Stargate SG-1: Steampunk

Chapter 15 - Crash of the Oscar Deuce One

"What the hell was that?" Lieutenant Sharpe yells.

O'Neill is too busy holding onto the wheel to immediately answer. The plane had suddenly jerked and then lost altitude. O'Neill was able to stop the descent and level out, but something is obviously wrong.

"I don't know. We may have taken damage to a control surface or the hydraulics. I'm having trouble holding it steady. Contact base."

"Oscar Deuce One to Fort Carter. Mayday, mayday. Do you read, over?" He pauses. When there is no response he tries again. "Oscar Deuce One to Fort Carter, come in. This is a mayday. I repeat mayday."

A mild shudder runs through the plane as O'Neill checks the gauges. The rear engine must have taken too much damage for the gauges show it's dead. Though he pulls back on the stick the plane continues to slowly lose altitude.

A faint response comes from Uniform Charlie One instead of Fort Carter. "Uniform Charlie to Oscar Deuce One. We read you. What is your emergency?"

"Rear engine out. We are paralleling Itutara river on way to base. Losing altitude. Will stay up as long as possible. We may have to set down on the riverbed. Oscar Deuce One Out."

"Roger. We'll come back for you as soon as we can refuel. Over."

O'Neill struggles to keep the plane flying but after a few minutes he realizes it's a lost cause.

"See a spot where we can land?"

The lieutenant looks out both sides of the aircraft. He points to the left. "It looks flat and solid enough over there."

"Okay. I'll make a slow circle, kill some altitude, and bring it in slowly. Hold on."

O'Neill banks gently to the left. He moves the throttle forward just a bit. As he does the forward engine coughs. He straightens out and pulls the throttle back. The engine continues sputtering.

"Okay. Forget that. Backup plan. I'm taking her down now. Brace yourself."

O'Neill puts the flaps down and pulls the throttle back. As he struggles to keep the nose up he hopes he can glide in and drop gently onto the riverbed. The forward engine coughs and dies while they are still twenty feet in the air. He has to use all his strength to move the wheel forward just enough so they can continue gliding. He tries to relax just as the plane hits the sand. The plane rolls a few feet until the landing gear collapses. They slide a dozen or so feet before the nose digs into the sand. Fortunately, the plane's forward momentum isn't enough to cause the aircraft to flip onto its back. The aircraft falls back onto the sand with a loud thump. As it does they hear and feel the tail booms break off.

"You alright, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Sir. How about you?"

"Okay, so far." He does a quick check to be sure they aren't on fire. "I guess it's good we were so low on fuel."

They unbuckle their harnesses and struggle to open the doors against the sand. They make their way out of the plane and take several steps away.

"Well, Sir," the lieutenant says as he examines the plane, "a little bit of duct tape, wire, and bubble gum and she'll be good as new."

O'Neill looks at the broken tail booms, the crumpled landing gear, and the holes along the fuselage. He wonders how they escaped injury with just a leg wound.

"How's the leg?" O'Neill asks.

"Still oozing. Guess I'll be okay."

"Okay. Well, take a seat. Let me dig out the first aid kit and see what I can do about that leg."