Chapter Fifteen: I am John Crichton…
O'Neill kept his eyes glued to the two men in front of him as he addressed the young Lieutenant's claim.
"You know this man, Hailey?" he rapped out.
Crichton was a little surprised himself as he looked at the small blond woman cradling the big assault rifle, one which looked every bit as lethal as the one that Colonel O'Neill had. Try as he might, he couldn't recall ever meeting her.
"No, sir," Hailey said slowly, still focused on Crichton. "I don't know him personally, just from news coverage a few years back. But he looks and sounds just like John Crichton."
"That's because I am John Crichton." Crichton carefully scrutinized the people before him. The pieces were falling into place. The way they talked, the way they were dressed in army greens and behaved. They were speaking English all right, with an American accent.
Were they really from Earth?
He decided to play it safe and keep his cards close to his chest. They could be fakes, planted by the Peacekeepers or something worse. But how would they have known that Talyn was coming here? Also, what were the astronomical odds of his chances encountering people from Earth way out here in a Goa'uld spaceship of all places? It made winning a multi-state lottery look like a sure thing by comparison.
Then again, what would be the chances of encountering a group of human refugees from another part of the galaxy?
"Are you guys from Earth?" Crichton asked with a carefully guarded expression.
Beside him Apollo shot him an astonished look. "Are these your people, Crichton? The Tau'ri?"
"We'll find out in a minute, Apollo." Crichton replied under his breath.
"Ya," O'Neill answered them both. "We're from the planet, Earth. I am now recalling those news bulletins too and if you are really John Crichton, why aren't you a smear of debris in orbit? Didn't you die over three years ago in a ship explosion or something?"
"That's a long story," Crichton answered with a hint of amusement. "But trust me, I'm quite alive."
"There was no explosion, sir," Hailey said to O'Neill. "Space radar showed no break up of his craft or a re-entry burn up. He disappeared as if something swallowed his ship whole. However, investigators concluded that his module did explode, incinerating the entire ship and obliterating it from radar, although I always assumed that they were wrong. I got curious and reviewed all the information that I could get on his module. There was nothing on his ship could cause such an powerful explosion."
Crichton looked at Hailey. The young Lieutenant was closer to the truth than she knew. She was one smart cookie.
"Listen," Apollo said to O'Neill. "If you are truly the Tau'ri then you're amongst friends. We meant you no harm."
"That's very nice of you to say, but we've heard that one before," O'Neill said, refusing to put his rifle away. He studied Apollo's uniform. "And just what are you supposed to be? A futuristic cowboy?"
Apollo stared back dumbfounded by the comment. "A cow what?"
"It's an old Earth Western American reference," Crichton explained to Apollo. "A cultural idom. Ask Sheba later. She'll know."
"Okay," Apollo nodded and focused on O'Neill again. "This might be hard to believe, but you are our long lost thirteenth tribe of humanity. We've been seeking you and your world for nearly three yahrens."
"Ya... right," O'Neill muttered in a low voice, then he called out, "Daniel, get over here and talk to this gentleman. He has something to say that you might like to hear."
"If you have any doubts, you may keep your weapons," Apollo offered. "Although I wish to know about the Jaffa and Goa'uld in your company, and why they're apparently on your side."
"I intend to take you up on that offer," O'Neill said keeping a tight hold on his rifle. "As for your question. This is Teal'c, our friendly neighbourhood Jaffa." He gestured towards a large powerful looking dark skinned man who slowly rose up from behind a console. He had a golden emblem on his forehead and hadn't lowered the staff weapon that he held. "He saved our lives a while back and is now fighting with us against the System Lords to free his people. Quite a few of his fellow Jaffa warriors have followed him into rebellion."
O'Neill then pointed to the female crouched behind the pilot's seat, armed with a Zat gun. "The 'Goa'uld' you mention prefers to call themselves the Tok'ra. They're the same species as the Goa'uld, but with an entirely different outlook on things. They are against the ways of the System Lords and our allies. The host's name is Freya and the symbiont is called Anise."
"Symbiont?" Crichton whispered, then spoke in a slightly louder voice. "There's something living inside her?"
By now, Daniel had stepped up alongside O'Neill. "The host shares control of their body with the symbiont," he explained carefully to Crichton and Apollo. "In return, the host gains the symbiont's knowledge, superior health and resistance to injury, and a long life. It's not as bad as you might think."
"I'll just take your word for it," Crichton said with a shudder, having had his fair share of encounters with creepy crawly critters and his neural clone, Harvey. "By the way, why don't you have one if its so beneficial?"
O'Neill and Daniel looked at each other briefly. "Personal preference, I guess." Daniel finally admitted.
"Honest enough answer," Crichton said. "Now, how did you get this ship and your two unique friends?"
"The ship is a loaner," O'Neill explained. "And we met each other by way of the Stargate."
"So there is one on Earth!" Crichton said. "Figures! Where do you keep it? Hidden inside Area 51?"
"Try a little deeper." O'Neill smiled slightly.
"You know about it?" Daniel asked.
"We'll gladly tell you everything when time allows, but we're still too close to Tobin and we need to return to the fleet," Apollo said. "There's no room on Talyn to hold your shuttle, so we need to rig it for towing."
"Wait a minute!" O'Neill's eyes widened. "You have a fleet? As in having more than one ship? As in armada?"
Apollo smiled somberly. "I wouldn't call it an armada. Just a simple ragtag fleet loaded with weary refugees. They're all that is left of our civilization except for you."
"Just how many ships are we taking about?" Daniel inquired with interest.
"Two hundred and five ships, of all types and sizes," Apollo answered.
"And you're all heading for Earth?" O'Neill exclaimed. Then he thought, Whoa! I'm going to need all of my vacation time just to fill out this mission report when or if I get back!
***
She ran.
There was little else she could do.
And he chased after her. It felt like he was toying with her. He could stop her at anytime, but why didn't he?
Carter was hoping to buy time, enough time to let her think of a way out. To escape this artificial reality that was apparently taking place entirely in her mind. She remembered SG-1's encounter with the Gamekeeper years ago. Unfortunately, that meeting had shown how she and the rest of the team were powerless to escape his artificially created reality. Until they later learned of the 'exit' that permitted them to wake up from the machines that they were plugged into.
Sadly, she had no such way out here. She was drugged and Scorpius was not going to let her go so easily.
With no other apparent options, Carter continued to run for her life, and her sanity.
She just needed time. To figure a way to escape, or to resist Scorpius' probing of her mind.
She just needed time...
As she ran down yet another corridor, a blast door suddenly lowered down from the ceiling, cutting her off. Carter quickly spun around and raced back the way she had come.
I guess Scorpius is getting tired of chasing me. I can't let him trap me! she thought, as she retraced her steps.
As Carter rounded another corner, up ahead another blast door lowered itself down to the floor with an ominous chunk.
Feeling a little more frantic now, Carter raced down another corridor only to find that it too was now sealed off.
Oh, God! He has me.
Carter ran her hands through her short trimmed hair, desperate for an idea, a plan. Something... Anything!
Please, someone help me. she thought in a silent plea.
A phantom voice echoed down the corridor behind her.
"Samantha. Your time of avoiding me is over."
After a moment, Carter realized that she was trembling. She couldn't prevent fear from engulfing her. In her situation anyone else would have been frozen with it. She acknowledged the fear, but she wasn't going to let it paralyze her to inaction. If this was going to be her final stand, then so be it, but she wasn't going to make it easier for Scorpius.
Carter hurried back down the corridor, checking the rooms and was surprised to realize that she was on the level where Doctor Daniel Jackson's lab was. Sudden hope blossomed as she entered his research room. If this was an exact recreation from her memories, then she could turn this area and it's contents to her advantage.
***
Scorpius was surprised at how well Samantha was fighting his attempts to break her. The Human mind is always full of surprises, as he learned from his time in battle against John Crichton.
When Commander Arin interrupted him, it seemed to give Carter time to reinforce her mental defences, but he was slowly breaking them down again. Now he was tracking her down and had her cornered.
She was close...
He entered a room littered with books, and old and rather useless relics. What benefit could possibly be derived from examining clay pots and stone tools?
He surveyed the room. His prey was close. Scorpius' attention was drawn to a line of five bookshelves. He gave a vicious smile.
"Samantha? Where are you?"
Scorpius approached the bookshelves, still calling to her.
"Hiding amongst the books are we? Going to make me search for you? Where should I start? Are you under A for Alluring? Perhaps B for Bold?"
When Carter didn't answer, Scorpius went on saying, "Maybe C for Charming? Or even D for...
Carter hid behind the last bookshelf, clutching an iron tipped spear that Daniel was examining from a previous mission. She heard Scorpius walking ever closer.
"...Dangerous?"
Scorpius stalked by the first bookshelf, and not seeing his prey there, he moved on to the next. "How about E for Elegant?"
He moved down to the second bookshelf. "Or F for Feminine?"
The third. "G for Graceful... No?"
The fourth. "Perhaps H for... Hiding?"
With a scream of furious rage, Carter jumped out from behind the final book shelf and jabbed the spear into Scorpius chest, where his heart should be, if he possessed one.
"Try, I for IRON!" Carter crowed.
She doubted that she could kill him, but it was well worth the effort to inflict as much pain on him as she could. Carter had her father to thank for inheriting his stubbornness. It was the only thing that kept her fighting on, even though she was certain that she would eventually lose this battle. It was better to go down fighting.
Carter pushed him up against a table covered with artifacts and research papers, with the spear imbedded firmly in his chest. Scorpius hissed in pain.
"How does that feel!?" Carter shouted.
Scorpius was surprised that he was getting feedback every time that Carter attacked him. Perhaps he should have been more patient and did more a little experimentation before trying the modified Goa'uld memory recall device on her.
Oh well, too late to fix it now.
With a concentrated effort, Scorpius reached up and pulled the spear out of his chest, despite Carter bearing down on it with all of her strength.
Realizing that she would loose in this contest of strength, Carter released the spear as Scorpius removed it. With a hateful growl, Scorpius swung the spear, just missing Carter as she ducked under it. She then tucked down and rolled across the floor and darted behind the examination table, placing it between them. Carter then drew a bronze Egyptian style knife from her belt. Another find by Daniel Jackson during another dig on PY1 459 four weeks ago. It was old, but surprisingly still sharp.
Scorpius snarled as he approached the table. Carter was prepared for him to try to walk through it but he just strode up, grabbing the edge and flipped it over. The large eight foot by six foot wooden table was tossed over like a tiny card table, crashing on top of Carter. She cried as the mass of it came down on her. The sheer weight of it should have broken bones and inflicted severe internal injuries, but amazingly she was mostly unhurt. Obviously, Scorpius wanted to inflict pain on her, but not death.
She was laying on her back with the table on top of her. Carter was trying to crawl out from underneath it when Scorpius stepped up onto table, adding his weight to it. He continued to walk up the overturned table towards Carter, even as she was desperately trying to get out from under it.
Carter had managed to get her upper body free when Scorpius raised the spear over his head and drove it down through the table, right where Carter's stomach should be.
The blond Major screamed in agony.
"How does that feel?" Scorpius asked coldly. "Really, Samantha, this tit for tat thing is extremely unproductive."
Carter's long howling screams of agony finally faded to whimpers of pain. Scorpius knelt down, with one hand still on the spear. "Tell me about the Stargate! Are there any worlds that I could visit that would reveal more of its secrets? Just tell me that much!"
Carter, her face stretched in twisted agony, gasped in several breaths and hissed out.
"Screw you!"
Not amused, Scorpius twisted the spear once and Carter choked out another scream.
"There is no escape," Scorpius informed her. "You can't die in here, but you will feel pain, or any other sort of punishment that I can dream up. Want to experience the sensation of having your flesh being boiled away by lava or dissolved by acid? Or I can forego the physical for pure mental torture. How about if I make you relive the moment that I killed your little friend with your own weapon, again, again and again."
"Go to hell!" Carter snarled.
Scorpius didn't look pleased at Carter's unwavering defiance. "No, my dear. Like I said, I can't, but you certainly can."
Carter screamed again as Scorpius jerked the spear out from her body and table. With a inhuman growl, he raised the spear up before plunging it downward again.
It struck only the floor.
Samantha Carter was gone.
Scorpius looked about, startled.
That wasn't possible. He couldn't even sense her anymore. It was if someone pulled her away at the last second.
Something was afoot and Scorpius did not like in being outfoxed.
