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"What is it with humans and these infernal pieces of cloth?" Cles muttered, slipping her robe on not bothering to fasten it as she walked down the hall to the mess, Merlin had informed her of the pilots returned a little while ago and she was dreaming of a good meal, followed by possibly taking up were Dragan and her had been when interrupted or getting a couple hours of sleep.
<Dragan always says pilots go for three things when they come off a mission a… bathroom, a meal and a bed. Although not necessarily in that order.> Hearing voices in the mess she shook her head, whistled in amusement and walked into the room heading straight for the food. After grabbing a bowl of pear halves and a plate of meat she headed for the nearest table, and went to fill the special 'mug' Merlin had been kind enough to give her so she wouldn't have to drink out of a bowl like some kind of dog. Its design was almost perfect for her beak allowing her drink without the embarrassment of having to lap up the last half of her drink with her tongue.
Cles began cutting a piece of meat when she noticed the room had gone strangely silent.
Chyra was in a really foul mood, first Merlin tells her that there's nothing he can do about her 'problem' then he tells her that she would probably have to use something called 'the dreaming' to get relief from it… however he had failed to tell her *what* this dreaming thing was or where the hell she could find it! On top of that add the facts that she had been stuck in this place for nearly a week with nothing for her to do and ceilings too low to fly around the halls without risking accidentally running into someone's head and you had one very frustrated little dragon.
At least in the Mixer she could make herself useful by ruling the new guests and doing other tasks that were within her abilities, but here there wasn't even any busy work for her to do. With her size it would take her longer to check one panel on a hammerhead then it took Cles to check out a whole fighter, there was no paperwork for her to do, the idea of her piloting made even her want to laugh, and unless they where infiltrating the Pyramid ship her going out with Dragan would be more than pointless.
She entered the hall, turned the corner, heading for the flight deck. She was hoping to catch Dragan and talk him into one of the lessons she kept trying to pound into that extra thick skull of his. Chyra growled low in her throat as she thought of how inadequate his education was at the moment. <I knew both the history of our people and twice the spells he knows by the time I was 20! He has twice the potential I did, yet getting him to study anything important is harder then trying to get a vampire to church! At this rate he might get ten percent of the things that he should have known by adolescences when he turns 20,000!>
She was nearly to the end of the hall when she heard footsteps coming up behind her and moved to the side of the hall to avoid accidentally tripping someone that wasn't paying attention to where they were walking. She had gone a few more feet down the hall when something slammed into her side, ramming her into the wall. She lay there for a moment, more surprised than anything, trying to figure out what had just happened when she heard someone speaking. She had just enough time to register they were speaking Russian before someone grabbed her tail and lifted her by it. As she hung there listening to their conversation Chyra's eyes narrowed as she began to grind her teeth.
"That is the strangest rodent I have ever seen…"
"It's not a rodent; it had scales. Must be some kind of lizard… a mutant iguana or maybe a genetics experiment? It would explain why this facility is so large and its location so well hidden."
"No, it feels like it's made of metal. I think it's some kind of robot…" the man holding her grabbed one of her hind legs and began manipulating it. After a moment he let go. "But I have never heard of one this small that was able to move so naturally."
As the three continued discussing her, Chyra slowly reached out. She grabbed the flight suit of the man holding her and pulled herself close enough that she was able to grip it with her feet as well before twisting her neck so that she could look up at him. "Excuse me comrade, but is your name Chet?"
"No, it's Ivan." the man said. Looking up, he blinked in confusion when he couldn't find who had spoken to him. He suddenly noticed his companions staring at him wide-eyed and followed their gaze to find whatever he had been holding grinning up at him.
"It's about to be!" Chyra said as smoke started coming from her nostrils.
Captain Michael Sams was sitting in the mess with several of the other rescued pilots eating a very good meal, but mostly they where talking about the situation and location in which they had found themselves. So far he had heard everything from secret branch of the military to alien outposts.
Hearing the door open he turned and looked; his eyes bulged at the sight of the creature that walked in. He deliberately blinked a few times and it was still there. He elbowed the guy beside him without taking his eyes off of it.
"Hey, what was that for…? What the hell?"
One by one the others at the table fell silent as they noticed the newcomer. After a few moments it seemed to notice that something was up, looked over at them, raised an eyebrow, shrugged and went back to its meal.
"What the hell is that thing supposed to be?"
"I don't know… but did you get a look at those tits?"
"Yeah, makes ya want to sit up and ask for buttermilk, huh?"
Captain Sams was still staring at whatever it was when he overheard the pilots' whispered comments.He saw the female turn and favor their table a glare that screamed 'perverts'. He frowned, deciding to have a little chat with the offenders about the kind of impression they where making for the USA's military with the locals and what it would likely lead to if they continued.
"Yeah, they're really nice aren't they? Glad you like them," the sound of a chair being knocked over nearly drowned out the aviator's painful curse. "But I catch you leering at my mate like that again and I guarantee you that you won't like what'll happen."
Captain Sams turned to find the guy with green hair he had seen in the hanger casually standing behind one of the other pilots at the table with an annoyed look on his face. He was holding a bottle in one hand and his other hand firmly gripped the pilot's shoulder. He held the man so his feet where several inches above the floor.
"Dragan, put him down!" The green-haired man looked towards the table the creature was sitting at. He rolled his eyes with a sigh and let go of the pilot's shoulder allowing him to drop to the floor, then headed for the table were the female was sitting glaring at him.
"Hey, chicken-shit let's see you try that on someone who doesn't have his back to you."
Captain Sams swallowed hard when he saw Dragan freeze mid-step, then slowly turned and leveled a hostile glare at the speaker before favoring him with a smile that sent a shiver up the Captain's spine.
"Fine by me, I could use a good laugh." Dragan shook his head, set the bottle of wine on a table, reached behind him and drew Draca. After taking a glance at the now very nervous pilot, Dragan chuckled and set the sickle-sword beside the wine before raising his arms above his head in a full body stretch. "I'll even be a nice guy and not hit back until hit me five… no, make that ten times."
"Dragan, I must insist you…"
"Stay out of this, Merlin. That 'human' just called me a coward and that, as Arthur would say, 'makes this a matter of honor'," Dragan said, not even glancing at the image of the old man as his voice reflected both his disgust and amusement.
"Be that as it may, this is hardly a fair contest." Merlin looked the pilots over intently. "I remember your last duel and I have to say I doubt that all of them together would be able to pick up a knight in full armor and throw him the full length of the list."
"Well it's not my fault they're wimps."
"Drag, let it go please…" Cles set her hand on his shoulder. "I would hate to have to visit you in the brig as I had hoped that when we finished our meal we…" she leaned in and whispered into Dragan's ear.
Dragan's eyes went wide for a moment then he broke out in a grin. He picked up the bottle of wine, turned to her and tapped the end of her beak. "My lady, you have yourself a deal."
The pilot stared in confusion as the pair grabbed a tray and began filling it with food in preparation of leaving the mess hall. "What the hell…?"
"Young man, you should feel very lucky…" Merlin frowned at the pilot that had picked the fight. "If that young lady hadn't stepped in you would most likely have spent the remainder of your visit in the critical care facility of the Medical bay… Antagonizing a person capable of literally ripping you in half is not very intelligent."
"Yeah, right…" The pilot shook his head and smirked. "Hey buddy, when you're through with her send her my way. I've got five bucks that's just burning a hole in my pock...<gasp>"
The man never finished what he was saying as he was interrupted by the apple Cles threw hitting him in the groin with enough force to cause the apple to explode.
Merlin shook his head with a pained expression. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother."
Sams felt his eyes bulge in sympathy pain as he watched the man sink to the floor folding in around his injured privates.
Dragan had ducked the second he heard what the guy had said. He slowly stood up, looked at the man lying prone on the floor and winced, then turned to Cles' furious form and smiled. "Nice shot."
"Not really…" Cles said, her ears back and eyes narrowed as her whole body radiated fury. "I was aiming for his head!"
Dragan chuckled and patted her shoulder. "Well, if I had to guess I'd say that you hit it…"
Cles looked at the ancient mercenary blankly for a moment, then whistled in amusement and shook her head at the poor excuse for a joke before both of them turned towards a commotion at the doorway.
Colonel O'Neill was walking towards the mess lost thought when all three of the Russian pilots ran out of a side corridor with panicked expressions. Smoke rising from their flight suits they took off running down the corridor ahead of him, gibbering something in Russian. A moment later Chyra flashed out of the same corridor and using the wall as a launch pad took off flying down the corridor after them yelling in Russian as well.
Jack just stood there for a moment staring after their retreating forms, then blinked, shook his head and continued down the hall. He had just reached the mess when he had to press himself against the wall to avoid the Russians running him over as they made a mad dash into the mess hall from another side corridor with Chyra still right on their heels, just making it into the mess before the doors closed.
Jack leaned against the wall staring at the doors debating if he really wanted to go in there. After a moment his curiosity and hunger finally won out. Jack slowly approached the doors until they opened then just stood there staring, wide-eyed and slack-mouthed at chaos iin the room.
The US pilots where scrambling to stay out of the line of fire as the Russians were throwing anything they could get their hands on at the airborne Chyra, who was retaliating by either shooting balls of fire down at yelling men or 'catching' something they threw and sending it on a return trajectory . Dragan was sitting on the floor, holding his gut as he laughed so hard he had tears running down his face with Cles half lying on him in a similar state.
Finally Jack's eyes came to rest on the annoyed image of Merlin shaking his head, looking over the mess hall with an expression like a teacher with an unruly class. Merlin turned and looked at O'Neill with an expression fill with frustration and annoyance. "And these are the people that are going to save the world…"
Jack looked over the mess again, shook his head, looked back at Merlin and smiled. "We're doomed."
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