Stargate SG-1 Fic: No Shelter Beneath The Suns
Title: No Shelter Beneath The Suns
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Major Sam Carter, Teal’c, Major Castleman, Colonel O’Neill, Others.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1044
Spoilers: The Fifth Race.
Summary: Stuck on an alien planet with two suns and nowhere to shelter from their burning rays, Carter desperately tries to find a way to fix the DHD and get herself, Teal’c, and Major Castleman home.
Written For: Challenge 264: Shelter at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Stargate: SG-1, or the characters. They belong to their creators.
Carter knew they were in trouble the moment the DHD locked up mid-dial as they were attempting to send the MALP back, but at that point she was still blissfully unaware of just how bad it was going to get. Then the second sun had started to rise. There was no obvious shelter anywhere; as far as the eye could see there was nothing but featureless desert, an endless sea of sand from one horizon to the other. This wasn’t her first time on a desert world, but she thought she’d never seen anywhere so completely devoid of life.
The only evidence that there had ever been anything other than sand here was the DHD itself. Had an advanced civilisation once survived here? And if so, then how had they managed? The MALP wasn’t registering any kind of water source within the range its sensors were capable of collecting accurate data, and the air tasted dry as dust in her mouth. The only moisture this place had known, probably in millennia, was the sweat currently seeping from the team’s skin, only to evaporate almost instantaneously in the hot, arid wind, doing nothing to cool them.
She seriously doubted they’d find anything to help the Colonel here; if there’d ever been anything to find it was long gone. All they’d done was make an already bad situation worse because if they couldn’t dial out, they had no way of getting back to earth, or even of contacting the SGC for further assistance. The temperature had been increasing rapidly ever since the unanticipated second sunrise, and she didn’t need to be a scientist to deduce that it was only going to get hotter. The second sun was so much closer to the planet than the first, and blazing white hot in the sky; they’d be cooked long before it set again.
She and her colleagues were attempting to fix whatever was wrong with the DHD, but so far all their efforts were proving fruitless. Teal’c’s attempt to dial out manually had been interrupted when the SGC had contacted them after they failed to return the probe on schedule. Thank God for military protocol; at least it meant they could warn General Hammond not to send a rescue team. There was no sense in stranding more personnel here, but the timing had been inconvenient to say the least. However, the second attempt at a manual dial had failed as well, leaving them no better off than they had been before, and after trying everything she could think of, Carter was just about out of ideas. She relayed that information the next time the SGC made contact, but it was beginning to look like they wouldn’t make it home from this one.
Major Castleman, who was leading the team in place of Colonel O’Neill, had scouted the immediate area looking for any kind of shelter, a cave or a crevasse where they might be able to get out of the blazing heat of the suns, but unsurprisingly he’d found nothing; it had been a long shot at best. Not that they would have been much cooler in the shade, if there had been any; the air was so hot every breath seemed to scorch their lungs, dehydrating them from the inside as well as the outside.
Their diminishing water supplies were already practically hot enough to make coffee with; the SGC had sent more, along with quantities of ice, but that melted within moments and the water was soon almost as hot as what they already had. They drank it anyway; what choice did they have? Without water they’d die. They probably would anyway, but it wasn’t in their nature to just give up. They’d keep trying to get home until all hope was gone, and even then, they’d continue until they were no longer physically able to. None of them were quitters, not even when all the odds were stacked against them.
The scientists back at the SGC suggested sending a field tent enhanced with Mylar to shield them from the sun’s rays, along with air coolers that would operate off standard portable generators. Carter knew they were trying their best, but their suggestions would have been laughable if the situation weren’t so dire. What good would a tent and a couple of air coolers do against projected temperatures of over two hundred degrees Fahrenheit? None, quite honestly, but they were dispatched anyway; Carter guessed it made the people back home feel they were at least doing something to help, however pointless and ineffective it might be. There was little doubt they’d all be dead by the end of the day unless someone came up with a way to get them home.
It was ironic, or maybe more a kind of karma, that it was Colonel O’Neill himself who came up with the solution to their problem. They’d come to this hellish planet looking for some way to help him after he got the contents of an alien database downloaded into his brain, and it was that very information which enabled him to produce complete schematics of the DHD and what amounted to step-by-step instructions on how to fix it.
Stepping though the Stargate, the temperature in the gateroom felt almost cold in comparison to where she’d been just moments before, and it was sheer bliss, soothing her sunburned skin like a balm. Carter swore to herself that she’d never again complain about the weather being too hot; nothing she’d ever experienced on earth had even come close to the broiling she’d just endured. They’d all believed their goose was well and truly cooked this time, and yet here they were, alive and more or less in one piece; it hardly seemed possible that it could be real. She almost expected to wake up and find she’d merely passed out from the heat and dreamed their rescue, but if it was a dream it was the most realistic one she’d ever had.
All she wanted now was a cool shower and a cold drink, but that would no doubt have to wait until after a trip to the infirmary; sometimes, military protocol was a pain in the ass. Still, she’d never felt more relieved to be home.
The End
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Major Sam Carter, Teal’c, Major Castleman, Colonel O’Neill, Others.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1044
Spoilers: The Fifth Race.
Summary: Stuck on an alien planet with two suns and nowhere to shelter from their burning rays, Carter desperately tries to find a way to fix the DHD and get herself, Teal’c, and Major Castleman home.
Written For: Challenge 264: Shelter at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Stargate: SG-1, or the characters. They belong to their creators.
Carter knew they were in trouble the moment the DHD locked up mid-dial as they were attempting to send the MALP back, but at that point she was still blissfully unaware of just how bad it was going to get. Then the second sun had started to rise. There was no obvious shelter anywhere; as far as the eye could see there was nothing but featureless desert, an endless sea of sand from one horizon to the other. This wasn’t her first time on a desert world, but she thought she’d never seen anywhere so completely devoid of life.
The only evidence that there had ever been anything other than sand here was the DHD itself. Had an advanced civilisation once survived here? And if so, then how had they managed? The MALP wasn’t registering any kind of water source within the range its sensors were capable of collecting accurate data, and the air tasted dry as dust in her mouth. The only moisture this place had known, probably in millennia, was the sweat currently seeping from the team’s skin, only to evaporate almost instantaneously in the hot, arid wind, doing nothing to cool them.
She seriously doubted they’d find anything to help the Colonel here; if there’d ever been anything to find it was long gone. All they’d done was make an already bad situation worse because if they couldn’t dial out, they had no way of getting back to earth, or even of contacting the SGC for further assistance. The temperature had been increasing rapidly ever since the unanticipated second sunrise, and she didn’t need to be a scientist to deduce that it was only going to get hotter. The second sun was so much closer to the planet than the first, and blazing white hot in the sky; they’d be cooked long before it set again.
She and her colleagues were attempting to fix whatever was wrong with the DHD, but so far all their efforts were proving fruitless. Teal’c’s attempt to dial out manually had been interrupted when the SGC had contacted them after they failed to return the probe on schedule. Thank God for military protocol; at least it meant they could warn General Hammond not to send a rescue team. There was no sense in stranding more personnel here, but the timing had been inconvenient to say the least. However, the second attempt at a manual dial had failed as well, leaving them no better off than they had been before, and after trying everything she could think of, Carter was just about out of ideas. She relayed that information the next time the SGC made contact, but it was beginning to look like they wouldn’t make it home from this one.
Major Castleman, who was leading the team in place of Colonel O’Neill, had scouted the immediate area looking for any kind of shelter, a cave or a crevasse where they might be able to get out of the blazing heat of the suns, but unsurprisingly he’d found nothing; it had been a long shot at best. Not that they would have been much cooler in the shade, if there had been any; the air was so hot every breath seemed to scorch their lungs, dehydrating them from the inside as well as the outside.
Their diminishing water supplies were already practically hot enough to make coffee with; the SGC had sent more, along with quantities of ice, but that melted within moments and the water was soon almost as hot as what they already had. They drank it anyway; what choice did they have? Without water they’d die. They probably would anyway, but it wasn’t in their nature to just give up. They’d keep trying to get home until all hope was gone, and even then, they’d continue until they were no longer physically able to. None of them were quitters, not even when all the odds were stacked against them.
The scientists back at the SGC suggested sending a field tent enhanced with Mylar to shield them from the sun’s rays, along with air coolers that would operate off standard portable generators. Carter knew they were trying their best, but their suggestions would have been laughable if the situation weren’t so dire. What good would a tent and a couple of air coolers do against projected temperatures of over two hundred degrees Fahrenheit? None, quite honestly, but they were dispatched anyway; Carter guessed it made the people back home feel they were at least doing something to help, however pointless and ineffective it might be. There was little doubt they’d all be dead by the end of the day unless someone came up with a way to get them home.
It was ironic, or maybe more a kind of karma, that it was Colonel O’Neill himself who came up with the solution to their problem. They’d come to this hellish planet looking for some way to help him after he got the contents of an alien database downloaded into his brain, and it was that very information which enabled him to produce complete schematics of the DHD and what amounted to step-by-step instructions on how to fix it.
Stepping though the Stargate, the temperature in the gateroom felt almost cold in comparison to where she’d been just moments before, and it was sheer bliss, soothing her sunburned skin like a balm. Carter swore to herself that she’d never again complain about the weather being too hot; nothing she’d ever experienced on earth had even come close to the broiling she’d just endured. They’d all believed their goose was well and truly cooked this time, and yet here they were, alive and more or less in one piece; it hardly seemed possible that it could be real. She almost expected to wake up and find she’d merely passed out from the heat and dreamed their rescue, but if it was a dream it was the most realistic one she’d ever had.
All she wanted now was a cool shower and a cold drink, but that would no doubt have to wait until after a trip to the infirmary; sometimes, military protocol was a pain in the ass. Still, she’d never felt more relieved to be home.
The End