The Dark Ones

Darkling Rising

Part One

For the fifth night in a row General Jack O'Neill found himself sitting up in bed. He ran his hands through his short, graying hair with a deep sigh, because once again the contents of the dream had faded before his eyes had even had a chance to fully open. It was unnerving, not being able to remember what caused him to awaken so prematurely. He knew it shouldn't, it was just a dream, and dreams didn't bother someone like Jack. After being leader of SG-1 for nine years and General and Commander of the SGC for nearly twenty years a dream should have been easily dismissed.

So why wasn't it?

He felt like something was wrong. He didn't know why or how, but he felt it. Everything seemed fine here. His wife lay sleeping peacefully beside him, completely unaware of Jack's discomfort. They had been together for almost as long as he had been General. In truth they should probably not have ever gotten married, but he was glad they had taken a chance. Even before they had officially dated she had been a great source of support and insight. However, no matter how much he wanted to wake her and discuss this new dilemma, he didn't want to bother her.

He rose as quiet as he could so not to disturb her rest and made his way to the door. He gave one more look back, just to make sure everything was indeed fine there, and then he entered the hallway. The rest of the house was still. It was silent except for the low buzzing of the heating unit and the occasional pit-pat sound of paws on the hardwood floor. Two sets. Both Travis and Einstein were on the prowl tonight.

He continued down the hallway until he reached a decorated doorway. Signs and stickers littered the front, such as "KITTY'S ROOM" and "WARNING: AIR FORCE BRAT AHEAD." They were just a sample of the clichéd wit of the household teenage girl. Jack had to smile at the last one. His daughter, Katherine, had made that one on her computer and stuck it squarely in the center where she was certain everyone would see it. She seemed to be Jack's biggest fan and made sure everyone knew her daddy was Jack O'Neill.

He turned the knob and peeked inside. The eighteen year old lay bundled in her sheets, her usual mountain of pillows all around her. Her face was illuminated by the lava lamp sitting on the edge of her nightstand. Glow in the dark stars and planets adorned the ceiling above their heads and glittered almost like the real thing. She had bought those to underscore the fact she wanted to be an explorer like her parents. She had been so adamant about traveling to other planets that they had finally broke down and let her spend a couple months with her Grandfather.

She hadn't shut up about it yet.

Satisfied that everything was okay there he shut the door and started down the stairs. As he reached the bottom he noticed something odd. Einstein, the resident border collie, sat in the living room doorway, his black and white tail wagging enthusiastically behind him.

Hell, that was more than odd. It was apparent the dog was looking at something - - or someone, and if his wife and daughter were asleep upstairs, then who was in there?

He moved carefully so he wouldn't alert whoever was there that he was coming. If someone had decided to rob them - - or worse, he had made a lot of enemies - - then they were about to get the biggest surprises of their life. Not to mention a pretty sizable knot on their criminally inclined heads. Yet even as he neared the doorway he knew he wouldn't find any normal intruder. Even Einstein didn't take well to strangers who the family didn't introduce, and where the hell was Travis? He should have been barking his head off by now.

Great watchdogs they are. Jack thought as his hand closed around a broken chair leg leaning against the wall. He had been meaning to fix the chair it belonged to, but had kept putting it off.

He came around the doorway quickly. "Whoever you are, don't move!" He warned. The reply that followed shocked him - -

"Hello, O'Neill. I hope you are not seriously planning on using that."

- - but not as much as the owner of the voice.

The wooden leg clattered to the floor. Jack's voice shook as he addressed their intruder. "Skaara."

This is the beginning of a short story that will prelude a series I am going to write. Its really hard to explain so I'll just leave it at that. I decided that it would be easier to read the short story if I broke it into little scenes or parts. R&R

A.Muse