Nine
/ P3X-796 – INSIDE THE SECTOR POST /
Shields flowed around him. Weapons powered. And Colonel Jack O'Neill was having none of it! He pulled his hands back from the chair arms and leapt from the chair. "Whoah!"
When he moved with such force and speed, Koraes flinched visibly. "What is wrong, O'Neill?" She asked, her voice worried.
His head whipped around, brown eyes fixing on her. "What are you, kidding?" He shot back incredulously. "This is the same stuff that . . ." Her look of non-comprehension stopped him cold. She would not have known about his previous encounter with the Ancients' technology. And she would not have known that these encounters had given him a healthy apprehension about utilizing said technology. He swallowed and straightened his posture.
"Nothing." He lied, badly. "I just didn't expect it to be so . . . real in there."
The truth was it scared him for a couple of reasons. The first was that he remembered his last encounter with this species' technology. It had slowly taken over his mind; and only the Asgard had stood between him and death, removing the Ancients' Repository from his mind and returning him to Earth. That was not something he cared to repeat . . . ever.
And the second thing that scared him about it was how familiar it felt. When he'd held the Repository in his mind, it had simply felt as though he were drowning in someone else's memories. This time, it had felt as though two minds were blending, merging in a way. And what scared him about that was that it had felt somehow natural, as though he'd done it before. But he hadn't. And now was so not the time to start.
But he couldn't really tell this girl that. She would never understand his fear of her technology. She didn't now. She was watching him as though he'd grown a second head.
"Your technology is not so?" She asked, puzzled by his words. How could he exist in a world where the technology was so . . . flat?
"Hell no." He answered, slowly and cautiously retaking his seat but not putting his hands anywhere near those silvered plates. The damned station could raise its own damned weapons.
"Then how do you command it?" She asked.
He started to answer her then stopped and frowned. "Hey, shouldn't someone be prepping weapons or something?"
"That is what you were doing." She reminded him gently. Had something gone wrong? Had Ssendrriya's interfaces functioned improperly with his Human physiology and hurt him?
Ssendrriya's voice came over the hidden speakers. "What you have called Jaffa have reached the Perimeter Defenses. Orders?"
Orders? She was treating him as though he were in command here? O'Neill blinked and thought about it for a moment. "Ssendrriya, can we hold them off?" He asked after a second.
"Yes." Came her immediate response. "Not indefinitely, but for some time."
O'Neill hated vagaries. "How long can you hold them off . . . exactly?" He pressed.
Ssendrriya did some calculations based on the weapons the Jaffa were carrying and the number of Jaffa and the station's defenses. "Barring intervention on either side, one Maintenance Cycle." She answered calmly.
Great, she was answering his question but not in any terms that meant anything to him. His frown deepened. "And what is that in Earth years?" His voice held a note of the testiness he felt.
"Converting." She told him and fell silent. On the screens above his head, the Jaffa were spreading out to surround the facility, testing its defenses all the way. Another second, and she spoke again. "One Maintenance Cycle is five hundred of your years." She said as though that was a short time.
At first, O'Neill said nothing. He just blinked at her. "Wait, you mean to tell me that if no one comes to help you and no one comes to help them, you could withstand their weapons for five hundred years?" Again, the incredulity was in his tones.
"Correct." Ssendrriya answered proudly. "However, they do appear to have help."
O'Neill groaned. Of course they did. Where there was an army of Jaffa, there was usually a Mothership lately . . . at least. "How many?"
"I sense only one." Ssendrriya answered, sounding slightly distracted. "However, there is another ship also in orbit of this planet. It has some form of Scanner fooling device; however, as I cannot gather a clean reading on it."
Great! Just great! Stuck on some alien planet, under attack by Jaffa, and some ship in orbit that even the Ancients' technology can't identify. Just . . . perfect!
"All right, then let's make sure we can defend ourselves if they get through the station's defenses." His eyes fixed on Koraes again. "Does this station have hand weapons?" He was now in Military Mode, strategies and tactics flickering through his mind as he moved, standing from his chair and heading for the door with a wave for her to follow him.
Koraes did not argue. She stood and followed, almost having to run to keep up with him. They were of equal height, but he'd had a small lead, the Tactical Display he'd been seated at being nearer the doors.
She answered his question on the move. "Yes, several types. What exactly are you seeking?"
"Anything that'll take down those Jaffa."
Koraes considered his answer and found it not really much of an answer. Still, she tried to sound sure. "The Variating Pulse Rifles would likely do." She suggested.
O'Neill blinked and watched her out of the corner of his eye as they moved through the halls. "Where are they?"
Koraes took the lead and ran through the corridors toward the Armory on the Command Level. When she reached it, she looked up. "Ssendrriya, open Command Armory One."
There was no answer for a second; then the doors before them slid open. Beyond them were shelf upon shelf of weapons O'Neill could not even begin to identify. His eyes widened, and he looked like a child in a candy shop.
"Holy . . .!" He grinned. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" He looked at the shelves and then at the girl beside him. And in that moment, something seemed to shift in him. His face set, and his body stiffened. She could not even guess at what he was thinking, but he moved into the Armory with purpose. "Tell me about these weapons." He instructed.