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.
Daniel stumbled backwards as the creature lunged, long thin arms stretching wicked talons for the startled man's throat. He reached quickly for his sidearm, only to realize that he'd left it on the ground next to Jack. As his mind hurled derogatory epithets at his stupidity, he glanced around, looking desperately for a weapon ... any weapon.
Jack's morphine dulled senses wasted precious minutes trying to locate his handgun. Cursing loudly as he finally realized it was in his hand, he took aim, only to be blocked by Daniel. "Daniel, move!"
The young archaeologist threw himself to his right, hit the ground, and rolled almost gracefully to his feet again. A move which Jack would have admired, if only he'd seen it, but the injured man's attention was glued to the beast in the cellar. Even in the poor light of the fire, Jack could see the long incisors which jutted through the corners of the animal's mouth. And the red hair crowning its head like a lion's mane was far too close to blood red for Jack's liking.
The creature's animal instincts turned him toward Daniel's new location almost before the young man could rise. The rapidity of the movement caused Jack's aim to go astray, and his language to deteriorate badly. The sound of the gun echoed loudly in the cellar as the bullet impacted the far wall, momentarily distracting the beast, and allowing Daniel time to move two strides further from danger. But it also allowed the young man to accidentally place himself once more in Jack's line of fire.
"Dammit, Daniel! Move!" Jack's pain filled voice could barely be heard above the snarls and grunts coming from the animal.
"I'm moving, I'm moving!" Daniel gasped as he staggered away from his attacker. He was not fast enough to avoid the talons, and cringed inwardly as the cloth of his shirt shred from shoulder blade to waist. Twisting out of its grasp, he maneuvered his way toward the fire, leading the animal away from Jack.
A scream of rage filled the night as the nine-foot tall menace hurled itself across the space separating it from its prey. Daniel could not suppress his own scream as the heavy body took him to the ground.
The knock on the door did nothing to improve the mood of the man behind the desk. "Come!"
"I am sorry to disturb you, Tiamon, but High Councilor Vraxas asks that you join him for the evening meal."
"You mean he demands that I speak to him before the remaining councilors, Marne?"
The smaller man smiled. "I believe that could very well be the case."
"Always careful with your words, aren't you, Marne?"
"Silence has served me well in the past, and could serve you as well, if you would let it."
Tiamon laughed. "Ah, my friend, I find silence does not become me. I seem to prefer to live dangerously."
"It's your neck... possibly literally. ... What will you tell him of the strangers?"
"The truth."
"The truth, or the truth as Tiamon sees it?"
"Marne, the truth is the truth. I'm not responsible for interpretation, besides, this time there is no option as to what I tell. Major Samantha Carter used a device that by the Council definition is a Goa'uld device."
"Do you believe they are of the Goa'uld?"
"No, but it does not matter what I believe."
"What will you tell them of the others?"
"What others?"
"Tiamon..."
"Seriously, Marne, if there are truly others south of the temple, do you really believe they will survive the night?"
"Major Carter, you have circled these quarters one hundred and twenty-three times. After our journey from the temple, I do not understand why you feel the need to exercise."
"I'm pacing, Teal'c, not exercising."
The Jaffa merely tilted his head. "Indeed."
Sam circled the room again barely giving the seated Jaffa a glance. "You're right, Teal'c, but I'm very worried about Daniel and the Colonel. They're out there, the Kul-Da-Poir are out there. We're in here and we can't help them."
"I fail to see how becoming so exhausted that you cannot stand is going to be of assistance to them."
Sam smiled wryly as she sank into a lotus position on the other mat. "Once again, you're right. I won't be any good tomorrow if I don't get any rest."
The Stargate burst into life, spewing its energy stream into the night and ridding PRS905 of three Kul-Da-Poir in the process. SG-2 stepped hastily from the simulated liquid, weapons at the ready. Major Louis Ferretti focused quickly on the cauterized limbs near the gate. "What the hell? Hancock, what do you make of those?"
Lieutenant James Hancock knelt by the remains. "Large biped, probably eight to ten feet tall judging from the size of the feet. If the claws on the hands are as long as those on the feet, then I wouldn't want to meet these things unarmed. Wonder if there're more around."
Screams in the darkness caused all four men to start violently. Ferretti tightened his grip on his M16. "Shit, I guess that answers your question. Well, SG-1 should have headed north to pick up the UAV, so that's the way we'll go. Keep a close eye out. The UAV didn't show any kind of large life forms."
As another scream rang out, Hancock looked around nervously. "You think SG-1 ran into whatever that is?"
Ferretti frowned. "I hope not, but we have to assume the worst. They're eight hours overdue, and before you ask, Airman Spenser, we weren't ordered out earlier because SG-1 has a reputation for being overdue."
The young redhead grinned broadly as the group got their bearings and headed north. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I was going to ask."
"I know, Spenser," Ferretti returned the grin, "I know."
Vraxas smiled as he reread the report of the events leading to the capture of the two Goa'uld spies. The desecration of the abandoned temple by the flying machine had been bad enough, but then the Goa'uld had made their appearance, setting their tainted feet on hallowed ground. And he, Vraxas of Euloa, had been given the honor of leading the interview of the pair by the Grand Tribune himself. It hadn't even taken much of a bribe to the old man's chief aide to accomplish the task.
Leading the interview meant he would also lead the prosecution of the pair in their trial, if there was one, and Vraxas was certain there would be. The only real obstacle was the report by Tiamon, and of course, the man himself. The young fool had done his duty when he arrested the prisoners after identifying their devices as being of Goa'uld origin. If only he'd left it there, but Tiamon was honest as well as never being one to be afraid to speak his mind and his report made it patently clear that he did not believe the man and woman to be Goa'uld. Pity. Tiamon would have to be silenced, one way or another.