Tolbena
By
Jennaya
A/N: I wrote this a few years ago, but never published it here. It's been updated. Hope you enjoy it.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. All original characters and scenarios are copyright to the author.
The SGC
General Hammond stood watching the Gateroom from the observation window in the briefing room. SG-11, the last unit out, was returning from a normal exploratory mission to an unoccupied world. Normal, he laughed to himself; he didn't even know what normal was anymore. The commanding officer of the SGC had ordered all units recalled from the field as a precaution. And hopefully, he prayed, for a chance at a rescue mission.
Hammond's mind wondered for a moment, he'd seen many changes in his teams over the years. New teams had been created, individual members or entire teams replaced as people were promoted, reassigned, or killed in the line of duty. Only one original team created seven years ago, consisted of the same people today as it did that day he sent them out on their first mission together. The irreverent Colonel Jack O'Neill, whose trademark was to never leave a man behind. Major Samantha Carter, the brilliant scientist, who'd saved the SGC more times than Hammond could count. Dr. Daniel Jackson, the archeologist and skilled linguist. And the alien Jaffa, Teal'c, who no longer carried a symbiote. They were his first and best team, SG-1.
As Hammond took a drink of his coffee as an unpleasant thought flashed through his mind. All good things must come to an end, and he feared this just might be the end of SG-1. Everything Hammond had witnessed in that room and this place over the years had not prepared him for last 48 hours. Half of SG-1 was in the infirmary fighting for their lives, and the other half he had no way of reaching or helping. If they were even still alive, Hammond knew O'Neill would do everything humanly possible, and then some, to get the rest of his team home.
As Hammond walked to his office, his thoughts wondered back to two days ago. Maybe, if he'd been a little more superstitious himself, they wouldn't be in this mess.
"Nope, don't want it, not taking my team there," Major Griff said shaking his head no.
"What do you mean Major?" Hammond asked.
"General, it's just not a good sign, the name of this planet. Come on," the Major started, then he looked up and over the briefing room conference table, meeting the General's eyes quickly adding, "sir."
"The computer assigns a name based on algorithmic calculations, using the number of moons with their orbital pattern, the planets distance from its star, the planets typing, and distance from Earth. The name is based purely on mathematical calculations," Major Carter argued. She was sitting across the table from Major Russell Griff and next to Colonel Jack O'Neill. She couldn't believe they were having this conversation. Everyone knew Griff was superstitious, but this was ridiculous.
"You want me to take my team out on Friday the 13th, to P13X666? What's with the 13 anyway, most planets only have one number between the P and the X?" Griff asked curious.
"The planet has three moons in one elliptical orbit. Granted, it's unusual for all the moons to be in the same orbital path, but that doesn't mean the planet's cursed," Cater answered.
Hammond sat quietly at the head of the table, watching the interplay between his officers. Something was going on with the Colonel, he observed. O'Neill was flipping through his briefing folder, a look of aversion on his face, taking his time before joining the conversation.
"That's not it, Carter. Griff saw the pictures the MALP sent back from P4X892," O'Neill said closing his folder.
"Sir?" Carter was confused.
Hammond observed quietly; his 2IC was up to something.
"The beach planet with the indigenous life…engaging in recreational activities," O'Neil winked at Griff; he understood why he preferred that planet. "We'll take it, sir. Once you've seen one beach planet, you've seen 'em all, besides P13X666 has nice 'trees'." O'Neill made a face as he said trees. Not particularly fond of planets with lots of trees around the Stargate, O'Neill always managed some sarcastic comment about them. He looked over at Hammond, and then exchanged folders with Griff across the table.
"Oh, that's the planet with the naked women in the lagoon and lounging on the beach. I should have known that the MALP's first pictures of that planet would have made it around the base." Carter shook her head and rolled her eyes at them, mumbling under her breath 'men'. She was totally unaware of the exchange between her Colonel and their commanding officer.
"Very well, you have your assignments for a standard six-hour recon. You leave at 1000 hours, Colonel. Major, have your team ready to embark at 1100 hours. Dismissed. Colonel, my office please," Hammond stood and returned to his office.
"Think you can get past the area around the Stargate in six hours?" O'Neill quipped as they picked up their paperwork off the table.
"I don't know. It depends on how many indigenous life forms are on the beach," Griff smirked as he left the room.
"You owe me!" O'Neill yelled after him. Major Griff didn't turn around, but instead raised his folder over his head as if to say 'yeah, sure, you got it', and then continued down the stairs.
O'Neill watched Carter leave the briefing room mumbling before walking into Hammond's office. Although he would never tell her, he wasn't comfortable taking her to that planet. A planet where the women wore nothing, at least on the beach, but the men wore clothing. He couldn't be sure this was their normal lifestyle, and didn't want to take the risk.
Hammond acknowledged the same concern, and agreed switching the assignments around was best. Until they knew more about the local culture, he wouldn't send any woman to that planet, although Hammond wouldn't mind going himself.
General Hammond watched SG-1's departure exactly 1000 hours. He signed some paperwork handed to him in the control room, and then headed back upstairs to his office. Just as he made it to the top of the stairs, the Chevrons glowed and an incoming wormhole was established. Hammond rushed back down the stairs; no one was due back for at least 3 hours. Unscheduled off world activation was announced over the PA system as the Iris closed and the defense teams ran into the Gateroom. Major Griff walked into the control room standing next to Hammond waiting to see what was happening.
"Receiving IDC, it's…SG-1, sir," the technician on duty, SSG Davis, stated with concern and confusion in his voice.
"What? They just went through. Open the Iris and have a medical team stand by," Hammond ordered. He and Griff shared a knowing look, this was bad. They watched as the defense team ran into the Gateroom taking their positions. When the Iris opened, everyone took a deep breath bracing for the worst. A team returning after only five minutes was for a couple of reasons, either they were under fire, someone was injured or both. The Iris was open for almost fifteen seconds before anything happened. Then with a force Hammond had never seen before, Teal'c was propelled through the gate landing 2/3 the way down the ramp.
A loud voice, like someone using a microphone yelled. "NO GOA'ULD OR JAFFA ALLOWED ON OUR PLANET!" The voice came out of the Stargate somehow, but it wasn't a radio transmission. The Stargate shut down, reactivated, and then shut down again all in the space of a couple of minutes with Teal'c being the only person who'd came through it.
Hammond ordered the medical team to get Teal'c off the ramp quickly. They needed to redial, and find out where the rest of SG-1 was.
Every attempt to redial P13X666 was unsuccessful. The seven Chevrons glowed but the wormhole refused to engage. There was nothing wrong with the dialing computer; they could create outgoing wormholes to any other Stargate. Something or someone was preventing them from establishing a wormhole to P13X666. Major Griff never made it to the beach planet that day. He wanted the rescue mission when a wormhole was finally established.
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