PRIMIS : THE HOPE
Prologue – Several decades earlier.
SGA SGA SGA
Day was turning into night with bolder colours that swirled and glittered in the night sky and against the landscape on the rarely visited planet. It was strangely welcoming and perhaps should have been viewed for a time yet, but now was not the time to stand and stare when they did not know what night creatures could startle them.
And their arrival had been noticed.
A stealth like creature; slow and stalking like a cat suddenly screeched with the sound of an irritated bird that stilled the night.
Mus'va'lan whirled on her booted feet so fast, her thudding heart almost leapt from her chest. "What was that? Did you hear it?" She whispered, clutching on to the larger man standing beside her, grabbing his arm for support to regain her balance.
The man took a step forward. "If it is anything ferocious then I blame you for not leaving when I suggested." He answered her back in his normal tone refusing to be intimidated both by his wife and the creature she imagined she had heard.
"What do you mean if?" She spat back.
"Ever since we landed here you have squealed viewings of several animals, plants and minerals that we have never encountered before. It is getting hard to distinguish between fright and flight. Mix that with delight and I am totally confused, my wife." Santana taunted.
"V!"
A shuffling behind them and someone else calmly walked up beside them.
"Yes?"
"You did not hear a strange call? See a strange creature?"
"No, but this area of land has many different types of footprints."
Cursing themselves for not thinking of that earlier, husband and wife immediately took a slight side step each and looked at the ground they stood on. In the diminishing light it was not possible for them to make it out too clearly, but the night vision of their Wraith friend was superior to theirs and they turned back to their friend in unison as he suddenly started walking away from them.
"Van'te'enna, what do you see?" Mus'va'lan was, as always, in awe of his superior senses.
Van'te'enna kept walking to point at the bushes. "A creature like I have not come across before in all my travels, although I have heard mention of the elusive Duk'tara before. It means 'blending' in my language, but not much is known about it.
"What is known?" Mus'va'lan quickly wanted to know, wondering if she needed to run any time soon.
"It is said that it is a mix of creatures. Both bird and animal. Long legs and black beak and wings that are so powerful it will knock you down dead if it lands on you." Van'te'enna laughed at the last bit adding flames to the fire simmering in his friends eyes.
"You made that up!"
"Perhaps the last bit…ssh!" He suddenly whispered and stooped down. One grey hand steadying his crouched body on the stony ground. Santana followed him, pulling his wife down with him.
A second after, and the creature emerged near the 'gate. Approaching darkness and foliage keeps his full body hidden; even to Van'te'enna's eyes. He stares at the spot he believes him to be with his friends remaining stock still and following his eye.
Finally the creature rears up on impossibly long back legs for any bird that also bore the body of a furry creature. It then stood back on all fours and they watched as a long pointed tail whipped up as if testing the air and it remained like that for a couple of minutes; probably returning the stare that the two humans and one wraith were doing.
"It is time to go." Van'te'enna broke the silence. Mus'va'lan cursed him in her own language and glowered as the creature started to run in front of the 'gate.
"We will lose sight of him if he goes back into the bushes first."
"Forget it. We must go through the 'gate now or a search party will be sent. We must not incur the wrath of our Queen. She is not in the best of moods just now with war imminent and my parting with you so you could harvest some of the legendary fruit this planet grows for yourselves."
"What do you mean 'our Queen'? Santana raised an eyebrow. "We may help each other out in many ways, but she does not rule us, my friend, and who made her go into a bad mood, hmm?"
Van'te'enna grimaced and instinctively curled his feeding hand whilst he growled and took a step towards Santana who grinned like a cat that got the cream.
"One day you will goad me into actions my body might not be able to stop!"
Santana was tall and he took a step towards the equally tall Wraith, not in the least bit threatened by him. "But you cannot feed from a Carakan can you?" He mocked pushing his hand away and turned away from the seething Wraith, the age old argument threatening to boil over again.
"Boys!" Mus'va'lan took a step towards the 'gate. "C'mon then. I, for one, do not want to see our friend in trouble even if you do, my annoying husband." She smiled towards Santana.
It would be Santana's last memory of his wife as he knew her.
From the rest of that night onwards, all their lives changed and were never the same again.
The first thing they noticed happen in the breezy night air was a silver circle that shone in the night sky that contorted and shifted and seemed to elongate. The sound would follow later.
The 'gate at the same time was beginning the countdown of an incoming party, and they knew some drones' arrival was imminent. They had been too late in their return after all and the Queen had been impatient with their return.
The silver in the sky quite quickly elongated into a solid folding and unfolding silver line that sparked as if it was a thick live wire.
"What...?" Santana began, mesmerised by the shimmering event.
Van'te'enna stepped closer to the 'gate. "I think we should redial and leave here the moment the drones come through."
Santana was young and strong and thought nothing could bring him down. "Let's see what folds out from this. It could be a vortex."
"You are foolish. We should go."
The last glyph shone successfully in the dark surround, and Van'te'enna made towards it, only being brought to a halt by Santana. "Wait! Look!"
The Wraith growled deep in his throat but watched as the silver thread danced in the sky like a whip as it got closer and closer to land.
The bang it created as the bottom part of it touched the ground in front of them was like nothing Santana could ever explain to others, other than it was the sound that took away his soul. It sucked the life out of him and forced it back on a breath that did not come easy to keep and was threatened with getting sucked back out again. He landed on his backside with concussive force the connection to land caused, his right hand automatically reaching out for his wife's collar to join him in the safety of the ground, but he fell too far away from her for contact.
The surface of the ground is hard and covered in small stones that are sharp and bite at his clothes, body and exposed hands, but Santana ignores all that and tries to get to his knees, but the concussing force still whips about them, until, in horror, Santana sees an opening appear above Mus'va'lan's head as she gets to her feet. The shimmering end of the silver thread sways back and forward as if seeking something. Santana feels sick at the sight, but he is bewitched into watching it.
It crackles and bangs with frightening regularity until it is stable and just as the 'gate finally whooshed forth with a blue flourish, it touches down beside it and the combined energy dispatches the first two drones that come through quickly and they vanish into its shimmering power.
Van'te'enna is nearest Mus'va'lan. He roughly forces her down and away from the same fate before he fell onto his knees with the force of the push.
But her fate was sealed the moment his action moved her body. She, unfortunately, fell into the oncoming direction of the Wraith Queen that took that moment to step through from the 'gates travel. Reflexes out, the Queen caught her mid fall, unaware of what was going on above her head, but wondering where her drones had gone so quickly from her sight. Immediately she knew it had not been a good idea to come and seek out her servant, but she had needed an escape from her plans of an army and this seemed a good place to chase away the cobwebs in her mind. Whatever number of drones that were to follow through after her were never known.
Once you stepped into 'gate travel you could not go back in or die, so the Queen had no option but to follow through with her destination and stepped into a nightmare scenario.
The woman she knew as Mus'va'lan came barrelling towards her. She stopped her fall, more out of reflex than want. Her regret was immediate, for as she did, the silver thread's opening revealed a small object not unlike a small craft that threatened to explode upon impact as it hit the ground and shivered and spat lightning bolts out everywhere.
Santana was clear of the implosion when it happened as all the remains of the ship came tumbling down in a straight trajectory towards his wife.
"No. It cannot be!" Santana shouted out.
The silver thread in the sky had been enough mystery before, but the small craft that appeared out of its mouth was now even more impossible to understand. No-one expected it to implode and spill its wares. The Queen did not want to take hold of Mus'va'lan's arm. She, in turn, just wanted away from all the frightful noise, and getting back through the 'gate was first in her mind. Van'te'enna, aghast at seeing his Queen emerge from the vortex took a second too long to walk towards her.
And in the dark, a solitary Duk'tara wandered into too close a proximity to the shattering boom and it engulfed it, the Queen and Mus'va'lan, throwing the three backwards and into the silver threads light.
As quickly as the light show had happened it was over.
A groggy Santana got to his feet and immediately looked for his wife in the empty space. "Mus'va'lan!" he cried.
He could not see her anywhere.
Van'te'enna, closest to her and the Queen at the time, ran towards his fallen Queen and fell on his knees beside her. She, being the only one now visible.
"Wait!" Santana cried as he ran towards them. "She could be electrocuted or something, you shouldn't touch her." And all the time he wondered where his wife had gone.
Reaching his Wraith friend. He put his hands on his knees and tried to get a breath. "What's happened?" For he saw only one body – and that was Wraith.
"My Queen?" Van'te'enna breathed out slowly. His voice sending shivers down Santana's spine with the uncertainty in his voice. The pair of friends also taking in the various shards and smoking pieces of a downed craft.
Santana placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him as he looked closer at the fallen Queen. He quickly drew in a breath and almost forgot to do the next one until Van'te'enna shook him for it.
"My friend." His words were too kind, too soft. He saw what Santana did not.
"What... has …happened?" Santana asked softly in return, too afraid of the answer.
Van'te'enna bowed his head and moved aside. What could he tell him he didn't understand – only to let him see for himself.
Somehow Santana expected to see shimmering light still on the fallen figure, but what lay there was, on first glance, the Wraith Queen as she usually was in her long black dress and red hair. But as the figure started to moan slightly and moved from her stomach only to land on her back, Santana's hand flew to his mouth and he took an involuntary step back, for what lay at his feet was the body of the Queen as he remembered her, but, his wife – his beautiful wife Mus'va'lan – it was her face that now looked up at him in obvious shock, gasping like a landed fish. Only her face and neck were covered with what looked like black ink. Reaching out to cup her head, Santana's hand shook as it brushed her skin. It was cold, too cold. Wraith cold. "Mus'va, are you okay?" Santana called her by her nickname. It came out without thinking.
"That is not my name. Do not use it in my presence again." The figure on the ground spat.
Santana took a step further backwards for that was not the voice or essence of his wife that spoke. It was a Wraith's voice.
Van'te'enna grabbed his elbow and together they stood, side by side as The Queen stood on strong legs. The only visible female body present now stood in front of them and it was clear that somehow, they were now one…and obviously the Wraith side of them the dominant.
"What happened?" The Queen asked, her eyes going between the two rapidly for an answer; perhaps this time more like the attitude of Santana's wife, although her voice remained Wraith.
"We do not know…my Queen." Van'te'enna replied, for he knew her to be Wraith.
A spark danced off the metal of the 'gate and for a second her face was lit and Santana gasped, his fist fitting snugly in his open mouth in shock.
"You do not like my look?" She said sarcastically for she knew full well now what she was and how her image had changed. "I feel…so strong…so vital. I feel…wait! ...there are others in me…" she took a step towards Van'te'enna. "My goodness, you do not know. I am not alone. Others – there are others in me. I have them collected." She suddenly spun towards Santana who was on the verge of tears. He had somehow lost his wife and there was no explaining it.
"She is here…your wife!" She said with a raised eyebrow. "I have her memories of you. She is not exactly gone, but never to appear again as she was, although I think I will keep her name. She wants to be part of me and help me sort out my new imprinted memories. Be sated with that for it is all you will know of her – that she is now a part of me. Perhaps it best if you do not come near me..." she looked at Van'te'enna. "... or Van'te'enna again."
"But…" Santana began taking a step closer.
"Leave her!" Van'te'enna blocked his path, noticing the feeding arm come up and unsure of her new powers.
Santana glowered. "We have a son!"
The Queen glowered back and was lifting him up by his chin within seconds. "Had! Had a son until you let him try his experiment!" Shocked that she should know this, The Queen let him go.
She let Santana's bow his head, almost wasted now in grief. "This experiment appeals to me; I will investigate that later when I have my science team gleam this land of the fragments of what has come through today. You think this to be the same thing happen again? You think it might have been your son?"
"My Queen. Please. He has suffered enough. We do not know that."
The Queen spun and back handed Van'te'enna. "You dare to tell me what to do. I am still your Queen. You fall in favour with me, Van'te'enna, perhaps you should just stay behind with your friend also."
It was then that the planet's two moons came from behind a cloud and Mus'va'lan's face was lit up more for all to see.
It was again a shock to see the face that neither of them were yet used to. A dark, black tattoo of a Duk'tara was imprinted on the left side. It did not move. It was dead. But it had obviously been moulded onto her skin at the moment of contact with the loud bang. A long black tail whipped around her neck and down it to vanish under the dress beneath. Long legs also wrapped around her neck to complete the look.
"Am I not beautiful?" Somehow she knew about the mythical creatures imprint on her without looking.
A long, sharp, female wraith finger raised Santana's head up to look into her eyes.
The Queen started to say something but changed her mind.
She picked up her long dress and strode towards the 'gate. "Dial!" She commanded Van'te'enna. "We have some explaining to do."
And with these words, Van'te'enna knew he would go with her.
Santana made to go and touch his wife one last time but Van'te'enna stopped him with a fierce grip of his wrist.
He sought his friends face. He could not possibly understand the grief he was feeling, but he was not without realising he had fallen short of being a friend.
"I cannot allow you to harm her. I will look after them both."
The Queen snorted and moved with a threatening step towards Santana, that Van'te'enna now blocked in reverse.
"Pah. That will be the first and last time you ever stop me again. Remember that Van'te'enna!"
Van'te'enna bowed with a flourish and went to follow his new Queen, both of them knowing they needed each other for so many reasons.
"I owe you." Was all he said to Santana as he pushed something into his hand retrieved from his pocket. "Use it once only." He walked away from Santana and pressed the code that would take them back to Amitiyaz and away from unanswered questions, but with a newly updated Queen who oozed strength and vigour.
Santana watched them go, fingering the communication device his friend had given him. He had neither the strength nor cunning to win his wife back. But now he had a son ... and a wife that he hoped to be reunited with one day. He vowed there and then he would become the mightiest and strongest Caraken out there to have the ability to make these promises to himself come true.
He knew he would need help from someone out there who could make sense of what had just happened. He knew one day that help would come. He just had to be patient and perhaps call in that favour one day and all his questions would be answered.
SGA SGA SGA
Chapter One
John was dead. At least that's what he presumed because he had no idea where he was or what he was feeling. The last thing he remembered was Van'te'enna grabbing his arm none too gently, and together with a drone on the other side of him holding him tight, he was taken from Mus'va'lan's chambers, and, in doing so, away from the overly loud protests of Ronon and the frightened face of Carson who had been left behind with him whilst the others had been forced to leave and bring back Atlantis.
He reached out his mind but all he felt was nothingness. It might have been nice to float there for a time as he had felt nothing but pain for so long a time now; but at the back of his mind, he knew this wasn't where he should be. He had people to protect. People were missing. Still, he didn't he even have a clue as to what was happening in his brain, far less what was happening outside of his body. Even that did not seem his own right now.
He had been ill, he knew that. Very ill. But what condition was he in now? He struggled against an invisible hold, but he definitely could not feel his body. He felt detached from it, like he was drugged.
What had happened?
There was a sound. Perhaps a subtle cough. Perhaps not so subtle. He felt a brush of something touch his neck, face and chest. He tried to pull away from it, but then he remembered he had no body to do so. He felt he should be panicking. Strangely, he was actually comfortable where he was.
Eventually time fought back, and with great effort he opened one eye. At first, he could not make sense of what he was looking at it. The wall in front of him seemed to move backwards and forwards in dizzying degrees. He slammed his eye back shut again, vowing it was too early to come out of his fugue anyway.
John checked out again.
Then there was pulling and lifting and something that felt a little rough on his skin moved over his chest so he tried to turn away from it. Then noises like voices speaking too fast assaulted his ears and he tried in vain to back away from the intrusion. From his captors? That's right, he was captured not that long ago, as were his team…Teyla!
John struggled then, really pushed against those who were holding him. He realised that was what was happening now. Someone, or several had a hold of him. They were carrying him somewhere, and with him feeling as detached as he was it was impossible to fight against what was happening.
Senseless words followed a wet breath that landed on his face and his bare chest, and still he fought until he realised he could actually feel the spittle that fell on him. That meant he was becoming more aware. His arms and legs were being held down he realised. It didn't feel right. Then the surface on which he was being pushed into folded with the weight of him in a supportive embrace. It was soft, not hard like cold metal or cool wood. Honest to goodness soft bedding was under him and he allowed himself to relax slightly. No torture followed placement on the previously known luxury of daily living. He was safe. He was being looked after. The dizzying wall that threatened to undo him earlier backed away from him and allowed him some space. It was a person that was moving backwards and forward. He realised that now.
"Wha…" he breathed out. Even that took too much energy and he lapsed into the bedding further with the energy expelled with that simple act.
John coughed, '...what happened?" He tried again.
"Easy." The words fluttered around his head until they stilled enough for them to make sense. That was Ronon speaking. He had probably repeated the same word a good few times now, he thought.
"R'n?" Nausea reared its ugly head.
"Yes, Sheppard. I'm here. So is Carson. Just take it easy would you and stop fighting us."
"...kay."
But he wanted more answers to his unspoken questions that his mind mulled over. "What's …wrong with…me?" Talking was harder than it ought to be. He thought Ronon then squeezed his ankle and he was relieved to feel that his legs were getting feeling back in them too.
He heard a shift of bodies and then the soft mattress dipped suddenly beside him, and somebody was sitting by him. He could feel the warm body soak through the blankets and into his side. It was a comfort.
John kept his eyes shut, but was unsure what was happening when a cool hand was placed over his heart and started patting it softly.
"You've been through hell and back, son. But rest up and you will feel much better soon."
John knew then that with the Scottish brogue of Carson speaking softly in his ear he was being well cared for and tried to obey him.
He fluttered his eyes to try and fully wake. Carson continued. "You're back with us now. They tried to heal you…" he started before looking up at a solemn Ronon, "…but they could only do so much."
That got his interest. Tried?
After what seemed a time, but was probably only seconds, John forced heavy eye lids open and managed to get them to stay that way. He was pleased Carson was still there.
"C'son? Explain…please."
Ronon grunted and moved away. His solid presence leaving his other side and he felt an ache at his departure. He turned a weighty head in his direction and was pleased to see him return and then lean over him.
"That bitch Queen almost killed you. That's what happened!"
"Ronon, not so loud. Let the Colonel come to first before you overload him with information."
John reached out a shaky arm; wanting someone to pull him up into a sitting position.
"Now, now. Stay where you are, hmm. Getting up too fast is not going to help you any."
"Fine…but someone tell me…what the…hell…happ'nd…" John squeezed his eyes shut as the room suddenly tilted.
"See! Now, listen to me, son. You are in no condition to get up right now. Go to sleep and we will fill you in when you next wake up."
But John was nothing if not stubborn. "Now, please, Carson?" He shifted to look at Ronon as he leaned on the wall again beside his bed; left leg raised with the foot resting on the wall. He crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his armpits, and shook his head at his obvious upset at his friend's condition.
"All right." Carson sympathised. "Not long after everyone left to find Atlantis, the Queen…she...um, she decided to push your mind too far. She forced herself on you too much. She had been patient with you up until now – but as she had you captured again, she was going to meld with your mind come what may."
John closed his eyes and slowed his breathing remembering none of this. He opened them again when, an unusually gentle Ronon, came forward and clasped John's cold, folded hands over his stomach and moulded his own over the top of them. "You, okay?" He asked.
John gulped, but nodded. "She went too far?"
"You could say that. She had you seizing and then you were waking up shouting out in pain; clutching your head in distress."
John's mouth twitched to the side. His mind searched for the remembrance of the agony but, thankfully, he came out blank. Suddenly he stilled. The memory of everything going black and out of control starting to creep in.
"She …killed me...didn't she?"
Carson sighed heavily and turned his chin so he would look at him. "I didn't let her. I gave you the last injector I had and …"
"The last?"
"Aye. But you won't need them anymore, son."
"I won't?" John asked confused.
Carson dipped his head.
John furrowed his brow, finding strength in his voice. "Carson?"
"I'm sorry, John. In the end it was desperate. They had to…oh, bloody hell, John…forgive me for standing by and letting it happen, but it was the only option…and we were held back anyway...no choice..."
John was well and truly worried now. He looked from Carson to Ronon, and back again, puzzled.
Carson quickly glanced at Ronon before swallowing hard. "The Queen ordered one of her drones to give you enzyme. We had to save you, it was the only way, John...you were dying. "
Finally, John understood why his two friends were acting wary with him. He swallowed hard himself and slowly released his left hand from under Ronon's grasp and placed it, shaking, over a mottled white bandage of white and red covering a new and obviously bloody wound.
"Oh…no!" He whispered. His chest rising fast and quick in panic.
"John, listen to me. Look at me." Carson begged as John tried to look at his chest. "It was the only way to save your life"
"But Wraith, Carson! … Again!" His eyes were huge as he looked at his friend.
"He didn't take, only gave!" Carson tried to soothe him. Biting his lip when he remembered he had nothing to take anyway.
Carson forcibly grabbed his head and held it still while he looked into his eyes. "Now you listen to me good, John. She used a drone. It died in the process, so you have no connection to it. Do you hear me? It's not…it's not like it was with Todd. Okay? John?"
John drew his head away from Carson's grasp and turned tired and desperate eyes towards Ronon, who was watching his interchange with Carson carefully the whole time.
Ronon sighed. "It was necessary all right…and you know I wouldn't have wanted that for you if there had been a choice. You are alive, John. That's what matters…that, and the fact that you are probably cured of the sickness."
John slowly nodded, glad he had been honest with him, and somehow it settled his troubled mind that if Ronon was okay with what they did to him, then he would find a way to deal with it too.
He let all he heard digest for a moment, aware both his friends were studying his reactions, but kind enough to let him take it all in. He moved his hand gently over the bandage and reached out to the rest of his body with his mind, and was surprised to find that – yes, he did not feel as ill as he was; and the debilitating headaches that had dictated how he moved on a daily basis had receded. Slowly, very slowly, he allowed a small smile to creep on his face.
"I…" Suddenly overwhelmed with relief, he stopped talking as he knew his voice was going to crack with emotion.
Carson smiled down at him. "After the drone…well, done his bit. They also put you in a healing chamber…I've never seen so much gloop." He jerked a thumb back towards Ronon. "Should have seen your buddy here…pacing and shouting at their rough handling of you. Wouldn't leave you alone until we got you out of there and carried you here once you were released. We didn't want them to touch you anymore, you had had enough."
John managed to make a fist and Ronon came nearer to hit it gently with his own in mutual camaraderie; a broad smile on his face. "You took some cleaning up."
"Thanks." He whispered, remembering Torren doing the same thing before. John wiped his tired eyes, the last of his energy leaving him, but then he remembered something from earlier. "…and the 'BUT'?"
Carson grimaced. "They put you in the chamber as the Queen wants you strong enough to try again."
"She does?" John started to shift on the bed, getting a little bit agitated. "Does she not learn?"
"Unfortunately, the connection is still there, John. She can sense it but won't know how much until you are fully awake and recovered. As for the sickness her poison caused you when it was first released, that should all be cleared up. Not all things heal so you still have a nice wound on your head, your arm, and of course…that!" He pointed to his chest. "…but they will clear up soon enough."
John raised his weak arm and noticed the leather covering back in place. "Uh?"
"It didn't heal. Without a scanner I can't really tell you what's going on with that. They didn't seem to know either." Carson expanded.
At seeing his despondent expression, Carson got off his bed and looked down at him. "We have talked too much. You need your rest. Just know this, John. You are FAR better than you were this morning. Hours ago we thought we had lost you. Miraculously, you are back with us and we are not going to let you go downhill again because you didn't get enough sleep. So…know this, John, you are better; not completely, but rest will aid you further. Ronon and I need some sleep also as it happens." Carson said, looking up at Ronon who looked slightly less agitated than earlier.
"Where…where will you…sleep...?"
"We have beds here also. We do not intend to leave you alone. Now, shut up and sleep." Ronon gruffly told him, which didn't co-ordinate with the smile on his face.
"Besides; the Queen isn't here just now. Gone in her dart somewhere seemingly, so you can rest easy."
Carson studied him closely. There was more going on in his mind other than his health if his facial expression – or lack thereof was to be judged correctly. He watched as John jammed a thumb into his brow, obviously a dull headache was present.
"You, okay? Headache?" Carson ventured.
John simply nodded.
"Teyla." He said simply, and Carson could have kicked himself for realising that that was what John was really bothered about.
"She'll be fine." Ronon told him looking straight into his eyes. "Listen to Carson, John, and get some sleep then we'll talk again."
John did just so. He breathed out and let his body succumb to what it had been trying to tell him – sleep. His eyes closed of their own accord and he felt himself drift down into a deep slumber; only the soft footsteps of his friends leaving his bedside kept him from getting there quicker. He wanted to know that they were safe first.
Not till the quiet whispering of his friends making their way to their own beds had ceased, did John sleep. He had no clue of the many times Carson and Ronon checked on him through the night because he did not stir the whole time.
When he woke in the morning, and before his friends did, John felt more energised than he had in probably over a year, truth be known. He stood up, touched his toes, pulled himself up again, stretched up and back as far as he could and smirked; both these two things had been something he had wanted to do pain free for long enough. Now that he could move freely with the release of pain, John was ready to face a new day and start to turn the tide of events in their favour.
SGA SGA SGA
Santana moved his eyes away from witnessing the joyful reunion of Teyla with her son. He did not feel he should allow himself such luxuries of witnessing what was part of someone else's joy, but the emotions of it hit him in the stomach like no punch could ever have done. He was the one, after all, who had hindered her return to the young child in the first place, never mind being party to the non-return of the boy's father.
He knew what losing loved ones felt like. He did not know how it felt to have them returned.
Santana closed his eyes briefly with sadness before allowing a non-too gentle prod on his back to start moving forward and he snapped them open again.
The journey to Atlantis had been uneventful; flying in what they called their puddle jumper; their little, but very capable space craft. Santana had been impressed with its ancient capabilities; only delighted that he was actually still alive at the conclusion of the journey; given the murderous glances coming his way from everyone on board the vessel. Then he caught his first glimpse as they soared over the majestic buildings and lowered down into the body of the city. He had been so impressed at its size and highlighted features shining on their approach, that for once in his life, he was awe-struck into silence.
"You'll gather flies." Rodney spat towards him; the only words he had spoken his way their entire trip home; and although he didn't truly know what 'flies' were, he got the message. His closed his mouth and allowed two of their soldiers, as per Lorne's instructions, to grab an arm each and he was marched into what was obviously their leader's office – empty at present - and made to sit down in a chair opposite a large desk. Their leader obviously meeting up with the others first before the interrogation began. They would get nothing out of him though. His secrets were his to keep. His mission at present was only to make sure he returned to Mus'va'lan with this magnificent flying city, Knowing the way they loved and respected their missing team mates; somehow Santana thought they would at least attempt a covert option first before letting go of this impressive structure. But go to Sheppard and the others they would undoubtedly do so.
The beautiful interior surrounding him; even to the ceiling, caused his silence to remain as he had no words to fully sum up the beauty of where he now sat. He quickly looked at his two guards but they had eyes only for watching him in disgust. Santana shifted his large body in the leather seat and just stared ahead waiting on the next step. Mus'va'lan would surely have the supremacy she sought having this floating city operational with her commands: and using John Sheppard's ancient gene to boot – Santana could only imagine. Bringing her this would be a huge step in obtaining what he wanted from her. Perhaps, if things had been different, she might even had joined him in settling on a small planet somewhere again. But these days were well and truly gone – still, he had the thorny issue of convincing these people to move on towards the Hive quickly. She would not stay in one place for long. Years of trying to find her told him that.
But the more he knew these people the more Santana liked them – and that did not go hand in hand with what he was sent to do. Still. He had his own problems and dreams to deal with. Santana sighed, for now he would follow Mus'va'lan's orders, but he would see what he could also do to help these people survive the rescue mission and somehow get away alive after he fulfilled his goal. It was the least he could do. He could not guarantee they would be leaving with Atlantis though.
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Teyla rocked Torren backwards and forwards on her knee so slowly it was almost hypnotic for those who quietly watched. Occasionally Teyla would lift her head to sadly smile at Keller or Rodney, but she would not let go her child who seemed to understand just how much his mother needed him; as he held her tight and played with a long strand of her hair that was within his reach and realising all too much his father had not returned with them.
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Mus'va'lan remained seated in her chambers once she had dismissed everyone, the events replaying in her mind like the whipping winds she remembered from her decades ago. Blue was the colour of the bitter cold that came with them, she also remembered, so she took extra comfort from the warm hues that surrounded her now. It was not a nice thing to be that cold again. A Wraith's body did not do well with too low a temperature. She had had to make many adjustments in her life over the years.
Santana.
He was the bringer of the cold temperature that tried to wrap her in an icy embrace. The cloak of it reminded her of a time when things had been different, and it was tinged with the feelings of a world long ago she had strived hard to forget.
She had not set eyes on the man in time not counted. A forgotten time. A time in which he had not forcibly ever come to her mind again – and if it dared to start - it was quickly dismissed, or fall into a pit of danger that had previously caused her to doubt her previous decisions in life. She was too far gone now to consider anything other in life than war and dominance.
Santana, though.
Van'te'enna had come to her wearing a congenial expression so put on she had leant forward greedily wanting to know why without further delay. He had told her that Santana was requesting a private audience.
The jolt of his name spoken out loud after so long a time had stopped her next breath for a split second, before she swiftly recovered her composure in front of the other Wraith.
So! He had dared to come back to her, bringing with him the memories she had not thought of in an age. It was all she could do to not kill the man on sight so she didn't have to deal with the history that spun around him in a raging aura, visible only to her.
She had always known that Van'te'enna held a debt with Santana, but as he had been rejected for her new life, Mus'va'lan held little, or no interest in what it was. Bit by the way Van'te'enna had stood, visibly upset at his intrusion with her, this day could still change their relationship as well.
And yet, as it had turned out, Santana had had a plan. He had brought her John Sheppard when no-body else had been able to find him. But an exchange of gifts had been requested, and with Van'te'enna's favour, at last, being brought forth between them, Santana had been brought in to see her personally when no other being had been fortunate enough before. She understood that this had been an enormous thing for Van'te'enna to have had the gumption to initiate, and it was only because she trusted him that she had allowed him to reveal who the mystery caller had been.
The thing was, Van'te'enna knew who she was, not only now, but who she had been when wedded to Santana. When she had been human.
Would this be the day all her secrets finally came out? Mus'va'lan laughed to herself. It was about time she faced her enemy – the one who lived within her.
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A/N … There we have it, the first chapter is up. It is mostly written you will be pleased to hear!