The Descent of Wraith
Gray.
The color predominated. The walls. The floor. The fixtures. A table. A small bed. Sturdy metal that enclosed the room, enclosed the ship from the harshness of space as it traveled steadily. It was a sad color. Muted. Utilitarian. Not like the livelier walls of Atlantis with bubbling water and pretty shades of blues and greens. Soothing shades that felt like home. That looked like home. That quietly sang a tune only he could hear.
Johnny Sheppard stared round at the all the gray, recognizing it as he recognized the hum of the Daedalus. It's massive engines speeding them out of the Milky Way galaxy and into the Pegasus galaxy. Secure in his mother's arms he held onto her, little hands clasping her green shirt as she navigated her way to the viewport where his cradle stood.
"There you go, darling." Moira Sheppard kissed her son, nibbled his ear, making him giggle. She smiled, set him into the cradle. "Watch the stars, Johnny." She turned him towards the viewport. The baby gurgled, staring. Moira moved to try to create some semblance of order in the small cabin. Although the bulk of the items purchased for the baby were stowed in a cargo hold the room was still inundated with several things that would be needed over the eighteen day journey.
Bags and bags of baby clothes dominated. She tried to stack them against a wall where packages of diapers stood, where a brand new stroller was folded. Boxes of new toys were piled haphazardly. She moved her luggage and her husband's to the other side of the room, climbing over the bed to do so. She sighed, shook her head. Hearing the baby exclaim she looked at him. The infant was pulling himself up to his feet. Little hands clutching the edge of the cradle. He was staring as the stars blurred to colorful streaks. Moira felt the ship jolt as it entered another hyperspace window. The baby prattled loudly, feeling the motion as well.
Moira smiled, moved to him. Touched his back to steady him. "Yes, darling." She kissed his cheek, stroked his back. "Look! Blue. Purple. Green. Violet. Pretty colors."
"Ba! Ba ba!" The baby pointed.
"Blue, yes, Johnny. Lots of blue, isn't there?" she noted, as the swirls of color were many shades of blue. Cobalt. Royal. Turquoise. Sapphire. Drowning out the other colors. "You will have to ask your Uncle Rodney about that. Why there's a preponderance of blue."
"God, no!" John Sheppard stated unequivocally, entering the cabin. He stood watching his wife and son as they stared at the stars.
Moira smirked at his tone, glanced over her shoulder at him. "Hey, John."
"Hey, Moy. Captain."
"Dada! Dada goo! Baba!"
"Now he gets it right, where no one can hear him," John said with a sigh.
"Baba!" the baby repeated.
"Huh?"
"Blue. He wants you to come look at this," Moira translated.
"Oh. Right." John joined them, stepping round the piles of luggage and bags with a smirk. He touched Moira's back. The baby glanced at his parents, gurgled. Looked back at the stars.
"Baba! Baba boo! Boo!" The infant pointed again.
"Yes, Johnny, blue. Lots of blue," Moira agreed. She turned to John. He was staring at the rushing wormhole, expression pensive. "John? What is it? Is that unusual?"
"Maybe. I'm no physicist but I don't recall that much blue in the wormhole." He glanced at his son who moved unsteadily. Fell onto his bottom. Crawled towards his father. Pulled himself upright to stare at him.
"Dada! Dada goo. Ba ba. Baba boo!"
He smiled. "Well, you don't seem upset by it either, captain." He touched the baby's back, helped him stand on his little feet. Eyed the stars again.
Moira was staring at John. At his long, lean form encased in his BDUs. A black t-shirt. Gray pants. Gun holstered on his thigh. "John...I haven't had time to go over all of the research, so let's cut to the chase, shall we? What is the origin of the Wraith?"
"What?" he asked, gaze locked on the blue swirls as he steadied his son. The baby was standing on his little feet, tentatively taking a few steps.
"You said you knew the origin of the Wraith. Back on Earth, remember? So? Care to share with the class?"
He met her gaze, smiled. "Ah. No. Not yet. I want you to look at all that science crap, er, stuff," he corrected to her frown, "first, and see if you come to the same conclusion as I did. I could be wrong. I'm no scientist, you know."
"Yes, I know," she sighed dramatically, making him frown in turn. She smiled. "And I told you, I haven't had time yet. So just tell me, would you?"
"The answer is right in front of you, Moira." He looked back out the viewport. "Wow...that is a lot of blue. I mean a lot," he mused.
Moira was about to make a sarcastic comment but had turned to look as well. Curious at his interest. "John, do you think this is important?"
"Hell if I know, Moira. It caught junior's eye."
"Because he likes the color blue," Moira reasoned.
"Dada!"
"Okay, son." John lifted the baby, held him. Turned him to see the stars. "What's that, junior?"
"Baba!"
"Blue, yes."
"John, you don't think he's–" Moira's comment was interrupted as the ship veered. She fell against the cradle. John stumbled, catching himself. Claxons wailed.
"Shit! What the–" John began.
The ship jerked again. John fell backwards onto the bed, onto his back as held the baby to his chest. The baby prattled, secure in his father's arms. Giggled. Moira fell sideways, hit the floor with her injured side.
"Ow!" she complained. The stab wound was healing but still sensitive.
"Moy? I think we just fell out of hyperspace," John realized, staring out the viewport. Stars glinted in the black expanses. "Are you okay?" He moved to his feet, stepping to her as the baby exclaimed. "What? Moy?"
Moira awkwardly stood, hand at her side. "I'm fine! Look!" She pointed to the viewport.
John stared. The nebulous wave of blue was expanding. Enveloping the ship. Blotting out the distant stars. Shading the darkness of space with hues of blue.
"Colonel Sheppard to the bridge!" a voice announced, shouting over the alarms.
"Here! Let go, junior!" John handed the baby to his wife, disentangling his shirt from the baby's firm grasp. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked, glancing at her side.
"Yes. We're coming with you!" Moira grabbed the always ready diaper bag, slung it over her shoulder. Carried the baby out of the cabin, following on John's heels as he strode to the bridge.
To keep up with his long stride she nearly jogged after him. The baby prattling happily at the bouncing motions as he stared round the ship.
The bridge was engulfed in the blue light which filled the entire viewport. "Sir?" John asked, moving to Steven Caldwell as the older man stood, staring at the sight. Moira stopped short, staring as the baby exclaimed in her arms, pointing.
"Baba! Baba goo! Gaga! Gaga goo!" he called his father.
"We don't know what the hell it is, but it yanked us out of hyperspace," Steven explained. "The readings are off the charts! All over the board, nonsensical. I want you to take an X-302 and see if you can get closer to it."
"John?" Moira asked, panic in her voice.
He glanced back at her. "I'll be fine, Moira."
"Sir! We're moving forward! It's drawing us in!" one technician announced.
"Pull back! Main thrusters!" Steven ordered.
"It's not working, sir!"
The blue light intensified, almost blinding in its brilliancy. It was filling the ship. Entering it.
"Baba!" the baby exclaimed. "Boo! Boo! Gaga! Gaga goo!"
John knew. Somehow he knew. Acted on instinct. He whirled, rushed to Moira. Pulled her to his arms, shielding the baby between them.
"John? What the–" Moira asked, startled. Staring as the entire bridge was bathed in a blue light. John was bathed in it as well, appearing ethereal, a handsome vision as the light seemed to intensify around him. Around them as he pulled her closer to him.
John wrapped his arms around her. "Close your eyes!" he ordered.
"What?"
"Close your eyes!" he shouted, trying to be heard over the sirens, the alarms. Over the blue light surrounding them, isolating them. He could discern a high-pitched whining sound. He pressed her close to him, protecting the baby between them, shielding his eyes and his ears. Once Moira had closed her eyes he closed his. "Hold onto him, I'll hold onto you, and whatever you do, Moira, do not let go!"
"Sheppard!" Steven shouted, squinting. The family was all but lost to the blue light swallowing them. Obliterating them. He stared, blinked, trying to see. He could barely make out their forms as the light enveloped them. Then it was gone.
So were the three Sheppards.