The Fall

by Wedjatqi

ALLIANCE FIC – 2 weeks after the events of 'Interlude 4' and Atlantis continues to search for Janus' secret lab; Teyla, still feeling slightly unwell, is aboard the Sythus on its way to hunt down the elusive Skerti out beyond the Alliance border. And in the Training Facility, Oneakka continues his recovery while struggling with new developments regarding Seeal.

44. Act 2 - Nightmares

Warning Alert for this chapter: Passing references to suicidal thoughts and warfare.

Note: Unfortunately, this story was ready to be posted before now, but due to yet another issue with this website, many of us haven't been able to upload documents to the website. Therefore, I've had to try this via the app, which has taken SO much extra editing time!! So huge apologies if any of this chapter looks different re formatting to usual standard. I fear I may be losing patience with this website.

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ACT 2 – TRUTH

Chapter 44 – Nightmares

"ALL HANDS BRACE. EMERGENCY ATMOSPHERE FALL PROTOCOL ENACTED."

Saoka's Station's overly loud announcement screamed painfully against Seeal's eardrums. Swearing at the intensity of it, she stumbled against the edge of Saoka's massive desk, everything violently shaking around her, things falling off shelves and out of cupboards. For some Wraith-shitting reason, the emergency lighting was constantly flashing on and off, casting Saoka's office with an annoying strobe light effect, making it difficult to judge distances with all the shaking.

"ALL HANDS BRACE. EMERGENCY ATMOSPHERE FALL PROTOCOL ENACTED," the voice shouted again as Seeal managed to stagger around the corner of Saoka's desk, reaching out, almost blindly in the flashing low light, towards the back of Nanuet's smart suit. But, she missed as Nanuet shoved and dragged Saoka away from his desk, intent on getting his boss to the safety seats at the far end of the office. Stumbling forward, Seeal tried desperately again to grasp the flapping tails of Nanuet's wide jacket, but missed again, the floor shaking so violently now that she lost her footing in a panicked split second.

"GET TO EMERGENCY STATIONS AND BRACE FOR ATMOSPHERE ENTRY."

Her knees hit the thick-piled carpet in a painful rush, the impact slamming up through her hands, jarring her entire body in the flashing loud mess.

Even through the expensively lush office carpet, she could feel the deck vibrating violently, and it was a horrifically prolonged struggle just to get her feet back under her. Managing an awkward crawl forward, pushing with her toes but gripping the shaking thick carpet with both hands, she started a horizontal climb across the office.

Everything was rattling so hard that she could feel her eyeballs vibrating in her skull, and it felt like her joints were going to break apart at any second, ligaments and tendons all that was holding her together.

Looking up, her jaw juddering, she saw that Nanuet, Saoka and their Security team were already at the far end of the room, already strapping themselves into the safety seats.

She needed to get there fast, get to safety...

"GET TO EMERGENCY STATIONS AND BRACE FOR ATMOSPHERE ENTRY."

Scrabbling forward, she managed to stagger upright enough to try to run, but abruptly the floor began to angle sharply to the left, and everything in the office that hadn't been bolted down was suddenly flying at her.

Cushions, teacups, bottles, and other unidentifiable hard and annoying objects crashed around and into her as she tried desperately to outrun the tilt, but it wasn't working, the safety seats were too far away...

But the sofa...Saoka's office sofa was off to the right, it's fabric outer layer flapping around, its cushions lost, but she co uld see the sofa was bolted down and had a thick metal skeleton.

With a desperate last reach, she got her hands around the metal bar of the sofa's back just as the floor disappeared from under her...

Leaving her with nothing below but the gaping empty hole in the side of the Sythus, the former remains of the ship's tattered blown-apart rooms falling down around her. There was only the thick metal doorframe for her to hold onto, even its door gone, the walls around it gone, leaving just empty air around her as she flailed with nothing below her.

Except the damn Slug Robot.

She could feel it tugging on her leg, putting even more strain on her hands, her knuckles turning shocking white above her as the thing started to climb up her.

It was too strong and the fast-moving decompressing air around her was shoving at her so hard; her oxygen mask already dislodged from her face.

Soon she would have no air, and no grip.

She hung her head back, looking up through the blown apart rooms above her, looking for help, for salvation to arrive.

But Saoka's office window above her was now filled with the flames of the BreakAway meeting the planet's atmosphere. The air outside was on fire and she was falling, unsupported, unaided, clinging to a sofa! Nothing but fire and ice tumbling around her as she clung desperately onto the Guardian Tree's massive branch. She'd climbed far too high, stupidly further than ever before, but she'd been so desperate to get up and away from everything and everyone. So she'd kept climbing, higher and higher, the air growing colder and colder, until everything around her, bark, leaves and branches, were coated in thick ice. Up here, the Glisi forest canopy was so much thinner, the Guardian trees standing higher and more sparsely leafed than the small denser trees. Up here, she could see the snow falling over the treetops.

And the air was far too cold up here. Her breathing a struggle even through her face-covering, and she could feel the icy chill leaching in through every stitch of her pelts and coat layers.

She was too high and there was so far to fall.

Peering over the edge of her arm hugging around the big branch, she could barely see the ground and the big snowdrifts at the base of the trees. There were branches between her and the fall, but all of them icy, bare of leaves in the mid-winter frosts.

She could feel her grip loosening; her body's heat, even through thick Glisi pelts, was faintly melting the top layers of the thick icy coating across the bark. 'Slippery ice'; Father had warned her about it. All Glisi knew every type and state of ice and snow. She knew 'slippery ice' was particularly deadly, preventing good grip and too easily refrozen with your clothes or flesh caught in it.

And she could feel the layer of melt under her, feel that her front, arms and legs wrapped around the big branch were losing traction with every passing second.

There was nothing she could do.

Panic was ice cold in her veins as she panted hard in the harsh silence of the falling snow. She tried to hug her little arms and legs tighter around the branch, but her muscles were weak, fatigued, and she felt herself starting to slip.

Whimpering, she tried to hold on tighter, but it was like a giant hand began to simply brush her off the branch.

Slipping round on the big branch, the forest began to tilt and flip, and then the moment came and she felt herself separating from the giant tree.

Her stomach lurched the instant she began to fall, ice and fire around her, Saoka's office things falling among the snow around her as she screamed, reaching blindly up towards the doorframe, for Oneakka's grip, for something-

Seeal woke in a sharp cold instant into complete darkness, the nightmare melting away, but leaving nothing to replace it.

Where was she?

She reached quickly up to her pillow, seeking out the edge of the stunner always there, but she found nothing. Where was it?! Had someone broken into her Dream quarters, was she under attack?

She turned, scrabbling around blindly in the darkness to find her weapon, to find something to use, but reality was starting to crystallise.

She wasn't on Dream, wasn't in the underground cold of Creass' Lalwani base either. She had left him and his organisation.

Was she still in the tunnels?

She pushed herself upright, looking up into the darkness above her to see if Wraith were about to drop in, but no...no, she'd gotten off Saoka's stupid sucky planet.

She was on Pelydr. That was right. She was safe.

She let out a long panting breath and realised she could see two thin faint lines of light cutting through the darkness across the ceiling: the top of the cabin's closed door. She crawled forward, struggling her legs out from unfamiliar bedding, and reached out with one arm straight ahead of her, unsure of the distance between her and the cabin's door in the dark. Her fingers finally met the warmth of the wooden door and she flattened her palm against it, sliding her hand one way and then the other, seeking out where she was on the door, where was the latch? How did it open again?

Her hand finally caught against the hard line of the metal handle and she gripped it tightly, jiggling it around until the latch lifted and she could push the door open away from her.

Night air and pale moonlight rushed in around her, smelling of forest trees and crisp grass in the night. She drank in big lungfuls of the air; natural, planetary air; not recycled on a space station, ship or even the Facility. Fresh, real air. And warm air, no frost sharp against her nose.

Though, as she pushed the door open further, the beautiful sight of the massive mountains came into view, their snow-caps glowing in the moonlight. The snow was way up there, so that was okay. It was warm down here.

She was safe.

Crawling forward over the threshold of the doorway, she swung her legs round to sit on the top step of the stairs up to the cabin door. The wood felt comfortingly warm under her backside and against her bare feet she set them on the step below.

It was warm and safe here.

In the distance, she could hear some night birds chirping and could feel the strange awareness of open space around the cabin as she gazed up at the night sky full of stars. Two crescent moons shone above the glowing mountains and she drew in another deep breath of the warm comforting air.

It couldn't be further from the Glisi world or Saoka's sucky planet.

But it was like the nightmare had left a frosty shadow hovering behind her. She glanced anxiously over her shoulder, knowing there was nothing there to harm her, but she couldn't stop herself from peering back into the darkness of her cabin, just in case. The moonlight cast her own shadow long and narrow across the tangled bedding, but there was nothing to be afraid of in there.

Just old memories.

She spied the folded up shape of her Bakhau blanket that she'd left just inside the cabin's door. She reached for it, desperate to wrap something around herself against the echoing cold shadows of the nightmare. She wrapped the fabric around her shoulders, hugging the ends across her chest, the material warm and reassuring.

She was fine. She was on Pelydr and everything she'd dreamt had been in the past.

She was safe.

And warm.

Looking back out at the glorious dark moonlit mountains, she drew in another deep breath.

Honestly, of all the Wraith shit she'd lived through, the awful things she'd seen and all the stressful near-death scrapes, she'd have thought her subconscious would fixate on something more horrific than an old childhood memory of falling out of that Guardian Tree.

And now it had added the delightful addition of Saoka's station and the BreakAway falling from orbit into the mix.

Just what she needed.

But she was okay; she'd somehow survived that latest mess and she was here at the Retreat.

She wriggled her toes against the warm wooden step, confirming she was indeed awake and definitely not falling out of an icy tree.

It had all been Ulfur's fault that first big fall.

She couldn't exactly remember what he'd said to her that particular day - after all, he'd spent every day of his life cursing her out - but whatever it had been that one time, it had resulted in her running crying into the forest. As she'd run through the snow, she remembered that she had been determined that she was never going to go back to the camp, that she was going to run away forever and live alone in the forest. That she'd live up in the trees and, once the Glisi camp had moved on, she'd be finally alone and safe.

That had been the plan at least.

She'd run out further than she'd ever risked from the camp before. The area had been unfamiliar, the camp having only moved to that camping ground a day or so before, so she'd not known where she was going. But she hadn't cared, she'd just run, run for longer than she had ever done before, tears freezing on her face, until she had found a particularly massive Guardian Tree and had started up it.

And she'd kept climbing, far higher than she'd normally stop in those big trees, and she'd ended up too high and surrounded by ice and a terrifying drop.

Despite pretty much every day of her little life back then having been horrible, full of abuse from the Glisi, she'd never been as terrified as she had been lying on that ice-coated branch, knowing her grip wouldn't last. That she'd fall and nothing she could do would stop it.

If it hadn't been for the deep snow drift at the base of that Guardian Tree, that would have been the end of her life.

She'd wondered over the years, as the memory repeatedly surfaced in her nightmares, if it was because part of her had wished she'd not survived that fall. That life would have been easier. But, now she was living a safer life, relatively speaking, the nightmare still surfaced occasionally. Which meant that it was just plain obvious old childhood trauma then, forever emblazoned into her mind for the rest of her life.

Great!

Stupid Ulfur; it was all his fault.

She watched her toes as she wriggled them again against the warm wooden step. She wondered if he'd found their old Glisi camp in the end. Maybe Mother was still alive and had welcomed him back, especially as he'd no doubt tell them what Seeal had told him to: that she was dead and the curse was lifted.

But...now she knew the truth about 'the curse', maybe it hadn't played out that way. Because Ulfur was a quarter-Athosian as well and, meeting fully grown Glisi for the first time as an adult himself, had Ulfur discovered that he was also smaller than their 'normal'? Had he been shunned again? Chased out into the snow, alone this time without her to care for him?

As much as she hated and resented her brother, she felt reluctant fear for him stirring. He'd not handled things well when they'd been kids, and he'd barely done better as an adult; if he'd been shunned again...what might he do?

Maybe have curled up alone in the snow to die?

Or climbed his own Guardian Tree and purposefully jumped?

She blinked down at her bare feet, the view swimming with reluctant tears. She swiped them away, angry that she was still so weak when it came to her family. That they still, after all this time, could cause her pain.

And leave questions unanswered.

Had Father known his true heritage? Or had simply known his father hadn't been Glisi? Or had it been an unknown mystery for him? Had the rest of the Glisi ostracized him even before she'd been born?

Though, he'd married Mother, so he must have been enough of a part of the camp at that point.

Had Mother known?

Seeal's last memories of Mother were of her sat, pale and almost trance-like as she'd sat in the family tent...she hadn't seemed surprised when Seeal and Ulfur had raced home terrified after finding Father's body in the snow.

Had Mother witnessed what had happened?

Seeal had hated Mother for her coldness anyway, but especially for her lack of any reaction when the Glisi had arrived to kill the Cursed Child and her brother. Mother had just sat there and done nothing, leaving her and Ulfur with nothing to do but run for their lives out into the cold. If the camp hadn't still been within running distance of the Portal, Seeal suspected she and Ulfur wouldn't have survived. But they had been, and she'd remembered all those fascinating Traders who she'd spied on walking to and from the camp while it had sat near the Portal for weeks on end.

She remembered that a surprising number of the visiting Traders had given her sympathetic smiles as she'd followed them from within the treeline, one of which had been Jin. They'd seemed fascinating and they'd come from exotic other planets where, as Father had told her, there wasn't snow. So she'd led Ulfur back along the long exhausting route, running as fast as they could back towards the Portal, and she had dialled the address she had successfully memorised several of the Traders having entered into the Portal control device.

And they'd escaped, leaving Mother back there. Clearly having been in shock.

Seeal hadn't let herself look beyond her rage at Mother to think about what might have happened to her after that. All she'd thought was that Mother would have been pleased to be free of her alienating family.

Had Mother known Father's true heritage? Had she been forced into the marriage? Had she hated him for it? Had she not cared and had loved him?

Or had no one known anything? They'd just thought Father a little shorter, perhaps seen as diseased or stunted from a difficult childhood. Perhaps everyone had been accepted until she'd been born, tiny and deemed 'cursed'?

She huffed out an angry breath and wiped away some more tears as she lifted her gaze from her bare toes to the mountains again.

She'd never have any of the answers, so what was the point dwelling on them?

Ulfur had his own life and it wasn't her responsibility.

None of it was her fault.

She idly realised that there was a third crescent moon off to the far left above more distant mountain peaks.

She had no idea what time it was, but it didn't look like morning was any time soon. She glanced back over her shoulder into her shadow-coated cabin. She didn't feel tired, at least not tired enough to venture back into the land of nightmarish memories.

The Retreat was safe territory, so she could go for a walk, maybe make herself a tea and sit on the nice sofa spot again. She reached back into the cabin and pulled out her sandals and slid her feet into them. Keeping the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she started down the steps to the pale sandy path that led to the main walkway.

As she stepped down onto the path, tiny little lights glowed to life from the grass on either side, and as she walked forward, more little lights came to life. Glancing back, she saw that the first lights had turned off. She paused and rocked her feet on the path slightly, but couldn't feel any pressure sensors, so the lights were likely activated by either heat or motion triggers. She didn't remember the lights when she'd left the cabin for the bathroom hut before bed, but she'd been carrying one of the Pelydrian lamps with her, so maybe these little lights had a light level gauge too. She'd have to have a little look at the lights tomorrow.

Moving forward again, the short path met the main path that led along the front of the cabins set along the back of the Retreat space. She paused on the main path and considered the dark to the left. There wasn't much that way, but Oneakka had recommended a walk up through the trees to another lookout. But it was unknown territory and that was never wise in the dark, especially with her grumbling ankle. She looked ahead down the dark slope of the main lawn towards where the sofa was located. That would probably be the best, though she could walk along the path and down into the kitchen trench first to make a tea. She looked to the right, only to realise that there was light glowing out the door of Oneakka's cabin, two along from her own.

She frowned at the low, but relatively bright light against the dark night. There was no shift of shadow that implied he was moving around inside. Had he fallen asleep with the light on? He'd done that plenty during his recovery, and both Halling and Massa had recounted stories to her of the strange and dangerous places where Oneakka had been able to fall sleep. So, a lamp left on would probably not keep him up, but she could turn it off for him.

Without deciding it, she was already heading along the main path towards his cabin.

As she drew closer, she could see that there was a Pelydrian lamp stood in the open doorway. He'd said something about the lamps giving out something that kept insects away, so maybe he'd put it there for that, not that she'd noticed any insects come to think of it. For all she knew, the apparent animal-talking Pelydrians asked the insects to keep away from the Retreat!

Almost at the edge of the rectangle of light spilling out of his cabin, she slowed and trod forward as softly as possible so as not to wake him. At the very edge of the light, she paused and rose up on her toes to peer up and into the open cabin door at the top of his stairs.

There were two more circles of light glowing up on the ceiling of his hut, implying two more lamps in there; could even he sleep with that much light? She lifted up higher on her tiptoes and the top of his head came into view. He was awake and sat up against the back of his cabin.

He lifted his head instantly, having somehow sensed her looking.

"Sorry," she called instantly, realising peering into what was essentially his bedroom was probably a bit of an invasion of his privacy, "I wasn't sure if you'd fallen asleep with the lights on," she quickly explained, indicating the lamp in the doorway.

"No, still reading," he called back across the distance down to the path. The top of a book rose into view. "I thought you'd have fallen asleep hours ago."

"I did," she replied. "I woke up." Which was a weak description of the effects of the nightmare.

"I thought you'd have slept into tomorrow afternoon," he smiled.

"Tomorrow?" She frowned. "We got here yesterday?"

He glanced down to one side. "Technically it's still today."

"Really?!" She glanced away to the deep night shadowing the Retreat around them. "But it's so dark."

"It's called nighttime, Raven," came the sarcastic reply.

She glared back up into the cabin. "Thank you, Oneakka. I don't know how I'd manage without you around to explain such things."

"Just being helpful," he smiled back in reference to their earlier conversation. She rolled her eyes dramatically so he could see it from inside the cabin.

"I was going to go for a walk, maybe make a tea," she indicated the path continuing to the left.

"There's the moon petal tea, it's supposed to help you sleep," he called back.

"Your cup of it earlier didn't help you fall asleep," she pointed out and then frowned at the wall behind his head and top of his shoulders. Why was his cabin's back wall two different colours? Her's was just greyish green like the rest of the inside of the cabin. She rose up higher on her tip toes to see further into his space. No, it wasn't the wall that was a different colour, there were pillows behind him. A lot of pillows.

"How many cabin's worth of pillows do you have in there?" She asked. He glanced aside with a faintly sheepish look. "Just a few."

"As in three cabins worth?" There had been four plump pillows in her cabin, presumably two each side for the two person floor mattress. "That's twelve pillows," she pointed out. "You clearly have a pillow obsession, Oneakka."

"Says the female who doesn't feel the cold but insists on carrying jackets around with her in the Facility, and who is currently wrapped up in a blanket on a warm night," he countered.

"I'm not entirely wrapped up in it," she quickly corrected him, adjusting the ends of the blanket tighter around herself. "It's just around my shoulders."

He gave her an odd smile. "You're right, that makes all the difference."

She glared at his sarcasm, his holiday-mode playfulness from earlier still continuing apparently. "Those two other lamps from the other cabins too?" She pointed to the other areas of light either side of him.

"I put one in each back corner," he nodded, glancing aside. "Then if you take the floor mattress and turn it, it fits width-wise and you can put another mattress in at the far end," he pointed to the cabin around him.

"So you have a floor of mattresses in there?" She asked as she headed off the main path and up the short way to the base of his cabin steps and hurried up them.

"I've got extra duvets and blankets in here too," he continued as she reached high enough to see properly into his cabin. He was indeed sat against an entire bank of pillows, a lamp in each far corner, his legs stretched out and crossed in front of him under his duvet; well, duvets.

"So you've got the entire cabin floor as a big bed," she reached in through the entrance and tested the mattress floor with duvets on top. "That's really clever, I'll have to do the same in mine."

"I've found having one duvet over me and then two others spread to cover the top and bottom of the floor works well," he pointed out the arrangement.

"Done extensive research and experimentation, I take it?" She teased as she lowered onto one hip on one of the uppermost steps. The top step stretched along the front of the cabin and she noticed that he'd used the far end of it to store his shoes.

"A Warrior has to gather research to determine the best strategy."

She smiled back into the cabin, peering further forward inside. "Where is your chair?" She had had a folding chair in her hut.

"Down beside the bottom of the stairs," he answered. "In the mornings, I often sit on the lower steps with a drink and use the chair as a table."

"Have you tried putting all five cabins' worth of bedding in here?"

"It doesn't work," he replied with a smile. "Too crowded, and twenty pillows is too many even for me."

She grinned at his joke. "I don't know," she leaned forward to peer vaguely further into his den of bedding. "You could line the walls with some, keep in more warmth." Not that she guessed it was needed with the comfortable temperature.

"Is that how Glisi keep their tents warm?" He asked. "Line them with pillows?"

The mention of the Glisi stirred the cold shadow feeling behind her, the whisper of freezing snow and slippery ice against the back of her neck. "Not pillows no," she replied as she adjusted her Bakhau blanket around her shoulders a bit to cover the back of her neck. "The trick is many fabric layers, trapping in warm air between them. Though, getting cold isn't an issue here, I guess."

She glanced away to the darkness, that shivering feeling against her back still niggling at her. With the lamp glowing bright close to her in the doorway, the light made everything beyond Oneakka's cabin seem suddenly far darker and less welcoming.

It was okay though, it was Pelydr and she was here with Oneakka, so she couldn't be any safer.

She made herself look from the impenetrable shadows off to the glowing snowcapped mountains. "I'd meant to leave my door open when I fell asleep, watch the mountains."

"You slept okay when you did sleep then?" Oneakka asked.

"I had planned to just test the pillows," she glanced back into the warm light inside the cabin and smiled ruefully. "Don't' remember anything after that." Well, except the nightmare.

Oneakka smiled, but there was a questioning edge to his expression. "The cabin was comfortable enough for you though?"

"Yes, though it's no Elite den of bedding," she indicated his space, desperately wanting to get back to playful relaxed banter and not the feeling that he might have guessed why she was up walking around the Retreat in the middle of the night.

"Den of bedding," he repeated. "I like that."

She grinned as she glanced further around what she could see. He had a small stack of books by one lamp, an electronic pad on top of them, and a mug beside them. On his other side, she could see a small toiletry bag maybe. He definitely knew how to make himself at home while he was here, but then he'd had years of practice.

"The mattress was comfortable enough for you?" He asked.

She blinked back to his mohawked pale complexion, the lamp light on both sides of him casting away all shadows so that his skin looked like sun-warmed snow. The dark spiralling tattoos on the right side of his face somehow looked smaller too, or maybe it was just that she was so used to them now that they no longer dominated his face. Among them, the deep old scar drew her eye; she wondered if he still had nightmares about that fateful day. How could he not?

"Yes, it's fine," she replied simply.

"Retreat not too basic for you?" He pressed, seeming oddly fixed on the issue.

"Basic?" She repeated, bemused. "That's not how I'd describe it."

"How would you describe it?"

She was a little surprised at the continued line of questioning. "What's not to like? Super safe planet, gorgeous views," she glanced off to the glorious glowing mountaintops, "full kitchen, bathroom and cleaning facilities. Elite Warrior on hand to heat food at the fastest speed," she smiled back round at him.

He smiled back.

She wasn't sure she'd seen him smile as much as he had today. This apologetic holiday version of him was the most relaxed she'd ever seen him, including all those evenings she'd spent with him in his Facility quarters during his recovery; though maybe that wasn't the best comparison as he'd suffered and felt very grumpy during his difficult recovery. Still, it felt like he'd left some outer protective layer back in the Facility. In fact, the closer they'd gotten to this Retreat, the more relaxed he'd seemed to become. Years of rest and recuperation here were no doubt responsible; and sat comfortably in his den of bedding, he looked the most peaceful she'd ever seen him.

"I can see why you enjoy it here, why you come back each year," she told him as she glanced back out at the mountains again. "It feels like a place to find some peace."

She just had to hope that the nightmare wouldn't come back tonight or the other nights she was here. She glanced off towards her waiting dark cabin, the prospect of going back to her bed not appealing.

"Good," he replied, cutting into the silent moment. "Some people might find it too basic."

She scoffed. "Crazy people. It's far better than any luxury hotel."

She heard him chuckle so she looked back round. He'd set his book down on his lap, open to save his place. She had interrupted him so she should really go.

"I've never stayed in a luxury hotel, so I wouldn't know."

"What? Never?" She frowned at him. "But you're an Elite, you could probably stay anywhere you wanted. For free, probably."

He shrugged dismissively. He was wearing a soft white top this evening, a very unusual colour for him. She'd have thought it would wash him out, but it made his skin seem warmer in comparison. The long sleeves of the bedshirt were also somewhat unusual on him, but what was standard was that the shirt was stretched across his chest and upper arms like a second skin; honestly, did the male not know that clothes came in larger sizes?

"There's nothing I need from a luxury hotel," he stated.

"What about just to experience it, see what it's like?" She pressed, shifting on the wooden step to face him a little easier.

"You can come and sit inside, Raven," he indicated inside the den. "It's more comfortable."

"I don't want to interrupt your reading," she checked, though she felt a little thrilled that he would invite her in. The den looked cosy.

"I've got loads of time to read," he lifted the book and set it down to his side. "Come in, test out the floor of bedding."

"Okay, then," she accepted perhaps a little too eagerly. "Just for a little bit," she rose up and climbed up the last couple of steps, swiftly slid off her sandals and crawled in past the lamp in the doorway onto the layers of mattress and duvet.

"I'll even let you have some pillows."

"Wow, I am honoured," she teased as she crawled to the right, intending to lean her back against the front wall so she could sit relatively opposite him.

"Here you go," he said as she looked round to find him laying two pillows on the bedding, and that he'd moved to the left a little, leaving more space on the right side of the hut for her.

"Thank you," she picked up the pillows and set them against the front wall.

"I take it then that you've stayed in a luxury hotel before?" He asked as she settled against the pillows. "Use the duvet too," he indicated the bedding under her.

"I have partaken in a stay in an Alliance luxury hotel," she informed him as she pulled her knees to her front, lifted the end of the duvet and slid her legs under it. It was warm from his body heat.

"When?" He asked. "Do you want another pillow?"

She sat back and shifted herself into the two pillows, testing comfort and squishiness. "I'm good, thank you. About five years ago," she guessed as she adjusted her blanket around her shoulders, at which point she suddenly realised that her nightshirt was his old shirt. Damn it, she'd not thought about that, she'd just thrown it on, it being her favourite. It probably needed a wash! She'd put it in the Pelydr underground washing machine tomorrow, and, for now, keep the Bakhau blanket tucked around her to hide it. Hopefully he hadn't noticed.

"Five years ago?" He repeated with doubt in his voice.

She adjusted the last bit of the duvet over her legs and stilled, strangely comfortable. "Yes," she nodded across the faint diagonal angle between them across the cabin.

"Five years ago, meaning while you were on Alliance watchlists?" He clarified.

She smiled. "Yes," she confirmed proudly.

"How did you manage that?" He frowned, his more Elite Warrior tone having returned. "Disguise and subterfuge."

"Where was this hotel you stayed at?"

She grinned. "Planning your report to Enforcement about the breach in security?" "Definitely," he confirmed with a nod. "Where did you stay?"

She paused before answering, enjoying the moment. "The Bright Stars Hotel."

His surprised look made her grin.

"The Bright Stars?" He repeated. She nodded. "On Aria?" She nodded again. "The one opposite several important Alliance Government buildings and Enforcement's headquarters?" He asked.

"Yesss," she drew out the word as she shifted back against her pillows a little more.

"How?!" He asked with honest bemusement.

She shook her head at his faith in Alliance security measures. "I didn't use my own name, obviously, and I was in disguise."

"What kind of disguise?"

"You know the usual, different clothes, a wig," she shrugged. "Though half of any disguise is how you behave, rather than how you look."

He pulled a doubtful expression at her. "You remember when we ran into each other on Belsa when you were 'disguised' as a washer woman and I recognised you instantly?"

"That's different," she dismissed his point. "You and I had stood pretty close that time on Dream and you had memorised my face. Security on Aria have to look at literally thousands of people every day, they don't and can't memorise all but their top concerns. I was on Alliance watchlists, but not high up on them; I didn't attract much interest outside of select Division people I won't name."

"You mean Robiah," Oneakka clearly took delight in naming the male.

"Being helpful again, I see?"

"Of course. So why were you staying at the Bright Stars?"

"I wasn't spying on any Government buildings or Enforcement," she confirmed what was most likely worrying him. "I was there watching a particular piece of scum named Realgar."

"The dead underground weapons dealer?" Oneakka instantly recognised the name, which surprised her a little.

"I didn't kill him, before you ask," she stressed as she crossed her legs under the warm duvet layers. Oneakka's legs, though pointed the opposite way, were only a foot away. It was so strange to think how they'd started out as enemies and now they were sitting sharing a cabin, stories, and bedding! Life really was very strange.

"I know you didn't kill him," Oneakka replied. "He was killed when Enforcement stormed his private moon compound."

"He was not a nice person by any stretch of any imagination," Seeal recalled. "He had a lot of people assassinated to clear the way for his weapons trading out from Alliance space."

"Illegal trading," Oneakka felt the need to emphasise. "Why were you spying on him?"

"He was trying to ruin one of Creass' regulars on Dream. Creass wanted to find out what connections Realgar had with Alliance officials, see if he could be taken out or whether it would bring down royal hell on Dream."

"I take it that you found out about Realgar's affair with the Lead Minister of Aria?" Now she was the one surprised. "We didn't know the Alliance found out about that."

"How do you think Enforcement got their final evidence? They'd suspected him for years, but it was only when they found out about her that they could use her to prove he was running illegal trade. Unfortunately, he got wind of the arrest warrant and it turned into a bloody battle and he was killed in the crossfire."

She nodded. "We'd known his underground work had been found out, but not how, and once he was dead, he wasn't relevant anymore."

"Was he selling weapons out of the Bright Stars?"

"Not that I heard. It was where he met her. I'd hoped to spy on some juicy trading intel and get some interesting names, instead there was far too much eager splashing around in the luxury room's hot tub with the Lead Minister," she winced at remembering the noises she'd had to listen to in case Realgar had started talking about anything actually useful.

Oneakka chuckled.

"I'm not sure she even liked him that much," Seeal recalled. "They argued outside the hot tub, insulting each other and she left pretty soon after all the splashing around. I suspected she liked the danger of him. There were a lot of visitors to Dream who were like that; on the hunt for someone dangerous enough for them to get a thrill and/or taunt their existing partners. Sometimes they'd get themselves killed. Morons."

Oneakka smiled. "What?"

"Nothing. I agree with you," he replied, but with an odd tone and he'd glanced down and aside, which was a very oddly uncomfortable body language display from him.

"That the First Minister was out for a thrill or that people like that are morons?" She pressed, curious at his reaction.

He looked back at her and there was an odd pause, as if he was considering something. "You don't look like I do and not attract some morons," he finally said.

She blinked at that, surprised and oddly unsettled for a moment. She'd not thought about a similar pattern for Elite as she'd seen on Dream; those purposefully out on the sexual hunt to find someone dangerous. Elite Warriors certainly fell into 'dangerous' in terms of their training, and she knew there were those that idolised Elite to the point of obsession, but she'd not realised Oneakka had been treated that way. Females on the hunt to use him just for a passing thrill because of what he looked like.

"Because you're an obviously big strong Elite, or because of your scar and markings?" She asked directly.

Though no doubt his handsomeness was also a factor, but she didn't mention that part.

"The scar and markings, and my intense glaring ability," he replied with a smile, the joke oddly jarring despite it's honesty.

"Well, you do glare well," she played along, but she still felt niggling annoyance. She didn't like the idea of females using him like that. It felt...demeaning.

But there lingered another thought...how successful had those morons been? Was that how he found female attention if he wanted it and Pampata hadn't been around? Females ready and available because he looked dangerous? It annoyed her as much as she wanted to know more.

"Most Elite have to deal with challenges too when out socially," he added. "Particularly from males, many hoping to impress others by being daring enough to 'stand up' to an Elite Warrior."

She pulled a face at that. "That must get really old really fast. How do you deal with that?"

"Why do you think Myrtle's club is so popular for Elite and Military staff?"

She nodded. "I did wonder about the majority of Military in there."

"Plus there's a separate area for Elite and high level Military," Oneakka supplied.

"Smart move," she considered with interest. "If I were running the place, the Elite and top Military area would have a separate restricted entrance with an access code that changed daily."

Oneakka smiled, that amused sparkle appearing in his eyes again. "That's exactly what happens."

She felt an unexpected warm rush of pleasure at having clearly impressed him. "Though I'd make some other changes to that club," she felt she had to add to cover up the moment.

"Like kick Myrtle out of it?"

"You really don't like him, do you," she baited.

"No, I don't mind the slimy, arrogant, selfish male, no."

She couldn't help but chuckle; she'd never heard him speak about anyone like he did Myrtle. "You two have know each other since you were first Recruits as children, right?" He nodded rather reluctantly. "You'd think that would bond you both."

"Just because you have to be around someone a lot doesn't mean you have to like them."

"Well that's certainly true," she sighed as she ran her hands over the duvet covering her legs, the

worries about Ulfur abruptly returning. "I've spent most of my life around people I did not like."

"Whereas now you spend time around people you do like," Oneakka stated.

She felt the tiniest little flush at the all too true implications of that statement when it came to Oneakka himself, but simply nodded.

"And goats," Oneakka added and she smiled up at him. "I don't suppose there were goats on the Glisi world, right?"

"No goats," she pulled a sad face.

"Stupid planet then," he stated with a smile.

She grinned at the obvious attempt to please her with that comment. "Very stupid planet."

His unusual blue eyes seemed as relaxed as the rest of him this evening, his eye contact feeling warm and easy.

Oddly though, she found she had to look away after a moment, the strangely appealing image of him sat among pillows and lamplight making her forget the realities of their lives.

"Was the Bright Stars the best place you've stayed?" Oneakka asked into the silent pause.

"I think this place is topping the list," she admitted. "Though," she considered, "there was this one planet where there was this pristine beach with its surrounding cove hillsides just coated in flowers and-"

"Wait," Oneakka interrupted her. "Beach means water nearby..." He noted with a look.

"I'm not afraid of water," she repeated her ongoing emphasis, unsure if he kept making this point just to tease her or if he actually believed she was afraid of water.

"Right, only fish, which swim in the ocean."

"Actually it wasn't an ocean on that planet, it was a massive lake and I didn't see any fish in it," she corrected him. "Not that I had time to investigate properly. I always wanted to go back to find that beach again."

"Why didn't you?"

"It was on a small little planet in territory that was not friendly to anyone connected to Dream," she summarised what had been a far more complicated situation. "Besides, not long after that I found myself in the company of Elite, which is much better."

He smiled.

"Do you have a favourite place you've stayed?" She asked, curious. "Besides here," she amended.

He glanced away, his attention sliding to the mountain view out through the open cabin door to her left. "Not really. The best moments were after battle and that first night when you're safe and can really rest. Doesn't really matter where."

She watched him smile softly at memories only he could see.

"I haven't had a lot of those moments," she told him honestly, and his blue eyes moved back to her. "Places I felt safe enough to really rest," she explained. "Probably the first real time was after you and Halling arrested me."

"In the prison cell," he seemed to know.

She nodded. "Not sure I'd slept as deeply as that in my whole life up until that point."

She felt a little uncomfortable with saying that, even though there was no reason to be. It was a fact and being on an Elite ship on a comfortable bed made sense as a safe place to sleep.

"I thought you were faking that deep sleep at first," he reported. "Then, when I realised you weren't..." He angled his head faintly.

"What?" She frowned at him.

"It told me a lot about the life you'd lived," he replied.

She felt a little exposed at that comment, not that she should. "You read into it that I must have gone without a lot of sleep, maybe didn't feel safe a lot of the time," she supplied the interpretation she'd have drawn.

"That and you woke up with a raised fist, ready to fight the instant you were woken up," he added. "Do you still do that?"

He was asking surprising questions this evening. "Only occasionally," she answered honestly, because that had been pretty much how she'd woken up from this evening's nightmare: haunted by the past, afraid, and looking for a weapon.

She felt oddly uncomfortable with the sympathy she saw cross Oneakka's face and had to glance away.

She should probably go back to her cabin soon, or maybe get that moon petal tea and leave him to read himself into nightmare-free sleep. Her eyes fell on the book he'd been reading, which now lay closed on the other side of his outstretched nearby legs.

"What were you reading?" She asked, curious. All those books in his quarters at the Facility and on the Sythus, and she realised she wasn't sure what he was actually interested in reading.

His strong pale hand came into view and picked up the book, opening it again, but already she could see the blocky style glyph writing; it was Ugun.

"It's a collection of stories from Ugun," he confirmed as he leafed through the pages, presumably looking for where he had left off. "The one I was reading before you got here was about a frog."

She blinked up at his face, seeing the amused smile as he glanced up from the book. "A frog?" She asked, suspicious. "Really?"

He nodded emphatically, his blue eyes back on the book. "My people taught morals, lessons, and philosophy through stories."

"Common enough on most worlds."

"And a lot of the stories included wildlife." He stopped turning pages, presumably having found where he'd stopped. "This one is about a frog." He turned the open book round so she could see the two pages; one side was filled with Ugun glyphs, but the other side showed a very stylised ink drawing of a frog sitting on a large leaf. Ugun artwork; she leaned further forward to see it better.

"This story is about a frog that, as a tadpole, was picked up out of its home pond by a giant bird," he reported as he turned the book back round and turned a page. "The bird drops the tadpole before it can eat it, and the tadpole lands in another pond. The tadpole survives and carries on with its life, unaware that it wasn't from the pond it grew up in. As it develops into a frog, it realises that it looks different to all the other frogs around it."

She narrowed his eyes at him as he turned another page. "Is there a particular point to this story?" She asked, suspecting he was about to mention her own homeworld.

"All these stories have a point," he replied, his eyes on the book. "The frog matures and realises it doesn't belong in the pond it grew up in, so decides to leave. It hops off into the dangerous underbrush." He turned the book and another picture came into view. She leaned forward again to peer at it. The frog was shown in mid-hop among thick reeds and leaves, a dangerous looking rodent creature of some kind in the distance.

She shifted her gaze from the picture back to Oneakka. "Let me guess where this is going; the frog finds its old pond and its own kind of frogs, settles down and has loads of little baby frogs, protecting them from big dangerous birds, and the little frogs grow up self-assured and knowing who they are."

"No," Oneakka replied with a smile. "The frog finds its old pond and other frogs that look like it, and they welcome it. But the frog feels out of place and ends up going back to the pond it grew up in. They welcome it home, having missed it, and it settles happily in the pond for the rest of its life."

She frowned at him. "I hope this isn't your way of saying I should go back to the Glisi forest."

"No," he insisted with feeling. "The point of the story is to know oneself and accept who you are and where you are in your life."

"So, this is your way of telling me to accept my new Athosian heritage."

"You can read into the story whatever you want," he smiled back far too innocently.

She shook her head at him.

"You asked what the story was about," he shrugged, just as unconvincingly innocent, only to look down at the book's cover. "Actually the whole book is about stories about 'finding one's place'."

"Which you just happened to pack to bring with you here to read."

He angled his head. "Fair point."

She considered him and his relaxed smiling holiday version. "It's not like you to use symbolism and stories to make a point. You usually just state what you think."

His eyes dropped back to the book abruptly. "True, but symbolism was important to my people. Helps you understand something more deeply. I remember this story about the frog being told a lot when I was young on Ugun, remember the image of the frog painted on hut doorways. There was a boy in my village whose name translated to something like 're-found frog'. We all knew it referred to this frog from this story."

"Were Ugun names often from stories?" She asked carefully.

"A lot," he nodded as he started leafing through the book again.

"Is your name perhaps from an Ugun story?" She queried hopefully. If she could find that much out, perhaps there was a translation somewhere and she could finally find out the meaning of his name.

The blue eyes lifted to her. "No."

She grinned at the warning look and tone. "You sure about that?"

"Yes," he confirmed with a look that clearly dared her to waste her time trying to find out if he was lying to her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Her reading of him was that 'Oneakka' wasn't from any stories, but he was so secretive about the meaning of his name that she couldn't be entirely sure there wasn't something more complicated in that look.

Which made her want to know even more.

"I'll find out one day," she told him.

His blue eyes returned to the book. "We'll see."

She chuckled at the challenge in that as he turned pages. She should probably leave now as he clearly wanted to get back to his reading.

"There's a couple of stories about fish in here," he added though, well, clearly baited.

"Well keep those to yourself."

He grinned as he turned another page. "How about one about a snow spirit?"

"Snow spirit?" She frowned. "As in something like the 'blade spirits' you told me your people believed inhabited their metal tools?"

"Similar," he nodded. "My people believed in different types of spirits that lived in or near various certain places or things."

"So there was a spirit of snow?" She frowned. "It'd be a pretty big spirit on the Glisi world with the unending snow there."

"Not snow then. How about a spirit that looked after fish in a pond?"

She glared at his mischievous look. "How about something in the warm and away from anything to do with snow or fish."

"Okay," he replied in a tone that suggested she was missing out as he leafed through more pages. She watched him focused on the book, that playful smile still lighting up his face almost as much as the lamps on either side of him.

There surely had to come a point when he'd stop surprising her. Watching him now, a smile on his face as he looked through old stories, he couldn't seem further from that terrifying Elite Warrior who had recognised her on Belsa, who had chased her through that town to stand threateningly on that rooftop, glaring down at her in the rain.

And yet, he was the exact same male. A heroic warrior, strong in body and mind, with a playful intelligence; and now turned out to be a great cook too! Honestly, it was like he was trying to be as attractive as possible. Even in the depths of his full oafish modes, he was somehow still...

She blinked and shook her head, forcing herself to stop staring at him.

"Here we go," he uttered, the page turning stopping and she saw him look across at her. "Can I interest you in a story about a tree spirit?"

She couldn't help herself return his playful smile. Clearly he didn't seem in any massive rush for her to leave. In fact, it was nice sat in here with him, reminiscent of her evenings sat at his bedside during his recovery. As difficult as that period had been for him, she missed those regular evenings sat alone together.

"Does any snow fall on this tree?" She checked.

"Don't think so," he frowned faintly at the book and turned two pages. "Though, I think there may briefly be a raven in it," he looked back with his eyebrows lifted to suggest that the addition of a raven made it a more appealing story for her.

He wasn't wrong.

"Okay," she decided, "But I'm going to need another pillow."

He glanced around him, assessing which pillow he could part with from his massive selection. "Payment accepted," he declared as he picked out a pillow, but, rather than passing it across to her like the previous two, he quickly threw it at her.

She caught it well before it hit her face, unable to stop herself from sniggering at the fast soft attack.

"Not that sleepy then," he concluded with a smile. "What sleep you did get did you good."

It might have replenished her physically, but not emotionally, the flickering memories of the nightmare playing through her mind as she set about shoving the new pillow behind her.

"So typical of you," she told him as she snuggled her shoulders back against the extra cushioning. "Swinging people's ropes to see if their grip is good."

"Only way to test it," he repeated his theory from the Facility Gym when he'd rudely shaken that climbing rope while she'd been hanging on to the top for grim life.

"Always thinking like an Elite," she told him teasingly.

"Thank you," he replied with a smile, his eyes back on the book, turning pages, presumably returning to the beginning of the tree story.

She shook her head at him, suspecting he could see her still in his peripheral vision.

Always an Elite; it was an important fact to always remember about him. Sure, he was relaxed and looking all annoyingly handsome in the lamplight, but he was an Elite through and through; all too ready to willingly stride into the most deadly of situations, uncaring about his own survival, and so stubbornly determined that he wasn't willing to even lose a verbal sparring match.

Though, she realised, as he started summarising the story of a tree stood alone in an empty glade, they'd actually made it through an entire day without getting into a proper argument.

It felt like it had been a long time since that had happened.

00000

The old Supply Ship had seen far better days, but its Hyperspace engine and hull were fully functional and that was all that was really required for this mission. Though, it's inner systems had not been quite as operationally sound.

Mind Song watched the flickering display in front of him, the pressures increasing, the flow-output rising back up into expected range.

He held still though, watching and waiting, ensuring the hours of work he'd put into repairing the system would hold...

All the multi-layered work he'd done now all hung on the single output shown on one small display. He smiled at the simple result from something so complex, but then that was always the way with life.

He reached out and laid a hand on the skeletal frame of the Maintenance Chamber's console. He had nothing close to the depth of connection Long Sleep felt to the living technology, but he smiled in appreciation at the faint pulse thrumming through the frame, the fluids within the thick conduits flowing with life-giving nourishment once more.

The readings on the display were holding steady, his work successful. Everything complete, or at least this latest repair from Long Sleep's very detailed list he had prepared before Mind Song had been forced to leave him behind.

Lifting his hand from the console, Mind Song drew out the portable interface his Batch Brother had filled for him and Michael to follow on their long trip. The section on this regional node seemed complete, but Mind Song read it through again, consulting the console a few times to be sure. There was nothing in this galaxy that his Brother knew better than how to care for ships, and so Mind Song made sure every reading matched his Brother's detailed specifications.

And it all did.

With a murmur of satisfaction, Mind Song stepped back from the console and considered the Maintenance Chamber that had been his base for many hours now. Everything was repaired in here as best it could be on this old Supply Ship.

It hadn't come from New Breath's own Hive, but rather one of the other Cruisers that had followed her lead to escape the battle against the Skerti. When Mind Song had left Long Sleep behind on New Breath's repairing Hive, three Cruisers had arrived, with reports of the last two surviving two perhaps also to join them. Mind Song just hoped that the Young Queen would keep her promise to stay there until Mind Song's return from what he hoped would be a successful trip to find the First Queens.

A trip into "myth and madness" as Long Sleep had summarised it when they had embraced before Mind Song had left. He had not enjoyed parting ways from his Batch Brother, especially after all the time they had been apart during his imprisonment by the Prey Koyla, but he respected New Breath's decision to keep him; for Mind Song would definitely return for his Brother, regardless as to the outcome of this, perhaps, fatal trip to seek out the so called myth and madness.

Still, according to the coordinates New Breath had entered into this old Supply Ship's piloting station, there were still at least a handful of more days travel ahead until they reached the edge of the galaxy, where apparently they would find the next stage of their travel. New Breath had shared nothing else than that, and Mind Song hadn't been too sure if that was not because she did not know or because it would be obvious once they arrived. Only time would tell.

And it did allow these five days ahead for him and Michael time to repair this damaged old Supply Ship.

Mind Song checked on the fluid pressures again, but they remained consistent. He marked the work as complete on Long Sleep's list with a true burst of satisfaction. Turning and striding out of the Chamber, Mind Song mused at recalling his Batch Brother's grumpy mutterings at how much attention this old craft required. Many of the systems on the repair list were not entirely required for this mission, but Long Sleep and checked everything and included every single repair required, even down to an uneven wobble of a secondary piloting console and that overgrown webbing in some areas needed trimming back.

It had been rather cunning of New Breath to provide this old neglected ship for this journey to myth and madness. It was a small and relatively unimportant ship, but powerful enough for effective hyperspace flight, and with only himself and Michael onboard with nothing to do for days, they could dedicate their time to repairing the ship. If they survived, then they would return to the Young Queen alive and with a fully repaired ship for her further use, but if they did not survive, she had lost nothing significant from her hopefully growing new fleet.

Though, Mind Song corrected in his mind as he made his way through the corridors of the Supply Ship, he needed to start referring to New Breath as his Queen, now that he, Long Sleep and Michael had pledged themselves to her Hive. It had been a tactical ploy he'd used to gain her agreement for this trip, but it could also prove very useful in the future. Though young and inexperienced, New Breath showed considerable potential, especially during their stay on Lost Lineage's oppressive ancient Hive. And New Breath had made wise choices in the battle against the Skerti, even if she

hadn't been all that cheerful about the outcome. A youthful leader not set in her ways could be vitally important in the war ahead, not just against the Skerti, but the increasingly powerful Armoured Herd.

Not to mention Atlantis and their association with the Armoured Herd.

Honestly, he still wondered how Sheppard had ended up with a Queen Killer as his own Queen; it seemed a story he would have enjoyed hearing from Sheppard.

He often found himself wondering about the Human, what he might be up to with his kind, and that he lived now only because of a gift from a Wraith. That fact amused Mind Song regularly, almost as frequently as he surprised himself at how much respect he still felt for the Human. Despite how short a time they had shared together, it had been strangely profound.

It made him wonder how many other Human prey were like Sheppard...

Turning into the last stretch of corridor, Mind Song turned his attention to his unusual companion for this adventure.

Michael's mind was becoming a familiar thing to be around. He had an impressive ability to concentrate profoundly on a task and had shown considerable intelligence in their repair work onboard.

And then there was the unexpected pleasure lingering always along the edge of Michael's mind. A joy that Mind Song could recognise and sympathise with to a considerable degree; the joy of freedom from former oppression.

Though considerable months had passed since Mind Song had escaped Kolya alongside Sheppard, he still had moments of deep grateful pleasure at his freedom. And he felt the same in Michael, but with an interesting flavour of something else. A bright, almost electric edge to it that suggested perhaps excitement?

Ming Song could feel it now as he became more acutely aware of Michael's mind in the chamber up ahead, at the piloting controls of the Supply Ship while also working on something else that would no doubt be interesting. That concentration of intelligence with such excited pleasure...Michael was certainly an interesting Warrior.

However, Mind Song still knew next to nothing about Michael. Given there were only two of them, and one had to be piloting the Supply Ship, especially with some systems less than perfect, they had taken to shifts of ten hours. While one worked on piloting, the other working on repairs. Between them, in just the two days thus far of this trip, they had already completed a significant amount on Long Sleep's list, and Mind Song expected they might even complete all their tasks by the time they reached their target point.

The arched bone entrance into the Ship's Central Command came into view, and Mind Song extended his mind up a little towards the network, briefly and politely announcing his imminent arrival to Michael.

Michael's concentration shifted and responded with an equally brief brush of mental welcome as Mind Song entered the chamber. Michael was stood at the piloting console, the navigation hologram glowing in front of him, and, alongside it, another hologram running computations.

"How are we progressing?" Mind Song asked as he strode to Michael's side, though the answer was obvious from the display. Their route was direct, a straight line towards the coordinates set by New Breath.

"We are progressing well," Michael confirmed with a clear tone of satisfaction in his voice and along the edge of his mind. "Engine Pod output is holding and the hull is not deteriorating any faster thanks to our efforts."

"Excellent," Mind Song mused as he set the portable interface with Long Sleep's repair list on the console for Michael's repair shift. His own shift now over, Mind Song moved towards the bone bench to one side. The majority of his last few hours he had spent either crouched or awkwardly reaching inside tight confined spaces in the Maintenance Chamber, so he sighed with pleasure as he sat down.

"The fluid conduit repairs are complete?" Michael asked.

"They are indeed," Mind Song confirmed with satisfaction of his own. "The pressures and flow are all well within tolerance."

"We are ahead of schedule then," Michael glanced round. "I've refined the sensors some more," he indicated the second hologram. "I've adjusted our stopping points for hull regeneration and, as result, we should reach the target coordinates sixteen hours earlier than our initial prediction."

Well that certainly explained Michael's pleasure on his work today.

Mind Song considered the new display and the amended calculations on the hull's state and locations for the safest locations to drop from hyperspace to allow the hull to recover.

"You were able to refine the sensor scans of our own hull?" Mind Song checked his understanding of what he was seeing.

"Yes, the sensors were outdated. On the Hive I was on before my capture by Lost Lineage, they had upgraded the sensors' compression data considerably. It was simple enough to apply it to this ship."

"I see," Mind Song shifted his gaze to his unusual travel companion. Despite having spent these last two days working together on their common mission, they had not spent a great deal of that time together. There was too much to be done, but with each short change of guard at the piloting console, Mind Song's curiosity about Michael only grew.

And Michael had yet to share any significant detail about his uniqueness.

Yet, the more time Mind Song worked with him, the more interesting Michael was becoming. "You are a Warrior with unending skills, Michael," he noted.

Michael's head angled faintly in response to the compliment. "I believe I should be able to make some further changes to the nerve conduction of the computer system as well, with compression and speed increased, that should improve further systems."

"Were you a Keeper on your former Hives?" Mind Song asked directly.

"No," Michael shook his head in a rather Human like way, though his attention was directed down on the console still, the holographic display shifting through the Supply Ship's self-analysis of its nerve network. "But most in my Birth Hive were trained on technology basics, and I find adaptation interesting."

There had been an odd emotional shift during that last point, a strange almost...sadness. Mind Song frowned at Michael's profile with his unusual short, dark-tinged white hair.

"From your own personal experience perhaps?" Mind Song decided to push a little.

Michael's mind tightened up, distancing a little...but not entirely. Mind Song wasn't sure if that was born from self-consciousness within the unusual Warrior, or a reluctance to share his experiences.

"My Birth Queen," Michael finally uttered, "she took considerable interest in the genetics of our technology."

"Did she?" Mind Song replied. But no mention of Wraith kin genetics.

Michael nodded as he sent another request to the hologram, its display showing the predicted increase to computing speed with the suggested improvements.

Mind Song saw a small smile cross Michael's face, so switched his attention to the display.

"Ah," Mind Song smiled, "impressive."

"Only if the improvements work," Michael added, as if suddenly doubting his skill.

"Development requires experimentation," Mind Song quoted his long-lost Birth Queen.

Michael looked round, his intense focus now concentrated on Mind Song.

Mind Song met his gaze directly and watched the flickers of emotions play across Michael's face, echoing along the edge of his intelligent mind.

"You truly believe that?" Michael asked after a long pause.

"What is the alternative?" Mind Song considered.

"Some argue that we should leave things unchanged and 'pure'," Michael replied, recalling Lost Lineage's stance as the extreme of such philosophy.

Mind Song angled his head. "And we have seen how the Armoured Herd exploit that purity to their own victory."

"The Hive I was on before Lost Lineage captured me," Michael turned his gaze back to the console, but Mind Song sensed his attention was still intensely focused on their conversation. "That Queen," there was a burst of distaste and resentment along the edge of Michael's mind, "she believed that Wraith kind had allowed Human Prey to develop and spread too far. That the Armoured Herd are the result of Wraith mismanagement."

Mind Song considered that as he watched the display shift with the updated scan results Michael was running. "Perhaps there is wisdom in that," he considered. "But one has to wonder if it was always inevitable. Life in all forms changes."

"Even Wraith?" Michael asked.

Mind Song watched the holographic results displaying details of the Supply Ship in far greater detail thanks to Michael's changes.

"Is that not what you have just done to our sensors?" Mind Song asked him. "From past experience and learning, you have adapted to circumstances and, as a consequence, you are able to change this ship for the better."

Michael's mind shifted, constrained but also, strangely, bubbling with almost eagerness within.

"Not all changes are good," Michael stated, his gaze on the console in front of him, but Mind Song saw no input being entered.

"No," Mind Song agreed. "But it is surprising what potential they present, even if we do not initially recognise it."

Michael looked round, his expression thoughtful.

Mind Song held his gaze and felt Michael's mind gently probing the edges of his own, seeking out... perhaps duplicity or honesty. Mind Song let him look, let him seek what it was that might answer his unspoken anxieties.

After a long moment, Michael's mind withdrew and he blinked, glancing aside in thought. And then he nodded, and returned his attention the displays.

"I am scheduled to work on the central node today, but I think it would be useful if I worked on the nerve inductions as the node is stable," Michael stated as he looked back round, the comment loitering with more question than it did statement.

"I bow to your unending skills and learning," Mind Song smiled at him.

Michael's mind shifted with relieved pleasure as he withdrew his connection to the piloting console's interface.

Mind Song pushed up from the bench and headed towards him, sliding in front of the console as Michael stepped aside. "Do you need any assistance from here for your work?" Mind Song asked as he slid his hands into the console's interface and felt the Supply Ship recognise and respond to him.

"I may need to shut down and redirect certain pathways if I can make the adjustments," Michael replied, sounding more confident now about his planned work.

"Let me know when," Mind Song nodded as he drew up the holographic display on their course.

"Very well," Michael agreed, a smile almost audible in his voice as he headed away. "Make sure to watch the lateral port hull, there were some suggestions of increased hyperspace wear; we should keep close eye."

"I will do so," Mind Song agreed, calling up the sensors and running a scan now so he could compare any changes.

"Call to me if you need anything," Michael added as his footsteps moved away and out of the chamber.

Mind Song found himself listening to the disappearing footfalls down the corridor outside until silence returned.

Part of him wanted to call up the internal sensors, monitor Michael through the ship, but such actions would be detectable and, besides, one had to grow trust by giving it.

Still, the unanswered and unasked questions about Michael itched at him. Curiosity was said to be a Human weakness, one that led them into dark forests and into waiting ambushes, but Mind Song could understand that tendency all too well. To seek out what one didn't understand, to explore and see how far the boundaries could be stretched.

And he suspected that Michael, and whatever tale there was to his own uniqueness, that there had been some damage caused there. Perhaps a boundary pushed that had threatened his very survival.

But what that had been...well, it seemed Michael was in no hurry to share it.

Much to Mind Song's frustrated curiosity.

Still, he could appreciate and respect controlling information and, if nothing else, this voyage to the unknown – into myth and madness – well, it would tell him a great deal about Michael.

0000

"...and the Dunas declared the agreement everlasting and peace remained in the joyful meadow for evermore," Oneakka read out the last line of the latest story.

About two stories in, he'd stopped summarising the tales for Raven and just started simply reading the text out directly to her.

It felt nice to read them aloud, word for word, giving voice to his people's stories.

Though, Raven had taken strong exception to one story in which small mammals had gotten stuck in a frozen pond. Apparently they hadn't been sensible and taken proper precautions when the storm had been seen on the horizon. He'd agreed but pointed out that had been part of the lesson of the tale, still she'd muttered about bad planning throughout the rest of the story. He hadn't been able to catch all the comments though from where she was curled up within the embrace of now five pillows he'd given her.

After sharing the first story about the tree spirit, she'd moved around to the side of the cabin to allow her to see the accompanying picture pages without him having to turn the book every time. Which had been when he'd given her the additional pillows, which he'd placed between them to create a subtle soft barrier so she'd feel more comfortable curling up near him.

He glanced away over his left shoulder towards her semi-circle pillow arrangement around her head and shoulders. She'd not added any commentary for a short while now, but he wasn't fooled. Repeatedly he'd heard her breathing slow and deepen into the early stages of sleep, only for her to clear her throat and shift against her pillow barriers, clearly purposefully waking herself up.

He suspected he understood why, having held his own battles against sleep to delay waiting nightmares. So, he'd just kept reading, keeping his voice low and soft to help ease her into sleep. And had just enjoyed the simple quiet time together, her scent in the air and her soft delicate breathing a background song to his reading.

But he could now see that she'd burrowed further down within her pillow fortification, just the ends of her black hair visible in the lamplight. Her breathing sounded gentle and deep, and there was no comment at his having stopped reading out loud.

Good, she'd finally surrendered to her much needed rest, and he needed some of his own.

Moving carefully and quietly, he reached out over Raven towards the corner lamp glowing low behind her. He tapped it into darkness and withdrew his arm without her stirring. Sitting up slowly, he closed the storybook and carefully set it gently down on the stack of his other reading books. Then, still moving with as little noise as possible, he rolled forward onto his knees and stretched out towards the lamp stood in the cabin's doorway, and triggered it dark. That left just the lamp in the corner by his books.

Settling back to the mattress, he gently shifted his own pillows round for sleep and pulled the upper edge of his two duvets up over his chest. He'd given the third duvet to Raven, which she appeared to be well covered by, so he adjusted the last two for his own best comfort.

"I can go back to my cabin," a low sleepy voice uttered from the left.

Not entirely given into sleep then. Typical of her; always fighting everything.

"Sleep, Raven," he told her softly.

"O-kay," was her simple sleepy reply.

He smiled, pleased she felt comfortable staying, so he reached to his corner lamp and shut it off.

The cabin dropped into enjoyable darkness and he let out a relaxed sigh as he shifted his gaze to the open cabin door. Outside, the majestic view of the mountaintop glowed in the moonlight and, in the distance, he could hear the warm breeze stir the trees and night birds chirp.

"Where was the worst place you've had to sleep?" Her question arrived through the dark stillness, surprising him.

He contemplated pretending he was already asleep to encourage her to do the same, but he instead considered her question. There were certainly a lot he could choose from, stretching from nights of no sleep, nights spent in swamps, in snow-covered ditches, others forced to sleep in foxholes with dead bodies close by, weapons fire blazing constantly and unpredictably in the distance, or those times hidden on Wraith ships waiting on potential discovery at any moment...

Though there were actually two top contenders, which surprised him.

The very worse had been that first night he could remember in the Healing Bay after Ugun had fallen; his face burnt and ablaze, and his heart shattered to know that he was the last of his people. But the other time...

"One of the most memorable," he told her quietly, " was when I was aboard a Fleet Ship after we'd stopped a culling on a small planet. Our ship had taken on hundreds of injured civilians and had been about to jump away, when a Hive and tons of Cruisers dropped out of hyperspace, stopping our retreat. The majority of the Fleet had already gone into hyperspace, so we'd been the largest ship left. The top target of Wraith fire. There had been less than a quarter of the Fleet still with us, and the space battle became brutal really quickly."

He adjusted his pillows and shifted his gaze up to the faint moonlit cabin ceiling.

"We took extremely heavy damage, and the Commander and most of the senior crew had been killed with a direct attack on their Central Station. All hands were ordered into escape pods. I got what civilians I could to them, and I ended up in one of the last pods launched before the ship had broken apart. There were about twenty of us crammed into an escape pod designed to hold half that number. Those old pods had unpredictable piloting systems and, seconds after our launch, the pod was hit with debris and ruined any thrust we had left. Fortunately, there had been just enough control to stabilise the pod. I diverted all power to life support and then," he sighed remembering the confined space and the terror-scented sweat and blood in the air. "We just drifted on the edge of that raging space battle. The pod had a large front porthole, so I sat in there on the lip of the window; it gave the civilians more space and I could watch the battle from there."

He shifted his gaze back to the mountain and stars outside.

"I sat in that porthole for hours, watching, waiting for the Wraith to detect us, or debris or stray weapons fire to hit us. At any moment it could have all been over. It was hours of anxious torture, waiting for something to happen. There had been three of us Elite originally on that Fleet Ship, but I was the only one who survived."

He could still vividly remember watching that battle, simultaneously fascinating to watch in terms of strategy and battle tactics, but terrifying.

"Who saved you?" She asked into the quiet.

He smiled at the memory. "The Sythus. She'd been brand new then, just launched, her hull all shiny and new. Pretty much all of the systems inside have been replaced since, and I'd never been onboard until our escape pod was towed inside the bay that day." He took a deep breath and let it

out. "When that sleek hull had appeared, her shadow passing protectively over us, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

Well, most beautiful object, at least.

"And the battle was won over the Wraith?" Raven asked, her voice slightly muffled by both sleepiness and pillows.

"It was," he confirmed. "But we lost several of our most powerful Fleet ships that day, and two Elite Warriors."

Another situation in which he'd been forced into the description of 'sole survivor' of a group.

"Were all the civilians in the pod okay?"

"They were," he nodded. "I learnt afterwards that by sitting in the porthole, where all of them could see me watching the battle, it had comforted them."

"Watching over them."

He let out a tired snort. "Like I could have done anything if we'd been hit by weapons fire. But, the experience reinforced for me the power of an Elite just being seen, even in the face of circumstances in which I'd had absolutely no control."

Raven made a muffled sound that was either a scoff or, perhaps, even a chuckle. "Disguise is equal parts how you look and how you behave," she repeated her earlier comment, though this time with a few sleepy slurs to her words. He was still shocked that she'd actually managed to stay in The Bright Stars Hotel on Aria! In the most secure city on one of the most secure planets in all the Alliance!

Disguise had been what had won that for her, but it was an interesting turn of phrase from her now regarding his role as an Elite.

He'd been taught from his first days as a child Recruit that, as well as kill Wraith, Elite had to be a symbol for civilians and the Military alike. His mentors and tutors throughout his training and early graduation years had pressed upon him the importance of maintaining calm in the face of horrific events, to be the one in control of their actions while everyone else was descending into chaos. Recruits who could not learn that, never graduated.

The point had been proven to him many times over the years, but with those civilians in that escape pod, it had been the first time that he'd realised that he was as much a symbol when he was sat silent and still, just watching a battle over which he'd had no control. For the civilians in there with him, he had been a comforting presence, and they'd all stayed shockingly calm during the long ordeal waiting for rescue.

That an Elite ship had ultimately saved them had probably only added to their faith in the Elite.

"Were you assigned to the Sythus after that?" Raven asked sleepily.

"No, some time later," he answered her simply, deciding not to tell her too much now as it would only keep her awake.

"How much later?"

He smiled into the moonlight framed darkness. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Sleep, Raven."

"I can go back to my cabin," she offered again, but the relaxation in her voice suggested doing so would be challenging.

He decided to stop being subtle about it.

"What are you afraid of in your dreams, Raven?"

There was a heavy silence, but he swore he could feel her mind moving, considering honesty over denial.

He waited to hear which she would choose.

"Falling," she uttered into the darkness.

Ah.

"Falling from orbit in a broken space station," he considered. Yes, he suspected he would have some nightmares about what she'd gone through and he hadn't even been there.

"Not just that," she answered though. "When I was little, I ran away from the Glisi camp, climbed too high up a Guardian Tree and lost my grip."

He frowned as he pictured young Raven going through that.

"Only thing that saved me was a massive snow drift at the foot of the tree."

"Snow spirit," he considered.

She let out a soft snort. "Hardly. I've had a few other...examples of falling and there were no snow spirits that saved me then."

"And now Saoka's station," he nodded as he suppressed a yawn against the back of his hand.

She murmured annoyed agreement from within her pillows.

He frowned at one memory. "This is from the female who I saw backflip her way down a climbing rope," he pointed out. Though, admittedly, he'd first seen her clinging onto the top of that rope beforehand; seen her face her fears, which he'd tested for her by gently swinging the rope. That she'd referenced that event earlier this evening made more sense now.

He wasn't sure why he felt bad about it now, because she'd held onto that rope just fine and faced that fear. She'd been able to know for sure that her grip had been good, and he'd have gotten the crash mat under her in time if she'd fallen.

But a fall was never a nice experience, though it was the impacting afterwards that he hated more.

"Well that was a controlled descent down the rope," she explained of her backflipping madness with more of her usual confident tone.

"Just use that in your dreams then," he suggested.

"Mmm of course it's that simple. Typical Elite," she muttered as he heard her adjusting her pillows to his left.

He rolled his head, but was only able to see the whiter shadow that was the barrier of her pillows in the dark next to him.

"I would have thought there'd be fish in your nightmares," he teased.

There was some indistinct but clearly sharply-toned muttering from beyond the pillows.

"What?" He asked, not hiding his amusement.

He saw the top of her pillows shift and her face came into view above them, catching just enough faint moonlight for him to see her in the dark. "Go to sleep, Oneakka," she ordered him firmly before she disappeared again back behind the pillows.

Sniggering, he rolled his head back to the moonlight ghosting across the cabin ceiling above them. "Okay, Raven."

He turned onto his side, his back to her pillows, and snuggled into the warm space between the duvets and the softly firm floor mattress.

As he started drifting in and out of the first heavy moments of sleep, he was aware that the bedding felt cosily warmer than usual, presumably because of Raven's added body heat. He blinked his eyes open to try to enjoy that fact for a moment, but all too quickly surrendered into the lovely draw of soft comforting sleep.

The last he was aware of was the delicate sound of feminine breathing, the soft rustle of the gentle night breezes stirring the trees outside, and the sweet smell of Raven in the air.

0000

TBC