Right, back to this one now!


Jack watched as Mac paused and kneeled to scan the ground, Teal’c at his side, apparently doing the same.

He wanted to say something sarcastic, something to break the moment and even maybe break the ice with the other man.

He’d never admit it, of course, but Jack liked this double of his, even if he did have strange ideas about guns and violence.

“How far they get?” O’Neill eventually asked, when nothing more suitable came to mind.

Mac stood up and pointed into the distance, where there were quite obviously several clearings. “It looks like they’re heading for the new version of “MacGyverland”, even if they don’t know it yet.”

Jack pulled a face. “MacGyver what?”

“It’s a training ground I used to run for the foundation, or at least the old version was. I don’t exactly work here anymore.”

“And this helps us how, Mr. MacGyver?” Teal’c raised a brow, sombre as ever.

“Firstly, it’s Mac…and I think if we can head them off, then maybe we can lure them into a trap. There are a couple of large pits in the ground over there we could maybe use as makeshift jails.” MacGyver shielded his eyes from the sun that was filtering through the trees and looked in the direction he’d indicated.

Teal’c cocked his head. “And how do you propose to trick them, Mr. Mac? Jaffa are not easily fooled.”

“Oh I’m sure he has something fun and non violent up his sleeve, don’tcha Mr. Mac?” O’Neill teased.

MacGyver didn’t rise to the bait. “I was thinking of making a smoke screen, there should be suitable materials over there, it was part of the old exercise. At least, I’m hoping they still use it.”

“And then what?” Jack had started walking again, carefully picking his way towards the training ground as they spoke. Time, after all was against them already. And who knew, maybe MacGyver’s plan just might work.

“If we can climb a couple of trees, I was thinking of waiting until they were below us and tossing the paint from the cans their way.”

O’Neill scowled. “Ya know, I really was kidding when I said we’d decorate them to death?”

“I believe I understand, O’Neill,” Teal’c intervened helpfully. “Mr. Mac plans to use the paint to reveal the Jaffa, even though cloaked.”

“Well, maybe,” MacGyver admitted. “It depends on how the technology they’re using actually works. The paint might just hit the cloak and vanish like everything else. But it’s at least worth a shot. And if we can get it over their helmets, we could effectively blind them for a few seconds until they can take the helmet off, even if the paint doesn’t fool the cloak itself.”

Jack pondered the idea. “So, we basically make smoke, hide up a tree near these pits in the ground, and then throw paint at a technologically superior enemy and hope we can spook him or blind him enough to be able to push him in the pit without actually getting our own asses canned?”

Teal’c nodded. “I believe this is correct, O’Neill.”

“It’s nuts!” Jack was shaking his head, but was still picking his way through the trees. “I mean, c’mon, even I don’t come up with plans that crazy!”

“Do we have a choice? Do you have any better ideas?” MacGyver had taken point again and appeared to be maneuvering the group around the Jaffa, and to where he thought their plan would best be executed.

Jack checked his weapon. The thing might not actually be of any use, but the motion somehow felt comforting. “So tell me again, how do we actually know when to toss the paint, if we can’t see the bad guys?”

Mac paused, his eyes scouring the vegetation ahead as he spoke in a hushed voice. “We use the smoke and your rifle to our advantage.”

Jack looked down at his gun. “I thought you didn’t do guns?”

Mac sighed and took the rifle from the colonel’s hands, detaching the IR laser sight. “If you think you hear someone approaching, use this,” he flashed the beam across his hand. “When the beam is broken through the smoke, you know you’re ears aren’t playing tricks on you, and you have company.”

O’Neill took the sight back and reattached it to his weapon his mind screaming “smartass” but his mouth remaining civil. “What about you? You don’t have anything?”

Mac winked. “I’ll wing it.” He hunkered to the ground again, indicating his two companions do the same. “From the tracks, I think they’re just passing Macland. I’m going to skirt around to the left and start up the foundation’s auxiliary generators. We’ll need them to power the gate anyway, and it should bring your Jaffa in this direction out of curiosity. Then I’ll work on the fog.”

He took off his pack, retrieved a paint can and handed it to Jack.

“Okay, so where exactly are these pits we’re supposed to use?” O’Neill was squinting through the trees, watching for movement, any bush or twig that was jostled that may mean he could get a fix on the Jaffa for himself.

MacGyver was pointing again, this time to two nearby clearings, one to the left, one to the right. “You take the right hand one, I’ll go for the left after I’m done with the generators and fog. I figured Teal’c could be our ground man and help get our bad guys into the pits if we can disorientate them enough with the paint on their helmets.”

Teal’c nodded. “I will try.”

Jack chewed on his lip. “There are a whole lotta ifs in this scenario I really don’t like. You better be right about this Mr. Mac.” He smiled grimly and began to carefully pick his way through the undergrowth towards the man-made dell where the first pit lay hidden by the treeline.

From the corner of his eye, the colonel saw a glimmer of a smile from his “twin” before MacGyver vanished into the trees on his own personal mission.

Behind, Teal’c followed, his gaze fleeting from side to side, and then to the rear as if he expected the invisible Jaffa to pounce at any second.

As they reached the edge of the glade, Jack held up a hand and dropped to one knee, signaling they should wait.

Teal’c joined the officer. “What is it, O’Neill?”

Jack put a finger to his lips as if they should listen.

There was silence save for the chirping of the odd bird or cricket.

Seconds passed, and for a brief moment O’Neill wondered if MacGyver had been caught by their enemy.

But then it came, the regular burble of a generator kicking it.

The buzz grew louder, and then a second generator fired up, joining the cacophony that shattered the eerie woodland calm.

Jack exhaled. So far, so good…

He surveyed the clearing, eyes picking out the somewhat concealed pit and a selection of stumps of varying heights he suspected candidates here would be asked to traverse.

There was a rope too, dangling from one of the trees.

Not perfectly placed, but close enough to the tree he needed to be in to work.

Stuffing the small paint can in his own pack; Jack edged around the glade to the rope and began to shimmy up it, with Teal’c watching on below, his staff ready to defend his friend if the need arose.

As Jack clambered onto a branch he hoped would take his weight, he realized that the earth beneath the tree was already awash with a spooky smog that clung to the ground like something out of a Carpenter movie.

MacGyver had pulled two of his tasks off.

But could he pull a third? Would the laser and paint trick work?

Jack tugged the sight from his rifle and tucked it into a fold on the branch, then using his field issue knife, he popped the top off the paint can.

As he worked, the air around him grew hazier as Mac’s fog filtered through the depths of the surrounding trees.

He paused, clicking the radio mike attached to his uniform. “Anything yet, Teal’c?” he almost whispered.

The deep growling tones of his friend’s response weren’t comforting. “Negative, O’Neill. However, I do not believe I will know they are here in time to warn you.”

Jack huffed. “Yeah, that’s kinda what I figured.”

And what if I get all three under this dang tree?

Lots of different scenarios played through the officer’s head, and they all ended badly.

Jack was normally a glass half full kinda guy, but in this situation, he felt like things were taking shape that were totally out of his control, and he didn’t like it.

Something snapped slightly to his left and beneath him, and the colonel abandoned his thoughts in favour of listening hard.

Another cracking sound as twigs and undergrowth were pushed aside.

Someone was here.

And he couldn’t risk breaking radio silence to check with Teal’c.

Jack reached for the laser sight, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest.

He licked his lips, eyes darting left and right in a vain attempt to get a fix on who was coming, and exactly from which direction.

C’mon you goa’uld loving…

The thin red beam from the laser was suddenly broken and Jack knew he had to act.

Grabbing the open paint can he tossed the contents to the ground below and prayed under his breath to whoever was listening that the glooping liquid made contact with the enemy.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Seconds later, O’Neill could just make out the helmet and left shoulder of a Jaffa – all in bright white like the paint he’d thrown.

The goa’uld soldier writhed, his hands clasping at his headdress, not grasping yet why he’d abruptly lost all of his vision.

It’s working!

But even as Jack watched, the paint seemed to begin to become translucent. He wasn’t the most technically minded of SG-1, but it was obvious even to the colonel that he had very little time before the cloak adapted to the makeup of the paint, and absorbed its presence like everything else.

Jack grabbed at the nearby rope and slid to the ground.

As his boots hit the dirt, the Jaffa finally managed to withdraw his helmet, and he spun in O’Neill’s direction.

Jack countered by slamming the butt of his rifle at the Jaffa’s chin, and was surprised when it actually made contact.

Was assimilating the paint causing a glitch in the cloak? Or maybe at close quarters the thing wasn’t so invincible?

Jack had no idea if he’d found a flaw in the soldier’s armour, or if it was malfunctioning, but he was determined to use it to his advantage.

He lashed out again with the rifle, but this time the Jaffa was ready and deflected the blow easily with his forearm.

Jack cringed and spun the weapon around in his hand, hoping bullets would work this close just as well as punches.

The Jaffa was quicker, and grabbing the barrel with his augmented strength, he simply tore it from O’Neill’s grasp and tossed it aside.

Jack stepped back, startled from the speed of his opponent’s move, but the Jaffa wasn’t finished yet. He lunged forwards, his angled features and beady eyes showing annoyance.

With one hand, he grabbed O’Neill by the throat and began to lift him, squeezing his long fingers as he poured on more strength into the move.

Apparently savouring the chance to “play” with his enemy, the Jaffa didn’t finish the officer, even though he had the power. Instead, he threw O’Neill sideways into the nearest tree.

Jack hit hard and felt the air knocked from his lungs. Blood dribbled abundantly from his temple where it had impacted with the rough bark, but he knew he had to use this second of freedom to his advantage, or he was as good as dead.

And where the hell is Teal’c?

Jack groaned as he pushed his body up using his arms, and somehow before the Jaffa was able to grab him again, he was able to pull his knife from its sheath.

He couldn’t think of any military move he’d ever been taught that would help in this situation, so Jack opted for his own version of a full frontal assault, barrelling into his enemy with every ounce of strength he had left.

Amazingly, it was enough for both men to topple over, a writhing mess of limbs, punching and kicking to gain the upper hand.

Somehow, Jack found himself wrapped around the Jaffa, his head level with the soldier’s lower back, and it was then that he realized he was looking at a piece of goa’uld technology he hadn’t seen before.

Attached to his attacker’s armour was a small, scaly box that glistened with the same cobalt blue Daniel had spoken of.

Taking a chance, O’Neill poured all of his efforts into taking out the cloak, rather than the man.

Yanking his right hand free, he rammed his blade into the cloak’s edge, suspecting it would be a weak point.

The box shimmered, sparks of energy cascading over its surface, before it seemed to die completely.

The Jaffa roared with rage, and apparently spurred on by the loss of his protection, he grabbed O’Neill’s right arm and twisted it around brutally.

Jack tried to counter, lashing out with his knee in the Jaffa’s stomach, but it had little effect.

Instead, the Jaffa snatched O’Neill’s knife from his hand and glared at it for a moment.

Then, for the first time, he spoke, his voice low like Teal’c’s, but much more rasping. “Feel your own blade as its slices through your flesh, Tau’ri…”

Jack grimaced, knowing he wasn’t going to like what was going to come next, but was powerless to stop it. “Ya know I always wanted a symbiont pouch of my own,” he couldn’t resist one last quip. One last jibe at his enemy.

The Jaffa seemed to smirk, a rare trait among his kind, for just for the tiniest moment. And then, he brought O’Neill’s well honed blade down, slicing into the officer’s side and across without even the hint of emotion.

O’Neill yelped, helpless as the Jaffa held him down, intent of finishing his handiwork.

He tried to struggle, to wriggle, to lash out, but as blood ebbed from him onto the forest floor, so did the power to fight back.


Phoenix Foundation
Facility 3
Angeles Forest

Sam Carter looked at the stargate and sighed. Back home, dialing out was a simple task, but here the problem over crossing time, dimension, as well as space was baffling her.

Why would an electrical storm send the gate so haywire?

Nothing like this had ever happened before, when logic said it should have by now.

There was something here, some element she just wasn’t seeing, and it was way beyond frustrating.

“We can’t make this happen, can we?” Daniel Jackson sauntered up to the officer’s side and joined her in staring at the gate. “I mean, how do we replicate something we don’t even understand?”

Carter shook her head. “The time thing we could maybe try and use sun spots, like we did when we accidentally jumped back to ’69. But how do we do that, and find the catalyst that caused the surge to cross a dimension?”

“And we um…kind of need power to do any of those things…” Daniel fiddled with his glasses. “The Jaffa took out the power from the local grid, the computers that make the backup generators kick in, the phone lines, and um…any kind of transport we might have used to get out of here.”

Carter had to smile. “You know if Jack were here he’d probably say you were sugar coating things and praise you on your optimism?”

Daniel smiled back. “I doubt he’d put it quite so eloquently, but yeah.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “So while Jack, Teal’c and MacGyver are out risking life and limb, what do we do? How do we help when we have no answers?”

“How about we start with some power?” Sam and Daniel turned to see the security guard guiding Pete Thornton into the labs. Despite the whole situation he came across as being in an upbeat mood. “The backup generators are online and working. My guess is MacGyver fired them up manually.” He explained more helpfully.

Sam bit her bottom lip. “Okay, so let’s try hooking this gate up to the DHD and dialing out. Nothing else matters if we can’t do that anyway.”

Daniel nodded. “Maybe I can find a camera or something we can send through once we’ve figured this all out to check before we actually try it ourselves? Kind of like an err, impromptu MALP or drone.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Carter agreed, already walking towards the gate to make a list of requirements to get it online.

Pete smiled again cocking his head in the direction of Jackson’s voice. “Young man, I just might be able to help you with that problem…”



Phoenix Training Ground
Angeles Forest

Angus MacGyver had to admit that this was probably the most outlandish plan he’d ever come up with. But then, it was also the first time he’d encountered aliens, a gateway to another world, and a doppelganger of himself too, so he guessed he was allowed a little crazy.

The problem was, would “a little crazy” actually work?

Getting the generators going had been a piece of cake, as had the smoke machines.

Fighting a superior alien being with superior technology, with his usual approach of duct tape and safety pin, or in this case good old paint, now that was taking inventive to a whole new level.

Mac tried not to think about the odds of this little strategy going down the way he hoped, because he knew they were low.

No, worse than low, they were positively an abyss.

He pushed the thought from his mind anyway and began to clamber up a tree he’d chosen near “his” pit, his pack still slug over his shoulders.

As he reached a nice little perch, he swung his legs up and hunkered over enough to try and see where O’Neill was across the dell.

The fog, however, had already started to get quite thick amongst the trees that lined the edge of the forest, and all that the troubleshooter could make out was the protruding stumps he’d once used to train staff here.

He exhaled slowly and retrieved the paint from his pack, flicking off the lid with his pocket knife.

He’d expected to wait awhile before getting any company, and was surprised when his ears picked up on the sound of someone approaching almost straight away.

Was it Teal’c or O’Neill?

Had something already gone wrong, or was it the Jaffa they’d hoped to lure here after all?

Mac gulped and let his eyes join in the hunt for movement that his ears had already started.

A bush below suddenly and inexplicably began to shake.

This had to be it!

Using all his strength, he tossed the paint towards the bush in an arc he prayed would give the best coverage.

Instantly, a figure appeared through the smog, and they seemed disorientated, just as Mac had hoped.

Not wanting to give the Jaffa time to withdraw his helmet, Mac swung from the tree like Tarzan, hitting the soldier square in the chest with his momentum.

The Jaffa was tossed backwards and teetered on the edge of the pit.

Mac let go of the branch he’d used to swing down and hit the ground, rolling like a paratrooper into a standing position.

Before his eyes, the Jaffa was melting into the background again, his cloak absorbing the paint’s structure.

There was no time to waste.

As the Jaffa’s helmet retracted, Mac took a running jump at him, catching the seething alien in the chest with his boots and finally knocking him over the edge.

The Jaffa yelped, either from rage or surprise as he dropped into the crater, but either way, he was trapped.

Mac clambered to his feet and jogged to the edge of the hole, but when he looked down, the Jaffa had already become invisible once again, a slight blue tingling aura the only thing giving away where he stood as it continued to digest the paint.

Mac took a second to catch his breath and then decided he needed to scour the area for something to put over the pit. He didn’t think the Jaffa would be able to climb out without help, but then as he himself quite often proved – nothing was ever impossible.

Heading back to the small generator building, he hoped there would be something left from the construction crew that had worked here recently that he might be able to utilize.

Before he had chance to duck inside, however, a bright flash in the sky above the smog made him pause.

From what Mac had witnessed back at the Phoenix facility, it was the discharge of a staff weapon, but was it Teal’c at work, or one of the bad guys?

The flash came again.

Could he risk not going to help his two companions?

Mac decided he couldn’t.

Abandoning covering his own pit, he started to jog carefully towards the second, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for the other two Jaffa.

The smoke machine was still hard at work, making it difficult now he was on the ground, but he pushed on, not worrying about his own safety.

The clearing was straight ahead, and through the whirling miasma around him, Mac finally saw the thing he had been dreading.

Jack O’Neill was laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, with Teal’c hovering over him, looking even grimmer than he had back at the labs.

And the only thing screaming through MacGyver’s mind as he approached, his stomach churning, was that this was his dang plan.

His fault.