Blind Man's Bluff 
By Kathy Dickinson - gadkad@aol.com

RATING: PG

WARNINGS: Language

CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Angst; Indiscriminate 
whumping, primarily Jack

SPOILERS: None

TIME FRAME: Season 3 and/or 4

SUMMARY: It's another routine mission gone awry, when renegade Jaffa 
invade P3X 873 and the SG-1 team must push themselves to the limit to 
save the peaceful inhabitants.  But just because the war is over doesn't 
mean all the battles have been fought. 

URL: http://www.rdads.com/

DISCLAIMER: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of 
Stargate SG-1 (II) Productions Inc, Showtime/Viacom Networks Inc, MGM/UA 
Worldwide Television Productions Inc, Double Secret Productions, and 
Gekko Film Corp. This is purely a work of fan fiction and is not 
intended to infringe upon those rights. These stories are for 
entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright 
infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and 
stories are the property of their author. These stories may not be 
posted elsewhere without the consent of their author. Reproduction or 
redistribution of these stories by any means, electronic or otherwise, 
is prohibited. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Many, many thanks to many people.  To my beta readers - 
Mingo, Elaine,Tanya, Carol and Kay - thanks so much for your help and 
advice. Especially Elaine, who kept telling me I could do better.  And a 
special thanks to Skydiver, who answered Mingo's request for technical 
advice with no idea it would end up in my hands.  And to all the rest of 
the RDADs, whose encouragement and moral support means the world to me.

This is my first "serious" Stargate story and it's been quite an 
undertaking. Feedback is appreciated, but if you must flame, please use 
a candle instead of a blowtorch.


                         *******************

Colonel O'Neill sat where they put him, and wondered if he'd ever be 
able to see again.

He shifted slightly, trying to ease the stiffness of a bruised hip and 
wrenched knee. He could hear Major Carter talking softly to Teal'c and 
Daniel. There was worry in her voice, but no panic. Good girl. She'd get 
them safely back to the Gate.

Jack turned bandaged eyes toward the voices of his teammates.

"Carter, what's our position?"

"We're on the bluff just above the village, Sir. The Horus Guards got 
everyone rounded up and put them in the square. I think . . ." Sam 
hesitated, cleared her throat. "I think they're trying to separate the 
town leaders."

Sam could see a half dozen of the Jaffa warriors using their staff 
weapons to work their way through the frightened townspeople, and they 
weren't being any too gentle. As she watched, the town's Mayor and 
council members were pushed out of the crowd and forced to kneel before 
the leader of the guards. One man tried to resist and was knocked nearly 
senseless with one swing of a staff weapon. They could hear a sickening 
thud as the weapon met the man's skull and he pitched forward, unable to 
keep his balance.

The Jaffa leader's mask retracted to reveal a heavy, brutal face. The 
man began to speak, pacing back and forth in front of the huddled crowd, 
gesturing towards the cowed town leaders.

O'Neill cocked his head, trying to hear over the soft sigh of wind 
through leaves, the breathing of his teammates, and the sound of his own 
heartbeat.

He shook his head and was rewarded with a sharp stab of pain across his 
eyes. He swallowed the hiss of pain, involuntarily bringing up one hand 
to feel the bandages that covered his eyes. 

"Sir?"

He could hear the concern in her voice, couldn't afford to respond to 
it.

"I'm fine," he whispered harshly. "Teal'c? What's he saying?"

"He is telling them they are the Horus Guards, protectors of the God 
Heru'ur. He says the people of this world have a duty to provide food 
and shelter for the Servants of the God Heru'ur. They must cooperate and 
no one will be injured."

Teal'c paused to listen as the leader of the Horus guards turned towards 
the men kneeling in the dirt at his feet. "He is telling the Mayor and 
the other leaders they will be held responsible for the actions of their 
people." Teal'c's voice stopped suddenly.

Jack heard Sam's indrawn breath and Daniel's agonized denial. There was 
the peculiar electrical sound of a staff weapon discharge. Once, twice, 
and yet a third time. Cries from the crowd, then stunned silence.

"What happened? What are they doing down there?" Jack's whispered voice 
was urgent.

It was finally Daniel that answered. "They just . . . three of them . . 
. One of the councilmen. A woman. And a . . . a child. They killed 
them."

                         *******************

It had started out like any other mission. Preliminary surveys from the 
MALP and UAV had found P3X 873 to be pleasant and serene, it's agrarian 
culture seemingly untouched by the ravages of the Goa'uld. The nearest 
village was over 20 miles away from the Stargate, so SG-1 had shouldered 
their packs and hiked their way through peaceful meadows and low hills, 
and had been welcomed with friendly curiosity by the inhabitants of the 
town.

They called their world Gem, and their village Teosa. They were fully 
aware their people had been transplanted from another world centuries 
before, but the last visit from the gods was so long ago they'd almost 
forgotten about it. Years ago one of their explorers had actually opened 
the gate and gone through, but he'd never returned, and no one since had 
felt the urge to explore in that particular direction. 

Why should they, Schoolmaster Tauke had explained, when there was still 
so much to find here? 

Their culture was just beginning to move past their iron age to 
experimenting with metal alloys, and Carter had been particularly 
interested in a steel derivative that appeared to use trinium.

They'd spent nearly a week on Gem, enjoying the hospitality of the 
Teosans and learning more about their culture and the nature of the land 
around them.

Sam had spent time with the local metal workers, learning their methods 
of mining and refining the raw ore in the hills to the north. Daniel had 
immersed himself in the mundane duties and routine of the people, 
finding seeds of ancient earth cultures in their language and customs.

And Jack and Teal'c had gone hunting. 

                         *******************

The team withdrew from their viewpoint on the ridge, climbing further up 
the trail and back into the bluffs away from the edge, taking refuge in 
a thick stand of trees. Teal'c led Jack to a fallen tree trunk and 
helped him sit, lowering him carefully so as not to jar his injured left 
leg. 

Jack sighed in relief as he took the weight off his leg. This morning, 
when they'd left for the 20-mile hike to the Stargate, he'd been 
confident the stiffness in his leg would soon work itself out. But that 
was before they'd spent the better part of the afternoon skulking around 
in the woods hiding from the enemy Jaffa, crawling through dense 
underbrush and playing statue every time an invader glanced their way. 

His eyes throbbed with a dull burning pain, banked embers ready to flare 
into hungry flames if he so much as moved his head too suddenly, or 
stumbled over a tree root or a lousy pebble hidden in the grass.

He didn't want to think about his eyes. There wasn't time, and he just 
couldn't spare the energy.

"All right, kids, what have we got here? Who *are* these guys?"

"I thought at first they were Horus Guards, Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c 
answered first. "But there are other guards present as well. Serpent 
Guards, from Apophis' troops, and several from Sokar. And their leader 
is Kho'rak. He was a Serpent Guard, yet he wears the armor of Heru'ur. I 
knew him when I was First Prime to Apophis. "

"So what are you saying, Teal'c? That this is some kind of alliance of 
Goa'uld?"

"I don't think so, Sir," Sam answered him. "Or at least, not of the 
Goa'uld. I think these Jaffa are on their own."

"Sam's right, Jack," Daniel interjected. "The soldiers we saw down there 
look like they're on the run. They're armor is all mixed up. Some of 
them don't even have helmets. They look . . . sloppy."

"Teal'c?"

"I concur. Perhaps they were displaced when Apophis took control of 
Sokar's fleet. Perhaps they ran away, rather than serve Apophis. They 
have joined forces to consolidate their strength."

"So you're saying we have a bunch of deserters on our hands? What do 
they want? Didn't they tell the Teosans they still serve Heru'ur?"

"It could be a . . . a ruse," Daniel explained. "They probably just 
wanted to scare the Teosans into cooperating. Make them *think* they 
still serve the gods so they won't try to fight back."

Jack turned his bandaged face to the right, towards Sam's voice. 
"Carter?"

"Yes, Sir, it makes sense. They could do this anywhere - Gate onto a new 
world, intimidate the locals and take what they want, then get out 
before anyone has a chance to fight back."

Jack's reaction was immediate and automatic. "Well, they're not going to 
do it here, " he announced. "Okay, how many do we have?"

Sam looked at the other two. "I counted maybe fourteen."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Sixteen." 

"Seventeen." Sam and Teal'c turned to Daniel. "There was a Wolf Guard by 
the Council Hall. He came out after . . . after they shot . . . ."

"All right. Seventeen it is. And we have to figure they left a few more 
to guard the gate." Jack paused, clearly weighing his options. "Carter, 
how fast can you and Teal'c make it to the Stargate and back?"

"Sir?"

"I said, how long will it take the two of you to get to the Stargate. I 
want you two to go back to the Gate, radio General Hammond and request 
reinforcements. Daniel and I will stay here and wait for you."

"But, Sir, we can't leave you here - "

"Major Carter, that is an order," he snapped back. Jack stopped himself, 
ran a hand through his graying hair. "Sam, we're outnumbered four to 
one," he said more kindly. "Five to one if you don't count the cripple. 
We need reinforcements. I can't move fast enough, I'd just slow you 
down. Those people down there don't have that much time. Daniel?" Jack 
held his hand out for help.

Jackson moved to Jack's side and pulled him up.

Jack lifted his face to look her in the eye. And swallowed a snort at 
his own sick joke. 

"Daniel will stay here with me. He can keep an eye on the village, keep 
track of what they're doing until you return. Are we clear, Carter? 
Teal'c?"

Sam eyed her commanding officer. She was worried about him - they all 
were. He was a hard man, stubborn as they come, and not about to give in 
to a few little inconveniences. But he stood awkwardly on one leg and 
obviously needed more than the rough first aid they'd managed so far. 
She knew he had to be worried about his eyes, but he'd managed to push 
it aside to do what he did best -- assess the situation and make hard 
decisions. And he was right, they couldn't handle this situation 
themselves and they needed help.

"Yes, Sir. Twelve hours, Sir."

Jack paused a beat, knowing the others would be watching for his 
reaction to the sudden switch in gears. He let his face go slack, then 
quirked a smile as though suddenly enlightened.

"Ah. Right. Twelve hours it is then." Wouldn't do to disappoint the 
kids.

They spent the next 10 minutes repacking. Sam and Teal'c discarded their 
heavy packs, taking only those items they'd need for a forced march back 
to the gate. Water, MREs, first aid kit, weapons. They planned their 
route carefully, knowing they wouldn't be able to take the open path 
they had followed when they first arrived on Gem. They'd have to keep 
low, stay just within the edge of the forest as long as possible. The 
last two miles were the most dangerous, with no cover available except 
the tall prairie-like grass and an occasional low-lying creek. They 
hoped to circle around behind the Gate, sneak up on any guards that 
might have been left behind and take them out before opening the Gate 
and sending a message through to the SGC.

Finally, they were ready.

Sam walked over to where Jack was sitting on the fallen tree. He looked 
tired, his face below the stained bandages lined with pain and worry. He 
had been massaging his leg, trying to ease his throbbing knee.

 "Sir? We're ready to go."

 The change in Jack's face was like night and day as he lifted his face 
to her voice, smoothing out the lines in a credible effort to project 
optimism and faith in his teammates' abilities. "Check in every two 
hours. Good luck, Carter. Teal'c, don't let her outrun you."

 "I will endeavor to keep up with her, Colonel O'Neill."

 Sam couldn't help but smile at his usual lame humor. "We'll be back 
before you know it, Sir."

 "I know you will, Sam."

 Sam gestured for Daniel to walk with her to the edge of the pocket-
sized clearing they had found. "How is he, Daniel?" she asked in a low 
voice.

 Daniel glanced back at Jack before answering softly. "You know Jack. He 
complains the same whether he's got a hangnail or an arrow in his arm. 
I'm worried about his eyes."

 "Me, too." Sam shook her head and sighed. It didn't matter - her job 
was to get to the Gate as quickly as possible and bring back help - not 
only for the innocent townspeople below, but for the injured Colonel as 
well.

 "Just don't let him get in any trouble while we're gone." 

 As Sam and Teal'c slipped quietly through the trees they heard Jack's 
voice following after them.

"I heard that, Carter."

                         *******************

A dozen men had ridden out on the hunt, including Jack and Teal'c. They 
rode horses - or what passed for horses on Gem. The animals looked like 
somebody had taken the original Earth model and somehow twisted and 
elongated it into a caricature of the real thing. The whithers were high 
and steeply sloped to a narrow back, and the neck and head were longer 
and thinner than they ought to be. But the eyes were large and 
intelligent, and their traveling gait was quick and smooth, and the two 
strangers were soon at ease with their new mounts.

They were hunting Scats. Jack's first inclination was to laugh, but it 
hadn't taken long to revise his opinion as he learned more about the 
beasts.

They had been invited to go along on the hunt by Dagger Jaskoll, the man 
who seemed to serve the town as a combination policeman, magistrate, 
guard and general troubleshooter. He had been preparing for the hunt 
when the strangers had arrived at Teosa but had put it off another few 
days in all the confusion and excitement.

When the Scats had raided the livestock yet again, he decided the hunt 
could wait no longer.

Jack had been surprised and flattered when Dag asked the two of them to 
accompany the hunt, and his enthusiasm was only slightly tempered when 
he was told to leave his MP5 behind in favor of the local weapon of 
choice - bows and arrows. The gun wasn't really meant for these 
circumstances anyway, he reasoned, and looked forward to polishing his 
somewhat rusty skills with a bow. But he took his Beretta along anyway, 
just in case.

Teal'c had simply lifted an eyebrow and flatly refused to leave his 
staff weapon behind. 

The village was nestled at the base of a series of bluffs and ridges, 
founded there more for protection from the weather that periodically 
rolled in off the plains than for protection from other people. The 
Stargate lay roughly 90 degrees and 20 miles to the east, across rolling 
hills and skirting the edge of a dense forest. In front of the village 
was an open plain.

The hunters traveled up, through and around the bluffs behind the 
village, following a trail that became increasingly narrow and steep. At 
mid morning they crested a hill and were met with a stunning vista of 
distant mountains, a gleaming river wandering its way through a broad 
savanna, and the quiet valley where the townspeople made their home. 
They could see faint traces of other villages, as well as the marks of 
well-traveled roads through the grasslands.

Jack and Teal'c had been placed in the middle of the group - so they 
could be observed and judged, they figured, until they proved their 
worth to the company. They'd both heard the muttered grumblings from 
several of the men as they started out - a whispered word about 
"amateurs," and a complaint that sounded suspiciously like "pain in the 
ass."

Teal'c had met Jack's eye with an elegantly raised brow, and the two of 
them had exchanged a wealth of information in one glance.

Jack dismounted stiffly, swearing he'd add horseback riding to his 
weekly fitness routine when they got back from the mission. The 
condition of his legs and backside wasn't helped by watching Teal'c 
dismount with his usual fluid grace, or catching the covert looks of the 
other men in the group.

Jaskoll cantered up to him with a grin, and Jack knew he'd taken in 
every grimace and stretch. Dag was a big man, powerfully built, a 
natural leader who seemed to command a great deal of loyalty and 
confidence from the townspeople. Jack had liked him immediately, and had 
found him to be intelligent and thoughtful. His feelings had been 
reinforced the first time he noticed the gleam of humor that always 
seemed to lurk in the quiet blue eyes.

 "We're past the worst of it now," Dag said. "We'll let the horses rest, 
get something to eat - then we start hunting." 

 Jack watched as the hunters freed their horses to graze and then 
settled down to eat and rest. Several of the men were checking their 
weapons, testing the pull of their bows one more time or looking for 
imperfections in arrows already inspected a dozen times, or polishing 
the knives they all seemed to carry. He got out his own bow and 
shouldered the quiver that had been strapped to his saddle. 

 "Teal'c," Jack called. He waited while Teal'c made his way to his side, 
then nodded at the tree thirty yards from where they stood. "How far 
d'ya think that tree is from here, Teal'c."

 Teal'c eyed the tree, then looked at Jack. "Twenty-five pro-tecs, 
Colonel O'Neill."

 Jack threw a look full of disgust at his friend and wondered why, just 
once, Teal'c couldn't play along with him. Teal'c merely lifted an 
eyebrow and returned his look with bland innocence.

 Dag spoke up, loud enough for the others to hear. "We would measure 
that in 'terins,' Colonel O'Neill. Perhaps twenty of them."

 "Right. Well let's say, oh . . . thirty yards." He brought the bow up, 
his right fist resting lightly against his chin, and sighted down the 
long shaft of his arrow. He took a deep breath and let go.

 The arrow shot straight and true to the heart of the tree, burying 
itself 6 inches into the soft wood.

 "Very good, Colonel O'Neill," Dag announced. "Do it again."

 Jack calmly nocked another arrow and let it go, watching it bury itself 
beside the first.

 He turned to Teal'c with a confident smirk, but Teal'c had heard the 
faint sigh of relief that had accompanied the arrow's safe arrival at 
the tree. 

 Dag walked over to the tree with Jack to look at the arrow. "Of course, 
I would be more impressed if you could do that from the back of a 
galloping horse."

 Jack lifted the corner of his mouth in a grin meant only for Jaskoll. 
"Don't push it, Dag. That hour of practice last night can't work 
miracles!"

 Dag chuckled softly, and was well pleased with his new friend's 
performance. This should help dispel his men's unease at having the two 
untried strangers in their midst. Hunting Scats was dangerous and 
sometimes deadly, and he didn't blame them for being wary of the Tau'ri. 
He wondered at the level of his own trust in the two men, but felt 
instinctively that their presence would be welcome before the hunt was 
over.

                         *******************

When Teal'c and Sam were safely gone, Daniel turned back to look at 
Jack. He stood there, smiling slightly, shoulders straight and 
projecting an air of confidence despite the decided list to starboard.

 "Jack, they're gone, you can relax now." 

 "Alone at last. I thought they'd never leave." Jack leaned back on the 
fallen tree and tried to look casual. A convulsive shiver ran through 
his body and he started to slip. Daniel hurried over to grab him and 
prop him up.

 "Damn tree tried to push me over. I'm fine." He listened as Daniel 
moved about the camp, and figured he was rearranging their gear. He 
heard the leaves rustling in the breeze, and picked out the faint sounds 
of water being poured from one container to another. He'd never realized 
how noisy Daniel was. He could hear the fabric of his uniform as he 
moved, the metallic sound of his gun as he laid it down on the ground, 
he even heard the creak of his knees when he knelt. 

 He knew when Daniel came back, he could hear him breathing right next 
to him. He could feel him standing there, watching him.

 "Yes, Daniel?"

 Daniel handed him a cup of water and watched over him while he drank.

 "Sam's worried about your eyes."

 Jack quirked his lips in a half smile. "Just a little flashburn. Get me 
back to the SGC, let Doc Fraiser have her way with me, I'll be fine. 
Nothing to worry about." Jack finished the water and handed the cup 
back. Daniel didn't move, and Jack could easily imagine his frown of 
concentration, arms wrapped around himself, while he tried to think of 
something to say.

 "Daniel, why don't you see what they're doing down there," he suggested 
gently.

 "Oh. Right. Are you sure you'll be all right here?"

 "Daniel, I'll be fine. I just need to rest a while. But I need to know 
what they're doing, and since I can't see for myself . . . " he gestured 
vaguely towards his eyes, "you're elected. Now go do your job."

 Daniel stood for a moment, frowning down at his friend in indecision. 
But of course he was right, they needed to know what was going on in 
Teosa. He turned and made his way back towards the edge of the cliff.

 Jack waited until he was sure Daniel was gone. Finally satisfied, he 
allowed a grimace of pain to cross his face as he raised his hands to 
press his fingers hard across his forehead. Trying to massage his 
temples through the bandages, he inadvertently rubbed across the burn. 
He choked and jerked his hand away, losing his balance as he slipped 
down the curve of the fallen tree. His hand snagged on the stub of a 
broken branch and he fell awkwardly, landing on his injured leg. Jack 
stifled the grunt of pain and spit out a muttered curse.

 "Damn tree." 

                         *******************

 The hunters spread out and worked their way through a wide gorge, 
looking for likely caves the pack of Scats might be using for their den. 
Dag had filled them in on their prey's habits as they rode that morning. 
They were vicious animals, large and shaggy with thick fur coats and 
mouths full of more teeth than any one animal deserved. They lived and 
hunted in packs of 10 to 15 members, one dominant male controlling the 
group. They usually kept to the hills and left the livestock alone, but 
every few years the pack grew too large and they started encroaching on 
more civilized territory. Dag admitted he should have led a hunt much 
sooner, but a series of incidents had kept him busy with his other 
duties and the hunt had been put off until now.

 Teal'c found the first den.

 The animals smelled. It was a sharp, thoroughly unpleasant odor that 
reminded him of death and decay and too many missions in the service of 
his former god. He curled his lip in disgust and led his fellow hunters 
to the cut in the bank that hid a shallow cave. The hunters dismounted 
and positioned themselves around the entrance to the cave and waited. 
Dag lifted an ornate whistle and blew hard. Once, and they heard canine 
whimpers from inside the cave. Twice, and they heard angry snarls. Dag 
waited a moment, then blew a third time.

The animals came boiling out of the cave in a mass of teeth and fur and 
blurred bodies. Teal'c stood his ground and fired his staff weapon at 
the nearest body. The animal screamed and kept coming. He fired again 
and the animal dropped, its fur smoking from the energy blasts.

Teal'c realized he'd been hearing a peculiar guttural wailing from the 
Scats, a counterpoint to the higher-pitched shouts and yells from the 
men. He crouched and whirled around, looking for more of the enemy. He 
relaxed when he saw his comrades all standing, the fallen Scats at their 
feet. He met their eyes, and was pleased to see the respect in their 
gaze. He had met their enemy without fear, and had prevailed. 

The men moved among the dead animals, retrieving those arrows that were 
unbroken or buried shallow enough in the dead flesh of the Scats to be 
easily withdrawn. Teal'c was mildly surprised to note there were only 
five of the animals - there had seemed to be many more of them.

Jack was standing beside Dag, looking at one of the dead beasts. His 
second arrow had penetrated the Scat's flank and had done little more 
than slow it down. His first arrow had missed.

Dag nudged the carcass with the toe of his boot. "Next time, Colonel 
O'Neill," he said seriously, "try not to miss the first shot. You don't 
always get a second." He hid his smile as O'Neill grunted his disgusted 
reply.

 The men piled the dead Scats at the mouth of the cave and left two men 
to begin the messy job of skinning the bodies. While the meat was 
stringy and unappetizing, the green fur was unique and highly prized 
amongst the other villages that traded with Teosa. The two men would 
load the precious cargo on their horses and meet the rest of the party 
back at the village.

 They continued their hunt, for this was only one small den. A younger 
male that had left the pack, taking a few females with him to establish 
his own pack.

 An hour later they had found and dispatched another den, leaving two 
more men behind to harvest the valuable skins. This time several men had 
been injured, the Scats breaking through their covering fire to claw one 
man across the chest and another man down the length of his leg. 
Teal'c's staff weapon, though unconventional by their standards, had 
saved both of them from worse injury or even death. Jack's aim was 
improving and he had landed four arrows in his targets this time, one of 
them the killing shot on the pack leader.

 After a brief stop to rest and take care of the wounded, they continued 
their hunt, riding further out onto the plateau above the village. The 
men were in good spirits, proud of their success so far and finding 
reasons to laugh with the two Tau'ri strangers.

 It was late in the afternoon when they approached a broad, deep basin 
where Dag felt sure they would find their quarry. He was worried they 
still hadn't found the main pack. They had already expended a great deal 
of energy and adrenaline to destroy the two smaller packs, and he was 
uneasy with the time of day. Scats slept during the heat of the day and 
came out at dusk, ready to hunt and kill.

 The eight riders were just entering the valley when Jack saw his horse 
prick up its ears. The animal snorted and shied, almost unseating him. 
Another horse whinnied nervously, then another. Jack's horse threw back 
its head in alarm, and then the Scats were upon them.

 The beasts had circled around behind them and attacked. They flowed 
like muddy rapids around the horses, snapping and clawing at unprotected 
legs, jumping up to sink their teeth into soft flesh. One man cursed as 
he fought off a Scat with his dagger, another screamed as a Scat caught 
his leg in its powerful jaws. 

 The animals were everywhere and nowhere, their bodies blurring in the 
fading light.

 Dag pulled at the whistle around his neck, brought it up to blow three 
times in quick succession. He shouted at his men, rallying them to 
defend themselves and attack the Scats. He found his own bow and grabbed 
at his arrows, sending them shooting one after another into the roiling 
mass of fur. He aimed low, praying he'd hit Scat, not man or horse.

 Jack didn't even try for his bow, there was no way he'd be able to aim 
well enough to do any good. He pulled his gun out and emptied his clip 
into the beasts, seeing two drop as he hit them. 

 He grabbed at the saddlehorn as his horse suddenly reared and struck 
out at the nearest Scat, its hoof landing a glancing blow. The beast 
turned on the horse like quicksilver and attacked from the rear, 
severing its hamstring and tearing a huge chunk of flesh out of its 
flank. The horse went down with a scream, pinning Jack beneath its 
convulsing body. He grabbed frantically at his belt, searching for his 
spare clip. He could hear the whine of Teal'c's staff weapon and spared 
half a thought for the big Jaffa, glad he was still up and giving the 
bastard beasts hell. 

 He finally found the clip, slammed it home and slid the bolt back, 
looked up just as a Scat landed on his horse and tore out another piece. 
He fired rapidly into the beast, his bullets tracing a bloody path from 
haunch to shoulder. The Scat screamed at him and twisted back out of the 
way, choking on its own blood. Yet another Scat leaped onto the dying 
horse's shoulder and loomed over him, spit and blood slavering out its 
open mouth. He brought up the gun and emptied it into the beast's head. 
Blood and brains splattered over him and the beast collapsed, its fangs 
only inches from his face.

 Jack nearly passed out from the Scat's fetid breath, and cursed himself 
for a fool for wasting bullets on an animal already dead. He grabbed at 
the body, furiously wrenching it out of the way so he could *see.* 

 The battle swirled around him, men shouting in anger and fear, horses 
screaming, Scats howling as they all fought and died.

 He pushed against the dead weight of his horse and tried to pull his 
leg free, pounding on dead flesh in frustration when nothing moved. He 
looked up to see Dag and Teal'c standing back-to-back, surrounded by 
Scats. Teal'c had somehow lost his staff weapon and the two of them held 
daggers, slashing and parrying to keep the beasts at bay.

 Jack scrabbled at the ground beneath his horse, dragging handfuls of 
dirt out from under his leg. He gritted his teeth and pushed off against 
the horse one more time. He felt his knee pop with the effort, but this 
time his leg moved an inch. Again, his lips pulled back in a feral grin 
that rivaled the Scats for ferocity, and his leg was half free. And 
again, until at last he was free.

 Jack pulled himself up to his knees, his left leg screaming in protest. 
He was alone, an island of calm in a hurricane of death. He must have 
been hidden by the dead horse, his scent disguised by the dead Scat. He 
still had his knife, but his gun was empty and his leg incapable of 
taking him anywhere in time to do any good.

 With no other option, he unfastened his bow, miraculously unbroken, and 
pulled out the quiver of arrows. He nocked the first arrow and raised 
the bow, sighting on the nearest Scat. They moved so fast, he couldn't 
possibly do any good this way!

 But he didn't have any choice.

 Taking a deep breath, narrowing his focus, he gently released the 
arrow. 

 The bastard beast howled as an arrow blossomed in its chest and it 
turned to face its new enemy, giving Dag the chance to grab its head and 
run his blade across its throat.

 With no time to stop and think, Jack raised the next arrow and shot 
again. He missed.

 He muttered a curse and reached for his next arrow, nocked it, and 
released. This time he didn't miss, and Teal'c quickly dispatched the 
wounded beast. 

 He shot again, and this time only landed his arrow in the beast's ribs, 
hardly fazing it. But then another arrow came flying in from somewhere 
behind him, hitting the beast squarely between the eyes. Jack pulled out 
another arrow and shot again with more confidence, knowing now that he 
wasn't the only one still shooting.

 The other men, realizing finally that they were winning the battle, 
fought their way to Dag's side. Within minutes, it was all over.

 Jack leaned heavily on his bow as he climbed slowly to his feet. He 
counted over 15 dead Scats before he lost interest. Two men were dead 
and another nearly so, and the rest of them were badly scratched and 
bitten. Teal'c sported a set of matched claw marks on his arms, and 
blood stained his pants leg where a Scat had clamped its jaws around his 
ankle before it died. Of them all, Jack was the only one to survive 
without a scratch. 

 It wasn't exactly the triumphant return to the village they'd all 
envisioned, but they did return. They'd lost two men and four horses, 
but they'd killed 27 of the Scats. Not all of them, by any means, but 
enough to make their pastures safe for another year or two. They had 
salvaged most of the Scat hides - not a fair trade, considering what 
they'd lost, but it would have to do. As was their custom, the profits 
from trading the hides would go to the widows of the two men that had 
been killed.

 The ride back to Teosa had been hard on all of them. Finding themselves 
short on horses, Teal'c had taken it on himself to make his way on foot. 
The rest had taken turns riding double to spare the remaining mounts, 
and Jack had discovered just how painful it was to ride with a badly 
bruised hip bone and a wrenched knee. But looking at his companions, he 
considered himself lucky.

 The Teosans had celebrated when the hunters returned - a sober, subdued 
kind of celebration. The next day had been spent in mourning and rest, 
and the next day SG-1 had said their good-byes and headed for the 
Stargate.

                         *******************

Jack woke with a gasp and rolled over on one elbow. He raised a hand to 
his eyes, stopping just short of actually touching the bandages. Slowly, 
tentatively, he touched the gauze, tracing the cloth that covered his 
face. So it hadn't been a dream after all.

 Jack smelled wood smoke, then heard the crack of branches being broken 
and fed into a fire.

 "Daniel?"

 "I'm here, Jack."

 Jack laid back down, turning sightless eyes to the unseen sky. "What 
time is it?"

 "Suppertime. And they've only been gone three hours."

 "Three hours? I told them to report in every two hours!"

 "They did, Jack. I turned off your radio so you wouldn't be disturbed. 
They're fine, they're making good time, they expect to get to the Gate 
in another three hours."

 "Oh. You turned my radio off?"

 "Yes, Jack."

 "Well, don't do it again."

 "Yes, Jack."

 Jack shifted, felt behind him for the familiar wood of the fallen tree, 
then pulled himself up to lean against it. He worked his knee, flexing 
and bending the joint, feeling for signs of further swelling and 
stiffness. While it didn't feel any worse, it certainly didn't feel much 
better.

 Daniel came over and handed Jack an MRE, already opened. "Supper, 
Jack." He bent to place a cup at his side. "I made coffee." He took 
Jack's hand and guided it to where he'd placed the cup. 

 "And what have our Jaffa friends been up to?" 

 "A couple of people didn't jump fast enough and they killed them." 
Daniel spoke in a dull, lifeless monotone. Jack recognized that note in 
his voice. In spite of everything they'd been through, the destruction 
they'd lived through and even dealt out themselves, Daniel had never 
gotten used to it. And Jack was damned glad he hadn't.

 "Anything else?" he asked more gently.

 "No. Not really. It's pretty quiet now. They've got them all penned up 
in the town square. They let them get a few things, then they herded 
them up like animals." Daniel paused to take a breath and get his voice 
under control. "I think the Jaffa are still getting themselves 
organized. They pulled out some of the women, made them prepare food for 
them. They're letting everyone else eat now.

 "They've been going through everything, checking out all the homes. 
Taking inventory, probably." He paused. "Jack, I'm worried about the 
townspeople. They're not ready for something like this, they don't stand 
a chance against those bastards!"

 "I know, Daniel, but there isn't anything we can do about it."

 It hurt to see the truth in what Jack said, but Daniel knew he was 
right. They couldn't afford to reveal themselves, or even let the Jaffa 
know they existed. It would just make it worse for the Teosans. And much 
as he hated to admit it, he didn't think one lonely civilian 
archeologist would be much of a match for the enemy - and Jack certainly 
wasn't in any shape to put up a fight. If he could just give them 
something else to think about, some way to distract them . . . .

 "Jack, I've got an idea."

                         *******************

 Daniel Jackson finished changing his clothes and stuffed his SGC 
fatigues into a corner of the darkened building. He'd waited until after 
dark, then made his way down around the bluff and into the outskirts of 
the quiet village. When he'd left Jack in the safety of their hidden 
glade, the Jaffa had appeared to be settled down for the night and - 
hopefully - not expecting any trouble. Daniel had hated the brutal way 
they'd beaten the resistance out of the village, but he was dearly 
hoping now that it had worked, and no one would do anything to get the 
Jaffa riled up again.

 His own plans depended on the Jaffa believing no one would think of 
resisting them.

 He shouldered a soft leather bag and slipped noiselessly out of the 
house, closing the door carefully behind him. This part of the town was 
in darkness, as the Jaffa had drawn in their picket line until they 
covered only the inner circle of buildings around the town square. All 
he had to do was get past the guards and infiltrate the crowd in the 
town square. And then find Saskia. And then get out again. Nothing to 
it.

 While Jack and Teal'c had been out hunting and Sam had been up in the 
mines, Daniel had been learning about village life, learning their 
customs, watching the people cook and clean and shoe horses and tan 
hides, finding out how they *did* things in Teosa. Saskia was the local 
doctor, herbwoman, and midwife in Teosa, and surrogate mother for the 
whole town. She had been more than willing to teach him and had laughed 
at his efforts to experience things hands-on, but she had answered his 
questions until they were both talked out and exhausted. 

 They'd spent one entire afternoon going through Saskia's store of 
herbs. The SGC's mandate was to find technology and allies to help in 
the fight against the Goa'uld. But it also included anything that might 
be helpful to the people of earth in other ways - including medicine. 
And Saskia's herbs had included some very intriguing possibilities. 

 But he wasn't after the spices she used in her cooking and he didn't 
care about the oil she refined from the root of the 'malek' plant that 
made a woman's skin soft and clear. What he wanted was the crushed 
leaves of the 'elim' plant.

 Saskia's home was on the outskirts of town, and he'd had no trouble at 
all breaking into the herbarium where she kept her supplies. He'd had to 
search the shelves - was it the brown and tan jug, or the blue pot? Had 
she said green for food and blue for medicine, or was it the other way 
around? Then what was the brown for??? He'd wasted precious minutes 
standing there, trying to remember what Saskia had said. 

 She'd told him about the cooking spices first - they were in the green. 
Then she'd moved on to the healing herbs and concoctions - that was 
blue. And here, on the top shelf and hidden behind an empty blue pot, 
was the large brown jar of 'elim' leaves - hidden so it wouldn't 
inadvertently be pulled out and used. It was a measure of her trust that 
it was left in her herbarium at all.

 Daniel opened the jar, smelled it - yes, that was it, the pungent, not 
unpleasant aroma he remembered. He put the jar in the leather bag Saskia 
always left in the shed. Now - here in this blue jar - they might need 
that. He put the second container carefully next to the jar in his bag 
and turned to go. 

 He stopped at the doorway - one more thing, why hadn't he thought of it 
before? He turned back to Saskia's shelves and began the search all over 
again. He needed just this one more thing - a blue pot. A paste, of 
sorts. He didn't know if it would work, but he figured it was worth a 
try. There it was - a small blue piece of pottery, its contents half 
gone. Saskia had told him how precious it was, so hard to find the 
ingredients and so time-consuming to make, and she'd used so much of it 
when the hunters had returned from their trip. He put this pot, too, in 
the leather bag.

 Then Daniel had needed to find native clothing to hide himself among 
the townspeople, which had been accomplished by simply entering the next 
house and rummaging through the clothes hanging in the man's sleeping 
room. Now, transformed into a Teosan, he crept soundlessly from one 
darkened building to the next, making his way towards the town square 
where the people were still being held.

 Jack had made him stay up on the ridge and study the town until he had 
memorized the guards' watch patterns. He'd stayed there so long he 
figured he could identify the guards themselves, if he had to. Jack had 
drilled him over and over, made him figure out what move was first, what 
he'd do second, where he'd enter the town from and where he'd leave 
from. What he'd do if he got caught.

 Jack had NOT been happy with his plan. He'd argued against it, had even 
tried to order him not to go. But Daniel had insisted and finally told 
Jack he was going whether he approved or not. And at that point Jack had 
finally given in, but as far as Daniel was concerned his capitulation 
was almost as bad as his arguments. It was amazing how one sick, blind, 
crippled Colonel could be such a bully. He'd made him think his way 
through every aspect of his plan and come up with contingencies for 
everything Jack could throw at him. He'd yelled at him about his 
tendency to go off half-cocked and reminded him that he, Jack, was 
depending on him to get back safely and take care of him.

 That last point had almost made him reconsider - but by that time even 
Jack had agreed with him, they couldn't just sit there and let the Jaffa 
get away with it.

 Daniel crouched beside the last building just outside the Jaffa picket 
line and watched the guards cross in front of him. Jack had made it 
clear they couldn't afford for the Jaffa to find out about the two of 
them - there was no telling what they'd do to the townspeople if they 
were discovered. If there was any doubt he could get through undetected, 
he was supposed to abort the mission and return to base camp. Jack's 
words.

 But Daniel was damned if he was going to let that happen.

 The two Jaffa guards passed in the same pattern he'd memorized from the 
ridge. Daniel counted as they passed each other, and when they were far 
enough apart he scuttled forward, heading for the meager shadow of the 
bushes that graced the side of the Council building. 

 Ten seconds later he was worming his way through the shrubs, looking at 
the next step in his journey.

 The people were being kept in the town square - a sort of park in the 
center of the town, mostly open space with trees and shrubs scattered 
here and there. They'd set up makeshift camps with the few possessions 
the Jaffa had allowed them to keep, mostly blankets and a few clothes. 
Several cookfires still burned, pots of food simmering and setting 
Daniel's mouth to watering. MREs just couldn't compare to the Teosans' 
cooking.

 Daniel was inside the Jaffa perimeter, but he still needed to cross 20 
feet of open ground to get to the park. Then he had to make his way 
around the fires and through the people without being found out, find 
Saskia, and give her the things he'd stolen out of her own herbarium. 
And explain what he wanted her to do with them.

 The guards were spread thin, evidently believing they had managed to 
beat the helpless townspeople into submission. Periodically they would 
make their way through the square, breaking up any gathering of more 
than a few people, shouting at one group or another or randomly 
appropriating someone's food, intimidating the people by their very 
presence.

 Still timing the guards as they made their way around the camp, Daniel 
took a deep breath and took off for the trio of fruit trees at the edge 
of the park. Safe, he pressed into the trunk of the nearest tree, his 
heart pounding and his breath coming in adrenaline-charged gasps. 

 There was a group of people around a small campfire not ten feet away. 
He drifted over, keeping his head down, trying to see if he recognized 
any of them. It would all be so much easier if he didn't have to explain 
who he was and why he was there and what he wanted. He approached the 
man sitting furthest from the fire and sat down beside him. The man 
turned, took him in with one long glance, then turned back to the fire. 

 "Daniel Jackson," the man said quietly. "Here to rescue us?"

 "Ah . . . Well . . . um, sort of. I think so." Taken by surprise, 
Daniel hastily grabbed at his scattered composure and stammered out his 
request. "I have an idea, anyway . . . . I hope it will help . . . . Can 
you tell me where Saskia is?"

 Daniel swore he saw the man's lips twitch in a slight smile. He nodded 
toward the center of the square. "She's further in, with the Mayor and 
the councilmen. They'll be happy to know you're still with us."

 Daniel wanted to offer the man something more, a word of encouragement 
to help him get through the next few hours - but Jack had been very 
clear on that. No talking, no sharing of information. Just in case. 
Daniel knew what that "just in case" meant, and he knew Jack was right. 
"Thanks," he whispered, and got up to make his way further into the 
square.

 It took another half-hour of skulking to make his way undetected 
through the park before he found Saskia. She scolded him, telling him he 
was stupid to do such a foolish and dangerous thing, but she understood 
at once what he wanted of her. She gave a little crow of delight and 
kissed him on the cheek. "Daniel!! What a clever boy you are! Don't 
worry," she said, and promised to see that the contents of the brown jar 
would be put to good use.

 "Saskia, there's something else. It's Jack - he's been injured."

 "His leg?" she said sharply. 

 "No. Yes. Well, that, too, but that's not what I mean. His eyes. He was 
burned. A staff weapon - like the one Teal'c uses. We found the Jaffa, 
they attacked and .. . he took the blast across the face. Not directly, 
thank God, or his face would be hamburger. But bad enough. He can't see. 
He's blind."

 Saskia had been listening carefully to Daniel's explanation. "It's a 
burn, from a weapon like your friend Teal'c carries? I really should see 
it first." She frowned in concentration. "So where is he now? Is he with 
you? You left him alone to come to us?"

 Put that way, Daniel's actions seemed almost derelict. A betrayal, a 
desertion. He nodded miserably. 

 "Can you get back to my herbarium? The 'pava' paste might help . . ."

 Daniel reached into his bag and brought out the small, half empty blue 
pot. "This one?"

 "Ah, you remembered! Yes, that one. Now, if I had him in my care I 
could use the 'pava' to make a compress to soak his eyes. That worked 
when Vonnie burned her hand in the fire last summer . . . ." Saskia 
shook her head. "But I do not *have* him in my care, do I." She looked 
Daniel in the eye, as if weighing his ability to follow her 
instructions. "Now listen to me, Daniel. You must keep the burn clean - 
you have soap and water? - and change the dressing often. There is 
always a danger of infection when we have burns. Melt a bit of the paste 
in boiled water to make a cream, and put the cream over the burn each 
time you change the dressing. You understand? Apply it to the burn 
often," she repeated, "keep it covered, and your Jack should see some 
improvement."

 Saskia looked at Daniel doubtfully. "I've never seen one of your weapon 
burns, but it worked for Vonnie, and when Dag's brother's youngest child 
fell into the fire he was supposed to be staying away from . . ." She 
lifted her face to look directly into his eyes. "But, Daniel - there can 
be no guarantees."

                         *******************

Jack thought he might go crazy before Daniel came back from his hare-
brained, foolish, asinine, completely stupid trip down to the village. 
With a little unfortunate experience, he'd managed to find every dip and 
rise in the tiny clearing and had discovered how many limping steps he 
could go in any direction before running into a bush or a root or an 
overhanging branch. His efforts to conserve his energy by sitting on the 
fallen tree had lasted all of five minutes, an eternity in his darkened 
world. 

 He couldn't stop imagining all the things that could go wrong, all the 
ways that Daniel could forget the plan and take off all unthinking and 
just make things worse. Get himself killed, even.

 He shivered.

 Trust Daniel to think of the safety of all those people down there, and 
then not be satisfied with the easy answer. The smart answer, he 
corrected himself. Why on earth had he given in to him? 

 God, he wished it was him. 

 But a blind man wasn't good for much when it came to sneaking around 
and saving a few hundred people from some rebel Jaffa. 

 A blind man wasn't good for much of anything, in his line of work.

 Jack turned and felt his way over to where they'd piled their packs. He 
carefully lowered himself to the ground and found his MP5. Slowly, 
methodically, he took it apart and put it back together. And then he did 
it again, faster. And twice more, until he was satisfied he hadn't lost 
his touch. Then he got out his Beretta and did the same thing.

 He wondered how long it had been since Daniel had left, and how much 
longer before he'd be back.

 He almost jumped out of his fatigues when his radio crackled to life. 
Was it really time for Carter to make the next report? 

 "Colonel!! We've been ambushed, Sir!"

 He fumbled for the transmit button on his radio. "Carter! What's your 
situation? Report!" He nearly barked the command. 

 "We didn't make it to the Gate, Sir. We're close - but they left more 
guards than we expected." Jack thought he heard the whine of staff 
weapon fire in the background. "We took out two of them, but I think - 
Teal'c, look out!"

 The transmission stopped while Jack ground his teeth in frustration.

 "Carter! Major Carter, report!"

 Minute after minute crawled by, until the radio finally came to life 
again with Teal'c's voice.

 "Colonel O'Neill. Major Carter has been hit. I will continue to the 
Gate. Four of the Jaffa are down, but there are at least four more. I 
believe this would be a good time to wish me luck."

 "Understood, Teal'c. Bring back our reinforcements. We'll hold down the 
fort till you get here." Jack paused to steady his voice. "Good luck, 
Teal'c." 

 There was no reply.

 Jack picked up his Beretta and took it apart one more time. The guide 
rod wouldn't fit back in place and he jammed it in as hard as he could. 
He paused, took a deep breath, and slowly finished his task. He put the 
gun carefully back in its holster at his side.

 It was all his fault.

 Getting unsteadily to his feet, he made his way over to his usual spot 
and slowly lowered himself to the ground. He shivered again and hunched 
down inside his jacket.

 God, he wished Daniel would get back.

                         *******************

 They tried to leave early for the Stargate, but it seemed the entire 
town had turned out to say good-bye. Dag was there, and the Mayor, and 
Saskia, and all the other council members. Dag gave Jack a pair of 
Scathide gloves, the fingers carefully cut out. He had a dagger for 
Teal'c, the ornate handle carved into the likeness of a green-eyed Scat. 
The miners presented Sam with a rare geode, a nugget of pure trinium at 
its heart. Saskia gave Daniel one of her children's picture books, one 
she had made herself, the one that told the story of how her people came 
to be on Gem.

 Daniel gave them a nice speech and the Teosans cheered and applauded 
and sent them along their way. 

 Dag was riding along with them, having announced he was curious about 
the Stargate and that he wanted to see it in operation. He didn't 
mention how Saskia had drawn him aside that morning and told him in no 
uncertain terms he was to make sure the Tau'ri made it safely to the 
Gate, and that included offering his horse to the stubborn Colonel when 
his leg gave out. Which she was sure it would.

 They'd been taking it slow, in deference to Jack's gimpy leg. Sam was 
telling them all about the mine and her suspicions that it held yet 
another rare ore that she hadn't been able to identify, and how she 
could hardly wait to get back to the lab to run tests on her samples. 
And Daniel was excited about the hints of ancient earth cultures he'd 
been able to identify and was speculating about why there seemed to be 
several disparate root languages represented in the villagers' speech.

 Jack had allowed himself to relax in the familiar comfort of his 
scientists' excited chatter. It had been a good week. The Teosans were 
friendly and intelligent, eager to ally themselves with the people from 
Earth. He wished more of their missions could go like this one. And he 
was thinking about how much his leg hurt, and how far it was to the 
Gate, instead of how to keep them all safe.

 It was all his fault.

 They were walking through a shallow creek bed and Daniel had turned 
around, walking backward, trying to explain to Jack about the languages 
thing, when the three Jaffa seemed to drop out of the sky into their 
midst.

 The Jaffa behind Daniel raised his staff weapon to shoot him in the 
back. Jack shouted and lunged forward, shoved him out of the way just as 
his leg collapsed under him. He rolled, shouting for the others to take 
cover. He came to his knees, raised his gun and heard Daniel yell his 
name. Jack jerked his head back just as a staff weapon discharged, the 
trailing edge of energy flaming across his face. He heard Dag's horse 
scream, and he pulled the trigger on his MP5 and heard the metallic ping 
of bullets hitting enemy armor. The body thudded to the ground and he 
grabbed at his eyes, a burning flame of agony wrapped around his head. 

 He collapsed in pain, barely aware of the bullets and staff blasts 
flying over him. The battle was over in seconds, leaving three dead 
Jaffa and one blinded Colonel. The horse lay dying on the ground, his 
master gone and no time to look for him.

 Sam and Daniel grabbed his arms and pulled him up. "Sir, we've got to 
go, there's more coming!" 

 They had run, Daniel supporting his weight and pulling him on, playing 
a deadly game of hide and seek with the invading Jaffa. They had stopped 
once briefly so Sam could clean his burned eyes, the shock of cold water 
on burned flesh almost unbearable. She'd quickly wrapped the bandage 
around his eyes and they'd been on the move again. Eventually they'd 
made their way back to the ridge above the village.

 So here they were, trapped on Gem with a score of enemy Jaffa on the 
loose. Sam was down and God forbid, maybe even dead. Teal'c was on the 
run and trying to reach the Stargate. Daniel had gone missing on a 
desperate mission to help the people of Teosa. And here he sat, blind 
and helpless, crippled, totally worthless, with nothing he could do 
except wait.

 It was all his fault. He had a duty to take care of his command, he 
didn't have the right to relax and endanger their lives. It was his job 
to see they all made it safely home, and he'd failed.

 Jack bowed his head and buried his face in his hands, welcoming the 
pain as his fingers pressed hard into his burned eyes.

                         *******************

 It was well past midnight, the twin moons high and bright in the sky, 
when Daniel ducked under the drooping branches of a tree and stepped 
quietly into the glade where he'd left Jack. He took one step and froze 
at the sound of a gun being cocked. "Jack? It's me!"

 "Daniel?" The voice was hoarse, suspicious. "Is that you?"

 Daniel finally found Jack, hidden in the gloom just under the trees on 
the other side of their camp. He held his gun outstretched in both 
hands, rock steady, aimed directly at him. His face was hidden in 
shadows, the bandage around his head a faded white ghost.

 "Jack! Of course it's me. What are you doing?"

 Jack uncocked the gun and slowly lowered his arms, hoping Daniel 
wouldn't see the tremors in his hands. "You're okay?"

 Daniel shrugged. "Of course I am."

 "I take it you were successful? How are they doing down there?"

 "Actually, a lot better than I expected." Daniel stepped into their 
tiny camp. "They're scared but nowhere close to giving up yet." He 
peered at Jack, his face still hidden in the deep shadows of the trees. 
"Jack, are you all right?"

 "Carter and Teal'c reported in while you were gone." He holstered his 
gun and stepped forward. "Carter's down, Teal'c's still trying to get to 
the Stargate."

 Daniel was stunned at the news. He'd been confident that Sam and Teal'c 
would make it to the Gate and bring back reinforcements, that it was all 
just a matter of time. Now - "Is she all right? Is she . . . ."

 "Teal'c said she was hit. He didn't say anything else."

 Jack had rehearsed the words a thousand times, trying to figure how 
he'd tell Daniel. They hadn't come out anything like he'd planned. 
"Daniel, we don't know how badly she was hit. She's probably fine. She's 
good, she can take care of herself," he said confidently. Words he'd 
told himself countless times while he waited alone in the dark. "And you 
know Teal'c, you *know* he'll find a way to get to the Gate."

 Daniel blinked at him, trying to take it all in. He'd come back to 
their camp still on an adrenaline high, excited at his success, eager to 
tell Jack what he'd done. It had been a dangerous, daring plan, a gamble 
Jack hadn't wanted him to take. But he'd gone anyway, and he'd done the 
job. He'd accomplished his mission and lived to tell the tale. 

Now all he could think of was Sam, hit and maybe dead, and Teal'c out 
there alone still fighting, running, trying to get to the safety of the 
Gate.

 "Jack, I should go -- " Daniel began. His first instinct was to go 
after Sam, he couldn't bear the thought that she might be out there 
wounded, waiting for help that only he could give. But he couldn't leave 
Jack alone, he was in no shape to take care of himself and he badly 
needed what little medical attention Daniel could offer. 

 "Don't even think about it," Jack's hard voice cut him off. "We don't 
know where she is, or how many of those bastards are out there. We 
wouldn't even know where to look." His mouth twisted and he went on in a 
softer voice. "I can't let you go, Danny. I can't take the chance of 
losing you, too."

 Jack took another step forward, stumbled and nearly fell, muttering a 
curse. Daniel hurried forward and caught his arm. He was surprised at 
the way Jack clutched at his hand, squeezing nearly tight enough to 
leave bruises. Up close, he could see Jack shivering, and his skin felt 
hot and dry. His face in the bright moonlight looked flushed, though for 
all he knew that might be from the burn. Much as Daniel needed to go 
find Sam, right now Jack needed him just as much.

 "God, Jack, you look terrible. What have you been doing up here?"

 "Played a little hopscotch. Did a little stargazing. What the hell did 
you think I was doing."

 Jack let Daniel lead him back to his spot by the fallen tree. He felt 
like he knew every lump of dirt and every blade of grass at that spot, 
he'd spent so much time there. 

 Jack turned his head up towards Daniel. "So tell me about it, Danny."

 Jackson busied himself building up their fire while he told Jack about 
his foray into the town. He took out Saskia's little blue pot and 
scooped out a finger full of the greasy substance, dropping it into the 
cup of water he'd put on the fire to heat. He filled him in on the 
Mayor's efforts to keep his people from giving up hope, and Saskia's 
almost gleeful approval of their plan to keep the Jaffa "distracted," 
while he heated more water for coffee.

 Jack listened carefully, asking Daniel several times how many Jaffa 
soldiers he'd seen, what did they look like, what else could he describe 
about them. How were the people, did they have any weapons, how were 
they holding up? 

 Finally debriefed to Jack's satisfaction, Daniel handed him a cup of 
coffee and cleared his throat.

 "Jack, there's something else. I talked to Saskia about your eyes."

 Jack's face grew still. "What'd you do that for," he said flatly.

 "I thought she might be able to help." He hurried to explain before 
Jack could object. "She gave me something to put on your eyes. A salve. 
She told me how to make it and how to use it. She said it would help."

 "I told you, it's just a little flashburn. I'll be fine as soon as I 
get back . . . ."

 "Exactly." Daniel cleared his throat. "Jack, the bandages need changing 
and I need to wash out the burn. And I need . . . I need to see how bad 
. . . ," his voice faded away.

 "See how bad they are? See if anything's left?" Jack's voice was harsh, 
filled with undercurrents of fear, pain and anger, all the cocky 
confidence gone now.

 Daniel sighed. Jack certainly wasn't making this any easier. "I just 
need to change the bandages, Jack. So shut up and let me get to it."

 Jack opened his mouth to snap out an angry reply and thought better of 
it. None of this was Daniel's fault, and it wasn't fair to take his own 
frustrations out on him.

 "All right. Have at it, Dr. Jackson. But don't you dare tell me this is 
going to hurt you more than it's going to hurt me."

 In the end it was probably a toss up.

 Daniel tried to be gentle, he knew it had to hurt. The bandage was 
stuck to the wound and had to be soaked with warm water before he could 
peel it off, taking pieces of skin and flesh with it. That finally done, 
he cleaned the seeping wound as best he could with their limited 
supplies, trying not to do any more damage to Jack's ravaged face. 

 By the time he was done, he felt as pale and clammy as Jack looked.

 Daniel sat back on his heels and, for the first time, really looked at 
the wound. It was only the very edge of the blast that had caught Jack 
across the eyes, scorching his eyelids as well as the skin from his 
cheekbones to his forehead. His eyebrows were singed, his eyes were 
swollen shut, the skin raw and blistered. Daniel had seen enough staff 
wounds - and had enough of his own - to know what they felt like. 
Besides the burn itself, the power discharge tended to disrupt cells and 
nerve synapses. One of the most common effects was the tendency to 
experience aftershocks - sudden flashes of pain as random impulses 
forced their way along damaged nerve endings.

 He could only guess about the long-term effects of a staff weapon 
discharge so close to the eyes.

 Shivering, Jack laid his head back against the tree and tried to calm 
his ragged breathing. He unclenched his hands and rested them on his 
legs, palms up. "Daniel, what . . . what does it look like." 

 It was the question Daniel had been dreading, and he still hadn't 
decided how to answer it.

 "It's a staff weapon burn, Jack, what do you think it looks like."

 "Ah. That bad." 

 Jack turned his head away and tried to think. He'd always believed you 
had to play with the hand that life dealt you. Life wasn't fair and you 
just had to make the best of it. It wouldn't do any good to wonder what 
if. What if he'd been paying attention back there, what if he'd moved 
faster when Daniel warned him, what if the staff weapon had missed. 
There was no way to know if his eyes would ever recover. And it really 
didn't matter, if they couldn't figure out how to get out of this mess. 

 He licked his lips. "All right. Let's get that salve of yours and get 
this over with."

                         *******************

"Geeze, Daniel, take it easy!"

 "It's all right, Jack, I'm done, you can shut up now!!"

 "Don't let anyone ever tell you, you have a future in medicine, Daniel. 
Do yourself a favor and stick to dead things."

 Finished at last, Daniel shoved the pot of 'pava' into Saskia's leather 
bag and gritted his teeth. God, Jack could be a jerk sometimes. It was 
hard to stay sympathetic with a patient who called you names and 
insulted you just for trying to help. But equally hard to stay mad when 
you knew it was all just a cover, just one of Jack's many coping 
mechanisms to keep himself from having to think too much. 

 It was dark out, but not so dark he couldn't see the look on Jack's 
face when he told him about his eyes. 

 And anything he could do to keep that look from coming back was worth 
all the abuse Jack wanted to heap on him

 "It's not just dead things, Jack," he said patiently. "It's culture and 
behavior. And it's saved your butt more times than you can count."

 "You got a lousy bedside manner, Doctor," Jack said resentfully. "You 
should be more like Dr. Fraiser. Won't catch her telling a patient to 
shut up. Doc Fraiser always takes care of me just fine."

 Daniel gaped at the man in front of him, trying to figure out if Jack 
was serious or just kidding. All the times Jack had complained about the 
doctor, all the times she'd had to practically restrain him to get him 
to stay in the infirmary - he shook his head in disbelief.

 "Revisionist history, Jack," he muttered as he wrapped his own jacket 
around him.

 Against Jack's wishes, he gave him a shot of morphine and watched over 
him until he fell asleep. He gathered some more dry branches to keep 
handy and banked their small fire. Finally satisfied, he curled up on 
the ground and fell into a fitful sleep of his own.

 And down below, as dawn broke and Saskia began preparing breakfast for 
the conquering Jaffa, she took two small handfuls of powder from her 
brown jar and stirred them into the pot.

                         *******************

Jack slept restlessly, his dreams haunted by shaggy green beasts with 
serpent heads holding staff weapons in long, bloody claws. They lowered 
their weapons at him and shot bolt after bolt until there was nothing 
left of him.

 He dreamed he sat in his living room at home, gazing out his picture 
window at the view behind his house. There was a deer grazing in the 
meadow, a fawn at her side. Behind her the green forested mountains 
lifted pristine snow-capped peaks to a cloudless blue sky. While he 
watched, a heavy fog rose out of nowhere, thickened and swirled around 
him, surrounding him with blackness, separating him from the light.

 He woke with a start and rolled over, feeling stiff and sore in more 
places than he could count. He winced as his bruised hip came in contact 
with the hard ground, a stifled groan escaping his lips as he remembered 
where he was, and why. He could hear some unknown bird calling to its 
mate, and the gurgle of running water in the tiny creek on the far side 
of the clearing. An insect buzzed around his head and landed somewhere 
near. Farther away, he could hear the sound of the campfire as a piece 
of wood popped and burned. He smelled coffee.

 "Daniel?" 

 Battling a sudden irrational surge of panic when there was no answer, 
Jack fought down the urge to shout Daniel's name. He reached behind him 
to find the familiar bark of his tree and pulled himself up with a 
grunt. He flexed his knee and gradually put his weight on it. It would 
hold. Limping heavily, he followed his nose to the coffee and stumbled 
over the cup that Daniel had left conveniently by the fire. He cleaned 
the dirt out of it, and only burned his fingers twice getting coffee 
poured for himself. 

 Minutes later, Daniel entered the glade to find Jack sitting on his 
fallen tree, coffee cup in one hand and Beretta held casually in the 
other, aimed in his direction.

 "Jack, you're awake! I didn't mean to be gone so long, I'm sorry, but I 
was watching the town. You weren't worried, or anything . . ." 

 "Nah," Jack shrugged. "Never even thought about it." He uncocked the 
gun and put it back in his holster. "So what's going on down there?"

 "Nothing much. The Jaffa are going through the houses looking for loot. 
They've still got the people penned up in the town square, but they're 
letting a few of them take care of the animals, get some more food, that 
kind of thing.

 "How about your plan? Is it working yet?"

 "Don't know, too soon to tell, I guess. I didn't see anything." Daniel 
went over and fed more wood into the fire. "What about you. How are you 
doing?"

 "Leg's much better. Doesn't hurt a bit. Not up to running any marathons 
yet, but I'll be fine." 

 That wasn't what Daniel meant. They both knew it, but Daniel decided it 
wouldn't do any good to push it. Jack's nightmares had made his own 
sleep less than restful, the few occasions he'd actually managed to 
drift off. He had a few nightmares of his own to live with.

 Daniel brought out the pot of paste and began preparing some of 
Saskia's cream. 

 Jack inhaled the concoction's sharp, minty aroma and frowned in 
distaste. Daniel's rough first aid had not been a pleasant experience 
and he didn't look forward to a repeat performance. He wondered tiredly 
if it was all just a waste of time. 

 Daniel watched Jack, wondering if he realized just how much he was 
revealing about his thoughts. Weird how having his face half hidden by 
bandages made him more expressive, instead of less. 

 He wasn't looking forward to this himself. He knew it would hurt, he 
didn't know how to make it *not* hurt. And Jack knew that, of course. 
But Jack's reaction to medical care bordered on the rude and ungrateful 
even in the best of times, and he'd made it abundantly clear he 
considered Daniel a poor substitute for Dr. Fraiser. He decided last 
night that he'd never really appreciated the depths of Janet Fraiser's 
patience, and resolved to tell her so when they got back to the SGC. If 
they got back. No, *when* they got back.

 The cream finally ready, extra water heating by the fire, the two men 
went grimly to work. It was easier this time, Daniel being less worried 
about causing pain and more concerned with working quickly. He spread 
the ointment smoothly across Jack's face, then deftly wrapped several 
layers of clean gauze around his head to cover his eyes.

 While Daniel put away his pots and creams and threw the used bandages 
on the fire, Jack leaned back and listened to his heart race. 

 "Now that's a helluva way to start the day," he muttered.

 Daniel rummaged around in their packs and brought out a couple of MREs, 
handing one to Jack and keeping the other for himself. He added more 
fuel to the fire and munched thoughtfully on his breakfast.

 "Jack, what are we going to do if Teal'c doesn't make it through the 
Gate?"

 Jack wanted to answer with some flippant smartass remark about how of 
course Teal'c would make it, but he just couldn't make himself say it.

 "I mean, I know General Hammond will send somebody through when we're 
overdue long enough, but what's going to happen in the meantime? What's 
going to happen to those people down there? What if the Jaffa just start 
killing everybody? We don't know what they're going to do, Jack, we 
don't know if they'll just leave when they're done, but maybe they won't 
want to leave any witnesses. How long will they stay before they've used 
up everything these people have - "

 "Daniel - *Daniel*! Would you just shut up for a minute!" Jack reached 
out tentatively and brushed his hand against the younger man's shoulder. 
"I don't know, Daniel. There's only the two of us." He thought for a 
moment while he finished the last of his coffee. Jack recognized that if 
he didn't give the man something else to think about, he'd soon have a 
near-hysterical archeologist bouncing off the walls. Or trees, in this 
case. For that matter, he could use something constructive to do 
himself. 

 "Well," he drawled, "this looks like a nice place. We could just stay 
right here until General Hammond sends someone after us."

 "You'd do that?" Daniel sounded disappointed. "You'd just . . . run 
away?" He couldn't believe Jack would do that. But then, with his eyes 
and all . . . .

 "Gotcha," Jack smirked. "Of course not. When it looks like . . . *If* 
it looks like it's gone that far, we'll just have to go down there and 
get as many of them as we can. And if we're going to play Remember the 
Alamo, then we need to make some plans." He held his hand out to Daniel. 
"Help me up. Let's go take a look at the town. You can fill me in on 
everything. Who's who, what's what, - you know, all that stuff I usually 
don't listen to."

 Daniel took Jack's outstretched hand and pulled him up, then poured the 
rest of the coffee over the fire and kicked dirt over it to make sure it 
was out. He guided Jack's hand to his own elbow, making sure he had a 
good grip, and started walking toward the gap in the trees that led to 
their own little scenic overlook. 

 "You know, it's not really like the Alamo. I'd say it's more like the 
Charge of the Light Brigade. Watch out for that -- "

 "Ow!"

 "Sorry. See, the Alamo was defended by the Texicans in a hopeless 
cause, whereas what we're looking at is essentially a hopeless *attack.* 
The Charge of the Light Brigade was . . . " 

                         *******************

Part 2

Sam Carter woke to pain. Burning, all-encompassing pain. She hadn't hurt 
this bad since the Ashrak had tried to kill her. She brought her hand up 
to her forehead in reflex, remembering the awful headache that had 
stayed with her for days. This was different, sharper . . . she looked 
at her hand. It was covered with blood. Her blood. She wiped her hand on 
her pants and tried to sit up. The pain in her side flared into life, 
making all her other aches fade into insignificance. She put her head 
between her knees, gulping for air. Now that she was awake she didn't 
want to pass out again. There was something she had to do, something 
terribly important. Where was she? What had happened? Where was Teal'c?

She looked around reflexively, trying to find her gun. There it was - 
not ten feet away. Might as well be a mile. She rolled, coming to her 
hands and knees, but stopped as her stomach rebelled. She fought it, 
swallowing hard, but her body's instincts were too much for her. She 
retched until she was empty, and retched some more.

When she was done she curled up, hugging her arms around her injured 
side, and tried to remember.

They had been running. It was daylight, and they had to stay under 
cover. They hadn't made very good time, the Jaffa had been everywhere. 
She remembered seeing a serpent guard, and a Horus. And another, that 
looked like a Wolf. Why were they all jumbled together? Some of them 
didn't even have a full suit of their armor. They looked almost . . . 
shabby. Teal'c would have had their hides, if he'd been in charge.

Teal'c. Where was Teal'c?

They had to keep hiding from the Jaffa. She was anxious, they had to get 
to the Stargate. Why was it so important? What was wrong? Why were they 
in such a hurry?

When it got dark they made better time. They were in the forest, 
drifting from one tree to another, staying in the shadows. They had run 
across a single guard, separated from his troop, but she had kept Teal'c 
from shooting him because they didn't want anyone to guess they were out 
there. It was a mistake - he saw them and called out!

They ran - she and Teal'c ran. They could see the Stargate, they were 
almost there - She was so tired, she didn't think she could make it. She 
was gasping for air, but Teal'c grabbed her and pulled her along. Where 
was Jack? Why wasn't Daniel with them?

What was wrong? Why did they have to get to the Stargate?

There were guards at the Gate - four of them. There were enemy Jaffa 
behind them and in front of them. Teal'c found a valley - a dry creek 
bed cutting six feet deep through the grasslands. They jumped in and hid 
amongst the fingers of rock. They thought they were safe, they thought 
the Jaffa had passed them by. They stepped out, were caught in the 
crossfire as Jaffa opened up from both sides of the creek. Teal'c fired, 
she saw one of the snakeheads fall, saw one of the helmetless ones 
stagger. She thumbed her radio, frantically trying to report in.

"Colonel!! We've been ambushed, Sir!"

"Carter! What's your situation? Report!" 

"We didn't make it to the Gate, Sir. We're close - but they left more 
guards than we expected. We took out two of them, but I think - Teal'c, 
look out!"

Oh, God, she remembered it all. Jack had been hit with staff weapon 
fire, he was blind and injured from the Scat hunt. He had sent her and 
Teal'c to the Gate to bring back reinforcements. Jack and Daniel were 
waiting for them back at the bluff overlooking Teosa. They were waiting 
for them. Counting on them to get through to the Stargate.

Her side -- she'd been hit by enemy fire. She must have hit her head 
when she fell. But where was Teal'c? Did he make it through? 

She couldn't afford to guess. It didn't matter if she was hurt, so dizzy 
she could barely see. The Colonel had put his faith in her and she 
couldn't disappoint him. It was her duty to bring back help, for the 
innocent people of Teosa as well as for the injured Colonel.

She looked up and saw her gun lying not ten feet away. She didn't even 
try to stand up, not yet. She crawled towards the gun, was just reaching 
to touch it when a heavy armor-clad boot slammed down on the barrel of 
the gun.

"Apparently she is alive after all."

Sam turned her head to look up just as the man raised his foot and 
kicked her in the side, sending her spiraling once more into oblivion.

                         *******************

Daniel led the way through the trees and underbrush, Jack's hand firmly 
clutching his elbow. They wound their way through the narrow openings, 
Daniel trying to keep both himself and the sightless man at his side 
from running into errant branches or tripping over exposed roots. He 
wasn't always successful, for either one of them. 

Daniel stopped when they got to the edge of the trees where their path 
rejoined the main trail. He firmly detached Jack's hand from his arm and 
placed it on the birchlike sapling beside him. "Wait here," he 
whispered, and left him.

"Daniel!" Jack called, annoyed at the plaintive note in his voice. The 
bark under his fingers felt thin and fragile, and the sapling swayed 
when he leaned on it too heavily. He listened carefully, trying to 
decide if the soft sliding sound he heard was Daniel skinnying around in 
the grass. He wondered if Gem had any snakes. They hadn't seen any, but 
the subject had never come up. He wondered what other predators might be 
found in the forests on Gem. What else besides Scats? Luckily, they were 
only -

A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped, flinging out his hand to 
grasp Daniel by the neck.

"Jack!" Daniel croaked, clutching at Jack's hand. "It's just me!"

Jack relaxed sheepishly, letting his hand smooth out the cloth over 
Daniel's shoulders. "Sorry. Didn't see you standing there."

He cocked his head, taking a piece of Daniel's shirt in his hand and 
rubbing the fabric between long, sensitive fingers.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?"

"Daniel, this doesn't feel like your fatigues. Whatcha wearing?"

"It's a shirt, Jack. You know - I had to find native clothing to sneak 
into Teosa last night. I just, ah, forgot to change back."

"You forgot? You forgot!" Jack shook his head. "And where did you leave 
your *real* clothes? Did you think what might happen if our friends down 
there found them? What else did you leave behind?"

"No, I didn't think about it, Jack. But they haven't found them and they 
won't! I hid them in one of the oubuildings, they won't find them!" 
Daniel decided he needed to change the subject, and fast. "Now quiet, 
we're almost there."

Still grumbling under his breath about scientists, and archeologists in 
particular, Jack did as he was told.

They spent the next hour hiding amongst the boulders at the edge of the 
bluff, Daniel describing to Jack everything he could see and guess or 
extrapolate about what was going on below them. Using the binoculars, he 
watched as Saskia dropped a handful of powder from the brown jar into 
the stew in her cooking pot. 

Every once in a while the wind would carry the sound of voices up to 
them, mostly the Jaffa as they passed along an order to one of the 
townspeople or one of their own. They counted twelve Jaffa, leaving at 
least four unaccounted for, probably more. Daniel had seen more than his 
share of Goa'uld soldiers and knew enough to tell these didn't look at 
all sharp. They seemed a little off, somehow. One listed slightly here, 
another fidgeted at his post there, and yet another slumped over his 
staff weapon on the far side of the square. Their leader, this Kho'rak, 
moved amongst them trying to restore order. He strutted up to them, 
clapped one of them on the shoulder, exhorting them all to alertness. He 
didn't appear to be having much success.

Jack had just suggested they'd seen enough and should withdraw when 
Daniel interrupted him with a hiss. A new party of Jaffa entered the 
square, half dragging, half carrying a tall slender form in camouflage 
green fatigues. 

Daniel raised the binoculars to his eyes. "What's that? My god, Jack, 
it's Sam!!" 

Sam stumbled to her knees and the guard holding her arm jerked her 
roughly back to her feet. She fell into him and he laughed cruelly, 
grabbing her hair and pushing her away to land awkwardly in the dirt at 
Kho'rak's. feet. She curled protectively around her side and glared pure 
hate at the Jaffa leader.

Dried blood covered the side of her face and matted the blonde hair into 
a dirty brown mass. Daniel could see the charred hole in her jacket, 
caught glimpses of burned flesh as she moved. 

"She's alive, Jack, but she's been hurt. Her head, her side, I think. 
But she's alive!"

The relief on Jack's face spoke volumes. "Thank God," he breathed. He 
felt as though one, at least, of his many sins had been forgiven. 

But their joy was short-lived as they both realized this really didn't 
change anything. They still had no idea what had happened to Teal'c. Was 
he still out there somewhere, still being hunted down by the enemy? Had 
he made it through the Stargate? Or was he already dead. They were right 
back where they started - waiting.

They stayed long enough to watch the Jaffa have their fun tormenting 
their helpless captive - prodding her with their staff weapons, 
childishly kicking dirt in her face. But they soon tired of their play, 
and dragged her over to the waiting townspeople and dropped her at their 
feet. Two of the women ran forward and drew her into their arms, lifting 
her up and pulling her into their midst. Daniel watched as they brought 
her to Saskia.

Wordlessly, Jack and Daniel quietly withdrew from the bluff.

                         *******************

Jack suffered through Daniel's well-meaning ministrations in silence. 
Daniel had insisted the bandages needed to be changed again, faithfully 
cleaning out the wound and reapplying Saskia's salve according to her 
instructions. Jack could have told him it wasn't doing any good, the 
damned burn hurt just as much as ever. He kept his eyes closed during 
the entire ordeal, turning his concentration toward how he and Daniel 
were going to rescue Sam, save the people of Teosa, and capture or 
eliminate two dozen ragtag Jaffa. It wasn't the first time he'd had to 
live with pain, and with any luck it wouldn't be the last.

He did a mental inventory of their meager resources. Guns, claymores, 
blocks of C-4, grenades. Bullets, knives, timers, a couple lengths of 
nylon rope. One Doctor of Archeology and one blind Colonel. What he 
wouldn't give for a couple of Zat guns and a pair of working eyes.

Daniel finished the delicate task of spreading the salve over Jack's 
burned, blistered skin. He was no expert, but he thought the wound 
actually looked better than it had the last time he did this. He debated 
saying so to Jack, but one look at his closed, frowning face was enough 
to keep his opinion to himself. Jack could be quite formidable, when he 
tried. 

It slowly dawned on Jack that clumsy hands were no longer fumbling over 
his face. He consciously relaxed his tense muscles and took a deep 
breath, trying to ignore the deep burning sensation the ointment always 
left. He resisted the overwhelming urge to raise his hand and touch his 
eyes, a constant irrational need to reassure himself they were still 
there.

Daniel had moved away to dig another roll of gauze out of their packs 
when Jack was startled by the sudden crackle of static from his radio. 

"Colonel O'Neill, this is Teal'c."

Jack jerked his hand up to push the button on his radio. "Teal'c!! Where 
are you!!" 

"We have just arrived through the Stargate, O'Neill. I bring SG7 and SG5 
with me. We have defeated Kho'rak's forces at the gate and will proceed 
to Teosa at our best possible speed."

"God, Teal'c you made it! You got back to the SGC!" A broad smile lit up 
Jack's face as yet another sin was forgiven.

"That is correct, O'Neill." Jack could hear the mixture of pride and 
rocklike confidence in the man's voice. Thank God for rocks, immovable 
objects and Teal'c.

"I do not know what has become of Major Carter. I had to leave her when 
- " he continued, regret now clearly in his voice.

"It's alright, Teal'c! She's here! They brought her in today," Jack 
interrupted. "She's being held prisoner with the others, but she's 
here."

"I am most pleased that she survived. Colonel O'Neill, I must go now. 
Major Ferretti says to tell you - 'shake the sand out of your shorts, 
Sir, we'll be there in no time'." Jack could almost see the puzzled arch 
of Teal'c's eyebrow as he passed on Ferretti's message. "We will arrive 
within 3.5 hours. Over and out."

"Over and out." Jack buried his head in his hands. He couldn't believe 
it. Teal'c had done it, somehow the son of a bitch had made it back to 
the SGC and here he was, leading the cavalry to the rescue. It was 
almost over, all they had to do was wait another -- 3.5 hours -- and it 
would all be over. 

                         *******************

Saskia lifted the brown bottle and checked its contents against the 
light. Still half full - enough for a few more days of the "distraction" 
Daniel Jackson had asked her to provide. Such a clever plan he'd come up 
with, and she was fiercely glad to be contributing. She shook out a 
handful of the coarse powder and dropped it into the pot of stew 
simmering on her fire. The other women had gladly turned over to her the 
job of feeding the Jaffa, relieved to spend less time in the company of 
their enemy.

"Saskia!" Cora's excited voice broke into her reverie. "They found one 
of the Tau'ri! Come on! The Jaffa caught one of them!" Saskia wiped her 
hands on the smock she habitually wore to protect her clothes from 
errant bits of her concoctions and hurried after the younger woman. They 
pushed their way through the crowd to the far side of the park, arriving 
just as one of the guards threw the woman to the ground. She landed hard 
and lay there, stunned.

The woman - Sam Carter - was obviously badly injured, and Saskia 
clenched her hands in anger as the men continued to taunt and mistreat 
her. Finally losing interest, the alien soldiers turned away, but not 
before spying Saskia and calling loudly for her to bring food and drink 
to their camp. She nodded once, curtly, and motioned for Cora and her 
sister to go to the wounded Earthwoman. They ran forward, gently pulling 
her to her feet, and brought her to Saskia's campfire.

"They dirty the very air they breathe," Saskia muttered, seething with 
anger, as she took her brown bottle and shook some of the contents into 
the ale she would send to the soldiers. It was easy to disguise the 
mixture in food, not quite so easy in their drink. It was worth the 
risk, though - if they noticed anything in the dregs of their ale, they 
would undoubtedly blame it on shoddy practices and the Teosans' 
"primitive" culture. Saskia resisted the temptation to shake an extra 
measure into the jug - she'd need that handful later.

Reluctantly, she asked Cora and her sister Yana to deliver the 
refreshments to the Jaffa, as she wanted to care for the Tau'ri herself. 

Saskia dug the last clean shirt out of the supplies she'd been permitted 
to gather and ripped the sleeve out at the seam, then knelt and began 
using it to clean the woman's face. There was a long gash along her 
hairline that had bled messily and plentifully. It certainly was not 
life threatening., but would require careful stitching. The woman was 
very pretty, and Saskia wondered if that would matter to her. 

She was more worried about the burn along her ribs. This must be the 
burn of a staff weapon, she surmised, and thought about the wound 
Colonel O'Neill had suffered across his eyes. She wondered if the 
precious blue ointment would do any good. For either of them.

She looked up from her examination to find large blue eyes boring into 
her own. 

"How bad is it?" 

Saskia smoothed her frown into a semblance of the bland smile doctors 
all over the universe seemed to cultivate. She lifted her hand to Sam's 
chin and turned her face to take another look at the gash. "It's bad, 
Sam Carter, but the wound is in the hairline, and the scar will not 
show."

Sam frowned dismissively. "I'm not worried about that - I meant the 
staff weapon burn."

Saskia allowed a genuine smile to appear as she began cleaning and 
treating the wound on Sam Carter's side. That answered one of her 
questions, at least, and she was oddly pleased with the answer. But 
then, this woman was a soldier on her own world, as well as a scientist. 

"This is from one of their staff weapons? I've never seen anything quite 
like it. There are similarities to our more common burns, but yet 
differences as well. The tissues look traumatized by more than a simple 
burn."

Sam quirked her mouth. "We've seen more than our share back on Earth. 
There's a sort of electrical shock, a power surge that disrupts the 
pathways between the molecules . . ." Sam trailed off as she recognized 
the confused look on her audience's face. "Sorry. You're right, it's 
more than just a simple burn. If I can get back to Earth, Dr. Fraiser 
will patch me up in no time flat."

Saskia began tearing her shirt into strips to use as bandages. "Will 
your Dr. Fraiser be able to cure Colonel O'Neill's eyes, as well?"

"You know about the Colonel's eyes? You've seen him? How do you know 
about his eyes?" Sam tried to sit up, suddenly worried that Jack and 
Daniel had been captured, hoping she was wrong.

Saskia gently pushed on her shoulders. "It's all right, Sam Carter. He 
is safe with Daniel Jackson. No, I have not seen him, but his injuries 
were described to me by Daniel."

"Daniel?" Sam asked quickly. "When did you talk to Daniel?"

"Last night he came to us here," she gestured around at the crowded town 
square, converted now into a prison camp. Saskia allowed herself a 
vindictive half grin. "He brought a suggestion, and the means to 
implement it. And he told me about your Colonel's eyes. I told him about 
the 'pava' ointment, which we use for open wounds. The same ointment 
that I would use for your own burns." Saskia's expressive face grew 
thoughtful. "But now, when I have seen one of these staff weapon burns 
for myself . . . ." she shook her head doubtfully. 

Sam took a moment to process the notion of Daniel sneaking into the 
village to speak to the local doctor about possible cures for Goa'uld-
inflicted wounds. If it worked . . . if it worked, the ramifications 
were enormous. She had to find out more about this ointment. She could 
hardly wait to get back and discuss this latest discovery with Janet, 
she was always looking for new medicines and was quite open to 
homeopathic applications of native resources . . . Ah. If they ever got 
out of this mess . . . . But what had Saskia said?

"Daniel brought you a suggestion?"

The feral grin returned to Saskia's face. "Yes. He brought me my jar of 
'elim' leaves, and suggested that I use them to season the food of the 
Jaffa soldiers."

Sam looked questioningly at the older woman. "I don't understand."

"'Elim' leaves can be very . . . . debilitating, when swallowed." 

Sam stared at her, shocked, then slowly grew to appreciate the delicious 
irony of it all. She joined Saskia in full-throated laughter, totally in 
accord with her newfound friend. She was still smiling as Saskia spread 
a measure of her ice blue 'pava' ointment over the wound on Sam's side 
and began to wrap the strips of cloth around her ribs.

She was just finishing a bowl of Saskia's stew - the untreated version -
- when they heard an angry bellow from the direction of the Jaffa camp. 
All thoughts of laughter were instantly quelled as she exchanging an 
anxious look with Saskia. The herbwoman helped her up, and kept her arm 
around her as they stood to face the enemy once more.

                         *******************

"Jack, what's wrong? That was Teal'c, he's on his way!! " Daniel came 
swiftly to Jack's side, trying to decide what emotion his friend was 
hiding behind his raised hands. 

Jack looked up at him and grinned. "It was Teal'c, he made it! He's got 
SG-5 and SG-7 with him, and they're on their way!! He did it, Danny. 
We're going to make it."

Daniel's hand, raised to touch Jack's shoulder, stopped in mid-reach.

"Jack," he said in a strained voice. "Do you realize what you just did?"

Jack looked confused, frowned as he tried to think what Daniel could be 
talking about now. "I just talked to Teal'c, Daniel, I didn't do 
anything."

"Yes, you did, Jack. Think about it. You LOOKED at me!"

"I did?" Jack lifted his eyebrows, hardly noticing the pain as he 
stretched his scorched flesh, trying to open his eyes. It was no use, 
they were still swollen too much. But . . . there . . . a sliver of 
light, a tiny patch of brightness, painful after so long in the dark.

"I did," he whispered. He brought his hand up and delicately brushed his 
fingertips across his eyes. He held his hand in front of his face - and 
vaguely, barely, he could see a shadow of tanned flesh, the shape of 
long fingers against the light. Jack blinked hard, tried again, turned 
his head to watch as he moved his hand back and forth.

Daniel watched as Jack's face stilled and his eyes, only just opened, 
closed again. The extra lines that had carved themselves into his face 
in the last 24 hours deepened, then smoothed. His lips moved, and Daniel 
didn't know if Jack was praying or cursing. After a long moment, he took 
a deep breath and turned his head towards Daniel once more.

"It doesn't mean anything, Daniel," he said in a tight voice. "I can see 
a little - mostly just shadows. I can see your head, but I can't see 
your face. And it hurts like hell when I try."

"But it's *something,* Jack! And something is better than nothing, 
right?" Daniel could see the subtle signs of rejection in his friend's 
face. The fear that wouldn't allow him to hope, that shut down his 
emotions whenever things got too close. "You gotta keep trying, Jack."

"Tell you what." Daniel reached into Jack's pocket and removed his 
sunglasses. "Here, put these on. We're going for a walk." He grabbed 
Jack's arm and pulled him up before he could think to protest. "We'll go 
back down the trail, and you can tell me what you see."

He didn't give him a chance to protest, he took Jack's hand and guided 
it to his arm. "Now - remember this branch here, watch out -

"Ow!"

"Sorry. Look, Jack, do you see the berries on that bush over there? 
They're red, and Saskia says they . . . ." Daniel's voice faded as they 
left the tiny glade behind.

                         *******************

By the time he got Jack settled into his spot on the bluff, Daniel 
thought the mood had definitely lightened up. Jack's face had lost that 
appalling *closed* look, and he'd been telling him some truly awful 
story about a blind man and an elephant. 

"So you see, Danny, each one of them only described the part of the 
elephant they could feel. It just goes to show you - "

"Jack!!" Daniel's shocked voice broke into Jack's rambling monologue. 
"Something's wrong! What are they *doing* . . ." 

Below them was chaos. The Jaffa were rampaging through the camp, 
trampling fires and scattering possessions as they ran. They struck out 
with their staffs, not caring what or who they damaged. The people were 
screaming and trying to run away, brought up short by the Jaffa still on 
guard at the edge of the square. Kho'rak stalked through the camp, 
holding a golden sphere in the open palm of his hand - one of the 
Goa'uld communication devices.

Daniel described the scene for Jack, stammering in his haste. "But, but 
what could have caused this? Why now? We were so close!"

"Daniel!!" Jack found his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. "Daniel, 
use the glasses and find Sam! Do it, Daniel!" Daniel dug out the field 
glasses and lifted them, scanning the crowd for endless moments. 

Daniel spoke up. "Got her! She's all right." 

Jack was thinking furiously. Up till now, the Jaffa invasion had been 
relatively quiet and almost bloodless - if you didn't happen to be one 
of the five casualties. They hadn't been in any hurry to strip the town 
and move on. Until now. What had happened? Why the sudden change?

"My god!!!" he whispered as the answer hit him - The Jaffa had a 
communication device. "The Stargate!!"

Jack pushed himself up to his feet. "Daniel, get me down there, we've 
got to *move*!" He reached out and took Daniel's arm, pushing him into 
motion. "I don't care how you do it, Danny, just get me down there as 
fast as you can!"

Daniel was slow to respond, still trying to understand what Jack had 
figured out that he himself had missed.

"Daniel," Jack hissed in his ear, every inch the commanding officer, his 
grip on Daniel's arm tight enough to cut off the circulation.. "We don't 
have time for this. Just do what I say, and get me down there!"

"All right, Jack, take it easy!" Daniel muttered reluctantly as he 
turned and started jogging along the trail, pulling Jack along with him. 
He kept the pace as fast as he dared, trying to look ahead so he could 
warn Jack of sudden turns and inclines, trying to guide him around 
scattered obstacles of half-buried rocks and exposed roots. 

Daniel tried to picture the trail up ahead as they ran. He'd been too 
busy taking care of Jack to pay much attention, but he thought they'd 
come from a different direction the day before. They had followed some 
sort of faint path through the trees until they came to the main trail, 
and then Teal'c had found the lookout where they first spied on the 
Horus Guards. But he thought he recognized the trail, this had to be the 
same one he'd used when the children had taken him exploring. This part 
of the trail ran along the edge of the bluff above the village and was 
relatively easy. Up ahead was the hard part. The final section, the 
descent to the head of the trail, was steep and narrow and marked by one 
hairpin turn after another.

By the time he realized there was no way they were going to make it down 
that trail, they were over the edge and running downhill at breakneck 
speed. 

Daniel was suddenly wide-eyed with fear and exhilaration. He was out of 
control, hanging on to his balance by the slightest thread. He grabbed 
Jack around the waist and pulled him forward so they could run in 
tandem, doing everything he could to keep Jack on his feet. He absorbed 
his weight when he stumbled, pulling him up before he could fall. They 
skidded around the turns, Daniel holding on to whatever was there to 
keep them from shooting over the edge. 

He thought their free fall flight down the trail would never end, and he 
was almost sorry when it did. On the final turn at the bottom of the 
hill he grabbed a tree and swung them around, and they both stumbled to 
a halt as their feet abruptly found flat earth. They collapsed on the 
ground at the base of the trail, sucking huge breaths of air into 
starved lungs.

"Jack," he finally gasped, "Are you going to . . . . tell me what this . 
. . is all about? What are you going . . . . to do?"

"Stall 'em," Jack answered cryptically. He sat there, rubbing his leg 
with both hands, waiting for the throbbing in his knee to ease up. After 
a moment, still breathing hard, he forced himself to stand and began 
limping painfully towards the square. Daniel jumped to his feet and ran 
after him, catching his arm and dragging him back a step to avoid the 
wooden wheelbarrow someone had left in the middle of the street. Shaking 
his head, he once more guided Jack's hand to his waiting elbow and began 
to lead him toward the center of town.

Jack spoke into his radio, barely noticing Daniel's rescue effort on his 
behalf. "Teal'c, Where are you? Do you copy? Teal'c!"

The response was immediate. "I am here, Colonel O'Neill."

"Teal'c! They know you came back through the Stargate. How soon can you 
get here?"

There was a brief silence as, presumably, Teal'c conferred with the 
commanders of the other SG teams.

"We are not yet halfway, Colonel O'Neill. I will arrive with Captain 
Vergara and Lts. Johnson and Davis as soon as possible."

"How soon, Teal'c," O'Neill demanded.

"I am uncertain, Colonel O'Neill." There was a brief silence. "I believe 
that at our best possible speed, it will still be 90 minutes before we 
can arrive."

"Thank you, Teal'c, ninety minutes it is. I'm counting on you. Over and 
out." 

Daniel had been waiting long enough. He paused in the shadow of an empty 
house and pulled Jack to a stop. "All right, Jack. What's your plan? 
What do you mean, stall them?"

Jack sighed. Daniel was not going to be happy with this.

                         *******************

Dagger Jaskoll lurked around the outskirts of his empty town and plotted 
revenge on the strange aliens that had invaded his home and killed his 
friends. 

He had been with his Tau'ri friends when the savages had attacked. His 
horse had been killed, shot out from under him by the blast of the 
strange staff weapon the enemy had fired. His leg had been badly burned 
by the same blast, and when his horse went down he had hidden in panic, 
to his everlasting shame. He had waited until the warriors had past, 
then made his way back to his village only to find the soldiers abusing 
his people and looting their possessions. Ashamed of his fear, he had 
sworn revenge on the enemy.

But even the strongest oath depends on prudent opportunity, and so far 
there had been none. 

Dag had moved from house to house, spying on the soldiers. They were lax 
and lazy, and today had grown almost lethargic in their duties. They 
weren't even *good* enemies, he thought with contempt.

He had spent the last hour drifting in closer to the town square. He had 
seen the patrol bring back their captive, the woman scientist. He had 
passed the time counting soldiers, watching their routes and planning 
ambushes. 

The square had suddenly erupted into chaos. The leader had been growing 
increasingly restless, and all at once broke into frenzied yelling, 
shouting orders to his men. The soldiers began running through the 
crowd, striking out with their staffs to bully and beat on his friends. 
He watched as a child - little Taley, Vonnie's youngest, got separated 
from her mother, was scooped up by Tomas the blacksmith and carried to 
safety. He cursed the enemy warriors that had destroyed his peaceful 
home, and he cursed his own helplessness.

He turned away, overcome with his own rage - and looked up to see two of 
the Tau'ri walking toward him.

                         *******************

"What do you mean, you don't have your radio?" 

"I'm sorry, Jack, I must have left it with my clothes when I changed! 
I'm sorry!"

"Dammit, Daniel, of all the irresponsible, thoughtless, . . . ," Jack's 
tirade sputtered out as Daniel brought both of them to a halt.

"I can go get it, Jack!" Daniel's voice was almost as angry as Jack's. 
"I'm sorry I left it, but I know exactly where it is and it'll just take 
me a minute to get it."

"We don't have *time* for this," Jack hissed through clenched teeth.

Daniel hadn't seen him this mad at him since . . . Well actually, he was 
always getting mad at him. 

"If this plan has any chance in hell of working, we need that radio! Get 
it, NOW!"

"Colonel O'Neill!" Dag's voice interrupted. He'd heard enough to know 
the man had a plan, and he wanted fiercely to be a part of it.

Daniel figured by all rights he should have keeled over in a dead faint 
when Dag spoke up.

Jack turned toward the voice, a smile briefly lighting up his face. 
"Dag? Is that you? So the Jaffa bastards didn't kill you after all!" He 
squinted behind his sunglasses, trying to identify Dag as the person he 
could see silhouetted against the light. The effort sent a shiver of 
pain vibrating through his eyes. He staggered and would have gone to his 
knees if Daniel and Dagger hadn't caught him.

He leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees, and held his head still 
until the vibrations stopped. "God," he groaned, barely audible. This 
would certainly go a long way towards convincing Daniel he was up for 
this.

Dammit, he just didn't have time for this.

Dagger was here, he suddenly realized. Dag was here - the possibilities 
suddenly multiplied before his eyes. His mind raced, revising, 
discarding and accepting. 

"Daniel! I need you to go in there. Stall 'em, talk to 'em . . . tell 
them whatever they want to hear. Talk to that Kho'rak guy. Tell him who 
we are, negotiate with him, tell him we'll give ourselves up if he 
spares the Teosans. I don't care what you say, Daniel, just keep talking 
as long as you can!"

"You can't do this, Jack," Daniel protested.. "There's got to be another 
way - you can't go up against him. Dammit, Jack, you're blind!"

God, he wished just once that Daniel would do what he told him. He could 
feel precious minutes ticking away, and he wondered how many people 
would die before they could put his plan into motion.

He took a deep breath and pretended patience he didn't have. " Daniel, 
you're right. I'm sure there's a better way, but right now I can't think 
of it. I can see well enough, Daniel. And with a little help from Dag 
here, I'll be fine." He reached out to touch his friend's arm. "And 
remember, I only need to keep him occupied until Teal'c gets here."

He gestured towards the Teosan. "Now, tell Dag where you left the radio, 
then git! Go do what you do best - talk!!"

                         *******************

Daniel walked down the middle of the street and waited for the Jaffa to 
notice him. The guards - and from what Daniel could see they weren't 
looking so hot - the guards were all so busy pushing people around they 
didn't even notice him. They had managed to herd most of the people to 
the far side of the square, and had begun to single out a handful of men 
to stand in front of the crowd. When one of the Jaffa raised his staff 
weapon to hit the blacksmith, he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

"Hellooo! I'm Daniel Jackson, peaceful explorer from Earth!" 

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. It all depended on what effect 
you wanted, he supposed. 

The nearest Jaffa heard him and turned around to look. He pointed his 
weapon at him and shouted excitedly at the others. Kho'rak gestured for 
the soldiers to stop what they were doing, and strutted forward. He came 
to a stop at the edge of the grass and stared impassively at the 
Earthman. 

"Kho'rak! My name is Daniel Jackson. Maybe you've heard of me, I'm one 
of the Tau'ri." He waited for some sign of recognition. The man stared 
at him in total contempt. "We're the ones that killed Hathor, and almost 
killed Apophis!" That one hurt, he hated to even think that the bastard 
was still alive and doing better than ever. 

There was still no response from Kho'rak.

He cast around for something else, still trying to provoke a response 
from the heavyset Jaffa. "We destroyed Netu!"

"I know who you are," Kho'rak sneered at him. "Now tell me what you 
want."

So much for small talk.

"We came to this world to explore, and to make new friends. We met the 
Teosans, these people you have gathered together here. They are a good 
people, and gentle. They don't deserve to be treated like this, you 
don't need to kill them!"

"Silence! You dare to tell me how to behave! I can kill you where you 
stand!" At a gesture, his men trained their weapons on him, orange fire 
crackling within the open leaves of their staff weapons.

His mouth suddenly gone dry, Daniel folded his arms across his chest and 
tried to look nonchalant. "Oh, but that would be a mistake."

He let that sink in, sure that at any moment the man would raise a 
finger and Dr. Daniel Jackson, archeologist and explorer extraordinaire, 
would be no more.

The Jaffa broke first. "What do you mean?"

"The System Lords would be very happy to hear that the infamous Tau'ri 
have been captured at last. They might be willing to offer you certain . 
. . accommodations, for our delivery."

"Accommodations? What do you mean?"

Hooked! Daniel allowed himself a deep breath. His voice took on the 
time-honored cadence of a used-car salesman. Stall, Danny, stall!

"Kho'rak, Kho'rak! Look around you! Look at your men! Is this the kind 
of life you deserve? How long has it been since you had a decent meal? A 
decent bath? A bevy of beautiful slaves to see to your every whim?" He 
figured he might as well cover all the bases. "How long since you've had 
a proper training session for you and your men, in the proper 
facilities? How long since you've had the respect from your fellow Jaffa 
that you so richly deserve?

"We can get you that."

Kho'rak motioned for his men to lower their staffs. They complied 
somewhat sloppily, Daniel was happy to note. Saskia's 'elim' leaves were 
definitely taking their toll.

Imitating Daniel, Kho'rak folded his arms over his chest. "You are 
clever, Tau'ri. But I already have the woman, and now I have you. So you 
are not so clever as you think, Daniel Jackson, Peaceful Explorer from 
Earth!"

"But I can offer you something more! I can give you the other two 
members of our team - the 'shol'va' Teal'c, and Colonel O'Neill!" He 
gestured towards the people, crowded into a corner of the park and 
listening carefully to all that was being said. 

"I offer a trade. Our lives for theirs."

                         *******************

Colonel O'Neill stood in the shade of the pottery shop, just around the 
corner from where Daniel was doing his best to keep Kho'rak from killing 
any more of the Teosans. 

You had to admire the kid - he'd told him to stall, and Danny was doing 
a bang-up job of it. He wished he knew what time it was - how much time 
had passed since Teal'c had said he'd be there in 90 minutes? But Jack 
had long since lost his ability to keep track of time, the passage of 
minutes and hours all the same in his darkened world.

His sunglasses felt tight on the swollen flesh around his eyes, and he 
wondered if he'd be better off without them. He eased them off and let 
them dangle from the strap around his neck. He looked past the shade to 
where the sun shone brightly in the blacksmith's yard and held out his 
hand, slowly moving it from left to right. It was there - he could see 
it, he could count each finger, he could even see the dirt under his 
fingernails. Still watching, he suddenly slashed his hand through the 
air, fingers stiff and slightly cupped in a classic tae-kwon-do move. 
His eyes started to pulsate, he could feel the draft of air as it hit 
his eyeballs with all the impact of a sandstorm. He reeled back against 
the wall, his eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of sensation, 
palms pressed against scorched flesh. 

Slowly, gradually, the vibrations faded. 

Jack slowly lifted the sunglasses and carefully settled them back in 
place. 

He straightened and when there was no corresponding return of the 
sandstorm, he began to move more easily. He brought his hand up to his 
ear and fiddled with his radio earpiece, making sure it was settled and 
secure. He touched the transmit button on his radio. "Dag?" he 
whispered. "Dag, can you hear me?" There was no answer.

He tried to remember if his finger had brushed against the frequency 
tuner, afraid suddenly he might have touched it by mistake. He pulled at 
the radio on his shoulder, trying to find the digital readout so he 
could check. It was impossible to focus that close, he couldn't see a 
thing. He would just have to trust that he hadn't. 

                         *******************

Saskia had managed to keep her hold on the Earthwoman as they were 
shoved and prodded through the crowd. They ended up in the front row - 
good for watching the unfolding drama, bad for being first in line when 
the Jaffa started shooting.

Saskia saw him first. "Sam, why is your Daniel not hiding?"

"Daniel!" Sam exclaimed when she saw him walking down the street. She 
recognized that "peaceful explorer" routine of his. "What are you guys 
doing now!" she whispered. Because she knew, whatever it was, there had 
to be a plan.

They strained to hear what he was saying. Something about system lords . 
. . accommodations . . . a trade?

And Kho'rak was actually listening to him. Sam had to admire Daniel's 
technique - She'd have to take him with her the next time she went 
looking for a new car. When they got back. If.

They moved closer, trying to figure out what he was doing out there.

                         *******************

Jack edged closer to the corner of the building, listening closely now 
as Daniel tried to convince Kho'rak that it was in his own best interest 
to spare the people of Teosa in favor of getting his hands on Apophis' 
own personal thorn in the side.

He tried his radio one more time. Still no answer. "Dag, where are you," 
he whispered.

                         *******************

Despite his limp, Jaskoll moved swiftly through the silent streets, 
still trying to figure out how to fasten the strange radio device to his 
clothes, the way the Tau'ri wore theirs. This little piece here had to 
go in his ear, but it was supposed to fix itself somehow to the "radio" 
in a little hole in the back. The archeologist had shown him Colonel 
O'Neill's radio, had shown him how it fit together, had even let him put 
it in his own ear so he could see how it felt. But their alien 
technology was all so strange to him. Daniel had drawn a figure in the 
dirt, told him it was a number and shown him what it looked like in the 
tiny window on the radio, and told him to make sure the figure on this 
one was the same. It was really quite fascinating, and he hoped the 
Tau'ri would live long enough to explain to him how it worked.

Because he really didn't hold much hope that they would survive. This 
plan of the Colonel's - while he admired the sheer bravado, it was 
foolhardy and dangerous. Still - as the Colonel had made clear to his 
friend, they didn't have time to find a better plan. 

And Dag was surprised and grateful that these strangers were so willing 
to risk their freedom and their very lives for his own people. Truly, 
these Tau'ri were a strange breed, and would be worthy allies and 
friends.

If they survived.

He had reached the back of the Council Hall when he gave a sigh of 
satisfaction, having finally discovered the clip on the back of the 
radio. And there, the wire was now in place. He pushed the button they 
had called "on" and looked for the strange red symbol to appear. There 
it was - just as they had said. He placed the "earpiece" in his ear, 
shivering a little as the strange substance felt cold against his skin. 
It was extremely odd, like the time the dune bug had crawled into his 
ear when he was only nine. It still gave him chills to think of it. And 
the Tau'ri did this all the time? Dag pressed his finger to his ear.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

                         *******************

"Jack." He heard Daniel say. "You're on."

Finally. The words he'd been waiting for - at least, some of them. There 
was still no word from Dag. He knew they'd shoved an awful lot at him in 
a short time, but he KNEW Dag could handle it, he was a smart man, he'd 
already been exposed to some of their technology and shown an interest 
and an aptitude. He needed Dag to be there.

He wondered how much time had passed since he had talked to Teal'c.

Jack stepped out from the shadow of the pottery shop. He took two steps 
forward and stood there, legs spread at Parade Rest, gun slung over his 
shoulder and held lovingly in practiced hands. He had discarded his 
jacket and wore his vest fastened snugly over his black t-shirt, his 
radio snapped securely in place and the almost invisible cord snaking 
its way to his ear. His sunglasses hid most of the damage from the staff 
weapon, and a cocky smirk spread itself across his lips.

He looked every inch the hardassed ex-Black Ops American Air Force 
Colonel he knew himself to be. 

His mouth was dry, his heart was racing, and icy sweat was running down 
his back. The sunglasses hid his squinting eyes, barely letting in 
enough light to see the wide Jaffa body in front of Daniel.

Good god, what on earth had made him think he could pull this off. There 
was no chance in hell this guy would go for it and Jack didn't stand a 
chance even if he did. 

But all he had to do was stall for time.

Jack's radio came to life, Dag's voice sounding tinny and unsure. 
"Colonel O'Neill? I am in position."

Jack lifted his hand to his ear and muttered, "Dag, old buddy, I never 
doubted it for a second." 

And suddenly the time for thinking was over.

Jack took a deep breath and raised his voice to reach every person in 
the square. "I claim Resh-ne . . . rocket."

He stumbled a little over the unfamiliar word, but the Jaffa rebel 
leader understood it well enough. He could hear some mutterings from the 
other Jaffa - apparently discipline was far from absolute, and he 
wondered how much was due to Daniel's little suggestion.

Kho'rak hissed in anger, but he had no choice. "I accept. Resk-ne-Rok."

By the custom of the Serpent Guards, and as told to Jack late one night 
over a 6-pack of long-neck Buds and a gallon of Strawberry-Mango Kiwi 
fruit juice, a prisoner sentenced to death had the right to challenge 
the leader of his captors for the right to death by duel. It was one of 
many duties Teal'c had performed in his role as First Prime, and he told 
the story with mixed pride and shame. Pride for the battles won against 
worthy foes who chose an honorable end to their doomed existence; shame 
for the pathetic wrecks who had been seeking only an easy end -- for 
their deaths bordered on murder, yet another transgression Teal'c would 
someday have to answer for.

It was a fine line he walked, however. Technically, Jack was not yet 
Kho'rak's prisoner. Nor had he been given the death sentence - yet. But 
it was only a matter of time, and Jack had gambled that Kho'rak was just 
twisted enough to enjoy the fight. And just dulled enough by Saskia's 
poison not to realize what he was losing, should he succeed in killing 
Jack.

An event Jack was determined to see never happened.

He strode forward, oozing confidence and insolence with every move.

Kho'rak grudgingly gave way before him.

//"The way is clear ahead of you,"// a ghostly voice whispered in Jack's 
ear. //"The sheska follows behind you."//

Jack kept walking. He hoped to hell Dag wouldn't decide to lead him into 
a tree. Or a Jaffa.

//"You have reached the center of the park, O'Neill."//

Jack stopped and abruptly swung around. "Kho'rak!" he barked in his best 
Command Voice. "We'll do it here. Instruct your men."

The Jaffa rocked to a stop, startled by the Tau'ri's sudden about face. 
This situation was not at all to his liking and he couldn't think how he 
had let it get this far. His mind felt slow and sticky, as though he'd 
been subjected to one of the God's ribbon devices. 

"Jaffa, Kree!" he shouted. "The prisoner has claimed Resh-ne-Rok'El! You 
will observe and judge, so all may know that justice is done! Resk-ne-
Rok!" He raised his staff weapon high and pounded the butt of the staff 
into the ground.

"Resk-ne-Rok!" His men repeated in unison, punctuating their shout with 
a single earth-shaking beat as they slammed their weapons down.

"We shall begin," Kho'rak announced. He removed his armor, piece by 
piece, laying it neatly on the ground.

In answer, Jack lifted the strap of his MP5 over his head and handed the 
gun to Daniel. "Take good care of it, Daniel," he told him in a low 
voice. 

"Jack . . ."

"Yeah, I know. See ya later, Danny."

Kho'rak held his staff weapon across his body with both hands and began 
to circle his opponent.

//"Circle to your left."//

Jack could see the figure of the Jaffa leader, a shadow moving against 
the light. He circled, moving as Kho'rak moved. It was all part of the 
game. You circled, looking for weaknesses. Did your opponent favor one 
leg over another? Did he turn his body just so, exposing even a hint of 
an opening? Were his hands held ready to defend or attack? 

He wondered what Kho'rak was learning about him. Because he sure as hell 
wasn't learning much about Kho'rak.

But all he had to do was stall.

Kho'rak suddenly lunged forward, staff held crosswise to push across 
Jack's chest.

//"Duck! Jump to the right!"//

Jack ducked and reversed his momentum, easily avoiding the half-hearted 
attack. He continued, now circling to the right. Kho'rak shifted his 
grip, lowered the staff and swung it around to take his opponent out at 
the knees.

//"At your knees! Jump!"//

Jack did as he was told and jumped. He heard the whistle of the staff as 
it cut the air inches below his boots. He landed hard, let himself roll 
and came quickly to his feet. His knee protested painfully as he 
continued circling.

Daniel eased his way back from the circling combatants, trying hard to 
project invisibility. He still held Jack's gun casually in hand.

Kho'rak lunged forward again, this time holding the staff like a spear, 
ready to impale. Jack caught the blur of movement but couldn't see the 
staff coming right at him.

//"Back up! Get away NOW!"//

But Jack wasn't quick enough, the staff scraped him across the ribs 
before sliding off. He pivoted and grabbed at the staff with both hands, 
holding it tight under his arm. He twisted his hold, yanked hard and 
more out of surprise than skill, managed to pull the weapon out of 
Kho'rak's grip. The Jaffa shouted in outrage and charged, knocking the 
staff weapon out of his grip as they collided. They fell to the ground 
and rolled, neither able to gain the upper hand, their fists ineffective 
at such close quarters. Jack brought his elbow up and managed to land a 
blow on the Jaffa's chin, the man's heavy breath leading him to his 
target. He scrambled away and pushed himself to his knees, then his 
feet, his own breath sounding harsh in his ears.

//"He's coming!"//

Dag's warning was barely in time as Jack was sent once more to the 
ground by a hard blow to the jaw.

Kho'rak threw himself after him, fully expecting to land on the Tau'ri 
and pummel him into submission. But Jack, obedient to the whispered 
instructions in his ear, rolled as he landed and twisted away, the 
Jaffa's outstretched fist merely landing a glancing blow across his 
cheek.

Jack lay on the ground, stunned, blinking against the vibrating arcs of 
light that danced across his eyes, oblivious to Dag's pleas to get up 
and get ready for the next attack. The arcs exploded as a booted foot 
connected with his ribs. With a snarl, Jack turned into the next kick 
and grabbed the Jaffa's foot and twisted, pulling Kho'rak down with a 
heavy thud.

Jack's world narrowed to the brilliant flares of pain that coruscated 
across his eyes, the flames dancing in tune with the beat of his heart.

The Jaffa was slow to regain his feet, his head swimming sickeningly 
from his impact with the ground. His arms felt heavy and his legs weak. 
He shook his head, angrily trying to clear out the fog. 

Kho'rak reached behind him to the sheath at his back and pulled out his 
knife.

//"Colonel O'Neill! Jack! He has a knife!"//

Sam watched the fight from her position in the front ranks of the 
prisoners, wincing with each blow, swearing under her breath at the 
inexplicable behavior of a certain smartassed Colonel. She couldn't 
figure out what he was trying to prove - Dammit, the man couldn't even 
see, why had he challenged the Jaffa to this one-sided duel? What did he 
hope to gain by getting himself beaten to a pulp? He didn't stand a 
chance!

There had to be a reason, a purpose to this foolishness. There usually 
was, if you knew where to look. 

Dag's urgent warning finally penetrated the flames that surrounded him. 
Jack groaned as he lifted his head, used his hands to push himself to 
his feet. He fumbled at his belt, pulled out his own knife. He could see 
the figure of the Jaffa leader, a shadow moving against the light. Jack 
sidled to the left, trying not to get tangled in his own feet.

Slowly, step by step, Daniel quietly made his way to Sam's side. He 
whispered her name, but she was too engrossed in the fight to hear. He 
gave her a nudge. Startled by the unexpected contact, she jumped and 
reached around, her hand shooting out to grab him around his throat. 
"Sam!" he croaked, "It's me!"

"Daniel!" Sam grinned at him as she let go of his neck and smoothed his 
shirt, letting her relief at seeing him safe show through in the 
smallest of gestures. Her eyes darted around, looking for the Jaffa, 
surprised to see them all totally absorbed in the fight between their 
leader and the Tau'ri Colonel. 

Sam took the gun as he handed it to her. "How long before Teal'c gets 
here?" she whispered.

Daniel opened his mouth, closed it, his eyes wide. "But how . . . how 
did you know?"

Sam pointed her chin at the circle where their Colonel and the Jaffa 
still circled, her hands busying themselves with the gun. "The Colonel. 
I couldn't figure out what he was doing. I finally decided the only 
reason he'd go through all that was if he'd heard from Teal'c."

Daniel nodded. "Teal'c came back with SG5 and SG7, they're on their way. 
Jack told Teal'c to hurry up." Daniel nervously checked his watch. "He 
should be here any time now."

While they talked, Jack and Kho'rak continued their circling. Kho'rak, 
ever the aggressor, lunged towards Jack with a chest-high slashing 
movement as he brought his knife hand down from left to right. 

//"Back! He attacks!//

So far Jack had been more than content to let Kho'rak take the lead, 
figuring he had a better chance if he just kept running away. All he 
needed to do was stall. But they'd escalated to knives now, and that 
changed everything.

Kho'rak attacked again - even before Dag's instructions, Jack saw the 
lunge and reacted, bringing his empty hand up to block the Jaffa's 
stroke, stabbing his own knife towards his opponent's unprotected side. 
He struck - first blood! 

Kho'rak grunted in pain as the knife dug a line of red across his side. 
He was beginning to hate those strange lenses the Tau'ri wore, he wanted 
to see the man's eyes when he killed him. He was tired of this game, 
tired of this Tau'ri, and just plain tired. He twisted his knife hand 
around and reversed the hold, sliding his knife up the man's arm. 

Jack grimaced as the knife drew blood. He hadn't even seen Kho'rak move 
- he'd been lucky so far, but Dag's whispered help could only go so far 
to make up for his own blindness. He was already gasping for breath, his 
hands slick with sweat and now blood, his knee protesting more with each 
step.

God, would Teal'c never get here? Surely it had been long enough!

Jack suddenly dropped, breaking away from Kho'rak's knife. He tried to 
jump back, stumbled and almost fell. He righted himself with an effort 
and found Kho'rak advancing again. He backed up, trying to stay out of 
reach.

All he had to do was stall. 

Sam and Daniel watched the two combatants, completely forgotten by the 
Jaffa soldiers, absorbed in the battle between their leader and the 
Tau'ri colonel.

"So how's he doing it?" Sam finally asked. "He can't - he doesn't have 
his vision back, does he?" She was startled by the thought, suddenly 
hopeful the burn wasn't as bad as they'd all thought.

"Dag's got my radio," he said uncomfortably. "He's giving him 
instructions over the radio."

"He's *what*!!" Sam turned to Daniel in astonishment. "*That's* his 
plan? That's the best he could come up with? And you let him do that?" 

Daniel could only look at her and shrug. "He said it was the best he 
could do. You think you could have talked him out of it?" he asked 
defensively.

Sam twisted one side of her mouth up. "If it had been me with the 
Colonel, I'd be out there doing the fighting." 

Beside her, Saskia had been listening with interest to their 
conversation. 

She'd had many opportunities to observe Daniel during the past week, and 
had been well impressed with his intelligence, his ability to understand 
and be understood, his eagerness to learn and to teach. And the miners 
had spoken highly of the woman's abilities, her appreciation for their 
ways and her willingness to share her ideas for improvements. 

But fascinating as the two Tau'ri were, they had more important things 
to do. 

So Saskia, town herbwoman, midwife, doctor and surrogate mother to the 
world, kept her eyes forward and whispered out of the corner of her 
mouth. "Are you two finished?"

They turned to her, suddenly silent.

"Your Colonel will not last much longer. Have you thought what you will 
do if he cannot last until your Teal'c arrives?"

Sam had the grace to look embarassed. She'd allowed herself to be 
distracted by her concern for the Colonel and her relief at seeing 
Daniel alive and well. She wouldn't let it happen again.

"Right," she answered. "Saskia, do you think anybody has any weapons . . 
." she paused as Saskia turned her palm to show the handle of her own 
well-used knife. "Right. Daniel, you and I will split up, spread out. 
Saskia, can you reach enough people to tell them help is on the way? We 
just have to last long enough till Teal'c gets here. If it looks . . ." 
she swallowed. "If it looks like the Colonel is . . . down . . . " she 
stopped to clear her throat. "Then we'll make our move. Everyone spread 
out, pick a Jaffa."

Saskia looked at Sam Carter and smiled. "A good plan. My people will be 
happy to strike back at the murdering 'sheskas.'"

Saskia melted backwards into the crowd and moved quietly among them, 
whispering a word or two here and there in a useful ear. Daniel stayed 
where he was, eyeing the two Jaffa closest to him. He held his handgun 
in a sweaty grip, the weapon half-hidden in the loose folds of his 
borrowed shirt.

Sam made her way closer to the arena where the two men still circled. 
Jack's arm dripped red and he kept working his hand as though trying to 
shake feeling back into it. His step was uneven and painful to watch, 
his movements unsure and hesitant. She couldn't believe he had even 
tried this, much less made a real fight of it. But he was tiring fast, 
surely he couldn't keep this up much longer. She slipped the safety off 
the gun and readied it to fire.

Jack knew the fight would be over soon. His leg was barely holding his 
weight, his arm was leaking blood all over the place, and what little 
vision he'd had was fading fast. There was a tight band of pain across 
his eyes that felt like it was digging into his skull. He could barely 
hear Dag's running commentary over his own harsh breathing. And Kho'rak 
just kept coming.

All he wanted to do was live long enough to see the son of a bitch die.

Kho'rak gathered himself, fighting the odd weakness in his legs. He 
charged the Tau'ri with a roar, his knife straight ahead to gut the man 
as they collided. 

Jack's only warning was the Jaffa's cry. Acting on instinct, he dropped 
to the ground just in time to trip his opponent and send him sprawling. 
He staggered to his feet and stood, knees flexed, arms held slightly 
away from his sides, his body poised and ready to attack. But he 
couldn't see, he didn't know where Kho'rak was! Jack moved his head from 
side to side, listening, smelling, trying to sense the enemy's presence.

An unseen force slammed against his wrist, slapping the knife out of his 
hand. Jack flinched back and circled, waiting for the next blow, waiting 
for the knife thrust that would end it all. No more time for regrets, no 
more time to find forgiveness, no more second chances.

He wondered where Teal'c was, and if he'd managed to stall long enough.

The blow never came. 

Jack cocked his head and listened. He could hear Kho'rak's heavy 
breathing not far away, could smell the Jaffa's sweat as well as his 
own. He heard the quiet murmurings of the crowd, unwilling witnesses to 
this archaic duel. The smoke from their trampled fires still lingered in 
the air. 

He drew himself up slowly, ready to end it now, his hands held loosely 
at his side in apparent surrender.

Kho'rak stepped lightly forward, wary of the sudden departure in the 
man's behavior. This man had been a surprisingly worthy opponent, but he 
had never doubted the outcome of the fight. Apparently the alien Tau'Ri 
had finally realized he was no match for the superior strength and skill 
of the Jaffa soldier. Kho'rak straightened his tired shoulders and took 
one strutting step forward after another. 

Dag, looking out of his hiding place in the second story of the 
blacksmith's barn, waited and worried that he'd miss the moment.

Sam lifted her gun, ready to fire as soon as the Jaffa raised his knife 
to strike. 

Kho'rak took one more step forward. He raised his free hand and touched 
the man's eye lenses. He lifted them off and dropped them to hang from 
the odd cord around his neck, and studied the face of the man before 
him.

He was blind. The cursed Tau'ri was blind!! 

Kho'rak was torn between admiration for the man's bravery and 
humiliation that a cripple had fought him to a standstill for much too 
long. 

Filled with confidence and sure of his power over this crippled 
outworlder, Kho'rak stood proudly before his prey and played to his 
watching guardsmen, ready now to deliver the killing blow.

Jack ignored everything but the broad figure of the Jaffa, standing 
within an arm's reach in front of him. He felt the man lift his 
sunglasses off and tried not to squint at the sudden draft of air that 
blew across his face. He flexed his fingers and rested his hand lightly 
on the holster at his side.

He could still see, just the faintest of shadows. He concentrated on the 
man's chest, where he thought his chest ought to be. In the back of his 
mind, in the part that was supposed to be seeing his life flash before 
his eyes - in the back of his mind the phrase "use the force, Luke" kept 
repeating over and over and over. 

"You fought well, Colonel Jack O'Neill," Kho'rak whispered in his rough, 
guttural voice. "Now prepare to die. Resk-ne-Rok." 

Jack heard the soft grunt of effort, felt rather than saw the sudden 
movement as Kho'rak brought his knife around to slash across his throat. 
He heard Dag shouting in his ear.

He jerked back, his right hand pulling his gun out of the holster as he 
moved. He lifted the Beretta and fired at point blank range into the 
Jaffa's chest. He felt the man's blood as it splattered on his face and 
arms, he heard the shocked cry that never quite made it past the dead 
man's throat.

"Resk-ne-Rok yourself."

                         *******************

Part 3

Jack sat where they put him, and felt useless.

It was all but finished, now that Ferretti had arrived with the rest of 
SG5 and SG7. The yelling, the electric whine of staff weapons, the 
staccato fire from his own MP5 held in Sam's expert hands, the sound of 
weapons striking flesh and breaking bones. The screams of dying men and 
women. 

The burnt smell of ozone, the coppery smell of blood. The smell of 
death.

It was quiet now. Hushed, in the aftermath of the battle, as if the 
citizens of Teosa were trying to make up for all the anger and violence 
they had found in themselves. 

He and Daniel had underestimated the power of Saskia's little brown jar, 
and the determination of her people. Before Kho'rak had even hit the 
ground, the Teosans were attacking the hated Jaffa soldiers, using 
whatever weapons they had at hand. Their knives, their pots and pans, 
their fists, their firewood - some of it still burning. 

The invaders didn't know what hit them.

Jack had tried to join the fight, he'd taken one step toward the sounds 
of fighting and tripped over the outflung arm of his dead enemy. Before 
he could right himself he heard Teal'c's shouted warning, "O'Neill! GET 
DOWN!!" Jack dropped to the ground and heard Teal'c's staff weapon 
firing over his head at an unseen target. The next thing he knew Teal'c 
had grabbed his arm, unmindful of the still-bleeding gash, lifting him 
to his feet and pushing him forward. He handed him off to Daniel, who 
dragged him through the square, dodging bodies and tripping over unseen 
obstacles, till at last he pushed him down against a tree and told him 
to stay put. "I'll be right back," he said, and disappeared.

But that had been hours ago. Or maybe only minutes. He couldn't tell any 
more.

He listened to the low-voiced conversations around him, tried to pick 
out a familiar voice. It was no use, it all blended together in one 
muted blur that meant nothing to him. He ought to just get up and go 
find somebody, demand they take him to Major Carter. In a minute, when 
he wasn't so tired.

Jack rested his head in his hand and massaged his aching temples, 
careful to stay well clear of burned and blistered flesh. His left arm 
lay numb and useless in his lap, the flow of blood slowed to a trickle. 
And his left leg only hurt when he tried to move, the bruised hip and 
wrenched knee protesting every minor shift of restlessness.

All in all, he felt pretty good. Considering how he should have felt. 
Which was dead.

He was damned lucky, and he owed a huge debt of gratitude to Dagger 
Jaskoll. He wondered where Dag had been during the fighting, and where 
he was now. Probably organizing his men and getting everyone back to 
their homes. He wondered where his team was, surely they were all okay, 
but why hadn't anyone reported in to him yet? Where was Ferretti? What 
was keeping everyone? Where were they?

"So here you are, Colonel." It was Janet Fraiser's cheerful voice that 
finally broke through his fretful thoughts. 

"It's about time, Doc! Where the hell have you been?" he answered 
testily. "Where's Teal'c? Daniel? Sam? What's going on? Are they all 
right? Did we lose anyone else?"

If Janet was offended by Jack's outburst she didn't show it. "They're 
all fine, Colonel, they're a little busy right now." 

Janet was pleased with the way her voice came out - not a quaver or a 
note of worry to be found. When Teal'c arrived back at the SGC, he told 
her only that Jack had been wounded by a staff blast across his eyes, 
and that he had been blinded. Sometimes the imagination was worse than 
the reality. Sometimes not.

Staff weapon burns were bad enough when it was only skin and flesh and 
bones - but combine that with eye damage and it was another matter 
entirely. 

Injuries to the eyes were always tricky, no matter what the cause. If 
the eyes themselves were damaged - the cornea, the retina, the optic 
nerve - then they might be looking at permanent, irreversible damage. 
Even if the energy discharge had somehow missed doing direct damage to 
the eyes, if the surrounding tissues had become infected and were left 
untended, the infection could have spread to Jack's eyes. And Janet was 
fully aware of what was in those field med kits - there was only so much 
you could prepare for, and no room for the specific treatments required 
for eye injuries. The SG teams certainly didn't carry sterile saline 
wash -- and from what she'd heard from Teal'c, they would hardly have 
had time to use it anyway. She was really, really worried about what 
she'd find underneath those dark sunglasses Jack was wearing.

"We just got here a few minutes ago. Saskia told me where to find you." 

Actually, it had taken entirely too long to figure out where they'd 
stashed him. She had to work her way through Teal'c, Captain Vergara and 
two Teosans before she finally found Daniel, who then directed her to 
Saskia. The woman had been working on one of her own patients but had 
snagged a passing youngster, charging the child with bringing Janet 
safely to Colonel O'Neill. Saskia had seemed shocked and more than a 
little embarrassed that no one had thought to look after him, and had 
promised to come herself as soon as she was done.

It was a secluded little corner of the park, a rough hewn bench under 
the shade of a short, leafy tree, surrounded by thick shrubbery. She had 
to admit it was the perfect place to hide Jack away and keep him out of 
trouble, but that didn't help ease her sense of frustration that she had 
a patient who badly needed her help and she couldn't even find him.

She took a moment to survey the damage while she pulled on a new pair of 
latex gloves. Daniel had filled her in on the injured leg, and she could 
see for herself the gash that ran along his left forearm, the edges 
roughly sealed together with dried blood. 

"So how are we doing, Colonel?"

"Been better."

She gently removed Jack's sunglasses and using the lightest of grips on 
his chin, turned his head from side to side. 

The wound itself didn't look too bad, she thought, for a staff weapon. 
First and second degree burns. There were signs of infection, but not 
nearly as bad as she'd expected. She'd debride when they got him back 
home, keep the area clean and bandaged, pump plenty of fluids in him, 
and he'd be healed up in no time. 

She held up her penlight and flashed it in Jack's eyes. He flinched away 
at the sudden bright light, the pain and shock bringing tears to his 
eyes. She had to grab his hand to keep him from covering his eyes. The 
last thing he needed was another nonsterile contact on the affected 
area.

"Doc, what are you trying to do to me!"

"Colonel, I need to look at your eyes. Now hold still!" she told him 
sternly. "All I need is a moment, just be patient."

She used her penlight again, this time noting the constriction of his 
pupils. His eyes were swollen and badly bloodshot, which was to be 
expected, but they didn't appear to have sustained direct damage. She 
moved the light from side to side, but there was no corresponding 
reaction. Good news then, and bad news. The sooner she got him to a 
specialist the better.

She leaned forward and smelled his face. What was that aroma? Slightly 
minty, very nice. She could see the remnants of a thin blue ointment on 
the affected area. Hmmm. She wondered what they'd been using.

Jack was startled to feel the doctor's breath on his cheek. "Doc?"

"Hmmm." He felt her finger lightly touch his cheek.

"What are you doing?"

"There's a very interesting cream. That's not something in the field med 
kits. Where did you get that?" She was intent on tracking down the 
source of this ointment, eager to find out if it had helped or hindered 
her patient's recovery.

"It is mine," Saskia spoke up. "It's from the 'pava' plant. I use it to 
make a paste, which I can then combine with any number of mixtures, 
depending on the nature of the wound I need to treat."

"Really." The doctor was fascinated. She'd have to talk to this Saskia 
some more. She didn't get a chance to do much field work in medicine, 
and she was determined to make the most of her opportunity.

Janet lifted Jack's arm and began to examine the gash that snaked its 
way from wrist to elbow. "So this 'pava,' you'd use it for something 
like this, too?"

"Of course. I would combine the 'pava' with a tincture of swallowroot 
and after the wound is cleaned and stitched, I would apply the salve and 
keep it bandaged."

"Doc!" Jack had grown impatient while the women were discussing the 
ointment, which he personally found to be painful and smelly. 

Janet broke off her examination and her discussion with Saskia. "Yes, 
Colonel?" 

"Where's SG-1?"

"We are here, Colonel." 

Jack turned to Teal'c's voice, a grin on his face. "Teal'c! Good to see 
you again. How was the trip?"

"It was . . . . scenic."

Jack snorted. "I'll bet. So what's going on? You guys all right? Carter, 
you seen the Doc yet? Daniel? 

"The major's right here, Colonel, and she's next on my list," Janet 
answered for her. Sam's face was pale and her scalp wound had continued 
to ooze blood down the side of her face. She moved stiffly, in obvious 
pain from the wound on her side despite Saskia's earlier attentions.

"Daniel's doing liaison work with Ferretti and the Town Council, 
Colonel," Sam spoke up. "He's fine. But we lost eight more of the 
Teosans, and two of Ferretti's men are wounded. We managed to take out 
most of the Jaffa, with just six survivors. Teal'c seems to think 
they're salvageable, Sir. He's going to turn them over to Bra'tac."

"Huh. Ya think so, Teal'c?"

"Yes, Colonel O'Neill, I do. I have spoken with them. They were lost, 
and no longer believed in their gods, when Kho'rak found them. He 
offered them a leader and they followed. I have confidence Bra'tac may 
teach them the error of their ways, and show them a better path."

Jack thought about that for a moment. He didn't believe it for a second, 
himself. They had to be more trouble than they were worth. But if anyone 
could turn them around, it would be Bra'tac. 

"All right."

"Colonel?" Janet had waited long enough, she needed to get her patients 
indoors to complete her examinations and start their treatments. Just 
because she wasn't in her familiar territory didn't mean she was any 
less of a doctor. Jack and Sam both needed medical attention, and it was 
high time they got it.

"Teal'c, help him up, we're taking all the wounded down to the Council 
Building. You, too, Sam. *AH*!!" She stopped Jack before he could say 
anything. "Colonel, you need stitches and some more work on your eyes, 
and I need to take a look at that leg. So let's go. Now hop to it."

"Very funny, Doc." Jack climbed painfully to his feet and leaned on 
Teal'c for the long journey to the makeshift infirmary. "You know, you 
should take some lessons from Daniel on your bedside manner. At least he 
never makes bad jokes."

                         *******************

The house at the end of the quiet cul-de-sac was dark and still. Inside, 
the lone occupant took a drink of his ice water and wished it was beer. 
He sat in his chair, facing the picture window that looked out onto the 
meadow behind his house, and listened to the rain. 

He liked sitting here, looking out at his meadow. Not his personal 
meadow, of course. His property ended with the split log fence he'd put 
in when he bought the place. But further back, framed by Douglas firs 
and quaking aspens -- that meadow. He could sit here and watch the 
wildlife come out to play, watch the flowers bloom and then wither in 
the fall, watch the winter storms blow and melt away. Back when he could 
see.

There had been a day last spring that sounded just like this. It was one 
of those rare days when he'd been able to come home from the SGC, and 
all he'd wanted was a few hours alone to unwind and relax, and forget. 
There had been a slow steady rain, the sky always threatening more but 
never delivering. The sun had just broken through the cloud cover, 
sending beams of sunlight spraying out onto his meadow. A doe had 
stepped carefully out from the sheltering trees, feet daintily 
displacing the rain-wet grass. She had paused, head upraised, turned 
towards his house as though she could see him watching her. A moment 
later, responding to some unseen signal, her fawn had followed her out 
of the shadows. They had stood there, touched with yellow tinted light, 
until a passing car had honked its horn and scared them away, the doe's 
white tail flicking a final farewell as they disappeared into the trees.

Doc Fraiser had kept him at the Air Force Academy hospital for three 
days. She brought in a specialist to look at his eyes, and Dr. Murken 
had done what doctors always do. He poked and prodded and measured this 
and examined that, until Jack would have gladly strangled him if only he 
could have found him. X-rays, MRI, computer enhanced imaging to map his 
eyes, they did it all. And then they made him wait in the dark for 
hours, until Murken finally pronounced a "cautiously optimistic" 
diagnosis. Trauma to the optic nerve, he said, with extreme swelling of 
the blood vessels. Start him on an intense course of intravenous 
steroids and give it time.

Every morning they unwrapped his eyes, and they held him still while 
they washed this and scraped that, and told him all about sulphur 
dressings and neuroprotective eye drops and antibiotic ointments. Then 
they sent him off for samples - blood samples and tissue samples and 
urine samples and cell samples and every other sample they could think 
of. Every afternoon they wheeled him out for physiotherapy and 
hydrotherapy and followed that with another round of treatments.

And three times a day, they brought him back to his room and unpopped 
the little cork on the I.V. tube stuck in his arm and pumped him full of 
steroids and antibiotics, and told him what a fine job he was doing. 

Sometimes he wondered what they saw, all the nurses and therapists and 
aides and technicians. Sometimes he could hear the pity in their voices 
and tried to cover it with the sound of his own voice, cracking jokes 
and telling stories, reminding them he was still there, letting them 
know they didn't have to feel sorry for him, he was doing just fine. 
Wasn't he?

The doctors were nauseatingly thrilled with his progress, the burns were 
all but healed already - Janet thought it might have something to do 
with that stuff Daniel kept putting on his face, back on Gem. The stuff 
Saskia gave him. But every day, they kept putting the bandages back on 
and told him to be patient.

Jack sat in his chair, facing his window, and wondered how much longer 
he had to be patient. 

All that technology, all that medical knowledge available out there, and 
no one here on Earth could tell him if he'd ever get his eyes back 
again. The Tok'ra could heal his eyes, but he was damned if he'd ask 
them for anything. Thor would help, but he had bigger problems to deal 
with. The Tollan? Hell, they wouldn't even share their precious weapons 
technology, why would they share their medical expertise for one lowly 
pain-in-the-butt Colonel? The Nox? Maybe. He wondered how desperate he'd 
have to be, to go begging from any of them.

Jack took another drink of his water, listening to the clink of ice 
cubes against glass. 

On the third day Janet told him General Hammond had assigned him a 
personal aide and sent him home in the capable hands of Corporal 
O'Reilly. He knew when O'Reilly saluted, he heard the subtle sound of 
fabric on fabric, the almost imperceptible click of heels. He was 
getting good at subtle.

He returned the salute, and just had to ask.

"Corporal O'Reilly, eh? Tell me, do you ever get called . . ."

"Radar? All the time, Sir," she answered. "But I don't mind. There's a 
lot worse things to be called." Her voice was filled with self-
deprecating humor. "Sir? With your permission?" And with that, she took 
his hand and placed it on her elbow, and led him out of the hospital to 
the waiting car. 

She was good, this Corporal O'Reilly of his. The first thing she did was 
make him practice walking around his own house. "Permission to speak 
freely, Sir?" She'd asked, in that tone of voice that said she'd speak 
up whether he gave permission or not. "Right now, you don't know whether 
you'll ever get your eyesight back or not. So you have to be prepared, 
Sir. And the first thing you need to do is learn your own home."

So she made him count the steps from his front door to the kitchen, and 
from there to the living room, and there to his bedroom, and then back 
again. And she made him trace the route over and over again until he 
could keep track without even thinking about it.

Then she organized his closet. And his bathroom. And made him learn 
where everything was until he could find it in his sleep. Or with his 
eyes closed, he suggested. Which she thought was funny - he could tell, 
he heard her choke down her laughter and then she got a case of the 
giggles. Most unprofessional. He was rather proud of it himself, but he 
was used to being ignored. It was kind of refreshing to have someone 
actually laugh at his jokes.

Next she laid out all his pills and taught him which ones were which. 
She made him pick them up and touch them, feel them, hold them in his 
hand. Here, Sir, this odd little pill with five sides, it's called 
dexamethasone. Here's your antibiotic, Sir, this big purple and grey 
capsule. And this next one has a special coating, it feels like a piece 
of candy, can you feel the difference? And this one here, the 
painkiller, it's just a boring little flat white pill. Don't forget 
which one is which, Sir, and remember where you put them.

And then she started on his kitchen skills.

By the time she was done he felt like he'd been steamrollered. Always 
politely, always "with your permission, Sir." He felt like he was back 
in Ops, like what he'd done to Daniel back on Gem - know your territory, 
plan for contingencies, and be prepared for surprises. This, he could 
understand.

Every morning O'Reilly drove him to the hospital for another round of 
tests and treatments and therapy. Then she brought him home, made him 
fix lunch, and made him practice finding his way around. Took him 
outside. Watched him make his own dinner, made sure his clothes were 
ready for the next day, and left him alone again.

She'd make a fine general some day. She was a natural at giving orders.

She picked him up this morning just like all the other days, and 
delivered him to Janet for another round of torture. But today, after 
all his therapies and treatments and tests, Janet had left the bandages 
off. And he could see, after a fashion. Some peripheral vision, and a 
little bit in front, if he didn't try too hard. 

Hard to get too excited about a few shapes and shadows. Hard not to. 

And so he sat here, alone in the dark, trying to see through the rain 
and the fog. 

He wondered what retirement would be like this time, if he were still 
blind. Forget the telescope. He could sit around and listen to Mozart. 
Practice the piano, he hadn't done that in years. He could go fishing, 
that would be nice. If he could only get someone to take him there and 
then point him toward the water. Or he could get himself a white cane 
and go for walks. He wondered if Quantico would bring him in as a guest 
lecturer on Black Ops. Too bad about that "hands on" kind of teaching, 
though. Or he could talk to the cadets at the USAF Academy. Tell them 
all about being a pilot. That'd be a laugh.

He wished O'Reilly was here now, she had a way of deflecting his 
restlessness. But O'Reilly was gone, some sort of emergency leave - 
she'd left before he could even ask her what it was.

Jack finished the last swallow of water, rolling the ice cubes around in 
his mouth until they melted. The rain slowed to a drizzle and eventually 
stopped altogether. After a time, he finally pushed himself out of his 
chair and walked through his darkened house to the kitchen to set his 
glass in the sink. He turned and made his way through his living room 
and into the bathroom, flipping the light on as he went. 

After days of darkness, the light flashed painfully bright in his 
sensitive eyes. He ducked his head and winced as startled nerve endings 
sent waves of intense pain shooting through his eyes. He hid his face 
with one hand and groped for the light switch with the other. Safely in 
the dark again, he found the pill bottle left waiting on the shelf by 
the sink. He fumbled the lid off, felt for the flat little white pills. 
He popped two in his mouth and swallowed them dry, then leaned back 
against the wall and sank to the floor.

God, he was tired of this.

He'd had the first aftershocks back on Gem. Bright colored lights and 
pulsing pain, the feel of sandpaper grinding away at his eyes. 
Unpredictable and unexpected, he never knew what would set one off or 
how bad it would be. Doc Fraiser put him on a mild muscle relaxant - the 
slick little candy coated pills - telling him it would help prevent 
them. Or at least make them less . . . incapacitating. 

And then she gave him the little flat pills for when the candy pills 
didn't work.

Janet had told him the aftershocks would go away. She told him just be 
patient, his eyes were getting better, he was making progress. 

What was that saying? 

Patience is a virtue.

And good things come to the guy that waits.

Jack held his head gingerly in both hands, fingers spread out to massage 
his aching eyes, and waited for the pain to go away.

He didn't care what Janet said.

Waiting sucked.

                         *******************

"Any pain here?" Janet asked as she pressed on Sam's ribs around the now 
fully healed staff weapon burn.

"Hm uh," Sam mumbled around the thermometer stuck in her mouth.

"How about here?"

Sam removed the thermometer. "I told you, Janet, I feel fine!"

"And I told you, Sam, I'm the doctor here, and I'll be the one that 
decides when you're ready for active duty. You are not going to rush me 
into making a premature decision." She took the thermometer out of Sam's 
hand and checked it. "Hmmm," she muttered to herself. She picked up 
Sam's chart and studied it with a frown. "Temperature's normal. Blood 
pressure's normal, blood work is normal." She looked back up at Sam 
where she sat on one of the infirmary beds and grinned. "Looks to me 
like you're ready. I'll let General Hammond know."

"Let General Hammond know what," the General's voice boomed from the 
entrance to the infirmary.

"Good morning, General," Sam couldn't keep the smile off her face. 
"Janet's releasing me for active duty!"

"Good news, then, Major," he said with an answering smile. "I'm sure 
you're anxious to get back to work."

"Yes, Sir. I've been thinking about that ore we brought back from Gem. 
Lt. Simmons was going to start the spectroscope analysis, but I believe 
we might have better luck if -"

Hammond held up his hands to stop the flow of words. "Major Carter! You 
can fill me in on the details later. Let me know when you've completed 
your report."

Sam smiled crookedly and nodded. "Yes, Sir." 

General Hammond's smile lingered as he watched the Major leave the 
infirmary, her step light and eager. It was good to have Carter back. 
Constrained by duty and responsibility, unable to go out into the field 
with his people, it always pained him deeply when one of them was 
injured in the line of duty. Major Ferretti's two men had already been 
released for duty, their wounds much less severe than Carter's. 

Three down, one to go.

The mission to Gem three weeks ago was supposed to have been a milk run 
- a reward, of sorts. SG-13 had made first contact, and they'd been 
quite hopeful about the possibilities of establishing ongoing contact 
with the people there. He'd handed the follow-up mission to SG-1, 
thinking to keep them out of trouble for a while - Just enough challenge 
to keep them all on their toes, but no indication of anything out of the 
ordinary. No more than usual, that is, when you were using ancient alien 
technology to send people out to explore strange worlds under strange 
suns.

Despite his years of service, it never ceased to amaze him how the most 
mundane assignment could suddenly go sour. What were the odds that a 
band of rebel Jaffa would turn up on this one world out of a million, 
right in the middle of SG-1's little get-acquainted visit?

He snorted. When would he learn. When it came to SG-1, nothing was 
*ever* routine.. And leave it to SG-1 to be at the focal point of yet 
another crisis - and as usual, pull a miracle out of their figurative 
hats.

They'd come close this time, too close. Only four wounded, the Colonel's 
injuries by far the worst. Which brought him to the reason for his visit 
to Dr. Fraiser's domain. He turned back to find the doctor watching him, 
her eyes meeting his in a look of total understanding. She, too, took 
every injury inflicted on the SGC teams as a personal insult.

"Dr. Fraiser, you're aware that Teal'c and Dr. Jackson returned to Gem 
yesterday?"

"Yes, Sir. They went back with Major Ferretti, didn't they?" 

"They sent back a message from the Teosans this morning. Seems they have 
some sort of harvest celebration coming up soon, and they want Colonel 
O'Neill and Major Carter to attend."

Ah, so that's what this was all about.

"And you're wondering about the Colonel." Janet frowned in thought, 
choosing her words carefully. 

"He's making very good progress, Sir." And he was. All the various 
bruises and contusions had faded. The knife cut on his left forearm was 
healing nicely and thanks to three weeks of daily therapy, his knee was 
almost back to full strength.

"The burns around his eyes are completely healed." She'd left the 
bandages off for good just a few days ago, making sure both he and 
Corporal O'Reilly knew he still needed the special sunglasses she'd 
given him to wear, whether he was indoors or outside. She'd been well 
pleased with her decision to request Corporal O'Reilly as the Colonel's 
aide. The young woman had a no nonsense approach that seemed to mesh 
well with the Colonel's own rather irreverent outlook. Face it, the man 
could be downright disrespectful, insolent and rude, especially when 
forced to deal with his own mortality. The young Corporal took it all in 
stride and even managed to find humor in the whole situation - and 
helped the Colonel see it, too. 

But the same day she had sent the Colonel home without the bandages, 
O'Reilly had left on emergency family leave. O'Neill had flatly refused 
to take another aide and had insisted he could take care of himself, his 
one concession being a driver to take him to the hospital for his daily 
therapies and treatments. 

She had a copy of Dr. Murken's latest report on her computer, waiting to 
be copied and filed with the rest.

"His vision is improving, but definitely still impaired. But he's a long 
way from being ready for any kind of active duty, Sir."

"I'm not asking you to release the Colonel for duty, Doctor," the 
General said soothingly. "I'm asking you if he'll be up to joining our 
new allies for a party. We're trying to establish friendly trade 
relations with the Teosans. They have requested the Colonel's presence, 
and I would like to see that request honored.

"Sir, at this point I can't answer that question. And I can't in all 
good conscience allow Colonel O'Neill to go off-world when he's not 
ready."

"I understand that, Doctor. But he'll have his team there to look after 
him, and Major Ferretti and his men, as well."

"Sir --"

"We don't need to make the decision now, Dr. Fraiser. But I've already 
spoken with Colonel O'Neill, and he's willing to make the trip."

Janet eyed her superior officer. "So you're saying all you need is my 
approval and it's a done deal."

"All I'm saying, Doctor, is that it would be a very good thing if we 
could send Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter to Gem for the Teosans' 
celebration." The General turned to leave the Infirmary. "Doctor, just 
keep me apprised of the Colonel's condition."

Janet watched him walk away, her arms folded across her chest. "Yeah, 
good for whom," she muttered under her breath. 

                         *******************

Daniel felt like he'd been waiting by the Stargate for hours. Teal'c and 
Dag Jaskoll didn't seem to mind - their conversation was made up of a 
steady stream of strategies and contingency plans, and they didn't even 
seem to notice how long they'd been waiting. Ferretti was just as bad - 
he was right there with them, surveying the terrain one more time, 
consulting with the other two about the outpost the SGC was going to 
establish on Gem.

Daniel was sitting by the DHD, idly picking grass and just killing time. 
He supposed he could have waited back at Teosa, at least there he had 
plenty to keep him busy. But he wanted to be here when Jack and Sam came 
through the Gate. It's just that it was taking so long, and he couldn't 
help wondering if something had happened back on Earth. 

He and Teal'c had returned to Gem a couple weeks after Jack had gone 
home from the hospital, and they'd been here a week now. The last report 
from Janet had said he was doing fine, he was making great progress. But 
maybe he'd had a relapse. Maybe Janet hadn't released him after all. 
Maybe Jack had decided he didn't want to come back to Gem, after 
everything that had happened to him here. Maybe -

The inner circle of the Gate rotated in its track and one by one, the 
chevrons began to light up and lock into place.

By the time Daniel had scrambled to his feet at the base of the Gate, 
the others had somehow appeared next to him. Maybe they weren't quite so 
nonchalant as they appeared.

The event horizon formed and liquid blue quantum particles exploded out 
onto Gem, then collapsed back into the containment field that was the 
Stargate. This next moment always seemed to last forever, no matter how 
many times he'd witnessed it -- the moment you waited for your friends 
and colleagues to step through the Gate, the moment just before you 
found out who it was and what condition they were in this time. Whether 
it was SG-3 or SG-10, or one of the Tok'ra or the Tollan, the waiting 
never got any easier. 

The shadow of two figures formed and solidified, finally stepping 
through the Stargate. 

It was Jack and Sam, just as expected. Daniel blew out his breath in 
relief and wondered if that moment of not knowing would ever go away. 

He watched closely as Jack made his way towards them, Sam a half-step 
behind and keeping a wary eye on his progress. Jack walked slowly down 
the uneven stone steps at the base of the Gate, his head cocked to one 
side, his stride deliberate and careful. His sunglasses were dark and 
opaque, his face hidden by the hat pulled low to further shield his 
eyes.

Sam was hatless, her blonde hair gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. She 
grinned as she saw Daniel and Teal'c waiting by the DHD with Dag and 
Ferretti and practically bounced down the steps towards them, pulling up 
short when she realized she was outdistancing the Colonel. 

Daniel felt a grin cover his own face and a swift glance at the others 
showed he wasn't the only one.

"Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, welcome back to Gem," Dag said warmly. 
"We are most happy you could return for our celebration."

Jack reached out and clasped Dag's outstretched hand. "Dag, good to see 
you again," he said quietly. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." He 
paused, then went on awkwardly. "You know, I never had a chance to say 
thank you. I owe you my life."

"That may be, Colonel," Dag replied with a smile. "But the people of 
Teosa owe you a greater debt. It is good to see you looking so well."

Jack shrugged uncomfortably, lifting his hand in a gesture of denial. He 
turned to Ferretti and casually returned his salute. "Ferretti, I see 
the natives haven't run you off yet."

Ferretti grinned back at him. "No, Sir. They've tried, but I ain't 
running." 

Jack turned to Daniel and Teal'c and smiled, his hands resting easily in 
the pockets of his fatigues. In contrast to Sam, who had arrived with 
the usual complement of gear, Jack carried only his knife and his 
sidearm. "So, kids. Anything happen while we were away?" Daniel thought 
it was a good try, as smiles went, but it wasn't the same old Jack. Not 
for the first time, he wondered what was going on inside that head. 

"It is good to see you, Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c said with his usual 
gravity. "General Hammond's plans to establish a base on Gem are 
proceeding smoothly. I have been helping Dag Jaskoll train his men, and 
Daniel Jackson has been working with the people of Teosa to establish 
trade protocols. I believe they wish to exchange," he paused, his voice 
puzzled at the obscure reference, "butter for guns."

It was as much of a straight line as Teal'c ever offered, and they all 
waited that extra beat for one of Jack's trademark bad jokes. 

Dag finally broke the awkward silence. He gestured towards the horses 
cropping grass on the other side of the DHD. "Why don't we head back to 
Teosa. It's a long ride, and we don't want to disappoint anyone by being 
late," he said tactfully.

Daniel watched Jack as they made their way over to the horses. There was 
something odd about the way Jack was moving, but he couldn't quite put 
his finger on it. He wished Jack would take off his sunglasses so he 
could look him in the eyes.

Jack mounted his horse and settled into the saddle. Clucking softly to 
his mount, he urged the horse into a sedate walk and followed after Dag 
and Teal'c.

Daniel found himself riding alongside Sam. "How are you doing, Sam?" he 
finally asked, watching her for any signs of stress or pain. 

"I'm fine. Janet released me for active duty a week ago." She brought 
her hand up to sweep the hair back from her temple. "See? The scar is 
almost gone already. Janet thinks it won't even show in another month." 
Daniel couldn't tell if she sounded disappointed or happy at the news.

"Good." They rode in silence, listening to Teal'c and Dag explaining to 
Jack what they'd been doing the past week. It was obvious they were 
trying to draw him out, and equally obvious they weren't having any 
luck. 

"So . . . ." Daniel finally asked. "How's Jack doing?" .

Sam didn't answer right away, clearing weighing her answer. "Janet says 
the burns are all healed," she temporized. "She says his eyes are 
getting better. She and Dr. Murken expect a full recovery."

"Yeah, but how's he *doing.* Does he ever talk about it . . . ." 
Daniel's voice trailed off as he looked at her. "Oh, yeah." This was 
Jack, after all.

Sam flashed a wry grin at him. "Yeah. I don't know, Daniel." Jack was 
hard to understand even in the best of times. "Sometimes he seems okay, 
but . . . I just don't know." She struggled to put her vague disquiet 
into words. "He keeps to himself a lot. He's awfully . . . quiet. Like 
the lights are out, but he's still sitting there in the dark. I miss his 
jokes."

"Huh. I should think that would be more of a relief than a source of 
concern," Daniel answered dryly.

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, you'd think."

They rode on in silence for awhile.

Daniel kept puzzling over Jack's behavior. Sam was right, Jack was being 
unusually quiet. He hadn't noticed anything different before, those 
first few weeks after Jack had gone home from the hospital. They'd taken 
turns dropping by, checking on him, making sure he was okay. All that 
worry going to waste, he'd thought at the time - Jack seemed to have 
everything under control. 

All three of them had dropped by to check on him one night, bringing 
food as an excuse to keep him company. They arrived just as Jack's aide 
was leaving, the diminutive Corporal saluting Sam and murmuring a polite 
greeting to himself and Teal'c. They found Jack in the living room, 
sprawled out in a chair facing the big picture window at the back of the 
house. His eyes were still bandaged then, the layers of gauze stark 
white against his tanned face. 

Daniel had been surprised at how well Jack was doing. He didn't know 
what he'd expected - anger maybe, some resentment -- crankiness, at the 
very least. But Jack had seemed remarkably comfortable. He hadn't really 
needed their help for anything. He walked around his house like nothing 
was wrong, he didn't even have any problems with the steak they cooked 
for him. They watched hockey on TV and Jack had made them do play by 
play while he listened. Now, looking back on it, Daniel supposed he 
should have been more suspicious of Jack's good humor. Just like him to 
try to put the rest of them at ease and hide whatever was really going 
on inside.

The next day Janet had left the bandages off and told them everything 
was going great, and soon after that Daniel and Teal'c had gated to Gem. 
They had only found out yesterday that Jack was being released to visit 
the Teosans. Daniel had figured he'd be overjoyed to have his vision 
back and was expecting to see the old Jack - arrogant, annoying, 
dropping jokes right and left to make up for lost time. This Jack was 
different, though, somehow subdued. It just wasn't right.

"So what do you think?" Sam finally asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe having trouble dealing with his own mortality. 
Feeling a little humbled by dependence. Mad at himself for getting 
hurt." Daniel was ticking the options off on his fingers. "Anxious to 
get back to work. Nervous about it all. Ashamed of his own weakness. 
Feeling guilty about everything and blaming himself. Wondering if he 
could have done anything differently." He looked over at Sam. "Not to 
speak of what all this could have done to his career."

"Yeah. Pretty much what I thought, too."

Another mile rolled by.

"So, Sam. How are *you* doing," Daniel asked again.

Sam shot a quick smile at Daniel, grateful to him for asking. It hadn't 
been easy for her, either. This had been just a little too close for all 
of them, and she had her own burden of guilt to carry. She kept seeing 
the faces of the Teosans, especially the child that had been one of 
Kho'Rak's first victims. And she'd suffered through a few aftershocks 
herself, from the staff weapon burn, but the last one had been days ago. 

"In comparison? I'm fine."

"Because, you know, if you want to talk about it . . ."

"Thanks, Daniel. I'll keep that in mind. And you?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Guilt, worry, self-blame. Working through it, 
though."

They looked at each other and burst into laughter. Once started they 
couldn't stop, finally sputtering into half-stifled chokes and giggles.

It was amazing what a good laugh could do for you.

Teal'c listened to the laughter behind him. It sounded good, and he 
allowed himself a slight smile. These Tau'ri were always so full of 
guilt and remorse when things didn't go the way they planned. They 
believed they had to take responsibility for everyone they met. Annoying 
at times, he also found it oddly uplifting. Take this mission to Gem, 
for instance. Through no fault of their own - though he was sure O'Neill 
would disagree with him - they had found themselves in a situation that 
endangered their own lives as well as the lives of the Teosans. And they 
had responded with great cunning and bravery. He was honored to be 
called their teammate and their friend.

Teal'c turned his attention to Colonel O'Neill. It was easy to see the 
man was not yet recovered from his wounds, and Teal'c wondered if 
O'Neill was aware of the nature of his injuries. He resolved to keep 
close watch over his friend, and offer his assistance when O'Neill was 
ready to accept it.

                         *******************

Jack stood on the outskirts of the crowd, his back turned to the 
celebration, looking up at the bluff behind the town. It was a great 
party. Happy people, tables overloaded with food, a never ending supply 
of the native beer, everyone dancing and singing. His people were 
acquitting themselves well. 

The Teosans had been more than friendly, they'd been downright 
embarrassing. The Mayor had given a speech amid lots of laughter and 
cheers, and there'd been round after round of friendly toasts thanking 
SG-1 for saving them from those evil 'sheskas,' the Horus Guards. They 
praised Daniel for his clever plan and quick thinking, Sam for her 
bravery and expertise, and Teal'c for his steadfast refusal to give up. 
But they saved the best for Jack, extolling his great courage and honor 
in defeating the devil Kho'rak, his bravery in the face of great 
personal danger, his willingness to sacrifice himself to save the lives 
of the Teosans, with whom he had no ties of loyalty or responsibility.

Not a word about stupidity or stark, raving idiocy. Nothing about fear 
and nightmares and aftershocks and eyes that might never be the same 
again. Nothing about blame, or guilt.

Behind him, as late afternoon turned to dusk, the Teosans were talking 
and laughing, someone was singing to the lilting music of a fiddle and 
flute. His team was somewhere back there in the middle of it all, 
enjoying themselves. As they should.

But Jack had had enough, he had to get out of there before all that 
well-meaning good cheer suffocated him. 

"Colonel O'Neill!" He heard the cheerful, slightly inebriated voice of 
one of Dag's hunters. 'Here, Sir, I brought you something to drink."

Jack turned around, intending to politely decline the offer. The man was 
juggling several mismatched containers of ale under one arm and holding 
a burning torch in his other hand. As he turned, the man's grip on the 
wood slipped and the torch swooped down toward Jack, the flames reaching 
out with a loud whoosh as the sudden movement fed more oxygen to the 
burning straw. Jack's instinctive grab for the falling torch fell short 
as he froze, the image of a staff weapon's golden lightning burning into 
his eyes, and the torch landed on his outstretched arm and bounced off 
to land sputtering on the ground. 

Dag's man stammered out profuse apologies as he tried to simultaneously 
stamp out the torch and put out the smoking cinders that had landed on 
Jack's outstretched arm. Jack stood there, eyes tightly shut behind his 
sunglasses, reliving that moment just a month before. Daniel was on the 
ground beside him, Jack had just knocked him aside and rolled to one 
knee, facing the Jaffa that had intended to shoot Daniel in the back. He 
heard Daniel's warning shout, ducked and turned just as a second Jaffa 
fired his staff weapon at them. The discharge flamed by in front of him, 
the trailing edge of energy lashing across his face, scorching flesh and 
burning his eyes.

Confused by Jack's continued lack of response and satisfied the flames 
were all out, the man left his bottles where they dropped and backed 
off. When Jack realized what had happened it was too late, he was alone.

Jack bent down and picked up the bottles and the clay jug. He turned 
back toward the bluff looming high over the village, silhouetted against 
the evening sky. It might be interesting to see what that little 
clearing looked like in moonlight. Hell, what it looked like at all. 
Catching up the handle of the jug with one finger and tucking the 
bottles under the other arm, Jack headed down the empty street.

At the edge of the square, hidden in the dark shadows cast by a trio of 
fruit trees, Teal'c watched his friend walk down the street. After a 
time he stepped out in the fading light and drifted quietly after him.

                         *******************

Somewhere along the line he must have taken a wrong turn. He'd been 
looking for the clearing and had somehow found this place, a natural 
overlook a hundred yards above the village. Understandable, really. The 
last time he was here he'd been blind. 

The overlook was situated halfway between two hairpin turns less than 40 
feet apart, where the trail widened out several feet on either side. On 
one side was the steep upward slope of the bluff, on the other side a 
haphazard pile of rocks and boulders masking a sheer drop to the bottom 
of the cliff. If he was right, this was the place his team had first 
used to spy on the Jaffa.

He could still hear the cheerful sounds of merriment from below, the 
music and laughter drifting in and out as the evening breeze swirled 
erratically around him. He found a broad, flat boulder and sat down, 
carefully placing his various containers on the rocks around him.

Doc Fraiser had warned him to take it easy while he was on Gem and had 
gone on and on about what he could and couldn't do. His mind had 
wandered a bit, but he was pretty sure hiking up a mountain wasn't on 
her list of permitted activities. He propped his left leg up on another 
rock and massaged his aching knee. She was probably right.

Jack pried the cork out of the clay jug and took a deep swallow. Not 
bad. 

He looked out over the cliff, watching the spreading pink and orange 
glow of the sunset. He lowered his gaze to look at the town down below. 
Or tried to. Frowning, he turned his head to the side and lowered his 
chin. Sure, there it was. He took another drink of the ale and wiped his 
mouth with the back of his hand.

The last time she tested him, Janet told him he was up to 80 percent of 
normal vision. Great progress, she said. Peripheral vision was fine, 
central vision was fine. Everything was fine, except for that 
insignificant little 20 percent below the line of the horizon. No 
problem, he could handle it. But it was a bitch going up and down 
stairs. Or walking out of Stargates. Driving a car was obviously out of 
the question. Hell, tying his own shoes was an adventure.

Not to speak of climbing up a rock-strewn dirt trail at dusk, loaded 
down with three mismatched bottles of beer and a whole crapload of 
emotional baggage.

With a sigh, Jack lifted the sunglasses off his face and wiped his hand 
across his eyes, wondering if he pressed hard enough, could he somehow 
magically wipe the rest of his eyesight back into place. But magic was 
only an illusion, and he needed more than just a trick to put things 
back the way they belonged.

Janet was always trying to get him to talk. Kept asking him how he felt. 
He felt fine, damn it. Or he would, soon enough. He always did.

Jack took another swig of the ale, wondering how much it would take 
before he didn't care any more.

                         *******************

When Teal'c found him, Jack had finished off the jug and had just 
started on the first bottle. 

"Colonel O'Neill," he called from the darkness, knowing that even 
drinking, it would not do to come up on his friend unannounced.

Jack waved the bottle in his direction. "Teal'c! Come to share a drink 
for old time's sake?" 

"As you are aware, Colonel O'Neill, I do not drink alcohol."

"Did Sam send you? She's been hovering over me like a damned babysitter 
for days."

"Major Carter did not request that I look for you."

"Daniel send you up here?"

"No, Colonel O'Neill. I merely -- "

"Because I'm fine, you know. Fit as a fiddle. A hundred and ten percent. 
At the very peak of my abilities."

"It was not my intention to --"

"So what'd you follow me up here for?" Jack's voice bordered on 
rudeness.

"I was concerned for your welfare."

Jack raised the bottle to his lips and drank, watching Teal'c over the 
long neck of the bottle. 

"Don't be." 

Jack lowered the bottle and set it down on the rock beside him. He was 
working blind, down in that 20 percent below the horizon area. He 
misjudged the distance and the bottle dropped the last few inches, 
landing on edge and falling over. It rolled across the rock and dropped 
to the ground, dark liquid gurgling out and dripping into the thirsty 
ground. 

Jack leaned over and cocked his head, his hand groping through thin air 
inches away from his elusive target. Muttering a curse, he closed his 
eyes and reached further, his fingertips finally brushing against the 
smooth glass. He wrapped his hand around the bottle and held it, his 
fingers turning white with the strength of his convulsive grip. He drew 
a deep breath and turned the bottle upright, carefully and firmly 
setting it in place on the ground.

Jack straightened up and wiped a shaky hand across his eyes. He put his 
head back and looked up at the stars.

"I'm not drunk, you know."

Teal'c nodded slightly in agreement. "I know."

"It's just . . . It's not all back yet."

"I know."

"And I'm not . . . I'm not very good at waiting."

"Indeed." It was amazing the multitude of meanings Teal'c could convey 
with one simple word.

Silence settled comfortably over the two of them, Jack sitting quietly 
amid the boulders, staring at the sky; Teal'c as still and unmoving as a 
rock himself, lending strength by his very presence.

                         *******************

The evening's single moon was high in the night sky and the revelry 
below them was still going strong when Jack stirred. Something had 
changed. He looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of his unease. 
He looked at Teal'c and saw the acknowledgement in his eyes - he could 
sense it, too. Jack cocked his head and listened, trying to filter out 
the natural sounds of the night from the unnatural. There - in and 
around the sounds of Teosans celebrating, the faint metallic click of 
boots and equipment. 

Jack relaxed. That would be Daniel and Sam, come to find the missing 
members of SG-1. Suddenly restless, he pushed himself off his rock and 
brushed by Teal'c, making his way down the trail to greet them with a 
glib excuse for hiding out in the dark. 

But that wasn't right, the sounds were behind him, not in front. 

He turned around and froze as he took in the figure that met his eyes.

It was a Horus Guard - one of the renegades. A huge shadowy figure, he 
was coming down the trail behind Teal'c. A trick of the moonlight 
revealed his face, contorted in a vicious snarl. He stopped and raised 
his staff weapon, orange lighting ready to strike a killing blow on the 
unsuspecting Teal'c. 

Jack tried to warn him, tried to scream at Teal'c to move, he tried to 
make his hand find his gun and pull it out of its holster. But all he 
could see was a blinding flash of light that filled his vision and 
filled his mind with pain, and he couldn't face that again, he couldn't 
make himself move, he couldn't take a chance the Jaffa would turn that 
awful energy on him and leave him alone in the darkness again.

The Jaffa fired his staff weapon at Teal'c.

In a split second that lasted an eternity, Teal'c saw the shock and fear 
in Jack's eyes, and the unspoken warning. He threw himself forward and 
twisted as he fell, grunting in pain as the energy blast took him full 
in the shoulder, leaving charred flesh and smoking cloth. He rolled and 
came up against the rocks, his own staff weapon trapped beneath him. He 
tried to pull his weapon out, but his body had grown heavy and his arms 
refused to carry out his orders.

Jack's mind screamed silently in fear, telling him to turn and run for 
safety. But he didn't. He couldn't.

It was his job to protect, his job to guard and defend. He'd been 
conditioned through years of experience to take command, to take 
responsibility at the expense of his own self-preservation. Now that 
bone-deep instinct to sacrifice and save warred with helpless panic and 
the overwhelming need to escape before it was too late. He stood frozen 
in place, watching his friend cut down by enemy fire.

The Horus Guard fired again, the bolt of energy hitting the rock beside 
Teal'c, sending granite chips and energy backlash washing over him in a 
fountain of shrapnel. Teal'c jerked once and lay still. 

With a shudder, Jack wrenched himself into action. He threw himself back 
up the trail, trying desperately to draw the Jaffa's fire away from the 
helpless Teal'c. Unable to see the ground beneath his feet, he stumbled 
and skidded over the scattering of loose rocks that littered the trail 
and fell gracelessly to the ground. His outflung hand glanced off the 
half-empty bottle he'd set down so carefully just a short time before. 

The Jaffa turned his attention from the fallen warrior, bringing his 
weapon to bear on Jack.

Jack grabbed the bottle and hurled it toward the Guard. The unexpected 
missile found its target, shattering upon impact with the Jaffa's face. 
Filled with rage, blood running from cuts on brow and nose and cheeks, 
the Jaffa leaped forward and swung his staff like a cudgel at the man 
sprawled at his feet. Jack raised his right arm in a reflexive, futile 
move to protect himself, and felt the staff connect with bone-jarring 
impact. Groaning in pain, he clutched his arm to his chest and tried to 
roll away, out of reach. The guard reversed his hold and followed, 
whipping the staff across the side of Jack's face. The blow was hard 
enough to stun him and he lay there, unable to move, unable to escape.

Fighting to stay conscious, Jack felt the Horus Guard pull on his arms 
as he bound his wrists together behind his back. The guard snarled a 
curse as he fumbled with the unfamiliar straps holding Jack's knife and 
handgun, then grunted in satisfaction when they finally came free. 
Hardly glancing at the unfamiliar weapons, he tossed them into the trees 
beside the trail.

Jack nearly screamed when the guard yanked on the rope one last time, 
giving his injured arm a vicious twist. His eyes throbbed and flared 
with phantom pain, his vision impaired first by glaring flashes of 
light, then suffocating darkness. He lay on the ground, lost in a world 
of pain and fear, and felt himself slip into darkness.

                         *******************

Part 4

Dra'pak gave the rope one last jerk and stood, looking down at his 
captive. So this was the Tau'ri leader who had fought Kho'rak in battle 
and killed him in Resh-ne-Rok'El. He didn't look so formidable now, 
curled up on the ground, helpless, gasping for breath and grimacing in 
evident pain. The blow to the man's arm should have done no more than 
stun him, but even Dra'pak had heard the crack as the bone broke. 
Kho'rak must have been a fool, to let a weakling like this defeat him. 
Dra'pak would not be so foolish himself. 

Dra'pak stepped over the man's prone body and walked over to the rocks 
where the crumpled body of the shol'va lay. He knelt down and found a 
pulse on the Jaffa's neck. He had grievously wounded the man with his 
staff weapon, but he knew the infant Goa'uld within him was already 
working to heal him. Now *this* was a man to be reckoned with. He had 
heard about this man, the former First Prime of Apophis who had betrayed 
his god and deserted his men, joining forces with the inferior Tau'ri to 
fight against the System Lords.

They all knew it was a lost cause, but the ongoing rebellion was a 
persistent annoyance, draining their resources and provoking the Gods 
into unfamiliar displays of uncertainty. The Tau'ri were, in fact, 
responsible for his own precarious situation - he had become separated 
from his comrades in a skirmish with the shol'va and the Tau'ri, and had 
been forced to ally himself with those ragged discards of lesser gods 
just to survive.

Working quickly, Dra'pak used a length of rope to bind Teal'c's hands 
securely behind his back, then another to tie his feet together. He 
removed the shol'va's hand weapons, then went through the pockets of his 
strange clothing to remove anything else that might be a weapon. It was 
difficult to determine a purpose for many of the items he found, they 
all looked so primitive and alien to him. He shook his head as he 
worked, wondering what had brought the shol'va to the point where he 
would ally himself with inferior beings like the Tau'ri. They were 
tricksters, terrorists who refused to accept their place, unworthy to 
exist in the same universe as the Goa'uld and their loyal Jaffa.

Dra'pak had barely survived the Teosan massacre that had killed so many 
of his comrades. He had watched the Resk-no-rok duel with his fellows, 
and had been taken by surprise when the deceptively peaceful Teosans had 
attacked. Wounded by a lucky blow from one of their warriors, he had 
made a strategic withdrawal, moving from building to building, crawling 
in the dirt like a dog. With great skill and cunning, he had evaded the 
Tau'ri soldiers until darkness fell, and then used the night to make 
good his escape. In the following weeks he had watched and waited, he 
had followed their paths and shadowed their hunters. As the days grew 
shorter and the nights colder, he had begun to despair of ever leaving 
this Gods-forsaken world.

But now the Gods had handed him a gift. That other Tau'ri, the so-called 
peaceful explorer from Earth, had said it himself. These men were 
valuable property, they could be traded for position and power. Apophis 
would pay well to recover the shol'va and his Tau'ri lackey. But he must 
consider his options. There were other worlds to which he could escape, 
other men like himself. But it would not be easy. It was a long trip to 
the Stargate, and it was well guarded. 

He needed time to think, time to prepare a plan. He would take the two 
men back to his camp until he could decide how they could best be used 
to serve his purposes.

Dra'pak looked at the big shol'va, then at the Tau'ri soldier. He was a 
mighty warrior, but he could not take them both at the same time. The 
shol'va was unconscious, and would stay that way for some time to come. 
He would take the other first, then return for Teal'c. Dra'pak dragged 
the unconscious Jaffa off the trail and concealed his body in the 
shadows there. 

Returning to the trail, he found the Tau'ri soldier had wakened and was 
trying to get to his feet. He watched for a moment, amused by the man's 
struggles. Finally tiring of the game, he stepped around in front of the 
man and waited. When the man looked up he grinned and backhanded him 
across the face, knocking him to the ground. He bent to inspect the 
man's bindings and found the broken piece of glass in his hands. Lip 
curled in contempt, he grabbed the man's hand and twisted until the 
shard of glass fell from his fingers. He tightened his grip and held it 
for a moment, just to hear the groan of pain he could produce. 

It was the little things that made life so satisfying. 

Convinced the Tau'ri was sufficiently subdued, Dra'pak grabbed him by 
the collar and pulled him to his feet with one hand. He gave him a 
shove, and followed closely behind as the man stumbled up the trail. He 
seemed extraordinarily uncoordinated and Dra'pak swore at the man's 
weakness. Finally losing patience, he spat out a curse and cuffed the 
man across the back of the head, then caught him before he could fall 
again. He slung the man over his shoulder and left the trail to make his 
way through the trees to his camp. He was a mighty warrior, but the man 
was heavier than he looked, and it was a long way to his camp. By the 
time he reached the clearing where he had set up his camp, Dra'pak was 
panting with the effort of carrying his dead weight. 

He dropped the Tau'ri and left him where he lay. Dra'pak was uneasy and 
irritated. The trip up the trail to his camp had taken longer than he 
planned, and he still needed to go back for the other prisoner. It would 
not do to be discovered by some wandering Teosan, not now when he was so 
close to his escape. Keeping his goal firmly in mind, Dra'pak turned to 
go back down the trail just as the Tau'ri stirred and groaned. Muttering 
another curse at the Tau'ri, he quickly found another piece of rope and 
used it to tie the man to one of the trees on the edge of the clearing. 
Like an animal, he thought with some amusement. As he deserved. 

With a smile of smug satisfaction, Dra'pak strode out of the clearing 
with all the confidence of a man who knew he was finally going to get 
everything he deserved.

                         *******************

Sam relaxed comfortably on the outskirts of the noisy crowd and watched 
Daniel being led through the steps of the latest dance. It was 
controlled chaos, as far as she could see. Saskia and Dag were directing 
the mayhem, leading a procession of laughing couples in a complicated 
set of steps, winding through the spectators, following a pattern she 
had long since given up trying to understand. Daniel was listening 
intently to his partner as she explained the steps and Sam had no doubt 
by the time they were done he'd not only learn the steps but be able to 
tell her the history of the dance and how it fit into the Teosans' 
culture. He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

She idly wondered how long it had been since Teal'c had gone after Jack. 
The Colonel had been polite during the Teosans' ceremony, and had done 
his best to be gracious and diplomatic, but it wasn't long before he 
faded quietly into the background and tried to disappear. Teal'c had 
seen him go and had caught her attention, letting her know with a nod 
that he would follow him up the trail. She had allowed herself to relax 
and enjoy the party, knowing she could trust Teal'c to keep an eye on 
the Colonel. But she supposed it had been long enough, they really 
should go find the missing members of SG-1.

The dance was finally coming to an end, the participants collapsing in 
an exhausted heap, and she decided to start thinking seriously about 
maybe getting up to find Daniel. They really should go find the rest of 
their team.

                         *******************

Jack's face was pressed into the ground, dried blades of grass 
scratching his cheek and tickling his nose. The earth smelled dry and 
musty, with the hint of a half-familiar scent that didn't belong. 
Somewhere behind him the sounds of breaking twigs and rustling leaves 
gradually receded as the Horus Guard passed back through the trees with 
heavy footsteps.

He had only a vague idea of how he got here. 

Wherever here was. 

The last clear memory he had was finding a piece of glass just large 
enough to safely grab hold of, its edge razor sharp. He remembered 
trying to get up, he was going to escape and then use the glass to cut 
himself loose. He remembered seeing the Jaffa's fist coming but had been 
too slow to avoid the backhanded blow across his cheek. The soldier had 
grabbed his injured arm and squeezed, until the glass had dropped from 
his numbed hand.

He'd been forced up the trail, stumbling over obstacles he couldn't even 
see. And suddenly they were here, and he was thrown down on the ground 
hard enough to shake the cobwebs out of his head.

He wondered why the Jaffa hadn't killed him while he had the chance. Why 
was he still alive? Why did he go to all the trouble of bringing him up 
here? Was this the man's camp? He must have somehow survived the 
fighting and escaped into the hills, spent the last month hiding in the 
forest, waiting for . . . something. His chance to get even? A chance to 
get to the Stargate? Maybe he thought he could use Jack as a hostage. 
Hell, they were all pretty hot commodities back in Goa'uld town. Maybe 
this Jaffa thought he could buy himself a reward from the System Lords.

But if Jack was still alive, maybe Teal'c was, too.

He'd seen Teal'c take an enormous amount of abuse and still survive. Old 
Junior was a resilient little bastard, surely he could handle a little 
staff weapon burn. Or two. The renegade Guard had dropped Jack here and 
left - gone off to do something else. Two hostages had to be better than 
one, maybe he'd gone back for Teal'c. He had to believe Teal'c was still 
alive. He had to be.

He had stood there and let Teal'c be shot. He could have warned him, he 
could have tried to push him out of the way. He could have done 
*something* to throw the Guard off, anything to keep Teal'c from being 
shot in the back because Jack O'Neill was too scared to move. The great 
Colonel Jack O'Neill, the pride of the SGC, veteran of more black ops 
missions than he could count, proud owner of the Air Force Cross for 
heroism and the Silver Star for courage above and beyond . . . Jack 
O'Neill had stood there like a coward and allowed his friend to be shot 
down in front of him. He could never forgive himself for that. Never.

But even now, as he thought of that staff weapon turned on him, his 
vision was filled with an orange-gold fire and he shivered in fear, his 
heart racing, and he bit down hard to keep his teeth from chattering at 
the thought of being lost in the dark again.

How many times had he been here before? His record was good, but it 
wasn't perfect. How many times had he lost men under his command, how 
many times had he tried to convince himself he'd done everything he 
could to save them? But this time was different. It wasn't lack of 
planning or bad execution that had done them in, it was his own blind 
panic. He'd been rooted to the spot, helpless to move, and his failure 
had cost Teal'c his life.

Not his life. Teal'c was still alive. He had to be.

But lying here feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to *keep* him 
alive. If this Horus Guard got through the gate with either of them, if 
one of the System Lords got their hands on them, it would give new 
meaning to the phrase living hell. He didn't want to imagine an endless 
life of torture and resuscitation, revival only so he could be killed 
again for the sick pleasures of the Goa'uld. Jack breathed deeply, 
forcing himself to set aside the fear and the weakness. Jack O'Neill was 
a coward and a sham, but he'd have to deal with it later when he could 
afford the luxury of feeling sorry for himself. 

His first order of business was to escape. He had to free himself, find 
a weapon of some kind, and ambush the Guard when he returned with 
Teal'c. Piece of cake.

Jack opened his eyes and let the sight of brown grass and shadowy trees 
against the star-strewn sky chase the images of flames and sudden pain 
from his mind. His head hurt and his eyes were throbbing and raw, but at 
least he could see. Sort of. His arm felt hot and sore and he could feel 
it swelling against the rope. A little experimentation proved that he 
could still move the fingers of his right hand, but it wasn't pleasant. 
He could live with that. Jack grimaced and waited for the pain to 
subside to the quiet ache he'd grown used to. 

There was that smell again - sharp enough to burn, unpleasant enough to 
make him turn away with involuntary disgust. But he didn't have time to 
figure out what it was or why it seemed so familiar, he had other things 
to do.

He gently twisted his hands, testing the limits of the rope. Not much 
give, but he'd make do.

The first thing he had to do was get his face out of the dirt so he 
could see. Moving carefully, trying not to put any pressure on his right 
arm, Jack levered himself up to his knees. He found himself looking 
across an open field of grass, surrounded by a thick line of trees 
curving around to either side of him. He gathered himself up and tried 
to stand, but was brought up short by a choking sensation around his 
neck. 

"What the hell --" he muttered. Jack looked back over his shoulder and 
saw the large trunk of an old tree that had fallen across one end of the 
meadow, and the rope that led from the tree to his own neck. He swore 
again. 

No wonder the soldier had left him here alone. Of course he wasn't 
worried about Jack getting away before he could bring Teal'c back. The 
bastard had tied a rope around his neck and tethered him to a tree like 
some kind of animal. 

With his hands tied behind his back, escape just got a whole lot more 
interesting. 

Uttering a string of low-voiced curses, Jack hitched himself closer to 
the fallen tree to ease the pressure on his neck. The rope must have 
been tied with some kind of slip knot, as it was now uncomfortably snug 
around his throat - he was lucky he hadn't strangled himself. The trunk 
of the old tree was supported by an assortment of broken branches that 
kept it from resting flat against the ground, and the far end of the 
rope was tied around one of the largest. He tried to look at the knot, 
but it was too dark to see anything useful. He figured he had maybe 6 or 
7 feet of leeway, if he was lucky. 

Taking advantage of the slack in the rope, Jack finally stood and leaned 
against the tree, unconsciously shifting into the narrow slot between 
the sharp stub of a broken branch on the right and the broken edge of 
wood that stuck out of the bark on the left. He'd caught himself on that 
stub before and could still remember the bruise it caused on the palm of 
his hand. His feet settled comfortably into the shallow depression in 
front of the tree trunk, the left side just a little higher than the 
right, perfect for easing the weight off a sore hip and twisted knee.

Jack looked around the little pocket-sized clearing in the trees above 
Teosa and knew where he was.

"Crap," he whispered. He was right back where he started four weeks ago, 
in the clearing where he and Daniel had made their camp. They had spent 
24 hours here, waiting for Sam and Teal'c to get to the Gate and bring 
back their reinforcements. Waiting to find out what had happened to Sam, 
waiting to see if Teal'c and Ferretti would make it back before the 
outlaw Jaffa could kill any more of the Teosans. Twenty-four hours of 
stomach-churning uncertainty, helpless and powerless, trying to come to 
terms with his own uselessness. 

His prison, and his refuge.

And, he suddenly realized, he knew what that smell was. The unpleasant 
smell that didn't belong in a forest - the damned 'pava' cream Daniel 
kept using on him. Hell, he thought with disgust, he should have known 
right away where he was, just from that.

"Crap," he said again, a little louder. He knew this place. He knew the 
tangle of tree roots that reached out into the grass, and how high you 
had to lift your foot to keep from being tripped. He knew the 
overhanging branch on the far side that hit you in the face unless you 
remembered to duck, and the narrow little creek that split the glade in 
two. He knew every inch of this place. 

And he knew, when he and Daniel picked up and made their little run back 
down the trail, taking care of their packs had been the last thing on 
their minds. As far as he knew, no one had thought to correct their 
oversight. He looked around the clearing, trying to peer through the 
gloom. The moon was setting, the trees were casting long shadows across 
the open field, and his eyes refused to cooperate. 

They carried all kinds of useful things in their packs, half of which 
they never needed. Were the packs still here? What had the Jaffa done 
with them? Had he emptied them, scattered their contents? Had he even 
recognized what he had? Jack's mind spiraled dizzily, filled with 
possibilities.

And then he found them. Piled carelessly together, a dark irregular 
shape against the ground. Hidden in the deep shadows of the trees only a 
few feet away from him. 

Jack pushed off against the tree trunk and stepped forward to the limit 
of his leash. He blinked and tried to clear his blurring vision, trying 
to judge how much closer he needed to get. God what a clich� - so close 
and yet so far away. He looked back at the rope that tethered him to the 
dead tree branches, and realized for the first time that it was his own 
nylon cord. Under other circumstances, he might appreciate the irony. 

At least it answered one question, the Jaffa *had* been searching 
through their gear.

Jack gingerly knelt down, feeling the twinge in his knee as he 
temporarily put all his weight on it. Oh yeah, this would be on Doc 
Fraiser's list, too. He lowered himself to the ground and rolled to his 
left side, then worked to maneuver himself as close as he could get to 
the discarded packs, pulling the rope around his neck to its limits. He 
could feel the tension on the cord, half strangling him as it dug into 
his throat. Craning his neck to see, he stretched his legs out and 
delicately toed his boot around the edge of the one pack he could reach. 
His vision was strobing dead black and bright white, and he didn't know 
if he was passing out from lack of oxygen or just seeing things again. 
He brought his knee up and gently started pulling the pack towards 
himself with his foot. Slowly, carefully, he brought the pack as close 
as he could, then repositioned himself to bring it even closer. 

Twice more and he found himself up against the dead tree, his leash now 
hanging loose but still pulled snug around his throat. Just thinking 
about it made him want to cough. Jack struggled to stifle the urge as he 
used his feet to push the pack up against the wood. He turned around and 
started groping at the pack. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he fumbled 
with the straps and the ties, trying to open it far enough to get his 
bound hands inside and start looking for something useful. He just hoped 
he'd recognize it when he found it.

Everything was loose in the pack, clothes stuck in every which way, a 
packet that felt like an MRE, something round and smooth that had to be 
a grenade, a waterproof container of matches - and something that could 
only be a book. This had to be Daniel's pack - no one else would think 
of taking a book along on a mission! But if it was Daniel's pack, and if 
the Jaffa had decided there wasn't anything in there important enough to 
bother with . . . 

Daniel was an archeologist. An archeologist who loved a good dig, and 
always carried his tools with him. After all, he'd say, his voice taking 
on that lecturing scientist tone that made Jack want to throw spitwads 
at the ceiling and pass notes to the little red-haired girl in the front 
row, you never knew when you might need a good set of tools. A good 
archeologist was always prepared. How many times had Jack ragged on him 
about lugging the damned things around? 

Jack forced his hands further into the pack, searching through 
unidentified objects, looking for the canvas pouch that contained 
Daniel's archeological kit. It wasn't much of a kit, it barely had 
enough tools to make itself respectable. A trowel, some string, a brush 
for loose dirt, a couple of plastic bags, a pair of tweezers, a spade. 
Two little glass jars for samples.

If he could find Daniel's kit, if he could break one of those sample 
jars . . . .

Jack closed his eyes and concentrated on his hands. There - his fingers 
brushed against rough canvas. That was it, that *had* to be it! He 
worked awkwardly to pull the pouch out, finally bringing half the loose 
odds and ends out with it. He fumbled at the pouch, turning it over and 
around, searching for the snap closure, swearing when it refused to 
cooperate. 

Damn it, it shouldn't be this hard! It was such a simple thing - unsnap 
the bag, pull out the contents, find the glass, figure out a way to 
break it, and cut the rope. But he was working blind, his hands tied 
behind his back, one hand next to useless, trying to bend arms and 
shoulders in ways they weren't meant to go.

Jack swore again at his own impatience. He could do this. He had to. 

He could hear Corporal O'Reilly's voice in his ear. //"You don't need 
your eyes, Colonel. Let your fingers do your seeing. You already know 
where everything is, all you have to do is remember it with your 
hands."// It was his first day home from the hospital and it was his 
first taste of the corporal's tyranny. She had seemed so . . . harmless, 
at first. Faceless, anonymous, her presence a necessary evil to make 
sure he didn't hurt himself stumbling around in the comfort of his own 
home.

He was so wrong. 

//"You can sit there feeling sorry for yourself, Sir, or you can get up 
and get on with your life."// How did she know so much? How did she know 
what he was thinking? 

//"Are you just going to give up? Are you going to let a little thing 
like being blind stop you? What about your team? What about the 
Goa'uld?//

She wouldn't let him settle into the comfort of his own home, she 
wouldn't let him get away with the strategic retreat he had planned. 

//"Whether it's right or not, they're all going to be watching you. What 
do you want them to see?" //

There were days he would have cheerfully locked her in the closet and 
thrown away the key.

But she laughed at his jokes.

There! He had the pouch open, the contents spilled out on the ground. He 
sorted through them, looking for the little glass sample bottles. His 
groping fingers found, of all things, a chain. He lifted the chain 
between his thumb and fingers, feeling the solid round links, trying to 
figure out what Daniel would be doing with a chain.

And then he had it. 

It was a knife. A Smith and Wesson stainless steel neck knife, its 2-1/2 
inch blade folded into a 3-inch black molded fiberglass handle. Attached 
to a chain, meant to be worn around the neck. $14.99 on sale.

Jack had given him the little knife as a joke years ago, to make a 
point, because Daniel kept losing his combat knife. He had no idea 
Daniel still had it, much less had stuck it in his tool kit and still 
carried it around. 

Jack breathed a silent thanks to Daniel and all the strange turns of 
life and fate and coincidence that could result in that knife being in 
Daniel's possession, in his stupid little archeological tool kit, in his 
pack where it never should have been, right here and right now. 

He struggled to open the knife one-handed, finally bracing the handle 
against his boot while he pulled the blade out with his fingernails. He 
ran his finger across the blade, testing the edge, and found it 
disappointingly dull. Daniel must have been using it for something, it 
was a lot sharper than this when he gave it to him.

But it would have to do.

Working blind, twisting his arms in ways they were never meant to go, he 
held a joke in his left hand and began sawing at the rope around his 
wrists with the edge of Daniel's little knife.

                         *******************

The Teosans' party was finally winding down when Daniel and Sam made 
their way up the trail in silent companionship. 

They found the trail that branched off the main track, leading to the 
overlook high on the bluff behind the town. They followed it in unspoken 
agreement, both instinctively feeling this was the way their teammates 
had taken. As the moon faded and the night darkened, Sam pulled out her 
flashlight and shone the light on the trail before them. The light 
bobbed up and down, making the rock-strewn trail into a surreal moving 
patchwork of bright relief and deep shadows.

They'd been on the run from the Horus Guards when they first came to the 
overlook. Daniel had led them there, the village children having shown 
him the way earlier in the week. It had been a refuge, of sorts - they'd 
finally been able to stop and regroup. But it was also the place where 
they'd witnessed the cold-blooded murder of three innocent people, one 
of them just a child.

Sam still wondered what would have happened if she'd refused Jack's 
order to go with Teal'c to the Stargate. What would she have done? Could 
she have saved any more of the Teosans? And what about Jack? What was it 
like for him? Injured and blind, in strange territory, dependent on 
someone else for every move, seeing what had to be done but unable to do 
it himself. If she'd stayed behind . . . . well, for one thing, he sure 
as hell wouldn't have been the one to fight Kho'rak! She didn't know 
whether to report him to Janet for being totally psycho or recommend to 
General Hammond that he be cited for heroism.

And in the end, she supposed, it didn't really make any difference. Jack 
had defeated Kho'rak and saved the day yet again. But at what cost this 
time?

She stopped when they reached the overlook, wanting to see the village 
from this vantage point one more time. So much had happened on their 
first mission, so many good things replaced and overshadowed by the pain 
and violence of the final 24 hours. She wanted to see what Teosa looked 
like at night, with only the moon and stars for light. Sam and Daniel 
stood among the boulders, gazing out at the peaceful village and the 
quiet valley, listening to the music and the laughter floating up from 
below as the revelers gradually made their way home. 

It was beautiful.

                         *******************

How long had it been since the renegade Jaffa had dumped him here and 
gone back for Teal'c? Five minutes? Ten minutes? Longer? How much time 
had he wasted trying to figure out where he was, looking for their packs 
and trying to find something useful in the one pack he could reach?

How long would it take for the Jaffa to go back down the trail and bring 
Teal'c back? 

Jack kept working the rope against the edge of the knife. As soon as he 
got his hands free he'd cut the rope around his neck, then go for the 
packs. Who knew what was there that the Jaffa had decided wasn't 
important. They had grenades there, mines, detonators. He could feel the 
frayed edge of the nylon cord, he knew he was making progress. He just 
hoped it would be soon enough. 

All he needed was enough time.

He tried to concentrate on his hands. He had to hold the knife in his 
left hand, his right hand was useless and practically numb. He wished 
his arm was as numb as his hand. He kept working at the rope, but the 
awkward angle made his arm cramp up and he had to stop every few minutes 
to work the kinks out. He tried to think about weapons and strategies, 
but his mind refused to cooperate. He kept coming back to the one 
thought he was trying to avoid.

What if the soldier's midnight walk had nothing at all to do with 
Teal'c? 

What if Teal'c was already dead? 

He saw it again, the enemy Jaffa standing there in the middle of the 
trail, his staff weapon pointing at Teal'c. He saw the white gold energy 
erupt from the weapon and strike Teal'c, while he just stood there and 
watched. And did nothing.

His hands still, Jack sat back on his heels and bowed his head. 

He wondered what Daniel and Sam were doing. He had no way of knowing if 
the Teosans' celebration was still going on or not - at what point would 
they realize he and Teal'c weren't there? When would they decide to come 
looking for them?

Because come they would, he was certain of it. Sooner or later they'd 
come looking and walk right into the renegade's trap. They wouldn't know 
anything about him. They'd figure out where Jack had gone because 
sometimes they were just too smart for their own good, and they'd come 
looking and they'd walk right into his trap. And sooner or later the 
damned Jaffa would realize he couldn't handle all four of them and then 
he'd start making choices. Who he would keep, and who he would kill.

Jack couldn't bear the thought of one more life on his conscience. No 
more. Not Sam. Not Daniel.

And not Teal'c. Teal'c was alive, he was sure of it. He wasn't allowed 
to die, not here, not now, not because Jack O'Neill was too scared to 
save him.

And the Horus Guard had only gone back down the trail to get Teal'c and 
bring him back, and Jack had no idea how long he'd been gone or when 
he'd get back, but he couldn't afford to waste any more time.

Jack bent to his task with grim determination. He had to get the rope 
cut, he had to find a weapon and be ready when the Jaffa came back with 
Teal'c.

The nylon cord was tough, but it couldn't hold up forever. The rope 
finally parted with a snap, the sudden release catching him by surprise. 
His wrists flew apart and his right hand struck the trunk with a thud. 
He gasped and fell back against the tree, cradling his broken arm 
against his chest, the pain sharp enough to take his breath away. Jack 
was no stranger to the pain of broken bones, but that didn't mean he had 
ever gotten used to it. He wished he could stay there, just curl up and 
wait for the hurt to go away.

But he just didn't have the time.

He brought the knife up and tried to cut the rope that kept him a 
prisoner. If he didn't have a renegade Jaffa to worry about, if he had 
another hour to work at it, if the damn rope wasn't so strong, he might 
have succeeded. The knife was just too dull to cut anything else.

Jack dropped the knife and brought his left hand up to fumble at the 
knot at his neck. It was pulled so tight he couldn't get a grip on any 
part of it - he couldn't get himself loose! He had to move, he had to 
get out of here. He worked his fingers between his throat and the rope 
and tried to pull it free, but it was no use, it wouldn't loosen. He was 
still trapped!

"Son of a bitch," he snarled. He followed the rope back to the tree 
branch and felt for the knot there. No use, it was just as tight and 
just as impossible to untie with only one hand.

He suddenly became aware of the footsteps -- the heavy tramp of a Jaffa 
who felt he had nothing to hide.

Realizing he'd just run out of time, Jack made a dive for Daniel's pack. 
He frantically searched through the odds and ends scattered carelessly 
on the ground. His questing fingers found a smooth round object and 
grasped it in his hand - the grenade!

He couldn't believe the Jaffa had left it there in Daniel's pack. He 
couldn't have known what it was - not even Bra'tak had recognized them, 
the "primitive" weaponry so different from the grenades the Goa'uld 
used. 

He could hear the big Jaffa make his way towards the clearing, leaves 
rustling and twigs breaking as he passed, his feet thumping hard on the 
ground with every heavy step.

The renegade Jaffa stepped into the glade, Teal'c's large inert form 
slung over one shoulder, grunting with the effort of hauling the 
unconscious man the entire distance. In the moonlight his shadowed face 
looked exhausted. He was sweaty with effort and he stumbled as he walked 
out on the grass. And in that moment, Jack saw him as a man, not as some 
faceless servant of evil, not as an incubator for one more filthy snake, 
but as just another man compelled by circumstances to fight his battles 
as best he could.

Dra'pak looked over at his captive and saw the Tau'ri watching him. He 
was on his knees, searching through one of the strange bags they carried 
with them. He was untied, somehow he had freed himself! Lonely, weary 
beyond measure, underfed, alone and near defeat, Dra'pak saw his means 
of release from this hellhole on the verge of escape, and all his hate 
and resentment condensed in white hot rage. With an angry snarl the 
Jaffa dropped his burden and raised his staff weapon, more than ready to 
kill the man and rid himself of his annoying presence forever.

                         *******************

"You know," Daniel finally said, "we should probably go find Jack and 
Teal'c."

Sam took one last look at the peaceful valley and sighed. "I suppose." 
She picked her way through the boulders to the trail, stopping suddenly 
when she heard glass crunch beneath her boots. Snapping her flashlight 
back on, she bent to examine the broken pieces of glass, some of them 
still wet from the contents of the bottle. "Looks like someone's been 
through here recently," she commented, figuring she knew exactly who it 
was.

Daniel had stopped closer to the boulders and now held up an empty jug. 
He smelled the open mouth and made a face. "Two guesses who it was."

Sam played her light along the trail, looking for more glass. Her 
orderly mind couldn't stand the thought of leaving the glass just lying 
there and she began picking up the pieces, with some vague intention of 
making a neat pile of them somewhere in plain sight. She thought she saw 
lightning on the horizon above the bluff, and glanced up at the clouds 
to see how far away the rain might be. Funny, they didn't look like rain 
clouds. 

"Help me pick these up, Daniel, we'll have Saskia send someone up for 
them tomorrow. Daniel?"

But Daniel was engrossed in a discovery of his own. Flashlight in hand, 
he was examining the ground at the base of one of the boulders, wet with 
a dark substance that looked red and suspiciously like blood. He knelt 
and ran his fingers through the dirt. He raised his fingers to his nose 
and inhaled. This was definitely not beer. 

Daniel shone his light around in a circle, not knowing what he was 
looking for but feeling more and more uneasy with each passing moment. 
"Hello," he said softly, as he found unmistakable signs of something 
large and heavy having been dragged into the brush on the mountain side 
of the trail. Following the drag marks, he made his way into the brush. 
He crouched down to look at the broken branches and trampled leaves. He 
wasn't much of a tracker, but even he could tell that something large 
had been hidden here for a time, but he had no idea what had happened to 
the person or thing that had been put there.

"Look at this," Sam said as she walked over to him and held out a jagged 
piece of glass. The edge was smeared with blood.

                         *******************

The Horus Guard raised his weapon, and once again Jack found himself on 
the wrong end of a staff weapon, doomed to live his nightmare over and 
over again, waiting for the energy blast that would close his eyes 
forever.

Jack had always appreciated irony. The subtle play of what should be 
against what was. He should have been dead a dozen times over, but he 
wasn't. He should have been dead on Abydos, bombed into oblivion by his 
own hand. He should have been retired, lonely and without purpose, 
spending his nights gazing at the stars. He could have been blind, but 
he wasn't. 

He could have warned Teal'c about the Jaffa, he could have drawn the 
fire to himself, he could have prevented Teal'c from getting hurt. But 
he didn't. He had frozen in fear, overwhelmed with images of flaming 
pain and darkness.

He could let it happen again, he could let himself be killed. 

But he wasn't going to.

The staff weapon fired just as Jack ducked and rolled away from the 
tree, coming up short at the end of his leash. The energy blast hit the 
tree and burned through wood and branches and rope, finally releasing 
Jack from his tether. 

Seizing upon his unexpected freedom, Jack rolled to his feet and ran for 
the trees at the edge of the clearing. Dra'Pak fired his staff weapon 
again, sending a searing bolt of energy into the trees where he thought 
Jack would be. But Jack was gone, fading into the deep shadows of the 
trees and moving quickly to his left.

Dra'Pak took another wary step into the clearing, eyes darting nervously 
around the clearing, trying to see where the Tau'ri had gone. He had to 
find him quickly, he couldn't let him get away and ruin all his plans. 
He tried to still his own harsh breathing, trying to listen for signs of 
the Tau'ri's movement through the trees. The very forces of nature 
seemed to be working against him, as the clouds gathered overhead to 
block the starlight and a fitful breeze swirled through the meadow, 
hiding the sounds he was trying so desperately to hear. He took another 
step towards the center of the little meadow.

Jack hugged the deep shadows under the trees, carefully making his way 
around the edge of the clearing. He ducked to avoid the low hanging 
branch he knew was there and stepped over the tangle of roots, 
remembering every inch of the route. He'd been blind the last time he'd 
done this, pacing around the clearing for hour after hour, waiting for 
Daniel to come back from Teosa. 

Oh yeah, he knew this place, all right. 

Jack stepped over the little creek and eased himself down to one knee, 
peering through the gloom towards the Jaffa. The warrior was standing 
almost in the center of the clearing, his staff weapon leveled, his head 
swiveling from side to side. Jack carefully put the grenade down close 
to his knee, then looked around until he found one of the stones he knew 
would be there. He ran the back of his hand across his eyes and blinked 
hard, trying to clear his vision. 

God, he hoped this would work.

As Jack watched, the man turned his head towards his hiding place and 
slowly brought his staff weapon around. It was now or never, and Jack 
always preferred now to never.

Taking a deep breath, he tossed the rock across the clearing to land 
close to the old fallen tree trunk. Startled, Dra'pak whipped around and 
fired his staff weapon at the tree.

Jack reached down for the grenade at his knee. His right arm a useless 
dead weight, he lifted the grenade to his mouth and removed the pin with 
his teeth. It had to be timed just right, it was his only chance - too 
soon and the grenade would bounce off the Jaffa's armor, exploding 
harmlessly too far away. Too late and it would explode before it even 
got to him. He held the grenade in his hand and took his thumb off the 
detonator.

One, one thousand.

Jack stood up and yelled at the Jaffa. 

Two, one thousand.

Startled and confused, Dra'pak turned around again just as Jack launched 
the grenade with a left-handed side-armed throw and watched it sail in 
slow motion towards its target. 

Three, one thousand.

Jack dropped to the ground and covered his head with his good arm.

                         *******************

Daniel swiveled around to look at Sam and nearly poked his eye out on a 
thick branch that stuck out of the brush. He grabbed it and pushed it 
out of his way, pausing as his hand slid along the unnaturally smooth 
surface. He stood and dragged the branch out with him, not at all 
surprised when it turned out to be a staff weapon.

"Okay, Sam. We have a staff weapon that may or may not be Teal'c's. We 
have blood and we have broken glass. Just what's going on here?"

Sam met Daniel's eyes with a worried look of her own. Before she could 
answer him, the night was torn with the booming thud of an explosion. 
The sound was diffused by the thick growth of trees, but she knew with 
sick, instinctive dread that it had to come from the clearing where they 
had hoped to find Jack and Teal'c. 

"Grenade!" Sam snapped out. She turned and sprinted up the trail, 
pulling her sidearm out of the holster as she ran.

Daniel followed, still carrying the staff weapon.

                         *******************

The grenade hit the Jaffa square in the chest and exploded in a blinding 
geyser of flame and shrapnel and blood and flesh and tiny pieces of dead 
Goa'uld.

The sound of the explosion lingered in the still night air, echoing off 
the trees, gradually fading away until the only sound Jack could hear 
was his own strangled breathing.

"Teal'c?" he called hoarsely. "Teal'c, are you there?" There was no 
answer.

Jack got shakily to his feet and stumbled across the clearing to find 
Teal'c, still lying where the renegade Jaffa had dropped him. Jack 
slipped to his knees and reached out to touch his friend's face. It was 
warm, and the pulse still beat in his neck. 

Jack rested his hand on Teal'c's chest and felt the rise and fall of his 
slow, even breathing. 

He closed his eyes and thought about sacrifice, and triumph. He thought 
about weakness and strength, and fear and courage. He thought about how 
much he owed to Corporal O'Reilly. He thought about how tired he was, 
and how much his arm hurt, and how he was going to have to explain all 
this to Janet and General Hammond.

Jack wiped his hand across his eyes and got slowly to his feet. He 
walked cautiously over to the dead body that used to be a Jaffa warrior. 
His chest had been torn away by the explosion, one arm mangled almost 
beyond recognition, his face permanently contorted halfway between anger 
and horror at his own fate. His staff weapon had somehow survived intact 
and now lay beside the body, just out of reach of his remaining hand.

Jack stood looking down at the mess, sickened at what he had done. A 
grenade explosion was a terrible way to die.

It was ugly and it was cruel, but the Jaffa was dead. 

And Teal'c and Jack were alive.

                         *******************

Sam and Daniel ran up the familiar path, trying to listen for more 
explosions or gunfire, hoping they wouldn't hear any. There was nothing, 
only their own running footsteps. They slowed as they approached the 
clearing and snapped off their lights, Sam motioning for Daniel to stay 
behind her. She stood in the shadow of the trees just outside the 
clearing, trying to see through the darkness. She found Teal'c, lying 
motionless on the ground only a few feet in front of her. Beyond that 
was another body out in the middle of the field, looking somehow mangled 
and incomplete, what looked like a staff weapon lying beside it. Her 
heart caught in her throat, until she realized the body was too large 
and bulky to be the Colonel.

"Colonel O'Neill?" she called softly.

"Carter?" The voice was faint and hoarse. "Is that you?"

His voice came from the end of the clearing, by the old fallen tree 
trunk. "Sir?" Sam took one cautious step out of the shadows, her gun 
held cocked and ready. "You okay?"

"Not exactly." He cleared his throat and choked back a cough. "Teal'c 
needs help."

Sam holstered her gun and walked further into the clearing, followed 
closely by Daniel. She stopped to lean over Teal'c and touched him 
lightly on his neck, feeling for a pulse. She sighed with relief to find 
it there, still strong and steady despite the massive raw wound on his 
shoulder. She flicked on her light and shone it on Teal'c while Daniel 
knelt down and took a closer look at the burn. His worried eyes met 
Sam's and he shook his head. Teal'c may have an infant larva to heal 
him, but this looked bad, and they needed to get him medical help as 
soon as possible. 

Sam walked over to the Colonel and played her light across his battered 
form. Jack was sitting on the ground, propped up against the newly 
charred tree trunk. He was surrounded by their packs, the contents 
strewn across the ground. He held a small knife in his hand, the 
attached chain dangling across his knee.

He flinched, dropping the knife to bring his hand up to shield his eyes. 
"Carter, get that out of my eyes!"

"Sorry, Sir." She turned the flashlight away as she knelt down by his 
side. Up close he looked exhausted, one side of his face bruised and 
swollen. He was holding his right arm carefully across his lap, and she 
could see a thin dark line that had to be blood trickling down across 
the dark welt that circled his neck. Looking down, she saw more welts 
around both wrists. She pawed through the loose contents of their packs, 
searching for one of the first aid kits. Finding one, she searched 
through the nearly empty kit, finally finding an unopened gauze pad. 

"What happened up here?"

"Had a little run-in with a leftover. He shot Teal'c, I broke my arm. 
He's dead now."

"Oh." Sam sat back on her heels. "Sir, we found the broken glass and the 
marks from someone being dragged off the trail. We heard the grenade 
explode. And what about this?" She took his chin in her hand and moved 
his face so she could get at the blood with the gauze pad. 

"Oh that. I did that to myself."

Sam just looked at him, waiting for a better explanation.

He shrugged. "He put a rope around my neck and tied me to the tree." He 
gestured vaguely at his broken arm. "I couldn't get it untied. When I 
tried to cut it off, the knife slipped." He pushed her hand away from 
his neck where she was still blotting away the blood from the wound. 
"How's Teal'c?"

Sam stood and pulled him up, taking silent note of the low groan of pain 
and the way he hunched over his arm as he moved. Teal'c wasn't the only 
one that needed medical attention.

Teal'c came to with a start, opening his eyes to find Daniel Jackson's 
face less than a foot away. He frowned, trying to remember where he was 
and what had happened to him. He tried to sit up, groaning as the effort 
awoke fresh pain in his injured shoulder. 

"Take it easy, Teal'c, you've been wounded," Daniel told him. He placed 
his hand on Teal'c's chest to keep him from trying to get up. "You've 
got a staff weapon burn on your shoulder. We're in the clearing up on 
the bluff." 

"I was attacked from behind," Teal'c said. He brushed Daniel's hand away 
from his chest and sat up, his face once more impassive, giving no hint 
of the pain he was feeling. With a sigh that recognized the futility of 
the fight, Daniel gave up and put his arm around Teal'c to help support 
him. 

"O'Neill! What happened to Colonel O'Neill?"

"Relax, Teal'c, I'm right here." Jack crouched down to look Teal'c in 
the eye. "You doing okay?"

"My symbiote works to heal me." Teal'c studied his friend, seeing the 
lines of pain etched into his face. There was blood on his neck, and his 
hand was swollen, his arm held awkwardly across O'Neill's chest. But 
there was something different about his eyes. "And you, my friend?"

Jack patted Teal'c's leg and grinned at him. "Just fine, my friend. 
We're both . . . just fine."

                         *******************

Somehow, Daniel and Sam got them back down the mountain, both Jack and 
Teal'c flatly refusing to wait for additional help from the Teosans. 

They knocked on Saskia's door just as dawn was breaking and she once 
more found herself ministering to the Tau'ri, and she couldn't help 
wondering how four people managed to find so much trouble for 
themselves. By now an old hand at staff weapon burns, she cleaned and 
dressed Teal'c's shoulder wound, covering it with her ice blue 'pava' 
ointment. She fussed over Jack's broken arm and wrapped it carefully and 
told him their Dr. Fraiser would have to set it in a few days. And when 
she was done he turned to Sam with a dramatic gesture and said with 
satisfaction, "Now *that's* the way to put a splint on it."

And just like old times, Sam didn't know whether to punch him out or 
give him a hug. And of course, did neither.

Saskia made them stay another day, but the day after that Dag brought 
four of his best men and gathered them up and put them on horses, and 
escorted them safely back to the Stargate.

                         *******************

Corporal O'Reilly sat in the corner of the commissary and watched the 
Colonel talking with the rest of SG-1. She'd heard he was looking for 
her, but so far no one had delivered any actual orders to report to him. 
That was fine with her, with any luck she'd be gone before they got 
around to it. She had a new assignment and would be leaving the Cheyenne 
Mountain complex early the next morning.

The Colonel sat back in his chair, one elbow draped over the back of the 
chair next to him, his hands raised in a broad gesture to illustrate his 
point. There was a pause, and his companions burst into laughter. The 
cast on his right arm didn't appear to slow him down any.

She'd seen him when he got back from that second trip to Gem, had even 
stopped by the Infirmary to check on him when she got back from her 
father's funeral. Dr. Fraiser told her he'd tangled with another one of 
the rebel Horus Guards and had almost ended up on the short end of the 
stick. The Doctor wasn't too happy with him, between ignoring her orders 
to take it easy and nearly getting himself killed and all, but O'Reilly 
had thought he looked more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. Like he'd 
gone through hell and back, and discovered something important along the 
way. But she always was given to flights of fancy, and it was probably 
just because he was full of Dr. Fraiser's sedative and was sound asleep.

She still couldn't believe how much he reminded her of Uncle Earl. 

She was only 12 when Earl Harper moved in with them. Her mom's older 
brother, Uncle Earl was a cop for 20 years and on the bomb squad for 10 
of those years. But then he came up against the bomb he couldn't defuse 
and the explosion cost him his eyesight and his job. He was single then, 
tall and handsome and brave and full of life. And she was a lonely 
little girl in a family of boys with her own crosses to bear. They'd 
sort of adopted each other, and had learned together how to cope with 
Uncle Earl's blindness.

O'Reilly raised her hand and absently traced the edge of the raised 
birthmark that covered her right cheek from eye to chin. Yes, she'd had 
her own cross to bear. But Uncle Earl didn't care what she looked like.

Colonel O'Neill had asked her if she ever got tired of being called 
Radar, and she'd told him there were a lot worse things to get called. A 
lot worse.

Her family had never known quite what to do with her. Sensitive to a 
fault, she'd been busy growing a chip on her shoulder and trying to 
prove she was just as tough as the next guy when Uncle Earl came to live 
with them. He had taught her it was okay to just be herself, and then 
told her she had to find out what being herself really meant.

Somewhere along the way, the Marines had offered a perfect solution to 
all that teenaged aggressiveness. She enlisted straight out of high 
school, and the Corps tested her and improved her and defined her.

She met Dr. Fraiser when she reported for duty at Cheyenne Mountain and 
had her first routine physical. By now she was used to the stares and 
the whispers, and was very good at fading into the background, 
deflecting questions and insults alike with a laugh and a joke. She 
still wasn't sure how the Doctor did it, but somehow she got her talking 
and she ended up telling her all about Uncle Earl, along with everything 
else of any importance in her life. 

He was married now with two kids, teaching Criminal Behavior at the 
University of Colorado and writing novels in his spare time. When Dr. 
Fraiser had first approached her about being the Colonel's aide, she'd 
figured it was her chance to finally pay back a little of what she owed 
her favorite uncle.

She'd done a good job with Colonel O'Neill, if she did say so herself.

He was a pain in the butt, her Colonel. He was stubborn and arrogant, 
and all too willing to use that acid tongue on whoever happened to be in 
the vicinity. He was also smart and funny and surprisingly kind. He made 
her laugh.

She'd been hard on him and expected a lot of him, because she knew he 
could do it. She'd yelled at him and coaxed him and made fun of him, and 
shared his satisfaction each time he got it right. She'd seen him at his 
worst, and at his best. She was so proud of him she could hardly stand 
it.

She wondered what it would be like to meet him again and talk to him. 
Hear for herself how he was doing. Maybe even share a joke with him. She 
could tell him the story making the rounds about the Jaffa, the Tok'ra 
and the Nox.

What did he really want from her, anyway? 

Looking back at it, she could probably be court martialed for the way 
she had treated him, and sometimes she wondered if that's all he wanted. 
What would he say? Thanks, Corporal, for treating me like scum? Sorry, 
Corporal, you overstepped the line and I'm putting a black mark in your 
record?

The whole thing just made her queasy. 

Nope, she was just a corporal and he was a colonel, and now that life 
was back to normal it just wasn't right to think of how for a while, it 
had been the other way around. 

Besides, he'd probably already heard the joke anyway.

And she didn't think she could stand to see his face, when he looked at 
her and saw what she saw in the mirror every morning. Foolish of her, 
she knew, but maybe she hadn't outgrown all her insecurities after all.

With any luck, she could stay out of his way until she got out of here 
tomorrow. 

No, it was much better this way.

She would miss his jokes, though.

Corporal O'Reilly got up and carried her tray to the return window at 
the kitchen. As she passed the table where Colonel O'Neill sat, he 
glanced up and surprised the young woman looking at him. She covered 
quickly, letting her eyes slide past him as if she hadn't been looking 
at all. As she walked out the door, Jack abruptly stood and hurried 
after her.

She was just turning the corner at the end of the corridor when he left 
the Commissary. 

"Corporal O'Reilly!"

The young woman hunched her shoulders and slowly turned around. She was 
short and compact, sturdily built, and looked incredibly young. While he 
watched she drew herself up, shoulders back and chin up. Still half 
turned around the corner, her face was in shadows but her eyes were 
serious. She looked like she was facing a firing squad. 

Jack's smile faded as he watched, wondering if he'd made a mistake after 
all. He'd been so sure, back in the Commisary, when he looked up and saw 
her watching him. When she walked by his table he was positive she was 
his Corporal, he could have sworn he recognized the pattern of her 
footsteps and the scent she always wore.

But this young woman - she was all business. No sign of the irreverent 
attitude, no hint of the wicked appreciation for the ridiculous. The 
totally inappropriate and much appreciated disregard for authority.

The woman snapped a regulation salute at him and held it for a beat. His 
hand lifted in automatic response when she grinned and swept her hand 
out in a thumb's up gesture, and disappeared around the corner. 

Jack grinned and choked back a snort of laughter. He started to follow 
after her, ready to call her name and order her to stop if he had to.

"Colonel O'Neill!"

Jack stopped and reluctantly turned around. It was Janet, hurrying after 
him through the corridor outside the commissary. Damn, he should have 
been faster, he was so close to avoiding her completely.

"I'm sorry, Doc, I forgot!" He shrugged and held out his hands, grinning 
crookedly and looking as much like a little boy playing hooky as he 
could manage. "Can't we just reschedule the tests for tomorrow?"

Janet made a face at him. "No tests this time, Colonel." She studied his 
face. "I just wanted to know how you're feeling."

Abruptly serious, Jack considered his answer, wondering what would 
happen if he told her how he really felt. 

He looked at her, absently rubbing his wrist where the edge of the 
fiberglass cast rested against the skin. You just couldn't trust 
doctors. They took care of you and made you well, made you think they 
cared, made you trust them. Made you tell them things that should never 
be remembered, all in the name of healing. And then they betrayed you, 
they told the suits and the brass everything you said, and then they ran 
test after test after test on you until you thought you'd scream.

Doctors were fine, as long as they minded their own business. And Janet, 
no matter how much she cared, no matter how much a friend, was still a 
doctor.

His eyesight had returned and his vision was totally restored, confirmed 
by the latest round of Dr. Murken's tests. All his bruises were gone, 
the knife wound long since healed. The cast on his right arm was due to 
come off in another week and his knee had been therapied and exercised 
back to full strength.

Should he tell her about the aftershock he'd had two nights ago, the one 
that had come out of nowhere just as he stepped out on his deck to watch 
the sunset? What would she say if he told her how he still woke up at 
night thinking he was blind and had to turn the light on just to make 
sure he was wrong? Should he tell her how he got the shakes sometimes, 
thinking how he almost killed Teal'c because all he could think about 
was saving his own skin, and worrying what he'd do next time it 
happened?

He could tell her why he was late this morning, that he just had to stop 
and watch the sunrise first. That he took the stairs to the Commissary 
today just because he could. 

Or maybe he should tell her that he really needed to find the little 
Corporal and tell her how much he owed her, and he lost his chance 
because the doc just had to stop him and ask him about his feelings.

But in the long run, so what? What difference did it make? All that 
stuff -- it just didn't matter. Because he was still alive and kicking, 
and he still had his team, and he still had a job to do. The Goa'uld 
weren't going to take a break just because one beat-up old Colonel was 
having nightmares, or wanted to watch the sunrise, or because a doctor 
thought he needed to get in touch with his feelings again. 

He'd live through it. He always did.

Jack thought about it, and sorted through all his possible responses, 
and finally settled on the truth. 

He looked her in the eye and smiled that warm melting smile that lit up 
his face and softened his eyes and took ten years off his age.

"I'm fine, Doc. Couldn't be better."

~~~fin~~~