Prophet of Troy
Author: Alasse
Category: action/adventure, drama
Pairings: none
Spoilers/Season: Eight, pre-Threads
Rating:K+, PG13,
Summary: Cassie teams up with the SGC to rescue a friend.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1, its characters and all related entities are property of Stargate SG-1 Productions (II) Inc., MGM Worldwide Television Productions Inc., Double Secret Productions, Gekko Film Corp and Showtime Networks Inc / The SciFi Channel. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: Hugs to all my yahell, live journal, fic frenzy and now twitter friends for pokings, readings, and general support.
Dedicated to Teryl Rothery, who wants to swap the lab coat for leather…
Part 1
"Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
Alice in Wonderland
She was running. Running down a long dark corridor.
Dark, but not pitch black - a dim light reflected off the gold brick walls. They were inscribed with all sorts of intricate designs and pattern, but there was no time to stop and examine them.
She could not remember what she was running from, or where she was running to, or even how long she'd been running for that matter. But the sense of urgency was overwhelming. Run. Run.
Run!
The air was cold. Not a frosty, see your breath, go play in the snow sort of cold; but a bone chilling, icy fingers up and down your spine, scary cold.
She felt as if all her hair was standing straight up on end - quite a feat as her hair was thick and reached to her waist.
Run!
And she ran.
Her panting breath and pounding heart beat in her ears in time to the slapping of her sneakers on the gold floor.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Thump thump thump.
Thump thump thump.
Surely whoever she was running from could hear her from miles away.
She rounded a corner and found herself in another long corridor exactly the same as the first one. She was a mouse running in a maze, round square after square, after square, trying to find her way to the center.
Run!
As she rounded the next corner her thumps sounded louder, echoing far ahead. She stopped for a moment, puzzled. The thumps continued, increasing in volume, heading toward her.
Just in time she leaped back into an alcove. She pressed her back flat against the wall and held her breath, trying to blend into the patterned bricks.
A troop of Jaffa marched past. The butts of their staff weapons beat the floor in syncopated rhythm with the stamping of their feet.
They marched in formation, eyes straight ahead. Not looking for her then. She held still and watched.
The marks on their foreheads were familiar, but she couldn't quite place them. Running her fingertips over the part of the wall next to her she found the same symbol repeated several times. It meant something, something important, but she couldn't remember what.
No time now to think. The Jaffa might not be looking for her, but if they did find her…
As the last one marched off around the corner from which she'd come she reached down and slipped off her sneakers. With a pang of regret she tucked them into the darkest corner. The Skechers were her favorite. Not worth her life however.
She ran more quietly down the halls now, sliding occasionally in her sock-clad feet. Corridor after corridor flew by. The air grew chiller and chiller, the light dimmer and dimmer. She was tired, but the sense of urgency pushed her on.
The halls were shorter now; she must be nearing the end.
Light blazed in front of her as she rounded the final corner. Torches were imbedded into each side of the wall; fires blazing in two orderly lines. At the end of the lines, a door - solid gold and covered with the same symbol the Jaffa wore, over and over and over.
She stopped in front of the door and placed her palms flat against it, unsure what to do next.
With a grinding noise the door parted in the center and slid open. A rush of icy air blew through the opening and extinguished the torches in a puff of smoke.
Slowly, carefully, she crept into the room. A mouse, small, insignificant, looking for the way out at the end of the maze. She whispered that thought to herself as she slipped through the door.
The room was dome shaped, and on the far side were windows against which stars flew by.
A figure sat in the center chair, back to her. Only short dark hair and leather straps across the bare pale flesh of its shoulder were visible.
"Welcome," said a familiar, but sinister voice. "I've been expecting you."
The chair swiveled around.
She screamed.
Cassandra Fraiser sat up straight in her bed, hugging her knees and shivering. The clock on her bedside table blinked 5:00 in mocking red letters.
There was no use trying to sleep again after The Dream. Sliding out of bed she crossed to the window and put her face in front of the screen fan to dry the now warm sweat from her head and neck.
The first faint signs of dawn were ahead on the horizon. A suggestive lightening of the black sky to a bluish gray spread over the trees at the far end of the yard. She'd have to get up in another hour or so anyway, might as well be now.
She padded barefoot dawn the hall to the kitchen. Colonel, her dog, lay stretched out on the floor near the door, spreading as much of his body onto the linoleum as possible to keep himself cool. His tail thumped against the floor in greeting and he rose up on his haunches looking hopefully at the door.
"In a little while," Cassie told him. She opened the cabinet above the sink, took out a glass, walked to the fridge and filled it with orange juice. Almost immediately a thick layer of condensation formed around the glass, soaking her hand.
Carrying the glass to the butcher-block breakfast bar, she set it down and wiped her hand on her shorts. She perched on the stool and curled her toes around the rungs.
Virginia was hot. Way too hot. Sure, Colorado Springs had been hot too in the summer, but it had never felt so… sticky.
She pushed her hair out of her face, resolving for the umpteenth time to chop it all off at the first possible moment. Yeah, right. She took a long sip of juice and made a face as unwanted pulp slid down her throat.
"Cassie?" A small voice sounded from the doorway and a second later the room was filled with the harsh light of the fluorescent ceiling bulb. "Why are you sitting in the kitchen in the dark?"
"Well I'm not in the dark anymore, am I?" she answered sharply, shielding her eyes with her hand.
The light was switched off. "Sorry." The younger girl walked over to Cassie and looked at her apologetically, sweet with her long blonde hair and Hello Kitty pajamas.
Cassie sighed. "It's ok Tessa. I couldn't sleep. Why are you up?"
"I couldn't sleep either. And I was thirsty. Whatcha drinking?"
"Orange juice. But I warn you, it has pulp."
"I love pulp!" Tessa filled a glass, and stopped to pet Colonel on the way back. The dog obligingly rolled over so she could scratch his tummy, and she giggled.
Cassie watched, fidgeting on her stool. She'd thought she always wanted a little sister, but now she wasn't so sure. Tessa and Kayla were very good about sharing a room so she could have her own, and obviously admired her. She had every reason to like them. Maybe it was just that she was afraid to have sisters. After all, she couldn't seem to keep a mother around…
Colonel was thumping his tail against the cabinet now, and Tessa was giggling louder.
"Shhhh, you'll wake the others." Cassie hopped off her stool and carried her glass to the sink, pouring the rest of the juice down the drain and rinsing it.
"Grandpa will be up soon anyway," Tessa whispered back. She got up and walked over to the sink too. Colonel jumped up to follow her and gave them each a nudge and a soft whuff.
Cassie crouched down and scratched the dog behind the ears. "Let me put on some clothes," she told him, "then I'll take you out."
Colonel wagged his tail in reply.
"You're not going back to bed?" Tessa asked, wide-eyed.
"I have an early class, but you need to get back before your sister wakes up and finds you gone," Cassie spoke quickly, before the younger girl could ask to join them on the morning run.
Back in her room, she changed into jean shorts and a tank top and pulled on her Skechers sneakers to combat the wet grass. As she tied the second sneaker, she froze, remembering. She'd left them in the hallway, hadn't she? Before…
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Not now. She'd think later. Right now she needed to clear her head.
She grabbed her Walkman and popped in a CD at random. She clipped the Walkman to her shorts and pushed the tiny headphones into her ears. Returning to the kitchen she was gratified to see that Tessa had obeyed her.
Colonel was standing by the door, waiting not so patiently. She snapped his leash onto his collar, and opened the door.
Outside the sky had brightened considerably to a hazy light grey. Dew reflected the dull light from every blade of grass and limply hanging leaf. A mist obscured the road in the distance, and not so much as a tiny breeze stirred.
Cassie took a deep breath filling her lungs with warm moist air, and hit play on her Walkman. Jovial voices soon filled her head. "Another postcard with chimpanzeeeeeeeeeeeees." She smiled as she started to run. I've got to find a postcard with monkeys to send to Jack.
Down the road, across the street and into the park. Once inside she let Colonel off the leash and let him chose the path. A half hour later, exhausted and drenched with sweat, she had made her decision. Tonight she would talk to the general.