"So let's go over this *one* more time, right...."
McLeod sighed, as she buckled the straps on her pack. "What?"
"They're not going to *notice* we're missing?" Shoe finished zipping up her fake-regulation-issue, incredibly-drab-olive jacket.
"No." McLeod answered, leaning over to tie up her bootlace. "Here's the plan....for the fourth time...." she sighed, wishing for once Marian would just take the time to go over their orders in the same minute detail that she did. *She* could recite their mission plan by heart. Word-perfect.
Backwards. In ten different languages. Including Goa'uld.
Some people had Agatha Christie; Annie McLeod had Orders.
"We go through the Stargate with SG-6..."
"Where we systematically take out the other three members of the team and use our remotes to skip it to P3X-593."
Shoe paused. "See, this is where I sense a problem..."
McLeod shook her head, and reached inside her breast pocket. "Ah, but you're forgetting *this*...."
There was a pause.
"No I'm not."
Annie shot her partner a puzzled glance. "Eh?"
"I'm not forgetting That, because I've never *seen* That before." Shoe replied. "What the bloody hell is It? And why don't I have one?"
Annie looked at the objects in her hand. A small vial, and an injector: codenamed 'Hypospray'. (The vial's label cryptically proclaimed the clear green liquid as 'X-Serum'). She sighed again. So, make that too many James Bond movies *and* too much Star Trek for the science department. "It's a serum. One shot of this, and they're out cold till we wake them up again. And then they come round with whatever happy memory of the mission we tell them they've got."
Shoe frowned slightly. "That's awfully convenient, isn't it?"
"Just go with it."
Shoe swallowed as the Stargate splashed open.
"SG-6, you have a go. Good luck." Hammond announced over the PA.
The Agents approached the wormhole behind their Commanding Officer, Col. Name-Removed-For-Legal-Purposes, and paused at it's entrance.
"You go first."
McLeod sighed and stepped forward. At the last moment, her hand shot out and grabbed Shoe. "If I go, I'm taking you wi' me."
The last thing to echo round the Gateroom, as the SGC's newest recruits entered the wormhole for the first time, was an oddly-Australian sounding..
"When they wake up..." Marian commented, leaning over the merrily-slumbering body of their CO, "..they are gonna be pissed."
"No, they're no'." Annie replied. "They're gonnae be whatever we tell them to be." She checked her watch. "Now, we've got and hour and a half or so till SG-1 go to P3X-593. That's enough time for us to get there, and check out the local population. In a strictly professional sense." She added, to
quell Shoe's hopeful expression.
Sighing, Marian trudged (in a slinky manner) back over to the DHD, fumbled around a bit 'till she produced a dog-eared piece of paper, and began punching in the co-ordinates she'd written down. The Gate *whooshed* open.
Shoe turned around to face McLeod.
"You go first..."
As the wormhole tore itself closed, a figure stirred on the soggy ground. Shaking his head to clear the slightly fuzzy sensation left over from the DSA agent's serum, he clambered to his feet. Fools! Did they not know the AARA had many ways to combat their pitiful potions?!
The Agent cackled satanically, started forward, tripped, picked himself up, wove
unsteadily towards the Stargate, tripped again, caught himself on the DHD and began punching in the correct sequence on the Dialing Device (all three of them).
The wormhole *whoosed* open again, and The Agent staggered his way as evilly as possible through the shimmering light.
Behind a Horse's Arse
0915 h EST
"Okay, so tell me again *why* we chose to accept this mission?" Marian groused as the two agents crouched low behind the furry prosterior of a horse's arse.
Agent McLeod did not pause in her searching through her almost-but-not-quite-Air-Force-Issue backpack to throw her partner a silencing glare.
Behind a Horse's Arse
0915 h EST
"Okay, so tell me again *why* we chose to accept this
mission?" Marian groused as the two agents crouched
low behind the furry posterior of a horse's arse.
Agent McLeod paused in her search through her
almost-but-not-quite-Air-Force-Issue backpack to throw
her partner a silencing glare. Ah, the joys of being
the *sophisticated* one!
With a triumphant 'A-ha!', the DSA Agent whipped out a
pair of standard DSA-issue binoculars, which could be
used both day and night, *and* it also doubled as a
whiskey flask. (Yet another useful...yet somewhat
troubling product of the DSA's Science Department).
Annie carefully positioned the binoculars between the
oblivious legs of the alien horse and peered through
the lenses, dictating what she saw to the woman beside
"Tents...more tents...a fire pit..."
"Yeah, yeah. That's all very good." Complained
Marian, "But is there any sign of *them*?"
Marian rolled her eyes in frustration. "The ARAA?"
A hurried silence settled as McLeod processed Marian's
words. "Oh. I knew that. I was just...testing."
0918 h EST
Big Chieftainess Shaimou crossed her meaty forearms
across her equally meaty chest and eyed the two pants
clad women before her, holding between them a garishy
decorated dress and an equally garish head-dress.
"I do not understand." Said the tribal leader
haughtily. "You want me to relinquish my precedence
over my tribe to my *husband*, and then you want us to
demand that the foreign woman trade her clothes for
this...hideous contraption?" Shaimou fingered the
blue silk with disdain and glared down at the
foreigners, still grinning hopefully. "How do you
even know that these foreigners are coming?"
"Call it a hunch." Marian said, sharing a glance with
her still hopefully grinning partner.
Shaimou looked at them warily and accepted the dress.
"Okay. But if anything goes wrong, I will not be so
patient with your foreign...oddities..."
The two agents gathered their packs and stood up from
their kneeling position on the ground. "Sweet, thanks
Annie handed the Chieftainess a slightly crinkled
photograph. "This is the one to whom you will give
the dress. Go' it?" The blue -eyed agent pointed a
finger next to the face of Captain Carter, smiling
obliviously from the secretly-taken photo.
Shaimou nodded, and took the picture. "Very well. O
Foreigners, we shall do as you wish."
SG-1 stepped through the wormhole to "Pee Thrree
Eycks, Fahve- Nahner-Fahve. Let's go, campers!"
Colonel Jack O'Neill finished off his quick scan of
the horizon and turned back to his team. Sam had
already moved across to the MALP and was checking it
carefully. He looked across to Daniel, the other
scientist on his team, and watched in amusement as he
scratched his head and munched on a candy bar. Beside
the DHD stood Teal'c. Tall, proud, loyal. A pillar
of strength, really. He could move you across the
town. *Or* across the nation. He was as pure and
true as any warrior should be.
Captain Carter moved back over to stand beside him
after she had finished playing with the MALP.
"All set Sir." She informed, as she reached up her
fingers to brush across her nose. Personal habit.
She always did that. Not that he was noticing or
"Very good Captain, c'mon kids, let's move out!"
Behind a strategically placed bush
The two DSA Agents crouched down low behind their
custom-made bush. Dubbed the 'Porta-Bush' by the very
clever technicians of the Defence Shipper Agency.
They watched with avid interest as the SGC's Flagship
Team (Who looked neither like flags, nor ships)
exited through the Stargate onto the grassy plateau.
"They're heading the wrong way!" Marian whispered, as
Colonel O'Neill lead SG-1 in the opposite direction.
McLeod furrowed her neatly trimmed eyebrows while she
thought of what to do. "Jings..." She whispered
back, watching in alarm as their subjects disappeared
further. "Do y'have any Plot Devices with you?"
Agent Shoe sat up and rummaged through the many
pockets on her Olive-Green BDUs. She pulled out a
small camouflaged tin, with little hearts drawn around
it. The inscription on the lid read
'Defence Shipper Agency - Libero pullus'
"Release the chicken?"
Marian shrugged "Don't ask me, I didn't write it."
She opened up the lid and extracted several small
objects which clipped together to form a metallic
"How the hell is that going to help?" McLeod asked,
staring incredulously at the iridescent contraption.
"Trust me." Marian offered, as she wound up the
little insect and sent it on its way.
Behind yet another strategically placed bush, the dark
eyes of an evil ARAA Agent glittered as he watched the
Stargate's premier team wander off into the forest.
He tapped his evil little fingertips together with
malicious glee and cackled manically (in a hushed
whisper, of course. It would not do one good to give
away one's location).
He added a little more water to his ARAA issued
Betty-Crocker's Instant Foliage, Mix'n'Go and made
himself another scrawny-looking tree. The Agent
frowned, disappointed in the pitiful lustre of the
shrub's tiny leaves. With a grin of pure psychotic
evil, he whipped out his zippo lighter and incinerated
the scrawny little tree.
A faint buzzing noise caught his evil attention and he
looked up. A shimmering metallic dragonfly whizzed
past him at lightning-speed, heading directly towards
the straying SG team.
He frowned. Damn. The DSAs had counteracted his
plan. His black eyes glinted satanically. Fools.
First the X Serum and now *this*? Ha! Did they
*really* think that they could out-manoeuvre him?
From his tiny box of Evil Plot Devices he pulled out a
collapsible metal bird. He tuned it to the DSA
Dragonfly's frequency and let it fly, grinning
gleefully as the sparrow knocked the dragonfly out of
the air and then crashed into a nearby tree.
Marian and Annie watched in dismay as their dragonfly
contraption was taken out of the air by a metallic
"So what do we do now? There's no more of those
Annie pursed her lips and thought...thoughtfully.
The Agents watched impassively as a young man, clad in a very
un-sexy turban, came sprinting over the hill towards the team. SG-1
rushed gallantly to save him.
"There's a guy being chased by some...Alsatians? Some kinna' big
McLeod peered through the binoculars. "Wait, wait...that's Abu!"
"Abu! The Chieftainess'son. Maybe this is their ploy to get the team to the camp themselves!
The send out their bravest young man, set a pack of well trained
dogs after him, to make it look like he's in serious danger. Then,
SG-1, not knowing he's perfectly safe from aforementioned dogs, go to save him! Clever..."
McLeod watched as Abu jumped and yelped, bitten in the posterior by
a big, pissed-off dog."
"Or not." she sighed.
Shoe took the binoculars. "Damn, I think we may have a Random
Element crisis on our hands....
Behind Strategic Bush II
The AARA agent giggled madly behind his bush. The dogs had been a
nice touch. The Evil Plot Devices Department must have sent them
through earlier. He let his beady little eyes travel to the SGC
team, who were even now frightening the dogs off, and scowled. Damn.
But no matter. There was a Shavadi hunting party a little way off.
If SG-1 weren't going to be eaten by dogs, they'd be skewered by
Huns. Pulling out Betty-Crocker's Instant Foliage, Mix'n'Go once
again, he began to make himself a nice line of shrubbery leading
away from the bush. A few trees and a fuschia bush later, the ARRA
agent noticed some unexpected attention to his foliage. He turned
around slowly, and was met by a pair of mean little glinting eyes,
and a cocked leg.
Behind Strategic Bush I
"Was that plant always there?" Marian Shoe prodded her partner, who
shot her a withering glare.
"That plant? That one, over there......." McLeod glanced in the
direction of the small rainforest that had appeared to the Agent's
right. "Probably." she hissed. "Now if you've finished exercising your inane powers of observation, follow me."
Shoe cast one final look back at the suspicious clump of shrubbery
and sighed. Ah well. Horticulture had never been her strong point
anyway. "Where are we going now?"
One Speedy Escape from a Pack of Angry Dogs Later...
"And one of them....is a *woman*!" The AARA Agent finished with a
The lead horseman nodded. "Yup. You said."
The Agent pouted, then caught himself and turned it into a more
suitably evil, contemptuous sneer. This was not going at all the way he had planned. The EvilBossMan would not be pleased. Or worse. He could be upset.
"So...so..." Inspiration struck him like lightning to a guy with a
metal plate in his head. " I am with the foreigners." he stated. "And the great Chieftainess said you were to help the foreigners, right?"
"So...go...I don't know. Arrest her. Execute her. Be Macho!"
The horsemen glanced at each other. The second-from-the-front
"Ummmmmmm-ed" a little and cast a hesitative glance at the leader.
The AARA agent sighed.
"What if I told you she was tall, blonde and....and a part-time
It really was amazing how fast a horse could go, when urged, he
concluded as he spat out dust.
Behind DSA Strategic Bush 17
"I don't like this." McLeod stated.
Shoe scowled. When *she* had a problem with trees it was
inconsequential, but when *Annie* didn't like
"What is it?"
McLeod handed her the binoculars-cum-whiskey flasks and pointed to
the horizon. "There's a big dust cloud approaching."
"Oh...call the National Guard." Shoe snarked. She was crouched
behind a scrawny little bush (which she was sure was an overgrown
poison ivy plant), her clothes were covered in dirt and she had
twigs in her hair. Now was not the time for bubbly-cheerfulness.
Now was the time to get bitchy.
"There are three or four horsemen approaching."
"Maybe we'll get lucky and it's the coming of the bloody
McLeod nodded. "Maybe..."
Not for the first time, Shoe wondered if her partner really was
hanging onto her every word. "Riiight."
The horsemen thundered over the horizon, pulling up short just in
front of the SG team. Was it her imagination, or did they look a
little disappointed. One of them gestured to the leader, making strange gestures which made it look like he was trying to Hokey-Cokey and stir soup at the same time. This, McLeod assumed, was obviously an ancient greeting tradition. The leader shrugged and scowled, then turned his attention back to SG-1. McLeod wrenched the binoculars back, the reached a hand behind her. "These things work better wi' both lenses in place, you know."
Shoe reluctantly handed back the whiskey flask she'd been trying to
unscrew the top off of.
"Bugger it anyway." she peered at the distant group. "What's he
"I can't hear, but he seems upset by something."
"I think...I think it's Carter. They're pointing.....shit! They're
pointing weapons at her!"
"No!" Shoe exclaimed.
"Yes!" O'Neill's firing a pistol! They've put the weapons
down.........the little guy's talking to them and....oh..oh...here
comes Shaimou's husband! He's saying something..."
Marian tried to wrestle the binoculars from her partner and was unceremoniously shoved to the ground. "Now...they're leading them off! Yes!" McLeod smiled triumphantly. "Couldn't have worked better if we'd planned it! Now, for phase two........come on!"
A little way off, unseen by either Agent, a specimen of the AARA's finest cursed, incinerated another tree, singed his eyebrows, and accidentally sparked off a small forest fire .
Behind Four Horses Arse's
Daniel Jackson was practically skipping along the ground behind the
Shavadi men. Damn, but this was exciting! Not quite as exciting as
waking up on an infirmary bed to find Dr. Fraiser looking down at him...but that was a whole 'nother kind of exciting anyway.
An ancient civilisation, distantly descended from the
descender's descendants of Earth! What a stroke of
luck indeed. For once Jack had gotten past his
infatuation with blowing things up and had agreed to
go with the natives and investigate the local
medicinal plant life.
The whimsical portion of Daniel's mind (which
consisted of nearly three-quarters of the surface area
of his brain), thought to itself that Janet would be
mightily impressed if he could bring back to her some
sort of miracle cure. That three-quarter portion of
his brain had started a liking for the SGC's newest
military doctor, her dazzling smile reminding him of
the things he was missing out on from his kidnapped
Perhaps if one day he found that his beloved wife was
dead (god forbid), he would be able to explore his
feelings further for the good doctor. But for now,
the excited archaeologist pondered, as he skipped his
way merrily along behind the horse's tails, he was
quite happy to simply sit and admire her from afar.
Daniel tuned back into the tribesmen's enthusiastic
chattering as they drew nearer to the Shavadai
campsite. The Chieftain's women came rushing out to
greet them, armed with cheery smiles and chipmunk -
like chatter as they fawned over the Chieftain's son
One of the women took a surreptitious glance at Major
Carter and then covertly compared her with the face of
the woman in the photo given to her by the two strange
Like a herd of moving sheep, the women led the
visitors to a yak-skin yurt, which reeked of rancid
milk and vaguely reminded Daniel that he needed to
wash his feet.
Once inside, the SG team was seated upon bundles of
cloth trying to pass themselves off as cushions.
Daniel thankfully planted his ass down upon the
Rancid reeking piles of cloth, sighing in relief
that he could rest his tired legs again. (Although,
he pondered, it would be so much better to be resting
them in the company of Doctor Fraiser, but that was so
totally beside the point that it was really quite
pointless even bothering to think about it.
A Different Yurt
"How are we going for time?" Demanded Annie, throwing off her
backpack and letting it roll around on the yak skin covered ground.
Shoe glanced at her DSA Issued On the Dot watch and grimaced, almost
ripping off the buttons of her forest green BDU's as she shucked it
off in her haste. "Sixty seconds and counting." She replied,
stumbling around inside the small rancid yak tent as she tried to
take her pants off over her GP boots.
"You know, it would probably be easier if you took your shoes of
first." McLeod pointed out helpfully as she expertly removed her SG
uniform and squirmed her way into a ridiculous Shavadi costume.
Marian scowled. "Thirty two point nine five seconds." And promptly
fell over onto her arse with a definitely un-slinky thwack. "Aw
After attaching her own rather over-elaborate headdress to her head,
McLeod went over to help the less talented Agent with her costume.
"Here, let me do that." Annie tugged on the dresses drawstrings
(there didn't seem to be a better word for it) violently and then
tied them into a neat little
half-hitch-cross-latched-three-quarter-clove-loop bow and then
patted her on the back. "How much time now?"
"Twenty nine point zero seven."
"Aw jings, here, you cover up our bags and stuff and I'll lay out
the dress. Go go go!"
The Agents sprang into action, Marian stuffed their bags and
clothing underneath a bundle of conveniently placed rags as Annie
went about laying their custom-made DSA Issued, SexAppeal!(tm) dress
out on the floor.
"Eleven seconds. We gotta go!" Urged Marian, almost tripping over
the hems of her Shavadai woman's dress as she rushed out of the yurt
with Annie in tow.
The two Shipper Agents sprinted across the dewy wet grass as fast as
their ridiculous skirts would allow, skidding to a tandemly precise
halt just outside the chieftainess' tent, where Shaimou's husband
had just finished declaring that Captain Carter would have to become
properly attired before negotiations would begin.
They caught the end of Carter's protest just as Daniel said:
"Anthropologists do it all the time. They dress and live as the
people they're studying."
"I'm not an anthropologist." Threw back Sam, presumably shaking
her head (it was kind of hard to see these things when one had a
layer of tent wall in front of one's eyes)
The cocky voice of Colonel O'Neill proceeded to save the day. "You
"Okay, that's gotta be our cue. " Annie declared, pulling her
Shavadi veil up over her face, "Come on."
Waddling in awkwardly, the two disguised agents entered the
chieftainess' tent and retrieved the rather reluctant Captain
Carter, leading her across the soggy green grass to the Other Yurt
in which she would be 'properly attired'.
"Look girls, can't we talk about this?" Protested Captain Carter as
they began removing her uniform and shoes.
Marian looked up at the Captain with her best 'Innocent, dumb, and
yet strangely believable idiot' face and batted her eyes. "No, no,
mistress must dress appropriately! Please, foot up." She declared,
utilising the most outrageous Asian accent she could muster, all she
knew, she learnt from Jackie Chan. However, she still hadn't been
able to master that whole 'fight off fifteen martial arts guys all
at the same time with the use of only one toothpick and coming out
looking like roses' thing as of yet...but she was getting there.
McLeod picked up the embroidered blue dress and held it out
invitingly. "Mistress, please put on?" She tried, only barely
managing to cover up her Scottish drawl, making her question sound
more like a cow being pulled through a test tube. "Mistress, please
Ah well, hopefully she hadn't noticed anyway...
Agent Shoe attached the garishly glittering head piece to the now
incredibly embarrassed Captain's head and smiled stupidly. This was
perfect!! The Captain's ensemble would knock the guys over
immediately! Long live the 'ship, she told herself mentally, may
it's sappy happiness blossom and grow.
"Alright mate. You ready to go."
Thwack! Annie issued Marian a swift kick to the shins, causing her
to yelp and then start coughing in an attempt to cover it up. Oh,
Carter frowned...did the servant girl just call her 'mate'? She
glared at the women suspiciously as one of them kicked the other,
causing her to start coughing violently. Hmm...
The sound of her team mate's footsteps thudding into the soft earth
caused her to panic slightly. She couldn't let them see her in
this! She spun around as best as she could (with no thanks to the
hideous blue dress) and made a grab for her uniform. There was no
way in hell her team was going to see her wearing a dress...or
whatever the hell it was!
McLeod sensed the Captain's sudden panic and made a grab for her
uniform before she could get to it. "We goo noe." She said
hastily, wincing as her Asian accent got hacked to pieces with her
Annie grabbed Marian and yoinked her out of the back tent flap
before the Captain could offer any more protest, taking with them
Captain Carter's military clothes.
Inside Other Tent
1030 h EST
Daniel, Jack and Teal'c stopped short and stared at the sight that
beheld them. Holy smokes. Hooboy! Chel'nak!
Captain Carter glared at them, piercing each of them, especially
Daniel with an evil death glare.
"Daniel, find me an anthropologist who dresses like this and I will
eat this headdress."
Any retort that Daniel would have made (although, with the distance
that his jaw was making from the ground, it didn't appear that he'd
be able to) was cut short by the annoying presence that was
Shaimou's son Abu.
"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He warbled,
practically lubricating the floor in an ocean of drool before
wetting his pants and running out of the room.
"Guess the kid doesn't get out much. Look, ah, I will not wear this thing over my face. I do not care how much embroidery it has on it. And this dress, or whatever it's called, I mean I can't move, I can't walk..."
Colonel O'Neill valiantly fought back the torrent of testosterone that seemed intent on heading due south. 'Heaps of dresses before, seen heaps of dresses...lots and lots...with skirts and legs and skin and...' He quickly cut short his attempt at taking his mind off the situation, opting instead for some choice words of wisdom. "I don't know. It...it kinda works for me. I..." Well okay, maybe not...but you couldn't blame a guy for trying!
Daniel, similarly mentally incapacitated, fought heroically not to think about just how sexy a certain medical officer would look in that very same dress...perhaps he could borrow it off Sam sometime after she'd gotten over her sudden desire to kill him...The flustering Archaeologist offered up the only thing that he could think of, hopeing that it would appease her wrath. "It's you. It's...it's..."
Daniel's sinking ass was swiftly recovered by a blazing comeback from O'Neill. "It's you."
Ah well, you couldn't expect to win all of them. Daniel gritted his teeth and dug himself in deeper. Here went nothing. "It's definitely you. Ah, the good news is, uh, you were right. One of Abu's plants works as an...an anesthetic. We're taking...some...home...to be analyzed."
Oh, good, perfect. Nice save Doctor Jackson! Daniel thought triumphantly as the Captain's icy gaze softened. Phew! The attitude they were getting from her right now could have overwhelmed a room full of PMS-incited women in a second!
Nevertheless, the boys started backing away, the Captain's blue eyes still looking decidedly less than happy.
"All things considered...Samantha..." Said O'Neill, putting in a last-dtch attempt to salvage their situation, "If we have to come back here it might be a better idea if we brought an all male team next time. No offense. Aaaaaaack!"
Okay, evidently Captain Carter took offense to being referred to as 'Samantha' mused Colonel O'Neill as he slowly lost oxygen due to the grip of death hand hold she had placed around his neck. Now, while autoerotic asphyxiation could be fun, this wasn't quite the way that he'd invisaged being able to get it on with his very pretty...very intelligent...and extremely pissed off 2IC.
Snarking evilly at the Colonel, Carter released her hold upon his neck. "Well, in view of the fact that you all get to go to this party tonight and I get to stay in this yurt that smells like rancid yak butter, none taken." She was pissed. Mightily. However, if she looked at it her way, perhaps the natives could get Jack drunk enough to...hmmm yes well, probably best not to go there ey?
Behind a DIY DSA Bush
Beside The Other Tent
2257 h EST
The Shavadai party partied on in a manly type of way well into the night, as the two DSA Agents crouched stealthily behind yet another of their Do-It-Yourself DSA Issued Port-a-Bushes.
"You take first watch."
"No! You take first!"
"Why the hell should I? I took first watch last time."
"*And* You fell asleep."
"See? All the more reason for you to go first. I'm suffering from fatigue."
Agent Shoe promptly fell asleep on McLeod's shoulder, drooling gently upon her green fatigues.
Damn! McLeod thought. I just got jibbed! Shrugging the other Agent's sleeping head off her shoulder, Annie listened with some satisfaction as the Australian hit the grass with a muffled thud. She watched the party with pissed - off interest and sighed. The Colonel was sure taking a long time to pass out tonight. At this rate it would be morning again before she could get the next stage of the plan into flight.
The sneaking, evil black shadow of the ARAA's most finest tiptoed like tinkerbell through the shadows of tents and across to where the DSA Agents sat, obliviously waiting upon the grass. Fools! Did they really think that he would again fall for their plan? Never! Now, turnabout was fair play, it was *his* turn to have them fooled! Fools!
He pulled out a long hollow tube from his trusty bag of Evil Plot Devices and inserted into it a poisoned arrow. He held the tube to his thin red lips and breathed in deeply through his nose (after several unfortunate events of trial and error, the ARAA technicians had decided that this was the best method of deployment) and blew out through his mouth into the tube, sending the little poisoned arrow through the air like a sixth-graders spitball going into flight.
Annie gasped as she felt a needle-sharp pain in the back of her neck. Damn! Why was it that every planet they went to always managed to have mosquitoes? She pulled the offending insect away with her hand, realising with ominous dread that it wasn't a mosquito...her vision swam...but a poison ARAA Issue Knockout Arrow.
Underneath A DIY DSA Bush
Beside The Other Tent
The Next Day
1000 h EST
The sun shone, the bird-things twittered, and two unconscious DSA Agents slumbered obliviously underneath the morning sun.
"Doctor, we're about ready to go. Doctor, we're about ready to....No..."
Daniel's worried voice shattered the dreams of tailored black pantsuits and comfortable shoes that were dancing through Marian's head ohhhh man, it felt like she had been run over by a Northern Territory Road Train and then bounced upon by a mob of excited kangaroos.
She sat up and tried to shake McLeod awake.
"Ten bottles of beer mrrrghh..." Slurred the drowsy agent, who unfortunately wouldn't wake.
Daniel came running out of the tent like a madman. "Jack! Jack! Sam's gone!"
Marian gasped, and tried again frantically to wake up her partner. "C'mon mate, wake up! The ARAA have taken Carter!"
"Janet n Daniel sittin' in a treee..."
Buggerit! Shoe grumbled, figuring that the delusional Agent must have been drugged. She hoisted McLeod up over her shoulder and lugged her as covertly as possible onto the back of a horse and tied her down, returning to their DIY bush to recover their backpacks.
In the background the remainder of SG-1 were running frantically in and out of the yurt. Shoe could vaguely make out Jack threatening to rain down firey vengeance on the Shavadi. She smiled. That was good. Well, in a way. Well, not *good* exactly, but it showed his protective side. Sorta.
Throwing their backpacks onto the back of the horse, Shoe clambered on and promptly slid straight back off, sideways. Buggerit.
On the back of an Extremely Uncooperative Horse
1015 h EST
McLeod smiled dopily and waved at the ground as it hurtled by underneath. She must be flying...like...like Superman! She grinned. Bet Shoe wished she was flying. Vaguely aware that she should be doing something productive to keep herself in the air - like the well-trained, resourceful Agent she was - Annie spread her arms wide and flapped them as she sped onwards. That should do it.
She sighed happily. Perhaps a little light music to keep up her rhythm.........
"By yon bonnieeeeeeee baaaaaanks and by yon bonnieeeeee...somethin', where the somethin-somethin-somethin....ow'er Loch Loooooomond......."
At the front of an Extremely Uncooperative Horse
1020 h EST
Marian clenched her teeth. They'd been riding this bloody thing for twenty minutes and it hadn't *once* gone in the direction she'd asked it to. And she'd left her horse whip at home. Not that she'd ever actually used it on a *horse* before.
"Goooood boy, good horsie........"
Dammit, this had looked so easy in all those John Wayne films they'd had to watch before setting out for the USA! Now, her arms ached from yanking the reins and her arse was sore from bouncing up and down non-stop. And worse, her ears were taking a bashing from the incomprehensible ditties that perpetuated from her partner. She growled. And McLeod insisted she was the 'in-control' one. Hah! It wasn't fair... she was the one who was supposed to look good in BDU's and have nice, bouncy hair with plenty of volume. The only stallions she should be in intimate contact were most certainly not horses, and most often of more Italian persuasion. She sniffled. McLeod should be jockeying this thing while she was strapped to the back in cloud-cuckoo-land. It was the order of things.
Shoe stiffened as she heard voices in the distance. Pulling the reins, she swelled up with pride as the horse somewhat miraculously stopped short. She whipped around and jostled McLeod, causing her to forget the rest of the words to 'I belong to Glasgow'. Fortunately, the other Agent had regained enough of herself to quiet immediately at Shoes warning tone. "I hear something!"
McLeod smiled dazedly at her. Shoe sighed again. Their first mission, and she ended up in charge! That was a bad omen if ever there was one. "You stay here" she whispered, as though her partner could do anything else drugged to the eyeballs and tied to a horse. Annie nodded cheerfully.
Sliding off, Shoe crept towards the voices, breaking through the trees to emerge at the edge of another Mongol camp. And there, standing before a central tent was not an Agent of the ARAA, but the Cheiftainess' son Abu. Damn! The little sonofabitch must be on their payroll!
Shoe crept closer to listen, as Abu demanded to speak to Turghan, the tribe's leader, and snuck all the way up to the tent's entrance as he was led inside. Extracting her handy DSA Eavesdropper/Wine glass (tm) she pressed it to the tent, and listened carefully.
"See the son of my enemy, how he pales in my presence! You risk your head coming here. For what? You think this interests me?"
Shoe grimaced. Great, a raving ego-maniac. Juuust what they needed. She peeked inside, in time to see Abu rip the cloth from Sam's face to show her to Turghan. She noted with some satisfaction the surprise and lust on the Mongol's expression. Weren't expecting that now, were you mate?
"Your skin is very fair. Look at me! Her eyes are the colour of blue riverstones." he drooled.
"Name your price." Shoe scowled again. Shit. She watched in growing fascination as Abu refused all of Turghan's generous offers, and eventually asked for one thing only. The Chief's daughter. So that was his motive....not Anti-Ship combat after all. It would have been sweet if she weren't filled with murderous rage at the screw up he'd caused them. Shoe turned away quietly. She didn't have to watch to know how this would turn out. As Turghan's voice bellowed from inside the tent, she crept to a safer distance, and listened to him tell of his daughter's impending marriage to a local warlord. She watched Abu come out dejected, carrying a bag of what she assumed were coins, climb onto his horse, and ride away. Suddenly, a loud slap rang out from inside the tent and Shoe winced. OU-ch. No need to guess who's mouth had just got her into trouble. Americans... Honestly.
Filled with a new determination, Shoe crept in her Stealth-Class-101 trained manner to a gap in the curtains surrounding the women's quarter of the camp and using her extractable Resourcefulness-Hook-and-Claw-Gripper snagged a couple of daggy brown robes from the camp. That settled it, they were goin' in.
She bundled the clothes under one arm and bolted back to the spot where she'd left Annie and the Horse, and duly encountered another slight problem.
They were gone.
Still On the back of an Extremely Uncooperative Horse
1030 h EST
Annie McLeod watched with a growing sense of dubiousness as the ground went by. She'd stopped flapping her arms a few minutes ago, and couldn't help but feel that this flying thing might not be all it was cracked up to be. Raising her head slightly, she was surprised to encounter what looked like horse-hair. She was further surprised to find that she was entirely unable to move for ropes binding her to aforementioned horse-hairy surface. McLeod bit her lip thoughtfully as the ARAA drugs began to clear out of her system.
She was tied to a horse.
A galloping horse.
A galloping horse with no rider.
Middle of the Forest
The evil ARAA agent clapped his hands gleefully as he skipped through the forest like Red Riding Hood on a bad acid trip. He crumpled up the paper bag he had recently burst to shy the horse, and threw it away. Might as well start a little litter revolution while he was here. He twirled a little, then stopped, checking around to make sure no-one had seen him. Confidently assured that no-one but a nearby squirrel had observed his outward display of joy, he conscientiously vapourised it with his Man-Who-Knew-Too-Much-Laser (c) and continued on his way.
It was time he had a little talk with some of the Tugai warriors, about the ways of foreign women....
Again with the Horse
1035 h EST
Panic, Annie McLeod thought calmly, was not in her nature. Which was really very fortunate, or right now she would *really* be in trouble. Reaching her arms behind her and fiddling with the knots binding her ropes, she simultaneously cursed Shoe for being such a lazy, argumentative, Australian twit who couldn't stay awake long if she were parachuting out of a jumbo jet and thanked her for being such a considerate knot tie-er, therefore making it relatively easy for Annie to break her bonds and swing up on the back of the horse with a flexibility that would have impressed the author of the Kama-Sutra. Unfortunately, it was a talent McLeod only ever used for gymnastic purposes, which she knew Marian felt was one of the great Universal wastes.
Yanking hard on the horse's reins with an authority that left no question as to who was taking who for a ride here, Annie slowed the thundering animal to a more respectable walking pace. Finding a nearby river, she began to follow it upstream. She had no idea where this would lead, or in what direction 'up-stream' was, but they did it all the time in films so it must work somehow.
A rustling in the undergrowth caused the DSA Agent to slow the steed down. "Wooah there boy."
The horse kept moving. "Damnit, I said wooooah!"
Trot trot trot.
Sighing, McLeod reached into the hastily attached saddle bags and pulled out her F-88. "Fine then, have it your way." And shot the horse in the head.
1056 h EST
Special Agent Shoe sat in a corner and twiddled her fingers. It was all going wrong. All of it. Everything. This was not good at all, it was very very bad. She swore that she would kill the next ARAA Agent that she saw, slowly and painfully, preferably with the use of a very blunt and very sturdy plastic spoon.
Sighing worriedly, Marian counted off the events that had evilly and anti-shipperffically turned against her. First of all there was the Chieftain's dimwit son Abu. She should have *known* that the silly fool would kidnap Carter for his own good. Bugger love, his actions were just plain *inconvenient*.
Secondly, there was the annoyingly obvious fact that this stupid oaf Turgin was going to take Carter, which was a *bad* thing, to say the least! The Boss Person was going to be mightily pissed...hell, He or She may even take away her weekend leave...which would also be a bad thing...she had a hot date planned with random Joe...
Then, any hope that she may have had for rescuing Carter had been dashed
after the damned woman (she meant that in a nice way, of course) tried to make a run for it and was recaptured by Turghan's men, resulting in the almost-beating of several of Turghan's women. Marian pouted. Things would have gone much better if McLeod were around to take control, she was just the amusing sidekick. It wasn't her place to execute the plan. Hell, she didn't even *have* a plan now, the file folder was still inside the other Agent's backpack.
What the hell was she going to do now...
The Corpse of an Uncooperative Ex-Horse
1100 h EST
McLeod's combat boots crunched over the sandy riverbank as she strode in a stealth-like manner towards the source of the sound. She pushed her way through the trees and came to a halt. McLeod unclipped the Porta-Bush and gave it a flick, causing it to unfurl in a flurry of branches and leaves, each one managing to somehow hit her in the face.
"Damnit...stupid spring mechanism!"
Crouching down, Annie peered through the branches to a very familiar looking camp...although it was a little hard to tell at the time, it looked like the one she had been circling in a holding pattern when she'd had the ability to fly.
Familiar voices wafted on the forest breeze to her listening ears.
"How can you defend him, he's packing you off to marry a total stranger."
Ah, that was their missing Captain alright. Another, less familiar voice replied timidly.
"I have no choice, I am not free to choose."
Using her DSA - Style 'Leopard Crawl', Agent McLeod made her way on all fours (in a manner that would make even Agent Shoe proud) to the curtained off area of the camp and peeked between the grey rug walls. The Agent's missing Captain was sitting by a small fire hacking into a plate of mangled vegetables and talking to a timid looking grey-eyed girl.
"And you never will be until one of you says no!"
The girl smiled, her eyes glittering with what could only be described as hope. Awwwwwwww, well wasn't *that* sweet. "I want to say it, will you help me?"
The Captain nodded and shook the girl's slender hand. McLeod frowned...this could be trouble.
Outskirts of Tugai Camp
1102 h EST
Four anxious campers and their horses stopped at the edge of the Tugai camp, cradling their weapons and scratching their balls. Well, at least one of them was anyway...
Colonel O'Neill rested his forearms on his rifle in what he hoped was a very roguish manner and looked around, scuffing his boots on the dirt trail in front of him.
Teal'c, using his amazing skills of Jaffa Warrior deduction, pointed towards the haphazard mess of carpets and string posing as a village and said "The tracks lead directly there."
The other men nodded their agreement, yes, yes, after close observation of the dirt track and the numerous signs saying 'Tugai Camp, This Way', it did indeed look as if the path was some sort of trail towards the calmly existing village.
"So," Said Jack, as he turned to address the Shavadai Chieftain, who looked disturbingly cute and cuddly atop his elegant horse, "Who owns the place?"
Mughal's face screwed up as if he had just sucked deeply upon a lemon and said ominously, "An enemy. A man who kills for pleasure..." The cuddly-looking chieftain paused for effect, wallowing in the suspense he had created in his attentive audience and added; "This is very bad."
Behind a cluster of BettyCrocker's (tm) Poison Ivy leaves crouched the menacing shadow of the ARAA's finest Singed Special Agent. He cackled to himself as the chieftain spoke to the leader of the SG-1 team. His beady black eyes shone, 'very' and 'bad' were his two favourite words. Muahahahaha, wuahahaha, wuahahaha haha ahaha ha haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...
Inside Tugai Camp
1610 h EST
Agent McLeod leopard-crawled her way into the camp and tried to blend into the background by looking like a teapot, as prescribed in the DSA's Standard Operational Procedures Manual, DI(DSA)AAP 5656.007 chapter 3, paragraph6, line 5.5. After garnering several odd looks from passing Tugai women, the cleverly disguised agent decided that perhaps posing as an innocent teapot was not as clever as she had previously thought and tried to adopt a different pose.
"Annie...is that you?" Asked the familiar voice of Agent Shoe, well, at least it *sounded* like Shoe, but the attire was entirely un-Marian-like. "And what if it is?" Annie questioned suspiciously, eyeing the potential DSA Agent with distrust.
The Could-Be-Marian beamed and handed her partner a bundle of rags. "McLeod, thank god you're here. Put these on, they work much better than the teapot disguise. I'd tell you how much I've stuffed up the mission so far, but then I'd have to kill you."
Agent McLeod accepted the rags and put them on, agreeing that they made a much better disguise than the DSA's traditional teapot pose. "What the hell happened?" She questioned, "I woke up on the back of a horse galloping like all bloody hell up a river. How long have you been in here?"
"You got drugged and Captain Carter got kidnapped. I strapped you onto the back of a horse and followed Carter's trail to this camp. I haven't been able to rectify the situation yet because the mission plans were in the saddlebags...Speaking of which, do you still have our horse?"
McLeod cringed. "Uhh, I had to kill it..."
"Well I heard something in the bushes and the damned thing wouldn't stop so..."
"You shot it."
The Scottish Agent nodded her head, shrugging her shoulders casually. "All in a day's work really. Now, about this Mission Plan, how much do we have to salvage?"
Back at the Outskirts again
1617 h EST
..."This is very bad."
Icicles of terror stabbed their terrifying way into every SG member's heart. Very and Bad were not words that they liked to hear.
Jack stood up and straightened his camouflage-green cap over his salt and pepper brown hair...which was admittedly more salt than pepper these days, but still, he knew that he looked damned fine. "Well then we will go and get her tonight."
Mughal, still not willing to give up his little tirade on all things 'Very' and 'Bad', sat on his stump and said in a dubious voice, "If we attack, there will be war. Turghan is allied with 22
clans. When he fights, he takes no prisoners."
Collective gasps sounded from the seated members of the team. Daniel's blue eyes went wide "You mean they'd kill all of you?"
"Yes. If you will wait until morning, I will go, and request a trade, he cannot refuse."
The cute 'n' cuddly Chieftain wheezed in a Godfatherly -like way and squinted his ebony black eyes. The tension in the air was severed swiftly by the deep, hypnotic voice of Teal'c the Jaffa.
"But what will happen to Dr. Carter tonight if we wait."
"Turghan will partake in his newest purchase."
A surge of protectiveness surged through O'Neill's veins, "Oh, there's not a chance in hell."
"In our land," Translated Daniel, "if a man wants a woman, she can say no."
Bugger , Mughal thought. Why weren't these people going along with his Very Bad spiel? Ah well, here went one last shot. "No one refuses Turghan, and lives."
"Then we go now."
Inside Turghan's Yurt
1630 h EST
"So anyways, if you don't give us back our leader, we'll kick your arse to next Monday."
Turghan eyed the two foreign women closely, unsure if they were part of some elaborate birthday present or not. Perhaps, he thought, they would whip out their bells and start dancing if he waited long enough.
"For what price do you wish to purchase this woman, Samantha?"
McLeod glanced at Shoe. Purchase? Purchase was bad. Everything they had that was tradable was also *highly* classified, and she doubted The Boss Person would be happy if He or She found out that the Tugai were the proud new owners of a DSA issue collapsible black bicycle / Suitcase
Shoe bit her lip, and delved into the pocket of her uncomfortable fake-BDU's, retrieving a leather wallet (black, naturally). "I can give yooooouu...." she began in a sing-song voice, tipping the contents of the wallet into her right hand, " 120 Australian dollars, 10 pounds Sterling, an electronic library card, a picture of Richard Gere and a mint humbug that I swear hasn't been in there for much over a year." She rummaged around a little more. "...Oh, and an economy pack of mixed condoms. I hear they make great drum covers with them out here..."
Sensing that no bells were going to be forthcoming in his immediate future, Turghan snarled. Shoe smiled nervously.
"And some lint?" she added hopefully.
McLeod stepped forward, with a polished, well-trained, second-hand-car-salesman grin. "Would you consider a trade " she lilted." One woman for another?" she shimmied forward suggestively. Shoe raised a quasi-impressed eyebrow. Turghan leaned forward with a little more interest." A tall, slim brunette, well versed in many ...techniques...."
Turghan tilted his head. " I may be..."
"Good." McLeod said brightly. "Give me Carter and the Aussie's all yours."
"Wha?! Wait a bloody minute, mate........." Fortunately, Shoe was spared from further protest, as a voice from outside was heard crying "Wait!", and in the camp all hell broke loose.
Outside Turghan's Yurt
A roaring cacophony engulfed the previously serene Warlord's campsite. Men rushed like chickens left and right jumping and hollering and waving their arms at a burning rug-wall in the misled belief that their efforts would help in putting the blaze out. Amongst the fray the DSA Agents saw a brown robed figure making a dash for the forest as another group of armed men wandered casually towards Turghan's Yurt.
"Bugger! Bugger, bugger, bugger." Whispered Marian, "that's SG-1."
The two Agents scurried back into the tent and dived under some conveniently placed rags, much to the confusion of the Tugai Chieftain. "We're being chairs." Stated one of the woman-lumps, and offered no further explanation.
Turghan turned to the opening in the tent flaps, "Who is there?"
He tilted his head in confusion. "Jack O'Neill who?"
The speaker reveled his presence by swaggering casually into the Yurt followed by two other strangely dressed men with large, useless looking black things and incredibly overburdened packs. Did not these people know of horses? They must be barbarians from a far distant land.
Their apparent leader held out a gloved hand. "Jack O'Neill SG-1, these are my companions Daniel, and Teal'c." He paused, and waited as a cute and cuddly looking chieftain whom he knew as Mughal made his timid way into the yurt, "And Mughal."
Turghan stared at the outstretched hand, perhaps the man's arm was cramped. "Sit." He commanded. The foreigners sat, two of them taking places upon the unsuspecting women-lumps, causing one of them to let out an 'oomph!' followed by a hissing noise comparable to that of a rapidly deflating tyre. "What is it that dares you to set foot in my camp foreigners?" Turghan husked, making sure that he looked as mean and as nasty as possible.
"We're here to reclaim what is rightfully ours." Jack stated, "The woman you bought this morning, she is mine."
This caused some astonished glances from the members of the Colonel's team. What?
"I paid 300 weights of gold for that woman." This was strange, already two people had asked for the possession of his newly acquired woman, with eyes as blue as lapis lazuli...or was that as blue as the sea of Ogada... No matter, She appeared to be in high demand, and this only strengthened the chieftain's resolve to keep her.
"Is that a lot?"
'Well...duh!' Hissed one of the chairs sarcastically. 'Marian!'
"Did you hear something?"
Turghan leant forward on his chair and scratched his stubbly chin with a large, meaty hand. "Enough to buy ten women." Indeed, for 300 weights of gold, he could also buy five Yaks, seven chickens, twelve lobsters and a chopping board...but that was totally beyond the point.
The cute and cuddly Shavadi chieftain puffed his cheeks out gorgeously. "We will offer you 350."
"She is difficult, but beautiful. A rare prize." Turghan gushed, noticing how the grey-haired Colonel huffed machoistically.
'Is there an echo in here?' Murmured a cushion.
Turghan grinned, "I may even take her as a wife..."
The conversation continued thusly until the two groups were at an impasse, and the two Agents posing as couches were well on their way to long-term spinal injury.
Just as Turghan prepared to unceremoniously drop kick the bartering foreigners back to the Steppes from whence they came, Colonel O'Neill had a flash of inspiration and whipped out his sidearm.
Oooooh, impressive...and for a man of such age!
Turghan leapt up from his chair in surprise so fast that his shoes were left behind. The Colonel handed the weapon over. The deal was done....and done!
2036 h EST
"What a relief! I have never been so happy to see you guys!"
Marian grinned, nudging her partner as they kept watch upon the reunited SG team.
"Oh sure you have." Said Jack, grinning lecherously at his hard won Captain, "Remember that time on P3X 595, when you drank that stuff that made you take off your..."
Annie rose her eyebrows, perhaps that file would be worth investigating...
"We won't get into that now." Sam cut in quickly, memories of drunken dancing and interesting clinches with a certain Colonel springing vibrantly to mind. She turned to the cute and cuddly chieftain. "Mughal, I want to thank you for
The fuzzy man simply nodded sagely. "We will leave at first light."
"I don't blame you for what Abu did, I don't blame him either, now."
Mughal took a cute sip of his herbal old person tea, "He is suffering the madness, as I did when I was young."
The Captain's brows furrowed in confusion, luckily, Daniel jumped in with a goofy look upon his face. "It's what they call love."
Sam nodded, not noticing Daniel's sudden shift into 'In Love with Doctor Fraiser, Sha'uri and several other women Land. "Ah, got it."
0600 h EST
The sun shone, the bird things chirped, and a set of uncooperative horse's hooves thundered incessantly.
"Aw crap...I thought I killed that thing..." McLeod grumbled as she roused herself from her dreamless sleep. She sat up and nudged at Shoe, who was presently drooling contentedly all over her makeshift pillow - a DSA Issued Porta-Cat. (Don't ask why...)
"Mmm...five more minutes mum." Moaned the Australian, before returning to her task of drooling.
McLeod rolled her eyes, picking up her weapon. "Right. Marian, if you don't wake up right *now* I am going to shoot you."
The other Agent flew awake, eyes wide and ready to go.
McLeod grinned, that method always worked.
"What? What's happening?"
Annie reached into her pack and whipped out the binoculars, raising them to see. She then emptied one side of the equipment of all traces of 30 year old Single Malt Glenmorangie, and raised them again.
"What?" Shoe whined.
McLeod handed her the binoculars. "He's back...."
"Please, you must help me!" Abu bounced up and down on the back of his horse for urgent-situation emphasis. Sam stepped forward.
Behind a nearby tree, a voice hissed...
"Which yin's Nya?"
Abu gestured frantically :"She came to me, just like the wind said she would. But before
we could make our way her father caught us. Now if you do not help
me, she will be stoned to death. Curse me for the madness, better to
have left her to marry Chimakka."
:Mughal shook his head. "I would not see anything I cared for go to Chimakka."
"Which yin's Chimakka?"
"I thought that was Turghan?"
"*Other* evil warlord....shhhh!
Jack looked appalled. "Can I get a little clarification here? Her own father ordered her stoned to death, is that right"
"Because she broke the law of the land." Abu replied.
"Turghan is compelled to uphold the law, even more if it applies to his own. He must rule by example."
"Are you writing this down? This could be important."
"We have to go back, now!" Sam riled, furious.
"Negative." Jack answered firmly
"She can't be more then 16 or 17!"
"Captain, if we go in there and try to get that little girl out, we could be starting a war
"Since when are you a politician, Colonel?!"
"The little bugger's doing it again!"
"Look....he's caused an argument! He's undoing all the wonderful bonding we saw last night!"
"This could get ugly."
"For them or us? Wait 'till the Boss finds out they argued on our first assignment!"
"I -- shhhh! Shut up!"
Danny eyed a nearby tree cautiously. It seemed to be arguing...with another tree? He sidled a little nearer. An.....Australian tree? He peered at it. The shrubbery on this planet seemed to be acting very peculiar. He reached out to touch some of its leaves, and heard a brief scuffle., before a branch shot out to poke him in the knee. He yelped. Turning, he was a bout to broach the subject with Jack (" The tree just hit me because its getting upset by you arguing...") when the ears under his adorably-floppy (tm) hair heard words that appealed to his easily distracted consciousness.
"That's our world, this is theirs."
Danny jumped in gleefully. "Do we have the right to interfere with their customs or
reinterpret their laws?"
Sam was apoplectic "Maybe you guy aren't getting this, but they're about to kill this teenage girl! Simply because she fell in love with this boy!"
"If her blood pressure does for her, we can't get blamed for that, right?"
The Agent's listened intently as SG-1, Abu and the cuddly chieftain argued some more about going to rescue Nya. Shoe sighed.
"I wish they'd hurry up and decide."
Danny, spurred on by the Australian Tree's impatience, piped up: "Wait. Now there has to be another way. Mughal, what about the old laws? Isn't there something that we can.
"Yes, yes! If we fight with law, Turghan cannot make war! Father, please, think, remember, there must be a law."
: "There is one."
Daniel smiled. The tree would be appeased.
The ARAA's finest sat in the middle of a dirt circle, absentmindedly watching warriors scuttle back and forth, hanging up decorations. He smiled. He'd persuaded one of the horsemen to organise a fete....it had obviously been a long time since the village's last stoning, and they should make the most of it. He carefully added the last large jagged rock to his scale-model of ARAA HQ, and straightened up some little surrounding rock-pyramids. Retrieving his notepad, with the ARAA watermark carefully printed upon the stationary, he wrote a simple message...
"Rocks. 1 silver weight each."
...then sighed happily, got up and dusted himself off. All was well.
All was not well.
The ARAA agent growled. It had all been going so beautifully. He'd made some spare cash, the stoning was going as planned, many people were in emotional pain...Turghan had shouted "Stone her!" and then.....
Mughal trundled into the camp, followed by SG-1, as the men dropped their stones and drew their swords.
"You have no say here, Shavadai." Turghan snarled
"Stoning may be challenged. By another chieftain." Abu cried enthusiastically
"There is no such law."
"There is. In the song of Arkhan-tyr, the spirits will strengthen the hand of the just." Mughal replied.
"I will not fight a cripple."
From their new position just inside the curtains of the women's quarter in the village, the DSA Agents cringed. It was like watching Winnie the Pooh go up against Godzilla.
"This is *not* good."
""Now what's he saying?"
Turghan shook his head in disgust. "You insult my honor by implying that I would engage in such a slaughter. You will lose and my daughter will still die. So unless there is another chieftain who will challenge my decision..."
Sam stepped up "I challenge it."
"You? You plague me!"
"Then fight, here's your chance to shut me up once and for all!"
"I will abide by the wisdom of the spirits. Let them decide justly."
Shoe turned to McLeod. "Now what?" she hissed. It was unbelievable that their first mission could get *this* screwed up. But, she consoled herself, McLeod was wise, and calm, and good at getting Shoe out of the trouble that Shoe could so expertly get herself into. McLeod had poise. McLeod had answers. McLeod had a sheet of paper and was scribbling on it..
"Um...mate? What are you doing?"
"Writing a letter of resignation to the DSA."
Shoe's eyes widened, and she shook her head in alarm. "Jesus, Annie! I know things look bad, but we'll get out of it! You can just *resign!*"
McLeod looked up at Shoe throuh narrowed eyes, as the sun passed behind a convenient cloud and the world muted into shades of Grey; containing only the whisper of the breeze and the dangerously slow unfurling of Agent McLeod's smile.
"Oh....it's not for *me*....."
Hastily Contructed Fighting Ring
Colonel O'Neill scratched at the back of his neck, one hand on his gun and trying to look cool, calm and collected. It wasn't working. First of all, calm had gone out the window the moment Sam had volunteered to take Turghan on in a fight to the death (remind Daniel to give him a swift kick in the groin the next time he let the Captain do anything like that again), then, the Turghanmeister had gone and whipped out a bigass knife with nasty sharp pointy sides. Carter was unarmed, save for a USAF- issue Mark III survival knife. (Which, for comparison's sake, came up as a plastic butter knife with broken edges against a Hursqvana(tm) Chainsaw). There went collected flying out the window.
The clouds passed at ominous intervals across the sky, blocking out the sunshine in well timed ripples. O'Neill watched as his 2IC circled alongside the Turghanmeister, pissy little combat knife held at the ready, both of them with their arms up and butts out like two people trying (and failing) to dance the tango. He had to admit, however, that Carter did have a really nice ass...Oops! There went cool.
Amongst the Crowd
Disguised as Trees
0803 h EST
Marian wrung her hands together, flicking twigs and leaves in a circular pattern on the grass. "Oh dear oh dear oh dear!" She worried, sounding rather unfortunately like piglet confronting the Heffalump.
Agent McLeod heffed...uh, huffed even, and folded her branches over her trunk, shaking her bows disapprovingly. The Scottish Agent shot a barky glare. This was, definitely and surely, All Her Fault.
Things had gone from tragic to horrendous. ...And now they were going from horrendous to plain catastrophic. Turghan swung his knife which bordered on big honkin' machete in Captain Carter's general direction, making the crowd 'Ooh!' and ''Aah!'' in morbid excitement.
In a flash of tumbling blonde and forest-green, the Captain stop, drop and rolled out of harm's way, eliciting raucous rounds of applause from the delighted crowd. Someone had set up a yak-horn stand (the Tugai equivalent of a microphone) and one of the villagers was enthusiastically commentating the progress of the fight.
" ...We're well into the first three minutes of the Turghan/ Carter fight and it's a close match as the Great Beneviolent..Benevolent Chieftain Turghan consistently begins to beat the shit out of the Foreign and Furious Captain Carter. Now ladies and gentlemen and poorly disguised trees, hold your breaths as the Mighty Turghanmeister executes a three-point turn and jump kick stab into the woman's side. Oh, and he misses!!
This must be a very disappointing development for our glorious chief-man as the foreign woman jumps back up off the ground and commences to kick his ass into a messy mush of oblivion! Just look at her go!
And we're getting some rather concerned looks from some of the spectators here, indeed things are looking a little tense right now. We've got the Turghanmeister swinging his sword like a man possessed and trees Carter advancing bravely towards him with her two-inch butter knife. Yes, it looks like we're all in for one hell of a fight off ladies and gents! The games have only just begun!
Oooh! And that was just one mighty fine blow to the stomach delivered by the Fiery Captain Carter there! Turghan looks like he's going down, he's met his match, he's lost his bottle he's...he's getting up again! Heavens above girls and boys, the Turghanmeister is taking a licking, but yea gods! He just keeps on tickin'!
Just like a Rolex.
And now the slightly injured and profusely bleeding Turg-Man is advancing towards Captain Carter with deadly force, ooh, I'm just about pissing my jodhpurs in excitement! Oh, and she's down! Captain Carter has fallen over and she can't get up! The Turg-man has caused her to whack her head down hard against a conveniently placed log and now the TurgMan is moving in with a Huan-Cheng Killshot! Is this the end of Captain Carter my friends? Is this going to be the tragic, terrible, horrific and somewhat gory end!?
Oh! And he's missed again! The Turghmeister has missed his target once again, the Fast and Furious Captain Carter has executed yet another of her well timed USAF standard stop-drop and rolls to the side and the Turghmeister's blade has come down hard into the conveniently placed peice of wood!
And she's up! Right leg coming around in a Swift Kick to the arse! Yes! She's got him down like a dead dog, the TurgMan is well and truly biting the dust! Now that's emancipation and women's rights for you! She's got her butter knife to his neck, this looks like the end of the Turghmeister ladies, gentlemen and poorly disguised trees! This looks like the end!..."
ARAA Rock Stall
0815 h EST
The Evil ARAA Agent swept his carefully constructed rock pyramids off the table in a fit of rage. And shook his hand in pain. Note to self: Rocks Are Hard.
Why? Why why why why why why!!!???
How did those blasted DSA Agents *always* manage to get the better of his Evil Twisted Plans? WHY? It wasn't supposed to happen this way! The Tugai Chieftain was supposed to win the fight and defeat the 'Ship forevermore! Life was not FAIR!
He pouted and kicked the crap out of his carefully constructed table. Those DSA Agents were Evil. Every single one of them! They all deserved to DIE!
...Ooh...now there was a plan..
1430 h EST
Marian sighed, smiling happily as she and Agent McLeod packed their equipment back into their DSA-issued USAF Lookalike bags.
In the near distance, SG-1 stood, happily reunited after Captain Carter's minor crusade of Emancipation, smiling happily and talking with the cute and cuddly Chieftain.
"You will not stay for the wedding?"
O'Neill cast a glance at his Really Groovy Velcro Watch and sighed. "Ah, well, y'know...a six-day wedding?...We really should get back..."
Daniel nodded eagerly, hopping from foot to foot in anticipation of setting eyes upon a certain gorgeous doctor once again.
"But it is a joyous time!" Snuffled the Chieftain's annoying lovestruck son. Next to him, his equally annoying girlfriend batted her doe-brown eyes and smiled smarmily. "Indeed, wont you stay?" She shoved forth a plate of home made Yak Cookies. "I made cookies! I also washed the dishes, cooked all seven of the meals, washed the clothes, ironed the carpets, paid the bills, vaccuumed the house...oh wait, no I didn't, i picked the lint off the floor with my teeth..." She shoved forth the plate again with a winning smile. "So, want some!?"
The members of SG-1 graciously declined, with Daniel chipping in his diplomatic two-cents. "But we all wish you and Nya many years of happiness, and many
sons too. Oof!"
The Archaeologist was cut short with a subtle elbow to his ribs from Sam. "And daughters!" He quickly added, before any further damage to his delicate abdominal muscles could be done.
As SG-1 turned and ambled off into the sunset the voice of the Cute and Cuddly Chieftain could be heard. "All Shavadi, be free!" With a great roar of feminist triumph, the carpets came down, spilling Shaved women forth into the village, all cheering and waving like cliched alien versions of the American Clap. It was beautiful.
Mughal the Cuddly, Chieftain of the Shavadai waved from a rock beside his dear wife Shaimou. "This is how you will be remembered, Carter." He said.
The DSA Agents smiled, ah, happy endings. These were the life.
0007 h EST
"...Oh Daniel! Yeah, oh...ah, yes, that's the spot, oh yes! Oh, Doctor Jackson, don't stop!..."
Captain Carter's Laboratory
0007 h EST
"Jack, quit it. I...ah...Oh! I can't concentrate when you do that...It's ooh...It's dis...unh...dist...oh yesssss...distr...Oh hell, get on the chair."
Security Surveillance Room
0007 h EST
Evil black eyes scowled at the sounds and sights emanating from the security screens. He couldn't believe it! Not one bit! Thank god the DSA Agents didn't know about this...otherwise their mission would be complete. Why was life so unfair! WHY!?
Deep in the dark depths of the Sleeping Mountain, the ARAA's finest evil agent, screamed.