Teal'c, who'd stayed at the Gate itself to survey this new world, had managed to grab its side and lower himself back behind its supporting wall. Breaking through the icy crust of the snowdrift previous storms had formed there, he hunkered low behind the wall and shouted loudly into the wind for his teammates. The wind threw back his words and swallowed up his radio calls so that he couldn't hear his own voice let alone any replies the others might have sent. With resignation, he scooped away the snow around him to make a small cave and fumbling with hands numbed by the cold even through his gloves, pulled a silver, foil blanket and the heavier gloves from his pack to provide some protection against the storm. It was impossible for him to locate the others. He was effectively blind and deaf. He could only hope they also were able to find some degree of shelter to wait out the storm.

The snow and wind which whipped at Teal'c's thin blanket and threatened to rip it out of his hands also covered the momentarily stunned form of Daniel Jackson. The initial onslaught of the storm had driven him back up the two steps he'd descended upon arriving on p2G-129 and had sent him tumbling off the back of the Gate. He had landed with enough force to knock the air out of him and painfully jar his left shoulder. Fighting for breath in the relentless, biting wind he lay sprawled in the swirling snow. Then, he shook himself out of his stupor along with the quickly accumulating blanket of snow falling over him to struggle to his knees. The wind pushed him back down, but fear of freezing to death where he fell spurred him onto his feet.

If he'd managed to lurch back into the wind just a few feet, he would have bumbled into Teal'c and what little shelter there was. Instead, he turned his back to the wind and let it carry him along with its load of snow on its screaming, tumultuous way.

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Sam had cleared the bottom step when the gust hit. She'd been slammed painfully along the side of the stone platform where she had desperately fought for a purchase against it rough side. For one brief instant, she had managed to hold onto a rocky protuberance, but the next, buffeting blast of wind had torn her hands away from it and thrown her to her knees. In the chaotic rushing of the wind and with the snow pelting her face, she lost contact with the platform, and for all she tried to reach it again, she might as well have been miles away. She struggled to turn into the blast and circle back to the Gate. But, it was impossible for her to make headway against the wind. The freezing snow burned into her eyes and down her throat, and she was all too aware that she had no way of being certain of her heading.

She pawed with fingers she could no longer feel at her radio but had to give it up as useless. With a cry of frustration, she turned her face away from the wind and stumbled to her knees. She pulled at her pack and painfully and slowly managed to dig out the heavier winter gloves and the foil blanket the colonel had insisted they carry...just in case. She was able to pull the gloves on over her thinner pair, but the wind tore so viciously at the blanket she balled it back up and thrust it back into her pack. With her hands numb and encased in two pairs of gloves, she didn't have a hope of holding onto it in the wind.

She clumsily fished out her canteen and carefully drank what she could of the already cooling water. She couldn't afford to become dehydrated, and in these conditions she wasn't sure the water wouldn't freeze inside her canteen. What she needed was a sheltered spot, but she had none. Afraid remaining still in the open would be signing her own death warrant, she struggled to her feet and allowed the buffeting wind to push her along with it. She'd have to trust her emergency locator beacon would allow the others to find her when the storm abated: she couldn't spare any more of her limited strength fighting the wind to stay near the Gate.

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O'Neill had not been far in front of the major when the first blast struck. He'd hunched his shoulders and managed to stay on his feet. Looking back over his shoulder, he was dismayed to discover he couldn't see Carter, let alone Daniel and Teal'c who'd been even further behind him. He shouted her name, but if there was an answer he couldn't hear it over the roar of the wind. His instincts told him to rush to the spot he'd last seen her; that though the snow blocked her from his view, she was still there. But, he knew he couldn't trust his instincts in this situation. She most likely wouldn't be where he thought she'd been, and he'd lose not only her, but himself as well.

He'd been headed right to the DHD when the curtain of snow had descended on him. If he could maintain that heading, he had a good chance of reaching it. No matter how desperately he wanted to reach her and the others, he had to keep his feet planted firmly in the right direction. He'd do them all more good reaching the DHD than he would vainly searching for her blind. So, struggling to walk a straight course while being assaulted from every side by the wind and blinding snow, he walked away from her.

There was rope in his pack, but without something to which to tie it, it was worse than useless. His compass was a similar waste; even holding it directly in front of his face, he couldn't make out the dial. Or anything else, for that matter. His eyes stung with the effort to see through the biting snow and wind. If he did manage to locate the DHD, he'd be unable to find the proper symbols to dial. By then, the cold would have rendered his hands too numb to differentiate between its raised symbols.

Still, his best bet was to head for the DHD and pray he bumbled into it. It would provide an anchor and be a limited shelter against the wind if nothing else. And, he'd be able to send for help as soon as the storm calmed. Warmer bodies than his, ones not stiff with the icy chill would be needed to track the others to whatever shelter they'd found and bring them home again. He fought the cold weather survival gear out of his pack before hunching even more into the wind and cautiously moving forward. The ceaseless, swirling mass of snow and wind obscured everything. Trapped in the whiteout, he quickly lost all sense of time and distance and was unable judge if he had already overshot the DHD.

It was too late, much too late, to decide he should have turned back for the others instead of pushing on into nothingness. His existence quickly narrowed down to placing one foot in front of the other and moving ever into the full force of the wind. He didn't dare stop. His team, his responsibility to them, and all they had come to mean to him through their years together mandated he not give up. He had to keep moving, had to keep seeking a way to reach them and bring them safely home. So he trudged on and prayed they had found shelter to withstand the storm.