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.
Major Carter is once again on the move. I have suggested repeatedly that her incessant circling of this room serves no purpose, but she is much like Daniel Jackson. Neither of them endures loss of control in a gracious manner. They are both entirely too accustomed to being able to find a solution, if only they study the problem long enough.
It is common knowledge among the personnel at the SGC that Daniel Jackson can be found in his laboratory at all hours, studying some obscure text or artifact and mindless of the time of day or of his last meal. If it were not for the vigilance of O'Neill, and others, that young man would exhaust himself completely within a week. But then there are so many items which secure his interest, and too few personnel to assist him in his duties. No, that is not an accurate statement. There are a number of linguists and archaeologists in the service of the SGC, but Daniel Jackson's instinct for translation is unique. His successful decoding of the Stargate glyphs in an amazingly short period of time is by far the finest example of his unique mind.
Major Carter also spends a large amount of time in her laboratory, but this fact is less well-known. I believe this to be due to her sex. I have noticed a tendency, odd though it may be, of the Tau'ri to count exceptional in the male what is considered commonplace in the female. Also, as O'Neill says, she has the sense to come up for air. I did not understand this until he explained that, unlike Daniel Jackson, Major Carter will not allow herself to fall prey to sleep deprivation and starvation. Unless there is a crisis. Then she devotes herself solely to the task at hand, and must often be reminded to rest and eat. When O'Neill was stranded on P5C-768, her incredible intellect worked diligently to secure his return, but at great cost to herself. All that her friends could do to assist her was to be watchful for signs of fatigue and hunger.
O'Neill says this single-mindedness is because they are scientists. I believe it to be because they both care so deeply - for both their mission and their friends. Her facial expressions speak volumes about her concern. ... Odd. Something is wrong. She has suddenly lost all color in her face.
"Major Carter..."
I can feel his eyes follow me around the room. He's right. This endless pacing is futile, but I can't seem to stop. To just sit and do... nothing, in the relative safety of this prison, seems almost obscene.
Dammit! Those, those creatures are roaming the countryside, Daniel's hurt, the Colonel obviously needs our help, and we're stuck here. Oh, yeah, and Teal'c and I are probably gonna be tried as Goa'ulds at first light, which is bound to be only a few hours away, at best. Holy Hannah, can it possibly get any worse?
Oh, God! Hours. It's been at least sixteen hours since we came through the 'gate. The readings from the UAV placed it about two hours, tops, from the 'gate. That means... Shit! We're way overdue. A rescue team will have come through the 'gate by now. Great! Maybe they'll find the Colonel and Daniel. No, wait. They'll go north. Our mission was to go north. Oh, damn, damn, damn. Why did we ever split up? They'll be out in the open, just like the Colonel and Daniel. Maybe the General decided not to send a team. Yeah, right, and the Colonel's a patient man.
"Major Carter?"
Huh? What? "Oh, yes, uh, I know, I know. I should be conserving my strength. I will in a minute."
"That was not my question, Major Carter."
"Oh. Then, what?"
"You have lost color, are you ill?"
"No. Just worried."
"Colonel O'Neill will be able to protect Daniel Jackson. He is most resourceful."
She smiled broadly. "Yes, he is. But by now General Hammond will have sent a rescue team."
"I do not understand. Will they not be expecting trouble?"
"Probably. Alien invasions, native uprisings. That sort of thing."
"They will be unprepared for the Kul-Da-Poir."
"That's putting it mildly."
"Ah, Tiamon, so good of you to come, and at such short notice." Vraxas smiled broadly as he approached the taller man standing in the doorway. "Come, be seated. Would you care for some wine, or perhaps something stronger?"
"Wine would be fine, thank you." Tiamon walked deliberately to the chaise nearest the door, but remained standing.
The councilman frowned as he watched the military leader move toward the chaise. His guest's bearing was strictly military, but there was an underlying tension about the man. One which would have to be overcome if Vraxas was to win the day. The older man returned to his desk and poured two glasses of a deep purple liquid from a decanter on his side table. He kept his back carefully positioned between Tiamon and the wine as he opened a small pouch and emptied it's contents into both glasses. Returning to his guest, he offered a goblet. Tiamon smiled and took the other glass. Vraxas looked mildly surprised, and a bit concerned as he continued his monologue. "You probably wonder why I brought you here."
"Not a bit."
The older man had the grace to blush. "Indeed, perhaps you'd care to enlighten me, then?"
Tiamon took a large sip of the wine then watched for a moment as he swirled the rich liquid around his glass. "You've figured out that our guests are not Goa'uld, but plan to prosecute them as Goa'uld anyway. Do I have your attention?"
"Oh, by all means, yes."
"You plan to try them, convict them, and execute them."
"Why would I do that?"
"The people have long wished for someone to blame for the existence of the Redcaps, and the need to remain safely behind walls after darkness comes. You now have the opportunity to do so, at little risk to yourself."
"You do not believe them to be Goa'uld?" Vraxas smiled slightly as he spoke.
"No more than you." Tiamon sipped more wine.
"I see. So I cannot persuade you to side with me in the interview vote?"
"No."
"Simple, to the point. That's what I like about you, Tiamon. You're so predictable."
Tiamon nodded politely. "I will try to ensure that two innocents are not made to suffer for crimes they did not comm..." His words faded away and his eyes opened wide as he stared at the glass of wine. He staggered forward, then went to his knees, gaping in shock at the older man.
Vraxas' smile deepened. "Ah Tiamon, both glasses were doctored. I simply did not partake of mine. Sweet journey, young friend."