We are not so different, you and I.

You sacrifice yourself daily to protect your people. I entrust myself to the mercy of those who should be my victims in order to help what is left of my own.

No, we are not so different.

Perhaps my morals do not always stand up to your judgment. (But you understand – you have had to make such decisions before.) Perhaps you are disgusted by my race. (But the feeling is mutual.) Perhaps you question the prudence of our alliance. (But you have trusted me this far, and I have never slighted you yet.)

What will happen when this war nears its end?

Neither can turn on the other – our goals are too much the same. I have acted too often in your favor, saving more than just your own life. Nor could even I in good conscience betray such a man as yourself. After all, I once risked the possibility of my own death to prevent yours.

I admit my motives may have been selfish. You were a skilled fighter – I was a warrior constantly watching, searching for the enemy’s weakness, even as you lay listless in your cell. I knew you had a promising future. I saw in you the kind of ruthless, steadfast master I hoped to be.

Of course, it was not so poetic at the time. I was dying; so were you. I made the most of the opportunity.

Thus, the wraith and the humans came together, and you were allowed to live to speak of it. Such a thing had, until then, been unheard of. How could you act in spite of it?

And so you, Sheppard, put the safety of your people, indeed of your world, in my hands (figuratively, of course). Our fates lie connected just beyond our reach. Somehow through this strange alliance we have become brothers in arms.

But once this war is over, one of us must be destroyed by the other.

I should think that by now you are prepared for either outcome.

So, you see, we are very much alike, despite our physical differences. From here I can only bid you the best of luck, my brother.