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Wednesday, January 22nd, 2014 11:47 am
The seventh in the On the Outside, Looking In series: episode-related drabbles from the perspective of an outsider or a minor character. There's one here for every episode from Season Seven. Rated PG.

Author's note: one of these is shameless wish-fulfillment on my part. Those of you who know me well will have no trouble guessing which one, although my money is on Aelfgyfu to spot it first. :)


The last time Reynolds saw Jackson, it had been five days before his death.

He'd heard the stories, of course, but even the wildest tales of Abydos and Anubis never tried to suggest that Jackson wasn't still dead. Yet here he stood: alive, breathing, in the flesh!

Reynolds didn't often blink at what they encountered through the Stargate (at least, he hadn't for years.) This time, though...

We've got the craziest job in the universe, he thought, feeling an incredulous grin spread across his face as he stepped forward to welcome Daniel Jackson back to the world of the living.


The Jaffa concept of honor has always been two-pronged: the honor of one's lord, and the honor of one's own self. The first, of course, superseded the second. Always.

But now Oshu stood, conflicted and irresolute. Where was Lord Yu's honor? His word now, or the word he had formerly given, when his mind was clear? And if Oshu's own honor was upheld by the latter while the former left it in tatters, was it the greater glory to ignore his own honor in deference to his lord's?

Oshu, unsure of the right answer, could not meet Teal'c's eyes.

Fragile Balance

"Cheyenne Mountain."

"Colonel Jack O'Neill. I don't have the extension, but he works in Deep Space Radar Telemetry." He recited the painfully obvious cover story in a calm, monotonous voice.

"Your name, sir?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Harlan Beck."

There were several clicks, then a strange voice: "Hammond."

"I'm trying to reach Jack O'Neill."

"O'Neill isn't... available right now, Colonel. You're speaking to his commanding officer."

"I apologize, sir. It's unimportant - a personal matter."

"I'll let him know you called." A pause. "When I see him next."

"Don't bother, sir. I just wanted to pass on greetings from his nephew."

"His what?"


Unlike most physiotherapists working with the civilian population, Sheri rarely had to bully her patients into doing their required exercises. She was more used to stubborn soldiers going far beyond her instructions in an attempt to restore themselves to full mobility as quickly as possible. It wasn't just routine machismo, either; the women in the military were often even more determined than their male counterparts. Frequently, Sheri needed to force patients to recognize that doing too much too soon could actually set them back.

But Teal'c... Teal'c scared her. It wasn't just dogged obstinacy; this was a frightening, unmistakable need.


Alert! Four new sets of lungs had suddenly intruded, breathing precious, rationed air.

Calculations raced along wires and circuits, determining the strength of the shield, the diminishing energy source, the reduced number of beings that allowed for continued viability under the dome. Equations spun, fractured, recalibrated. The same answer as always proved to be the only logical solution: reduce the number of beings to permit the continued existence of those that remain.


Four people suddenly raised their chins, eyes blank, faces smoothed of all expression. They walked away from their regular tasks and headed toward the perimeter... and death.


Martice snarled silently at the teeming others who vied against him. How dared they even attempt to wrest this body from him! He was their Sovereign, their supreme leader!

Years of command had honed the sharpness of his will, allowing him to dominate the mewling souls that begged for voice. He only ceded control when the pain grew too great.

When he realized the full extent of Pharrin's betrayal, though, Martice acted swiftly. He rummaged through the tangled pathways and found the other that was Pharrin's own child. "Beg your father for life," he hissed, and shoved the boy forward.

Enemy Mine

Evan spun away from the horrific sight, gorge rising in his throat. His breakfast suddenly returned with a vengeance as he vomited.

A few hours ago, Ritter had been a living, breathing human being. Now, all that was left was pitiful, mangled remains, a grotesque scarecrow in a line of warning totems.

As he weakly swiped his mouth with his sleeve, he could hear Teal'c calmly reporting their find over the radio. He stared at his trembling fingers and wished he could detect a more somber note in the Jaffa's tone, but perhaps he just couldn't read Teal'c very well.

Space Race

Nomee watched avidly as Eamon's cousin Murray obediently palmed the scanner.

"Sorry your brother isn't doing well," she told Eamon. Her gaze darted sideways to see if Murray appreciated her concern.

"Me, too," Eamon sighed.

"Nice to meet you, Murray!" Nomee called after them, and was pleased to see his polite nod of acknowledgment.

As the two vanished down the hall, Nomee surreptitiously copied the palmprint to her own datapad for future reference. That Murray - so handsome, and Eamon's relation! She liked an open-minded man, and with that kind of family background, Murray surely qualified. She'd call him tonight.

Avenger 2.0

"Doctor Felger." General Hammond's voice was even, his face calm.

"General." His voice didn't crack - barely.

"Major Carter reported that you behaved admirably on P5S-117."

"Did she? Oh. That's - that's good, isn't it?"

"It is. It's why you're not getting fired."

Jay gulped.

"Doctor, if you were military, you'd be court martialed for your behavior yesterday. You disappeared, knowing your input was desperately needed to save lives."

"Sir, I didn't -"

"Being a civilian doesn't excuse the inexcusable." Hammond leaned forward. "You're transferring to Area 51 tomorrow, Doctor - and I don't want to see you here in the SGC ever again."


"Some people would say," Janet drawled, her Southern accent more pronounced under alcohol's influence, "that an 80% success rate isn't bad."

She swirled the brandy in her glass, then knocked its contents back.

"Some people," she mocked. "Some people are idiots!"

The woman had been unquestionably afraid. But she'd accepted tretonin, trusting Janet and her team to keep her alive for her people's sake.

And they'd failed.

Janet reached for the bottle again, pouring a more generous helping. She rose to her feet, carefully steady, and raised her glass high.

"To Mala," she announced to her empty house, and drank.

Evolution, part 1

Bill tried not to shuffle his feet, but General Hammond's mantle of cool authority made him feel like he was defending his dissertation again - before a particularly hostile panel. "General, I'm not sure I'm qualified for this mission."

"Doctor Lee, Doctor Jackson needs a scientist with familiarity with Ancient technology. Let him cover the archaeological and linguistic aspects; your job will be to assess any device you might find."

"I've only been off-world three times, sir," Bill confessed.

Hammond smiled gently. "At least this is the same planet, Doctor. Get your things packed, and good luck to you both."

Evolution, part 2

It couldn't tell how long it had been. It knew only one thing: reproduce. Again, and again, and again. More symbiotes, as insensible as itself.

Confused and drugged, wiped of anything to transfer to its progeny, it just drifted, weary and mindless of anything but the dragging passage of time. It might have done nothing but reproduce for all eternity.

When the end suddenly came - when a roar shattered eons of silence, and jagged edges slashed its flesh in an abrupt explosion, and life-saving liquid drained rapidly away - it was almost surprised to actually feel something: complete, utter relief.


Erin tried to speak, move, blink. Nothing happened. Only her mind was still hers, thoughts churning wildly as she strained to understand.

It seemed the Prometheus really couldn't catch a break; the mysterious enemy that pummeled her shields had left the ship vulnerable, on the verge of destruction. Erin had stayed at her post, forcing calm into her voice and movements, obeying Ronson's orders, and then...

Carter tried a hyperspace hop into the mysterious cloud nebula.

Had it worked? Or were they all dead?

If this is death, she thought, oddly irritated, Jackson might've warned us how boring it gets.


Kianna knew these people well - especially Jonas, who worked with... it for so long.

But none of them knew her.

When Jonas offered her tea, it was already sweetened to the Goa'uld's tastes, not hers. The art on her walls, the clothing in her closet, even the snacks in the cupboards - none of it was to her liking. She wasn't disoriented or confused; she'd never lost full awareness of what was happening, and she recognized people, referenced events, documents and codes. But she was suddenly a stranger to former colleagues, and that was one more thing the Goa'uld had stolen.


The debriefing went on for weeks.

At first, Daniel insisted on being with her during the questioning. But she couldn't bear his presence, his instinct to protect (it's much too late for that, Daniel). After a while, Dr. Frasier took his place as her advocate.

Sarah appreciated her cool professionalism, but most of all, she was grateful for Janet's utter neutrality. Oh, she defended Sarah, using her medical authority to halt a session without hesitation when Sarah's energies flagged. But her attitude was not one of pity. Janet Frasier saw neither victim nor patsy, but simply a patient - someone human.

Death Knell

"The most important skill in diplomacy, sir, is pretending not to notice." Kovacek's wry smile grew twisted. "But, sir, I don't know if we'll be able -"

"The time for that is past, Colonel." Hammond's hands were pressed flat against his desk in an effort not to allow them to clench into fists, but his voice was perfectly steady. "Keeping secrets is bad enough, even if it's sometimes par for the course in this facility. But the Tok'ra went too far this time."

"Yes," Kovacek agreed somberly.

Risk was one thing, but deaths broke alliances - even ones as important as this.

Heroes, part 1

Emmett had years of experience working with the military. He anticipated the resentment, stonewalling, and passive-aggressive resistance; he managed to establish a decent rapport with most soldiers anyway.

But here...

Instinctive wariness comes with mandated secrecy, and the Premetheus debacle made things worse. Emmett accepted that, knowing that to the SGC, freedom of the press competed with national security - or, in this case, planetary security.

But he'd been invited here by the President, to make a documentary that would be hidden away until the Stargate went public! Was this unnecessary caution, or blatant censorship? And how could Emmett tell?

Heroes, part 2

When the wounded first poured into the infirmary, Warner focused wholly on the patient bleeding under his hands. His world narrowed down to triage and treatment, surgery and sutures. Everything else that was happening was peripheral, dismissed as not important now. There were other doctors, other medical personnel. They would deal with it. Warner's job was his current patient and nothing else.

Hours later, when he learned about Janet, he was grateful that tunnel vision had enabled him to get the job done. Janet would've kicked him six ways to Sunday if he'd let his grief interfere with his work.


Note to self, Bill thought a little hysterically. Don't go on on-world missions together with any members of SG-1.

Here he was, at ground zero for a naquadah bomb. The fact that he'd explode this time, rather than dying of thirst or beatings in Honduras, didn't make him feel any better.

Carefully studying the readouts of the yellow crystal, Bill tried to imagine himself safely at the SGC, secure in his lab. Except that even there, he was usually handling hazardous and mysterious materials.

Face it, Bill, he told himself. If you want safety, you're in the wrong profession.


Hayes stared unseeingly at the papers on his desk, lost in thought.

Maynard might suffer from a little hero-worship - and wasn't that just a little bit wrong, considering that he commanded these people? - but he was also clearly concerned about what was obviously a genuine threat.

Kinsey was just politics and power. That's all he ever was, really.

And Woolsey? Was he actually trying to do the right thing, or just trying to position himself on the right side?

Still. Front lines, seven years running...

Burnout could be very real. Perhaps dealing with that should be the first step.

The Lost City, part 1

While Bra'tac had learned from Samantha Carter and Janet Frasier that women could be most formidable, this vapidly smiling female did not seem to qualify. She wore no uniform, claimed no title. Why offer her respect?

"Has Hammond of Texas fallen in battle?" he demanded.

Daniel Jackson's quiet explanation did little to ease his concern. Bra'tac was all too familiar with the posturing and sacrifices the Go'auld required to save face. It was bitter to learn that the Tau'ri were equally weak in this regard.

Hammond had fallen in battle after all - a victim of the sordid war of politics.

The Lost City, part 2

When the chopper neared the coordinates, no one was quite sure what to approach first: the deep shaft burrowing into the ice, or the alien ship hovering nearby.

"Are we sure that's not one of the bad guys?" muttered one of the medics.

"Enemy is accounted for," the pilot said dryly. "If that ship isn't blow up, it's an ally."

The radio crackled. "This is Sierra Gulf One, do you read?"

"Loud and clear, Sierra Gulf One. What's your status?"

A long pause, then, "Stable."

"Do you require assistance?"

Again, that too-long pause.


They had won, hadn't they?
Wednesday, January 22nd, 2014 07:39 pm (UTC)
I love these! They're kind of like full-season flash cards!
Friday, January 24th, 2014 02:05 am (UTC)
You are so very much a Stargate Fandom Treasure. Srsly.
sid: (stargate Janet)
[personal profile] sid
Wednesday, February 5th, 2014 07:47 am (UTC)
I love Nomee crushing on Teal'c, er, Murray!

It was easy to spot Hammond telling Felger to never darken the SGC door again as your wish fulfillment, lol.

I also loved Janet at Sarah's side...on Sarah's side.