DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
Well, they were inside the walls, but Sam wasn't sure by their reception that they were any safer inside than out. Their escort consisted of a half dozen men. Tall, strong, humorless - they looked more like bouncers than guards. The locals were obviously taking no chances. The building they were taken to was built solidly, with no windows and only one door, which was locked securely behind them. As she struggled to gain control of her breathing, Sam quickly took stock of their surroundings. To say it was Spartan was probably an understatement. A single low bench encircled an open hearth in the center of the room. Two mats were positioned near the bench, directly opposite the door. And wood for a fire was stacked neatly near the hearth. But there was no fire, and no visible way to start one. There was a definite chill in the air, and Sam was grateful that they'd been allowed to retain custody of their jackets, and the equipment buried within. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm them.
"Major Carter, are you well?"
She nodded as she responded, delighted to know she could now do more than just gasp. "I'm fine, just a little chilly. You?"
"I am also well." Teal'c eyed their 'quarters' with a modicum of interest, as he chose wood to lay on the hearth. "These quarters do not appear to be designed for a long residence."
"I noticed. My guess is that either we'll be upgraded to the deluxe suite or we won't need accommodations at all come morning."
"That would appear to be the case."
"That was quite a run."
"Indeed." Teal'c paused, then ventured the question. "You saw what pursued us?"
Sam nodded in dismay as she recalled her only glance of the Redcaps. It had been a near thing. They'd made it past the gates just ahead of the last Euloean in the party, and she managed to catch a brief glimpse of those ... beasts ... before the gates slammed shut. Two things stood out in the moonlight ... these creatures were at least nine feet tall and the hair on their heads was red. Very, very red.
"Yes. Ugly, very ugly."
"And lethal. The people of this world must have angered the System Lords greatly for them to unleash the Kul-Da-Poir."
Sam shuddered. "They looked positively ... you know what they are?"
It was Teal'c's turn to nod. "The Kul-Da-Poir are reputed to be a myth."
"Some myth."
"Indeed."
She waited for a full minute before realizing the Jaffa was not going to elaborate on his own. Sighing in frustration at his reticence, she spoke up. "What can you tell me about them?"
"The legends say the Kul-Da-Poir point of origin is somewhere within the Goa'uld home system. That millennia ago, the Goa'uld and the Kul-Da-Poir did battle for control of that system."
"Let me guess, the Kul-Da-Poir lost."
"That is correct. Although superior physically to the natural state of the Goa'uld, the Goa'uld possessed the greater technological advantage."
"Their own or someone elses'?"
"The legends do not tell, Major Carter. Is it important?"
She sighed. "No, sorry, Teal'c. I'm just being petty. Go on with your story." She absently handed the Jaffa a lighter as she spoke.
"As you wish. There is not much more to relate. The war continued for many years, with the Kul-Da-Poir home world suffering much damage, but still they would not surrender. Finally, the Goa'uld unleashed a biological agent into the atmosphere of their enemy. The stories tell that within seven days two-thirds of the population had perished, and many more were ill. The Goa'uld were victorious."
"If I'm reading this scenario correctly, then the Kul--Da--Poir," Sam stumbled over the name, "were reduced intellectually to the monsters which pursued us?"
"That is correct. Once again the old tales reveal that the biological agent permanently altered their biochemistry, turning them into creatures of the night, driven only by hunger and a thirst for blood."
"So the Goa'uld unleashed them on this world. Great. But why not just annihilate the inhabitants? We've seen that before."
"Indeed. That would seem the most obvious course of action, but certain of the System Lords enjoy tormenting their victims before destroying them. Much as your Earth cats engage a mouse in hours of what the cat perceives as play, but to the mouse is slow torture, before striking the fatal blow. It is fortunate that we are behind walls."
"Holy Hannah!" Sam's eyes widened with horror. "Colonel O'Neill and Daniel are out there somewhere, and Daniel's hurt. Teal'c, do they stand a chance?"
As the fire sprang into life, Sam could plainly see that the Jaffa's expression was a mixture of contrition and concern. "Unless Colonel O'Neill can get Daniel Jackson to some safe haven, I do not believe they will survive the night."
Daniel eased away from the injured colonel, moving slowly so as not to wake him. He stretched briefly to reduce his stiffness, then stoked the fire, adding a few more pieces of wood as he did so. The night air held a slight chill, and Daniel once again found himself wishing there had been something other than basic hiking supplies in their packs.
The screams which filled the night caused Daniel to rise quickly and check the door ... again. There'd been nothing he could do about the hole over their heads, but he'd barricaded the door as best he could, jamming anything solid he could find into the slight opening near the hinges. He then braced the third table leg between a heavy piece of tile on the floor, and the odd looking doorknob. Satisfied it was as secure as he could make it, Daniel returned to the fire, relishing its warmth on his bare chest.
"Daniel?" To the younger man's delight, O'Neill's voice was stronger than it had been earlier.
He turned swiftly to face his friend and found intense brown eyes glaring at him. "Uh, Jack?"
"Where are your shirt, and jacket?"
"Covering you."
"Dan..."
"No, Jack, you needed the extra warmth."
"You're freezing. I can see the goosebumps from here. Put them back on."
"I'm fine. You're..."
"Getting pissed."
"I can see that, but you're in no condition to do anything about it."
Jack frowned. "Much as I hate to concede the point, you're right. But Daniel, you won't do me any good if you get sick, now will you? At least put the shirt back on."
Daniel opened his mouth to protest, and sneezed ... three times. "Uh, I see your point." He quickly retrieved the much debated shirt and relished its limited protection as he slipped into the sleeves.
"Better?"
"Yes, actually it does help."
"Nice to know I'm ... Jesus! Daniel, look out!" Jack's cry of alarm echoed in the cellar along with the dull thud of large feet hitting the dirt. As Daniel whirled toward the sound, Jack stared in helpless horror at the creature which had joined them in their prison.