The sarcophagus works! It's alive again!

I just want to give a shout-out to all you authors out there who somehow manage to write stuff even with kids and family. You have mad organizational skills and dedication to the craft that I truly envy.

I promise I'm going to finish this in quick order. In fact (good news peoples) I have the whole thing finished (ish). I've never fully dropped the story, but my writing times were widely spaced and short. Two thirds of the writing sessions were entirely taken up by re-reading what had just happened and then re-writing bits and pieces of stuff, and then before I actually got around to writing new content, I would need to get on to other tasks.

So. Yeah. You writers with family - I am super impressed by you!


Jon looked down on the Aschen super-soldier at his feet. He pulled out his 'zat and shot the guy once, just in case. He'd seen the first couple of kicks to the door before he had crawled into the sub-floor to withdraw from the room. Anything that could kick down a metal door like that might be tough enough to take getting smacked around by the blast.

Heck, that blast had hit him pretty hard even though he'd been forty feet further away around a corner. He had planned to just check to make sure they had actually charged in before stepping back into the office.

He stepped over the body and rolled through the doorway, shotgun at the ready..

"Looks like a bomb went off in here," he muttered. He paused for a moment, almost hearing the groan from Jackson, and smiled to himself.

The long table was nothing but scrap now, and everyone in the room was torn to shreds. Chairs, quickly pushed in front of the doors were scattered around the room, mostly broken.

He'd taken the six Aschen rifles he had collected and ejected their power cores. Then he'd wrapped the cores in det cord and plugged in a radio-switch. Some string and an assault rifle had laid down the gun fire that had made it sound like he was still in the room, at least long enough to draw them all in.

Jon kept his shotgun to his shoulder, regardless of the motionless bodies smoldering on the floor. A careful examination through the other doorway showed that everyone had charged into the room.

Jon let out a breath and headed up the hallway.

He wasn't sure how many troops had come aboard in the assault, but he had to have hurt them pretty heavily. Hopefully heavily enough that they would be pulling into defensive postures, leaving some areas clear enough tt he could put his half-formed plans into action.

"That's right Jon," he spoke to himself as he jogged up the corridor, "My plans are half-formed, not half-assed."

The corridor intersections later and he was beginning to be hopeful that the Aschen had pulled back, until he turned the corner and almost ran into an Aschen guard with one hand to his ear.

Jon lunged forward, swinging the butt of his shotgun around in a vicious arc as the surprised Aschen pulled back.

Jon had to give credit to the guy - in spite of being surprised while listening on a com, he had reacted quickly. The butt of Jon's weapon collided with the soldier's rifle, but the man managed to keep his grip while pulling back to gain some room. Jon plowed forward into the man, grabbing the rifle with one hand while dropping his own weapon. The soldier grabbed ahold of his gun with both hands, trying to wrench it around to fire at Jon, but Jon kept it blocked out with his forearm.

Then he swung with his right hand, fist colliding with the man's ribs.

Jon grunted in pain. It felt like he had punched a ceramic vest insert. He would have sworn the guy didn't have any armor on but -

The soldier took advantage of Jon's pain and distraction to wrench his rifle free, stumbling back.

Jon dove forward toward the man as the gun fired with a whine and crackle. He could feel the hairs on his head spark as the beam just missed his head. But it did miss, and Jon tackled the man backwards, shoulder into the man's stomach and hands around the man's legs, piledriving the soldier to the floor.

This time his shoulder spasmed in pain as the soldier's clothing suddenly hardened as they hit the floor, feeling as if he had just tackled a stone to the ground. Jon groaned even as he forced his body to move, pulling up and knocking the rifle from the man's hand.

The soldier was feebly trying to move, addled by his head striking the floor even with his helmet's protection. Jon pulled back and fumbled with his Zat, his hand and shoulder protesting the usage, but the soldier's slow recovery gave him time, and a crackling buzz filled the air as Jon sent the soldier the rest of the way to unconsciousness.

Jon carefully flexed his right hand, wincing as it tightened.

"Great, I take out a dozen soldiers without a scratch and then break my hand punching a single guy. Lovely."

It was definitely cracked - usable for light work, but anything heavy was probably out of the question. His shoulder didn't seem to be dislocated, he checked with a quick roll, but it was going to hurt to use.

Shaking his head in annoyance, Jon quickly patted the soldier down, taking his weapons. Jon considered the helmet for a second, wondering if it would be worthwhile trying to use it to listen in to any comm traffic. Then a second thought hit his mind and he considered the man.

"Hey, it worked for Luke," he mumbled and quickly began stripping, keeping his weapon in hand.

Two minutes later he finished pulling on the Aschen soldier's clothing. It wasn't a great fit, but as long as he kept the pants tucked into his boots, it would pass a brief inspection ... at a distance. Thank goodness for general function keeping boots looking similar - his own looked close enough and he was pretty sure he would have been walking funny in the smaller man's boots.

The helmet's interior squirmed on Jon's head as he put it on, but it stopped after a second and Jon found it fit perfectly, the snug fit keeping it on his head without the need for straps.

"Nifty. Never did like those damned chin straps."

The helmet beeped twice, and then again after a few seconds before going silent. He didn't know if they were 'working' beeps or 'error' beeps, but if the universe was smiling at him he'd be hearing their comm chatter.

He pulled the tablet-like device the soldier had been carrying and examined it briefly. It was a hell of a lot thinner and smaller than the handheld computers he was vaguely familiar with on Earth. It also seemed to be denser, maybe ruggedized for military use or something like that.

Some alien words appeared on the screen when Jon pressed a little bump on the side, and Jon gave up on the item and slid it back into the belt-pouch. The tech-heads would love it, he was sure, but he didn't have time to poke at it; with his luck he would trigger the self-destruct. The rest of the pockets on the man's clothing were filled with odds and ends Jon recognized as the sort of stuff almost every soldier tended to carry along - snacks, some basic med equipment, a set of dice, and a few pieces of electronics.

"Some things will never change," he smiled to himself as he pushed it back into his pockets.

He slung his backpack over a shoulder along with his weapons before dragging the body into a room and took off again, this time heading straight for the bridge. He approached each corner with caution, carefully listening for any new. Twice he heard the echo of several jogging feet coming through the halls, but they seemed to be moving toward the main bridge.

He was getting close to the bridge, the last hallway crossing before the bridge doors was a forty feet ahead, when a doorway next to him suddenly zipped open with a hiss and Jon dropped and spun, weapon ready to fire. The doorway was empty, though. Jon glanced up and down the hallway, backing away a few steps, wary of a trap.

The door suddenly closed and opened. Closed and opened. Jon watched with alarm and growing puzzlement for several seconds before noticing the door's opening and closing pattern was following a pattern, an easy to notice pattern: short-short-short long-long-long.

He looked around the hallway and noted the regular security cameras along the hallway leading to the bridge. He tried waving to one, and the door suddenly stopped its pattern.

Several long seconds passed and suddenly it began opening and closing again, still in short and long motions, but no longer so regular. It was spelling out letters in Morse Code.

Long. Short. Short.

Short.

Short. Short. Short.

"...t, r, o, y, t, p, o, r, t, s, h, i, e, l, d, b, r, i, d, g, e," Jon slowly said to himself as the door cycled back and forth.

He turned and scowled at the camera and started clapping his hands slowly, tapping out a reply.

W, h, e, r, e ….

The door behind him suddenly began flipping open and closed rapidly and he turned back to it. It began signalling letters again.

U, s, e, v, o, i, c, e, k, i, d.

Jon snorted.

"I wonder who's signalling me. Could it be someone who rhymes with geezer," he spoke to the camera. "So destroy the shields in the bridge. Got it. One problem, I know exactly jack about computers, even if I could get access to them while they're shooting at me."

He crossed his arms with a smirk. He was suddenly feeling much, much more confident about this. Whatever this turned out to be.

P, u, t, h, e, a, d, t, o, u, s, e, s, m, a, s, h, c, o, m, p, u, t, e, r, the door signaled back. It paused, then continued.

T, e, n, o, c, l, o, c, k, f, r, o, m, h, a, t, c, h, a, l, o, n, g, b, u, l, k, h, e, a, d.

"Someone's typing for you, Jack," he said even as he turned and began unloading his backpack. "You said 'door', didn't you? And that Morse was way too good to be you."

He dug through his pack, pulling out grenades, and the door didn't answer him.

"Can you tell me what they're doing inside?"

N, o, 2, 3, i, n, s, i, d, e.

"Can you unlock the hatch for me," he asked, stressing 'hatch' as he continued rifling through the backpack.

N, o.

'Of course not, that would be too easy.'

"So, can they see me right now, you know, on the security camera, like you guys?"

N, o, l, o, o, p, i, n, g, v, i, d, e, o.

"Nice. You control the doors and the security video, but not the teleport shielding?"

The door was quiet for several long moments and Jon finished delicately pulling the pins of four grenades and then taping the spoons down with as small of pieces of tape as he dared.

C, o, m, p, u, t, e, r, s, t, u, f, f, the door finally signaled.

J, u, s, t, b, l, o, w, c, o, m, p, u, t, e, r.

"All right. How about this," Jon suggested as he continued his delicate taping operation. "I'll run back up the hallway a bit and you guys turn the cameras back on so they can see me coming. They'll open the door hopefully thinking I'm one of them. That should be enough for me to let loose. Oh, um, how do they signal to come in? Knock?"

D, o, n, t, k, n, o, w, h, a, t, c, h, o, p, e, n, s.

"Crap. Probably they talk over their radios or something. I guess it's the best option we have. Maybe they'll let me in anyway."

A, g, r, e, e, d.

T, h, i, r, t, y, s, e, c, o, n, d, s.

Jon nodded, setting aside the jocularity he'd let flow through him as he had prepared his equipment and planned his assault. His mind began a countdown as he jogged back down the hallway.

His previous plan had been to lure out the people in the bridge. The bridge was one of the strongest parts of the ship and there wasn't a way for him to get in without some serious equipment or maybe Sam's hacking skills.

Or maybe having Jackson would work. With Jackson's luck, he'd lean against the door and have it unlock somehow. Then he'd tumble right into the clutches of some snakeheads, too. Clumsy space monkey.

He wasn't sure what Jack's plan was, but whatever it was, he trusted himself to come up with a solid plan, something that was better than a half-baked idea of forcing defenders out of the bridge. With the teleport shielding down, they might be able to beam up a whole platoon to re-take the ship.

He should have a few seconds of uncertainty where they wouldn't immediately shoot him. As much as it irked him, he'd have to come in without any weapons at the ready, though maybe …

Jon pulled out the wide cloth from the soldier's little pack of med equipment and looped it around and around the four grenades. It was barely enough to keep them together, but it kept them from being obvious as he carried them. Anything for an extra second or two of confusion.

He began obviously limping up the hallway toward the bridge, holding the bundle of pin-less grenades gingerly in his arms.

One way or the other he would make sure that computer was blown. Hopefully he'd even survive.

Jon reached the doorway with a limp and tried to appear tired, and knocked on the thick blast door.

"I'm wounded. Can you hear me?"

He hit the door again and waited.

"I've been wounded by the Earthling," he shouted, again hitting the door.

The blast doors suddenly zipped open and an Aschen soldier, weapon held alertly but not aimed at Jon looked at him curiously before scanning carefully back down the hallway.

"Come in."

Jon limped in, doing his very appear wounded, and angled to the left toward where Jack had said the target computer system was located.

The bridge had a captain's chair in the center and screens lining almost every square inch of the walls with consoles scattered around the sides of the room. Normally the fifteen meter span of the bridge would feel relatively roomy, but it was filled at the moment with soldiers and technicians. In fact, Jon did a quick estimation, he would need to talk with Jack about his count of people in the bridge. Around forty people were packed into the bridge, not the 23 Jack had told him. A collection of a dozen soldiers were nearest to Jon while a multitude of unarmed Aschen were gathered around every computer station.

'Including the one I want,' Jon thought as he glanced toward his goal. There were two seats at the station he guessed held the computers running the teleport shield and four men were gathered around it.

An officer was striding toward him from the captain's chair and behind him ….

Jon's senses went on high alert, and his steps stuttered. A slightly taller man was coming behind him, and everything about him set off warning bells in Jon's mind. The alertness, the air of supreme confidence, and the smooth gate that maintained a perfect balance screamed to Jon that this was a very dangerous person. He would bet a year's pay it was one of the Aschen super soldiers.

"Please, I need to sit," Jon moaned as he stumbled toward the chairs in front of the console. He had to push past two soldiers, but they moved out of his way.

Questions began to pop up around him.

"What happened out there?"

"How many?"

"Are they close behind you?"

He kept an eye on the leader and the super soldier behind him. His staggered path raised some worry on at least the captain's face, but it did put a few soldiers between him and the leader.

"Is your comm damaged?"

"Are you hurt?"

The questions continued as he made his way through the crowd that was now fully focused on him. Thankfully the men gathered around the console that was his goal saw him coming and were moving out of the way, seeing his apparent wounded status.

"What's your name soldier? Where were you stationed and what did you see?"

The Aschen commander's voice cut through the voices and they fell silent as Jon reached the chairs and collapsed. He knew his general goal, but before he had seen the situation in the bridge he hadn't known how he should accomplish it. He had been prepared to break the tape on one and toss the whole bundle almost immediately if they had seen through his disguise too quickly.

He had made it this far, but he was pushing his luck if he took this much further. He plopped the wrapped grenades down on the console in front of him and stuck his hands inside and quickly began popping the spoons up.

Five Mississippi.

"Sir, this was a distraction. Look at the forward screens."

The fourth grenade spoon popped up and Jon pointed toward the front of the bridge and stood up.

Four Mississippi.

"They have cloaked transports bringing in troops."

Three Mississippi.

"Who are you soldier? Give your name," the commander's question was filled with suspicion.

'Yup, that's it. Cover blown!'

Two Mississippi.

Jon leaped forward, sprinting for all he was worth to get as far away from the grenades as he could. The bridge was just barely big enough that grenades on one side wouldn't kill him as long as he was on the other side. Especially if there were a few bodies between him and the blast.

Most of the technicians paused in surprise, but the soldiers were faster and several of them started towards him. However it was the tall man that had followed the commander that reacted most quickly.

'Shit! Definitely enhanced!'

Two soldiers were between Jon and the super soldier, and they were shoved aside with enough force that they were briefly airborne before tumbling through several other people.

Jon grabbed for the knife on his belt even as he ran across the bridge. He had a brief hope that he could make it across the room in time when he passed the captain's chair, the bulky seat providing a barrier between him and the coming -

One Mississippi.

The enhanced soldier's form blurred as he leaped after Jon, clearing twenty feet and the captain's chair in a single leap.

Jon dove forward, trying to dive beyond the man's reach, but felt a hand clamp around his ankle and yank him back with unbelievable strength. He felt himself get spun through the air and then released, flying through the air. The sudden reversal disoriented him and he wasn't sure which direction he was being flung.

'Dear God, not back toward the -'

In the enclosed space the sound of the grenades going off was less a sound than a battering ram slamming into him, and the world tumbled wildly. His helmeted head smacked something and his body felt like it smashed into a solid wall.

A second blast followed the first by a half second and the blast hammered him again, and the world began spinning wildly, the sound oddly muted to Jon's ears. Something hurt, screaming pain was trying to get his attention, but he couldn't quite figure out where the pain was coming from.

Was somebody hurt?

The world swam lazily in front of him, swirling around with red lights flashing a hazy pattern that he couldn't quite seem to grasp. Two more somethings happened, but Jon couldn't quite grasp what they were. They were … loud, but they were oddly muffled.

Something heavy fell on him and his view was suddenly filled with grey.

He tried to concentrate on it, but it didn't make any sense. And the world was spinning. And the red was flashing.

On the grey. What was the grey?

It was getting pretty dark. The grey was hard to make out.

Jon felt a minor annoyance that it was so hard to understand, but it was getting dark, and he was so tired.

Maybe when he woke up he'd figure it ….

Blackness fell over him, and Jon knew no more.


I also want to thank those who wrote comments even during the "dead" time for this story and added the story to your favorites even though it wasn't finished. You guys really did help keep me going through my writing spurts.

I hope to get this cleaned up and post the last several chapters over the next week or two. There's a bit more editing than normal since the writing was spread out over so many tiny sessions over so much time - I fixed three or four little continuity issues just in this little section with things that had gotten dropped/added in future chapters.

Thanks all!