trans_9 | Archaeology, Natural Disasters and You [Closed]

Now that Howard was gone, Daniel could work on this room in peace and quiet. The chamber was empty once again.

Compared to the somber dignity of the native tower, the chamber was gaudy. Extremely gaudy. Gold. Lots, and lots of gold. Daniel touched one of the walls with a thumb. If not gold, something a lot like it. Judging from the construction, this hidden chamber was a late addition, probably during the war that resulted in the battle site outside. Someone had seen fit to stash an entire sarcophagus in here and hidden it away. The question was what were the Goa'uld even doing here?

Somehow he'd thought they were an evil confined to his own universe. Now he had to admit that was a small way of thinking. With so many universes, unfortunately that meant there was a good chance that meant different versions of Goa'uld across the multiverse. It explained why the writing looked familiar, legible even, with a few grammar changes here and there. Just the thought of Goa'uld roaming this very universe made his stomach sink. Did that mean there was a Ra somewhere, alive and living off the slaves of Abydos?

Was there a Sha're? It was trouble the moment he thought it. Daniel went down that train of thought anyway. There probably was. Maybe in this universe, he hadn't opened the Stargate. Or he didn't even exist. She probably wouldn't know him anyway, and she wasn't the Sha're he knew, Daniel firmly told himself. It was better not to think of the possibilities, because once he got started, he wasn't going to stop.

Maybe she wasn't a host. Maybe she was happily married to some Abydonian and living about as blissfully as they could under Ra's rule.

Daniel was drawn back to the sarcophagus. For all he knew, the Goa'uld were dead in this universe. With his luck, this was the site of their last battle. He set his notes down on the lid and took a step back, shining a light on the inscriptions. There were some words on the side of the sarcophagus. Several were new to him. It probably wouldn't give much of a clue as to why someone would leave a sarcophagus here of all places, but maybe it would tell him something about the Goa'uld who once owned it.

Edited 2011-09-27 06:23 (UTC)

Absorbed in his work as he was, Daniel may not have noticed right away that he was no longer alone. The Master had been following him all day, waited with increasing impatience for Howard to leave, and now... now Daniel was his.

He walked slowly into the chamber, his footfalls muted by the thick layers of dust and dirt coating nearly everything. It didn't really matter. He'd managed to cobble together a crude perception filter from some of the components scattered about the site. Nobody would even see him unless they wanted to.

And he doubted very much Daniel wanted to see him. Not unless he was much stupider than even the Master gave him credit for.

"Hmph," the Master commented as he got close enough to the sarcophagus, casually inspecting the chamber's gold-draped walls. "It truly amazes me how many species resort to such tacky decor. What do you think: do they somehow recognize, deep down in their synapses, its marvelous utility as a non-corrosive conductor? Or is it simply an affinity for 'shiny objects'?"

John seemed to materialize from the edge of his vision out of nowhere. Daniel glanced up at the flicker of movement and practically jumped a foot in the air. His pencil dropped out of his hand and rolled against the sarcophagus. With a curse, he stooped and retrieved it. Crap. John was not one of the people Daniel wanted to look unprepared or uncoordinated in front of, and yet, he managed to completely catch him by surprise.

When did he come in? Daniel set his things on the sarcophagus between them, and frowned at him over the rims of his glasses. He didn't hear him come in, and usually he was good with things like that. At least he was before he'd become part of a team. Maybe he'd gotten used to Jack watching his back while he worked.

That was going to have to change, Daniel told himself. He had to go back to some of his old habits. He was on his own. Daniel watched to make sure John didn't touch anything.

"Considering this particular species, I'd say a little of Column A, a little of Column B". Daniel looked down at his notebook, jotted more notes down, a clear sign he was busy. Too busy to deal with John right now. He'd gotten some answers out of the man, but never enough to quite satisfy him. There was that and then the fact that John was difficult to work with, with a chip on his shoulder for some reason that he thought he had to share with the rest of the excavation. He looked up to find John was still here.

"Are you done on your part of the dig?" Daniel asked pointedly. "Because I can assign you something else to do if you are."

He couldn't say it much more bluntly, short of actually saying it as it was. Daniel was too busy, this room was too important, and he wanted to be alone.

Edited 2011-09-29 06:33 (UTC)

Daniel's reaction was priceless, and just what the Master had been aiming for. He smirked faintly, stepping further into the chamber and resting his hands upon the sarcophagus.

"Oh, I've already found something else," he murmured, tracing the inscriptions idly with one finger. Though the sarcophagus was between Daniel and the Master, the Master was between Daniel and the door. As long as there were no interruptions, he had the human exactly where he wanted him. And the most amusing part was, he still had no idea of the danger he was in.

Daniel frowned when John, rather than leave him alone, stepped in. The frown deepened when he even put his hands on the device. So far, John hadn't shown any respect or actual interest in the dig, and Daniel was less willing to let him casually manhandle a find like this. This especially required delicacy, maybe just as much as the mummy. He'd only seen two of these before, ever, and both had been destroyed. The especially interesting thing was this one looked a lot like Ra's had, particularly headpiece, something that had been absent on Hathor's. Maybe this belonged to a Goa'uld of equal rank. Maybe it didn't, but if they could reverse engineer it, it could be a medical miracle.

"Please don't touch that," Daniel said, his voice sharp. The archaeologist's patience was quickly diminishing. John seemed oblivious to all his 'get out' signals.

When John made no motion to move his arm, Daniel came around the sarcophagus, and brushed his hand off it. God, he didn't want to take the bait, but if John did actually stumble on something- "What did you find?"

Because if he was going to say he found the chamber with the mummy, sorry John, you got beat to it. Nothing new to see in there unless he had an eye for hidden chambers or something.

Edited 2011-10-01 09:08 (UTC)

He'd probably taken more bait than he'd realized. Quick as a snake, the Master's hand snapped back and wrapped its fingers around Daniel's wrist, squeezing painfully.

"You," the Master replied calmly, affixing him with an intent stare. He yanked hard in an attempt to bring Daniel closer, perhaps even throw him off-balance a bit.

Daniel barely saw John move. Daniel flinched. It was like watching a cobra strike. The man suddenly had his fingers around his wrist. It hurt too, as if he were trying to grind his bones together. "What the hell are you doing?!"

The man was stronger than he looked. Yanked off balance, Daniel started to stumble closer, then reacted on instinct, which also threw out whatever survival training Jack and that one drill sergeant tried to drum into his head. Daniel threw his weight back, at the same time tried to slim his hand as much as he could and jerk it out of John's grasp. He hit the sarcophagus edge on his side, the breath whooshing out of him. Turning, Daniel tried ignoring the constricting sensation in his chest as he propped himself up to keep an eye on John. He tried not to look like he was leaning heavily on the sarcophagus.

"Get out. Now." Daniel was beyond angry, beyond pissed, and worse, he didn't have a clue what was going on, like what the hell John wanted with him. His mind raced. No weapons on him. No SG-3 or SG-1 hovering. One way out. It wasn't like they had security with them this mission. A waste of resources and Daniel hadn't thought it necessary. The world had been confirmed as devoid of life, anything else Eneesh's crew could handle. Watching John still, Daniel thumbed on the comm channel. Captain Eneesh could take care of him.

Edited 2011-10-01 09:43 (UTC)

The Master drew his face up in annoyance as Daniel's wrist managed to slither out of his grasp, throwing him off-balance as well in the process. As much as the Doctor crowed about the unpredictability of humans, the Master honestly didn't know how the other Time Lord could stand it. That, and their sheer dumb luck.

He stumbled forward a few steps before noticing that Daniel had already switched on his omnicomm.

"Oh, no you don't," he snarled, batting at the device. His other hand reached for Daniel's head.

John wasn't getting spooked like Daniel hoped he would, he was coming back after him. The archaeologist started to push himself back off the sarcophagus, at least get himself to a better position if this was coming down to a fight, when John was suddenly on him. He was far faster than he expected. The comm channel cut out before it could contact anyone.

Daniel backed up in an effort to get away from his hand, anywhere but in it's path, only to come up short when something hard pressed against his back.

He chanced a look down for an instant. The sarcophagus was blocking his way. John was reaching for his head. Daniel didn't have time to think, he made a grab at the wrist.

Edited 2011-10-01 10:21 (UTC)

"Relax," the Master grimaced, pressing his wrist hard against Daniel's grip, leaning his entire body into it to force his arm down against the sarcophagus. "You won't remember a thing."

The drums flared in his mind, loud and insistent. Anticipatory. There was something so exhilarating about a good struggle where he already had the upper hand.

Speaking of which, his free hand was making good use of the distraction, darting up on Daniel's other side to grasp at his temple again.

He couldn't stop him. Daniel might have had better luck throwing Teal'c to the ground, because all John did was put his full weight forward. Daniel's arm shook with the effort. Then, horrifyingly, he felt his grip giving. John was gaining ground. Daniel's arm was forced down to press against the sarcophagus. Blue eyes went to John's, angry, scared. What did he mean by that? What was he doing?

John was going to kill him and the worst part was Daniel didn't even know why.

Relax. It strummed through Daniel's head. Like some bizarre wind chimes and a breeze, timed to a persistent beat lurking under the surface. He fought to keep his eyes open, just as he fought to keep John from getting closer. Relax. Daniel's hand stopped trying to squeeze John's wrist off. Relax. Sure, why not? He hadn't relaxed in ages, and he needed it. Everyone was always saying he worked too hard. He could relax. Distantly, Daniel felt John grasp his head and that was okay. He said it was going to be fine.

Daniel slumped a little against the sarcophagus, the fight draining out of him. Dilated eyes watched expectantly as his eyelids drooped.

Edited 2011-10-02 08:29 (UTC)

Finally, finally, Daniel was relaxing under his grip. The Master let out a long breath that certainly wasn't relief and shook his wrist free with a jerk. Letting the sarcophagus take Daniel's weight, he grasped the ape's temples with both hands. Slowly (not hesitantly, of course not-- because after all, what was there to be afraid of this time?) he brought his forehead to rest against Daniel's.

The drumbeat was there, faint but strong. He could feel it resonating through Daniel like a second pulse. It shouldn't have been possible. Perhaps the Doctor's memories would tell him how. Perhaps his future self had worked out what the drums were. The Master dug in deeper, mentally and physically, searching with greedy haste for news of his own destiny.

There was no resistance as the Master brought Daniel's head to his. If anything, the archaeologist went with it as if numbed to everything. The Master said to relax. He could obey. It never occurred to Daniel to do anything but to obey. This man was the Master. How could anyone do anything in front of him but realize their rightful place? Even when the Master's fingers gripped painfully into his skull, Daniel didn't move, only docilely took the hurt.

Drums. The first thing he was aware of. Rising up from the soothing wind chimes, overtaking them. The drums moved through like a pulse in the air.

Surprisingly enough, the first memory that came up to the Master was embarrassment. Intense, short, squeaky voice, high-pitched embarrassment in the form of that bad, bad girl, Minnie Hooper, who just goosed his rear. The Doctor jumped a mile in the air. He came back down to find Minnie's hand waiting to cup his butt. She smiled at him innocently. Maybe not so much innocent as knowing. And maybe not so much knowing as saying with her eyes 'I'm a cheeky old lady and there's nothing you can do about it, so be a dear and smile for the photo'.

He didn't have time for this. The Doctor smiled uncomfortably. The Master was out there. Alive but hurt. Burning himself from the inside out. He needed help. And the Doctor needed to find him not- not waste his time getting his photo taken! And with his luck, he'd have Torchwood, what was left of it anyway, on his heels or UNIT trying to get him to come back if they knew he was here.

How did Wilf track him down anyway?

Edited 2011-10-04 07:41 (UTC)

The Master chuckled at the Doctor's discomfiture; he hadn't expected that sort of memory to float up first of all. But his laugh was cut short as he witnessed more and realized the context. Burning from the inside out. What did that mean... burning?

Such bright light in his eyes. Confusion. Shouting. Gunfire. The drums, again, so very faint now, a different thread weaving through Daniel's head. It took the Master a moment to realize that these weren't his drums... but a memory of them.

The Doctor's memory.

On a hillside, a small, wretched figure, bathed in a spotlight. His arms open to the sky, screaming nonsense, encrusted with dirt. Disheveled.

This was what his oldest enemy had become.

The Master's brow furrowed. Rassilon, that was supposed to be him? It couldn't be him!

Daniel obediently remained where he was. He hadn't moved an inch on the sarcophagus, other than to lean into the Master's hands.

"The Noise in my head! Stronger than ever before, can't you hear it?" he thought he heard something foreign in the other Time Lord's voice. It wasn't there before. Desperation. The Master was pleading with him, trying to find a common ground. The Doctor tried, he did, he really did. He didn't hear anything. Time moving and flowing and tangling in on itself around them. Heart beats. A cricket somewhere. But no drums. It was all in the Master's head. "I'm sorry, I can't hear anything."

The Master crawled over like a wild thing. Dark eyes stared into his.

"Listen." The Master hissed and this time it was a command. He put his hands on the Doctor's head and pressed their foreheads together.

The Doctor listened.

Thud-thud thud-thud. Over and over. An actual sound. The Doctor jerked back in shock, and so did Daniel slightly in response.

What's inside your head?!

Desperation. Pleading. Degeneracy. He refused to believe that this was what awaited him. The Master outright refused... but before the horror could truly sink in, he heard it, through the Doctor's mind through Daniel's.

One-two-three-four. One-two-three-four. But that could only mean...

The Master laughed again, almost triumphantly, not even noticing Daniel's shift away. "They're real!" he whispered to himself... just as his future self in the Doctor's memory crowed the same thing.

Now it was his turn to jerk back, disoriented by the sense of doubling, present and future. So the drums weren't just a symptom of his madness, as the Doctor had preferred to think. But would he work out what they were? Why they were?

The Master pulled Daniel back toward him by the hair to renew the connection, mentally sifting through the debris in his head. Looking for the next piece to this puzzle. The continuation of the memory...

Daniel thought he shouldn't like the shifting sensation in his head. It wasn't comfortable. He wished he would stop doing that but it wasn't his place to say anything. The Master was happy as he ever could be. Elated. Despite his discomfort, Daniel relaxed even further into his hands, and, eager to please the Time Lord further, let himself get grabbed and pulled back. Yes, they were real. Always have been. I believe you.

For all his time roaming the universe, seeing the impossible, it was astounding how much time the Doctor spent untangling wires and trying to hot wire something. It was equally amazing how similar the act of hot wiring anything was across the known universe, just as amazing how badly wires would tangle themselves if left to their own devices. This time, it was to get the heating working. Then he'd figure out what to do with the Master.

He lied even to himself. The Doctor was never very good at keeping to a proper list of things to do. Chaotic multitasking, that was what he preferred. He looked out over Earth. Everyone was the Master now, and as horrific as the idea was, a tiny part of him was impressed. The Master had outdone himself. But why couldn't he have tried to do something useful instead, like try to save himself with the machine? And those drums. The Doctor could still hear them. Not as intimately as the Master did, but he could remember them like a bad dream that didn't fade all the way over time. Persistent and pounding on. How did he live all this time with them?

A flicker of white shot into view. What was that?

It looked like a comet, a white point in space hurtling down towards Earth.

The Doctor got to his feet.

Edited 2011-10-07 06:51 (UTC)

"A white point star," the Master heard himself say smugly, the announcement thin and reedy through speakers that sounded as if they'd been salvaged from a junkyard. A white point star, here.

"No," the Master whispered slowly, here and now, but he was grinning. How? The Doctor had destroyed them. He'd destroyed Gallifrey...

Before he could find out, the memory began to fade, maddeningly, into something else. A circle of Ood... The Master cursed, the syllables thick in his mouth, and grasped the tail of it, yanking viciously and heedless of the damage he might do. There was more to be learned here, and he wasn't willing to wait any longer.

He couldn't believe he was still alive. He hadn't really thought when he'd jumped, hadn't looked before he leaped. Not that he ever did. Though the fall hadn't killed him, he had a feeling he knew what might.

A pure white light again, even brighter than before, and a group of silhouetted figures he couldn't quite make out. He squinted and struggled to get to his knees, grinding glass into his palms, every last bit of his body aching. Everyone must be staring at him, but he was really only aware of the Master's attention. The familiarity of his presence somehow made this more bearable, even knowing what he had to do.

He didn't want to kill him. But what choice did he have?

Daniel jerked as if he'd made contact with a live wire. His breath stuttered.

He'd almost expected the fall to kill him. He'd never been good with heights. The last time the Doctor had fallen from a great height, he'd ended up in a new body. The Master had been involved back then too. Either it was a staggering coincidence the same was going on now or there was something more at work. When it came to the Master, the Doctor threw every oddball coincidence out the window. And he knew it was coming. He'd knock four times, and the Master had already. At least the universe let him know it was coming. Rather kind if morbid of it.

The Doctor got to his feet. The gun felt so heavy in his hands. Foreign. The Master had helped bring the Time Lords from the time lock, and something even worse with it. The Master had to have figured it out. He'd brought his own death. Gallifrey was coming through and every horror and travesty of the war. It would rip everything apart.

Taking a look around, he thought knew most of the Time Lords on all sides. The Master he knew intimately. And the others...he knew them most of them. At least the two guards. Fought alongside some back when he'd fancied a cravat and a good frock. And the one in the center...

"Rassilon..."

The Lord President surveyed them all with a barely restrained sneer, as if amused by the gathering of all the players.

"Of course," the Master breathed, again at the same time as his other self in the Doctor's memory. That was how the diamond had gotten through. The drums weren't just a calling-- they were a link. It was so clever, so simple, so elegant... the Master was surprised he hadn't come up with it himself.

But ah, Rassilon. He should have known. If there was anyone who came close to matching the Master's triumph over death, it would be him. The so-called Lord President. Oh, but to watch himself grovel like a dog at the sight of him! To be nothing more than a beacon for the Time Lords, something to be used and tossed aside as 'diseased'.

Worse, to watch himself plead with the Doctor, beg silently and tearfully to be spared. It was far too much. The Master growled, a sinister and throaty sound that was more fitting of his future counterpart. No human should be allowed to have a memory of this.

He lashed out mentally, losing his focus. Losing himself in the rage and the panic and the drums, the never-ending drum beat, the curse he'd been plagued with all his life. Not even attempting to call up memories anymore, the Master rampaged through them. He'd make the Doctor pay for this. But first, he'd rip Daniel's mind to shreds.

Daniel's chest heaved, eyes rolling back as the Master turned his anger on him.

It was sudden and terrifyingly fast, like a dog turning on someone in less than a second and trying to tear their hand off. He didn't even have time to react before the Master was on him, right along with the drums, loud, thundering, and deafening that it made his ears hurt. The Master sank into him and ripped at whatever he could find. Daniel wasn't even aware of the fact that he tried to jerk out of the grip, only knew that he was shaking violently, and every instinct needed him to get away.

It took Howard a long time to convince himself to come back down here, but Daniel had been understanding enough, so Howard figured he owed an apology for panicking and bolting the way he did. Now that he's mustered up the nerve to return to the room with the creepy sharkophagoose (alright, he's not even trying to remember exactly what it was called, something starting and ending with S), he's left trying to figure out what exactly he'll tell Daniel.

"I have this thing about death," he says to himself, trying out how it sounds. He wants to sound reasonable and sympathetic but not vulnerable and damaged.

'I had a zombie in my basement. Also, I got stuck in a corpse trench on a mission. And helped bury kids after animal attacks on my world. And one of my friends on the ship is a zombie, but uh, it's okay when she does the whole undead thing since she takes it in stride.'

He pushes his med kit through the crack ahead of him, having vowed to never travel unprepared. Besides, it has granola bars and shoelaces in it, which are perfect for chewing on when things get stressful. He thinks he might have left Daniel's pencil in the room with the life-death torture machine, which might constitute reason enough to return on its own. It wouldn't do to waste that.

"I have this thing about death because my life is really weird," he says out loud. He twists his way out of the crack again and unclips himself from his rope. He realizes that he's not quite sure how Daniel got in here, although he suspects it was from higher up, from the collapse in the wall a way up.

And then he remembers that he's wasting time looking around the main chamber because some basic instinct of his doesn't want him to go back in the same room with a torture machine. Or near the tower with the mummy right behind the door. He runs a hand over his forearm and feels goosebumps there. His mouth feels dry and sticky.

"Daniel? Dr. Jackson? Yo, Indiana Jones in Space, you here?" He takes a deep breath, slings the med kit over his shoulder and, walking as lightly and tentatively as a deer would towards water, heads into the hidden chamber with the sarcophagus.

It was good that Howard talked too much. The Master was so far in, so engaged in making Daniel hurt, that the boy was nearly at the chamber entrance before he even sensed there was somebody coming at all.

His mind racing, he jerked back from Daniel, breaking the connection with a snap that almost could have been audible. Then he took his hands away from Daniel's temples and left the convulsing man to stand or fall on his own.

"Help!" the Master cried loudly, watching the entrance. "Somebody, help!"

Daniel's heart beat faster and faster, a mirrored frenzy of the drum pulse that beat in the Master's mind. His chest closed in on itself with each beat, He couldn't breath. He couldn't think, couldn't even focus. There wasn't anything else just then but the drums and the pain, each little jerk of his limbs and the Master burrowing in like a parasite, eating away at his flesh and squirming and digging.

And then, just as suddenly, he was gone. Just like that. The absence was just as terrifying. No drums, no one else.

It was like someone pulled the plug. Daniel teetered on his feet and then dropped, cracking his head on the edge of the sarcophagus before landing in a heap on the floor.

Edited 2011-10-13 04:50 (UTC)

At the cry for help, Howard freezes for a second, then picks up the pace and rushes into the room, med kit over his shoulder.

It's fortunate for Daniel that the Master decided to play innocent. If Howard had walked in on a murder being committed, he almost definitely would have turned tail and tried to forget it. Tried to rationalize it, about how someone who could overpower Daniel could easily overpower Howard, and how witnesses who said anything were always next on the hit list. Howard's capable of saving a life; he is not yet, and may never be, capable of putting himself at risk to stop a random crime.

He runs in just in time to see - and hear - Daniel's head crack against the edge of the sarcophagus. "Shit!" He rushes to Daniel's side and pulls him towards the open floor, turning him onto his side as soon as he recognizes he's unconscious.

He glances up at the Master, pieces starting to fall together. His first impulse is to yell at the Master to go alert Eneesh, as much as Howard fears those bugs, but the way the Master didn't even bother to catch Daniel sticks out in his mind.

"Do you think he's having a seizure?" Howard asks in a very level tone, trying to heavily imply that if the Master says yes, Howard won't ask any further questions. Or mention the Master was here. "You can go get help. I got this."

Howard crouches over Daniel to check his pulse and make sure his airway's clear. The head wound is bad; it'll need stitches, at least, and like any injury to the head, it's bleeding fast. He pulls winds of gauze and bandages out of his kit and presses them again Daniel's head, trying to staunch the flow. Using his free hand, he pulls an adrenalin capsule and hypospray from his kit and doses Daniel with half. That should be enough to rouse Daniel back after a few moments, unless there's some injury impeding Daniel's ability to regain wakefulness.

He starts to cut Daniel's shirt open so he can check for external injuries, but he probably won't be able to tell if there's internal damage until Daniel wakes up.

Edited 2011-10-14 06:06 (UTC)

Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber

Re: Daniel Jackson || Sub Temple B - Sarcophagus Hidden Chamber