Had he been discovered? He stopped, listening intently to the sound he heard behind him. His feet rested firmly and still on the soft forest loam, the still air amplifying the smallest sounds. There was rustling, then the sound of wings beating, the creature they belonged to flying about it's business. He exhaled, the sense of worry dissipating. He resumed walking, his pace quickening as the ground sloped upward and trees began to thin; the rock face the caves belonged to came into view. He supposed he was being too careful about every little noise, but he disliked the thought of the others following him and discovering what he was doing.
He emerged from the trees, the open sky dark with colors of violet and pink near the horizon. He spared a moment to look at the sky behind and above him. The sunlight shone brightly on the edges of the rings not obscured by the planet's shadow. He turned and saw the sheer cut face of the mountains, the mouth of the cave, gaping and jagged. The once smooth and bright stones of the archway were broken and deteriorating, telling of how many ages had passed. The lack of trees surrounding the entrance was eerie, forming a large circular area where there was nothing but patches of grass and stones, flat and symmetrical in shape. This is where his people had once lived.
The entrance of the cave was modest in comparison to the network of tunnels and caverns throughout. The network stretched far into the mountains, forming a system of roads underneath the mountains. He entered the cave, his eyes requiring no time to adjust to the lack of light. He stepped around the fallen boulders and rocks which littered the entrance led into the great cavern, the height and breadth seemingly as large as the mountains themselves. Columns of metal led from floor to the ceiling, smooth and still reflective, not being weathered like the stones outside the cavern. On the walls of the cavern, tunnels split off this way and that way. He had been here before, exploring. The story these tunnels told was of a race, ages old already at the time of their disappearance long ago. He had found artifacts, bits of wood, metal objects. There was even technology left in some places, devices of unknown function, long broken and their power sources depleted. He had collected most of those things into a single cavern not far from the entrance to be studied later. Sp far, he had found nothing of consequence; it caused him to wonder why he had been forbidden from exploring these caves.
His fascination with the history of this place set him apart from his brothers. They concerned themselves with battle, with thoughts of bloodshed and conquest. He too longed for the day he would be considered ready to join their armies among the stars, but knowledge and study was his element. He as well as his mentors knew he was destined to be a scientist, working under the direction of the queen. His brothers were fighters, skilled warriors. They fought with weapons, but he fought with knowledge. His difference from them often led to exclusion, although he had come to expect and welcome that. He could only handle so much talk of battle, how to sever a head, how to dismember this and that. When he grew weary of it, he would escape to these caves. That was years ago though, when all three of his brothers had been living there. Two of them had already passed the rite, and had joined the armies among the stars.
He walked for a long time through the labyrinth, coming to the entrance of the tunnel he explored the day before. He could see his own footprints in the dust leading in and out of the tunnel. He wasn't sure what the purpose of this section of the tunnel system was, but he guessed from the layout that it was living space. There were a multitude of medium sized rooms carved out of the rock on either side of the tunnel. The rooms and tunnels themselves were amazing, although he could only access the ones for which the doors were already open. The mechanisms that controlled them opening and closing had been long inactive. The walls of them were almost perfectly smooth, laid out with designs carved into the sides. He supposed the designs were entirely decorative since they didn't resemble anything like writing. Each room was mostly rectangular in shape, although the edges were very well smoothed, almost circular.
He stopped, debating whether he should continue down this tunnel even further. Currently, he wasn't having difficulty seeing, however the tunnel was darkening. He had lost all sense of color, the sights becoming gray and black. He looked to the lighting fixtures, wondering if there were a way he could turn them on. He rounded a bend in the tunnel, a few steps farther than he had traveled the previous time. At the opposite end of the tunnel, a light appeared. The sight startled him, and he paused, wondering what the meaning of it was. Nothing moved, so he continued on toward it, curiosity outweighing caution. On approaching the light, he saw that it led into a side chamber, the color of it orange.
Once inside the room, he almost gaped at the sight. The walls were moving. Images, writing, pictures all streamed in circular path around the room. In the center of the room, a console stood mounted to the floor. He never imagined he would see a working example of their technology. This exceeded expectation. He approached, curious at the sight. He could see the writing was his own language, although the sentence structure was a little odd. It seemed to be describing a census. Images started appearing on the wall, images of his ancestors, he realized. He became excited, realizing that he was actually seeing the likenesses of people who had disappeared thousands of years ago. There were faces of the men, but there were also women, and children. He wondered at how different this society was that long ago. All of them had a look of fear in their eyes. He searched around the room and saw the pictures were captioned.
'Declared dead.' The picture changed, and so did the caption. 'Joined enemy.' The picture changed to that of a young girl. 'Joined enemy.' What enemy were they referring to? He pondered that caption, wondering how anyone could consider a young girl as having joined an enemy. Surely anyone that young wasn't considered old enough to have made that sort of decision? He looked at the console, reaching out cautiously to touch the control. As soon as his fingertips touched the control, the pictures disappeared, replaced by a single paragraph.
'Wraith, you must decide. It was you who destroyed us, you who seduced our people into joining your ranks. Your conquest of the galaxy will be cut short when wraith finally realize their means to immortality was a lie; a corruption, and not a cure. Time is short. Choose, young wraith. Give up your false immortality and live.'
There were few times in his life when he had felt so terrified. He stared at the console in horror, as it seemed to be accusing him directly. It knew who he was. He backed away from it, the lights going out abruptly. He had never felt fear of these tunnels before, but now the walls themselves seemed to oppress him. He tore through the tunnels, running and tripping over the rocks, the bits and pieces of the long dead civilization. He emerged from the cave in a sprint, slowing down only once he had cleared the mouth of it. He stopped and stared at it, the silence of the calm evening and the forest soothing his nerves. He scolded himself for being so easily frightened. Still, he knew of automated defenses. The device surely recognized him as being wraith, and could have possibly attacked him in some way.
Now there were more questions in his mind. Questions that he would have to ask one more learned than himself. He glided along through the woods down the mountain, the journey lasting seemingly only a few minutes what was really a few hours. The base came back into sight, the visible portion of it buried partially in the side of a sheer cliff. Beyond and farther down the mountain was a valley which led to a rich hunting ground.
He and his only remaining brother were given the privilege to come and go as they pleased, however, he seemed to receive particular scrutiny as to his whereabouts, particularly from his brother. He reached the door of the base, a tiny archway in comparison to the rock face. The facility itself recognized him and opened the door before he even came within a pace.
The living quarters were quiet, and dark, meaning the others were likely resting. He sensed their presence nearby, meaning they were definitely here. He passed the locked doorways, the rooms leading into laboratories of obscure function, only to be used by a scientist appointed by the queen. He passed all these and approached the hallway leading into his quarters.
He was about to round the bend, but something gave him pause. He could smell something there. His attacker, knowing he was discovered, emerged in an instant, knife drawn. He drew his own knife from the sheath tied to his belt, the blade he had carved himself to his own liking. He made the first move, followed by his brother who blocked. They fought, slashed and thrusted the weapons at each other, sparing no mercy for the other. Suddenly, his own weapon was knocked out of his hand, and he was thrust against the wall, His own knife placed against his throat.
"Say it," his brother coaxed.
He hesitated, irritated that he had again lost his favored knife. "You won," he conceded.
"You will have to to better than that if you are to win in battle." His brother said as he released him.
"I did not let you surprise me," he argued. His brother flipped the knife over, catching it by the blade and offering the handle to him.
"It made little difference to the outcome," his brother mocked.
"You know combat is not my skill," he said taking the knife and re-sheathing it.
"You still need to know how to survive."
He turned the corner but turned to reply. "I do," he said in defiance. He opened the door to his quarters and stepped in, trying to forget the outcome of their fight.
As he had aged, he came to realize just how small the their rooms were. His mentors insisted that is all they would be allowed on entry to the hive ships, and that they should become used to it. The stories of the hardship they would experience as being low-ranking members aboard a ship had ceased to worry him or his brothers. They now regarded such things with humor, as being only a challenge to overcome.
The mirror across the room revealed just how much dust from the caves had accumulated on his clothing, hands and arms. His normally straight, long white hair looked unkempt and almost dark gray from the fine dust which permeated the caves.
He stepped back and found a comfortable spot on the floor, where he sat down, legs crossed in order to meditate. He metered his breaths, the technique that he'd been taught since a young age. He tried to concentrate, but every few seconds he found his mind wandering to a different topic, namely, the caves. What he'd seen disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.
He'd known for awhile that there was evidence of an era of their race which was very different than it was now. He'd tried bringing the topic up with his mentors, but they would always put down his questions, regarding the answers as unimportant. They would ask, 'Why are you so interested in a dead civilization? There is nothing to learn from them.' He wouldn't argue, he respected his mentors, but that didn't mean he agreed with them.
Images began to flow into his mind, as usual when he reached this state of meditation. What he saw was random images, feelings, sounds. He knew of humans, which dreamed during sleep, however, wraith did not sleep. He suspected what he commonly experienced was something similar to dreams.
Feelings of apprehension began to surface, and the images turned dark as though twilight. He saw images of a battle and heard the sounds of struggle. He saw his brother, alive and well for a moment, then suddenly he saw his severed head being held up as though a trophy. His mind in it's dream-state didn't form the image of the one holding it. He turned, and on the ground beside, he saw his own lifeless body, his face turned toward his own, eyes open and mouth agape. The lifeless body moved, moving it's head upright.
"Show compassion," he said to himself, staring with a plea on his visage.
The images changed, and he saw a hallway, one leading to a prison. He saw the grated door at the end, and someone inside, lying in a heap on the floor, although it was distant, too far to tell who it was. He felt compelled to go to them and release them. If he could just do that, the images he'd seen would go away, as though it never happened. He must prevent his own demise and that of his brother He started toward the door.
He jolted out of that state forcibly, as though he had dove into cold water. He looked around his quarters, noticing his heart beat faster. He felt fear, although he wouldn't have admitted it. The images had left him with a sense of apprehension, something which had never happened before. Surely the what had just happened was meaningless? Of course it was. He closed his eyes again to reach a state of meditation, focusing more intently on keeping his 'dreams' away.
"Clearly they do show intelligence." He argued, his voice in tones quieter than he normally would have been. He enjoyed hunting, and often made a competition out of it. He and his brother would travel away from the hills in which the base resided toward the valleys. The first to see and take down a suitable animal would be considered the victor. Today however, he wasn't feeling as enthusiastic about the competition aspect. There were too many other things on his mind.
"The same degree of intelligence as redzak," his brother replied after awhile.
"Redzak don't form communities, or build houses for themselves."
"Still, that is nothing compared to what we've built."
"I disagree, in fact I've read of several instances where whole civilizations were destroyed for the explicit purpose of limiting their development. In those cases, the civilization was deemed a threat to our own."
"You've been spending too much time in the archives."
"You don't believe it?"
"No, I believe it's like our mentors have said, they are like animals. They have no sense of morality like we do. They commit atrocities against each other, without hesitation."
He was silent as he recalled all the records of wars between their hive group and others. In those cases, there didn't seem to be any compunction against atrocities toward another of their own kind. He didn't know very much about human culture in regards to wars, but from what he did know, they were certainly not like animals.
They continued on silently, treading over the rough ground littered with rocks. He wasn't paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should have been. 'Give up your false immortality and live.' He couldn't stop thinking about it, wondering of it's meaning.
It was something that he had known all his life. His kind were biologically immortal, meaning they couldn't die of old age, only from disease or injury. All these abilities stemmed from their ability to feed. Could the message be intended to pursuade him to give up the ability to feed? He shook his head slightly, dismissing the thought as absurd. Such a thing was impossible. When he matured fully, he wouldn't be able to live otherwise. He looked at his left palm, knowing that soon it would be his only means of survival. Every day now, it was becoming more noticeable that regular food wasn't satisfying his hunger.
Supposedly the message was left there by his own ancestors, so why wouldn't they consider themselves wraith? Why would they go so far as to call wraith their enemies? What was the difference between the people that left the message in the caves, and wraith?
He may have asked these questions of his mentors, however exploring or even going near the caves had been discouraged for as long as he could remember. To ask such a question would surely cause suspicion. He didn't want to admit he had disobeyed his masters. Fortunately for the purpose of his excursions, his masters were not present at the moment. They were busy attending to other matters aboard one of the ships in their group. They would return that evening.
He glanced up at the sky which was visible through the tree tops. The sky was clear and slightly pink, the sun shining down and scattering through the thin spring leaves. His brother stopped, causing his attention to snap away from his daydreaming. He stopped too, now noticing a redzak grazing in a clearing directly ahead. He wouldn't argue about who would make the kill, his brother had been the first to spot it. His brother raised his knife to the ready. He hesitated briefly, quiet as possible, then lunged forward. The redzak noticed him only soon enough to turn around to flee, but it was too late. The creature was wrestled to the ground by the neck, all the while it threw it's neck and legs all around in an attempt to free itself. His brother stayed like that for a long time, seeming to hesitate.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he approached. What was he waiting for?
His brother cast the knife aside and lunged his right palm into the creature's side. The creature froze as he did so, paralyzed. This continued for several seconds until the creature lie still, dead.
His brother stood, his face showing a sense of excitement as he examined his bloodied palm. "I am ready to complete the rite."
He had seen this twice before with his oldest brothers. Being able to complete the rite wast the moment defining when they would be ready to join the hive ships. It was something he dreamed about ever since he was old enough to understand it.
The sun had set hours ago, and the night had reached it's calmest point, even the noise of the wind was not heard in the trees. He stood at a distance from the ring, waiting for his brother's return. His mentor had returned, as well as his brother's. They would witness the rite, and petition the queen to allow him to join her army, saying that he was a capable warrior, a valuable addition.
The world his brother had traveled to was a world within their own domain, a primitive agrarian people. He had seen the rite before, but never before had it carried such a sense of foreboding. He tried to calm his nerves, thinking that it must surely be only in his imagination, but he couldn't rid himself of it. He shut his eyes, but his mind's eye only conjured images of weapons, and his brother and himself lying dead. He forced his eyes open again, exhaling in frustration at not succeeding in shutting the images out.
The lights of the gate illuminated, startling his attention back to the ring. Not a moment delayed before a ship exited and flew the short distance back to the base. He watched as the ship threaded into the cave opening which opened into the small ship bay.
The prisoner would be re-materialized unconscious, then brought out to the grounds when he had fully awakened.
He started up the path back to the base to greet his brother.
Inside the base, he went straight for the brig, either suspecting or knowing that's where he'd be. Sure enough he found his brother standing outside of the vell door looking in, a look of impatience about him.
"He will not awaken soon enough!" his brother shouted to him.
He approached and looked into the cell, where a man lay in a heap, unconscious.
His brother pounded the grate of the cell with his fist several times. "Wake!" he shouted as his fist became bloodied.
"Surely you cannot expect that to help?" he reasoned.
His brother looked at him sharply, his eyes showing a sort of excited and crazed look. He stepped back from his brother, worried at his sudden agression.
"You know nothing, you hessak!"
"Hessak?" he questioned. "We are the same age."
He lunged forward at him, attempting to take his throat. He was too well learned in defense, and blocked the lunge, throwing a punch into his gut just to be sure he wouldn't try it again right away. He fell to his knees, clenching the spot where he received the blow.
"Perhaps you should rest," he cautioned to his brother, who was temporarily out of breath . He shot a hateful look, but came to his feet and turned to walk away.
"Let me know when he awakens," he grumbled as he left.
He was used to such erratic behavior from his brother, but nothing like this before. He began to wonder why he felt compelled to greet him in the first place.
He stood outside of the cell and waited for his brother to round the bend out of sight before he turned back to his own quarters.
The man groaned, causing him to turn quickly to face the door again. He watched as the man lifted his head, searching around with his eyes. His gaze finally landed on him, and his face showed distress. He closed his eyes, his face contorting into a look of agony.
The man said something, opening his eyes again and looking toward him. he seemed to be repeating the same phrase again. He opened his mind to the language, reading what he could from the man's barely conscious mind.
"Please don't do this," the man pleaded. "I have people I'm responsible for, a wife and children. Please don't do this to me."
Wife, children. He understood little about human culture, and didn't quite know what to picture with these words, except...The images from the cave came to mind. He saw children not of humans, but of his own kind, and women of his own kind, not as a queen, but as mates. Just like the images had shown. He put the images out of his mind, knowing that it wasn't so. It couldn't be.
"It is not I who will harm you," he replied in the man's own language. He found the words strange on his tongue, having never heard the language before.
"What are you going to do with me?"
He hesitated, wondering how much he would explain. "You are going to be killed," he said flatly, suddenly feeling apprehensive about what was about to happen to the man. Why apprehension? Why should he be concerned with his fate?
"Please," the man asked, his tone calmer, more sincere. He struggled into a sitting position, his limbs clearly still weakened. "Can you not show compassion?"
He stared into the cell at the man, astonished at the request. Now he was disturbed, even afraid. The visions he'd dismissed as meaningless came to life. He stared motionless, his mind barely comprehending what he'd heard.
"What did you say?" He asked, although he had heard what was said perfectly the first time.
"I have a wife and children," he stated again. "They depend on me to survive. Do you not have compassion if not for me, for them?"
Could his vision have foretold of this moment? Was that even possible? He looked at the cell door, knowing what the vision required. Could his decision now decide the fate of his brother and of himself? How could it?
He weighed the options, knowing that if he opened the cell door, both his mentors and his brother would demand he explain his actions. If he explained the vision, he would be mocked, and they would say he gave into a childish fear. What if he did not? How could this decision lead to his own death?
Even his modest number of years experience had shown him how small decisions could cause tremendous consequences.
He touched the wall, opening the cell door. The man looked outward in awe.
"I will show you to the stargate, but we must leave quickly."
"You would do this?"
"I cannot explain why," he said, not fully understanding why he felt the need to do this.
The man staggered to his feet and stumbled clumsily out of the cell, tripping and almost collapsing. He reached out to stabilize the man's movements.
"This way," he directed, pointing toward the end of the hallway. The door would lead straight outside, where the gate would be only a few hundred paces away.
He moved with silence, looking over his shoulder occasionally, knowing that his exit could very well have been detected. How was he going to explain this?
"Where is the stargate?" the man asked after a minute of walking. He had grown stronger, walking more uprightly.
"Very close," he replied, only a little way.
There was a noise behind him, he glanced in the direction of the sound, but could sense nothing. The wind was against their path, meaning someone could sneak up behind without him sensing it. He continued on, feeling more and more like someone was following him. He came to the spot where he had been standing earlier.
The trees rustled, and hurried footsteps approached. He turned just in time to see his brother land a blow to his chest which knocked him to the ground. During the next few seconds, he couldn't quite understand what was happening. He heard a weapon fire, a sharp explosion the likes of which he'd never heard before. The man shouted something above the noise, but he couldn't focus his mind on the language, being too distracted by trying to breathe.
He sat up and looked around, only to see he was surrounded by armed men, humans holding projectile weapons. He turned his head to the right and to the left, seeing that he was surrounded. His brother was on the ground beside him, clutching his side over what seemed to be a puncture wound.
"Don't hurt the other one," the man said, addressing the other men with an air of authority. "We will leave now." He turned and looked down to where he was still lying in the dirt.
"You have shown a sense of compassion, therefore so will I. But be warned, I will not do so again should you or your kind attack our people again."
He looked around at the men, seeing that they were dressed in simple agrarian clothing, and all of them were armed with crude weapons.
"Are these your people?" he asked.
"I am the leader of my clan, and these are my kinsmen."
He supposed he should say something in thanks, but it went against everything he'd been taught; that humans were inferior, animal like. He had no expectation to be thanking one for showing mercy, and yet, this was the case.
He simply stared dumbly.
"Let's go home," the man said turning away without further word, leading his men toward the stargate which was in view through the thin trees. He remained still until the last of them had turned their back.
He looked to his brother, who although was still silent, was clearly in pain. He needed to get him to help as soon as possible.
"They simply let you go?" his mentor asked him, his scrutinizing tone clearly showing he did not quite believe his slightly altered version of the story. He was second in command on one of the hive ships, a position which couldn't be gained without extremely sharp wit. He began to fear he would be forced to explain the truth.
His mind worked frantically while his demeanor and expression remained still. "I was already on the ground, and my brother was bleeding severely and posed no threat to them. My guess is they feared more of us would pursue them."
His mentor didn't alter his expression. "I checked the door control log for the brig. It showed no malfunctions, however someone did manually open the door at the time you say the prisoner escaped."
"We've known for some time the operating code of the door controls has errors in it. Perhaps what seemed to be a normal activation was a malfunction."
"I see," his mentor said, his tone indicating that he would not pursue the issue. "Then I trust you will spend the necessary time correcting it."
"Absolutely," he replied, making sure to appear slightly eager, although the prospect didn't appeal to him at all.
"Your brother has been severely injured," he said looking toward the door of the infirmary. "He will require days to heal enough to attempt the rite again."
"That is unfortunate."
"I trust there have been no other incidents in my absence?"
"Nothing to speak of."
"Good," he said turning to leave.
He stood still, waiting for his mentor to depart, then turned and headed toward the archives. He held his mentor in high regard, and it pained him to try and deceive him like that, but he could see no other alternative without explaining something he truly could not explain. It was his hope that the archives would provide some answers.
He turned into the open door of the historical and scientific archive, one of only two such archives in the entire alliance. It was a huge privilege to have access to it.
Inside, there was an array of consoles and screens, each with access to a different portion of the knowledge base. Behind the consoles,
He was searching for something specific. He paused in front of the console set aside for the study of the mind. The console recognized his signature, and activated. He thought of what search terms he could use to answer his questions. He entered into the console anything implying visions, or perhaps hallucinations. A multitude of subjects were returned, spanning hundreds of thousands of entries. All of the subjects he saw initially were describing mental illnesses found in humans. He narrowed the results to include only subjects about wraith. The list narrowed to a few thousand. Becoming excited, he added an additional search term, 'future.'
Only one entry was returned, 'precognition.' The entry explained that it was believed to be the ability of a person to sense events in the future. Numerous experiments had been conducted by scientists in their hive group over a span of a few centuries. It was thought if it could be harnessed, it could lead to strategic advantage over other alliances. None of the tests had come up with a conclusive answer as to it's existence. Only a few subjects over several centuries had been identified. While some of the subjects with the supposed ability had correctly predicted future events, the same subjects also predicted incorrectly often enough to discredit them.
He stepped back from the console, excited to know that he was one of a few that had this ability. Anxiety replaced excitement when he thought of what other visions he may have, and the decisions he'd be forced to make because of it.
He walked to one of the other consoles, looking to find answers to one more question.
He listened, although his eyes were blindfolded, he used what senses he could to become aware of his surroundings. His mentor put him through this exercise often, most often resulting in him failing miserably at defending himself. He had didn't quite understand how he would be expected to defend himself blindfolded, but he tried.
He heard the sound of rustling clothing and footsteps behind him, faint but perceptible. He could tell just from the sound how far away his attacker was. He waited motionless, making sure not to reveal that he was aware of his attacker. He wanted to wait until just the right...
A sharp blow impacted his head, sending him crumbling to the floor.
"You waited too long," his mentor taunted. He stood up, the throbbing in his head taking more time than usual to dissipate.
"I perceived you to be farther away."
The blindfold was removed from his head. "I noticed."
He touched the spot on his head, noticing the area was beginning to swell up, one more knot added to the others gained that day.
"You should tend to your bruises," he said, referencing the fact that he had various cuts and blood stains on his hands and face. His right index finger was still swollen and colored red where the rod his mentor was wielding had struck his hand earlier. With each injury, it added to the growing sense of weakeness that had been coming over him. He knew this to be hunger, although he delayed acknowledging it, not yet ready to complete the rite.
"Will this be all for today he asked, trying very hard not to sound hopeful."
His mentor nodded, walking over to the wall of the cave and resting his shoulder against it.
"Don't let the results here fool you." His mentor said just as took a step. "Your more skilled than you know."
He turned around, that statement coming as a complete shock. He had endured years of this abuse for as long as he could remember, receiving only backhanded insults as reward.
"I can say that now knowing that you will very shortly no longer be under my instruction."
"Sir?"
"You will be ready to complete the rite very soon, and thereafter you will join one of our ships. It is possible I may never see you again."
"I thought you had said I would be assigned to your ship?"
"Recent events have prevented that from happening. You are aware of the events surrounding Atlantis?"
"Yes, I have heard rumors of the Lanteans return to Atlantis."
"They are not the Lanteans, but humans, from a separate galaxy. As a result of their arrival, all hive groups were alerted at once to their presence, and the possibility of a new feeding ground."
"In another galaxy? How would we expect to find it?"
"That fact was not made immediately known when the alliances awoke all at once. It was first suspected that a forgotten planet within this galaxy had been discovered. Once all the hive groups realized this wasn't the case, conflict over resources ensued, and trust between alliances crumbled.
"Surely the keeper wouldn't allow..."
"The keeper is dead," he interrupted.
He stopped mid-sentence, not able to process that news immediately."
"Without that system to keep peace among the alliances, there will be continuing conflict."
"How could she have been killed? Surely she would have been well protected?"
"Humans from Atlantis infiltrated her ship while it was resting. The ship was caught off guard, and the keeper was slain. I'm sorry to say the state of affairs means you may have to learn to endure hunger."
He pushed off from the cave wall and headed toward the door.
"Just be thankful you were assigned to a ship at all." He turned briefly. "Not all of your brothers were." He disappeared through the archway.
Panic spread through his body starting at his gut and working outward. Surely his brothers had been assigned to ships; that is what his mentor had said before. Why would he lie? The only alternative for any wraith who was not assigned to a ship was to defect to another alliance, or to live alone. Traitors were not well accepted, so the latter was more likely.
The hunger had become worse, and he could sense that he was ready. Still, he delayed, doubt present in his mind. He looked into the tunnel, fine dust permeating the air and obscuring the way through. He needed answers. In the archives, he had searched through the records of wraith physiology, in particular evolution of the feeding mechanism. The detail was almost so minute, that it would have been easy to miss had he not been looking for it.
In each recorded stage of evolutionary changes, his species had retained the ability to process normal food into adulthood. It seemed for a time that the feeding trait was almost being diminished as though it was being selected out, and then very suddenly, it became dominant. Not only dominant, but becoming such that only one species would suffice to sustain them once fully mature. The records did not bring attention to this at all, which alarmed him.
That was why he was here. That console he'd seen looked something like a data terminal. It was his only link to find more answers about who this civilization was, and to confirm what they really meant when they said to 'give up your false immortality.'
He stepped into the cave entrance, following his last footsteps carefully. He no longer could walk blithely past each open doorway, now fearing what may be inside the pitch dark rooms.
He followed his footsteps until they diverged into the room that he'd visited before. The room was pitch dark, giving the sensation that the air had thinned out to a vacuum. He took one step inside, and for a moment nothing happened, until the lights finally sensed his presence and switched on.
The same console stood in the middle of the room, still displaying the same message it had left him with on his last visit. He approached it, examining the interface more closely.
The characters on the face were just like his own script, although the interface was entirely different from what he was used to. He touched the console and looked up to the projection.
'Wraith are arrogant to think they can use humans as they do. It is this evil which will ultimately be their undoing as one day, they will find what had been nourishment to them will be as poison. At that time, there will be nothing able to help them. You can live as Asteracaea once did, having respect for all races, peaceful instead of combative.'
Stargate coordinates appeared, replacing the text. He sounded out the glyphs, ensuring that he remembered the sequence.
He waited for a time, manipulating the controls of the console to try and extract more information, but his efforts were unsuccessful. He hunted around the room for a little while, looking for anything else that could be useful, but he saw nothing and finally simply exited. He walked through the tunnels into the cavern and out the cave entrance. Each of his steps felt heavy, and he had to stop for rest once on the way back to the base; something which he had never needed to do before. He could feel the growing hunger, different from anything he'd felt before. It was to the point of causing pain.
He needed to complete the rite soon, or he would die.
He'd worn armor before; it was lightweight and strong, resilient against many types of weapons. He wore a stunner strapped to his side. On the other side, his own crafted knife. He stood a distance from the gate, deciding which world in their alliance he would travel to.
"Travel at darkness," his mentor said to him. He looked to his right to see he had arrived, presumably to see him off.
"Only one world will be in darkness at the stargate at this time."
"That should be the one. Your brother was not so careful to remember this."
He knew the coordinates well, having memorized the glyphs from an early age, worlds which had been in their alliance territory for millennia. He approached the control, putting in the sequence.
He turned briefly to his mentor, the walked up the stone steps through the barrier.