ten_fwd | Battling starvation

The old Wraith hadn't thought he'd last this long. That he was still functioning at this point was a show of sheer power of will and stubbornness.

The one who had brought him onto this ship - Q, was it? - really must have a cruel sense of humor, to put him there in a situation that would make him starve. There was food around, sure, with all the humans populating this ship, and he was sure that many of the other species on board would do just as nicely. But, it just wasn't accessible. If he started feeding on people, he'd soon be found out. Especially with Sheppard on board. The colonel was sure to recognize the signs. The Wraith would be found out and locked away to continue to starve. Or they would simply execute him. At this point, the possibility of that was almost appealing.

But there was hope, and so he'd struggled on, working in the labs to find the solution to his problem, hardly ever leaving them. And he was close, he was sure of it. Very close. Only that it was getting hard to think. A functioning brain was really a prerequisite thing when one was trying to alter ones DNA.

And, perhaps this wasn't the best place to try to work, sitting in Ten Forward. All he would have to do to pull himself away from starvation was to lean over and grab someone from the table next to his, or someone passing by. But, again. That would lead to an execution as a best case scenario. Though it was tempting.

He'd had to get out from the labs, though. His thoughts had been running in circles, getting him nowhere, and he'd needed a change in scenery to break that loop.

Now, if he could only push away the temptation and distraction that the people around him provided, and if he could will his fingers from shaking as he ran them over the screen of the PADD...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"There are always ways." For but a second he glances at a couple of red-shirted crew members who walks by his table. There's no reason for it, really. Yes, they are tempting; everyone in the room is. It's simply a faked gesture, hinting at something he isn't even contemplating on doing.

Orlin makes a point in looking behind him at the humans who entered, before looking back.

"Yes, I'm sure there are always ways." He remarks, still keeping his tone neutral. "And a myriad of alternatives, if one path is blocked."

A threat? Maybe. Orlin wasn't going to do anything. He couldn't. His hands were tied with the rules the Others imposed on him. He'd been punished once for breaking their fundamental rule...

...Never again.

"How long have you been on board?"

"And sometimes hindrances must simply be overcome." Which is exactly the point of his current work. Since the food source that's actually available isn't suitable, he has to make it suitable.

But if this is indeed an enemy from the past he has in front of him, he's more than willing to bet that his words will be interpreted in a completely different way.

"For too long already."

What did that mean? The Wraith was planning on overpowering the humans? He could find out... Easily. But would that count as interfereing? What if whatever he finds out prompts him to act...

No. It was too risky. There was a chance the Others were still present in this universe and might pull him back for interfereing.

"And yet you haven't acted on your condition yet?"

"Would I simply wait and let my condition deteriorate? Certainly not." He scoffs in disdain at the thought. He's not acting on his hunger, but he is taking other steps to improve his situation.

"It is possible you were just biding your time."

It does raise a valid question, however; Why hasn't this Wraith fed? Why hold back on instinct?

This was something he meant to find out... Pretty soon.

He can guess what the man (ancient?) is getting at, but for now he'll play along. See how far they can talk without saying things straight.

"Biding my time? For what?" He arches a hairless brow. "To grow weaker?"

"I have no idea." Orlin remarks, casually. "Does your condition weaken you?"

"Obviously." Seated now with his hands resting flat on the table, the shaking isn't really noticeable, but he knows how he looks and that the man saw the shaking earlier.

"Then you have my sympathies." You life-sucking parasite. "Unfortunately, I can't assist in any way."

"I would imagine not." Not like an ancient would help a wraith even if he could. Or that the wraith would accept the help, even if it was offered.

"I hope you find a solution." Orlin remarks, turning to leave. "...And don't give in to the temptation to take a shortcut." He adds.

Battling starvation

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