Cowboys and Indians, Cowgirls and Aliens
Spacegypsy1
Sam and Jacob Carter manage to get Jack, Teal'c and Mitchell to help them find their missing friend, Daniel Jackson. Vala drops in on Daniel's adventure. A few Native Americans interfere - a few help. D/V, a hint of S/J. AU.
A/N: First, I'd like to apologize for the gross misuse of Stargate SG1's characters –which, as you know, are not mine - and for taking them from the comfort of their known universe/time. Second, I have no idea how to categorize this-I guess its AU. And Alternate Time Line.
CHAPTER ONE
xxxxxx
Sitting near the campfire in the middle of nowhere, Professor Daniel Jackson, historian and linguist and student of the budding science of Egyptology, cut his eyes warily around the oppressive darkness surrounding his camp site. They had warned him, all those friends back east, when he had announced his intention to leave his newly acquired teaching position to study the ancient history of the indigenous peoples of America. He fished the round spectacles out of the pocket of his verdigris suit jacket and put them on. It made little difference, only clarifying that his campfire lacked substantial fuel. He was lucky to have got the damned thing going in the first place.
It had been years since he'd seen such a brilliant display of stars. Daniel looked up into the vast and colorful array in the infinite sky. A coyote howled somewhere off in the distance and he shuddered. He'd been an idiot! Utterly lost in the seemingly never-ending spaces of Texas, where he'd been told countless outlaws and bands of renegade Native Americans wandered looking for fools like him.
Leaning close to the small, smoldering fire, he tried to see the pages in his leather-bound journal. Unable to find his leaded pencil, he dug out the alternative. Dipping his pen into the inkpot, Daniel scrawled quickly, eyes narrowed in an effort to keep his writing at least on an even keel.
June 10, 1879, somewhere near the Guadalupe Mountains - Texas
He pulled the gold watch from his pocket, flipped it open and snapped it shut, returning it to the small slit in his vest.
11:58 P. M.
Today I finished the remainder of my rations, with the exception of a handful of ground coffee. I have not seen a soul since three weeks ago when I passed some poor deranged gold digger. If the coyotes don't eat me, or some renegade Apache war party doesn't kill me, I will probably die from stupidity.
My hope is that this journal is found. I have exciting news! Nearly five days ago, I discovered a small cave with remarkable wall drawings, I am however, still unable to decipher part of the odd markings, so similar to the ones I saw in Egypt while studying with Monsieur Mariette . I suspect they are some old, forgotten written language-though I have lost that argument to Mariette many times. I have yet to identify the extraordinary and beautiful gold pieces of adornment that I found untouched upon the cave floor. I have made a drawing, just in case they are stolen from my dead and rotting flesh when and if it is ever found.
The finger pieces and wrist supports, all gold, fit my hand. What is even stranger is the small center jewel at the palm. I wonder if it is a ruby. The wall drawings (also reproduced in this journal) show the jeweled 'bracelet' attached to the hand of some figure, with the center shooting a beam out. This is certainly a remarkable find. There are two figures that appear to be guards of some sort, while the elaborately dressed person with the bracelet - I could not clearly make out if it is male or female - looked Egyptian! The other article, a round, large red jewel, appears to fit over the hand, taking up the entire palm. The cave drawings show nothing to explain its purpose. There was also a depiction – exactly like the one in Egypt – of the large standing ring. What a wonderful mystery, and I am quite despondent now that I realize I will never be able to study the cave more. You see, I wandered looking for the water I had spotted from the cave halfway up the mountain and although I can clearly see El Capitan behind me, I am not able to make my way back. I sit fevered and dizzy from a snake bite.
xxxxxx
Jack O'Neill's words, while whispered in the noisy saloon, were astonished just the same. "Eight hundred dollars? To find some tenderfoot? Eight HUNDRED?"
"Yes, Colonel O'Neill…"
Jack interrupted the blond sitting across the table from him. "Call me Jack. I retired from the military." She nodded, her large feathered hat bobbing atop her head. The woman, one DOCTOR Samantha Carter, wore the trappings of some Eastern lady, totally out of place in his environment.
Resisting the urge to brush some of the dust from his buckskin jacket, Jack eyed her speculatively. "Okay, ma'am, you've got my attention. What's the catch?"
The woman tucked loose tendrils of hair off her neck, and then ran a slender finger around the high stiff collar of her dress. Obviously, the heat was getting to her, judging by the flush of her cheeks.
"There is no 'catch', sir. I only need guidance and protection to search for my friend."
"Protection? Lady, you can't seriously consider traipsing across Texas looking for your boyfriend?"
"Daniel Jackson is not my boyfriend. He is a friend and colleague. Daniel is an Egyptologist- a historian if you will, and a linguist; his last correspondence indicated he would head for the Guadalupe Mountains in this region. That was over two months ago."
"Historian? That what you are, ma'am?"
"I am a physician and a scientist."
"Scientist?" He said the word distastefully.
"Yes. Will you take the job?"
"Eight hundred, ya say?"
"Yes."
"Cash?"
"Yes. A fourth before we leave. The balance upon our return."
"Okay, here's the deal. Half before I leave and the rest when I bring him…or more likely, his body back."
Sam sat forward, blue eyes trained on the man across from her. "No, Mr. O'Neill. I go with you or we have no deal. I will find someone else."
"It's Jack, not mister." Jack sat back and eyed the rough-looking cowboy who leaned against the bar watching them.
Cam shrugged his shoulders with a grin and twirled a finger around his temple, mouthing 'crazy'. Before Jack looked away he noted Cam's fingers and thumb rubbing together, indicating their need for cash.
"Okay, it's your life. Deal."
xxxxxx
Daniel lay on his back, grinning feverishly at the multitude of stars. His brain was fuzzy; surely that's what made the fire streaking across the sky seem so real. When he heard the thunderous crash nearby and felt the earth shake beneath him, he closed his eyes, waiting for the end to come – hopefully, swiftly.
He could hear his own thready heartbeat in the ominous quiet that followed. He drifted off, saddened that he'd not thought to write a goodbye note to his dearest friend.
Lying on the cold earth, dreaming of his friend, he imagined footsteps approaching. "Sam?" He hardly recognized his own weak, hoarse utterance.
The voice that answered from the darkness held a tinge of something he couldn't quite place. "No, it's Vala. Vala Mal Doran."
Sultry, he thought before passing out.
xxxxxx
The mid-morning heat was every bit as daunting as yesterday afternoon's. Grinning as she gathered her supplies, Sam wondered what possessed her to keep her experience from Jack O'Neill. After all, she'd grown up wandering the world with her widowed father. After years away of study, she'd gone to Africa to join him again, tending the sick, and 'traipsing' across the savannahs and jungles. After that, South America and Egypt, where she'd met Daniel.
"Daniel." She whispered, worried she would never find her friend again. Shaking off her misgivings, Sam concentrated on her packing and the fact that, according to her information, she'd found the right man…men…for the job. Her father had made sure of that. A former Texas Ranger, Jack O'Neill had made a reputation for himself as being honest and trustworthy. And along with his sidekick, the bounty hunter Cameron Mitchell, they were purported to be the best trackers in the Southwest.
The two men had left days ago to scout out another member of their legendary team - a renegade Apache who went by the absurd name of Teal'c.
Sam packed her medical bag into her valise, followed by a pair of men's pants, recently acquired from one Levi Straus; then a wool poncho, several shirts and undergarments and other feminine supplies.
She watched out the window of her hotel room waiting for her employees to arrive. They were due yesterday, but she didn't worry. She had yet to pay them. Eight hundred dollars was a lot of money, and she knew how much they needed it. Her father, Dr. Jacob Carter, had enough influence to have obtained all the information they needed on this group of men. Not only were they extraordinary in their chosen field since before the war between the States, but more importantly, they had banded together to buy a large ranch. And because of recent range wars between neighboring ranchers, they were struggling for the last payment.
Captain Mitchell had followed his commanding officer home after the war and spent every penny he had, tossing in his lot with the Colonel to buy a chunk of the ranch.
He reminded her of Daniel, except he appeared the rough-looking gunslinger type compared to Daniel's new meek professor look. But she knew her friend well, and while he might appear docile, she'd seen him in his rugged days in Egypt. Tenderfoot! Not by a long shot!
It was nearly an hour past noon when the three rode into town. The Apache, Teal'c, sat bareback astride a Pinto that must have been 16 hands high. He wore a deerskin shirt, a loin cloth, deerskin leggings and moccasins, with a leather band tied around his forehead. His hair was nearly shoulder length. But the most surprising thing about him, Sam realized, was that he looked to be African, not Native American.
As they tied their horses to the railing in front of the hotel, Sam came out to greet them. Although she could not hear his words, she noted Teal'c's raised brow as he turned to Jack O'Neill.
"O'Neill, did you not tell me the woman was a 'city slicker'?"
Jack, obviously surprised, stared at the blond. She'd changed. Literally and figuratively. Her golden hair lay braided down her back, coming nearly to her waist. She wore sensible walking boots, clearly well worn, a man's cambric shirt, or more correctly a boy's by the fit of it, tucked into the waistband of her heavy canvas skirt. And then there was that pistol she had strapped to her waist.
Cam rushed forward, "Dang, that's a Colt!" He stared at the gun with envy. "A '55 five shot. .31 caliber!" He took off his black hat and slapped his black clad leg with it. "Hot damn! A classic. You know how to use that thing?"
"I do. I've used it many times, the last being an Asp, near Cairo."
Incredulous, Jack could not stop the words that spewed from his mouth. "You shot somebody in the ass!?"
Cam howled with laughter, equally misinterpreting her statement. "Naw, Jack! She shot some ass! As in a…."
"Snake." Sam filled in, holding back the laughter that threatened.
"Snake?" The three men chorused, as Jack shivered, Cam scratched his head and Teal'c raised an interested brow.
"Well, little missy, I'm thinkin' you'll do just fine!' Cam drawled lazily.
xxxxxx
Daniel woke, surprised not to find himself dead. He could smell coffee and something roasting on a fire. A warm fire in the early morning chill. Panicked, his hand went to his head to verify he still had his hair. Slowly, he turned his head in the direction of the fire to see a slim figure standing there. Trying to separate dream from reality, he tested the memory, "Vala," realizing when she turned that he must have said it out loud.
"Awake are you, darling? Good. I wasn't sure I still had it in me to operate that damned healing device." She squatted down beside him. "Nasty little wound I found on your leg, but it's much better. We'll just give it another shot to be sure."
His parched lips fell open and he stared at the strange vision before him. "What?"
Dressed in some bizarre leather vest with an indecently low bodice and leather britches snug in every place, the woman grinned at him. Ignoring his remark, Vala pulled his ripped pants leg aside. Attached to her hand was one of the artifacts he'd found in the cave, and she held it over the snake bite.
Shocked, Daniel raised his shoulders off the ground so he could watch. The object glowed and hummed and the woman, Vala, appeared to be concentrating. He could feel the warm healing energy on his leg, and, with a huff of amazement, he fell back to the ground.
"So, gorgeous, who are you?"
He blinked and stammered a moment before he finally told her. "Daniel Jackson."
"Well, Daniel, where are we?"
"I have no idea." He pushed up on one elbow staring in wonder at his healed leg.
"You don't know the name of your own planet? Or are you visiting from somewhere else yourself?"
"Planet? Of course I know my planet. It's planet Earth, but I don't really know where we are, except in Texas…wait, what do you mean am I visiting from somewhere else…myself…as if you…who are you?"
"I told you, darling. Vala Mal Doran."
"Where did you come from?"
"Where did you come from?"
"I came from Chicago recently. I grew up in Egypt. Studied in Germany. But I'd been back in Egypt…nevermind." Daniel pushed himself up to a sitting position looking longingly at the coffee pot and whatever was roasting over the blazing fire.
"Hungry?" Vala wandered over to the sizzling meat. "I found your strange little gadgets in your pack. The small pot and the aroma of the grain were intriguing. I figured it out. Lucky for you there was just enough water left in the clever container I found by your side. Though your weapon didn't seem to work. I took it apart and put it back together - but it seems to be missing some sort of thingies to go in the little chamber. Do you have any of those?"
"Noooo. They're all gone."
"Hmm. Such a pity. I had rather hoped to find something more substantial to eat than one of those creepy animals I managed to procure with my knife." Vala poured the coffee into a tin cup and handed it to Daniel. "You don't have a Marzonian blaster or Zat'Nik'Tel do you? I hate the thought of trying to use that Goa'uld hand device to kill some animal; I'd probably blow it up."
Either she was blathering incoherently or he'd suffered some lingering brain damage during his ordeal. Or both. It took him a full minute to even manage a comment. "You're not from Texas are you? You accent sounds European."
"Earth. European. Cargoes and Germies, Egypt. Texas." Vala waved her hand towards the sky. "I have no idea what you are talking about. Here." She handed him a small portion of the food. "Eat something. We'll talk more when you've regained your senses."
"Chicago." He corrected, gulping down the meat in one bite, mumbling Germany around the morsel.