I'm terrible for updating so late, I know, I know...
The heat is sweltering. Until a few minutes ago it wasn't that bad; and the che-rah, as Todd calls their lizard-ride, are able to make a good deal of speed. But after about two hours at about 60kmh, John has to admit he can't deny them their break. So now they are crawling forward at the speed of a human walking and there is no wind cooling them down. John and the others are sweaty and grumpy.
"How do you do it?!" McKay demands to know, glaring at Todd. "You're wearing enough leather to make a two seat couch from it. How come you aren't melting like the rest of us?! "
"A two seat couch?" Todd asks.
"A piece of furniture. Anyway, that's not the point!" comes the snappy answer with an angry pull at a collar that has already been loosened as far as it goes.
Todd raises an eyebrow but apparently decides to humor the scientist. "Bugs do not generate their own body heat. Humans do. Wraith are a combination of both. Luckily for us, this results in the ability to generate body heat when needed, but also to stop when the surrounding temperature is high enough to profit from it. I am currently functioning due to the heat around us."
"Well, I'll be damned," McKay grumbles. The che-rah he's on shakes its head and pulls at the reins, then stops. The other lizards follow its example. McKay, and everyone else of them who's ever seen a cowboy-movie, clumsily nudge their mount's flanks with their heels. And of course it's of no use, the reptiles completely ignore them.
"What's going on?" John asks Todd. He's been the unfortunate one who's had to share his ride with the wraith. He could've shared with Teyla and let Todd have the single ride, but they agreed on not leaving Todd with the chance to just ride off without them. So here he is, his gun aimed at Todd's back and his free hand holding on to one of the spikes that protrude from the che-rah's back. There are many of those and John is quite happy that they divide his and Todd's seat and leave enough space to sit between.
Todd is neither nudging their che-rah, nor is he pulling at the reins like Stackhouse, who's trying to lead his and Markham's ride a little closer to the group. If the wraith is communicating with the animal, it is probably telepathic. McKay had initially grouched about that. Standing in front of his ride and unsure how to get the bridle on it, he'd asked why they needed it anyway, when Todd could just lead the animals telepathically. Couldn't he?
Todd had shut the argument down with a simple "It is quite tiring to constantly stay connected with a being whose main concern is to get the females of the group to agree to mating."
Suddenly, the che-rah lie down. John almost accidentally pulls the trigger of his gun as his muscles instinctively clench to keep him from falling of the suddenly moving animal.
"If you don't want an accidentally, or purposely, fired bullet in your body, you should really start announcing stuff like this!" he snaps.
Todd ignores him, but John already isn't interested in an answer anymore. The skin and bone frill that has previously been flattened to the lizards' necks has fanned open. And John knows that this means something dangerous is coming up.
Is there another group of che-rah and they are trespassing their territory? Will there be a fight or something?
"Flatten yourself against your che-rah's back, and whatever you do, don't let go of it!" Todd instructs with a voice that tells John he has had a command before.
"Why?" he asks, as he wonders how wraith ranking systems work and what rank has been Todd's .
His answer comes in the form of a rumbling sound and a tremble running through the ground.
"Look!" Ford yells from where he and Teyla are on their ride. He points a finger to the horizon.
John looks. And groans.
A wall of sand and wind, moving across the desert plain like a shock wave. The che-rah wiggle themselves deep enough into the ground for John's heels to touch the sand again, then put their heads down. Todd leans forwards and flattens himself against the animal as far as the spiked back allows. The wraith has told them what to do and apparently doesn't care if the humans follow his instructions. John frowns. The only way for him to get his head down is to flatten himself against Todd's back.
"Just do it, Sheppard." Apparently Todd isn't that happy either but won't balk at doing the necessary.
"Are you in my head again?" John asks, annoyed but with some humor to it.
"I am not," is Todd's simple answer, barely heard above the rumble of the sand wave closing in.
John sighs, then does what is necessary and bends forward. Cheek to the leather-covered back of the wraith, he can see the skin frill of the che-rah coming down out of his peripheral vision. It gently lies down over them, the border barely reaching John's shoulders. But it's better than nothing.
Definitely better than nothing because the sand pelting over John's back tells him that he would've suffocated otherwise. He dimly hopes that the che-rah will be all right, as he clings to it, gritting his teeth.
The che-rah is definitely all right. With a happy sounding screech it rises and shakes off the sand and, almost, John, too. The surprised human reflexively grabs on to the body in front of him, eliciting a startled and pissed-off hiss from the wraith.
"Do you know what a cat is?" he asks, rather than apologizing.
"I don't think so," Todd says, curiosity calming him.
"Well, they hiss a lot, too. I think Rodney smuggled his through the gate and you two should definitely meet," John tells the alien as he dusts himself off.
Before Todd can say anything there's a worried call of "Doctor McKay!" from Teyla and they all turn to look for the man. The back of his che-rah is definitely empty, the creature looking over its shoulder, as smug as a lizard can.
"God, I hate this planet!" comes the grumble from the Canadian, who is sitting flat on his ass where he fell of his ride as it shook the sand off. John is no longer worried after that. If McKay can still grumble then McKay is still all right.
"The quicker you get back on the lizard, McKay, the quicker we can be done here," he calls, amused.
"Yeah, yeah, su- whoa!"
John turns to what McKay is staring at and comes to the conclusion that "woah" is a sufficient description for what he sees.
Ships. Their skeletal remains stick out of the sand that has been shifted about when the shock wave rolled over it, an eerie sight that speaks of death and war. At least five puddle jumper and just as many darts have found their graves here, and those graves have surely been plundered many times for there is barely anything left of what survived the initial impact on the ground.
"How did they end up here?" Ford asks, seemingly quite impressed.
"There was a fight above the planet's atmosphere, outside the reach of the electro-magnetic field. These ships downed each other and gravity did the rest." Todd says. They can't tell if he's guessing or if he actually knows it. But his explanation seems legit, so John decides to let it slide.
"Doesn't seem like there's anything salvageable among it. I'd say we go on?" he suggests.
Ford nods and so they wait for McKay to climb back on his che-rah and continue their journey. The reptiles soon speed up again, and everyone enjoys the wind. They spot some more shipwrecks but none look any more worth an approach than the first one.
Unlike the ships that greet them when they finally arrive at their destination.
They stare at the wraith cruiser and the ancient ship it as come down on top of, both wrecks neatly nestled in between the rock formations that form the small mountains they have come for. Intact apart from the battle and impact damage, the cruiser has nearly completely smothered the lantean ship underneath its bulk, and the perfect still life of a battle long since lost looms above the humans and the wraith who get off of their che-rahs next to the remains of the cruiser's left wing. The dull silver of the mechanic, and the bone-white and gray of the organic, ship fit into the setting remarkably well. John knows McKay has taken a picture as they approached, and idly ponders the possibility of it ending up as someone's desktop wallpaper.
"Looks like the cruiser did a kamikaze…" Stackhouse ponders.
"True… did he?" John asks Todd just for the fun of it.
Predictably, the wrath does not know what a kamikaze is. He plays it over well though, answering "The cruiser rammed the lantean ship and brought it down with it," and leaving the humans to interpret that as a yes or no. With a hiss and a nod of his head that asks to follow, the wraith starts moving, walking toward the ship wrecks. It seems he intends to climb the wing of the cruiser. John wonders how Todd plans to get up on its edge with his hands shackled in a way that definitely doesn't allow for the wraith to pull himself up. The answer is simple. Todd jumps.
John blinks and marvels at the fact that the wraith apparently has no problem covering a solid 5,5 feet height in a single bound. He is about to reprimand the wraith for getting too far away from the group when there's a sharp "Wraith!" coming from Teyla.
"Where?" he asks, eyes and gun trained on Todd's face. The wraith expression says nothing, neither is a verbal explanation coming.
"They seem there and yet not… I can't tell, his presence is distracting, but they don't feel right anyway." She is staring at Todd, curiosity mixed with distaste.
"Important is that they won't harm you and therefore are of no concern to you. We should move on," the wraith says, face still unmoved but a with a remarkable amount of coldness in his voice.
"Harmless wraith?! There is no such thing as harmless wraith, and if there were, why on this planet?" McKay wonders.
"They will not interfere with your task of getting naquadah, so why bother with them anyway?" Todd asks. "Why not avoid an unnecessary risk?"
John feels like the point the wraith is making isn't his real cause for talking them into ignoring the issue. Todd is hiding something.
"I'd say we go check this out," he announces and quickly glances at Ford, never daring to truly take his eyes off the wraith.
"I agree," Ford says. He turns to Teyla for guidance in the right direction and John is about to tell Todd to come down from the cruiser wing lest he wants a bullet between his eyes, when the wraith moves on his own. Landing with all the grace of a cat but stomping off just as pissed off as the water drenched version of the same animal, he wordlessly takes the lead.
They round the cruiser wing, the ceh-rah following them. Soon they can see the hull of the lantean ship, the metal gleaming only dully, for not much of the sandstorms can blast past the stone formations into this valley and polish it. There's also a dark spot, a breach in the hull that allows entrance.
It's guarded by two wraith.
Wraith that neither move nor react to them in any way. The group stands and stares, weapons drawn and ready to fire, only frozen by the sheer lack of reaction and the fact that something about the guards seems off.
They wouldn't harm them, Todd had said. And as they slowly creep closer they can see that the wraith spoke the truth. The wraith drone soldiers look thin and dried out, but not in the way someone fed upon looks. They look…
"Did they starve to death?" Rodney asks, voice somewhere between curiosity, disgust, and maybe a little pity.
"They are starving, yes," Todd says, voice too flat. "But they are not dead yet."
Rodney steps back immediately. "You mean, they…"
There is a sound that reminds John of the day he tried to put on his old leather jacket after being discharged from the air force. The stiffened leather had creaked as he put his arm through the sleeve, dried out as it was from hanging in one and the same spot for years. Yet this time it's the bare, reed thin arm of the wraith warrior that makes this sound as it is lifted into a salute.
"Oh my god…" McKay breathes, stepping back yet another step while the second warrior responds in kind, moving an arm that definitely shouldn't be able to move to present his weapon, a dark, long spear rather than a here utterly useless stun weapon.
Nothing else about the creatures moves. They are once again still, grim mummies and John suddenly feels glad that a mask cover their faces.
"How long have they been here?" he asks.
"Ever since I stationed them here." Todd has yet to look away from the drones. And John knows he won't until they have done something about them. "Though it seems the maintenance team hasn't come for a while now. And still my warriors remained, yet I can not properly reward them for their loyalty." Shackled hands are clenched into fists. The drones do not drop their salute.
"We cannot take them with us." John doesn't know why he feels the need to state the obvious truth, neither does he know why that truth feels so bitter. "We cannot feed them."
"But you can release them." Todd states it like it will happen. And John knows what he is talking about. So while Ford starts saying that they can't let wraith run free, he steps forwards and puts a bullet right through the first drone's head. Clean and quick. John moves quickly to dispatch the second drone, hoping that if it was capable of thinking about what just happened, he didn't give it much time to do so. It drops next to its comrade, the bullethole in its skull bleeding out what life it had left.
Unlike the humans, Todd hadn't flinched at the sudden sound of guns, nor at watching the death of the drone soldiers. The wraith just nods his grim thanks to John, then turns to walk on.
"The naquadah is this way," is his only remark.
"How long ago did you station them here?" John asks after a few silent steps across the black ground. Todd has yet to reveal how long he can go without feeding. And John can't get the picture of that last salute out of his head.
"I do not know. At one point I stopped counting my prison years."
"That long, huh." He glances at the stone-faced wraith from the corners of his eyes. "Why didn't they leave their post when you didn't come back after such a long time and your... maintenance crew failed to show up?"
Todd stops and looks back. For a moment John expects an actual answer and awaits to see if wraith can be as sentimental as humans after all. But all Todd says is: "Why is Dr. McKay not following us?" And for some reason it bothers John, but he lets it be. He is no stranger to keeping things to one's self.
Turning around himself, John yells "What's taking you so long?!"
"I want to know why there are- were guards! Wraith are so used to being the kings of this galaxy, they barely ever bother with guarding things. So what could be important enough to place guards here?" McKay answers. John mentally kicks himself. He was so busy asking about the guards, he didn't think about what they might be guarding.
"Todd, what were the guards for?"
"They were left to guard old habits that never died," the wraith said, a bitter resonance in his voice.
"And which old habits might that be?" John insists on a less cryptic answer.
"Had we not been able to keep it, this planet would have been destroyed, like the others. The lantean ship beneath the cruiser holds the mechanism built to blow all of this into smithereens and render all naquadah here useless. We left guards to make sure the lanteans would not be able to incapacitate it. And when the lanteans fell we kept it up so no enemy alliance could come and destroy our resources here. A useless move, as I see now. This is an easy target; that the drones were left unattended means my fleet was destroyed at some point and cannot defend any territory any longer. Yet there is no other alliance occupying this planet, so either they get by just fine without it or they simply do not know of it."
There is a certain sharpness in Todd's gaze, a quick analytical intelligence that runs scenario after scenario before the mind's eye and calculates odds with remarkable speed. It is hidden away quickly when the wraith stops speaking and just looks at him, a silent question if this is answer enough. John resolves to never underestimate the alien.
"So there is a planet-destroyer in there?!" asks McKay, who's made his way over to them to get an answer to his earlier question.
"Essentially, yes." Todd says, sounding ever-so-slightly smug.
"We need to take a look at that!" McKay's eyes are practically glowing with excitement, the curious scientist in the man acting like a child at Christmas.
"I would advise you to leave it alone. It is a delicate machine, easy to set off by nature and linked to many traps." the warning sounds even more eerie when spoken with that inhuman, layered voice.
"You could lead us." McKay tells the wraith.
"You assume I know how to do that."
"You don't?"
"If I'm not mistaken there is only one wraith left who knows how to safely disarm this construction, now that its guards are dead."
"I'm pretty sure I can figure it out..." McKay says, already turning to walk back to the entrance into the ship wreck.
"Wait, Dr. McKay," Ford intervenes. "Our mission and priority is to get naquadah. Maybe we can come back here later for the planet destroyer, with some more back up and some of the other scientists, too. But for now we should do what we came to do."
"I agree," says Teyla, who is probably thinking of the athosians and their fear of the flickering lights that remind of the Darkness. "Wraith technology is nothing to mess with, they build evil devices."
"Fine," McKay grumbles. "Lead the way!"
Todd hisses at Rodney's command and shooing hand movements, but starts walking as the scientist decides to maybe not antagonize the wraith any further for today and quickly drops his hands to his sides.
After pulling themselves up and pulling McKay after them, they climb the wing of the cruiser and walk across it, leaving the che-rah behind for now. The reptiles have curled up half-buried in the black sand, happily baking in the heat and resting after the long ride. John is still smiling benignly at the picture of these great, fearsome animals acting so much like spoiled house cats.
They cross the hull of the cruiser, which seems oddly skeletal, like a long dead beast, and the view is fantastic. John can't believe that the cruiser is actually not the biggest ship there is when he feels so small standing on top of it. He looks across the expanse of sun-bleached ship hull and wonders how it must be like to stand on a hive ship. And how can those colossi be so alive as they felt in the memory Todd had shared with him, anyway? It seems unbelievable. Dinosaurs suddenly appear very pathetic and small to John.
Then, they reach the other wing. This one is a lot less intact, but following Todd's self-assured steps they manage to climb it to where it meets the side of a mountain. Crossing from the splayed fracture of the bone-like wing to the small stone plateau at the mountain side is tricky, but they manage. At last, they enter a cave, which, at second glance, turns out to be a mine, driven into the stone rather roughly.
Finding the naquadah is terribly anticlimactic.
Stackhouse and a pick-axe can break a few clumps of ore out of the cave wall after only half an hour of searching for anything left in the already barren stone, and McKay happily declares it as enough. They find some extra and take that, too, then leave the way they came.
"Of what worth is this planet to the wraith anyway?" John asks after they survived a second wave of wind and sand rolling over them. It doesn't seem to be the naquadah, they have yet to find wraith tech using it as an energy source.
Todd peers at him over his shoulder for a while, probably trying to gauge if John is worth the info. John looks back, raising an eyebrow at the wraith. The yellow eyes flicker down to the gun at his hip for barely a second. Then the wraith turns forward again and answers. And John knows that Todd is not scared of getting shot for not answering. Todd just appreciates the fact that he hasn't had a gun poking in his back for the whole ride back.
"The sand," the wraith says, swiping the same off his thighs as the che-rah rises from its crouched position. While John congratulates himself for not losing his balance this time, the wraith continues: "All living things require some sort of sustenance. A hive ship can live decades on sunlight alone, but it needs minerals, too."
"Kinda like a plant?" John muses.
"That would be the closest relatable life-form your kind knows of, I guess," Todd agrees.
"Interesting."
"Do not try to use that knowledge against my future hives, John Shepard," comes the low, warning growl.
"You seem to be very sure you'll be having that future..." John plays along.
A smirk over the wraith's shoulder, pointy teeth on display. "I spy with my little eye something that can fly..."
Apparently the wraith is back to speaking in riddles. John rolls his eyes, but it is half-hearted.
"Get the che-rah moving", he says, while Todd chuckles at him. "We'll talk about that future when we get there. For now we got some naquadah to deliver."
Because he doesn't want to think about things turning so bad that they will have to fight each other with all means possible, when right now he's having a better time than ever before.
John promises to himself to make this all work out and turn this galaxy into the peaceful home that earth never was.
Todd is still smirking, a knowing glint in his eyes.