Free Stargate SG-1 & Atlantis - Far Horizons by Sally Malcolm

Keller put a finger to her lips, then pointed to the next intersection. There , she mouthed.
    Sheppard stepped over to her, leaned around the corner.
    Past the intersection, the passageway opened out into a high chamber. Half the space had collapsed long ago, walls and ceiling crumpled together, the deck gouged brutally apart. What remained was dotted with dozens of hibernation chambers.
    Some were empty and dark, like those in the passage. Ceana, Dughan and Marchal stood before one that was not. A Wraith soldier, masked and armored, stood behind the glassy shell of its womb, wrapped in pulsing umbilicals and bathed in that vile light.
    The light shone on Ceana, too. She had already taken off her coat; without it, dressed in a plain wool shirt and britches, she looked heartbreakingly thin and small. But she was standing close to the chamber, unbowed, gazing up on its occupant with undisguised loathing.
    “I’m ready,” she whispered. “Give me the draught.”
    “You’re sure?” That was Marchal. His voice shook as he spoke. “You know I’ll take your place if you —”
    “Don’t make it harder on her, lad.” Dughan stepped past him. The Elder had a bottle in one hand, and was holding it out to Ceana. “It’s sour,” he told her gently. “But drink every drop.”
    “I know.” She took the bottle from him and put it to her lips.
    Sheppard saw her grimace, her white face creasing in disgust as she gulped the stuff down. He almost hurled himself at her to rip the bottle away, but he had hesitated too long. If the draught was poison, Ceana’s small body was already rife with it.
    He watched her hand the bottle back to Dughan. “Quickly, Elder,” she said. “Before I sleep.”
    Dughan gazed down at her for a moment, his eyes brimming with what looked to Sheppard very much like pride. Then he reached out to a panel on the wall and hit it hard with the side of his fist.
    The panel chimed dully, a thick, rasping sound as the transparent shell began to grind painfully upwards. The chamber was in poor repair, Sheppard realized, just like the rest of the ship. Hundreds of Wraith must have already died there, trapped, suffocated or starved as their support systems failed.
    This one, though, was very much alive. Sheppard saw it lurch out of the chamber, massive fists bunching. Its masked head dipped towards Ceana.
    “Master,” Dughan said, bowing and gesturing to the girl. “She is for you. Feed, and be strong.”
    There was no doubt now. The villagers were engaged in some sickening bargain with the Wraith trapped here, waking them one by one, offering their children as meals with only a soporific draught to dull the pain of their ending. In return, their village was spared.
    That bargain ended tonight. Sheppard stepped around the corner, smooth and fast, the P90 centered on the Wraith’s center of mass and his teammates spilling out after him. “Back off, pal. Breakfast is cancelled.”
    The creature snapped around to face him. In front of it, Ceana stood with eyes wide, her mouth open in shock. “John? What are you doing?”
    “Trying to save your life.” The Wraith was too close to her. If he opened fire the ricochets from its armor would tear her apart. “So meet me halfway and get away from that thing.”
    “No!” she screamed. “Go away!”
    Before he could answer the chamber was full of bodies, all yelling at each other. Keller was reaching out to Ceana, trying to coax the child away from the hulking alien at her back. McKay was moving towards a vantage point closer to the hibernation chamber, while Wright was circling the group, trying to get a clear shot around the shouting, confused villagers.
    Only the Wraith was still.
    The situation had gone very bad, very quickly. Sheppard cursed himself. He should have listened to Wright, intervened earlier. “Ceana…”
    She was shaking her head at him. “You shouldn’t be here.”
    “Just let us help you!”
    “You can’t,” she said dully, and