Off hand supporting his weight, Guide made his way down the hallway in pursuit of the Hive Master. Two-thirds down the hall, he stopped and pulled air into his lungs, heart hammering with exertion, and probed along the recently healed wound delicately. Under his fingers thin new skin covered it, friable, prone to ripping from sudden movement, and right now he forced his body too much, both to comply and heal. He would rest. A few minutes, that is all. Moments. Guide set his back against the wall, mind surging ahead, and shut his eyes to reduce the sensory input. Jennifer strayed into his mind.

Again, she became food. After all they strove for, in spite of trappings and technology, in spite of newly forged friendships, Wraith were still creatures of instinct. He was still a creature of instinct. Such dichotomy never existed before that chance meeting with John Sheppard. How had the choice of life and death concertinaed to something that bit at the deepest nature of Wraith? Centuries of life packed with memories, and the certain belief humans had limited use, that they could never stand as equals – despite knowing the truth – come to nought, challenged by a single encounter.

Grudgingly, he allowed the Genii had a place in engineering this particular chapter in Wraith history. He coughed a laugh, holding the wound. A treacherous people even by Wraith standards, so how could he extend gratitude, if indeed, it could be framed in such a manner? How far, in real terms, had this journey taken them? Would it ever be far enough? And the Fair One...? Guide grunted, remembering when he mocked her for compassion so long ago; he never realised how he would rely upon it. Or upon her.

Pain rocked him, threatened to turn his bowels liquid. Guide drew in a breath, nearly choked on the acrid stuff that seared his lungs, and closed his eyes against it. Each hack threatened to pull the wound apart. Head pounding, Guide crystallised to noise and light, flickering visions... Alabaster as a red-haired hellion, his own youth, so long ago, Snow... oh Snow... beloved, lost... McKay, Sheppard, Teyla... and Jennifer's translucent face flowed like paint over canvas, last, by no means least, dark lashes thick on her cheeks. An effigy cast in marble, still but for the faint movement of her chest, all veins mapped in delicate tracery under her skin, the merest blue stains. Yes, he fed, and too deep, but she would not suffer again. Ever. He swore it.

He poked the wound, impatient, and snarled. Teeth gritted against further vocalisation, Guide stamped on his irritation. A more cautious examination revealed its healing acceptable, if not complete, and he recovered it with the rags of his shirt. It would do. Pulling himself upright he headed down the corridor again, slipping through insubstantial phantoms of writhing smoke and fancy, trickles of light passing over his frame like water. A thing of darkness, a nightmare, every killer instinct clamouring and building, he moved silent as a moth. Senses afire, he coasted the turmoil surging through the ship, its crew in disarray, no sense of the queen it looked to held its fragments together. Its agony beat at him, electricity along his nerves, white-hot.

Below his feet, the ship lurched, the dull thumps of weapons fire against the hull rocking the fabric of the hive, and he clung to a close by buttress, staying upright through sheer force of will. As soon as the tremor subsided, Guide set off, more certain, questing ahead for the telltale signature of Bonewhite's thoughts. That subtle path only they knew. And where the Hive Master went, so went he. No choice. Simple fact. Many a time he had cause for gratitude to that one for his tracking skills; too many times to count, too many times to recall with any true accuracy. And this was no instance to distrust those skills that served him and their hive so well. An old game that had served them well and one they played out many times, except now their quarry was no human. Sensing ahead, the barest whisper called, and he grasped at it, tenuous as it was.

Pleasure flickered, highlighting the flimsy tendril. Distinct, sharp, he could not doubt where it originated. Guide moved with more certainty towards his end point. Coming to a crossroads, he hesitated for a second or so, tentative as he followed the narrow cord spun between himself and Bonewhite. If he had found the Hive Master, all well and good, but if he had been captured by that abomination then Guide could guess what might await him once he got close enough. He could only hope she had been damaged enough by his blind, undirected strike. But it left a question unanswered, which would have no solution until he drew close enough to sense her despair. Guide calculated the odds anything he had managed to achieve as minimal and the effects must have worn off a long time since. Unless by some extraordinary circumstance good fortune found him on this occasion. His mouth twisted. Hope at this late stage? Miracle...? No. Belief did not extend so far as to think such a thing would crash over the horizon this time. They had had their fair share of those recently, wrapped in the shape of Steelflower and Alabaster.

Amused by his own conjecture, Guide slid into the left hand corridor. Ears strained to pick up so much as a rustle, he heard nothing at first apart from the groans of the hive's infrastructure, low rumbles of distress that spoke of building pressure and hull damage. A surge of unadulterated agony left him gasping, unable for a second to separate where the sensation came from – was it his or the hive's? But it was alien, similar but different. Any Commander, any, would recognise the pain of a ship, even one not under his control and deal with it effectively, but injured as he was... Unsure if he could control it, Guide wrestled it back, quashing the sensations until they became bearable. Then the camber of the floor shifted up, and he clutched at the wall, wondering whether this time he made the right decision? Not quite healed, not at full strength... he might well hinder Bonewhite rather than help? Had he committed them both to failure?

Then other sensations drifted to him, strung out and thin, faint echoes of snarls beyond his ears, the high pitched whine of metal when it struck metal, and injuries forgotten he charged ahead. Coming to another turn, he spun round it on the toes of one foot, fingertips grazing the wall as he launched himself. A stark tableau greeted him, silhouettes cast in rime, tumbling, twisting shapes.

Illuminated by sparks, the Hive Master's coat swirled, a step back, one to the side, in nimble precision, great sword a gleam that burned across Guide's retinas. A strike sent crystal sparkles shooting through the dark, and Bonewhite met it, parrying the blow, pushed away, ready for the return and with an upward swing lopped off his assailant's hand, weapon still grasped in clawed fingers. A glossy arterial spray followed its arc to land between his feet where a heap of clothes lay still, sprawled spider limbs coated with thick green.

Roaring, Guide travelled across the room and leapt, catching Bonewhite's assailant by the throat to bring him to the ground. They fell, locked together, wrestling to gain control, twisting until Guide managed to straddle the other male, mantling his feeding hand against his chest. Light flashed, bright, metallic, nicking his flesh, and warmth spread over his skin. He had not heard the whistle of the blade as it came down, stopping mere millimetres from his neck, but now sound returned and broke through the green haze before him.

~Bonewhite!~ Silver hung in place while his breath sounded harsh in his ears...The blade wavered, a slight breeze kissing his hide, the fine hairs of his nape in salute. ~Stand. Down.~

~Guide.~ Not a question. The other leaned down as if he needed proof, scrutinised him, the sword still poised.

Teeth bared, he snarled at the Hive Master. ~Who else?~

Bonewhite ignored him; the points of his own teeth returned the snarl. ~Another enemy.~

Guide grunted, meeting the Hive Master's hard yellow stare, dismissing his reasoning out of hand, before focusing on the man beneath him again. Orange eyes met his own, pupils thin jet strands, hate clear in them. ~There is much to learn.~

A noise made the Hive Master swing back to the bundle on the floor, reaching for his blaster. It scrabbled, clawed, tried to drag itself away. He stepped across it, and pushed with the sole of his boot, thin lips curled into a sneer, before aiming a shot at her. A blue nimbus briefly lit their surroundings. ~Your suggestions for this?~

Guide coughed. His injury twanged like caught wire, hot, throbbing. ~She is useful.~

The expression on the Hive Master's face belied that comment though he did not speak, choosing, instead to search the shadows. ~Well, best be quick,~ the Hive Master observed, eventually, fingers touching the hull briefly. ~This ship will not last.~ His attention returned to Guide and the other male. ~Kill him.~

Guide shook his head. ~This one is also useful.~ He gave the blaster in Bonewhite's holster a significant look. ~But unconscious, eh?~ Dead did not suit his purpose, but he would enjoy removing life when all lines of enquiry were extinguished.

The Hive Master grinned. ~Indeed.~ Slipping the weapon into his hand, he aimed when Guide moved out of the way, an almost tangible relish permeating the atmosphere. The blade's body arched, bucking with the current that flowed through it.

Tilting his head, Guide scrutinised the man, and how best to manoeuvre him. Mindful of his injury, he pushed off the floor dragging the unconscious blade with him. ~How many of us remain?~

~A few clevermen, no more than ten blades, Commander.~

Guide threw a glance at his second. ~So many?~

The Hive Master grimaced, hauling his own burden to her feet; she sagged at the knees but he gripped her at the waist where she hung, limp as seaweed. ~Only those necessary.~ Shouldering their burdens, they moved off. ~The dart bay, Guide.~

~A logical choice, Hive Master.~

Changes in the structure of the hive's corridors made the return trip longer, definitely more fraught, but Guide dared not hurry. His injuries throbbed with each step, flame running through his nerves and muscles, reminding him he needed to feed. Deep, dark thoughts kept him company as they meandered, concerns lit by Jennifer's face... so pale and drawn. Ruthlessly he ground them to silt, determined to focus on their end point; there was always time for recrimination later. Focussed, he knew that with a bit more, often evasive, luck, Sprint would have taken charge and moved Jennifer as soon as he could so they could get off the ship in relative safety. It made no sense to wait on those that might not return and she was far more important to Wraith than either of them to their Alliance. He gave a grim chuckle and drew a narrowed glance from Bonewhite.

In explanation, he said, ~It amuses me our fortunes rest on the life and goodwill of humans.~

Bonewhite snorted, then stopped, assessing the path before them. ~Stupidity is an underrated quality and not often looked for in our followers.~ The glance he exchanged with Guide was sly. ~It often masquerades as loyalty.~

~I consider myself fortunate then, Hive Master.~

Bonewhite bared teeth in appreciation, moving on past a sudden knot of corridors into one that swept left. Like the flanks of a beast covered in flies, the lie of the floor altered once more and he stumbled, grunting with the effort to both stay on his feet and manage the extra weight he carried... dragged. Another reason to hope the boy saw fit to move as one more unconscious person, slight as Jennifer Keller was, would tip the balance, literally. Right now, he did not know how much further he could go? A trickle of blood, damp, sticky, only confirmed an uneasy opinion when it coursed past the waistband of his pants.

~No assistance is at hand?~ he asked, despite the evidence of echoing halls and stark surroundings. Shadows chased each other, casting them in gloom while the ship shuddered her death throes.

Bonewhite swung a look at him, concern flickering over his austere features, then resolution. ~ None, Commander.~ Guide felt the decision made, but could do nothing to prevent it. A gleam of metal showed briefly, the movement swift and accurate as he drew his dagger across Obsidian's throat, grating on bone when he sliced through to her spine. Life departed on a gurgle, blood spewing thick as oil and spattered them both in gore. Dropping the corpse, the Hive Master stepped over it to lend his support to Guide's burden. ~We will make better time.~

Acid fizzed in Guide's guts. Yes, a justified action, even a sensible action, but how could he condone it. Whatever information lay in her head, gone, reduced to nothing more than carrion. It lay now only in the man they hauled. If they could not piece together anything useful from him then Guide was at a loss how they could battle this new enemy. He had no doubt there were others just as tenacious and more than willing to take up the challenge where this had finished. Always there was some faction that wanted the spoils for themselves and that he could not have. They needed the Lanteans, and he needed to present evidence to them. Without them and Earth's reluctant backing, they lost already. Lastlight left a powerful legacy, one they would do well to eradicate.

Various truths exposed themselves as his mind whirled in contemplation of increasingly difficult scenarios, the many different futures and possibilities arising from a few acts. Power changed hands so quickly. Any path chosen he must control and it filled his mouth with bile, the palm of his feeding hand slippy with enzyme, when he thought they might lose. How to ensure only the best outcome? He was old. Too old perhaps? Change in the council's structure began already. He saw his obsolescence clear as thunder strike, a new Consort in his place. Rightly so, yes, but not now. So much at stake. So much. Too many others played this particular game. The notion stuck in his craw and repeated with particular violence. He could not shut down the violent imagery.

~That was not well done,~ he hissed, eventually able to trust himself to mention what just happened.

~We have no need of her.~

~What if there are others like her - ~

~Then he will provide the answers, will he not?~

~If he knows them.~ The Hive Master did not respond, but the tone of his mind indicated little regret for the action, which made Guide wonder if he was aware of something more? ~Why?~ he asked, censure running deep in his voice.

But the only answer he received was silence and they moved through the darkness, locked in disagreement.

~xxXXxx~

Carrying a dead weight did not appear high on his list of favourite things when on a hive surrounded by trigger happy enemies. Even if that weight was the Fair One and she was not so much dead as unconscious. Slung over his shoulder, her head bumped against his back with every stride. One arm swung loose, smacking against the hull with a dull thud, when he turned down the home straight. He winced. She gave a moan, which filled him with thankful relief as there had been a horrible moment when he thought she might not make it. And then he would have to face Bonewhite... or Alabaster. Guide...

The cleverman cringed from the thought. Any of those three would cheerfully divest him of his skin and nail it to the nose of the hive as a warning to all others who might be so utterly stupid as to fail in an appointed task – particularly one this important. Despite a few scary times when he mistrusted his place and reason for existence, Sprint did not doubt his preference for an intact and functioning hide. Another uncomfortable thought sauntered across his mind. The Lanteans. If he still managed to draw breath after Guide had dealt with him, Sprint's imagination provided all sorts of inventive techniques they would do to him if he found himself in their hands.

Purpose propelled him down the corridors without a glance left or right, lending swiftness to his feet. Though the hive seemed to want to confound him on every level – new walls and corridors sprang up behind or to the fore... Coming to a junction, Sprint made a random selection and, as luck would have it, turned into a narrow annex that brought him to a working transport. He darted inside, off hand reaching for the controls, desperation making him fumble at first. Calm cleverman... calm... Punching in the coordinates to the dart bay, he hissed when the console declined to react, so he shifted Jennifer so when he distributed his stance she stood propped against him. A soft puff of air punctuated by a groan disturbed the hair on his neck.

"Fair One," Sprint muttered, attention still fixed mostly on the transport controls, "are you awake?" A small movement of her head gave Sprint hope. "I need you to stand? Can you do that?" He bent close as possible, managed to catch the husky note of "...try..." when she breathed it in his ear.

Good enough. Looking down, Jennifer's eyes flickered open, pain written clear, and prompted by sudden fondness he rested his forehead against hers. Her hand lifted and rested on his cheek, a curious little half smile on her lips.

"Friends...?" Covering her fingers, Sprint nodded. He did not trust himself to speak and swallowed, throat thick with some nameless nonsense he wished he did not feel. "It's okay," she said, and he coughed out a tiny laugh.

"Can you stand?" A mute shake of her head. "Too soon?"

"In... a minute." She heaved in a deep breath and rested against him, shaking a little and with his help managed to transfer her weight so it was supported by the back wall of the transport. "Damn arm... hurts." Adjusting his grip, he moved from the rapidly developing bruise, but then she gave an impatient flick of her fingers. He continued to hold her forearms, worried she would fall. "Let's go... now."

"If..."

"Now... cleverman."

"Yes, my lady." Sprint gave her a mocking little bow, drawing a wan smile that did not linger.

He attacked the console again, determined to get it up and running. There. A short in one of the switches. Finding the small panel on its underside, he pressed and it flipped open. Numerous leads ran in a knotty tangle to several points in the machine, and he could not locate the one he needed at first. Sprint eased a couple loose, fluid leaking over his fingers as he fumbled in near dark to separate them and jury rig the panel. Sharp edges cut the tips of his fingers, complicating the surgery with more liquid. A few more twists were needed. One... there... This cable... where was the conduit? Yes. He gave a satisfied growl when green light flickered on the console, then became a steady glow.

Hooking an arm round her waist, Sprint pulled her against him, and the Fair One slid her arm round his neck, shored up against him. "Now."

Light flared, brilliant as it enveloped them, white, harsh, depositing them moments later, hopefully, close to the dart bay. A furtive glance into the corridor showed Sprint it was empty and he gathered Jennifer again and they stumbled along the listing floor together. This time he struck it lucky, as the way was clear and well-defined. Perhaps the hive placed all her resources into keeping an escape route for her crew? He could only be grateful the doors to the bay gaped open, the narrow bridge leading to the interior intact, all praise to the first mothers. Another tremor shook the hive, and he struggled to stay on his feet when he reeled against the wall, taking Jennifer's weight as she fell against him.

"Not... good," she gasped, and clung to him like a feeding Iratus. Her fingers were white with effort. "One more... like that."

Grunting, Sprint dragged them both upright, heading through the doors. A glance showed there were a few darts poised for take off, but, more importantly, no enemy blades. Another complication he could do without right now.

"There." He drew her attention to a siding where a craft sat, hidden in the shadow of an overhang and they started to edge towards it. As soon as they set foot on the narrow span, it shifted under them and they moved back. A piece of rubble detached and fell. They watched it in silence and clutched each other in relief. If they had taken the chance...

"No other... way?" she asked, her face turned up to examine the rest of the bay.

"Only there," he growled and jerked his chin to another, higher, entrance. "We will not get there in time, Fair One." More cracks crazed the bridge's surface as they watched and round them the infrastructure groaned with the ship's distress. Rapid examination of their surroundings showed him he had little choice in his next move. "Stay here," he instructed.

Jennifer grimaced. "Like I'm... going... anywhere."

"I have a better chance -" he began, hoping to gain her understanding.

"I see... that," she said, and settled on the floor with her legs drawn up under her. "Do... what you... gotta."

He gave a curt nod and ran. Never had he lived up to his name so thoroughly as he charged across to the relative safety of the ledge. Behind him he heard the sounds of it begin to crumble, crashes from below as it bounced against obstructions, the thuds of more devastation following his flight. He flung himself the last few metres, summoning reserves of strength and scrabbled desperately to hang onto the edge of the ledge, hauling himself up, searching for grip with his toes so he could power his way to safety.

The whine of another dart caught his attention as he rolled onto his back and, disbelieving, he watched as the craft twisted through a sudden cascade of falling material. The pilot was possessed, insane. It dodged a boulder that should have obliterated it, and looking across the expanse he saw Jennifer raise her hand to him, her shout silenced by the thunder of the craft. The culling beam struck and she was gone...

"No." On his feet now, Sprint began to race for the dart and then light surrounded him too.

~xxXXxx~

~Their cause is lost, sister.~

Waterlight's tones rang out across the bridge, and Alabaster's men stirred under it even while they worked to complete the outcome. Beneath their weariness, she sensed gladness, and something more. Pride. In their achievements, in who they were and how they had come from nothing to this glory. In their Commander and, tellingly, in her. She basked in their love and appreciation, awed by it, humbled, even. An emotion, she could hear Guide say, in that particularly sarcastic tone of his, that served them all well. Guide... A pang shot through her at the thought of her sire. Never more than now had she needed him so much, right at this point when his wisdom would be invaluable. Her fists tightened to balls and she pushed the unthinkable away. They had been lost to each other before. Never again.

Turning her gaze to the stricken hive, she gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. Already, remnants of the crew from the other hive begged to join them - men to swell her ranks, yes, but should she trust them? How easily they swore allegiance when they had fought so savagely against her and the Alliance. Too easily perhaps. So much at stake...

~Your thoughts are mine,~ said Waterlight, and Alabaster met the frank look in the young queen's eyes, mutual understanding passing between them. Precisely what were they taking on, and whom? What taints did they bring, if any? ~We must remain vigilant.~

~Indeed.~ Turning her attention to the static coming from the ship, a spike isolated itself from the rest, a pattern she recognised. Coded identification. ~Did you see that?~ The question snapped across the bridge, pinned the young blade monitoring communications.

~Yes, my Queen.~

~What has happened?~ Alabaster raised her eyes to the concerned face on the monitor. Bronze hovered behind Waterlight, ever close, fixed on the monitors, dragging Waterlight's attention to her own instruments. Her slim fingers made a rapid dance across the interface, and she glanced back up, brow ridges lifted in surprise. ~I see.~

~At least we know some will return,~ she said, and allowed herself the brief respite afforded by relief. The question remained, who?

Closing her eyes, she touched the minds under her care, coasting among their scattered thoughts, seeking to bring them back to a singular, cohesive, ribbon. Careful focus pulled them into better relief, there was Halt and Breeze, the delicate cascade that was Note, and others, all joining the symphony. There were noticeable gaps, not least those left by Bonewhite and Guide, and Sprint. Momentary grief stung, but she swept it aside; she could not mourn just yet. Selfishly, her mind turned to Ember, and a stab of joy rushed in her that he remained safe in Atlantis.

~My Queen!~ Careful excitement filled the voice of the young blade monitoring one of the stations and he stared at the listing hive, eyes rapt on the screen. ~There is something leaving the hive...~

At first, Alabaster saw nothing. Moving closer to the small screen, she peered hard, searching the inky black and then she had it. It crawled... slow, jerky... a ship? A dart. A sliver of darkness against the velvet of space, a negative image caught on the retina. ~Who...~

~I do not know, for certain. It may be the commander but... ~ he said, and caught her eye while he increased the visual range of the sensors. Yes, she agreed, it might be a fake identification code, but if she knew her father – and she did – then in spite of the odds being stacked against him, he would find a way to get back. ~They are running silent.~

~Sister, have you picked this up too?~ Alabaster asked, and spared a rapid glance at Waterlight whose attention had moved elsewhere on her bridge.

~We have it,~ the young woman replied, finally, when the blade at her elbow nodded. She looked up, focussed on Alabaster across the parsecs. ~Could it be Guide?~

Alabaster watched the way the craft moved, how it rolled out of the path of debris that flew from the hull of the stricken hive, spinning on its trajectory. ~It certainly looks like his flying,~ she said,

dry with anticipation as its antics took on a familiar aspect, and rolled again, dodging fiery bolts as the afflicted hive shuddered. ~Very like.~

~It has a highly erratic path, my lady.~ The blade's long fingers danced across his console, focussing his instruments closely on the fleeting shade. ~What are your orders?~

~Can we get any closer to them?~ Alabaster leaned over the young man, off hand resting against the terminal.

~Negative,~ he responded, fixed on the shape as it hurtled towards them. ~ The enemy hive has reached a critical stage and we must retreat to a safe distance before it disintegrates.~

Hissing, she drew away and stared at the large screen, hoping to catch sight of the dart as it manoeuvred. The youth was right; she could see that from the wild fluctuations scampering dementedly across his screen. They dare not move closer. Already they placed themselves in a precarious position. Her mind jumped back to the problem in hand. Return might have a chance.

~Waterlight...?~ Her voice rang out across the hive, tense.

~Bronze,~ the young queen barked out her favourite's name and the blade leapt to his task with alacrity. ~Plot trajectory...~ She moved off screen, then reappeared a few moments later. ~Sister, this is a tricky manoeuvre and may not be successful.~

~It will,~ Alabaster stated, firm in her belief that this time they would all survive. ~It must.~

~Move to retrieve position,~ Waterlight commanded and the view changed as Return eased her bulk to the correct orientation, presenting her broad flank to the running dart, ponderous as she picked up speed to match the nimble craft, bay doors gaping wide as a wound. The pointed nose of the dart shifted direction infinitesimally, aiming for Return.

Alabaster whipped her head up, pinned the helmsman. ~Get ready to jump,~ she snapped, ~as soon as they have them.~

~Yes, my queen.~ He bent his head over the console, intent.

Breath caught in her throat, Alabaster reached out over the parsecs seeking the minds in the needle attempting to hurl itself into the welcoming body of Return. Every nerve, all the atoms of her body stretched in an attempt to perceive what lay within the fleeting dot, but it was beyond her and she could not say with certainty who they brought on board Return. It had to... must be Guide and the Fair One.

Tension mounted. They could do nothing except wait. Observe. Time... slowed. Alabaster held her breath. Anticipation filled every moment. Hungry eyes followed the small craft's progress.

~We have it.~ Waterlight's voice echoed across the bridge.

~Now,~ Alabaster snapped. ~Jump.~

A.N. It's been a very long time since I posted, but I hope this will ease the need. :)