Story Notes:

            Type: drama

            Rating: PG

            Author’s Note: written for my nephew

            Length: 2900 words

 

 

Seth’s Stargate Adventure

 

Colonel Seth Emond, team leader of SG-6, strode into the gate room and found most of SG-1 waiting.  Major Sam Carter greeted him with a warm smile.  Teal’c approached and extended his hand.

 

“SethEmond, it is agreeable to see you again,” Teal’c said.  He and Seth clasped each other’s forearms in the traditional manner of Jaffa warriors.

 

“Likewise, Teal’c.  I missed our sparring practice last week.”

 

“As did I.”

 

Colonel Jack O’Neill finished inspecting his P-90 and looked up.  “Hey, Seth.   You still on for the poker game Thursday night?”

 

“Looking forward to it.”  Seth accepted his own P-90 from an airman and double-checked it, just as Jack had.

 

“Sweet.  How are Wilson and Rawlings?”

 

“Still in the infirmary,” Seth said.  His teammates had both caught a nasty strain of an alien flu, putting them out of action for several days.  “Doctor Frasier says they’re recovering well.”

 

“Good to hear.”  Jack sat at the base of the gate ramp and stretched his legs.  “Get comfortable.  We’re still waiting for Daniel.”

 

“And Christian,” Seth said.

 

“Yeah.  Whose brilliant idea was it to put them together?”

 

“Ours.”

 

Jack rolled his eyes.  “Yeah sure you betcha.”

 

Ten minutes later, Doctor Daniel Jackson walked into the gate room, trying to stuff a book into an already-bulging backpack.  Captain Christian Crawford, Seth’s linguistics expert, had a hand on Daniel’s shoulder and was steering him toward the gate.  He hefted a backpack that was as full as Daniel’s.

 

“Forget anything?” Jack asked, climbing to his feet.  “Milk money, lunch bag, kitchen sink?”

 

Seth could see Sam trying not to smile as she reached for the uncooperative book.  “Here, Daniel.  I’ve got room in my pack.”

 

“Thanks, Sam.”

 

Sam stored the book and slid her backpack into place.  Daniel and Christian took a little longer to adjust the weight of their packs and retrieve their weapons from the waiting airmen, but finally they were ready.  Jack and Seth watched their linguists with affectionate amusement.

 

“Um, Jack?”  Daniel glanced around the gate room.  “What are we waiting for?”

 

Jack snorted.  “You, Dannyboy.”

 

“Oh.  I’m ready.”

 

Jack gently cuffed Daniel on the side of the head while Seth signaled for the dial-up sequence.  Seven chevrons later, the gate whooshed to life.

 

“Let’s move out, people.”  Jack gestured the others to precede him.  Sam and Teal’c went first, followed by Daniel and Christian.  Seth and Jack covered the rear.

 

Technically, Seth should have been in charge of the mission.  SG-6 had initiated contact with the natives of P8X-366 three weeks ago.  Major Rawlings had found traces of naquadah in the extensive cave system near the village where they’d stayed, so the Pentagon decided on a follow-up visit to determine how much naquadah was available and whether the natives would be interested in trade.  Although Christian had managed simple communication with the natives, he had requested Daniel’s help for the follow-up visit.  General Hammond had assigned all of SG-1 to accompany Seth, Christian, and Daniel after Wilson and Rawlings got sick.

 

Seth had discussed it with Jack, and Jack had left the decision of leadership to him.  Upon consideration, Seth decided that since most of the team was composed of SG-1 and Jack was the senior officer, he and Christian would defer to Jack.  Stories abounded in the SGC, and Seth was actually looking forward to seeing SG-1 in action and discovering for himself how they had attained their larger-than-life status.

 

Of course, he didn’t expect much action.  Sam would explore the caves for naquadah while Christian and Daniel talked to the natives.  Seth, Teal’c, and Jack would stand around and if needed, look scary.

 

P8X-366, which Jack promptly dubbed “Endor,” was a typical forested planet complete with trees and more trees and even more trees.  The natives, which Jack had taken to calling “Ewoks” even though they looked as human as himself, lived in a simple village five miles from the gate.  The cliff wall behind the village provided a natural border, as well as caves where the villagers could shelter during the occasional severe thunderstorms that struck in the late summers.  A nearby river supplied water and a tasty version of trout.

 

By day two, Seth and Jack were bored out of their skulls.  They scratched tic-tac-toe games in the dirt, fished, and taught the local children how to play football.  They were in the middle of thirty-fourth tic-tac-toe game—Seth was ahead, twenty to fourteen—when the whine of an engine caused both colonels to look up.

 

“Did you hear that?” Seth asked, checking the sky.

 

Jack gave a curt nod, looking as tense as Seth felt.  “Sounded like a glider.”

 

“That’s what I thought.  Daniel said the Goa’uld haven’t visited Endor in years.”

 

Jack shaded his eyes and stared in the direction of the gate.  “I’ll get Teal’c and investigate--”

 

The whine came again, closer this time.  Through the trees, Seth caught a glimpse of the Jaffa death-glider.  Jack swore.

 

“Definitely a glider.”  He clicked on his radio.  “Teal’c, we’ve got Jaffa activity.”

 

“On my way,” Teal’c’s voice responded.

 

Seth and Jack jogged to the village square, where Daniel, Christian, and several of the elder villagers were seated in a circle.

 

“Daniel, Crawford!  Get these Ewoks into the caves.  We’ve got Jaffa inbound.”

 

Daniel clambered to his feet.  “Jack, the Goa’uld haven’t--”

 

Jack cut him off, “Daniel, unless someone else is out there flying around in a death-glider, the Goa’uld are here.  Into the caves, now.”

 

Daniel turned back to the villagers and explained, rapid-fire, in a language that sounded vaguely Spanish.  The elders shook their heads and began jabbering.  Christian leaned forward and joined what looked to be an argument.

 

“Daniel?  What’s the holdup here?” Jack asked.

 

Daniel huffed.  “They don’t believe me.  I told you, Jack.  They haven’t seen any Goa’uld for generations.”

 

“For crying out loud!”

 

Seth heard the glider approaching again and pointed.  “Look!”

 

“Mira!  Mira!”  Christian stabbed his finger in the direction Seth was pointing and continued his efforts to persuade the elders.

 

This time, the villagers also saw the glider, and cries of panic rose up.  Daniel and Christian managed to calm them, their words tumbling over each other as they convinced the elders to gather their people and organize an evacuation to the caves.

 

“Looks like a search pattern,” Seth murmured, watching the glider.  “Probably searching for signs of habitation.”

 

“O’Neill!” Teal’c called out as he and Sam hurried through the crowd.

 

“Teal’c and I will head to the gate and find out what kind of numbers we’re looking at.  You’re in charge here, Seth.  Help Daniel and Crawford get these people into the caves and establish a defensive perimeter.”

 

Jack and Teal’c hurried off.  Seth and Sam had a quick discussion about setting up the claymores.  While Sam did that, Seth helped Daniel and Christian shepherd the villagers into the caves.

 

Two hours later, Jack and Teal’c still hadn’t reported back.  Repeated hails over the radio went unanswered.  The death-glider had passed over the village several times, but they had seen no Jaffa.  Seth huddled with the other SG members at the cave entrance and debated options.  When another hour passed without contact, Seth decided to search for their missing teammates.

 

He found the trail of blood first.  Smudges of red on leaves soon gave way to a more obvious path of broken branches and crushed bracken.  Finally Seth ducked past a low-hanging limb and circled a large tree.  Teal’c and Jack were tucked into a depression at the base of the tree.  Jack was lying halfway on top of Teal’c, who had an arm slung around Jack’s waist.  It looked as if Teal’c might have dragged Jack under cover before collapsing himself.

 

From the nasty cut and bump on Jack’s forehead, Seth suspected Jack had a concussion.  The older colonel also had a bandanna fastened clumsily around his upper thigh.  Seth unwrapped it and winced at the sight of the oozing staff weapon wound.  When Seth tried to settle Jack to one side so he could examine Teal’c, Teal’c jerked awake.  He clutched at Jack and fumbled for his staff weapon.

 

“It’s okay, Teal’c.”  Seth rested a hand on Teal’c’s shoulder.  “It’s me, Seth.”

 

“Seth Emond,” Teal’c breathed out the name and relaxed.  He blinked as if he were having trouble focusing.

 

“Where are you hurt?”

 

“My symbiote is healing me,” Teal’c whispered.  “Take care of O’Neill.”

 

Seth did as requested, but he watched Teal’c out of the corner of his eye.  Teal’c tried to pull himself into a sitting position and fell back with a grunt.  He curled a little to the side away from Seth as if protecting an injury there.  After he had bandaged Jack’s forehead and thigh and administered a broad-spectrum antibiotic and painkiller, Seth moved to the side Teal’c was protecting and saw that the side of Teal’c’s jacket, from armpit to hip, was blackened.  Teal’c had closed his eyes and was breathing in heavy gulps of air.

 

“Let me see.”

 

“My symbiote--”  He broke off with a pained gasp as Seth peeled back the ruined jacket.

 

“Obviously needs some help,” Seth finished, peering down at the staff weapon wound he had uncovered.

 

While Seth fashioned a bandage for the wound, Teal’c gave his report.  “It is a scouting party, most likely to determine the size of the population and the level of resistance.  If no one returns from the scouting mission, the Goa’uld will abandon any interest in the planet.  Therefore, O’Neill suggested we engage in what he called guerrilla warfare.”

 

“Picking off the enemy one by one and then fading back into the forest before they pinpoint your position.”

 

“Indeed.”  Teal’c took a careful breath to make sure the bandaging wasn’t too tight.  “It is a small group of twenty.  O’Neill and I eliminated eight.  Then they split into two groups and discovered us.  We killed three more before managing to escape.”

 

“Only nine left then.  Are they still heading for the village?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What about the death-glider?”

 

“It remains by the gate with five Jaffa to guard it.  Its only purpose was to locate the direction and distance from the gate in which the inhabitants are located.”

 

O’Neill coughed and cracked open an eye.  “Teal’c and I will take out the guard at the gate.”

 

Seth watched as Jack dragged himself upward into a sitting position.  “No offense, Jack, but you can hardly move.”

 

“Gimme a few minutes.”

 

“You’re in no condition to fight, Jack.  And symbiote or not, neither is Teal’c.  I’ll take out the Jaffa by the gate.”

 

Before Jack could renew his protests, Teal’c agreed.  “SethEmond is correct.  We cannot allow the Jaffa to send for reinforcements or to report to the Goa’uld.  Our injuries will slow us down.”

 

Jack shifted and hissed as he accidentally bumped his leg.  Beads of sweat dotted his forehead.  “Okay, fine.  What about the village?”

 

“The cave where they’ve taken refuge is defensible,” Seth said, “and we’ve laid down claymores.  I’ll contact Sam and let her know what’s headed their way.  I think the three of them can handle it.”

 

Jack nodded, not looking happy about the decisions but bowing to the inevitable.  Seth stripped off his pack.  He didn’t need the extra bulk while he was Jaffa-hunting.

 

“I’ll be back soon,” he said confidently.

 

“Go get ’em, kid,” Jack whispered, his eyelids drifting shut.  The painkiller was taking effect.

 

“My staff weapon,” Teal’c said.  “Take it with you.”

 

Seth looked at Teal’c, gauging his sincerity.  The staff weapon was a part of Teal’c, like an extra arm or leg, not an easy thing to him to give up.  But Teal’c stared back steadily.  He had trained Seth with the weapon, taught Seth moves that had taken months to learn.  Even though Seth had never used a staff weapon in actual combat, Teal’c obviously believed he was ready.

 

Seth nodded and picked up Teal’c’s staff.  “Thanks.”

 

Teal’c murmured a Jaffa phrase that translated roughly into “Hunt well.”

 

On the way to the gate, Seth passed several dead Jaffa.  Some were riddled with holes from Jack’s P-90.  Others bore fatal staff blast wounds that Teal’c had administered.  Seth gave the bodies a wide berth but followed the trampled path through the forest that the Jaffa had left in their wake.

 

When he was close enough to see the gate, with the death-glider parked nearby, he ducked behind a clump of bushes and pulled out his scope.  He marked the positions of the Jaffa guards.  One beside the DHD—he’d have to keep his eye on that one—and two at either end of the death-glider.  Another at the base of the steps that led to the gate.  That made four.  Where was the fifth?  He scanned the area again.

 

He almost didn’t hear it.  The noise was faint, a scrape of boot against rock.  Behind him and to his left.  Part of his training with Teal’c had involved listening, being aware of his surroundings, and using other senses besides his sight.  He still had bruises from the last time Teal’c had managed to sneak up on him.

 

Seth breathed out slowly and eased Teal’c’s staff weapon into a better position, trying to look natural, as if he had no idea someone was behind him.  He’d only have one chance at this.  Another noise, closer.  Seth dropped the staff so it was balanced in the crook of his left elbow.  He turned his head, just enough to verify the Jaffa’s position, and fired.  The Jaffa staggered back, a gaping, black hole in his middle.  He looked stunned.  Then he toppled to the ground and lay still.

 

Seth checked the other Jaffa.  As he’d figured, the shot from the staff weapon had alerted them to his position.  Three of the Jaffa were heading his way.  The fourth was dialing the gate.  Seth rotated Teal’c’s staff and fired twice.  The Jaffa slumped across the DHD and didn’t move.

 

Seth didn’t have a chance to fire again.  Two Jaffa were almost on him.  The third had fallen behind, aiming his staff in Seth’s direction.  Seth vaulted to one side and felt the heat of a staff blast’s miss singe his ear.  As the other two Jaffa converged on him, he brought his staff up like a quarterstaff.  He jabbed it into the nearest Jaffa’s face.  When the Jaffa stumbled back with a howl, Seth swept his staff sideways.  It caught the second Jaffa across the knees, knocking him to the ground.

 

Seth stopped thinking.  He reacted on instincts Teal’c had trained into him during months of sparring practices.  The staff weapon was an extension of his will.  He dodged, parried, spun, and struck.  He ignored blood and sweat.  Aching muscles and exhaustion meant nothing.

 

“Again,” Teal’c would instruct in practice, when Seth thought he had given everything, and Seth would dredge up some reserve of strength he didn’t even know existed.  There was no word of praise from Teal’c, not until they were done, just that one word over and over, relentless, “Again.  Again.”

 

So Seth fought, attacking again and again, whittling the odds from three-to-one down to two-to-one.  Then one against one.  Finally he alone stood, surrounded by dead Jaffa.  He planted Teal’c’s staff weapon in the ground and leaned against it.  He gulped for air, his chest heaving.  Sweat stung his eyes.  He tasted blood and realized his lip was cut.  His right cheek was swollen and tender to the touch.  Vaguely he recalled one of the Jaffa’s fists grazing his face.

 

He was sore everywhere.  He wanted a bath and a nap.  Instead, he dug into that hidden reserve of strength and trudged back to where he had left Jack and Teal’c.

 

#

 

“Well, you’ve made a lot of people happy,” Jack announced as he strode into Seth’s office.  More accurately, he limped in, since the staff blast wound on his leg was still healing.

 

“Have I?” Seth asked, looking up from a report.

 

“Yep.”  Jack eased himself into the chair in front of Seth’s desk and stretched out his legs with an audible sigh of relief.  “Carter found plenty of naquadah in the Endor caves.  Daniel and Crawford just came back with the treaty.  Sharp little negotiators, those Ewoks.  We’re invited back for a celebration party.  Daniel says it’ll be three days long, so we’ll have to pace ourselves.  Oh, and the Area 51 people are practically drooling over the death-glider you got them.”

 

“We got,” Seth corrected.  “I only took out five Jaffa.”

 

“Ah.  Obviously you haven’t heard the latest in mess hall gossip.  You’re a hero.  Seth Emond, Jaffa Killer.  Fifteen Jaffa in hand-to-hand combat.”

 

Seth choked on a snort of laughter.  “Fifteen?!”

 

Jack grinned.  “You should see the sign-up list for Teal’c’s combat class.  People are tripping over each other in their haste to add their names.  Next thing you know, they’ll be knocking down your door, begging for advice, wanting to see your scars, asking for war stories you’ve already told billions of times.”

 

“You’re joking.”

 

“Um…actually, no.  Speaking from experience here.”  Jack shrugged and hauled himself out of the chair.  “Welcome to the SGC hall of legends, kid.”