Jack O'Neill was back on his roof in
his observatory, looking up at a blue Colorado sky. He didn't think he
should be there, and was pretty sure he wouldn't like the reason why he
felt that way once he finally figured it out. Still, that sky sure did
look nice, might as well take advantage of the break while it
lasted.
Looking down at himself,
he realized he was wearing a brown flannel shirt and black jeans, the
baggy type. He should've been sweating, what with it being so hot and
all, but it didn't even hurt his eyes to look at the sun, not like it
should've. 'So not a good sign, Jack. Something is definitely
rotten in Denmark, and it ain't the herring.' That sun felt good
though, warming the skin on his face and neck. He rolled his sleeves
halfway up his arms, as he scanned the area.
The sound of someone
climbing the ladder to his roof caught his attention. He sniffed, no
familiar aroma tickled his nostrils, so figured he'd have to wait until
whoever it was made an appearance before deciding if he'd have to shoot
them or not. Automatically, he checked the back of his pants for his 9
mil. 'Crap, it wasn't there.'
Moving softly, he crept
to the hiding place where he always kept a backup and moved away the
floorboard. 'That was empty too! What the . . .?'
A familiar giggle had him
whirling in place, ready to attack. He froze in surprise. It was Carter.
Or at least it looked like Carter. 'How the hell did she creep up on
me that way? You're losing your touch in your old age, Jack.' He
inhaled again, his nostrils flaring.
Nope, no way it could be her
Rising from a crouch, he sprang and accomplished
. . . nothing, as the blonde female easily sidestepped his attack. He
pivoted from his position against the railing to face the trespasser.
Automatically, he checked for exit points . . . just in case. His
unsuccessful assault had placed him closer to the ladder, which was an
advantageous position in his book of strategy.
She giggled again, smiling impishly. "What's the
matter, Sir? I didn't scare you, did I?" She rocked back and forth on
her heels, arms folded negligently across her ample chest. She was
dressed in steel-gray; certainly non-regulation as far as the Air Force
was concerned.
"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing on
my roof?" Jack growled, low and dangerous.
"Don't you know who I am, Sir?" She giggled
again. It sounded so familiar, yet it wasn't, couldn't be, her.
There was no harm in playing her game, maybe he
could draw her out, get some intel. "You tell me."
"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, Sir.
You should know that," she chided.
Jack shook his head. "You may look like her, but
you're not her. I should know. So, for the last time, who the hell are
you and what are you doing on my roof?"
His voice got louder with every word. Whoever the hell this imposter
was, she was beginning to seriously piss him off.
The teasing look fled her face, to be replaced
with something harder, more deadly. "You're right, Jack. I'm not her;
I'm better than her. I'm Ess." She paused. "Remember now?"
A dizzying montage of images flooded his brain,
causing him to reel with the impact. He relived his most recent
kidnapping, waking up in the dark, and finding Carter trapped there with
him. His face burned with the remembered embarrassment of seeing her
gloriously naked, and his discovery of her mole. That memory flowed into
the appearance of Fifth, and his bug thingys.
"You're Thing Two, Sam's
evil twin!" He grabbed onto the railing to keep himself upright.
'Crap! This is so not a good thing, Jack. Okay, calm yourself down.
Got to get a handle on this shit. Get some intel; figure a way out of
this fricking mess. Remember, there is always a way out.'
The figure facing him clapped its hands slowly
and then laughed when he flashed a look of chagrin. "Very good, Jack. I
knew you'd figure it out, if I gave you enough hints. You're getting
slow in your old age, you know. Ten years ago, or even five, you
would've gotten it sooner. Guess that's one of the disadvantages of
mortality, huh. I don't understand what you fools see in it
myself."
He straightened, ready to fight back with
whatever weapons he had. At the moment he only had his cunning and his
wits. "Yeah, well, what the hell would you know about it? You're a bug
person, a Replicator. Say, if Fifth and Thing One are called brethren,
does that make you a cistern?"
He smirked and knew he'd scored a hit when a
look of anger flitted across Its face. Folding his arms across his
chest, he leaned nonchalantly with his back against the railing.
He fired another salvo, designed to confuse and
hoped it would be effective. "I'm asking you again, what the hell are
you doing on my roof?"
A look of impatience fell upon Its face. "We're
not on your roof, we're inside your head. Don't you get it? Do I have to
spell everything out for you? I thought you were smarter than
that."
"Ah! Well you know me; I'm just a dumb flyboy
who's blown up one too many snakes. Sort of scrambles the gray matter
after a while, if you know what I mean." He tapped the side of his head
and smiled innocently.
"Cut the crap, Jack. You can't pull the dumb act
on me. I know you, because I AM you."
It took a step toward him, and he tried backing
up, but was stopped by the railing that suddenly morphed into a shifting
but impenetrable barrier made up of Replicator blocks, almost encasing
him in their grasp. He cringed away in reaction, squirming and twisting
his body.
Unfortunately, this put him within easy reach of
the Bug version of Sam. It smiled in a feral way, baring Its teeth like
a snarling leopard, just before it sank its teeth in its prey. Jack
shivered in spite of himself.
"You're such a slave to your senses, Jack. There
is nowhere you can go to escape me."
Jack took a deep breath, calming himself. His
reaction to feeling the wall of bug blocks against his back had been
instinctive. If he were to have any chance of surviving, he had to get
control of himself, of the situation. And he had to survive. Not for
himself, but for her. For Sam.
"Ya know what? I've never been accused of having
any sense before." He relaxed the muscles of his face, erasing all
emotions. No way he was going to let this THING win. "But then, you'd
know that, wouldn't you. Seeing as how you've stolen my memories and
all."
"Not just yours
Jack. Samantha's too. Would you like to know what you're missing? I
could show you. I assure you that I'm anatomically correct in all
aspects and fully functional." It smiled and stepped forward, molding
Its body against his, lightly tracing one finger along his jaw
line.
He wanted to
shrink back, but had nowhere to go. 'Were you
just propositioned by a bug person, Jack? This THING couldn't be
serious, could it? It's just too wacko.'
He grabbed the
hand and removed it from his jaw. "So, you're proposing that I just plug
myself into your dick drive for a quick download? Umm, I think I'll pass
on that one. I don't think our software is compatible, if ya know what I
mean."
He stretched his
lips in a tight smile, more of a grimace than anything. He tried
shifting sideways, to slide away from her touch. As if his actions were
a signal, he felt restraints growing around his ankles. It was a creepy
feeling and he so wanted to get the heck out of Dodge, but couldn't move
a step.
Sam's
doppelganger pouted, full lips drawn up into a bow. "You sure? It would
be the perfect solution. No pesky regs to stand in the way, no messy
touchy-feely crap to put up with afterwards. The ideal one-night stand."
Its arms wrapped around him, one hand around the small of his back, the
other at his neck.
He struggled;
raising his arms to push her away, but discovered he couldn't move them,
when the same creepy-crawly restraints grew over his wrists. Desperate
now, he twisted and turned, trying to evade Its grasp, but it was too
strong.
Inexorably, in a
parody of intimacy, It bent his head toward Its parted lips, inviting
him in. He spat and hit his target. The spittle ran down Thing Two's
cheek, leaving a glistening trail, like slime from a slug.
"Get the fuck away from me, you Techno-bitch!"
It laughed and
released his head, sliding both hands sensuously down his body, tugging
his shirt out of his pants, and disregarding the buttons, ripped it
open. The feel of cold mechanical fingers brushing against the skin of
his stomach and chest made him squirm in revulsion, trying to escape the
unwanted touch.
As he watched in growing horror, the spit on Its cheek disappeared,
absorbed by the tiny bug blocks comprising the Bride of Frankenstein
wannabe in front of him.
"This is the
closest you'll ever get to knowing what it would be like to make love to
her, you know. You had your chance and you blew it. She finally realized
what you've known all along. She deserves better than you. That's why
she chose Pete."
With effort, he
kept his face blank, but inside he was bleeding. His heart shattered,
hemorrhaging into his soul. 'Why in hell did
that bug thing have to be so damned accurate? Oh yeah, because it has
all your memories, Jack. And Sam's too. Of course, there's always the
chance that It's messing with your head . . . Especially since this crap
is taking place inside your head. Who would've guessed it would be this
crowded inside your noggin? But it sure feels real.'
Seemingly female hips ground against his groin,
arousing him despite his repugnance. In an effort to distract himself,
he bit his lip. Hard. Feeling his arousal, the hips continued their
obscene bump and grind and then upped the ante. Jack felt fingers
tugging at the zipper of his pants.
"Don't do this," he growled low in his throat, like an animal that's
been cornered and has no option but to fight.
It shrugged,
withdrew its hands from his body, and then stepped away. Simultaneously,
the wall of bug blocks at his back multiplied, slithering over his body,
wrapping it in a cocoon until only his face was left free. His body
trapped, the only weapon he had left was his mind. At least her assault
on his body had ceased, giving him room to breathe and time to
think.
"Why are you
doing this? Don't you have better things to do with your time? You know,
planets to consume, galaxies to dominate?"
In frustration,
he tried banging his head, but had been robbed of even that outlet. He'd
lost all sensation with his torso, and as for his extremities, their
condition was also a mystery.
She stood in front of him, a smirk on her face.
"Finally an intelligent question from you. I was beginning to think you
were as dumb as you act, Jack."
"You didn't
answer my question," he snarled out between clenched teeth. He tried
moving the pinkie on his right hand. 'A huge
honkin' no-go there. Crap, you can't even feel the damned thing, let
alone move it. Jack O'Neill, it's official. You are in deep
kimchee!'
"We're doing it because we can."
Her answer took him by surprise, as he was concentrating on
regaining any semblance of control over his body.
"What?"
She took a deep
breath and spoke slowly, as if to a particularly dense child. "You asked
me why we're doing this and I told you. We're doing it because we can.
You and Sam are both at our mercy now, and let me assure you, we don't
have any. Mercy that is. Not when it comes to dealing with the two
people who betrayed us. Lied to us."
"You're doing this because we pissed you off?"
Jack's incredulous laugh echoed strangely in the confined space,
seemingly bouncing off the machine standing in front of him and then
rebounding back to its origin.
'Well, ain't this just peachy, I'm caught in some kind of Sci-Fi
soap opera, 'As the Bug Evolves'.'
"Yes."
"So, now that
you've got us, what next? Whips, chains? The comfy chair?" He raised an
eyebrow in lieu of shrugging his shoulders.
She giggled, a
perversion of the genuine article. "We hurt you, just like you did us.
Only we don't need such primitive tools to cause pain. Not when we can
do this."
He saw the hand
reaching for him, and tried to duck away, really he did. But he
couldn't, the cocoon encasing him wouldn't budge. The inhuman hand
touched his face, cradling his cheek, almost in a caress. Its face was
mere inches from his, ice-blue eyes boring into his, but he refused to
blink, having no other way to demonstrate his defiance.
The hand moved upward until the fingers touched his forehead. He
tensed, sensing what was coming next. Although expected, the sudden
invasion jolted his senses.
Images flashed
before his eyes. Sam laughing with Pete, making love to him, accepting
his ring. Saying yes. He cringed, as he experienced her feelings, her
ecstasy, as if he were her. When she climaxed, he did too, riding the
wave down the other side. Any part of his heart that was still intact
crumbled, turned to dust, blown away on the sighs of might have
beens.
The scene
abruptly changed, shifting to Sam being tortured by Fifth for a decision
he had made. An accusation oozed insidiously through his mind, like
slime through a swamp. "It's your fault. You know it and Sam knows it.
Sam blames you for what's happening here. She's better off with Pete."
"Unbeknownst to
Jack, tears ran down his face, to drip upon the blocks encasing his body
as he stared, unseeing. Ess stood back to admire its work, adjusted her
clothing, and smiled. Fifth would be pleased. Matching the images forced
into his brain with corresponding assaults on his physical body had been
a stroke of sheer genius. The combined sensations served to accentuate
every aspect of their attack upon his mind and body.
The female
automaton gave the order and the little brothers began releasing Jack,
each block joining to form larger units, until they skittered away
chittering and whining as they withdrew, awaiting further instructions.
His body released from their grasp, he crumpled to the floor,
unconscious, tears staining his cheeks.
Jack's torn shirt
revealed a bare chest, its subtle rise and fall illustrating that he
hardly seemed to be breathing, but Ess was not concerned; such things
were inconsequential compared to the final goal. As both the shirt and
pants had been damaged, Sam's duplicate ordered the little brothers to
consume Jack's clothing and manufacture new coverings which would
further their aims.
As Ess watched,
the small brethren crawled slowly over Jack's unconscious body,
consuming his clothing as they went, to include his shoes and socks,
leaving him wearing only his stained boxers. Those would remain in order
to further their plan of inflicting pain and mental suffering on the one
who had given the order to Sam to betray Fifth. The one that was
ultimately responsible for hurting them.
Based on shared
memories from Fifth, Ess knew Jack would remain oblivious to what was
happening for some time to come. There was plenty of time for the little
brothers to create new clothing out of the raw materials contained in
what he'd worn before.
Ess turned as portion of the cell wall melted and Jay walked
through. "Did it go as planned?"
Jay smiled and
nodded. "Ya sure yabetcha, snookums. I've set our little brothers the
task of eating Sam's clothing and replacing it with ones identical to
ours. I think Fifth will be tickled pink when we debrief."
Ess returned the smile with one of its own. "Ya
think?"
***
An hour after
speaking with General Hammond, Thor and Ernie were meeting with Teal'c,
Daniel, Colonel Dixon, and Colonel Reynolds. Ernie was excited. Hammond
had sent their best to aid them. He just hoped that it would be enough.
Their spaceship, the O'Neill II, had left Earth orbit soon after the
passengers and supplies had been transported aboard.
Thor was thorough
during his briefing. Contact with the investigating Asgard vessel had
revealed that a Replicator vessel had landed on a planet in that sector.
From their vantage point in orbit, the cloaked Asgard vessel had
surveyed the surface and found it to be void of any life. Instead, it
teemed with Replicators. Weather on this desolate world was unfavorable,
consisting of high winds and monster storms that made transporting any
landing party to the surface hazardous, if not impossible.
For reasons known
only to them, the Replicators appeared to be confined to the one planet,
eschewing contact with other worlds in the star system. Ernie hadn't
figured out the reasons for it yet, and had decided it really didn't
matter in the long run. Not when there were more important things to
ponder, and worry about.
The number one
item on his list right now was the safety of Jack O'Neill and Samantha
Carter. Everything else, including his study of the use of contractions
in human communication, had been put on the back burner. Of course, that
did not mean that he couldn't try them out for size if the opportunity
permitted. 'Did not or didn't? Which would be more effective?'
the little gray alien mused. 'What I would give right now for
Jack O'Neill to tell me which one would be better.'
As requested,
Ernie sat observing the humans. Teal'c appeared stoic and calm as usual,
although his jaw could be observed tensing and clenching under his ebony
skin. Clearly, he was displeased with the disappearance of his friends.
Ernie found the Jaffa's thatch of black hair distracting, and had to
drag his attention away from it repeatedly. It just seemed wrong on so
many levels.
When he realized
he had made a pun, Ernie was inordinately proud of himself. According to
Jack O'Neill, this was one of the higher forms of humor on his world,
and the alien resolved he would have to tell him about it when he saw
him again.
With an effort, Ernie tabled that thought for
later and resumed his duties of observing the humans. Daniel Jackson was
a mystery to him. He'd only come into contact with him recently, but had
studied Thor's extensive reports of his earliest contacts with these
humans. According to his Asgard friend, Daniel had spent some time as
one of the 'Ascended', but then had reappeared a year later, seemingly
alive and human once again.
Previous attempts
on his part to interview Daniel Jackson and learn of his experiences
while ascended had been fruitless. The human had been extremely reticent
when it came to discussing this period of his life, claiming not to
remember. Ernie didn't buy his excuse and was determined to extract the
information out of Daniel with whatever means he could. Short of harming
him, that is.
He had learned
from experience how humans prized their privacy while dealing with Jack
O'Neill. The fact that Jack O'Neill would personally hunt him down and
hurt him severely if he did anything to harm his human friend might have
had something to do with it too.
Ernie knew little
about the other two humans, other than the fact that Dixon had a large
family that he doted on. Since the Asgard used cloning to reproduce, the
idea of children in and of itself was intriguing. At any other time, he
would have been tempted to lure Dixon away from the area so that he
might grill him about fatherhood. But, now was not the time. Too much
was at stake. Ernie compromised by promising himself that he would speak
to the human later, after their friends were safe.
Mentally, he added one more thing to his list of 'Things to do after
Jack O'Neill is rescued'. The list was growing larger by the minute.
'Soon I'll have a whole shitload of things to do. I
can't wait to tell Jack O'Neill about my list. Wait a minute, I just
used another contraction! Sweet.'
Ernie dragged his attention back to his current task of observing
the interactions between the humans and restrained himself from
bouncing in his chair. 'Concentrate on the humans, Ernie. Do your
job or Thor will ream your little gray ass!'
Judging by the
looks of concentration and determination on their faces, Reynolds and
Dixon were equally resolute in rescuing their colleagues, Jack O'Neill
and Samantha Carter. Both had a looks of grim determination on their
faces. 'Face it, Ernie. They're all worried sick
about Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter too. So just do your job so we
can haul their sorry asses back home.'
Thor's voice
broke into Ernie's introspections. "Our vessel will exit hyperspace in a
short time. Once in position above the planet currently occupied by the
Replicators, the weapon which Jack O'Neill created will be deployed
against them."
"What about Jack and Sam? Do we know for certain
that they're down there on that planet?" Daniel raised eyebrows in
query. Ernie flashed a quick glance at Thor. Yes, the Supreme Commander
had caught the non-verbal communication also and realized it added a
degree of emphasis to Daniel's question.
"Although the
Replicator vessel appears to be shielded, our tracking device indicates
that Jack O'Neill is aboard and alive. In addition, the Asgard vessel
already at the scene confirms that two human life signs have been
detected on the planet surface."
"Are the Replicators aware of the presence of the Asgard vessel,
Thor?" Teal'c asked with a direct gaze.
"We do not
believe so. Our Asgard vessel remains cloaked and the Replicators have
done nothing to indicate that they have detected it. In the past, this
enemy has always reacted to such a threat by attacking it."
"Perhaps the
Replicators have changed their tactics with the ascension of Fifth to
the leadership position." Teal'c raised one eyebrow.
Through Ernie's association with this Jaffa, he
had learned that Teal'c had elevated the art of non-verbal communication
to a fine art. According to his friend, Jack O'Neill, the raised eyebrow
meant that the Jaffa was either laughing hilariously or scolding an
inept pupil who'd just made an exceptionally dangerous assumption. Given
the context, Ernie had the feeling that the second interpretation was
the likely winner.
Evidently the
other humans sitting around the table were of the same opinion, as
Daniel snorted and Colonel Dixon suddenly appeared to find the tabletop
extremely interesting. Colonel Reynolds was grinning outright. Ernie
turned to look at his fellow Asgard, Thor. Did he realize what was being
said without words? Thor answered Ernie's own unspoken question with a
slight nod.
"You wish to contribute your thoughts to our planning session?"
asked Thor point-blank.
"Indeed." Teal'c inclined his head. "Should not
our strategy include the probability that the Replicators know of our
presence and have their own agenda?"
Thor tilted his head. "Your suggestion has merit, Teal'c."
Ernie couldn't restrain his bounces any longer. 'Whoo hoo! Hang on people, the cavalry is a
comin'over the hill!'
***
When Jack came
to, his eyes snapped open, then immediately closed again as the glare
from the too-bright lights speared into his brain. He rolled over onto
his side, clutching his head with both hands. His actions didn't relieve
the agony he was feeling. It felt like someone had taken an ice cream
scoop to his brain, scraping out his gray matter, leaving his skull
hollow. Only to dump the gray matter back inside again with no regard as
to where anything went. 'Oy! I've had hangovers
before, but this beats them all. And this time I didn't even get to
enjoy myself. Thanks to that THING wanting to do the nasty with
me.'
Just thinking
about it made his skin crawl. He caught a whiff of the air and cursed
inwardly. It smelled like sex. Had he? Moving his thighs, he realized he
was stuck to his boxers. Crap . . . he had. He shuddered.
Cautiously, he
cracked open one eye to take stock of his surroundings. When it didn't
make the pain inside his head any worse, he opened the other one. He
could see nothing but Replicator blocks making up the floor of his cell.
Or at least, that's where he thought he was now. Of course, considering
the way those bugs could mess with your head, determining just what
really was real, well that was another matter entirely.
Still, there was
no sense in putting off the inevitable, he supposed. That decision made,
keeping one hand firmly wrapped around his aching head, he used the
other one to push himself up into a sitting position.
When he looked
around, initially all he saw were metallic-gray walls, ceiling and
floor. When he looked more closely, he realized he could see a Carter
curled up in the corner. Despite the fact that she was dressed
differently, he knew this one was the genuine article. Mixed with his
scent, was Sam's.
Taking the time to look at himself, he realized his original clothes
were gone too. They'd been replaced at some point by the bugs, he
supposed. 'Don't go there Jack. You don't even want to think
it. Crap, the thought of those THINGS stripping me down to my underwear
gives me the creeps.'
Jack shivered, drew his knees up and wrapped both arms around
them. 'I don't know which would be worse, having the
bugs take off all my clothes except my skivvies or those THINGS, be it
the Techno-bitch or Techno-Me . . . touching me.'
The clothing he'd
been given felt weird against his skin and he couldn't help but wonder
if it were a real fabric or made up of teeny-tiny Replicators. That
thought was bizarre in and of itself.
For a moment, he
considered taking them off. However, since the bugs had taken his other
clothes, he was left with the choice of stripping down to his boxers or
keeping them on. Considering that Sam was in the same cell as he was, he
decided he'd rather keep the bug-clothes rather than sit around in his
whoofy underwear while Sam was around. He settled for sticking his hands
in his pants so he could check on the status of his family jewels. They
seemed to be in good shape. Just a little used and abused, nothing that
a little disinfectant couldn't cure. He shivered again.
He resisted going over to wake up Sam, figuring
she probably needed the recovery time. After all, it wasn't as if there
was a whole heck of a lot to do right now. A deeper part of him knew his
real reasons for postponing his meeting with her though, and he reddened
with the shame of it.
Smell is one of
the most powerful senses, and he recognized that if he had memorized her
scent, she knew his too. Trouble was, that hers wasn't the only aroma
bouncing around their cell. The other one, even more powerful, was
evidence of what had happened in his encounter with Sam's evil twin.
He gasped, scrubbed his hand through his short gray hair, and
searched his memories frantically. 'Did it? Did we? God, I hope not!
But when it comes to those perverted bug people, you can never tell.
Crap! What I would do for a shower right now. Not to mention some
disinfectant, and maybe a scrub brush to scour away the feel of its
touch against my skin.'
Unfolding his
long frame, he realized he couldn't just sit around, he felt way too
jumpy for that. In deference to his still pounding head, he slowly rose
to his feet. When this movement didn't make him puke up his toenails, he
marked it as down as a victory of sorts.
He began pacing,
back and forth across his side of the cell, his hands automatically
searching for the pants pockets. When there weren't any, it only served
to heighten his level of frustration and anger. 'Damned bugs can't
even get the pants right.'
As he walked, he mentally stuffed the most
recent events into that box inside his head, the one that he kept for
just such occasions. Then, he wrapped the box in a roll of duct tape for
good measure. True, one of these days, that box was bound to explode
even with the duct tape countermeasures, but until then . . .
***
Fifth was indeed
pleased with the progress of his two proteges, Jay and Ess. While the
three of them remained merged, one with each other, he communicated his
latest findings to them. A cloaked Asgard vessel had been detected in
orbit around their planet. This was not unexpected and only served to
reinforce the necessity that they move on to the next stage of their
plans for their human prisoners.
In the meantime,
the brethren were ordered to begin the agreed upon evacuation sequence.
Many had been lost when the Asgard had attacked previously. This
destruction could not be allowed to happen again.
From
communication with his fellows comprising the blocks of their cell,
Fifth knew that Jack O'Neill had regained consciousness and that the
exchange of clothing had been discovered. Soon, Samantha Carter would
also open her eyes. When that occurred, the next phase of their plan
could be put into effect.
In the meantime, the migration to safety began.
***
Samantha Carter
was awakened by the smell of sex and the sound of pacing footsteps.
She heard a
groan, and realized it had originated with her. Whoever was pacing had
evidently heard her, as the rhythm of the steps stopped, to be replaced
the sound of someone approaching.
Underneath the musky smell she could detect another scent. One that
was readily identifiable to her. "Sir?"
She felt a hesitant touch on her shoulder that could only belong to
one man, her Jack.
"Carter, you all right?"
She groaned again
and cautiously slitted open one eye and immediately regretted it. "Holy
Hannah, my head!"
"Take it easy.
The headache seems to be one of the many side effects of having a bug
person stick its hand inside your head. Go figure."
Her mind kicked
into full gear at the mention of their encounter with Fifth and the evil
bug twins and horrific memories flooded her mind. The approach of Jay's
hand, the pain when it penetrated her forehead, followed by the shared
memories of Jack's torture at the hands of Ba'al. She'd felt him die
trapped against the spider web, and had died with him. The pain from the
acid had been inconsequential though compared to the news that Jack had
held her responsible for it because she'd urged him to accept the Tok'ra
symbiote when he'd been dying.
Those memories
and the fact that Jack's voice sounded . . . off somehow gave her the
resolve to open both eyes and push into an upright position. Jack was
dressed in the same clothes that the bug people had worn. She gasped
when she looked down and realized she was dressed the same. For a
moment, she considered the possibility that the man in the cell with her
wasn't her Jack and then immediately rejected it. She'd know his scent
anywhere.
Jack was standing back from her with little emotion showing on his
face. That wasn't right either, any other time and he'd have been right
there by her side, wanting to help. 'Does he still blame me for
Ba'al? Surely he's gotten over that by now. Has realized that I only
wanted him to survive. That I would've given my life for him if it
would've prevented his capture and torture by that monster. No harm in
finding out, though.'
Mentally
preparing herself for his rejection, she mulled over her next words.
"What's wrong, Sir?" Her suspicions that he was hiding something were
confirmed when he jumped.
"You mean besides the fact that we've been kidnapped by bug people?"
He quirked one eyebrow.
"You know that's
not what I mean. You just seem jumpy, that's all." She tried scooting
closer to him, and was worried when he cringed back from her. "Cut the
bull, Sir. What's wrong? Is it something I did?" 'There, the question is out in the open. Let's see
what he does with it.'
"Huh?"
His reaction
seemed genuine, as if he really didn't know what she was talking about.
So, if it wasn't something she'd done, then that left the Replicators.
Ooh, this could get ugly. She sighed in frustration and was reminded of
the first scent she'd discovered upon her awakening. Sex.
"Sir? What happened while I was unconscious?" He flinched again, as
if he'd been struck, and looked away.
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, don't beat around the bush. What happened when Thing Two
stuck its hand inside your head?"
"Oh, that. You go first."
"No, I think you
should go first, Sir. You've been acting pretty weird ever since I came
to." She watched as his eyes grew dark. "Any other time you would've
been over here helping me out. Now you act like you can't stand the
sight of me. So, what's going on?"
"Nothin' much.
Only what usually happens when a bug bitch lets Its fingers do the
walking through your brain cells." He shrugged. "Nail-in-the-head
headache and the strong urge to beat the crap out of whoever had the
idea that robots were cool. You know what I mean."
"No, I don't know, Sir. So why won't you tell me?"
"Drop it, Carter." He scrubbed his face with his hands and then
turned away from her.
She got to her
feet and walked up behind him. When she put a tentative hand on his
shoulder, he jumped, as if he hadn't heard her approach.
"Sir?"
He whirled around
and grabbed both her hands in his. Seeing his eyes widen, she cocked her
head sideways in question. He answered by pointing over her shoulder
with his chin. His gesture needed no explanation as she heard the sound
of Replicators whining and chirping.
He loosened his
grip and she turned to face what she knew was coming. Sure enough, the
cell walls melted allowing three figures to enter the room with them.
Once they'd passed, the walls knitted themselves back together again.
Jack and Sam
backed slowly away from them, but were stopped by a wall that suddenly
sprang into being against their backs. Jack reacted by cringing again,
as if contact with the wall had shocked him.
Fifth and his
evil twins all wore smiles, and Sam felt Jack shiver beside her. Then he
stepped in front of her, seemingly all business.
"What do you want this time?"
Ess stepped forward with an awful smirk on her face. One that Sam
never hoped she'd use on her own.
"We'd like to
have some more fun, Jack. You should know by now that I don't believe in
one-night stands." She shared a grin with Jay and Ess and then wiggled
her eyebrows suggestively.
"What the hell are you talking about?" exploded Sam. Jack had turned
beet-red and looked like he wanted to kill someone.
"You mean he
hasn't told you? Jack, I'm surprised. You've never been shy before." Ess
swaggered seductively toward Jack, who tried to back warily away from
her. When the wall at his back stopped him, he slid sideways around Sam
in an effort to escape the clutches of her evil twin.
"Yeah, well, it's something I've been trying to forget. So if you
don't mind, just bug off, Bug." He barked.
"Jeez, Jack. I'm crushed. You go for a romp in the sack and don't
invite me?" Jay smirked and advanced toward the human couple.
Sam couldn't
believe what she was hearing. 'Do they mean what
I think they mean? You mean Jack and that Thing did the horizontal
tango? Holy Hannah! There is no way in hell that he would've done
something like that voluntarily. Not my Jack. Then that means . . . My
god, that Thing raped him! No wonder he's been acting the way he
has.'
"Oh God, Jack. I'm so sorry," she blurted. Jack winced.
"Hey, it's not
what you think, Carter," he mumbled unconvincingly. They were
interrupted by laughter, which awakened them to the fact that Jay and
Ess had come within arms reach of them.
Jack grabbed Sam
by the shoulders and guided her around until she stood in back of
him.
Jay folded his
arms and smirked. "Whatcha doin', Jack? Don't you want to let Carter in
on the fun too?"
Sam gasped and paled. 'This cannot be happening, this cannot be
happening, there is no way in hell this can be happening!'
"Stay the hell away from me, you bastard!" Sam growled.
"I think the lady
just told you to take a hike. We're so not into kinky menage a trois a
la, bug so, amscray, get lost, and bug off, you Techno-bastard." Jack
stood toe-to-toe with his mechanical double and stared it in the eye.
Sam watched in disbelief and awe.
"Jack?"
Distracted, he turned his head and it was then
that the attack came. Sam watched as Jay drove his fingers into Jack's
forehead. Her scream mingled with his as Jack collapsed to the floor at
her feet. That left her standing, watching in shock as his face
contorted in pain. He whimpered.
Sam turned to
Fifth. "Don't do this. You're hurting him. Why don't you just stop? You
have me, let him go. I'll go with you if you let him go." Tears ran down
her cheeks.
Fifth shook its
head with the finality of a hangman at the gallows. "No deal, Samantha
Carter. We already have you, so why should we let either of you go? This
is far too much fun to stop it now. Don't you think?" Fifth nodded and
Ess stepped forward.
A familiar giggle
alerted Sam to the forgotten threat. Her eyes snapped from Fifth toward
the sound. Ess stepped around the body on the floor and repeated her
giggle.
"Holy Hannah,
Sam. You thought playing around with a generator was fun, wait till you
try this." The voice was hers, but it wasn't. It lacked the subtle
undertones that could not be duplicated by a mere machine.
"Now it's your
turn, Sam." Ess reached for her and she screamed when she felt its
touch. Ess maintained contact with her victim as Sam fell to the floor
in a boneless heap.
Jay straightened and stepped back, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"That went well, don't cha think?"
Fifth turned to
his two students. "The Asgard are in position. We must evacuate now," As
he watched, the floor of the cell around the two humans melted away, the
individual parts joining into larger ones until they skittered away,
leaving Jack and Sam lying on the bare ground. The brethren whined and
chirped between themselves as they marched in an otherworldly parody of
The March of the Tin Soldiers onto the waiting vessel. With a last look
at their human captives, Fifth, Jay, and Ess turned and walked up the
ramp.
As the hatch of
the Replicator ship closed, Jack and Sam were left lying unconscious on
the barren soil of the planet. The legs of the spider-shaped vessel
retracted as it lifted into the sky, leaving them behind.
Strong winds
buffeted the two human bodies and dust devils swirled around them,
slowly covering them with a thin layer of sterile dust as the Replicator
ship made the jump into hyperspace. The only sound was the screaming of
the oncoming storm.
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