Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable, only my OCS and their story.

A/N: to any who are curious, I do have every intention of posting the last chapter of my Daniel story soon. I got sucked into another project, but I needed to get this out of my head before I bounced back to Daniel. Some stories just have to be told, haha!


When the violence causes silence

Evie Kenway ran. Slapping a hand down on a large pipe, she vaulted over it, heart pounding. She followed Jax across the rooftop, dark blue hood covering her chocolate braids, pebbles crunching under her feet with her bow in hand. They preferred to stay in the shadow as much as possible. A shadow could be many things. In this case, it was outside of your prey's perception. Like many beasts, a wraith's first instinct was blood lust, and that meant you could hunt it. The light of the deserted planet's twin suns turned the sky to their left ablaze with hues of red-gold, orange, fuchsia, and deep purple. Empty buildings with darkened broken windows rose against it like misshapen teeth.

Jax leaped over the gap between one roof and the next without missing a step. He hit the opposite roof, still moving. Evie slid her bow over her head and across her chest and followed suit when her feet hit the next rooftop; she rolled with the inertia. The gravel on the roof bit into her legs through her tight grey pants and the back of her clothes as she rolled. She regained her footing seconds later. She stayed just behind Jax as he ran, sharp green eyes on the scene below. The jagged scar that went from her right temple and sharply down her face was a constant reminder of how quickly things could go wrong. In the alley below, their prey screamed, signaling to the other wraith he was on the hunt. In front of the pale creature, Ragnar ran, leading the demon to the trap. Sure-footed and agile, the long end of his braided mohawk slapped against his black tunic as he ran. In the last five years, he had become adept at being the carrot while the rest of them were the stick.

As expected, another wraith screamed in answer, raising the fine hairs along Evie's spine. A twin call sounded from the same direction.

On the buildings on the other side of the alley, others like her, and Jax followed her brother and the wraith, four silent silhouettes against the evening sky. She knew every face as well as her own. Kin born of blood and destruction, they were family bonded by their inheritance of death and loss. They were ever watchful. Ever alert. Doubly so tonight. There was little time to spare thought to the other people who trailed along at a distance behind them or who they were.

Despite the exhilaration and thrill of the hunt, this was no game they played. Evie's gaze darted to the open alleyway a few feet ahead of her brother, expecting to see the other wraith at any moment. She ran faster to catch up with Jax's tall frame. The other wraith calls had come from that direction. She met Jax's blue gaze, with a nod as she passed him while trying to get close enough to her brother so she could eliminate any potential threat and remain unobserved. Jax as always stayed with Ragnar. Jax was the faster runner and the better moving shot with a bow and Ragnar's right hand.

Without Evie realizing it, her hand flexed inside her right gauntlet, inciting a soft hum from the device within. Her fingers curled into a fist as she brought her arm up. The telltale red of the charging energy weapon glowed along the split in the leather. She aimed for the opening of the alleyway, ready to fire at anything that moved.

Ragnar passed the end of the alley, without issue. On the roof across from her, Luke signaled, then pointed toward the alley below.

Evie fell back and turned, moving toward the edge of the building. Her attention remained on the strangers below. She stepped up onto the ledge, and pulled her bow over her head. She nocked the arrow and fired on the exhale.

The arrow landed roughly a foot in front of their audience, just as one of the other wraiths screamed.


"Take cover, kids," John Sheppard said. The one that fired the shot had watched them before, while their companions paid them very little more than a glance. John Sheppard knew a warning shot when he saw one, however.

They had initially followed to help the man the wraith was chasing. Ronon pulled his pistol to shoot when John saw the first of the ones on the roof. Then there were more running past them, and the female who fired the shot had paused, looking at them. It was easy to tell she was trying to decide if they were friend or foe, then she was off running again.

John couldn't say he wasn't curious; whoever these people were, they were good at what they did. Or to coin the phrase, it was pretty obvious this was not their first rodeo, whoever they were.

So, they followed, careful to maintain distance.

Up ahead, a wraith ran from the adjoining alley. A second followed closely on his heels.

Everything happened so quickly from there. John wasn't sure, but he thought the runner slid through a doorway at the end of the alley, that was immediately slammed shut right after. Then the others were there with their bows out. Several arrows rained down before there was a pause. One wraith fell from a shot to the head.

Another screamed. He pulled an arrow from his chest, just in time for John to see the flashing red light of an armed weapon attached to it right before it exploded.

Five Months Later

Evie Kenway wandered along the vendor's stalls, of a busy market square; her attention skimming over the various wares. It had been weeks since she had seen any living civilization, and intended to enjoy this outing. It was time for the annual harvest festival on Cambria, and Evie intended to make the most of it. The society wasn't nearly as advanced as her own once was. When evening came, they would not only light bonfires, but they would illuminate windows and homes with candles. They would also light streetlamps along the cobbled roads. Once upon a time, Evie's home world was marked with electric lights, great universities, and an ever-growing civilization.

In other ways, they weren't so dissimilar; however, this night would be marked with music, drink and merry making.

The fingers of her right hand continually flexed and loosened. Her hand and wrist felt naked without her ever-present gauntlet. On the rare occasion she wasn't wearing it, it felt as though she was missing a part of herself. Ragnar had traded their father's watch for it on one of the first worlds they went to after leaving Nahear.

Evie protested trading something that was so precious to their father, but remembered Ragnar saying, "All their father would want now was to know Evie could protect herself."

Ragnar was the one who taught her how to use it.

Ragnar would also be unimpressed if he knew she had tucked it inside the pack she wore on her back. She also collapsed her bow down and placed it inside her pack, as well. Despite having those items tucked away, Evie was not completely stupid, as Ragnar might imply. She was by no means unarmed. She still wore a small energy pistol concealed under her coat and had a knife tucked inside her boot.

But then again, that would not matter to Ragnar. He was rarely impressed. Especially not when Evie made announcements like how she planned to take a trip and by herself. She and her safety were only eclipsed by one other. It was that same other that tempered her brother's nature and convinced him Evie didn't need Jax or one of the others tagging along for her own good. Evie did truly understand why he preferred to keep her close. It was the same thing that brought them all together; they needed to hold onto what they could of who they once were. Still, sometimes, Evie needed to see something besides annihilated planets, constant devastation and the dirt and rough places they chose to lay their heads. As silly as it sounded, sometimes she just wanted to pretend or forget, to bathe and to sleep in a real bed. Sighing heavily, Evie reached up and worked an errant hair back into the thick braid wrapped around the right side of her head. She ran a hand down the identical one on the other side of her head when she finished.

Evie stopped, eyeing several bolts of fine material, and skimmed her fingers over them. She admired the softness and color of the pale green shot through with silver threads. Once, she would have bought such things without thought. Though she rarely chose to wear dresses, like some from her world, she would have purchased it anyway. Evie's style tended more toward the practical, as she originally intended to follow in her father's footsteps by becoming a battlefield surgeon as he had once been. If anything at the very least, his assistant. She had spent most of her time in trousers and suspenders with rolled-up shirt sleeves or a white apothecary's coat.

She would still have bought the fine material and hid it away in her secret box of somedays and maybes, however. How far away that all seemed, now.

Evie jostled the pack she carried, wrapping her hand around the strap as she adjusted its seat. She smiled at the young women awaited her request. "Give me eight lengths, please," Evie said, and pulled her pack off her shoulder. She may have no use for such pretty things these days, but Ragnar's wife would love this. Amara would make something beautiful for herself.

Evie waited patiently as the girl cut and wrapped her purchase. Her stomach growled loudly as the breeze carried the scent of roasting game and meat pie to her nose. She handed the girl her coins and tucked the parcel inside her pack.


Thanks for reading!