P4X-639

The two skimmers made their way across the harsh desert at high speed, the one driven by Rommie taking the lead while Tyr's followed.

Rommie checked her internal navigational system, "It should be another 5 km to the Ang Tae."

"Good." O'Neill said from the passengers seat, "How long will it take to set up the Mass Driver?"

"Setting up the Mass Driver takes a matter of seconds: you flip a switch and the protective cocoon that covers it opens-up, then it rises up on a turret." Rommie explained, Carter and Jacob leaning forward from the back seat to listen, "But getting it into position without being detected will take a while. The photo-reactive armour lets it blend in with the surroundings, but at high speed it tends to blur, and the engine does make a bit of a racket, so we'll have to creep into a firing position. That'll take a while."

A small computer screen on the skimmers dashboard lit up.

"That's not good." Rommie said, scanning the sky, "We have in-coming aerial contacts: probably Death Gliders from the base."

"Rommie." Dylan's voice came over the radio, "You see what we see?"

"I see them Dylan." Rommie responded, "We better head away from the Ang Tae and try and lose them in the canyons."

"Whoa there!" O'Neill raised a hand in objection, "Who says they've seen us?"

A pair of Death Gliders passed directly over head, then banked round to make a second run."

"Ok." O'Neill admitted. "I think they've seen us."

"We better spit up." Dylan suggested, the other skimmer already pulling away to the right, "It'll better our chances of escaping. Good luck." The final message ended just as the two craft entered different prances of a large canyon system.

"You wanted to drive this thing Colonel." Rommie said as she stood up on her seat, "Well now's your chance."

O'Neill managed to grab the wheel in time to stop a collision as Rommie pulled herself over the role-bar that separated the front and the back of the skimmer. She turned around and grabbed the controls to a heavy Gauss canon that was mounted on a circular track built into the roll-cage.

The Death Glider started it's first strafing run, pulverizing rock outcroppings as its pilot tried to follow the skimmers maniacal cores, O'Neill set as he drove along the canyon. Rommie returned fire, but the same erratic movements that stopped the Death Glider from scoring any direct hits also made her own task difficult.

This is not to say impossible.

Rounds from the Gauss cannon slammed into the Death Glider at hypersonic speeds, shattering the armour and found their way into the avionics that controlled the complicated machine. The left wing-strut snapped in two, folding in two. Suddenly finding itself with out its normal lift surfaces, the Goa'uld craft turned upside down and crashed into the cliff face at the side of the canyon.

Before the others could congratulate her, the two main branches of the canyon re-converged. The other skimmer caught the one O'Neill was driving just behind the passenger doors, turning it into a skid-turn. Out of control, the craft slammed into a low ravine, and flipped over, rolling towards a deep ravine. O'Neill felt something in his left arm give as he was thrown from the out of control transport, and blacked out a split second before he hit the ground.

Then Tyr was able to regain control of his skimmer, but the delay cost them: a stream of bolts from the attacking Death Glider send the transport end-over-end, before it came to a smoking rest against the canyon wall.

With nothing to stop it, the first craft continued to roll over and over before disappearing into the canyon. A tremendous explosion rocked the area as the fuel cell detonated on impact with the ground some 100-meters below, sending a cloud of smoke skywards.

The pain woke O'Neill; his entire left arm felt like it was on fire. He moved his right arm across his chest to check for damages, but it came into contact with his bruised ribs instead.

Opening his eyes to the harsh light of the desert, he looked down: his left arm ended in a bloody stump just above where the elbow had been, his uniform ripped into ragged strips, plasters against his side.

Movement out of the corner of his eye showed him where Tyr had gotten to his feet and was trying to fight off a squad of Jaffa with only his knife. He slashed out, digging a deep wound across the belly of one of his attackers, but another used the opportunity to slam the butt of his Staff Weapon into the back of the Nietzscheans head, knocking him out.

A shadow fell across O'Neill's head, "Well, well, well: Colonel O'Neill. This is an unexpected surprise."

O'Neill blinked, "Osiris."

The Goa'uld smiled, "Yes. And I plan to make what remains of your life very painful." She turned to her First Prime, "How many prisoners?"

"Seven my lord." The senior Jaffa came to attention, "Four wear the mark of the Tau'ri. One is the Tok'ra known as Selmak. The other two bare a mark I do not recognize."

"The High Guard?" Osiris stood over Dylan's still form, "So the Systems Commonwealth is flexing its muscles? No matter: they will fall before Lord Anubis. His time is now." She turned away, "Bring them."

50-meters down the side of the cliff, Rommie lay on an outcropping, off-line.

To Be Continued…