Chapter 2
Jack O'Neill made his way into the woods, walking carefully as he scouted out the immediate area beyond the clearing. He had no idea where they were, or what to expect in the environment they landed in, but he was determined to make sure they survived until the rescue ships arrived, or Carter fixed the ship, whichever came first. He was sure they would get out of this, he just didn't know when or how. In the meantime, their protection relied on their combined efforts, which was why he was out here setting up the perimeter. He knew from experience that aliens and predators would do whatever it took to get what they wanted. Jack was going to make sure they didn't get through.
He walked through the woods, his feet barely making a sound as he checked everything out. He wondered how long it would take for General Hammond to figure out something had gone wrong. They had been in communication with the SGC before they crashed landed, but even Jack knew that locating the ship based on a general assumption of where they last transmitted was like finding a needle in a haystack. Still, he had faith in Carter and her abilities to fix almost anything. It was a lot better than being stranded on a planet with only a buried Stargate and DHD.
He brought his thoughts back to his immediate concerns, getting the lay of the land and noting landmarks. Trees were plentiful, which meant they had fuel for fires to keep them warm if it came to that. And a lot of greenery meant a water source nearby, which was his current destination as he made his assessments.
He found the river less than a mile away. The water was clear, with the sun glinting off of the surface, and Jack could just picture himself with a fishing pole in his hand, whiling away the hours as Carter worked on fixing the engine.
If only, he thought with a sigh
He made another sweeping pass through the area then decided to head back to see if his help was needed. Anything was better than the thoughts of sabotage that moved in. Better to wait until he found out who was responsible before making plans on how to kill him, or her, as the case may be.
He got back to the ship to find Carter sitting with Bolton, a washrag in her hand, stroking his hair and forehead. At least Bolton was being taken care of, he thought, as he walked over and sat down next to his friend. The man was pale and Jack worried that maybe he was going to die, which was not something he really wanted to think about. Even though he and Bolton carried the same rank, Jack was still in charge of this mission and he hated when someone in his responsibility died.
"I'm worried about Colonel Bolton," Carter said, as she sponged his forehead with the rag. "He needs a doctor."
Jack nodded. That much was obvious. How to save the man was a whole different story.
"Did you find anything?" Carter asked.
"Trees and a river." He shrugged as he turned to look at her. "Not much else."
It was her turn to nod. They sat in silence while Jack worried about them all. They were stranded and things were looking pretty dire for them at the moment. A dead Tel'tak, a dying team member and a distinct feeling of doom hanging over the whole mess... Jack didn't know if he'd ever be able to keep up the pretense that everything was peachy.
"I checked the crystals stored in the reserves," Carter said. She didn't even look at Jack as she talked, a fact that worried him. The news must be pretty bad. "There are no replacements for the ones that blew." She was now looking down at her hands, while Jack felt like he had been kicked in the gut. His instincts had been right. Really bad news.
Still, he had to try. "What about using a different one?" He was not ready to admit defeat. There had to be something else.
But Carter shook her head as she turned to face him. "Crossed wires," was all she said.
Okay, he thought. "We can't just give up. What about…?"
"Oh, I'm not planning to give up," she said with a great deal of conviction. "I'll keep trying sir. I just... I wanted to make sure you understood that we won't be up and running before you know it." Her expression belied the sarcasm he thought he heard in her words and she gave him a small smile before saying, "I'm going to need some time."
Jack stared at her for a moment, wondering how long "some time" was going to be. The defeat in her eyes seemed to indicate never, yet she did say she was going to keep trying,which told him there was some hope. If anybody could fix that thing, it was Carter.
"I'm more worried about Colonel Bolton though," Carter said again. Jack turned toward his friend on the makeshift bed and found that he had to agree with Carter. Bolton's face was pale, almost gray and the bandage wrapped around his wound was stained with fresh blood. He looked back at Carter, suddenly understanding the defeat he saw in her eyes. She knew as well as he did that Bolton was dying.
Carter went back to wiping the rag across Bolton's forehead, while Jack struggled to find something to say. He finally decided on taking an officer's stance on the whole thing, knowing Carter would understand. "We'll concentrate on Bolton until..." He stopped that thought, then diverted to safer territory. "We have shelter and rations, and we're as secure as we're ever going to be in this place for now. Fixing those crystals can wait."
"Yes sir," she said with a nod. Jack got up and walked over to the door to look outside. The embers of the fire built earlier were glowing faintly in the darkening shadows of the woods, illuminating the immediate area with an eerie impression of gloom.
He vaguely wondered if this planet had a Stargate on it, though he supposed it really didn't matter when they had no idea where to start looking. Still, it would be worth asking Carter her thoughts on the subject.
Something howled in the distance as a breeze blew past, sending sparks from the fire upward. Jack watched with a growing sense of doom. Damn, he thought as he stared out at the alien landscape. He was stranded on yet another planet somewhere out in the cosmos with no way out. Why did this crap always seem to happen to him?
Colonel Bolton died the next day. Sam was there when he drew his last breath, her heart breaking as she listened to O'Neill do his best to convince Bolton to hold on just a little longer. It had been a losing battle from the start, but even Sam harbored hope for some kind of a miracle.
There was a slight debate over burying the body or go the cold storage route, but they had no idea when they'd be rescued, or if Sam could even fix the tel'tak so it was a short debate. Sam grabbed a shovel and joined O'Neill as he rammed his own into the dirt.
"I can do this Carter," he said in a voice that suggested he was pissed about something. "Go fix the engines."
Sam stood for a moment, watching as her commanding officer pushed the blade of the shovel into the dirt again. He was definitely angry, but Sam needed this.
"I'd like to help sir," she told him. He looked up at her and glared, causing Sam to take a mental step back. She stared back at him, trying to come up with the best way to say it. She finally decided to just say it. "It's the least I can do for Colonel Bolton."
O'Neill grunted but didn't say anything else as he went back to shoveling more dirt. Sam took that as a positive and went to work helping him dig the grave for Bolton.
They worked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. A cool breeze swept past as she thought about the things she could have done differently. She should have checked the crystals herself instead of relying on her people to get it right. The sounds of the shovels digging ever deeper filtered in through her mind as she remembered the details that splashed across the navigational panel just before the tel'tak crashed. More dirt flew from her shovel with each memory that was probed and analyzed in an effort to understand why she and O'Neill were left to dig that grave. She thrust the shovel in deeper trying to erase the guilt that built up within her, even as she tried to rationalize everything. Deeper and deeper, until Sam finally gave in to her despair and wiped her face to dry the sweat as well as the angry tears that came from nowhere.
"It's deep enough Carter," O'Neill said, his voice gruff.
She nodded and stood back, rage at the whole mess fueling her desire to keep going. She looked over at O'Neill instead, anger hanging thick in the air. He stood there with the shovel handle in one hand, the blade pushed deep into the ground, and stared back at her.
This was it. She nodded again and turned to lead the way toward Bolton's body.
They settled into a routine in the days following Bolton's death. Jack spent hours securing their campsite, scouting the area and chopping wood on the off-chance rescue took longer than expected. Considering the fact that even Carter had no idea which planet they landed on, Jack figured they'd need a lot.
He dropped an armload of wood onto the pile he had been building next to the ship and leaned back to stretch the muscles in his back. If nothing else, this forced solitude was going to help him stay in shape, he thought with a wry grin at Carter who had come out of the ship at that moment.
She smiled back although she had a puzzled look on her face, obviously wondering what he was up to. Jack reached down to pick up and throw a stray log onto the pile, figuring to just let her wonder. It would do her good. Carter, on the other hand, didn't see it that way. She shrugged and went over to get some coffee.
Jack joined her after a moment. "How's it going with the engines?"
"I can't figure it out," she responded with a shake of her head. She stared at the trees with an expression of perplexed determination. "I tried replicating a few crystals that I thought might work, but there's something else going on... Something I'm missing." She sighed, turned to look at him and said, "I've tried everything Colonel. I just ran out of solutions."
Jack nodded, but found he couldn't get past the disappointment. Anger rose up as he stared at the fire. "Damn it," he said with a terse snarl. It just didn't seem fair that this stuff always seemed to happen to him.
"I'm sorry," Carter said.
"Not your fault." And it wasn't. He knew that. He was just pissed beyond belief that he was stranded again. Life seemed to want to kick him in the gut every time he turned around.
"That's not all," Carter said quietly.
Jack didn't say anything at first. He wasn't really sure he wanted to know. But Carter obviously didn't care what he wanted.
"The circuitry in the emergency beacon is fried."
Jack waited for her to tell him more. That she could somehow miraculously make everything all right. That she was just joking, anything to assure him that he was wrong in his assumptions. But she sat there instead and watched him with a wary expression.
He finally gave in with an amazed, "What?"
She didn't respond, which was fine by Jack. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself. "I don't believe this," he said as he stood up and started to pace. "I just don't freaking believe this." He stopped and glared at Carter as hope built up in him. "You can fix it right?" She shook her head and looked down at the ground. Jack just wanted to punch something. "What happened to it?"
She ran her fingers through her hair as she stared at the fire. "I don't know. Whoever..." She looked over at him then turned to face him head on. "Someone did not want us to be found."
"Someone?"
"I have no idea who, sir. But at this point it doesn't even matter." Jack shook his head, the need to build up optimism in his subordinate moving in, but Carter was not finished. "We're screwed, sir. We're stuck here on this planet with no way out and no hope of anyone finding us." She stared at him for a moment, visibly trying to calm down. "We're stranded."
Jack didn't respond. There wasn't anything else for him to say. He stared at her for a few minutes, then sat down on the log facing the campfire, grabbed his own cup and poured hot coffee into it. Carter sat down next to him and joined him in staring at the fire.
"There's still the chance someone will come looking for us," she finally said.
Jack took a sip of his own coffee and stared into the fire, knowing as well as she did that there were no guarantees, especially since their location could be anywhere within a million miles of their last communication with the SGC. Without that beacon, they were facing odds that even his Uncle Kurt would pass up on, and that man would gamble away his own mother if he had the chance.
Carter sighed, stood up and tossed the remains of her coffee into the fire. "I'm exhausted," she said as she stifled a yawn. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go lay down for a bit?"
He nodded as he said, "I'll take the first watch. I'll wake you when it's your turn."
She went into the ship at that while Jack followed her and secured the opening. He figured they were pretty safe with the outer door closed, but he still took his gun with him as he sat down by it while Carter lay down to sleep. The news that they were stranded didn't sit well with him and he was glad for the time alone so that he could brood in peace.
He leaned his head back against the wall and listened to the low hum of a dying ship. Despite Carter's assurance that they had several more days of life support, Jack began to make plans on the preparations he needed to take care of to ensure their survival. Rescue was never a guarantee, especially since the ship had veered away from their original course when the engines blew.
He glared at the wall as he wondered who hated him enough to deliberately switch out those crystals.
A lot of people, he realized.
He got up and went to sit down in a chair in the flight deck of the ship. Rain pelted the window as he stared out into the darkness, his thoughts turning to the last time he was stranded on a planet with no way home. He had been rescued then. And now that he thought about it, there was that time in Antarctica. His mood brightened a little. His men would come through for him, he thought with a grim smile. They had to.