Act 3

Vega looked up as the movement in the doorway caught her attention, in time to see the Queen's other handmaiden make a sudden grab for the side of the wall.

Thankful for the warning Todd had given to her, and for the chance it gave her to forge a good relationship with the other woman, she hurried to her side.

"Lean on me," she told her and wrapped a supportive arm around her waist. The woman winced, but let go of the wall to wrap a death grip around Vega's shoulders.

"I don't…" the woman's voice was hoarse.

"Yes, you can," Vega said, "It's just a few more steps. You can take my cot. It's closer."

The woman nodded and together they made it to the bedside. "I don't even know your name," the woman said to Vega as she helped her to lie back.

"Alicia," she said.

"Merihanna," the woman said. "Most just call me Hanna." Then she closed her eyes, and began to cry softly.

Vega sat beside her and gently stroked her hair, "It's okay to cry," she whispered, blinking rapidly to banish the tears of sympathy from her own eyes.

"You didn't," Merihanna said, turning her head up to see Vega, "When he sent you back."

Vega sighed, "I did my share of crying," she said.

Merihanna reached up her hand, trembling terribly, to run her fingertips over the abrasions left by the sub-commander that had attacked her. Vega flinched.

"Sorry," Merihanna said, and pulled her hand away. Vega caught it as it fell; cradled it between her own.

"It's all right," she said.

"I suppose I should be thankful that at least the Hive Commander didn't feed on me." She looked up into Vega's eyes. "Did it hurt?"

She nodded, adding, "But… no more than… anything else."

For a moment she hated herself. The moment the lie left her lips she felt like the biggest bitch in the galaxy. Like the girl in high school that always pretends to be your friend just to have an alibi for illicit nights out, or wild parties… How would she know the pain of 'anything else?' She hadn't done anything more than flirt with the idea based on some stupid psychological captor-victim twisted transference complex. How could she know that – if she'd had the nerve to actually allow Todd more than just permission to create the illusion…? She shivered. What if he'd just—?

"Alicia?" Merihanna touched her knee, drawing her out of her angry, fearful reveries and away from the demon atop her shoulder that whispered, 'because he's not like that.'

She shook her head. "Just thinking," she told Merihanna, then asked, "Have you had the chance to bathe?"

Merihanna shook her head and Vega started to get up to go and draw a bath for her. "You'll feel better once you do," she said.

"I just want to sleep," Merihanna said.

"Bathe first, then sleep," she answered. "I'll help you."

As she watched the water swirling in to fill the bath, and then looked back at Hanna, she swore to have nothing more to do with Todd – like she had a choice.

**

"Teyla, it's reckless," Halling argued, pacing back and forth. "This is meant only as a last resort, for a single occasion. This will make the third."

"But it's been days, Halling—"

"No, Teyla," he said a little harshly. "Hasn't this maniac taken enough from you already?" he took her roughly by the arm and pulled her around to face the mirror. "Look at yourself. You're exhausted. You're barely eating. You've lost your lover, your son… Your friends hardly recognise you."

"I understand you are afraid for me, Halling, but how can I be myself – how can I understand myself – unless I know everything."

"Do not let him take your life as well," Halling appealed.

She placed a hand onto his chest and felt his wildly beating heart beneath her fingers.

"I am frightened too, my friend," she said softly, "for many reasons."

"Then let it go, Teyla," he appealed quietly, but she could see in his eyes that his resolve was weakening.

"I cannot," she answered, "or I will truly lose myself."

Halling sighed. "You are stronger than ever I could be," he said. "When first Michael took us, and the day he took Kara, I thought—"

"As difficult as it is to understand, I do not think he would have hurt any of you," she said.

"He made hybrids of us, Teyla!" Halling's voice rose, but it was in fear, and she suspected he had suspicions of the veracity of the statement, as she did. Finally he added, "I will never forgive him, Teyla."

"I do not expect you to," she said, but in that moment felt a part of her knotting against a pang of grief. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, he was holding out a small beaker, filled with the deep green liquid of the drug, in her direction.

"The last time," he said firmly as she took it from him, and drank it back quickly, steeling herself against the bitterness of it – both physical and metaphorical.

~~ ~~ ~~

Michael looked up at her from where he still worked hurriedly, trying to save Kanaan. There was question in his eyes, and an expression of sorrowful apology on his face, and yet still, he straightened the hybrid's arm, to find the rapidly collapsing vein. Understanding the truth of the moment, Teyla reached out and laid a trembling hand over the top of Michael's.

"No," she whispered. "You have tried your best. I know you have."

"Teyla, I—"

"Mich-ael, please," her breath caught in the middle of his name, and she gripped his hand tightly. After only a moment, he let go of the syringe he was still holding, and turned his hand beneath hers, bringing the other to cradle her hand between the two of his.

"Come," he said softly, beginning to draw her to her feet. Trembling she took a step toward him as they stood. "I am sorry, Teyla. He… had… great affection—"

Unable to hear the words spoken, she laid her head on Michael's chest and wept. For a time he was stiff, immobile, as though uncertain, then he laid one hand across her shoulders and held her to him, somewhat awkwardly.

"Please, Michael – my son… I cannot lose him as well," she whispered through the tears. She felt him tense, and then he drew her to arm's length, looking down at her, into her eyes.

"Have I ever once told you that you may never see your son?" he asked softly.

She frowned, trying to remember. He waited, seeming content enough to allow her the time to examine her memories. She remembered that he told her he did not think it wise. He had taken Nethaiye while she delivered her son's afterbirth, but he had not told her she would never see him.

"He is my son, my child," she replied as vehemently as she had ever spoken to him, "he needs to be with his mother."

Mutely she shook her head, dislodging tears that ran down her cheeks. Michael hesitated for just a heartbeat, and then, seeming even more uncertain that before, said, "Then, trust me now."

As she opened her mouth to answer him, a sudden, and very close, explosion rocked the ground under their feet. Unbalanced, she grabbed Michael's arm for support, and he shifted his arms around her to help keep her upright. The deepest of frowns appeared on his face.

"In the chest at the foot of the bed are your clothes," he said, starting to move to bring her in that direction. "Get dressed. We may have to leave." As they reached the chest, he let go of her and strode purposefully toward the door. "Wait for me here. I will not be long."

Shivering with the sudden cold as she changed, Teyla tried to imagine what might be happening. The sounds of battle, after Kanaan's fall, had begun to fade, and then suddenly they were under attack again. Kanaan had said that her friends had been driven away, and that Michael was arranging to divert the Wraith. How had this failed? What had happened?

She had no idea how much time had passed, but jumped to her feet as she heard Michael return. Something in his manner, something about the emotions she felt from him, made her take a step away.

"Change in plan," he said almost angrily, and strode to her, lunging to catch her wrist and pull her in closer. "Your friends have interfered for the last time, Teyla."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her fear rising, as he spun her in his arms, pinned her to him, and reached for something from the pouch at his waist.

"There was a subspace transmission from your secondary battle cruiser to the departing Hive as the Hive retreated," he growled, as she began to struggle with him even more when she saw the syringe in his hand. "They reported the presence of our cruisers that tricked the Lanteans into going another way. However, the Wraith extrapolated the possibilities for the point of origin of the cruisers. In short, they gave away our position."

"Don't, please," she begged as he thrust her against the bench, used his weight to pin her against the bench and twisted her hand behind her, to hold her even more still. "You cannot know that."

"It is the only possibility that makes sense and now we have no clear trajectory for escape from this place." She turned her head, saw him use his teeth to take the cap from the needle. "Since your friends got us into this, now they must get us out."

"Please… Michael, no!"

She struggled in his arms as he held her, pinned her against the bench, restrained, his hand almost crushing hers. The sharp sting of the needle against the side of her neck was just the beginning. She felt the cold run of liquid into her vein, chilling her as he pushed the fluid from the syringe, and though she knew she should not, for it would hasten the flow of the drug inside of her, she struggled harder.

Fear… no, it was greater than fear. Panic gripped her as he let her up… literally threw the spent syringe away from them as if in anger or disgust and immediately wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close, holding her against him as, even through her struggling, the convulsions began.

"Look at me," he told her. The emotion in his voice made her want to and looking up she saw the anguish in his expression. "I need you to understand, they have left me no choice. There is no other way."

"What have you done?" she gasped, more painful convulsions spreading through her.

"I've given you a massive dose of a Wraith neural enzyme. Your body already produces it, and beyond this… physical discomfort, you won't be harmed. But it's necessary if I'm to do what I have to do… to keep you safe."

One of his hands moved to cradle the back of her head, keeping her eyes locked with his as she stopped struggling against him and looked up at Michael, jerking and trembling in his arms. More so in that moment than in any other she felt him… the press of his hand against the small of her back, his fingers wound into her hair and the heat of his body pressed close against hers. Her tiny hands trembled against his chest as the darkness of his mind began to close in on her… pushing through all that she knew… all that she remembered.

"Forgive me, Teyla…" he craved.

-forgive me, Teyla- -forgive me- -forgive-

~~ ~~ ~~

Halling caught her as she fell backwards. Her breathing was shallow – barely there at all. Panic gripped him as he gently laid his hand over her heart and felt it fluttering and straining under his fingers.

"Stay with me, Teyla," he moaned softly, "more than ever, we need your guidance now." He took her cold hand between the two of his and held it tightly. "We cannot go on without you."

**

He could not see, he could not hear, and all that he could feel was the pain of the many days of torment at the hands of the Hive Commander. Moving was like standing in the hottest of fires, but being still left him dangerously chilled. He forced his swollen joints to bend his knees, to bring them to his aching belly, his bruised and broken ribs compressed to a dull ache by the pressure of them.

With an audible sob he let his head fall back against the wall, and through trembling breaths whispered, "Teyla…" Knowing there was only one course left to him.

"Teyla, Teyla, Teyla," he whispered again, remembering the last time he had felt such despair. "F-orgive… me."

**

Teyla took in a shuddering breath – Michael's mental touch echoing in her mind, trembling through her – a clap of thunder in her soul.

"Thank the Ancestors!" Halling caught her up in a tight embrace as she began to wake.

**

Exhaustion weighted his every step as they led Michael to the Queen's chamber. There was no part of him that didn't hurt and he felt the weakness that came with his hunger, and with the constant degradation of his cells. He needed rest. He needed freedom from pain.

They brought him to the centre of her chamber and let go of him, and even before any could give him the instruction, he slowly lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head.

He heard her move, felt the guards withdraw from his side. He sighed.

Her fingers curled almost gently beneath his chin and she raised his face to hers. He kept his eyes downcast.

=look at me= =at me= =me=

**

She felt his exhaustion and his pain as she reached into his mind. Even ordered to do so, he still resisted meeting her gaze. A thrill went through her. It had been a long, hard road he had walked.

"Look at me," she said aloud.

"My… Queen…" he could barely be heard. His voice was so hoarse, so broken, but this time he slowly raised his eyes to meet hers.

"All of this pain," she murmured to him, releasing his chin from her grasp. "All of this… suffering," she ran the backs of her fingers down the side of his bruised and bloodied face and he flinched, but forced himself to be still, "Could have been avoided."

She waited to see if he would speak, would argue, but no words came from his lips, nor the defiant touch of his mind in hers.

"We have had our differences in the past," she purred softly, beginning to circle him slowly, "our disagreements and misunderstandings." She stopped behind him, reaching to run a hand over his shoulder, the blackening bruise already creeping upward on his neck. "But never so long and so hard."

"For…give…" he started to gasp.

"Ssssh," she almost gently ran the pads of her fingers through his hair. "Remember."

**

Michael felt her deepen the touch into his mind…

The memory ended abruptly, leaving him gasping with the weight of her remembered desires… her rapid fulfilment at his hands. He swayed, dangerously close to falling, light headed and near to passing out. He saw her wave her hands and with no warning a woman appeared beside him, gently caught his arm, but even so the pain was overwhelming.

He saw her frown, and the woman let go.

"It seems that I, in my turn, must see to your care, as you have seen to mine," the Queen said softly. "The guards will take you back to your rest, as you are resting I will send a handmaiden to tend to you."

He did not miss the reference, and could not help but glance at the woman who still knelt, shaking at his side. He swallowed hard and somehow managed to dredge the words from the depths of his churning gut.

"Thank… you… my… Queen."

**

Vega stood for some time, looking at him from just inside the bars – until long after the drone had left, closing the door behind her. Michael lay on his side, his eyes closed, and up close, he was even more of a mess than he looked from across the Queen's chamber.

"Not so tough now," she murmured, finally crossing the small cell toward him, setting down the tray on which she carried her supplies on the shelf nearby, before leaning down and reaching to nudge Michael awake. She all but yelped when his left hand shot out and caught her wrist.

He opened his eyes, and seemed to relax a little when he saw who it was.

"Captain Vega," he said hoarsely.

"Michael," she said, taking a deep breath to try and get herself under control. "She sent me to—" She stopped as a rasping chuckle escaped him, almost bubbling from inside of him. "What the hell is funny?"

"I never thought to hear that name here, on the Hive," he explained as he struggled to sit up. "Abomination… Renegade… It…"

"Oh stop," she said sarcastically, "you're breaking my heart."

"I don't expect your sympathy," he said.

"Good," she snapped, "because if it was up to me, I'd be happy to see you rot in hell."

"Then it is… fortunate… for me," he said coldly, "that it isn't up to you."

"You think I can't see through you?" she hissed, and remembering she had been sent for a reason, reached for one of the cloths from the bowl of water, then lowered herself to barely perch on the edge of the cot.

He had retreated to the corner like a wounded animal and, as she began to reach for him, snarled at her in much the same way.

"Neither am I fooled by your little… deception," he said, "and I wonder which of us the Queen would be more likely to believe."

She frowned, worried. "What do you mean?" she said.

She knew what he was talking about, and her stomach turned in a circle. She forced herself to be still when he reached across between the two of them and quite forcefully, given his condition, tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck, and then barely ran his fingertips over the mark still there.

She endured the touch for only a few seconds before she jerked her head away from him, pushed at his wrist.

"It's cleverly done," he said softly, "but entirely too precisely placed to have been… a product of that kind of intimacy. Neither was the skin broken," he added in amused tones. "Far too gentl—"

"What the hell do you know!" she snapped defensively.

"I know more about that one than you could possibly believe," he met her gaze, almost as if he were challenging her to contradict him.

"What's that supposed to mean," she demanded, and finally began to press the cloth against the gash at the side of his neck, to clean away the dried blood.

"Know your enemies, Captain Vega," he said, and gasped a little at the rough way in which she cleaned his wounds. "It is something you would do well to remember," he continued hoarsely, "It is one of your human sayings, after all."

She stopped and drew back her hands from where she was carefully wiping at the burned side of his neck.

"Taken a look at yourself lately?" she asked, glaring at him. "You're not exactly in the kind of position to be giving that kind of advice."

"On the contrary," she could see he was struggling with the pain her treatment of him was bringing, and couldn't help but feel a kind of satisfaction at that. After all he'd done to her, everything to which he'd delivered her, he deserved it.

"This," he looked around as he continued talking, "was once my Hive. I have seen these kinds of dramas played out a thousand times and always the same outcomes, the same sorry and unnecessary defeats; the same sick victories."

"Oh, shut up," she made a face against the twisting fear his words were turning inside of her, the fears he was rekindling, feigning boredom or irritation at his words.

"You think yourself exempt from it all because of a moment's… supposed servitude?" he gestured with his eyes once more to the bite mark at the side of her neck. "Think he will show you any loyalty?"

"I said, shut up," she warned, swallowing hard.

"He is a Wraith, and you must remember that." Far from stopping, Michael continued chillingly, "Beside his own furtherance, whether he will admit it or not, he lives his life in service of the Queen, and she is fickle."

Vega harrumphed, "Tell me something I don't know." but her light heartedness faded as he continued.

"What promises has she made to you, Vega? That she will send you only to him? That she will not invade what little privacy you think you have left. How do you know she hasn't already, and has seen through your little… ruse?" He was relentless in his verbal assault, fixed his eyes on hers and continued talking, "And even… when you think yourself safe, as you step across the threshold of the chambers assigned to you, you think you do not harbour a viper at your breast? That because you are both her handmaidens… both used… abused… that you can trust her; that she is your friend – someone whom you should not hate?"

-hate- -hate- -hate-

The word echoed softly in her mind as she saw a mental image of Hanna's face.

"Do you believe that just because she is your fellow handmaiden, both beleaguered in service to the Queen, that you should not try to rise above her; usurp her position with the Hive Commander?"

-with the Hive Commander- -the Hive Commander- -Hive Commander-

"Do you think she would not do the same; take your precious scientist from you; approach the Queen to suggest… go to him?"

-approach the Queen- -the Queen- -Queen- -Go to him- -to him- -him-

Words and visions continued to echo around in confusion inside her head, and she barely heard the words he was speaking. Some kind of warning trickled along her spine and in a sudden rush of awareness she realised what he was trying to do. She took the only line of defence she knew, and lashing out, caught, and jarred his left shoulder.

He cried out in pain, tore his eyes away from her, and – she supposed it must have been an instinctive reaction – pulled back his broken and bound right hand, before he froze, snarling at her.

"What are you going to do?" she taunted him. "Feed on me? Some joke that is."

Slowly he lowered his hand, took several deep breaths, his eyes closed. "Believe me or do not," he said quietly, without opening his eyes. "But remember that I know this place – this Queen."

She set the bowl beside him on the bed and got up to go and call for the drone guard to release her from his cell.

"There is food – good food – on the tray. I'll leave you the water and cloths so that you can see to your own injuries. They'll bring you fresh clothing, Michael, but I won't come to you again," she said.

"Goodbye, Captain," Michael said, opening his eyes at last.

"Goodbye," she answered.

**

"What the hell's going on?" Sheppard asked as he stormed into Woolsey's office. "I just received word from Warsh and his team that you pulled them off M8B-447."

"I did, yes," Woolsey said, without looking up from his paperwork.

"After we specifically said we'd help them against the Wraith." Sheppard folded his arms, waiting until Woolsey finally looked up at him. "We can't do this, Woolsey."

"There was no sign of the Wraith on that planet, Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey said smoothly.

"Not yet, no," Sheppard agreed, "but did you take into account the three Wraith Hive ships that came out of hyperspace on the edge of that system?"

"You know this how?" Woolsey asked, his brow crinkling into an uncertain frown.

"I know this because I asked Rodney to scan the system using our subspace sensors," he answered.

"Why wasn't I told?" Woolsey demanded.

"Did you even ask?" Sheppard countered. "Would you have taken any notice if you had been told?"

Woolsey sighed, "I'm not the enemy, Colonel."

Sheppard gave him an angry look and then keyed his headset mic. "Warsh, this is Sheppard, ready your team. Assemble in the Gate room."

Just as quickly, Woolsey keyed his own headset. "Belay that order, Captain."

Sheppard leaned both hands onto the top of Woolsey's desk, leaning down to speak almost directly into the man's face.

"When are you going to stop countermanding my orders," he demanded, "undermining my authority?"

"When you do," Woolsey answered. "Colonel Sheppard, we have priorities. We have to see to the safety of this base first, or we'll not be able to help anyone, least of all ourselves. I won't send our men into a hopeless situation."

"It's not a hopeless situation," Sheppard almost shouted, standing up and pacing a few steps away. "Least it wasn't until you pulled them out in the first place. They could have seen to the evacuation of the people to their safe haven, left a skeleton crew there as a last resort backup, and got the hell out. But no… you had to go and pull them, without checking with me, without finding out what their orders were."

"There are survivors on that planet, Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey said. "That's a resource that we, and the people of the Pegasus galaxy, can't afford to ignore any longer."

"What!" Sheppard swung back around to face him, "You'd sacrifice an entire planet just to take out a handful of the Wraith with survivors of the Hoffan plague? How many Wraith do you think they'd kill? One? Two – before they figure out that their 'poison tasters' are dying a horrible death?"

"The death of a single Wraith can be significant," Woolsey said, "if it's the right Wraith."

"You won't take out a Queen with a survivor of exposure to the Hoffan drug, Woolsey. You know you won't. They aren't stupid."

"They might not be stupid, Colonel, but they're hungry, and they're desperate. Under circumstances like that, people make mistakes." Woolsey said.

"You're a real piece of work. You know that!" Sheppard sighed angrily and then turned and headed for the door. "We're going to M8B-447."

"No, Colonel Sheppard, you're not," Woolsey said. "I've suspended all Gate travel until further notice. Besides which, you have an appointment."

"You son-of-a-bitch," Sheppard stopped and turned around to look Woolsey in the eyes. "You really are going to let our people sit around and do nothing while the galaxy falls under the advance of the Wraith."

"I told you – priorities." Woolsey said coldly.

**

There was little he'd been able to do about his fingers, or his shoulder, but to feel physically clean again, and with the minor injuries soothed by the antiseptic that had been in the water, not to mention the nourishing, wholesome food the Queen had sent to him, Michael no longer felt as though he was on the threshold between life and death.

Still, Vega's visit had left him feeling restless, too thoughtful for his own good. He could not afford to think. The only way he could survive here was instinct… and he had spent so long trying to tame his instincts – to subdue them like the wild animals that they were…

"Every fibre in your body wants to kill me," he said, and watched as Ronon's face twisted into contortions of effort as the man obviously struggled internally. Michael almost wished that he would pull the trigger. At least then he, himself, would be absolved of the responsibility for what he suspected was to come. He fought his own instinct – to lash out in defence – to try and feed on the big Satedan. "Instinct is so hard to overcome, but what would happen to our alliance?"

… he could not help but lift his aching right hand, study its smooth, clean palm through the bandages, titling his head at the tendrils of black and blue that had begun to stretch across it – bruising from his fingers spreading.

"The last time I saw you, I really was going to feed on you…"

But it was a lie… Why had he not simply told the truth then? Would that have led to an avoidance of all that came after?

**

Teyla moaned a little, and turned over in her sleep.

"What are you talking about?" she murmured, still sleeping fitfully, grappling with demons that had kept her away long into the night.

Now that she knew, now that she had her memories returned to her and, if not completely understood, at least understandable enough to realise that the values, beliefs and actions of those humans in Atlantis, did not sit comfortably with her own.

She whimpered, just softly, as she began to drift toward waking, and began to twist a little beneath the blankets. In that hypnagogic state, she was sure she could feel the light scratch of insectoid feet, climbing her body; hear the flutter of its tiny little wings as it approached her… ready to feed.

She woke with a gasp, uncertain, unsure… caught between love and hate – at war with herself. Damned whichever way she turned.

"Halling!" she called out as if calling for a parent, as a child begging her father for solace after a nightmare of the worst kind.

He came to her with no questions, no words. He simply wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly to his chest, holding her while she wept.

**

The coming of the inclement weather was the fitting start to the morning as she stood in the doorway of the Athosian roundhouse she had occupied in the days since she had last used the drug. Drinking only water and the juice of a citrus fruit known for its cleansing properties, and eating only a thin gruel, she had spent many days in quiet contemplation.

She had to find her son, she would not abandon him, that much was true, and to do that, she had to find Michael, but when she found him, what then? Undeniably he had cared for her through the last days of her pregnancy, and through the birth of her child. Without question he had tried to save Kanaan, even knowing what the two of them had shared, for her sake. Indisputably, he had returned her to Atlantis in order to save her from death at the hands of the Wraith, to keep her safe, locking her memories away so that she would not be troubled by accusations from the Lanteans.

Despite his best efforts the accusations had come. She had experienced some of which subjected him; mistrust, abuse… had used her – and not for the first time – in furthering only their own agenda, thinly disguised as what was best for the people of the Pegasus galaxy.

They had taken people from their home, experimented on them, and destroyed their failed results. They had employed biological warfare, had created a dangerous sickness which now was rife throughout the galaxy – admittedly at Michael's hands, but still… if it had not been perfected in the first place…

On the other hand, the things Michael had done, the murders, the experimentations of his own, the dissemination of the Hoffan drug… her sense of right baulked at accepting that he had done this only because he had been left with no other choice… but… what if she could give him another choice, or was it already too late?

"What will you do?" Halling came to stand behind her, his hands resting against her shoulders as she looked out at the rain.

She sighed, and leaned back into him. "I do not know, Halling," she said. "He said that my son would be… an instrument of change, but… what if that change comes with the trials of his mother." She looked up at him then as he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her, rocking them both softly from side to side, his chin resting on the top of her head. "What if I am all that stands between the people of this galaxy, and the mess that we have created of it? What would you do in my place?"

She felt his sigh rather than heard it.

"Teyla," he said softly, "the only advice that I can give is what you, yourself, would say to another in your place. You must follow your heart."

She closed her eyes, "And if my heart leads me astray, Halling, what then?"

"Then we must pray that the Ancestors give us all the strength to see you guided in the way of right, but… I know you, Teyla. I know that your heart will guide you wisely," he said, "even in those times we do not understand the choices that you will make… And you will always have a home here, with your people, and what help that we can give you."

"Thank you, Halling," she whispered. She sighed softly, and closed her eyes again, listening to the sounds of the rain.

What if I am all that stands between the people of this galaxy, and the mess that we have created of it?

"I have no choice," she said quietly, after a moment or two. "I must return to Atlantis."

**

The surprising ease with which Todd had been able to acquire the Queen's DNA had led to an almost frenzied, unceasing effort of combination and recombination of his formulae. It was also a testament to how important the project was to her, that he had simply asked, and been granted one of the strongest samples. He had been taken, under guard, to her own hibernation chamber, and allowed to collect the residual materials it held in stasis inside her pod, and all because he had simply asked.

The computer sounded softly, signalling the end of another cycle, the final cycle. The serum was complete, now all that remained was to test it.

Letting out a long, slow breath, Todd gave serious consideration to taking the hybrid who had been so vociferous and, in spite of their bargain, testing the retrovirus on him. It would be justly deserved, he thought, for the hybrid's interference in… other matters.

He growled softly as he changed his mind. He was entirely too honourable for his own good, he decided, but once he had given his word, he would move every obstacle to keep it.

"No," he rumbled softly, looking into the alcove at the sleeping hybrid. "Enjoy your safety while you may."

Quickly, he loaded a syringe with a sufficient dose of the serum, and then approached the remaining hybrid. The creature had fear written over its face as the chains at its wrists and feet tightened, drawing it back against the wall of the alcove, but at least it did not beg, and plead, as it could have done. He turned the creature' head to find the vein in the side of its neck, and quickly injected the retrovirus, stepping back out of its reach at once, in case the chains did not hold.

The transformation began almost at once, and the hybrid's screams… so loud he doubted there would be any Wraith aboard the Hive that had not heard them. Skin twitched and bubbled; paled under the cascading rush of the reactive DNA, fingernails blackened and lengthened to a point. Facial plates formed and reformed, pronouncing the already present ancillary organs beside the hybrid's nose. Pigment faded from the creature's hair, and the flecks of gold in its pale eyes blossomed like a kind of plant opening to the sun, before the eyes themselves twisted and reformed.

Todd felt a flush of elation. Had that truly been the key, after all this time, merely the introduction of a stronger DNA?

Elation rapidly became anger. "Not again," he snarled.

The creature's hair became suddenly lank and began to fall from a scalp that was becoming bulbous, bug like. The skin of the transforming hybrid's shoulders and arms became blackened… hardened into a semi-chitinous shell. The pointed teeth blackened and began to crumble, and the creature's tongue split – became short pincers which extended from its distended mouth.

The creature put back its head, and let out a high pitched, pained, but pitiful cry, and thrust its now bulbous right hand, extended to the ends of the reach of the chain, straining toward Todd. Its feeding slit wept a colourless fluid.

Angered beyond belief, Todd turned and swept out of the laboratory, knocking aside the drones in the corridor in his haste to reach the object of his fury.

**

"You said the key was to use stronger Wraith DNA!"

Michael looked up, and then stood as quickly as he could, as soon as he saw the anger on the scientist's face. He took several deep breaths to control the sudden irregular pounding in his heart.

"I merely questioned what Wraith had provided your template for—"

"Do not play games with me!" the scientist roared as he stepped within the chamber as soon as the bars had spiralled aside. "I used DNA from the Queen."

"Let me guess," Michael paled, and backed up – not from the scientist, but from the knowledge that he had once again failed, even using the strongest DNA aboard the Hive. It did not bode well for his future. "The Iratus DNA overwhelmed the Wraith characteristics as soon as the initial transformation was complete."

"You knew it would," the scientist accused, coming to a halt in front of him.

"I did not think you such a fool," Michael snarled, unable to help himself.

The scientist lashed out, catching him square in the chest, dislodging several of his painfully broken ribs. He flew the short distance to collide with the wall behind. Pain erupted in his shoulder at the impact, and he could not help but cry out.

As he crumpled to the floor, the scientist crouched in front of him, painfully twisting his fingers into his blackened shoulder. Michael cried out again as the needle of agony raced along his nerves to boil his every sensation in pain.

"Why did the Iratus DNA begin to subsume the newly restored Wraith DNA?" the scientist demanded. "Why did it stop?"

"No!" Michael wailed through gritted teeth, and raised his arm in defence.

The scientist caught his hand, took his already broken fingers into his hand and squeezed, hard. New waves of agony rushed through Michael, steeling his breath, filling him with nausea that he could not release.

"You will tell me what I want to know," the scientist insisted, staring into his eyes, and once more bent his fingers backwards.

**

"Colonel Sheppard," Varnerin said almost brightly, and turned away from examining his newly installed equipment. "How do you like my new office?"

"Very…" Sheppard looked around. To him it looked very little like he imagined a psychologist's office should, especially not the full operating couch to the rear of the room. "…homely," he finished.

Varnerin watched him carefully. He could feel the man's eyes all but stripping him of every scrap of his humanity. In that moment Sheppard felt he could more easily stand to be in the room with a dozen Wraith Queens than this one man.

"So, Colonel," Varnerin said at last. "Shall we sit?"

Sheppard shrugged, but did move to perch on the edge of one of the seats.

"So," Sheppard said.

"Before we begin, Colonel, I'd like to apologise," Varnerin said. "We got off to rather a… bad start, I'm afraid. You were right. I did overstep the mark where Major Lorne was concerned."

"You won't hear an argument about that from me," Sheppard answered.

"Of course," Varnerin answered. "So… where do we begin?"

"You're the psychologist," Sheppard said, lazily, "you tell me. Aren't you supposed to ask me… how long it's been that I wanted to sleep with my mother, or something?"

Varnerin laughed, it was a cold sound.

"Let's talk about the Wraith, shall we, John?" he said. "They seem to be at the centre of all this… of your meeting with the Athosians, the alliance with the Hoffans, the Genii… the creation of Michael…"

"What's your point? The Wraith are to the Pegasus galaxy what the… Goa'uld or the Ori are to the Milk Way." he said.

"You're saying that all this was inevitable?" Varnerin asked.

"I'm saying," Sheppard sighed. What was he trying to say? "The Wraith were here before we arrived. Before us, they were at war with the Ancients... the Ancients created weapons that they hoped would destroy them. They failed… the people of the Pegasus galaxy continued to suffer."

He shrugged, becoming aware that he was rambling.

"Go on," Varnerin said. "I'm interested to see how your version of the story unfolds."

"Story?" Sheppard said, "Varnerin, sooner or later, you're going to realise that this is no story. People's lives, Professor, hang in the balance every day of our being here; every action we take here changes someone's life."

"For the better?"

"Not always," Sheppard said. "But we do our best… with the tools we're given."

"Tools?" Varnerin said. "Interesting way of putting things."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't mean anything, Colonel. What do you mean? This is your psyche evaluation after all." Varnerin said.

Sheppard shook his head, "Mmm mmm," he said. "Not biting."

"You think I'm trying to trick you?" Varnerin said. "Trying to get you to… admit to something that might get you into trouble?"

"Frankly, I don't know what you’re trying to do," Sheppard said. "I don’t even know what you're doing here, with your… dodgy methods and your… suspicious looking equipment, and—"

"Unscheduled off world activation."

"We have an IDC, Sir," she said and then, sounding surprised, added, "It's Teyla."

"Thank God," he breathed. "Let her in, Banks. I'm on my way." Then he turned and gave Varnerin a sarcastically apologetic look. "It's been real nice talking to you, Professor. Maybe we can catch up again in a while."

"Count on it, Colonel Sheppard," Varnerin answered coldly. "We were in the middle of something, after all."

**

Vega glanced across the chamber, to where Hanna was standing, painstakingly braiding the Queen's long white hair. She stood waiting to be noticed; to be summoned. It did not take long. She first felt the familiar pressure that usually came before the commanding touch. This time was no exception. She was summoned forward, to help with the braiding.

"I am told his work is close to completion," the Queen purred, turning her eyes to look Vega's way. "Tell me…"

=tell me= =tell me= =tell me=

"…what did you see?"

"My Queen?" she asked slowly, feigning confusion.

"Of his experiments… while you were in his presence. You must have seen something?" The Queen tilted her head, waiting.

"Truly, My Queen, I am not the one to ask," she said hurriedly, "Yes, I… I… I saw… things. I—"

"Then tell me!" the Queen roared, rising suddenly from her throne and rounding on Vega.

Vega stumbled backwards, almost tripping down the stairs. But for the Queen's sudden vice-like grip in her mind, grabbing her muscles, and pulling her closer, to land on her knees at her feet, she would have fallen.

"I would," she stammered, terrified, as the Queen grabbed her by the throat, the sharp blades drawing beads of blood in neat, straight lines along her neck. "But I don't understand. I can't read Wraith characters, and his science is too advanced for my knowledge to understand the images alone."

Every word was the truth, and it was this that saved her as she felt the crushing presence of the Queen's mind in hers, pushing deeper. She filled her mind with the image from the microscope, tensing in concentration to try and keep the image there, the image and nothing else.

Suddenly the Queen roared in frustration, and released her. She tumbled in a heap in front of her.

"Then go," the Queen growled, "bring him to me that he might explain himself, and hurry, before my patience is lost with the both of you, and I decide to give you to another of my faithful – my Hive Commander perhaps, as your desires suggest!"

"Yes, My Queen," she whispered tearfully, and all but ran from the Queen's chamber.

Long before she stopped running, she realised that she was hopelessly lost, and completely out of breath. Her pace slowed, her legs buckled beneath her and she sank to her knees.

Weeks of every horror she had suffered at the hands of the Wraith welled up, overwhelming, maddening… and for a moment she could not help but feel the pressure in the back of her throat that was the wailing scream she fought to keep inside.

Get a grip. She told herself. Get out. You don't have to be the victim here!

She took a deep breath, crisis management training coming to the fore; concentrated on her breathing, the sound of her heartbeat… slow it down – Think.

"All right, Alicia, what do you need?" she asked herself.

"A way out of here."

Another deep breath.

"A ship."

And another.

"The Darts… find the Darts."

**

Keller sighed as she walked back into the health laboratory off from the Infirmary. She had so much work to do and others trying to dictate where her priorities should be placed.

As a matter of time, she knew her own priorities. Curing Lorne, finding a way to save Carson, those were her priorities, not finding some… cryptic clues hidden inside an amino acid chain. Then there were the hundreds of people denied access to her medics, who needed remedial care until she could find some way to neutralise this damned disease… which would of course be much easier with Beckett's help, and so the cycle began again.

In defiant frustration, she picked up one of the sample containers from the people on M5T-325, and took out one of the slides. Metaphorically thumbing her nose at Woolsey and the IOA she put the slide under the microscope and set the computer to run a complete analysis, while she prepared to carefully study the images to come on the screen one by one.

She frowned as the first of the images resolved itself, line by line, onto the monitor, and hit the button on the keyboard to pause the screen.

"This can't be right," she said out loud, and walked the few paces to the microscope, to take off the slide and look at the label, thinking she had somehow put the sample she had created earlier into the wrong container.

Her frown deepened, the slide was in fact from a patient from M5T-325, but that meant… Her chest suddenly contracted, her breathing caught and her stomach did a flip. She would have to compare the two, just to be certain, but... the amino acid found in the blood of the victim she was studying bore a frightening similarity to what she remembered of the appearance of the chain that Todd had given to her.

"But that means…" she quickly pulled up the file containing the image of the chain she had engineered, based on the data the Wraith had provided and began a point by point comparison.

"Oh. My God," she said softly as the comparison completed, wondering how in the world she could have missed it in the first place.

With a trembling hand she keyed her headset. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Doctor Keller, please respond."

"What you got, Doc?" his cheery voice came back.

"Could you come to my lab? I have something I think I should show you."

**

It was only oh-five thirty, and already Sheppard was having a bad day. After the brief respite from tension in the form of the breakthrough Doctor Keller had revealed to him the night before, he'd awoken to a bitter argument from Woolsey, and his pit bull, Varnerin.

"Colonel Sheppard, I really don't think it's a wise or a smart idea for her to go straight back out on active duty after… all that." Woolsey said, looking over Sheppard's roster one more time.

"All that?" Sheppard asked, raising his eyebrow. "Woolsey, she did 'all that' in order to regain the memories she lost so that she can satisfy you naysayers that nothing funky happened while she was with Michael."

"But that's just my point," Woolsey said, and Sheppard's heart began to sink still further, remembering his somewhat heated discussion with Teyla after Halling had asked him to speak to her. "Has she?"

"What?" He frowned in confusion.

"Submitted herself for debriefing?" Woolsey clarified.

"That old, broken record again?" he asked, sighing.

"Colonel," Varnerin put in, "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that it's standard military procedure for—"

"Don't try and quote the rule book at me, Prof." Sheppard rounded on the man.

"I'd be more than happy to speak with her," Varnerin told him, almost lightly.

"I'll bet you would," Sheppard hissed. "Taser in one hand, cup of scopolamine in the other."

"Colonel," Woolsey warned, "I won't have you making those kinds of accusations—"

"Accusations?" Sheppard rounded on Woolsey now, pointing behind him as he spoke, "He damn well admitted to using the taser on Lorne."

"That's as may be, but—"

"Look, bottom line," Sheppard said. "It's my risk to take. Who I assign to my team, for which missions, is a military decision and that falls under my jurisdiction."

"That old, broken record again," Woolsey said, sarcastically echoing his words of earlier. "I would have thought that, after the last time, you'd have exercised more caution. She—"

"Is on my team," he said. "End of discussion."

"For what it's worth," Woolsey said as he joined the teams preparing for departure in the Gate Room, "I still think this is a bad idea."

Sheppard looked over at him, but was prevented from answering by Teyla's arrival.

She had overheard what Woolsey said, because she added, "So do I, Colonel. I have some very grave concerns about the remit of this mission."

"We'll be all right," he said nonchalantly, giving Woolsey the kind of look that was meant to wither him to silence. "Get yourself kitted up."

But she followed him, pulling on the utility vest as she came, "No, Colonel, I do not think we will. Not this time."

"We will," he said, "this is nothing. Piece of cake. All right, people, listen up."

The general milling around of the marines in the Gate Room stopped and, to a man, they turned to face him. One or two looked past him, to the woman he could feel glowering at his shoulder. He gave them pointed looks to fix the expressions on their faces before he fixed them for them – last thing he needed was for Teyla to feel… not trusted, unwelcome.

"This is a straightforward evac. We go in… neutralise the enemy – find the survivors in the bunkers, and get them out."

"What about the Wraith, sir?" one of the young marines asked.

"We'll have plenty of warning about the Wraith," Sheppard said, half glancing behind him. "There'll be nothing to worry about."

"I disagree," Teyla said softly, and he sighed, wishing she hadn't spoken, but knowing she was not about to stop. "This kind of behaviour is atypical of any of the Wraith we have so far encountered."

"Which is what helps to make this mission a piece of cake," he argued. "If the Wraith are getting overcautious, sending their worshippers to do their job for them—"

"Men we can deal with, right?" another of the marines said.

"And by the time they get word to the Wraith they serve, or the Wraith realise what's going on," Sheppard said reassuringly, "we'll be long gone."

"And if you're wrong?" she asked.

"I'm not wrong, Teyla," he told her with an earnest look. Then he looked up to the control room. "Banks – dial it!"

A light touch on his arm as the dialling sequence started almost made him jump. He looked down to see Teyla looking up at him, frowning.

"Colonel Sheppard, may I have a word?" She glanced to the side of the Gate Room, some way away from the others.

He sighed, almost as if he knew what was coming, but walked that way with her, none the less.

"Look," he said as they stopped walking, "I know what you're going to say and—"

"I doubt that you do, Colonel," she said. "Is there a reason that you are ignoring, or dismissing everything that I say?"

"No, that's exactly what I thought you were going to ask," She gave him a look, and then he said, "Well, okay, more or less."

"So?" she pressed.

"Teyla, listen," he sighed, "You can't expect to just walk in exactly where you left off. You've been through a lot. You have to give people time to… settle a little… get used to having you around again."

"John, this isn't about whether or not I've been here," she said earnestly, "my objections are based on my knowledge and my experience of Wraith behaviour."

"I know that," he said.

"And yet still you dismiss what I'm saying?" she asked.

"No one is dismissing anything," he told her, though he knew that he had been trying to do so. "I heard what you're saying, and I trust your judgement and that you'll tell me what I need to know."

"Then I am telling you that you are making a mistake," she said harshly, "we are likely walking into a trap."

Before he could say another word, she walked away to finish equipping herself. He watched as Ronon came to her side, and tried not to listen to her conversation with the big Satedan. Instead he gave the order to move out. Still, he could not help but overhear.

"Is something wrong?" Ronon asked her.

"No," she snapped, "Nothing at all. We are fine, apparently."

She walked away quickly, entering the event horizon even as Ronon exchanged a confused and slightly hurt look with Sheppard.

"Something I said?" he asked.

"Something I said," Sheppard corrected.

**

The moment she stepped from the event horizon onto the surface of the planet, she knew that she had been right to worry. Every sense was immediately on the alert, the presence of Wraith rushing through her blood and bones, sending every nerve screaming in warning.

She looked around, raising her weapon and turning first one way, and then the other.

She jumped as the gate disengaged behind her, and again when Ronon put his hand onto her shoulder. "Teyla?"

"There are Wraith here," she growled.

Ronon frowned. "Where? Nearby?"

"I feel them very strongly," she said, and could not help but glare over at Sheppard.

"Stay sharp, people," Sheppard said. "We may have Wraith nearby."

He carefully set off along the road that Warsh had told him led to the settlement. She followed more slowly, certain they should not leave the relative safety of the Gate's clearing. Her feelings grew stronger with each step.

Something was terribly wrong.

**

In spite of the terrible expression on Teyla's face, the road remained empty, as did the surrounding fields and copses of trees and up ahead he could begin to make out the buildings of the settlement.

"Easy, tiger," he said, and grabbed an overeager young marine by the strap. "Obs first. Always."

"But, Colonel, the place is empty," the marine said. "No sign of anyone."

"That's what worries me," Sheppard said, glancing over, first at Ronon, then at Teyla, just as she spoke.

"There is something very wrong here," she said, shivering.

"Ronon?" Sheppard said, nodding at the ground.

Ronon shook his head, "Way too confused. Too many tracks."

"Spread out," he ordered quietly, as they reached the outskirts of the settlement. "Search the houses. Be careful."

"The time is long past for being careful," Teyla said suddenly, darkly, "Colonel Sheppard… Run!"

This time he did not argue, as one after another the doors of the buildings around them began to open, a single Wraith commander in each doorway, each holding in their hands two halves of what looked like a chemical flare. He seriously doubted that was what they were.

As the Alpha Team, and their supporting marines, scrambled away from the village, away from the houses, the Wraith activated their devices, bringing the two halves together to release the energy, catching the straggling marines in the ever expanding circle of force that rippled outwards.

"Move, move!" Sheppard ordered, but not all of the marines were as fortunate as those leading the withdrawal. They crumpled to the ground. As the others ran wildly out into the open, Sheppard heard the familiar, and unwelcome buzzing sounds of several Wraith Darts.

His suspicions were confirmed when, a moment after, Ronon cried out, "Dart!" and pointed out the recognizable, dark shape taking to the sky from behind the nearby woodland.

"Damn it!" he yelled, "Take cover!"

"There is no time," Teyla cried. "We have to leave – now!"

He turned his head to face the direction in which she was pointing. Dominating the sky overhead and heading down toward the wide, open space between the settlement and the far mountains was the huge bulk of a Wraith Hive ship.

"I won't leave those marines behind!" Sheppard yelled at her, over the increasing sound of the approaching Darts and the descending Hive.

"They have already gone!" she answered, pointing at the trio of Darts that had just finished a low sweep over the village.

"Incoming!" a marine yelled, pointing at a trio of Darts headed along the road.

"Scatter!" Teyla answered as loudly as she could, "Do not give them a single target for their culling beams."

Even as they scattered, the Darts too, as if they anticipated the reaction, spread out from their formation and each began to fly an erratic flight plan, their beams sweeping beneath them.

**

Too late she spotted the danger, and turning, moved to throw herself across the path; intending to throw all of her weight into her diving tackle. She needed to send her Satedan friend harmlessly out of the path of the culling beam that swept relentlessly toward him.

"Ronon," she yelled as she flew at him.

"Teyla," Ronon yelled in return, "Teyla, no!"

He had seen what she had not until he called his warning. To reach him, she would have to pass directly into the culling beam of a second Dart.

A dark shape hit her, hard, knocking the air out of her lungs even before she hit the ground.

Sheppard wrapped his arms around her as he hit Teyla, taking her feet out from under her, and then tensed every muscle in his body to bring her rolling over the top of him to carry them both out of the path of the culling beam.

"Let me go!" she struggled with him. "Ronon is—"

"Ronon's gone," Sheppard said as he started to pull her, struggling to her feet. "We need to regroup – get to the Gate before the Wraith cut us off, and then we come back with reinforcements to get him and the others out."

**

"I'm not entirely certain, but I'd wager that your human fighters cannot be dispatched while the carrier is in hyperspace either," Todd said softly, coming up on the niche in which Vega had hidden herself.

"How did you—?" she asked, her voice barely audible as she peeked at him through the gap.

"When you did not send me to her, the Queen summoned me herself," he said in mild irritation.

"Oh God," she moaned, imagining the horrors awaiting her if the Queen should have her dragged back into her presence.

"I told her you had likely gotten lost… again," he said. "Now, come out of there before you draw attention to yourself… to us both."

She almost refused. After all, she'd sworn to herself that she would have nothing more to do with him, but then… he'd gone out of his way to find her; had lied to the Queen to cover for her attempted escape, and it wasn't exactly hard to put the pieces together and assume that her being in the Dart bay, trying to climb her way to one of the Darts meant it was more than likely that she was trying to escape. She took a huge breath and began to squeeze herself out of the niche again.

As soon as she was part way out, she felt Todd's hand close like a clamp around her elbow and pull her to his side.

"What possessed you to try and run, Alicia?" he demanded softly.

"How did you find—"

"You think this ship does not have internal sensors?" he growled at her and then shook her slightly. "Answer me."

"I got scared," she looked up at him, her tone and expression pleading. "She went… poking around in my head; trying to get me to tell her about your experiment. I tried… I tried to think of nothing but the image I'd seen on your computer screen but… but now she thinks…" she broke off, shaking her head, unable to even think the words, let alone to say them, the image of Hanna, cut… bitten… bruised, barely able to stand, too fresh in her mind.

"She thinks what?" Todd caught her other arm, forcing her to face him, fixing her with the urgency in his gaze.

"I can't," she cried, looking away. She raised her hands, pushing at him a little, but he was immovable.

"Tell me," he shook her, letting go with one hand to cup her chin and force her to look at him. The expression on his face, all that had come before, gathered in the panic that had lodged in her chest.

"She-thinks-I-want-her-to-give-me-to-the-Hive-Commander!" she all but screamed at him.

"Hmmm," he growled. "Does she indeed?"

Without a further word, and without letting go of her, he began striking quickly toward one of the corridors leading out of the Dart bay.

"Where are we going?" she asked him, almost having to run to keep up with him.

"To settle this once and for all," he answered, neither stopping to explain, nor even slowing his pace.

"What do you mean?" she asked, even more fearful. "Where are we going?"

"To the bridge," he said.

"No!" she cried, and tried to dig her heels into the deck beneath her feet, struggling against the resolute grip he had on her elbow. "Please, Todd, I don't— I can't—"

"If you wish to survive," he said darkly, "you will do as I tell you."

**

Alarms sounded as the gate began to dial from outside Atlantis. Woolsey hurried to the control room as Banks was activating the shield against possible intruders.

"IDC?" he asked. Banks shook her head, "Anything?"

He chewed tensely on his thumbnail as her hands flew over the keys of the computer in front of her, and over the Ancient technology as well.

"No, I—" she stopped, "Wait, there's a faint—"

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard," his voice was urgent, but more than that, there was almost a hint of panic in his voice. "Lower the shield; standby security detail – we're coming in hot!"

Banks looked at him for authorisation, and he hesitated. The force of something striking the shield made him jump, and he hurried behind Banks to look at the screen, even as the security teams she'd summoned hurried to line the Gate Room.

"Atlantis—! "

"Lower the shield," he ordered, and started to run down the stairs to the floor of the Gate Room.

Marines in hand to hand combat with Wraith Warriors began to all but fall through the event horizon into the Gate Room.

"My God!" Woolsey exclaimed, and flinched aside as a blast of energy came through the Gate to slam into the steps behind him, a shower of sparks biting at his heels.

Bursts of gunfire echoed around the Gate Room as the security teams tried to take down the invading Wraith, they made a staccato accompaniment to the growling baritone threat of the deadly creatures.

Somewhere, a man screamed, and as Woolsey watched, a Wraith Commander with one of the marines of the security detail in a tight headlock snarled viciously, and began to feed on him. The Wraith visibly healed as the marine in his grasp withered to a desiccated husk.

"Shut it down!" Sheppard's voice cut across the noise and confusion in the Gate Room, and Woolsey watched as Teyla rushed past the Colonel to virtually fly at the Wraith Commander, pulling a second marine out of his grasp and landing sufficient solid strikes against the Wraith Commander to make him stagger backwards.

**

"Hold your fire," Teyla cried as the heat of a bullet grazed the side of her arm. "We must learn what he knows!"

Still the overeager, more likely terrified, security officer kept shooting.

"She said, hold your fire!" Sheppard's voice repeated her command.

Her attention was focussed on the Wraith before her, who grinned hungrily at her and lashed out with hands into which he had flicked knives. Her arms were a blur as she blocked each attempted strike, and ducked backwards away from those that slipped through the arc of her defence.

"Teyla!" Sheppard called and, from the corner of her eye, she saw something dark and narrow heading her way. She spun aside from the Wraith attack and caught the nightstick that the colonel had thrown to her, before completing the turn and bringing her newly acquired weapon down against the Wraith's shoulder.

He responded with a sudden thrust from which she had to twist aside to avoid being cut, which brought her within his reach. She brought the baton hard against the Wraith's abdomen and her elbow hard against the middle of his chest, and then rolled around him, hooking her leg between his.

Even as he fell, he lashed out at her with the knives, but she blocked with the nightstick, before following the Wraith down, to land with her full weight against his chest pinning him to the ground with the action, and placing her foot heavily on the wrist of his feeding hand.

"Stop!" she commanded, glaring down at the Wraith, feeling, more than seeing, Colonel Sheppard come to the side of the supine Wraith, his handgun pointing at the creature's head.

"I'd do as she says," he said with a verbal shrug, "if I were you."

"Nothing you can do or say will make me cooperate with you," the Wraith snarled, struggling against Teyla's restraint and completely ignoring the gun pointed at his face. "I will feed on you."

Breathing in deeply she closed her eyes…

**

"Teyla, no!" Sheppard said as he saw her eyes begin to roll backwards in her head. He shivered when the breath she released came from her throat as more like a growl, more Wraithlike than he had ever heard in all the times she had tried this.

"What is she—" Woolsey said, evidently not at all catching on.

Sheppard opened his mouth to answer, but the Wraith suddenly gave a spasm, apparently in pain, and barely a second later, Teyla began to speak.

"You will tell me what I wish to know," she said, her voice growling, almost two-toned, chilling Sheppard even more, between that and her barely contained fury, "or I will crush you. I will take you from this place and lock you in the deepest hole you can imagine, alone… I will keep you there until you beg for forgiveness, until you beg for me to hear. Your. Tale. And when you are at your weakest, burning with the need to feed, I will force on you a survivor of the plague and will ensure that my doctors prolong the agony of your death."

"Easy, Teyla," Sheppard held up his hand to stop the security detail from closing in on the three of them.

"Or you can tell me now… and your death will be swift," she said, tilting her head to the side.

"Atlantis…" the Wraith hissed, following the attitude of her head with his own. "The Elder seeks this place, and will reward any Hive that delivers those from the City to her."

"Oh crap!" Sheppard exclaimed.

"She. Will. Fail," Teyla whispered, and before Sheppard could stop her, she pulled the knife from her belt and savagely thrust the blade up through the Wraith's jaw and into his brain – killing him instantly.

"Get the bodies out of here," she said, still angry as she got to her feet, "They are all of them fitted with subspace tracking devices. I saw it in his mind."

She began to move toward the corridor leading further into the city. Sheppard hurried after her.

"Teyla, wait," he called as he caught her arm. "What the hell was all that?"

She snatched her arm from his grasp and turned to face him. "Why did you not listen to the warning I gave to you!"

"Now just a minute," he frowned, "don't you try and put all this on me."

"Why?" she snapped at him. "The responsibility is yours. If you had listened to me, then none of this would have happened."

"It wasn't that I didn't listen," he started, but she did not let him get any further.

"No, John, perhaps you are right, perhaps that is not the issue. Perhaps it is a matter of trust." she said angrily.

"All right," he confessed. "Maybe I do have a few problems with trust right now, but after some of the things you said to me when I came to visit with you, are you surprised?"

"Because I have a conscience you do not trust me?" she questioned loudly.

Aware that they were being watched, and listened to, he took her by the arm and none to gently pulled her out onto one of the balconies. As soon as he let go of her arm, she slapped him, hard, across the face.

The slap itself, though painful, did not hurt so much as the realisation that for her own good, he really couldn't tread gently with her any more. There were things she needed to hear, of which she needed to be reminded, no matter how hard they were going to be for her to hear.

"I understand that things have been tough for you, Teyla, I do," he started, "and because of that I've held back on… certain things, but you really need to know the kind of… person you're dealing with when it comes to Michael."

"Oh, believe me, Colonel, I know full well—"

"No, I don't think you do," he said, cutting her off. "Maybe you don't get what his intentions are regarding the people of this galaxy, and but for the fact that we worked our asses off to find you – he would have killed you without a second thought just as soon as he had your baby."

"You are wrong, you—"

"Am I?" he said angrily, hurting from the look of pain he saw cross her face. "Go check my log reports if you don't believe me. Coming back from a rendezvous with our Genii contacts I got throw into the future and I can tell you exactly what would have happened if I hadn't made it back – if we hadn't tried to find you. You would be dead, killed for your baby. Michael would be out there, indiscriminately killing Wraith and human alike, he doesn't care! All he cares about is that he subjugates the entire galaxy to settle his sense of hurt pri—"

She cut him off with another slap.

"You can slap me all you want, Teyla," he said, glaring down at her, "but it doesn't change the fact that you stood there, bare faced, in front of me, among your own people who have been taken and subjected to his regime of terror, and defended that mass-murdering son-of-a-bitch!"

**

He slowed their steps, and from the sounds ahead Vega knew they must be nearing the bridge. She couldn't help but move a little closer to him as she set eyes on the Wraith inhabiting the nerve centre of the Hive.

Under normal circumstances she might have been interested to see what the bridge of a Hive looked like, but she was just too deathly afraid that the Commander might have been told she was his for the taking. The thought made no sense, nor the fear, other than the Queen had said that this was what she had seen of Vega's desires.

As Todd brought them to a halt in the centre of the bridge, facing the display of Wraith characters that scrolled across a viewing screen, the Commander turned his gaze their way and Vega had to fight the urge to duck behind Todd, caught in the effects of her irrational terrors.

Instead, Todd brought her to stand in front of him, close against him, and wrapped his right arm across her belly to rest against her left hip, resting his other hand atop her shoulder, where he almost idly began a gentle stroking of her neck with his thumb.

She bit her lip, and snatched in a breath as warmth started to spread through her; as Todd's touch against her skin, against the bruise still left from their previous… encounter, rekindled all the doubts and curious wonderings, not only in her mind, but through her body also.

"What do you want?" The Hive Commander snapped aloud when Todd obviously did not answer his mental inquiry.

"I merely wished to view our progress first hand," he said, and behind her, Vega felt him tilt his head. "I have been… almost exclusively working on our Queen's instructions, and needed to know when we would arrive at our destination."

"And you bring a human to our bridge?" the Commander said harshly, stepping down from his console and approaching menacingly.

"I will bring my concubine where I wish," Todd answered smoothly, and drew Vega even closer for a moment.

His use of the word made Vega's heart and stomach change places. To hear the open secret, so plainly spoken between two commanders among the Wraith, and in front of other sub-commanders, was disturbing enough, but combined with the idle caress that had become almost a clear defiance of the Hive Commander, it left her trembling with the uncertainly of her own feelings, let alone of his. She swallowed, and knowing she should do something to display the mutual involvement in this supposed tryst, ran her own hand down the leather of the arm that surrounded her, and onto the back of his right hand, to run her fingers along his.

"After all," Todd continued, shifting his hand beneath hers, guided beneath her touch to slowly climb her body. "Our Queen has given her the freedom of the Hive… unless of course…" she had to stifle a small moan as she felt the warmth of Todd's hand at the underside of her breast, and felt him breathe out slowly, before he eased her away from him. She found herself standing beside the two Wraith who now faced each other. "…you wish to challenge me."

She stood on trembling limbs, looking between Todd and the Hive Commander. The rest of the bridge faded into darkness around them as the tension of the atmosphere between the two Wraith crowded in on her, tunnelled her vision. A buzzing started in her ears, and she began to feel lightheaded… a little sick.

Todd let out a long, low growl as he stared the Hive Commander down, until he stepped back.

"That won't be necessary," the Commander said, beginning to return to his place at the console. "Bring your plaything where you wish… just be sure that she does not get in the way."

He turned his head to snarl at her for a moment, before falling once more into unity with the ship, effectively dismissing the both of them. Others on the bridge, however, whose work was less involved, continued to stare.

Finally, after watching the scrolling display on the monitor for what seemed to Vega to be a hot and uncomfortable age, Todd held out his hand to her.

"Come, my dear, I grow weary of this," he said, and reached past her hand as she moved to take his, to close his fingers around her wrist, and to guide her from the bridge.

**

At Sheppard's words, Teyla felt hurt and anger in equal measure flooding in, to leave her trembling with it all.

"What I said—" she started.

"What you said, Teyla, was an insult to everything you've ever stood for. The words you said could just as easily come from Lorne's mouth, or… hell, even from Michael's own mouth… and you wonder why people think you've been brainwashed or… or turned or something!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded hotly.

"Open you eyes, Teyla. Michael has murdered and enslaved hundreds of thousands of people. Granted, what we did to him was wrong. The way we used him, unhumanitarian, but it was his choice to do as he's done, and to continue to do as he is." She opened her mouth to speak, but Sheppard continued, "And maybe now he doesn't have a choice otherwise – can't exactly turn himself in, he knows we’d kill him. I would kill him, happily, because in spite of the fact that things have changed from what I know of the possible future, too much hasn't changed and isn't changing. Michael still poses a clear and present danger to the entire galaxy. I, for one, am not prepared to see him succeed!"

Every word he spoke was like a blow to her face.

"And what of the Wraith?" she asked harshly, "What of their part in this future you've seen?"

"The Wraith have always been here, Teyla, their presence is beside the point right now," he said. "If it weren't for this war with Michael, sure, there'd be cullings, and the Wraith would still be taking people out every once in a while, like they've always done, but nothing, nothing like this."

"They are not beside the point, John, and that you cannot see that is proof that you are naïve and ignorant," she stepped closer to him, to grip his arm, trying very hard not to get stuck in the circular argument that this was in danger of becoming. There was no clear solution that she could see, no way to be proactive, instead of reactive to all that was occurring in the galaxy.

"This lecture is getting old, Teyla," he warned.

"Then try and listen to what I am saying instead of what you think I am saying," she implored him. "We – no… you created Michael in attempting to find a way to neutralise the threat that the Wraith are in this galaxy. How can they be beside the point?"

"I already said that I think the way we used Michael was wrong," Sheppard said, his tone rising in frustration.

"You say it but you do not feel it. You do not understand it." she told him.

"I understand that even if the Wraith were to roll over and play dead right now, it wouldn't change one second of what Michael has planned. He'll kill the Wraith, move on to the humans and those that aren't weakened by the Hoffan drug, he'll turn into hybrids and—"

"Your future, I suppose," she said coldly.

"No, Teyla, yours," he snapped, "unless you wake up and see what's really going on here. The SGC and IOA would pull us all out of Atlantis long before that became an eventuality."

"You can't know any of this," she let go of his arm and paced away from him. "To base such fears on what might come to pass just because of something you've seen and have now altered?"

"Teyla!" he roared her name, making her jump, "have you even heard a word of anything I've said?"

"I hear you admitting to wrongdoing on the one hand, and happily premeditating the death of another. I hear you disregarding a dangerous force in this galaxy. I hear you yet again disregarding your own responsibility for what has happened thus far and—"

"You really need to figure out whose side you're on here," Sheppard said, turning her to face him again, and pointing at her harshly. "Did you hear yourself in there? The way you threatened that Wraith…? I mean, where the hell did that come from?"

"I said what needed to be said to get him to talk," she snarled at him.

"I'd say you went well above and beyond the call," Sheppard said sarcastically.

"I am only trying to do what is right, John… with what is left to me," she implored him to understand. "Sometimes, to do that, we must walk in the darkness… and it is not comfortable, and it is not fair and it is often impossible, but—"

"And what about your son?" he cut in.

"—what kind of a person would I be if I did not even try?"

He talked over her, clearly not heeding her question, "That maniac that you're so quick to defend has taken your son, is probably doing all kinds of experiments on him, manipulating his DNA, if he'd even do that, considering—"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Teyla looked at the suddenly horrified look on Sheppard's face, the way he half turned away, as though he had said something he shouldn't, "John?"

"Look, just…talk to Keller." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, and she looked at him, fury in her eyes. "I saw the tapes, Teyla. I know what Michael said to me last time we fought, and—"

find my son," she said harshly, "and anything else to do with him is of no concern to you." She trembled as she stepped toward him, hurting from the doubts that had been pointed aimed her way and the barbs of mistrust they showed, before she continued. "Colonel Sheppard, I have heard what you have said, have borne your accusations and your questions, but no more. Our people are out there in the hands of the Wraith, and Michael or no Michael, they will always be a threat."

**

On the balcony above, Varnerin leaned against the stone sill and frowned in suspicion. Sheppard was among the most vociferous in defending the Athosian woman, and yet, in private, or so they thought, he all but accused her of the very thing of which she was most often accused. Perhaps Major Hollick had been right all along… and if Keller was… withholding evidence…

**

As they entered the laboratory, Todd closed the alcove on the hybrid. Vega was glad of that. She didn't need the sarcasm.

"Now you will have no trouble with the Hive Commander," Todd's voice was soft, and he turned to the workbench, accessing the computer to bring up the latest of his simulation results.

Vega watched him for a time. She ran her eyes over his broad shoulders, the precision in the movement of his hands and fingers, and almost felt them again moving over her neck.

"No," she said quietly, letting out a tremulous breath, "But I'm going to have trouble with you, aren't I?"

"Oh, come on, Todd," she glanced at him, but found that she could only fix her eyes on his shoulder, couldn't meet his gaze. "I mean… you didn’t exactly have to… go out of your way to—" She stopped talking as he started to move and finally looked up further than the top of his shoulders.

He passed close to her on his way to the door and raised his hand to the panel before turning to face her again. She jumped as he closed the laboratory door, and in spite of herself, backed away as he came back to her, until the small of her back came to rest against the workbench.

"Are you telling me that you have… changed your mind, Alicia?"

"I'm telling you that…" she raised her hands between them, not exactly to fend him off, though he was standing terribly close, and her heart sounded like a military tattoo inside of her. Her fingers came to rest against the warm leather of his coat, beside the buckle at his chest. "Well, what you did on the bridge…"

He slipped his hands along the undersides of her forearms, his fingernails scraping lightly over her skin. She shivered.

"You didn't seem to object," he said, his tone serious, though she thought perhaps she detected a hint of something almost… light-hearted… playful. "If I overstepped the mark…"

"What?" She blinked, "No… no… it's… fine… I…"

She realised suddenly that her fingers were playing with the buckle, and went to move her hands away, but his fingers closed gently around her upper arms, preventing them from moving.

"Then?" he tilted his head in query.

"Well, I'm just saying… you didn't have to do that. You could have gotten yourself into a lot of trouble and—"

"And?"

"After the little stunt we pulled the other day," she tugged a little on the buckle. She hadn't meant to unfasten it, but the leather was supple, and slipped right away from the metal at her tug. She took a sudden breath. To try and cover the way she was feeling, the trembling quickness of her breath, she said, "It's not as if there's much… mystery left between us; all that much to explore."

"Oh," Todd said lightly, easing her away from the workbench and turning her in his almost soft grasp, to hold her as he had been on the bridge of the Hive ship. "I think you'll find that we could have plenty left to explore…"

Once again, of themselves, her fingers found their way to cover his hand, to slide over his pale digits. She leaned her head back beside the opened buckle, breathing in small snatches and closing her eyes.

"If that was what you wanted…" he finished softly.

**

Varnerin nodded to the marine he passed in the corridor on the way to sick bay, and fixed a smile onto his face for the orderlies, in case he should meet any. At this time in the day – the graveyard shift – he did not think there would be any there. On call, perhaps, but unless the infirmary had any gravely ill patients, and since Lorne was now locked in the brig, and Hollick had been released to his own quarters, there were not, they would not be present.

He was not mistaken… and smiled to find the infirmary empty, and his path to Keller's office clear. The door was locked, of course, but with Zelenka's tablet, which the scientist had so conveniently left in Varnerin's office while he was still working on connecting his equipment, that would be little obstacle.

He quickly attached the data cable into the place of one of the crystals, and operated the tablet to unlock, and open the door, then carefully turned on only the table lamp with which to light the room as he searched.

It did not take him long to find what he sought. It was pushed to the back of the desk drawer in an unmarked file, half buried under the rest of the debris in the drawer. People were always so predictable. Quickly he took out the contents of the file and replaced it with paper from the printer, before putting it back where he had found it, and then satisfied turned out the light, and left the room.

Very soon he would know the truth of Teyla Emmagan.

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