[Stargate: Fiction] "Mightier Than the Sword" [SG-22, G]
Title: Mightier Than the Sword
Prompt: writerverse challenge #4 ‘table of doom’ prompt #12 ‘pencils’
Word Count: 1,014
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Stargate SG-1 ( SG-22, original characters)
Pairings: none
Summary: SG-22 run into a problem with their supplies- and some Jaffa- on an off-world mission.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_bookclub
Mightier Than the Sword
“Okay,” said Air Force Captain Igraine Gryffydd, ducking back behind the walls of the crumbling ruin. “This looks bad.”
“No, really, sir,” drawled Marine Gunnery Sergeant Jason Vicks, from behind another section of wall.
She flashed a smile at him- another commanding officer might have found that remark insubordinate, but on SG-22, sarcasm was practically their second language.
Gryffydd risked another look, then ducked back again. “Yeah, real bad.”
The series of ancient, abandoned architecture was the reason they were on P3X-8812. The planet had no particular strategic or material value and no indigenous population, which was how SG-22 got tapped for the mission. They were securing and photographing the site, so that the SGC could be sure it was safe to send a science team to properly catalogue and study the place.
Gryffydd’s team had been there for three days, mapping and documenting. They still had a few more days of work to go, but Daniel Jackson had asked them to send back copies of the photos they’d taken so far, and there were a few supplies they needed. So, Gryffydd and Vicks had hiked back to the ‘gate for a pit stop back to Earth.
Only, just as they’d passed the last rubble wall, the stargate had sprung to life, letting through at least a dozen armored Jaffa warriors, who began to form ranks as they came out of the ‘gate.
“Sir?” said Vicks. “How are we going to get back to camp?”
“The back way,” she said. “Unless you’d like to get shot at?”
The ‘back way’ was through steep, rocky hills, but it was all heavily wooded and would hide them from sight the entire way back to their camp.
“I do generally prefer not to get shot,” the Marine replied.
Gryffydd grinned.
It took them twenty minutes and two scraped knees (both of them Gryffydd’s, though Vicks managed to bump an elbow and his funny bone) to make it back to their campsite.
“Trouble?” asked Second Lieutenant Walter Tobias, handing Gryffydd his canteen as she stopped beside him.
She took a swig. “Oh, yeah. Jaffa, a couple dozen of them.”
“I saw a First Prime,” added Vicks. “Lee, you got a pencil?”
Dr. Levi Flannigan patted down his pockets, producing one and a notepad. Vicks scrawled the symbol, slightly more complicated than the ones the Goa’uld usually preferred, and the sociologist frowned. “That’s got to be Dharma,” he said.
“Isn’t she married to Greg?” asked Tobias.
Gryffydd shrugged. “That’s what I thought.”
Levi scowled. “Dharma is the personification of natural law, in Hindu mythology. From the Tok’Ra reports, the Goa’uld Dharma isn’t much of a threat, only holds a couple of worlds and a few hundred Jaffa.”
“Yeah, well, that kind of makes him a threat to us,” said Vicks. “Sir, what’s our plan?”
She paused, thinking over their options. “Well, it’s not as though we can stay here until we miss our check-in, three days from now, and hope the Jaffa just don’t spot us. So, we’ll have to get back through the ‘gate. What do we have for weapons and supplies?”
“Our food and water are running a little low,” said Tobias. “But enough for a couple of days, still. We’ve got our P90s and spare clips, plus the exploratory supplies on the FRED.”
Gryffydd brightened. “That’s right. We have excavation and demolition equipment, in case we needed to clear anything out of our way- including a dozen pounds of C-4.”
Vicks headed for the motorized cart and began opening containers. He froze after the first, then opened several more quickly. “Uh, sir? It’s… it’s pencils?”
For a moment, that made no sense. “Pencils?” Gryffydd repeated.
Sure enough, the crate labeled ‘C-4’ contained nothing but neatly stacked boxes of Ticonderoga yellow no. 2 pencils.
“This is a problem,” said Gryffydd.
“They’re in all the crates,” said Tobias, opening the rest of the containers, one by one. “Every single- nope, this one is rubber bands.”
“Oh, that makes it better,” said Vicks. “Sir, the Jaffa have staff weapons. What the hell are we supposed to do with office supplies?”
Gryffydd smiled. “C’mon, boys, how many episodes of MacGyver have I made you watch?”
Forty-five minutes later, Gryffydd and Vicks were running full-tilt away from the stargate and back toward the ruins, almost all of the Jaffa on their tail. They’d left their vests behind, for speed, but it meant they had to zig and zag to avoid the staff weapons fire. Periodically, they turned to return fire, but for the most part, they just tried to stay ahead of the advancing warriors.
Rounding a curve of standing wall, they reached the stone corridor they’d been studying, and sped up. They took a running start and jumped, vaulting over a seemingly-ordinary stretch of ground. Gryffydd landed off-balance, her arms pin-wheeling, but Levi was there to catch her, even as Tobias reached out to steady Vicks. SG-22 ducked out of sight just as the Jaffa reached them, staff weapons blasting. The first ranks hit the place where Gryffydd and Vicks had left scuffs in the dust and kept moving forward.
Then, down.
The pencil-and-rubber-band mats, covered with mud, dirt and small rocks to appear like the solid ground, were no match for a squad of fully-armored Jaffa warriors. It gave way almost instantly, dumping them into the chasm below. Several more tumbled after, unable to halt their headlong rush, but a few more skidded to a frantic stop at the edge.
“Now!” yelled Gryffydd.
Scrambling up the rubble walls on opposite sides of the corridor, she and Tobias yanked out the wooden supports that held back piles of boulders, which then came crashing down on the remaining Jaffa.
When the dust settled, SG-22 crept out from behind the walls to survey the damage.
“Nice, sir,” said Vicks, appreciatively.
“Hammond is gonna love reading this mission report,” said Tobias.
“I will never think of the SATs the same way again,” muttered Levi.
Gryffydd grinned. “They say that the pen is mightier than the sword, but yellow pencils kick some serious ass.”
THE END
Current Mood:
fangirly
Prompt: writerverse challenge #4 ‘table of doom’ prompt #12 ‘pencils’
Word Count: 1,014
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Stargate SG-1 ( SG-22, original characters)
Pairings: none
Summary: SG-22 run into a problem with their supplies- and some Jaffa- on an off-world mission.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_bookclub
Mightier Than the Sword
“Okay,” said Air Force Captain Igraine Gryffydd, ducking back behind the walls of the crumbling ruin. “This looks bad.”
“No, really, sir,” drawled Marine Gunnery Sergeant Jason Vicks, from behind another section of wall.
She flashed a smile at him- another commanding officer might have found that remark insubordinate, but on SG-22, sarcasm was practically their second language.
Gryffydd risked another look, then ducked back again. “Yeah, real bad.”
The series of ancient, abandoned architecture was the reason they were on P3X-8812. The planet had no particular strategic or material value and no indigenous population, which was how SG-22 got tapped for the mission. They were securing and photographing the site, so that the SGC could be sure it was safe to send a science team to properly catalogue and study the place.
Gryffydd’s team had been there for three days, mapping and documenting. They still had a few more days of work to go, but Daniel Jackson had asked them to send back copies of the photos they’d taken so far, and there were a few supplies they needed. So, Gryffydd and Vicks had hiked back to the ‘gate for a pit stop back to Earth.
Only, just as they’d passed the last rubble wall, the stargate had sprung to life, letting through at least a dozen armored Jaffa warriors, who began to form ranks as they came out of the ‘gate.
“Sir?” said Vicks. “How are we going to get back to camp?”
“The back way,” she said. “Unless you’d like to get shot at?”
The ‘back way’ was through steep, rocky hills, but it was all heavily wooded and would hide them from sight the entire way back to their camp.
“I do generally prefer not to get shot,” the Marine replied.
Gryffydd grinned.
It took them twenty minutes and two scraped knees (both of them Gryffydd’s, though Vicks managed to bump an elbow and his funny bone) to make it back to their campsite.
“Trouble?” asked Second Lieutenant Walter Tobias, handing Gryffydd his canteen as she stopped beside him.
She took a swig. “Oh, yeah. Jaffa, a couple dozen of them.”
“I saw a First Prime,” added Vicks. “Lee, you got a pencil?”
Dr. Levi Flannigan patted down his pockets, producing one and a notepad. Vicks scrawled the symbol, slightly more complicated than the ones the Goa’uld usually preferred, and the sociologist frowned. “That’s got to be Dharma,” he said.
“Isn’t she married to Greg?” asked Tobias.
Gryffydd shrugged. “That’s what I thought.”
Levi scowled. “Dharma is the personification of natural law, in Hindu mythology. From the Tok’Ra reports, the Goa’uld Dharma isn’t much of a threat, only holds a couple of worlds and a few hundred Jaffa.”
“Yeah, well, that kind of makes him a threat to us,” said Vicks. “Sir, what’s our plan?”
She paused, thinking over their options. “Well, it’s not as though we can stay here until we miss our check-in, three days from now, and hope the Jaffa just don’t spot us. So, we’ll have to get back through the ‘gate. What do we have for weapons and supplies?”
“Our food and water are running a little low,” said Tobias. “But enough for a couple of days, still. We’ve got our P90s and spare clips, plus the exploratory supplies on the FRED.”
Gryffydd brightened. “That’s right. We have excavation and demolition equipment, in case we needed to clear anything out of our way- including a dozen pounds of C-4.”
Vicks headed for the motorized cart and began opening containers. He froze after the first, then opened several more quickly. “Uh, sir? It’s… it’s pencils?”
For a moment, that made no sense. “Pencils?” Gryffydd repeated.
Sure enough, the crate labeled ‘C-4’ contained nothing but neatly stacked boxes of Ticonderoga yellow no. 2 pencils.
“This is a problem,” said Gryffydd.
“They’re in all the crates,” said Tobias, opening the rest of the containers, one by one. “Every single- nope, this one is rubber bands.”
“Oh, that makes it better,” said Vicks. “Sir, the Jaffa have staff weapons. What the hell are we supposed to do with office supplies?”
Gryffydd smiled. “C’mon, boys, how many episodes of MacGyver have I made you watch?”
Forty-five minutes later, Gryffydd and Vicks were running full-tilt away from the stargate and back toward the ruins, almost all of the Jaffa on their tail. They’d left their vests behind, for speed, but it meant they had to zig and zag to avoid the staff weapons fire. Periodically, they turned to return fire, but for the most part, they just tried to stay ahead of the advancing warriors.
Rounding a curve of standing wall, they reached the stone corridor they’d been studying, and sped up. They took a running start and jumped, vaulting over a seemingly-ordinary stretch of ground. Gryffydd landed off-balance, her arms pin-wheeling, but Levi was there to catch her, even as Tobias reached out to steady Vicks. SG-22 ducked out of sight just as the Jaffa reached them, staff weapons blasting. The first ranks hit the place where Gryffydd and Vicks had left scuffs in the dust and kept moving forward.
Then, down.
The pencil-and-rubber-band mats, covered with mud, dirt and small rocks to appear like the solid ground, were no match for a squad of fully-armored Jaffa warriors. It gave way almost instantly, dumping them into the chasm below. Several more tumbled after, unable to halt their headlong rush, but a few more skidded to a frantic stop at the edge.
“Now!” yelled Gryffydd.
Scrambling up the rubble walls on opposite sides of the corridor, she and Tobias yanked out the wooden supports that held back piles of boulders, which then came crashing down on the remaining Jaffa.
When the dust settled, SG-22 crept out from behind the walls to survey the damage.
“Nice, sir,” said Vicks, appreciatively.
“Hammond is gonna love reading this mission report,” said Tobias.
“I will never think of the SATs the same way again,” muttered Levi.
Gryffydd grinned. “They say that the pen is mightier than the sword, but yellow pencils kick some serious ass.”
THE END
Current Mood:
fangirly