By: Nerca
Beyul
CATEGORY: Angst, Drama, AU
SEASON/SPOILERS: Season 9 through “Beachhead” (becomes AU after there)
WARNINGS: Mentions of torture
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Once again, I thought I needed to write a Daniel/Vala story to contribute to the C2… And something that wasn’t fluff. This one definitely isn’t like my funny little “Homecoming” story… But to all who enjoyed that, don’t worry, a sequel’s on the way in a little while. Ok, so I know Vala’s coming back in season 10 in a totally different way from this, but I just had to write my version.
AUTHOR’S WEBSITE:
http://nerca-beyul.livejournal.com/
For some reason, Vala had a bad feeling about this, and after years in her line of work she’d learned to trust those gut feelings. Often they kept her out of trouble… Well, out of deep trouble. She was always in some sort of trouble, regardless of her hunches and preventative measures.
And somewhere in her, a voice was protesting this, and warning her something was going to go wrong.
She tried to tell herself it was because SG-1, just like the other SG teams, hadn’t been on any mission in the past two weeks, as everyone was a little afraid of the Ori’s reaction to Jameson and Vala’s escape. It was feared that the Priors or the Ori would somehow strike out at them on any world they visited, as opposed to their previous indifference to the presence of the Tau’ri. Vala really did try to convince herself she was worried about SG-1’s ability to defend themselves against a determined Prior, but she wasn’t able to deny that that wasn’t all that was on her mind.
On some level, she knew and admitted that she was afraid of being left alone.
And that gut feeling that something was going to go wrong made it much worse.
Still, she sat completely still and said nothing aloud as Sergeant Harriman dialed the Gate. Nor did she protest as he finally said, “Chevron Seven, locked!”
Instead, she watched silently from the control room as SG-1 appeared in the Gateroom below, geared up and ready to go. Mitchell, Sam, Teal’c and Daniel stood, right to left in that order, ready to embark on their first mission in two weeks.
Vala almost felt like they were somehow abandoning her…
“Don’t worry,” a voice said from behind her.
Craning her neck, Vala saw Colonel Jameson standing not far behind her wheelchair, watching the team moving around in the Gateroom as well. Vala noticed her casted arm was no longer held in a sling as Jameson’s focus remained on SG-1 for a few beats. After a moment, she turned and locked gazes with Vala, the tiniest quirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.
“They’ll be back within two hours.”
Vala turned to stare back down at the team, who were slowly headed up the ramp towards the Gate. “Supposedly,” she muttered.
“Almost nothing here ever goes as planned,” Jameson admitted slowly. “But this is just a routine, boring, everyday mission, Vala. It’s not like they’re going all the way to Pegasus or anything.”
Sighing, she nodded. “At least it’s not that. But I still can’t shake the feeling something’s going to go wrong.”
“It’ll be fine,” Jameson assured again.
SG-1 had reached the event horizon by then, and began to pass through. Before he stepped through the Gate, Daniel stopped and turned around. Looking right at Vala—and perhaps Jameson behind her—he offered a light smile and a short wave of his hand before he took the step through the shimmering blue event horizon backwards.
Vala was pleasantly surprised by that. “Did he just--?” she started.
“He did,” Jameson quickly answered before Vala could even finish the question. “He smiled and waved.”
Unable to stop it, a smile spread across Vala’s face. “I thought he did.”
With a sigh, Jameson roller her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head. If it hasn’t already…”
Too late, Vala thought. Aloud, she said, “I won’t, and it hasn’t.”
Raising an eyebrow, Jameson gave a low chuckle. “Yeah, right,” she said sarcastically. “That was a lie.”
Yes, it was. “It most certainly was not!” Vala protested out loud, hiding the untruth behind a well-crafted mask. After all the years she’d spent being a fantastic liar, she wasn’t about to let Marla Jameson be the one who saw through her with such a small, simple lie.
“It most certainly was,” Jameson retorted. “However, I’m not going to argue that point with you.” With her good arm, she began to slowly turn and push Vala’s wheelchair. “It’s past lunch time, and while I’ve already eaten—” There was the tiniest tremor in her voice here that she quickly—though not quickly enough—covered. “—I’m fairly certain you haven’t.”
Before she could say anything, Vala’s stomach growled in acknowledgement.
“Uh-huh. You were so worried about SG-1, you forgot to eat.”
And let’s just hope all of that worrying was in vain, Vala thought as Jameson wheeled her off towards the commissary.
* * * *
The world seemed average enough. P32-1161 sat a little ways out of the normal range of planets visited by the SG teams, but from appearances, it was about the same as several they’d seen before.
Now the climate seemed mild, somewhere around a mid-spring
feel as the sun sat directly overhead, indicating it was around
And here, around the Stargate, there were crumbling stones that seemed to be part of some ancient ruins.
Yep, typical world.
“Doesn’t look like a Prior’s gonna pop out anytime soon here,” Mitchell observed. “Doesn’t even look like there’s any locals in the immediate area.”
“Indeed,” Teal’c agreed.
Daniel’s fingertips trailed along the top of a particularly flat-topped rock of the ruins as he walked past it. “Well, there had to be someone here at some point. The ruins are here for a reason.”
“Well, let’s see if we can find any living civilization before we start examining the dead ones, Jackson,” Mitchell said.
“Fine,” Daniel said a bit reluctantly.
He really would like to examine these ruins a bit. After all, he was an archeologist, and dead civilizations were his specialty. As they were passing out of the ring of ruins, a particular pillar-like statue caught his eye.
Unlike most of the other parts of what was probably a series of small temples that had crumbled all to pieces, this particular pillar had remained mostly unscathed. It stood about ten feet tall, and about three feet wide and deep.
As Daniel squinted curiously at it, he noticed there seemed to be writing etched onto the tall, rectangular stone.
A special form of Ancient writing.
“Hold on a minute, guys,” he said, changing course towards the pillar. “This looks interesting.”
The rest of the team stopped, glancing at him.
“
“Just a minute,” he answered. “This might be able to tell us if there’s anyone left on the planet, and where.”
As soon as he was close enough to really see the inscription, Daniel began reading aloud in its natural tongue. “Qua es augustum eh ambrosium…cicatrix duh Anquietas. Toa absum abesse afuir,” he read slowly. He paused for a moment, and contemplated the words. “Huh.”
After a few beats, Mitchell coughed loudly and suggestively.
Daniel was paying him and the rest of the team—really, the rest of the planet besides the pillar—no attention and completely missed the cue, brow furrowed in thought. What in the world was that inscription supposed to mean?
“
“Oh, right,” Daniel said, suddenly remembering his comrades. “Loosely translated, it means, ‘This is holy and eternal: the scar of the Ancients. You must be away.’ And I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.”
“You must be away?” Sam asked. “Not ‘you must stay away’?”
Daniel re-read the phrase again in its Latin-like Ancient, and again ran the translation through his head. “No, ‘absum abesse afuir’ translates to be away, or be absent. ‘You must be absent’ or ‘you must be away’.”
“Well, then, maybe we should do as the nice stone pillar says, and leave,” Mitchell suggested. “It just might be what got rid of the civilization that was here.”
“I don’t think so,” Daniel said slowly. “It says it’s the scar of the Ancients. The Ancients put it here. Why would they kill off the people of this planet?”
“Well, we’ve seen places where the Ancients have messed up and killed people before,” Sam pointed out. “Maybe it was some malfunction of a technology they were developing, and it had some bad effect on the population. We’ve seen it before. Whatever it was that they did, they probably didn’t do it on purpose.”
“I’m not so sure they did anything,” Daniel responded. Bending down, he checked along the lower half of the pillar for any more writing. After a moment, he spotted a very tiny inscription that ran along one corner all the way to the ground. Again, he read it aloud in Ancient first as he translated the words. “Si praedico devino, adligo laratus eh conecto nexilis. ‘As prophecy foretells, to bind the bound and tie the tied.’”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Mitchell asked.
Frowning at the phrase as he reviewed it, Daniel shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
“Perhaps it is some sort of riddle,” Teal’c suggested.
“Maybe…” Daniel replied. He reached out a hand to brush his fingertips along the thin strand of Ancient letters.
The very moment he touched the pillar, a large zap of electricity passed into him. The shock of it knocked him off of his feet, making him tumble back into the grass as the prickling sting of it coursed throughout his body. It caused his body to jerk and convulse for a moment before it subsided.
The other three members of SG-1 were at his side immediately.
“Daniel!” Sam cried, taking a hold of his arm. “Are you alright?”
He could still feel residue of the shock on his extremities, as they were all tingling, but other than that and a spot on his back he knew would bruise from the fall, he felt just fine.
And he said as much. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Mitchell and Sam pulled him to his feet, and surprisingly, he didn’t even feel the least bit dizzy. The minute he stood, he had his balance despite that constant tingle in his feet and toes.
“Are you sure,
Flexing a bit, Daniel confirmed that nothing really hurt. “Yeah, I’m perfectly fine.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. The nausea and dizziness came out of nowhere, and before he could contradict his own words, the world went black.
* * * *
It came out of absolutely nowhere.
One minute, she was laughing at something Marla had said, the next her body was wracked by convulsions. Her back arched against her wheelchair back, as she cried out in what sounded more like shock than pain to Marla’s ears. Her eyes were wide as her body went through its wild and unexplained spasms…
Almost as if she were being electrocuted.
Immediately, Marla flew out of her chair and to her side. “Vala? Vala, what’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer, but instead continued to arch her spine and jerk with the convulsions. Her teeth gritted and she let out a low groan.
Heads turned immediately from everywhere else around the commissary as all attention focused on Vala’s mysterious behavior.
“Medical team, stat!” Marla called. “We need some help here!”
Her attention turned back to Vala, who was still convulsing as her good arm gripped the side of the wheelchair. Not knowing what else to do, Marla seized a hold of her shoulders and tried to stop the shaking. After one particularly rough spasm, Vala’s breath caught and she sputtered before sucking in a deep breath.
And then her shoulders slumped and her eyes closed.
Unconscious.
Letting go of her shoulders, Marla’s fingers went to Vala’s neck to check for a pulse. She could feel it strongly, but it was erratic and had no discernable beat.
It was then that the medical team decided to show up and transfer Vala to a stretcher.
Somewhere he could hear the faint, rhythmical sounds of what he thought might be hospital monitors. One did have the oddly sharp sound of a heart monitor, a constantly annoying chirp that set the beat for the harmony—though the noises didn’t really blend as a harmony so much as just synchronize themselves. When his sleep-fogged brain finally came around enough to understand what he thought it was that he was hearing, he wondered why in the galaxy he’d be asleep in a hospital.
Then, ever so slowly, the memory of passing out on P32-1161 returned to him.
Not a hospital, he thought. The SGC infirmary. Sam, Mitchell and Teal’c must’ve brought me back through the Stargate.
When he opened his eyes, light harshly assaulted him, and he reflexively pulled his eyelids back across them tightly. After a moment, he gradually opened his eyes again, and let them slowly adjust to the brightness.
After they did, things were still blurry—Daniel wondered where his glasses had gone—but he still recognized the SGC infirmary around him. Leaning back against the pillow on his bed, he gave a sigh of relief.
Doctor Lam appeared over him and offered his glasses back to him. “How’re you feeling, Doctor Jackson?” she asked.
Daniel set the glasses back on his face. “Alright,” he responded. “But I have—”
“—a splitting headache,” finished a familiar, almost Australian voice.
Startled, Daniel propped himself up on an elbow and looked over to the neighboring bed from whence the statement had come. His eyes found what he expected. Vala gave a monstrous grin, and Daniel could practically feel the glee coming from her.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me for long,” she said.
Astounded Daniel glanced back to Doctor Lam.
She shrugged, and cleared her throat before saying, “Around the time Colonel Carter indicated you touched the stone pillar on P36-1161, Vala began experiencing extreme and sudden convulsions—”
“Right in the middle of the commissary!” Vala chimed in. “I must applaud your impeccable timing, Daniel.”
“—and then passed out,” Lam continued, not in the least distracted by the other woman’s interruption. “She was brought here, and we found that her blood pressure was high and her body was going into shock. We couldn’t find any reason why it should be happening either. Until, about five minutes later, Teal’c and Colonel Mitchell dragged you through the Stargate in the same condition. Colonel Carter explained what happened—and about the inscription on the stone pillar, as well. She theorized that the jolt given by the pillar somehow captured the residue of your bond, and reawakened it. So we brought you in too, and both of you stabilized. But you’ve both been out,” she glanced at her watch, “for about an hour.”
“Oh, my God,” Daniel muttered, smacking a hand to his forehead. “Oh, no.. ‘As prophecy fortells, to bind the bound and tie the tied.’ I should’ve known!” He fell back against his pillow, covering his face with his palms.
“Doctor Jackson?” Lam prompted. “There’s more.”
Spreading his fingers, Daniel looked at the physician through them. What more could there possibly be?
“We—Colonel Carter and I—have speculated that the bond might have strengthened,” she said slowly. “A lot. Before, you could only be apart for about an hour without being affected. When you touched the pillar on P36-1161 and reawakened the bond, you both fell unconscious within the space of a minute. It may have been due to the electricity itself, but we’re skeptical about that since it didn’t happen directly after the electrocution.”
Very uncharacteristically, Daniel spat a strong Chinese curse under his breath. If last time with Vala had been frustrating with her constant need to annoy him, now it’d be torturous since he couldn’t even stay away from her for any sizeable length of time.
“Now,
At the sound of a drawl-tainted voice, Daniel noticed Jameson now standing near the ends of his and Vala’s beds. One of her auburn eyebrows was arched at him, and a flush rose to Daniel’s cheeks as he realized that the colonel probably had understood what he’d just said.
Vala immediately noticed his blushing, and looked at Jameson expectantly. “Ooh, what’d he say?”
A smile quirked the edges of Jameson’s mouth, but she firmly shook her head. “I won’t repeat it.” When Vala raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth again, Jameson quickly added, “In any language.”
Vala’s eyes widened as Daniel smacked his hands across his face again. “Ooh, it was that bad?” she asked.
“I said I won’t repeat it,” was Jameson’s short reply.
“Which means, I’m not gonna repeat it. Or tell you
anything whatsoever pertaining to what
Daniel hoped that this time Lee could find some way to break the bond between himself and Vala. If it was strengthened, though, he doubted anyone would be able to do anything.
He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that.
* * * *
Watching from a corner of Lab 6 as Doctor Lee hooked the
“happy couple” to a few monitors, Marla couldn’t help but smile internally at
And Vala, of course, was completely excited about the whole thing.
For her, being bound to Daniel once more meant that she was never bored again, as she had been very frequently lately. He’d be unable to go off-world now that he was bound to the injured Vala… Which meant that she really could be with him almost all the time.
Which, Marla knew, amused her to no end.
“Now, this is an electro encephalograph and it’s going to monitor your brainwaves so we can determine the response to various stimuli…” Lee stated, indicating the wires that attached to small monitors on both Daniel and Vala’s heads, then into a laptop computer. “Which should help us figure out a way to…break the bond, if that’s at all possible. And comparing it to the old readings I have from last time—” Daniel rolled his eyes and Vala grinned. “—we can see how much has changed.”
He turned to the laptop, and hit a few keys. Instantly, a frown creased the doctor’s face, and he tapped at a few more keys.
“Something wrong, Lee?” Marla asked, walking to peer over his shoulder at the computer. “You’re looking awfully concerned there.”
“Irregular wave patterns,” the scientist muttered, transfixed by the display on the computer screen. Marla stared at them, then raised an eyebrow at Lee. He caught the hint and traced a finger across the wavering lines on the screen. “Brain wave patterns are unique to each individual, and vary greatly. But if you look, here,” he pointed to a particular wavy line on the half of the screen displaying Vala’s brainwaves, “and then compare it to this,” his finger traced a place on Daniel’s display, “you can see the same pattern running through them.”
Marla had to admit that the moving lines were following a similar pattern in the place Lee had indicated.
“Same thing here,” he added, indicating a place on Daniel’s display, then where a similar line pulsed on Vala’s.
“What does that mean?” Daniel asked.
Lee took a moment to stroke his chin thoughtfully before he said, “I think this bond is running deeper than anyone realized.” He ignored the look Daniel shot him, and hurried over to the phone on the wall, tapping a few buttons before speaking into it. “Can we get Doctor Lam down to Lab 6?” he asked. “And Doctor Conners,” he added after a moment’s hesitation.
For a moment, Marla just blinked in surprise at the names Lee had just called. “The physician and the psychiatrist?” she inquired. “Calling in the experts?”
“Why?” Vala asked slowly.
“Lee, what does that mean?” Daniel repeated, jabbing a finger at the laptop.
The scientist didn’t answer any of the questions directed at him as he hung up the phone.
“Doctor Lam and Doctor Conners to Lab Six,” Sergeant Harriman’s voice echoed on the speakers throughout the base. “Doctor Lam and Doctor Conners to Lab Six.”
“Lee!” Daniel practically shouted, definitely catching the scientist’s attention this time. Marla suppressed a smile as Daniel jabbed a finger at the computer again. “What does that mean?”
Blinking a moment, Lee finally said, “I’m not sure yet.”
“About what?” asked Doctor Lam from the doorway. Behind her stood Doctor Conners, the SGC’s resident psychiatrist.
Doctor Lee beckoned them both over with a wave of his hand, and both women came to stand by the table where the laptop computer sat. Standing behind them, Marla craned her neck over Conners’ short, blond head to look at the display again, even though she’d already seen it.
Tracing a finger over the waving lines, Lee pointed out the similar brainwave patterns. After saying some big psychological mumbo-jumbo that Marla didn’t understand or pay attention to, all three doctors remained silent.
“Uh…what does this mean?” Daniel prompted after a moment.
“It means—and could mean—a number of things,” Lam said.
Doctor Conners cleared her throat. “Foremost, that you’re now bonded on the psychological level. Before, it was only on a physiological level. This is much deeper than it was before, and than anyone expected.” She paused for a moment, letting that sink in. “And it might mean that you’re…in each other’s heads, for lack of a better term.”
Daniel and Vala exchanged a bewildered glance. “What?” they chorused.
“Have you been hearing odd things in your minds?” Conners continued. “Or any faint noises in your thoughts?”
Both Daniel and Vala’s jaws dropped, then they quickly agreed, “Yes!”
Doctor Conner began pacing. “Interesting…”
“Doctor Conners…” Daniel started. “How is this possible? How can we be expected to get along being in each other’s minds?”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Lee spoke up. “You’re going to have to get along.”
Slumping back in his seat, Daniel covered his face with his hands. “Oh, great. Psychologically bonded, and in each other’s heads, and we have no choice!”
“I did notice that your heartbeats are in sync,” Doctor Lam put in. “Beating at once. At first, I thought it was just coincidence. But now, I’m not so sure it is. I think you’re likely bonded physiologically too, but much more so than last time.”
“Even better!” Vala spoke up.
Daniel shot her a glare, but didn’t say anything.
Marla noted that this was going to be a very interesting week.
Oh, this had been one a
hell of a week.
Through testing, it’d
been determined that the maximum range that Daniel and Vala
could have for any length of time was a mere forty feet. If it was pushed any
further, both began to feel dizzy, then disoriented and finally, after about
twenty minutes, both fainted simultaneously.
That irked Daniel to no
end, but greatly pleased Vala.
“We’re inseparable,
darling,” she’d said with a grin.
The glee had only grown
when she realized—and pointed out—that their previous sleeping arrangements
would no longer work. The forty feet the bond allowed didn’t cover the space
between Daniel’s quarters and the area of the infirmary where Vala had been staying. And there were no available quarters
that close to the infirmary, and Vala was unable to
stay by herself in her condition.
And so it happened that
they wound up having to share a room.
At Daniel’s absolute
demand, the room’s queen sized bed was exchanged for a pair of twin-sized ones.
Not that it made all that much difference. On the morning after the two had been
first forced together, Daniel appeared exhausted, as though he had slept little
or none.
Which didn’t surprise
anyone. Especially Marla.
She, having been around Vala for the past three weeks, had seen firsthand how the
lack of sleep was making the archeologist even more irritable than he already
was with Vala. She found it entertaining most of the
time, but after the day she was forced to pick her “new team,” Marla had a very
short temper and found Daniel and Vala’s constant
bickering extremely irritating.
* * * *
For reasons Marla never
voiced, Lieutenant Colonel Kylie Skinner, Lieutenant James Oliander
and Doctor Randy Thrace all annoyed her. They were all top of the class sort of
folks, and in Marla’s opinion, the best of the best among the personnel files
Landry had given her. Even so, the two Air Force officers and the physicist
irritated her. The “new SG-6” knew that she disliked them, but none of them
asked why, never even mentioning her snappish mood and temperament with them.
Whether they had it figured out or not, Marla didn’t care.
They knew they were
detested by their CO, and not for their personal selves.
During their first
meeting, Marla didn’t even bother faking a smile, but shook their hands with a
completely straight face. Her grip was firm, and she measured the firmness of
Skinner, Oliander and
None of theirs were as
tight as hers, but they were all solid enough.
Skinner and Oliander, being experience Air Force officers, kept their
mouths mostly shut during the meeting. However, Doctor
“It will be a pleasure
serving with you, Colonel Jameson,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Marla raised an eyebrow,
and Skinner glared at the scientist. Her stare clearly told
“Wish I could say the
same,” Marla murmured to herself, moving on. To the men and woman, she said,
“We have one week until I get my cast off and into physical therapy. Another
week after that, and I’ll be back on active duty. You three have that first
week of training together, and the second to train with me.” She sighed
inwardly. “Then we’re off to save the galaxy repeatedly from really evil bad
guys who double-talk way too much. You’ll get used to it.”
* * * *
It’d been like this all
week. He was getting no work at all done with her sitting around to
bother him. And with her thoughts around to annoy the hell out of his brain.
But of course, she couldn’t go anywhere because of the bond. Daniel
started hoping when she picked up one of his books and began reading, staying
silent for five minutes.
He hoped in vain.
“Dan-iel!”
Vala whined. “Let’s go down to the commissary now.
I’m hungry.”
Daniel groaned. “Vala, we just ate breakfast an hour and a half ago,” he
responded. “We don’t—”
“No. Now.”
He could feel across
their bond that she wasn’t going to give this one up. With a sigh, Daniel got
up from his desk and made his way around it to grip the handlebars of Vala’s wheelchair. “Fine,” he agreed. “We’ll go now.”
He pushed the chair out of the room and into the hall.
“Yay!”
Vala said triumphantly. “Thank you, Daniel!”
“You’re welcome,” he
grumbled reflexively.
As Daniel wheeled Vala along down the hallway, towards the commissary, he
noted that the corridors were uncommonly empty for this time of day. He paid it
no mind, however, and moved on to the commissary anyway. When they came to the
doors of the commissary, he noted with a frown that no light was coming through
the windows set in the upper part of the doors. Odd, he thought. Curious, he
stopped Vala’s wheelchair and walked around it to
push open the door. He poked his head into the room and for a moment, just
stared.
There was absolute
darkness beyond the door, where a usually well-lit room should have been.
He frowned. That was—
Suddenly, the darkness
was banished by a bright light that revealed a ton of people, all grinning.
“Surprise!” they yelled
in unison.
Daniel could only blink
at the group of people standing before him, still grinning, as he was
completely and totally speechless. Today was—?
“Happy Birthday, Daniel.”
He turned around to see
that Vala was grinning too, wrinkling her scared face
all the way up to the corners of her gray eyes as she spoke. He found himself smiling
back at her as he felt her pride echo into his mind.
“You mean today is my
birthday?” he asked.
“Yep,” she said shortly.
“July 8th.”
Daniel’s brow creased
slightly as he continued to smile. “Huh. I didn’t even remember.”
“Obviously,” Vala responded.
“Well, isn’t that just
like you. Completely forgetting important dates and all.”
Turning at the familiar
voice, Daniel was once again surprised. There, smiling just like all of the
other people standing around, was his best friend.
“Jack!”
“In the flesh,” his
friend responded.
Daniel brought him in for
a very quick hug, not having seen Jack in several months. “You flew all the way
in from
Jack nodded. “Especially
for you. The man who forgot his own birthday.”
“Speaking of which, don’t
forget a certain someone!” Vala practically
yelled from behind Daniel.
He quickly whirled around
again, remembering that he had indeed forgotten Vala
at the door. Gripping the handles of the wheelchair again, he began pushing it
across the room, following a few steps behind Jack as the general made his way
toward a table atop which sat a plain cake. He offered Vala
a short apology.
“You planned all of
this?” he asked her.
“I helped, but it was
actually Sam who put everything together,” Vala
responded. “She also helped me pick out your present.”
Daniel stopped. “You got
me a present?” he asked slowly.
Vala’s face broke out into a huge grin.
“Of course.” She drew a small box wrapped in bright paper from behind her back
and proudly handed it to Daniel. “Chosen especially for you.” When he just held
it in his palm for a moment, she added, “Go ahead! Open it!”
Quickly unwrapping and
opening the box, Daniel found a glasses case inside. He opened it too,
revealing a nice, but simple pair of spectacles. Definitely his style, too.
Greatly surprised, all Daniel could do was stare at them for a long moment.
“To replace the ones I
broke,” Vala explained. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
“Oh, Vala…”
Daniel breathed. Removing the old glasses and setting them in the case, Daniel
placed the new ones on his face. He found that he could see perfectly through
them. He wondered how Vala had gotten a hold of his
prescription, but decided not to ask. “Thank you.”
Vala beamed. “You’re welcome. Happy
birthday.”
Suddenly a thought
occurred to him. “Uh, Vala… Who—?”
“Marla,” she answered
before he even finished the question. “When we went shopping for my clothes,
Sam mentioned your birthday and Marla suggested I get you something. And
offered to pay for it.”
Daniel’s eyebrows rose in
surprise as his eyes scanned across the gathered guests for the mentioned
colonel. He finally caught sight of her short reddish hair as she moved towards
the door.
“Excuse me for a moment,”
he hastily said, leaving Vala and her wheelchair by
the cake table as he hurried towards the disappearing colonel. He knew even
without the bond that she was acting disgusted and muttering about being left
right after she gave him a present, but he didn’t turn around to respond,
rushing after Jameson.
Geez, for a woman who just recovered
from a sprained ankle, she sure moves fast! Daniel thought, practically running through the crowd of
people smiling and telling him “Happy birthday!” to catch up with the colonel.
He finally got close
enough to call out her name when he passed outside of the commissary doors and
into the empty hallway. “Jameson, wait!” he yelled.
Already halfway down the
corridor, the colonel stopped and turned around, raising an eyebrow at him.
For a moment, the words
stuck in Daniel’s throat. “Uh, thanks, Jameson,” he finally said. He paused,
then corrected himself. “Marla.”
He could practically see
her force herself not to snap at the use of her first name, and was surprised
when she instead said, “For what?”
“Everything,” he
immediately answered. Realizing that that probably wasn’t the best description
he could’ve given, Daniel added, “For taking care of Vala,
and being her friend. And for paying for her clothes and everything. And for
paying for my gift.” He tapped the side of his new glasses lightly. “Even if Vala didn’t say something, I know she’s thankful for what
you’ve done.”
Jameson opened her mouth,
then closed it again. She was quiet for a moment before saying, “I know. And
you’re both welcome.” With that, she turned and walked away down the hall.
Since when does
Jameson do things like this? Daniel wondered for a moment. But, after that short lapse, he
shook off the thought and returned to his birthday party.
CHAPTER
14: Entrance
“Unscheduled off-world activation!”
The words seemed to echo through the
halls of the SGC more and more often these days, no one—save the
General—hurried to the control room every time Harriman shouted the words
anymore, as they had done in years past. It happened too often lately for
anyone to be excited by it.
Always, a team was coming back early
and hot, or the
Never any major trouble anymore.
Little did anyone know, today’s alert
was going to be quite different.
* * * *
Landry was absent from
And so when Harriman’s alert of
“Unscheduled off-world activation!” resounded in the hallways of the SGC, no
one at all was sent running to the control room. Just happening to be walking
by the corridor that lead to the control room at that moment, Marla decided,
with a sigh, that she should just go and see what was going on this time.
After all, with no General around,
someone had to make Harriman feel needed.
“What’s up, Sergeant?” she asked upon
entering the control room. She glanced up through the glass and noted that the
Gate’s iris was already closed.
“No IDC as of yet, ma’am,” Harriman
responded. “But the wormhole just opened, so we’re waiting.”
After a moment, Marla began to frown,
but she deliberately stopped herself from asking the question right off. But
when the wormhole had remained open for five minutes and nothing at all had
come through—neither radio signal, nor anything striking the still-closed
iris—she glanced at the readouts around her.
“If nothing’s coming through,
shouldn’t it be closing down?” she asked.
Harriman was frowning too. “Yes,
ma’am, it should be. But it isn’t.”
“Someone dialing in to prevent us
from using the Gate to escape?” Marla inquired, even though she doubted this
was the case.
“Nothing on deep space sensors,
ma’am,” a tech spoke up. “Prometheus
is in orbit, and it hasn’t reported anything either. Nothing’s out there,
ma’am.”
Oh, God,
this sounds familiar, she mused
silently. She was quite capable of remembering the escapade three and a half
years ago, when this same exact thing had happened. But Marla knew that this
wasn’t being caused by the device that Anubis had
used against them years ago. Not only had it been destroyed, so had Anubis.
And some gut feeling whispered to her
that it was the Ori causing this.
“Story of the SGC, eh?” she said,
trying to alleviate the bit of tension that had silently set in over the techs
in the room. “It shouldn’t be, but it is.” She sighed. “Look for the tiny power
flux that we found last time this happened. That should tell us if it’s the
same weapon.”
After a moment, one of the techs
shakily announced, “Colonel Jameson, we can’t find anything at all coming
through. Even that small.”
Marla took in a deep breath. “Okay.
Harriman, try and shut it down.”
The tech obediently tapped a few keys
on his board. When nothing happened, he repeated the action. He looked up to
Marla with a slightly less than surprised expression on his face. “It won’t
shut down, ma’am.”
“Well, then. I think we have a
problem.” She switched almost immediately into command mode. “If it stays open
for five more minutes, put the base into lockdown. When it exceeds thirty-eight
minutes, put out a distress call. Right now, page Colonel Carter and have her
come up here to take a look at things.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harriman said with a
tight nod.
Turning, Marla faced the glass
window, staring at the Stargate below. She grasped her good hand and cast
together behind her back in a military stance trained into her body after so
many years.
This could
be just what I’ve been hoping for,
she thought. Handle this little
crisis, and the Air Force has no choice but to promote me again. I’ll be
General Jameson soon.
“Colonel Carter to the control room,
Colonel Carter to the control room.”
Marla glanced down at her watch. The
Gate had been open for eight minutes, and still nothing had come through. She
glanced back up at the Stargate itself, noting that it looked so perfectly
normal.
The sound of footsteps reached her
ears, and Marla turned to find not only Carter entering the room, but also Daniel,
pushing Vala’s wheelchair in front of him. Marla felt
her eyes narrow the tiniest bit. It probably wasn’t the best idea to have a
pair of useless civilians hanging around at the moment. Had it been anyone
other than Daniel and Vala, she would’ve immediately
ordered them out.
“Where’s the rest of the band?” Marla
asked sarcastically.
Daniel didn’t seem to notice the
sarcasm. Marla guessed it was from years spent with Jack O’Neill. “Teal’c and
Colonel Mitchell are on Dekara,” he answered. He
paused, taking in the tense mood around the control room. “What’s going on?”
“Well, we have a problem,” Marla
responded.
Carter raised an eyebrow. “What kind of problem?” she asked.
Taking another deep breath, Marla
glanced over her shoulder at the Gate, then back to the lieutenant colonel.
“The Gate has been open for almost ten minutes, and nothing at all has come
through. Not even the tiniest power feed like when Anubis
attacked three years ago. And it won’t shut down, either.”
Carter had already walked over and
dropped herself into one of the tech’s chairs. “Oh. That kind of problem.” Her fingers flew across keys, bringing up
diagnostics as her eyes scanned over them.
Marla glanced to her watch. “Ten
minutes. Harriman?”
He nodded, and began the base’s
lockdown procedure.
“What’s he doing?” Vala asked, eyeing the sergeant.
“Putting us in lockdown,” Marla
answered, once again assuming her position by the glass. “We’ve got a
situation, and I don’t want to open up whatever’s wrong here to the rest of the
world.”
“Well, who put you in charge, Miss
High and Mighty?” Vala asked.
Marla’s eyes sparked fire over her
shoulder at Vala. “The United States Air Force,” she
snapped. “I’m one of three colonels currently in this base, making me a ranking
military officer. And of those three, I’m the only one even attempting to deal
with this predicament.” Her jaw set as she gazed harshly over her shoulder at
everyone in the room. “If any of you have a problem with that, then I suggest
you get out, and you get out right now.”
No one so much as flinched.
“That’s what I thought.” She turned
her head to gaze at the Gate again, attempting—and succeeding—to project a
false air of coolness. Inside, she was worried that her rash behavior might
have affected everyone’s respect for her. She took in a deep breath, keeping
the mask of indifference firmly on her face. “Sergeant?”
“The base is locked down, ma’am,”
Harriman responded.
“Goo—”
Marla began when the sight below in the Gateroom cut
her off.
The metal iris slowly wound open, and
she stared at it wide-eyed for a moment before her head whipped around.
“Harriman!”
The tech was also staring, wide-eyed
at the Stargate, his mouth slightly agape. He turned to Marla with his
expression still quite shocked. “I didn’t do it!” he insisted.
Marla’s glare traveled to the other
techs, but they all shook their heads.
“Try and close it!” she ordered.
Switching to the intercom, she instructed the Gateroom
security team to stand ready. And to shoot anything at all that came through
the event horizon.
“Ma’am, we can’t close the iris,”
Carter spoke up. “None of the Gate controls are responding at all.”
“Okay.” Marla sighed inwardly. “I
think our problem just got—”
The electricity unexplainably blinked
off around them.
“—worse.”
Emerald eyes quickly scanned across the
room, noting that every computer screen had gone blank, to everyone’s great
alarm. And, to Marla’s personal fright, the only light came from the rippling
blue surface of the wormhole. After sighing, the techs glanced up to the
Stargate, and all grimaced.
Well, now they knew pulling the plug
wasn’t going to work.
“Much worse,” Marla corrected
herself.
“Back-up power should kick in soon,
right?” Daniel asked. Immediately after the words left his mouth, the dim
emergency lights came on, followed by the computers. “Well, I guess that
answers my question.”
“Harriman, put the base on full
alert—no details—and get Siler down here to check out the power,” Marla
immediately ordered as the computer screens began refilling with data. “On
second thought, hold up on the call. Wait until after the Gate shuts down, then
get Siler down here. And Carter, make sure nothing’s still coming through.”
“Yes, ma’am,” both answered, setting
about their assignments.
Marla glanced down at her watch
again. “Twenty-seven minutes,” she announced. “Time leaks away.”
“Attention!” Harriman’s voice echoed
throughout the base. “We have a situation.” He went on with the announcement of
high alert, but.
After a moment, Carter spoke up.
“Colonel Jameson? Something is
coming through now.”
Marla immediately frowned. “What is
it?”
“It looks like some form of energy,”
Carter answered. “Just pure energy. Very small amount, though. If we weren’t
putting things under such tight scrutiny now, we would have missed it
completely.”
“Thank God for small favors,” Marla
muttered absently. Coming to stand behind Carter, Marla looked over the
lieutenant colonel’s shoulder at the computer screen. “It’s not doing anything,
is it?”
“Not that we can detect, ma’am,”
Carter replied.
Head cocking to the side, Marla raised
an eyebrow. “Odd.”
“Yes, ma’am it is,” the
astrophysicist agreed. “But it might just be some form of malfunction in the
Gate itself due to the stress it’s currently under.”
“Keep an eye on it just the same,”
Marla ordered before turning to walk back to her previous position near the
window of security glass. She felt a strong, gnawing premonition forming in her
gut as she stared at the customary blue surface of the wormhole below. An
unexplained impulse pressed her to say, “Harriman, page SG-6. I want them down
here too.”
For a moment, the sergeant just
stared at her. “Ma’am?” he inquired, as if asking, “Are you sure?”
“Do it, Sergeant,” she ordered
firmly. “Call Colonel Skinner, Lieutenant Oliander,
and Doctor
The tech nodded just as firmly as his
commanding officer had spoken. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. His voice then rang out
on the base-wide speakers. “Colonel Skinner, Lieutenant Oliander,
and Doctor
Closing her eyes and sighing deeply,
Marla turned her back to the Gate. When she opened them, she was looking back
into a little corner of the control room where an occupied wheelchair was
parked, out of the way. In it, Vala sat quietly, good
hand folded over the casted one in her lap. She
almost immediately noticed Marla looking at her, and locked gazes with her.
Silently, Marla moved to Vala’s side, and crouched down beside her.
“Marla, do you think something big is
going to happen?” Vala asked quietly.
She hesitated, feeling some strange
need to lie to soften the experience for her friend. After that moment of
uncertainty, she decided to hedge around the issue. “Well, something’s always
happening here,” she said. “Nothing ever seems to run smoothly, no matter how
much we all want it to. We’ve all gotten used to it, though.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Vala said flatly.
No, I
didn’t. Again, the colonel
hesitated before answering. This time, though, she decided on the truth. “Yes,
I do think something’s going to happen,” she murmured quietly. “I have a gut
feeling about it.”
“Well, then,” Vala
said, with a light sigh. “I wonder—”
“Colonel Jameson!” Carter’s voice
interrupted. “We have something. A radio signal is coming through the wormhole
now.”
Marla was back to her feet and across
the room in seconds. “Well, let’s hear it then.”
“Patching it through…” Carter said,
tapping the keys again.
Seconds later, a familiarly toned
voice rang out from the speakers around the control room. “Those that dare
oppose the Ori will be punished with death,” the
Prior’s voice flatly intoned. “And those that defy them have their days
numbered. Their insolence will not be endured. Those called Colonel Marla
Jameson and Vala Mal Doran shall soon feel the depth
of the Ori’s wrath, and their lives shall end on this
day.”
Everyone sat silently after the
Prior’s short speech finished. Marla was frozen with fear, despite everything
in her yelling not to be frightened. Her eyes were wide and she had to force
herself to breath.
“End radio signal,” Carter announced
quietly.
Every ounce of strength came rushing
back to Marla then, and she gave a determined grunt. Let the Prior come. She
would fight him with her bare hands if need be. Well, bare hand and cast.
Even so determined, she knew that the
Ori were a foe that they were continually
underestimating, and she didn’t intend to do so again.
“Harriman, give the evacuation order
for levels twenty-eight through twenty-three,” she determinedly ordered. “I
want everyone out of here but
those of us in this room and the team in the Gateroom.”
She checked her watch, and noted that thirty-one minutes had elapsed since the
wormhole first opened. “They all have five minutes to clear out, and then
you’re going to start closing blast doors. Seal this area like an airlock. No
one’s coming in, and nothing’s getting out.”
Harriman nodded firmly, though Marla
thought she read fear in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
The cold emerald eyes that were such
a deep part of her reputation traveled around the room, landing shortly on the
face of every tech. “Anyone who wants to leave needs to do so now. In five minutes, you’ll all have
no choice.”
For a moment, the room was frozen and
not one person dared even flinch under the colonel’s intense gaze. Then, slowly
as common sense likely grabbed a hold of him and banished his fear of his
commanding officer, one young tech stood, removed his headset, and walked away.
Marla half expected for everyone to stand and follow, but no one else so much
as flinched.
She nodded firmly. “Good. Now give
the evacuation order.”
She turned as Harriman began
announcing the evacuation, and to her great surprise, saw that Daniel and Vala remained.
“Should you two really stay here?”
Marla asked.
Vala’s jaw set determinedly. “The Prior spoke my
name right beside yours. I have just as much right to be here as you do.”
One auburn eyebrow arched. “I’m not
in a wheelchair.”
“No,” Vala
conceded, “but you are in a
cast.”
“Touché,” Marla murmured, tipping her
head slightly as she accepted the point. She considered mentioning that Vala wasn’t the one in command here, but decided not even
that fact would not sway the dark-haired thief. Instead, she turned to Daniel.
“
He too, stood firm. “Wherever Vala goes, I go.”
Marla knew what he meant, but still
arched an eyebrow at him.
“Yes, he’s like an obedient little
puppy,” Vala quipped, grinning. “Following me everywhere I go.”
“Hey!” Daniel protested, glaring at Vala. “I am definitely not your puppy. And I do not willingly follow you everywhere.”
Unable to resist, Marla muttered,
“Shut-up,
“I do not!” Daniel strongly disagreed. “The only reason I—”
“Colonel Jameson?” Sergeant Harriman
interrupted. “What about SG-6, ma’am? Should they evacuate too, or should they
still come down here?”
Marla considered it for only a
moment. “I want them here. But tell them to go to the armory first. I want them
here fully armed.” To herself,
she quietly added, “Not that it’ll help us any.”
Harriman gave a short nod and relayed
the order. While he did, everyone else was still, and after he quieted, the
room was completely silent. The room was so noiseless, one could have heard the
proverbial pin drop.
Finally, Harriman announced,
“Evacuation complete. Excluding the people in this room, and SG-6 in the
armory, levels twenty-eight through twenty-three are empty.”
“Good. Begin closing and locking all blast doors,” she ordered. “Start
by sealing level twenty-three off, then slowly work down towards the Gateroom. And, of course, leave a path from the armory back
here open. And one of the Gateroom blast doors too,”
she added, glancing down to the security team still standing ready.
Thank God
they’re so steady, Marla thought,
making an uncharacteristic mental note to thank them later.
Announcing the numbers as he went,
Harriman slowly sealed off levels twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five,
twenty-six, and twenty-seven.
“Sealing sub-level twenty-eight,” he
announced finally.
Marla checked her watch once more.
“And not a moment too soon. Thirty-seven minutes, and counting. Almost at the
moment of truth.”
“So this is it,” Vala
murmured.
“This is it,” everyone agreed in unison.
Moving back to her position by the
window and assuming her rigid stance, Marla nodded curtly. “This is it.”
The very moment the words left her
mouth, the electricity once again shut down around them. This time though, the
emergency power was what shut down, leaving them nothing at all to fall back
on. The Stargate, as before, remained open and shimmering.
“That was not a coincidence,” she urgently observed. Alarmed, she quickly
ordered the security team in the Gateroom to move
into the next room so that they might be shielded by at least one blast door.
“Ma’am, with no power, I can’t
remotely lock down the rest of the blast-doors,” Harriman said urgently.
“Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious,”
Marla snapped sarcastically, “I never would—”
In front of them, the blue wormhole
surface began rippling harsher, and below, even the security team stopped to
turn around and stare. Every eye was fixed on the Stargate everyone just
waiting for it to produce a Prior. But then the color of the event horizon
abruptly changed from a bright, medium-toned blue to a light, almost white one,
as it usually did right before closing. A cheer started in everyone’s throats.
Everyone but Marla’s.
Only by the feeling burning deep in
her gut did she know this was not what they were all hoping for.
A desperate shriek left her mouth
instead of an excited cheer of victory. “Everyone, DOWN!” she thundered.
Below, instead of shrinking as the
wormhole closed, the bright circle inside the Stargate’s
rim grew rapidly outward, expanding at an unnaturally fast rate until it
completely filled the Gateroom with its mass. Every
inch of the wide room was covered by the bright glow and every wall was
scorched as it spewed forth.
Marla turned and threw herself to the
floor just as the wide glass window blew inwards.
PART
15: Emergency
The sound alone was completely horrible. A low whine started somewhere when the energy swirl first sprang out from the Gate, but as it impacted against walls and worked its way across the Gateroom, it began developing more towards a rumble.
But the moment it touched the window, it was a full-blown BOOM.
At Jameson’s shout, Daniel flung himself towards the floor, reflexively covering his head and neck with his arms. But the minute he struck the ground, he realized that Vala’s wheelchair, two feet away, was not out of the path of the debris soaring towards them. Rocking back and forth, Vala was trying viciously to tip her chair over so it might shield her, but was having no luck. The seconds seemed to draw out to minutes as Daniel stretched himself out as far as he could, and pushed as hard as he could against the wheelchair.
It wobbled, but he gave a sharp shove and it began to fall.
Shards of the thick security glass flew across the room in every direction, ripping through anything stood in its path.
But with his arms outstretched to push the wheelchair, Daniel’s head and neck were no longer covered or protected. He felt sharp, burning line of pain across the back of his neck as the point of a glass shard cut through the skin there. He didn’t even have the pained shout out of his mouth before another one tore across his right forearm and then his left, followed by one that skimmed across his back.
His eyes closed against the pain, as the one in his back stopped to embed itself in his shoulder.
They abruptly flew open again at the familiar, blood-curdling shriek from beside him. In that instant after hearing the sound and before he registered what it was he saw before him, the memories flooded his mind.
Her charred body leaning against his, still warm in his arms. The tears that he wouldn’t allow to fall.
Her blood seeping through her clothes and his, onto his skin. Her coughing in his ear as she tried to choke out her last words.
But after that moment of absolute terror and panic passed, he finally saw what it was he’d been staring at. Three pieces of glass had punctured the back of Vala’s wheelchair and had stuck themselves into her side.
Not even taking the time to notice whether or not the glass had stopped raining down, or if the swirl of energy had stopped, Daniel was on his feet and standing over Vala. He would not let her die again.
Laying on the floor behind her chair, body still halfway curled in a sitting-like position, Vala’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and her breathing was a tad erratic. Hair had fallen across her face and Daniel reached down to push it back.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, Daniel, I’m just fantastic!” Vala snapped. “No, of course not! Look at me! I’ve got glass sticking out of my side! How do you think I am!”
“Stupid question,” Daniel muttered to himself. He changed position so he could survey the rest of Vala’s position. “Well, other than that glass, are you fine? No glass elsewhere?”
“No glass elsewhere,” she tautly affirmed. Then she looked up at Daniel’s face, and he saw that her eyes blazed with anger. “The pieces still sticking out of my side are enough for me! Could you get them out! Like NOW?”
“I’m probably not the best person to do that,” Daniel replied. He turned, looking over the rest of the group.
On the far side of the room, Jameson, Sam, and Harriman were curled under the control console. The sergeant was completely covered by the jutting control board, but both women were only partially protected. As they slowly uncurled, Daniel saw that a haphazard rows of long glass shards protruded from Jameson’s back and arms (some looked deeply lodged in her cast), and Sam’s legs. The colonel appeared mostly unaffected as she slowly stood, only hissing lightly in pain, but when Sam sat up, she gasped and wrapped her hands around one thigh.
Apparently not noticing, Jameson just turned to look down at the Gateroom.
“Still on, but calm,” she announced.
Daniel’s eyes continued to sweep around the room and settled on the last occupant: a tech laying flat on the ground, unmoving, a particularly long and nasty-looking piece of glass protruding from the center of his back. Harriman scrambled to his feet, and was by the fallen man’s side quicker than Daniel would have thought possible. The sergeant opened his mouth to speak the man’s name, but he was cut off by Jameson’s flat voice.
“Leave him. He’s dead.”
Throwing a disbelieving glance over his shoulder at the colonel, Harriman reached down and checked the man’s pulse. He looked back up to Jameson and nodded.
Drawing a long pocketknife from out, the colonel flipped it open and pressed along the line of glass shards, cutting it open as though it were nothing as she began to give orders. “I don’t like staying here unguarded,” she said. “We’re moving down to the armory. Now.”
“Um, hello, Marla? GLASS!” Vala yelled, pointing a finger at the shards in her side.
“We can play doctor once we’re safely locked in the armory,”
Jameson replied. “The cuts are probably going to bleed very badly when the
glass is removed, and we have nothing to clot it with here. We’ll pick up one
of the emergency med packs on the way.” She closed her knife and pushed on her
cast until it split along the cut she’d created, then pulled it off. She flexed
her hand momentarily, then used it to draw out a pistol from a concealed
holster just above her waist. “
Sam pulled herself up using the control panel, and abruptly fell back against it. “That would be a no,” she said through gritted teeth.
Jameson nodded towards Daniel. “After you get Vala upright, then come help Carter. Harriman, you push the wheelchair.
Daniel nodded, and carefully sat Vala’s wheelchair upright from where he’d tipped it over moments earlier. He held one hand against Vala so she wasn’t harmed any further, and when he had the chair sitting upright, he noticed that she was staring at it. Blushing, he turned and coincidentally gave Vala a good look at his scraped back, and the shard of glass firmly lodged in his shoulder.
“Daniel, you have glass in your shoulder!” she said. “You shouldn’t be supporting Sam.”
Before Daniel could say anything, Jameson cut in. “I don’t
think Harriman can, so
“Why can’t you?” Vala snapped back.
Jameson’s eyes narrowed, and Daniel suddenly wished that Vala had just kept her mouth shut for once.
“Reason one, Empress Mal Doran,” she bit out as she turned
around. “There’s far more glass in my back and shoulders than there is in
The room was silent for a long moment.
“Good,” Jameson said. “Now, let’s move.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, the injured group was limping down the last stretch of hallway towards their destination, their way lit by only a small emergency flashlight. Closing the last blast door before the armory, Jameson raised a hand for the rest of the group to wait against one wall quietly. Which they did.
The handgun she’d been carrying this entire time switched hands, and the colonel held it ready in her left hand.
She passed the rest of the group, heading towards the bend in the hallway that led to the armory and keeping very close to the wall. Finally reaching the corner, she began to poke her head around it, but apparently decided against it.
“Skinner?” she called. “You in there?”
After a tense moment, a question instead of a reply drifted out in a sharp feminine tone. “Is that you, Colonel Jameson?”
“It’s me, Skinner,” the colonel responded, relief obvious in her voice. “And because I know what position you’re in, lower your guns and come help us. We’re all—” She paused and threw a glance over her shoulder at Harriman. “—almost all,” she corrected herself, “injured. Pretty badly too.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the joint reply from Skinner, Oliander and
A moment later, the new SG-6 appeared around the corner, and
immediately set to helping. Skinner and Oliander came
to support Sam, relieving Daniel.
“I assume you closed all the blast doors on your way down?” Jameson asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Skinner answered promptly. “We managed to lock them all before the power went out too.”
“Good.”
Finally, the rag-tag group entered the relative safety of the armory.
A row of crates had been stacked up like a barricade about ten feet into the room, and Daniel didn’t doubt that as Jameson had said, SG-6 had been sitting there, guns raised towards the doorway. They were definitely—whether she would admit it or not—Jameson’s team. Behind the barrier, several emergency lights were set up so that the room was only dim, instead of completely dark.
“Now then,” Vala said, as Harriman put her wheelchair by a wall behind the barricade, “who’s going to ‘play doctor’ and get this blasted glass out of me?”
“Oliander had medical training,” Jameson spoke up. She gave the man a pointed look. “Lieutenant, you’ve got your work cut out for you. And, if I might, I have a suggestion for the order in which you deal with your patients: Carter, Vala, then Jackson.”
Oliander nodded, then frowned as he realized Jameson hadn’t mentioned herself. “Ma’am? What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me, Oliander,” Jameson responded, turning around. “Just deal with them.”
The lieutenant gave another firm nod. “Yes ma’am.” Still halfway supporting Sam, Oliander lead her back to a corner behind the barricade where crates had been cleared away from a five-foot wide area. Slowly, he and Skinner lowered the lieutenant colonel down onto the floor in a halfway-sitting position, so that her back was propped against a crate.
Sam hissed with the pain, and Oliander whispered something to her that Daniel couldn’t hear.
She had carefully worked her bloody BDU jacket off of her injured arms, and slowly slipped it off of her shoulders, letting it puddle on the floor behind her. This left her wearing a black undershirt that left her muscular arms completely bare. She turned slightly as she began plucking glass shards out of her left forearm and Daniel noticed tattoos across both of her upper arms.
“Don’t stare,” she said without looking up, startling Daniel. “It’s rude. And because I know you’re wondering, I’ve had them for twenty something years. Since my college days.”
He pretended not to know what she was talking about, and cleared his throat. “Ja—Marla,” he quickly corrected himself, “should you really be doing that yourself? And with a not-completely healed hand?”
She raised an eyebrow, most likely at the use of her first name. “I’m fine, Daniel. My wounds are none of your concern.” Practically contorting her arm, she reached around to her own shoulders and began pulling out the lengthy shards there. She gave a soft grunt of pain as she yanked the first one out, causing the cut to slowly leak a trickle of blood down the back of her shirt.
“Well, you can’t very well be our great leader if you’re very injured,” Daniel retorted.
“I’ll be fine,” Jameson repeated. “I was going to get the cast off tomorrow anyways. And the glass,” she pulled another piece out with a sharper grunt than before, “has to come out anyway.” She yanked the final piece of glass from her back, and turned to stare flatly at Daniel.
He opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly lost his nerve. His eyes dropped from Jameson down to the floor.
Jameson raised an eyebrow. “If you have something to say,
After a momentary struggle, he looked back up and met Jameson’s emerald stare. “You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly.
The colonel’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to do what,
“This whole tough routine,” he answered immediately. “You act like you’re Superman or something. I know you want to prove that you’re still capable of doing things after your injuries and everything, but you don’t have to. Nobody thinks any less of you for what happened when you were rescuing Vala, Marla.”
She looked startled by his words, and quickly turned away.
“You don’t understand,
He carefully laid a hand on her shoulder. “I understand more than you know.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I know what you lost, Marla. I know how you feel.”
She shrugged his hand off, and barely glanced at him over her shoulder. “You don’t understand,” she repeated. “This has nothing to do with that.”
“It—” Daniel started.
“Doctor Jackson,” Oliander interrupted. “I can treat you now.”
Daniel was tempted to say, “Just a minute,” and continue his conversation with Marla, but when he looked to her, the look in her eyes told him not to. She was practically begging him to just leave her alone.
He remembered going through the same thing, when friends’ comfort just never seemed to be enough.
So he did what Jameson wanted, and turned and walked away. Sitting down by Oliander, Daniel grunted in pain as the lieutenant pulled the torn clothing away from Daniel’s shoulder. Then, unexpectedly, he poured something cold and stinging over Daniel’s scratched back.
He immediately leapt back to his feet.
“OW!” he and Vala yelled simultaneously.
He threw a look at her only to notice that she was rubbing her good hand against her back in the same places where his hurt. Right. The bond.
“Doctor Jackson?” Oliander inquired.
Settling back down, Daniel opened his mouth to say something in reply, but was cut off.
“Do not think you are safe,” a familiarly flat-toned voice said from nowhere in particular. “You cannot run, and you cannot hide, Marla Jameson. Do not cower like a child. Meet your fate.”
Every eye turned to the woman addressed. She stood stiff and still, staring out towards the pair of doors that stood between them and the Gateroom, where the Prior was probably waiting for her. Then, quickly, she pivoted and found a box labeled C4.
“What are you doing!” Vala was the first to exclaim.
Jameson glanced over her shoulder very briefly at Vala as she opened the box and removed several of the explosive charges. “Going to meet my doom, most likely,” she answered flatly.
Skinner immediately leapt to her feet and moved to help her CO without argument. She took all but a couple of the explosives from Jameson, and began attaching them to the first blast door.
“Marla… why?” Vala asked.
Jameson gave no answer as she made her way back across the room to stand with the rest of them behind the barricade, shoving the two remaining C4 charges into her pockets. Meanwhile, Skinner attached the C4 in a straight line across the edges of the door that separated them from the embarkation room. After setting it, she too hurried to stand beside the barricade.
A tense moment later, there was a loud bang and the heavy door clanged to the floor.
Skinner, Oliander and
“I’m going alone,” she said firmly.
“Ma’am!”
“You three need to stay here and protect them,” she
responded, gesturing at the injured ones. Removing it from her concealed holster,
Marla offered her handgun to
With that, she turned and ran around the barricade, over the fallen blast door and out of sight.
You can’t order me.
Before Daniel could even wonder where the thought had come from, Vala took off after Jameson. Reflexively, he bolted to his feet and ran after her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered how in the world Vala could push herself so fast with only one arm.
As he rounded the barricade, he saw through the open doorway into the next room. Several scorched bodies littered the floor near the other open doorway, burned beyond recognition.
The Gateroom security team.
His foot caught on something, and as he fell towards the floor, Daniel realized that it wasn’t the floor at all, but the fallen blast door.
Time seemed to slow as he saw that beyond the other doorway, a Prior stood at the bottom of the Gate’s ramp, the tip of his staff glowing brightly. Marla’s P-90 was already trained on him, even though it would do her no good. And Vala furiously wheeled herself through the doorway and out towards the standoff. And inexplicably, the blast door began to slide closed between her and Daniel.
“NO!” Daniel yelled.
Then his legs connected solidly with the cold, unrelenting metal and all he could think of was the pain. The rest of his body likewise struck the metal and the pain rapidly spread. Finally, his head fell to it with a thud, and his world went dark.
PART 16: Energy
Despite the barely clotting scratches along her forearms, Marla held her P-90 firmly aimed at the Prior on the Gate’s ramp. She noted briefly that the Stargate was no longer open, and found some small measure of relief in that fact. She kept her gaze firm even when Prior’s pasty face turned towards her and his frightening milky eyes stared at her. She would not waver, she would not back down. If this cost her life, then so be it. But she would not go down without a fight.
Marla opened her mouth to say something to the Prior, but was interrupted by the familiar squeak of a wheelchair. Instantly, she whirled towards the sound, but still kept her gun on the Prior.
“VALA!” she erupted.
Vala stopped almost immediately. “You’re not facing this alone,” she said.
Marla’s eyes flicked towards the blast door sliding closed between them and the others, and then over her shoulder towards the Prior who was causing it. And then, her eyes moved back to Vala.
“Well, then what about Daniel?” she said very sharply.
Realization dawned on Vala’s face, and she slowly opened her mouth. But before any sound escaped it, her eyes rolled back and then closed as she fell unconscious. Her body slowly began to slump forward, though the restraints on her wheelchair kept her from falling out.
Marla swore viciously under her breath, and quickly turned back towards the enemy. She slowly sidestepped so that she was planted squarely between Vala and the Prior. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found it amusing that she now had to defend Vala with her life for a second time.
Vala, you so owe me, she thought.
“Your defense is futile, Marla Jameson,” the man said flatly. “You and Vala Mal Doran will fall to the Ori this day for your insolence. You cannot escape your fate.”
“That is where I will have to disagree,” she snapped back.
The Prior’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and he said, “Very well.” The tip of his staff began to glow and he lifted it into the air. Instantly Marla tensed and her finger hovered over the trigger on her gun as the Prior began making small circular motions with the end of the staff.
She had no idea what he was doing until she felt a sharp gust of air hit her from behind. Barely managing to stay on her feet, Marla pulled the trigger and let a couple of bullets fly in the Prior’s direction.
They never reached him, and were instead swept around and past him by the wind to land against the far wall.
The wind hit Marla again from behind, but this time did not fall away after a few seconds. Instead, it was continuous. And then, as she slowly fell to her knees, Marla realized that the Prior was creating a tornado—or rather a swirling whirlpool in the air—with himself at its very center. There was a scraping noise behind her, and Marla struggled to turn enough to see in that direction. And she saw that the noise was caused by Vala’s wheelchair as the strong winds easily tipped it over.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Marla thought the restraints holding Vala to the chair were a great thing. Without them, Vala’s limp body would surely have been tossed around, but with the extra weight of the wheelchair, she was fairly safe.
Then the wind grew stronger and Marla could think of nothing but standing her ground. She bit curses under her breath and then gritted her teeth as she strained to keep herself from blowing away with the wind. She knew that she would have to stop this Prior fast—very fast—if defenseless Vala—and Daniel to whom she was bound—was to have any chance of surviving this attack.
Automatically correcting for the wind’s pull, Marla pressed her finger hard against her P-90’s trigger and let loose a volley of bullets.
She half-expected them to all strike and crumple against some invisible barrier the Prior had raised, as many had done before. Well, that was if they didn’t all blow away with the wind anyway, but they didn’t. The majority of them still curved around, but a couple found their way into their target: the Prior’s mid-section. Three small trickles of milky blood leaked down his robe, and Marla grinned inwardly at the small triumph.
But then the wind rushing past her became suddenly and inexplicably hot. Not quite hot enough to burn, but definitely enough to put her in pain.
And she knew that now was the moment.
But as she reached towards the pocket where she had hidden the C4 charges, something she had never expected to see again appeared before her eyes, freezing her instantly.
In the midst of the swirling wind, just in front of the Prior stood the one man for whom she was willing to do anything. From the unruly dark hair to the smiling dark eyes, his face was just as she remembered it. From the familiar uniform with the SG-6 patch sewn onto the sleeve to the scuffed combat boots, he was just as she remembered him.
“Chris,” she breathed, taking a step towards him.
She felt lightheaded, and was dangerously close to flying away with the wind as every feeling that she had held inside since the Ori fortress came bursting out. Tears blurred her vision of the man who was slowly walking towards her, and her voice broke as she repeated his name over and over again. Finally, he was close enough and her hand slowly reached out to touch him…
“Will you surrender, Marla Jameson?” the Prior’s voice said.
Unconsciously, the word yes started to form on her lips.
But before the word came completely out of her mouth, reality coldly gripped her, and her sense returned. This couldn’t be real. Christopher Grouper was dead. She had watched him die with her own eyes.
This had to be either a hallucination, or some sort of trick by the Prior.
And, as her fingertips passed through Chris instead of brushing against him, she knew it was true.
Tears still filled her eyes as the hallucination of Chris disappeared, and she looked up with anger towards the Prior. Her heart closed off, and in her mind she knew that it was truly now, or never. Thus, resolved, she let herself be carried into the swirl of the wind as she reached deep into her pocket for the pair of C4 charges. Her hand wrapped tightly around them, and she pulled them out quickly. She armed them, and as the wind carried her past the Prior and towards the wall, she hurled them towards him.
She honestly didn’t expect the plan to work, but all she could do was hope it would.
She quickly passed the Prior and the pair of charges.
I hope I make it to heaven, she thought as she braced herself for the pain she thought she would have to experience before she died.
Behind her, the charges detonated and she felt the heat on her back as she was rapidly thrown against the wall of the room. Every inch of her struck metal and pain spread throughout her from head to foot before she fell away into unthinking darkness.
PART 17: Expression
Vala awoke again to the sounds of the infirmary, and with a faint headache throbbing on a spot far up and on the left side of her forehead. She sighed contentedly and pressed her head firmly into her pillow before she remembered what had gone on before she passed out. As the image of Marla standing against the Prior flashed through her mind in every bit of its glory, her eyes flew wide open and she sat bolt upright.
Doctor Lam was almost immediately at her side, coming over from where she had apparently been writing down some information in a file.
“Where is Marla?” Vala demanded forcefully. Without waiting for the doctor to answer, Vala’s eyes scanned the infirmary, and other than Daniel beside her, none of the other beds she could see were occupied. Her heart sank. She instantly buried her face in her hands, fearing the worst. “Oh, God,” she breathed. “It’s my fault.”
“Vala!” Lam snapped, grabbing her hands and pulling them away from her face. “Colonel Jameson is fine. She’s simply been moved into one of the quarantine rooms down the hall so she rest peacefully. She deserves it.”
Giving a greatly relieved sigh, Vala murmured, “Yes. Yes, she does.” She looked briefly over at Daniel—who, she noted, had a rather large, bruised bump on his forehead—then back to Doctor Lam. “Can I go and see her?”
“Well, you’ll have to wait for Doctor Jackson to wake up,” the physician replied, likewise glancing at the unconscious archeologist. “And you’ll also have to wait for Colonel Jameson. She hasn’t woken up yet.”
“Woken up?” Vala asked.
Lam nodded. “SG-6 apparently found her unconscious, laying against the wall of the Gateroom. Lieutenant Oliander said it appeared as though she struck the wall and was knocked unconscious that way, not by the Prior.”
“Oh. Well that’s… good. How long ago…?”
The doctor glanced briefly at her watch. “You’ve all been out about two hours.”
“And Marla hasn’t woken up yet?” Vala asked worriedly.
Biting her lip slightly, Lam nodded. “I gave her a mild sedative to help her rest. I don’t think she’s been sleeping very well for the past couple of weeks, then coupled with this entire ordeal… She really just needs some down time. She should only be out for another hour or so, though. The general is very eager to debrief her on what went on in that Gateroom.”
“I’ll bet,” Vala murmured. To herself, she mentally added, I’d like to know myself. It figured that she had to pass out right in the middle of things, and then wake up not knowing what had happened.
From the infirmary bed beside hers, there was a faint groan and she turned to see Daniel slowly waking. He wriggled around a moment before slowly opening his eyes. One of his hands drifted up to where the knot had formed on his forehead. His fingers brushed across it and he muttered a sharp, “Owww.” Then, slowly he turned to face her.
When he did, Vala offered a light smile. Daniel returned it.
“Y’know, this bump on my head is your fault,” he said after a moment.
She tilted her head to one side. “Funny, I don’t remember that.”
“Well, I fell down and hit my head chasing after you,” he responded.
“And I’m paying for it right now,” she said. She rubbed at the throbbing spot on her forehead and made a face as though she were in deep pain. “I can feel your headache, Daniel.”
“Well, that’s not my fault,” he responded.
Vala was extremely tempted to tell Daniel that it was indeed his fault, since he was the one who touched that pillar on P32-1161, and re-awakened the bond. But she decided that it was probably better to just bite her tongue. Why spark any more argument than there already was.
So for a moment, Daniel and Vala just sat there in silence.
Finally, he said, “So... We’re…?”
She knew what he was thinking though, and answered the question before he even finished it. “Yes. We’re completely safe… Well, as far as I know, that is. Nobody’s told me anything about what happened yet. But, yes, as far as I know, we’re safe. Thanks to Marla.”
“Where’s…?” he started again.
Again, though, Vala interrupted his question with the answer. “She’s resting in a room down the hall. Doctor Lam says she’s fine.”
Daniel smiled lightly. “But you want to go and see her anyway.”
Nodding briefly, Vala’s bottom lip jutted out in a perfect puppy-dog pout. “Please?” She knew that Daniel didn’t want to give in to her, but that he would anyway. After all, didn’t she more or less have him wrapped around her finger? And wasn’t she a master manipulator?
Finally, Daniel sighed. “Fine. Let’s go see Marla.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, the two of them sat quietly against the wall in the quarantine room, watching Marla across the room where she was sleeping soundly in an infirmary bed. Neither Daniel nor Vala had said anything in the five minutes they’d been sitting there, both blaming it on having nothing to say. Both actually had something to say. But neither knew how to say it. Finally, though, Vala worked up the courage and opened her mouth.
“Daniel, I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
He frowned at her. “For what?”
She looked down, apparently finding something fascinating about the folded hands in her lap. “For running after Marla. It was very stupid, and I didn’t realize what I was doing. I honestly didn’t mean to put anyone else in danger. I just—”
“—wanted to help,” he finished for her. He paused for a moment, then looked towards her, and gently turned her face towards him. “Don’t apologize for that.”
It was then that Daniel realized how close their faces were. He could faintly feel the whisper of her breath on his lips, and, as his eyes drifted closed, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to move forward and kiss her. But Vala beat him to it, and their lips met in a slow kiss.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Daniel compared it to their first kiss on board the Prometheus, almost a year ago. This kiss was the exact opposite of the first one. Where as their first had been hurried and fairly sloppy, this one was slow and caring.
When finally they parted, Daniel whispered, “Y’know, I’d been waiting for this…”
“…for a long time,” Vala finished for him.
From across the room, there came the distinct sound of someone loudly clearing their throat.
Instantly breaking apart, and separating by several inches, both Daniel and Vala’s gazes turned to the woman lying on the bed, her face turned ever so slightly in their direction. Vala immediately grinned and opened her mouth, and Daniel could practically see the sexual comment forming on her lips, as well as hear it echoing in his head.
But before anything came from Vala’s mouth, Marla firmly interrupted her. “I don’t want to hear it,” she said, an unmistakable hint of sorrow in her voice. “Please.” Her eyes were begging with Vala. “Just… don’t.”
Using just her good arm, Vala pushed her wheelchair over to the bedside and took the colonel’s hand in hers. Daniel was not only surprised at Vala’s actions, but also that Marla didn’t shake Vala’s hand off, or pull her own away.
“What’s wrong?” Vala asked softly.
Marla opened her mouth to reply once, probably to deny that anything was, in fact, wrong, but closed it again before she said anything. She hesitated for a lengthy moment, then sighed. “I saw him,” she said, voice surprisingly on the verge of breaking. “Chris, that is. When I was fighting the Prior, he just appeared. Out of nowhere. And for a moment, I thought it was real.”
A deep, caring frown creased Vala’s face. “Let me guess. It tore your heart out when you realized it wasn’t?”
Lip beginning to tremble, the colonel actually looked like she was on the verge of tears, and Daniel realized how hurt she really had to be. The appearance of the tough Colonel Jameson was quickly crumbling away as her real feelings came to the surface, and she took in a couple of shaking breaths. Her emerald eyes closed, and a thin line of tears appeared under both lash-lines. Both rolled down her cheeks before she managed to pull herself together enough to stop the waterworks.
“I…” she started quietly. Her voice broke, and she struggled to regain it for a moment. “I loved him,” she finally said. “And I never told him.”
“You would’ve lost your job,” Daniel reminded her gently.
She didn’t seem to hear him. “Six years and I never told him. He never knew.”
Patting the colonel’s hand reassuringly, Vala offered a light smile. “Marla, I’m sure he knew.”
Jameson nodded briefly. “Yeah.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was obviously composing herself, and shoving the pain back into a dark corner of her mind. The firm mask of tough-all-over Marla Jameson slid quickly back into place, and she wiped away not only the tears from her eyes and face, but all indicators she’d even cried at all. “Look at me,” she said, shaking her head as she moved to sit up more. “I’m pitiful.”
“No,” Daniel disagreed. “You’re not. You have to let things like that out eventually. And the longer you wait, the worse it gets. And, Marla, you waited quite a while.”
The colonel opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Doctor Lam entering the room. “Nice to see you’re up, Colonel Jameson,” she said with a smile. “Though a little earlier than I expected.” She came around the bed, and took Marla’s wrist in her hand, detaching the IV tube.
And Marla apparently noticed the IV for the first time. Her eyes traveled up to the bag of medications that had been traveling down the tube and into her bloodstream. She indicated it with a jerk of her head. “Lam, what’s that?”
“Several nutrients,” the doctor answered simply. Her eyes narrowed briefly at the colonel. “Vitamins, minerals… The sort of things you normally get in a healthy diet.” She paused and raised an indicting eyebrow at her patient. “You were severely malnourished. In fact, it’s quite a miracle that you hadn’t passed out before from overworking yourself.” She folded her arms tightly over her chest. “So I guess you really hadn’t been eating?”
“Not as well as I should have,” Marla admitted. “But I’m over that. You don’t have to worry about my eating habits anymore, Doctor.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Really,” Marla assured with a nod.
“I’ll make sure she eats,” Vala spoke up. When all eyes turned to her, she added, “Well, Marla won’t be any fun if she kills herself, now will she?”
Marla raised an eyebrow. “I’d rather not find out.”
“Well, Colonel Jameson, if you’re up to it, you have another visitor,” Doctor Lam said. “Actually, I think he’s going to speak to you whether you feel up to it or not,” she corrected herself. “He’s been waiting since you were found unconscious two hours ago.”
“Ah, the good general’s dying to find out what happened with the Prior,” Marla observed with a faint smile.
She nodded once, and the doctor walked out the door. A moment later, General Landry walked in the room in his daughter’s place. Immediately, Jameson sat up straighter, and her hand came to her head in salute.
“At ease,” Landry said, causing Marla to drop the salute. He offered a faint smile to Daniel and Vala, and said, “I know she just woke up, but could you two please step outside for a moment? I’d like to speak with Jameson alone for a few moments.”
“Sure, General,” Daniel said, grabbing a hold of the back of Vala’s wheelchair and pushing her out. As they left, he thought he saw the General wink mischievously and very quickly. But, as he left the room with Vala, he wasn’t sure one way or the other.
* * * *
Marla watched Daniel and Vala go, wondering why they were being sent out at all. Didn’t they have a right to hear what had gone on after they both passed out? Finally, after the door closed, Marla turned her attention to General Landry. For a long moment, he said nothing, and Marla was wondering what took him so long.
“So, Marla, I’ll bet you’re wondering why I just did that,” he finally said.
The colonel’s eyes grew wider. Did he just call me Marla? she thought. Trying to cover her extreme surprise, she managed to get out, “Um… Yes, sir, I am.”
The faintest shadow of a smirk quirked at the edges of General Landry’s mouth, but he quickly tampered it out so that Marla was left wondering if she’d even seen it at all. “I wanted to be able to tell you this in private,” he said. “Marla.”
This time, Marla’s eyes were positively huge. And she was absolutely astounded by the general’s strange behavior. “Sir?” she asked hesitantly.
“Oh, no need for such formalities,” he responded.
She didn’t think it possible for her eyes to go any wider, but they most definitely did. And she was beginning to feel more than a little afraid of what was making the general act this way… “Sir, what do you mean?” she tried again.
“Well, in my experience, formalities aren’t generally used between generals that have known each other for any length of time…” Then the smile returned to his face.
At that moment, Marla’s heart felt like it was about to burst, as did her eyes. For a moment, she couldn’t find words, and her mouth soundlessly opened and closed. But when she finally regained her voice, she asked incredulously, “General? Sir, you’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” he answered. “Congratulations, General Jameson.”
Her face immediately broke into a grin. “General Jameson. I like the sound of that.”
PART 18: Eagle
The door slowly opened before her, to a place both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The space beyond the doorway was one that she had most definitely visited in the past, but a good four months had elapsed between her last visit and her present one. She paused for a long moment, eyes raking over the room before her.
After a moment, Marla took a quick, decisive step into the apartment, closing the door very firmly behind her. She habitually hung her car keys on the key rack on the wall by the door and kicked her shoes off of her feet and onto a small shoe-rack.
Then she slowly made her way through the tiny apartment towards the single bedroom in the back, carrying her duffel bag. On the way, though, she paused at a thermostat to turn the air conditioner on for the first time in months. Upon reaching her bedroom, she flicked on the light switch and let her eyes take in the room’s only slightly dusty furnishings.
Like the rest of the apartment—which consisted of a foyer, small living room and a kitchen—the room was very sparsely decorated. Everything was basic and essentially style-less. The walls were white, the carpet was cream-colored, the dresser was small and wooden, the mirror over the dresser was average, and the twin-sized bed was basic with plain black sheets and blankets. No other scrap of furniture occupied the space.
And, it hadn’t struck her before, but this room was, in a word, her.
Clean. Sharp. Ordinary. Routine. By-the-book.
Just like her.
Attempting to shake off the strange feeling that thought brought, she hefted her black duffel bag onto the bed and unzipped it. She began systematically unpacking its contents, sorting them into neat piles and then putting them into the correct dresser drawers.
She had gone on two weeks’ leave from her duties at the SGC the day before, and was actually expecting to receive a reassignment before time for her to return to the base. So her room—or, more accurately, home—on the base was more or less contained in the duffel bag she was unpacking.
Reassignment, she thought to herself.
Slowly, she looked up to her reflection in the mirror. She was still wearing her full, formal Air Force uniform. Her eyes fell almost immediately to the silver general’s stars pinned on either shoulder, where, for years before, an eagle had represented her rank as colonel. Now as a general, she felt more like an eagle.
Then her eyes took in the two new medals pinned on the uniform, and her mind drifted…
* * * *
The words penetrated
every raised barrier and sank into her heart.
“Brigadier General
Marla Jameson, you are hereby presented with the
She stood utterly
rigid while the star was pinned to her uniform. She was welling with deep pride
as another medal was placed beside the previous ones on her blue jacket, but
not a bit of her feelings showed on her carefully trained face.
“You are also hereby
presented with the United States Air Force Cross Medal for extraordinary
heroism in action against an enemy of these United States of America while
engaged with the Stargate program. Congratulations, General.”
But this time, as the
medal was being pinned to her jacket, Marla’s mask slipped for a short moment,
and a sad smile broke through. That brief moment later, any form of expression
again disappeared.
* * * *
Her fingers brushed lightly across the brand new awards decorating her uniform, and then the shining stars on her shoulders. There was no doubt. They meant change for her, both in her career, and in her personally. Now when any Air Force officer saw her, and saw the ribbons, representing the earned medals, on her uniform, they’d know she’d done something “great” to earn them. And she’d have to live with them staring back at her, reminding her every time of what she’d had to do.
Of who she saw that day.
Turning away from the mirror, she shucked her dress jacket, laid it on the bed, and resumed packing. She tried to focus on the movements of taking the clothing out of her bag, and then placing it in the appropriate drawers. But when she came to the bottom of her bag, she couldn’t any more.
Sitting in the very bottom of her duffel bag was a framed picture. The only one she’d ever kept.
The picture was of her team. Her real team.
She didn’t even remember now what the photograph, but in it, Lieutenants Atkins and Gonzalez were kneeling down in front of Marla and Chris. And the SG-6 emblem was displayed in the center of the four teammates. Everybody was smiling. Even her.
And especially Chris. His grin almost literally went from ear to ear, as always.
Her fingers slowly drifted across his portion of the picture, and she let out a slight, whispering sigh. She was just waiting to break down again. Waiting for the tears to start flowing down her face, for the sobs to start racking her body again. But she waited for a few, long minutes and they never came.
No tears. No sobs. Just the same old sad feeling on the inside of her heart.
The twisting knife of grief and remorse was gone, replaced by an almost distant pang of melancholy sorrow.
I’m getting over it, she realized. I’m starting to move on.
She let out a light sigh, and her mind drifted back to the brief ceremony she’d attended a few hours earlier in Chris’s honor.
* * * *
She’d driven somewhere
around three hours from the SGC to the tiny town in
Rows of chairs had
been set up across the grassy square, in front of a small stage with a podium
set up. In front of the podium, the standard folded-flag memorial was proudly
displayed.
She found a place with
some difficulty and parked her car. Getting out, she stood for a moment,
smoothing her uniform. Then, taking a deep breath, she crossed the street and
headed towards the rest of the people waiting for the ceremony to begin.
Reaching the rows of chairs, she moved to the farthest back row, and sat in the
very last chair.
Closing her eyes, she
breathed a deep sigh.
“Colonel Jameson?”
Her eyes flew back
open, and she looked towards the sound of the voice. She saw Chris’s aging mother—whom
she had met a before—standing there, a faint smile on her face. The same faint
smile that Marla remembered from the last time she’d seen her, probably a year
and a half ago.
“Actually, Mrs.
Grouper, it’s General Jameson now,” Marla replied.
“Oh!” the old woman
exclaimed, smiling widely. “Congratulations, General!” She glanced around, then
frowned down at Marla. “Honey, is this where you’re plannin’
on sittin’?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Marla
answered.
“Why don’t you sit up
there with us?” Mrs. Grouper asked, pointing up towards the front rows.
Marla recognized
several of Chris’s relatives that she’d met before—such as his two sisters and
his brother—standing and sitting there. She noted the small signs on the ends
of those rows. “Uh, Mrs. Grouper, they’re reserved for your family.”
The old woman offered
another smile, and Marla realized how much Mrs. Grouper reminded her of Chris
when she did. “Honey, you’re as much Christopher’s family as anyone else over
there is,” she said. “I think he was about as close to and cared for you as
much as his sisters and brother. You’re family in my book. So come sit with the
family.”
A little
self-consciously, Marla stood, and followed the short woman to the front-most
row. Once there, she smiled faintly at Chris’s sisters Erin and Cindy, who, to
Marla’s great surprise, both hugged her tightly. Then she went to shake their
brother David’s hand, but he too pulled her into a short hug.
“We’re glad you could
be here,” Cindy said. “Really.”
“Yeah,” Marla replied
awkwardly. “I don’t think I could miss Chris’s funeral.”
For a moment, Marla
didn’t know what to say. The family, not being of a high enough security
clearance, had probably only been told that Chris had been killed in action.
And it was likely they assumed that meant she and Chris were in undercover in
Oh, boy, did they have
it wrong.
She looked down, and
took in a deep breath. When she looked back up to Chris’s family, she nodded
tightly. “Yeah. I was there.”
“Please…” Cindy
started. “What were his last words?”
Marla hesitated for a moment.
“He told me to tell you all that he loved you,” she lied.
All four of the
Groupers just stared at her for a moment.
Mrs. Grouper raised an
eyebrow. “Honey, we all know that ain’t what he said.
Chris would never say that.” She put a hand on Marla’s shoulder, and raised her
eyebrows. “Now, tell the truth. What’d he really say?”
Marla took a deep
breath and opened her mouth. For a minute, the words caught in her throat and
refused to come out. Then she forced them out. The family wanted to know. “He
told me to go on,” she said, eyes falling to the ground. “He told me to leave
him and keep going.”
Everyone was quiet for
a minute, and Marla feared that the family would hate her now, knowing what
she’d done.
“If he told you to do
it, then he must’ve meant it,” David spoke up.
“Don’t be ashamed of
what you did,” Mrs. Grouper added. “There was probably nothing you could’ve
done.”
All Marla could do was
nod shortly.
“Oh, look,” Mrs.
Grouper remarked, “Brother Cavil’s ready to start. C’mon, everybody sit down.”
Marla obeyed, and
found herself sitting between Mrs. Grouper and Cindy as the pastor began
speaking. She expected his tone to be the usual, flat one that so many
preachers seemed to use for sermons. She was quite surprised when what she
thought was a droll intonation turned out to be a man speaking out of obvious
care for Chris.
“We’ve all suffered a
loss,” Brother Cavil said. “Christopher Shane Grouper was a great part of this
community. He grew up here. And he brightened all of our days while doing so.
Even after he enlisted in the Air Force, he came back as often as he could.” He
paused. “But Christopher died doing a great good. He was killed in action,
defending his country. Nobly, I’m sure.”
Marla smiled to
herself at that.
* * * *
And she smiled to herself again.
Chris really had died doing something great. And the service given for him really honored and reflected that. He would have been proud, and so she was proud for him in his stead.
With a sigh, she set the picture atop her dresser.
She sat down on her bed, then just let herself fall backwards in a flop against the hard mattress. Her eyes slowly drifted closed. Yes, she really was healing over Chris. She was getting over all of her regret. She’d forgiven herself for not telling him. She’d forgiven herself for leaving him behind.
Finally, Marla Jameson was at peace with Chris Grouper’s death, and with herself.
And, as she was moving on, so was her life. Soon, she’d be reassigned. She’d be leaving the SGC, and would probably be leaving the entire area. God only knew where she’d be moved to, but she was hoping that she’d be moved to Atlantis. If not right away, then hopefully sometime soon.
Reassignment also meant she got a fresh beginning somewhere else.
She could begin anew, without her cold reputation. Without expectations. In essence, she could change who she was for the better. Who knew, maybe this would even change her drastically.
She laughed to herself. That reminded her of something Vala had said yesterday...
* * * *
“Hey, you’ll be dating
again in no time!” she exclaimed.
Marla raised an
eyebrow at her.
“I think you can take
that as a huge no, Vala,” Daniel put in.
Vala opened her mouth to protest, but Marla cut
in before she could get anything out. “Well, as much fun as it is being told I
need to date, I have somewhere to be…” She turned, and started walking towards
the door.
Daniel caught her by
the arm and she turned back around to raise an eyebrow at him. “Before you go,
Marla, there’s something I—” He looked at Vala, then corrected
himself. “—we want to say.”
She made a gesture for
him to continue.
Daniel and Vala exchanged a glance, then said in unison, “Thank you.”
“You’ve both only said
that to me a thousand times,” Marla retorted, turning to leave again. Again,
though, Daniel caught her by the arm before she could.
“But you really
deserve it,” Vala said. “You’ve done so much for both
of us.”
A small smile tugged
at the edges of Marla’s lips, and her eyes dropped to the ground for a moment.
Then she brought them back up to the couple in front of her.
“And you’ve both done
more for me than you know. Thank you.”
* * * *
And they had. Marla really believed that through this ordeal, Daniel and Vala had truly helped her. On various levels, they’d even helped her make it through the change she knew had happened.
They’d helped her realize what was wrong with her life.
The one major thing that she’d learned from all of this, it was that life was too short to live it on the sidelines. Life was too fleeting to sit on one’s hands, not doing anything one wanted. What was life if you never did what you wanted? If you never really lived?
And, Marla Jameson vowed, from here on out, she was changing.
* * * *
* *
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Okay, now about the sequel. I've been fairly quiet about it so far, but let me explain it some more now.
In the sequel--which is going to take place about a year
after this ending--Marla's going to get the reassignment she wants, and is
going to Atlantis. (But no fear, she's not going to take over Sheppard's job.) When
she arrives, it turns out that
And actually, something's happened. I said before that it might be a couple weeks before I got to write the sequel, but now it's looking like longer.
See, I've got some challenge fics that will probably take up the rest of this month, and I'm seriously considering entering NaNoWriMo for November. Then I have the first few weeks of December, but then I'm going out of town for about 2 weeks for the holidays. So, I don't think you all want me to start writing the sequel, then leave you hanging for 2 weeks, right? lol. SO, it's looking like I probably won't get to writing the sequel (which will be called 'Diduco Amatorum' which is Latin btw) until after the New Year.
Yeah, I know. That sucks.
ANYWAY, remember to review because: Reviews are like pills and my muse is a hypochondriac.
** The End **
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