Spoilers: Because of some similarities, this may contain spoilers up to and including Season Four, Vengeance.
Rating: T for some mild language.
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or any of the characters associated with it.
Chapter One
Teyla Emmagan adjusted her radio earpiece and checked the ammunition in her P90 sub-machine gun before giving her team leader, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, an affirmative nod. Sheppard sent her a series of hand signals then vanished into the dense tree line, the hulking form of Specialist Ronon Dex on his six, neither making a sound. She watched them go, trusting Ronon to guard Sheppard, or die trying.
Dr. Rodney McKay, her fourth teammate, huddled behind the remnants of a weathered, waist-high rock wall, his heavy breathing the only sound that disturbed the forest around them. She motioned him silent and hid a smile when he rolled his eyes at her. She poked her head above the uneven stones and studied the landscape. The trees loomed above them, burgundy leaves etched with shimmering veins turned in the light breeze, casting shadows on the mossy ground. The dampness soaked into her knees, and a chill slid along her spine. The lingering scent of decomposing vegetation did nothing to ease the rolling in her stomach. Her radio broke squelch twice, the signal that Sheppard and Ronon had assumed their positions on the opposite side of the clearing.
A ramshackle structure stood in the center of the clearing bracketed by wildflowers swaying in a serene breeze. Teyla studied the cabin as the psychological scent of her enemy drifted along her neural pathways. She despised Wraith, with their sharp teeth, feeding hand, and flowing white hair. They moved with a grace and agility that belied their true nature. No trusting them, as they would suck the life essence from one's chest faster than one could gasp for help. Sheppard called them vampires. Being Athosian and not of his world, she had not understood the reference until Sheppard had shown her some Earth movies. Vampire did seem an apt description.
Frigid tendrils seeped into her mind, stealing her breath; Dr. Beckett called it Wraith telepathy. Whatever the name, she felt a deep stirring as the Wraith in the woods sent out mental feelers. Teyla tolerated her hint of Wraith DNA, but today the curse served a purpose. She opened her mind and searched with her senses. She felt the presence of many Wraith tracking them from the trees. Inside the cabin, she sensed another presence, Wraith, and yet not--weak, possibly injured, angry. She signaled Sheppard, three steady breaks in squelch for first contact. After a few heartbeats, Sheppard broke squelch once followed by two more rapid static squawks, the 'get ready' signal. Teyla met McKay's wide eyes with a look meant to calm. Rodney acted high-strung on a normal day--add the Wraith and potential loss of his own life, and he tended to panic. She gripped his arm with a quick nod toward the clearing.
"Ready?" Her whispered question hung between them. She watched McKay struggle to harness his fear.
"Yes, yes, of course I'm ready. The highlight of any mission—plunging headlong into Wraithified hunting shacks with little to no back up. It's what I live for."
"Shh!" The man was impossible. "You will give away our position and ruin Colonel Sheppard's plan."
"Plan? You call this a plan? Four against, oh let's see, an unknown number of Wraith with little ammo and no way to get past them. Forgive me if I seem a bit defeatist."
Teyla angled her chin downward and pinned McKay with a hard glare. "We must be prepared or Colonel Sheppard and Ronon will not have back-up. There is only one Wraith in the cabin. The others are farther away, scouring the forest." She turned and faced the clearing just as the creature inside the structure sent out another psychic feeler. She gripped her P90 and squeezed her eyes shut against the invasive tidal waves.
Three rapid squelch clicks over the radio and her eyes snapped open. They had a 'go'. Teyla slipped out of the shrubbery and sprinted across the clearing. She made it half way there when a jagged telepathic twinge halted her forward motion.
Help me!
Teyla shook her head in an attempt to clear it and flexed her grip on the P90.
McKay swerved to avoid her, slipped on the dew-laden grass, and went down. Teyla grabbed the back of his tactical vest and hauled him to his feet. She struggled to take steady, even breaths, fighting the pull of the voice in her head. From a distance, she heard McKay, the panic in his whispered voice clear. At least he had remembered to whisper.
"Teyla, are you okay?"
"I am fine." She gave a mental shove, pinning the voice into a corner, and built a psychic barrier around it, reducing it to a faint murmur. She glanced at McKay. "Go." She pushed off and resumed her sprint toward the cabin, knowing McKay followed, her trust in these descendents of the Ancients unwavering.
As she rounded the front of the structure, gunfire erupted in the distance. The radio crackled to life.
"We have contact with Wraith. Proceed with the mission. We'll meet you at the cabin as soon as we kick a little ass. Sheppard out."
"What? We can't leave them to fight on their own. We have to go help." McKay slowed, his eyes trained on the outlying trees.
Teyla grabbed a handful of McKay's jacket and yanked him around to face her. "No, we must complete the mission. Colonel Sheppard and Ronon can handle themselves."
She climbed the stairs leading to the front door and took the position on the left; McKay took the right. At her nod, McKay threw open the door and she spun into the room, P90 sweeping the corners. McKay slid in behind her, mirroring her sweeping motion with a trembling grip on his own 9-millimeter Beretta pistol. Silver light filtered in through broken windows layered in dust, casting the room in muted shadows. Teyla pulled up, sharing a glance with McKay.
"Huh, there's no one here." McKay relaxed his stance and dropped the Beretta into his thigh holster. As he snapped the clasp over the handle to secure it, the sound echoed in the vacant room.
"Something is not right." Teyla turned a slow circle, studying the walls and floor. "Do not relax yet, Rodney. I sense a Wraith-like presence close by."
"Oh, well that's just great. Have they escalated from 'phantom' to 'invisible' powers?" McKay reached down, unsnapped his thigh holster, and notched up his chin. "How close... exactly?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Teyla caught movement in the rafters. She raised her P90 and fired at a blur of motion that dropped to the floor in front of her.
The assailant twisted the P90 from her grasp and flung it aside before zapping McKay with a Wraith stunner pistol. The blast knocked the astrophysicist backwards into the wall.
McKay's eyes rolled back in his head as his body slid down and landed in a heap on the floor, right hand cupped around the Beretta he'd managed to pull half way out of his thigh holster.
The assailant hovered over McKay. "Not invisible, just smarter than you."
Teyla lunged for her P90, but the assailant spun around, sensing her intent, and kicked away the weapon, blocking her path.
Teyla, I do not wish to harm you or Dr. McKay. I seek your help.
Teyla froze. Her eyes traveled upward, over dirt-encrusted boots, leather clad legs and chest, reaching the face hidden in shadows.
"Do I know you?" She rose to her full height and tipped her head to the side.
Quite well, actually. The assailant stepped forward. Light seeped in from a hole in the roof, unveiling his face.
The air left her lungs, and a wave of dizziness crashed over her, tumbling her emotions as if they were mere pebbles on a mighty beach. "Michael... we thought you were-"
Dead, yes I know. It suited me to let you think so--until now.
"What do you want?" Teyla met his eyes with what she hoped resembled a defiant glare. Defiance turned to outrage at his soft chuckle.
Teyla, I do love your spirit. I look forward to expanding our relationship into one that we shall both savor.
"If you wish to 'expand our relationship' you will speak to me with real words, not inside my mind."
Michael shifted closer until she felt his leather coat brush against her TAC vest. He raised his hands and angled them near her temples, his gaze locking with hers. His hypnotic voice echoed in her mind as he dipped his face to within an inch of her own and inhaled her scent.
It is easier to speak telepathically than waste breath and energy forming words. I thought you might appreciate the ability. I can see you are not yet comfortable with your Wraith gifts.
Ice flooded her body as Michael breached her mental barrier. She attempted to pull away, but his golden eyes captured her. When he moved, she followed, caught by unseen binds, stopping when he stopped, the daylight from above illuminating her face.
I do not possess Wraith gifts.
Ah, so you would have me believe, but your response is proof enough that you lie—unless I bring out the Wraith in you. A sardonic tilt of his lips accompanied his thoughts.
Teyla struggled to look away, pushed against the pressure building inside her head, but could not break free. I fail to see the humor in your comment. Please, release me so that we might speak normally.
Michael raised his hand and stroked her cheek with one pale finger. We are speaking normally. It is a shame you reject such a natural part of yourself. His hand fell away, but his gaze never wavered. Teyla, trust me...please.
Relying on instinct, with a sigh, she closed her eyes and let him in.
"Teyla, open your eyes."
Teyla complied, surprised to find herself standing next to a human Michael in a meadow filled with the sight and scent of pawkesh, her favorite Athosian wildflower. The healers among her people had used the dusky, lavender blooms to ease anxiety; the women had made from the petals candles to burn when sleep eluded the restless. Her mental heaviness eased, allowing her to draw a ragged breath.
"What is this place?"
Michael bent and plucked a pawkesh, then straightened and handed her the flower. "Do you not recognize one of your memories, a safe place to which you retreat when necessary? I thought this way of communicating might be easier for you to accept."
"Why did you summon us with your distress call?" She raised the flower to her nose, inhaling the comforting smell of home.
Michael sank down next to a weathered tree stump, lounging back against it, basking in the warm sunlight. "I knew the Lanteans would investigate the distress call. I hoped your team would come, that you might persuade Colonel Sheppard to...relocate me."
"You are Wraith. Do you not wish to return to a hive?"She felt Michael'sfrustration and anger radiate along the threads connecting their thoughts. She eased down beside him and reached out with her mind, brushing against his thoughts with a gentle gesture. "Michael? Tell me."
Michael's eyes twitched once and focused on a clump of dirt at the edge of the meadow before Teyla felt him tamp down his resentment.
"You must understand, only the strongest Wraith survive. The others did not accept me the first time I rejoined the hive. The second time... lets just say I did not find it a pleasant experience. It mattered not that Dr. Beckett's experiment failed. My brethren sensed my half-human traits, my weakness. In a hive, weakness equates to death. I struggled for every meal. Thanks to Beckett, I could no longer feed upon humans. Hunger became an unquenchable fire. I learned to eat as a human in order to survive. In my desire to save myself, I bargained for protection. I targeted the strongest Wraith with the remaining retrovirus Dr. Beckett left behind on the planet, turning them human in order to feed the weaker, starving Wraith. In exchange, they protected me from the others. The queen did not appreciate my gesture and placed a bounty on my life."
Teyla studied him as his gaze shifted from the distant field to the ground in front of him. His anger at what the Lanteans had done to him, how they—and she—had treated him, flashed, palpable.
"I am sorry. I did not agree with the experiment the Lanteans conducted, nor did I wish to keep your identity a secret once you began to remember your past. However, I do not believe the Lanteans will be overly helpful in your given situation."
Michael's head came up; his eyes narrowed. "My inability to reintegrate myself into Wraith society is a direct result of Dr. Beckett's experiment to make me human. The Lanteans owe me. I want my life back."
"Do you realize what you are asking? If they find you here, they may assist you in escaping this world, only to hold you captive on Atlantis." Teyla cocked her head to one side. "Is that what you wish?"
"The gate is in orbit. If Dr. McKay can recover a Wraith dart, I'll be out of your way—for good." Michael tensed, tipping his head and staring with unfocused eyes. "The other Wraith are fighting Sheppard and Ronon. Should your team fail, the Wraith will kill your friends and then come for me."
Teyla's eyes sharpened as she faced him, her voice laced with steel. "My team shall win. They are fierce fighters. Colonel Sheppard does not give in to his enemy, and Ronon will stop at nothing to ensure the death of many Wraith."
Michael's mouth turned up at one corner. "I see your trust in them has not wavered since last we met." He glanced upward, glimpsing not the cobalt sky, but some other vision only he could see. "It appears your faith is well placed."
A splintering sound jerked Teyla back to the cabin. Her eyes shot open in time to see Ronon kick open the half-closed cabin door. Sheppard dived into the room, Ronon on his heels, both rolling and gaining their feet, weapons trained on the Wraith.
"Wait! It is Michael." Teyla stepped in front of Michael, arms raised, hands palm out. "He is requesting sanctuary." She met Sheppard's raised brow with a nod. Glancing over her shoulder at Michael, she tried to look reassuring.
Teyla watched the fading light shift; Michael's white hair and pale skin shifted with it, turning silver-hued. His golden eyes tracked from Ronon's murderous sneer to Sheppard's incredulous look before returning to her face.
Will you help me?
I will speak with them, but I make no promises. Teyla became aware of Sheppard calling to Michael, demanding he step back. His voice sounded odd, metallic, as though he were speaking through a weak radio connection. She tried to reply, but remained caught in Michael's eyes.
Michael, we must answer Colonel Sheppard or he will harm you. A brilliant flash of light illuminated Michael's nod of agreement seconds before her mind went dark.
A/N: Apparently the SGA writers and I had similar ideas. I have been working on this story since right after the first Michael episode, but hesitated to continue because of the direction the show took with the Michael character. I am posting the first chapter just to see if it is even worth finishing. Please give me your honest feedback. Thanks.