Consciousness returned with a jolt.
The survivor snapped his eyes open, but before he could even process where he was, the Wraith commander was already on his feet. It was only then that he realized he was no longer on the planet where he had spent long years. Moreover, all his armor had been stripped away, leaving him only in his leather everyday suit. The multiple rents and holes in the chest area served as a grim reminder of why he had lost consciousness in that battle.
He wasn't on the small Lantean ship he had seen, either—the room he was in was far too spacious. Its interior had a very distinct aesthetic, leaving no room for doubt.
He was in a cell of Lantean design. A spacious cube with metallic bars and energy barriers between them stood in a large room whose perimeter was swallowed by darkness, creating an oppressive atmosphere.
"Ah," a voice drifted from the shadows ruling the corners of the vast dungeon. "Finally awake."
The survivor cast a swift glance at the man stepping out of the shadows.
"You!" the survivor's raspy bass roared as he saw the familiar young man who had lured him into the trap on the desert planet. "I will kill you and drain your life!"
"Yeah, yeah," the man smiled crookedly, pacing around the cage. He held a red fruit in his hands, slicing small pieces off with a small knife. "Tried that already. As a result, I'm here," he gestured to the space outside the prison, "and you're in there. My name is Mikhail, by the way."
The survivor bared his teeth as the human carelessly pointed out the Wraith was a captive. Concentrating, the commander directed his full mental power at the man's mind.
It was time for the young Lantean to feel fear before his future killer! Now he would scream in terror, looking around paranoiacally, granting the survivor the pleasure of human panic and horror.
Magnificent entertainment for the Wraith... except, for some reason, nothing was happening. The man remained relaxed, not reacting to the projected whispers, sounds, or translucent shadows attacking from the gloom. Nothing at all!
It was disconcerting.
"Oh, give it a rest," the man grimaced. "I've seen Wraith project hallucinations onto their victims a couple of times. It's impressive, but the second time around, it's not as effective."
"You could not have survived even a single encounter with a Wraith!" the survivor spat, disbelieving.
"Koschei," the Lantean looked at the prisoner with pity. "You saw for yourself how our meeting turned out. And the first time I met a Wraith, I put a hole in him the size of a Teletubby's head."
"How!?"
"Lantean pulse blaster," the man turned so the prisoner could see the familiar weapon on his hip. "A timeless classic. No matter how much regeneration a Wraith has, you can't grow back half a body. Especially if you shoot the head."
"What do you want, human!?" the survivor asked. "Why do you keep me prisoner?"
"Jumping straight to the bargaining stage, are we?" the man feigned surprise. "What happened to anger, denial, and all that?"
"Why are you wasting time?" the Wraith asked.
"Just messing with your head," the man shrugged. "Ever heard of establishing personal rapport?"
"Your tactics will not work on me," the survivor stated proudly.
"Well, I have plenty of time," the man shrugged. "Koschei... By the way, tell me—do you have a real name?"
"I do not care what you call me, human," the survivor said irritably.
"Then I dub thee Koschei," the Lantean declared. "You have something in common. You just won't stay dead, and you carry an egg with you. Only our Koschei had a needle in his egg, while yours—it explodes."
With those words, the man pulled an oval object made of dull material from his pocket.
"Recognize it?" the Lantean asked. "Found it while searching the remains of your crew on the crashed ship. Thanks, by the way. Quite a nice piece of tech. Can be used as a grenade or a mine. We'll find it useful. We only found about a dozen, but how long would it take to replicate? Especially since it's entirely mechanical, not organic like your people usually prefer. Remnants of former glory, eh, Koschei?"
Wraith grenade.
"I do not negotiate with food!"
"A mistake," the man wagged a finger. "See, I negotiated with this apple," he pointed to the fruit, "that it would be tasty and nutritious. And the apple helped me as best it could. Well, technically not me, but our trading partners. But that's beside the point. I think you get the gist of what I mean."
"I see," the survivor narrowed his eyes. "You want to coerce me into cooperation."
"Better cooperation than 'capitulation,' believe me," the man quipped. "In the latter case, that position would precede a subsequent colonoscopy. You see, we have enough of your blood samples, but internal organs—now those would be interesting to study."
The survivor, dubbed Koschei, glanced at his limbs. He found the injection mark on his right arm almost immediately.
"Why do you need my blood, human!?" he asked slowly, suspicion in his voice. Biological material could be used in hundreds of ways—and not all of them beneficial. Especially toward a blood enemy.
"Oh, I see you've found the path to constructive dialogue," the man chuckled. "Shall we play 20 Questions? First, I ask, you answer, then you can ask. Perhaps, if I like your cooperation, you'll get an answer too."
"I will not betray the secrets of my race!" Koschei declared.
"We already know a hundred of your secrets anyway," the man shrugged. "After all, we've had ten thousand years to figure out your race's technology."
Koschei froze, processing the information.
"Ten thousand years?" he repeated cautiously.
"Give or take," the man admitted. "Depends on which planet's rotations you take as a reference point. But I think you get the point: you've been asleep for a very long time. And nobody in your race gave a damn about you. I'm sure they saw your ship go down on Lantea-2."
"What is Lantea-2?" Koschei asked. He guessed which planet was being referred to but was stalling for time to process the information in his mind.
"There are only two planets in the Lantean system," the man enlightened him. As if the Wraith didn't know that!? "We are currently at the bottom of Lantea, the first planet from the local star. And the desert planet where you crashed, in my opinion, is worthy of the name Lantea-2. How do you like it?"
"Unimaginative," the Wraith replied.
"I wasn't exactly going for uniqueness," the man admitted. "But it's simpler than 'the sandy planet where a supply ship with a loser commander crashed in plain sight of the entire fleet, and nobody even sent a rescue party.' Clearly, your own kind didn't love you much..."
"You speak of things you do not know, human," Koschei laughed. "My ship was shot down far from the fleet. We thought we had destroyed all the Lantean combat satellites. But one survived and caught my transport. I almost destroyed it, but I was too late."
"Oh, right," the man said as if remembering something. "We first thought your fighters were responsible. But when we inspected the ship, we saw it only had small guns, like on the Darts. Your story immediately cleared up a few gaps: why nobody came for you, why the satellite wasn't fully destroyed, and why nobody picked up your distress beacon. Thanks for clearing up that historical mystery."
"Is that all you want from me, human?" the Wraith asked. He decided not to mention that he had only managed to cobble together a distress beacon from various parts and power it up after years of being on Lantea-2.
"Just the beginning, Koschei," the Lantean admitted. "As you can see, you are the first Wraith in ten thousand years to be in Atlantis..."
'So that is where we are,' Koschei realized.
The Wraith remained silent. He had already guessed the human needed something from him. Otherwise, Koschei would already be dead.
"You may have defeated the Lanteans, but it didn't lead to a final victory," Mikhail continued. "As you can see, we are here, we survived, we fly quite peacefully around our mother star system. Meanwhile, your people didn't particularly care about your disappearance."
"They will come as soon as they learn you have crawled out from under the ocean," Koschei stated confidently. "And then nothing will stop them from finishing what they started! This time they will be prepared for all surprises! They will know how you defend yourselves, what resources you possess... You cannot win! Surrender to my mercy, and I shall spare the most useful among you!"
"Wow!" Mikhail laughed. "You don't lack for self-importance, Koschei-boy. But your offer is crap, I don't like it, and I won't be part of it. However," the man raised an index finger. "I have a counter-offer. Ever heard of the 'two chairs' dilemma?"
"No," the Wraith admitted.
"And you probably don't have a mother either," the Lantean nodded to his own thoughts. "And with that regeneration, you wouldn't care which chair... anyway," he looked the survivor in the eye without fear. "Option one. We keep you here and slowly take you apart for spares. You'll serve the science of studying Wraith physiology and capabilities. Not voluntarily, of course, but..."
"You cannot force me!" the Wraith declared confidently.
"Before making such statements, if I were you, I'd think about how we managed to transport you from Lantea-2 to Atlantis without you even waking up," Mikhail said in a honeyed voice. "Hint—a Wraith stunner had absolutely nothing to do with it."
Koschei ignored the mockery. It took a great deal of effort. Even though he understood the human was deliberately provoking him and that Koschei had already let something slip, the Wraith could barely keep his temperament under control.
"Option two," Mikhail continued. "You cooperate with us voluntarily. When you're asked something—you answer. When asked to do something—you do it."
"And why would I do that?" the Wraith asked in surprise. "Torture is nothing to me. I can endure any pain. And when my brethren come, they will grant me the right to take your life."
"Even if they come, it won't save you," the man said. "They couldn't break through our defenses ten thousand years ago. And they won't now."
"You may console yourself with that hope!" the Wraith laughed. "When I am free..."
"There is only one way you're walking out of here," Mikhail interrupted, "and that is if I decide you can be trusted and you pose no danger to us. In all other cases, my dear life-sucker, the most you can hope for is leaving this cell as a corpse. Or going to the labs."
"That is what you think!"
"It's what I know," Mikhail assured him. "I'm sure you're counting on your mental tricks. Even more, you've likely sensed a Wraith presence among us..."
Koschei bared his teeth.
"I hate to disappoint you," the man put an expression of mock concern on his face. "That's not a Wraith. Just a woman with your DNA."
"Impossible! An abomination!" Koschei grimaced.
"That's exactly what your kin thought when they learned that one of you decided to graft Wraith genes into humans," the Lantean informed him. "He thought it would make humans taste better. They didn't taste better, but the other Wraith got angry at the renegade and destroyed him. Some he experimented on survived. And now they can sense Wraith. It won't be long before we train our friend to maintain mental contact with you. And then whatever is stored in your skull will be at our disposal. And you will no longer be needed."
"It would take you hundreds of years for such a thing!" Koschei stated. But he wasn't certain of his own words.
"Oh really?" Mikhail smiled. "Let me remind you, Koschei-boy. We built the Stargates. We created the flying cities. We even had a hand in your emergence. And now, ten thousand years later, we don't have much pity for the Wraith. If you get in the way—and you will—we will simply destroy you!"
"I wonder how you think you can do that, human?" Koschei moved swiftly to the bars opposite Mikhail. But his actions didn't cause the man to flinch. He didn't even move. "Before, there were thousands of you. Dozens of races served you. Hundreds of ships fought against us. And we won! And now," he looked triumphantly at his interlocutor, "there are fewer than ten of you in the whole city! Six people! Three of them females! Your forces are laughable! A single cruiser would be enough to capture you!"
"Are you sure about that? That there are only six of us. We're actually shielding a significant part of the city."
"There is no hiding from the power of our minds!" the Wraith declared. "No shields will help you! I know how many you are! And I know that as soon as my brethren come here, I shall tell them everything I have learned about you. Even if you kill me, the Wraith who feeds on you will know that I did this for my people! Atlantis will fall!"
They stared at each other for a while, after which the man smiled.
"Well, look at that, you're already cooperating," he noted.
"What are you talking about?" the Wraith asked in surprise.
"Your race is capable of maintaining mental contact at a distance," Mikhail reminded him. "A significant distance. But there is no one nearby. Not a single Wraith. Which means we are safe."
"So it seems to you."
"As it seems to you that you have a choice," the man stated in an icy tone. "Tell me, Koschei-boy, when bragging about your mental abilities, did you tell me there were only six of us because you're stupid, or were you just showing off?"
The Wraith snarled but remained silent.
"And here, my friend, we've discovered another small peculiarity of your race," Mikhail said with a smile. "You cannot sense those in stasis. And it doesn't matter whether the stasis technology belongs to the Lanteans or the Wraith."
"You are talking nonsense, human!" Koschei said confidently. "We are powerful and sense everything!"
"Then why did you, 'all-powerful' as you are, not sense our prisoners in the stasis chambers?" Mikhail inquired. "Or, for example, the Wraith on the same planet as you?"
"I sensed your woman with Wraith genes!"
"I'm not talking about her," the Lantean specified. "You see, you aren't the only Wraith who crashed in this star system. There's another. Or rather, another—the Queen of the Great Wraith Alliance, who led the attack on Atlantis."
"Queen Death?" the Wraith commander was stunned. "You lie! She died at the very start of the siege!"
"You can console yourself with that assumption all you want," the man assured him. "But I'm telling the truth. I can feel your brain melting. You have a strict hierarchy in your society. Commanders obey queens. And you obeyed. And here, right nearby, your queen is kept—one of the first Wraith in the galaxy. And you, pathetic and useless, are unable to reach her. It must be hard to realize you're unwanted and worthless?"
"I will kill you, human!" the Wraith growled. He didn't waste much time on threats and limited himself to short answers. He needed strength to project mental search queries into space. If there was a queen nearby, as this animal said, they would contact each other telepathically. And together they could devise a plan...
It felt as if icy water had been splashed on his mind.
The Wraith flinched, blinked, and shook his head. Something had happened. His mental abilities had suddenly hit a barrier he could not overcome. No matter how hard he tried, an icy wall surrounded his hot mind. He couldn't even feel anyone beyond this cell.
"How do you like it?" Mikhail asked curiously. "Judging by the confused look on your face, I see our device worked."
"What device!?" Koschei growled.
"The one that managed to recognize your brain waves and blocked your mental abilities," the man explained readily. "Now you can't do anything at all, 'all-powerful' one. Share your sensations—what's it like to be in a dungeon for both body and mind?"
"Enter my cell and find out," the Wraith rumbled. "I promise that before I drink the life from you, I will tell you everything I know. I will help your science."
"Haven't you realized yet?" the Lantean asked in surprise. Koschei looked at him with suspicion. "Well, that's the 'all-powerful' race screwed again. Again. You are already serving our science. Whether you like it or not, we will get everything we want from you."
"Then why did you offer me a choice?" the Wraith asked.
"To start with—I was just stalling for time so the equipment could tune into your brain waves," the man explained. "This will allow us to strip you of your mental tricks with the human mind. Also, it's a demonstration that we can uncover your secrets ourselves."
"Then why are you trying to coerce me into cooperation?" Koschei wondered.
"Haven't you figured it out?" the man asked. "All this will take some time. And if you cooperate, you'll have a chance of not dying on a dissecting table as a guinea pig."
"What is a guinea pig?"
"A little animal," the Lantean explained. "Specially bred by our scientists to test various drugs, vaccines, and so on. Useful things. But it's not a Wraith, and we can't test various types of biological weapons against your race on it... You, however, are another matter."
"Trying to scare me, are you?" Koschei narrowed his eyes.
"Outlining the prospects," Mikhail specified. "You understand yourself that almost any Wraith will do for our purposes. Even a Wraith soldier. He might be dull, but we don't need a genius here either."
"But you don't have a Wraith soldier," Koschei reminded him. "Besides, they must be controlled!"
"Isn't it great, then, that we have our own person with Wraith DNA?" Mikhail said happily. "And scanning your mind during mental work helped us identify the areas of the brain we need to develop in her."
"Wraith and humans are not alike!"
"You're wrong, my ancient hungry friend. You descended from the Iratus bug that fed on a human. We have far more in common than you'd care to admit. So, we will learn to control Wraith soldiers and strip you of your mental tricks. To begin with. And then, we'll find a way to turn off all the gates in the galaxy and launch the Attero device. Need a reminder of what will happen to your hyperdrives?"
Koschei roared deafeningly, striking the barrier in powerless rage.
"That device destabilizes the operating frequencies of our hyperdrives!" he barked. "Any of our starships that enters a hyperspace window will be destroyed."
"Exactly," Mikhail nodded. "The Ancients launched it, tested it, but turned it off because its operation also affects the Stargates. They explode when activated while the Attero device is running. And they destroy planets. What a shame... But imagine how easy it will be for us to wipe you all out if we can neutralize the negative consequences? The gates will survive, and your ships will either explode or be unable to use hyperdrives. And all our ships will have to do is track you down one by one and destroy you. And such an extermination could go on for years. Because you won't be able to escape us either through the gates or on ships."
"Because our organic hyperdrives simply cannot have any other operating frequency," Koschei concluded. "Merciless."
"Exactly my point," Mikhail nodded. "As you can see, our tactics have changed in ten thousand years. Cooperate, and I will spare your life. More than that, you might even become an ally. You could lead a hive that would be the primary one among the others. Together we'll eliminate the redundant Wraith, and your hive will have enough humans for feeding in any situation. Of course, if you even look at us sideways, we'll give you a proper thrashing."
"Since when do Lanteans negotiate with Wraith?" Koschei asked suspiciously. "You offer me cooperation, a hive of my own, you're even ready to provide humans for feeding... there are only six of you, what can you achieve!?"
"For example, study your physiology, learn exactly what circumstances facilitate feeding, and fix them," the man said. "And then, while the other Wraith are in hibernation—which is exactly where they are now—we will spread a medicine through all your feeding grounds. And when the Wraith come for food, they'll find it untasty. Perhaps even poisonous. You will die off one by one."
"We would sooner exterminate the planets where the food is contaminated!" the surviving Wraith laughed. "We will destroy dozens of peoples, but the rest will be our feeding base. Everything will fall back into place. The weak will die, the strong will become even stronger."
"Yes, that would work," the man smirked. "If only a few planets were vaccinated. But what if they all are?"
Koschei bared his teeth.
"The Wraith have another fifty years of sleep," the man calculated. "In that time, one or two, or even more generations will be born to the vaccinated. And they will all inherit the immunity to feeding. And we, safe here, will just watch you starve to death. Но you can stop my plans for your extermination. Just give me what I need."
"You are offering that I help you by revealing the secrets of my race so you can destroy us more effectively and not waste time getting information from me involuntarily?" Koschei figured out, noticing the Lantean pull a scanner from his pocket and switch something on. In the far corner of the cell room, some lights flickered on and off.
Now he had no doubt left. The cell was dimly lit to hide the equipment the humans had installed here from his perception. While Mikhail stalled for time, they were scanning and studying him. Getting all the data they possibly could.
If this continued, he would become completely unnecessary to them. And then they would kill him.
Or he was being offered to become a traitor, to cooperate for the sake of killing his race more effectively. If the other Wraith found out, he would become target number one. Cooperating with humans, helping them in the fight against his own brothers... it was a crime of the highest order.
The moment he agreed, there would be no turning back. He would be killed by the first Wraith commander or queen who learned of what he had done.
There weren't many options—either refuse and die after he ceased to be useful, or help and study them, looking for ways to escape. If he could still take valuable knowledge with him.
"Mmm," Mikhail's voice sounded. "What fascinating information is coming from you, dear friend."
"What are you talking about!?"
"I said we were scanning you, didn't I?"
"You did."
"Well, we've found out," the Lantean tapped his device's display, "that when feeding, Wraith inject humans with a special enzyme that makes them strong for a certain period."
A bit of Wraith physiology.
Koschei instinctively hissed a threat through his parted jaws. What else had these humans managed to learn from him!? Koschei turned his right arm as if casually, to look at the spot where the enzyme pouch was located under the skin. Yes, there was an injection mark there too. They had also taken a sample of the enzyme he used for feeding.
And this was only the beginning!
"And I've become curious—why do you strengthen us during feeding?" Mikhail mused, pacing around the cell. "Helping your food during the eating process by giving it strength... it doesn't smell of altruism on your part, of course. I think it's something else... Come on, Koschei, don't pull the Wraith by the feeding sucker, help with the brainstorming. You're starting to realize it yourself—you either put your head in a noose right now, or you answer to your own kind later for helping us understand the Wraith and find a way to destroy them. They killed their own comrade who tried to make humans 'tastier' without the slightest hesitation."
"What guarantees are there that by helping you, I am not giving you a weapon against my own people?" the Wraith asked.
"My word."
"The word of a human," the Wraith roared with laughter. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly as much as yours," Mikhail cooled his fervor. "The fact is, I only need you for a few experiments, nothing more. Help me, and I'll help you. Refuse, and I'll take you apart into DNA strands and stabilize a weapon that will destroy you all."
"Stabilize?" a gurgling roar escaped Koschei's throat. "You said you were planning to create it. Does that mean you already have it?"
"A race living in Pegasus has a prototype," the man answered. "You understand I won't give you its name or coordinates. But I can pay them a visit and help them finish it. With our technology... by the way, you understand that tests will be required. Care to volunteer?"
"R-a-a-a!!" the Wraith barked, backing away from the cage. "Do not think you have backed me into a corner, human! Cooperation with you is death for me!"
"No doubt," Mikhail huffed. "And refusing is even more certain death. But as I said—if you cooperate, you have a great chance of getting rid of all those who can harm you."
"You want to destroy most, if not all, of my race and you think I will help you?" Koschei barked.
"I think you didn't drink the life from the people on your ship and kill your own crew just to die on a lab table," Mikhail said smoothly. "You want to live. Just like all of us. I'm offering you a chance to survive and become stronger. Imagine that competing hives will be dealt with by our ships, not you? You'll eliminate the other contenders for feeding grounds and become the strongest Wraith in the galaxy."
"A Wraith whose life and position will depend on whether you reveal the secret of our cooperation," Koschei smirked. "The prospect is not very joyful. I do not believe you would allow even my hive to continue feeding on humans! They are your descendants! It is inhuman from your point of view!"
"Yes," Mikhail didn't even blink. "But imagine—we have enemies among humans too. And as you've noticed, there aren't many of us. What would you say if I tossed you the coordinates of planets where my enemies are settled? You could feed on them without any trouble. And my ships wouldn't come to orbit and kick your regenerating ass. How's that for a deal?"
"Eventually the enemies will run out," the Wraith noted. "There are not that many humans in the galaxy. And the Pegasus galaxy is not all that large."
"Enemies never run out," Mikhail countered. "But don't look so far ahead, my friend. You can always create new humans."
"We destroyed the device with which the Ancients seeded the galaxy," Koschei recalled. "And we do not have millions of years for you to build a new one and plant new life."
"And why would we need new life?" the man specified. "There are plenty of ways to increase the number of humans. Or, by studying your physiology, we could give humans vaccinations not so you die when feeding, but so they don't die from it. And then the key reason for humans to hate Wraith would vanish, wouldn't you say?"
"A utopia," Koschei snapped. "We tried to do something similar but couldn't."
"Or you just didn't have time because the Lanteans were on your heels, wanting to destroy you," Mikhail reminded him. "If we agree, we'll do it together. Solve a common problem. And then humans and Wraith will part ways peacefully. You won't have to risk yourselves looking for new food, and we won't be inventing more and more ways to destroy you. The deal can be adjusted as new opportunities arise. After all, the full power of Lantean science is on our side. And that's a lot of information."
Koschei did not take his eyes off the man. Thoughts were swarming in his head, each more cunning than the last. At the moment, the human had him backed against a wall. Either cooperation—and a possible death later. Or refusal—and death in the very near future. His offers were enticing, of course... but too optimistic. If what he proposed to eliminate the enmity between humans and Wraith was actually feasible, it was only in the distant future.
And so much could happen before then... alliances are made and alliances are broken. The strong switch sides with the weak. But that wouldn't happen if he died on a lab table.
"The enzyme is injected into the animal's body so that the painful sensations of feeding do not kill it before we take all its life force," Koschei said.
"Yeah, I know," Mikhail nodded.
"Then why did you ask me that?" Koschei asked in surprise.
"Testing your honesty," the Lantean admitted. "I think you're already thinking about how to deceive me and use the deal for your own interests."
The Wraith bared his teeth.
"As if you aren't thinking about how to use me for maximum benefit," he smirked.
"Believe me—I need less from you than you need from me," Mikhail assured him. "The offer of help for the future is just a lead-in so we can coexist peacefully. If you don't want it—well, then we'll go to war. With everything we have. And this time, cloning facilities won't help you."
Koschei looked intently at his interlocutor. Wraith cloning facilities had been used during the war with the Lanteans to rapidly increase Wraith numbers and gain an advantage over the enemy. But they required a vast amount of energy. And the Wraith couldn't produce it themselves. Only the Lantean power sources captured during the war had made that and much more possible.
"You know much about my race, human."
"I warned you."
"Which makes it all the more doubtful that you actually need my help," Koschei narrowed his eyes.
"I'm just saving time," Mikhail spread his hands.
"But my help will have its price," the Wraith warned. "I need to feed. And you will give me another dwelling, not this cell!"
"As for the latter—first you show your usefulness in one matter, and then we'll see how to solve your housing problem."
"And you have no objections regarding the feeding?" Koschei asked in surprise.
"Like I said—I have enemies," Mikhail smiled. And he did it the way Wraith do. "I've saved a couple for a snack. Just for you."
"Then bring them here!" Koschei demanded. "I shall taste their life, and then we shall talk!"
The man shook his head.
"First you tell me about the feeding process, Koschei," the Lantean said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I want to know everything about it. As well as whether you can not only take life but give it. And yes, I know you can. I'm interested in how effectively that can be applied to humans who have spent a very long time in stasis."
The Wraith looked curiously at his interlocutor. It seemed Mikhail's words about knowing many Wraith secrets were not empty bravado. Gift feeding was one of the greatest secrets of Koschei's race.
"Agreed, human," the Wraith said. "I will tell you something about gift feeding. And then you will give me food. And only after that will I finish my story."
"Sounds like a plan," Mikhail approved. "So, is aging in stasis reversible?"
"Yes," Koschei admitted reluctantly. "Like any other. We can return strength and youth to weak bodies. And we did so for our spies among humans many years ago..."