Disclaimer: I do not own any part or piece to the stargate universe, but I am playing with MGM's concepts.
oOo
I will never forget the fear in the Wraith's eyes as it began to feed. . . . His mind had swirled around the events of the last five years. Now, as dawn broke on the first day of the new year, at least on this world, he allowed his mind to fixate on different turning points.
It began with his recruitment into the Stargate Program right out of the U.S. Naval Academy. He'd been told that, because of the excellence he strove for and had attained by graduating at the top of his class, he'd been "selected" to take part in the world's best kept secret. Looking back now, his sponsor into the SGC clearly had no real clue.
Then came his orders to the Atlantis Expedition not long after his arrival at the SGC. What a doozy! He really did relate to the then-Major Sheppard. How did we ever take it all in? Is it any wonder that we became fast friends, even with him being my superior officer?
And that first year on Atlantis, at what point could you stop the story once the telling started? From Atlantis's rise, our first encounters with the Wraith, flying in a Puddle Jumper for the first time, or firing an alien stunner. How about all those kids? He still felt old every time he thought of them. The Brotherhood, the Genii, the Athosians. . . . How many peoples did we come across?
Of course, there was the siege and the specific event thereof that forever changed his life. I wonder how my life would have played out if that day had not come. . . . He didn't let his mind stay there too long. Real life was depressing enough.
"Who could forget the day when you woke up on a Wraith's cruiser after being forced to choose it, and then made your escape as if you owned it?" he whispered to no one in particular. And, with the stories surrounding that time being able to recruit his first "Merry Men?"
The Hive. No, it was not possible to ever forget the Hive. The plan to kidnap his old team in the hopes of persuading them to come over to his side. . . . Oh how arrogant I was! The fiasco that mission turned into, the loss of all he'd built, all because of his overconfidence. He allowed the weight of the emotions to hit him again. It still hurt, but the sting had lost its edge.
His escape from the Hive— easily his fondest memory. He'd been pinned down trying to cover John as he went back to rescue the rest of the team. He had no idea that he'd taken cover in a Wraith transport as he led the incoming away from John's position. But how much luckier does one man get? The last thing he remembered of the Hive was it's explosion as he'd finally succumbed to all the stunner blasts he took as the Wraith scrambling to make their escape in the transport. As darkness settled, he thought, If I could do it all over again. . . .
And, then, he was awake, just like on the cruiser, except found himself in the same agony that started this dark turn as the Wraith began to feed on him. They had cleared of the wreckage of the two Hives and had landed on a planet with a stargate. Apparently, the Wraith thought this would be a good time to feed. A smile played at the corner of his lips. Oh, how wrong it was! The rush of the enzyme hit his system ,and the last thing the Wraith would remember was the sound of it's neck snapping under his hands.
The rest of the last three-and-a-half years came and went in a blur as he heard different rumors about the Expedition. The loss of Dr. Beckett. I will miss his annoying backtalk. The city's short-lived league with the Wraith. How could they stoop so low? The day they lost Dr. Weir and the events that led to a military commander. How could a military officer replace her? The appointment of a new civilian commander and all the trouble that the IOA brings. Need I say more? And, of course, the attack on Earth that forced the Expedition to take Atlantis back to the Milky Way. How grateful he was to hear of their success and subsequent return to Lantia, here in Pegusas. Perhaps it's time. . . .
He threw back the covers, forced himself out of bed, and made his way to the sink to wash the drowsiness from his face. As he dried, he examined the scars that remained. He'd long ago been weaned from the enzyme, but his eye. . . . Will it ever return to normal? Ford guessed it really didn't matter. It was the first day of a whole new year and the thought would not leave him...
Today, I resolve to go home.
oOo
Author's Note: This was written in inspiration of ladygris' challenge, who happens to be my wife irl. To clarify: yes, the US Naval Academy does train Marine Corps officers, feel free to read their opening sentence on the "welcome aboard" page.
