"Daniel, I said no." Heads turned as Colonel Jack O’Neill and Dr. Daniel Jackson made their way towards the gateroom. Not many people were brave enough, or was it foolish enough to argue with the colonel when he used that tone of voice. Daniel Jackson undoubtedly was, although which category he fit in was often the subject of some debate.
"Why, Jack? Give me one good reason why you can’t ask General Hammond to extend the mission. All I’m asking for is forty-eight hours. This is a chance of a lifetime to study Akkadian cuneiform. You know I haven’t had the opportunity to research it since P3X-866." Noting the question in Jack’s elevated eyebrows, the young archeologist added, "Oannes, Nem’s planet."
"Dammit Daniel, don’t remind me. I still can’t go to MacDonalds and order a fish sandwich thanks to old Nem-nuts," the colonel grumbled.
"But Jack..."
"Daniel, listen to me, read my lips, the answer is no! SG-1 is gating to PS-IOU- what ever the hell it is. Carter is going to complete a series of test, for what purpose she and she alone knows. Twelve hours later we are going to do an about face and march our little SG butts back through the wormhole. I am going to take a long weekend in which I will park my colonel type butt in the front row, did you catch that Danny Boy, front row of the hockey playoffs. Now quit nagging and go get geared up. That’s an order."
Knowing that he had lost the battle, Daniel turned and headed towards the locker room. Muttering under his breath ignoble comments about the military, hockey, and a certain bull-headed colonel he added, "And I don’t nag."
From down the hall he heard Jack say, "Yes, you do."
"No, I don’t," he mumbled sullenly.
From further down the hall he heard the triumphant voice of the colonel shout out, "Do."
Reaching the locker room he threw open the door with such force it sprang back and nearly knock his glasses off. His face reddened not in anger, but with embarrassment when he realized his teammates were gearing up in the locker room and had witnessed his childish display of temper.
"Geesh, Daniel, what’s got you in such a mood?" Carter asked.
While he fumbled with his locker, Daniel gave his friends a brief rundown of his argument with O’Neill. "And then Jack had the effrontery to accuse me of being a nag."
"No, he didn’t," Sam remarked seriously, the sarcasm in her answer worthy of the colonel himself.
"What do you mean by that, Sam?" Daniel looked at the blonde major, his blue eyes wide with suspension. "I don’t nag Jack, do I?"
"Indeed you do, Daniel Jackson," Teal’c answered for the major, "almost constantly."
"Sam?" Daniel asked the unspoken question.
"Sorry Daniel, but Teal’c right, you are a class ‘A’ nag."
Suffering the silence of the unjustly accused, Daniel finished his packing and censoring his desire to sway Sam and Teal’c to his side of the fence, he followed them to the gateroom, his face a study in gloom. It was a sorry state of affairs when a hockey game was more important than cuneiform. He would never understand the military.
Daniel was still pouting as SG-1 received the go ahead from Hammond and Jack headed towards the wormhole. "Let’s go Campers. Heads up for lions and tigers and bears oh..." The wormhole mercifully swallowed the colonel’s quip.
Seconds or perhaps light years later the team was deposited neatly near a craggy cliff overlooking a spectacular ocean view. Below they could hear the waves breaking against the base of the cliff in syncopated rhythm. Sea birds remarkably similar to gulls dipped and danced in the breeze, their glistening feathers flashing in the sunlight. It was a Realtor’s dream come true, ocean front property and no pesky zoning laws. Bring on the string bikinis.
The salty breeze caressed O’Neill’s face and he felt some of the tension he habitually carried ebb away. Glancing over at his team, Jack noted the same relaxed expression on the face of Carter and surprise, surprise, will wonders never cease, Teal’c. Daniel, he noted, still appeared to be pissed. Well that was too damn bad. It was a full days hike to that village he wanted to go see and that meant a full day back. Throw in another day or two before he could drag Professor Rock Monkey away and he could kiss the playoffs goodbye. Daniel would just have to get over it.
"Carter, the area looks clear. Go ahead and get started on those tests. Teal’c you stick with Sam and I’ll do a patrol outside the area. Maintain radio contact," O’Neill ordered. Turning to his young friend, Jack decided to throw the archeologist a bone. "Daniel why don’t you explore a little around here. I bet you could find some nice rocks or shells or something."
"Oh may I, Dad?" Ouch. Jack winced at the sarcasm-laced words. The kid was learning Smartass 101 just a little too well. "Maybe I’ll go down to the beach and build a sandcastle."
Jack watched as Daniel walked down the long slope towards the beach. Oh well, Daniel would pout for a while, but he would get over it. Taking a deep breath of the salty air Jack released a jaw cracking yawn. Boy, he was relaxed. If he didn’t start walking circuits he was going to have to report himself for sleeping on duty and that was a bitch to fill out in triplicate.
Daniel paced back and forth on the beach at the base of the cliff below the stargate. How dare Jack treat him in such an infantile manner. God he was mad. In an attempt to release some of his pent up anger, Daniel kicked the sand which proved to be a monumental mistake as a golden rainbow of grains were caught up in the stiff breeze and redeposited in his eyes, hair, and mouth. Whipping off his glasses, Daniel rubbed his tearing eyes. Well that had certainly helped.
Spitting out the remains of his impromptu lunch, a brilliantly diabolical idea suddenly popped into Daniel’s mind. Kneeling in the sand, Daniel began.
Later when Jack looked over the edge of the cliff in a subtle attempt to check on his wayward friend, his mouth dropped open. There at the edge of the tide in the wet sand, someone had formed a huge hand with the middle finger extended. Jack laughed at Daniel’s ever so subtle message, give the bird colonel the bird. Got it Danny Boy.
Footprints showed that the young sculptor had hiked down the beach. Jack frowned, he really should go find Daniel and chew his butt for leaving the quadrant area, but for the life of him he just couldn’t work up the energy. Plopping down in the grass at the top of the cliff, Jack breathed deeply. He looked at Carter and Teal’c working in the sandy soil and noted that they had apparently decided to take a break as well. Both were sitting, relaxing, and enjoying the ocean breeze kissing their faces. Taking a few more deep breaths, Jack murmured, "Just what we needed. To relax..." He never felt himself fall as consciousness left and the brilliant blue sky was replaced by darkness.
Far down the beach, Daniel failed to notice that the appointed check in time had come and gone. He never saw the Goa’uld cargo ship hover above the stargate. Caught up in his internal dialogue of how unfair Jack could be, he failed to hear the transportation rings activate. He was unaware when the party of Jaffa departed from the rings and spotted the three unconscious forms laying helplessly where they had fallen. He never saw the Jaffa pick up his team mates and drag them towards the rings. He was unaware that the craft containing his friends had come and gone toward a speck of land far in the distance.
By the time Daniel had cooled off enough to realize it was getting late, he had walked quite a long way. Reaching for his radio, Daniel made an attempt to contact the rest of SG-1. Oh crap, they weren’t answering. That meant he had walked out of range. Jack was going to kill him... slowly. Turning back, Daniel did his best to jog in the soft sand. By the time he had gotten back to his sand sculpture, he was breathing hard and ready for a break. Knowing he had to face the music sooner or later Daniel trudged anxiously up the long slope, opting for the former.
That was strange. The area where Sam should have been working was empty. Where was everyone? Glancing at his watch, Daniel knew it was past time for the team to return home, but surely they hadn’t gone without him. Jack wouldn’t do that, no matter how pissed he was, or how badly he wanted to see a hockey game. Would he? A small voice of doubt nibbled at his subconscious. ‘You’re a class ‘A’ nag.’ No, Sam and Teal’c wouldn’t let him. Sinking down to the ground, Daniel drew his legs up and grasped his knees in a protective posture. It was getting late and even the spectacular sunset over the ocean reflecting off his glasses couldn’t gain Daniel’s attention. They had left him. He was alone. Just like before. His parents had left him and he was alone. They were angry, Jack was angry and now he was alone. The mantra kept rearing its ugly head as Daniel rocked back in forth maintaining an unconscious rhythm to the hateful words. He was still in that position hours later when the stargate activated and a MALP lumbered through. Seconds later SG-2 stepped through the wormhole. As the event horizon shut down, Major Warren walked quickly up to the distraught young man rocking at his feet. Squatting down to eye level, the soldier reached out and gently placed a hand on Daniel’s shoulder.
"Dr. Jackson, it’s Mike Warren, are you all right? Where’s the rest of SG-1?"
Slowly Daniel’s eyes lost some of their glassiness. "Major Warren, what are you doing here?"
"General Hammond sent SG-2 to look for you guys when you didn’t report back."
"Jack isn’t back at the mountain?" The voice hesitated not wanting to hear the truth confirmed.
"Of coarse not, Dr. J. You know Colonel O’Neill wouldn’t leave you behind. Why didn’t you gate back yourself?"
"I couldn’t," Daniel answered miserable. "I was so mad at Jack before we left, I forgot to pack my GDO. I didn’t think it would matter because I knew Sam, Jack, and Teal’c had theirs, so I didn’t mention it. I didn’t think it would matter."
The men were interrupted by a shout. "What you got, Griff?" Warren asked his 2IC.
"Sir, we found Major Carter’s equipment over there," he said pointing towards the field, "and Pierce found this over by the cliff." He handed Warren a worn ball cap. The men exchanged a worried glance.
Grabbing the cap, Daniel paled, "It’s Jack’s," he choked as he stated the obvious.
"Is that all, Captain?" the major asked quietly.
"No, Sir, we found signs of Jaffa, but no sign of a struggle," the soldier answered gravely. "If the Jaffa took them, there wasn’t much of a fight. Teal’c staff weapon was leaning against a rock like he had never even used it. Doesn’t make much sense that Colonel O’Neill would be taken without a fight."
Glancing down at the young scientist, Warren noticed with growing alarm that Daniel was clutching the cap, staring into nothingness, and that the rhythmic rocking had begun again.
~O~O~O~
Shit, what the hell had he been doing? His head was pounding with three day bender proportions. His mouth was so dry he couldn’t have worked up a spit if he’d been on fire. Rolling over with a groan, O’Neill’s groping hand touched Carter who snapped out of her unconscious state and delivered a painful kick to her CO’s already pounding head.
"Holy crap, Carter," Jack groaned as he clutched the hammering in his head which had reached Biblical proportions. "I take back what I said about liking your attitude. Could you just once wake up a bit more docile?"
"Sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize it was you," the major apologized.
"It’s okay, Carter," Jack answered, "but let’s make a deal. The next time I grope for you, would you please take off your boots before you kick me in the head?"
"Deal, Sir," Carter grinned. The playful moment over, Sam asked, "What happened, Sir, all I remember was feeling really relaxed and kind of sleepy."
"Same here, Major. We’ll worry about that later. Right now let’s concentrate on finding Daniel and Teal’c and figure out just where in the hell we are."
"Yes, Sir, your right," Carter replied as she got to her feet and walked to the door of the small room they in which they were locked. Looking around their prison, Sam could see that they were trapped with no obvious means of escape. "Looks like we’re in the hold of a Goa’uld cargo ship, Sir, like the one Aris Boch had."
"Sweet," O’Neill grimaced remembering how much he hated the choiceless bargain the bounty hunter had struck with him. Swallowing back the nausea that threatened to make a star-studded appearance, the colonel slowly got to his feet. "Carter, what the heck made us so sleepy? I feel just like I do when I wake up from one of Doc Fraiser’s happy juice cocktails."
"I don’t know for sure, Sir, but I’m guessing that the air had some sort of a gaseous sedative in it. The MALP readings didn’t report anything out of the ordinary, but I can’t think of any other reason we would have all passed out."
"Well that sucks," O’Neill complained.
"Yes, Sir, it does."
Hearing the oh so familiar sound of Jaffa coming closer, Jack got to his feet and began to search in vain for some kind of a weapon. No such luck. Trying to ignore Carter’s worried glances, O’Neill was unprepared when the cargo ship lurched to a stop, throwing the hapless colonel to his knees. Did he mention that this sucked?
Ignoring his protesting knees, in typical Jack O’Neill take-the-bull-by-the-horns- while-waving-a-red-cape style, the colonel walked over to the sealed door and began to bang on it. "Let us the hell out of here."
Almost immediately the door opened to reveal a pair of Jaffa guards carrying a charged staffed weapons.
"Okay, that was a bad plan," Jack mumbled under his breath, just before his aching head collided with the unforgiving metal of the staff weapon. Fighting to stay conscious, Jack picked himself off the floor and wondered just what would happen if he deposited his last MRE on the shiny bronze armor of the guard.
He never got a chance to find out. "You will follow," the Jaffa ordered.
Having no choice, they followed. The bay doors opened to reveal an enormous strip mine. Looking around O’Neill could see hundreds of humans laboring in the hot sun. Jaffa overseers could be seen scanning the ranks in search of slackers. Instantly Jack flashed back to his first trip to Abydos. The Abydonians working in the heat like ants in a colony while mining naquadah for Ra. Glancing at Carter, O’Neill noticed her face drain of color.
"Easy Carter," he said as he quietly and unobtrusively reached out a hand to steady her. "Different place, different time."
Jack could see that she wanted to debate him, tell him ," No, Sir, you’re wrong. This is just like Shyla’s planet."
Willing her to believe him, O’Neill gazed intently into the frightened blue eyes. "This isn’t the same as before. We’ll get through this, Sam." He gave her hand a quick squeeze and was gratified when the major returned it with a half smile which couldn’t quite reach her eyes.
"Yes, Sir, we will," she agreed.
In the distance Jack could make out the glimmer of water. Turning casually he completed a 360 without bringing unwanted attention to he or Carter. Shit, it looked like they were on an island. This was such a royal screw up they just had to be on Gilligan’s Island. ‘Just sit right back while you hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip...’
Leading the prisoners down a narrow path to the floor of the mine, the Jaffa ordered them to stop. "These are the new slaves for the mine," he told an overseer.
"Excuse me," O’Neill interrupted, "slaves? I don’t think so."
The colonel’s protest was cut short as an armored fist slammed into his mouth, knocking him to the ground. ‘Oh yeah,’ he thought as he ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood , ‘loosened a tooth on that one.’ His musing was cut short as the blunt end of a staff weapon was pressed to his throat.
"A lesson for you to learn," the guard growled as he increased the pressure on the struggling colonel’s throat, "slaves do not speak unless they are spoken to and you will remember that if you wish to live. You will remember this lesson," he ordered with a smirk, enjoying the panic in the human’s eyes.
Fighting a losing battle with consciousness, O’Neill tried to ignore the black spots dancing in front of his eyes. Focusing on Carter’s scared, pale face, Jack felt himself slipping away into oblivion, just as the guard released the pressure.
"Enough," ordered the overseer. "Give them their equipment and show them where they will work."
Crawling slowly to his feet, Jack rubbed his bruised throat and nodded imperceptibly to Carter’s unspoken question. ‘Fine, Carter, I’m just fine.’
Spitting a mouthful of bloody saliva into the dust, the colonel motioned for Carter to follow the guard. Like they had any choice. Not.
It was brutal work, hot and hard. The soothing ocean breeze which had greeted them at the stargate dared not venture into the deep pit of misery. Water appeared to be a limited commodity and was doled out in small dippers by young children carrying heavy buckets to the workers. O’Neill and Carter worked side by side waiting for a chance to talk, but the guards were watching the newest slaves closely. By the end of the afternoon the colonel’s arms and back were covered with lash marks for misdemeanors he had committed. Sweat stung the shallow cuts as he continued to labor in the afternoon sun.
Sometime in the late afternoon a melodious horn sounded. O’Neill and Carter looked at each other as hundreds of people around them dropped to their knees in the dust of the pit. Shrugging a sore shoulder the colonel mouthed, "When in Rome," and dropped down, grateful for the chance to rest. He watched as a procession of Jaffa marched to the middle of the pit and opened their ranks to reveal Teal’c, bruised and bloody. O’Neill watched with growing anxiety as his friend was stripped of his shirt revealing more abuse at the hands of his captors, and tied to a stout pole which stood there. Jack could see that if it had not been for the ropes binding him in an upright position, Teal’c would have fallen.
"This is a shol’va who fled from his master Apophis," the leader of the guard cried out. "Be aware, as you watch him die a slow death in the heat of the sun that this is the fate of anyone who does not serve his god well."
The guard turned and marched out and as the horn sounded again the pit was once more filled with the sounds of pickaxes biting into the rock. Carter took advantage of the guards momentary lapse of interest to whisper to the colonel, "Sir, we’ve got to get Teal’c out of here. He’ll die."
"I know that, Carter," O’Neill answered with frustration. "Got any suggestions? This is an island. We don’t even know if we’re on the same damn planet. Feel free to come up with an idea."
"Working on it, Sir." Noticing a guard headed their way, the two began to work with a vengeance.
Throughout the seemingly endless afternoon, thoughts buffeted the colonel’s tired mind, just as the guards periodically buffeted his body. ‘Where the hell were they? Would they be able to find a way off this damn island and if they did how would they know where to go to get back to the stargate? How long could Teal’c last in this killer sun without water and most importantly where the hell was Daniel?"
~O~O~O~
Dr. Fraiser glanced at yet another uneaten tray her nurses had offered Dr. Jackson. She already had him on IV’s so he wasn’t going to starve, but refusing to eat was just a symptom of a deeper problem and that had the petite doctor worried. Since SG- 2 had returned from PS3-J43, Daniel had refused to communicate with more than a terse word or two. Even a direct order from the worried General Hammond had been ignored. Refusing to eat, communicate, or even sleep, Daniel lay on his side staring into space, trapped in thoughts he wouldn’t or perhaps couldn’t share. It took every bit of her powers of persuasion to convince the anxious general not to call in Dr. MacKenzie.
Never one for passive interference, Dr. Fraiser was determined to help Daniel before he slipped away from them forever. Pulling a chair in front of her uncooperative patient, Janet brushed Daniel’s shaggy hair out of his eyes in a motherly gesture. What was it about Daniel that made women want to mother him?
"Daniel, I know you’re listening to me. I’m here if you want to talk." Janet began quietly. She was well aware of Daniel’s abandonment issues as a child and already suspected the root of the problem lay in that direction. "I know you and the colonel had an argument before you left. Is that what’s bothering you? Janet watched as tears began to fill the intense blue eyes. "Daniel, listen to me, it is not your fault SG-1 is missing. It was just colossal bad luck. You know Jack wouldn’t leave you if he could have helped it. We’ll find them."
Daniel’s body began to tremble as the tears came faster and faster. As the proverbial crack in the dam burst, Janet gently rubbed the young man’s back, offering comfort and reminding him that he wasn’t alone.
"Janet," he was finally able to say once the flood of tears had diminished to a trickle, " I was just so mad at Jack. He wouldn’t let me go to the village because he had hockey tickets." At the thought of the coveted tickets his friend might never use, Daniel’s chin began to quiver once more.
"So you wanted things your way and the colonel wanted things his," Janet inserted for him. As Daniel nodded miserable she added, "Sounds like two typical bull-headed men to me. She smiled taking the sting out of her words and was delighted when Daniel grinned weakly at her in return.
"I gave Jack the finger," Daniel confessed.
"You what?" the doctor asked incredulously. As Daniel described his sand sculpture, Janet burst out laughing. "Oh I bet the colonel loved it. I would have paid a months salary to see his face. Daniel, how about I spring you from that hospital bed and we’ll go find a cup of coffee and some soup? Then we’ll give you a chance to clean up and go see the general?"
~O~O~O~
"Dammit, Carter that stings," Jack snapped as the major dabbed antibiotic cream on the lash marks decorating his upper torso.
"I know that Sir, and I’m sorry," Carter winced at the hiss of pain as she applied a liberal coat to a particularly painful looking mark across the colonel’s stomach. "We need to keep these cuts from getting infected if we can. Working with all that dust is asking for trouble."
"Know that, Carter," O’Neill groaned. Where’d you get the ointment? I thought the guards had taken all your gear."
"They did, Sir, but I had stuck the tube of ointment in my pocket when we were doing the experiments. I got a splinter and used it then. I meant to put it back in the med kit, but, well, you know..."
"Did you get it out?"
"What, Sir?"
"Did you get the splinter out?"
Smiling at the concern in her CO’s voice she answered, "Yes, Sir, no problem."
Stretching out on the hard rocky floor of the sleeping area where they had been brought at the end of the day, the colonel covered his eyes with his arm. "That’s good," he muttered. "Wish you’d brought about a truck load of aspirin. Gonna rest for a few minutes now, Carter," and his deep even breathing confirmed that he was doing just that.
Watching the steady rise and fall of the colonel’s chest, Sam mind raced, contemplating what they were going to do. She knew the colonel would never admit how rotten he felt, but she could read it in his normally fathomless brown eyes. She was well aware that while the guard had pretty much left her alone, Jack had been a continual whipping boy throughout the long day. Added onto the fact that he must have the mother of all headaches and it spelled one miserable colonel. Sam was worried about Teal’c. She hoped he was using the quiet of the night to rejuvenate his battered body through kelno’reem, but it had been impossible to tell how badly hurt the Jaffa was from a distance. "Daniel," she whispered, "I hope you’re safe. Maybe you can help us, because I just don’t know what to do." Curling up close to the colonel, Sam close her eyes in an attempt to shut out the problems buffeting her weary mind.
~O~O~O~
Janet Fraiser watched anxiously as Daniel pounded the table causing the water pitcher to slosh dangerously close to General Hammond’s reports. Noting the SGC commander’s growing ire, Janet bumped the excited archeologist with her knee under the table, and whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "Daniel settle down, you’re not helping the situation."
Forcing himself to relax, Daniel apologized to Hammond. "General, I’m sorry, but you’ve got to let me go back to PS3-J43. I think that we’ll discover the clues we need to help us find SG-1 in the village. Let me contact the Tok’ra. Maybe they can help."
"Dr. Jackson, despite your passionate argument that you have a feeling, what kind of hard core facts can we look at. I’ve got to know that by sending another team in there I won’t be ordering their capture or worse?"
Daniel shook his head miserable. "I don’t have any facts, General, I just know."
"Then I’m sorry, Son, but ..." Hammond paused as blue eyes begged him to change his mind. ‘Oh hell, he was getting too old for this. He was going soft.’ "All right Dr. Jackson, you have a go. Go contact the Tok’ra and see if Selmak is available. After all Jacob has a vested interest in the outcome of this too. Be ready to depart with SG-2 as soon as Jacob arrives."
"Thank you, General, you won’t be sorry," Daniel shouted as he shot out of his chair and flew towards the door.
As Janet Fraiser turned and followed she said, "Thank you, General, you did the right thing."
"I hope so, Doctor, I hope so."
~O~O~O~
The SG team that stepped through the gate was vastly different than the one that had so innocently invaded the planet a few days earlier. These soldiers were on high alert. Their own were missing and by God they were going to find them. No, damn snake was going to get away with snatching the SGC’s flagship team.
Major Warren signaled orders to his team. Daniel and Jacob Carter were already discussing theories and the who, what, where, when, and why in the world of the Gou’ald. Communication was a bit difficult due to the gas masks Dr. Fraiser had insisted the team wear, after several of the members complained of head aches and dizziness on their last trip through. The doc might be on to something. You just never knew. It paid to be careful. Warren signaled for his team to begin the long hike to the village unaware that the gate’s activation had already relayed to the First Prime that yet another party of future slaves had stumbled into their trap.
‘Roa’tah would be pleased. It was difficult to replace the slaves who died and the god’s demand for the naquada never ended as he contrived to use the mineral to secure a place of importance within the system lords.’ The prime decided he would give the calmaderon gas time to subdue these intruders and then he would send his Jaffa with a cargo ship to pick them up and deliver them to their new home. Once the gas had taken effect there was no escape and it was a simple matter of tracking where the victims had fallen.
~O~O~O~
The night had passed too quickly for their exhausted bodies to feel refreshed. Sam bit back a groan as strained muscles made their presence known. Shooting his 2nd a worried glance, O’Neill whispered, "You know, Carter, you’re a physics major. You should understand the principle of operating this whole mining shebang."
"What would that be, Sir?"
Maintaining his copyrighted deadpan face, he answered, "It’s ‘mine’ over matter, if you don’t ‘mine’, it don’t matter."
"I’ll try to remember that, Sir," Sam answered, rewarding his efforts to cheer her up with a small grin.
It would be another long miserable day and she only hoped that the Jaffa guards would ‘mine’ their own business. Keeping her little pun to herself, not wanting to upstage the colonel, Sam turned with a sigh and joined the wretched line of humanity trudging wearily to begin the day’s tasks.
As they entered the pit to begin their appointed assignments, Carter could see that Teal’c was grievously ill. He was pale and sweating heavily, despite the relative coolness of the early morning air. Hurrying over to O’Neill she spoke in a muted whisper, "Colonel, we’ve got to help Teal’c. I think maybe Junior’s hurt, too, or he
would have been better this morning."
His eyes squinted against the glare, O’Neill nodded. "Never thought I root for a gou’ald, but I sure do wish Junior was doing his job. I’ll see if I can work my way over to Teal’c and see what’s going on. You stay here, Carter, and keep an eye on the situation," he ordered.
"Be careful, Sir, those guard are pretty touchy," she warned, unconsciously glancing at the colonel’s bruised body.
"Don’t I know it. All right Ginger, stay here with Mary Ann," he said handing Carter his pick. The Skipper is gonna go see what he can do to help Mr. Howell and Lovie." Grinning despite the seriousness of the situation, he muttered, "Gilligan, little buddy, sure wish I knew where you were."
As casually as possible, O’Neill made his way down the pit towards the center where Teal’c stood. It was a difficult task for the 6-2 colonel to blend in with the shorter people working around him. ‘The old preverbal sore thumb,’ he grimaced as a guard looked his way. Dropping down to tie his boot, Jack avoided the guard and began to slowly work his way closer to Teal’c. ‘Ya just never know when the old black op blend-into-a crowd training will come in handy,’ he thought.
He had reached the floor level of the pit and was nearing Teal’c when a disturbance broke his concentration. A young child, a girl by the looks of it, had tripped on the loose stone and spilled the bucket of water she was carrying. A Jaffa guard had already backhanded the child, opening a cut on her forehead. Raising a heavy foot the Jaffa was preparing to kick the fallen girl as she lay cringing in the dust. Before the foot could strike its intended victim, Jack launched himself at the guard knocking him to the ground. Acting on instinct, Jack pushed the camouflaged button to lower the Jaffa’s protective hood. Grabbing a fist size rock, Jack began to pound the guard with all his might. Within seconds the colonel had crushed the Jaffa’s skull, but still the rage he felt was undiminished long after the Jaffa was dead. ‘No one was going to abuse a child if Jack O’Neill had anything to say about it.’ Through his red-hot anger, Jack thought he heard Carter yell something, but before he could register what she had said he was struck in the back of the head with such force that he was unconscious before his face scraped the rocky ground.
~O~O~O~
The members of SG-2 had fanned out, surrounding the small temple where Daniel and Selmak were reading with growing alarm. The team had made the journey unchallenged and had lost no time in searching the village for clues. In the tiny temple Daniel had come across a journal obviously written by a scribe or priest. In it he read the history of the village which by all accounts had been a happy place. The men of the village had earned their living from the sea. The women and children had nothing to fear. Then one day from the stone circle came a man with glowing eyes named Roa’tah. With him he brought many warriors. The warriors took the young men of the village back to the stone circle where a flying ship awaited. The horrified villagers watched as their youth were forced into a tight circle and disappeared from sight. The ship roared to life with the sound of a mighty storm and flew like a great bird across the shimmering water of their sea and out of sight. From that time whenever the ship returned it took more and more of the villagers until not even the youngest or most elderly were spared. The journal ended there and Daniel looked up at Jacob with grief for the people of this village written plainly on his face.
"Daniel, it may not be what you think. The Gou’ald may not be interested in hosts. It sounds to me that this Gou’ald is more interested in workers...slaves."
Seeing Daniel’s strickened look he shrugged, "It happens."
"Why would a Gou’ald need slaves?" Daniel asked naively.
"There maybe naquadah on this world and the Gou’ald wishes to mine it," Selmak answered.
At that moment the men were interrupted by the sounds of staff weapon blasts and the answering of machine guns. Dropping to the floor, Daniel crept over to the open door and watched as Warren signaled his men to circle the two Jaffa who were attempting to capture the humans. Daniel watched as a well placed shot dropped one of the Jaffa and as the other turned to retreat a rapid burst of gunfire brought him down as well. It was over in a matter of minutes.
"Did you find what you were looking for, Dr. Jackson?" Warren asked. Picking himself up off the floor Daniel nodded. "Then let’s get back to the stargate before more of those fellows show up," he ordered.
"He’s right, Daniel," Jacob urged. "If we’re right we’ll find our answers there."
~O~O~O~
Jack regained consciousness slowly. Just how many times could one guy get hit in the head? He became aware of two equally unpleasant facts almost simultaneously. First he was tied tightly to a pole and second he was standing up to his armpits in water. ‘Oh, this so sucked.’ Shaking his pounding head slightly in an effort to clear his blurry vision proved to be a monumental mistake as he promptly deposited that crap that past for breakfast in the tidal waves washing around him. "Yewww, way to go Jack, chum the water, maybe you’ll attract some fish." Just what kind of fish he was likely to attract suddenly became apparent as a wave broke over his head. Spitting out the briny water and blinking to clear his stinging eyes, the picture began to make sense. The damn Jaffa had tied him to this post and left him to drown when the tide came in, which wouldn’t be long he thought in a panic as another wave washed over him. It was obvious, even to an dedicated landlubber like him, that the tide was definitely coming in. Make that coming in rapidly. As the waves washed away from the shore they slammed O’Neill’s lacerated back against the unyielding wood of the post. ‘Oh yeah, did I mention that this sucked. If I don’t drown, it’d be my luck to get eaten by Jaws.’ With the amount of blood leaking down his neck attracting the great white shark wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. What the hell had the guards hit him with, an ax? And those damn waves kept washing the blood into the water. ‘How do you spell all you can eat buffet. Tonight’s specialty is Bird Colonel ala pissed, or perhaps O’Neill Omelets ...Jack Jello ...Minnesota Meatballs.’ Spitting out another mouthful of the salty water O’Neill yelled, "United States Airforce Colonels are not supposed to be eaten by sharks!" Of course they weren’t supposed to drown while tied to a post on another planet either, but that was a technicality.
In the distance Jack spotted a cargo ship land near the mine. He prayed that no one else had gotten captured by that bastard Jaffa. ‘Oh please, God, don’t let Danny try to find us and get caught.’ O’Neill’s head dropped at the thought of his young friend spending the rest of his life in the mine. ‘Not the kind of rocks you need to be finding, Space Monkey.’ The colonel was nearly overwhelmed at his failure to protect Carter and Teal’c. ‘I’m so sorry guys. I let you down.’ If anyone had been watching at that moment it would have been impossible to tell if there were tears running down the colonel’s face or if it was just the rising tide washing over his head. For a moment Jack thought of just forcing his face into the water. It wouldn’t be that hard. No harder than it had been to hold a gun to his head after ...
"No, flyboy, get a grip, you couldn’t do it then and you won’t do it now. The bastards will have to kill me first, I won’t do the job for them." O’Neill shifted in his bonds in a futile attempt to raise himself higher to avoid the rising tide.
The colonel never heard the clattering of P-90’s in the distance. He was struggling to keep his face above the water. It was almost impossible to know when to grab a quick breath of air before another wave hit him from behind. He was unaware of anything save the sound of the pounding surf dueling with the pounding in his head and in his heart. Suddenly O’Neill felt something grab his hands. In a panic he swallowed a huge mouthful of water and began to cough as his lungs protested his induction to the saline cocktail. Wincing as something sharp bite through the ropes and into his wrist, Jack thought for a brief moment that Jaws had finally made his appearance. Seconds late, however, he felt the ropes binding his feet snap and Daniel’s dripping head popped from the surf inches from his own.
"Daniel, what the hell are you doing here," he gasped.
"Actually the dog-paddle," Daniel grinned. "Let’s go ashore, Jack and I’ll tell you all about it." Leaning on his soggy friend, the quasi-drown, exhausted colonel made his way to the beach where his long legs determined for the rest of his body that this would be an excellent place to stop. Collapsing, his silver hair mingling with golden sand, Jack closed his eyes and listened to Daniel fill in the details of his rescue, as the waves lapped at the soles of his boots.
Sometime later the leader of SG-2 , his second, and Major Carter approached the pair still in the same position. Daniel sitting quietly next to the colonel, staring off into the waves obviously in deep thought and Jack snoring softly.
"Daniel," Sam said softly, bring the philosopher back to earth, "are you and the colonel all right?"
"What, oh yeah, Sam, we’re okay. Jack is just resting a bit."
"Jack needs someone to rub oil on my back and bring me a pi’na cola’da," the colonel suggested cocking an eyebrow at Carter. "Wanna volunteer, Major?"
"Sorry Colonel," she laughed handing him a canteen, "fresh out of coconuts, would you settle for some water and a couple of aspirin."
"Oh yeah," he muttered as he propped himself up on one elbow and greedily attacked the fresh water, "but I’ll take a raincheck on that oil."
"Yes, Sir," the Sam grinned.
Glancing at Warren, the colonel ordered, "Report, Major."
"Yes, Sir. SG-2 has taken control of the mine area, Colonel. All guards have been removed, there were no survivors."
"Good," Jack mumbled under his breath as he unconsciously fingered the gash in the back of his head. "Continue, Warren, but start at the beginning."
Nodding, Warren briefly and succinctly described how the SG team had hurried back to the gate after their encounter with the Jaffa and had found the transportation rings which took them to the cargo ship. Selmak, following the description Dr. Jackson had discovered, had followed the general directions of the other flights as described by the villagers. It had been a simple matter to spot the mining operation from the air and land the ship, taking the Jaffa by surprise.
"When P-90s start firing 900 rounds a minute it doesn’t take long to clean out a nest of Jaffa, Colonel," Warren said grimly. "Major Carter informed us of your location, Sir, having overheard the guards joking about it. Dr. Jackson came to find you immediately while we finished cleaning up the mine area."
"What about the Goa’uld," O’Neill asked, "any signs of him?"
"Once the guards were out of the way, the villagers took care of his high and mighty snakiness, themselves. Seems like even a self proclaimed god isn’t a match for a couple hundred infuriated ex-slaves. You might say old Roa’tah’s new hobby is feeding fish."
O’Neill glanced uneasily at the waves licking the shore. "Fish food, huh," he shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance, "Flakes or pellets?"
He swallowed hard when Warren’s eyes hardened and he answered, "Tiny pieces." Seeing the quesiness written on the colonel’s face, despite his effort to hide it, Warren said, "Colonel, whenever you’ve ready to move out, my men have secured the area and have already loaded Teal’c in the cargo bay for transport back to the stargate. Major Carter has assured us he will recover given time. We’re just awaiting your orders, Sir."
Nodding, Jack allowed Daniel to help him to his feet. "Carry on, Major. Daniel can you help organize the transportation of the villagers back home?"
"Sure Jack, Daniel smiled. "It’ll take a while to transport that many villagers, but it will be my pleasure."
"Good, but just remember I get to break the news to Selmak that he has just opened the Tok’ra Taxi Service," O’Neill smiled.
"Jack," Daniel interrupted quietly, " I’m sorry you didn’t get to go to your hockey game."
"Oh don’t worry about it, Danny," Jack said easily, slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulders. "Maybe in my next life I’ll come back as a hockey star." Pausing a moment he snorted, "Yeah right, with my luck I’ll probably come back as a puck! Let’s go home kids."
© July, 2002 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.