[Stargate: Drabble] "All for One" [SG-22, G]
Title: All for One
Prompt: writerverse challenge #6 quick fic #2 (‘Marine’)
Word Count: 553
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Stargate SG-1 ( SG-22, original characters)
Pairings: none
Summary: SG-22 was the only team with a single Marine.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_bookclub
All for One
There were plenty of Marines in the SGC. Most were part of the large contingent, back-up teams and special forces. A couple of SG teams were entirely Marines, but most teams had no Marines at all.
SG-22 was the only team with a single Marine.
Usually, Gunnery Sergeant Jason Vicks didn’t mind that. His team wasn’t on the frontlines- they were most often assigned to escort scientists, continue communications with ally worlds, or document potential scientific sites- and he was more than happy to be the ‘brawn’ to his teammates’ brains.
But, at the moment, his brawn wasn’t doing him any good. Vicks was strung up by his wrists, feet barely touching the floor, in a Goa’uld dungeon. Only this one seemed to be located along the building’s main corridor, so passersby could get a good look at him through the heavy grate.
Vicks kept still, not acknowledging how much his wrists were starting to hurt. He was a Marine. He could endure much worse than this. And at least his team was safe.
Still, an awful part of his brain couldn’t help pointing out that if he’d been on one of the Marine teams, he might not have been captured. If he didn’t have to worry about two Zoomie officers and a civilian, he might have seen that stun blast coming.
Sudden movement in the previously-quiet corridor caught his attention. A single Jaffa guard led two priestesses, wearing thick cloaks over their jeweled gowns. Another Jaffa appeared from the opposite direction. His helmet was down, and he was frowning.
“You are not authorized-” he began, but one of the priestesses darted forward. Vicks caught a flash of copper hair as she drew back her hood and pulled a ‘zat from the folds of her gown, stunning the Jaffa before he could raise the alarm.
“Jase, you okay?” the priestess asked, while their escort Jaffa opened his cell.
“Sir?” He blinked, but under the heavy makeup (including a drawn-on Jaffa ‘tattoo’) it was Captain Igraine Gryffydd, his commanding officer. She released his manacles, checking him for injuries while he rubbed his wrists.
“Toby, take the door,” she told the conscious guard- who had to be her second, Lieutenant Tobias. “Jason, you good?”
He nodded. “How-?”
The second priestess dragged the fallen Jaffa fully into the cell. She began removing the armor, which she collected and brought over to them. “Here.”
Vicks blinked twice at her- him. “Levi?”
The sociologist wore the same gown and makeup as their CO. “Put this on, Jason,” he said. “And hurry up. This dress itches.”
Levi helped him into the armor, while Gryffydd produced an eyebrow pencil and drew on his forehead tattoo.
“Jase, I know you’re hurt,” she said. “But you’ve got to make this look convincing if we’re gonna make it back out of here.”
Vicks straightened under the heavy armor. “Yes, sir. I’m a Marine.”
“I know,” said Gryffydd, smiling. “Helmets and hoods up. Let’s move out.”
Vicks’s back ached, but he held himself straight, keeping pace with his team.
If he had belonged to a Marine unit, he might not have been captured. But if he didn’t have two Air Force officers and a civilian worrying about him, he might not have gotten rescued.
And certainly not in this kind of style.
THE END
Current Mood:
frustrated
Prompt: writerverse challenge #6 quick fic #2 (‘Marine’)
Word Count: 553
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Stargate SG-1 ( SG-22, original characters)
Pairings: none
Summary: SG-22 was the only team with a single Marine.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_bookclub
All for One
There were plenty of Marines in the SGC. Most were part of the large contingent, back-up teams and special forces. A couple of SG teams were entirely Marines, but most teams had no Marines at all.
SG-22 was the only team with a single Marine.
Usually, Gunnery Sergeant Jason Vicks didn’t mind that. His team wasn’t on the frontlines- they were most often assigned to escort scientists, continue communications with ally worlds, or document potential scientific sites- and he was more than happy to be the ‘brawn’ to his teammates’ brains.
But, at the moment, his brawn wasn’t doing him any good. Vicks was strung up by his wrists, feet barely touching the floor, in a Goa’uld dungeon. Only this one seemed to be located along the building’s main corridor, so passersby could get a good look at him through the heavy grate.
Vicks kept still, not acknowledging how much his wrists were starting to hurt. He was a Marine. He could endure much worse than this. And at least his team was safe.
Still, an awful part of his brain couldn’t help pointing out that if he’d been on one of the Marine teams, he might not have been captured. If he didn’t have to worry about two Zoomie officers and a civilian, he might have seen that stun blast coming.
Sudden movement in the previously-quiet corridor caught his attention. A single Jaffa guard led two priestesses, wearing thick cloaks over their jeweled gowns. Another Jaffa appeared from the opposite direction. His helmet was down, and he was frowning.
“You are not authorized-” he began, but one of the priestesses darted forward. Vicks caught a flash of copper hair as she drew back her hood and pulled a ‘zat from the folds of her gown, stunning the Jaffa before he could raise the alarm.
“Jase, you okay?” the priestess asked, while their escort Jaffa opened his cell.
“Sir?” He blinked, but under the heavy makeup (including a drawn-on Jaffa ‘tattoo’) it was Captain Igraine Gryffydd, his commanding officer. She released his manacles, checking him for injuries while he rubbed his wrists.
“Toby, take the door,” she told the conscious guard- who had to be her second, Lieutenant Tobias. “Jason, you good?”
He nodded. “How-?”
The second priestess dragged the fallen Jaffa fully into the cell. She began removing the armor, which she collected and brought over to them. “Here.”
Vicks blinked twice at her- him. “Levi?”
The sociologist wore the same gown and makeup as their CO. “Put this on, Jason,” he said. “And hurry up. This dress itches.”
Levi helped him into the armor, while Gryffydd produced an eyebrow pencil and drew on his forehead tattoo.
“Jase, I know you’re hurt,” she said. “But you’ve got to make this look convincing if we’re gonna make it back out of here.”
Vicks straightened under the heavy armor. “Yes, sir. I’m a Marine.”
“I know,” said Gryffydd, smiling. “Helmets and hoods up. Let’s move out.”
Vicks’s back ached, but he held himself straight, keeping pace with his team.
If he had belonged to a Marine unit, he might not have been captured. But if he didn’t have two Air Force officers and a civilian worrying about him, he might not have gotten rescued.
And certainly not in this kind of style.
THE END
Current Mood:
frustrated