Secrets

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Ronon struggled to consciousness, aware at first only of the overwhelming need to run. He caught his breath with a gasp, fought to keep from flailing in the darkness. His limbs were free — that was good, meant he wasn’t trussed for feeding, wasn’t pinned waiting for some Wraith to insert another tracker. He shifted cautiously, feeling a body against his own. Two bodies, one with a spill of long hair — Jennifer, he thought, with renewed fear, and McKay. Faint lights were coming on, as though his movements had triggered them, glowing pinpoints that outlined Wraith controls, and in the dim light he recoiled from the Wraith who lay tangled beneath them. Not a Wraith, not really — it had McKay’s face, McKay’s sharp nose and thinning hair, but Ronon’s skin still crawled at its touch. He pressed himself back against the walls of the lifepod, trying to get himself under control.

OK, yes, they were in a lifepod, a Wraith lifepod, because they’d been cut off from the others and there was no other way off the hiveship: the plan had been to steal aboard Death’s hive, rescue McKay, or kidnap him, depending on whether or not he was cooperative, but Jennifer had collapsed before they could rejoin Sheppard’s group or contact the Hammond.

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