Fic: Anise Rides Again (part 4)
Title: Anise Rides Again (4/?)
Fandom: Stargate SG1/Supernatural
Rating: PG
Character: Anise/Dean Winchester, Jack O’Neill, Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter, Teal’c
Disclaimer: Stargate, Supernatural and their characters are the property of their respective creators. I own nothing.
Summary: While delivering vital information to earth, Anise takes a new host.
Previous parts here
They stepped through the event horizon with Dean in control. They had argued about it for a good half an hour before Anise had conceded that even though it was her mission, Dean was the one who knew how to use the weapons. And there were a lot of weapons. There was the government-issue Beretta at his hip, his own Colt 1911 nestled at the small of his back and an iron knife with silver inlays in his boot. The General may have denied Dean his own P90, but with the vials of salt, lighter fluid and M&M’s in his pockets he felt, if not ready for anything, then certainly for a whole lot of violence.
SG-1 had begun to fan out through the room, even as Dean stumbled from the gate, still dazed and nauseated from the trip. They moved precisely, deliberately, sweeping their guns up and down, back and forth as they spread out across the room. What are they doing?
They’re clearing the room, Dean explained, his memories explaining the purpose where simple words failed. He watched SG-1 with a practiced eye as they worked, perfectly synced and acutely aware of each other despite the distance. They’re good, he added, his approval tinged with a hint of sadness. He’d been part of a team like that once.
“Clear,” the Colonel declared. He and Teal’c took up position on either side of the room’s only door, couching down to present smaller targets with their weapons trained on the corridor. “Daniel, send the MALP home,” he ordered.
Dr. Jackson moved to the dialing device in the center of the room while Anise steered them to where Bellis lay slumped against the wall just as the video had shown hours before. You do know he’s dead, right? Dean asked gently.
I know, Anise confirmed even as she reached out to touch him. Bellis had been her brother, her friend. Bellis had been brilliant and shy with a dry and often hidden sense of humor. His host Jothy had been witty and charming and amazingly good at sex. Anise had loved them both.
There was a faint noise behind them and Dean spun to face Major Carter. “Are you alright?” the woman asked, concerned.
“I’m good,” Dean said, wiping away Anise’s unmanly tears with a sweep of his arm. “Anise needed a minute,” he explained.
Major Carter nodded in understanding. “Did you know him?”
Anise helped Dean resist the urge to roll his eyes. How could have Dean possibly even met the man? He’d never even been off the planet before. “No, I didn’t,” Dean said with a lot less snark than he might have wanted, “but Anise did. His name was Bellis.”
“Bellis?” The Major repeated, confusion clear on her face. “I thought he was, um, older.”
Anise blinked, taken aback. She’d forgotten that Major Carter had once been a host. How strange it must be for her to be alone in her own head. “His host Iyarus was killed shortly after Jolinar. This”-Anise gestured to the body-“was Jothy.”
“Are you kids ready to move out?” Colonel O’Neill interrupted their awkward little conversation. Major Carter looked abashed at the implied criticisms, but Anise moved to join the Colonel at the door with Dean’s head held high. The Colonel eyed them critically as they approached. “You think you can handle point?” he asked Dean.
Dean grinned. “I’d handle it better with one of those babies,” he said, gesturing to the P90 the Colonel cradled in his arms. He still couldn’t believe they hadn’t even let him try one at the range. He had never used one before, but Dean was sure he would have gotten the hang of it.
The Colonel clutched his gun tighter to his chest and gestured Dean onward. Dean drew his Berreta and stepped into the corridor keeping a careful eye on side passages and alcoves. Colonel O’Neill fell in beside him with the rest of the team trailing behind. “So, where are we headed here?” the older man asked.
Anise hesitated. They had an understanding and while Dean could relay the information, it would be inconvenient and time consuming. Look, its cool, Dean assured her. You do the talking and I’ll hold the gun. Then later we can try walking and chewing gum.
What? Why must the Tau’ri be so confusing?
Dean sighs silently. Just answer the man.
The tunnel they were in ran for nearly 20 feet before it forked into three paths; left, right and center. “The outpost is built on the remains of an Ancient compound,” Anise began as they walked. Dean, true to his word, held the gun steady.
“Wait,” Dr. Jackson interrupted eagerly from behind. “Do you mean the Ancients, the gate builders?” he asked excitedly.
“Yes,” Anise nodded. “From what we have been able to tell, this was some sort of research facility. Much of the original structure has collapsed, but the main laboratory remained intact. There is a concealed passageway to it accessible via a sleeping cell off the right-hand corridor. My contact on Dualla indicated that Anubis was looking for the laboratory.”
Explanations done, they proceeded right at the intersection with Major Carter, Dr. Jackson and Teal’c half-turning to cover the other tunnels. The right-handle corridor was lined on both sides by sleeping cells and storage rooms. It ran a good 30 feet before making a sharp turn that eventually connected back to the main tunnel to form a triangle. The sleeping cell with the secret passageway was on the right, half way to the turn.
They had not gone far into the tunnel when they heard the distinct sound of stomping mailed boots and Jaffa armor coming down the corridor towards them. Colonel O’Neill silently held up his fist and the team halted behind them. He made a series of complicated gestures that Dean translated as a call to fall back. Keeping their guns trained on the approaching threat, they began to creep backwards through the tunnel. They hadn’t made it far when a shock grenade rolled out of a sleeping cell on the left.
“Aw, crap,” groaned Colonel O’Neill and the world went white.
*****
They awoke in the dark. The floor was hard and cold and there were others they could hear but not see. “Oy,” Colonel O’Neill groaned off to their left. “Is everyone alright?”
“I can’t see,” Dean announced to the room at large. His heart rate picked up markedly as he wondered if he might not be blind.
It is from the grenade, Anise explained as she worked to tamp down Dean’s panicked rush of adrenalin. The effects are temporary, she continued even as Major Carter said the same thing aloud.
The room swam into view as Dean’s vision began to return. Anise could make out four SG-1-shaped olive-green blobs, but no signs of guards. From the color of the walls, they were not on a ship, which, she supposed, was a good thing. She couldn’t make out enough of the room to determine where, exactly, in the compound they were.
“Guns are gone,” Dr. Jackson reported sounding more resigned than surprised. Anise supposed that, after the number of times SG-1 had been captured, they were probably used to it.
“Yah think?” snarked the Colonel sounding annoyed. “What about GDOs?”
Dean frowned as the conversation continued around them. His Beretta was gone, true, but he could still feel the comforting pressure of the knife in his boot and the Colt 1911 at the small of his back. Dude, I can’t believe they didn’t search us. Are these guys seriously that stupid?
Anise considered. Jaffa were not stupid, they just thought differently. The Tau’ri may have careful procedures for clearing a room to ensure they did not walk into a trap, but a Jaffa would simply stride forward, confident in the will of their gods and their own strength. Among the Jaffa it is considered dishonorable to carry concealed weapons, Anise explained.
Dean snorted in disgust. So, that would be a yes then. Jaffa maybe believe in their gods and in their honor but Dean believed in getting things done. Boy Scouts and Marines were always prepared and, while he’d never been either, Dean took their messages to heart. You needed a tool, you carried it, simple as that. “Ah, guys,” he said, reaching behind his back, “about those guns...”
3<<(4)>> 5
Fandom: Stargate SG1/Supernatural
Rating: PG
Character: Anise/Dean Winchester, Jack O’Neill, Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter, Teal’c
Disclaimer: Stargate, Supernatural and their characters are the property of their respective creators. I own nothing.
Summary: While delivering vital information to earth, Anise takes a new host.
Previous parts here
They stepped through the event horizon with Dean in control. They had argued about it for a good half an hour before Anise had conceded that even though it was her mission, Dean was the one who knew how to use the weapons. And there were a lot of weapons. There was the government-issue Beretta at his hip, his own Colt 1911 nestled at the small of his back and an iron knife with silver inlays in his boot. The General may have denied Dean his own P90, but with the vials of salt, lighter fluid and M&M’s in his pockets he felt, if not ready for anything, then certainly for a whole lot of violence.
SG-1 had begun to fan out through the room, even as Dean stumbled from the gate, still dazed and nauseated from the trip. They moved precisely, deliberately, sweeping their guns up and down, back and forth as they spread out across the room. What are they doing?
They’re clearing the room, Dean explained, his memories explaining the purpose where simple words failed. He watched SG-1 with a practiced eye as they worked, perfectly synced and acutely aware of each other despite the distance. They’re good, he added, his approval tinged with a hint of sadness. He’d been part of a team like that once.
“Clear,” the Colonel declared. He and Teal’c took up position on either side of the room’s only door, couching down to present smaller targets with their weapons trained on the corridor. “Daniel, send the MALP home,” he ordered.
Dr. Jackson moved to the dialing device in the center of the room while Anise steered them to where Bellis lay slumped against the wall just as the video had shown hours before. You do know he’s dead, right? Dean asked gently.
I know, Anise confirmed even as she reached out to touch him. Bellis had been her brother, her friend. Bellis had been brilliant and shy with a dry and often hidden sense of humor. His host Jothy had been witty and charming and amazingly good at sex. Anise had loved them both.
There was a faint noise behind them and Dean spun to face Major Carter. “Are you alright?” the woman asked, concerned.
“I’m good,” Dean said, wiping away Anise’s unmanly tears with a sweep of his arm. “Anise needed a minute,” he explained.
Major Carter nodded in understanding. “Did you know him?”
Anise helped Dean resist the urge to roll his eyes. How could have Dean possibly even met the man? He’d never even been off the planet before. “No, I didn’t,” Dean said with a lot less snark than he might have wanted, “but Anise did. His name was Bellis.”
“Bellis?” The Major repeated, confusion clear on her face. “I thought he was, um, older.”
Anise blinked, taken aback. She’d forgotten that Major Carter had once been a host. How strange it must be for her to be alone in her own head. “His host Iyarus was killed shortly after Jolinar. This”-Anise gestured to the body-“was Jothy.”
“Are you kids ready to move out?” Colonel O’Neill interrupted their awkward little conversation. Major Carter looked abashed at the implied criticisms, but Anise moved to join the Colonel at the door with Dean’s head held high. The Colonel eyed them critically as they approached. “You think you can handle point?” he asked Dean.
Dean grinned. “I’d handle it better with one of those babies,” he said, gesturing to the P90 the Colonel cradled in his arms. He still couldn’t believe they hadn’t even let him try one at the range. He had never used one before, but Dean was sure he would have gotten the hang of it.
The Colonel clutched his gun tighter to his chest and gestured Dean onward. Dean drew his Berreta and stepped into the corridor keeping a careful eye on side passages and alcoves. Colonel O’Neill fell in beside him with the rest of the team trailing behind. “So, where are we headed here?” the older man asked.
Anise hesitated. They had an understanding and while Dean could relay the information, it would be inconvenient and time consuming. Look, its cool, Dean assured her. You do the talking and I’ll hold the gun. Then later we can try walking and chewing gum.
What? Why must the Tau’ri be so confusing?
Dean sighs silently. Just answer the man.
The tunnel they were in ran for nearly 20 feet before it forked into three paths; left, right and center. “The outpost is built on the remains of an Ancient compound,” Anise began as they walked. Dean, true to his word, held the gun steady.
“Wait,” Dr. Jackson interrupted eagerly from behind. “Do you mean the Ancients, the gate builders?” he asked excitedly.
“Yes,” Anise nodded. “From what we have been able to tell, this was some sort of research facility. Much of the original structure has collapsed, but the main laboratory remained intact. There is a concealed passageway to it accessible via a sleeping cell off the right-hand corridor. My contact on Dualla indicated that Anubis was looking for the laboratory.”
Explanations done, they proceeded right at the intersection with Major Carter, Dr. Jackson and Teal’c half-turning to cover the other tunnels. The right-handle corridor was lined on both sides by sleeping cells and storage rooms. It ran a good 30 feet before making a sharp turn that eventually connected back to the main tunnel to form a triangle. The sleeping cell with the secret passageway was on the right, half way to the turn.
They had not gone far into the tunnel when they heard the distinct sound of stomping mailed boots and Jaffa armor coming down the corridor towards them. Colonel O’Neill silently held up his fist and the team halted behind them. He made a series of complicated gestures that Dean translated as a call to fall back. Keeping their guns trained on the approaching threat, they began to creep backwards through the tunnel. They hadn’t made it far when a shock grenade rolled out of a sleeping cell on the left.
“Aw, crap,” groaned Colonel O’Neill and the world went white.
*****
They awoke in the dark. The floor was hard and cold and there were others they could hear but not see. “Oy,” Colonel O’Neill groaned off to their left. “Is everyone alright?”
“I can’t see,” Dean announced to the room at large. His heart rate picked up markedly as he wondered if he might not be blind.
It is from the grenade, Anise explained as she worked to tamp down Dean’s panicked rush of adrenalin. The effects are temporary, she continued even as Major Carter said the same thing aloud.
The room swam into view as Dean’s vision began to return. Anise could make out four SG-1-shaped olive-green blobs, but no signs of guards. From the color of the walls, they were not on a ship, which, she supposed, was a good thing. She couldn’t make out enough of the room to determine where, exactly, in the compound they were.
“Guns are gone,” Dr. Jackson reported sounding more resigned than surprised. Anise supposed that, after the number of times SG-1 had been captured, they were probably used to it.
“Yah think?” snarked the Colonel sounding annoyed. “What about GDOs?”
Dean frowned as the conversation continued around them. His Beretta was gone, true, but he could still feel the comforting pressure of the knife in his boot and the Colt 1911 at the small of his back. Dude, I can’t believe they didn’t search us. Are these guys seriously that stupid?
Anise considered. Jaffa were not stupid, they just thought differently. The Tau’ri may have careful procedures for clearing a room to ensure they did not walk into a trap, but a Jaffa would simply stride forward, confident in the will of their gods and their own strength. Among the Jaffa it is considered dishonorable to carry concealed weapons, Anise explained.
Dean snorted in disgust. So, that would be a yes then. Jaffa maybe believe in their gods and in their honor but Dean believed in getting things done. Boy Scouts and Marines were always prepared and, while he’d never been either, Dean took their messages to heart. You needed a tool, you carried it, simple as that. “Ah, guys,” he said, reaching behind his back, “about those guns...”
3<<(4)>> 5