Kevin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alliancesjr) wrote2006-07-06 11:47 am
alliancesjr) wrote2006-07-06 11:47 am
Entry tags:
Secret War
Okay, this has been bugging me for a few days. I may or may not continue this, but I really really needed to get it out of my head.
Make of it what you will.
Great. Just great. Some new, unfamiliar world.
Jack O’Neill closed his eyes, and counted to ten. He hoped that when he opened them again, he would be back in the lab with Sam, listening to her drone on about subatomic catatonic somethings. And whenever he found himself wishing that he would rather be there, he knew that where he was had infinite suck potential.
He opened his eyes. Closed them. Opened them yet again. Slapped himself for good measure.
“Well,” he said, rubbing his cheek, “so much for the ‘Fell asleep during Carter’s lecture’ theory.”
You wouldn’t be speaking from experience, would you?
Jack spun around at the sound of the voice, searching for its source. It seemed to be everywhere at once, and yet nowhere at all. Worse, it had that smug “amused at the universe” tone of voice that Thor always had, but none of his charm. “Probably,” he said, dropping his hand to where his pistol should have been.
That’s right, he hadn’t been wearing it.
Well, I’m screwed, then.
Not as screwed as you would think, Colonel, but still in a dangerous position.
Jack narrowed his eyes in anger. “Okay, listen, whoever you are. I don’t appreciate being threatened. And I really don’t appreciate being plucked from my planet and dropped somewhere weird without a way to defend myself. And I’m going to venture a guess and say that it was your doing.”
You would be correct, said the voice, taking on its amused tone again.
Jack crossed his arms. “Could you at least show yourself? I don’t like talking to someone I can’t see.”
“Very well.”
Suddenly, Jack was standing in front of an elderly man, dressed in a tan tunic and trousers and a brown robe. An outfit that looked familiar...
Oh, hell.
“Are you sure I’m not asleep? I’ve seen plenty of people, but never one that looked like Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
The being in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s form smiled. “I am just taking a form that would be familiar to you.”
Jack waved his hand, unimpressed. “Whatever. You gonna tell me who you are, and what I’m doing here?”
The smile faded. “I have been known by many names, Colonel O’Neill. But you may call me the Ellimist. As for what you’re doing here?”
The Ellimist turned to watch the sun set on the alien landscape.
“You have been Chosen.”
Jack stood there. Opened his mouth. Closed it.
Opened it again. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he said. “Chosen for what?”
The Ellimist seemed to sigh. “There is a contest that my rival has thrust upon me. Our previous challenge did not satisfy his competitive nature, and has decided to once again send seven champions of his own against seven of my choosing.”
Jack was silent for a moment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“All will be explained in time. Suffice it to say, Crayak has chosen seven champions are – or were – human. This time he has even selected his champions from a multitude of dimensions, one of which you originated from.”
Alternate dimensions. Funny, Jack thought that the Mirror was locked away safely.
“So you chose me as one of your own champions?” he asked, cutting to the main point. “First off, why?”
“I have observed you, and I am impressed with both your leadership skills and your ability to adapt quickly to unfamiliar situations. These are both qualities that will aid you and your companions.
“But there is a second reason I have chosen you.”
Jack raised an eyebrow; something he picked up from Teal’c. “What’s that?”
“Crayak has chosen very powerful humans, forcing me to select from their counterparts. Your foe is known to you as Apophis.”
Whatever snarky response Jack was prepared to use died on his lips, as a cold hard chunk settled into his stomach.
The Ellimist continued. “Because of this extra factor, I have had to...improvise. You will have strong allies, ones that will likewise be familiar with their Crayak-chosen counterparts.”
Jack was rapidly becoming aware that this was not a “take it or leave it” offer; he was stranded out here, without a weapon, and he was talking to the person who brought him – and a powerful Goa’uld System Lord – here. He would have to play it by the Ellimist’s rules if he wanted to get home.
Though those rules could use a bit more definition. Especially where his weapons were concerned.
As if reading his mind, the Ellimist nodded. “Of course, you won’t be entirely defenseless.” He waved his hand, and Jack found himself in his mission gear, including his P90 rifle on its strap. His pistol was in its holster on his side, and his knives were tucked away in their spots in his boot and belt.
“Well, okay then.” Jack said. “I feel better already.”
Make of it what you will.
Great. Just great. Some new, unfamiliar world.
Jack O’Neill closed his eyes, and counted to ten. He hoped that when he opened them again, he would be back in the lab with Sam, listening to her drone on about subatomic catatonic somethings. And whenever he found himself wishing that he would rather be there, he knew that where he was had infinite suck potential.
He opened his eyes. Closed them. Opened them yet again. Slapped himself for good measure.
“Well,” he said, rubbing his cheek, “so much for the ‘Fell asleep during Carter’s lecture’ theory.”
You wouldn’t be speaking from experience, would you?
Jack spun around at the sound of the voice, searching for its source. It seemed to be everywhere at once, and yet nowhere at all. Worse, it had that smug “amused at the universe” tone of voice that Thor always had, but none of his charm. “Probably,” he said, dropping his hand to where his pistol should have been.
That’s right, he hadn’t been wearing it.
Well, I’m screwed, then.
Not as screwed as you would think, Colonel, but still in a dangerous position.
Jack narrowed his eyes in anger. “Okay, listen, whoever you are. I don’t appreciate being threatened. And I really don’t appreciate being plucked from my planet and dropped somewhere weird without a way to defend myself. And I’m going to venture a guess and say that it was your doing.”
You would be correct, said the voice, taking on its amused tone again.
Jack crossed his arms. “Could you at least show yourself? I don’t like talking to someone I can’t see.”
“Very well.”
Suddenly, Jack was standing in front of an elderly man, dressed in a tan tunic and trousers and a brown robe. An outfit that looked familiar...
Oh, hell.
“Are you sure I’m not asleep? I’ve seen plenty of people, but never one that looked like Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
The being in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s form smiled. “I am just taking a form that would be familiar to you.”
Jack waved his hand, unimpressed. “Whatever. You gonna tell me who you are, and what I’m doing here?”
The smile faded. “I have been known by many names, Colonel O’Neill. But you may call me the Ellimist. As for what you’re doing here?”
The Ellimist turned to watch the sun set on the alien landscape.
“You have been Chosen.”
Jack stood there. Opened his mouth. Closed it.
Opened it again. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he said. “Chosen for what?”
The Ellimist seemed to sigh. “There is a contest that my rival has thrust upon me. Our previous challenge did not satisfy his competitive nature, and has decided to once again send seven champions of his own against seven of my choosing.”
Jack was silent for a moment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“All will be explained in time. Suffice it to say, Crayak has chosen seven champions are – or were – human. This time he has even selected his champions from a multitude of dimensions, one of which you originated from.”
Alternate dimensions. Funny, Jack thought that the Mirror was locked away safely.
“So you chose me as one of your own champions?” he asked, cutting to the main point. “First off, why?”
“I have observed you, and I am impressed with both your leadership skills and your ability to adapt quickly to unfamiliar situations. These are both qualities that will aid you and your companions.
“But there is a second reason I have chosen you.”
Jack raised an eyebrow; something he picked up from Teal’c. “What’s that?”
“Crayak has chosen very powerful humans, forcing me to select from their counterparts. Your foe is known to you as Apophis.”
Whatever snarky response Jack was prepared to use died on his lips, as a cold hard chunk settled into his stomach.
The Ellimist continued. “Because of this extra factor, I have had to...improvise. You will have strong allies, ones that will likewise be familiar with their Crayak-chosen counterparts.”
Jack was rapidly becoming aware that this was not a “take it or leave it” offer; he was stranded out here, without a weapon, and he was talking to the person who brought him – and a powerful Goa’uld System Lord – here. He would have to play it by the Ellimist’s rules if he wanted to get home.
Though those rules could use a bit more definition. Especially where his weapons were concerned.
As if reading his mind, the Ellimist nodded. “Of course, you won’t be entirely defenseless.” He waved his hand, and Jack found himself in his mission gear, including his P90 rifle on its strap. His pistol was in its holster on his side, and his knives were tucked away in their spots in his boot and belt.
“Well, okay then.” Jack said. “I feel better already.”