CHAPTER 1
He laid still, extreme pain and a burning sensation waking him from a coma-like sleep. Tall trees above him swayed with the wind and the light of the planet's sun filtered brightly through the tree tops, temporarily blinding him. He was alone . . . unable to remember how he got to where he was. Shrubbery surrounded him, protecting him from being seen.
Colonel O'Neill moved gingerly to sit up on his elbows, quietly groaning in painful agony. His P90 lay within his reach. Slowly panning to the right and left to observe his surroundings, no other signs of life were seen nor was there evidence of any skirmish. He glanced at his watch . . . the time displayed was 1300 hours. The day of the week displayed was Thursday. Wait a minute! It's Wednesday, isn't it? His mind was a little fuzzy now. And his head hurt; oh, how it hurt!
There were no responses from his radio call to the rest of the team. His memory was correct of being with his team, wasn't it? But where were they? So much for no man being left behind! Something was screwy and just not right about this scenario.
He looked down to the direction of his pain locating it on the right side of his torso under the ribs. A large blood stain from the open wound and a hole in his shirt with burned edges revealed the origin of his agony. His emergency mode slowly kicked into action. A military 3-day pack was lying about two yards from where he was wounded. In it were basic medical emergency supplies along with necessary provisions. He made a successful, though painful, crawl to the backpack, retrieved the emergency kit, and managed to bandage the wound. "Hmm, looks like a staff wound. Where is a sarcophagus when you need one?" he muttered to himself.
He positioned the backpack to rest upon. A medium sized rock was seen at the place where he woke up. He felt the back of his head and saw blood on his hand. Oh great, another head injury to add to the list of many. His vision was fine, but the incessant throbbing was making him nauseous. Oh, god. Here it comes! He hurled, emptying his stomach.
Resting against the backpack, he laid the P90 on his chest under his left arm. Damn this wound! Why couldn't it have been on the left side? He wasn't ambidextrous so he'd have to rely on his left hand. He positioned his left index finger on the trigger, just in case. The pain meds were kicking in. He would eventually come up with a plan to find his team, but right now a nap . . .
Several hours passed. He finally awoke to find that the planet's sun was beginning to set. Two huge, honkin' moons were now visible. He thought and made the decision to leave his temporary rest area as soon as darkness fell. The moons would provide ample illumination as he journeyed through the forest. "There's got to be a 'gate somewhere!" he said in frustration as he stood up.
He heaved the pack on his back, cringing at and cursing the pain. Despite the pain meds, his head and side still hurt. Damn!
There was no discernable wooded path seen, so he decided to follow the horizon of the mountain range to his right. Surely there would be a stream or river somewhere in the area of the valley.
A couple of hours passed and the journey was slow-going. Suddenly, a campfire was seen blazing, illuminating square-shaped huts surrounding it.
O'Neill knelt behind the trunk of a tree and set the pack down beside him. He reached in a side pocket, pulled out his night vision binoculars and focused the lenses. No signs of movement could be seen. The campers must be inside the huts he reasoned. He continued to observe the site for any movements. Thank god his headache was less painful now which made it easier to be mentally focused.
For what seemed like an eternity, movement of something was seen coming from one of the huts. It looked like a huge bear. What the hell?
Walking upright, it passed the campfire which illuminated its colorful fur—long strands of pink, light blue, yellow, and white—and it walked into another hut disappearing through its entrance. "I know I've been on strong pain meds, but colorful fur?" He lowered the binoculars to look around at the trees and shrubbery to adapt his eyes to the moons' light to see if anything else displayed differing colors. Finding no anomalies, he raised the binoculars to his eyes and continued to observe the campsite. He shook his head and mumbled, "Whew! Then I'm not hallucinating!"
Half an hour later more of the rotund furry and colorful creatures came into view. He watched as they sat around the campfire, the blaze now reduced to small flames. They were communicating to each other in whiny chirping tones.
Not knowing whether they would be friend or foe made him uneasy. He decided to camp for the night and to explore more in the morning.
Early the next morning, he sensed a shadow falling across him. He opened his eyes and looked up to find three rotund furry and colorful creatures standing around him. He gulped and didn't move. One of the furry and colorful creatures motioned for him to follow. His first inclination was to respond with an emphatic No, don't think so! But there was something about these creatures that made him slowly reduce his defenses. "Oh, what the hell. No staff weapons or star-shaped explosives. This could be interesting!" he said to himself as he stood up.
There was no way of determining their gender. They all looked the same to him, each one standing about four feet in height. In fact, they were cute in an alien sort of way. They had large brown eyes and flat black noses. Their round ears moved to and fro when O'Neill spoke. One of the creatures lifted his pack. O'Neill reached for it indicating that it belonged to him, but the creature pointed to the area of his wound and shook his head indicating "No.""Okay,"he responded as he stepped back. "Now how do you suppose he knew I was injured?" the puzzled colonel asked himself.
He followed them with ease. The creatures communicated amongst themselves. He came to the conclusion that the only way he'd be able to communicate with them would be through some sort of sign language. The hand, or paw, signal for Follow me was easy enough to understand.
Other furry and colorful creatures, all looking the same as the three that found O'Neill, waited at the edge of the campsite for their arrival. The whiny chirping began in earnest and became louder. It appeared they were excited at the discovery of this strange creature. Don't they have enough company? Little ole' me shouldn't make that much of an impact!
All the campers gathered around O'Neill, their whiny chirping now in whispers. They observed him with kind eyes and didn't touch him. He was feeling a bit self-conscious about their interest, but a few moments later they slowly dispersed, one motioning him to follow. "Hmm, he must be the leader of the pack."
O'Neill followed the leader of the pack into the first hut on his right. When he entered, he saw two small furry and colorful creatures of the same description, but one with a pink nose and one with a black nose, sitting next to a larger furry and colorful creature with a pink nose. He smiled at them and said, mostly to himself, "Must be the wife and kids."
The leader of the pack set down O'Neill's backpack next to a bedding of leaves and motioned him to sit. He obliged and slowly sat down, holding his side and wincing. The "wife" looked at him with empathy, sensing his pain. The leader of the pack pointed his paw to the site of the injury apparently wanting to see it. O'Neill waved him off indicating there was no need. His whiny chirping began and he pointed with more vigor which O'Neill translated as "Let me see your injury." He raised his black t-shirt revealing the bandages. The whiny chirping stopped and the leader of the pack grunted. He walked to the other side of the hut and returned with a small round object with an attached strap that fit comfortably around his paw. "Whoa! Wait a minute! You're not going to use that thing on me!" O'Neill yelled as he quickly stood up and stepped away. The shape of the object looked just like a one of those Gao'uld mind altering things. The leader of the pack gently pulled O'Neill's arm to indicate for him to sit down. He held the Gao'uld looking thing just above O'Neill's wound and in a few seconds a warm, soothing white light emerged from the object onto the wound and healed it within a few seconds.
O'Neill looked down at the now non-existent wound in amazement, touching his skin to validate that what he witnessed wasn't an illusion. He looked up at the leader of the pack, smiled and gave a short nod in appreciation. The leader of the pack briefly closed his eyes, nodded, and walked back to return the object to its storage place. Carter needs to see that! A hand held sarcophagus!
Now that he was healed, he had to come up with some way to communicate to the furry and colorful creatures to ask if they saw or heard anything that might give him clues as to what happened to his team. He imagined all sorts of scenarios; Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c in some godforsaken alien hard labor camp in another galaxy or taken to a Gao'uld ship for a snake insertion ceremony or worse. He shivered thinking of the dire possibilities.
The "wife" having watched the healing event presented O'Neill with food. He wasn't crazy about eating the strange looking foodstuff, but considered it may gain their trust and hopefully their help. The two small furry and colorful creatures looked on in wide-eyed wonder.
He bit into a round shaped food that looked like a spiky tomato. Surprisingly, it tasted good. It was beefy in texture and a little sweet. There was an assortment of other colorful food on the wooden plate. Feeling no ill effects from the "spiky tomato," he tried each of the other foods, surprised at each flavorful bite.
The "wife" took the empty wooden plate from O'Neill and walked to what appeared to be a small kitchen. The two small furry and colorful creatures padded behind her, following her closely.
He looked upon the "wife and kids" and smiled. It was evident they were peaceful and socially adept beings. The leader of the pack was quietly sitting adjacent to him having observed him as he ate.
O'Neill turned to the leader of the pack, raised his eyebrows and smiled. Damn, communication is going to be a bear! he thought to himself, amused by his pun.
He studied the contents of the hut and noticed on the inside walls hieroglyphic-type drawings. He stood up and walked to one wall and thought, Daniel would love this! His own untrained interpretation of the symbols was that they reflected the society of the furry and colorful creatures; their dwellings, the creatures themselves, and . . . Gao'ulds? He stepped in for a closer look. Yep, those are Gao'ulds alright. The drawings revealed eyes that were white, symbolizing glowing eyes, on human forms. He turned to find the leader of the pack standing directly behind him. The look in his eyes reflected sadness. It was apparent this drawing was a story, a sad story of the destruction of their peaceful existence at some point in time.
O'Neill racked his brain to come up with some type of hand signal to indicate a battle or war. He pointed to his side where the wound was and then to the drawings. The leader of the pack responded with a low cry, then a whiny chirping tone. "Okay, now we're getting somewhere!"
The leader of the pack pointed to his ears. Then he pointed to the drawing of a moon. "Okay, moon . . . comes out at night. Ears are for hearing." He must have heard something at night, the night before?
The colonel made further attempts to communicate. He walked to the entrance of the hut and motioned for the leader of the pack to follow. They both stepped outside. O'Neill pointed to the ears of the leader of the pack and then to the wooded forest. The leader of the pack harrumphed and got excited. He bent his legs at the knees and moved up and down indicating that he understood O'Neill's signs. His whiny chirping tone was low and rapid—Translation: "I heard a noise in the woods." The leader of the pack was getting louder—Translation: "There was screaming." He then made a sound like an explosion. "Okay. There was shooting!" O'Neill surmised.
He was getting excited himself. He knew he had to come up with a signal that would indicate that there may have been a lot of individuals seen in the forest. He found a stick on the ground and began to draw human forms as best he could, lots of them. The leader of the pack bent his legs at the knees again and moved up and down in rapid succession. "Okay, a lot of individuals," he said as he waved his arms about. He looked around for something white to represent the eyes of the human-like drawings and found some white pebbles. He placed them on his drawings. The leader of the pack began to make low mournful noises.
O'Neill wondered which faction of the Gao'uld he had seen, but it was enough to know the Gao'uld had been in the forest and had taken his team. The only thing he couldn't figure was why was he left alone?