ten_fwd | OTA - Arrival

Of all the fool damn things he’s done over the years, Jack is pretty sure that diving into icy cold water is way, way up on the list. McKay needs him to drain the jumper bay and apparently the only way to do that is to dive down there, look around for some switch, and flip it. McKay seems to think it’s pretty obvious but apparently Jack’s having an obtuse day - none of these controls seem obvious in any sense of the word.

The cold seeps in almost down to his bones and his lungs are burning from lack of air. He can hold his breath for a decent amount of time but he’s got no idea which of these switches he’s supposed to be pushing or pulling. Nothing to do but go back up and bark at McKay until he can give him a better description of what is and isn’t obvious on Atlantis. Damn Ancients. Why couldn’t it have been one of those ATA activated things where he could just think “open” from up on the ground, dry, and skirt around this whole mess?

When he breaks the surface again, Woolsey is there looking all expectant-like and Jack wishes like hell he had something to tell him. Thing is, he doesn’t and Woolsey isn’t the one he needs to talk to anyway.

“Did you do it?” Jack shakes his head and holds out his palm. “Radio.” Woolsey hands it over with a minimum of fuss but he’s still hovering and Jack knows that he’ll have to feed him something just to keep him from panicking and revealing their position. First things first, he’s got to talk to McKay.

“McKay. You and I have very different definitions of the word obvious.” McKay squawks a little, out of his element, and Jack interrupts him. “There are dozens of controls down there and I wouldn’t even know how to describe.” Still, he and McKay come to some kind of consensus that the emergency switch should be toward the middle of the console and extremely prominent. Jack hopes, for everyone’s sake, that he’s right.

He’s not really fond of going back in the water but a little cold water’s hardly the worst thing he’s faced in twenty plus years of a decorated military career. If Sheppard and his team can pull off this rescue, it will have been more than worth it for Jack to get hypothermia and frostbite. More than worth it. He takes in a deep breath and goes back under, swimming to the center of the room and pushing at a likely switch.

It seems to be draining the room, so Jack releases it, only to see the water rush back in. Great. One more trip topside to inform McKay that he’s a complete idiot and he’s back in the water again, hopefully for the last time. He pushes at the switch and ignores the burn in his lungs, ignores the way his vision goes black around the edges. When everything starts feeling fuzzy and he feels light-headed, he keeps holding on, knowing that everyone’s fate pretty much depends on Sheppard and the rest of them getting into Atlantis to take it back from these damn replicators.

He focuses on that, the rescue, and it feels like time slows down and he’s suspended for a little while. The big difference is that he feels like he’s sprawled out on a flat surface and while he’s wet and cold, it doesn’t feel like he’s underwater anymore. He gasps in a deep breath, chokes on it, and spends the next few seconds coughing and sputtering and wondering where in the galaxy he’s wound up. Replicators. Of course. Like as not, he’s in a room somewhere with some alien’s hand in his head and none of this is even real. When he hears footsteps, he decides to go on the offensive.

“Look. You’re not getting anything from me. Hell, I don’t even know anything. You captured the wrong guy if you wanna know how to get from Pegasus to Milky Way because I don’t even know how the damn gate works, much less that bridge Carter and McKay dreamed up. Completely out of luck.”

There. That should satisfy them, right?

[[Jack is sprawled out in a hallway after having been winked aboard by Q. He is also soaking wet :)]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After running around, well orbing around, all over the ship after a little power mishap (seriously, how does that even happen on a ship this big? Don't they have backups or something?), Chris was just happy to see someone who wasn't his charge. All those people in his head were giving him a headache.

What he needed was alcohol. Real alcohol. Which wouldn't normally be a problem except he was pretty sure all of the guests on the ship had the same idea. And of course there was the whole 'if it came from the replicators, it was fake booze' thing.

Chris was walking down the hallway for some hopefully real beer and something to eat after all that orbing, when he came across a very wet older man lying in the hallway.

"You know, of all the things on my mind right now, trying to get from one galaxy to another really wasn't on my list. You know what was? Cheeseburger. Why do these things always happen to me?" Chris muttered, crossing his arms and debating leaning over to help the man up.

The Whitelighter-Witch finally leaned over to help the soaking wet man up. "You probably need some new clothes." Cause Chris really didn't want to walk down the hallway with guy's shoes squishing all the way. That and he really didn't know who was responsible for cleanup on this ship.

"Since when does a Replicator care about clothes?" Jack isn't particularly in the mood to go back and forth with another Replicator but he is willing to give it a shot that maybe, just maybe, this guy is a human.

"You guys aren't particularly known for the hospitality business." More like the sticking-their-hand-in-your-head-stealing-info business.

"Um, do I look like a replicator?" Chris gave the wet hallway guy a 'what the fuck' look. "And I'm pretty sure replicators can do clothes. Just not weapons. If I'm remembering the speech the security guy gave."

Chris shook his head. Why was he even still here? This was like the one guy on the ship he so far didn't have to care about. But knowing him and his luck, that would probably change and he'd end up with yet another charge. He had like 20. Paige had 2. That was totally fair.

"Replicators are human form robots so...yeah? You could totally be a Replicator."

Jack isn't sure where the breakdown in communication is but he's beginning to think this guy, at least, is human. Replicators tend to like to evil laugh and share their plans. They're not that bright.

"Uh, no. Replicators are those things in the wall that produce food and clothing and things. Don't ask me how, I don't know. Nor do I care, actually. And for your information? Totally not a robot. But hey, keep thinking that way if it makes you feel better. I still think you might want to get some dry clothes. Unless you think it might magically make you into a robot or something."

Chris gave him a look.

Jack holds up his hands and whistles a little. Clearly a human, clearly a language barrier and clearly he is not where he thought he was.

"So I'm not on Atlantis? Big huge ship, Pegasus galaxy? Because if I'm not, that might explain a hell of a lot of things."

His shoes are leaking water and he wonders if it's a good idea to keep sitting around in wet clothes. Probably not.

"Big ship. You got that part right. Where we are? Haven't got a clue. Ship's called the Enterprise and someone named Q, who seems to have a lot of power and not a lot of common sense, has been kidnapping people since he find's it hilarious. So, congratulations. You've been kidnapped."

Chris held out a hand."I'm Chris Halliwell. Again, not a robot."

"Jack O'Neill," he says, gratefully taking his hand. "Also not a robot, so that's two for two today. So, where can I get something dry? Because I'm squishing all over the damn place and it's pretty unbecoming of an officer."

If Daniel or Carter could see him right now, he's pretty sure they'd be in stitches laughing.

Chris looked him over briefly before grabbing his hand. "You look about the same height as me." And he orbed the both of them to his quarters.

"Feel free to grab something from my closet, or I can show you how the replicator works." The Whitelighter-Witch watched the General, hoping he wasn't going to be sick all over the floor or something.

"Army? Navy?"

"Air Force," Jack says, patting around his middle a little. "Same height but probably not the same distance around the middle. Desk job, you know. Does a number."

He's not overweight, per se, but he's also not in lean, mean fighting form either.

"I guess I can give your version of a Replicator a shot as long as you promise it isn't going to try to kill me."

"I promise it totally wont kill you. Unless you order something that will fit a toddler and try to fit into it. Here. " Chris went over to the replicator and showed Jack how to use it.

"I got a bit lucky at least. Orbing burns a lot of calories and I've been jumping all around the ship lately." Chris disapeared for a moment, ducking in the bathroom before coming back with a towel, and threw it at him. "That will probably help to. What were you doing before you got here anyway?"

"Trying not to get killed," Jack says, gratefully taking the towel and drying off some before ordering some clothes out of the contraption. It's pretty neat, all told, but he's still a little wary of machines at the moment.

He takes a minute to go to the bathroom himself and get changed and while the clothes aren't his uniform, they're serviceable. That's all he needs.

"My ship had been hijacked by a particularly nasty form of robot. I was trying to get rid of them but they'd flooded part of it, so. You can see what happened there."

OTA - Arrival

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