Battle Ground

By Kelly Wood

Title: Battle Ground

Author: Kelly Wood

Email: kw1vt@worldnet.att.net

Status: Complete

Archive: Heliopolis, The Sandbox, anyone else who wants it, please ask

Category: missing scene

Spoilers: New Ground, (mention of The Nox, 100 Days)

Season/Sequel info: Third season

Rating: PG-13

Content Warnings: uh…nothing that wasn't in the episode…

Summary: Daniel's thoughts and observations during New Ground.

Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Comments: Thank you Terri and Kathy! I don't think this would have been possible without your input. This is my first SG-1 fanfic, and it's very different from anything else I've written. Comments are welcome.

*******************

I should have known.

Anytime we go through the gate and it looks like it's going to be easy, it isn't. P3X774--we were killed. Sure, we met the Nox, but we were killed. P3X8596--beautiful planet, beautiful people who lived for one hundred days. If Sam and Janet hadn't discovered how to deal with those nanytes, Jack would have died of old age.

P2X416--no DHD? No problem. . .we've got a naqada reactor and friendly natives. Make that native. Trust me to find the one friendly person on the whole entire planet and convince the rest of the SGC that it's a viable trip.

But maybe not so friendly, Nyan seems to have disappeared and left us to their equivalent of the military. Nice people.

I'm starting to think like Jack; should that worry me?

**

Lovely little electrified cages they have on this planet.

I think they left the three of us here in what they call "the prison tent" together, hoping that we'd start talking about being Optrican spies. . .or Teal'c, our "man in the woods". But we're a remarkably quiet bunch. Jack's just scowling at everyone, and Sam's withdrawn into herself. Me, I'm just kicking myself for getting us into this mess. Figuratively. There's not enough room in this cage to move enough to do it literally. These. . .Bedrosians. . .seem to have the same level of technology as we do, maybe even slightly more advanced. I'm sure there's some kind of high-tech recording device hidden in here, listening to what we say. Hell, we're in a tent. They could go low-tech and just have someone outside, on the other side of the canvas.

It's not easy to get comfortable when you can't touch anything. I've never seen anything like those weapons they have. They seem to operate on some kind of magnetic/electrical principle. Convenient, too. Deliver a painful blast with one end, lock these stupid cages with the other. I'm starting to think that the Goa'uld are more humane than these people. At least they would give us an entire cell to stretch in.

Malin, Nyan's companion, told their commander that I was the one who spoke to her and Nyan. He seemed to dislike me from the moment I mentioned travelling though the Stargate. You could almost see the steam rising from his ears.

They took Jack away a little while ago. . .they said they were going to question us separately. Sam went next. I think the commander is saving me for last. After his reaction to my words earlier, I really don't want to think about why.

****

His name is Commander Rygar, and I don't think he likes anyone. From the questions he poses, I assume that Jack must have given him fake answers and Sam probably overwhelmed him with techno-babble.

His questions to me were mostly about the Stargate; I tried to explain about the Goa'uld, to warn him. If the gate is uncovered, it is quite likely that one of the System Lords will eventually come through. Just because Rygar's a jerk doesn't mean his people should suffer. He didn't want to hear it though.

Nefertum. Son of Ptah and Sekhmet. From the legends, he wasn't a bad god, but he was still a Goa'uld. He took people forcibly from their homes and planted them on another planet to worship him. However, I'm afraid the good commander is a religious fanatic. . .he doesn't want to hear the truth. He won't allow anyone to tell the truth. . .he made that fact painfully clear.

Every time he doesn't like an answer, I get a shock from that lance weapon. The intensity of the pain seems to be lessening as I receive more blasts, but I can feel my lungs working harder to catch a breath. My joints ache. That's probably not a good sign. But hey, these magnetic blasts don't hurt as much as a ribbon device, which feels like it's melting your brain from the inside. This just. . .hurts; in a general kind of way, all over. I can hold out. Great, now I'm comparing tortures. What happened to learning new cultures and new civilizations?

If we can't escape, I don't think Rygar will let us go. We threaten his cozy view of life. I think he knows we're not Optricans, but he doesn't want to admit it. I hope Teal'c is okay. . .I have a feeling we need his help to get us out of here, or we're dead.

**

They left us in the cages overnight. We could hear digging going on outside. There's still no sign from Teal'c.

The few times we tried to talk, we stumbled over our words. Concern for Teal'c was at the forefront of my mind, and, I'm sure, of Jack and Sam's. Discussing the SGC, escape attempts or rescue plans was not an option, since this time Bedrosian soldiers were posted inside the tent with us. It turned out that guarding our tongues was more difficult than not talking at all.

Of course, Jack didn't exactly enjoy the silence, so he started complaining out loud, comparing the cages to everything from dog runs to those underwater shark cages, which, come to think of it, are the perfect analogy. The guards told him to shut up. After Jack was shocked for asking them to be reasonable, he reluctantly obeyed.

Time passes very slowly when you can't talk, or sleep, or stretch. I'd love a cup of coffee about now. . .

**

It wasn't much past sunrise when two new guards came in; accompanied by Commander Rygar's second-in-command. . .I never did catch her name. After another blast of that magnetic lance--I guess to incapacitate me, since I didn't do anything to anger them in any way--they dragged me outside. The blast wasn't needed. . .my legs are so numb from not being able to move them all night that I couldn't have walked on my own, let alone run away.

A dead man was lying on the ground, with a hole in the middle of his stomach. Definitely a staff weapon burn; I should know.

"Explain," the commander demands, his face cold. Of course, I can't. Not to him. But my heart jumps. Teal'c is still alive out there, somewhere.

Rygar lost patience and grabs the front of my jacket. I flinch, thinking he's going to hit me, but he just drags me personally across the camp to a hole in the ground, the source of all that digging. "Explain," he demands again, throwing me to my knees. Again, I refuse. But, God. The DHD. Maybe we *can* make it out of here in one piece. . . We just need Teal'c and a key to those damn cages.

** Part Two **

The commander interrogated me for most of the morning. He asked questions and I told him I didn't know anything. It became monotonous after awhile. They even used the zat gun once, for variety, but I guess I must have passed out for too long. When I came to, Rygar acted like he might use it again. I warned him of the effects: one shot, pain; two shots, death; three shots, disintegration. I probably shouldn't have given away even that much, but I really don't want to be killed by mistake. He went back to what he knows…that lance weapon.

I may not be the bravest member of SG-1, but I'm sure in the running for the most stubborn. Whatever Rygar does, I will refuse to help him. I'm won't even mention the Goa'uld anymore. Let the Bedrosians learn the hard way.

"What happened to my man?" Rygar demands, startling me from a daze. For what seems like the hundredth time, I tell him I don't know, that only three of us gated in, that there is no other member of my team. He has one of his men hit me with a blast from the lance again. I vary my answers, but the response is the same. He asks a question, I say I don't know, I get blasted. They must have it on a lower setting, because only now am I noticing the after-effects I experienced yesterday. Stiff joints, rapid pulse, sore muscles.

I don't know why these military types seem to think I'm the one who'll break. After all of Jack's lessons on shooting and self-defense, I can take care of myself. Sort of. I don't look that different from the rest of the team, do I? You'd think they'd pick on Sam at least some of the time. Not that I want them to pick on Sam. Or Jack, for that matter. No, I'm perfectly happy to be the designated scapegoat if it means that these people won't hurt my friends.

I think that not answering at all might work better.

"What does the fourth Optrican spy look like?" Rygar is getting angry. Angrier. I guess unresponsive is even more infuriating for him than denial. I try not to meet his eyes. . .a technique I learned early in life. On the playground, actually. Bullies assume they're winning if they can't see what you're thinking. Don't meet their eyes. . .it was easier when I had hair to hide behind.

After a few more painful blasts, I decide that talking might have been slightly better. At least it gives me a chance to do something other than wince and bite my lip. "I don't know how that man was killed. We are not Optrican spies." Okay, my new theory is that if I repeat the same thing often enough, he'll believe me. But, seeing the anger directed at me, I'm probably wrong. Big surprise.

He calls for one of his soldiers and points to me. "Go. Bring his companions here. His pain doesn't seem to work, perhaps his friends' pain will." I open my mouth at that and he leans towards me, anticipation crossing over his face. I press my lips together in a firm line. No, I won't give up Teal'c. . .my friend, our only chance of getting out of here.

Jack would hold out. And he would want me to do the same. And besides, I really need to see his face right now. Rygar won't dare hurt Jack or Sam. Right? Even as I hope that, I look at the man's face and my heart sinks. He's already made up his mind. This man will do anything to deny the existence of the Stargate. . . anything to prevent himself and his people from discovering that their whole view of life is wrong.

**

They left me in the cage while they brought in two more, then dragged Sam and Jack in from wherever they had been. Jack scowled, but shook off the soldiers and got in without a word. Once Sam was settled, she looked at me and, reading me as well as she always does, asked, "Daniel, are you okay?" I just looked back at her. No, I'm not okay. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to get worse.

I was right. Rygar ignores Jack's sarcasm and stares at me. "You have one last chance," he states, his face set in rigid lines.

I give him the same answer. "I don't know how that man was killed. We are not Optrican spies."

He may be close-minded, but he's not stupid. Wandering over to the table where our weapons are laid out, Rygar picks up one of the zat guns. His eyes fixed on mine, he opens it. In a rapid movement, he points the gun and Sam and pulls the trigger. I've been shot way too many times now with a zat gun. . .it hurts like hell. I watch, my body echoing with Sam's suffering as she spasms, then passes out. Sam will be okay--well, alive, anyway. After the zat blast she collapses into a crumpled heap in the middle of the cage.

"Is there another one of your people out there?"

"I don't know how that man was killed. We are not Optrican spies." I hope the repetition, the desperation in my voice will stop him, but no. He fires the zat gun again.

Rygar watches coldly as Jack, like Sam, convulses and then topples. Jack though. . .Jack ends up slumped against the cage side, sparks dancing over his body where it touches the grid. His body is shaking with the voltage. I hold my breath, my heart hammering as I will Jack to fall away from the side of the cage. He doesn't. I look back to our captors. . .Rygar's second in command has an expression on her face that says she isn't enjoying this, but Rygar never even looks at Jack, only at me, waiting for the answers he wants to hear.

Hating him, hating myself for letting it go this far, I shout, "No! There is not another one of my team out there. Turn it off!" Rygar just looks at me, then glances over to where Jack's body is writhing with the current. I have never felt so helpless as I do right now. Jack, my friend, could be dying, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. Well, there is one thing. I beg them. . .him. . .to turn off the current. "You'll kill him!" I repeat, barely able to push the words out, my throat tight. I make the mistake of meeting Rygar's eyes.

Rygar takes it as a challenge. He sneers. "No, *you* will kill him." He really believes that. . .and he doesn't care. One eyebrow twitches upward as he waits for my reaction, staring me down. Well, maybe he does care. . .cares about making me cave in to his will. He tightens his grip on the zat gun in his hand, and I catch my breath. Two blasts will kill them. I can't let him shoot them again. I can't look away; I'm caught in his gaze, paralyzed. Despair overwhelms me. Why couldn't he have stuck to hurting me?

The sound of a disturbance outside catches all our attention. Someone is shouting for Commander Rygar. Way in the background, I can hear the sound of the Stargate dialing up, then the unmistakable ka-woosh of an opening wormhole. Rygar starts and breaks eye contact with me. His gaze turns to Jack. I hold my breath. He walks across the tent to turn off the current; I guess he still needs three live prisoners. I heave a sigh of relief as he runs out, followed by all his bully-boys. And girl.

A plan. I need a plan before he comes back. Only problem is, I am out of options.

***

General Hammond's voice called to us over our radios. The guard scooped up one of them and ran out of the tent, obviously taking it to Rygar. Because SG-1 had missed our deadline, the SGC, following procedure, began their effort to locate us. As the General alternately threatened, cajoled and shouted at Commander Rygar, the MALP activated.

We could hear Rygar over the two radios remaining in the tent as he spoke in his icy voice to Hammond. I know I believed him when he threatened to kill us. . .all the while denying the existence of Earth. He sneered at Hammond, even as he tried to figure out how Optrican spies were perpetuating what he perceived to be trickery.

The MALP turned its camera eye towards us. I attempted to warn General Hammond through the use of hand signals. Unfortunately, I don't really know any hand signals. Something we should put on our next workshop. . .communication without words. The best I could do was try to show that they had guns, that Jack and Sam were unconscious, that. . .the soldiers came running into the tent just then. . .and I tried to motion that they should terminate the connection. That signal I know.

Commander Rygar returned to the tent just as Jack and Sam started stirring. I sat still, studying my feet, not looking at the man, at the camera. My stomach clenched with anticipation. If they didn't figure out what the camera was, maybe Hammond could somehow use the inside information to send SG-3 through to help us. I'd love to see the Marines right about now. Rygar seemed to know though. He shot the camera, destroyed the MALP.

I bit my lip, holding in a groan of despair.

Rygar looked us over with dispassionate eyes. Called for a transport shuttle to move us to new facility. That caught all of our attention. If they take us away from the Stargate, it will be twice as hard to escape.

While his second-in-command packed up our gear, three soldiers moved us, one by one, back to the prison tent. They took Sam first. Jack tried to talk to the Bedrosian woman, tried to reason with her. I don't think she's quite as blind to what we are as her commanding officer, but she is a soldier, and Rygar is her superior. She ignored Jack's words, but made the soldiers take him next. I guess he made her uncomfortable.

We're back in the prison tent. Our weapons are gone. Although it might be interesting to see what a Bedrosian city looks like, we have to get out of here before the arrival of that shuttle. If we end up in this world's equivalent of Area 51, we will be in serious trouble. And I don't think I can tolerate much more of Rygar's. . .interest. No matter what he does to me, I won't tell him any secrets of the Stargate. I will tell him the truth about the Goa'uld and this planet's past--even if he doesn't want to hear it. I don't know what I'll say if he starts hurting Jack or Sam though. We have to find a way out of this.

***

We sit, under guard in the prison tent. Jack and Sam tried to ask me what had happened, but I couldn't tell them. The guards threatened to use the zat guns again if they didn't stop talking. Is this how Mayborne would treat prisoners at the SGC? Kind of makes me wonder.

A loud crash outside signals the arrival of the transport shuttle. Call me crazy, but I don't think that they're supposed to land quite that roughly. The soldiers run out again, leaving us alone. Voices are shouting outside the tent, the sounds of commotion and frightened people humming in the air.

Shots are fired. . .those damn magnetic lances, then. . .a zat gun?

Teal'c?

"Nyan!" Sam says with surprise.

Nyan suddenly strides in through the open flap, carrying an armful of weapons. He unlocks Sam's cage.

"Where's Teal'c?" I ask.

"Outside," Nyan answers, looking frenzied. He hands one of the lances to Sam, explains quickly how it works, and moves on to my cage, then Jack's.

Jack grabs the offered zat gun. "Daniel, dial us up!" he orders. "We'll lay down cover!"

Teal'c is outside. The DHD is out in the open. We're free.

There are approximately two dozen soldiers out there. There are five of us, with four assorted weapons between us.

Piece of cake. We're going home.

The End.