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Attack of the Slayers

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Lightsabers". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Teal'c has a lightsaber. Buffy wants a lightsaber. Oh, and Andrew's been captured by these radar telemetry guys. This cannot possibly end well.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Buffy-CenteredWaveletFR1548,66226611,20021 Apr 1211 May 12No

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Buffy had nearly reached the tall, steel fence, topped with barbed wire, which guarded the outer perimeter of Cheyenne Mountain, when she and her troop of 'girl scouts' were halted by twelve men wearing the American military's standard BDU. They were also carrying some rather impressive looking automatic weapons which the soldiers had pointed at her girls.

Buffy fought the urge to frown. She really did not like guns, particularly when they were pointed at her friends. Even so, she needed to stay in character. This was a job for blonde bimbo Buffy, not battle-hardened slayer Buffy.

A man at the front of the group of soldiers glared sternly at Buffy. The rest of the army guys seemed to be deferring to him, so Buffy dubbed him Major Asshole, and decided to save him a punch in the face when she and her girls beat the crap out of these guys.

“This is a restricted area, Miss. I'm going to have to ask you and your... whoever you are to leave immediately.”

Buffy blinked innocently at the officer, drawing attention to her perfectly pressed girl scout leader uniform by the expedient of pulling on its collar lightly.

“Don't you recognize our uniform. We're a girl scout troop from Colorado Springs.”

Buffy pouted cutely.

“But we're lost. Could you give us directions?”

Major Asshole squinted at her suspiciously. The woman was barely five feet tall, the man beside her only had one eye, and most of the rest of her group seemed to consist of twelve or thirteen year-old girls. Moreover, they had actually walked up to the front gate of the Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Station in plain sight along the road.

If this was an attempted infiltration, it was the worst planned op he had ever seen. If this was an attack, the woman and kids did not look as if they could take on a paraplegic granny, let alone a full squad of trained soldiers. That meant that the woman and kids were probably actually lost. He had no idea how they could have gotten lost and ended up here, but what better explanation was there?

Maybe the one-eyed guy was secretly Nick Fury, and the girls were ninjas serving the Hand. Yeah right. He had been reading too many comic books lately. Okay. It was time to try being diplomatic.

“Where were you trying to go, Miss, as I'm pretty sure that it wasn't NORAD?”

Buffy cocked her head, making a cute expression of confusion.

“You guys are musicians? I thought that this place repaired tvs.”

The squad leader and his entire squad simply stared at Buffy, having no idea what she was talking about.

That was when Xander chose to cut in, making use of the extremely poor alias Buffy had chosen for this mission.

“No, Fluff, that's not it. You're thinking of Narada: the new age music label. These guys are NORAD.”

One of the enlisted men behind the squad commander, spoke up then, looking disbelieving.

“Wait a second. Your name is Fluff?”

Buffy beamed brilliantly at the man.

“That's me! Fluffy Winters!”

The squad commander fought the urge to roll his eyes. Right. So he was faced with the poster child for the vapid, blonde cheerleaders of America, who had gotten her girl scout troop lost, and ended up at the headquarters for NORAD. Was he on Candid Camera or something?

“Right, Miss Winters.”

“Call me Fluffy,” Buffy piped up.

“Er, sure, Fluffy. Anyway, so where were you actually trying to get to?”

“We want to go back to Colorado Springs!” Buffy chirped.

“Er, right. Then you're going in the wrong direction.”

“But the nice man in the pimpmobile said that we just needed to follow this road north.”

“You're walking south.”

“Oh! Really? So which way should we go now?”

“You need to turn around, and walk in the other direction.”

Buffy's forehead scrunched up, as she began to look confused.

Then she smiled again, and began digging around in her backpack, as the soldiers tensed up, pointing their guns at her. Could they have misjudged this seeming dimwit? Was she just playing them for fools, and now, hoping that they were caught off guard, she planned to go for a weapon?

With a triumphant squeal, the blonde pulled a large map of Colorado out of her backpack. Holding the map out towards the squad leader, as her wide, green eyes stared at the commander entreatingly, Buffy asked for some clarification.

“I don't understand. Could you please show me on this map?”

The squad leader and his men simply looked on in disbelief. No person could possibly be this stupid without a lobotomy or three. Maybe the blonde had a lobotomy in order to try and forget her horrendously awful name.

In fact, the soldiers were so dumbfounded that they did not notice the prepubescent girls, who they had never really considered a potential threat, stealthily closing on their position.

It was all over in an instant. Buffy's slayers, while young, had the strength, speed and innate hunter's instincts required to stalk vampires. Facing normal men, who had scarcely been paying them any attention, they had knocked all the base's gate guards unconscious before any of the squad realized what was happening. However, a mere squad of guards was hardly the only defense put in place in order to safeguard the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain.

Even against a seemingly harmless troop of girl scouts, Cheyenne Mountain's gate guards had scrupulously followed regulations which ensured that, in case a squad of soldiers was caught by surprise, the other three armed squads manning the gate would immediately retreat within the mountain, sealing the six inch thick steel door which was the tunnel entrance's real defense while they awaited reinforcements.

The first lieutenant charged with manning Cheyenne Mountain's entrance immediately pressed a button signaling those within the base that the outer perimeter had been breached, as the steel door settled into place between him and and the mountain's assailants. Then, pulling out his walkie-talkie, the junior officer began radioing additional details to his superiors.

This was a disaster. He had already lost a quarter of his platoon to a bunch of twelve year-old girls. Even if this bizarre frontal assault on Cheyenne Mountain stopped here, he'd be lucky to keep his commission. Then, abruptly, things got worse.

The six inch thick, impenetrable, steel door which he had shut, a door which quite simply could not be opened from the outside with anything short of heavy-duty, armor-piercing shells, began to open again of its own accord. What the Hell?

Frantically pressing the button beside him which was supposed to shut the door, the lieutenant watched in horror as the door opened once more, revealing the ten supposed girls scouts who were assaulting his position with impossible success. Well, they would not be going any further.

“Take aim,” the officer declared, pulling out his own pistol, as his troops lined up shots towards the women and man facing them. “And fire!”

Three dozen bullets exploded towards the ten figures attacking Cheyenne Mountain. Then a red-haired woman standing in front of her nine companions raised one of her hands, piercing, hazel eyes staring towards the mountain's defenders, and the bullets simply stopped in mid-air.

A few of the lieutenant's soldiers swore in disbelief. Then the red-haired woman's eyes focused upon them, as their bullets fell harmlessly to the ground.

“I really don't like guns.”

With a wave of her other hand, the entire platoon was disarmed, automatic weapons skittering away from the soldiers who had held them mere seconds earlier. Then, before his men could even consider retrieving their weapons, they were surrounded by women moving with impossible speed and strength.

The lieutenant found himself grappling with a smoky-eyed brunette for less than a second before she effortlessly broke out of his hold, smirking at him mockingly as she forced his hands behind his back.

“I like a man who knows what to do with his hands.”

Then the lieutenant felt a blow to the back of his head and knew no more.

Faith Lehane turned towards the one-eyed man who had just knocked unconscious her captive through the simple expedient of clubbing him over the head with a wooden stake and glared.

“What'd you do that for? I was just starting to have fun with him.”

The man rolled his one visible eye, gesturing towards the rest of the room with the hand holding his stake. The entire room was covered in unconscious and semi-conscious, groaning soldiers. Meanwhile, Buffy and the mini-slayers were moving towards the elevator which would take them down into the rest of the Cheyenne Mountain complex.

“Um, Faith, we're kind of done here. No time for kinky games right now.”

The brunette scowled.

“You and B never let me have any fun.”

Buffy was already scowling towards the small interior of the elevator.

“We can maybe fit seven or eight of us in this thing if we're willing to get squished, but there's no way we can all go down together.”

Willow looked at the elevator with concern.

“We probably shouldn't go down with more than six people, or else we won't have any room to move if we run into the military at the bottom.”

“If?” Xander queried, raising his eyebrow. “I think you mean when, Will. There's no way those jokers were last army guys we'll be seeing in a place like this.”

“Okay then,” Buffy affirmed. “Four of you guys,” she pointed towards the mini-slayers, “can stay up here, and keep things safe on this end. It shouldn't be too hard. Just close the big door Willow forced open with her magic.”

The younger slayers nodded their assent.

“The rest of us can go down to the telemewhatchamacallit place, spring Andrew and fulfill any other important objectives.”

Xander rolled his eye again.

“You mean like grabbing that lightsaber you want, Buffy?”

Buffy adopted a haughty expression, attempting to guard her dignity while amongst the mini-slayers.

“Amongst other things, yes.”

Xander rolled his eye once more.

By this point, the Scoobies, Faith and two of the mini-slayers were in the elevator which led down to the rest of the mountain's facilities. Operating the elevator required a pass card, but, apparently, a few words of mumbled Latin along with the wave of a powerful witch's hand would also suffice. Thus, fairly rapidly, the elevator, along with its passengers, was moving downwards towards the facilities studying deep space radar telemetry, right at the bottom of the mountain.

A few attempts were made by senior base officers to override and halt the lift, but Willow's magical intervention easily prevented any of these efforts from bearing fruit. Mere moments later, an electronic tone softly chimed in the elevator, indicating that those within the lift had reached the end of their journey.

Steeling themselves for whatever was to come, Buffy, Faith, Xander, Willow and the two younger slayers accompanying them tensed as the lift doors opened, and they stepped out into a hallway filled with soldiers. Apparently leading the large group, an older man who all of Buffy's team recognized as Colonel Jack O'Neill was pointing some kind of strange, metal, snake-like, gun-shaped thing at them.

“Alright then,” he called out. “Shows over. Put your hands into the air. Oh yeah. And if you're thinking of trying any more of that telekinesis crap you did upstairs, you should know that we can flood this whole corridor with knockout gas in about half a second, and then bring in another twenty guys with gas masks about two seconds after that.”

Buffy scanned the corridor, looking for weaknesses, but not finding any obvious means of escape. She frowned.

Jack smirked, as he correctly interpreted the blonde woman's body-language. From the footage he had seen of what happened at the gate, that girl was probably their leader, and she did not look very happy.

“That's right, kids. No way out of this one, so why don't you just give up?”

Even if these kids made a fight of it, the sleeping gas would take them out, and then Teal'c, Daniel and Sam, who were leading the airmen he had picked out for his back-up, could mop up anyone who was left standing. He did not know whether this was the Goa'uld's preteen cheer squad or an op carried out by the NID's brain dead second cousins, but one thing was for sure: these jokers weren't getting one step further into the SGC.




AN: So, was it good, bad, or somewhere in between? Please let me know what you thought of the chapter and any suggestions for things you would like to see in the coming chapters. One thing I can say for this chapter is that it has given me a truly terrible idea for a crack fic in which SG-1 faces off against the true Goa'uld preteen cheer squad. However, I'm not sure that I can bring myself to write something quite that completely ridiculous.
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