“Sickness —?” repeated the Wraith commander, but the Queen spoke over him, seizing the opportunity.
“Of course we will,” she said silkily. “If you in turn help us, Kullid. You said that Rodney was being less than truthful. Please explain.”
“The Atlanteans have knowledge of the Aegis, I know it,” he went on, moving toward McKay. “They left our world through the portal to gather it up and return here.” He looked at the data screen and nodded. “Inside that device. Yes, I am certain of it. They carry the words of more texts than I have ever seen before!”
“No, that’s not it at all,” Rodney managed, clutching at the portable computer. “This is, uh, I just use it for playing Minesweeper —”
The Queen gave the smallest of nods and one of the Wraith warriors stepped forward and slammed his stunner rifle into the back of McKay’s knees. Rodney howled and crumpled; Sheppard surged forward to step in and received the same blow from another of the masked aliens.
He hit the decking hard, and saw Ronon take the opportunity to rush his own captor; it was a bold but futile move. The Wraith commander spun and slammed the butt of his pistol into Dex’s chest, putting the Satedan down with one blow. Keller ran to him, desperately checking his pulse. Ronon groaned and coughed.
Kullid pulled the data screen from McKay’s hands with a savage jerk and turned to present it to the Queen. She inclined her head in thanks and tap-tapped a curved nail on the plastic surface, a curious smirk playing on her lips.
“Take this,” she handed the computer to another Wraith, this one in a leather long-coat of the kind their scientist cadre liked to wear. “Drain it dry.”
“We can translate the human language,” he replied. “It will be done.”
“Tell me you encoded that thing,” said Sheppard.
“Of course!” McKay retorted hotly. “I’m not stupid…” He trailed off. “I just hope I encoded it enough.”
“Well,” said the Queen, flashing them a shark-toothed smile. “It appears that the advantage is mine.” She glared at Sheppard. “You have won so many victories, John. I wonder if you remember what being on the losing side feels like.”
“I remember,” said the colonel, steel beneath his words. “I remember every man and woman we’ve lost to your kind.”
“That is good. I would hate to have to remind you again.” She nodded at the Puddle Jumper. “I think I will begin here by taking this little vessel as a trophy. You will convey me to my Hive.” She walked casually toward the rear of the ship, the scientist and a cluster of warriors moving with her. “And do bring Rodney with you.”
“What?” McKay piped, clearly unhappy with the suggestion.
The scientist eyed him. “He may come in useful if his data device proves…difficult.”
The Wraith commander prodded Sheppard in the back. “Go, prey. Do as you are told.”
“Colonel?” Keller gave him a terrified look.
Sheppard got to his feet and returned the gaze, looking at Keller and then Ronon in turn. “You two stay here. Keep safe, understand?” When the doctor hesitated, he silently mouthed something else. For now.
Keller nodded, fighting back her fear.
“Your highness?” said Kullid, trailing after the alien female. “And what should I do?”
The Queen gave him an indulgent glance. “Tell your people the truth about us, Kullid. Spread the word.” She nodded to the commander. “Remain here. Help him understand our kind.”
The Wraith officer bowed. “As you order.”
Fenrir’s avatar stood motionless before a panel at the rear of the chamber, above which a wide oval screen showed a cutaway display of his starship’s interior spaces; many sections of the craft were dark across numerous levels where the internal sensors were inoperative.
Teyla watched him work the screen via thought, her gaze flicking between the holographic Asgard and the chilled capsule where the real flesh-and-blood Fenrir lay in stasis.
Across the room, Colonel Carter caught her eye. She nodded toward the alien, and her inference was clear. Talk to him. Find out what you can.
The Athosian approached the panel, as Fenrir muttered something in a low voice. “Is something amiss?” she asked.
He glanced at her. “I cannot understand how the Wraith were able to approach my ship so swiftly, without detection. How did they locate me? I ensured the complete destruction of all their craft, blanketed this system and nearby space with a dampening field to retard subspace communications.”
“The Wraith can communicate through other means,” she noted. “They possess a telepathic ability.”
“That is known to me. But the range of that ability is limited.”
“For common Wraith, that is so. But the Queens aboard the Hive Ships… They are much stronger.” Teyla shivered as she thought of the cold psionic tendrils of the Queens she had encountered, and the scars they had left in her psyche.
The avatar nodded, accepting this. “I understand. It was my error to preserve the lives of some of the Wraith from the last craft I destroyed. I was curious. I sampled the superior elements of their genetic code in order to…” He paused, as if he suddenly realized he had said too much. “Their regenerative qualities are quite incredible.” After a moment, Fenrir looked at her. “I believe the Wraith have been looking for me for some time, perhaps since the aftermath of their first attack on the Aegis, when I arrived in the Pegasus galaxy. Other Wraith have come to the Heruun system in the past.”
“You fought them.”
“Yes. I deployed Risar aboard remote auxiliary craft and used my technology and skills to dispatch them. They were formidable adversaries.”
Teyla nodded. “And in doing so, you preserved the lives of all the humans on Heruun. You protected them.”
Fenrir leaned back, his expression tightening. “Despite whatever the Herunni believe, I engaged the Wraith in combat only to protect my vessel and myself, not them. I turned the Wraith to my use as I did the human tribals. I could not construct replacements for certain elements of my ship’s systems, so I used recovered pieces of their bio-technology to fulfill the same function.” He looked away. “I am not a guardian or a god. The Asgard have played that role all too often and it has only ever brought us difficulty.”
Teyla opened her mouth to speak, but Fenrir’s avatar moved away. “I must ensure that the Wraith do not surprise me again. Bring the warrior here.” The last words were directed at the three Risar surrounding the lone captive Wraith.
“Obeying,” The clone creatures spoke the word with one voice, and deactivated the paralysis field. The warrior gasped and stumbled forward a step.
At the engineering console, Colonel Carter reacted by snatching up her P90. “What’s going on?”
“I am not certain,” said Teyla; but she suddenly had a creeping sensation across the flesh of her back.
“I cannot risk any compromise of my work,” said Fenrir. “It was my error to let this creature live. To sever any possible telepathic conduit to this ship, it must be put to death.”
The Risar raised the orb-devices in their hands and aimed at the Wraith; in turn, the warrior threw up its hands in self-defense. “Wait!” it shouted. “Wait! Do not kill me, Asgard…”
Teyla hesitated. “It knows his species…”
“It could have heard any one of us say that,” said Carter.
“Fen…rir!” The Wraith ground out the name between gasping breaths. “You are… Fenrir… Asgard!”
All at once there was something else in the room with them. It was nothing tangible or visible, nothing seen by Colonel Carter, Fenrir and his Risar or the sensors of the Aegis; only Teyla and the Wraith could sense it, a stygian tide of bitter thought pressing its way out through the void, and into their minds. Teyla forced the gates of her own consciousness shut, holding them fast by sheer will. A groan escaped her lips.