XOVER: Changing of the Guard 5: Terms of Engagement 6/19 [PG13]
Ecolea (ecolea@wt.net)
Wed, 19 Jun 2002 00:05:14 -0500
"When we get back," Methos grumbled, as they stripped off their white =
formal
jackets. "I swear I'm going to redesign these uniforms to be =
reversible."
O'Neill chuckled under his breath. "So instead of being just Special
Uniforms they'll be Extra Special Uniforms."
"Yeah," Methos grinned, getting into the spirit of the idea. "What do =
you
think? Desert camouflage or olive drab?"
"Neither," O'Neill retorted. "I kinda like being a deciduous forest or =
pile
of leaves. Besides, I'm tired of OD green."
The Immortal laughed softly. "How about we go for broke? Submit an =
entirely
new design. What do you think of...South American Rain Forest--with
orchids?"
The colonel winced. "Do you know how long it takes to get a new uniform
design approved, commissioned and in the field? The last one took fifty
years."
"I can wait," Methos said with aplomb as he pulled out a dull blue, jump
suit style uniform from the supply closet and held it up to see if it =
would
fit. At least this time they wouldn't have to masquerade as officers. At =
the
moment, low ranking technicians were more likely to blend in.
A short time later they were dressed and ready to leave. "Wait," O'Neill
ordered softly as Methos reached for the door panel. "Let's grab a =
couple of
these empty packs. I noticed something like our MREs stashed in a crate =
back
there." He pointed a thumb toward a corner of the room and Methos =
nodded.
"Good thinking," he agreed. "We may be in for a long wait before we can =
get
to the cafeteria."
"Not going to happen," Jack told him. "And don't you even think about =
trying
it. We need to sit tight until we know where we're going. I'm guessing =
the
crew quarters will all have intercom systems. If we do some passive
listening we may just find out everything we need to know."
The Immortal nodded. "They may even have access to the central computer
core, though I doubt we'll be able to do more than get a look at the =
ship's
library. Not without the proper codes."
Hopeful, but cautious, they took whatever they thought they might need =
then
casually made their way down the busy corridor unnoticed, ducking into =
one
of the small, unmarked empty cubicles that passed for quarters aboard =
the
Gallisian flagship.
"No wonder this one's empty," Methos frowned as he gazed around the =
cramped,
musty smelling room. "Six bunks in a space no bigger than my closet? I'd
mutiny!"
"Give it a rest, Pierson." O'Neill sat tiredly on the nearest berth,
hunching forward to keep from thumping his head against the bed above.
With a soft sigh Methos joined him, sitting on the opposite bunk, their
knees almost touching.
"Don't worry," he offered, trying to be consoling. "It won't be long =
before
we're missed. Thor's bound to come looking for us. After all, they can't
take a final vote without you."
Jack merely grunted a response, shifting until he was lying on the bunk. =
To
Methos' knowledgeable eyes he looked worn out. It had been a long day =
and
reviving from a massive brain embolism must have taken a lot out of the
colonel, young as he was, even with Tok'ra's meddling.
"Why don't you get some rest," Methos suggested quietly. "I can take the
first watch and check out whatever access we've got."
O'Neill nodded, already drifting to sleep as he mumbled, "You do that. =
Wake
me when you get tired."
"Will do," Methos smiled kindly. With a sigh of disgust he glanced =
around
the cubicle. Might just as well get started, he thought as he noticed a =
dark
screen and what looked to be an old access terminal set into the far =
wall.
If I'm lucky, I might even be able to bring up the ship's schematics. =
The
Gallisians might be smart enough not to post signs in the hall, but on a =
new
ship... It simply wouldn't do to have your crew constantly getting lost!
Chapter 9
It took a little longer than expected for the Chief Security Officer to =
run
the security diagnostic. That Goa'uld thing on the bridge made everybody
nervous and Nordovic had simply forgotten. He was just going off shift =
as he
remembered, swearing under his breath as he realized he could be =
seriously
reprimanded for this. Bug in the system or not, it was still a minor
security breach.
He nervously entered his quarters and logged into the ship's systems. He
wasn't supposed to, but he could run the diagnostic from anywhere. He =
set
the parameters by memory and went to clean up and change clothes. By the
time he was done the readouts would be available and with a little =
tweaking
of the time display he could upload them back into the system and no =
one,
except maybe another security officer running a full audit, would ever
notice the difference.
***
"I never thought I would say this," O'Neill groused, "but our MREs are =
much,
much better. What the hell is this thing anyway?" Jack held up thin =
yellow
strip of something that looked suspiciously like aluminum siding.
Methos rolled his eyes. "Can't you recognize candy when you see it?"
"Candy?" Jack stared at the strip and finally shrugged, giving it a
tentative lick. He grimaced at the sour taste it left in his mouth and
tossed it back into the food pack.
Methos chuckled. "Sour, salty or sweet," he grinned. "Everybody's tastes =
are
different."
"You probably eat pickled hog snouts," Jack muttered.
"I have," Methos nodded. "And a great many other things you'd likely
consider inedible."
"Not inedible," Jack argued. "Just stuff I'd rather not have to taste."
Methos merely smiled and Jack went on, becoming serious again. "So, you =
find
out anything useful?"
Their dinner break obviously over Methos sat up on the floor and nodded.
"We're on our way to Gallisia. No explanation why."
O'Neill snorted in derision. "We know why. The Goa'uld wouldn't sit =
around
knowing Gallisia might become a protected planet for a lot longer than
expected. The question is, what do they plan to do when they get there?"
"Or, more importantly," Methos suggested. "What they planned to do when =
they
believed Gallisia might become available as a base."
"And why Gallisia?" Jack wondered aloud. "Why not every planet on the =
list?"
"Maybe the Gallisian government was the only one willing to play let's =
make
a deal?"
Jack shook his head. "Might as well ride the back of the tiger for all =
the
good it will do them."
"You know that, and I know that, but do the Gallisians? And the lure of
power, even that of being subordinate to a greater power, can often =
tempt
the most virtuous soul."
O'Neill sighed tiredly. "So, how long till we get there?"
"Another two days," Methos reported.
"And the search?"
"What search?"
"For us, Pierson! For us!"
"Like I said," Methos shrugged and twisted his lips in a wry expression =
of
incomprehension. "What search? There is no search. No one looking for
intruders, unidentified or otherwise. Nothing. Nada. Niente--"
"Okay, okay," O'Neill held up a hand. "I get it. We're free and clear."
"I never said that," Methos clarified quietly. "There may be no search =
as
yet, but that's not to say there won't be one at some point. And there's
another thing I ought to mention."
"Which is?" Jack asked suspiciously.
"Getting off this barge. I was able to pull up their version of our =
regs. No
one gets on or off this ship without passing through a security =
checkpoint."
"We didn't go through any of that getting on," O'Neill pointed out.
"That's different. All the delegates were easily recognizable, though =
I'm
sure there was some sort of security about, if only at a distance. For =
the
rank and file, well... That's a different story."
"Always is," the colonel nodded, rubbing his hair with one hand as he
thought it over. "First things first," he finally decided. "We need to
figure out an escape route if and when a search starts. Second, we've =
gotta
come up with a plan to get off this ship before she docks."
"Lands," Methos corrected. "From what I gather this ship will land on
Gallisia, not park above the planet. And I haven't heard any chatter =
about
rings or shuttles and such. This may, in fact, be the only warp capable =
ship
the Gallisians actually have. And from what I can see," he waved a hand =
to
encompass the room, "it's definitely a refit."
O'Neill nodded slowly. "Which makes things easier and harder all at the =
same
time." He paused, thinking it over. "How about we try something =
different,
Pierson. Forget about the new systems and focus on what remains of the =
old.
We only refit when we have time and extra dough. And it's a complete
overhaul -- no wasted space like this," he gestured vaguely at the room.
"You're thinking it might have been a rush job, aren't you? Done under =
the
auspices of the Goa'uld," he murmured, slowly nodding. "Lot's of =
shortcuts
might have been taken, leaving lots of older systems behind."
"Not to mention cosmetically bypassing or covering up useless ducts and
hatches."
"Right," Methos nodded. "I did pull up an old set of construction =
designs.
I'm not sure how accurate they are, but it might be a good place to =
start."
He began to move back toward the terminal when Jack reached out a hand =
and
made him stop.
"You get some rest, Pierson. I'll have a look and see what I can find."
"Of course," Methos murmured, ducking onto his bunk to let Jack pass. =
"Silly
me, thinking you couldn't read a simple engineering schematic."
O'Neill grinned widely. "Works like a charm, doesn't it?"
Methos nodded. "Always let the opposition underestimate the abilities of
your forces. Alex would be proud. But," he added worriedly. "What if we
can't find an easy way off this rust bucket?"
"No problem," Jack said, moving to access the terminal. "We jump."
Methos' eyes went round with shock. Did Jack know? Was he aware of --?
"Just kidding," O'Neill laughed, seeing Methos' expression. "Of course, =
if
worse comes to worst we can maybe make a parachute or two out of their
supplies and leap when they reach the lower atmosphere."
"Oh, that's a brilliant plan!" Methos gave him a disgusted glare. "How =
about
we just cut loose and introduce our hosts to the joys of bungee =
jumping?"
"Now there's an idea..."
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