James Swallow - Halcyon

The Athosian woman had her grip on the blade and she worked, trying to turn it. Wraith were incredibly resilient, their cellular structure and monstrous physiology capable of repairing wounds that would be instantly fatal to a human. A cut like this one would be only a memory in a day or so, unless she could render so much damage that Scar's body would not be able to save him. Blaster fire, decapitation, a salvo of hollow point bullets-all these things would have finished Scar off in an instant, but Teyla Emmagan had only the tools at hand to work with.

She tried to let herself slip into a cool, steady battle-mind state, a point of focus without anger or fury; but her years of training failed her. She had too much rage for this creature, a towering hate built from his cruelty to her and the brutality he had shown to those riflemen, to John and Ronon, to poor Bishop. Teyla realized that she did not just want Scar to die. She wanted to make him suffer first.

That chink in her psyche was enough, and Scar fought back with rage of his own, striking her mentally even as he clawed at her flesh.

Other hands grabbed at her, tore her away from him. Teyla went wild, turning and grabbing the neck of one Wraith under her arm, twisting it until it broke. She let the corpse fall and flew at the next pale-faced alien, her hands finding flesh to gouge. The thick spike of a stunner came at her and Teyla sank her fist into the owner's sternum, hearing ribs snap. She disarmed him with a crippling kick to the knee and spun the Wraith rifle about, using the spike to impale the alien to the deck.

Fingers flicked at Teyla's auburn hair and she felt a wave of pain as an unseen attacker dragged her backward with a savage jerk. She stumbled and her footing fled, the deck rising up to meet her. The woman cried out with the impact, the metal tore of the choke collar vibrating where it hit the ground.

Teyla spat out blood and tried to right herself. A heavy boot pressed into her chest and held her down there. Through a haze of agony she saw Scar hunched over her, the dagger still in his chest, his tunic dark with alien fluids.

"Bad little Hound," he said thickly, pain rattling his words. "I… I am disappointed in you. I thought we had…. An under standing."

Scar gurgled with distress as he used one hand to ease the curved knife out of his chest. He let it drop to the floor with a clatter. Teyla bared her teeth in a fierce grin. She had injured the Wraith severely, if not enough to kill him.

"You are no more use to me. Your purpose is served." Scar threw a nod to one of the other Wraiths, and the alien disconnected the steel leash from the choke collar. Without a controller to govern it, the collar's mechanism slowly began to tighten, the cogs and cables inside it ticking like clockwork.

Once again, Teyla felt the pain biting into her, the bruised flesh of her throat giving under the implacable metal device. She forced air into her lungs, filling them before the collar grew too tight.

The Wraith left her there to die. Scar glanced over his shoulder as he walked away. "It will not be quick," he smiled, his teeth discolored with blood.

Rodney gaped, for once almost lost for words. Erony… He had thought that they had, well, something. The beginnings of a friendship, maybe, a moment or two of shared interest in things bigger than Halcyon's petty wars and games of empire. He felt foolish. You're just some guy from another planet, McKay, said a voice in his head, did you think you were going to bowl over some alien princess with your rapier wit and brilliant intellect? Of course she was going to be loyal to her homeworld first. Of course she would!

"Erony told you about me?"

Daus's eyes flared with annoyance. "She was quite impressed with you, Doctor. `He can help us', she said. `He is a good man'." The Magnate spat. "Such pitiful sentiment! To think, my own daughter would have the temerity to suggest that Halcyon's supreme ruler place himself in the debt of another?"

Perversely, McKay felt a surge of gladness. "Then… You're saying she didn't tell you to kidnap me?"

If anything, it seemed that every word Rodney spoke made Daus even angrier than before. "Of course not! It is my greatest disappointment. Erony is weak, you fool, weak like her mother. So beautiful and perfect, so sharp and intelligent, but where is her killer instinct?" He raged on, eyes unfocussed, caught in the whirlwind of his own tirade. "A ruler must be heartless to truly lead a nation. Pity is not for the strong. I could never trust her to take the throne. Erony cannot wield the sword with dispassion, she feels the death of each lesser as if it actually mattered… And you!" Daus's fist hovered an inch from McKay's face, and he flinched back. "You have brought it all to the surface, with your ridiculous talk and your interference. She should have left you to die on the ice moon. You made my daughter weak!"

"You're her father and you don't even know her," Rodney managed, but the Magnate didn't hear him, too deep in fury.

"My world… My world and my precious child are ruined!" he said in a wounded snarl.

"And who is to blame?" The voice cut through the air, laden with static. McKay and every other person in the room turned to hear the retort that emerged from the discarded radio. "You are, father!" cried Erony's voice. "You and you alone!"

Daus picked up the device as if it were a poisonous animal, and Rodney saw clearly the indicator light showing that the channel had been open all along. For the first time, McKay saw real fear in the eyes of the Lord Magnate.

The tension inside the flyer's cabin was as thick as smoke. Beckett reached a gentle hand out to touch the young woman's arm, but she shook it off, gripping the radio handset and fixing all her energy upon it. Anger and sadness made her eyes shine brightly.

"Daughter…?" came a voice, whispers of interference beneath it.

"`The Magnate is Halcyon; Halcyon is the Magnate.' Do you remember those words, father? The first line of the Ceremony of the Throne, the words my grandfather spoke to you when he abdicated? We are not the masters of our world, we are its servants! You have turned our noble clans into a pack of squabbling beasts, fighting each other and living off the backs of the commoners. Your cruelty has become our people's… Halcyon is a mirror for the worst facets of your nature."

"I did what I had to do to keep us strong."' insisted Daus. "There was no choice!"

"There's always a choice," murmured Beckett. "It's just not always the easiest one."

Tears ran in streaks down Erony's face, lines of black forming as the formal make-up she wore smudged. "You pit the nobles against themselves to secure your power. You opened that wound-cursed Hive and let our greatest enemy walk among us, masked and leashed as if that excused it!"

"Halcyon would be ashes if not for me!" retorted the Magnate. "Ashes and prey, dead and forgotten!"

Not a single person dared to speak as Daus roared and thundered into the radio. His lips trembled and his words came out in strident barks, but Rodney saw the conflict crossing his face. The man was still, in his heart, the doting father of his daughter, even if the way he showed it was twisted and harsh to McKay's eyes. "I did this for our people, for your mother, for you!" he insisted, shouting to the ghostly voice of his daughter. "I did it out of love, do you not understand?"

"Love?" The sheer bitterness of the word aged Erony's father in a heartbeat, the color draining from his florid cheeks. "Love was left behind when you created this society for us, father. It is a weakness you have expunged. Halcyon has nothing now but hate and anger"

The radio fell silent, the static hiss dying away to nothing as Erony ceased her transmission. McKay watched the man standing before him, the way he cradled the radio in his hands as if it might still give him some answer, some respite from the emotions churning inside him.