A/N: Chapter 2, here we go!
In spite of her own misgivings, Elle fell asleep and slept like, well, the dead. She woke up to a soft chiming, used to waking up at the sound of alerts.
"El-Anur," Aimir said, coming over and jostling her. "Good morning. You slept well?"
"Yes," Elle said, swinging her feet to the floor. She let out a jaw-cracking yawn and stretched. The exaggerated motion twinged her shoulder, and she grimaced. "Ugh. I'm gonna have to..." she trailed off. There was no healthcare here, no sickbay, no physical therapists. She'd have to figure it out herself. "...be careful," she finally said. She rummaged through her backpack to find clothes.
Amiri didn't let Elle put her own cargo pants on. "You must dress your best," Amiri said. "You cannot dress like a field worker. Where is your dignity?"
"In my own personhood," Elle said.
Amiri blinked at her.
"Never mind," Elle sighed and pulled the linen shift dress over her head. It really was comfortable, and so were the sandals. Real leather, sturdy and soft. "These would be so expensive in real life," Elle muttered.
The girl next to her gave her a startled look.
Elle grinned apologetically and offered to braid her hair. Make friends, make friends. Somehow her inner voice sounded like Picard. Kindness is a better ambassador than hostility. Right now, you are the alien in this society. You cannot afford to draw attention. You have to stay calm, stay focused.
The kitchen slaves came in with breakfast, some sort of grain porridge and grilled skewers, and beer? "Beer?" Elle asked. "For breakfast?"
Amiri gave her a funny smile. "What else would we drink?"
Elle took a careful sip. "Wheat soda," she decided, relieved. This must be the original beer, the nutritional fermented drink for everyone, from children to workers, that everyone used to drink. Captain Picard would love to see this.
Elle pushed down the pang of loss and focused on eating her breakfast. Stay fueled. "What time is it?" she asked.
"Time for our duties," said Shaya simply as breakfast was cleared away.
In the rush of putting on makeup, the Women's Quartermaster arrived, carrying a tablet. "Ladies," she said loudly. She started a sort of assignment roster, going through all the girls. Some were assigned to the audience hall, some to the courtyards, some to assist with the laundry, and some to meals. Those who were assigned later meals also got morning assignments.
There was no time to think or to plan as Elle tried to keep up with what was going on. Don't draw attention to yourself. There's a time and place for chaos, and this ain't it. Just figure stuff out. Elle, Amiri, and a handful of girls were assigned to inventory and organize the laundry rooms in the morning and were also assigned to serve the evening meal. Inventory and organizing went great. Now, in a pinch, Elle knew where to find the ingredients to make chlorine gas. That was an idea...
After a quick, hearty dinner, the girls harried Elle into even nicer clothing and more jewelry and refreshed their hairstyles.
"We will train you," Amiri assured her as they walked down the halls to the main banquet hall. "Simply follow, and do not raise your eyes to your betters."
"No eye contact," Elle muttered. "Got it."
She didn't know what the names of any of the dishes were, but between Amiri and another girl named Shua, she managed to keep up.
Kepher didn't even notice them as he and his advisors ate and spoke of plans. "Another planet has fallen to the Tau'ri," Kepher said. "We will be receiving the rest of my brother's Jaffa."
"Yes, my lord. We will make the appropriate arrangements."
"See that the slave survivors are silenced," Kepher said. "I will not have the authority of the gods questioned."
"Yes, my lord. No one will speak of the Tau'ri."
Elle ducked her head and put down the platter of stuffed dates, her heart hammering in her chest. The Tau'ri. The Goa'uld's name for humans that came from planet Earth. That means there is a Stargate program. They were out there. Thank the Great Bird of the Galaxy. She'd landed sometime after 1996. From what Shaya had said yesterday, the main Goa'uld leader, Ra, was dead, which meant the events of the movie had already happened. Kurt Russell and James Slader had bowed out with their big movie to be replaced by Richard Dean Anderson, Michael Shanks, and the rest of Stargate Command from the television show. She hadn't heard anything about any of the higher-ranking Goa'uld leaders during this dinner. But there were hundreds of minor Goa'uld with one or two slave populations that slowly got stamped out over time. Since Kepher didn't sound too alarmed, she could safely assume it was the early seasons of SG-1 before Earth had really started dismantling the Goa'uld empire of slavery and dominion.
She missed a cue, and Amira glared at her. Elle hurriedly refocused her thoughts and went to grab the pitcher of wine. C'mon, Elle, if General Leia Organa could handle this, you can handle it. And at least it's not a Hutt. This supposed god at least smells like frankincense and myrrh. Myrrh-der. No. Stop it. It's not funny. Does smell good, though.
By the time the Goa'uld and his court finished eating and the girls helped the kitchen slaves take things back to the kitchens, it was well past dark. Elle, Amira, and Shua returned to the servants' quarters, bathed, changed into cotton shift nightgowns, and went to bed.
One of the palace cats jumped up on Elle's bed and curled around her feet. Elle lay there in the dark, her head spinning with new information. At least, with all the running around, she had gotten a better idea of the compound's layout. The ha'tak, the pyramid, was in the center. There were several other buildings, low and sprawling, that surrounded the pyramid, making one big square palace compound. If she could get past the guards, she could get back into the forest and head for the Stargate. I still don't have an address, though. I can't dial out to another planet. Okay. Now what.
Thinking about it logically... the stargates generated stable one-way wormholes to other planets with stargates on them. Each planet had its own address consisting of coordinates based on constellations. Six constellations made the sides of a cube, detailing the planet's relative position in space. That was your destination location. The seventh coordinate was the starting point, the planet you were "calling" from. She had to find this planet's address. If I was just a smidge more of an all-rounder nerd, I would have memorized them, she lamented to herself. But no, you focused on things like memorizing all the Jefferies' tubes and Fleet movements in the Alpha Quadrant. Ugh. Nerd.
She spent the rest of the night in Vulcan-style meditation, running through the show in her mind, trying to find any Stargate address that might have been lodged in her visual memory. The only thing she managed to piece together was the history of the Goa'uld. Once upon a time, she narrated sarcastically, there was a race of sentient symbiotes who found humanoid hosts. They built an empire on the remains of a previous advanced race called the Ancients and took over the galaxy. They found Earth, posed as gods, and started using humans as slaves and, equally, hosts to their parasite bodies, spreading humans across the galaxy. They even took humans, modified them to carry baby parasites around like really weird kangaroos, and called them Jaffa. Humans fought them all off of Earth and forgot about them, but now, modern humans are going around the galaxy exploring and getting rid of the Goa'uld. It started with the leader of the system lords, Ra, who was blown up by a nuclear missile. Then, you know, multiple others. If it's still early, not too much has been done yet. Eventually, the main players will be eliminated and the power vacuum infighting takes care of the rest. So aliens really did build the pyramids here as alien landing pads. And every other weird thing people joke about is probably alien interference, too. Well, at least in Star Trek, you could always blame time travel. Here, you can only blame aliens.
The next few days passed in a blur of 'follow orders,' 'keep your head down,' 'don't make eye contact,' 'listen for information,' and 'meditate before sleep.' Elle had never been this tired in her life, but she knew she was on a time crunch. Eventually, she was going to make a mistake or stand out too much, and they would kill her. She had to escape sooner than later. Keep it together, keep it together. That was the recurring theme in Elle's thoughts, all day, every day. Just wait for the right moment. Hold your position. It always comes.
Finally, after a week of living in this new universe, she dredged out of her mind an address. Six constellations. Taurus, Serpens Caput, Capricornus, Monoceros, Sagittarius, Orion. She snapped out of her meditation, her heart rate picking up. The cat lying on her chest was startled. "Mrrow?"
Elle petted the cat, smiling at the rough swipe of its tongue on her fingers. "It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay, I've got it. I can sleep now." Thank goodness for Captain Kirk's insistence on learning to navigate with old-school constellations. The only thing she was missing was the point of origin. This planet's symbol. Tomorrow, she'd start figuring out which one it was.
-/\-
Elle kept her eyes peeled over the next two days. Some symbol that looked constellation-like, anything. Finally, she spotted one that seemed suitably stellar in origin. Either that or whoever had woven that tapestry was drunk when they were trying to put in a picture of a scythe. That had to be it, though, considering that all the people who made constellations originally were Babylonian astronomers who were definitely smokin' something or other. Funky-looking scythe, origin point. Nice. Either that, or she'd have to put in the address 38 times with all the symbols until one finally registered. Not so nice.
"El-anur?" Amiri said, breaking her reverie. "Let me braid your hair, you are too slow."
Elle let her braid her hair, wincing as Amiri pulled the braids tight and precise. "You braid hair like my tia, my aunt," Elle grumbled as Amiri wrapped gold thread around the ends of the braid.
"Good," Amiri said primly. "Yours are too loose."
Elle kept silent. Now for a distraction. She could, of course, try and sneak out with some of the slaves who went back and forth from the villages, but they were always escorted by Jaffa. They would notice her, even if she managed to steal a slave's plain shift and head covering. Okay. When in doubt, what would Captain Picard do? Cause an uprising, probably. That won't work with this crowd. What would Captain Kirk do? Inspire revolution, probably. Man, they really are similar. What's plan B? Spock and Riker would seduce people in opposite directions. Absolutely not. Plan C. What would, like, Scotty do? Blow something up. I can do that. It would have to be something big enough to distract them long enough. She could use her phaser, melt through one of the walls, and overload whatever electricals this place had. There had to be a control center, right? Communications, security, something like that. She could blow it up. That was easy. She-
"You two!" Amun-san, the quartermaster, snapped at them impatiently. "Kepher has moved his morning. Attend the judging. Hurry!"
Elle and Amiri shared a glance and followed the Jaffa to the main throne room. They took up their spots at Kepher's left hand, sitting on the steps up to the throne. Amiri arranged her skirts to flow over the steps and squinted at Elle until she followed suit. Their job was to pour wine or water for Kepher and the members of his court and look pretty (but not too pretty). Four of his harem were in attendance, and every eye was drawn to them. Elle averted her gaze from them. If they were here, then Kepher would most likely not kill anyone in cold blood in front of everyone. Last week, he had his Jaffa behead a trio of merchants whose gifts weren't high-quality enough. The two girls who had been serving wine had come back to the rooms shaken and pale. Elle could not, would not, stay silent in the face of injustice. Yes, you will, her inner Riker said forcefully. You're in a terrible position, and you're not going to get yourself killed when they're dead anyway.
Elle contemplated acquiring poison and slipping it into the wine. No, too many casualties. She didn't want anyone to die. But if she diluted a substance, put it in the water supply, and got everyone sick, she could leave in the chaos. But again, where would she even get that? She didn't even have access to the kitchen gardens to get something suitably gut-rumbly.
Kepher gestured with two fingers. Wine.
Elle poured wine into the gold cup and walked forward, offering him the wine with two hands. She kept her head tilted downward. Look down, don't look him in the eye, Valjean.
He took the cup, drained it in one swallow, and handed it back. He grabbed her chin and lifted her gaze.
She bit back her initial reaction and stayed silent.
He smirked and let her go.
She returned to her spot on the steps, literally trembling with rage. Amiri took the cup from her and brushed Elle's arm with her own in silent encouragement. Elle sat back down on the steps and fussed with her skirts until she managed to force down her emotions. She looked up again and caught the eye of one of the harem women across the steps. The woman, really only a few years older than Elle, gave her a small smile and lifted her chin in a gesture.
Elle dipped her head in acknowledgment and lifted her chin. None of these women in the room had a choice, but that didn't mean they couldn't have personal dignity.
Kepher overlooked their little byplay, too busy listening to the list of offenses read out by a Jaffa. "Execute him," he said in a bored tone.
The Jaffa nearest Elle swung his staff weapon and blasted the man point-blank. The energy bolt sent him to the floor, and he lay still, his expression shocked.
"Get rid of that," Kepher's First Prime Jaffa said. "Next case."
Elle averted her eyes as the corpse was dragged away.
-/\-
Elle picked up three batteries and a handful of wires over the course of the next week, and after working in the courtyard near the control rooms of the pyramid ship, she'd managed to find a cast-off tablet stone. She waited till everyone was asleep, then pulled out the supplies. Power source, wires, controller. Yeah. I can make this blow up.
Over the next few days, she MacGyvered it all up, hiding it under the pile of mending she'd volunteered to fix. The tablet stone was like a Bluetooth mouse for the Goa'uld tablets, which were not touchscreens. Waving the stone over the tablet "turned the page" and allowed one to edit, input, and transfer information. You could use the same "mouse" for all the Goa'uld tablets. Elle would've kept it to try and gather more information from any tablets she could get her hands on, but the mouse had all the programming and functions to work as a delayed timer and detonator. Now we just have to wait for a good time.
The next day, she was on edge. Eventually, she would be assigned to the eastern courtyard, and in the afternoon, when the sun was at its most intense and no one but the slaves were outdoors, she could slip away. No one would notice.
Finally, at the end of the week (what counted as a week? They didn't have weekends, they didn't have Sundays, and there were no religious rites that took place on a specified day because their god lived among them, how long had Elle been here? Don't freak out, don't freak out) -at the end of the week, she was assigned eastern courtyard duties. The task was easy enough to handle: keep the "snack bar" full, offer refreshments to anyone who wanted to be in the courtyard, keep the shade silks from tangling or blowing away, and don't let any of the kids or animals in the water fountain. The only problem was Shaya, who was her partner, and the Jaffa guard patrol that walked past them every ninety minutes.
Her opportunity came when Shaya said, "Can I step away?"
Elle looked at her, trying to school her surprise. "Um?"
"The kitchen boy," Shaya said, blushing.
Elle grinned, suddenly realizing this was the answer to her dilemma. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll cover for you."
Shaya slid her shawl over her hair and slipped away. The Jaffa guard would not come through for another twenty minutes.
Elle grabbed her "pile of mending" and started walking. Within the compound, there was a telecommunications room. Elle figured if there were explodable electronics, it'd be there. There was no one guarding it, ever, because no one in this compound knew how to read, much less tamper with subspace communications or computer servers. And if the Jaffa caught her, she could plead ignorance. Technically, she was illiterate. Elle couldn't read Goa'uld, even though she was learning the spoken language due to immersion. She couldn't fully rely on the universal translator in her arm because if it ever gave out... Elle had been turning it off every day for a couple of hours among the girls to pick up the language. Unfortunately it did not work on the written language, but again, no one knew how to read. No one was writing anything. Everything was labeled with pictograms or hieroglyphics. Have technology, but have a backup plan.
She made it to the hallway with the comms room and checked for cameras. There were none so far. She slipped into the room. It was empty.
Elle went to one of the side wall consoles and knelt to pull the cabinet covers off. She was greeted with a tangle of wires and crystal data chips in slots. Servers, if she had to guess. She pulled her bomb out of the pile of mending and stuck it into the tangle of wires, covering it with more wires. "Which one of you is the main power line?" she muttered. Have to do this the old-fashioned way. She closed her eyes and focused on the tips of her fingers. She touched each cluster of wires near the grounding point, looking for the target buzz. Scotty said the best engineers could tell the voltage within 15 watts - she'd been trained until she could tell within 50, which Scotty said was close enough for modern jazz.
Found it. She hooked up the device to the main power line. The only thing left was to set the timer. How long should she wait? Elle thought about it logically. End of the day, no. Too suspicious. It'd have to be in the morning when everyone was flooding to their duties, and the hallways were alive with people. No one would notice a single missing servant girl as they ran to protect the false god and his court. She set it for the appropriate number of hours and closed the panel back up.
Elle grabbed her pile of mending and slipped out of the comms room. She hurried back to the courtyard, head bowed, and took up her station. The sun was blazing hot, and no one was there.
Shaya came back a good fifteen minutes later, flushed and giggling.
"Have a nice chat?" Elle asked, raising her eyebrows.
Shaya blushed and grinned. "Very."
Elle grinned back at her and tried to calm her own racing heart. So far, so good.
After the evening meal, they all played a card game, which was the Ancient Egyptian equivalent of blackjack. Elle was not winning, too distracted by the countdown in the back of her mind. It was joyous and loud until the Jaffa came in.
Everyone froze.
The one Jaffa took his helmet down, revealing his solemn face and the scarab tattoo on his forehead. "The palace is on lockdown," he said. "There are sightings of foreign spies in the forest."
Elle carefully didn't show any reaction but fear, shrinking into Amiri's side. In this, she was just like all the rest of the girls.
"No one leaves this room," the Jaffa ordered and swept away.
The girls all began to mutter uneasily. "Foreign spies," Khula said. "What does that mean?"
" Tau'ri," said Shaya. "The destroyers."
"Who are they?" Elle asked, her heart leaping in her throat as she feigned ignorance.
"Godless ones," Shaya said. "They come from the Old World, and they have cast off the blessings of the gods. All they do is incite rebellion, so they say."
An SG team. An SG team was here on this planet. Elle only had to wait till morning if something else didn't happen, and she could find them. And if she missed them, at least she knew they'd be out there.
"What do we do?" one of the younger girls asked.
"We stay here," Amiri said. "Our god will protect us."
Elle almost said something. But what could she say that wouldn't get her immediately caught? She kept her mouth shut, burning with combined shame and hope.
They put the cards away and kept to the quieter crafts, a sense of tension almost palpable in the air. Elle could feel it fizzing on her skin. Finally, around midnight, people began to go to sleep. Elle crept to the storage closet and grabbed her backpack. No one noticed it in her possession. She pulled on the straps, and it folded down into a belt with pockets. Handy, that. She put it around her waist.
Only Amiri noticed. "What are you doing?" she asked sleepily.
"If we have to flee," Elle said. "I've already been chased out of my home once. I don't want to do it again."
Amiri's gaze softened. "Of course. Everything will work out, El-Anur. You'll see." Her gaze slid off the belt, and she focused back on her stitching pattern.
The perception filter was definitely working. Elle lay down on her bed and draped a shawl over herself but did not take off her sandals.
Sometime later, the Jaffa burst into the room again. "The new girl," the Jaffa barked. "Where is she? You!" They came over to Elle and yanked her up off the bed. "Come with us."
"Wait, please!" Elle said, tugging fruitlessly. "I haven't done anything!"
The Jaffa were unmoved, and she was taken away. None of the other girls reached out to help. Only a few of them even looked at her.
The guards dragged her through the palace and threw her, once again, at Kepher's feet, forcing her head down. "You," Kepher said, his voice two-toned. "The one with the fire in her eyes. What do you know of the Tau'ri?"
"The, the Tau'ri, my lord?" Elle stammered, not having to fake her fear. "I, uh, it is said they are the godless ones, my lord. Is that true?"
"You tell me," Kepher said, grabbing her chin and forcing her head up. "You appear in the woods, alone and helpless, and here the Tau'ri are, weeks later, scouting the area. What planet are you from? I never heard you say."
"A small, insignificant one, my lord," Elle managed. "I did not know its name. I only knew it as home."
"So humble," Kepher said, smiling at her coldly. He leaned forward. "But you are lying. I can see your defiance, girl. Do not lie to me. How did you get here?"
"On a ship," Elle said. "A merchant from Chulak took pity on me."
Kepher let her go and brought his other hand up. "You are a spy," he said and aimed the ribbon device on his hand at her forehead. His eyes flashed. " Tell me who you are."
Elle knew, intellectually, what the ribbon device was. A kara kesh, almost a glove, powered by the mineral called naquadah in a Goa'uld's blood (the same stuff the Stargates are made out of), focuses energy through the red jewel in the palm of the device, used by directing your will. You could use it to heal, to throw a person back with a blast of energy, to read a person's mind, to cause them pain. And now, by personal experience, she knew it really freaking hurt. She gritted her teeth against the searing sensation along her nerves, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of screaming. Her mental shields were strong enough to withstand the assault, but it hurt.
Kepher increased the intensity of his search for answers. Elle strained to block her thoughts, groaning as the pain in her head increased. Focus, her inner Spock ordered. Focus. She pulled back mentally behind another wall. It's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small, small world...
Kepher shouted in disgust and threw her back with a blast of energy. She hit the stone wall hard, the back of her head slamming backward with a sharp crack. "Take her to the dungeon," Kepher ordered. "Perhaps she'll lure the others out."
Elle fought weakly as the Jaffa picked her up, but her head was throbbing. She couldn't stop the wave of nausea and threw up all over the stone corridor. The Jaffa made a grossed-out sound and kept walking. They dragged her down to the dungeons and threw her in a cell.
She was too disoriented to catch herself and hit the ground again. She groaned. The sound of the door slamming sent a blinding white pain through her head, and Elle passed out.
-/\-
Consciousness came back slowly. Very slowly and with great reluctance. Elle fought her way up through the dark and the drumbeat and the pain, and almost threw up again when she blinked awake. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she lay there on the ground and let them drip off the side of her cheek. She fell asleep again, sometime in between waves of pain.
When she woke up a second time, the headache had eased, and she no longer felt like she was on a spinning boat, more like a gently drifting raft. "Don't throw up," she told herself sternly and forced herself to sit up. The room wobbled alarmingly, but she stayed upright. She dragged herself over to the wall. "Don't throw up," she chanted and waited till her head and the room stopped spinning. "How long was I out?" she asked the stone wall.
There were no clocks in the dungeons. Obviously. Her internal sense of time decided she'd been asleep, maybe, three or four hours. Which meant there were only three or four hours until her little surprise went off in the comms room. She could wait. In the meantime, figure out how to open the door and maybe sleep a little.
She shuffled over to the door and peered at it. It was not fancy. It was literally a giant steel bolt. No way to hack it. No way to... she looked down at her belt. You have a phaser, she reminded herself. The phaser could cut clean through it. Not yet. Wait for the explosion. Even down here, Elle would be able to hear it.
There was a loud clang from down the hall. Someone was coming. Elle scrambled to the far corner of the cell and curled into a ball to play dead. The Jaffa came stomping in with four people dressed in green fatigues, shouting insults and struggling. The door to the cell opened, and the four people were thrown inside. The door slammed shut.
"Hey!" the older human man hollered, banging on the door. "I ordered a room with a view!"
The Jaffa called back a scathing insult, and their footsteps faded away.
Elle stared in surprise at the patches on their shoulders. United States Air Force. SG1. It was SG1, the main characters of the show, delivered to her figurative doorstep. "Tau'ri," she said, unable to stop herself.
All four of them whipped around, staring at her in disbelief. "We mean you no harm," the one who could only be Dr. Daniel Jackson said gently.
The older man, who could only be Colonel Jack O'Neill, turned to pound on the door. "Hey! This one's occupied! I was promised a vacant residence! I want to speak to the manager!"
Elle stifled a hysterical laugh, wiping at the tears escaping down her cheeks. "It's really you," she said again. "I thought I was gonna have to make it out on my own."
"Jack, please," Dr. Jackson said as Colonel O'Neill kicked the door again. He gave Elle a gentle smile. "Hello. My name is Daniel. My friends and I mean you no harm. We won't hurt you. What's your name?"
"Elle," Elle said slowly, suddenly remembering that just because their patches said SG1, that didn't mean a thing in a universe where clones or robot copies could be running around at any moment. "Are you from Earth?" she asked. She could not afford to have impostors or copies messing up her escape plans.
"Yes," Daniel said. "You've heard of it?"
"Where, on Earth?" Elle pressed.
"Colorado," Daniel said.
"Daniel," O'Neill said in reprimand.
"What? She doesn't know where that is."
"Actually, I do," Elle said, uncurling from her protective ball with a wince. "The Rockies."
"How-"
"My name is Eleanor Wilcott," Elle said. "I'm from Oregon, actually. Not your Earth, though. Earth, approximately three universes away. I know you because you're a television show in my universe. You're SG-1, right? You found the Stargate on your planet and stuck it in a secret base, and now you go out and take down the Goa'uld. Right? Please say you're not alternate universe bad guys because I've already been beaten up once today."
They stared at her. "What?" Daniel finally said.
"I'm from 2367," Elle said. "I was on a starship. Well, I was on an away mission. Then I got electrocuted. Then I got shot. Then I was here."
"What?"
Elle took a deep breath and winced at the pain. "Sorry. I'm not doing this right. Yogurt-god thought I was a spy and scrambled my brains, trying to read my mind. I still have a concussion."
"Yogurt-god?"
"Concussion?"
"Kepher," Elle said. "The Goa'uld this planet belongs to." She eyed the woman, Captain Sam Carter, as she approached.
"Can I check you over?" the captain asked. "My name is Sam. Sam Carter. I'm certified in First Aid."
"Sure," Elle said.
Carter gently placed her hands on Elle's neck. "No symbiote," she reported, glancing back at O'Neill.
"No, duh," Elle said. "I have nanites. They'd get eaten." She closed her eyes. "Gonna have to revise our contract, ask 'em what they want to do in this universe."
"Nanites?" Carter echoed, alarmed.
"They're sentient," Elle informed her and winced when Carter touched the back of her head. " Oww."
"Blood," Carter said, pressing gently. "Nice little bump there." She checked Elle over. "No bones broken."
"Just bruised everywhere," Elle said, wincing.
"Your pupils are really uneven," Carter said, squinting at her in the dim light. "Are you dizzy?"
"Very," Elle said. "Better than a few hours ago. Grade 4 concussion, at least. If you guys are using a five-stage grading system."
"Uh, no," Carter said after a startled second. "It only goes up to four. You passed out?"
"Yeah. Twice. I've been here, for..." Elle counted. "Five hours? It's okay, though. In a couple of hours, my bomb is going to go off, and we can get out of here." She leaned her head against the wall, watching them exchange glances.
They exchanged another glance. "I think you'd better start from the beginning," O'Neill said. "But first, besides today's events, are you hurt anywhere else?"
"Are we counting the emotional toll of my last two deaths?" she asked, closing her eyes.
There was a suspicious pause. She didn't open her eyes. "No," O'Neill said slowly. "Unless we are."
"Mm. Well, my shoulder hurts because that Jaffa wrenched my bad arm, but other than that, no. I'm just tired."
"How long have you been here?" Daniel asked.
"I don't know," Elle said, frowning. "Six weeks? Eight weeks? Something like that. The calendar system is different here, and it was February in my world when I got zapped here."
"It's September on Earth," Daniel said apologetically.
"Yeah, that doesn't help. Let's say six weeks," Elle said, waving a hand.
They exchanged another glance. "Six weeks is a long time," Daniel said gently.
"I know," Elle said, scowling at him. "I have proof, though." She dug into her belt and extracted her old clothes out of the main belt pouch. They fell out of her hands and dropped on the floor.
"That's, a lot of blood," Carter said warily, picking up the jacket, which was stiff with dried blood.
"I know," Elle said again. "He shot me for maximum effect. I'm still pale from all the blood loss. I think I need iron supplements."
"Prove you're from Earth," O'Neill challenged.
Elle blinked at him. "The, really?"
"What's something only someone from our time on Earth would know?"
"Chicken nuggets," Elle said after a long second of dredging through her tired brain. "If we get out of here, if I don't die here, I want to go McDonald's. I want chicken nuggets, and fries, and a Coke. No. I want Dr. Pepper. A giant Dr. Pepper." She rubbed at her eyes. "They lost the Dr. Pepper recipe in the future. I blame World War Three. If I could blame Khan specifically for it, I would. We have Coke and Sprite and root beer substitutes but no Dr. Pepper. You wouldn't think it would make such a difference, but you know, it's that little hint of Pepto-Bismol that really does it. My mom hates it, but I love it. Me and my dad would get a 2-liter and popcorn and watch Indiana Jones. I really miss chicken nuggets. The replicators only give you chicken tenders because nuggets violate health codes, but I don't care." She closed her eyes against hot tears. "I haven't had Dr. Pepper since I was thirteen, and we went to the rock museum, and we got food after. Oh, man, I want soft-serve ice cream. And those little apple pies. Do you guys have strawberries and cream flavor yet? I am so concussed right now, sorry."
They were staring at her. "Yup," O'Neill said. "Only an American would get emotional over McDonald's."
"I will also take Wendy's," Elle said. "Frosty."
"Kid, how old are you?" O'Neill asked, coming closer.
"Almost eighteen," she said.
O'Neill reached over and patted her on the back. "You're gonna be okay, kid. We're gonna get you out of here."
She squinted at him suspiciously.
"I promise," he said, gripping her shoulder. "You're going to get home."
"Thank you," Elle said, suddenly feeling tears spring to her eyes. Stupid concussion.
"When did you set your explosion for?" Carter asked.
"The moments after breakfast, as duties are being assigned," Elle said. "Local morning, like the second hour." She looked at Teal'c, the fourth member of SG1, who had been silent up to now. "Right? That's the time that everyone is bustling everywhere for maximum confusion."
He inclined his head. The gold tattoo of Apophis, the false god that he had rejected, gleamed dully in the dim lighting. "Indeed," he said. "That is the usual time for everyone to begin their duties. I am Teal'c, Elle Wilcott."
"I know," Elle said. "You're one of my favorite characters."
They shared another glance.
"We still have two hours then," Daniel said. "You should get some rest." He shrugged his jacket off and held it out. "Here. I'm sure you're cold."
She took it gingerly. "Thanks." She curled up against the wall, draped in the oversized jacket, and immediately started to fall asleep.
"What do you think?" O'Neill murmured as the four SG1 members clustered on the other side of the cell.
"Not faking it," Carter whispered. "She's injured badly."
"And her accent isn't fake, either," Daniel said. "She's speaking some sort of Esperanto dialect, not plain English. The idea of a common global language makes sense for a future society."
"Not Esperanto," Elle mumbled, sticking her head out of the jacket. "'S Federation Standard."
"Right," O'Neill said after a second. "Space English."
Elle sighed. "Whatever."
"Okay, she's definitely a teenager," he said, amused.
Elle dozed off.
-/\-
Elle woke up with the startling realization that the timer was running out. "Five minutes," she said groggily.
"Huh?" Jack asked.
"Five minutes," Elle said, uncurling from the floor. She handed Daniel his jacket back. "That's when my distraction goes off."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive, Captain. Wait, no, sorry, General." Elle rubbed at her face. Air Force. They're Air Force. There's no Star Fleet here. "Wait. That's still not right. What are you?"
"Colonel," O'Neill said, a funny look on his face.
"Colonel," Elle said. "Early days. Anyways. Yes. Four minutes, now."
O'Neill clapped his hands together. "Okay, kids. How do we get out then?"
"Well, I have a spoon," Daniel said dryly. "If we had about five years, we could dig our way out."
"Anyone else?"
Elle rummaged through her bag. "I have a phaser."
"Isn't that like a zat?" Sam asked. "Sorry, do you know what a zat is?"
"A zat is a stun gun with style points and bad range. A type-2 phaser could level a city," Elle said, pulling it out.
"You've had that this whole time?" O'Neill demanded as they all gaped at her.
"Uh, yeah."
"You could've escaped ages ago!"
Elle scowled. "I have a weapon that could level cities. I have a responsibility to keep this technology out of the hands of people who would misuse it. I can't just leave a trail of destruction without cover."
O'Neill gave her a grudging nod of respect. "Understandable. Are you trained to use that?"
"Yes, sir. Certified by my Chief of Security."
"Hm. Fine."
She checked the settings. It was set strong enough to melt the door to the cell. A moment later, the ceiling shook, and the foundations rattled, throwing dust everywhere. Everyone ducked down, and Elle crouched, hands over her head. "Told you," she coughed as they all stood up again.
"Do it," the colonel said, nodding at the door.
Elle vaporized the entire door. "Oops," she said dryly and put the phaser back in her bag. "Must have been hollow."
"Don't put it away!" O'Neill said. "Are you crazy?"
She gave him a Look. "I am not giving the Goa'uld even a glimpse at phaser technology."
He sighed. "Right. Heaven save me from principled civilians. Let's go. Elle, do exactly as I say."
"I'm not an idiot," Elle muttered. "Even concussed, I know how to run with a squad."
"Good. Then you'll do as you're told. Teal'c, take point. Elle, with Daniel in the middle, let's go."
They hustled up the stairs to the main level and found SG1's gear in a storage locker. "They always put it here," Sam said, pleased, tossing everyone their vests and their weapons.
"I know, their Op Sec is horrible," Elle muttered, watching the exits as they geared up. "Worf would throw a fit if they didn't secure the enemy's gear."
"Okay, let's go," Jack said, flicking the safety off his P-90.
It was incredibly chaotic, with people running everywhere, and they managed to slip through the side hallways as everyone flooded through the main halls to evacuate. At least Elle had the satisfaction of knowing that if SG1 hadn't come barging in, she could've gotten away clean. It would have worked too if not for you meddling kids, she joked to herself.
"Which way's out?" Daniel asked. "I got turned around."
Elle pointed in different directions. "That way's the stables, that's the gardens. That way's a side entrance over there no one uses near the Jaffa showers. That way's the stargate."
They blinked at her.
"What?" she asked defensively. "I was trying to escape. Of course, I cased the place!"
Teal'c headed for the side entrance without comment, and everyone followed him.
Elle stayed in the middle of the group, ducking at appropriate times as they fielded shots from the Jaffa. The P-90s were loud and made her head hurt, her ears ringing like the bells of Notre Dame. This concussion was getting old fast. "Why don't you carry zats?" she groaned. "They're so much better. Quieter."
"We have zats," O'Neill said, "we just like these better."
"Ugh, Americans," Elle said. As they passed a group of fallen Jaffa, she picked up one of the zats. "I call this one."
"Fine," O'Neill said. "Do not hit one of us."
"Copy that," Elle said and fired at one of the male slaves running at them with a knife. The zat had more kick-back than shown on television. Remember, one shot stuns, two kills, and three vaporizes. Don't hit anybody more than once. These were people she'd lived and worked with for the last six weeks. Ignorance was not malice. They didn't have a choice to be here anymore than she did.
"El-Anur!" Amiri gestured at her from one of the servant's passages. "Get away from them! Come!"
Elle waved her away. "Go! Get to safety. I'll be fine."
"El-Anur?"
"I'm sorry," Elle said as Daniel ushered her forward. She met Amiri's eyes, even as the girl's expression changed to one of betrayal. "I'm sorry. He's not a god, Amiri. He's not a god. Get out of here, please, be safe!" She forced herself to keep running away from the girls who'd kept her alive the last six weeks.
They made it out of the compound and ran for the treeline. They didn't stop until they couldn't hear the shouts of the Jaffa anymore. "You good to run for the 'gate?" Jack asked as the SG team checked over their weaponry.
Elle leaned against a tree to catch her breath and stop the world from spinning sideways. "Yeah, good," she choked out and forced herself to slow her breathing.
They stared at her doubtfully. "Teal'c, can you carry her?" Jack asked.
Elle bristled. "I can run 15k carrying full kit. I can keep up."
"Okay," Jack said after giving Daniel a meaningful look. One that Elle presumed meant, if she's too slow, holler, and Teal'c can carry her.
Elle was done being toted around by Jaffa, even nice ones. She gathered her determination, and they were off.
She kept pace with them as they ran through the forest, and Elle silently thanked Chief Giotto and Worf for making her build her stamina over the last few years. When in doubt, run for your life, she quoted grimly, even as she jumped over a fallen log. Her leather sandals were surprisingly sturdy.
They reached the end of the trees. The gate in the middle of the meadow was suspiciously unguarded. "We might have beaten them here," Jack said, doubtful. "Probably not, but let's go. Daniel. We'll cover you, dial home, and you and Elle go through the gate first."
"Got it," Daniel said.
Elle gripped her zat as they edged out of the trees and headed for the DHD in front of the Stargate.
There was a sort of rustling sound, and Jaffa began to pour out of the trees. "Go!" Jack shouted.
Elle ran with Daniel to the DHD (Dial Home Device - what a name for a sophisticated wormhole computer). She crouched beside him, ducking as staff blasts flew over her head. She memorized the address for Earth as he tapped at the different constellations on the stone interface. Auriga, Cetus, Centaurus, Cancer, Scutum, Eridanus. Eridanus, Eridani, 40 Eridani, what would I give to be on Vulcan... And the point of origin, the same symbol she'd guessed, forever marked in her head as 'funky scythe.' She squeezed off a shot towards a Jaffa that was getting too close, and he went down like a log. She lay down cover fire as Daniel hit the red dome button in the center of the DHD. She shot at another Jaffa and watched in awe as the wormhole formed in the Stargate with a whoosh.
Daniel grabbed her arm. "Run," he ordered and dragged her with him to the Stargate, where the other members of SG1 were covering their escape. He pushed her through the wormhole.
Elle saw a blue, blinding light, stars, saw nothing at all, and felt her stomach swoop- and then she was stumbling down a metal ramp into frigid air, the others stumbling at her heels.
"Close the iris!" Jack hollered at full Colonel volume, and the protective metal iris swirled closed behind them in a 'shhhk' of metal, effectively cutting off anyone who might follow.
Elle grabbed onto the railing to keep from falling down. Voices overlapped, and a loudspeaker blared, and the concrete was making everything echoey, and her head really hurt.
A gentle hand touched her elbow. "Kid?" Jack said. "You gonna let go of the railing anytime soon?"
"No," Elle whispered, wavering on her feet. "If I let go, I'mma fall down."
"Okay," Jack said. "If you grab onto me instead, do you think you can walk to medical?"
"Yeah," Elle said shakily and leaned into him when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. They started down the ramp.
"-gurney?" someone asked.
"No, she was in captivity," Jack said, his voice rumbling. "Let her walk if she wants. I've got her."
"I am a strong, independent woman," Elle muttered absently as they walked down grey hallways. "Don't need no man."
"I like you already," said a short, brunette woman wearing a white lab coat. She had a kind smile. "Don't let anyone tell you differently. I'm Dr. Frasier. You can call me Janet. What's your name?"
"Elle," she said as Jack helped her sit on a bed. "Wilcott."
"Nice to meet you, Elle. I'm just going to check you for injuries. I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know," Elle said tiredly. "S'okay."
Sam stepped up. "Severe concussion, bruises, possible bruised ribs, mental assault-"
"He tried," Elle interrupted, listing to the side. "I didn't give him a thing. You people need better shielding if you think he could have gotten anything from me."
"Something to keep in mind for later," Dr. Frasier quipped. "Look over here for me?"
Elle winced back as a bright light stabbed her eyeball. "Hey!" she protested.
"Sorry, sorry. Pupils are definitely uneven. How long since..."
Elle zoned out as they spoke to each other. Someone, at some point, had draped a blanket over her shoulders, which was nice. It was cold underground. "'M tired," she announced.
"You can go to sleep in a minute," Dr. Frasier said, giving her a smile. "I just have to ask you a few questions, okay?"
Elle sighed. "Okay."
"Can you tell me how you got your concussion?"
"Got slammed to the wall," Elle said, her sluggish thought process trying to rally. "Twice. I passed out for a while. Everything hurts, light hurts, balance is shot. I... have no adrenaline left."
"That's okay," Dr. Frasier said. "Any bleeding from the ears or nose?"
"No." Elle accepted the icepack and hissed as she pressed it against the back of her head.
Dr. Frasier winced in sympathy. "You're gonna feel terrible for a few days, but it'll go away with rest and painkillers. Do you know what ibuprofen is?"
"I'd rather have hydrocortilene, if you have it," Elle muttered, "5% solution. 30 cc's."
"What's that?" Frasier asked.
"Analgesic." Elle rubbed the scar on her shoulder. She desperately missed Dr. Crusher, missed her medical technology, missed the hug she would've gotten by now. And now there was just... "Wait, what year is it?"
"You don't know what year it is?" Frasier asked, shooting Sam a look. The members of SG1 were ranged around the beds nearby, receiving their own post-mission exams.
"Time travel," Elle said tiredly. "Two months ago, it was 2368. The day after that, it was 34 billion. Now it's..." she stared blankly at the computer in the corner. The computer monitor was fat. She hadn't seen any cellphones yet to compare. "Is it 2005? 2002?"
"1999," Frasier corrected.
Elle dropped the icepack and gaped at her, her head pounding with the action. " Nineteen? Nine teen ninety- nine? It's not even the 21st century?"
"Not yet," Frasier said. "Are you allergic to any medication?"
Elle refocused. "Uhhhhhh, no."
"All right." Frasier held up a couple of pills. "Take these. It's ibuprofen for the swelling."
Elle dry-swallowed the pills. "I wish I was home," she said suddenly, feeling like she was going to cry.
"Where's home?" Frasier asked.
Elle huffed a laugh. "I don't even know anymore." She closed her eyes against hot tears. The concussion mood swings were definitely swinging. Breathe, she reminded herself.
"Can I listen to your heart?" Frasier asked after Elle had pulled herself together.
"Yeah." Elle gingerly unwrapped herself from the blanket.
Dr. Frasier reached out to place the stethoscope over her chest and paused. "Elle."
"Hm?"
"Those are some interesting scars."
Elle looked down at herself, at the light fractal patterns inscribed on her skin. "Oh, the lightning scars. Yeah, those are fine."
" Lightning?"
"Yeah. It's fine, though. The TARDIS cured the arrhythmia."
"And this one?" Frasier asked, gesturing to the bullet scar visible near her shoulder.
Elle sighed. "I got shot and died. That's how I got to this universe."
Frasier looked at O'Neill. "I'm gonna assume that's not the concussion talking?" she asked.
O'Neill shook his head.
"I have proof," Elle said.
"She does," Daniel said tiredly. "We saw the clothes. They're covered in blood."
"Yup," Elle said and dug the two bullets out of her belt pouch. "And, more proof. See? The flatter one is the shoulder. I think it hit bone."
Dr. Frasier took the bullets with a grimace and compared them to the mark on Elle's shoulder. "That's, you should be dead."
Elle couldn't help laughing. "Four times now. I'm starting to think something's up." She accepted the bullets back and dropped them in her pocket. "It's really cold in here."
"Sorry, let's finish up." Frasier held up the stethoscope. "Deep breaths, please."
Elle took deep breaths as the doctor checked her lungs and heart and promptly got lightheaded as a result.
"Sounds okay," Frasier said doubtfully. "Well, besides your concussion and your wrenched shoulder, you're okay."
SG1 was still hanging around. O'Neill spoke up. "Doc, is she okay to sleep it off in quarters?"
"I'd be more comfortable keeping her under observation," Frasier said.
Elle scowled, huddling back into her blanket. "I can't sleep in sickbay. It's too noisy."
"We have some very nice earplugs," Frasier said.
Elle knew a lost cause when she saw one, even with the headache. She sighed. "Yes, ma'am."
Frasier raised an eyebrow at SG1. "You're all fine. You can go. Sam, could you bring our guest here a tray of food?"
Elle blanched at the thought of eating anything. "No food," she spoke up, making a face. "I'll just throw up."
"Okay," Frasier said, rubbing her back. "I'll get you some Gatorade."
"Get some rest," O'Neill said, squeezing Elle's shoulder. He ushered his team out the door.
Frasier drew the privacy curtain around the bed. "Do you think you can get changed, or do you just want to go to sleep?"
"Sleep," Elle said immediately. "Just sleep."
"Okay." The doctor helped her get settled under the blankets and wrapped another blanket around her. "Holler if you get cold or if you feel sick. Someone'll come check on you in a couple of hours."
"Kay," Elle said, and she was asleep before Dr. Frasier even closed the curtain.