They were everywhere.
Smoke billowed through
the halls, and crackling energy from the destroyed consoles provided the only light in some rooms.
The power that protected
Atlantis was gone. There were no lights but what the windows provided. Even the emergency power had been depleted.
No one knew where they
had come from, and no one knew how they had known where Atlantis was. They had
dropped out of the sky and attacked Atlantis without warning. Half the population
had been taken out in the first ten minutes of the attack.
Major John Sheppard had been in his quarters when the attack
began, getting ready for an off world mission. The power had been taken out immediately,
and all he was able to gather of what had happened was what he heard on his radio. Of
that, he mostly heard cries for help and pleas to an unseen enemy.
Ever the soldier, Sheppard
had set himself for the worst. Taking his gun, he headed down the halls of Atlantis,
wary to the unknown danger. Parts of the city had collapsed. Some areas were inaccessible. Everyone he came across was
And then he saw them and
knew that his nightmare had come true.
Three wraith were feeding
off of one of the doctors, sucking him dry. With a cry of animal rage, Sheppard
rammed one, skewering its head with his long knife. He took the others out as
quickly as the first.
The doctor was too far
gone to be saved. Sheppard realized a moment later as he let the old head drop,
that the doctor was Carson Beckett, his features unrecognizable with age.
At that moment, fear began
to creep into the Major’s heart. If the wraith were here, their only goal
would be to subdue Atlantis and feed on the survivors.
Determination in his features,
he set his gun firmly against his shoulder. If the wraith were here to kill,
he was going to make sure it would take them as long as possible to get everyone. Perhaps,
if he got lucky, the Stargate would be unguarded, and some might make it through.
Several long and weary
hours later, he realized that hope was impossible. He found no one alive. People that he had known and worked with, people that had come to be friends to him
were all dead. Weir, Teyla, Ford—even McKay. They were all gone.
He ended up cornered in
the gate room, his back to the Stargate, and dozens of wraith surrounding him. He
was injured and battle weary, but rage at what these creatures had done kept him going.
They didn’t all
jump him like he expected. One stepped forward, long white hair immaculate, analyzing
Sheppard as he aimed his empty gun towards the wraith.
“You are the one,”
the wraith said.
‘the one,’” Sheppard sniped. “I’m the one who’s
gonna take out as many of you as I can before you can get to me.”
The wraith smiled. “No. You are the one we have been
looking for. You are the one who killed our caretaker and all the others. It is ironic that you also are the last of your kind to live.”
Sheppard caught himself
swaying, and he shifted from one leg to the next in an effort to stay standing.
“You have foiled
many of our awakening plans,” the wraith continued. “We did not want
to be awakened this early. We came to avenge the caretakers. We came for you. Unfortunately, we had to go through many
of your kind before we finally found you.”
Disbelief and shock slammed
into Sheppard at the wraith’s words. Scenes of wraith threatening him with
death flashed through his mind. Steve had said
they would come for him. The wraith caretaker had said they would come for him. They were here only for him and had slaughtered everyone to get to him. He didn’t know if he had gone insane or if those instances had all been pointing to this. “No,” he whispered. “No.” His voice rose, and with animal rage, he charged the wraith, slamming the butt of his gun into its head. It fell, twitching, and was still . . . but only for a moment.
stop. He had lost his other weapons hours ago. Using
his empty gun, he swung it around himself, creating a small circle between himself and the rest of the wraith. It made contact with several of the wraith who attempted to make a grab at him, and the heavy gun warped,
bending almost in half.
The Major was too exhausted
and wounded from his previous encounters to prevent the final attack. The wraith
swarmed him, leaving him sprawled, twenty minutes later, broken and bloody on the floor.
They did not feed.
One of the wraith looked
down at the human, then looked solemnly at the rest of the wraith. “We
were not to kill him,” it said. “The world he came from is populated
with billions of his kind, and now we shall never find it. It shall remain the
lost world . . . at least until someone else comes.”