Section 27: Snakehead
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D'argo screamed. He choked it off as best he could but the pain in the tonka that covered his neck was almost unbearable. The sensitive appendage burned like white-hot fire, worse than any torture he'd ever endured. And through it he could feel something moving, scrabbling at his neck as it wriggled through the hole it had made. Frantically, D'argo grabbed at the worm, trying to stop it from clawing open his head. It was persistent but unmotivated by a pain so great that D'argo fought the black spots from taking his consciousness. He could feel blood dripping down his back. And the thing still clawed at him.
D'argo didn't think. He only felt fire and teeth, his arms trying to extract the creature stuck halfway through his tonka, and the growing weakness in his muscles as the toxins released when his coagulated blood hit the air recirculated into his body. He didn't think about how long he had until his body gave out, or what would happen if the creature entered his head. It hurt too much, like live current rushing through him. He barely realized it when his legs gave way and he crashed to the ground. Or when driven by instinct he started to bang his head against the ground to stimulate the blood flow so it wouldn't poison him. It wasn't long until he knocked himself unconscious. At the back of his neck, a blue tail wiggled.
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Jack looked at his watch. A mere minute had passed since the last time he had looked. "It's been three hours," he murmured to Teal'c who sat beside him near the door. "We should have heard something by now."
"The Goa'uld can be very patient, O'Neill," Teal'c replied. "And we have no other choice but to wait. As distasteful as it is."
"I just wish we knew what was happening with D'argo. I mean, it's not like the snakeheads to not brag about it."
"But he is of an unknown race," said Teal'c. "Her usual methods of torture may not be as effective, though John Crichton did indicate that he would not be immune to them. She may be healing him in the sarcophagus."
"Gaaa," Jack sighed, tilting his head back against the wall. "What is it with them and those damn sarcophaguses?"
"They are the Goa'uld, O'Neill," Teal'c simply said with a sideways look at his friend. Jack closed his eyes. It summed them up pretty well. All he wanted right now was to get out of there.
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D'argo woke up with a lurch, a massive migraine competing with the burning pain in his tonka and neck. The gold ceiling above him didn't look right and it took him a few microts to remember that the bright vault belonged to a woman. Slowly and carefully, he sat up, ignoring the pain , and looked around. The woman was dead. He remembered now. Something in his neck trying to get into his head.
He cautiously raised his hand to the mass of throbbing pain and jerked back when it met unfamiliar flesh. Gingerly he touched it again. It didn't move. Sighing with relief, D'argo explored it more carefully. The thing was stuck in his tonka, the head limply knocking against the bloody patch it had carved into his neck. With evil delight, D'argo blessed both his thick skin and toxic blood. And greatly appreciated the head banging that had finished the job.
Of course, if he couldn't find a way out without bringing the guards down upon himself, it would have all been for nothing. That was assuming he'd be able to stand. With no other choice but to try, D'argo pulled his feet under him and levered himself up. The pounding in his head doubled and a wave of dizziness swept over him. Gritting his teeth he rode it out, then slowly, painfully, shuffled toward the side door where the girls had disappeared to earlier. One foot in front of the other, that's all it took.
D'argo thought he was going to fall down again when he finally made it. With a thud he leaned against the wall and glared at the door that had no obvious control to open it. Now what? Part of him knew he had to do something, the other part was too exhausted to either think or care. All he wanted to do was sleep.
Catching himself before it was too late, D'argo shook off his stupor. No! He had to get out of there. Find the others. With a strangled cry, he banged his fist on the door. Immediately it opened revealing the wide-eyed stares of ten girls too bewildered and scared to move.
"You!" D'argo barked at the one in front. "You will take me to the prisoners or I will kill you!" The girl jerked her head back and forth and backed away. Growling, D'argo pushed the pain away stalked forward. "Your mistress is dead. I am in charge now," he said low and threatening. "If you do as I say, you will live to see another day. If not . . ." he reached forward to grab her, and she quickly nodded. "You and you," he pointed out two more girls. "Come with us." Too terrified to speak, the girls led him out into the hall.
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"What time is it?" asked John. Sam looked at her watch for the zillionth time in so many minutes.
"Six thirty-three. It's been almost four and a half hours."
"John . . ." Sam trailed off, worry etched over her features. She didn't know what she was going to say. Offering comfort now seemed like an empty gesture.
"He could still be alive," said John. Aeryn looked up at him then back at a spot on the floor, her unreadable mask unchanged.
"Yeah," was all Sam said mustering a smile that wasn't returned. They lapsed back into silence.
"Hey!" The Colonel sat up suddenly. Both he and Teal'c shuffled quickly to their feet. Sam felt her heart speed up as she too rose. A quick glance at the others found them also watching the door intently.
Soon it opened. One of Nit's young women stood in the doorway, and behind her was D'argo leaning on two others, stained brown and looking like he'd just fought a mountain lion.
"D'argo!" Both Aeryn and John rushed forward to their friend with Jack and Teal'c.
The warrior smiled weakly at them. "Always needing rescuing," he said before passing out on the floor.
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D'argo screamed. He choked it off as best he could but the pain in the tonka that covered his neck was almost unbearable. The sensitive appendage burned like white-hot fire, worse than any torture he'd ever endured. And through it he could feel something moving, scrabbling at his neck as it wriggled through the hole it had made. Frantically, D'argo grabbed at the worm, trying to stop it from clawing open his head. It was persistent but unmotivated by a pain so great that D'argo fought the black spots from taking his consciousness. He could feel blood dripping down his back. And the thing still clawed at him.
D'argo didn't think. He only felt fire and teeth, his arms trying to extract the creature stuck halfway through his tonka, and the growing weakness in his muscles as the toxins released when his coagulated blood hit the air recirculated into his body. He didn't think about how long he had until his body gave out, or what would happen if the creature entered his head. It hurt too much, like live current rushing through him. He barely realized it when his legs gave way and he crashed to the ground. Or when driven by instinct he started to bang his head against the ground to stimulate the blood flow so it wouldn't poison him. It wasn't long until he knocked himself unconscious. At the back of his neck, a blue tail wiggled.
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Jack looked at his watch. A mere minute had passed since the last time he had looked. "It's been three hours," he murmured to Teal'c who sat beside him near the door. "We should have heard something by now."
"The Goa'uld can be very patient, O'Neill," Teal'c replied. "And we have no other choice but to wait. As distasteful as it is."
"I just wish we knew what was happening with D'argo. I mean, it's not like the snakeheads to not brag about it."
"But he is of an unknown race," said Teal'c. "Her usual methods of torture may not be as effective, though John Crichton did indicate that he would not be immune to them. She may be healing him in the sarcophagus."
"Gaaa," Jack sighed, tilting his head back against the wall. "What is it with them and those damn sarcophaguses?"
"They are the Goa'uld, O'Neill," Teal'c simply said with a sideways look at his friend. Jack closed his eyes. It summed them up pretty well. All he wanted right now was to get out of there.
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D'argo woke up with a lurch, a massive migraine competing with the burning pain in his tonka and neck. The gold ceiling above him didn't look right and it took him a few microts to remember that the bright vault belonged to a woman. Slowly and carefully, he sat up, ignoring the pain , and looked around. The woman was dead. He remembered now. Something in his neck trying to get into his head.
He cautiously raised his hand to the mass of throbbing pain and jerked back when it met unfamiliar flesh. Gingerly he touched it again. It didn't move. Sighing with relief, D'argo explored it more carefully. The thing was stuck in his tonka, the head limply knocking against the bloody patch it had carved into his neck. With evil delight, D'argo blessed both his thick skin and toxic blood. And greatly appreciated the head banging that had finished the job.
Of course, if he couldn't find a way out without bringing the guards down upon himself, it would have all been for nothing. That was assuming he'd be able to stand. With no other choice but to try, D'argo pulled his feet under him and levered himself up. The pounding in his head doubled and a wave of dizziness swept over him. Gritting his teeth he rode it out, then slowly, painfully, shuffled toward the side door where the girls had disappeared to earlier. One foot in front of the other, that's all it took.
D'argo thought he was going to fall down again when he finally made it. With a thud he leaned against the wall and glared at the door that had no obvious control to open it. Now what? Part of him knew he had to do something, the other part was too exhausted to either think or care. All he wanted to do was sleep.
Catching himself before it was too late, D'argo shook off his stupor. No! He had to get out of there. Find the others. With a strangled cry, he banged his fist on the door. Immediately it opened revealing the wide-eyed stares of ten girls too bewildered and scared to move.
"You!" D'argo barked at the one in front. "You will take me to the prisoners or I will kill you!" The girl jerked her head back and forth and backed away. Growling, D'argo pushed the pain away stalked forward. "Your mistress is dead. I am in charge now," he said low and threatening. "If you do as I say, you will live to see another day. If not . . ." he reached forward to grab her, and she quickly nodded. "You and you," he pointed out two more girls. "Come with us." Too terrified to speak, the girls led him out into the hall.
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"What time is it?" asked John. Sam looked at her watch for the zillionth time in so many minutes.
"Six thirty-three. It's been almost four and a half hours."
"John . . ." Sam trailed off, worry etched over her features. She didn't know what she was going to say. Offering comfort now seemed like an empty gesture.
"He could still be alive," said John. Aeryn looked up at him then back at a spot on the floor, her unreadable mask unchanged.
"Yeah," was all Sam said mustering a smile that wasn't returned. They lapsed back into silence.
"Hey!" The Colonel sat up suddenly. Both he and Teal'c shuffled quickly to their feet. Sam felt her heart speed up as she too rose. A quick glance at the others found them also watching the door intently.
Soon it opened. One of Nit's young women stood in the doorway, and behind her was D'argo leaning on two others, stained brown and looking like he'd just fought a mountain lion.
"D'argo!" Both Aeryn and John rushed forward to their friend with Jack and Teal'c.
The warrior smiled weakly at them. "Always needing rescuing," he said before passing out on the floor.
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