Title: Little People
Author: Danielle
Rating: PG (There's some swearing)
Disclaimer: All characters from the television series ‘Stargate SG-1’ belong to Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions.I’m only borrowing them for my personal entertainment, and I promise I’ll put them back all nice and proper. I didn’t profit from writing this piece, though if someone wants to pay me huge wads of cash for the copyright, I won’t argue. All original characters and situations belong to me, but you can use them if you really want to - just mail me first. Also mail me first if you want to archive this somewhere. Thank you kindly.
Summary: Response to both challenges #590 (details available HERE) and # 619 (which just asked for a fic without romance) at Heliopolis.
Author's Notes: The lyrics to both 'And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda' by John McDermott and 'Little People' from the musical 'Les Misérables' by Alain Boublil, Claude-Michel Schoneberg and Herber Kretzmer are reproduced without permission and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me! BTW, //....// designates thought.

Little People

'A worm can roll a stone/ A bee can sting a bear/
A fly can fly around Versailles 'cos flies don't care/
A sparrow in a hat can make a happy home/
A flea can bite the bottom of the Pope in Rome.'

-'Little People' Les Misérables

Prologue: 3rd June, 2000

My name is Rheannon O'Shea, B. Sc. (Microbiology) [Hon], and PhD. Its probably a bit daft to tell a journal, an inanimate object, my name and credentials - but I suppose if I ever lose it I've got a snowball's chance in hell of getting back. Anyways, I've decided to start a new journal to coincide with my starting a new job. Its at some place called Cheyenne Mountain, a military base in the middle of Colorado so I'm told. Wherever it is, it's a long way away from Mount Isa, Australia. But hopefully it'll be a change of pace from my last job at the CDC, where I've been alternating between driving a desk and travelling to third-world countries for five years. At the very least, it'll be a new office for me to clutter up with my junk and at least I'll be running the laboratory where I'm going. Now if that isn't an improvement, I don't know what is!

18th September, 2000

I can't believe it! General Hammond wants to actually send me off world with SG-1! Anyone else would probably feel flattered for the offer to 'gate travel with the flagship team, but for me this means 48 hours spent with *him* - Colonel Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill. The most ignorant man for miles around. Could my day get any worse? I doubt it. Now, if only someone would explain to me why the hell I dislike that man so much, because I honestly don't know why I do…

Gods, 0900 hours tomorrow is going to kick of the most uncomfortable 48 hours of my life!

"Come in doctor," General Hammond said, motioning for Rhea to enter his office.

"Is there a problem general?" she asked, clearly wary of being called to his office - she hadn't had to see him for at least two months. Besides, she'd spotted Colonel O'Neill the moment she'd opened the door, and he rarely bode well for her mental health. She didn't know why she disliked him so much - she normally didn't have too many problems with military types, but there was something that just rubbed her up the wrong way.

"No, not a problem as such," Hammond replied evenly. Rhea stiffened slightly - somehow she just knew he was going to say something that was going to have one helluva whammy on it. "I would like you to join SG-1 for its next mission."

She just about choked. "Excuse me?"

"I would like you to join SG-1 for its next mission," the general repeated mildly.

One thought overwhelmed her at that moment. //I've got to spend over 24 hours with O'Neill?//

"Sir, with all due respect, I really can't afford to take time out from the pathology laboratory. As you are well aware, we're going to be undergoing something of a transition in the immediate future..." She let her voice trail off before it began to look like she was begging out of the mission. Which she was. "Sir, you can't do this!"

"I don't believe that your temporary absence will affect the everyday operation of your department. I can do this, and I already have."

She let out a breath. //The poor bloke's gone totally bonkers! Okay, so the reasonable - true - excuse hasn't worked, maybe I can beat him down with the reason for this little jaunt.// "May I ask why I have been... chosen to travel off-world? As I think we're all aware, my record with 'gate travel hasn't exactly been exemplary and I don't see any real reason for accompanying SG-1 off-world."

"I understand that you are proficient with several weapons," Hammond said out of the blue, without answering her question.

"A few," she hedged. //Who told him?//

"Upon discussing it with Doctor Fraiser, I believe that it would be beneficial that you were to become something of a 'regular' with regard to 'gate travel. Given that you are already well-accustomed with the use of some standard weapons according to Captain Theron, even past the experience of those scientists or civilians already on SG teams, and that you run the department of interest I believe that you are well-equipped for regular off-world travel."

Rhea balked a little at the phrase 'department of interest' and then finally realised what he was getting at. "No doubt I'm going to sound like a thicky, but why me? I'm well aware of the fact that several of the teams have managed to come across therapies and drugs that could be used routinely here on Earth, but I'm the last person you'd want to send off-world."

"Why is that doctor?" the general asked mildly.

"Well sir, most of the antibiotics in use are mostly derived from various fungi, not bacteria. I'd say you'd be better off sending a mycologist on this mission." There it was, the perfect reason why she didn't have to go. Just one problem, there wasn't a mycologist in the SGC - she knew for a fact that the nearest one in terms of clearance was posted at Nellis.

"You know as well as I do that there aren't any mycologists present as a part of the pathology department doctor." A stern tone was creeping into his voice.

"I could always get the one from Nellis over," she offered, trying to keep the wheedling note out of her voice and failing miserably.

"I'm sorry doctor, but that isn't a viable option. At 0900 hours tomorrow, you will accompany SG-1 to P5R 739 on a standard reconnaissance mission. The formal briefing will be at 1400 hours. Dismissed."

Rhea opened her mouth to further argue the point, decided against it when the general shot her a glare that would've melted titanium without too many hassles. Nodding silently, she stepped out of the office.

"You'd better be as good as Theron says," O'Neill said, less than a heartbeat after he closed the door. "Are you sure you're up to off-world travel?"

Here he was, offering to get her out of it. Rhea turned and fixed him with her best glare - he'd just turned an unwanted chore into a point of honour. "Are you sure you can't stick your head up your arse?" she asked sweetly, before turning on her heel and stalking away.

Before the briefing, she had a certain base combat trainer she wanted to have few words with.

Rhea wandered into the embarkation room with an enormous pack strapped to her back, an AK47 MISR 90 suspended from a strap over her right shoulder, a Beretta 92FS in a holster at her hip, an enormous hunting knife in its sheath at her other hip... and a guitar swinging from its own strap on her left shoulder. She was definitely prepared for anything.

"What is that?" O'Neill grated at her from where he was checking over his team. He indicated the guitar she was carrying.

"A rottweiler. I believe in carrying unconcealed weapons," Rhea replied mildly. An intense workout with James Theron earlier that morning was helping her temper to stay even - she was too tired to feel anything. Besides, he'd owed her that much for dropping her in it like he had.

"That isn't authorised equipment." The colonel stepped in front of her to block her path to the 'gate.

"Neither's your mouth, but you don't see me complaining." She just gave him a disdainful look. "Don't even think about forcing me to leave it at home. Either I bring it, or I bitch about the military for the entire two days - and you can ask anyone who knows me about my talents in that direction." Adjusting the strap, she looked him straight in the eye and dared him to tell her to leave it behind. Obviously, her statement the day before had had some sort of impact on him, because he merely sighed and shook his head in exasperation. Let him, she wasn't about to look this particular gift horse in the mouth, for the time being at least.

"Well, since our temporary fifth has deigned to join us, we'd better get moving." He waved up to technician in the control room, at which point the 'gate roared into life.

Rhea unconsciously gripped the neck of her guitar as the chevrons locked and the wormhole opened. To she was slightly nervy was something of an understatement, but she was at least a heavily and fully prepared nervous person this time around. O'Neill strode up the ramp purposefully and into event horizon. Telling her stomach to get back where it belonged - in her abdomen - Rhea stepped up alongside the blonde, female major and into oblivion one more time...

"Shouldn't we set up a camp or something?" Rhea suggested after the quintet had spent roughly ten hours thoroughly checking out the geography - and basically she was pooped.

"I agree Jack, I don't think we're going to find more before the sun goes down," Daniel Jackson concurred. He'd had just about as interesting day as she had. This planet had nothing much more to look at than extremely tall evergreens and some rather pretty wildflowers. Not even any rock paintings or signs of civilisation that could distract her for a few moments (or Dr Jackson for a few hours).

"Okay then campers, let's lock down for the night." Like a well-oiled machine, SG-1 quickly set up a camp and secured the perimeter. Even though O'Neill had made it fairly obvious that he doubted her skills as a bushwoman, he at least had the good grace to look impressed when she speedily put up her tent and then offered to gather some firewood. (Obviously, all of those years going camping with her father when she was young had ended up having more of an impact than she'd first assumed.) She soon returned with a pretty hefty bundle of sticks and a fire was quickly lit and 'dinner' was on to warm up.

Rhea couldn't help but notice the way that she was physically separated from the rest of the team by gap of a few feet. She wasn't overly surprised, after all, she was something of an unknown quantity beyond the fact that she could swear better than most sailors, wasn't overly hopeless at bushwhacking and she disliked the colonel with a passion. Oh, and she was the one who managed to save the entire human race's scrawny backsides not so long ago from an incredibly deadly virus. Not one of them attempted to make conversation with her, and she couldn't have really been bothered to have a go herself. //Let them think that I'm an arrogant so-and-so. After this, I probably won't have to see them beyond walking past them in the corridors.// Retrieving her guitar (actually, it was her housemate Tim's, but he didn't mind that she borrowed it. He had three of them, after all) she began to strum quietly. The other four stayed silent, so she started playing the first song that came into her head.

"Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack/
And I lived the free life of the rover/
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback/
I waltzed my Matilda all over/
Then in 1915, my country said 'Son/
It's time to stop ramblin' there's work to be done'/
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun/
And they sent me away to the war."

Still no complaints, so she kept going.

"And the band played 'Waltzing Matilda'/ As the ship pulled away from the quay/
And amid all the cheers, flag waving and tears/ We sailed off to Gallipoli."

Surprisingly, for Rhea at least, she got through the song, finishing with the stanza of 'Waltzing Matilda' that John McDermott finished with on the recording she'd had for several years. The group was silent for a few moments, until nature screamed at her.

"If you'll excuse me..." she said, standing up and heading into the small amount of brush surrounding their campsite.

"Where're you going?" O'Neill asked before she got too far.

"Off to chase butterflies," she shot back, unable to help herself. When she had some spare time, she was going to have to analyse her extreme dislike for him, but right now all she could think of was obtaining a little physical relief.

O'Neill waved to Carter, who stood up and moved to accompany her.

"Uh, I don't need any help, although the thought is appreciated," Rhea said, a little apprehensively.
"No-one goes anywhere by themselves after dark," O'Neill explained, as if she were a child.

"Yeah, well last time I checked, I was old enough and ugly enough to relieve myself without someone having to hold my hand." She grasped the major's shoulder and quickly spun her around, giving her a gentle push towards the camp. "I think I can manage without an audience."

Before anyone could say anything else, and before Carter could turn around, she disappeared into the darkness.

"Did she take a flashlight?" she heard Daniel ask.

"Yes! And it's called a torch!" she called back, although she didn't bother turning it on. One thing she was eternally grateful for was her perfect night vision, and she intended making use of it as often as possible. However, she didn't quite get around to relieving herself, because she was interrupted by the sound of the brush exploding with life. Shrinking back against the tree she'd taken cover behind and quickly pulled her hunting knife free from its sheath (regardless of how secure the perimeter was, she wasn't to wander completely unarmed, given the recent Goa'uld meetings). But through some miracle of God, whoever it was that was kept tramping past her and towards the camp. As soon as they were past, she was standing and following as silently as she possibly could until she reached the tree line immediately surrounding the camp.

As she watched silently, O'Neill was dealt a heavy blow to the head when he dared to retaliate against their capture. Within minutes, the group was rounded up and being forced back through the forest in the opposite direction from which they'd come. A few of the captors remained behind to remove the weapons - including hers.

//Damn, blast and bugger// she thought harshly. She almost stopped breathing when their gazes swept in her general direction, but they missed her and soon followed their colleagues... and her temporary team. When she was finally alone, she started shaking and had to sit down before she fell down.

"What'm I going to do?" she whispered, wishing that she were going to get a reply.

Rhea crept as silently as she could towards the large pyramid she'd managed to track SG-1 and the captors towards. Of course, they'd left nothing behind that could act remotely as a weapon, but through the grace of God, they'd left behind a coil of rope, so at least she could practise her absieling if need be. She hoped she wouldn't have to, because she'd always sucked at it worse than a Hoover. She scanned the slight length of open ground between the tree line, wondering how it was that the bad guys always managed to find a clearing the exact size their ships needed.

"Okay, this isn't going to be difficult. Just run in, create a mother of a diversion and wait for them to get themselves out of it," she pep talked herself. "Right, let's go."

But, instead of going, she stepped back into the shadows. //What'm I doing? I'm not military, I'm a bloody scientist!// she thought wildly as she began to pace. Then she paused. //No, I can do this, even if it's just so that O'Neill will have to grovel at my feet... or something. I've got to do this.// On a whim, she picked up some small rocks and shoved them into her jacket pocket.

After the team had been taken, she'd briefly considered going back to the 'gate and trying to get back to the SGC. But then she'd realised that she didn't have one of those GDO thingamywhatsits, and none had been conveniently left behind for her to use. Besides, she didn't know the code needed in order to open the iris - had to love 'em for sending her halfway across the galaxy with no way to get home. Of course, she could've always tried to go to a different planet and hope like crazy that someone there would be able to help her - but it would've helped if she actually knew the co-ordinates for another planet.

"Right O'Shea, you're now the next best thing to being a female Action Man." Taking a deep breath, she scooted over to the base of the pyramid in a crouched run. When she finally reached it, she pressed her back against the seemingly smooth surface and breathed a small sigh of relief at not being caught yet. //Now, how to get into this thing...// She'd managed to perform a quick search around the structure from the relative safety of the tree-line, and had been amazed to find no obvious entrances. Upon getting closer to the structure, she noted that although the steps weren't nearly as large as the real pyramids, they were still just large enough for a desperate person to climb - and right now, she was as desperate as a person got. She sent up a little 'thank you' to whatever deity that was listening for giving her a very literal foothold. //Don't know how I'm going to do this without getting caught...// she thought as she slowly began to scale the side of the pyramid. Sometimes using her knife to aid her progress, she reached a ledge before she even realised she'd been close to one.

"That wasn't hard," she murmured, then quickly shut her mouth. Half-expecting to see shots flying left, right and centre because some sensor or another had picked her up, she crawled into the recess. She sat there for about ten minutes, praying to the various Gods around the place that the sensors were ratshit and that all of the people inside were asleep or... something. Anything. Who cares that she should be suspicious about the lack of reaction! Maybe when they were done, they'd give her a hand to get inside, because it looked like the windows weren't made of glass.

Reaching out, her fingertips buzzed slightly as they came into contact with something along the lines of a force field. She ran her palm over the surface, hoping against hope that she'd find some sort of weakness that she could take advantage of. No such luck in the immediate vicinity, so she worked her way along the bank of 'windows' until she was just about on the opposite side of the pyramid. It was all she could do to stop herself from yelping in fright as her hand passed through the force field and into thin air.

//Okay, now to find out if I can squeeze my big, fat arse through the hole...// she thought as she moved her hand in an increasing spiral until she felt a against her wrist. She had a hole about a foot-and-a-half in diameter to work with. //Maybe that's why they're here - their ship's stuffed.//

Experimentally, she poked her head through the invisible hole - no buzz. Backing up, she stuck her arms above her head and tried to thread through hands first. After watching that Tatum chick get her head smashed in 'Scream' she'd realised that a woman had a better chance of getting through a small space by sticking her arms above her head and going hands first - not only did you decrease the space shoulders took up, it flattened your boobs too. She'd only gotten through as far as her waist when she heard a guttural voice yelling to the high heavens.

"You will tell us what we wish to know or you will die!" it demanded. //Nothing like rehashing an old movie line in order to reinforce the cliché// Rhea thought as she paused with her top half inside and her back half outside. She craned her neck to try to see over the edge of the ledge on the inside, but only managed to catch a glimpse of someone dressed in a hideous red outfit before her nerve deserted her and she pulled back.

"I told you, we know nothing!" She recognised O'Neill's voice replying harshly.

"You do indeed know 'something,'" even she could hear the menace in the person's voice, "and you will tell me, or you will watch your comrades perish."

"Oh come on, can't you guys come up with a better threat than that?" Jack replied, just as Rhea was pulling her legs through.

"Unlike my fellow system lords, mine is not an empty threat. You have broken your part of the 'Protected Planets Treaty' and as such your lives are forfeit. Unlike Apophis, I have no qualms killing you." Rhea inched forward and squinted to see whoever it was that was threatening SG-1. Once again, she copped an eyeful of awful magenta outfit, but this time she could see enough that it was obvious that this person was a female. //Must have a sore throat// she thought with a mental shrug. Then the woman's eyes flashed as she raised her right hand and something in it began to glow. Both the thing strapped to her palm and the eye party-trick told Rhea that this woman was one of the Goa'uld - an alien race she'd heard plenty of stories about.

She quickly glanced around overly large chamber, noting the Celtic motif on the walls. Whoever this Goa'uld was impersonating, it was one of the Celtic pantheon - a group she was well and truly familiar with thanks to her Irish heritage. //Right, now, how to distract that lot down there.// Even though there weren't too many guards, they were heavily armed. Then she remembered her rocks. Fishing out two, she took aimed at the woman's head and tossed one at her for all she was worth. Surprisingly, for her and the woman too, it struck her somewhere approaching right between the eyes, knocking her flat on her back. The first rock was quickly followed by a second one clanging off the helmet of a guard standing beside her.

A cry went up of "Protect Brigantia, protect the Queen!" as weapons swung in her general direction and began firing willy-nilly at and around her. Scooting quickly towards the front of the room, Rhea paused only to hurl a few more stones at some guards and see if SG-1 were making the most of the opportunity she was giving them. Surely enough, they were - she spotted O'Neill and Teal'c wrestling with two of the guards, while Jackson and Carter (who'd somehow managed to procure themselves some weapons) were shooting at the ones now piling into the room. Seeing that she could probably draw some more attention away from the team, Rhea stood up on the ledge.

"Hey!! Look at me!!" She waved her arms and jumped around. "Hey, intruder up here! I've got rocks!!" Just to add to the effect, and because she just felt like it, she blew a raspberry and shook her backside around before ducking back out of sight. The walls either side of her exploded into dust clouds, along with the edge of the ledge, and she cringed as the dust got into her eyes. Seemed like this Brigantia person went in for the realistic stone effect. Probably to be expected for someone imitating a Celtic war goddess.

"Kill her!!!" she heard the Goa'uld Queen yell, and she had to duck because of all the shrapnel flying around her. Realising that she was probably out of coincidences and that it was definitely time to make a tactical retreat, she began to inch back the way she came, with explosions following her progress. She was almost halfway back to where she'd gotten in when the ledge gave way beneath her booted feet. By some miracle, she managed to turn herself around and grasp the shattered ledge with one hand before she'd fallen too far. Gripping it with her other hand, she attempted to pull herself up by brute strength alone, but only managed to get halfway. //Why haven't the shot me yet?// she wondered idly as she tried again, this time swinging a toe onto the stone as well. Not quickly enough for her piece of mind, she was lying on the ledge panting like a dog. Summoning up her courage, she peered over the edge and down onto the room below here. It looked like a cyclone had hit it, and hit it well. Bodies were lying all over the place like so much flotsam and jetsam, Brigantia's included. Large holes had been blown in the walls, with the resulting debris scattered all over the place. But, SG-1 were still standing, although the four of them look a little worse for wear.

"Hello?" she called down.

"O'Shea?" O'Neill yelled up at her, turning around to see where she was.

"Last time I checked." Her voice sounded a little wavery, something to be expected after a near-death experience. "Um, how're you going to get out of there?"

"Sir, I think these were all of the guards," Major Carter said, looking around that the unconscious/dead bodies. "She didn't seem too well-equipped."

"She was not. There were none of the usual courtiers that the System Lords prefer to keep with them in order to provide them with the deference they want," Teal'c added.

"You're saying she was a second-rate System Lord?" O'Neill asked.

"Well Jack, all of her followers might've been killed in an accident or something," Daniel offered.

"That would be why nothing's working," Rhea said from her position a couple of metres above their heads.

"How do you mean?" Carter asked her.

"How do you think I got in here? I just can't walk through solid material, unless there's something someone's not telling me," Rhea explained. "I don't think any of their sensors are working and their forcefield windows have at least one hole in them. And it was big enough for me to squeeze my backside through, so I think its safe to assume that there may be more."

"Well, I for one am not willing to take my chances," O'Neill countered. "If this is anything like your usual Goa'uld mother ship, its probably got guards located in the woodwork as well as coming out of it."

"Oh for fuck's sake," she growled in annoyance, and pursed her lips. They'd just figured out that there weren't any more guards and that Brigantia wasn't the most well equipped System Lord this side of Pluto. "Look, I've got a rope up here. I'll secure it to something and toss it down for you lot to climb up." Standing up, she began to pick her way through the blast holes in the ledge as she headed towards where she'd gotten in - and where she'd left the rope. However, when the floor went out from underneath her a second time she didn't quite the same luck as she'd had first-time around…