SG15 To The Rescue
Thursday, March 31st, 2005 09:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
delphia2ohohohThis is my contribution to the wonder that is SG15. I was introduced to them by Nialla in my home stomping grounds at SciFi's bboards for SG1 where she posted a link to read them. It was the 'L word' at first read! I think when the Stargate producers come across those stories, they will be kicking themselves for spending all that money on SGAtlantis when they could have had SG15 instead! (Okay, get your hackles down! I LIKE Atlantis too.) At any rate, with the encouragement of my slasherpals in the THING thread, I came up with this little tale to amuse them. I hope it fits in with the current stories. Without further ado:
Dedicated to the wonderfully smutty yahoos of 'Dr. Jackson's Thingies.'
Thanks to Nialla and her designated beta reader (I'm guessing it's justalurkr) for the beta and the evil plot bunny that was plucked, roasted and carved into the first draft making this a more balanced meal.
Special thanks to Lunie, Bug and Wraith who begged and pleaded but I wrote it anyway. ;o)
Rating: PG-16 at least for innuendo
SG15: To the Rescue!
By delphia
"You want us to rescue SG1 again, sir?" asked Major Sheppard. "Do they know about this?"
"Actually, they asked for you in particular," General Hammond informed him, "and, as you can see by Teal'c's presence, it's just Dr. Jackson who needs to be retrieved from PXU692, which the locals refer to as Langara."
"Where's Jack?" asked Dixon, not bothering to read the mission report in front of him.
"He is in the infirmary," Teal'c answered, "Colonel O'Neill was injured in an attempt to free DanielJackson. I myself was also injured, however, it was minor and my symbiote has healed me."
"Major Carter?" asked Rodney and Martouf in unison.
Rodney gave the ever-calm Tok'ra an irritated scowl, which he dropped quickly, remembering that even if Sam did act as if she preferred the handsome alien, everyone else knew that Marty preferred his big, dumb jackass of a team leader, Dixon.
Hammond replied, "This is a male dominated society and they insisted she leave on the initial contact, so she returned early and wasn't involved in the following events. I have assigned her other temporary duties."
"I've always said women had no business going off-world," Rodney commented, "They just don't have what it takes."
"And you do, little sister?" Dixon guffawed. "Hell, she'd probably wipe the floor with you, Chucky, if the general here would let her."
Rodney glanced at Hammond who was looking as if he'd appreciate the chance to make book on that fight.
"Major Samantha Carter is indeed a most formidable opponent. However, she lacks the needed physical characteristics to participate in this mission," Teal'c agreed.
"You're saying she ain't got no winky," Dixon commented as he nudged the Jaffa sitting next to him. "No schlong…no man-meat…no…."
"With that so succinctly cleared up," cut in McKay, "then why us? Or why Major Sheppard, in particular?"
"Dr. Jackson mentioned his name when his team members were permitted to leave. It is unknown at this time what he had in mind, so you are to go to the planet, make contact and attempt a peaceful solution to the problem."
"And if we can't, sir?" asked Sheppard.
"Then we blow them to kingdom come and bring the Doc back home," said Dixon gleefully.
"I'd prefer the peaceful scenario, Colonel; however, you are authorized to use force to accomplish your mission. The natives have only primitive weapons, so you will have superior arms, but remember you are outnumbered and act accordingly. And we'd like Dr. Jackson in one piece which is why Teal'c will be accompanying you."
"We're ready any time, General," said Dixon, obviously tired of talk and itching for action.
"You have a go, gentlemen. Gate activation in 20 minutes."
They all stood as Dixon roared, "Let's get geared up, ladies. Don't forget your condoms in case we get asked for sex again."
Hammond rolled his eyes and pretended he didn't hear anything as he quickly gathered his papers and retreated to his office.
Rodney grumbled, "They probably wouldn't even think of it if you didn't insist on bringing it up every time we offend someone and need to make apologies. What is wrong with just saying 'I’m sorry' and getting on with trade relations instead of getting it on with them?"
"It is not my place to criticize your leadership, sir," Martouf added as they headed for the armory, "But you are getting a reputation as an Intergalactic Ho."
"You're just jealous, blue eyes," Dixon sneered leading them down the hall, "I never take money from them so I ain't no ho. Besides, I didn't see you backing down from that threesome on the Amazon-babe planet."
"In all fairness, sir," Sheppard offered, "He and Lantash were pretending to be a Gou'ald when he mated with their queen so we could get them to let McKay go. Not that Rodney wouldn't have been just as useful to us a eunuch, but I could see his side of it."
"Can we not even mentally revisit that mission, please," McKay begged. The conflicting emotions of being intimately manhandled by two delicious blonde Amazon warriors, bent on reducing his masculinity, was more than he could bear without clenching his knees, effectively hampering his ability to walk a straight line.
"Teal'c, what weapons would you recommend for the terrain and the circumstances?" Martouf asked, also wishing to change the subject.
"I would advise staff weapons and zats if we are to inflict the least amount of harm on the inhabitants. However, some of your famous panty grenades may come in handy."
Rodney was amazed to see an almost smile on the reserved warrior's face. "Panty grenades. Cute, that's cute…one of those rare Jaffa jokes, right?" he babbled, following the team into the elevator. "So how many Jaffa does it take to screw in a light bulb?"
"If one is smart, one does not screw with a Jaffa," Teal'c answered solemnly, with great meaning.
*****************
Teal'c had forgotten to mention that besides being warm, the jungle-like planet was also swarming with bugs. Rodney slapped again at whatever was dive-bombing his head. "How much further?" he asked grumpily.
"We are almost to the place where we made contact. However, I believe we are being watched already," Teal'c informed them. "The village is close."
"Should we split up, maybe?" suggested Sheppard, "Marty and I can try to flank them."
"I say we go right in, straight through the front door," ordered Dixon, pulling a cigar from his pocket and biting the end off.
"Swell. We all know how well that works," Rodney said.
At that moment, a small group of deeply tanned men armed with long spears and primitive crossbows, stepped out of the undergrowth to block their path. They were all naked save for some feathers, paint and a few handy strings tied here and there. The lead native shook his weapon at Teal'c, obviously recognizing him as he shouted angrily.
The team looked to Rodney. "Jackson was right. It's a dialect similar to Latin. He wants to know why you have returned. What do I tell him?"
"Tell him we've come to blow his head off," Dave suggested.
"Perhaps something more diplomatic?" Sheppard offered. "Take us to your leader?"
Rodney came forward, close enough so he wouldn't have to yell, but still keeping the tall Jaffa between him and the native group. He wasn't a coward, but since he was the only one who could speak Latin fluently, it was only prudent to protect his assets or so he judged. He stammered a bit causing some amused looks from the natives. The leader answered back with a wave of his hand.
"He says we must divest ourselves. Remove. I think he wants us to leave."
"He wishes us to remove our clothing."
They all turned to stare at Teal'c who had already shed his backpack and was unbuttoning his shirt. "Say what?" asked Dixon.
"This is as it was last time. They do not wear clothing and find it offensive for others to cover themselves. Was it not in the mission report?" said Teal'c calmly shedding his shirt and reaching for the hem of his tee.
"I think I would have remembered it if I read I was going to have to get naked," answered Rodney, his voice ratcheting up a notch.
"Dr. Jackson believed it may also have something to do with the size of genitalia," Teal'c continued. "He translated the title of the village leader as meaning 'largest.' And indeed, the Headman is quite impressive."
Martouf began to shed his uniform. "Marty, what are you doing, boy?" asked Dixon, removing the cigar from his mouth.
"I am disrobing. The Tok'ra, like the Jaffa, have no taboos concerning nudity as the Tauri. I do not mind conforming to local custom especially if it will help achieve our mission. We must get into the village to speak with Dr. Jackson."
"So it's nothing to do with you just liking to be naked?" Dixon questioned suspiciously, eyeing the Tok'ra's lean torso.
"That would be, as you say, just a perk," smiled Martouf, neatly folding his spotless uniform shirt.
"Okay," Rodney squeaked as he dropped his pack and pulled his shirt over his head, "Okay, I am not against following local custom, but this is going to require hazard pay. Colonel, I'm expecting you to put in for hazard pay for us! And…wait…the Headman is the 'largest'…and Jackson asked for Sheppard?"
They all turned to look at John. "What?" he asked as he pulled off his hat and set it on top of his discarded backpack.
"Drop trou, boy. Let's see what the good Doctor has been thinking about," jeered Dixon, his arms folded.
Sheppard gave them a face that said 'eat your hearts out' and unbuckled his belt, shoving loose pants and silky khaki green boxers to his knees. Hands on slim hips he challenged, "So?"
"Woo hoo, chopperboy has been hiding a rocket in his pocket!"
Rodney gulped. Distracted by the assless man's tiny pretend butt, he'd totally missed the front package. Apparently, there was something holding those pants up after all.
"You planning on going back thru the gate with the rest of the girls?" Sheppard asked Dixon as he slapped the man's pinching hand away from his butt.
Dixon chortled and shook his head as he sat down to unlace his boots. "Nah, I got me an idea. Rodney, gimme your socks."
"My what?" asked McKay, shedding his pants.
"Socks, man. You got the least stinky feet in the group. I want yours too, Marty."
"What about mine?" asked John as he added to the growing pile of clothing littering the ground around him.
"Keep 'em," Dixon ordered, standing up and shoving one of his own socks into his pants. Grabbing McKay's, he turned his back to the natives who stood patiently waiting for them.
Sheppard looked at McKay. "Should I be offended?"
"Be grateful. I don't even want to know what he doing with them. And I don't think I want them back either."
Martouf stepped over his neatly folded uniform and handed his socks to the team leader who was still stripping but kept his back to them. Finally shedding his boxers, Dixon turned to the group, proudly displaying the now lengthily stuffed sock covering his member. It was carefully duct taped on with a couple of grenades dangling like loafer tassels on either side. A hum of exclamation came from the native coterie.
"Don't nobody laugh," ordered Dave as he strapped his P90 back over his chest. "Look like you are impressed. They gotta buy this."
"Will not that tape hurt upon removal, Colonel?" asked Teal'c, shoving his uniform into his backpack.
Dixon shrugged, "Probably. Duct tape isn't for pantywaists."
The warrior chief gesticulated with his spear and shouted again. "He says take it off," Rodney advised his mildly insane team leader.
"Tell him he's not worthy. Say I'm your head man and I'll only show it to his head man," Dixon said, striking a match on one grenade as he lit up his cigar.
McKay sighed and translated as best he could, wishing from the contemptuous look of the native that he'd continued taking those Enzyte pills for a few months longer.
They bought it.
With a gesture that said 'this way,' the native leader turned and led down the trail. His warriors fell in around the naked offworlders who had strapped on their weapons again and shouldered their packs, falling in line as they carefully picked their way in bare feet along the path.
"All it would take is a simple puncture wound on the bottom of my foot to pick up some strange alien bacteria that eats it way through my body in the matter of hours. I wasn't kidding about the hazard pay, Colonel," Rodney complained, mincing along carefully.
"Aw, quit your belly aching woman," sneered Dixon, grenades making a musical thunky-thunk as he strode after the native chief. "Like you had anything else to do today."
"Hey, I turned down a very attractive position at NASA, I'll have you know."
Dixon removed the cigar to flick some ashes causing Rodney to flinch. "Yeah, I've seen that position. The one where you get down on all fours and beg for your life. I like you in that one too."
"It was only that one time," screeched Rodney, "and as I remember, we were all on our knees…"
"Yeah, yeah…"
Behind them, Martouf commented, "Dr. McKay seems to have lost some weight."
Sheppard agreed, "I switched out his power bars for some low-carb ones. Then again, he's been having some trouble keeping the MRE's down. You don't think he's getting bulimic, do you?"
"I would doubt it. We are also having difficulty keeping those meals in our stomach. However, in Dr. McKay's case, I would guess the sheer terror of serving with Colonel Dixon is enough to cause chronic gastrointestinal upset."
John shrugged. "That explains a lot about Rodney, but not why the Colonel smells like that."
*****************************
The village appeared to be a random grouping of rounded thatched huts. The rest of the inhabitants were gathered in a central space and in their midst, on a throne like structure, was a naked and very tired-looking Dr. Jackson, sans even glasses.
"Teal'c? Is that you?" he asked as soon as they were within speaking distance.
"It is, DanielJackson and I have brought Major Sheppard along as you requested, along with the rest of SG15," said Teal'c. "Are you well?"
"Exhausted, but I'm okay. Major Sheppard, I'm sorry to drag you into this but I needed an…impressive man to deal with this group and you were the first to come to mind."
"You'll pardon me if I don't thank you and I'm not asking, so you don't have to tell me how you happened to notice my…uh…attributes. However, Col. Dixon has arranged to become far more impressive than I am. Impressive down to his knees as a matter of fact."
Daniels eyebrows shot up in amazement, and then he leaned forward, squinting. "Uh, yeah. Impressive. Are those grenades?"
"Damn straight!" chortled Dixon, gesturing with his cigar, causing a spray of glowing ashes to rain down on his team. "Now where's that largest guy I'm supposed to talk to?"
From out of one hut came a tall warrior, decorated in the brightest feathers they'd seen yet, with one of the largest attributes any of them had ever seen. Painted bright red, it was hard to miss, without it even being hard. He wore a necklace of sparkly rocks and woven bracelets decorated both arms. At his side, a handsome young servant carried what was probably his not-very-subtle sign of office, a huge spear.
The Headman strutted grandly across the compound to face the off-worlders, then he smacked the head of his servant who stopped grinning long enough to step forward, upright the spear and thump it on the ground in front of them.
"This is Qu'nn, the speaker for the tribe of the Kels," Dr. Jackson introduced him. "He does all of the Headman's talking. He's kind of a diplomat, scholar and lackey-of-all-trades. It's his job to memorize all the tribal history."
Dixon crossed his arms and glared at the Headman. "I ain't talking with Wee Little Winkie here, buddy. It's you and me."
As if he understood the bravado, the Headman made a gesture, spoke and looked to Jackson to translate. "He wants to see," Jackson said.
"Tell him he's not worthy. Tell him I can see he's only half the man I am."
Jackson paled. "Colonel, these are warriors and I don't think a bluff is going to work here."
"Tell him," Dixon grinned, tossing his still burning cigar over one shoulder. "I got me a plan."
Jackson sighed and spoke to the Headman who promptly laughed and said something back. "He says prove it."
Dixon set his pack down and shook himself all over, making the grenades thunk again. Then he closed his eyes and made an odd noise as he held out his hands straight in front of him. Slowly, the sock began to rise.
The natives made small sounds of awe as they shuffled in for a closer look. The Headman looked disconcerted and Jackson leaned further forward, squinting even harder. Up and up it rose, and with every inch, the men grew louder as they encouraged and probably, placed bets.
"How is he doing that?" Rodney said, his eyes nearly bugged out.
"I don't know," John gulped, "and I don't ever want to find out."
Martouf smiled. "I think I know."
Rodney shook his head, "I'm so not taking those socks back."
Finally perpendicular to his body, the sock covering stopped and Dixon opened his eyes. The Headman looked angry and his people were looking discontent with their leader. Suddenly a little voice spoke out. "I am the greatest!" it shouted. "I am the biggest!"
The natives fell back in amazement, some falling to the ground on their knees. The voice was definitely coming from the sock.
"You must obey me!" commanded the sock. "Drinks on the house!"
Dixon pointed to Jackson. Looking at his now disillusioned people, the Headman snarled an order and gestured at Jackson. "He says I can go. He'd like us all to leave," said Jackson as he slowly rose and stumbled towards them, taking Teal'c proffered arm to steady himself.
"I bet," commented John.
A group of the natives all began to shout as Dixon turned to take up his pack and join his group, his sock banging into Rodney's leg.
McKay yelped, "Can you make that go back down?"
"Not for a while, sister, unless you'd like to help," he leered.
"Not me, but I think any of those guys wouldn't mind helping. They want you to stay."
"It's their way," Jackson explained. "They figure the biggest is the strongest and the smartest."
"Well, we know that's not true," Rodney carped.
"Do we?" asked Shepard, blatantly looking down first at Rodney, then himself.
"It's cold here," Rodney answered. "I feel a definite chill."
"Right."
The Headman spoke again, this time taking his spear and offering it to Dixon.
"Thanks, but no thanks, little man. I got me a P90 that will take out a monkey's eye a mile away."
The Headman obviously understood the head shaking and other gestures as Dixon refused the job and began to walk away. Taking the necklace off, he held it out.
"He's thanking you," Rodney translated.
"It's a gift. Take it," Jackson said, "but carry it gently."
Then Jackson said something to the man who grunted and cradled his spear in his arms. Dixon slipped the rock string over his head and waved goodbye as they headed for the trail back to the Stargate.
"You said we'd be back to trade for more rocks, didn't you Dr. Jackson," asked Rodney. "What kind of rocks are those?"
"They refer to it as naquadria. It's used as currency among the warriors," Jackson answered tiredly, "It seems to be a more volatile version of naquadah."
Rodney stopped. "Volatile? As in likes to explode at the least provocation?"
"It's okay. It's still in a raw state and would have to be refined more before it becomes unstable. According to the speaker, Qu'nn, they had a more advanced civilization at one time, but warring factions used the ore to make some kind of bomb and blew them all back into the Stone Age. It's his job to remember the verbal history stories so they won't repeat the mistake. Of course, it does give off some radiation, but not enough to harm anyone for this short a time. However if one of those grenades went off, it would enhance the explosion…."
McKay, Sheppard and Martouf all backed swiftly away from their team leader. "What?" he asked. "Geeze, what a bunch of girls."
Swiftly detaching the two grenades, he tossed them to Sheppard and Martouf. "There, I'm safe now."
They looked at one another. "Not really, sir, but I suppose this will have to do for now," Sheppard said, tucking the grenade into his pack.
As they started back up the trail, McKay asked Jackson why the natives had held him. "Apparently, the long term exposure to their jewelry has made many of the men sterile so I think they were planning to use me as a source of backup DNA for the meeting with the women's village."
This time Dixon stopped. "You mean…maybe I should go back for a while, ya know, just for diplomatic relations and all."
"Planning to sock it to them, sir?" asked Sheppard with a wide grin.
Jackson said, "Please, can we go home now?"
Martouf nudged Sheppard. "What did I say…Intergalactic Ho."
***********************
Their arrival back at SGC caused some commotion as they were in too great a hurry to re-dress before gating through. Later, re-briefed or re-boxered as the case was for some, they were debriefed in the conference room with O'Neill and Carter sitting in.
After hearing Dixon's story, the room sat in stunned silence until Carter finally spoke up, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. "But the voice?"
"Ventriloquism. Learned it as a kid," Dixon said proudly. "I use it to get free drinks all the time."
From under the table came a small voice, "Drinks on the house! Okay, who farted?" followed by a juicy raspberry.
"Wow," commented Sam. "That's…talent."
"So, let me get this straight," O'Neill said, "Basically, you were rescued by a sock puppet?"
The end
Dedicated to the wonderfully smutty yahoos of 'Dr. Jackson's Thingies.'
Thanks to Nialla and her designated beta reader (I'm guessing it's justalurkr) for the beta and the evil plot bunny that was plucked, roasted and carved into the first draft making this a more balanced meal.
Special thanks to Lunie, Bug and Wraith who begged and pleaded but I wrote it anyway. ;o)
Rating: PG-16 at least for innuendo
SG15: To the Rescue!
By delphia
"You want us to rescue SG1 again, sir?" asked Major Sheppard. "Do they know about this?"
"Actually, they asked for you in particular," General Hammond informed him, "and, as you can see by Teal'c's presence, it's just Dr. Jackson who needs to be retrieved from PXU692, which the locals refer to as Langara."
"Where's Jack?" asked Dixon, not bothering to read the mission report in front of him.
"He is in the infirmary," Teal'c answered, "Colonel O'Neill was injured in an attempt to free DanielJackson. I myself was also injured, however, it was minor and my symbiote has healed me."
"Major Carter?" asked Rodney and Martouf in unison.
Rodney gave the ever-calm Tok'ra an irritated scowl, which he dropped quickly, remembering that even if Sam did act as if she preferred the handsome alien, everyone else knew that Marty preferred his big, dumb jackass of a team leader, Dixon.
Hammond replied, "This is a male dominated society and they insisted she leave on the initial contact, so she returned early and wasn't involved in the following events. I have assigned her other temporary duties."
"I've always said women had no business going off-world," Rodney commented, "They just don't have what it takes."
"And you do, little sister?" Dixon guffawed. "Hell, she'd probably wipe the floor with you, Chucky, if the general here would let her."
Rodney glanced at Hammond who was looking as if he'd appreciate the chance to make book on that fight.
"Major Samantha Carter is indeed a most formidable opponent. However, she lacks the needed physical characteristics to participate in this mission," Teal'c agreed.
"You're saying she ain't got no winky," Dixon commented as he nudged the Jaffa sitting next to him. "No schlong…no man-meat…no…."
"With that so succinctly cleared up," cut in McKay, "then why us? Or why Major Sheppard, in particular?"
"Dr. Jackson mentioned his name when his team members were permitted to leave. It is unknown at this time what he had in mind, so you are to go to the planet, make contact and attempt a peaceful solution to the problem."
"And if we can't, sir?" asked Sheppard.
"Then we blow them to kingdom come and bring the Doc back home," said Dixon gleefully.
"I'd prefer the peaceful scenario, Colonel; however, you are authorized to use force to accomplish your mission. The natives have only primitive weapons, so you will have superior arms, but remember you are outnumbered and act accordingly. And we'd like Dr. Jackson in one piece which is why Teal'c will be accompanying you."
"We're ready any time, General," said Dixon, obviously tired of talk and itching for action.
"You have a go, gentlemen. Gate activation in 20 minutes."
They all stood as Dixon roared, "Let's get geared up, ladies. Don't forget your condoms in case we get asked for sex again."
Hammond rolled his eyes and pretended he didn't hear anything as he quickly gathered his papers and retreated to his office.
Rodney grumbled, "They probably wouldn't even think of it if you didn't insist on bringing it up every time we offend someone and need to make apologies. What is wrong with just saying 'I’m sorry' and getting on with trade relations instead of getting it on with them?"
"It is not my place to criticize your leadership, sir," Martouf added as they headed for the armory, "But you are getting a reputation as an Intergalactic Ho."
"You're just jealous, blue eyes," Dixon sneered leading them down the hall, "I never take money from them so I ain't no ho. Besides, I didn't see you backing down from that threesome on the Amazon-babe planet."
"In all fairness, sir," Sheppard offered, "He and Lantash were pretending to be a Gou'ald when he mated with their queen so we could get them to let McKay go. Not that Rodney wouldn't have been just as useful to us a eunuch, but I could see his side of it."
"Can we not even mentally revisit that mission, please," McKay begged. The conflicting emotions of being intimately manhandled by two delicious blonde Amazon warriors, bent on reducing his masculinity, was more than he could bear without clenching his knees, effectively hampering his ability to walk a straight line.
"Teal'c, what weapons would you recommend for the terrain and the circumstances?" Martouf asked, also wishing to change the subject.
"I would advise staff weapons and zats if we are to inflict the least amount of harm on the inhabitants. However, some of your famous panty grenades may come in handy."
Rodney was amazed to see an almost smile on the reserved warrior's face. "Panty grenades. Cute, that's cute…one of those rare Jaffa jokes, right?" he babbled, following the team into the elevator. "So how many Jaffa does it take to screw in a light bulb?"
"If one is smart, one does not screw with a Jaffa," Teal'c answered solemnly, with great meaning.
*****************
Teal'c had forgotten to mention that besides being warm, the jungle-like planet was also swarming with bugs. Rodney slapped again at whatever was dive-bombing his head. "How much further?" he asked grumpily.
"We are almost to the place where we made contact. However, I believe we are being watched already," Teal'c informed them. "The village is close."
"Should we split up, maybe?" suggested Sheppard, "Marty and I can try to flank them."
"I say we go right in, straight through the front door," ordered Dixon, pulling a cigar from his pocket and biting the end off.
"Swell. We all know how well that works," Rodney said.
At that moment, a small group of deeply tanned men armed with long spears and primitive crossbows, stepped out of the undergrowth to block their path. They were all naked save for some feathers, paint and a few handy strings tied here and there. The lead native shook his weapon at Teal'c, obviously recognizing him as he shouted angrily.
The team looked to Rodney. "Jackson was right. It's a dialect similar to Latin. He wants to know why you have returned. What do I tell him?"
"Tell him we've come to blow his head off," Dave suggested.
"Perhaps something more diplomatic?" Sheppard offered. "Take us to your leader?"
Rodney came forward, close enough so he wouldn't have to yell, but still keeping the tall Jaffa between him and the native group. He wasn't a coward, but since he was the only one who could speak Latin fluently, it was only prudent to protect his assets or so he judged. He stammered a bit causing some amused looks from the natives. The leader answered back with a wave of his hand.
"He says we must divest ourselves. Remove. I think he wants us to leave."
"He wishes us to remove our clothing."
They all turned to stare at Teal'c who had already shed his backpack and was unbuttoning his shirt. "Say what?" asked Dixon.
"This is as it was last time. They do not wear clothing and find it offensive for others to cover themselves. Was it not in the mission report?" said Teal'c calmly shedding his shirt and reaching for the hem of his tee.
"I think I would have remembered it if I read I was going to have to get naked," answered Rodney, his voice ratcheting up a notch.
"Dr. Jackson believed it may also have something to do with the size of genitalia," Teal'c continued. "He translated the title of the village leader as meaning 'largest.' And indeed, the Headman is quite impressive."
Martouf began to shed his uniform. "Marty, what are you doing, boy?" asked Dixon, removing the cigar from his mouth.
"I am disrobing. The Tok'ra, like the Jaffa, have no taboos concerning nudity as the Tauri. I do not mind conforming to local custom especially if it will help achieve our mission. We must get into the village to speak with Dr. Jackson."
"So it's nothing to do with you just liking to be naked?" Dixon questioned suspiciously, eyeing the Tok'ra's lean torso.
"That would be, as you say, just a perk," smiled Martouf, neatly folding his spotless uniform shirt.
"Okay," Rodney squeaked as he dropped his pack and pulled his shirt over his head, "Okay, I am not against following local custom, but this is going to require hazard pay. Colonel, I'm expecting you to put in for hazard pay for us! And…wait…the Headman is the 'largest'…and Jackson asked for Sheppard?"
They all turned to look at John. "What?" he asked as he pulled off his hat and set it on top of his discarded backpack.
"Drop trou, boy. Let's see what the good Doctor has been thinking about," jeered Dixon, his arms folded.
Sheppard gave them a face that said 'eat your hearts out' and unbuckled his belt, shoving loose pants and silky khaki green boxers to his knees. Hands on slim hips he challenged, "So?"
"Woo hoo, chopperboy has been hiding a rocket in his pocket!"
Rodney gulped. Distracted by the assless man's tiny pretend butt, he'd totally missed the front package. Apparently, there was something holding those pants up after all.
"You planning on going back thru the gate with the rest of the girls?" Sheppard asked Dixon as he slapped the man's pinching hand away from his butt.
Dixon chortled and shook his head as he sat down to unlace his boots. "Nah, I got me an idea. Rodney, gimme your socks."
"My what?" asked McKay, shedding his pants.
"Socks, man. You got the least stinky feet in the group. I want yours too, Marty."
"What about mine?" asked John as he added to the growing pile of clothing littering the ground around him.
"Keep 'em," Dixon ordered, standing up and shoving one of his own socks into his pants. Grabbing McKay's, he turned his back to the natives who stood patiently waiting for them.
Sheppard looked at McKay. "Should I be offended?"
"Be grateful. I don't even want to know what he doing with them. And I don't think I want them back either."
Martouf stepped over his neatly folded uniform and handed his socks to the team leader who was still stripping but kept his back to them. Finally shedding his boxers, Dixon turned to the group, proudly displaying the now lengthily stuffed sock covering his member. It was carefully duct taped on with a couple of grenades dangling like loafer tassels on either side. A hum of exclamation came from the native coterie.
"Don't nobody laugh," ordered Dave as he strapped his P90 back over his chest. "Look like you are impressed. They gotta buy this."
"Will not that tape hurt upon removal, Colonel?" asked Teal'c, shoving his uniform into his backpack.
Dixon shrugged, "Probably. Duct tape isn't for pantywaists."
The warrior chief gesticulated with his spear and shouted again. "He says take it off," Rodney advised his mildly insane team leader.
"Tell him he's not worthy. Say I'm your head man and I'll only show it to his head man," Dixon said, striking a match on one grenade as he lit up his cigar.
McKay sighed and translated as best he could, wishing from the contemptuous look of the native that he'd continued taking those Enzyte pills for a few months longer.
They bought it.
With a gesture that said 'this way,' the native leader turned and led down the trail. His warriors fell in around the naked offworlders who had strapped on their weapons again and shouldered their packs, falling in line as they carefully picked their way in bare feet along the path.
"All it would take is a simple puncture wound on the bottom of my foot to pick up some strange alien bacteria that eats it way through my body in the matter of hours. I wasn't kidding about the hazard pay, Colonel," Rodney complained, mincing along carefully.
"Aw, quit your belly aching woman," sneered Dixon, grenades making a musical thunky-thunk as he strode after the native chief. "Like you had anything else to do today."
"Hey, I turned down a very attractive position at NASA, I'll have you know."
Dixon removed the cigar to flick some ashes causing Rodney to flinch. "Yeah, I've seen that position. The one where you get down on all fours and beg for your life. I like you in that one too."
"It was only that one time," screeched Rodney, "and as I remember, we were all on our knees…"
"Yeah, yeah…"
Behind them, Martouf commented, "Dr. McKay seems to have lost some weight."
Sheppard agreed, "I switched out his power bars for some low-carb ones. Then again, he's been having some trouble keeping the MRE's down. You don't think he's getting bulimic, do you?"
"I would doubt it. We are also having difficulty keeping those meals in our stomach. However, in Dr. McKay's case, I would guess the sheer terror of serving with Colonel Dixon is enough to cause chronic gastrointestinal upset."
John shrugged. "That explains a lot about Rodney, but not why the Colonel smells like that."
*****************************
The village appeared to be a random grouping of rounded thatched huts. The rest of the inhabitants were gathered in a central space and in their midst, on a throne like structure, was a naked and very tired-looking Dr. Jackson, sans even glasses.
"Teal'c? Is that you?" he asked as soon as they were within speaking distance.
"It is, DanielJackson and I have brought Major Sheppard along as you requested, along with the rest of SG15," said Teal'c. "Are you well?"
"Exhausted, but I'm okay. Major Sheppard, I'm sorry to drag you into this but I needed an…impressive man to deal with this group and you were the first to come to mind."
"You'll pardon me if I don't thank you and I'm not asking, so you don't have to tell me how you happened to notice my…uh…attributes. However, Col. Dixon has arranged to become far more impressive than I am. Impressive down to his knees as a matter of fact."
Daniels eyebrows shot up in amazement, and then he leaned forward, squinting. "Uh, yeah. Impressive. Are those grenades?"
"Damn straight!" chortled Dixon, gesturing with his cigar, causing a spray of glowing ashes to rain down on his team. "Now where's that largest guy I'm supposed to talk to?"
From out of one hut came a tall warrior, decorated in the brightest feathers they'd seen yet, with one of the largest attributes any of them had ever seen. Painted bright red, it was hard to miss, without it even being hard. He wore a necklace of sparkly rocks and woven bracelets decorated both arms. At his side, a handsome young servant carried what was probably his not-very-subtle sign of office, a huge spear.
The Headman strutted grandly across the compound to face the off-worlders, then he smacked the head of his servant who stopped grinning long enough to step forward, upright the spear and thump it on the ground in front of them.
"This is Qu'nn, the speaker for the tribe of the Kels," Dr. Jackson introduced him. "He does all of the Headman's talking. He's kind of a diplomat, scholar and lackey-of-all-trades. It's his job to memorize all the tribal history."
Dixon crossed his arms and glared at the Headman. "I ain't talking with Wee Little Winkie here, buddy. It's you and me."
As if he understood the bravado, the Headman made a gesture, spoke and looked to Jackson to translate. "He wants to see," Jackson said.
"Tell him he's not worthy. Tell him I can see he's only half the man I am."
Jackson paled. "Colonel, these are warriors and I don't think a bluff is going to work here."
"Tell him," Dixon grinned, tossing his still burning cigar over one shoulder. "I got me a plan."
Jackson sighed and spoke to the Headman who promptly laughed and said something back. "He says prove it."
Dixon set his pack down and shook himself all over, making the grenades thunk again. Then he closed his eyes and made an odd noise as he held out his hands straight in front of him. Slowly, the sock began to rise.
The natives made small sounds of awe as they shuffled in for a closer look. The Headman looked disconcerted and Jackson leaned further forward, squinting even harder. Up and up it rose, and with every inch, the men grew louder as they encouraged and probably, placed bets.
"How is he doing that?" Rodney said, his eyes nearly bugged out.
"I don't know," John gulped, "and I don't ever want to find out."
Martouf smiled. "I think I know."
Rodney shook his head, "I'm so not taking those socks back."
Finally perpendicular to his body, the sock covering stopped and Dixon opened his eyes. The Headman looked angry and his people were looking discontent with their leader. Suddenly a little voice spoke out. "I am the greatest!" it shouted. "I am the biggest!"
The natives fell back in amazement, some falling to the ground on their knees. The voice was definitely coming from the sock.
"You must obey me!" commanded the sock. "Drinks on the house!"
Dixon pointed to Jackson. Looking at his now disillusioned people, the Headman snarled an order and gestured at Jackson. "He says I can go. He'd like us all to leave," said Jackson as he slowly rose and stumbled towards them, taking Teal'c proffered arm to steady himself.
"I bet," commented John.
A group of the natives all began to shout as Dixon turned to take up his pack and join his group, his sock banging into Rodney's leg.
McKay yelped, "Can you make that go back down?"
"Not for a while, sister, unless you'd like to help," he leered.
"Not me, but I think any of those guys wouldn't mind helping. They want you to stay."
"It's their way," Jackson explained. "They figure the biggest is the strongest and the smartest."
"Well, we know that's not true," Rodney carped.
"Do we?" asked Shepard, blatantly looking down first at Rodney, then himself.
"It's cold here," Rodney answered. "I feel a definite chill."
"Right."
The Headman spoke again, this time taking his spear and offering it to Dixon.
"Thanks, but no thanks, little man. I got me a P90 that will take out a monkey's eye a mile away."
The Headman obviously understood the head shaking and other gestures as Dixon refused the job and began to walk away. Taking the necklace off, he held it out.
"He's thanking you," Rodney translated.
"It's a gift. Take it," Jackson said, "but carry it gently."
Then Jackson said something to the man who grunted and cradled his spear in his arms. Dixon slipped the rock string over his head and waved goodbye as they headed for the trail back to the Stargate.
"You said we'd be back to trade for more rocks, didn't you Dr. Jackson," asked Rodney. "What kind of rocks are those?"
"They refer to it as naquadria. It's used as currency among the warriors," Jackson answered tiredly, "It seems to be a more volatile version of naquadah."
Rodney stopped. "Volatile? As in likes to explode at the least provocation?"
"It's okay. It's still in a raw state and would have to be refined more before it becomes unstable. According to the speaker, Qu'nn, they had a more advanced civilization at one time, but warring factions used the ore to make some kind of bomb and blew them all back into the Stone Age. It's his job to remember the verbal history stories so they won't repeat the mistake. Of course, it does give off some radiation, but not enough to harm anyone for this short a time. However if one of those grenades went off, it would enhance the explosion…."
McKay, Sheppard and Martouf all backed swiftly away from their team leader. "What?" he asked. "Geeze, what a bunch of girls."
Swiftly detaching the two grenades, he tossed them to Sheppard and Martouf. "There, I'm safe now."
They looked at one another. "Not really, sir, but I suppose this will have to do for now," Sheppard said, tucking the grenade into his pack.
As they started back up the trail, McKay asked Jackson why the natives had held him. "Apparently, the long term exposure to their jewelry has made many of the men sterile so I think they were planning to use me as a source of backup DNA for the meeting with the women's village."
This time Dixon stopped. "You mean…maybe I should go back for a while, ya know, just for diplomatic relations and all."
"Planning to sock it to them, sir?" asked Sheppard with a wide grin.
Jackson said, "Please, can we go home now?"
Martouf nudged Sheppard. "What did I say…Intergalactic Ho."
***********************
Their arrival back at SGC caused some commotion as they were in too great a hurry to re-dress before gating through. Later, re-briefed or re-boxered as the case was for some, they were debriefed in the conference room with O'Neill and Carter sitting in.
After hearing Dixon's story, the room sat in stunned silence until Carter finally spoke up, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. "But the voice?"
"Ventriloquism. Learned it as a kid," Dixon said proudly. "I use it to get free drinks all the time."
From under the table came a small voice, "Drinks on the house! Okay, who farted?" followed by a juicy raspberry.
"Wow," commented Sam. "That's…talent."
"So, let me get this straight," O'Neill said, "Basically, you were rescued by a sock puppet?"
The end
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 04:17 am (UTC)you need to add this "lj-cut" to the beginning of the text and "/lj-cut" to the end of the text. but replace the quotation marks with the open and close symbols < >
no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 05:51 am (UTC)