On the Outside, Looking In (Season Four)
The fourth 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 Four. Rated PG.
Small Victories
After two rings, Paul reached for the phone. "Davis," he said absently, eyes still focused on the SGC's completed mission report on the Replicators and Thor's ship.
Then the hurried words of the caller sank in, and he swiveled away from his desk, gripping the receiver tightly.
"No further transmissions? Has anyone approached? The Nemitz. Yes, I see." He listened a moment longer, then sighed. "Right. We'll want to -- did you say study them? Isn't that a bit... Yes, sir. I'm on it."
Paul hung up and grimaced at the now-defunct paperwork: not such a final report, after all.
The Other Side
Farrell struggled to maintain her patience as Doctor Jackson blathered about his own ancestry. At least he, unlike the Jaffa, was of pure blood. Yet his wit seemed somewhat... lacking. She felt almost as if she was speaking to a small child as she defined the Breeders in the simplest terms.
"No regard for genetic purity," she clarified.
"So they come in all shapes and colors," Doctor Jackson finally said.
"Yes."
"And colors."
"Yes," Farrell repeated emphatically, relieved that he finally seemed to comprehend.
"Really?"
She eyed him and wondered if the Kindred had forgotten how to breed for intelligence.
Upgrades
Janie sized them up as she approached: two men, one women. They seemed excited. Celebrating, perhaps? That was usually good for a generous tip.
"What can I get you?" she asked, her voice professionally bright.
"Ah -- three of the biggest steaks you've got," the older man said. "With everything. Rare. Baked potato."
"You got it," Janie said briskly, and turned to go.
"Excuse me!" he protested. "That was for me."
Janie's smile slipped a little as they upped the ante to four steaks apiece. Were they serious?
"And a diet Coke," the woman added.
Janie, incredulous, chose not to argue.
Crossroads
Hebron's grandparents still remembered life on Parabal before the Goa'uld came. They spoke wistfully of freedom of choice back then, when Parabal suffered no cruel master.
Hebron longed to bring that freedom back to his people. So when the Tok'ra appeared, whispering of rebellion, he was eager to join them.
The unusual request -- to host a symbiote that had rejected Goa'uld domination -- did make him hesitate. But Hebron admired the Tok'ra for refusing power when it would be so easy for them to claim it. The chance to do the same himself... that was surely worth the risk, wasn't it?
Divide and Conquer
This must be what's it like to have a snake in the head.
The hysterical thought careened through Phil Graham's mind as he watched himself aim an unfamiliar weapon, the deadly beam sizzling into a Tok'ra's body. He saw himself kill Blasdale, shoot another Tok'ra, target a third.
O'Neill got his last victim out of the way, but Graham's relief was short-lived. He was aiming at O'Neill now, his left hand moving of its own volition.
"Stop," he begged, unsure if he meant himself or O'Neill. "Stop... stop me!"
His finger touched the ring, and the world went white.
Window of Opportunity
Malakai gripped the unfamiliar weapon, regarding Doctor Jackson with regret.
At the team's initial arrival on the planet, he'd feared potential interference. Couldn't they have waited one more day to explore?
When Major Carter spoke cautiously of radiation, Malakai hoped that they would merely deploy their instruments and leave, never knowing that time itself would retreat and their recordings vanish. But they were still here, and it was almost too late!
Ironically, all his efforts to conquer time came down to scant, precious seconds. But he couldn't wait any longer.
"I have to act now," he said apologetically, and fired.
Watergate
The guardians, grouped together, mounted steady, increasing pressure on the invading organism. Finally, the shell cracked, leaving the interior exposed for final elimination. Their world would be safe!
But analysis of the vulnerable interior was puzzling. A bubble existed there: arid, void of all life. And yet...
Why would the shell create a bubble within if there wasn't something to protect?
A tentacle extruded, making tentative contact. It wasn't sentience as they understood it. But there was... something.
Further exploration was certainly warranted before any final decision could be reached. They reached into the cracked shell, determined to understand more.
The First Ones
The First dismissed him as too young and weak for sha'shak, but he would prove his worth!
Traveling far from the safety of home in search of prey, he crept past the Dark Lake. His daring was rewarded when he discovered strange new creatures that none in his tribe had ever seen.
From the crude tools they used to bite the earth, he knew they were primitive dirt dwellers. Was their flesh succulent, beneath those soft pink skins and green hides? Even if not, the First would have to concede his triumph when he brought one back to the cave.
Scorched Earth
He sprinted eastwards, terror spurring him onwards even as his lungs burned. He steadfastly refused to look over his shoulder, where the horror of that thing floated in the sky, raining death on the village and surrounding lands.
By the time he reached the closest settlement, his breath came in stuttering gasps and his legs trembled beneath him. "Help!" he gasped, staggering toward the concerned faces. "Help me, please!"
They misunderstood, trying to ease him to the ground. Didn't they know there was no time to waste?
"It's so big," he stammered. "It destroyed our whole village... you must flee!"
Beneath the Surface
Rammen shifted uneasily as the Earth soldier glowered at him.
"You say O'Neill went out on the glacier with his entire team?"
"Major Carter wanted to explore," Rammen lied, dutifully following Calder's instructions. "Colonel O'Neill agreed. We warned them it was dangerous to go out on the ice, but they did not listen."
"Listen." The soldier stepped a pace closer, and Rammen resisted the impulse to back away. "I know O'Neill. He would never endanger his people like that!"
"I did not see them go," Rammen said, which was truthful enough. He wished this Major Griff would go away, too.
Point of No Return
"Look, the Cloverleaf doesn't want any trouble," the manager began, looking uncomfortable.
"There won't be any," the colonel assured him. "We just want to keep an eye on this fellow. Murray here will be behind the counter; we'll have the rest of the team outside. Smooth and quiet, I promise."
The manager shuffled his papers, then looked sidelong at the impassive, impressive figure standing silently at the end of his desk. "It's one thing to let you install that vid camera you want," he said plaintively, "but..."
"Yes?"
The manager swallowed, then finally blurted, "This man of yours isn't union."
Tangent
Despite the quelling looks he shot at an unabashed O'Neill, Vidrine inwardly shared the colonel's excitement. An orbital defense craft! The small fighter plane was sleek and deadly. If Major Carter's confident assertions were correct, Earth had developed a potential weapon against a Goa'uld invasion from space.
"What's next?" he asked, and listened to the proposal for an air-to-air live fire test with the X-301.
He glanced at O'Neill's eager face, then surveyed the Jaffa, whose impassive expression could not quite mask the gleam in his dark eyes. "Light that candle, boys," he ordered, and smiled openly back.
The Curse
He was somewhere beyond pain, tasting grit and dust and blood. Movement was impossible. Then he heard voices, and hands touched him. He moaned and cringed, expecting a fresh assault of agony.
"Steven! Steven, it's me."
"Daniel?" he whispered.
"What happened?" the voice was urgent, anxious.
Steven tried to answer, to admit that Daniel had been right, but other hands were moving him now, and he cried out in protest.
"What about the jar?" Daniel pressed.
"Huh?" Steven blinked heavy eyelids and tried to understand the question. No Osiris jar, Daniel. Just the amulet, the key, the mystery... and her.
The Serpent's Venom
Rak'nor's eyes were wide as he watched Terok rage at his inability to break Teal'c. Even now, after all the torture, consigned to be taken to Apophis for the ultimate torment, Teal'c still fought back!
Then Terok stalked forward and drove all the force of his hate into one final attack.
"My lord," Rak'nor stammered, seeing the deadly light pulse against Teal'c's forehead, "you are killing him!"
"I will not be denied the satisfaction of killing him at least once!" Terok roared.
For a long, anguished moment, Rak'nor still hesitated... and then took the first step towards life and freedom.
Chain Reaction
Tessa frowned at the man standing next to the open car door. "We're not supposed to get into cars with strangers," she repeated, gripping Kayla's hand.
"Of course not," the man said, removing his sunglasses and smiling at her. Tessa thought it was supposed to be a kind smile, but the man didn't seem to know how to do it properly.
"But I've got your grandfather's password," the man continued. "It's onion timbales this week, isn't it?"
"Yes," Tessa admitted grudgingly.
"Then if you'll get in, I'll take you home. And you can tell your grandfather how well you... listened."
2010
Walter knew that most personnel didn't take his job very seriously. Oh, they appreciated a familiar face at the controls, but they regarded him as a glorified P.A. system, calling out the chevrons or announcing incoming wormholes. They didn't appreciate the constant stress; even at calmer times, there was no such thing as routine with the Stargate.
Walter usually took events in stride, but it was unquestionably creepy to see SG-1's code on his screen when they were all standing right there. Bloodstained notes didn't make him feel any better.
"Removing P4C-970," he agreed fervently. "Yes, sir."
Absolute Power
When the chappa'ai flared unexpectedly into life, the Abydon guards were wary. But none knew how to react to the wind that blew out of the chappa'ai, wending through pathways until it gusted out to the desert. Two of the boys ran after it, emerging from the pyramid in time to see the air currents coil and twist, forming a sandstorm before their astonished eyes.
The sandstorm whirled and danced unabated until Kasuf, hurriedly informed, came to see for himself.
"Sha're," the wind breathed at him. "Sha're."
The sandstorm whirled away into the distance, leaving them standing still and silent.
The Light
Loren huddled in the corner of the small room he used for sleeping, clamping his hands over his ears to block out the sound of distant voices.
People again, after so long! They were loud. They were scary!
What would they do to him? Could they know what he'd done?
He cowered down further, shaking. Please, please, let them just go away!
It got quiet after a while, and Loren, cautiously reconnoitering, saw four men standing in the Light Room, as mesmerized as his mother and father had been. He crept away, shuddering. It was all going to happen again...
Prodigy
Babysitting geeks was never Griff's first choice, but SG teams went where they were ordered. Still, he was glad to see O'Neill arrive to take the next rotation.
"Colonel," Griff said in casual greeting.
"Major," O'Neill nodded. "Report."
"Oh, we've had a pretty thrilling week," Griff drawled, ticking off the highlights. "Two days ago, Doctor Thompson lost his glasses..."
O'Neill, looking a bit sour, officially relieved him of duty just in time for Thompson to show up and start complaining again. Offering O'Neill an unrepentant grin, Griff deftly sidestepped the scientist and headed for the Stargate. Better SG-1 than him!
Entity
Feeling somber, Siler directed the two airmen to lay down explosives in an efficient, deadly pattern. They'd lost Major Carter; the least they could do was make sure that the alien entity never had the chance to threaten anyone ever again.
They were almost finished when the first whine of awakening circuitry alerted him. Lights flickered and steadied into a regular glow as the MALP hummed back to full power.
Uh oh.
"Get back," Siler ordered sharply, feeling his jaw tense as he watched the MALP shift. "Call the control room and warn the general -- that thing is back again."
Double Jeopardy
Harlan checked his internal chrono again. So late. Still no sign of them!
He worried for his friends. Yes. They said they must help, they must fight, and Captain Carter was so clever, so very clever to invent the power packs.
But so late! What if they needed help?
He wished he could help, but he didn't know how. He was not even sure what they did on their missions...
He brightened at a sudden thought. He didn't know what they did, but they knew what they did! He could ask them! Well, their human thems. They would help. Yes!
Exodus
Tanith bristled at the sudden appearance of the shol'va. It was bad enough these Tok'ra fools dared to lock him up, but to be forced to suffer Teal'c's presence...!
"I am here to to deliver your sentence," the shol'va declared.
"Death, I suppose?" Tanith mocked. It couldn't be. Surely the puling Tok'ra were too interested in saving his pitiful host.
Unbelievably, they did intend to kill him! Dismayed, Tanith deliberately provoked Teal'c so that the Jaffa would leave. He needed time to plan his next move. If the Tok'ra meant to execute him, it was time for Tanith to escape.
Small Victories
After two rings, Paul reached for the phone. "Davis," he said absently, eyes still focused on the SGC's completed mission report on the Replicators and Thor's ship.
Then the hurried words of the caller sank in, and he swiveled away from his desk, gripping the receiver tightly.
"No further transmissions? Has anyone approached? The Nemitz. Yes, I see." He listened a moment longer, then sighed. "Right. We'll want to -- did you say study them? Isn't that a bit... Yes, sir. I'm on it."
Paul hung up and grimaced at the now-defunct paperwork: not such a final report, after all.
The Other Side
Farrell struggled to maintain her patience as Doctor Jackson blathered about his own ancestry. At least he, unlike the Jaffa, was of pure blood. Yet his wit seemed somewhat... lacking. She felt almost as if she was speaking to a small child as she defined the Breeders in the simplest terms.
"No regard for genetic purity," she clarified.
"So they come in all shapes and colors," Doctor Jackson finally said.
"Yes."
"And colors."
"Yes," Farrell repeated emphatically, relieved that he finally seemed to comprehend.
"Really?"
She eyed him and wondered if the Kindred had forgotten how to breed for intelligence.
Upgrades
Janie sized them up as she approached: two men, one women. They seemed excited. Celebrating, perhaps? That was usually good for a generous tip.
"What can I get you?" she asked, her voice professionally bright.
"Ah -- three of the biggest steaks you've got," the older man said. "With everything. Rare. Baked potato."
"You got it," Janie said briskly, and turned to go.
"Excuse me!" he protested. "That was for me."
Janie's smile slipped a little as they upped the ante to four steaks apiece. Were they serious?
"And a diet Coke," the woman added.
Janie, incredulous, chose not to argue.
Crossroads
Hebron's grandparents still remembered life on Parabal before the Goa'uld came. They spoke wistfully of freedom of choice back then, when Parabal suffered no cruel master.
Hebron longed to bring that freedom back to his people. So when the Tok'ra appeared, whispering of rebellion, he was eager to join them.
The unusual request -- to host a symbiote that had rejected Goa'uld domination -- did make him hesitate. But Hebron admired the Tok'ra for refusing power when it would be so easy for them to claim it. The chance to do the same himself... that was surely worth the risk, wasn't it?
Divide and Conquer
This must be what's it like to have a snake in the head.
The hysterical thought careened through Phil Graham's mind as he watched himself aim an unfamiliar weapon, the deadly beam sizzling into a Tok'ra's body. He saw himself kill Blasdale, shoot another Tok'ra, target a third.
O'Neill got his last victim out of the way, but Graham's relief was short-lived. He was aiming at O'Neill now, his left hand moving of its own volition.
"Stop," he begged, unsure if he meant himself or O'Neill. "Stop... stop me!"
His finger touched the ring, and the world went white.
Window of Opportunity
Malakai gripped the unfamiliar weapon, regarding Doctor Jackson with regret.
At the team's initial arrival on the planet, he'd feared potential interference. Couldn't they have waited one more day to explore?
When Major Carter spoke cautiously of radiation, Malakai hoped that they would merely deploy their instruments and leave, never knowing that time itself would retreat and their recordings vanish. But they were still here, and it was almost too late!
Ironically, all his efforts to conquer time came down to scant, precious seconds. But he couldn't wait any longer.
"I have to act now," he said apologetically, and fired.
Watergate
The guardians, grouped together, mounted steady, increasing pressure on the invading organism. Finally, the shell cracked, leaving the interior exposed for final elimination. Their world would be safe!
But analysis of the vulnerable interior was puzzling. A bubble existed there: arid, void of all life. And yet...
Why would the shell create a bubble within if there wasn't something to protect?
A tentacle extruded, making tentative contact. It wasn't sentience as they understood it. But there was... something.
Further exploration was certainly warranted before any final decision could be reached. They reached into the cracked shell, determined to understand more.
The First Ones
The First dismissed him as too young and weak for sha'shak, but he would prove his worth!
Traveling far from the safety of home in search of prey, he crept past the Dark Lake. His daring was rewarded when he discovered strange new creatures that none in his tribe had ever seen.
From the crude tools they used to bite the earth, he knew they were primitive dirt dwellers. Was their flesh succulent, beneath those soft pink skins and green hides? Even if not, the First would have to concede his triumph when he brought one back to the cave.
Scorched Earth
He sprinted eastwards, terror spurring him onwards even as his lungs burned. He steadfastly refused to look over his shoulder, where the horror of that thing floated in the sky, raining death on the village and surrounding lands.
By the time he reached the closest settlement, his breath came in stuttering gasps and his legs trembled beneath him. "Help!" he gasped, staggering toward the concerned faces. "Help me, please!"
They misunderstood, trying to ease him to the ground. Didn't they know there was no time to waste?
"It's so big," he stammered. "It destroyed our whole village... you must flee!"
Beneath the Surface
Rammen shifted uneasily as the Earth soldier glowered at him.
"You say O'Neill went out on the glacier with his entire team?"
"Major Carter wanted to explore," Rammen lied, dutifully following Calder's instructions. "Colonel O'Neill agreed. We warned them it was dangerous to go out on the ice, but they did not listen."
"Listen." The soldier stepped a pace closer, and Rammen resisted the impulse to back away. "I know O'Neill. He would never endanger his people like that!"
"I did not see them go," Rammen said, which was truthful enough. He wished this Major Griff would go away, too.
Point of No Return
"Look, the Cloverleaf doesn't want any trouble," the manager began, looking uncomfortable.
"There won't be any," the colonel assured him. "We just want to keep an eye on this fellow. Murray here will be behind the counter; we'll have the rest of the team outside. Smooth and quiet, I promise."
The manager shuffled his papers, then looked sidelong at the impassive, impressive figure standing silently at the end of his desk. "It's one thing to let you install that vid camera you want," he said plaintively, "but..."
"Yes?"
The manager swallowed, then finally blurted, "This man of yours isn't union."
Tangent
Despite the quelling looks he shot at an unabashed O'Neill, Vidrine inwardly shared the colonel's excitement. An orbital defense craft! The small fighter plane was sleek and deadly. If Major Carter's confident assertions were correct, Earth had developed a potential weapon against a Goa'uld invasion from space.
"What's next?" he asked, and listened to the proposal for an air-to-air live fire test with the X-301.
He glanced at O'Neill's eager face, then surveyed the Jaffa, whose impassive expression could not quite mask the gleam in his dark eyes. "Light that candle, boys," he ordered, and smiled openly back.
The Curse
He was somewhere beyond pain, tasting grit and dust and blood. Movement was impossible. Then he heard voices, and hands touched him. He moaned and cringed, expecting a fresh assault of agony.
"Steven! Steven, it's me."
"Daniel?" he whispered.
"What happened?" the voice was urgent, anxious.
Steven tried to answer, to admit that Daniel had been right, but other hands were moving him now, and he cried out in protest.
"What about the jar?" Daniel pressed.
"Huh?" Steven blinked heavy eyelids and tried to understand the question. No Osiris jar, Daniel. Just the amulet, the key, the mystery... and her.
The Serpent's Venom
Rak'nor's eyes were wide as he watched Terok rage at his inability to break Teal'c. Even now, after all the torture, consigned to be taken to Apophis for the ultimate torment, Teal'c still fought back!
Then Terok stalked forward and drove all the force of his hate into one final attack.
"My lord," Rak'nor stammered, seeing the deadly light pulse against Teal'c's forehead, "you are killing him!"
"I will not be denied the satisfaction of killing him at least once!" Terok roared.
For a long, anguished moment, Rak'nor still hesitated... and then took the first step towards life and freedom.
Chain Reaction
Tessa frowned at the man standing next to the open car door. "We're not supposed to get into cars with strangers," she repeated, gripping Kayla's hand.
"Of course not," the man said, removing his sunglasses and smiling at her. Tessa thought it was supposed to be a kind smile, but the man didn't seem to know how to do it properly.
"But I've got your grandfather's password," the man continued. "It's onion timbales this week, isn't it?"
"Yes," Tessa admitted grudgingly.
"Then if you'll get in, I'll take you home. And you can tell your grandfather how well you... listened."
2010
Walter knew that most personnel didn't take his job very seriously. Oh, they appreciated a familiar face at the controls, but they regarded him as a glorified P.A. system, calling out the chevrons or announcing incoming wormholes. They didn't appreciate the constant stress; even at calmer times, there was no such thing as routine with the Stargate.
Walter usually took events in stride, but it was unquestionably creepy to see SG-1's code on his screen when they were all standing right there. Bloodstained notes didn't make him feel any better.
"Removing P4C-970," he agreed fervently. "Yes, sir."
Absolute Power
When the chappa'ai flared unexpectedly into life, the Abydon guards were wary. But none knew how to react to the wind that blew out of the chappa'ai, wending through pathways until it gusted out to the desert. Two of the boys ran after it, emerging from the pyramid in time to see the air currents coil and twist, forming a sandstorm before their astonished eyes.
The sandstorm whirled and danced unabated until Kasuf, hurriedly informed, came to see for himself.
"Sha're," the wind breathed at him. "Sha're."
The sandstorm whirled away into the distance, leaving them standing still and silent.
The Light
Loren huddled in the corner of the small room he used for sleeping, clamping his hands over his ears to block out the sound of distant voices.
People again, after so long! They were loud. They were scary!
What would they do to him? Could they know what he'd done?
He cowered down further, shaking. Please, please, let them just go away!
It got quiet after a while, and Loren, cautiously reconnoitering, saw four men standing in the Light Room, as mesmerized as his mother and father had been. He crept away, shuddering. It was all going to happen again...
Prodigy
Babysitting geeks was never Griff's first choice, but SG teams went where they were ordered. Still, he was glad to see O'Neill arrive to take the next rotation.
"Colonel," Griff said in casual greeting.
"Major," O'Neill nodded. "Report."
"Oh, we've had a pretty thrilling week," Griff drawled, ticking off the highlights. "Two days ago, Doctor Thompson lost his glasses..."
O'Neill, looking a bit sour, officially relieved him of duty just in time for Thompson to show up and start complaining again. Offering O'Neill an unrepentant grin, Griff deftly sidestepped the scientist and headed for the Stargate. Better SG-1 than him!
Entity
Feeling somber, Siler directed the two airmen to lay down explosives in an efficient, deadly pattern. They'd lost Major Carter; the least they could do was make sure that the alien entity never had the chance to threaten anyone ever again.
They were almost finished when the first whine of awakening circuitry alerted him. Lights flickered and steadied into a regular glow as the MALP hummed back to full power.
Uh oh.
"Get back," Siler ordered sharply, feeling his jaw tense as he watched the MALP shift. "Call the control room and warn the general -- that thing is back again."
Double Jeopardy
Harlan checked his internal chrono again. So late. Still no sign of them!
He worried for his friends. Yes. They said they must help, they must fight, and Captain Carter was so clever, so very clever to invent the power packs.
But so late! What if they needed help?
He wished he could help, but he didn't know how. He was not even sure what they did on their missions...
He brightened at a sudden thought. He didn't know what they did, but they knew what they did! He could ask them! Well, their human thems. They would help. Yes!
Exodus
Tanith bristled at the sudden appearance of the shol'va. It was bad enough these Tok'ra fools dared to lock him up, but to be forced to suffer Teal'c's presence...!
"I am here to to deliver your sentence," the shol'va declared.
"Death, I suppose?" Tanith mocked. It couldn't be. Surely the puling Tok'ra were too interested in saving his pitiful host.
Unbelievably, they did intend to kill him! Dismayed, Tanith deliberately provoked Teal'c so that the Jaffa would leave. He needed time to plan his next move. If the Tok'ra meant to execute him, it was time for Tanith to escape.