On the Outside, Looking In (Season Five)
The fifth 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 Five. Rated PG.
Enemies
Apophis absently stroked the metal prosthesis on his face, waiting for the cycle to complete. It galled him to use such drastic measures. The sarcophagus was his -- a totem of his power, his immorality. He disliked defiling it with the likes of a Jaffa.
But this Jaffa was different. He was only a tool, like all of his kind, but the scope of the impact...
The ultimate symbol of rebellion's failure. Yes.
(And if Apophis also needed Teal'c to survive, to return to his own galaxy and power base, there was no need to dwell on that. None at all.)
Threshold
"Should I be offended that Teal'c thinks I'm so gullible?" MacKenzie asked dryly.
"You should not," Bra'tac replied. "This is not the Teal'c that knew you and the Tau'ri for four of your years. This..." His mouth twisted. "This is the Teal'c that Apophis imagines, contemptuous of human slaves."
"I see." MacKenzie looked thoughtful. "How do you propose we confront him, Master Bra'tac?"
"Apophis has convinced Teal'c that the Tau'ri are fools, but he also would have cautioned him against me." Bra'tac's expression turned grimly vicious. "An unexpected challenge might crack this false mask. Let us plan our confrontation accordingly."
Ascension
Hammond closed the briefing room door.
"Sit down," he suggested.
Reynolds almost collapsed into a chair. "I killed him, sir," he muttered. "An ally. He saved our lives out there, and I killed him."
"From what Major Carter says, he's not precisely dead." Hammond sighed. "She gave me her full report. Orlin essentially attacked you, acting without explanation or warning. You acted to the best of your ability, given the information you possessed at the time."
"Yes, sir, but..."
"Missions through the Stargate are never easy, son," Hammond said. "You do your best, and more. That's all anyone can ask."
The Fifth Man
"They were... good people," Kiyayae said thoughtfully. "Very, very attached to weapons. But good people, nonetheless."
"And they protected you?"
"Yes. They did not have to help me, but they did. " Kiyayae hesitated. "O'Neill spoke of a possible friendship. But I do not know if they could defend us from a determined assault."
The Reol leader's cranial tentacles flailed with agitation. "It seems so tempting, Kiyayae, to believe that the galaxy has more than enemies that want to use us. But there are so few of us left." Tentacles drooped sadly. "We cannot risk it. We must bury the Stargate."
Red Sky
"On behalf of the entire Stargate team, I would like to register a formal protest, sir," said Dr. Johnson. "Major Carter should've been informed of this meeting."
"Your protest is noted," Colonel Ryder said coolly. "But it makes little difference. We're not railroading the major here."
"You're not?"
"No. She may be the highest ranking military member of this scientific team, but the responsibility is not hers alone. She isn't here because she's too closely involved in this incident." Ryder leaned forward. "Too many Stargate protocols and safeties bypassed means our own people are at risk. We need solutions now."
Rite of Passage
She'd grown to hate this place, this mocking testimony to both her long-term project and her brilliant plan to destroy the Tau'ri with their own misplaced compassion. But as a fugitive from the System Lords, her experiments in disarray, Nirrti had little choice but to remain in hiding.
A sudden intrusion startled her. Quickly withdrawing to a safe position, Nirrti prudently activated one of her prototype cloaking devices so she could observe the strangers in secret.
...No, not strangers! The despised Tau'ri -- SG-1!
Overhearing their coversation, hope suddenly spiked. Perhaps there was something left to salvage, after all.
Beast of Burden
Lurka should've been doing his chores, especially with Pater abed and groaning. But he sulked next to the farm pump, ignoring Beast's patient nudges to help water the waiting stock.
"Lurka," Mater called gently from the doorway.
The boy spun, fists clenched, and burst out, "They were grown-ups! Don't they know they mustn't steal? That they mustn't hurt?"
"They're safely locked up now," Mater soothed him. "They can't hurt anyone else, and your Pater will be fine."
"Are you sure?" Luka sniffed.
"Promise," she said firmly. "Now, help Beast fill the water troughs, and we'll all sit down to dinner."
The Tomb
Svetlana ignored Zukhov's best glare and returned a cool gaze of her own. "Try to ignore your instincts, Colonel," she said, "and listen to this female scientist who has gone through the Stargate and dealt with the SGC. It may save your life."
To the man's credit, his expression softened a little. "Very well, Doctor Markov. What do you advise?"
"Don't be fooled by surface impressions," Svetlana replied promptly. "The Americans are both reckless and intelligent. Be wary." She swallowed, thinking of friends and colleagues killed by sentient water, and added, "And please, Colonel -- try to bring Britsky back alive."
Between Two Fires
Humming softly to herself, Rellin carefully trimmed the hedges to be both mathematically and aesthetically pleasing. She stepped back a pace to examine her work and gave a nod of satisfaction. Yes, this blended with --
Her train of thought was abruptly shattered by the boom that seemed to crack the sky wide open. She stared, horrified, as ships suddenly appeared in the sky. Enemies attacking? But how...?
The first lances of light speared downwards, explosions shaking the ground beneath her feet. Rellin ran towards the nearest building, afraid that safety would only be an illusion. What was happening on Tollana?
2001
Kehl watched, head cocked to one side, as the two strangers from Earth conferred over the iron root. After a few moments, he gave a careless shrug of his shoulders and strolled away.
He didn't really understand their wariness of the Aschen. For as long as Kehl could remember, the Aschen had taken care of himself and his people. What more could anyone want?
Humming tunelessly, Kehl headed back to his cabin. Odd notions they might have, but Daniel and Teal'c seemed capable enough. Likely they'd appreciate that jug of sweet water he'd promised them. He'd best get it ready.
Desperate Measures
All that time spent curing this tiresome host's body, and it couldn't escape this slave building? Preposterous!
It descended another flight of stairs, emerging in a dark tunnel. Here, perhaps, there might be an exit. But a figure barred its way: one of the humans, armed with a primitive projectile that might yet damage the newly-healed body. It could not risk the danger.
"Shoot me, and you'll kill the host," it tried, hoping for foolish sentiment to cause hesitation.
Then another human appeared, apparently not sentimental at all. Hmmm -- this one might have potential. The Goa'uld followed Simmons out.
Wormhole X-treme!
"I know you can do this, Lloyd," his backer said impatiently. "You don't need more funding."
"But I do! Really!" Martin almost wailed. "I can't produce the special effects you want without --"
"Of course you can," the mogul snapped. "I saw that final episode of Wormhole X-treme! Honestly, you can't win yourself an Emmy and expect that people won't notice."
"There were freak weather patterns involved," Martin said, knowing how lame it sounded. "Sir, I can create an extravaganza for you! But I'll need just a little --"
"That's the budget, Lloyd. Take it of leave it."
Martin sagged, defeated.
Proving Ground
Hammond had gone to talk to the trainees, but Kerrigan remained glued to the monitors, watching the proceedings.
He was pleased with how well they'd done so far, making most of the right choices. Kerrigan knew it was a risky business, choosing these young officers to serve at Stargate Command; too few of them were good enough to make the cut. But these four looked like they were going to pass.
The warning klaxon sounded, and Kerrigan leaned forward in anticipation. This was it -- the last challenge for Elliot. Time to see if the boy really had what it takes.
48 Hours
Tanith's eyes flashed with malevolent glee as he guided the al'kesh into the air. At last! Teal'c had been a tiresome thorn in his side for too long. Now, the Jaffa and his feeble allies would meet the death they deserved!
His loyal minons, Tanith knew, would pilot their gliders and strafe the ground before the chappa'ai. Doubtless they could easily kill Teal'c and the Tau'ri. But Tanith wanted to claim these deaths himself.
The ship cleared the trees; Tanith espied his quarry. He sneered, seeing the shol'va turn and raise his weapon in defiance. As if Teal'c could possib--
Summit
He'd been drifting, semi-conscious, for so long now. Lost. Bewildered.
Mourning his host, his friend.
Now crystal shattered and he was hurled from wet warmth into sharp-edged chaos. His senses were dimmed without a host, but he could hear screams and groans. This must be some kind of disaster, and he needed to...
To what, then? What could he do in this feeble state, without even a host?
A scrabbling sound at the edge of hearing made him twist around. He scented an unblended human, saw the twitching hand gesture for help.
Lantash hesitated, then slowly moved forward.
Last Stand
Orkum and his squad flung the disheveled Tok'ra at their master's feet, an offering and a triumph.
Zipacna's eyes glowed his approval. Secure in his might and power, he strolled over to the prone figure and prodded it with an elegant shoe. "I sense you are Tok'ra," he murmured, "yet you wear the costume of the despised Tau'ri. Which part of you will suffer more, I wonder? Tell me of the formula, and you will die relatively quickly."
The Tok'ra rolled over, gasping, fists clenched in pain. No, not pain -- a faint crunch --
Orkum suddenly found it hard to breathe.
Failsafe
There was a kind of horrified fascination in watching the numbers spin away into oblivion.
"Twenty seconds to failsafe," Paul murmured. The moments ticked past with finality. Nothing could stop the asteroid from hitting Earth now.
"Very well," Hammond said, and Paul couldn't help but marvel at the immense calmness of the man. "Take your positions with the last Alpha group. That's an order, Sergeant," he added pointedly when Harriman moved to protest.
Paul couldn't help himself. "General..." he started, but Hammond shook his head gently, firmly. He was still in command.
"Good luck," Paul managed, and obeyed Hammond's instructions.
Warrior
Or'nac watched with approval as Rak'nor fired at the target. Two strikes at such a distance in three attempts was a sign of a firm eye and a steady hand.
Then the female Tau'ri stepped forward. Or'nac felt his lip curl. Surely they did not expect a woman to challenge Rak'nor's impressive feat?
"Hey, you!" one of the Tau'ri shouted. "In the skirt!"
Or'nac blinked. Was that... an insult?
"Get that target swinging a little," the man called.
Instinctively, Or'nac looked to Kytano. The great Jaffa leader seemed calm, almost amused. With an inward shrug, Or'nac obeyed the strange instruction.
Menace
Westin's radio crackled. "The cameras in Isolation Room One are offline," a voice said crisply. It was Kramer, working the security cameras this shift.
"We're on it," Westin assured her. But when he swiped his card to open the robot's door, nothing happened. What was wrong?
He gestured to Branson to look through the observation windows upstairs. Branson mounted the steps, then...
"They're in here!" Branson shouted, his voice suddenly high with terror. Westin raced after him, rifle in his hands, and arrived in time to see an insect-like creature of living metal launch itself at Branson's unprotected back.
The Sentinel
Hammond stared at the report on the rogue NID members. O'Neill stood at attention, waiting his decision regarding taking Greaves and Kershaw back to Latona.
Hammond thought of Maybourne, who had also been asked to fix NID damage and used the opportunity to engineer his own escape. He didn't want a repeat of that disaster.
Still, Greaves reminded Hammond more of Makepeace than Maybourne: passionately committed to protecting the planet, not just self-serving aggrandizement of power. And lives were at stake here -- not just the Latonans, but also SG-9.
"All right, Colonel," he finally said. "You have a go."
Meridian
Jonas paced in agitation, clutching at his hair. This was wrong, wrong! He had frozen in sheer terror, while Dr. Jackson had saved all their lives. And now they were blaming Jackson for it!
The excitement over the naquadria's potential. The dismissal of the ethical implications. O'Neill's fierce challenge: I guarantee you it'll never have the effect you're hoping for until you use it at least once.
He'd tried to speak up; he'd been shouted down. He was the youngest, easily dismissed. No one would believe him!
Except the Tau'ri, a voice whispered in his mind.
Jonas swallowed, seeking courage.
Revelations
Osiris smiled down at his captive, allowing his host's eyes to glow. Three out of four of the infamous SG-1! Carter refused to betray Dr. Jackson's location, but punishment would soon convince her otherwise.
He toyed with the Tau'ri woman, enjoying the spasms of agony that twisted her face. Finally, he raised a languid hand, releasing her from her torture momentarily.
"Once more," he purred. "Where is Doctor Jackson?"
"He's dead," Carter gasped.
Osiris felt his own face twist. He told himself he wasn't reacting to his host's distress -- he wasn't. "You're lying!" he snarled furiously, and renewed his assault.
Enemies
Apophis absently stroked the metal prosthesis on his face, waiting for the cycle to complete. It galled him to use such drastic measures. The sarcophagus was his -- a totem of his power, his immorality. He disliked defiling it with the likes of a Jaffa.
But this Jaffa was different. He was only a tool, like all of his kind, but the scope of the impact...
The ultimate symbol of rebellion's failure. Yes.
(And if Apophis also needed Teal'c to survive, to return to his own galaxy and power base, there was no need to dwell on that. None at all.)
Threshold
"Should I be offended that Teal'c thinks I'm so gullible?" MacKenzie asked dryly.
"You should not," Bra'tac replied. "This is not the Teal'c that knew you and the Tau'ri for four of your years. This..." His mouth twisted. "This is the Teal'c that Apophis imagines, contemptuous of human slaves."
"I see." MacKenzie looked thoughtful. "How do you propose we confront him, Master Bra'tac?"
"Apophis has convinced Teal'c that the Tau'ri are fools, but he also would have cautioned him against me." Bra'tac's expression turned grimly vicious. "An unexpected challenge might crack this false mask. Let us plan our confrontation accordingly."
Ascension
Hammond closed the briefing room door.
"Sit down," he suggested.
Reynolds almost collapsed into a chair. "I killed him, sir," he muttered. "An ally. He saved our lives out there, and I killed him."
"From what Major Carter says, he's not precisely dead." Hammond sighed. "She gave me her full report. Orlin essentially attacked you, acting without explanation or warning. You acted to the best of your ability, given the information you possessed at the time."
"Yes, sir, but..."
"Missions through the Stargate are never easy, son," Hammond said. "You do your best, and more. That's all anyone can ask."
The Fifth Man
"They were... good people," Kiyayae said thoughtfully. "Very, very attached to weapons. But good people, nonetheless."
"And they protected you?"
"Yes. They did not have to help me, but they did. " Kiyayae hesitated. "O'Neill spoke of a possible friendship. But I do not know if they could defend us from a determined assault."
The Reol leader's cranial tentacles flailed with agitation. "It seems so tempting, Kiyayae, to believe that the galaxy has more than enemies that want to use us. But there are so few of us left." Tentacles drooped sadly. "We cannot risk it. We must bury the Stargate."
Red Sky
"On behalf of the entire Stargate team, I would like to register a formal protest, sir," said Dr. Johnson. "Major Carter should've been informed of this meeting."
"Your protest is noted," Colonel Ryder said coolly. "But it makes little difference. We're not railroading the major here."
"You're not?"
"No. She may be the highest ranking military member of this scientific team, but the responsibility is not hers alone. She isn't here because she's too closely involved in this incident." Ryder leaned forward. "Too many Stargate protocols and safeties bypassed means our own people are at risk. We need solutions now."
Rite of Passage
She'd grown to hate this place, this mocking testimony to both her long-term project and her brilliant plan to destroy the Tau'ri with their own misplaced compassion. But as a fugitive from the System Lords, her experiments in disarray, Nirrti had little choice but to remain in hiding.
A sudden intrusion startled her. Quickly withdrawing to a safe position, Nirrti prudently activated one of her prototype cloaking devices so she could observe the strangers in secret.
...No, not strangers! The despised Tau'ri -- SG-1!
Overhearing their coversation, hope suddenly spiked. Perhaps there was something left to salvage, after all.
Beast of Burden
Lurka should've been doing his chores, especially with Pater abed and groaning. But he sulked next to the farm pump, ignoring Beast's patient nudges to help water the waiting stock.
"Lurka," Mater called gently from the doorway.
The boy spun, fists clenched, and burst out, "They were grown-ups! Don't they know they mustn't steal? That they mustn't hurt?"
"They're safely locked up now," Mater soothed him. "They can't hurt anyone else, and your Pater will be fine."
"Are you sure?" Luka sniffed.
"Promise," she said firmly. "Now, help Beast fill the water troughs, and we'll all sit down to dinner."
The Tomb
Svetlana ignored Zukhov's best glare and returned a cool gaze of her own. "Try to ignore your instincts, Colonel," she said, "and listen to this female scientist who has gone through the Stargate and dealt with the SGC. It may save your life."
To the man's credit, his expression softened a little. "Very well, Doctor Markov. What do you advise?"
"Don't be fooled by surface impressions," Svetlana replied promptly. "The Americans are both reckless and intelligent. Be wary." She swallowed, thinking of friends and colleagues killed by sentient water, and added, "And please, Colonel -- try to bring Britsky back alive."
Between Two Fires
Humming softly to herself, Rellin carefully trimmed the hedges to be both mathematically and aesthetically pleasing. She stepped back a pace to examine her work and gave a nod of satisfaction. Yes, this blended with --
Her train of thought was abruptly shattered by the boom that seemed to crack the sky wide open. She stared, horrified, as ships suddenly appeared in the sky. Enemies attacking? But how...?
The first lances of light speared downwards, explosions shaking the ground beneath her feet. Rellin ran towards the nearest building, afraid that safety would only be an illusion. What was happening on Tollana?
2001
Kehl watched, head cocked to one side, as the two strangers from Earth conferred over the iron root. After a few moments, he gave a careless shrug of his shoulders and strolled away.
He didn't really understand their wariness of the Aschen. For as long as Kehl could remember, the Aschen had taken care of himself and his people. What more could anyone want?
Humming tunelessly, Kehl headed back to his cabin. Odd notions they might have, but Daniel and Teal'c seemed capable enough. Likely they'd appreciate that jug of sweet water he'd promised them. He'd best get it ready.
Desperate Measures
All that time spent curing this tiresome host's body, and it couldn't escape this slave building? Preposterous!
It descended another flight of stairs, emerging in a dark tunnel. Here, perhaps, there might be an exit. But a figure barred its way: one of the humans, armed with a primitive projectile that might yet damage the newly-healed body. It could not risk the danger.
"Shoot me, and you'll kill the host," it tried, hoping for foolish sentiment to cause hesitation.
Then another human appeared, apparently not sentimental at all. Hmmm -- this one might have potential. The Goa'uld followed Simmons out.
Wormhole X-treme!
"I know you can do this, Lloyd," his backer said impatiently. "You don't need more funding."
"But I do! Really!" Martin almost wailed. "I can't produce the special effects you want without --"
"Of course you can," the mogul snapped. "I saw that final episode of Wormhole X-treme! Honestly, you can't win yourself an Emmy and expect that people won't notice."
"There were freak weather patterns involved," Martin said, knowing how lame it sounded. "Sir, I can create an extravaganza for you! But I'll need just a little --"
"That's the budget, Lloyd. Take it of leave it."
Martin sagged, defeated.
Proving Ground
Hammond had gone to talk to the trainees, but Kerrigan remained glued to the monitors, watching the proceedings.
He was pleased with how well they'd done so far, making most of the right choices. Kerrigan knew it was a risky business, choosing these young officers to serve at Stargate Command; too few of them were good enough to make the cut. But these four looked like they were going to pass.
The warning klaxon sounded, and Kerrigan leaned forward in anticipation. This was it -- the last challenge for Elliot. Time to see if the boy really had what it takes.
48 Hours
Tanith's eyes flashed with malevolent glee as he guided the al'kesh into the air. At last! Teal'c had been a tiresome thorn in his side for too long. Now, the Jaffa and his feeble allies would meet the death they deserved!
His loyal minons, Tanith knew, would pilot their gliders and strafe the ground before the chappa'ai. Doubtless they could easily kill Teal'c and the Tau'ri. But Tanith wanted to claim these deaths himself.
The ship cleared the trees; Tanith espied his quarry. He sneered, seeing the shol'va turn and raise his weapon in defiance. As if Teal'c could possib--
Summit
He'd been drifting, semi-conscious, for so long now. Lost. Bewildered.
Mourning his host, his friend.
Now crystal shattered and he was hurled from wet warmth into sharp-edged chaos. His senses were dimmed without a host, but he could hear screams and groans. This must be some kind of disaster, and he needed to...
To what, then? What could he do in this feeble state, without even a host?
A scrabbling sound at the edge of hearing made him twist around. He scented an unblended human, saw the twitching hand gesture for help.
Lantash hesitated, then slowly moved forward.
Last Stand
Orkum and his squad flung the disheveled Tok'ra at their master's feet, an offering and a triumph.
Zipacna's eyes glowed his approval. Secure in his might and power, he strolled over to the prone figure and prodded it with an elegant shoe. "I sense you are Tok'ra," he murmured, "yet you wear the costume of the despised Tau'ri. Which part of you will suffer more, I wonder? Tell me of the formula, and you will die relatively quickly."
The Tok'ra rolled over, gasping, fists clenched in pain. No, not pain -- a faint crunch --
Orkum suddenly found it hard to breathe.
Failsafe
There was a kind of horrified fascination in watching the numbers spin away into oblivion.
"Twenty seconds to failsafe," Paul murmured. The moments ticked past with finality. Nothing could stop the asteroid from hitting Earth now.
"Very well," Hammond said, and Paul couldn't help but marvel at the immense calmness of the man. "Take your positions with the last Alpha group. That's an order, Sergeant," he added pointedly when Harriman moved to protest.
Paul couldn't help himself. "General..." he started, but Hammond shook his head gently, firmly. He was still in command.
"Good luck," Paul managed, and obeyed Hammond's instructions.
Warrior
Or'nac watched with approval as Rak'nor fired at the target. Two strikes at such a distance in three attempts was a sign of a firm eye and a steady hand.
Then the female Tau'ri stepped forward. Or'nac felt his lip curl. Surely they did not expect a woman to challenge Rak'nor's impressive feat?
"Hey, you!" one of the Tau'ri shouted. "In the skirt!"
Or'nac blinked. Was that... an insult?
"Get that target swinging a little," the man called.
Instinctively, Or'nac looked to Kytano. The great Jaffa leader seemed calm, almost amused. With an inward shrug, Or'nac obeyed the strange instruction.
Menace
Westin's radio crackled. "The cameras in Isolation Room One are offline," a voice said crisply. It was Kramer, working the security cameras this shift.
"We're on it," Westin assured her. But when he swiped his card to open the robot's door, nothing happened. What was wrong?
He gestured to Branson to look through the observation windows upstairs. Branson mounted the steps, then...
"They're in here!" Branson shouted, his voice suddenly high with terror. Westin raced after him, rifle in his hands, and arrived in time to see an insect-like creature of living metal launch itself at Branson's unprotected back.
The Sentinel
Hammond stared at the report on the rogue NID members. O'Neill stood at attention, waiting his decision regarding taking Greaves and Kershaw back to Latona.
Hammond thought of Maybourne, who had also been asked to fix NID damage and used the opportunity to engineer his own escape. He didn't want a repeat of that disaster.
Still, Greaves reminded Hammond more of Makepeace than Maybourne: passionately committed to protecting the planet, not just self-serving aggrandizement of power. And lives were at stake here -- not just the Latonans, but also SG-9.
"All right, Colonel," he finally said. "You have a go."
Meridian
Jonas paced in agitation, clutching at his hair. This was wrong, wrong! He had frozen in sheer terror, while Dr. Jackson had saved all their lives. And now they were blaming Jackson for it!
The excitement over the naquadria's potential. The dismissal of the ethical implications. O'Neill's fierce challenge: I guarantee you it'll never have the effect you're hoping for until you use it at least once.
He'd tried to speak up; he'd been shouted down. He was the youngest, easily dismissed. No one would believe him!
Except the Tau'ri, a voice whispered in his mind.
Jonas swallowed, seeking courage.
Revelations
Osiris smiled down at his captive, allowing his host's eyes to glow. Three out of four of the infamous SG-1! Carter refused to betray Dr. Jackson's location, but punishment would soon convince her otherwise.
He toyed with the Tau'ri woman, enjoying the spasms of agony that twisted her face. Finally, he raised a languid hand, releasing her from her torture momentarily.
"Once more," he purred. "Where is Doctor Jackson?"
"He's dead," Carter gasped.
Osiris felt his own face twist. He told himself he wasn't reacting to his host's distress -- he wasn't. "You're lying!" he snarled furiously, and renewed his assault.