Read Online Stargate SG1 - Roswell by Jennifer Fallon, Sonny Whitelaw - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Fallon, Sonny Whitelaw
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The tiny jewels in the darkness had seemed too beautiful, too warm and inviting to be truly so bad.
How wrong she had been.
And yet, they had not lost their allure, and an old desire beckoned. “Do you ever wish you could just leave it all behind and keep going? Maybe find a simple little world where no one has ever heard of the Goa'uld or the Ori or even the Ancients?”
She was really just thinking out loud. It surprised her when O'Neill said, “Found a place like that once.”
“Really? How long did you stay?”
“Three months.”
She wondered if it had been boredom or a sense of duty that had pulled him away, but before she could ask him about it, the images flashing on the Asgard sensor drew her attention. “Oh my, you do have an awful lot of people who seem to be important enough to carry locator beacons.”
It wasn't a bad idea, she supposed. In the event of a full-scale attack by the Ori, key personnel could be beamed to safety and evacuated. “Do you think one of these is Senator Fishface? Here's an idea! We could test the Asgard transport on him if you like. Plonk him into one of the local brothels, perhaps? Might loosen him up a bit.”
Was that a smirk on O'Neill's face?
“Okay, base,” he announced for the benefit of Carter and the others back on Earth, without looking at Vala. “We're in position.”
The atmosphere blanketing the planet had thinned to a hazy glow across the curved horizon. Carefully checking the scanner again, Vala nodded and glanced at General O'Neill. “All set.”
“Then let's get this baby up to eighty-eight.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
Despite her earlier remarks about the various temporal devices available on the market these days, and her casual acceptance of post hoc reasoning, she'd never actually heard of anyone who had successfully traveled in time. “When are we off to, first?”
O'Neill closed his eyes. “Figured maybe a nice round number, like fourteen hundred.”
A soft hum from the rear of the jumper increased in tempo, and the stars briefly flickered before shifting slightly. The cloud formations below had also altered significantly. The readout on the HUD indicated several changes in the atmospheric content, considerably less carbon dioxide and methane, for starters, and the Asgard scanner registered only hers and O'Neill's signals.
After a moment of expectant silence, Vala beamed at him. “Well, that seemed to have worked.”
The hum from the time machine increased and the stars shifted again and——the impact flung Vala from her chair and into the windscreen.
She'd been injured far too often, been in the thick of far too many space battles to allow the shock of pain that tore through her leg to interfere with her reactions. Nevertheless, recent experiences of being burned alive had her gulping back a cry at the conflagration engulfing the jumper.
The fireball vanished; either starved of oxygen in the vacuum of space or because they'd passed through whatever wreckage had resulted from what was clearly their arrival at the wrong time and place. Thanks to Dr. Lee's short course on things that go bump in the skies around Earth, she could only assume they'd encountered one of those big, bulky bits of expensive junk, like the International Space Station, which would undoubtedly irritate a few people.
Or not.
The jumper was spinning wildly. She caught a brief flash of what looked suspiciously like a chunk of Asgard ship with an escort of tinsel fragments trailing off in one direction, while the bulk of the ship, still venting atmosphere, limped away in the other.
Which could only have meant that the jumper had arrived partially embedded inside the ship's hull.
“Oops.”
Squeezing her eyes shut to clear the pinwheel lights blurring her vision, Vala tried extracting herself from the windscreen. Not so easy. Something bulky—O'Neill's legs,
How wrong she had been.
And yet, they had not lost their allure, and an old desire beckoned. “Do you ever wish you could just leave it all behind and keep going? Maybe find a simple little world where no one has ever heard of the Goa'uld or the Ori or even the Ancients?”
She was really just thinking out loud. It surprised her when O'Neill said, “Found a place like that once.”
“Really? How long did you stay?”
“Three months.”
She wondered if it had been boredom or a sense of duty that had pulled him away, but before she could ask him about it, the images flashing on the Asgard sensor drew her attention. “Oh my, you do have an awful lot of people who seem to be important enough to carry locator beacons.”
It wasn't a bad idea, she supposed. In the event of a full-scale attack by the Ori, key personnel could be beamed to safety and evacuated. “Do you think one of these is Senator Fishface? Here's an idea! We could test the Asgard transport on him if you like. Plonk him into one of the local brothels, perhaps? Might loosen him up a bit.”
Was that a smirk on O'Neill's face?
“Okay, base,” he announced for the benefit of Carter and the others back on Earth, without looking at Vala. “We're in position.”
The atmosphere blanketing the planet had thinned to a hazy glow across the curved horizon. Carefully checking the scanner again, Vala nodded and glanced at General O'Neill. “All set.”
“Then let's get this baby up to eighty-eight.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
Despite her earlier remarks about the various temporal devices available on the market these days, and her casual acceptance of post hoc reasoning, she'd never actually heard of anyone who had successfully traveled in time. “When are we off to, first?”
O'Neill closed his eyes. “Figured maybe a nice round number, like fourteen hundred.”
A soft hum from the rear of the jumper increased in tempo, and the stars briefly flickered before shifting slightly. The cloud formations below had also altered significantly. The readout on the HUD indicated several changes in the atmospheric content, considerably less carbon dioxide and methane, for starters, and the Asgard scanner registered only hers and O'Neill's signals.
After a moment of expectant silence, Vala beamed at him. “Well, that seemed to have worked.”
The hum from the time machine increased and the stars shifted again and——the impact flung Vala from her chair and into the windscreen.
She'd been injured far too often, been in the thick of far too many space battles to allow the shock of pain that tore through her leg to interfere with her reactions. Nevertheless, recent experiences of being burned alive had her gulping back a cry at the conflagration engulfing the jumper.
The fireball vanished; either starved of oxygen in the vacuum of space or because they'd passed through whatever wreckage had resulted from what was clearly their arrival at the wrong time and place. Thanks to Dr. Lee's short course on things that go bump in the skies around Earth, she could only assume they'd encountered one of those big, bulky bits of expensive junk, like the International Space Station, which would undoubtedly irritate a few people.
Or not.
The jumper was spinning wildly. She caught a brief flash of what looked suspiciously like a chunk of Asgard ship with an escort of tinsel fragments trailing off in one direction, while the bulk of the ship, still venting atmosphere, limped away in the other.
Which could only have meant that the jumper had arrived partially embedded inside the ship's hull.
“Oops.”
Squeezing her eyes shut to clear the pinwheel lights blurring her vision, Vala tried extracting herself from the windscreen. Not so easy. Something bulky—O'Neill's legs,
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