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Stargate Atlantis: Origins - Episode III

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How many hours had passed? As much as he had stared at the ceiling, a hole should have formed in it by now. Underground, there was no way to tell if it was night or day. The Wraith was restless. Sleep eluded him even though he wished the sweet darkness would overcome him. As he lay on the floor of the cell, Valekon cursed under his breath as he attempted to sit up for the umpteenth time. As strongly as his muscles protested, he tried again and again until finally he managed. Oh, hell, his chest was burning. The human female had healed him well, it seemed. He felt considerably better and the pain was gone. Soreness lingered and his movements were restricted.

How far had he fallen? The years had passed by too slowly for his liking. With every morning and every night, Valekon was sure his men would find him. He was positive the Genii would suffer for doing this to him. Soon, the Wraith realized no one was coming. No one remembered his capture. No one cared enough to rip through the villages to find him. No minds were probed to find him. Not one single subordinate of his looked for him. The proud commander Valekon used to be was all but forgotten.

After evolving with the DNA of the Iratcus bug, the changes were obvious and somewhat beneficial. There was some adaptation but overtime, everything was balanced. The galaxy was perfect before the war started. Well, perhaps perfect was a bit of an overstatement. There were still some tensions here and there between a few of the Wraiths. Usually the males got alone quite fine; it was mainly the females who argued. The best word to suit the circumstance was harmonious. There was no fighting, except for many a brawl concerning a spat. Disagreements were common among all species. Yet, somehow, their kind had been singled out as dangerous and murderous. Valekon never quite understood this when he was very young.

Life everywhere had to eat to survive.

It was ironic the humans blamed the Wraith for the war when the Ancients were the ones who launched the first attack. Even though it was long ago, Valekon still remember the fateful day clearly. When the Lanteans arrived at his once thriving home planet, everything he loved was lost. It was lush and absolutely beautiful. The bright star provided light and the three moons was a marvelous wonder at night. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the memory. Since it was so long ago, Valekon was afraid he had forgotten what his planet looked liked.

The planet of the Wraith was called Wravllan. Having a matriarch society, there were three ruling sisters; Eseera, Jezimol, and Yisfahr. High Queen Eseera, his mother, was the eldest. She was the wisest and the smartest of the three. Strategy and knowledge were the two important aspects in her ruling. The middle sister, Jezimol, possessed a knack for stealth and fighting; both defensive and offensive. Advising the community on hunting and tactics along with Eseera, she was known for being fearless. Yisfahr, however, the youngest sister, was cunning and manipulative. Cruelness flowed through the blood in her veins. Beautiful and malicious, Yisfahr was not above using her powerful mind hold to get what she wanted.

His father, Vul’karlairis, was one of Queen Eseera’s mates. Chosen because he was loyal and trustworthy, Vul’karlairis was High Commander. The other was Margxar, the father of his half brother, Methuselah. As a brilliant genius, Margxar was the Wraith who coined the formula and grew the organic matter for the hives. Jezimol and Yisfahr also chose suitable mates. While sometimes there were disagreements between the sister siblings, the three never allowed disruption among their people. The prosperity of their subjects was always the first matter at hand.

There were hives growing on the ground. It was a simple layout, less complex than the ships. Close knit families lived in these. Schools were built and the children were taught the motto of the Wraith. It was not as straightforward back then. It was not the will to survive, but the drive for improvement. Starting out as an underdeveloped society was not easy. There were certain limits and cautions to be taken. Hunting the wildlife on the planet, careful steps were initiated. An adequate food source could not be overhunted.

Once the ships were installed with hyper drives, it was time to find other resources to aid their ever growing species. Seeking adequate life on other planets, the newly advanced ships stumbled upon an overpopulated human colony. The planet was running out of resources to support all of them. It could not hold much more. After feeding on some the human beings, the Wraith realized exactly how much sustenance mankind provided. One could go days without having to feed. No more would their kind have to worry about food. The Wraith did not realize these humans were the Lanteans’ most precious creation. He supposed that was when the first mistake was made.

Some weeks later, a huge Lantean ship hovered above their capital city of Seeror. What used to be a mere caveman-like culture had grown into a thriving settlement. There were several cities and many more developing. A bright, blue beam had suddenly appeared from the clouds. As it struck the ground, explosions occurred. The earth shifted under their feet and liquid fire erupted forth. Mass panic ensured. There was destruction everywhere.

The day was forever ingrained in his mind. Many lives were lost. Flames coated their homes and swarmed the green forests. The Lantean ships covered the sky and rained down attacks without any mercy. It was something out of a nightmare. Their creators were now their destroyers. He and his brother had just celebrated their thousandth year.

Luckily, the newly formed hive ships had just taken to the skies nearly a year before the chaos began. An entire fleet, consisting over one hundred thousand Wraith, was exploring the galaxy, trying to find other planets with life. The queens deemed since the Lanteans created them, there must be others. It was simple logic. Using the remaining hive ships on the planet, Valekon and Methuselah managed to escape with several others. The last of the elder sister’s line, High Queen Eseera, resided in them.

And to think it was their slacking from studies that saved them. The brothers had been out in the forest that fateful day. Skipping morning classes, Valekon and Methuselah decided to go hunting instead. Of course, their mother would be mad later, but it was worth it. Besides, some free time could not hurt every now and then. Methuselah was determined to strike down a prey which had eluded one of his traps. It was organic webbing, designed to hold the prey in place until the hunter could collect it. He was about to deliver the final blow when the blue light’s illumination distracted them.

Soon, Methuselah and Valekon were on the front lines. Commanding two powerful hive ships, the brothers took guidance from a terrible Wraith queen named Basilka. She was the daughter of Yisfahr, the most temperamental of the former sisters. Her malice was unmatched. Valekon was in charge of ship diagnostics and functions while Methuselah strategized the attack formation plans. Soon, the brothers’ formidable reputation spread throughout the hives. All the battles fought were won. The war was nearly over when Methuselah’s hive ship was badly damaged.

Sections of the hive ship were falling apart. From his post, Valekon felt his heart clench in dread. He wanted to save his brother and the others. His brother was the only family he had left. Basilka would not allow a rescue when there were still more Lantean ships to destroy. Intending to defy the queen’s orders, he was halted. Queen Basilka was as stealthy as she was malevolent. The queen had practiced mind control over the years and now was an expert at the art. There was nothing Valkeon could do because of her strong mind hold used to make him obey. Evidently, Basilka took after her vindictive mother quite well.

He could only watch as the hive ship his brother commanded descended and crashed into a nearby planet. With his parents and brother dead, he was truly alone in the world. Filled with hatred, Valekon strayed from the command of the queen. She had forgotten the rules of the elders. No longer was she thinking of her people, only revenge against the Lanteans. Barely batting an eye when she sacrificed lives, Valekon could ignore it no longer. Blaming her for Methuselah’s demise, he killed the queen once he had the upper hand.

With Basilka dead, Valekon used her remaining resources to build a hive of his own after the war was complete. Seeing some of the Lanteans avoided genocide, he would not rest until the remaining was dead. He avoided contact with the other young Wraith queens for the time being, not sure how they would react to him killing his matriarch. Thousands of years passed, and Valekon immersed himself in research, trying to find a way to trace the Lanteans. Becoming obsessed with the relics left behind, he knew the Lanteans would return sometime. If the creators had not of started the war, his brother would still be alive. They would pay.

Weaponry was advanced shortly. Hive ships grew larger with fresh organic material. Darts were constructed for scouting habitable environments. Technology was continuously progressed and improved. Wraith numbers increased and the number of planets with humans was marked for cullings. Experimentation was completed to find other sustainable food sources, forming drones, and meld stronger mind links. Worshippers were taken as an inside source to spy on human settlements and for other purposes. Having acquaintances outside his hive on other queens’ ships, Valekon used whatever knowledge to his advantage. For years on end, he searched and failed to find any trace of Lanteans.

Unfortunately, civil war broke out among the queens seven hundred years after the end of the Lantean war. Keeping his hive ships out of the mess was difficult enough. He managed to elude a battle for quite some time. However, all good streaks of luck came to an end. In a fight against an opposing hive, Valekon had to abandon one of his ships. While trying to flee with his subordinates, his dart was knocked by a piece of debris from the crackling hive ship. Spiraling downward, he crash landed on the Genii planet, alive but unconscious. Thus began the dreadful start of his captivity. The Wraith commander awoke in a cell, arms chained with his feeding hand covered.

Here he resided in a filthy cell with a favorite of the Lanteans. Fate sure did love to taunt him. The Ali’quedians were always favored by the creators for being in touch with nature and keeping balance. Valekon vaguely recalled an attempted culling on Lor’shaska’s home planet, eons ago. It was never truly successful with the way the gifted humans defended against the attacks. Harnessing pure energy was a power to be reckoned with by any species. Damn humans, how he loathed them.

However, what bothered Valekon the most was how quickly he trusted Lor’shaska with his very life. Blaming fatigue and a mind clouded from pain, the Wraith knew he was only making excuses for himself. The very thought nagged at him consistently in his head. Humans, male or female, were lower than the dirt on planets and not worthy to breathe the air. Mankind was food, like mere cattle. Worshippers, loyal and useful as some may be, were no exception to this rule. The question lingered of how this failed to come to mind. Since he was dying at the time, Valekon dismissed it as a desperate attempt to survive. After all, survival was the driving force behind all Wraith.

Stealing a glance at the female in the corner, Lor’shaska had fallen asleep hugging her knees. Her head was resting against the wall. Dark rings were forming under her eyes. He honestly did not know how she could slumber knowing he was right there beside her, but exhaustion took its toll whether one was prepared or not. Weariness was a familiar friend of his since his capture. Sometimes, it was too tiring to walk and the guards literally dragged him from place to place, either to be tortured or to torture. How many times had he been moved from compound to compound?

Either way, one fact was certain.

The woman was more valuable and useful to Valekon alive than as food. The energy from the healing was nothing short of a feeling of ecstasy. It felt better than a feeding. If escaping was even possible, then there was a slight chance he could bring the woman back to his hive. There she could serve him as a worshipper, possibly a companion. The Wraith would not deny Lor’shaska was rather fetching for a human female. The brief glimpse into her thoughts allowed Valekon to know her stubbornness rivaled his own. It was somewhat entertaining as much as it was annoying. With her talent, it would lessen the need for human cullings and put his hive at an advantage. If there was more like her somewhere, more of the Sláinte people, what a wonderful lead he would have!

Frowning, Valekon thought it would be rather dishonorable of him to enslave her after she saved him. What should he care though? Beneficial or not, Lor’shaska was still human. Her opinion should not matter. Conflicted, the hive commander silenced his train of thought. It would be pointless to argue with himself. He would figure this dilemma out later. Rubbing his forehead, Valekon muttered quietly. Calculations had to be done of the probability of getting out alive… with the girl even though a throbbing persisted in his head. Her brother was a lost cause if the Genii did not receive the desired information from him.

A sharp pain abruptly exploded throughout his chest. Coughing, Valekon groaned loudly as he clutched at his heart. Gritting his teeth, he tried to suppress a gasp of agony. It felt like he was breathing liquid fire. Hacking, the Wraith covered his mouth with his hand. His expression turned to one of horror as he looked at his palm. It was splattered with blood! What was happening? He was fine just a moment ago!

Jerking awake, Lor’shaska instantly leapt to her feet, ready to fight. The Genii, her brother, the Wraith, all of the recent memories flashed through her mind in an instant. Slightly dizzy, she placed one hand on the wall to steady herself. Nostrils flared and pupils dilated, the surge of adrenaline halted when she noticed the Wraith. He was the one making the noise. Oh, did she not tell him to rest?! Were all men this bad when it came to listening, not just human males?

Valekon heard the rustling of fabric and looked over his shoulder.

“I thought I told you to rest!” Lor’shaska exclaimed exasperatedly as she started to kneel down and then saw the blood. That was definitely not a good sign. If the Wraith was not fully healed, then he could not aid her in escaping, especially if her brother was injured. Plopping on her knees in front of him, she started undoing his attire.

And then his hand grasped her wrist.

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Lor’shaska thought she was dead meat for a moment until she realized it was not his feeding hand. Strangely enough, his touch was warm instead of cold like she expected it to be. The hand of death, per se, was under lock and key thanks to a metal brace. A sneaking suspicion told her Valekon did such on purpose to scare her. Wraiths did have a dark sense of humor. Oh, the audacity, he was grinning!

“Feeding on you would be a regrettable form of thanks, would it not?”

And now, he was teasing her!

“Be glad you are still recovering or I would have punched you.” She added with a glare, “I still might later.”

“That is an empty threat, Lor’shaska.” Valekon stated bluntly before he started coughing again, wheezing after the bout had passed.

“We’ll see if it is or not.” She grumbled, not wanting to argue, “And tell me where it hurts.”

“Breathing… is difficult.” The Wraith answered as he removed his robe with a grunt. He allowed the clothing to crumple at his sides. With a clawed finger, he pointed to his chest and said, “Like I am inhaling fire and exhaling smoke.”

Examining his chest, Lor’shaska did not see any bruising. The healing should have taken care of most of the major damage. It was possible he irritated the internal healing process by moving. Or perhaps, it was blood coming upward which had settled in his lungs. No, it would not cause such drastic wheezing. Lightly tracing over his ribs, she did not feel anything abnormal. Nothing was jutting outward or inward in his body. What was causing the Wraith such pain?

Moving around to his back, the lady then observed his skin before placing her hands on his tattooed flesh. It was difficult to explain but she could ‘see’ the injury better if she touched him. Running her hands downward, Valekon gave a low hiss when Lor’shaska reached the end of his ribs. She was freely touching him without limitations. Any other human who dared to do such a thing would lose a hand. What a blow to his reputation… if any other Wraith should ever come to know. Shuddering, he bit his lip to keep from growling. The ache was radiating from underneath the end of his ribcage.

He inhaled sharply, “There… the pain is from there.”

Pressing against the area carefully, Lor’shaska noted Valekon’s claws scratching the floor as he snarled. A floating rib was pressing against his lung. Feeling guilty, the lady did not have enough energy the first time to heal everything entirely. It happened every now and then; nonetheless the remorse was never avoided. She was not fully Sláinte, therefore could not completely heal everything. The Wraith’s body was taxed from the beating and starvation which caused his regenerating ability to be slower than usual. He jolted horribly when the energy was forced into his body.

“Be still… deep breath.” Lor’shaska coaxed him rather smoothly, “Breathe slowly and steadily.”

It was easier said than done. Each breath caused another wave of fiery throbbing but it slowly subsided. Gradually, the pain started to fade. Hot lava racing through his lungs was soothed by cool water. Infuriated, the Wraith wondered if his healing ability was impeded because of his lack of feeding. It would explain why the rest of the internal damage did not heal on its own. Even though Lor’shaska had healed him, Valekon needed more energy; an entire life force. How he hated feeling like an invalid. Weakness was to never be shown.

Removing her hands from his skin, Lor’shaska grimaced slightly. She knew this was going to happen and expected it. The throbbing shot through her palms up to her elbows in sharp jolts. Valekon’s sensitive ears heard the tiny cringe. Glancing at her petite hands, the Wraith saw how the skin was shriveled. It appeared the healing had a negative effect like the feeding did on humans. The flesh on her hands looked like such of an old woman’s. Odd, this did not happen the first time. Something was different.

“You overexerted yourself.” He stated.

She nodded.

“If I was fully Sláinte, it would not be so difficult.” Lor’shaska sighed more so in irritation than she did in pain. Flexing her fingers, she began to massage her hands. “Harnessing energy is one thing, but having the actual energy to do so is another. If I don’t have enough stored, it takes some of my own.”

This was new knowledge to the Wraith. Her ability to heal was rare and exceedingly useful, but it appeared even she had limits. He supposed this was because Lor’shaska was only half, not full Sláinte. Speculating whether her Ali’quedian blood was thicker than her Sláinte, or vice versa, Valekon wondered what other characteristics the woman possessed besides the healing skill. Sláintes, as far as he knew, did not have restrictions or bad side effects with the power of healing. Longevity was part of their normalcy. Illness and disease were uncommon in their culture. Usually, Sláintes died from old age; losing the ability to control energy.

“A gift and a curse.” The Wraith mused dryly.

“I suppose that’s one way you could look at it.” Lor’shaska shrugged her shoulders. “What energy I have left I have to save for my brother. There’s no telling what kind of state he might be in when the Genii bring him back.”
“You are assuming he is still alive.”

The royal lady shot the alien a dirty glare.

“Wysen’urth is alive.”

Valekon snorted.

“As you say.”

“You’re very negative; a pessimist.” She pointed out to the Wraith.

“Says the optimist who hasn’t been caged in a cell for who knows how many decades.” Valekon grumbled as he buttoned his trench coat, “You are a mere child who has not yet learned there most certainly is a darker side to all things.”

“I am not a child!” Lor’shaska huffed, feeling insulted, “I am nearly twenty years.”

The Wraith glanced at her with a blank expression.

“Compared to me, you are a child.”

“Excuse me, mister gloomy, we’re different races, my kind doesn’t live to thousands of years; I’m considered an adult.”

His upper lip twitched at the nickname she presented to him.

“I will have to talk to your brother about his influence upon you.” Valekon stated, “You are indeed, most insufferable.”

The royal woman merely smirked.

“So that’s my moniker, huh? Insufferable.”

“Would you prefer a more commonly used human term pertaining to a female dog?”

“If you call me that name, I will hit you.” Lor’shaska retorted, waving her fist almost in a playful manner.

“I thought you did not strike the injured.” Valekon teased.

“You’re not injured anymore, smart ass.”

Chuckling, the Wraith noted the female was quite adept at comebacks.

Looking at the locks on his wrists, he wondered if the girl could pick them. Earning her trust, however, would be the tricky part. While she was not a fool, the female was compassionate and he would use that to his advantage. The Wraith commander did not wish to spend the remainder of his life trapped in the clutches of the Genii. Too long he had been beaten near death and starved. He was tired of being a slave to these twisted humans. Considering the possibility of an escape was imprudent to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Analyzing the current situation, Valekon needed a team effort. Wysen’urth would more than likely be baggage if he was injured. If for some reason he was able to fight, it would be an added force to escaping. Lor’shaska was weak from healing him though she was too valuable to leave behind.  If he managed to flee with her, she would be a commendable worshipper on his hive ship. No, a worshipper was too low a status for a talented human like herself. The woman would become his personal companion. Other female humans were too afraid of him. This one showed spirit and true grit. The Ali’quedians would believe the Genii hid away her body somewhere after killing her and would be none the wiser.

“The guards will return soon,” The Wraith told Lor’shaska as he motioned to the locks on his wrists, “and we will have to be ready. I need you to pick these.”
Her expression displayed disbelief.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Why would I be jesting at a time like this?” He retorted impatiently.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“And what guarantee do I have that you won’t feed on me?”

The Wraith scoffed.

“You really think I will feed upon you after you’ve saved me from suffering?” He sounded insulted by her accusation, “I do possess honor.”

“I suppose I don’t have a choice if I want to get out of here, huh?” Lor’shaska said as she pulled the pins from her hair wrap.

“Not unless you just enjoy prison cells and my company.” Valekon retorted rather dryly as he held up his wrists.

Using the pins, Lor’shaska skillfully tried to pick the locks. Maybe her sneaky brothers did teach her something handy after all.  The pins were too small to pick the cell locks, but perhaps the Wraith could help with that problem. If she froze water around a weak point in the poles, he could break one. Maybe if she expanded the ice just enough in the crack, the metal would waiver in strength. She did not have the brute strength to do so, but Valekon could probably snap it easily.

While she concentrated, the lady tried not to think about how close she was to the Wraith’s face. Lor’shaska could feel his breath lightly against her cheek. Why did Valekon have to stare at her so intensely? Honestly, the lady was not sure whether or not to be flattered or uneasy. As the lock on his left arm clicked, she removed it carefully. The flesh around his wrists was severely bruised by the metal. The right restraint was easier to do, though she was still hesitant about this whole situation. Was it possible to trust a Wraith?

“What’s your plan?” Lor’shaska asked Valekon with a shaky breath, slowly slipping off the steel confinement around the feeding slit.

“After we break out of the cell, there are three levels to this underground base.” The Wraith rubbed his wrists and then walked over to the bars, “On the top floor, there’s a ladder leading to the surface. Slipping past the guards is going to be the tricky part. I trust you will be ready to fight if necessary.”

“And how do you know all this?”

The Wraith smirked.

“Not too hard to read minds when you’re looking for a way to escape.” He motioned to pole with a large section of rust, “I would say this one would be your best bet.”

“You were reading my mind again.” Lor’shaska crossed her arms, not at all pleased.

“Considering how loud you were thinking, it wasn’t all that hard to do so.” Valekon retorted with a snarky tone.

“Then you also know I am not leaving without Wysen’urth.”

The commander knew this would be a problem. The corner of his lip twitched slightly from frustration, but he remained expressionless for the time being. Lor’shaska and Wysen’urth had a very close and strong bond as siblings. The girl wanted to stay to find her brother. The Wraith wondered if he was even alive. It was possible the Genii could have killed him by now. Since Wysen’urth was a dead end, the men should then assume Lor’shaska would not surrender the history of the Ali’quedians either. Valkeon almost shuddered to think of the torture the soldiers would put the woman through for the information. No, he would take her with him and not leave her to such a fate.

“We will find your brother on the way out of the compound.” He lied, and then motioned to the cell door, “The bars, if you please.”

Well, at least the Wraith was polite enough to say please. Lor’shaska supposed that was as good as it was going to get with his kind. Using the water leaking from the ceiling, the lady ran it down the pole into the rusted cracks. Controlling the water was different from turning it into ice. Putting emotion into the movements and formations was the key to manipulating any element. Gritting her teeth, Lor’shaska was able to freeze the water and expand it further and further. The metal strained against the pressure emitting a loud creak. The ice returned to its liquid state, trickling down the pipe.

“Your turn.”

Since Lor’shaska had healed him, Valekon now possessed his inhuman strength. At long last, he was able to feel like a true commander once again. No longer was he the pathetic, chained pet, waiting for the next beating. The gods had smiled upon him today and he would flee with Lor’shaska, his soon-to-be companion. While he was still taxed and trying to recover, escaping was more important than resting as of the moment. This rare chance would probably never present itself again. What human would ever dare to trust him? Grasping the bars, he was easily able to snap the rusted and weakened metal. A growl emitted from his throat as he did so, tossing the pieces to the side.

Stepping through the hole, Valekon then offered his hand to Lor’shaka. The lady looked hesitant if but for a moment. There in the palm was his feeding slit. The Ali’quedian princess half expected to feel the fangs creeping out over her flesh if she touched it. Telling herself she was being silly, the woman grasped his hand. He trusted her so she had to do the same, even if it was a bit difficult to do so. If the Wraith wanted to feed on her then he would have already done it when she first removed the restraints.

Feeling her hesitation almost made Valekon chuckle. He couldn’t laugh at her, she might freeze him. While her power was still slightly underdeveloped, Lor’shaska was proving more and more to be quite a valuable asset. Yes, the other commanders would be envious of the precious part Sláinte and Ali’quedian at his side. Her healing ability would be his triumph card and her manipulation skills with water would be a wondrous defense. At first, she would probably hate him and curse his name. Time would change her mind. The woman would grow to enjoy her newfound status. She would learn to adore his name. It would be nice to have such a unique pet.

“So… which way?”
The Wraith has plans for Lor'shaska once the two of them escape from the Genii prison. With Lor'shaska oblivious of this plot, she and Valekon come to terms to find her brother (so she thinks) and flee the compound. Is Wysen'urth alive? And will Valekon change his colors?
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