[Short chapter on this one, but I'm told that I should warn you that you
may need a Kleenex.
sigh Formatting strikes again. If I upload an html file, it changes all my punctuation to strange symbols. If I upload a doc file, it erases all my italics. Why can't I make this work! : ( Since lack of formatting is better than odd symbols in place of punctuation, I'm going with the 'doc' option. The flashback scenes used to be in italics. Use your imaginations. grin
Damn. Just noted that some of my punctuation is disappearing as well as the spacing. This is not my fault! grin Well, I'm sure it is, but I claim ignorance. ]
Chapter Eight
"Honey. . . sit still. We'll be home soon."
"Tired, mom." The little girl shoved her knuckles into her eyes, trying to rub away the sleepy feelings. A yawn threatened to split her skull.
"You did very well, princess." Her father's voice. He was driving, but managed to catch her eyes in the rear view mirror. It was dark and stormy, scattering snow flitted across the road. They were coming back from the meeting with the teachers. They had all spoken in glowing terms of her progress. . . talks of accelerated classes, special lessons, challenge exams. . . university in maybe two years. Such a huge step for the ten year old.
"Are you excited about starting high school soon, love?" Her mother leaned back. Her face was shadowed, hidden by the backlighting of the headlights of oncoming traffic.
The girl shrugged. "Can I study geology now, mom?" She asked plaintively. Some parents hid their child's video games or cookies, they had to hide her textbooks. They kept reminding her that she was brilliant, so smart, but she was a growing girl. She needed time to just act her age and enjoy her life.
Her father laughed. "We'll see how high school goes. I think their geography classes include some physical geography."
The girl sniffed. "Nnnoooo. Basic tectonics and simple landscape building processes. Baby stuff. I learned that years ago."
Her parents exchanged fond glances. Her father's eyebrows arched up, his eyes barely visible in the mirror. "Love, we just want you to know how proud we are of you. You've worked so hard."
Her mother reached back and touched her hand to her daughter's cheek. "Your father's right, you know. You've surprised us so often, but it's been amazing watching you. I know that only wonderful things will happen to you from now on."
Distracted by the cozy family moment, her father reacted too late when the drunk driver swerved right into their lane and hit them head on.
- - - - -
"No!" Emma screamed in futile denial, starting awake. She was lying on the floor of her cell, by herself. She trembled with shock. This was the first time she had ever come close to remembering her parents. Of course, she couldn't remember their faces, but their words. . . for a tantalising moment, she almost had their voices. Almost.
She turned on her side and curled up, caught between trying to open up that long elusive memory and wanting it to stop before it got to the cries and pain and blood and loneliness.
She frowned as reality set in. She was bound still, thick cuffs on her wrists but she was not wearing that horrific sensory deprivation helmet. She squinted at a figure sitting on the floor outside her cell.
"Delightful." Osiris all but purred. Emma slid upright and slithered backward, propping herself up against the wall. "I have been watching you torn apart by nightmares. The Asgard managed to maintain his composure. Quite disappointing. You have given me an exhilarating show." He grinned. "Did you realise that you are crying? What were you remembering?"
"Go to hell." Emma snarled. "Show's over."
Osiris laughed. "Oh, no. I'm afraid that the games are just beginning. Do you remember your little escapades in the surgery theatre?" Emma went a pale green shade as vague thoughts crawled their way through her abused mind. "Ah yes, I see you do. Your Major Sanchez is catatonic. I think I broke him."
"Bitch!" Emma was on her feet in an instant, hurling herself at the Goa'uld. She came up short as she hit the energy barricade, pinned like an insect in amber. She twitched, frozen, until Osiris released the barrier, dumping her shaking and gagging on the ground. Once again, those pointed shoes found Emma's ribs and kicked her back into the cell so Osiris could reset the energy barrier.
"Tsk, tsk, Emma." Osiris paced in front of the cell as Emma tried to school her traitorous muscles long enough to at least give Osiris the finger. "You must be careful. You're carrying Goa'uld technology now." Emma managed a small frown. Osiris tapped a finger to his temple. "We didn't do that little bit of impromptu surgery just for the fun of it, you know. You have a Goa'uld memory probe in your brain now. Whatever you were just thinking is just the tip of the iceberg, and everything you think will be going into our computers." Osiris gave a delighted sigh. "I look forward to pleasant hours of reviewing your most private and intimate torments."
Emma screamed, too angered for words. Finally, she put everything she had into speaking clearly. "Asinine, pusillanimous, vociferous little malfeasant." She insulted as only an academic could. "Now I'll fight it. You could have had it easily. I'll never let you in."
Osiris stepped forward. "Oh, please do fight, Emma. I look forward to breaking you. I will leave you as empty and damaged as your lovely Patrick."
Infuriated, Emma stood and slammed her fists against the side of the cell wall, putting dents in the golden metal with her heavy cuffs. She swore at Osiris in a half a dozen languages. The Goa'uld merely laughed as he retreated, his goal achieved.
Emma ranted for another full five minutes before exhaustion drove her to her knees. The moment her anger faded, the memories started.
- - - - -
A jarring thud and a terrible squeal. The little girl was thrown forward, her head colliding with her mother's arm. Mother's heavy bracelet hit her, splitting open her temple and the seatbelt snugged tightly around her hips, digging in.
The girl screamed as her mother's blood coated her. The other driver hit them head on, no room to move, no hope of braking. His truck crushed the front of the smaller car, pushing the engine, everything, into the laps of those in the front seat.
The steering column crushed her father's chest. He was dead before the sounds of squealing and broken glass died away. Mother, twisted in her seat to praise her daughter, lived longer as the life was slowly squeezed from her, chest filling with blood.
Emma sat in the back, miraculously whole. Her belly hurt and she blinked the blood out of her eye, but she would survive. . . physically. Her golden eyes were wide with shock, screams burbling in the back of her throat, but unable to break free.
//Oh. . . momma. . . please. Don't momma, please don't. Please no. I'll be good, I'll get help. Don't go.//
"Emma, honey." Her mother's broken voice whispered to her softly. "Emma, baby, close your eyes. Don't remember momma and poppa like this." A cold and shaking hand touched her cheek, smoothing away the tears that spilled free.
//Momma, no. I need you. Momma, don't go, please.//
The hand slipped to her knee. "Emma, baby. Momma and poppa love you. We love you sweetie and we'll always be with you. You'll never be alone."
She tried to speak. If she could say something, do something, then momma wouldn't go. She reached her hand out to touch her mother. Before she could, her mother's free hand came up and grasped her fingers. "Don't touch, Emma. I don't want you to remember this. Close your eyes."
But she couldn't. Couldn't move, couldn't speak. . . couldn't even close her traitorous eyes. And now momma was crying. Disappointed in her? Why couldn't she obey?
//Momma! No!//
- - - - -
"Oh God!" Emma's back arched and she sobbed aloud. She'd forgotten that. . . what the hell was this mad device doing to her? "Stop it!" She screamed out, but Osiris was long gone. Couldn't even be bothered to stay and taunt her.
She pulled herself to her feet. "You will not win!" She snarled. Osiris would get this message somehow. "You hear me? You got me, Sarah? You will never be better than me. I have seen you fail at everything, and I will be damned if I let you win now." She was roaring in absolute, defiant fury.
Her back hit the wall and she slumped forward. This thing in her head felt about twenty pounds heavier now. She could almost feel it worming its way into her thoughts, into her dreams. She hissed, muscles sore and aching from her impact with the energy barrier.
A terrible grin crossed her face. "You will not win, Sarah. I promise you this." She took three running steps forward and hurled her body into the energy wall. As before, it gripped and held her, jolting her painfully.
This time, there was no one there to stop it.
- - - - -
"How much longer, Carter?" Jack whispered. His lower back was getting stiff from walking hunched over for thirty minutes, every muscle on high alert.
"According to the Tok'ra, sir, it should be only another five minutes. We're early. Our contact won't be expecting us for another hour."
"Well. . . yippee. Let's use that time well, kids. I want to lay out as much C4 as we can, bring this place down."
"O'Neill, the lower rooms of the base will likely be used only for storage. If we can make our way there, we should be able to plant explosives along the support structures. This will increase the destructive potential of our weaponry."
"Make base blow now, huh, Teal'c?" O'Neill quipped, paraphrasing a Simpsons reference.
"I believe that 'now' would be an inappropriate time, O'Neill."
"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Teal'c. . . haven't you learned anything about popular culture yet?"
"Sir. . . we should really be quiet now."
"Right Carter. Lead on."
- - - - -
Dimitri and Joe tapped frantic signs to each other across Patrick's unresponsive chest. The Major had been unconscious for hours. Nothing they did seemed to get through to him. Locked in the godforsaken blindfolds, they couldn't make him hear or see them.
- - - - -
Forty-five minutes later, the explosives had been set. Jack had given it some thought, and then decided on a three hour pre-set detonation. If, for some reason, they were unable to escape and blow the base, the pre-sets would take care of that for them.
They were moving into position to meet their contact Tolme, ducking around corridors and sneaking past patrols. Carter, following the map, managed to located their meeting point easily. They approached cautiously, weapons raised. A lone figure stood in an empty storage room, hiding among the boxes.
Teal'c was the one to corral the him. The man stiffened at the sound of a staff weapon powering up inches from his ear as Teal'c did the Jaffa thing and snuck up on him.
Immediately, his hands went up. "I am Tolme. . . your contact."
Carter kept Jack covered as the Colonel stepped out into the open. "He's a Goa'uld, sir."
Teal'c kept his weapon ready, but backed up a few steps. Talking over his gun, Jack gave Tolme a level stare. "You're the Tok'ra?"
Back still to Jack, Tolme lowered his hands. "Actually. . ." Jack frowned and aimed his gun, but he was too late. Tolme turned and zatted him. As he crumpled to the ground, Teal'c fired. Tolme spun in a circle, his shoulder smoking, as Carter and Teal'c were zatted by unseen enemies.
Groaning, Tolme staggered to his feet. He nudged Jack's head with his foot and then grinned. "Actually, Colonel O'Neill, I am a servant of the great Lord Osiris." He chuckled before motioning for the Jaffa hidden in the room to come out. "Take them. My Lord will wish to question them. I am certain they can tell him the whereabouts of Doctor Jackson."
- - - - -
sigh Formatting strikes again. If I upload an html file, it changes all my punctuation to strange symbols. If I upload a doc file, it erases all my italics. Why can't I make this work! : ( Since lack of formatting is better than odd symbols in place of punctuation, I'm going with the 'doc' option. The flashback scenes used to be in italics. Use your imaginations. grin
Damn. Just noted that some of my punctuation is disappearing as well as the spacing. This is not my fault! grin Well, I'm sure it is, but I claim ignorance. ]
Chapter Eight
"Honey. . . sit still. We'll be home soon."
"Tired, mom." The little girl shoved her knuckles into her eyes, trying to rub away the sleepy feelings. A yawn threatened to split her skull.
"You did very well, princess." Her father's voice. He was driving, but managed to catch her eyes in the rear view mirror. It was dark and stormy, scattering snow flitted across the road. They were coming back from the meeting with the teachers. They had all spoken in glowing terms of her progress. . . talks of accelerated classes, special lessons, challenge exams. . . university in maybe two years. Such a huge step for the ten year old.
"Are you excited about starting high school soon, love?" Her mother leaned back. Her face was shadowed, hidden by the backlighting of the headlights of oncoming traffic.
The girl shrugged. "Can I study geology now, mom?" She asked plaintively. Some parents hid their child's video games or cookies, they had to hide her textbooks. They kept reminding her that she was brilliant, so smart, but she was a growing girl. She needed time to just act her age and enjoy her life.
Her father laughed. "We'll see how high school goes. I think their geography classes include some physical geography."
The girl sniffed. "Nnnoooo. Basic tectonics and simple landscape building processes. Baby stuff. I learned that years ago."
Her parents exchanged fond glances. Her father's eyebrows arched up, his eyes barely visible in the mirror. "Love, we just want you to know how proud we are of you. You've worked so hard."
Her mother reached back and touched her hand to her daughter's cheek. "Your father's right, you know. You've surprised us so often, but it's been amazing watching you. I know that only wonderful things will happen to you from now on."
Distracted by the cozy family moment, her father reacted too late when the drunk driver swerved right into their lane and hit them head on.
- - - - -
"No!" Emma screamed in futile denial, starting awake. She was lying on the floor of her cell, by herself. She trembled with shock. This was the first time she had ever come close to remembering her parents. Of course, she couldn't remember their faces, but their words. . . for a tantalising moment, she almost had their voices. Almost.
She turned on her side and curled up, caught between trying to open up that long elusive memory and wanting it to stop before it got to the cries and pain and blood and loneliness.
She frowned as reality set in. She was bound still, thick cuffs on her wrists but she was not wearing that horrific sensory deprivation helmet. She squinted at a figure sitting on the floor outside her cell.
"Delightful." Osiris all but purred. Emma slid upright and slithered backward, propping herself up against the wall. "I have been watching you torn apart by nightmares. The Asgard managed to maintain his composure. Quite disappointing. You have given me an exhilarating show." He grinned. "Did you realise that you are crying? What were you remembering?"
"Go to hell." Emma snarled. "Show's over."
Osiris laughed. "Oh, no. I'm afraid that the games are just beginning. Do you remember your little escapades in the surgery theatre?" Emma went a pale green shade as vague thoughts crawled their way through her abused mind. "Ah yes, I see you do. Your Major Sanchez is catatonic. I think I broke him."
"Bitch!" Emma was on her feet in an instant, hurling herself at the Goa'uld. She came up short as she hit the energy barricade, pinned like an insect in amber. She twitched, frozen, until Osiris released the barrier, dumping her shaking and gagging on the ground. Once again, those pointed shoes found Emma's ribs and kicked her back into the cell so Osiris could reset the energy barrier.
"Tsk, tsk, Emma." Osiris paced in front of the cell as Emma tried to school her traitorous muscles long enough to at least give Osiris the finger. "You must be careful. You're carrying Goa'uld technology now." Emma managed a small frown. Osiris tapped a finger to his temple. "We didn't do that little bit of impromptu surgery just for the fun of it, you know. You have a Goa'uld memory probe in your brain now. Whatever you were just thinking is just the tip of the iceberg, and everything you think will be going into our computers." Osiris gave a delighted sigh. "I look forward to pleasant hours of reviewing your most private and intimate torments."
Emma screamed, too angered for words. Finally, she put everything she had into speaking clearly. "Asinine, pusillanimous, vociferous little malfeasant." She insulted as only an academic could. "Now I'll fight it. You could have had it easily. I'll never let you in."
Osiris stepped forward. "Oh, please do fight, Emma. I look forward to breaking you. I will leave you as empty and damaged as your lovely Patrick."
Infuriated, Emma stood and slammed her fists against the side of the cell wall, putting dents in the golden metal with her heavy cuffs. She swore at Osiris in a half a dozen languages. The Goa'uld merely laughed as he retreated, his goal achieved.
Emma ranted for another full five minutes before exhaustion drove her to her knees. The moment her anger faded, the memories started.
- - - - -
A jarring thud and a terrible squeal. The little girl was thrown forward, her head colliding with her mother's arm. Mother's heavy bracelet hit her, splitting open her temple and the seatbelt snugged tightly around her hips, digging in.
The girl screamed as her mother's blood coated her. The other driver hit them head on, no room to move, no hope of braking. His truck crushed the front of the smaller car, pushing the engine, everything, into the laps of those in the front seat.
The steering column crushed her father's chest. He was dead before the sounds of squealing and broken glass died away. Mother, twisted in her seat to praise her daughter, lived longer as the life was slowly squeezed from her, chest filling with blood.
Emma sat in the back, miraculously whole. Her belly hurt and she blinked the blood out of her eye, but she would survive. . . physically. Her golden eyes were wide with shock, screams burbling in the back of her throat, but unable to break free.
//Oh. . . momma. . . please. Don't momma, please don't. Please no. I'll be good, I'll get help. Don't go.//
"Emma, honey." Her mother's broken voice whispered to her softly. "Emma, baby, close your eyes. Don't remember momma and poppa like this." A cold and shaking hand touched her cheek, smoothing away the tears that spilled free.
//Momma, no. I need you. Momma, don't go, please.//
The hand slipped to her knee. "Emma, baby. Momma and poppa love you. We love you sweetie and we'll always be with you. You'll never be alone."
She tried to speak. If she could say something, do something, then momma wouldn't go. She reached her hand out to touch her mother. Before she could, her mother's free hand came up and grasped her fingers. "Don't touch, Emma. I don't want you to remember this. Close your eyes."
But she couldn't. Couldn't move, couldn't speak. . . couldn't even close her traitorous eyes. And now momma was crying. Disappointed in her? Why couldn't she obey?
//Momma! No!//
- - - - -
"Oh God!" Emma's back arched and she sobbed aloud. She'd forgotten that. . . what the hell was this mad device doing to her? "Stop it!" She screamed out, but Osiris was long gone. Couldn't even be bothered to stay and taunt her.
She pulled herself to her feet. "You will not win!" She snarled. Osiris would get this message somehow. "You hear me? You got me, Sarah? You will never be better than me. I have seen you fail at everything, and I will be damned if I let you win now." She was roaring in absolute, defiant fury.
Her back hit the wall and she slumped forward. This thing in her head felt about twenty pounds heavier now. She could almost feel it worming its way into her thoughts, into her dreams. She hissed, muscles sore and aching from her impact with the energy barrier.
A terrible grin crossed her face. "You will not win, Sarah. I promise you this." She took three running steps forward and hurled her body into the energy wall. As before, it gripped and held her, jolting her painfully.
This time, there was no one there to stop it.
- - - - -
"How much longer, Carter?" Jack whispered. His lower back was getting stiff from walking hunched over for thirty minutes, every muscle on high alert.
"According to the Tok'ra, sir, it should be only another five minutes. We're early. Our contact won't be expecting us for another hour."
"Well. . . yippee. Let's use that time well, kids. I want to lay out as much C4 as we can, bring this place down."
"O'Neill, the lower rooms of the base will likely be used only for storage. If we can make our way there, we should be able to plant explosives along the support structures. This will increase the destructive potential of our weaponry."
"Make base blow now, huh, Teal'c?" O'Neill quipped, paraphrasing a Simpsons reference.
"I believe that 'now' would be an inappropriate time, O'Neill."
"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Teal'c. . . haven't you learned anything about popular culture yet?"
"Sir. . . we should really be quiet now."
"Right Carter. Lead on."
- - - - -
Dimitri and Joe tapped frantic signs to each other across Patrick's unresponsive chest. The Major had been unconscious for hours. Nothing they did seemed to get through to him. Locked in the godforsaken blindfolds, they couldn't make him hear or see them.
- - - - -
Forty-five minutes later, the explosives had been set. Jack had given it some thought, and then decided on a three hour pre-set detonation. If, for some reason, they were unable to escape and blow the base, the pre-sets would take care of that for them.
They were moving into position to meet their contact Tolme, ducking around corridors and sneaking past patrols. Carter, following the map, managed to located their meeting point easily. They approached cautiously, weapons raised. A lone figure stood in an empty storage room, hiding among the boxes.
Teal'c was the one to corral the him. The man stiffened at the sound of a staff weapon powering up inches from his ear as Teal'c did the Jaffa thing and snuck up on him.
Immediately, his hands went up. "I am Tolme. . . your contact."
Carter kept Jack covered as the Colonel stepped out into the open. "He's a Goa'uld, sir."
Teal'c kept his weapon ready, but backed up a few steps. Talking over his gun, Jack gave Tolme a level stare. "You're the Tok'ra?"
Back still to Jack, Tolme lowered his hands. "Actually. . ." Jack frowned and aimed his gun, but he was too late. Tolme turned and zatted him. As he crumpled to the ground, Teal'c fired. Tolme spun in a circle, his shoulder smoking, as Carter and Teal'c were zatted by unseen enemies.
Groaning, Tolme staggered to his feet. He nudged Jack's head with his foot and then grinned. "Actually, Colonel O'Neill, I am a servant of the great Lord Osiris." He chuckled before motioning for the Jaffa hidden in the room to come out. "Take them. My Lord will wish to question them. I am certain they can tell him the whereabouts of Doctor Jackson."
- - - - -