A/N: This is my first SG fic ever. I came home from the A.P. exam from hell and it was just screaming to come out. AU, because the only thing I ever remember them saying about SG-10 was they were the team that got sucked into the black hole. Obviously, this SG-10 is not that team. I'm thinking that they were probably the 'lost' team's replacements. Also, if SG-10 was investigating a black hole, I doubt they were a black ops unit. This SG-10 changed functions about the same time they were replacing the old team. Yes, Manda, Dionne Warwick is the psychic lady with the friends. Also, slight spoiler for Atlantis episode "38 Minutes." Slight as in, if you haven't seen it, you won't notice the spoiler.
This is unbetaed so I'm fairly certain all the characters you know and love are gonna by OOC. Tell me. I really want to get this right, so if my Jack does something stupid, tell me. Or if you don't like something. Or anything. Since I'm new at this I want you guys to help. Just be polite about it. Several people have given me ideas, so I've reworked it and am reuploading it. It's basically the same, but it's set up the way it is on my LJ. That means don't freak about it having more chapters, it's just the same chapters in smaller pieces.
On a totally unrelated matter, aren't all fanfics AUs? I mean, if we had to write them, it obviously didn't happen on the show and as such isn't canon.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate. Gekko does. (That always makes me think of the little lizard with the British accent.) Some other people own it as well. They are all much richer. The basic ideas for this fic came from Danvers and Anais. Read the SG-15 stuff and Dr. Jackson's Diary. They are hilarious. Somebody warned me so I decided to put a blanket thing on all my stories (het, slash, gen,) Please, bring an open mind. Remember, everyone's life is not the same.
According to Dr. Fraiser, I'd be fine. I still couldn't breathe, though. And I was once again looking for my 2IC. General Hammond had given us the go ahead to lock down the Mountain and I was extremely thankful for that. It's hard enough to find her when she doesn't know she's being looked for; now, we had an even less chance of finding that damned needle. Why the hell did somebody put the stupid thing in the haystack, in the first place?
"Section C-3 clear." A voice said into the radio breaking me out of my ranting. I couldn't figure out to whom the voice belonged. We had the non-psychic members of SG-10, most of SG-3, Col. O'Neill, Teal'c, several scientists, about half the SFs, and the Russian team all looking for Sarge. We'd been looking for about an hour and hadn't had any luck yet. One of the scientists from Area 51 swore his files on his computer had been rearranged, but the colonels and I had decided that was B.S. Why would Alien screw with a greasy chemist from Area 51?
Suddenly, I heard three short bursts of static come across the radio. It was the signal that either Med. Bliss or Pvt. Harrison had found something, but couldn't say anything yet.
"Sir, it' Harrison. I foun' her. Archaeo. Lab 13. I don' have the leas' bit o' clue wha' she's doin,' but I don' like the looks." I groaned inwardly at him. The foreigners speak it, Sarge speaks it, the aliens speak it. Why can't Harrison learn to speak English?
"Bliss."
"On my way."
SG10SG10SG10SG10
Archaeology Laboratory Thirteen was the primary laboratory for translations. Because of this, it had four different entrance points. We had set up a basic perimeter. Bliss at the door to her left; Harrison at the door to her right; I was at the door behind her. I gave the signal and using every ounce of our black op stealth, SG-10 crept into the room.
Unfortunately, we had forgotten a very important thing. Not that Sarge was an intelligence officer, that's why she had uncharacteristically run off. Not that Sarge was perfectly capable of killing us with her bare hands, that's why we were sneaking up on her. Not that Sarge was on our team, that's why it was us who were doing the sneaking. We forgot what we did.
In a blink of an eye, Sarge had rolled over the desk and pulled out a zat. Before I registered what was happening, she had shot all three of us. At least, she had the decency to shake her head sadly before picking a couple of books up off the table and walking out the door. Leaving me there to ponder why I had forgotten we were black ops.
Please, remember: any criticism should be constructive.
