The fools had taken the gun but they hadn't checked all the other uniform pockets and pouches beyond a cursory sweep for other weapons. They obviously hadn't considered a few tools to be dangerous, and that was their mistake. Irina smiled in Miguel's body, still mentally keeping a very literal hold on the man's consciousness to keep it from wrestling her for control. It would have been a nuisance more than anything, he was in no condition to give her any real trouble, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Progress through the ship was made easier by the presence of the lumbering idiot who was following along without question, just like a big dumb dog who only wanted to please. The Dagger's loyalty to his friends was such that he would never suspect anything but the best from them and she had every intention of using that to her advantage. For the time being that meant using his presence, the fact that he was following along calmly and quietly, to disarm anyone and everyone whose paths they crossed. The crew were all too happy to believe that everything was just fine if the Dagger was at ease.

Morons. The lot of them. And this was the UEO's flagship? Their best hope in times of conflict and crisis, at least when it came to maritime affairs? Pathetic. It was no wonder really that she had been able to do as much damage as she had in such a short space of time. They were all of them hopeless and naïve and laughably unaware.

That would make what she had decided to do next, what she had to do next, that much easier.

"Where are we going?" The Dagger didn't sound suspicious, just curious more than anything, perhaps even a little confused. No big shock there. As the prototype this particular model seemed to be rather lacking in the intelligence department, even if it did possess superior strength and endurance.

"I just need to take care of something." Irina turned Miguel's head to look back at the Dagger, giving him her best go at one of the Sensor Chief's seemingly well-known charming smiles. It had the desired effect of setting the big oaf enough at ease that he didn't question their movements any further. At some point that might change but Irina intended to make use of it for as long as it lasted. And so she continued on, moving with the practised ease of someone who had spent a lot of time on the submarine even though she, personally, had never set foot on it. Miguel had a perfect subconscious map of the place and she had utilised it several times already, and now she was doing so again to retrace steps the Sensor Chief had taken in order to follow her earlier commands.

It didn't take them long to reach their destination and Irina made a point of avoiding any suspicious behaviour such as glancing conspicuously up and down the corridor to make sure no one was watching. The idiot crew still hadn't repaired the surveillance system, as far as she knew, and so there was no reason why they should be watching this point in particular. That damned Lieutenant Brody had found his crewmate here not all that long ago, right before questioning him about the attack on the insufferably nosy Communications Officer, but he hadn't had the slightest inkling that anything had been out of the ordinary. Hilarious really. They were all so ready and so willing to trust one another blindly and now here she was to show them just why that was a mistake.

With the Dagger looking on with an obviously puzzled expression she used the tools still stashed in Miguel's various pockets to remove the panel from the lower section of the wall before reaching inside, careful to avoid conduits and wiring in order to reach what she was looking for. The data devices had been packed in a waterproof and airtight pouch, which she went on to tuck securely inside Miguel's uniform jumpsuit, tugging the zipper down a little in order to do so before tugging it back up again. It was the safest place for it, not easily reachable by anyone on the outside or by the man himself if he happened to come back to the forefront for any reason.

Not that she was intending to let that happen any time soon.

"What is that?"

She ignored the Dagger's question and instead gave it another come on jerk of Miguel's head once the panel was secured back in place. It wasn't far to their next destination, their real destination, and Irina didn't plan on letting anyone, certainly not some genetically engineered freak, keep her from getting there.

He knew what she had retrieved. He knew what she was going to do next. Even without being specifically told he could figure it out based on the few clues she had permitted him to see and that gave him even more incentive to fight. The pain was only getting worse but his desperation and determination were increasing right along with it, almost smothering it somehow in their intensity. Muting it.

Whatever the reason for his being able to ignore that pain, he would take it.

Irina's grip on him tightened and she made a low sound of frustration close to his ear, another one of those almost-growls that made her sound that much more like an animal than a human.

It didn't frighten him.

What really frightened him in that moment was the prospect of her getting his body where she wanted to get it to, with so much of what she had set out to retrieve, and very possibly with someone else getting dragged down into this mess in the process.

Miguel couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

Lonnie had lost track of how much time she had spent on the task so far. It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours, realistically, but it felt like she had been working at it for a straight day at least, if not more. That wasn't helped by the fact that she had to keep moving from one place to the other in order to properly achieve what she was aiming for. From her station on the bridge to Sensors and down to the command console and then to more than one specific conduit along the formidable length of the seaQuest, she had to have covered a few miles already, she figured, and she still wasn't sure if she was even close to being done.

With Lucas focusing all of his attention on digging up any and all information on the woman responsible for all of this Lonnie had taken it upon herself to at least try to undo some of the damage that had been done to their systems, namely those concerned with surveillance and security. She had already proven herself to be a more than fair engineer, having her background with her father's solar station to thank for that along with what she had always considered a natural knack for the ins and outs of machines, and so no one even so much as blinked when she set herself to the task at hand. Captain Bridger had given her a nod of approval, and Commander Ford had expressed his hopes that she could make some kind of sense of the mess they had been left with.

Lonnie hoped so too, honestly. She didn't want to have sunk so much time into the endeavour only to come up empty-handed, with nothing to show for it. Contributing absolutely nothing to the problem they were facing wasn't a prospect that sat well with her, not one bit, and that determination and drive kept her working at the problem even when her stomach started growling and her eyes started to ache from the strain of so much prolonged focus on so many fine details.

There was grime up her arms and sweat trickling down her back as she pulled herself out of the tight space filled with crisscrossing wires and circuitry, what must have looked like a chaotic mess to anyone not familiar with such things but to Lonnie it made sense. She could read those lines and twists as if they were words on a page and as she extricated herself carefully from the open panel she was almost tempted to cross her fingers. Pulling in a deep breath, feeling decidedly apprehensive despite her experience and expertise, she reached for the diagnostic device she had connected to the main line and readied herself to check the system again. She had tried it several times already, at different stages during the whole process, periodically checking to see if she had successfully traced the issue all the way back to its source or if she needed to go further still. If she didn't see some positive results this time then she wasn't sure what she was going to do, or where she was going to go next.

For just a few moments she actually did cross her fingers, literally, holding that deep breath she had pulled in and even going so far as to close her eyes and utter the smallest, shortest prayer that she felt would properly convey her desperation.

She managed to hit the button on the device while her eyes were still closed, keeping them that way until she heard the sequence of beeps that told her the diagnostic had finished running.

When she opened her eyes again and looked at the screen she almost couldn't believe it. She almost didn't dare.

"Oh my God." Her laugh of disbelief came out just as breathlessly as the words that had preceded it and for several seconds she just stared, stunned, at the readouts on the display. All of them were positive. There were no feedback loops or system resets or errors of any kind.

It was working.

Jim had wanted to check in with his team again, in person rather than just via his PAL, knowing that it would be easier to give them a full update on the situation if he was in the same room with them. That way he could answer any and all questions they had for him and even though there hadn't been any beyond the basic queries about what they should do next and how the situation was going to be resolved Jim still believed it had been a worthwhile use of his time. It had given him an excuse to stretch his legs as well, something he had been in desperate need of after all the recent developments.

He felt like he had far too much pent-up energy and no outlet for it. Walking around helped. Sitting still in the infirmary for so long definitely hadn't.

Piccolo was still keeping pace with him, obviously not knowing what else to do with himself in their current situation, and Jim normally would have not-so-gently prompted the Seaman to head off and do something else but right then he couldn't help but sympathise. Not knowing what to do, how to keep busy. It was frustrating. So he had let Piccolo tag along and shadow him. And who knew? Maybe it would help Piccolo with his whole rehabilitative service situation, giving him more experience beyond his usual duties.

They were on their way back to the bridge when his PAL chirped. He snagged it from his belt. "Brody here."

"Jim," Ford said back to him. "Henderson's managed to get the security system reset and re-established. We've got cameras running again. There's no way for us to access old footage but at least we can see what's happening going forward."

"About damn time," Jim said, meaning no disrespect to Lonnie and knowing he would probably have to apologise to her personally later on for the unintended impatience in his voice. "Tell Henderson her drinks are on me next time we're on leave." His guys would appreciate having their eyes back, so to speak, and he would get in touch with them as soon as he was done on the line with Ford.

There was something in the Commander's voice that told Jim he had managed to make the other man laugh as he said, "Oh, I will. You can count on it."

There had been a good-natured barb in response half-formed in his head as he and Piccolo rounded a corner only to come up short, stunned into stillness by the sight ahead of them at the other end of the corridor.

Dagwood saw them first. "Hi, Tony! Hi, Jim!"

Behind the GELF and just visible behind his large frame was another figure, easily identifiable thanks to the distinct jet black hair. Even without that striking feature Jim would have recognised Miguel's height, his build, and pretty much everything else about him. The two of them had spent enough time together since he had come aboard the seaQuest, it would have been all but impossible for him to mistake that figure for anyone else.

But the posture. It was all wrong. There was something about it, something almost predatory, that made a chill trace the length of Jim's spine.

"Uhh." Piccolo's less than eloquent reaction told Jim that his companion had picked up on the wrongness of the situation as well.

Miguel's body turned and his eyes looked back at them but even at a distance Jim recognised that it wasn't his friend standing there. Miguel wasn't in the driving seat. It was the same person who had been holding that gun on Captain Bridger, the same person who had tried to choke the life out of Lucas, and the same person who had hurt O'Neill and Doctor Smith.

It was the psychic.

"Dagwood," he said, speaking clearly and loudly enough that there would be no mistaking his words. "Move away from him. Right now." Jim was relieved that he hadn't removed the weapon from his belt, which he was already reaching for as he spoke. If Dagwood hadn't been where he was, right in the line of fire, he would have taken the shot already.

"C'mon, Dag," Piccolo added, making a summoning motion with his hand, obviously trying to stay calm even though there was an obvious hint of concern in his voice.

Dagwood was frowning, looking back and forth between the two of them, clearly not understanding. "Why?" He sounded confused. "Ortiz said he feels better."

That told Jim everything he needed to know. Dagwood had been tricked into freeing Miguel, or more to the point the psychic who was hitching a ride in his brain. Now he was struggling to understand what was going on, or thinking he had done something wrong, and as much as Jim liked the big guy they just didn't have time for this.

"Dagwood—"

Miguel bolted. Already at the other end of the corridor, at the next junction, he seized the opportunity their hesitation had presented and took off running, almost immediately disappearing from sight.

"Dammit!" Jim snatched the weapon from his belt all the way, throwing himself forward as he raised his PAL in his other hand. "This is Brody, we have a security breach: prisoner on the loose!" There was no time for any more than that, he couldn't run the risk of losing ground if he kept trying to shout into his PAL while he ran, and as it was he already had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly where Ortiz was heading.

He had made a mistake. A terrible mistake. Tony and Jim looked upset. Concerned. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

And then Ortiz started running.

Dagwood understood too late what was happening, a low sound like a whine knotting in the base of his throat as he watched the man heading down the corridor they had been about to turn down. He turned his head just as Tony and Lieutenant Brody started running towards him.

Ortiz wasn't better. It had been a lie.

And Dagwood had helped him. He shouldn't have.

Now he had to try and make it right.

"Dagwood, wait!" That was Tony, calling after him loudly, but Dagwood had already taken off running as well, following the same path that Ortiz had taken and moving as fast as he could. Behind him he could hear Jim and Tony running to catch up but he was a Dagger. He was fast and strong, very fast and very strong if he needed to be. And right now he needed to be.

He had to make this right.

The idiot was gaining on her. She could hear his loud thudding footsteps behind her as she went, using all of Miguel's speed and athleticism to her advantage to get where she needed them to be in order to salvage what she could of this messy situation. Crewmembers gasped and exclaimed and darted or sprang out of the way as she wheeled around corners and sprinted down lengths of corridor on her way to her destination, knowing that it was close but knowing that the big brute was managing to not only keep pace but close the gap between them.

It was maddening. After all of the time and effort that she had put into all of this she refused to be bested by a creature who was barely even human, a genetic accident that should have been corrected, or better yet destroyed, as soon as those idiotic scientists realised their mistake.

The end of the path into the launch bay was tight and made even trickier to traverse by its bends and short passages that were difficult to take at high speed. More than one person was slammed out of the way, bodily, having failed to move out of the way on their own quickly enough, and Irina wasn't even the slightest bit sorry for that. The unfortunate downside of those collisions was that those people were already out of the way for the Dagger on her tail, and each impact succeeded in slowing her down just that little bit more. It was all she could do not to scream in frustration.

From within the mind of the man whose body she was controlling as if it were her own she felt a rush of amusement and the beginnings of a sweeping sense of triumph. That only enraged her further, made her push that much harder, and she forcefully seized what she needed from his mind as she reached the control station for the nearest docking point.

The sequence was punched in quickly, with forceful determination, but even as she managed to swing Miguel's body around the opening hatch and into the yawning space beyond the Dagger caught up with her. The collision was hard and fast and without any thought for what would happen next and Irina unleashed a ragged shout as Miguel's body was driven right into the far wall beyond the ladder leading down into whatever vehicle was at the bottom.

That impact against the wall, that solid slam of body against bulkhead, reverberated through the blackness of their surroundings with the force of a quake. There was even an ominous and imposing rumble to go along with it as the space in which she had confined them both literally shook and shuddered.

Irina's grip slipped and she stumbled, almost losing her footing.

Miguel didn't waste the opportunity, twisting his aching body and ramming an elbow back at her. He felt it connect, a sharp blow, and in the same instant that she was shoved messily backward he threw himself forward, all but bellowing as he did so, "Dagwood!"

The light and colour and brilliance of that scene ahead rushed towards him, an almost overwhelming wave of awareness that threatened to undo everything he had just worked so hard to achieve but right as he felt like he was going to lose it all he reminded himself again what was at stake and managed to hold on. The blackness dropped away instantly, gone in the blink of an eye, and instead there was Dagwood and the walls and the hard metal underfoot as voices rose in alarm and confusion. Dagwood's hands were on him, big and strong and gripping firmly, and he looked the GELF in the eyes and almost laughed as a wave of relief and gratitude came over him.

But it didn't last long.

Like a fire suddenly blazing into being Irina's fury rose up in the back of his mind, burning forward, hot and hungry and powerful.

He couldn't hold it.

"Dagwood," he gasped out, holding the GELF's gaze and hoping, praying, pleading to whatever higher power would listen that the other man would hear him. See him. Know him. "Dag, it's me. It's me."

Please, please, please—

That fury was growing, searing and scorching and coming closer with each passing moment. Soon it would swallow him whole and Miguel realised in a moment of blind panic and terror that he didn't know if he would survive it. "Dag—"

Dagwood's expression softened, the harsh furrow of his frown smoothing out and his voice softening as he said, a little hesitantly, "Ortiz?"

"It's me, Dag," he managed, nodding his head, the motion shaky and unsteady as his heart raced and his mind railed against what was coming. Closer and closer. So close now. "It's—" No time. No time for that. Irina's fury was almost blinding. "Dagwood," he pressed instead, his hands on the GELF's arms, and then on his chest, and then back on his arms. His eyes were stinging. "Dag, you—you have to let me go."

The sound in the base of the GELF's throat was low and confused.

"You have to let me go, Dagwood." Because he couldn't hold on. Because he couldn't stop her. He was almost out of time and he didn't want anyone else to get hurt. "Please. Please, Dag, let me go."

"But—" Another low sound, almost a whine of confusion. "You should stay." Because the crew could help, they could make it better, they could save him. All of that Miguel saw in Dagwood's eyes as the GELF looked at him, fighting and failing to understand.

His hold was slipping. Any moment now.

"I can't." His voice was strangled, emotion and the strain of the fight making it thin and fragile. "Dagwood," he gasped again. "Dagwood, please."

Another whine. Another frown.

And then Dagwood eased up, loosened his grip, stepped back. Stepped away.

Miguel let out a shuddering breath flooded with relief and met the GELF's eyes one more time. "Thank you," he managed before the crush of Irina's fury came roaring even closer, on the verge of overcoming him, and he moved before his chance to do so vanished and things got so much worse.

Jim and Tony came barrelling around the corner, voices raised in protests that Miguel didn't really hear as he scrambled to the top of the ladder and then slid swiftly down the outer rails, the soles of his boots streaking all the way down to solid ground at the bottom. He moved quickly, striking controls and punching in commands even as he struggled to focus and breathe, working as much from muscle memory as anything else.

He felt as much as heard the hatches close and seal, seeing the flash of lights on the helm as the launch confirmed that they were on their way out of the bay. Miguel managed to hold on to consciousness and awareness just long enough to see the grand expanse of the ocean depths beyond seaQuest's launch bay before Irina surged back up and took it all away again. He let her do it. After so long spent fighting and pleading and desperately reaching it was almost a relief to let go.