Summary: What if Cha'ka had missed the Gou'ald as it flew toward Daniel? An alternate thought on "The First Ones."
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "The First Ones"
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate SG-1. It belongs to MGM, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Film Corporation. Nor do I own the original premise of this story. That belongs to Peter DeLuise. I don't own anything except the warped thoughts that bent in this direction, and my membership in DBA. Wish it were otherwise.
Missing
"Oh, shit!" That particular sentiment rarely occurred to him. It was a thought more appropriate to Jack. But it had occurred several times in the last couple of hours, ever since he had wakened and found himself a captive of this aboriginal Unas. And its most recent occurrence had been when the Unas refused to untie his hands before allowing him to drink. But the . . . creature . . . had laid down its end of the thong that bound Daniel's wrists, allowing him access to the water. The Unas was leery, almost afraid of the water. It had let go of the thong and turned away, scanning the area for something. Daniel had seized that chance, running as fast as he could under the circumstances. A vague remembered thought, something about water confusing dogs, sent him fleeing into the water itself. Maybe it would work with Unas. He was nearly out of the water before he saw the Unas again. It must have sprinted around the pond, and was now waiting for him. Daniel backed away until the water lapped about his waist, watching. It-or rather, he-seemed torn by indecision, moving toward the water's edge, then retreating. Okay, the water's safe, a haven, he thought, Unas don't like water. Why? They stared at each other, momentarily at an impasse. Then he heard a splash, and that familiar squeaking. He turned, and saw the ripple in the water, zigzagging in his direction. Disbelief froze him for an instance, then he scrambled toward the shore. Given the choice, he'd take his chances with the Unas. The Gou'ald broke from the water's surface, wings spread. With detached interest, Daniel noted that it seemed to glide on the air, much like a flying squirrel. Full-grown, about the size of "Julius," it sailed toward them, toward him. His peripheral vision saw the Unas moving, grabbing for the symbiote. It missed. The Gou'ald slammed into Daniel's chest, causing him to stumble back. It curled around his shoulder, its tail casting for a steady hold. His bound hands scrabbled uselessly at the symbiote, seeking to pull it off him. He yelled, but his yell was lost in the roar from the Unas. His former captor hesitated, then grabbed again at the symbiote, but its hesitation had given the Gou'ald its chance. Having found an unprotected spot, it reared up, then plunged. The sensation was indescribable. Daniel fell. The thong binding his wrists parted easily, and he steadied himself on hands and knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The Unas roared again, and-after a panicked glance-turned and fled. An eternity passed, or so it felt. The struggle in his mind was beyond anything he could have possibly imagined. Part of him-that essence that was Daniel-recoiled, overwhelmed by the assault. It would be so much easier to just give in, to let the Gou'ald take over. His consciousness flickered. Then his eyes flashed, as that final spark was quashed as easily as one would stamp out a cigarette. Shakily, he rose, stripping the remaining rope from his wrist. Then he turned, and headed back toward the camp.
FINI