Flyboys, Spacemonkeys and Radar Telemetry – The O'Neill Roundup
Spacegypsy1
Chapter Two: Wonderland
"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary-wise; what it is it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?" Alice from Alice in Wonderland-Lewis Carroll
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Daniel awoke with a faint moan. He reached for his glasses creating a cascade of sharp pains through his right arm. His hand fell across his face, landing without interference over his eyes. His glasses were missing. Not that it mattered much since it was pitch black.
Gah! What planet was this? Which mission? He patted around his chest for the flashlight in his vest pocket. That's odd, not there. It took him a second or two, but he remembered the dig and the shifting sand.
Reaching carefully with his left hand, he located the holster that held some of his dig tools - the small pick, which was missing, a brush, and the Mini Maglite. Transferring the sturdy little flashlight to his right hand, he winced at the sharp pain and tucked the injured arm tight against his chest to turn the light on with his left hand. The beam shot upwards like a beacon through the darkness. He groaned and managed to scan the room before he passed out once again.
It was a brief interlude as the flashlight clanked on the floor and startled him awake again. He tested his body for possible breaks. With the exception of the blood-dripping wound on his right arm, nothing seemed to be amiss - if you discounted the other aches and pains in his muscles. Slowly rolling to his left side he inched himself into a sitting position.
He needed to reach the flashlight and find a way out before the batteries died. Waiting for the dizziness to pass, he sat still, his eyes squinting at the blur lit by the beam pointing across the room. Obviously, he needed to find his glasses first. The wall across from him appeared to hold a pictogram of a Horus Guard and a large Eye of Ra. He laughed as he blinked the fuzz away and took another look. The laughter died. Damn! Where the hell are my glasses?
Once standing with flashlight in hand, Daniel searched the top for any signs of an opening. He yelled until his voice was hoarse, then opted to find his glasses. With his first step he found them, right under his boot heel. Picking them up, he inspected them under the light and found that both lenses were broken. With a defeated sigh, he tossed them over his shoulder.
Dizzy and disoriented, he shuffled over to the wall to get a closer look. Once there, his less-than-perfect gaze flicked from the wall to his still bleeding arm. He had no emergency pack, no water, no food, no med supplies. He would have to wait to be rescued. Until then he'd study the cavern as best he could. Because for one thing, it was a Horus Guard, and for another, from what he could see, there was no way out.
Stumbling backwards, he fell against some structure in the middle of the room. Sliding to the floor, he slowly drifting into unconsciousness, totally unaware of the hours that passed.
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Moriah raced towards the dig site, pushing the Jeep to its max speed. She plowed through the sand, coming to a sliding, brake-screeching halt mere feet from the wide eyed group. Her exit from the vehicle consisted of a leap and she literally hit the sand running. "Help!!"
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The blood from his wound trickled across the top of his hand, branching like little streams down his fingers and dripping in slow motion to the floor. Sitting cross-legged in the dim light, Daniel watched in fascination. Someone, sounding remarkably like Teal'c, kept telling him to stop. Stop what? Stop watching? Oh, wait, you mean stop the bleeding. Right. And how do I do that?
Giggling idiotically in his delirium Daniel dropped his head to his chest. The flashlight, now low from battery use, lay on the floor with its muted beam cast on the full size Horus Guard figure. "Hey," he mumbled to the hazy figure, fighting to keep his drooping eyelids open. "What to do? What to do?"
The figure, fully hooded and complete with staff weapon, stepped out of the wall, squatting down in front of Daniel. "DanielJackson," Teal'c's voice spoke from the Horus Guard helmet, "You must do something to stop the bleeding and find your way out of here. Though they search for you, it is near impossible to pinpoint your location."
"You're not Teal'c. Wrong shinny suit." I'm so hot. Tired. And I'm hungry. I didn't eat breakfast. Daniel gave a half-hearted laugh as his sight waved from dark to light and he watched the pooling blood on top of his hand. "Right. Right. Right. Stop. Stop bleeding."
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Hours after being abandoned, Sam was eating dinner…alone. The room was abuzz with conversation and the diners began to rush out. Brows knitted, Sam held her empty wine glass up as the waitress threaded through the crowd in her direction. A feeling of unease settled over her.
"Hey, what's up?" Placing the wine glass on the table Sam questioned her server.
"Storm. Possibly a typhoon; it is headed this way." Looking worried the woman rushed off leaving the bottle of wine on the table.
Typhoon!? She'd looked at the weather just three days ago; there was nothing out there.
Ah, boy. That's just wonderful. Sam filled her wine glass and watched through the open archway as travelers rushed the front desk. She'd wait.
Realizing the restaurant was trying to close, she ambled toward the counter, requested to buy two bottles of wine, and paid her bill.
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D.C. was cold, overcast and gloomy. Twiddling a pencil in between his fingers, General O'Neill listened to Chief Harriman list the names and explanations for his call.
"Look, Walter, Carter's okay, she's not missing. And no, you can't have the code to reactivate her chip. You say you can't contact Daniel and Vala. They're on vacation. Both unreachable. Take a wild guess what those two are up to! T's stuck on the Alpha Base and the Daedalus is on its way, no problem. Mitchell's hunkered down in some fancy chalet in a blizzard with a doctor…a no-brainer. I've gotta go, I've got a plane to catch, stop worrying. They're fine. Tell Hank to call me when he gets back."
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Phones were jammed and her satellite phone beeped at her with disregard. Her chip had been deactivated…that could be remedied with the password Jack had. Not to worry. Sam shouldered her way through the lobby headed back towards her bungalow, ignoring the mob who pushed and shoved to be on the first evacuation bus.
Within a few hours the storm would be a typhoon. Ibo, the lagoon resort manager, along with Sam and a few others left behind when the evacuation route had been washed out, were in the resort jeep headed for higher ground. With nearly eighty mile an hour winds, the rush through dense jungle was precarious.
Ibo remained calm as he drove towards an old bunker he'd weathered several storms in. He kept the others occupied with stories from his childhood in Nigeria, and Sam listened with interest. The bartender, Dewi, a diminutive woman of undetermined age, looked nervous. Dawn and David Brukawsky, an older couple from Minnesota who'd been overwhelmed in the melee and left behind accidentally, quietly held hands. Along the road they picked up two natives who'd been walking in search of shelter, Bagus and Dayu.
They arrived safely at the bunker, a leftover from World War II, to find it stocked with little in the way of emergency gear. In the driving rain and howling winds, they all unloaded the van Ibo and Dewi had loaded with food, water and medical supplies. There was no way out now. They were destined to ride the storm to its conclusion.
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Cam finished his recon of the church, coming back to stand at the altar's edge. Okay, so he was alone. He was warm. Well, sort of. That was good. And once Doc reported him missing they'd track him by his chip, and the Daedalus would whisk him right outta here.
The creaking of wood above his head had his eyes rolling upwards to inspect the centuries-old ceiling. Arms tight across his chest he listened. More creaking and cracking echoed through the empty building. Not good. He'd check everything out again, and find someplace that offered a little protection…just in case.
Greeting each saint by their name, he went from statue to statue. "Yo, Mary, you better hightail it out of here now; if it takes on much more snow that old roof might come tumblin' down."
"Ah, St. Christopher, my Gran'maw wasn't Catholic, but she had a fondness for their saints. You, sir, she carried in her car…I don't remember why."
"Who are you?" He read the engraved information at the feet of St. Hilda. "I'll be damned! No, not really, hold up on that."
And on he went around the church checking out the structure. Finally he came back to the aisle where he'd left his duffle bag. Looking around, he opted for the pews, sitting down on the floor between the back of the fifth and the seat of the sixth. He'd recently read the article on the Triangle of Life, by Doug Coop.
"Don't get under somethin' heavy, get beside it." Opening his bag he pulled out the bottle of champagne surprised to find it still chilled. He popped the cork. "Oops, sorry," he told the church in general.
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Carolyn Lam looked out the window of the chalet high in the Rockies. Once again, she tried her cell phone, but the signal was too weak. He was out there somewhere, hopefully still at the SGC. The fire behind her crackled and snapped, and she turned, her gaze passing over the romantic setting on the table.
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Halfway through the bottle of champagne, the ceiling rumbled. Damn! Come on guys, now would be a good time, ya know, at the last minute you get me out of here! Ah, hell, it's probably just the wind. "Damn, I gotta stop cussin' in church."
Maybe he should just go outside. Naw, too crazy. Maybe he'd best go and speak firsthand to the Man. Leaving the sanctuary of the pews, Cam approached the altar, whistling the hymn his Gran'maw always sang.
The ceiling began to groan. "You know, I thought you had me with the Sodan. And then for sure with that Zombie Volnek. I figured I was definitely fixin' to meet you with Replicator Marrick. I never begged for mercy through any of that. So what I'm needin' here is a just a little help. Oh, wait, my bad," Cam realized he still had the champagne bottle in his hand. He held up a finger towards the altar, indicating he'd be right back, turned away quickly, swaying from the sudden action, then looked back. "Hold on a minute here."
Sprinting back to the pew, Cam leaned in to place the bottle on the floor next to his bag. The sound of snapping wood and a fierce rumble sent him diving to the floor. Then the ceiling and snow laden roof piled around the inert figure.
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Running down the corridor, Teal'c took off towards the entrance, heading for the hangers, while Davis took the steps up to the control room two at a time. Firepower above could be heard inside the compound of the Alpha Base as people ran in every direction, shouting orders.
Teal'c zigzagged across the tarmac dodging the alien firepower, debris flying around him as he made for one of the last Alkesh. There wasn't enough time to assess the enemy, but his keen senses told him the mish mash of attacking ships were not from any one race. More than likely they were dealing with the new faction of rogue Jaffa and the Lucian Alliance who'd reportedly teamed up.
He reached the ship and shot into the sky in record time. Along with the ten or so F-302's and the five or six Alkesh, he waged battle against the multitude of enemy aircraft. The large ground cannons came to life below, helping to even the score. They were now fifteen ships against forty.
The Daedalus was scheduled to arrive, and Teal'c knew Major Davis would be on subspace communications urging the ship – with its complement of F-302's - into hyperdrive. It wouldn't be long before the battle would weigh in their favor.
Teal'c could hear the radio chatter. Indeed, the Daedalus was minutes away. He concentrated on two Death Gliders making for a ground run, blasting one apart and sending the other spiraling towards the mountains in the distance.
Something hit his ship, sending it spinning uncontrollably out into space. He fought to regain control, initiating the mayday sequence and the tracking beacon.
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She sensed him, even though his presence was not on the planet. Something was wrong. The Jaffa in her knew it. Making it through the sunrise ceremony to honor her leadership as well as her reinstatement as High Priestess had been difficult with her mind on Teal'c.
Alone in her tent, Ishta lit the candles she had saved for their visit last night. A visit she had looked forward to for many months. Their relationship had suffered many long absences. But this one made her ill-at-ease. He would not have chosen to miss his own marriage ceremony, scheduled less than an hour ago.
The flap to the tent opened, letting in the light of day. She need not ask who stood there. "Come in, Master Bra'tac."
"Something is wrong." He announced taking a seat across from the Hak'tyl leader.
"Yes."
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He'd been in this situation before. Adrift in space. Now he waited, aimlessly floating and alone, having missed his own nuptials. O'Neill would find some humor in that. He did not.
There had been a moment when he'd gotten the ship under control; however, that had quickly turned into disaster as the panel short circuited, and the ship soared into a short but powerful hyperjump.
Little remained working to help ascertain his current position. Or to reinitiate the life support. Or subspace transmissions. Engines. And most certainly, nothing to vent the toxic smoke that filled the craft.
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Eyes closed she reviewed her weapons. A knife in her boot. A lock pick in her sleeve. A small but deadly little laser gun (she'd once stolen from an acquaintance) in her other boot. The thin razor inserted in a slim tube where one of her bra underwires should be. The sharp but tiny pick she'd stol…ah, borrowed from Daniel's tools. Yes. That was it, as paltry as it was.
OH! And the saw-like tool that made up part of her belt buckle. Now that might come in handy.
The problem, as she saw it, was she had not only herself to worry about. There were three of them in this god-awful vehicle and four in the other. That would definitely be an issue. To wait until they were all together or spring a surprise now?
As the caravan slowed, Vala opened her eyes. Nothing but desert for miles and miles. Well, this wasn't good. They would be murdered here and left and no one would ever find them. Ha! She had plans for her future. And for Daniel's. "Get ready." She whispered to the others. Their terrified faces only remained so.
While their captors got out of the cars to meet, Vala, hands tied behind her, squirmed until she got her six between them, then her thighs and finally her feet bringing her rope tied wrists in front of her and close to the buckle. Fingers maneuvered the secret clasp of the belt and released the saw. She ran the rope back and forth quickly releasing her hands.
"Listen." She told the others, all the while her hands were digging out items from various places on her body. "Stop being mummies or we'll all be dead in a matter of minutes. Gary, take the knife." Cutting him loose, she slapped the knife into his palm. "You did as I told you, right? You can get us back?" He nodded staring at the knife in disbelief.
"Sara." Making short work of the ropes on the young woman's wrists, Vala pulled the thin razor out of the tube recently retrieved from her bosom. "When they get us out of the car, act all weepy and cuddle up to Dudley and cut him loose – and for goddess' sakes tell him to act like he's still tied. Put the razor in his hands and tell him to free the others."
Sara nodded, eyes bright with wonder.
"Gary, try to get the knife to Carrie. She was a marine once. Sara, take the pick and give it to Lacey, she's such a bitch she'll get a kick out of stabbing someone. And keep an eye on Mary, she'd faint from fright…actually, tell her to! Now, here they come to get us out. Gary, take this. Point, pull this back and aim for the middle of the forehead. I'm going for a big gun. If…when I get it, hit the dirt…sand."
When it was all over, the seven of them stood around, each with a gun pointed at the living, albeit much worse for wear, thieves.
Checking the area, Vala picked up any weapons left lying around. "Let's tie them up, get in our car, and as you say, 'haul ass out of here'."
Vala and Gary disassembled various parts of the motors on the other cars, tied the camels to it, then, tossing the parts into the back of their Land Rover along with what supplies they could fit, they took out in the direction Gary indicated.
There was a good fifteen minutes of silence before Gary let out a nervous laugh, and the others sighed in relief.
Vala turned to look out the window, smiling. Now, next she was ready to tackle Daniel, and she wasn't going back to the SGC until she had his heart. But first, something else troubled her. "Gary?"
"Hmm?"
"We're lost aren't we?"
"Yep."
