On the Outside, Looking In (Season Three)
The third in the On the Outside, Looking In series: episode-related drabbles from the perspective of an outsider or a minor character. There's one here for every episode from Season Three. Rated PG.
Into the Fire
He spoke with such passion, such belief in his own words. The cries of sholva! and lies! did not deter him. She felt her own doubts waver in the face of Teal'c's strength of will.
"Who will join me?" the former First Prime challenged, and almost she stepped forward...
But the power of speech was not enough. With a pang of regret, she retreated to the safety of darkness, the tired familiarity of servitude. Perhaps, one day, she would join Teal'c in his grandly hopeless quest; but for now, her will to live was stronger than the desire to rebel.
Seth
Tom stumbles and looks around, bewildered. It isn't as if he suddenly forgot what he's doing; he's fully aware that he's taking these three infidels to be justly killed for their wickedness. The only thing he doesn't understand is why he's doing it.
"What happened?" he manages.
"It's okay," says the woman who just shot him. "We're here to help you."
Tom has no reason to believe her. But his own recent actions replay themselves in his head, and he realizes that he doesn't have a reason to believe anything, right now. So he might as well follow their lead.
Fair Game
"Code Nine!" Hammond shouted. With the Gateroom erupting in chaos, an officer appeared at his elbow, urging him to move. Shaken, Simms allowed himself to be taken to a more secure location.
He'd been standing right there, not three minutes before O'Neill disappeared. What power could reach 28 levels below the earth to snatch a person out of apparent safety?
He hadn't been exaggerating when he declared that he admired the SGC personnel and devoured their mission reports like bedtime stories. But now, waiting to hear what happened to O'Neill, Simms thought uneasily of monsters. They were part of stories, too.
Legacy
He'd held off on the latest round of meds, but MacKenzie wasn't taking any chances. He wanted to believe that Jackson had miraculously recovered, of course. But it seemed too good to be true.
He had Jackson's own challenge of proof, though. It was a good place to start.
MacKenzie patiently navigated the passwords and code phrases that would get him direct access to the SGC's infirmary. Finally, he had Frasier on the line.
"MacKenzie," he identified himself crisply. "One quick question for you, Doctor -- is Teal'c all right?"
The too-long pause told him all he needed to know.
Learning Curve
Tomin looked up at his father's anxious gaze, trying to memorize his tender expression. He wondered if there was some primal instinct that would allow him to recall how much his father truly loved him, even when his nanites were removed and he joined the other Urrone in their everlasting now.
"My dear son," Kanan said again. "Are you sure that you choose to undergo an early Averium?"
"Yes." Tomin stood a little straighter. "It would not be wise to wait six months. Orban needs this information processed as possible."
Kanan clasped his shoulder. "Very well, Tomin. They await you."
Point of View
He screamed his throat raw as agony raced along every nerve. He'd abandoned stoicism long ago.
The Jaffa lifted the torture stick, breaking contact and giving him a moment to breathe. Hammond swallowed bile, trying to muster the strength to endure another round.
The planet was overrun by Apophis' armies; there was no hope for rescue. As long as he resisted interrogation, though, the President was safe at the Beta Site. It was, perhaps, small comfort. But as the Jaffa jabbed him with the stick again and pain flooded his being, Hammond thought that he'd take whatever he could get.
Deadman's Switch
Boch, tensed and ready, watched as his quarry neared the perimeter of the force field. He'd baited the trap carefully: damaging the Tau'ri's spy drone so it could not fly, yet leaving its instrumentation intact so they could track it easily. There had been no guarantee that SG-1 would be sent to retrieve it, of course, but his sensors confirmed his hopes -- O'Neill, Carter, Jackson, and Teal'c had just stepped into the boundaries of his trap.
He counted off ten slow breaths before he activated the force field. For now, they were secure. Time for the real hunt to begin.
Demons
The Unas staggered, clawed fingers splayed uselessly in a futile effort to stem the leaking wounds. It fell to its knees in a puddle of green blood.
The Goa'uld, contemptuous, abandoned its dying host. It had served well enough these past centuries, but now it had failed. Time for a new one.
As it slithered out of the slack mouth, the Goa'uld sensed the approach of another potential host. Ah, the canon of the village. It would do nicely, as soon as the annoying offworlders were dealt with. The Goa'uld waited for the canon to venture closer, then leapt upward.
Rules of Engagement
Pain made thinking difficult, but as Rogers squinted at the portly man standing over his stretcher, a feeling of dread crept though him that had nothing to do with his fear of dying.
"My lord?" he stammered. "Where is Apophis?"
The truth slowly sank in. These people had not been sent by Apophis after all! He was in the hands of the enemy!
"Liars!" he screamed, thrashing against the restraining hands. "Traitors! You will be punished! He will avenge me!"
They strapped him down and took him off to be tortured. Rogers closed his eyes and silently vowed to resist.
Forever in a Day
When the explosions began, Kasuf's haggard face lightened with a grim smile. He well remembered the thunder of the Tau'ri's weapons that struck down Ra. Now Danyel and his people were coming to destroy this new demon that had stolen his daughter's body, then also stolen her son.
O'Neill released Kasuf and the others from their makeshift prison. But instead of fleeing to safety, Kasuf ran to warn Danyel. He understood the need to separate the face and voice of his beloved daughter from the demon that wore her body, but he worried that Danyel would only see his Sha're.
Past and Present
She opens her eyes slowly, blinking. She is lying down, with several people standing nearby. Frowning, she tries to remember what happened.
Her heartbeat accelerates as she realizes that doesn't remember anything. Not where she is, not why she is here. She doesn't recognize the woman who bends over to examine her, nor the two men standing silently nearby.
She doesn't even know her own name!
"It's all right, Kira," the woman says calmly, and Kira seizes frantically on the name as something. "You're doing fine."
"Now, anyway," one man adds quietly, and Kira wonders why he sounds so sad.
Jolinar's Memories
Blistering heat. Aching joints. A good friend curled up against his spinal cord, weak and wounded. Jacob huddled in his corner and tried to breathe through the pain.
When the soft sound of his daughter's voice first penetrated the fever haze, Jacob wasn't sure if he was dreaming or hallucinating. Discovering that Sam was real, actually there on Netu, didn't seem like a better option.
"Are you crazy?" he breathed, torn between fear, exasperation, and (though he didn't want to admit it) relief.
"Apparently," O'Neill said dryly, and Selmac's faint huff of laughter gave Jacob fresh hope that they'd survive.
The Devil You Know
Aldwin picked himself up the floor and staggered towards the entrance, but the door didn't open. Teal'c must have locked it.
Aldwin hardly blamed him. He'd hated the necessity of sentencing two of his oldest and closest friends to death. He could only imagine how Teal'c felt about the impending loss of his own friends, the humans of SG-1.
He pressed his ear to the locked door, straining to hear the garbled crackle of their exchange. Were they really going to use the ring platform, despite the hopeless impossibility?
Shouting urgent advice, Aldwin hoped that Teal'c could achieve a miracle.
Foothold
Paul's eyes abruptly snapped open.
"What the...?" he muttered, then saw where he was. Only years of training --- and exposure to the everyday insanity that was the norm at the SGC -- kept him from screaming at the realization that he was suspended in a harness, dangling in midair, with no recollection of how he got there.
"Who's that?" a voice called sharply, and Paul sagged with relief when he identified Colonel O'Neill's voice. It wasn't just the thought of moral support, either. He might read the reports and deal with the aftermath, but O'Neill knew how to handle the crazy.
Pretense
Klorel raged impotently, trapped and silenced by the device that the cursed Tollans had used on its host. How dare they interfere with its rightful claim on the Abydon! How could mere slaves even think that they could control the Goa'uld, their rightful gods and masters?
As the host babbled at the Tau'ri, cravenly begging for assistance, Klorel relaxed its coils and forced itself to be calm. Zipacna was coming and would arrange matters appropriately. The Tollan would pay for their interference when their planet was reduced to smoking ashes. Revenge, Klorel thought with fierce satisfaction, would be undeniably sweet.
Urgo
Three years of the unexpected taught Janet to take the most bizarre circumstances in stride. From the horror of Goa'uld infestation to the danger of alien bacteria to the whimsical oddities that teams brought back from off-world, she learned how to deal with each successive crisis with smooth efficiency.
This one, though, was beyond her. There seemed to be no way to remove Urgo from SG-1's collective perception.
She tried to console herself with the knowledge that they would figure it out eventually... and when they did solve the problem, she'd be left with plenty of blackmail material.
100 Days
Death streaked out of the sky, the enchanting display of the fire rain of other years suddenly turned into destruction. They would all die!
"The caves!" blurted Garan, grabbing Naytha's arm. "Doctor Jackson said our ancestors survived there!"
"But some people talked about the Stone Circle..."
"I don't know about the Stone Circle. I do know the caves will be safe."
Naytha hesitated, afraid to venture out into the open. But as the fire rain thundered down and one great, smoking rock struck the ground with a force that knocked both of them off their feet, Naytha followed Garan's lead.
Shades of Grey
Makepeace raised his brows at the unexpected news. O'Neill, part of the team now? The guy might be a maverick, but going rogue?
When he thought about it, though, he realized that it made sense. O'Neill was a little crazy, but he was also a good leader. He wouldn't like seeing people lost for lack of intel or inadequate support. Like Makepeace, O'Neill must've concluded that keeping the world safe -- not to mention those under his command -- had to be their top priority.
"Once a Special Forces op," he muttered, allowing himself a twisted smile, and got back to work.
New Ground
Mallen ran, panting, away from Nyan's shouts and that horrible thing and the Gateway, no it can't be the Gateway it's an Optrican trick...
She didn't stop until breath ran out and her side stabbed a painful protest. Then, wheezing slightly, she staggered to a nearby rock and collapsed onto it, trying to think.
Nyan was pure scientist, singlemindedly apolitical, and she'd always admired him for it. But Mallen knew that it was too dangerous to ignore all the implications. If this wasn't reported, Security would have them killed.
Reluctantly, she trudged back to their campsite to make the call.
Maternal Instinct
Major Coburn stepped warily through the Stargate, his team alert and ready. He radioed SG-1 for a sitrep.
To his surprise, O'Neill responded immediately, assuring him that they were secure. What happened to all those gliders and troops? Could the Jaffa have just disappeared?
Then the Stargate suddenly activated, and the dark sky lit with a streak of light heading their way. Gulping, Coburn reported this new development.
O'Neill stressed it: Don't engage. Put down your weapons. Get out of the way.
The streak came closer, and Coburn hurriedly complied with O'Neill's orders. He wasn't going to try fighting light.
Crystal Skull
Nick glanced briefly at the apparition of his grandson standing in the corner, then looked away. "I miss him," he murmured.
Strange that he should envision Daniel dressed in army-like fatigues, his hair cut in an unfamiliar, short style. Perhaps it was because the military were coming to speak to him?
He tried to ignore ghostly Daniel as he spoke, focusing instead on the three strangers who entered the room.
A friend of Daniel's, the doctor had said.
Trust them, the image of Daniel insisted.
Nick wasn't sure. But when they spoke of another crystal skull, all doubts vanished.
Nemesis
Detect. Examine. Assess. Absorb. Expand. Increase.
Replicate.
Thousands of individual units -- only a small part of the single, cohesive whole that spanned the galaxies -- swarmed over the Asgard ship, endlessly communicating with the others and seamlessly working to achieve a single ultimate goal. More power. More materials. More units. More advanced technology.
More.
At the sudden flare of energy in one section of the ship, multiple units disengaged from their current activities to investigate. Inconsequentials such as biological matter or non-powered alloys could be ignored, but high-energy output indicated sources of technology to access and adapt.
More.
Replicate.
Into the Fire
He spoke with such passion, such belief in his own words. The cries of sholva! and lies! did not deter him. She felt her own doubts waver in the face of Teal'c's strength of will.
"Who will join me?" the former First Prime challenged, and almost she stepped forward...
But the power of speech was not enough. With a pang of regret, she retreated to the safety of darkness, the tired familiarity of servitude. Perhaps, one day, she would join Teal'c in his grandly hopeless quest; but for now, her will to live was stronger than the desire to rebel.
Seth
Tom stumbles and looks around, bewildered. It isn't as if he suddenly forgot what he's doing; he's fully aware that he's taking these three infidels to be justly killed for their wickedness. The only thing he doesn't understand is why he's doing it.
"What happened?" he manages.
"It's okay," says the woman who just shot him. "We're here to help you."
Tom has no reason to believe her. But his own recent actions replay themselves in his head, and he realizes that he doesn't have a reason to believe anything, right now. So he might as well follow their lead.
Fair Game
"Code Nine!" Hammond shouted. With the Gateroom erupting in chaos, an officer appeared at his elbow, urging him to move. Shaken, Simms allowed himself to be taken to a more secure location.
He'd been standing right there, not three minutes before O'Neill disappeared. What power could reach 28 levels below the earth to snatch a person out of apparent safety?
He hadn't been exaggerating when he declared that he admired the SGC personnel and devoured their mission reports like bedtime stories. But now, waiting to hear what happened to O'Neill, Simms thought uneasily of monsters. They were part of stories, too.
Legacy
He'd held off on the latest round of meds, but MacKenzie wasn't taking any chances. He wanted to believe that Jackson had miraculously recovered, of course. But it seemed too good to be true.
He had Jackson's own challenge of proof, though. It was a good place to start.
MacKenzie patiently navigated the passwords and code phrases that would get him direct access to the SGC's infirmary. Finally, he had Frasier on the line.
"MacKenzie," he identified himself crisply. "One quick question for you, Doctor -- is Teal'c all right?"
The too-long pause told him all he needed to know.
Learning Curve
Tomin looked up at his father's anxious gaze, trying to memorize his tender expression. He wondered if there was some primal instinct that would allow him to recall how much his father truly loved him, even when his nanites were removed and he joined the other Urrone in their everlasting now.
"My dear son," Kanan said again. "Are you sure that you choose to undergo an early Averium?"
"Yes." Tomin stood a little straighter. "It would not be wise to wait six months. Orban needs this information processed as possible."
Kanan clasped his shoulder. "Very well, Tomin. They await you."
Point of View
He screamed his throat raw as agony raced along every nerve. He'd abandoned stoicism long ago.
The Jaffa lifted the torture stick, breaking contact and giving him a moment to breathe. Hammond swallowed bile, trying to muster the strength to endure another round.
The planet was overrun by Apophis' armies; there was no hope for rescue. As long as he resisted interrogation, though, the President was safe at the Beta Site. It was, perhaps, small comfort. But as the Jaffa jabbed him with the stick again and pain flooded his being, Hammond thought that he'd take whatever he could get.
Deadman's Switch
Boch, tensed and ready, watched as his quarry neared the perimeter of the force field. He'd baited the trap carefully: damaging the Tau'ri's spy drone so it could not fly, yet leaving its instrumentation intact so they could track it easily. There had been no guarantee that SG-1 would be sent to retrieve it, of course, but his sensors confirmed his hopes -- O'Neill, Carter, Jackson, and Teal'c had just stepped into the boundaries of his trap.
He counted off ten slow breaths before he activated the force field. For now, they were secure. Time for the real hunt to begin.
Demons
The Unas staggered, clawed fingers splayed uselessly in a futile effort to stem the leaking wounds. It fell to its knees in a puddle of green blood.
The Goa'uld, contemptuous, abandoned its dying host. It had served well enough these past centuries, but now it had failed. Time for a new one.
As it slithered out of the slack mouth, the Goa'uld sensed the approach of another potential host. Ah, the canon of the village. It would do nicely, as soon as the annoying offworlders were dealt with. The Goa'uld waited for the canon to venture closer, then leapt upward.
Rules of Engagement
Pain made thinking difficult, but as Rogers squinted at the portly man standing over his stretcher, a feeling of dread crept though him that had nothing to do with his fear of dying.
"My lord?" he stammered. "Where is Apophis?"
The truth slowly sank in. These people had not been sent by Apophis after all! He was in the hands of the enemy!
"Liars!" he screamed, thrashing against the restraining hands. "Traitors! You will be punished! He will avenge me!"
They strapped him down and took him off to be tortured. Rogers closed his eyes and silently vowed to resist.
Forever in a Day
When the explosions began, Kasuf's haggard face lightened with a grim smile. He well remembered the thunder of the Tau'ri's weapons that struck down Ra. Now Danyel and his people were coming to destroy this new demon that had stolen his daughter's body, then also stolen her son.
O'Neill released Kasuf and the others from their makeshift prison. But instead of fleeing to safety, Kasuf ran to warn Danyel. He understood the need to separate the face and voice of his beloved daughter from the demon that wore her body, but he worried that Danyel would only see his Sha're.
Past and Present
She opens her eyes slowly, blinking. She is lying down, with several people standing nearby. Frowning, she tries to remember what happened.
Her heartbeat accelerates as she realizes that doesn't remember anything. Not where she is, not why she is here. She doesn't recognize the woman who bends over to examine her, nor the two men standing silently nearby.
She doesn't even know her own name!
"It's all right, Kira," the woman says calmly, and Kira seizes frantically on the name as something. "You're doing fine."
"Now, anyway," one man adds quietly, and Kira wonders why he sounds so sad.
Jolinar's Memories
Blistering heat. Aching joints. A good friend curled up against his spinal cord, weak and wounded. Jacob huddled in his corner and tried to breathe through the pain.
When the soft sound of his daughter's voice first penetrated the fever haze, Jacob wasn't sure if he was dreaming or hallucinating. Discovering that Sam was real, actually there on Netu, didn't seem like a better option.
"Are you crazy?" he breathed, torn between fear, exasperation, and (though he didn't want to admit it) relief.
"Apparently," O'Neill said dryly, and Selmac's faint huff of laughter gave Jacob fresh hope that they'd survive.
The Devil You Know
Aldwin picked himself up the floor and staggered towards the entrance, but the door didn't open. Teal'c must have locked it.
Aldwin hardly blamed him. He'd hated the necessity of sentencing two of his oldest and closest friends to death. He could only imagine how Teal'c felt about the impending loss of his own friends, the humans of SG-1.
He pressed his ear to the locked door, straining to hear the garbled crackle of their exchange. Were they really going to use the ring platform, despite the hopeless impossibility?
Shouting urgent advice, Aldwin hoped that Teal'c could achieve a miracle.
Foothold
Paul's eyes abruptly snapped open.
"What the...?" he muttered, then saw where he was. Only years of training --- and exposure to the everyday insanity that was the norm at the SGC -- kept him from screaming at the realization that he was suspended in a harness, dangling in midair, with no recollection of how he got there.
"Who's that?" a voice called sharply, and Paul sagged with relief when he identified Colonel O'Neill's voice. It wasn't just the thought of moral support, either. He might read the reports and deal with the aftermath, but O'Neill knew how to handle the crazy.
Pretense
Klorel raged impotently, trapped and silenced by the device that the cursed Tollans had used on its host. How dare they interfere with its rightful claim on the Abydon! How could mere slaves even think that they could control the Goa'uld, their rightful gods and masters?
As the host babbled at the Tau'ri, cravenly begging for assistance, Klorel relaxed its coils and forced itself to be calm. Zipacna was coming and would arrange matters appropriately. The Tollan would pay for their interference when their planet was reduced to smoking ashes. Revenge, Klorel thought with fierce satisfaction, would be undeniably sweet.
Urgo
Three years of the unexpected taught Janet to take the most bizarre circumstances in stride. From the horror of Goa'uld infestation to the danger of alien bacteria to the whimsical oddities that teams brought back from off-world, she learned how to deal with each successive crisis with smooth efficiency.
This one, though, was beyond her. There seemed to be no way to remove Urgo from SG-1's collective perception.
She tried to console herself with the knowledge that they would figure it out eventually... and when they did solve the problem, she'd be left with plenty of blackmail material.
100 Days
Death streaked out of the sky, the enchanting display of the fire rain of other years suddenly turned into destruction. They would all die!
"The caves!" blurted Garan, grabbing Naytha's arm. "Doctor Jackson said our ancestors survived there!"
"But some people talked about the Stone Circle..."
"I don't know about the Stone Circle. I do know the caves will be safe."
Naytha hesitated, afraid to venture out into the open. But as the fire rain thundered down and one great, smoking rock struck the ground with a force that knocked both of them off their feet, Naytha followed Garan's lead.
Shades of Grey
Makepeace raised his brows at the unexpected news. O'Neill, part of the team now? The guy might be a maverick, but going rogue?
When he thought about it, though, he realized that it made sense. O'Neill was a little crazy, but he was also a good leader. He wouldn't like seeing people lost for lack of intel or inadequate support. Like Makepeace, O'Neill must've concluded that keeping the world safe -- not to mention those under his command -- had to be their top priority.
"Once a Special Forces op," he muttered, allowing himself a twisted smile, and got back to work.
New Ground
Mallen ran, panting, away from Nyan's shouts and that horrible thing and the Gateway, no it can't be the Gateway it's an Optrican trick...
She didn't stop until breath ran out and her side stabbed a painful protest. Then, wheezing slightly, she staggered to a nearby rock and collapsed onto it, trying to think.
Nyan was pure scientist, singlemindedly apolitical, and she'd always admired him for it. But Mallen knew that it was too dangerous to ignore all the implications. If this wasn't reported, Security would have them killed.
Reluctantly, she trudged back to their campsite to make the call.
Maternal Instinct
Major Coburn stepped warily through the Stargate, his team alert and ready. He radioed SG-1 for a sitrep.
To his surprise, O'Neill responded immediately, assuring him that they were secure. What happened to all those gliders and troops? Could the Jaffa have just disappeared?
Then the Stargate suddenly activated, and the dark sky lit with a streak of light heading their way. Gulping, Coburn reported this new development.
O'Neill stressed it: Don't engage. Put down your weapons. Get out of the way.
The streak came closer, and Coburn hurriedly complied with O'Neill's orders. He wasn't going to try fighting light.
Crystal Skull
Nick glanced briefly at the apparition of his grandson standing in the corner, then looked away. "I miss him," he murmured.
Strange that he should envision Daniel dressed in army-like fatigues, his hair cut in an unfamiliar, short style. Perhaps it was because the military were coming to speak to him?
He tried to ignore ghostly Daniel as he spoke, focusing instead on the three strangers who entered the room.
A friend of Daniel's, the doctor had said.
Trust them, the image of Daniel insisted.
Nick wasn't sure. But when they spoke of another crystal skull, all doubts vanished.
Nemesis
Detect. Examine. Assess. Absorb. Expand. Increase.
Replicate.
Thousands of individual units -- only a small part of the single, cohesive whole that spanned the galaxies -- swarmed over the Asgard ship, endlessly communicating with the others and seamlessly working to achieve a single ultimate goal. More power. More materials. More units. More advanced technology.
More.
At the sudden flare of energy in one section of the ship, multiple units disengaged from their current activities to investigate. Inconsequentials such as biological matter or non-powered alloys could be ignored, but high-energy output indicated sources of technology to access and adapt.
More.
Replicate.