Colonel O'Neill is arguing fiercely with the General. And for once I agree with him whole heartedly, no reservations. Teal'c and Jonas had been captured by some minor Goa'uld on PX4 329. The Tokra had reported that they were being held on board a ha'tak. The Tokra agent that was undercover on said ha'tak had reported that the Goa'uld would be off the ship for the next forty-eight hours, taking the bulk of his Jaffa with him.
The General, not surprisingly, felt it was a suicide mission. The Colonel knew that, too. But, like me, he didn't care. The Colonel hated and mistrusted the Tokra. It still didn't matter. We were going.
That was twenty-four hours ago…
"MajorCarter!"
Huh? What?
"MajorCarter!"
"Teal'c?"
"MajorCarter, you must awaken."
"Why?" I slurred. I really didn't want to wake up. Wait a minute – not thinking clearly… uh oh.
"MajorCarter, Wake up!"
Teal'c is doing his impersonation of the Colonel. The command tone is impossible to resist. My eyes pop open of their own accord: Ceiling. Gold-toned, engraved ceiling. Mother-ship… "Teal'c?"
"Colonel O'Neill is in need of your assistance."
Why does he do that? Why is MajorCarter one word, and Colonel O'Neill two? I never… wait… "What?"
"Colonel O'Neill is wounded and is in need of your assistance."
Oh. Crap. If Teal'c is talking like that, it must be bad. Move. I launch myself to my feet. Or try to - not so easy. I try different parts of my body, eliminating the parts that don't work. 'What do we have? What do we need?' the Colonel's voice echoes through my head. Okay, staff weapon grazed left shoulder, followed by zat. Nasty, but doable.
I roll over and drag myself with my good arm over to the Colonel. In the process I learn why Teal'c is yelling at me instead of tending to the Colonel himself and why Jonas hasn't said anything at all. They are both still chained firmly to the wall, and Jonas is completely out, hanging like a rag doll. Why I missed being chained, I have no idea – Jaffa don't consider women much of a threat? I'll show them who's a threat.
I can just make out the Colonel, from my vantage point he's lying behind a pile of debris. He's next to the closed door.
My memory flashes a picture of that door open and a fire fight. We were trying to rescue Teal'c and Jonas. We had been assured by the Tok'ra that their cell would be relatively unguarded. The Colonel never believed it, and he was right. As soon as we had managed to open the door they had sprung their trap. We were surrounded by over twice the number of Jaffa that even his paranoid suspicions had predicted. Teal'c and Jonas had been bait, and it had worked.
The door – that had been our battle line. The Colonel had held that door as I had tried to reach Teal'c and Jonas. But then I was hit by the staff blast. Still, I had almost reached their position when I heard the Colonel shout a warning. Then there was nothing.
"Colonel?" I'm close enough now to see him better. He looks very peaceful lying unconscious on his back. The words 'dang, he's handsome' once again flash through my head before I can squelch them. Just one more piece of junk to navigate…
"Nooo…" My whisper escapes. My heart fills with dread. His face is peaceful. One arm is lying, seemingly comfortably, across his chest. The other is flung out toward his P-90. Everywhere else is covered in blood. His chest, abdomen, and leg are a mass of red and black; the results of multiple staff wounds. He's not moving. I look closer, afraid of what I'll find. He's not breathing. My eyes are drawn against my will to his wounds. He's not bleeding anymore. No, it can't be. It can't! I reach out my hand to his throat. His skin is cool. I search, for even the slightest flutter…
"MajorCarter?"
I can't respond.
I can't speak.
Can't move.
Can't feel.
This can't be. We're charmed, invincible. I realize for the first time how deeply I believed that. I believed the Colonel's unspoken pledge to us: I will always get you home.
Not anymore.