Still Working On It

Posting these in advance in case things go completely pear-shaped… ploin-shaped, as Commissar Cain would say…

Family Stuff In-Progress

Paperwork, medical stuff, more paperwork… and moving furniture,

Brief Note and State of the Author

Sunday was-

Well. Sunday was. The worst day of my life.

Track of the Apocalypse Ch7 Ficbit – Swept Away

Why did they make the side-grade so steep-!

In the back of his head a steamsmith’s calculations ran

Track of the Apocalypse Ch7 Ficbit – Shrapnel

Boots rang on the hatch ladder. Kurusu waited a half-breath for Kibito to unhitch his own harness,

Track of the Apocalypse Ch7 Ficbit – Not Enough Ammo

“Grandpa?” Came the sputter as O’Neill worked his way down as fast as gloved hands could manage on sharp steel.

Track of the Apocalypse Ch7 Ficbit – What Was That?

And that was two MP-5s opening up, running through ammo at a rate Jack would very much like to chew someone out for.

Track of the Apocalypse Ch7 Ficbit – Flinch

Jack had to let his pack swing from one arm and grab for the nearest solid slab of metal, as light flashed,

Track of the Apocalypse Ch7 Ficbit – Prior Wars

Jack blinked, almost touching his cheek. Nope, it wasn’t the ongoing wind-chill numbing his skin; the rain really had stopped driving water-nails quite so hard into his face. Seemed this close to the wrecked car, the mass of steel was finally cutting some of the wind.

Though at the moment, Jack really couldn’t see that as a bonus–

He blasted the next fangy back far enough that Mumei could snipe it. Blue sparks and flailing limbs took it just a hair too far into the gale, tumbling like a sack of bricks.

Good. One less dead monster underfoot.

At least the Kabane are having the same problems we are.

Well. Mostly. Iron bones and the iron cage meant their sheer weight made them more likely to stay put… but not by much.

Green, green – aha! There you are. “Teal’c! I’m going to be busy!”

“Indeed.”

The whine of a staff weapon charging was so, so comforting.

Smack up close to neon-green tape as he could get, Jack worked half-gloved fingers to get some of the cold wet stiffness out of them. And ordered his teeth to chatter later. Damn windchill. Damn rain. Damn hurricanes. Drop you dead of hypothermia in the middle of freaking summer, for crying out loud.

Breathe. Do it by the numbers. We don’t have enough C-4 to get this wrong.

When they got out of this he had to teach the locals some nice go-boom chemistry, never mind what the Pentagon might say. Matter of self-preservation….

All the while Jack was going over the calculations in his head, slapping the sticky side against steel in the best possible I-beam-style cut he could manage. The hayajiro car wasn’t a building, exactly, but it’d obviously been built to some of the same do-not-come-apart specs, with added V-shaped hull fillips that looked more like something he’d seen on an APC meant to go over landmines.

…Given the Kabane probably weren’t laying minefields on the tracks, Jack had serious questions about just what Tenka had been doing before Ma’chello had come to call.

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Track of the Apocalypse Ch7 Ficbit – Allied Fear

Eyes on the far end of the wrecked car, Kurusu tossed his head to shed some of the rain.