Stargate: Benjamin_Green - Chapter 189

Wraith orbital station

The dank atmosphere found aboard the impressively large Wraith orbital station did little to improve the ever fluctuating mood of the queen known as the First. Wraith queens were not known for their good nature. The already volatile nature of the dominant queen further suffered from the recent introduction of the nanites that now coursed through her veins. Her normal intimidated and seemingly frightening tantrums of rage were magnified by these minuet invaders.

Cellular invasion and replacement was a volatile process at the best of times. Unique genetic factors found in only the female members of the Wraith brought about a biological confrontation of epic proportions. Nanites in the queens bloodstream were generating an immune response unlike any predicted by computer modeling. Ruthlessly, the nanites attempted to replicate again and again. While successful in this task, regenerative powers owed to specific genetic makeup swiftly destroyed the invaders. In the process, she began to suffer diminishing control over higher mental function. In addition to this, a random twitch had begun to take hold in her hands, much to her chagrin.

Unable to cope with the flood of emotion, she stormed the halls relentlessly. Weaker commanders of her fleet had taken to avoiding the rampaging queen if at all possible. If encountered, these commanders quickly made their way down any adjoining corridor to escape the impending fray. While this did little to assuage the ever present Wraith ego, survival instincts welling up within them made the choice to retreat a certainty. Sometimes it was simply better to be safe than sorry.

Not yet reaching epidemic proportions, the nanite infection raged nonetheless. Individual crew members of four Hives carried these invaders within their bodies. Fluids circulating throughout the body of the orbital station also carried these same nanites, in small quantities. Replicating unchecked, these would in time come to infect all aboard if left unchecked. Everyday, this virulent and cancerous infection would continue to grow.

In the throne room, the queen and infected commander engaged in open discussion on the current tactical and strategic situation in the galaxy. There was much to be discussed. On all levels of Wraith life, the greatly increased Lantean and allied fleet presence was taking its toll. Having dominated Pegasus for ten thousand years, the Wraith found the overall situation unbearable and incomprehensible. Somehow, someway, a solution to the building crisis must be found.

“Before we can begin to combat the threat in our midst, we must first know how many the enemy fleet numbers.” Primary fumed.

“That is not a question that can be answered with any ease my queen.” The infected commander replied.

“Excuses!” Primary screamed shrilly.

“My queen, this is not simply an excuse. The Lantean fleet is composed of three distinct designs that we are certain of. To that we must add their allies in those known as the Asgard, not to mention the forces of the Travelers.” The commander explained.

“That sounds nothing like a total number.” Primary hissed.

“I estimate the fleet we face numbers in at forty vessels minimum.” The commander replied.

“We defeated the Ancient’s. I refuse to believe that we cannot defeat their descendents.” Primary groused.

“The strength of their technology is something we mustn’t underestimate. Not only do they employ the technology of the Ancient’s, they also bring with them advanced technology unlike what we have faced before.” The commander stated.

“Why have we not yet swept them away into the annuls of history? Could it be because of incompetence?” Primary asked threateningly.

“Every fleet engagement thus far has resulted in the destruction of our Hives and cruisers. Incompetence played no part in their destroying our vessels. They posses a warrior ethos unlike that of the Ancient’s. An easy victory is not to be had in this case.” The commander continued.

“When I demand answers I expect them without stalling.” Primary stated in an annoyed tone.

“Much as we did against in our war with the Ancient’s, we are expanding our numbers exponentially. Cloning is taking place as fast as power levels will allow. Matching this, new vessels are being grown for these new clones. In time, our numbers will turn the tide of battle.” The commander assured her.

“Many of our more fertile feeding grounds now produce nothing. Where are the humans we need to survive?” Primary demanded.

“For some time now our feeding grounds have been subject to the law of diminishing returns. Many reasons exist for this that we are certain of, while a few uncertainties are evident as well.” The commander explained.

“Explain.” Primary ordered.

“We were awoken far earlier than should have occurred. Populations in and around our feeding grounds were not given sufficient time to recover from their cullings before the last hibernation. As civil war erupted among the Hive factions, entire worlds were culled to gain a military advantage. Now it seems that the Lantean’s are actively hiding the many worlds’ human populations in a location we have not yet discerned.” The commander stated.

“The Lantean’s cannot hide every human in this galaxy.” Primary argued.

“In this case, they don’t have to. By simply denying us what we would take from our richest feeding grounds, they deny us the majority of the bounty we could hope to expect. As our numbers grow, this problem will intensify quickly, and spiral out of our control even further.” The commander continued.

“During the war with the Ancient’s, we once faced crushing defeat. Our answer to that dilemma turned the tide of war in our favor resoundingly. Perhaps it is time to go down that path once again.” Primary mused.

“To my knowledge, we lack the means to do such a thing at this time.” The commander replied.

“Your knowledge means nothing. I speak of waking the Harbinger.” Primary hissed with satisfaction.

“The Harbinger’s are no more my queen.” The commander stated in unsure tones.

“One remains. Prepare a cruiser. The time to begin is upon us.” Primary said with glee.