Author's note: Did anybody else just finish book six? Oye! Well here is my next chapter. Remember to review!
Crumpets Aren't My Style
By Marz
Grasping at Straws
He turned his face away from the light.
"Do you really think that will make any difference?"
The rumbling echoing voice was not the kid's, nor was the expression, but as O'Neill opened his watering eyes to face Ba'al again, he thought he saw some ghost of the kid in the Goa'uld's slightly slouched posture.
"Do you really have to keep asking so many stupid questions?" O'Neill replied.
"Crucio."
When he could stop shaking, O'Neill glared at the creature that wore Harry like an ill fitting suit. He wondered how the Goa'uld was doing that without the stick weapon most of the so called wizards seemed to require.
"You will explain to me the nature of the Ancient Technology hidden in the Southern most continent of Earth. How does it draw power from the Zero Point Module?"
"I thought we went over the dumb question aspect of this conversation."
"Crucio."
Ba'al stopped and O'Neill struggled to come up with some sort of biting comment . But as soon as the Goa'uld lowered his right hand, he raised the left, which bore the ribbon device.
He woke up in the box; white light fading slowly from his eyes. The lid spilt open and swung away. O'Neill knew he would have to leap from the sarcophagus and make a run for it if he was to have any hope at all of escape, but he couldn't get any of his limbs to respond. Two faces appeared above the box; Al'drak and Ral't. They were both rebels from Chulak. O'Neill had even been on a few missions with them. They leaned into the sarcophagus, grabbing his arms and pulling him to his feet.
Their faces were expressionless as they dragged him through the corridors. He had trouble holding up his head and his eyes drifted across the floor. There was a trail of blood spatter on its polished surface. O'Neill wondered if it was his.
Ba'al wasn't in the room when they arrived. The Jaffa didn't seem concerned. They brought O'Neill to a spot on the floor and then pushed him forward. He staggered and tried to lean back, but the gravity panels had already caught him. He slammed into the wall and with great effort managed to roll over onto his back. The Jaffa walked stiffly to the door and stood on either side of it.
The waiting was the worse part. Not because the tension was building or because he was imagining what Ba'al might be planning for him this round. O'Neill hated the waiting because it gave his guilt a chance to eat at him. He knew this was his fault.
General Hammond wouldn't have let things get this bad.
It always seemed to end up this way. Every time he tried to help a kid they ended up worse off then they had been, and nine times out of ten they'd get a snake in their head to boot. He didn't know why it worked out this way. Maybe he was being punished for failing his own son. He was almost relieved when Ba'al walked in, breaking up his train of thought. The Goa'uld came to a stop just a few feet away. Just out of splatter range.
He had changed his robes. They were still the shiny black and gold material he seemed to favor, but they no longer looked five sizes too large. O'Neill wondered who on board had done the alterations. On his left hand Ba'al wore the ribbon device. This close O'Neill could see Ba'al's clenched right hand clearly. The skin was reddened and there were purple lines running up his wrist under the sleeve of his robe. It looked almost as if the Goa'uld had an infection, which wasn't likely since the Goa'uld were immune to just about every disease.
"I have been considering the problem you present," Ba'al began. "You have proved immune to the new methods I have discovered for bending the will of your species. I thought back to our first meeting two years ago. It took me nearly a week to extract even the name of your symbiote."
"It wasn't my symbiote," O'Neill growled.
The Goa'uld continued talking as if he had not heard.
"Days further were wasted attempting to discover your mission. And what did all that time and effort reveal? It appeared that you had breached the security of my most secret base to steal one of my slaves. It made no sense. After you escaped I searched the base, much of which had been destroyed in Lord Yu's attack. I found nothing to explain your presents. No explanation…other than the female."
O'Neill did not like where this was heading.
"Humans are barely capable of rational thought. I suppose I should have come to this conclusion sooner."
O'Neill hadn't heard any command issued, but as if on queue two members of the Prometheus' crew marched in, dragging a third member between them. Captain Vaun was struggling against her crewmates. Her eyes were clear and focused, if a bit wide. She wasn't under the mind control Ba'al was using on everyone else O'Neill had seen so far. She looked up at him, stuck to the wall with blood all over his flight suit.
"Sir?" she asked.
O'Neill didn't know her well. They'd met a few years earlier when he was still doing all the training briefings for the X302 flight crews.
"You will explain how the Ancient technology draws power from the Zero Point Module or you will be responsible for the death of this female."
They were both staring at him. Vaun with startled brown eyes, Ba'al with pitiless green.
"I can't explain it," O'Neill said. "I don't know how it works."
"You use the technology, but you do not know how it works," Ba'al said.
"Hey! I don't know how the Stargate works either. I just press the buttons and it does."
At least it was quick. Between one blink and the next, green light flashed. Vaun was dead.
"There are seventeen other female Tauri aboard this ship. If you have not produced any useful information by the time we run out of them, there are four billion others on the planet's surface to choose from. Perhaps your primitive sense of chivalry will help you over come your memory problem before we run out of those as well."
Ba'al wave his hand and Vaun's crew mates dragged her out. The Goa'uld walked towards the throne like chair on the other side of the room. He turned, gleaming robes sweeping around him.
"Colonel Carter will be next," he announced.
"Bull! She'd still on Earth."
Ba'al smiled and sat. "Perhaps you would like to begin imedeee-"
WHUMP!
Ba'al had missed the seat of his chair by at least half a foot. O'Neill heard the kid's skull crack against the frame. For a moment he looked completely surprised. And for less then half that moment the kid's mouth quirked in what might have been a satisfied smile. Then Ba'al was back, eyes flaring orange.
O'Neill wanted desperately to comment on the Goa'uld lack of coordination, but his sense of self preservation kicked in. It didn't matter terribly much in the end.
Ba'al got back to his feet blank faced. He waved his hand at the table and a bottle sailed across the room, shattering across O'Neill's chest. The broken glass was the least of it.
"And they've agreed to help?" General Briggs asked.
Daniel nodded. He couldn't tell which way Briggs was leaning. The man was incredibly hard to read. Daniel had only met him a hand full of times. Their first meeting stood out most clearly in his mind. It was in his early days at the SGC. Briggs had made some comment to General Hammond about Daniel's then very "un militaristic" hair style.
"Yes sir. They've agreed to help. Lupin believes he can transport at least eight people up to the Prometheus. Apparently he needs visual information on the landing site and we have picture of the inside of that ship to use for targeting. I've spoken with some of the base personnel and SG3 has volunteered."
Briggs was still frowning. "And what do they want in return?"
"They came to this base looking for a missing member of their society, Harry Potter. Lupin has identified him as Ba'al's new host from the message we intercepted. He has agreed to help in exchange for our help in rescuing Harry."
Briggs leaned back in his desk, looking thoughtful. Daniel felt a surge of hope.
"So you gave the intruders classified information and breached security regarding the Goa'uld and a top secret ship?"
The little bubble of hope popped.
"I did, under the circumstances," Daniel replied.
"There are no circumstances under which treason is acceptable."
Daniel felt himself making a fist and took a calming breath.
"As a civilian it may not have occurred to you," Briggs said, "but the men in those cells could be just as dangerous as the Goa'uld in orbit above us."
"With all due respect, we know Ba'al intends to raze the planet. These people haven't asked for anything but the return of one of their own."
"And whatever they claim they need to reach the ship," Briggs put in.
"They didn't ask for anything sir," Daniel said, thinking perhaps he had a comeback. "Lupin says he can leave at any time. The only reason they didn't just come in and snatch Potter is they don't know where he is and were under orders to stay clear of us."
"And you believe that?" Briggs asked, shaking his head slightly.
"This isn't-"
"Lieutenant Bower!" Briggs called.
A very large airman stepped into the Office. General O'Neill's name was still visible on the door as it swung open.
"But-"
"Lieutenant, escort Dr. Jackson back to his office and make sure he stays there until further notice. He is not to leave the base or go near the holding cells again."
"But-"
Briggs picked up a folder and began reading it, as if they had already left.
He was aware of someone touching his forehead. It felt as if they were trying to smooth back his hair, which in its current military cut wasn't really going to go along with it. His jaw was clenched as were his fists. There were low murmuring voices in the background. He groaned. The hand disappeared from his forehead.
"O'Neill, can you hear me?" Teal'c asked.
Funny, he thought Teal'c would have bigger hands.
"Sir?"
Oh, it was Carter. That makes a whole lot more sense. He tried to talk but it was hard to get vowels past clenched teeth.
"Dn't eel o 'd," he ground out.
His brain was starting to function again. Maybe he hadn't been in the sarcophagus this time. You came out of the box feeling like a Gumby action figure that had gone sixty seconds in the microwave, none of this clenching, spasming stuff.
"I believe I heard him say Gumby," Teal'c was saying to Carter over his head.
Slowly he peeled his eyes open. His head had been hurting so badly he hadn't even noticed it was resting in Carter's lap. He looked up at her blearily. Her eyes were red rimmed and she really needed to blow her nose.
"What's goin' on?" he asked, trying to sit up.
There was an agonizing twinge in his back but he made it. He felt a draft and looked down. The front of his flight suit was largely gone. From throat to navel had simply melted away. There were a few other smaller holes in the legs and arms where the acid had splattered. The sarcophagus had repaired his chest for the most part, except all the hair was gone. He hoped all the people looking at him wouldn't think he shaved his chest or something. That would be weird.
Focus.
"Carter, you're supposed to be on earth," O'Neill said after another bleary moment.
"I was beamed up here just after the attacks in the UK. The crew of the Prometheus was compromised and they used the Asgard transport system. I think Ba'al was able to locate me in the base because of the Naquadah in my blood stream. He took the gate too, sir."
"Oh crap."
"Indeed," Teal'c said solemnly.
"We haven't been able to find a way out the cell," Carter said.
"We?"
He looked around. The other prisoners looked back. He saw Bre'tac asleep or unconscious, stretched out on the floor a few feet away. O'Neill was very relieved the old Jaffa wasn't dead. Only a living thing could snore that loudly. There were six other Jaffa and three members of the Prometheus' crew lounging around as well.
"Alright," O'Neill said. "What else have I missed?"
So they told him, the little they knew. All those in the cell had one thing in common. Ba'al's new mind control powers didn't seem to work on them. O'Neill watched the others in the cell as Carter and Teal'c spoke to him. All the other prisoners were watching them. He wondered idly if some of them were plants. None of them looked zoned out, but the crew members on the Prometheus hadn't looked unusual when he and Teal'c had passed through. Maybe Ba'al had instructed them not to look like Zombies.
"Any idea how this mind control thing works?" O'Neill asked.
"He hasn't tried it on you, Sir?" asked Carter.
"He said he tried, but I don't remember it. He's been trying other things on me, to make up for it."
"He holds his hand over the person's head and says 'Imperio'. He came by and tried it on me a few hours ago. There's this incredible sensation, like you're floating and nothing can hurt you. It's very difficult to shake off," Carter said. "He was asking about the Ancients."
O'Neill nodded. It was probably the same thing that Voldemort guy had used on him the first time he was captured. His stomach growled. He wondered how long it had been since he'd last eaten. Thinking of time brought his mind back to Ba'al.
"I need some convincing lies Carter," he said, getting slowly to his feet. His head spun.
"About what?"
"The Ancient's technology, he keeps asking. I told him I didn't know anything and he killed Captain Vaun."
Carter looked appropriately horrified.
"And we probably don't have more then an hour to come up with something convincing."
"So I take it you did not receive the complete support of your superiors in this matter?" Snape said as the pounding on the door increased.
"Feel free to stay behind Severus," said Lupin, deflecting the question.
The sickly looking man sat on the floor, waving a little piece of wood back and forth over one of his sandals.
"You can't honestly believe you'll be able to target that portkey correctly," Snape said, latching on to his new target.
"I've done transcontinental portkeys before," Lupin replied.
"We're talking about hundreds of thousands of miles here Lupin, not just hundreds. The difference may have escaped you. I've read somewhere that dogs can't count any higher then three."
"And I said you did not have to accompany us," Lupin said through gritted teeth. "Now please stop distracting me."
Daniel fought the urge to comment. He wondered how these two had avoided killing each other in the months they had apparently spent staking out the SGC together.
He also fought the urge to sigh. Things really weren't going that well. After Briggs ordered all the SG teams not to listen to him and to report him if he tried to convince them, Daniel had had real trouble recruiting for his unsanctioned rescue mission. He looked over to Sgt. Walter and Sgt. Siler. The Stargate technicians looked very out of place in fatigues and flack jackets, but they were both trained for combat, even if they rarely used their skills.
Snape snorted and walked passed them to lurk in the corner of the crowded brig. There was another thud as the SGC guards tried blow up the door. Daniel saw the metal ripple as the bomb went off, but it was back to normal a moment later. Lupin had pointed his "wand" at the door and muttered something that sounded Latin based but it was not the language of the Ancients. After running into the elf, Daniel had begun to wonder if the wizards were somehow related to the gate builders, but the linguistics were not definitive. On the other hand they seemed to know something about Ascension, at least the "elves" did.
"What exactly is Ascension?" asked a cool voice breaking through his thoughts.
Daniel started, realizing suddenly that Snape was staring into his eyes.
"What?"
"The elf said you 'Ascended'. To what was it referring?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Daniel attempted.
"You do."
"Does this have anything to do with out current situation?" Daniel asked.
"If the North American Wizarding Counsel is going to strike me down because I have some how stumbled across it, I would like to know why. Who is Omah?"
Daniel sighed. "She's a being that…for lack of better terms, has reached enlightenment and Ascended to a higher plane of existence."
Snape sneered. "The elf said you Ascended as well. Does that mean you've also reached enlightenment?"
"Um…well no. I just died," Daniel said.
"So I'm talking to a dead man?" Snape said.
Walter shifted uncomfortably as another explosion shook the room. "Dr. Jackson's died half a dozen times at least."
"And you would have me believe muggles can raise the dead?" Snape said, turning his glare upon the tech sergeant.
Daniel butted back in. "Of course not. Extraterrestrial snakes do."
"You expect me to believe this?" Snape rolled his eyes.
"You expect us to believe a magic shoe is going to get us up to the Prometheus," Siler said, adding his two cents.
"It will," Lupin interrupted. "And it's ready," he added getting to his feet.
"What do we do?" asked Daniel, looking at the shoe suspiciously.
"Everyone put at least on finger on it," Lupin instructed.
The five men leaned in, trying not to poke each other with rifles and other gear strapped to their sides.
"3…2…1…"
It was somewhat like gate travel, except when you stepped through the gate it didn't feel as if someone had just stuck a fish hook through your navel. The feeling of motion stopped so suddenly that Daniel, Siler, and Walter lost their balance and landed in a heap in the mess hall of the Prometheus. They were up in the next instant, zats aimed. Lupin had his wand out as well, searching for guards. There weren't any. Walter hurried over to the wall, opening a panel to expose some cables, and then expertly grafting in his own equipment to tap the sensors and computer logs.
"There are only fifteen other people besides us, all of them human-"
Click…click…click
Four men turned to watch Lupin's wand go bouncing across the floor. He made no move to pick it up.
"What's wrong?" Daniel asked, taking a step towards him.
Lupin shuddered, and bent over, clutching his stomach as if he'd just been kicked. Daniel reached out his hand. Snape grabbed his collar and jerked him backwards.
"We have to leave this room, Now!" Snape ordered.
"Look at his eyes. They're yellow," muttered Daniel.
"What's wrong with his teeth?" Walter asked, leaning towards the man who was beginning to twitch.
"And his hands," said Siler pointing.
"Play red riding hood later you fools!" Snape shouted.
He snatched up the wand off the floor, and growled something almost under his breath. Suddenly Lupin was tossed one way and the SGC personnel the other.
"What are you doing?" asked Daniel.
"I have no desire to be torn apart by a werewolf," Snape said backing out the door with Lupin's wand trained on its owner. "Get out of the room now so I can seal it!"
"Werewolf?" asked Siler. "That's crazy."
Lupin snarling with a fang filled mouth, got to his feet, which preempted further argument. They rushed out into the hall. Snape waved his wand and the metal of the pressure doors melted together into a seamless sheet.
"Is there any other way out of that room?" asked Snape.
"The kitchen and storage rooms are connected to the mess, but this door is the only way into them," said Walter.
"He's really a werewolf?" Siler asked.
Snape rolled his eyes.
"Aren't they only supposed to be able to transform during a full moon?" Siler asked.
Before Snape could answer Walter spoke. "In the Prometheus current position we have a full view of the light side of the Moon, though how that would turn someone into a wolf is beyond me."
Daniel cleared his throat. "We still have a space ship to take over," he pointed out. "I'm sure there will be plenty of time to discuss this later."
The sergeants nodded. As planned, Siler and Walter headed for the engine room. Daniel started for the bridge and after one last look at the mess hall door, Snape followed him.
Carter wiped her face on her sleeve and then pinched her nose again. She didn't think it was broken. Her arm had slowed the staff weapon enough to prevent that at least. The blood was getting everywhere though. Teal'c was stirring on the floor a few feet away. He'd taken a shot from a zat before he could even throw a punch. O'Neill had ordered them not to fight with the guards. She wasn't sorry she'd disobeyed.
She looked around the cell again. The walls were all solid. She couldn't even pry the light fixtures loose. She crawled over to the door and began her search again. There must be something she missed. As she felt along the seams in the metal she heard talking out in the hall and pressed her ear to the door.
"I've hic! been ordered to hic! bring hic! Colonel Carter before our Lord Ba'al."
"We were not informed."
"Well, I'm informing you. I'm all ready to escort her to the pel'tak. See? I even have two zats."
CHING!
Carter jumped back from the door as she heard the weapon activate. There was a shout in the hallway and then two shots from the zat. She waved Teal'c over. It got quiet and Carter pressed her ear to the door again. There was more hiccupping and some faint scratching. The door slid open. A thin middle-aged woman in a jump suit walked in. Her whole body was rattling as hiccup after hiccup escaped her.
"Dr. Novak?" Carter asked.
They'd worked together a few times when Carter was aboard the Prometheus. Novak was probably the last person she expected to come to their rescue. The engineer was famous for erupting into a fit of hiccups when ever she was nervous.
"Hic! You've got to Hic! hurry. I diverted power from the security systems but Hic! it's only a matter of time before somebody else picks it up!" Dr. Novak said.
Cater nodded and accepted the zat that was pushed into her hands. She and Teal'c stepped out of the cell, searching the hallway for threats. The other prisoners stepped out after, searching the unconscious guards for weapons before dragging them into the room. Four zats and two staff weapons between twelve people, it wasn't the ideal set up for taking over a Goa'uld mother ship, but SG1 had done more with less.
"Any idea how many we're up against?" Carter asked Novak, who was trying to keep up with them and hold her breath at the same time.
"The Prometheus had a crew of sixty two Hic! and I don't know how many are on which ship. The Goa'uld brought most of us over to fix this one. He's killed at Hic! least four of our people so far. I don't know how many rebel Jaffa are around here either. I passed at least Hic! twenty on my way down."
"Two hundred and seventy eight of our warriors were brought up to the ship when we first captured it," Bre'tac called in a low voice.
Cater nodded. "Are you the only one who has broken free of Ba'al's control?" she asked Novak.
Novak shrugged. "I'm the only one I know about. I don't know how Hic! I got loose either. I've been sabotaging things Hic! trying to use the com system, trying all kinds of Hic! stuff. I was sure he knew something was up. He kept looking at me, sneaking up on me. I don't know. Hic! I was sure that he knew, but he never did anything. It's been making me Hic! really nervous."
They turned the corner and came across a patrol then, so the conversation was cut short. Six zat shots later and every one in there group was armed. Teal'c was grazed by a shot from a staff weapon but no alarms went off. They found a storage room and dragged their newest collection of prisoners inside.
"We're going to have to take out the bridge, the weapons systems, the engines, and the shields," Carter said.
"The only problem is there are about three hundred twenty of our own people between us and them," Novak pointed out. "If we take out the Goa'uld do you think they'll come out of it?"
Carter looked to Teal'c and Bre'tac, but neither of them had an answer.
"He's not using Goa'uld technology, so we aren't sure what its limitations are. Have you seen anything that might indicate taking him out will work?"
Novak hiccupped, and then shrugged. "People won't even go to the bathroom without his permission. Even if they don't get loose when he goes down it will at least confuse them."
Carter nodded. "Alright, three groups of four. Bre'tac your group takes out the shields and engines, they're linked to the same generators. Novak take these three and deal with the weapons systems. The rest of us will take the bridge and Ba'al."
Eleven heads nodded.
"Godspeed."
"-and so the rapidly increasing gravitational fields destabilize the super-condensed internal matrix of the crystal, causing it to resonate at a particular frequency, which I don't know by the way, that allows the Z.P.M. to conduct power through a stable channel in subspace, delivering power from the module to the Ancient technology," O'Neill concluded.
He really wished he had a clock. It seemed to be a much longer spiel when Carter had given it to him, but when he was repeating the incomprehensible techno babble back to Ba'al it seemed to pour out in less then five minutes. The Goa'uld was watching him with a slightly amused expression, and since those aliens had an unusually sick sense of humor O'Neill didn't think good things were about to happen.
"You do realize," said the Goa'uld, "that according to your explanation Ancient technology will only function within a black hole?"
O'Neill thought for a moment, realized he didn't know enough about astrophysics, and decided to go with a shrug. Ba'al raised his right hand.
"Crucio."
When it stopped Ba'al stood before him, watching and waiting.
"That's all I know!"
"Crucio."
"You know," O'Neill said gasping for breath, "This is getting old real fast."
The Goa'uld raised an eyebrow.
"Is it? We will have to send for Colonel Carter then, to keep things interesting."
O'Neill swallowed. "You don't want to bring Carter in. She'll just start talking about neutrino output fluxes and String theory. She'll bore you to death really."
"That female is the one who created the interface between your primitive computers and the Stargate on your planet."
O'Neill did not respond.
"I know this already from the Tauri aboard the vessel I captured. They seemed to think she was the only one who could tell me how the Ancient technology worked."
Again he paused as if waiting for O'Neill to say something. O'Neill kept his mouth tightly closed. If he told Ba'al the truth, that Carter was probably the only one who could even begin to understand how the Ancient's stuff worked then Ba'al would start to question her, and he knew Carter wouldn't give up anything without a fight. If Ba'al thought she knew something useful he'd just start torturing her. On the other hand if he didn't say something Carter could end up dead like Captain Vaun. So weeks of torture and the eventual loss of identity with repetitive use of the sarcophagus, or dead in the next few hours; O'Neill knew which one Carter would choose, but he kept his mouth shut anyway.
"If you will not speak to save her, perhaps she will speak to save you."
Ba'al went to the table where he had piled up the unpleasant objects he used to entertain visitors. As he picked over knives and bottles, O'Neill noticed a 9mm and a P90 had been added to the collection. He looked up at Ba'al, who must have noticed where he was looking, because he picked the P90 up.
"Your species creates very crude weapons. Unlike our technology they often cause a slow agonizing death. Of course in some situations that is what is desired."
Ba'al flicked off the safety and pointed the gun at O'Neill. He squeezed the trigger.
For a moment the echo of gunfire was over powering. O'Neill could focus on nothing else. He felt the bullets hit him, but they seemed to be at the edge of his thoughts. He supposed it could have been from the endorphins stirred up by the whole crucio thing. He felt them hit, but it was more like a three quick punched to the stomach then the normal mortal agony of such wounds. He heard bullets ricochet off the wall beside him and something sizzled and sparked. The next thing he new he was face down on the floor.
With supreme effort he tilted up his chin so he could see the Goa'uld. His eyes were flaring orange again and he scowled as he dropped the P90 to the floor. O'Neill supposed he hadn't meant to hit the circuitry supplying the gravity generator. The Goa'uld shouted something to his guards in his own language and they left. The only word O'Neill understood was "Carter". The Goa'uld waved a hand at O'Neill and he was flipped over onto his back. Ba'al came closer, peering down at the damage he had cased. O'Neill's eyes started to drift closed.
"Enervate!" said Ba'al.
It felt like an electrical shock. His eyelids sprang open and refused to close again.
"You will stay conscious until Colonel Carter arrives-"
The chiming was so faint O'Neill was not certain he had heard it, but Ba'al whirled suddenly and strode away across the room, out of his range of vision. O'Neill raised his head off the floor and stabbing pain shot through his abdomen. He could only hold himself up for a few seconds but it was long enough to see. He let his head fall back to the floor with a thump.
There was a lot of blood, but he saw that none of wounds were particularly centered. He tried to wiggle his toes and found they would move after a fashion. O'Neill turned his head again. He saw Ba'al on the other side of the room messing with a keyboard with his back to him, and the P90 on the floor half way between them.
O'Neill rolled over and began to drag himself across the floor. He didn't move quietly. The buttons on his clothes and his boots scrapped and squeaked as he pulled and pushed him self along. The Goa'uld did not turn around.
Did he have his personal shield up? Was this some kind of trick? Was the Goa'uld just messing with him?
Even as these thoughts stumbled through his mind he continued to crawl. He looked up at the holographic projections that Ba'al was watching so intently. The Prometheus was moving toward them and her weapons systems were powering up. He wriggled forward and looked down at the floor again, worried that Ba'al would somehow feel his eyes upon him; feel what he apparently did not hear. O'Neill's hand closed over the barrel of the P90. It was still hot. He aimed at the Goa'uld's back from his prone position, but hesitated.
He didn't just forget I'm here. Goa'uld don't do absent minded things like that. But Goa'uld don't accidentally blow up their own equipment and they don't fall out of their chairs.
For a moment he had a wild hope that the kid had somehow regained some control of his body, but it couldn't be risked.
He must have his personal shield up. I have to get closer, crawl through it before I fire.
He crawled closer. He thought about putting the P90 to the back of the kid's head and finishing it. He was six feet away and the Goa'uld still hadn't turned. O'Neill pushed himself up on his elbows and one at a time pulled his knees under him. He was soaked in blood and his feet slipped as he put weight on them. There was a loud wet squeak, but the Goa'uld did not turn. Using the P90 almost like a crutch he pushed his rapidly numbing body upright. He lifted the gun to his shoulder and stepped closer.
I have to end this. His head was spinning. I have to end this.
He remembered. He had shot Skarra to keep the Goa'uld from destroying Earth. He'd ordered them to shut off the gate, to kill Major Kowalski and keep the Goa'uld in his friend's head from escaping through the gate with information about the SGC.
I have to end this.
He remembered how Ba'al had tortured him, how years ago he had tortured him for weeks for information O'Neill did not even posses, how Ba'al was going to destroy Earth, how he was going to kill Carter.
I have to end this.
I can end this.
He felt the safety with his thumb. It was already off. He stepped closer and raised the barrel so it was even with the back of the kid's head, less then an inch away. The Goa'uld stiffened up then, suddenly tense, suddenly aware. Ba'al started to bring up the hand device, but froze with his arms half raised like an awkwardly posed Barbie doll.
"Do it," he said in a voice that didn't echo, a voice that belonged only to the kid.
O'Neill's hand shook.
"Do it," Harry Potter said. "Can't…hold him…"
O'Neill shifted his grip on the P90. His hand slid off the trigger and up the barrel. He brought it back and then swung it down as hard as he could. With an audible crack it hit the back of the kid's head and slammed his face into the keyboard he'd been working at. He started to tip over and O'Neill raised the gun and brought it down again in the same spot. The kid bounced off the consul again and fell to the floor. His eyes flashed orange and his hands came up to block the blow. O'Neill slammed the butt of the riffle into his temple. There was another cracking sound. The orange glow faded and the kid's eyes sunk closed.
O'Neill sank to the floor. He reached for the kid's left hand and tugged off the ribbon device. He tossed it across the room and then scooted backwards so he could lean against the wall and still see the kid and the door. He checked the clip on the P90; twenty rounds left. If the guards came back he'd use up nineteen of them. If that wasn't enough he might still have to finish Ba'al off.
He watched and waited, his eyes growing heavier and the room growing colder. He knew he'd pass out soon. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He knew he was bleeding out. He knew he should finish off Ba'al in the next few minutes. If Ba'al woke up first they were all screwed. But he waited. The room got darker and sparks flew from a panel on the other side of the room. He heard foot steps and raised the gun.
Carter stepped through the door, with a zat in one hand and bruised and bloody nose. O'Neill let go of the P90 and it clattered to the floor. She scanned the room and then rushed to him. He saw Teal'c close behind. Teal'c toed the kid with his boot and then began to tear Ba'al's robe into strips to tie him up with. There were two more people behind them. O'Neill didn't know them.
"Sir?" she said. She started poking at the holes in his belly.
"Get the snake out of the kid's head," O'Neill said. "I told him…get it out, alright Carter?"
He let his eyes drift closed.
"Sir?"
She was slapping the sides of his face.
"Sir, you have to stay awake! Stay with us!"
The room felt cold.
"Sir!"