Disclaimer: I wish I could own Stargate Atlantis, the character of Michael, or even Connor Trinneer. That would make me very rich or very popular… but alas I don't.
Author's note: Okay, this is chapter one of those two weeks before the episode of "Michael" I adored Connor Trinneer from Enterprise, and was delighted by his performance as Michael. I've always been a bit of a wraith sympathizer (and mourned the death of Steve) therefore, I wanted to go more into this particular character, who was exactly what I wanted to see in this series. Expect 13 or 14 chapters.
Chapter 1: Day 1
"Strap him down for the love of-"
"Working on it, Carson!"
I fight the two humans with what strength remains in me, roaring in protest.
"You will die for this!" I cry out as the dark-skinned man digs his fingers into the flesh of my arms in a futile attempt to restrain me. "Others will come for me! They will destroy you!"
The smaller human, Sheppard of Earth, snarls and shoves roughly, mocking me.
"Blah blah blah."
"They're gonna have to find us first!" the other insists. It is he who captured me. I scream in fury, wishing to kill now for vengeance rather than the need for sustenance. The memories was to the front of my mind, loud and unsettling as the waves that crash against the docks of this loathesome city.
I had been alone, on a mission. It was only a minor culling with a simple goal; capture the stronger, more youthful products of one village and transport them to my hive ship. To feed my colony. With the growing hunger among my race-the greater competition- it was vital…
Damn these fools! It was they who had awoken us; they who had sent us into this civil war for food and power.
The pain shat had shaken my frame when my dart was shot down still throbbed within me as I stumbled out, searching for the Stargate. Blasts came from behind, paralyzing me as they shot again and again, debilitating me. I struggled with all my might, but the formidable human had defeated me. He would surely have broken both my legs-the feral look in his eyes was so powerful that he himself might have been one of my own-had a voice not rung out through the air, commanding that I be left unharmed. It was all I could gather in my disbelief that she was female before I was subdued and cast into their ship.
Why hadn't they killed me? What could they possibly be planning?
"You're gonna need a name," Sheppard says, seizing my wrist despite my effortsand binding it to the bedside. "How does Mike sound?"
I fight my restraints, screeching in rage, cursing their vile carcasses. Demeaning me! Taunting me with pet names and human lebels. A light shines in my face and I hiss, lurching forward as they restrain my other wrist. A recording… they are recording me!
"Smile for the camera, Mikey-boy!" Sheppard crows, grabbing my head and shoving it roughly down onto the bed. I savagely attempt to bite him, but to no avail.
"Colonel!" another man yells.
"He's down!" Sheppard replies. I writhe under the humans' grasps, struggling despite my prone position. A man appears in a white coat, foreign and fitting in uncommonly well with the alien setting of the room. In his hand he grasps a syringe surely, his thumb resting on the plunger in anticipation. My helpless struggles suddenly seem hopelessly futile, and as I wrench at my restraints, they cut deeply into my wrists and ankles.
"Whatever you do to me, my brethren will see to it that you suffer a thousand times in return," I snarl. The man with the syringe tries to jab me, but I jerk away, fueled by anger, still lurching too much to be injected with whatever foul poison he has planned for me. My every movement is fueled by sheer wrath.
"Ronon, hold him still," he commands, and the formidable one falls on me, staying my movement as much as he was able with his heavy arms.
"What are you doing?" I demand. "Release me or you shall die for this insolence!"
"Well, maybe in time you'll come to see how we feel," Sheppard remarks.
Before I am able to say anything, a sharp sting bites into my neck as some foreign substance seeps into my blood, burning as it goes. Pain as I have never known suddenly takes me, tearing through my body's defenses like acid.
I let out a wail of agony, shutting my eyes against the bright alien lights. It feels as though the very core of my being has been violated. I try to grasp my head, my stomach, my shoulders in an instinctive move for self comfort, but my restraints won't even allow me that.
"Retrovirus successfully administered," the man with the syringe says, his voice booming in my head like a thousand explosions. They were reporting on this… they were recording my pain!
I roar in utter anguish, but the suffering pain intensifies, blurring out reality. My stomach heaves, my muscles quiver, a thin layer of perspiration has begun to coat my pale skin, but there is nothing I can do but accept it.
With my last conscious breath, I hiss angrily.
"You will all die."
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