O'Neill Interrupted – an interlude. Part 4
The rain had just started when Jack stood up, groaning at his own inability to just lie there and die as he had intended. Maybe if there hadn't been an annoying drip running down his cheek and into the soil beneath him he would have managed it, but there was a certain indignity to dying in a puddle of mud.
He threw a furious glare at the direction he assumed Daniel was watching from and imagined him smirking in a very unascended fashion.
It wasn't five minutes before the ruins came into view. Of course, Daniel couldn't have told him how close to shelter he had been – no. It would have contravened his glowy employment contract, had him drummed out of the Union of Intergalactic Ascended Know-it-alls. Jack sniggered at the thought as he reeled through the entrance of some large crumbling stone building. He didn't bother looking around – he couldn't have cared less if there had been a convention of Goa'uld System Lords going on inside.
He stumbled into the warm darkness.
And fell down.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
The steady drumming of rain on the roof finally roused Jack from his stupor. He blinked several times, remembering his conversation with Daniel with a half embarrassed surprise. Hallucinating dead teammates whilst on the brink of death was something he seemed to be making a habit of.
He sighed deeply. Even putting up with Daniel's smug Ascendedness was better than being alone. Thinking back on the conversation Jack was slightly annoyed Daniel hadn't seen fit to offer him the same deal as last time. Maybe you didn't get a second chance to ascend. He smiled cynically. Must be a once in a lifetime offer.
His head was clear, the fever he realised was the reason for his present predicament appearing to have abated for the time being. But he was experienced enough in these matters to know it was only a matter of time before it came back, worse than ever.
He'd had another weird-ass dream, a particularly strange one of Daniel looking like Friar Tuck. He had been with Jonas, Carter, and for some reason, Dixon. It had all passed in a blur, with just flashes of scenes - the pyramid on Abydos, Jaffa, and brief moments of battle, like a video tape on fast forward.
But there was one thing Jack did remember clearly. Just before he woke up, Jack had felt a soul-searing grief.
He titled his head sideways, wincing at the stiffness in his neck, and looked around.
The door he must have entered by was on his left. Through it he glimpsed dripping bushes and not much else. He twisted around and found the other side of the room opposite the door even less exciting – all he saw was a featureless wall.
At least he was dry.
He raised himself on his elbows to look straight ahead and gave a loud and heartfelt curse.
"Well, crap!"
The third wall was only four feet from his muddy toes. And there, sticking out from said wall was one of those Ancient head sucky thingies.
"Daniel!" Jack gave as loud a shout as he was capable of – not very loud, he knew, but he hoped his tone would convey what volume did not.
He was not amused.
"Don't you try and tell me you have nothing to do with this!"
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on the point of view, his oh so clever glow boy friend refused to answer.
Jack flopped back down, wishing he had a pillow to rest his head on and gave serious thought to his situation.
The ship was probably of Furling or Ancient origin or something, given that this was, from what Maybourne had told him, an alien utopia set up by the Furlings amongst others. There was that whole superior races thing they had going – Nox, Asgard, Furlings, and Ancients. He'd take bets one of them was responsible for the craft, and he couldn't see it being Asgard or Nox – not their style. The ship didn't look too broken – just a little weathered. All he needed was to work out how to turn it on.
Ancient or Furling ship.
Ancient headsucky thingy.
Even in his current state of somewhat less than sound mind Jack could see where this was leading.
Hell, the damn thing wasn't even trying to hide behind a panel. It stuck out and virtually waved a hello at him.
He weighed the cons against the obvious pros. His leg would still be infected. He would go totally wacko within a few days. He would die unless he got the download removed. All of the above were a given. But there was at least a possibility of finding help if he got the ship working.
The question was – was he bloody-minded enough to not go along with the very obvious solution that had been handed to him on a plate?
Shit – he knew the answer to that.
Nope.
Jack rolled, put his hands on the floor and did a creditable push-up, managing to rise to his knees on the first attempt. He didn't bother trying to stand; sure his leg wouldn't hold him. Instead he shuffled forward on his knees until he reached the wall, and then, grasping an edge of the rather flowery looking protuberance that surrounded the device, he pulled himself up until his face was level with its center.
He stared into the hole. A chill ran up his spine and leaving him feeling like a kid playing hide and seek and waiting to be found.
"Well, come on. . . "
He didn't have time to complete the sentence. Big metal claws reached out and grabbed his head, gripping him tightly and pressing into the back of his neck. Even though he had expected it, Jack couldn't help struggling, pulling himself fruitlessly backwards. As lights exploded against his eyeballs the fleeting thought passed through his mind that he had completely forgotten how much the damn thing hurt!
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Stiff. Sore. Hurting.
And feeling very sorry for himself.
What a wonderful idea that was.
How many hours he had been unconscious Jack had no idea, but if the pain in his body was anything to go by it was probably many, many, many, many. . .
Oy!
Oddly enough, his head felt clearer than it had in a while – almost as if the fever had gone. Which was strange, as an inspection of his leg showed it to be worse than ever. He put a hand on the wound, feeling the heat emanating from it, and sighed. It looked like nothing much had changed except he had added a pounding headache to his long list of woes. A wave of tiredness washed over him, and he shut his eyes, gritting his teeth and willing it to leave. There wasn't much time left and he wasn't going to spend it sitting here. He was going to find the ship again, see if he could get it going, and fly it back to Harry. He was damned if he was going to die alone.
He pushed himself over to rest his back against the wall near the door, and looked out at the steady rain. Trees were nothing but vague shapes looming out of the mist that rose from the sodden ground. The leaves of the nearby bushes glistened with moisture, making them appear an almost glossy black.
It wasn't sensible to leave shelter yet, despite his desire to get moving. He would have to wait until the rain eased.
Jack straightened his back and pressed in into the cold stone wall, shutting his eyes again, and listened to the drip of water. The hypnotic noise drummed in time with the movement of his right hand as he rhythmically kneaded his leg, his long fingers flexing in the flesh around the wound. Then his hands stopped moved, just resting lightly on the overheated skin.
It was several minutes before Jack came back to himself, his eyes losing their unfocused look. He shook his head slightly, as if waking from an unexpected nap, and looked down at his leg.
He wasn't surprised at what he saw. One part of his brain – the part that had taken over as he rested – was expecting it. He stared at his healed leg, his complacence mingling strangely in his mind with just a little awe. He turned his head, cocking it a little to the side, and watched as the rain stopped.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
It took Jack less than an hour to make his way unerringly back to the spacecraft. His discarded crutch lay to one side of the door, along with his pack and P-90, and he stooped to pick them up before he pressed his palm to the access panel. There was a dull whirling noise and the hatch opened, narrow beams of sunlight illuminating the interior. Jack stepped inside and with a wave of his hand on the controls activated the lights. A trail of buzzes and flashes followed his progress across the metal floor as he headed to the front of the craft, the ship coming alive around him.
A puff of dust rose from the soft fabric of the pilot's seat as his weight settled on it. Jack pushed a button and the shutters retracted from the front window letting in even more daylight. Dust motes floated upwards as sun shone, lighting up the whole craft.
Jack shut his eyes, concentrating on what he needed to know and what he needed to do. Various readouts flashed across screens as systems long dead came back to life, the ship's own internal checklist beginning the minor repairs needed after so long inactive.
Several hours passed with Jack motionless except for the occasional wince of pain. Once and only once did he move – to reach a hand up and rub the bridge of his nose, before stilling again.
It finally happened without fanfare, without the loud hum of engines or the sound of metal straining. It happened effortlessly, and in silence.
The craft rose from the forest floor, hovered above the trees for a moment, then spun to face the opposite direction, and was off.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Jack stepped through the stargate onto the Alpha site, fully expecting to have several weapons pointed at him. He half raised his hands in surrender before putting them down and reaching for the P-90 slung around his neck.
Walking forward cautiously, he scanned his surroundings. Everything he could see had an air of disuse about it, as if the buildings had been long abandoned. Here and there pieces of equipment lay discarded, but the overall impression was one of an orderly exit.
He pushed open the door to what had been the main command center, hoping for some clue as to what had happened. He was disappointed – the interior was completely bare, without even a scrap of paper on the floor.
Disappointment left a bitter taste in the Colonel's mouth. The trip to the planet that started the whole fiasco had been short. He had known it was stupid to expect an SGC presence still to be on the site, but he had been optimistic nonetheless. Finding nothing there, he left the Ancient spaceship concealed near the gate and dialed the Alpha site, hoping for a quick stop-over before being escorted with all due pomp and circumstance, home to Earth.
This desolate place wasn't what he expected at all.
What had happened to cause the SGC, Tok'ra and free Jaffa to pull out? Deciding to check some of the other buildings, Jack took two steps towards the open door, before dropping and crouching behind the meagre protection offered by the flimsy metal walls.
'What the f…!' Jack didn't bother completing the thought. The one glimpse he caught of the huge, black armoured monster heading straight for him was enough to tell him this wasn't someone he wanted to get up close and personal with. The thing was at least seven foot tall and looked like it could take Teal'c in a fight with one arm tied behind its back.
Jack cautiously peered around the corner of the door frame, just in time to see the creature extend its right arm outwards. A beam of light shot towards him and the hut exploded.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
TBC