Gates of Blood
Episode 1: Origin
Location: Pegasus Galaxy, Edowin System
Earth Year: 2013
I am sure that the average observer would conclude that the scientist's mumbling and muttering was not meant for anyone's ears except his own. However, in Dr. Radek Zelenka's personal, complicated world, technology, native or foreign, was perfectly capable of understanding, at least on some level, the spoken words, murmurings, and grumblings of any sentient beings who happened along.
"Behave, behave, you agreed to this; your processors may be quicker than mine, but I am far less stupid. I swear I'm not trying to pick a fight, just try to be a little understanding," he whispered.
A series of code glyphs scrambled around on the VDU as if impertinently laughing in protest.
"Oh, don't get suave with me, I want those frequencies leashed. Whether you like it or not," Zelenka murmured, his nose mere inches away from the screen. Vertical bluish and white lines scurried up the lenses of his glasses, giving him an eerie appearance. He pressed two buttons on the tablet held securely against his forearm, spun his chair thirty degrees and began typing away on a keypad like a professional maniac. Carefully written codes zipped up like a backwards waterfall. Zelenka pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "All right, all right, everything's in place." He held his hands palms outward. "Just…don't move."
"You doing all right over there?" drawled Colonel John Sheppard with feigned wariness.
"Ah." Zelenka turned and adjusted his glasses again. "Yeah, just peachy. Operational initiations are under way, but that beacon's taking her sweet old time to warm up to me. We're this close to connecting to Origin."
"So talk nicer to it," Sheppard said, shifting a little in the command chair.
"I have been. But you know how touchy this tech can be. One moment you think you've got a green light and the next, something flickers and loses focus. And then I lose focus." Zelenka turned back to the terminal. Coding rushed around and at last, the next sequence of signals was recognized and locked. The information conglomerated inside square, blue frames. "Could have been there sooner, but I'll take it over the cold shoulder treatment." Lifting his hands and letting the tablet fall to his lap, Zelenka rotated to face the bridge center again.
"I don't want to raise any hopes, but I think we're just about finished here." He got to his feet and moved over to the neighboring terminal.
"Regardless of circumstances, this wasn't supposed to be a rushed job," drawled Sheppard. "Iota's not going to jump into hyperspace."
"Now wouldn't that be a novel sight. And you know how I am on final laps," Zelenka said, running a hand through his hair.
"It's not going to happen any faster than it did the last three times we've been through this. You sound like McKay. Quick fix, zero cost."
Adjusting his glasses again, Zelenka peered at the colonel. "Ah, compliments are so rare. Even I start rushing a bit after sitting around for hours and hours at a time. Iota's taking a bit longer than Phu did. Blame the interference. Edowin has a lot of it. Iota will work. Question is…" Zelenka stared off into space. "Now I'm thinking of fireflies…and I've come to know why I always found fireflies so very interesting. I appreciate when things light up, and without all kinds of drama and anguish. They just…do. Their nature." He glanced at the tall, slender wraith seated nearby. "Getting anywhere, Bill?"
"Why did you expect any part of such an operation to go differently than it did before?" the wraith answered, his long, greenish fingers spread upon the control panel. "Your levels of stress are needlessly elevated."
Ignoring him, Zelenka stared expectantly up at the huge beacon diagram while tapping a stylus against his hand. The power levels in the core were warming up, indicated by slowly rising blue bars and rapidly changing numerals. "It's been too quiet in this freaky-looking system and right about now is usually when something stupid or terrifying happens. I'm trying to race that little chance to the finish line."
"Patience…all will be well." The wraith keyed around.
"You're one to talk," Zelenka muttered, walking over to him. "Oh, he who begged to accompany the team just to prove to me you could move things along quicker, sooner, and better."
"I do not recall ever saying such things."
"Well, you did, in a manner of speaking; it's called body language."
Bill's yellowish eyes scanned the readings while he studiously ignored his companion.
Zelenka's face suddenly lit up as the main terminal did. "Activation sequences completed, power is at full capacity, Iota's generating its very first long-range scanning sequence! The hive frequency sensors are fully operational, we can start snaring more wraith. There it goes! Oh, I could just kiss it." Zelenka grinned around at the displays.
"So long as it doesn't kiss back," Sheppard said drily.
"Ah ah ah...just hang in there," Zelenka murmured, ignoring Bill's annoyed glance. "Ahhh. Now guess what?"
"I'm sure if I bother to try, I'll lose," Sheppard said.
Turning around completely, Bill cut Zelenka off. "The S.E.D. is live. Unaffected wraith have not yet been detected. Trial transmissions have been conveyed to Origin and its return broadcast has already reached us. Beacon shields are at full capacity."
"Not bad," Sheppard said, staring out at the beacon hovering in the light of the greenish moon orbiting P71-223. The construction of Iota had lasted weeks, and the Cerberus arrived on schedule to see to the final installments and power it up. That in itself had taken forty-eight hours.
"No wraith yet detected," Zelenka muttered to the wraith. "Because it's only completed five-point two six percent of its sweep; so much for all your fancy talk about waiting to cross bridges."
"Some percentage is better than nothing at all." Bill smirked a little, his yellowish eyes sweeping back and forth as the information from the massive beacon hovering in outer space transmitted its findings to the battlecruiser.
"Have it your way. And in short," Zelenka said, turning to face the command center again, "We have successfully conjoined Iota and its Phu segment with Origin. I admit that we have yet to receive the remaining and final confirmations from the center, but Iota is one hundred percent operational. We can go home now." He stepped down off the terminal platform.
Some brief applause filled the bridge the way it had when the very first "single-enzyme detection" beacon had begun to glow with positive energy within the Lantean system, so many lightyears away from where the Cerberus was now situated.
The colonel smiled, bluish light in the semi-dimness rippling over his dark hair. "Nice to have all this smooth cooperation; if this were back in the old days, we'd all on edge waiting to get blasted or having to rig up a last-minute gadget to keep ourselves in this century." And to the inaudible wish from all personnel, he added, "We should reach Origin nearly on time."
"Yes, sir," the navigations officer responded enthusiastically.
"Some of us will be glad to get away from that moon," the colonel added, more to himself than to the bridge at large.
"You've just read my mind," Zelenka said, with a glance at the harsh, greenish light.
Sheppard smiled up at him. "Only one more beacon to go before enemy wraith find out this web is closed permanently. How time flies when we're having fun."
Zelenka stopped short. "You do realize that was almost a pun."
"So I'm a little rusty." Sheppard, wearing a contented expression, was still gazing at the beacon; Iota was shaped exactly like its five siblings scattered in other regions of the galaxy. A long, vertical shaft filled with lights lead up to a slightly diamond-shaped core a hundred feet wide, comprised of multiple levels. It needed no personnel to live on it at this time, but it could shelter a small crew; it was powered by control crystals and would be monitored by the external guardians assigned to it. Aqua lights glowed in sequences around the core. Far to the right loomed a massive hive ship, one of the organic wraith battlecruisers. It was member of the faction the Alliance wraith leaders had assigned specially to guard the Lantean beacons.
"And three more beads to install someplace out there in the great unknown." Zelenka broke into muttering Czechoslovakian. "Tohle je nejdelsi doba, kterou jsem kdy stravil hranim launch party." He pursed his lips a bit morosely.
"What was that?" Sheppard said.
"Hm. What?"
"What you just said."
"Nothing." Zelenka shrugged.
"It wasn't nothing." Sheppard looked up at him. "You're bored sick."
Zelenka smirked a little. "I didn't know you could understand Czech, sir."
"I don't. Your tone speaks volumes."
"All right. I admit I was basically commenting that this was such a boring party. And you feel the same, hm?"
"It's always boring until you get to see results like that," Sheppard said, nodding once toward the viewport. "Nice job, as usual. Same goes for you, Bill." Sheppard didn't often commend the wraith; so, when he did, one always knew he was being serious.
The wraith turned and bowed slightly.
Zelenka knew that some wraith were not easily flattered by human beings, but they did love being credited all the same.
Transmissions from the beacons to the Origin space-center did not have to be carried, strengthened, or accelerated through any means because the Lantean subspace transmission tech allowed coded frequencies to be sent across vast distances in addition to reading the energy from the open stargate on the planet below. Fail-safes held data crystals in case something should go wrong: transmissions were sent to what had been termed beads, as of beads on a string. They were little beacons, designated by Zelenka as X, Y, and Z, because they were "easy to remember," X situated the closest to the main beacon. They could detect wraith enzyme the same way the main beacons could. Dr. Rodney McKay and several brilliant Alliance wraith had collaborated on the designs and manufacture.
Zelenka stood by the command chair and folded his arms over his tablet. He certainly hadn't begged to be aboard this cruiser, he'd been assigned. Familiar with the Daedalus, he had felt quite at home on the Cerberus as well despite leaving Atlantis. McKay was probably foraging in peaceful acres and sunning himself on a random beach someplace on New Lantea instead of actually working nonstop at the Origin Epicenter. Zelenka was determined to question him and maybe even trade places.
A comm channel was opened, and Sheppard sat up straighter as the hive ship's commander appeared onscreen. "Colonel Sheppard," rumbled the wraith. Sheppard had not given this wraith a name yet, but he would have to soon enough. For now, the wraith was known as the Iota defender.
"All systems are go, as I'm sure you've picked up on by now. If you don't require any assistance, we'll be leaving Iota in your capable hands," Sheppard said.
"We can take things from here. Well done, Colonel Sheppard."
"Thanks. Good luck. The Cerberus should show up again in a few weeks on its patrol circuit."
"Very well." The commander nodded slightly, and the screen went blank.
His uniform insignia dully reflecting the glows, John Sheppard watched the beacon, the moon and the hive ship sail gently out of view as the Cerberus departed orbit and rotated her huge bulk toward deep space. Once the coordinates were locked, Sheppard gave the go-ahead. Millions of pinpricks pulled out into thin lines, while a widening light where they converged soared straight for the viewport. Once out of hyperspace, the Cerberus would be in communications range with the Daedalus near the center of the Beacon Star. The rendezvous had been scheduled for several weeks and this would be the first time in a while Sheppard would get to see Atlantis again.
He crossed one leg over the other, by way of a more comfortable position, and stared out the viewports that had beheld a fair share of laser fire and explosive scenery in the past year.
Several of his detailed personal logs following 2009 were with him on the Cerberus, others were locked away on Atlantis. And whilst the Cerberus is making its three-day trek toward a rendezvous with another battlecruiser of the same class, allow me to take you through the major events of the past three years:
Entry 2,041, written by John Sheppard
Year: 2010
Location: Lantea System, City of Atlantis
"I don't really fantasize a lot about how much harm an alternate reality can do, first of all because it's a generally confusing idea and secondly because I was once sucked into the past and I'd rather not ruminate about how weird that was. But the way things went a few days ago, I guess it's no use pretending that this stuff hardly ever happens. Defending Earth from a super-hive is a cinch compared to what we went through after leaving Earth. It's a wild story, so sit tight. For starters, Atlantis hung around in Frisco Bay for a few weeks. And we got to hang around for the first time in years.
True to its nature, the IOA got obnoxious and wanted Todd in its custody from day one for experimental purposes. Commander Woolsey informed his superiors that such an exchange would never happen, ever, and they tried to talk about rights and insist that in order to protect themselves further from the wraith, they needed a test subject for the expanse of their knowledge. It was kind of pathetic. Then they ordered him to hand Todd over. Woolsey refused, and only Colonel Carter's quick thinking and awesome negotiations saved Woolsey from being relieved of command.
The day Carl Strom wants to "expand his knowledge" on something for an actual reason that doesn't also include "to line our pockets" and messing around with things he doesn't quite understand, I'll keep a pet Iratus bug. Woolsey only gave Strom as much information as he dared and as was necessary, while in under five seconds Carson and I reached the unanimous decision to put Todd in stasis, partly to keep him alive and out of reach of the IOA until we could return him to the Pegasus Galaxy, and partly to keep ourselves from being turned into wraith chow. Todd saw things our way, but understandably, he wasn't all that enthusiastic either and took a lot of subtle pains to remind us that he'd saved the city and expected us to let him go free at the first opportunity. Freeing him was a given at that point after what he did for us, so, no one felt pressured to make deals. But I was kind of tempted to leave him in suspense about whether or not we'd actually ever get back to Pegasus.
He didn't put up as much resistance as when he'd last objected to being in Lantean custody under our terms. Predictably, he insisted on being put in stasis attired in his original wraith armor although he knew that we weren't going to be able to fit him in our stasis pod that way. Gave Beckett a few laughs. Anyhow, after Atlantis took off into hyperspace with Beckett operating the Chair, we had to wake Todd in a hurry because we suddenly found ourselves suspended between our reality and the alter one that had given us cause to race back to Earth in the first place. We couldn't move the city, and besides the puzzle of trying to figure out what caused the glitch in hyperspace, a nasty attack from a random hive fleet was holding our attention.
Communications were eventually established between Atlantis and the mothership, and who should we see over the transmission screen but yours truly, an alter-ego-version of Todd, demanding our surrender. We apprised the our-reality Todd of the situation and introduced him to the other Todd. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I really looked forward to seeing his reaction; but he must have known I was hopeful. Todd only twitched a little bit and then proceeded to try negotiating with his other self. I thought that might go well for all of us. It didn't.
Either out of an earnest desire to be helpful or because he wasn't thinking clearly, Woolsey informed Todd that he probably just didn't know himself. I never saw Todd look so mad as he did then, but he kept cool and then asked if Woolsey had ever considered telepathic therapy, implying that our commander seemed unable to grasp the concept of tact. Woolsey clued in to the insult all right, but there was no point in his responding. We had a situation on our hands.
Todd was still in his prison garb when we escorted him to the bridge, but at his request Beckett gave him back his original armor while we tried to finish figuring out what we were supposed to do about getting back to Pegasus. McKay and Zelenka pitched a few fits uncovering the fact that our passage through hyperspace had glitched due to the signal from the alter-reality's interference from the open pocket in space-time, and some crappy anomaly had created a rift. They suggested that if we killed the alter-reality Todd and blew up the hives at the right moment after dialing Pegasus, with someone using the Chair, the rift could be mended by the energy surge, and we would be ricocheted back to where we belonged. There were a thousand trajectories to choose from. McKay figured the only way for the first part to work was if our reality Todd killed his other self in the rift. It was a really dangerous idea; Todd wasn't sure he'd make it out or even see a future, but we promised to do what we could to prevent a problem. It was very simple: if he did nothing, we would all be blasted or crushed, lost to time and space, and the other Todd might make it to earth. Naturally our-reality Todd was willing to try anything to at least save his own neck.
Long story short, he took off with a fighter squadron and a hijack team which included me. He entered the mothership, took over the bridge, and ended up in a brutal fight with the other Todd while we started seeding some of the hives with explosives, attempting to neutralize them with the fighters and with the city. Woolsey watched the wraith battle over transmission; at first, he thought Todd was going to feed on the other Todd, but our wraith ally didn't dare take the risk of sucking energy from another reality's being. Don't know what would have happened if he had. Todd broke the other Todd's neck eventually, set the coordinates in the direction of the rift boundary, set the mothership to self-destruct, and took off.
Pretty tense moment: we all had to reach Atlantis before the timing of the dialing and the detonations merged. Beckett gave the Chair everything he had. Needless to say, somehow it all worked out in the end, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this. I have to admit it was pretty satisfying to see Todd actually sweating and petrified for once. It made up for a lot of the past transgressions I had to put up with.
After we got back to Pegasus, obviously we let him go. I even bothered to shake his hand, and he added a comment along the lines of "it would be wonderful to sometime have you all for dinner." Oddly enough, we accepted. The fruit surplus he'd stolen from the Athosians wasn't bad. We found out about the thievery after we'd eaten. Big surprise.
I told him that wasn't ok. Todd's obnoxious response? "I pulled it off a common tree, Sheppard. It offered no objections, therefore neither should you."
I gave up and refrained from adding that I have nothing in common with trees.
2011
Athosian System, the Daedalus
"Things stayed pretty quiet for about six months after we settled for a short time back on the original Lantea and began talking to the Athosians about more relocations; off-world missions resumed as usual, and the peace was too good to last.
Todd suddenly showed up to inform us he had been attacked and his own hive had been decimated. I don't know how he manages to get himself into so many jams. This time, things were a lot more serious than anything we'd dealt with before. A mythical Primary, who's wraith name translates as "Death", or "deadly", the ultimate and ancient queen of the wraith who had been whispered about for eons, was actually no myth; she'd materialized, intending to seize Atlantis, wipe out life forms in various systems to control the wraith, and then rule Pegasus forever. As Woolsey put it, "Cliché. There's one in every galaxy, isn't there?"
Todd had never spoken of Death, and he said that it was only in recent years that he was assured she was most certainly real, but he had no reason to seriously consider that she'd actually show her face. Well, we went after her in order to save the human race, and Todd finally succeeded in tracking down Death's physical location. Naturally, he needed all our help to do it.
Long story short, Todd, Ronan, and I set out in a hive and boarded Death's mothership. I didn't like it, but our best chance was to hands-on take her alive or take her out. Atlantis kept her fleet busy, and Caldwell plowed into darts and got the Daedalus pretty beat up. Teyla stayed behind on another hive because we insisted, but she was needed to shield Todd's mind from Death's own and provided telepathic distractions; she did that just fine from a neighboring hive. Todd promised to work with her. Mentally, and for a male wraith, he's pretty powerful.
Death's defeat could not have been accomplished without the combination of their concentrated mental powers, my P-90, and Ronan's burning Death through several times with staff weapons. I kind of like his style better even though it doesn't always work. You know those wraith that just won't die? Well, Death was one of them. We'd anticipated that, but this female was way the heck trashier than what we'd planned for. I told Todd he must be mad to have thought he could take her on. Teyla and some of Todd's subordinates kept Ronan and I from completely succumbing to the mind control, but we did have our moments where I thought we were swimming in darkness and couldn't hold onto our weapons.
Todd's wraith army smashed its way into the hive and neutralized the bridge, took out a large part of the crew, and kept us from being attacked from the outside.
But time was running short because the hives were all firing on one another. All three of us found ourselves in a hand-to-hand combat with Death. She was no ordinary female; besides being the ugliest thing I ever saw in my life, she was a lot like a serpent. She not only could move and strike like one, but her illusionary powers were incredible. Todd got himself seriously beat up and mind-slammed, finally gained some control because Teyla's best efforts gave him a window, and that's when he resorted to total violence with his hands locked around Death's head, trying to crush it. We found out pretty quickly that Death did more than just feed. She had this really lovely habit of biting.
Ronan and I both got our arms and hands chomped while we baited her so Todd could get a clear shot at her, and he used her own method in the end. It was pretty disgusting. She snapped at his throat with her long fangs, and he dodged, launching himself like a dart ship, and snared her by the side of the neck. Heck, I never supposed his teeth were decorations, but it came as a surprise that he could bite just as well as Death could.
Ronan and I had never actually witnessed wraith in a full-blown, weaponless battle to the death; no joke intended. We got the whole show and then some. And here is where things took a unique turn. Todd finally managed to feed on her, but - and I quote him - his "disgust at the taste of her incredible depravity" actually made him lose his grip and Ronan got in the way, whacking at Death's brainstem and feeding arm with a sword some of the wraith-kin had discovered in the Athosian ruins. Ronan's been lugging it around ever since it was given to him by Halling. At the time he attacked Death, I was pretty much incapacitated on the ground and thinking to myself, "That has to kill her. If it doesn't, I don't know what will, besides blowing up this hive with both her and us on it."
"I thought Ronan's method was a great way to send her off. I killed my first wraith, a keeper, with a blade. Seems pretty cool that the same type of weapon finished off Death herself.
"So ended the Primary and ever since then, Ronan has felt repaid somewhat for everything the wraith did to him and to his planet.
"The bite marks on our arms and hands vanished when Todd restored us. Death's teeth were in fact very venomous, that's part of what made Todd release her. But despite the gift of life, I swear I can feel scars on my arms even though there aren't any showing. Ronan says the same thing sometimes. It's weird. Some things just leave a big impression.
"I think there's still something Todd isn't telling us. Following their initial, telepathic confrontation, Death spat one word at him for us to hear: "Phroditerzo." The translation is "traitor", McKay says. According to Teyla, Death didn't know Todd at all, but then she must have learned something about his identity. He's never elaborated about how or why, even when we asked him like fifty times. Teyla has no ideas either since she was cut off multiple times and eventually ended up passing out. After Ronan chopped up Death, Todd calmly got to his feet like an experienced lion, his teeth all black with blood…and then he ripped at his own hand, as if he hated the fact that Death's blood was on it. He turned into a snarling animal and spat before wiping the stuff on the wall. I get that he was still in the throes of battle adrenaline and that Death tasted bad and all that, but there's something Todd's not telling us. I promise. I'm guessing he was in some sort of pain…but why, and why to such an extent? No one has ever been able to worm that secret out of him.
Not even Woolsey's subtle bribery worked. I could have told him it wouldn't. Hey, Todd prefers to continue making us nervous. What would he ever do without that calling card?
2012
Atlantis
"One of our excellent med-scientists, Ritha Guider, is one of the City's members who did not inherit the Ancient gene, but she responded well to the ATA. She hasn't had to awaken any tech and is known for feeling more of a connection to wraith biotech than the Lantean. We're still in the middle of this war with Death's leftover forces. Out of the blue, around the beginning of last year, Ritha proposed the fundamentals for a brand-new retrovirus. Keller finally gave up on the gene therapy, and started accompanying Rodney on missions, as lead med assistant to mass immigrations and planetary inhabitants affected by Death. She still works in the field. Carson is now back where he used to be. Or should I say, where he belongs. It's really good to have him on the team again.
This new virus of Ritha's design is supposedly going to allow humans to survive the feeding process while still giving the wraith what they need to live. To be honest, it seems a little weird to me to consider that this could actually work. I don't hope too much, but I really want to hope for the best at the same time.
Ritha is a good friend of Ronan's and learns a lot of Bantos sparring. Some say she's a little eccentric, and I kind of see why, but who cares, she's good. I just didn't think that a breakthrough so huge would come out of her long studies of the wraith. Keller's mentioned a few times that Ritha is one of those detail-oriented scientists that can't resist questioning everything, even the impossible. Ritha's fixation on the Gift of Life being the key to a workable virus is unwavering, and Beckett informed us recently that she's onto something. In order for the virus to succeed, both races will have to work together. I want to believe that. It makes a lot of sense.
Beckett and Ritha are currently writing a base code they termed Vytrin. They're keeping Keller informed, and she's wanting to come around at some point to watch the demonstrations. She's currently working on disease overrides and lived underground with wraith-kin on P8L-223 for a time in order to escape Death's detection; Rodney nearly went insane.
2013 - Post Death-War
Atlantis
"What a time of it we've had. Let me rephrase that. Who's had a better time, us or the wraith? Not sure. I'm still getting used to everything that's going on. The results of the retrovirus have been so flawless that Woolsey arranged to have it transported in an organized fashion throughout the galaxy. One part of the virus is for the humans; Caldwell, McKay and I are overseeing its distribution. Woolsey, Todd and I came up with a beacon system, and worked it out in the shape of a somewhat lop-sided, hexagonal-shaped star, joining the Lantean, Asuran, Edowin, Doranda, Athosian, and M2S-445 systems. The beacons are powered by Athosian and wraith-tech cores crafted in imitation of ZPMs, but the energy source is obviously different. They've been designated Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Iota, Phu, and Zeta. These points, four of them placed near a significant planet with a stargate, are joined by chains of other beacons; Zelenka likes calling them beads and the name stuck; their purposes are to mark and track the progress of the wraith virus, and to alert Atlantis if any unaffected wraith and ships come within a certain distance of the Points. In the case of the Asuran and Doranda systems, which were pretty much destroyed, obviously there are no gates around, but the presence of deep space beacons are all the more important in those areas. Good places to hang out for anyone who doesn't want to be found.
"The segments that create the six inner web strands are joined at a common point, Origin, a space center designed by McKay and constructed in the orbit of the New Lantea planet that we traveled to back in 2007 while hiding from the Asurans.
"The SGC released to us another DSC-304 battlecruiser designated the Cerberus in order to assist with the construction and defense of the Beacon network, and defense during involvement with unaffected wraith. And yes, it's got a connected ZPM.
"The IOA was grudgingly accepting of Woolsey's cryptic "not to sound cliché, but" update about the races working together for the good of the whole galaxy. He withheld a comment that the IOA can never hope to control the fates of two entire galaxies; their ambitions are kind of absurd. Strom is all the more at odds with Woolsey since the commander refuses to allow him possession of any altered wraith for research purposes. Woolsey informed Todd of this, partly owing to the fact that the former was almost removed from command again for his continued and clever obstinacy.
"Todd had himself another laugh, albeit dark and dangerous: "Your IOA would most certainly find themselves products of experimentation, Mr. Woolsey…the drastic improvement of their appearances would be a foreseeable and…entertaining side-effect."
(This memory drew an involuntary smirk even from John Sheppard.)
"It wasn't long after my promotion from Lieutenant Colonel to Colonel that the Alliance factions were briefed on the virus operations since it had finally proven successful in a hive ship and demonstrated on multiple wraith. A new treaty was established and read aloud over comm systems by Richard Woolsey the day that Atlantis willingly flew amidst a fleet of hive motherships. Todd had immediately shouldered the task of injecting the hives. One after another, the wraith, true to their nature, are spreading the virus like wildfire. Part of our mutual agreement is that wraith will never feed on anyone who is unaffected by Vytrin 1.
"The first humans to publicly feed a wraith were Teyla and myself. I only agreed to being fed on again because I figured it would have to happen eventually and because, well, I had to set the example for a lot of people and show them there was nothing to be afraid of. Ever since then, I've hardly ever allowed a wraith to feed on me. I'm just not a fan of the process. It's still a little weird and it takes time for a human to "recharge" afterwards. Ritha had a long talk with me about an energizing solution, but to this day, she and Beckett are unsuccessful at it. They've already leaped the boundaries of feeding physiology, and further alterations might have to wait for now, because of the enormous physical and cultural changes that the wraith are undergoing. Not all wraith are accepting of the fact that they will no longer need to cull. It's part of why we established the network. The wraith outside the Alliance actually need support from the Vytrin II wraith. How each wraith and faction will react to the alterations is sketchy, the Alliance has to take it one step at a time. But Caldwell and I aren't having any problems; our fellow humans throughout the galaxy can't wait to be given Vytrin I.
...
"Colonel, the Daedalus is in communications range", calls us and John Sheppard back to three days after the Cerberus' departure from the Edowin system.
A welcome light through the Cerberus' viewports, Origin shone in the distance, looking like an irregular moon in permanent, love-struck pursuit of the natural satellite that orbited New Lantea. It was a spectacularly built station and the excellent design seemed to make up for the loss of the Midway that McKay had once so lovingly constructed.
"Colonel," came Caldwell's calm greeting. "How did operations fare in Edowin?"
"Iota lit up just fine," Sheppard said. "Took a little longer than we hoped, but we didn't run into unnecessary conflicts. Edowin is quiet right now for the most part, the Alliance scrubbed it pretty clean."
"So I've heard. The Doranda fringe is secured, all three beads fully operational. We had a little trouble with a band of well-armed, rogue worshipers along the way; I regret to inform you we were forced to put an end to their misery."
"Great," Sheppard commented. "To the City they go."
"We caught forty-seven. Forty-seven. Proved very annoying, to say the least, these guys were raving. Can't say I'll miss this job," Caldwell said.
"You won't miss it," Sheppard assured him. "Patrolling is needed for as long as the wraith scattering to the Asuras system remain largely unaffected. The Alliance still has a lot of ground to cover. I won't be seeing you on Atlantis, we can't go back until you've been."
"Right," Caldwell said. "Anything you'd like me to do while I'm there?"
"Would you please let Teyla know personally the Cerberus is safe?"
"Will do, Colonel. And well done. Three more segments to go."
"Getting there. Well done, yourself."
Communication was cut and Sheppard looked around at the crew. "We'll be getting a bit of much-needed rest on Origin, then it's off to the dual moons of ML7-120 for the linking of the Gamma segment once McKay gives us the go-ahead."
Zelenka looked less disinterested only for a moment. Leaning his cheek on his fist, he turned to Bill again. "Please tell me you're bored by now. It would give me such great joy. Perhaps it would even help me to build more enthusiasm."
"I have never understood what "boring" is," the wraith lied, still typing away on his data screen. His long white hair was expertly tied back, not one strand out of place.
"I thought you'd have learned the definition by now," Zelenka prodded grouchily.
Bill growled softly. "Our stamina is greatly improved since the virus took effect. For someone whose job it is to pay attention to details, you seem rather out of commission."
Zelenka clenched his jaw a little. "I'm not clumsy, and I can tell you're fibbing. You're just as ready to finish this mission as the rest of us are. I could use some new stamina right about now. As a matter of fact, I'm off to get some well-deserved shut-eye. Unlike yourself, I actually do spend time relaxing."
"Be my guest," the wraith said robotically, insectoid eyes still roving over the flickering screens.
"I beg you won't accidentally touch any red buttons. All we need is for one little thing to go off-kilter and then we'll have to rush back to Iota, and that's definitely not on my priority list of things to do," Zelenka said, gathering his work items.
Bill looked up, the tips of his pale teeth showing a little. "I do not see any red buttons nearby, so…never fear. Or are you simply irritated that I am able to remain in control here for much longer than you are?"
Zelenka stared owlishly as he hefted his tablets under one arm, and muttered, "Keep your shirt on, I was only kidding." And with that, he hurried off the bridge as if scared Sheppard would order him to stay and maintain the bridge.
The newest update in Sheppard's personal data logs was something only Woolsey would overlook:
"Living in the Edowin system isn't all that cool. Anyone wants to argue, they can come and see for themselves. The place gives me occasional temptations to take a joy ride in a fighter."
There were no puddle-jumper missions, no dashing through wormholes, and no sparring with Ronan; not to mention, the wraith outside the Alliance were surprisingly unresistant now that Todd had claimed so many factions. There were no bugs to kill.
Sheppard did not mind the absence of their predacious attacks, but he still missed the satisfying weight of a P-90 on his arm and some days he would have preferred stout gear to his naval uniform. Ronan, on a recent break from tracking down runners to be freed and added to the growing base of allies, was probably enjoying a nice time with the Athosians, but Sheppard wasn't sure if the former runner was as yet fully accepting of the altered wraith that were working alongside him. Sheppard had grown accustomed to Bill, and they had engaged in many an interesting conversation; Bill was very much a youthful version of a wraith, and his keenness wore even Zelenka out. The wraith remained an irreplaceable member of the Beacon project, and naturally, Sheppard had given him a name that was easy for everyone to remember. The few wraith he knew personally were quietly accepting of human designations and that suited the colonel just fine.
Only two days ago, Sheppard had spoken with Todd for the first time in weeks when the wraith's lead hive had come within communications range at a designated point in the Edowin system in order to recover after hyperspace travel. Altered by the incredible retrovirus, injected hives were pearlier, appearing less like bony, oozing, tendon-filled, purple spiders' nests. Now they gleamed, somewhat like the rare, iridescent beetles that could be found in southern continents back on Earth.
"Johhhn Sheppaaarr-D," the wraith's deep, multi-toned voice rumbled. Todd did not address Sheppard by his military rank any more than Sheppard would bother to say, "Greetings, commander." Todd somehow looked less battle-worn; he seemed sprightlier and keener. The virus had done nothing for his hair, which was somehow wilder than ever. "Sooo, you have not yet managed to lose your way in this incredible network? I am impressed."
"I wasn't about to say it's good to see you too, but then again, maybe I am, since I'm still keeping an eye on your progress," Sheppard said, a little sarcastically. "So far, you get an A."
"The fringes of the Asuran system are faring as we speak."
"Is Gamma operating?"
"I should hope it is, Sheppard."
"Just in case "faring" only meant 'nothing was blown up'."
Todd smirked. "And you, have you made progress? The kind we spoke of last time?"
Sheppard grimaced a little. "Knew you'd get around to that. Ok. I admit it. I allowed myself to be fed on recently by a starving wraith, some wanderer we ran into on an Edowin moon. We had a conversation, made him wait a few hours after the injection of Vytrin II of course, and then gave him permission to feed. I had to take a day off." Sheppard fingered his collarbone a moment. "Heck, I've had worse."
"You will grow accustomed to the Vytrin not working as swiftly as the Gift of Life does," Todd said. "Still, you have grown braver. To say the least."
"Some of us have slightly different ideas about what bravery means," Sheppard said. "Where are you headed?"
"To Athos, after following up in the Zeta segment. I have supplied several more hives, including a mothership, to the fringe of Asuras. They will make contact as soon as they have snared a new party for injection and begin the process immediately. The worshiper migrations from Edowin are enormous. I have been kept very busy."
Sheppard nodded. "Things are going a lot better than expected. But I'm not gonna be getting comfortable any time soon."
"The conflict is far from over."
"Woolsey mentioned he would contact you about securing old Lantea."
"He did. And in addition, a couple hundred very old worshipers have been culled and sent to Atlantis in select groups; their recovery is slow, but they too will survive as long as there are affected wraith around to heal them," Todd said. "This group seems to require larger doses of Vytrin than the average worshiper does. Mr. Woolsey solicited my help in fully locking down the Lantean system, and I will be on its perimeter again later on. The worshipers traveling from Edowin will follow wherever the wraith go, and we hope to head them off at Iraxilla itself. In their desperation for the enzymes, the Iratus call to them. Originally, I supposed it might be simpler to allow the worshipers to be bitten, and then inject the Vytrin, but I'm not sure they would appreciate being turned into wraith."
"Good thinking," Sheppard said drily.
Todd had a predilection for quick and lazy solutions sometimes as much as he did Plan B's and C's. "The faster we finish etching the network across this part of the galaxy, the sooner we can return to our territories and… unpretentious existences. I look forward to the conjoining of the remaining segments."
"Spinning snares is your sharpest instinct," Sheppard said carelessly. "It's nice that we get a turn for once."
"How are you enjoying the wraith side of life?"
Sheppard winced a little. "I'm just appreciating the human side of whatever I can get out of this mission."
"H-h-h." Todd laughed a little without moving his lips, but the smirk showed over the rest of his greenish face. "Well, you will hear from me later on, Sheppaarrr-D. Stay out of trouble."
"Well, look who's talking. And you needn't concern yourself, all right?"
"Very well."
Sheppard's return grimace, somewhere between a wince and a smirk, was well-honed.
Fast forward to the present and Sheppard was currently thinking that he could devote the next twenty-four hours to sleep and research. In fact, he had just gotten started. When the doors to his quarters slid shut behind him, it was like having a noisy radio cut off. Sheppard collapsed onto his cot and laced his fingers behind his head.
The Cerberus and the Daedalus served as both the transports and guardians of the beacon launch that took place over pre-designated moons and space coordinates in addition to four select, stargate planets. The checklist, needless to say, was extremely detailed, and spanned twelve systems. The Asuras and Doranda systems were the most promising connections since they had been destroyed in the past, and were good places for fleeing wraith-worshipers and their masters to seek temporary shelter. The Alliance hives would be on top of them in no time with Vytrin II. Some factions resisted, but eventually, the injections took place once Todd talked the wraith into submitting. Sheppard reflected that at least Todd's talents were being used for something besides toying with allies.
Mapping the conquered territories over a third of the explored galaxy had been no small feat and required several of Todd's top subordinates as well as the combined skills of McKay and Zelenka. The beacons were managed mainly by the wraith and the Lanteans for the time being, but the Athosians certainly had just as much claim. It was all three groups' combined technological abilities that had turned out the prototypes and forged the network. The Athosians relied on the Alpha beacon, for it was their warning system in case of unaffected wraith infiltrations. But usually, Origin snared such wraith beforehand, so the Athosians lived in general peace.
Zelenka once tastelessly commented that the wraith and Lantean battlecruisers could be thought as of the new racial abdomens, depositing the eggs of a future, stronger Alliance. In the aftermath of Death's horrifying human experiments, certain wraith including Todd, and Ritha Guider and Teyla had been the only personnel to appreciate the poetry of that classic "Zelenka-style" wisdom. Reactions from those less inclined included Ronan's face-palming and Woolsey's hesitant, "Um…yes, well…ahem."
Sheppard scrolled around on his tablet and opened up a transmission relayed to him a few days prior. He had sought its secret comfort several times.
"Colonel Sheppard," Teyla's steady tones spoke. "Mr. Woolsey says you're coming home soon. I'm relieved to hear that the missions have gone so well. The worshipers are recovering and slowly but surely joining forces with Ronan's troops. You already know the Athosian army has grown a great deal in the recent months, but I have even better news. They are ready to launch their first fleet, led proudly by Halling, no less. Jinto and Torren are not without mishaps as they learn to use more advanced blaster weaponry. Ronan reports he has less luck with them than he does with the runners." The amusement faded from her voice. "We all miss you. Good luck with the Iota launch; please return to us safely. The Athosians send their greetings."
Teyla usually sounded a bit more professional over a transmitted message than she did in person; this time she also sounded as though she were holding back a great deal of exciting information. The Athosians had learned to employ wraith biotech on a unique level in addition to their own never-before-seen designs and technological advancements. Sheppard had only had a look at the trial products; it sounded like Teyla was impressed with the final outcomes. And she'd better be. All that Halling and the kin and the wraith brethren had put into the designs and gathering of materials had cost a great deal of labor.
The Athosians' aptitude for artistic renderings of many types of flying machines combined with the insectoid designs had turned out formidable, wildly beautiful, and sleek crafts. Sheppard hoped to see the fleet for himself before too much longer and could only imagine how impressive it would look once it launched.
As he drifted off into sleep, the memory of darts whining through atmospheres melded into intermittent dreams, and a vast shower of silver arrows, like a backwards-flowing waterfall, traversed the stars and flung itself into the hull of a black hive ship. "Anyone who doesn't want to go through the Stargate is whacked," said General O'Neill's voice from a long distance away, echo upon echo dying out.
When Sheppard awoke with a jolt hours later, he could not quite remember what he had seen, but he did remember the voice. He had come a long way.
Now he could not imagine what it would be like to live without the gates. In fact, he was starting to realize that life would sort of strange without the wraith around. Sheppard sat there, running his fingers through his tousled hair, his mind traversing memories of his years of expeditions. "General, I would also love to tell you that anyone who thinks the wraith are cool is whacked," Sheppard muttered. But he sensed deep within himself that such words were now only been a half-truth.