(& Jennifer Hailey) in...
WORK OF BONDAGE FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2007
For notes and
information about STARGÅTE
SG-1 and NEW characters
used in this
follow the link below, and use your browser's Back
feature to return.
said, quietly, "I lost my sidearm."
Janet swiveled her head and glared
"Okay, okay," Sam said with a smile, "I mean close, or did it go
flying as we fell?"
"Flying," Janet sighed.
Sam sighed as well, then started groping through the mud.
gotta try," she said.
For the next several minutes they thoroughly acquainted
the thick, creamy mud of the immediate area. Janet's
"Enough is enough," Sam said, finally. "Don't worry, I'll
your loss report when we get back."
"Very funny," Janet said, with a weak smile. "I'm more
about needing the pistol to help us get
"Not to worry," Sam responded, with a chuckle. "I'll loan
you my—" her grin
abruptly faded. "My zat's gone too!" Sam had taken
carrying one of the SGC's many captured zats strapped to her
thigh. The non-leathal stun feature of the strange,
pistol made it a useful tool, but like much of the Goa'ulds'
technology, zats were designed to impress and intimidate, with
utility as an afterthought. The specially fabricated zat
were a compromise between rapid-draw and security, and this
security had lost. Sam could feel the empty holster's
safety straps. "I guess you can endorse my loss report,
Janet smiled, sweetly. "I don't know, Sam. Losing a
"Shuddup!" Sam responded with a laugh, then nodded towards the
platform. "Let's see if
we can climb up there and get our bearings."
They sloshed and dragged themselves to the platform. Its
were dressed stone. Horizontal watermarks and rings of
suggested a history of seasonal flooding, and it would appear
swamp was currently at the "dry" phase of its cycle. The
the platform wall was only about four meters above the current
the swamp, but they might as well have been trying to scale a
tower. Starting from deep
semi-liquid muck, they just couldn't make the climb, even when
tried to give Janet a leg up. And there was nothing in the
suitable for rigging a ladder.
"Well," Sam said, "let's find some higher ground and dry
Maybe I can find a branch suitable for a grappling hook and we
back. I need to inspect that arch."
Janet lifted a dripping brown arm from the muck and pointed to
side. "It looks marginally higher over there," she said,
least, from down here."
"From up here, too," Sam said, with a grin.
"Remind me to do something terrible to you, later," Janet
"Deal!" Sam chuckled, and they started sloshing, crawling, and
their way through the mud, in the direction indicated.
haven't seen my cap, have you?" she asked.
Janet's cap was still on her head. "It's over by my
your zat," the
doctor answered with a muddy grin.
"That's what I was afraid of," Sam sighed, and continued
with grim determination.
"Sam," Janet said, quietly, "we don't know that they're dead."
"I know," Sam answered. They struggled along for several
meters. "Deep spot."
Sam fished through the mud until she found a handhold on Janet's
her up. "I said—'deep spot'."
Janet coughed, sputtered, and glared. "A little sooner
warnings from now on, okay?"
"I'll try," Sam grinned. "C'mon. I think the ground
is higher up ahead."
eyes, when squeezed them tightly closed. The
light hurt. Everything
had a headache that wouldn't quit, and she was lying at an
angle on something hard, and the ropes were digging into her
opened her eyes and blinked, ignoring the pain. Ropes??
She was in a spherical cage of iron bars. Her arms were
behind her back and her wrists and arms were lashed to her upper
by a tight, symmetrical web of braided rope. Her ankles
bound as well, as were the insteps of her feet and her big
And she was naked—totally and
cage was about three-meters in diameter, and there was
gate-like hatch on one side, secured with what appeared to be a
padlock. The closely-spaced bars
were at least
an inch thick, and were horizontally braced at regular
It was like being on the inside of a heavy, wire-form globe.
Beyond the bars was a jungle encampment—small cooking
camouflaged tarps rigged as lean-tos and canopies, bundles of
supplies—and moving about the
camp were at least a dozen women. It was difficult to get
accurate count, both because of Hailey's headache, and because
the females were of similar size and appearance. It didn't
that they were all identically
could call what amounted to bikinis, camouflage bodypaint, and
All of the women were brunette, and were armed with knives and
probably the energy weapons that had been used in the
Hailey watched her captors for several seconds. All had
a beach volleyball team gone to war,
mused. She craned her neck and continued her cautious
observation. There was no sign of her SF's or Sam and
Janet—as fellow captives,
in any other capacity.
"She's awake," a voice announced.
Hailey snapped her head back—Ow!—to find one of
female warriors unlocking the door of her cage. "Who—Why am I a
The warrior reached in, grabbed a handful of Hailey's bonds,
her to the
door, then seized her by the hair and pulled back her
"Quiet, war-slave," she growled. She then used her teeth
stopper from a small leather flask, and began pouring its liquid
contents into Hailey's mouth.
Hailey did her best to resist. "No!" she gasped, coughing
A second warrior appeared and helped the first by pinching
nose shut with one hand and clamping her chin with the
Meanwhile, the first warrior forced the hard mouth of the flask
Hailey's teeth and squeezed a healthy dose of the bitter liquid
the captive's throat. She then tossed the now empty flask
and sealed Hailey's lips with a firm hand-gag.
Hailey had no choice but to swallow. She kicked her bound
and tried to break free, but her captors were too strong.
"Squirmy little sleen-cub, isn't she?" one of the warriors
just medicine to ease the effects of the stun-blast."
Hailey's nose and mouth were released, and she coughed and
gasped. Whatever they had given her, it seemed to be
fast-working. Her headache was already fading. "We—we're peaceful
explorers," she panted. "There's no need to..." She
her head, trying to concentrate. "Where are my
Let me see my—m'mmf!"
One of the warriors had stuffed a distressingly large wad of
of soft cloth
into Hailey's mouth, while the other dropped what amounted to a
harness-gag over her head. It had a thick leather strap
cleaved her lips and forced the stuffing back in her
suede panel covered her lower face from just below her nostrils
under her chin, and several thin straps encircled her head and
throat. The warriors secured the buckles
of the gag's numerous straps, forcing her jaws to
bite down on the wad in her mouth and pressing
tightly against her lips. They then
locked the cage door.
"Where are your men,
Sleen-cub?" one of the warriors sneered.
"We're sending them back to where they came from, of
their kind are allowed on PelluciGor."
Hailey's eyes popped wide and she forced a mewling, well-muffled
protest past her
gag. They couldn't send her men back through the stargate,
Unless they received the proper
G.D.O. code, the SGC wouldn't open the titanium iris protecting
and the SF's bodies wouldn't be able to rematerialize at the far
wormhole! They'd be
killed! She tried to shout through her gag, again, but the
already turned away... and her vision was beginning to
pain was gone... but... Drugged,
realized. Apparently, the "medicine" she'd received did
than cure a headache. My
keep my eyes open... Can't stay... awake.
One of the warriors turned her head and looked back over her
shoulder. Caged, naked, bound, and now gagged, Hailey was
"Don't even think about it," the other said. "If Kyna
playing with her, you'll get squad punishment."
Her companion laughed. "Hmm... It might be worth it, to
crack at an un-trained pleasure-slave. The kajirae at the
regimental brothel are all so... docile."
The gate alarm
CMSgt Harriman's voice echoed throughout the SGC.
off-world activation! General Landry to the control room!"
"What have we got, Walter?" Landry asked as he descended the
from his office. Through the window to the gate room he
that the gate was active. The iris was closed, as per
but blue light from the wormhole's event horizon was dancing on
wall behind the gate.
"It's P69-758, General," Harriman answered, nodding at his
display, "Colonel Carter's mission;
only there's no radio or telemetry."
Landry frowned, then thumbed the microphone attached to the
console. "Colonel Carter, are you there? Colonel
Carter?" He turned and looked at Harriman.
"No G.D.O. code has been received," he confirmed. "Nothing has been received."
Suddenly, a female voice crackled over the radio link.
instruments tell us you are attempting to block the
Remove the barrier, immediately!"
Landry frowned. "Chap'ai" was the Goa'uld word for
it was a commonly used term throughout the galaxy. Perhaps
woman was a Goa'uld, and perhaps not. In either case, if
technology that could detect the iris protecting the stargate,
people were very advanced.
Landry. We will not remove our... 'barrier' until we
ascertain your intentions. With whom am I speaking?"
"No man may come to PelluciGor," the unknown woman intoned,
Landry's question. She continued speaking, but
apparently to another audience. "Offset the destination
send them through."
The rippling light behind the iris changed color from blue to
the same time, an alarm sounded from Harriman's console and his
flashed red. "UNKNOWN ERROR—431" was
in a new window.
"431," Harriman read. "That's one of the unmapped signal
paths." Not having a DHD, the SGC had been forced to
their own computer interface to control the stargate, and
signal channels of no known function had been
bypassed in the
Down in the gate room, there was a green flash in front of the
iris. Simultaneously, three figures
appeared on the ramp. They were the SF's of Carter's
team, and they rolled down the metal incline as if they'd been
the stargate from the far end. Their weapons, vests, and
were missing, they appeared to
be unconscious, and they were bound with rope, hand and
Landry hit a selector switch and keyed the microphone.
team to the gate room. In the gate room: clear the ramp,
Several members of the gate room security force slung their
began dragging the SF's off the ramp. The remainder
kept their weapons trained on the gate.
Landry hit the selector switch, again. "With respect, let
speak to Colonel
Carter," he asked.
"Heed my words," the female voice intoned. "No man may
PelluciGor. You are no longer ignorant. You have
warned. Death to all that follow!"
"Let me speak to Colonel Carter—to any of my
officers," Landry demanded.
Abruptly, the wormhole disengaged. At the same time, a
alarm sounded from the control console. "Another unknown
General," Harriman said.
"Get them back," Landry growled.
Harriman typed the P69-758 gate address into the computer.
gate began to turn, then all the chevrons flashed red and
sounded. "The gate's not responding, General. I'm
diagnostic." He tapped several keys, and a series of
flashed on the monitor. "It's not the dialing computer,
General. The gate's buffer
is refusing the address."
"Whoever these people are," Landry said, "they know more about
gate technology than we do...
possibly more than the Goa'uld or the Tok'ra." He put his
on Harriman's shoulder. "Walter, channel 431 just became
first priority. Figure out how they got past the iris—and fix
it. Use every scientist on the base and at Area 51, if you
them. Next time, they could send a bomb."
"Yes, sir," Harriman said. "I just
Colonel Carter were here," he continued, shaking his head.
"Because she's our greatest expert in gate technology?" Landry
Harriman turned and looked up at the General.
Landry gave Harriman's shoulder a squeeze. "Enough with
puppy-dog pout, Walter," he ordered, a smile softening the
rebuke. "It's not like it's the first time she's gone
off-world. We'll get Colonel Carter back—and Major
"Yes, sir," Harriman sighed, and began typing at his keyboard.
Down in the gate room, the medical team had arrived and was
now untied, but still unconscious, SF's onto gurneys, for
the SGC's hospital.
Landry turned and headed for his office. "I have some
calls to make," he said as he climbed the stairs. "The
isn't our only option."
NEAR THE SWAMP
The ground was higher
in the direction Sam and Janet had chosen. They came to
could almost be called dry
after only about a
hundred meters. Negotiating a thicket of brush, they
clearing, looked up, and could finally confirm that they were
P69-758. The gas
giant hung in the sky, and one of the system's twin suns were
of its huge disk.
"We'll have half-eclipse in about three hours," Sam observed.
"Let me see if I have this right," Janet said, as they slogged
along. "Full-day means two suns in the sky, half-eclipse
one sun behind the gas giant, full eclipse
means both suns, and night means... night?"
"Correct," Sam confirmed. "The day-night cycle is—"
"About 36 hours," Janet interrupted, "and the eclipse cycle
80. I didn't sleep through the entire mission briefing. The result
is semi-random periods of light, half-light, and
dark, varying from six to ten hours."
It's not 'semi-random'," Sam responded. "There's a
straightforward Fourier series that describes the
pattern. Take the integral from t-1 to t-2, where—"
Janet interrupted her with a raised hand. "Ah-ah-ah!
mental calculus! I'm wet and filthy and don't need a
top of it all. In any case..." she nodded at the sky,
"...that celestial dance is going to play
hell with our diurnal cycles."
"We'll adapt," Sam responded, then pointed ahead. "Look!"
Through the trees across the clearing they could see a jagged
face. They continued forward and came to a
jumble of loose rubble at the base of a very tall, very vertical
was hundreds of meters in height, and stretched
to either side, as far as they could see.
"I think we can climb a little higher over there," Sam said,
left. They picked their way up the slope until they were
the treetops, then surveyed their surroundings.
The cliff formed a complete circle, several kilometers in
diameter. They were at the bottom of what was either an ancient
caldera of an extinct volcano. There didn't
appear to be any breaks in the wall of the cliff, and the floor of the
was a patchwork of swamp, forest, and small lakes. Several
waterfalls poured into the crater from above, and in the
beyond the clifftop,
they could see the jagged peaks of a range of mountains.
"What you say to a shower?" Janet asked, pointing to the nearest
"Good idea," Sam answered, lifting her muck-encrusted P90.
to clean this thing before we meet more of whoever or whatever ambushed
back at the gate."
into a pool of clear
a grassy clearing. The clearing, in turn, was surrounded by
forest of tall trees with gnarled branches. Off to one side, the ruined
of several large canopies hung from sagging ropes that stretched
between the trees. The material was chamois-like in
color from light tan to medium brown. The jagged sheets
in the breeze, like the ragged banners of some long-forgotten
Janet reached up and tugged on one of the lower remnants.
think this stuff is synthetic," she said, "or
chemically treated cloth. It's not tanned leather, that's
sure, and it doesn't
seem to be rotten or sun-damaged."
"Wind damage," Sam said, scanning the trees with the P90 at the
ready. "Years of
damage. Whoever rigged all this, I don't think they've
around for a very long time. We'll do a recon,
of the area revealed no other signs of human habitation or
visitation. Several game trails led into the trees, and
there were numerous sets of small animal tracks around the
they found nothing, other than the
ruined canopies, to suggest the
presence of anything
large or intelligent.
Remaining alert, Sam and Janet cleaned the majority of the mud
their vests and gear with
handfuls of leaves and grass, then removed their uniforms and
boots. Clad in only their military brown panties and bras,
stood guard with the P90 while Janet rinsed their clothing in
pool. They used the survival cord from their vests to rig
side of the clearing with the most
sunlight. Soon, their now reasonably clean pants, shirts,
socks, vests, and web belts were hanging on the line or dangling
Sam separated her survival knife and shelter-half from her gear,
grabbed Janet's knife as well, and ambled back to the
spread the camouflaged shelter-half on the grass, like a picnic
blanket, then broke down the P90 and laid out the pieces.
quickly, she used a
swab from the cleaning kit to give everything a protective
oil, then reassembled the weapon and snapped in a fresh
P90 ready at her side, Sam rinsed the knives and their leather
then used the still oily swab to carefully wipe down the keen
the blades. She looked up, and smiled.
Janet was standing under the cascading water, using her fingers
last of the swamp from her hair. The diminutive doctor
her panties and bra
and rinsed them under the stream as well. She looked at
grinned. "This is great! Cool, but not cold."
tossed her balled-up underwear to Sam, then held out her
"Gimme your skivvies!"
"What?" Sam asked, then dropped Janet's underwear on a corner of
the shelter-half. The sopping wad landed with a wet plop.
"Your panties and bra. As long as you insist on standing
against alien Dinocrocs and the like, and I get to be
Charwoman, I might as well do a good job. C'mon, Sam,
gimme. That way everything will be dry at once."
"Can't argue with logic," Sam responded, stood, and
She tossed her muddy underwear to Janet, knelt and retrieved the
then watched as her friend rinsed her intimate garments
clean, rubbing them together to dislodge any stubborn grime.
Dripping but clean, clad only in her dog tags and watch, Janet
retrieved her underwear, then padded
across the clearing and
hung both sets on the clothesline. She then strolled back
Sam. "You're relieved,"
she said, and
possession of the P90.
Sam stepped into the pool and sloshed to the
scrubbed the mud from her feet and legs,
torso, arms, shoulders, neck, and face; then, massaged her hair
as clean as she could get without soap or shampoo, she emerged
under the splashing cascade. Janet was watching the tree
the cliff, weapon at the
ready, slowly turning in a full circle.
The light had diminished, half-eclipse having passed some
earlier, but the light from the single, remaining sun was still
times brighter than the light of a full moon on earth.
Sam waded ashore, then began wiping the excess water from her
body with her hands. "Can I borrow your towel?" she asked.
Janet laughed. "It's over by—"
know—it's over by your pistol and my zat and cap." Sam
hair, slicking it back. "Actually, our towels are in our
packs, lashed to a rack
on the ATV back
at the stargate. We gotta start thinking about food."
Janet's expression was suddenly sober. "Sam," she said,
"if we don't get back—"
back!" Sam interrupted.
"If we don't get back,"
continued, "Cassie will be all right, won't she?" Cassie was
adopted daughter and Sam's chess buddy.
Sam smiled. "Mama Fraiser" was just looking for
don't get back, General Landry will take care of her.
start college next year, as planned, and life will go on."
"Without me... or you." Janet's eyes were welling.
"None of that," Sam whispered, put her hands on her friend's
leaned forward, and kissed her forehead.
Janet's lips curled in a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," she
whispered. "I know I'm being
silly. I just had to
hear it... out loud."
"I know," Sam answered, and took a step back.
"Oh great," Janet muttered, using her left hand to brush away
that had been transferred from
Sam's still dripping body. "Now I'm
Sam laughed and took possession of the P90, then pointed at the
still drying on the shelter half. "Keep your knife with
times," she ordered,
"'til our stuff dries."
"Sam!" Janet said, a suddenly worried
tone in voice, "what
Sam followed Janet's wide-eyed gaze—then did a
and went down on
one knee, P90 at the ready with the safety off. Uniforms,
underwear, vests, web gear—even
of their clothing and equipment