The night had dragged out longer and more tiresomely than a sleepless night generally did, but it never came as a surprise to a particular human being that spending eighteen hours a day examining medical documents could seriously tire a person out. Slumped in her desk chair, the short-statured woman of twenty-five years stirred. Her right hand still rested upon the thick tablet that had been her most constant companion since 2005. Tiny blue indicators winked around its edges like sleepy eyes. Ritha slowly reached up and brushed her shock of dark, curly hair out of her face.

Could it be morning already? But…what did morning mean these days? Earth's rotation was a stranger to her. A great deal of noise and countless footfalls mingled in the main bay outside the cubicle, so it was likely past daybreak. Ritha rested her forehead upon the computer station, and breathing deeply, she finally forced her eyes open. Her skirt was wrinkled. There was lint embedded in the dented rubber floor mat her crossed feet rested upon. It was high time to change that mat; all shock absorption it used to sport had been well-nigh beaten out of it.

Ritha had not returned to her home planet earth since her first day in Atlantis. And never had she regretted leaving it. She was pleased to remain engaged in her field, examining a wide variety of medical and scientific documents, sorting and filing every piece of material that passed through the hands of Drs. Beckett and Keller. Report after report bearing data about illness and genes to drugs and nanites had been read or skim-read at least once by Ritha. Her knowledge had grown greater via such exposure than she had ever acquired during her few years with Stargate Command before the expeditions moved out into the Pegasus Galaxy.

Yawning, she sat up and stretched, arms high over her head. Shore leave had been announced yesterday and she had a lot to take care of before spending two weeks on the United States mainland. Ritha tucked her trusty tablet under her arm and, staggering a little, made her way out to the main bay. Nurses milled about handling packages and taking stock of supplies.

"Oh Guider, I've got another for you. Should be the last of the data, just get it backed up before…"

Ritha looked over her shoulder. Dr. Beckett was holding out a tablet. "Well, I..." she ventured.

Beckett looked into her eyes. "You were up all night again. Weren't you."

Ritha was too tired to fib, so she nodded. "Sorry. Is it an emergency?"

"No such thing. We're back on earth, remember? And I highly doubt we'll be needing the entire staff perpetually present in Atlantis for quite some time."

"Mm-hm," Ritha said. Of course she remembered that Atlantis was on earth. Nor would she ever forget Beckett's flawless handling of the city as he flew it across two galaxies from the Chair. Echoing, distant booms of the attacking hive ship still rang in her subconscious.

"Get some sleep then. Never mind, I'll finish this myself," Beckett said.

"Right. Thanks." Ritha nodded and left the bay. She hardly remembered traveling the corridors to get to her quarters, but the sensation of sinking into her deep mattress and pillows was glorious. She knew nothing more until the late evening sun had cast an orange light over the city, turning every one of its western windows to fire and the stargate into a ring of power. Ritha refreshed herself with a shower and some new clothes before answering the distant call of the dining arena. One of her worst habits was studying without taking time for meals. Food could wait. Data could not.

She had time off, Ritha remembered with a twinge of excitement, she had shore leave, and she needed to be ready for when her group departed. Until then, she could lounge and not think about anything except what interested her the most, which meant being back in front of the computer stations. Evening meal hour was well under way in the mess hall; everywhere she looked, Ritha saw into a sea of various tired, smiling, and frowning faces. She spotted Colonel Sheppard and Ronan Dex eating at a table in a far eastern corner. They had been heroes so often and had been involved in saving the city so many times, and as much as she would have liked to congratulate them for what they had gone through in bringing Atlantis home, Ritha felt too out of place to approach them. She had only spoken with Sheppard a couple of times, and Ronan, not at all.

She ate alone. Normally, she would have sat with Keller or Beckett or some of the nurses, but they all appeared to be absent. After eating as much as she could hold - in other words, after eating so much she would be able to survive another ten hours without wasting time eating regular meals - Ritha marched through the corridors to the medical bay. "Now is the time," she thought over and over with each step, and repeatedly tracing a familiar engraved pattern on the back of her tablet. It would have to be now or wait for two more weeks, and Ritha had no intention of ruminating herself to death in anticipation during shore leave. Entering the main area, she spotted Beckett discussing a technical code with a surgeon. Ritha crossed her arms over her tablet and looked around at the supplies still waiting to be loaded into their refrigeration units. She had spent the last two days mustering the courage to open up about her updated findings and now that the opportunity had presented itself, her hands were producing copious amounts of sweat.

Beckett and the surgeon kept nodding and appearing to make ready to part ways, but every time the conversation seemed over, they would move closer together again. Suddenly, the back of the surgeon's white coat was moving away, and the doctor was peeling off a pair of gloves. Ritha stepped forward. "Doc."

"Yes. Oh, back, are you? Did you get some sleep?"

"I did, thank you." She cleared her throat. "I have a few things to talk to you about if you have a moment."

"There isn't much left to do here anyways."

"Great." Ritha tried to resume some calm as she turned on her tablet and set it down on a computer station. Scrolling through the files to the correct diagram seemed to take ages. "So…um…I…"

"Nervous? Don't be." Beckett leaned on the station's surface.

Ritha nodded her thanks and tried to forget she was talking to Carson's clone. "Well, to make a long story short…" She hesitated.

Slowly, Beckett cocked his head to look at the on-screen diagram.

"As you know, I have spent the last couple of years studying in as much detail as possible the Iratus insects, the wraith, and wraith feeding organ anatomy."

Beckett looked up. "It's a lot, isn't it? Hefty...in my opinion."

"I can't put it down," Ritha said. "In all my research, I have been most intrigued by these specific fields as well as Dr. Keller's work, and I have done a lot of my own theorizing."

"Have you now?" Beckett feigned surprise.

Ritha shrugged. "Questions, theories… equations that I would like to present to her and to you... I'm convinced… that the gene therapy Dr. Keller developed is just the start of what could be a major breakthrough regarding the wraith. Why give up on it? The Hoffan drug succeeded, why can't we approach a retrovirus from an entirely new angle?"

Beckett raised his eyebrows. "You didn't see those monsters the gene therapy turned Todd's crew into."

"I saw the reports. But I'm not ready to stop now. I have moved on into some new theories…that maybe you have considered on your own and maybe you haven't. If I might be so bold as to put it that way."

Beckett still looked a little surprised, but he did not laugh. "Well, you know things didn't work the way we'd hoped, and we're not sure we want to try it again any time soon, not until we find the missing puzzle pieces. And it could take many more years to develop a proper stabilizer."

"The Hoffan drug on one end of the spectrum and the Hybrids on the other," Ritha said. "There's a middle ground somewhere." Her pulse wasn't racing so much now. She leaned on the panel. "Only part of the equation actually worked. Keller had me on the bio research files while she was developing the gene therapy. Just an additional thought, one of my greatest dreams…" Ritha glanced around, fearful of being overheard. "I still wish to personally study an Iratus insect. The answer lies inside those bugs."

"You've said that many times."

"I know we could never do that here."

"They are a bit tricky, trust me, you don't want to meet one. You saw what happened to Colonel Sheppard."

"Yes." Ritha scrolled to a diagram of an Iratus bug and some complex data about jaw structure. "But we also saw what it took in order to cure him."

Beckett looked from the Ritha to the diagrams and back again. "You know, you almost worry me."

"Everything about the Wraith origins, abilities, telepathy, feeding hands, and culture fascinates me."

"Don't get any notions to go about playing with an Iratus bug."

"Of course not," Ritha said, smirking more at Beckett's reference to her as "brilliant" than at his slight attempt to be funny. "I have been working on what Colonel Sheppard experienced, puzzling over it, but also analyzing all other data I can get my hands on. There is so much that is missing from our understanding of the wraith, and I know it sounds like an incredibly stupid thing to repeat after all this time. I wish I had access to more of the Ancients historical records. The structure of wraith blood for instance, I believe I…"

"You really want to be more involved in the dirty work, don't you?"

"Very much so." She paused. She had never been the most excellent speaker, and it made her nervous to be talking this over with someone as experienced as Dr. Beckett...clone or not. Supposing he was only humoring her? But no, he was never insincere. She was just being anxious.

He seemed to understand her silence. "I still learn something new every day."

Ritha looked up again. "Logically anything that is done can be undone. But...what it would take to override the bond between human and Iratus DNA that has evolved over thousands of years is a language that cannot be deciphered. It would be like trying to split an element."

"A fairytale, mind. But we can still isolate particular strands of DNA even if they are composed of incompatible races."

"I feel that we have focused too much on finding a common denominator. I look at all of this from entirely different angles than I did at first. Our focus is too much on what the wraith can do that humans cannot, and vice versa."

Dr. Beckett frowned slightly but allowed Ritha to continue.

"My theories and deductions are ready to present…and I wanted to know if I could meet with you and Dr. Keller as soon as possible. Just to go over things and exchange perspectives. Imagine if there was a way for the wraith to feed on humans without there being any loss of life or youth."

"Now THAT," Beckett said, "is an incredible idea and Dr. Keller might have the same notions you do. Eventually, it may be possible. Long shot."

Ritha nodded. "How soon is eventually?" Her mind flew forward to the potential future and some kind of warmth rose within her.

Beckett looked up from the tablet. "Tell you what, why don't you take your shore leave, don't give this another thought, and when you return, you'll be ready to pursue your studies further and you can discuss all of it with us. Fresh minds, new ideas…there's no limit." He peered at her. "But…can I just ask…well, you've never brought this up before. I like what you've done so far. I'm just a bit curious, Ritha; why now?"

Ritha shrugged a little. "I wasn't sure…well, with everything that was going on in the war it ironically seemed a low priority...and I needed to be sure I was truly prepared to present my work in the first place. I'm still a cadet compared to the rest of the medics here."

"Oh come now, you're brilliant enough. And your hesitation is understandable. Are you afraid of being wrong, is that it?"

"I don't know, it's…" Ritha picked up her tablet. "I'm so sure I'm on to something. The details can wait I suppose. Much as I hate to put a hold on things."

"I know the feeling. But we'll be back to it in no time. I'm interested to know more about what you're thinking."

"Thank you. We'll see if it's worth it."

"You go out and get rid of all those nasty little buggers we call dead brain cells. I'm not sure I'll recover from mine any time soon," Beckett accompanied Ritha to the exit.

"I will return to Atlantis more inspired than ever. I hope you enjoy your leave."

"You as well."

Her heart alight with ideas about a wide-open, welcoming future, and a new eagerness lighting her pale, slightly odd features, Ritha headed for her quarters to finish preparing to spend two weeks on her home planet.

And all of that had occurred seven years ago. She could still recall the conversation...

2009 was long over and done with….

Ritha rested her head in her hands.

Could things hurt worse than they did now? She had never suffered so much she needed more than the usual daily dosage. Image upon image, light upon light, incident upon incident rose to the surface of her memory as trapped bubbles in a great expanse of water. But it was not an extraordinary experience in the sense that she was well accustomed to it by now. Her work cubicle posed the same appearance as ever, crowded with sheafs of papers, books, diagrams, a few tablets and a laptop, and decorated with various images, not the least of which was covered in complex numerical patterns and equations and a hand…a long, pale hand with a slit in its heart. A calendar sported a large burgundy 2016.

Ritha spread her hands, moved them aside, and lowered her forehead onto the glowing tablet before her. She took no notice when the touchscreen reacted to the pressure, flickering with opening and closing windows. There was nothing to do but wait for the pain to subside. Ritha opened her eyes a little and a glaring line of blue caused them to snap shut again. Why does life hold so many mysteries? she wondered dully. The familiar leather cushion at her back called to her to lean into it and with a small groan, Ritha accepted its invitation. Her chin pointed toward the ceiling.

What had been the use of her studies? Woolsey, several years prior, had insisted that Michael's gene therapy had been a failure for the time being, despite Ritha's protests to reassure him that it was still worth attempting to unlock its original secrets. Woolsey was, of course, more interested in Keller's renditions as she was the medical expert. Ritha drew a deep breath as an image of the terrible Queen Death floated inside her tightly shut eyes. Hive ship lasers booming… darts whining through atmospheres and across cities and towns…screaming, fleeing people…curtains of white light that made them vanish…and pale hands with long fingernails…

Ritha sat up suddenly, and right in sync with the memory of a violent space explosion, her right hand slammed down upon the glowing diagram of an arm. Disproportionate to her movement, reverberations seemed to sweep through the room. Just inside the central area of the picture rested a small heart shaped organ. Various tendons and veins twisted about the muscular frame. Ritha allowed her narrow-eyed gaze to float at whim. Countless times had she studied the workings of the wraith feeding organ, observed its clutches and its disengagements, read the enzyme algorithms and listened to the beating of that tiny heart situated in the crook of the elbow.

Beckett had continuously seemed to believe that Keller was going to succeed and there was no cause to continue studying something that was not going to be eliminated but rather utilized while allowing victims to live. Ritha's answer, still echoing in her own ears, had been precisely this: "My research shall be never-ending."

Little did the commanders of Atlantis know how far she had come in understanding Ancient technology. The writings about her discoveries were secretly copied onto tens upon tens of crystal wafers. And unbeknownst to the doctors and lab technicians, Ritha had hidden them within some of the most undetectable Ancient wall safes she had discovered in her sleeping quarters.

Given a position in an SG team because of her knowledge, but still unable to prove to her superiors that she was more gifted than they supposed, Ritha had spent the years, following Atlantis' return to the Pegasus Galaxy, on mission after mission with her team. Any chance she obtained to see or speak with a Wraith, she counted as solid gold in her treasury of knowledge.

Ritha absentmindedly traced the palm of her right hand. The fire of total frustration surged through her as it always had, beginning seven years ago.

The galaxy had demanded the attention of Sheppard's team and the two doctors. Ritha had felt somewhat stranded. And now that Atlantis and the Galaxy were safe, her passion for pursuit of her own theories was rearing its head higher than ever.

Ritha, now thirty-two years old, had maintained her fit physique and martial arts abilities. She always wore the same attire when off duty: a simple dark knee-length tunic, flared pants, and boots. Her ankle-length coat of midnight black always hung open. She wore no jewelry or embellishments except for a single wraith organ feeding fang in a tiny glass bottle on a chain around her neck. She had obtained it from a dead wraith on a hive ship just three years ago. Ritha also tended to wear her thick hair in a style that Colonel Sheppard had once remarked reminded him a little too much of a Wraith queen he had "the honor" to meet. Ritha did not mind, especially because she knew that John Sheppard was not unfriendly, and sure enough, when she had looked up, he was smiling and even Ronan had joined in.

Ritha slid her hands lovingly underneath the trusted tablet and glowing blue outlines of various wraith hand anatomy seared themselves in her gaze, into her brain, into her very soul. There was so much…food for thought. Ritha smirked. Painful humor had lain dormant within her for a very…very… long time.

Suddenly, she stood, the hem of her long coat whirling about her ankles as she walked away from the computer station. The door swung closed behind her, and the laptop images of wraith feeding organ anatomy glowed lonely and blue.

It was as though Ritha was walking in time to the slow, deep-thrumming beat of a long lost song that spoke of heartbeats, wind, horizons, journeys not yet begun. Memories crowded and jostled for attention.

"I told you it would work…"

Her right foot made contact with the polished floor of the main corridor. The call of a voice, soft and yet louder than the roar of the seas that caressed the shores of her home planet Earth, rippled through her.

"The retrovirus will not knit a feeding organ closed nor transfer its power to the digestive system…"

Ritha's left boot reflected the light from a stained glass window.

"Atlantis will return…"

Ritha maintained her pace.

"There is much about wraith you do not know…"

The long sleeves of the satin-lined coat creased gently as her arms swung.

"We must focus on the wraith without focusing on the hand…"

The corridor was alive with people, but they were just part of Atlantis. Ritha did not break stride.

The data made sense. Equations filled her field of vision. Folds of long black coat brushed gently against her legs. Her data watch winked with sunlight fire.

A shadow warbled over the heartline in her right hand as she continued through the corridors. "There is much about the wraith you do not know…" Ritha shook her head. She knew far more than she had let on in the past year.

Suddenly, for some reason she could not explain, Ritha headed for the dining hall. Upon arrival, she loaded a tray with food and cast about for a place to sit, her mind spinning, weaving its knowledge into a completed spider's web.

Ritha stared. The bald head of Commander Woolsey was visible in the crowd of people, and he was sitting with Teyla and Ronan. Ritha pondered approaching them. She had been planning to meet Woolsey in his office, but here was an opportune moment to speak immediately. Head still whirling with disorganized data, Ritha slowly made her way through the crowd.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she ventured at Woolsey's elbow.

"Ms. Guider." Woolsey's eyes shone dark, curious, kind, and penetrating behind his framed glasses. "We have not seen you around for some time."

Ronan gave Ritha a glance and continued eating. His long dark hair kept getting in the way of his fork.

"Well. Have a seat," Woolsey invited and Teyla nodded.

Setting down her tray, Ritha slid into a chair. Feeling her arms slowly lay themselves elegantly upon the tabletop, a position she often assumed when she was nervous, Ritha spoke in steady, mellow tones. "I have not been traversing Atlantis very much."

"Not since your last mission. I am sure you've been hard at work ever since." Woolsey smiled with his lips.

Neither Ritha nor the leader of Atlantis spoke for a few seconds, the former trying to meet his eyes without flinching, and he, in turn, waiting patiently. Ritha always wondered what it was about Woolsey that made her feel that she was under scrutiny, and yet it was so gentle she was never angered by it. This, in turn, made her annoyed. The mixture of emotions grew and she shook her head a little. "Commander."

Woolsey merely gazed at her.

"I wish to…I know this is rather sudden perhaps…I request permission to bring up what I presented seven years ago after Atlantis returned to Earth. I spoke of it last year as well." She paused and swallowed. This was awkward, but also amusing "Do you remember it?"

"I remember." Woolsey maintained his neutral expression.

Teyla's eyebrows lifted in gentle curiosity, and she and Ronan exchanged a look.

This was it. Ritha looked up at the decorated walls. Why wouldn't the words just come? "I wish to open my investigations publicly about the retrovirus. Well…I…" Ritha regretted not meeting Woolsey in his office. But Teyla smiled at her, and Ronan continued eating as if nothing mattered.

Woolsey remained stationary. "We have reached a truce..." he said, his voice tone giving away the fact that she might not have understood that fact the first time.

"The wraith are never ending," Ritha murmured, just to see Ronan roll his eyes a bit.

Woolsey clenched his jaw a little. "Your studies are certainly advanced, Guider. And while I allowed Beckett and Keller to back you in your experiments, the retrovirus was a total and complete success. You heard Todd's reports. You were there countless times when Keller allowed herself to be fed upon."

"Can Death be forgotten so easily?"

Teyla gave Ritha a sage look. "She is long gone."

Woolsey leaned on the table. "You fear some wraith would want to override the retrovirus?"

"I'd like to see them try," Ronan said with his mouth full.

Ritha leaned forward. "Commander." She felt her eagerness pressing against the walls of her face. "Michael was indeed a Wraith. And a scientist. He could do what he did because he of what he was and what he became."

Woolsey sat back in his chair. "I get where you're going with this as usual. I don't think that is a concern any longer. The retrovirus has been used in the hive ships themselves, and will eventually take effect to the full, altering their DNA irrevocably."

"Like when the Iratus…altered human DNA irrevocably?" Ritha asked carelessly, regretting all the more her sudden instigation of this conversation. She had begun and she was not going to back down again. "I have told Keller before, sir, I have a backup plan."

"And what is her answer?"

"The same as yours. That there is no need to worry, the retrovirus cannot be overridden. It takes its hold too deeply."

Ronan's burly arms were crossed over his chest. "Guess she's got a point."

"You are dreading the past, Ritha," Teyla said.

Ritha shrugged. "You know I'm a raving theorizer. Who knows what may still be out there. Atlantis may have done away with Death, but I have not forgotten her."

Teyla nodded. "Neither has any of us."

Just a year prior, Ritha had spoken with Todd multiple times of the very same concerns she was resharing with Woolsey now. He too had attempted to reassure her that he knew exactly what was being done and that it would not fail. However, he had not been so hasty to shoot down her doubts.

"Are you sure about this?" Ritha had asked tentatively at his elbow.

Todd's long white hair hung partially over his face as he turned his tall frame toward the little scientist. "If your Doctor Keller's experiments prove successful, I will not hesitate to be the first of my race to implement the retrovirus. I will not say this cannot fail...but I have every assurance I need that your reencoding strands are secure."

Ritha had fixed him with a solid stare. "We all are hoping it works. But I fear…"

"What is it you fear?"

Ritha did not break eye contact. "Only that anyone could write a virus to counteract it."

Todd's eyes had widened slightly. "Let us hope that such a thing does not occur." He had paused. "Sometimes…you are like wraith..."

How predictable of him. And Ritha had fallen silent, giving up the attempt to convince Todd that anything could go wrong at the worst moment even as the Ancients had with the Attero device and the Wraith-kin. She had, after all, written a base code for what he was working on. But his understanding of the reactions was far advanced. Ritha knew Todd hated listening to Rodney chatter-boxing, and she did not wish to try the wraith's patience.

Ritha returned to the present with her utensil hovering over her food. "I'm not really trying to be difficult."

Woolsey smiled a little. "Sharing your concerns is never a bad thing. Your ability to consider the possibility of negative consequences in the future is not a vice, but a virtue."

Ritha smirked. "Ahhh, thank you, sir, I do not consider myself to be virtuous."

"Perhaps that is also why Todd gave you the name that he did," Teyla said, while Woolsey looked just a bit disapproving of anyone being assigned a name in Wraith. "Virtue" is also the translation of your given name if I'm not mistaken."

Ritha laughed a little. "You know his expertise with sarcasm."

Todd's true name loosely translated as Guide. Ritha's surname being Guider had been something of a secret, ironic joke among the medical staff and Keller and Beckett had smiled at the coincidence. Sheppard and Ronan had not.

But what was a little humor among friends…

Teyla and Ronan exchanged another glance and Woolsey continued to finish his meal, but he stole many glances at Ritha.

Ronan shrugged and rubbed his nose. His dark eyes flitted between Ritha and thin air.

"The virus has seen no drawbacks and given us potential, total peace between the Wraith and humans," Teyla said gently.

Woolsey sat back and pressed his napkin to his lips. "We are, however, still in a red zone. Ms. Guider, I appreciate your attention to the fact that history does, inevitably, repeat itself. But…let's not create bridges before we've come to them."

Ronan's eyebrows contracted. Teyla put down her drink but did not comment.

This was it, Ritha thought. They were humoring her. And she could secretly laugh along with them. They were, after all, practically veterans. She had never been in a fire fight.

The conversation drifted away into other topics, and Ritha eventually took her leave of the little group, unable to express herself any further. She could feel Ronan's and Woolsey's steady gazes following her as she dropped off her empty dishes and tray. The same sensation that often arose, that of being split into two entirely different beings, swept over her, unwelcoming and cold.

If she ever shared her knowledge with the Commander, she would probably be put under investigation. If she merely spoke of the notions in passing, she would not be believed. Ritha headed to her quarters, determined for the hundredth time to destroy her data files. And for the hundredth time, she only succeeded in running her fingertips over the beloved wall safes where the crystals lay, silent and dark, concealing her secrets.

Ritha placed her open palm against the wall and bowed her head.