HONOR--An Atlantis scientist meets the Wraiths. Up close.

[Sevenofnine]

ooh so sorry - but I know what you mean about the tranquilizers - phew - definitely need a cold shower after it. Todd certainly showed Ronon and Mckay.
Now, you need to concentrate on your story and forget about shark teeth.

[Norvely]

^_^ hello all. I have been watching this thread since christmas and just never registered to say hey. so...hey! This thread is awesome and I absolultly love the story. The gutter-drive is nice too ^^. I have started my own fic but I did want to tell you T64 that this fic did inspire me so *praise and homage...lots of chocolate gifts*. Please continue this fanfic! I'm waiting...somewhat patiently...running out of ice cream as I reread Isolde's fic....dieing of lack of wraith hot gutter-driven goodness. *sends starbucks mocha goodness and pictures of todd for the undercarriage*.
http://http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4.../1/Naming_Fate

[Traveler64]

^_^ hello all. I have been watching this thread since christmas and just never registered to say hey. so...hey! This thread is awesome and I absolultly love the story. The gutter-drive is nice too ^^. I have started my own fic but I did want to tell you T64 that this fic did inspire me so *praise and homage...lots of chocolate gifts*. Please continue this fanfic! I'm waiting...somewhat patiently...running out of ice cream as I reread Isolde's fic....dieing of lack of wraith hot gutter-driven goodness. *sends starbucks mocha goodness and pictures of todd for the undercarriage*.
http://http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4.../1/Naming_Fate

Well, hello Norvely, and WELCOME! Glad you joined us and that you are enjoying the story. Looking back, I can't even remember why and how I started it, but I've been having great fun. It has been transformed into a very special experience by all who have read it and have taken the time to comment and give me ideas and sanity checks. But, when what I write makes someone to start writing, well, that is VERY special and makes me feel that I have accomplished something. I am humbled, really.

I will go to your site and will read. I am really, really curious and excited to see what you are writing.

And now, there is a door prize for you--you didn't know that, did you?

NEW EPISODES! TONIGHT! HERE! NOW!

Once again, welcome, and I hope you enjoy the rest of it. ***walks away slurping Starbuck mocha goodness and munching on chocolates, keeping eye on the gutter.***

[masterling]

ugh! T your killn me! i want to stay up to read your new epis but sleep calls me. I'll check back in the am, and will keep my fingers crossed. I cant wait to see what you have in store for us next!
nite, qand sweet wraithie dreams!

[Traveler64]

Here it is! New episodes! I ended up writing a lot more than I expected--10000 words to be exact and this darn thing only takes 2000 words per post. So... brace yourselves! In the immortal words of Betty Davis--put on your sitbelts. It's going to be a bumpy night.

Spoiler:

“Understandable.” He leaned forward. “Oh,” he purred, “you will change your mind, Elena Vries.” He put his right hand softly on my chest. I felt the opening in his palm shift moistly against my skin. Before I could step back—not that I felt a great urge to do so—he took his hand away. “Soon, Elena Vries, you will no longer be called Elena Vries.”


###


When I entered the twisted halls and corridors of the hive I was struck by the silence. I’ve always been aware of it—unlike human spaceships, there was no metal structure and outer skin through which the hum of the machinery to travel. Also lacking was that din and echo of voices characteristic of human habitation. On a hiveship, even the human contingency—the worshippers--had learned to use their voice minimally, using instead a system of hand signals, like monks in a cloister.

But this time the silence seemed deeper, like a concealing cloak, going beyond the missing hum of machinery and din of voices. I had expected to feel or sense something in my mind from my Amber Wraith. But, he was silent. My escort—Lothar and Siegfried—was equally silent; not just that they said nothing; but they were not even looking at me. The Ghost Wraith, or the Blue Wraith as I had come to identify him, had vanished into the depth of the hive when we have disembarked, and even he, vocal as he was, had done so without a word. The two worshippers who walked in my wake, were like ghosts and I did not welcome their presence. As we advanced into the heart of the hiveship, even Siegfried and Lothar went in different directions, acknowledging me with only a sharp incline of their white haired head, their blue eyes flicking only for a second at me.

The two female worshippers took me to a great alcove-like chamber, high up the wall of the funnel-like great hall rising in a spiral of such alcoves. A clever screen of opaque and transparent amber provided me with privacy, yet allowed me to see out. The chamber—or rather a suite of alcoves embedded into the structure of the hive—had as its center a bench with arms set upon a dais, screens of liquid light behind it. It was almost like a queen’s throne; it was certainly more elaborate than the one I had seen in the Commander’s alcove when I had first entered the hive; oh, so long ago…

In a side alcove was what I would describe as my bedroom, a large, four post bed enthroned in its middle, rich brocade hangings enclosing it. I wondered from where this had been culled. Wraith did not sleep in such contraptions; it had been placed there for me. And that was the only sign I had that someone on that hive paid attention to me and my needs with a degree of care not given others. Other than the two worshippers who appeared and vanished at various intervals, bringing me either fresh linen and clothing, or food, or providing for my bath, no one else came and I had not means of measuring time; their appearances was the only way I had to quantify and gauge the passage of time.

And time passed in that silence, perched in that alcove high above the floor of the hall, a winding staircase leading down. I sat on that bench and my thoughts turned and twisted into a rope from which I hung tenaciously, but wondering whether my sanity was slipping. The rhythm of the worshippers’ appearance became cyclical—drawing open the curtains of the bed, tray of a hot flavorful liquid and fruit, assistance with my bath and dressing; more food a while later; a dimming of lights as they appeared again, with more food; and then preparations for bed; as they closed the curtains of my bed, I counted what I now considered another day; whether it was a 24 hour Earth day, or the day of an immortal Wraith, I did not know.

I missed human presence—the worshippers somehow did not fulfill that role. I did miss Moira, though. Over time she had become something beyond the dysfunctional humans that were the Wraith worshippers, drugged and twisted by the Gift of the Worshippers injected in their bloodstream and their psychic every time they were ‘rewarded’ or ‘punished’ by their masters. I distrusted them and I disliked them profoundly; I did not know if it was with the dislike of the Latean or of the Wraith. It was really disdain. If I had ever felt compassion or pity for the creatures, none was left. But, I missed Moira…

Only once I addressed them to ask from where my food was coming. I looked at them hard, conveying that I would not tolerate a snarky answer. The older of the two bowed and answered, with no hint of hostility in her voice: “The Wraith masters bring it for you, my lady, from their travels.” I half expected for her to add ‘while we forage for ours’, and ‘we would not get such fine fare as you,’, but she fell silent and moved away.

Other than the faceless female worshippers, no one came to me and no one called. Even the hall around me was silent and empty. I never did see a Wraith. I realized that my solitude was becoming pathetic loneliness when I started to wish for the presence of even a drone.

But, the unspoken reality was that I missed terribly the presence of one Wraith—my Amber Wraith. My heart shriveled into a small nugget of painful fire as I thought of his absence, of how I was there because of him, isolated and alone. He had sent the transport to take me back to the hive. Yet, he had not called for me, had not come, had not sent even a word. Perhaps it was not the way of the Wraith. They called, summoned and commanded worshippers. I was not one. Perhaps, I was considered an equal and therefore I was supposed to go to him and seek him out. Perhaps he did consider me the equivalent of a Queen, and he expected that I summon him. But my human female ‘pride’ would not allow me any of those options. I sat on my throne stubbornly and started to seethe like a jilted bride; and pout.

In that state of twirling thoughts and circular discourse, one ‘night’ while still in my bed, having tossed and turned among the dark sheets—the Wraith had a definite liking for black--I touched one of the amber columns embedded in the wall behind the headboard. For days, every time I had done this, there had been no answer, no vibration, no flash of colors or scents in my mind. The ship was silent at many levels. I started to worry and then panic with the thought that the Amber Wraith was dead. As a matter of fact, I was beginning to believe that the silence was due to his death. It had been part of my agreement with the Blue Wraith that he would take the place of my Wraith and allow him to heal. It was a tricky and dangerous operation, the Blue Wraith had assured me with his usual propensity for drama. Whether the substitution had happened in the first place, I have had no hint of it. Whether the Amber Wraith had survived it, or whether he was healing, or whether he was dead, nothing around me, not even the behavior of the worshippers, provided any indication. I kept touching the column behind my bed and it was silent, cold and inert. I sunk deeper in the dark funnel of doubts and fears/ The Blue Wraith would’ve answered my touch. He was outrageous enough to have tried more, as I lay in my bed surrounded by the hiveship.

This night, as every other night, the amber under my touch was cold and dark.

I parted the curtains and got out of bed, the thin nightgown of black silk—or something akin to silk—no protection against the sudden cold I felt around me. Soft mist rose from the floor and caressed my ankles, wisps of it, like fingers, fluttering up my legs.

I stopped halfway through the alcove. <I>Is that you, you dirty old Wraith?</I> While normally I would’ve been primly shocked by such an action, this time I eagerly hoped it was the Blue Wraith.

But, there was no answer. The mist drifted around the floor without life.

I took my leather coat given to me—and obviously tailored for my size and put it on my shoulders. For all its massive look, the leather was thin and supple and strangely light. I stared in front of me, and wished for a window. I stared into the hall and wished for sound. Suddenly, I wanted music, fresh air, the sun and the sky. I touched the wall where I would’ve liked to have a window and traced the filigree of amber with the tip of my fingers. “Today,” I said aloud, “I am going to search for you and find you.” Did I feel a small shiver under my hand? I spread out my fingers and flattened my right palm on the surface, trying to absorb a sign of any life underneath the surface.

I sensed someone staring at my back. I whipped around with almost Wraith-like sharpness. quickly.

The two female worshippers were standing behind me, one holding a tray with the steaming food, the other carrying on her arms a new outfit of golden leather. I wondered if they were here out of turn or it just happened to be the time for them to awaken me and assist me in dressing—the Wraith system of fastening the outfit did require assistance. I rather believed the latter.

Wordlessly, as always, they helped me shed the nightgown, which as always they took away to bring a fresh one later, they triggered that blue cone of light that was the Wraith very pleasant, if not delightful, form of bathing and then with soft sheets they wrapped me, served me the food, waited until I was finished and then dressed me. They left silently with the old clothes and trays of empty dishes, and I sat down again and stared at the wall.

A soft rustle to my left made me turn on my bench. It was not time for the worshippers to return, unless time was slipping away from me; it had not sounded like a worshipper.

The taller and more massive of the blue eyed twins stood on the landing of the staircase leading to my alcove.

Lothar.

[Traveler64]

HONOR, EPISODE 55

Spoiler:

I have come to recognize the larger form of the future Ship Wraith, as opposed to the still very tall but more lithe and thinner Siegfried.

He inclined his head lightly and took a few steps towards me. But then he circled around and retraced his steps back to the landing of the staircase. Strangely, I felt that his sudden appearance was a social one; there was something gracious in his manner; or rather it lacked the usual Wraith aggressiveness, one that was always there even when the intent was not one of violence.

“I am pleased that you have come,” I said and stood up, trying to sound Wraith formal while conveying my gladness. He inclined his head again in acknowledgement. “I have not seen many Wraith; actually I’ve seen none since I’ve arrived on the hive.”

Suddenly, a ribbon of my Wraith’s colors and the feel of the scents and sounds associated with his name passed through my mind. <I>How is he?</I>

Lothar did not answer; or if he did, I did not hear it. Instead I felt the presence of the Blue Wraith in my mind. I let out a sigh. At least the Blue Wraith was around; and he had to be inside the ship if he could speak to me like that.

I flinched, startled by the move of Lothar’s fingers, so rapid that they seemed blurred, and by the metallic flash of a long, serrated Wraith dagger in his hands. As I caught my breath, he bowed his head, and in an offering gesture, he held the dagger across his open palms. It was a stealth object of death, the blade shimmering with swirls of darker metal and the handle encrusted with blue amber. “Keep it always ready in the sheath of your sleeve,” he said very softly, a hiss in his voice.

I fingered my leather sleeve studded with metal. There was a sheath there.

I put out my hand and gingerly took the dagger by the hilt. It was heavy in my hand, the feel of the amber and metal in my grip unexpectedly pleasurable. It felt curiously alive, as if it were a cat I was stroking. There was something comfortable and reassuring in its deadly beauty.

I slipped it in the sheath hidden in the sleeve of my left arm. Lothar bowed slightly, turned around with that startling leaping speed of the Wraith and walked away, down the stairs. I watched him cross the floor below and meld into the shadows and colors of the walls. I felt the dagger in my sleeve like one would something dormant, but alive.

After pondering for a few minutes, I concluded that it all came together to convince me to leave my self imposed prison and wander through the hive. There was suddenly a feeling of curiosity, of delectable anticipation of discoveries; but above all the very delicious anticipation of an encounter with my Wraith. I was not sure, perhaps just an impression, the illusions of mind left alone for too long, but I thought I could discern a vague blue glow at my feet that seemed to trace a path for me to follow.

I crossed the floor of the hall, oddly enough following Lothar’s steps and entered one of the wider corridors that opened into a series of chambers filled with shadowy columns of translucent of glowing light intertwined with that amber like material. A bluish mist swirled around my ankles, feeling strangely cold. The floor beneath my feet continued to glow faintly with a blue shimmer, barely visible under the blanket of cold fog.

The procession of corridors and chambers with translucent walls and amber snaking up columns like wrought iron seemed aimless, without direction or purpose, coming from nowhere and leading nowhere, endlessly branching off into the body of the hive.

I slowed down my step as I thought I heard a voice. I listened.

More than one voice. Several.

They were human voices, speaking quietly, casually. I could make out a woman’s voice, then a man’s, then another woman’s voice. There were other noises in the background that I recognized as the clatter of domestic work. I turned in the direction of the voices aware that the blue glow was pointing elsewhere. I hesitated, as the glow got stronger, but did not follow it. Instead, I started to walk in the direction of the voices. Perhaps it was my loneliness for a humanity; my loneliness for any humanity, even the mutated presence of worshippers.

When I stepped over the threshold of the large chamber with drab walls and dark columns, the only light being offered by a luminous circle high in the ceiling, the owners of the voices—indeed a group of worshippers working at long tables—stopped whatever they were doing in mid-gesture, falling silent. With the self-effacing and completely unobtrusive manner I have noticed them use in the presence of the Wraith, they retreated towards the far side of the room, keeping their eye on me; not on my face but a general, veiled look in my general direction, both defensive and anticipatory. When they reached the wall, they lowered their gaze. But I knew they were peering at me from under their eyelashes. They stood there, subservient and afraid—had the story of how I killed a Queen reached them as well? Or they feared me because they feared the Wraith who favored me?

I didn’t want to linger there. I had nothing to tell them. Something instinctive, like a sixth sense whispered to me, insistently, that I should not be there and that I should walk away.

Just turn and walk away.

Turn now.

I saw one of the worshippers look up, just a flick of the head and then look down again. I felt a strange iciness under my feet.

“As expected,” a Wraith voice hissed behind me.

I turned around, my right hand reaching into my left sleeve.

But, I did not have a chance. My human reflexes would never fool a Wraith.

Siegfried’s tall figure lashed forward and his hand grabbed my left wrist, while he knocked away my right. “I wondered,” he hissed again, “how long before you try to find your own kind.” He grinned.

“Let me go,” I snapped at him, foolishly, I knew. I realized with horror and deep hurt that Siegfried’s intentions were not limited to grabbing my wrist and chiding me about some imaginary attraction to worshippers, my fellow humans. That was only incidental.

I saw his feeding hand move towards me like an attacking spider. While he was still holding my left wrist in the vice of his fingers, I jerked at him, but he was like a solid rock. I pitched away from him and then trying to make a move that he would not expect, I twisted on my axis as I swung around him. It worked for just one tiny shift of his left foot. It was a tiny shift, but enough for me to come within reach one of the columns, while, I hoped Siegfried was anticipating the very human reaction of using my free hand to block his life sucking one. I contemplated grimly that his mistake had been to hold my left hand and not my right.

I slammed my right hand on the surface. I felt a small nugget of heat in the middle of my right palm. Siegfried growled and pushed me into the column, perhaps in annoyance at the moment he had allowed that small side step, or in some act of defiance for whoever I thought would give me help through the living body of the hive. With the confidence of the predator holding his prey under the sheer power of the terror he was, he let go of my hand and pinned me against the column with his very presence, his slitted blue eyes staring into mine, the pupils glowing like neon. His feeding hand faced me, the slit in the palm open, the edges red, a luminous liquid within it, the claws sheathed with metal aiming for the hit.

I slipped my left hand on the column and felt a small vibration. Without any forethought I shot up my right hand and slammed it against his chest.

A futile gesture; even if I could feed, I could not penetrate through the armor of the leather covering his chest.

I should get finger guards with sharp tips…

He let out a gasp of surprise, his eyes widening, staring at me. I felt something greatly unpleasant, like a noxious sickness pulse through my right arm and explode in my stomach. The leather on his chest seemed to melt away.

I cannot feed, the thought flashed through my mind, almost in protest at the evidence to the contrary. But; someone more powerful than any ordinary Wraith, a Ship Wraith, could feed through me…

I heard a woman scream. Siegfried’s face became gaunt and his very presence faded, weakened. I wanted to remove my hand from his chest, but it was as if being electrocuted; I could not break the bond between my hand and his being. I heard myself scream and with a movement of my will that seemed to snap every neural fiber in my brain, I took my left hand off the column and pushed him away with my right palm. He staggered back. A male worshipper leaped forward, covering the distance between the far wall and Siegfried with the speed and agility of a scurrying roach. He raised his hand and a knife flashed in it. It scythed down on me and I reached to deflect its trajectory in an instinctive move while my mind, suddenly disconnected, coolly told me that I would lose a few fingers in the process.

However, my hand and that knife did not connect and the gleam of metal suddenly changed its trajectory, arching away from me as a flash of flying white hair cut off my view and a bolt of blue light hit the worshipper.

I gasped for air and words as I saw the Commander, my Amber Wraith, hiss at me with feral ferocity and then attack Siegfried, a dagger in his hand poised to cut the blue eyed Wraith’s throat.

“No!” I screamed and propelled myself towards the two. Not again! my mind screamed.

The sharp and wrathful hiss of the Amber Wraith stopped me. There was a blunt spark in my brain that left me strangely limp. However, his dagger did not proceed to finish its murderous task; it was now suspended motionless a few centimeters from Siegfried’s throat. He turned his head slightly and growled at the worshippers. They ran off, receding into the nooks and crannies of the far walls.

“Don’t kill him, please,” I said, trying to sound quiet.

The answer was a low hiss. I looked into the amber eyes. The slits were wide, reptilian, the iris shimmering with green lights I had not seen there before.

I called his Wraith name of colors and scents.

His hiss became lower and more aggressive. The knife flashed and dark blood gushed out of the thin, precise line cut across Siegfried’s pale throat by the fatal blade.

All strength and will left my body, all warmth drained. Shivering as if I had been dunked in icy water, I dropped down to my knees next to the body. I started to sob uncontrollably. My eyes were covered with a veil of tears and anguish, no longer capable to look at the beautiful Wraith that had been Siegfried; blue eyed, murderous and blood of my blood. Something the other Wraith, the one I loved, who now stood in front of me, staring down, would never, ever understand. And that was perhaps what filled me with the deepest sorrow.

[Traveler64]

HONOR

EPISODE 56

Spoiler:

Two worshippers appeared and unceremoniously dragged Siegfried away. The trail of blood left on the floor seemed to seep into the fabric of the hive, covered by the thinning mist.

I finally looked up to the Amber Wraith and met his eyes. They were now amber again, the feral light gone. The face was like stone, giving away nothing. I had feared for the Amber Wraith’s life, and a glow of happiness had streaked across my mind at the realization that he was healed and alive. But that small glow in the midst of the cruelty and brutality of a Wraith existence was being snuffed out completely by the realization that while I had given my very soul to this Wraith, in return there was nothing. NOTHING.

I felt small and inferior, a feeling I had never had before; one that suddenly infuriated me.

He hissed down on me, the sound of his voice more in my head than in my ear: “Your human irrational sensitivities mean nothing here. Learn to accept that there are lives that should not be saved and some lives are best if lost.” He turned on his heels and walked away.

I felt something travel through my palm touching the floor. A prompt? Don’t let the bas***d—not that Wraith have such a rank—walk away.

I looked after the Amber Wraith and noticed that he had not gone very far from me; he was not walking at that clipped, fast pace of the Wraith. It was as if he was teasing me, lingering, leaving behind a vague veil of colors and scents.

You son of a *****!

I sprung to my feet.

I had no illusion that I could move fast enough, or quietly enough, or stealthily enough to fool his Wraith senses. I had no doubt that he had allowed me to overtake him and grab a fistful of his flowing, white hair while pulling on him the dagger Lothar had given me. He actually purred as I pulled his head back to expose his throat and I reached from behind, rather awkwardly I noted to myself, standing very precariously on my toes, and put the blade against the pale skin. The dagger felt alive and excited in my hand.

He stopped moving and became very still, his neck arched back, a swatch of his hair in my fist, my face half buried in the silky, warm white mane. He was putting no weight on me; to the contrary, he was somehow holding me up on my toes. There was a soft growl coming from him, I could feel its vibration against my whole front. Standing behind him like that only emphasized how small and fragile I was compared to his height swaddled in that golden black leather.

But I was too angry to consider the situation. “Do you like this better?” I hissed into his back as I could not reach his ear, my face now tangled in his hair, some of it getting into my mouth. I tried to spit it out. A little thought came to my mind that his hair had a very nice smell; one I could not identify, but something green. Nice shampoo—

He purred and this time I had no doubt that it was neither threatening nor angry. I wasn’t sure whether to qualify it as bemused or actually delighted. I tightened my fist in his hair. The purr and its vibration against me got deeper.

“Elena,” he spoke softly, just a hiss in the depth of his throat, “since you do not intend to cut my throat I would suggest you remove that knife; before you actually do damage.”

I breathed out into his hair, the strands fluttering with my breath. I let go of the swatch in my fist and removed the dagger from his throat. I stepped back. He turned around to face me, his hair rather comically tussled. He grinned at me, those nasty looking sharp teeth gleaming. “Now that was very enlightening,” he purred.

Not even the stealthiest of Wraith and the most superb fighter among them—and this one, I had no doubt, was a particularly stealthy and alert one, and indeed a very graceful and fast moving combatant—could have anticipated what I did next and block it; my next move simply was not in the repertoire of the Wraith.

I sucker punched him in the jaw.

I don’t know if Wraith had glass jaws in general, but this one apparently was rather delicate in that area because he gasped, stared at me briefly and slowly, and quite elegantly, sunk to the floor.

I let out a ‘oh!’ and stared with bizarre fascination at the big Wraith lying at my feet. Did I hear the Blue Wraith chuckle? Well done!

Suddenly shocked by what I had done and actually bewildered by the stillness of the form on the floor, I dropped down next to him, examining his face for any sign of life. His countenance was still and a couple of shades paler, the eyes closed. Without the glare and shimmer of the golden eyes and with the hair fanned out like a luminous halo, the face looked absurdly angelic; a very alien angel. I bent over him, listening to his breath. I couldn’t hear anything. I put my hand on his chest to feel for the flutter of his heart; if there was a heart in that area. That thought felt very odd.

With trembling fingers, while muttering ‘please, please… that was nothing; you can’t die from THAT…’ I unfastened the hidden and elaborate, and very ornate, silver hooks and eyes that held together the front of the leather coat. I peeled it back to find a black shirt underneath and opened that as well, keenly aware of the little flips I felt inside as I was revealing the naked skin underneath.

The skin was pale and indeed rather green, covered with an intricate, triangular tattoo—or was it the natural pattern of the skin?—that started at the shoulders and apparently continued somewhere in the nether regions of his abdomen. I pushed away from my mind the image—imagined needless to say—of where the apex of that triangle went and what could be there. Taking a breath, I put my hand where a human would have his heart. I had expected the skin to be slippery and for some reason, humid; although the hand I had touched a long time ago was not. But, the skin under my palm was warm, dry and silky; it was almost feminine in its softness, although the muscles underneath were hard.

There was no flutter of a heart beat under my hand.

Then, I flinched, my own heart skipping, as I felt a strong throb under my hand. There was a heart there. Startled, I pulled away my hand and threw a glance at the Wraith face. The eyes were still closed and no muscle moved.

And then I did something very human—I bend over his chest and softly kissed the spot where the heart throbbed strongly, like a sudden heaving, but slowly with a rhythm that seemed to be only a quarter of a human heart’s rate. My lips lingered on the satiny skin and took in that green scent; it was alien but pleasant; it was unique indeed, but it attracted me instead of repelling. My lips tingled and I kissed that warm spot again.

I peered at his face. He had not moved. That ridiculously angelic expression was still there. I was beginning to think that it was a ruse, that he was playing dead, ready to spring on me. I was wondering whether he was not having a grand time, playing the fainting Wraith for all it was worth.

I touched his cheekbone, where the tattoo swirled with two fingers. The skin was cold. I considered prying his eyelid open to see what was happening there, but I thought better of it.

I shifted a little and now, caution to the wind and human sensibilities and inhibitions cast with the rest of the terrestrial garbage, I bent down again and this time touched my lips to his. They felt hard and tight; and cool. I pressed harder and took a little taste/

Like a tiny nibble of a small green grape.

Did I just think that?

That’s what my Ancient female used to say

Oh… The taste was faintly sweet.

Not his lips, you silly human! Nibble on his chest and go down the middle of the triangle--
I jerked back and turned my head towards one of the columns that was glowing with a very low light. I felt my face redden, both with embarrassment and annoyance, if not exasperation at being obviously observed and monitored by the Blue Wraith from his den inside the hive.

“Don’t you have anything to do?” I talked to the column.

It blinked; I could swear that it winked rather. You need instructions

This time I didn’t speak aloud, but in my mind: “I suggest that you go and monitor some worshippers humping.”

Humping?

But he didn’t wait for my flippant answer and I could feel him receding. And then it was silent. Very silent.

I whipped my head to my right and met the amber eyes staring at me. That part of his face I called a green grape was smiling.

The urge to hit again rose in me, but before I could translate it into even the slightest movement of my muscles, the previously out cold Wraith sprung to his feet with the agility and energy of a big locust, away from me, his hands up in the air, palms facing me, in a gesture that seemed to plea for restraint. I did not miss the rather red look of his feeding palm.

I moved quickly to rise. In two big steps I was right in front of him. He didn’t back off. With the open palm of my right hand on his chest, the front of his coat still open, I pushed him, or rather nudged him against the wall. He didn’t resist. When his back touched the wall, I put both my hands on his chest and driven by some very mischievous demon—it had to be a Wraith demon and more exactly one issuing from the Blue Wraith—I first kissed him softly, giving no hint of my intentions and then nipped with great enthusiasm that soft, warm spot on his chest. This time there was a deep, purring growl under my touch that sounded both highly startled and deeply delighted.

I backed off, turned on my heels and walked away. I wasn’t sure whether I was even going in the right direction, but I just kept walking, my nose in the air, my step firm. I was laughing silently. I think I was hysterical, and also giddy with secret triumph of female human over male Wraith.

[Traveler64]

HONOR
EPISODE 57

Spoiler:

As I turned with all the purpose I could put in my walk, into a hall filled with layers of columns, I realized that there was the sound of steps behind me. I didn’t have to turn to know that it was my Wraith. I imagined that I was leaving behind me a wind of maddening pheromones.

At first the thought amused me and even excited me. Then suddenly, I was afraid. What have I done? What have I aroused? What have I awakened? My mind whirled as the sound of the steps gained on me and I found myself following that soft streak of blue glow at my feet. A rising fear both rendering my body heavy and pushing me to break in a run, made me turn suddenly into a side corridor of opalescent walls, a blue glow blinking at me at the far end. I hurdled towards it. The steps followed me softly.

I reached the end of the corridor and penetrated that blue glow, stepping unto a luminous floor under which flowed what looked like blue waters.

I stopped startled, my breath short. The steps behind me also stopped. I sensed rather than saw that the Amber Wraith was behind me. Very close behind me. I could feel his breath; I could hear the rare throb of his heart.

Was it his heart? Or was it the throbbing heart of the hive?

I stared at the beautiful chamber of blue amber filigree and luminous amber panels, long veils of softly spun silk, light like the web of spiders, fluttering above a circular pool with glowing walls spiraling down into a funnel. The water was a shimmering blue, like liquid sapphire.

I understood what this was and I took a step back. I hit the leather, solid form of the Amber Wraith. His arms came around me and his right hand, his feeding hand, touched the spot where my own heart beat fast and scared.

“The Ship Wraith is dying,” he whispered in my ear. “A Ship Wraith who leaves his ship, cannot return to his own ship, or to another’s. The ship will reject him. The Ship Wraith you call the Blue Wraith has given up his life at your request, to save me. He has given me life.”

I listened to the whisper and I didn’t answer.

“But now,” he whispered still, “there will be no Ship Wraith and I cannot fulfill my promise of giving you a hive that will take us away, to see galaxies and worlds. Remember that?”

Caught in his numbing embrace, I could not move. “There is Lothar. He’s a Ship Wraith…”

“He cannot be a Ship Wraith on this hive.”

“Why not?”

“Genetics. The laws of the Wraith. Tradition.” He pushed me forward towards the pool. “You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing!” I said, firmly this time.

“You do because you want to set the world right. Your Atlantis killed his ship; your Atlantis attacked mine. It was you who first gave him life then would take it away by having asked him to take my place on this hiveship. You took away from me the place of a Ship Wraith. I am nothing now, unless a Queen takes me as the Commander. A Wraith Queen would not. But you would. A Wraith Queen could not put the Ship Wraith she created herself as the Ship Wraith of her own hive. But, you can, because you would not need to mate with it.” He pushed me forward a bit more. “And if you leave this ship, I would be without a Queen. You owe me a Queen.” He purred in my ear. “You would not go without making things right. It’s the human thing to do.”

I was now at the edge of the pool. There were no steps into it. Just a plunge into its depth. It was horribly deep, the bottom so far down that the point of light looked like a distant blue star. Suddenly, I realized I was terrified of watery abysses.

“It would cost you nothing,” he whispered and his hand was very hot on my heart. He moved it in a circle, the soft aperture in his palm connecting with the curvature of my breast. I shuddered as I felt a nip on the side of my neck, under my ear. The white, silky hair fell over my shoulder and the goatee brushed my collar bone.

I taught him well, didn’t I? I thought I heard the Blue Wraith.

His lips touched the curvature of my jaw. It was not a real kiss; it was no more than a touch of his lips. The absurd thought crossed my mind that Wraith did not know how to kiss; but, they were quick learners.

My toes were over the edge of the pool. “Step in,” he whispered.

I was dizzy, lost, floating between the veils of spiders, their silky touch like a lover’s caress. The flicker of reality in my mind warned me that the Amber Wraith had invaded my mind, that the touch of his hand on my heart was draining me of my will, wrapping me in an alien pleasure that I could not repel.

Powerful yet careful, almost tender hands, the metal and amber finger guards tantalizingly brushing against me, removed my leather outfit and the undergarments. The veils of spider silks whirled around me and their touch felt like a million sparks of tiny delights. They wrapped me and held me in their embrace. I was lifted up and then gently placed on the surface of the blue water. I floated like a moth inside its silk world. Then the silk parted and the water came around me. It was warm and strange; it was water, yet it had strength as it gripped me and pulled me to it. I sunk deeper, the water closing over my head. Soft currents touched me like ribbons, circling me and binding me. It snaked up my legs and with no more than a distant flutter, entered me, tentatively, as if exploring and searching,

Several sensations hit me at once—ripping pain, a coil tightening around me that suffocated and a red hot flash tearing through my cranium.. I thrashed, panic filling me with its claustrophobic terror, the fear of drowning screaming inside me. I saw blood red streaks in the water. The pool whirled around me, sucking me in, drawing me into the abyss below, towards that blue fire at the bottom that would burn me to ashes.

I screamed in the water, without sound and the liquid entered my mouth and throat, gelatinous and cloying. I moved my arms and legs madly against the force of the pool.

I gasped in an explosion of water and air as I violently rose up the side of the wall and broke the surface of the water. Two strong hands were gripping my underarms and pulling me out. I felt hot liquid gushing out of me and I saw blood flow down the side of the pool. I screamed as I realized that the blood was mine. I saw the liquid in the pool whirl down, draining away with a woosh. And the pool was now empty and dark. The walls turned dark.

Strong hands unceremoniously handled me and slit amber eyes looked down on me.

“Elena!” I heard distantly. “Elena! Speak! Elena!”

Darkness wrapped me and I sunk in it, aware of nothing anymore.

[MCH]

ugh! T your killn me! i want to stay up to read your new epis but sleep calls me. I'll check back in the am, and will keep my fingers crossed. I cant wait to see what you have in store for us next!
nite, qand sweet wraithie dreams!

Naw she not killing you, not our T64, sweet innocent T64.

Morning (well it is for me) T64 three more epsisodes thank you. Had a quick read but work calls me- time to earns some pennies....drat.

Interesting very interesting but what an ending so far?????? Cliffhanger the best yet.

Catch up later. MCH

[Traveler64]

HONOR
EPISODE 58

Spoiler:

###


Before I opened my eyes, consciousness drifting back over me, I felt a familiar place around me; the smells, the sounds, the very light. In those few seconds before the memory of what had happened came back to me, I thought I was awakening from a deep dream and looking around, I wondered what had happened that I found myself in the midst of the soft humming of the Atlantis infirmary, with Doctor Janson smiling down on me, her eyes narrowed as she observed me minutely.

The sight of the familiar young, round face with brown eyes and brown hair caught in a surgical cap filled me with comfort and I felt a smile forming on my lips. I was thirsty and dizzy, but knew that I was otherwise fine.

“Doctor…” I whispered, my mouth refusing to form the words and my throat too thick to truly produce a sound. I coughed. “Jenn…” I tried her first name.

“You’re fine,” she answered. “Nothing wrong, really.” She must’ve read in my eyes that the memory of what happened finally took shape in my brain, because she answered my obvious questions before I spoke them: “The Wraith brought you here with their big hiveship. We had a bit of an alarming moment before they communicated to us that they were bringing you down. You came in with quite an escort.” She smiled, apparently still reading my mind. “It was the Commander, or the Amber Wraith as you kept muttering and that blue eyed Wraith.” She paused for a second, as if to listen to my next silent question. “They’re still here.”

I breathed out. “Not locked up, are they?”

“No,” she smiled. “But we’ve got marines nearby.” She let out a small laugh. “They’re not very reassuring, those two, you know. But,” she fussed with my IV, “I don’t know much about Wraith facial expressions—when they have any—but your Amber Wraith looked a bit frantic.” She leaned slightly over me. “Well… Wraith frantic; a lot of snarling.” She leaned further and her eyes gleamed with a little wicked light: “You know the Wraith better than anyone, but, do you think they fall in love?”

Under her mischievous gaze I didn’t know what to answer.

“I think,” she said, “and this is between us two girls, this one is in love.” She chuckled and sat on the side of my bed. She padded my hand with hers. “What happened?”

“With Wraith,” I said, “it’s like shooting rapids without a life jacket or a paddle…” My eyes shifted to the far side of the room where I saw a man, from his garb a worshipper, standing against the wall, looking haggard. “Whatever happened, it was not intentional.”

“I couldn’t get anything out of the Amber Wraith; which does not surprise me. He just snarled at me to get you well. He didn’t say ‘or else’, but I got it.”

“I slipped and fell in a pool of water; or what looked like water,” I said quietly. “Who’s that?”

Doctor Janson turned in the direction of my gaze. “Oh, him. He’s a worshipper; a Healer among them. Your Wraith told him that if you die, he will become a meal for one of his drones.”

“Very motivational…”

“We offered the Healer sanctuary, but he refused. He kneeled in front of the Amber Wraith and asked for punishment. Fortunately for all of us, your Wraith was quite sensible about it and just kicked him aside.”

“They are not very subtle at times…”

“You were hemorrhaging pretty badly—the Healer was able to stop some of it—but there was no injury or anything. Your blood chemistry and your hormonal balance were completely gone awry. As soon as we balanced your blood chemistry and we stopped the surge of hormones, it stopped.” She peered at me. “Apparently, Wraith do not have doctors, or the equivalent of a doctor. They just… heal and they do not have diseases that cripple them or kill them.”

“That’s what’s known as being immortal,” I mused.

“Yes… I asked your Wraith why he couldn’t heal you like he did the first time.”

My gaze shifted on Janson’s face. “What did he say?” The same question had crossed my mind.

“It was fascinating, really,” the doctor answered, suddenly animated with professional excitement. “He said that they can heal with the Gift of Life only those injuries they can see, the ones that are of flesh and bone. They can manipulate DNA if they have to for curing some of the issues they might have, which is primarily one of DNA, but in your case, there was nothing that was so to speak visible—no injury and no damage to your DNA. Also, he told me, that he would not use the Gift of Life on you again because of what it would do. He gave me a very interesting explanation of the enzymes and narcotics that are injected in your blood. He told me that it is that repeated injection of enzymes and narcotic chemicals that produces a worshipper and that while the first time he was able to remove that from your blood stream, a repeat procedure like that, which requires manipulation of your DNA, would either kill you or make of you what he did not wish you to be. Also,” she leaned forward again, “he said that his he would never wish to change you into anything else but what you are.” She grinned. “He does like you; if you could say that a Wraith likes. However,” she straightened up, “he did confess—I guess with a Wraith not everything is simple—that while you were on the hive the first time, some of his DNA radicals did attach themselves to yours; but they are dormant and extraneous—we have lots of that anyway—unless triggered.” She sighed. “Triggered by the Gift of Life or…” she hesitated, “mating.” She shook her head. “I guess Wraith mating involves some kind of DNA mingling. It’s nothing like with humans.”

I stared at the ceiling.

“Ready for visitors?” she asked.

I turned my head slowly. “Yes.”

I hid my disappointment—one that came from elsewhere than my logical mind—at the sight of Colonel Santos and Doctor Bernard. Yet, they were a very welcome sight.

“Who’s in charge?” I asked, trying to sound my old self, ready for biting sarcasm.

“You’re in charge,” Doctor Bernard declared. “Didn’t you hear?”

“No. I was occupied.”

“Yeah…” Santos interjected.

“Why is it,” Bernard said, “that whenever one hangs out with Wraith, even so called friendly ones, one ends up either mauled, or unconscious or looking older; or younger…”

“Being with Wraith,” I said, “it’s definitely a contact sport.”

“Like that Aztec game,” Bernard launched, “trying to put the ball through some hoops by hitting it with their hip; an impossible task to begin with; but if you lost, off you went to the top of the pyramid to have your heart cut out.”

I laughed. “You don’t know how close you are to what Wraith sports are. But,” I continued, turning serious, “who’s in charge.”

“We’ve had word from the IAO that you’re in charge,” Colonel Santos answered. “I am not joking, Doctor Vries.”

I held his gaze. “I guess there are no regrets for Doctor Feng. No one got sad, or outraged, or really curious about what happened and why?”

“It was an open and shut case. He played Aztec ball with the Wraith and he lost.” He offered a vague smile. “His problem was compounded by you being the referee.”

“So,” Doctor Janson spoke from the other side, “as soon as you’re well, you’ve got work. We’re waiting.”

“We missed you, Doctor Vries,” Bernard said.

Santos nodded. “You are needed. Badly.”

“It is complicated,” I said. Very complicated… I looked at Janson. “So, Doctor, when am I going to be well enough to get out of this bed?”

“Right now, if you can raise your head one inch,” she answered with a laugh.

I sat up.

“You’re ready,” Colonel Santos declared.

“Conference room in two hours,” I said.

Yes, Ma’am!” Santos exclaimed with military emphasis.

“Are the Wraith still here?” I asked. “The Commander?”

“Yes. Standing there, staring at the ocean. The blue eyed one is standing right behind him, without moving a muscle.”

“If they keep this up,” Janson said, “we might need to tranquilize them.”

I laughed, and laughed heartily. “I want to speak with him.”

“I’ll bring him over—“

“No. I’ll get out of here first and change; and try to look like a civilized human being. Wilting human being nursing hurts do not inspire the Wraith the right way.”

All three looked at me.

I shook my head. “They are a complicated species. I know you are aware of that; but you can’t imagine how really complicated they are until you hear their thoughts.” I shrugged to conceal the discomfort of my own words. “This is a sentient, highly intelligent species that has no concept of friendship, or of saving another’s life, or of having feelings for another. They just have alliances; temporary in most cases. They give themselves all the room and latitude they can for eliminating each other.” I looked at all three of them. “They are outside our reach.”

Santos and Bernard exchanged a glance, turned on their heels and left.

“That bit about no feelings? Not exactly true, from what I observed,” Doctor Janson said softly.

“It’s complicated.”

“You keep saying that.”

I rose from bed. “And now I have to preen to chat with a Wraith.”


###


I stood on the threshold of the large room opening unto a terrace that overlooked the glassy blue expanse of the ocean and took a few seconds to take in the image of the tall Wraith at the rail, facing the ocean, just a form against the rising sun. The breeze played with the smooth white hair. I had no doubt that he had felt me come in and had heard my step, but he did not turn, perhaps allowing me the moment to look at him; perhaps allowing himself a moment before facing me.

For a second I caught my own reflection in the burnished surface of the floor—I had donned my strict gray and red Atlantis uniform that made little concession to figure or shape. My hair, which had gotten longer since I left Atlantis, was gathered in a pony tail. I was trying to make a statement; although it was half hearted and, on second thought, asinine; if not pig headed this obvious attempt to be someone else than the Elena the Amber Wraith had learned to know. You could not fool, really, an immortal, ancient creature like this.

[Traveler64]

HONOR
EPISODE 59

No, it's not the end. Not yet...

Spoiler:

The look on Lothar’s face—his expression was by far the most open I’ve seen among Wraith—told me with a little smile that it was not a message that would be getting through. He inclined his head at me.

“I did not thank you,” I said to him, “for the assistance you gave me.” I took out the dagger. “You would like it returned, I am sure.”

Lothar inclined his head again. “No. If you wish to keep it, you may. It would please me, actually.”

It felt the hilt alive in my hand again.

He smiled. “I think it belongs to you.”

I nodded and placed the dagger aside and turned to the Amber Wraith, who all this time had not moved. I wanted to speak with him alone, but privacy did not seem to be a Wraith consideration because Lothar did not move from his spot. I turned to the marines and signaled them to retreat from the room.

Perhaps Lothar had ‘heard’ my thought because without a word he slipped after them. I closed the door to the room and now, I was alone with my Wraith; I realized that for the first time in a long time, I was alone with him.

I walked to the rail and now stood alongside him, staring at the same point he was. I felt his gaze turn on me.

“Forgive me, Elena Vries,” he said, his voice blending with the whisper of the ocean.

I turned to him and distracted myself with the flutter of his hair. His face looked drawn; or perhaps it was my imagination. But his face showed something that I never thought I’d see in a Wraith—defeat; or despondency. I stared at him. No… not defeat or despondency. It was desolation; and I somehow understood it to be the desolation of a long lived creature who had seen disappointment over and over and had grown tired of it.

I didn’t quite know what to answer; I would not refuse his wish for forgiveness; and I would not tell him that I was not angry, but just didn’t know what to think or believe. I was lost. Instead of a verbal answer, I put my hand on his and curled it around his fingers gripping the rail, the deadly metal and amber finger guards comforting.

He put his other hand—his feeding hand—over mine. “You are healed?” he asked.

“You won’t have to kill the Healer or destroy Atlantis.”

“Another day, then,” he answered, a flash of humor having surfaced.

There was silence between us for a while, my hand between his. Then, as if of one thought, our hands came apart, mine still tingling as I put it back on the rail.

“Tell me,” I said, “what was supposed to have happened in that pool and what happened instead?”

He seemed to shirk. “This is a Queen’s secret,” he spoke with that echoed voice of a Wraith. “We do not know or speak of it.”

“You know,” I countered. “You were a Ship Wraith.”

“I thought humans had sensitivities about such subjects.”

“So do Wraith it appears. But my question is the one of a scientist. I am also asking as Doctor Elena Vries, the new—or rather the returned—leader of Atlantis.”

This time he turned towards me, looking down rather thoughtfully, the slits of his eyes narrow. “You accepted the leadership position?”

“Yes.”

There was no visible reaction. Just a nod. “As for what happened… It was a mistake, one I should have realized and anticipated. Although you have the ancient gene, and although you have much of the DNA radical—dormant as it is—from our last encounter when you produced the Queen, and although on the surface you appear to be physically similar to a Wraith Queen, in reality that is only on the surface. Inside you are not—either physiologically or chemistry. It was a grave error on my part.” He seemed to take a breath. “When a Wraith Queen enters the water—which is not really water as you have perceived, I am sure—the liquid triggers changes in the blood—I think Doctor Janson called them hormones—that trigger the production of the Queen’s DNA essence. It is something that happens very rapidly. The… uh… liquid then extracts it, mingles it with the DNA of the Ship Wraith. It is taken to the chambers along the pool where the new Wraith are formed and come into the world, as you say. But in your case…”

“Yes, I understand.”

“I greatly regret what happened, Elena Vries. It was not my intention to hurt you. You seemed to enjoy the same pleasures a Wraith Queen would demand and receive.”

I followed the line of the white capped waves braking against the embankments of Atlantis.

He seemed to follow my gaze. “We are a space race,” he said, “although we were at first created on a planet and dwelt there. But, this is not natural to us anymore. This expanse of water is so troubling…” I heard an intake of breath and a small hiss. “I was deceived by the first time when you provided the DNA for the Queen. You reacted like a Wraith Queen and I did not realize that it was only a heightened human reaction. I do not know humans. A deficiency that never troubled me before, but which I now deeply regret.”

“And we don’t know Wraith,” I whispered. “I thought—“ I broke off. I thought we were not so different. Or are we? “I thought that since you have Ancient human genes the methods of… of…”

“—mating.”

“Yes… that also… would be similar.”

“Perhaps we are, but we diverged greatly in our ways.” He stared at the horizon, the light shining in his eyes, making them look like amber crystal. “I should have considered that the first time, when I used the Ancient device, I did not perform the full ceremony of a Queen.”

I peered at him and said, before stopping myself: “What do you mean?”

“It is of no importance to you, or to me right now.” This time the sound of desolation in his voice was unmistakable.

“I understand that you need a Queen now,” I said, trying to keep my voice quiet. “I am willing to offer what you need to use the Ancient device, since that seemed not to cause problems.” And I rather enjoyed it, I have to admit, whatever it was that really happened… Probably not what I thought happened…

“No, that cannot be. The Ancients had their problems with that device. And I cannot solve it. It’s inherent in the device.” He turned to me. “The human seed of imbalance, emotion—insanity, I think you call it—is triggered in a Wraith created with the device and it becomes dominant. The two Queens were insane. Siegfried, as you called him, he inherited it. It seems to be transmitted t through the generations. No, that cannot be.”

A heavy silence dragged between us again.

I was the first to speak. “After all that happened, is there a baby Ship Wraith in the making?”

“No.” I saw his hand grip the rail. “The Ship Wraith, the one you call Blue, is dead. The shock to him was even greater than to you. He could not sustain himself anymore.”

I felt tears in my eyes; and it stunned me. “I am so very sorry,” I said, my voice breaking. “Truly, so very sorry.”

“You liked him, didn’t you?”

Not as much as I like you. “What do Wraith know of liking?”

“We are not without discernment of such things.”

I smiled to the wind. “He was very ancient. He was very wise.” And he was funny and outrageous. He had moments when he was almost himan.

“Yes, he was. He was one of the Early Ones. He knew the Ancients well. The Ancients’ gene was strong in him.”

“How old are you?”

“In human termas? I do not know. But, not nearly as old as the Blue Wraith was. I came to be long after the Ancients had ascended.”

“The Blue Wraith told me that they never did.”

“Of course they didn’t. They just turned to dust. They were fools.” He turned to me. “So are you, their descendants, you, humans.”

I took a step back. I had not expected him to turn so quickly; I should’ve known. But, I didn’t argue. How could a short lived species with scant knowledge or understanding of its own history argue with a creature that lived for millennia? Yet, their experience was in many ways static. “I suppose,” I said, “after a while, everything repeats itself; everything is one great déjà vue in the long life of a Wraith.”

“That is why, Elena Vries, you are so different to me. You are not déjà vue in my long life.”

I was left speechless, a knot in my throat. With a life of its own, my hand went up and rested on the intricate pattern of the leather on his chest. I felt the one throb of his heart, and with sweet anticipation, I waited for the next one.

But then, I let my hand drop. He turned away.

“You are the leader of Atlantis again,” he stated, his voice humming.

“Yes.”

“Like all your predecessors and like all humans you will embark on that foolish quest you human call ‘making things right’.” He followed that statement with a contemptuous hiss. “You came to Pegasus—“ His amber eyes were on me again. “Why did you come?”

“To explore the world of the Ancients. To learn.”

“To what use?”

“To better our lives.”

“How quaint.”

“How corny, yes.”

“You then decided to set things right—according to your rules—and at the end, as it is with all human intentions, you set everything wrong. You brought us out of hibernation out of turn and a generation of humans who would not have known the Wraith, died because of what you did. The generation before them and many generations after them would not have known the Wraith as more than a myth, had you not awakened us. And now, because of your presence and Atlantis, we cannot go back in hibernation, where we should be; and thus you condemn another generation of humans to know the Wraith. You’ve unbalanced the galaxy and you still think you are doing the right thing.”

I could not argue with that either. I kept silent.

“Elena Vries, if you want the set things right, leave the Pegasus. Give me a Queen, and leave the Pegasus. We will go into hibernation, and soon the humans of Pegasus, generation following generation, will almost forget us. And when we awaken again, we may find a world that can defeat us; your Earth might not exist anymore. Even if we will return to our cullings, it will be more merciful than the cullings you have on your Earth. I saw the history in your mind—we would never kill 55 millions like you did in one of your wars. We know when to stop to preserve both races.” He was now close, his breath audible. “And Elena Vries, the longer you stay here, the closer the Wraith are to obtaining the address for Earth.” His eyes shimmered.

I had listened to his words in silence. A great hole opened in my heart. I felt that deep desolation that filled him.

“I am due to a conference,” I said instead of an answer.

“We will part now. Perhaps we will meet again.”

“Perhaps…”

Then, he surprised me. “One more time, would you do what you did after you hit me?” His hand went to the clasp on his chest.

[Traveler64]

HONOR
EPISODE 60

Well, not quite an EPISODE. Just one paragraph left that was over the 2000 words limit in the previous post. Kind of stupid, I know, but, you wouldn't want to miss this one, would you?

Spoiler:

I stared at him for a moment, bemused, but then with a little flip in my stomach, I slowly unfastened the tunic on his chest, parted it and I touched with my lips that warm spot underneath which his heart beat. He became very still, his heart suddenly fluttering, as I bit the soft skin smelling of distant worlds. There was a soft shudder and a small guttural sigh and then he stepped back. He fastened back his tunic, straightened up, bowed his head to me and then marched out, the doors opening and then closing behind him.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[MCH]

Phew thank god for that, theought I would end upin tears there. Very interesting and what an ending. Elena is not the type just to leave this hanging up in the air.

Catch you later T64. Once again thank you. MCH

[Sevenofnine]

^_^ hello all. I have been watching this thread since christmas and just never registered to say hey. so...hey! This thread is awesome and I absolultly love the story. The gutter-drive is nice too ^^. I have started my own fic but I did want to tell you T64 that this fic did inspire me so *praise and homage...lots of chocolate gifts*. Please continue this fanfic! I'm waiting...somewhat patiently...running out of ice cream as I reread Isolde's fic....dieing of lack of wraith hot gutter-driven goodness. *sends starbucks mocha goodness and pictures of todd for the undercarriage*.
http://http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4.../1/Naming_Fate

Welcome, Have read your story and am enjoying it. T64's story is really good. You should also check out Todd thunk thread and Wraith Defenders Club thread. Both are very interesting.

[Traveler64]

^_^ hello all. I have been watching this thread since christmas and just never registered to say hey. so...hey! This thread is awesome and I absolultly love the story. The gutter-drive is nice too ^^. I have started my own fic but I did want to tell you T64 that this fic did inspire me so *praise and homage...lots of chocolate gifts*. Please continue this fanfic! I'm waiting...somewhat patiently...running out of ice cream as I reread Isolde's fic....dieing of lack of wraith hot gutter-driven goodness. *sends starbucks mocha goodness and pictures of todd for the undercarriage*.
http://http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4.../1/Naming_Fate

I tried to get to the site, but for some reason I can't get in. Something about phishing protection, which I have, but it says I don't... gremlins in the computer?