STARGATE SG-1: Oceans of Dust by Peter J. Evans Read Free Book Online Page A

flying in the blast. He reached over to grab it, but then noticed that the magazine was gone, ejected or broken off. He threw the useless thing aside.
    Teal’c appeared above him, reaching down to haul him upright. “Are you harmed?”
    “I’m fine,” he croaked. “What the hell hit us?”
    The Jaffa pointed, towards the temple. O’Neill saw a tiny sliver of dark metal in the sky, turning, executing a tight curve under the cloud layer. The screaming sound had faded, but he knew that respite was only temporary.
    He keyed his radio. “Carter?”
    “—
on out there? Colonel O’Neill, where
—”
    “Calm down, Major. I’m right here.”
    “
Where’s ‘here’, sir?
”
    “Out in the damned open, that’s where.” He and Teal’c had made it almost all the way to the buildings before the attack came; when he glanced back to the Tel’tak, it seemed very far away. The ship that had attacked him was already several kilometers beyond the temple, but racing closer with every second. Neither direction seemed a good choice.
    Then he remembered who was in the buildings between him and the onrushing fighter, and started running again, Teal’c in close pursuit.
    “
What’s out there?
” That was Daniel. There was a staccato timbre to his voice that spoke of furious activity. “
We just heard shots, we didn’t
—”
    “Death glider.” It was close enough now to be unmistakable; a glossy crescent howling down out of the sky towards him. As soon as he had spoken the machine unleashed its energies a second time; O’Neill saw gouts of fire spitting from its cannons.
    He dived for cover, throwing himself behind a boulder.
    There was a whiplash impact as a shot hit the rock, an ear-splitting din of frozen stone superheating and exploding away in lethal shards, and bolts of fire were ripping past as the glider fired over and over into the plateau. O’Neill felt the punch of each blast through his boots, through his bleeding hands as he crouched.
    A shadow crossed him, viciously quick, as the glider hammered through the air over his head, and he heard the electric whoop of a staff weapon as Teal’c sent darts of energy lashing up into the sky. A shot connected, spattered uselessly off a wing.
    The glider flew level for a second or two, then rose into a smooth, almost vertical climb, accelerated into a blur. In a heartbeat it was lost to the clouds.
    “Damn,” muttered O’Neill, getting up. He was starting to hurt all over. “That turned up fast.”
    Teal’c had been down on one knee, trying to get a better aim at the fighter. He rose, slowly, eyes on the churning whorl of cloud the machine had left in its wake. “If the glider arrived in response to the distress beacon, it must have already been close to this world. It is likely that a mothership is in this system, searching for the Tel’tak.”
    “And now they’ve found it. Thanks to us.”
    “Gliders may have been searching every nearby world. O’Neill, we do not have much time.”
    “No kidding.” He turned away, towards the temple, and saw greasy smoke twisting into the air. “
Dammit!
Teal’c!”
    He could hear voices, now that the death glider and its banshee screeching was gone from the sky. Even through the biting wind, shouts drifted across the plateau. He couldn’t make out words; the gale was robbing the sounds of all but raw emotion. But that was enough. There was suffering in those voices. There was anger, and distress, and pain.
    There was screaming. High, thin shrieks of agony came to him through the storm.
    O’Neill and Teal’c were inside the complex within half a minute, and when they ran past the outer ring of buildings the source of the voices became instantly plain. As soon as O’Neill saw the tableau, his heart shrank in his chest.
    No matter how much tragedy he had seen in his life, the universe always seemed intent on furnishing him with more.
    One of the structures, a small two-story building just outside the temple dome, had