Authors Notes: This is the first story I've ever submitted anywhere, so please be kind! This is only the beginning, but eventually you'll get the whole story via flashbacks. By the way, this is set sometime in season 5. Enjoy!

I don't own SG-1 or its characters!


"I knew this day was gonna suck when I woke up." I state as the door to our brand new dungeon away from home slams shut. I sigh. "I knew I should have called in sick."

The rest of SG-1 ignores me as they lean against and then slide down the walls to sit on the dungeon's stone floor. Daniel sends me a dirty look as he gingerly sits with his leg stretched straight in front of him. I wince at the hostility I see there, knowing I deserve it. I glance over at Carter and Teal'c, not surprised to find them determinedly ignoring my gaze. I can tell from the pair that if we ever get off this god-forsaken planet and back to Earth, there will be some serious ass kissing to make this fubared mission up to them.

Carter leans towards Daniel, who is trying to get some rest and is leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes closed. "How's the ankle?" She asks quietly, concern shining in her eyes for her science twin brother. Daniel's eyes snap open and he stares at her for a long minute, his face giving no indication to his thoughts.

"It's fine." He finally says, careful not to meet her eyes as he does so. Big surprise. Daniel wouldn't admit to being in pain even if he were tortured. Bad example. Sighing again, I dig around in my BDU pockets and eventually pull out a little plastic packet of Tylenol. Guess the bastards didn't clean out all my pockets after all.

"Daniel."

He looks at me, with one of those hard accusing gazes of his that makes you feel like you deserve to be thrown off a cliff. The fact that I actually do deserve to be thrown off a cliff is beyond the point. I hold up the Tylenol packet and then toss it to him. "You better take those. It'll make it easier to escape when the cavalry comes." At least by now, we're late and Hammond will be sending a search team soon. Of course, we wouldn't need to be rescued if I had done my job and listened to Daniel.

Daniel stares at the little packet in his hand before he pockets it. As I open my mouth to argue with this decision, he shrugs. "The S and R team won't have been sent yet." I furrow my brow at this. The bastards did steal our watches; I don't see how he can tell how much time has passed. Feels like hours to me. "It hasn't been long enough." He continues. "If I take them now, they'll wear off before we get out of this dump." Fair point. I'm thinking there's something wrong with me, my judgment is way off today.

"Kay." I finally reply to Daniel's quite correct logic. "Try to get some sleep at least." He rolls his eyes and then closes them, recrossing him arms across his chest. I wince as he tries to cross his legs but flinches when his left ankle crosses over his right. I'm definitely going to be feeling guilty for a long time.

I feel Teal'c and Carter's expectant gazes on me, and turn to stare them down, knowing that they are blaming my bad judgment. "We'll get out of this." I say. I can't decide whether it's to convince them or me.


When SG-1 misses their contact times on a routine mission, the first conclusion that we ever come to is that they've once again gotten themselves into trouble. Sadly, that conclusion is also correct more often than not. I really wish it weren't.

In three minutes, Sergeant Harriman will be calling to tell me that SG-1 is exactly three hours late for their scheduled contact. I've been watching the clock since that first minute passed, and the Stargate never gave a squeak. The duty roster is sitting on my desk, I've already decided that if SG-1 doesn't respond when we dial in, Colonel Feretti and SG-2 will be heading up the search and rescue team. I'll probably send in the SG-9 marines as extra back up too. Heaven knows, if SG-1 wasn't able to get out whatever's happened to them, they'll probably need the extra support.

Right on the dot, the red phone on my desk rings, and I pick up the receiver, knowing what the voice on the other end is going to tell me. I've heard the words too many times before.

Sure enough, Sergeant Harriman's voice comes through the line, speaking the words that are said far too often about SG-1. "General Hammond sir, SG-1 is officially three hours overdue for their scheduled contact time."

I nod, even though I know the sergeant can't see me from down in the control room. 'Establish a wormhole and prepare a UAV for launch." I order, as per standard procedure when an off-world team hasn't made contact.

"Yes sir." Comes Harriman's reply, followed by the sound of a receiver being placed on a hook. I replace my own receiver and stand. I glance once again at the duty roster on my desk. It's Good thing that SG units 2 and 9 are both on planet today. Somehow, I think they'll be needed.

I leave my office and step quickly down the stairs into the Stargate control room, into a flurry of activity both familiar and dreadful. Sergeant Harriman is dialing the Stargate to P4R-987, the planet of SG-1's current mission. Every ten seconds or so he calls out to the scientists in the embarkation below us that another chevron on the gate has locked in place. The scientists themselves are running last minute checks on the UAV, set to be launched if SG-1 doesn't respond to radio contact. Harriman call's out the words "Chevron seven locked!" just as the scientists finish their check of the UAV and begin to clear the room. Seconds later, the blue event horizon of the wormhole forms and a vortex explodes outwards into the room before settling like water over the open mouth of the gate.

I key on a microphone and open a radio channel via the MALP that was sent to P4R-987 ahead of SG-1. "SG-1, come in. Colonel O'Neill, do you read?"

There is only silence to be heard, both inside the control room and over the radio. I ignore the feeling of dread growing in the back of my mind and once again hail my missing team. "SG-1, this is the SGC. Do you read us?" We wait again, but once again hear no response.

"Pull up the MALP." I order Harriman, who immediately begins typing away on his keyboard. I know he is as worried about SG-1 as I am, he is one of the few people who has been here since the SGC became a reality and has seen SG-1 work their way out of every situation you could and couldn't imagine. After a few seconds of typing commands, a video feed appears on the monitors throughout the room. We can see the Stargate, DHD and the large field surrounding the gate, but there is no sign of SG-1. The area surrounding the Stargate is completely devoid of sentient life.

I repress a sigh. "Launch the UAV." I order. This is going to be a long night.