Disclaimer: I do not own Replicators, Burt Gummer, or any other Stargate Sg-1 and Tremors: the Series characters or devices. I do not own Aximilli Esgarrouth Isthill, or the 867-5309 song either
FYI: This is my first fanfic on this site
BR
"Do you have the survivor?" asked a man with a thick Russian accent. "The replicator is with an agent in California." Replied another man with no accent. "I told you not to call it the replicator! Who knows who could be listening?"
American: "We're in the middle of the ocean. No one is going to overhear about the replicator that survived the attack on your sub."
Russian: "There could be microphones on the boat!"
American: "You're paranoid."
Russian: "That's my job, now can we talk about the survivor!"
American: "I'll send it on a direct flight to Moscow from California ASAP."
Russian: "Good. Now this meeting is over."
"Cargo Plane, California to Moscow, You are cleared for take off."
"Roger, Control Tower, Commencing take off" Point of view moves to cargo hold. Electronic whirring is heard in addition to the engines.
47 Minutes 33 Seconds later.
(Pilot singing)"867-5309, 867-53..." The pilot notices the electronic whirring. The pilot turns around "What the hell?" A small hole, dripping acid is apparent in the wall behind his seat. All of the sudden, a mechanical spider crawls out the opening, followed by another, and another, and another. The pilot grabs a gun in his pocket and shoots at one of the replicators. The pieces blow every which direction and the robots immediately turn toward the pilot and attack. The pieces reassemble themselves and the replicator leaps upon the pilot. The pilot fires five more shots, but finds he's out of ammo. The replicators jump on him. The pilot thrashes around and knocks the controls askew. The plane nosedives down toward a patch of ground northeast of a bunker surrounded by an electric chain link fence. The scene changes to outside the craft and screaming is heard. Blood splatters the airplane window.