Four hours later, a shaft of sunlight stabbed into the tunnel, landing directly in Daniel's eyes. He groaned and reached up to adjust his glasses. It wasn't until his fingers hit his nose that he remembered he had lost them in the flood.
Lying on the cold floor of the tunnel, he assessed the damage to his body. It still hurt to breathe, and his head ached abominably. His right shoulder was oddly stiff, but he didn't remember injuring it. He turned his head to inspect it and got a mouthful of red-gold curls.
Well, that explained that. At his slight movement, Miranda woke up, lifting her head off his shoulder.
"Daniel?" she mumbled. "It's not morning already?"
"Well, the sun's up, so I guess it is."
With a sigh, she laboriously achieved an upright position, allowing Daniel to sit up. She raked her fingers through her hair, breaking up the dirt-encrusted spikes. "My kingdom for a shower," she moaned.
"Mine for a cup of coffee," Daniel replied. "Think about it this way, we're going home soon."
She cast a bleak look towards the mouth of the tunnel. "If we can get to the Stargate." She glanced back at him. "It's probably guarded, you know."
"Let's cross that bridge when we get there," Daniel said, using the wall to get to his feet.
"More like jump off that bridge," she muttered. Daniel chuckled faintly.
"You almost sounded like Jack, there."
They stepped out of the tunnel and looked around. More accurately, Miranda looked around. Daniel asked her what she could see.
"The mountainside looks mostly made of shale, so it'll be tricky going down. After that it's just hill country as far as I can see. I have no idea where the Stargate is relative to us, and I won't until tonight."
Miranda was able to use her near-eidetic memory to triangulate her position without any sort of tools. She had made sure to chart the necessary constellations their first night on PR2-986.
"Then our first order of business is to get off the mountain," Daniel observed. He checked his sidearm; thankfully, it hadn't been torn free of its holster. Then he inspected the contents of his tac vest.
One GDO, two clips of ammo, a tape recorder (in a waterproof bag), a handful of Powerbars, a bandana, his sunglasses, a waterlogged journal, and his allergy medication.
"And again, no sunscreen," he muttered to himself, remembering that first trip to Abydos. With a regretful sigh, he tossed the journal and took two allergy tablets dry. He looked over at Miranda.
She didn't have much more to offer. A digital camera, a multi-tool, the k-bar knife she never went anywhere without (where on earth had she learned to use it?), extra ammo, and her own medication.
"Shall we go?" she asked a tad too brightly.
And so they began the sliding, skittering journey down the mountain.
*****
When Miranda had woken up that morning, she had been feeling marginally better than she had the night before. After an hour of navigating the treacherous slope under the hot sun, she began to feel even worse.
Her left ankle hurt so badly that it was numb. Someone had slammed an ice pick into the back of her skull, and every inch of skin on her back and arms was rubbed raw. All she wanted was to dope up on morphine, curl up in a ball, and will this all to be a nightmare.
She bit down on a cry as shale disintegrated under her injured ankle. She landed heavily on her hip, sharp stone slicing through the material of her pants. A curse exploded from her lips as she slid down the mountainside, scrabbling vainly for a handhold.
She came to a stop twenty feet later and rolled onto her back, tears leaking out from under her tightly-closed eyelids. Grating noises and a loud clatter announced Daniel's arrival.
"Miranda! Are you okay?"
"No," she hissed through clenched teeth. She removed her hands from where she had tucked them in her armpits and examined them balefully. Blood oozed from a myriad of cuts and scrapes on her palms.
"Ouch," Daniel said with a sympathetic wince.
"Hurts like hell," she gritted. She used her elbows to sit up and her hip sharply reprimanded her for negligence. "Bloody damn!" she yelled, twisting to inspect the damage. A huge hole gaped in her pants, through which she could see the flayed and torn skin. A dark stain spread over the green material.
Miranda lay back down, staring through tear-blurred eyes at the sky. "St. Joseph of Cupertino, what have I done to displease you?" she muttered darkly, feeling the onset of a massive pity party.
"Saint who?" Daniel asked, carefully removing bits of shale from her injured hip.
"Joseph of Cupertino. Patron saint of astronauts."
Daniel's laugh quickly choked off into a wheeze. "I told you not to make me laugh," he protested, pressing the bandana against the bleeding lacerations.
Miranda flinched, then forced herself to go still. "Better pray to St. Agatha, too—earthquakes. And St. John Licci, of head injuries," she rambled, to keep herself occupied. "St. Petronilla, of mountain travelers. And just for good measure, throw in St. Helena."
"And what is she the saint of?" Daniel asked, tying off the bandana.
"Archeologists," Miranda replied, smiling despite herself. Daniel snorted, swatting her shoulder good-naturedly.
"Can you walk?"
She eased to her feet carefully, ignoring her stinging hands. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she asked dryly. Under her breath, she muttered, "Oh saints, beloved of the Savior, get us home and I'll attend midnight mass for a month."
"Be careful what you promise," Daniel said. "They just might hold up their end of the bargain, and then where would you be?"
"Safe and home, even if it means sore knees," Miranda retorted. This time, she was even more cautious in her descent. "I am never going anywhere off-world with SG-1 ever again!"
It took all of her willpower and strength to keep going. Her hands and hip felt like ground meat, her migraine was getting worse, and she was exhausted. Feeling guilty, she snuck a look at Daniel.
He had one hand pressed against his side and his breathing was shallow and uneven. Sweat poured down his pale, wan face. Miranda sighed heavily. They were in for a long, agonizing walk.
*****
Daniel was ready to kiss the sweet grass when they finally reached the foot of the mountain. By mutual agreement, they rested in the shade of a boulder, passing a canteen back and forth.
"There's been no sign of Jaffa patrols so far," Miranda said, shifting her weight off her left hip. The bandana was already stained black, the blood starting to dry.
"It'll probably get worse the closer we get to the gate," Daniel replied, checking the position of the sun. About an hour until sundown. "Want a Powerbar?"
"Sure," she accepted the meal bar and ripped it open. She chewed slowly. "So, you grew up in Egypt?"
Daniel blinked at the sudden change in subject, but then realized she was just trying to make small talk. "Until I was eight," he said softly. "Then we went to New York."
She didn't push the subject any further. "I grew up in a tiny village on the Dingle Peninsula. You know, the kind where everyone knew English but no one bothered to speak it. We moved to Galway when I was in high school, and my dad used to take my brother and me to the Aran Islands on the weekends."
"You have a brother?" Daniel asked curiously.
"Alexander. He's four years younger than me. He builds airplanes."
"Sounds like fun. What about you?"
"I went to Trinity University in Dublin. Colorado University offered me a position as an assistant professor. I worked with them for about four years, and then…" she trailed off. They both had memories they didn't want to revisit.
"Tell me about Sha're," she said instead. Daniel smiled faintly.
"She was spunky, brave, beautiful, and strong," he said. "She was the only one who didn't put me on a pedestal. She saved my life, and Jack's, too. When Ra tried to force me to kill my friends, she and Skaara created a distraction to get us out of there." He took a deep breath, surprised that he was able to talk about his wife without the familiar ache in his chest.
Of course, his cracked ribs more than made up for it.
"What was it like, living on Abydos?"
"A dream come true. It was hot, hard, and primitive, but I loved it. I felt like I belonged. For the first time since…my parents died, I had a real family." Daniel removed an uncomfortable rock that was digging into his back. "But even when I lost that family, I gained a new one almost immediately."
"You guys work together really well," Miranda said quietly.
"Yeah, don't we?" Daniel murmured. He recognized her wistful tone. "You know, you and I don't do half bad together, either."
She snorted. "Oh, yeah. Concussions, broken bones, lacerations, and bruises. Really well."
"But we're alive," Daniel pointed out. "That's what counts."
She considered that. "Yeah, I guess."
They watched the sun set in companionable silence.
*****
The Stargate stood in obstinate silence, almost returning Jack's belligerent stare. He scrubbed a hand through his silver hair. I don't leave people behind. What a joke. He had left two of his people on a Jaffa-infested world, and he couldn't do a thing to get them back.
He had left Daniel behind. Once, twice, how many times? On Nem's world; on Klorel's ship. To his credit, both times he thought Daniel was dead or dying. This time, he knew Daniel was fine. Trapped, but alive.
How long before the Jaffa dug through the blocked cave entrance? And if they didn't, how long could Daniel and Miranda survive in the cave? Jack balled his fist and slammed it against the wall, welcoming the stinging pain.
He was a man of action; this idleness galled him. There had to be something they could do.
"O'Neill," a smooth, baritone voice intruded on his dark thoughts. Jack looked up, glowering at the interruption. Teal'c was, as usual, unaffected.
"What?" Jack growled. Teal'c strode over to stand beside the Colonel.
"Are you well?" the Jaffa asked simply.
Jack snorted, shaking his head. "I'm fine."
"That does not seem to be the case."
"Look, Teal'c, just lay off me, okay?" Jack snapped. An eyebrow climbed Teal'c's forehead, almost reaching the gold serpent emblem imbedded in his dark skin. "I'm fine," Jack muttered again.
"Greer also is unhappy," Teal'c offered.
"Has she eaten anyone yet?" Jack asked archly.
"She has not," Teal'c replied. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "There is a creature on Chulak we know as a nantíl. It is a common animal, similar to your rabbit. They are notoriously hard to kill, often surviving a shot from a zat'nik'itel and escaping." He paused and gave Jack an inscrutable look.
"They have an aptitude for thriving in the most inhospitable environments. Daniel Jackson is like a nantíl. He will endure this hardship as he has endured many before."
With that, Teal'c executed a perfect about-face and strode out of the gate room, leaving Jack to his thoughts. He dropped his chin to his chest, pondering Teal'c's words. What about Miranda? This was her first off-world mission. They didn't know how she'd react to this kind of situation. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.
He was interrupted yet again by a sudden sound, loud in the silence. But this time, he didn't mind at all.
It was the heavy clunk of the Stargate's inner ring unlocking.
*****
Miranda held the long, coarse grass away from her face as she surveyed the flat area surrounding the Stargate.
"How many?" Daniel whispered.
"Ten, and a weapon installation of some sort," she whispered back, her heart sinking. "This is going to be tricky."
"Too bad we don't have any grenades," Daniel muttered. "We'll need a distraction of some sort." He looked at her sidelong, one eyebrow quirking upwards in a silent question.
She bit her lip. "I don't think I can do it on demand, Daniel," she said worriedly. "Definitely not taking them all out."
"You tore into an entire wall of rubble," he reminded her.
"I thought you were going to get eaten!" she protested. "Think of something else."
"We don't have any other options, Miranda," he said earnestly. "You can do this."
She shook her head, cold fingers of fear gripping her chest. He cupped her face in one hand.
"If you don't do this, we're not going home." His blue eyes bored into her green ones, and her mouth snapped shut. "Can you do this?" he asked.
She nodded stiffly. "But we do this my way," she warned.
"Deal."
*****
Far'uk sweated under his armor. Not, of course, that he would ever admit it. In fact, it was dangerous even thinking about it. Lord Apophis did not tolerate weakness. He gripped his staff weapon tighter and scanned the hills again.
He and his squad guarded the Chaapa'ai. They had come in the ha'tak and thus they would leave, but while the Lord Apophis conducted his business, no one else was permitted on or off the planet.
Hopefully, Lord Apophis would conclude his business swiftly and they could leave. It had been a year since he had been home, and his daughter was growing quickly.
The ground trembled faintly. Far'uk dismissed it as trivial. This continent suffered from many such quakes annually. Only one of the earth-rending tremors would be of any importance.
A ripple in the grass, like the edge of the wind, raced toward them. Far'uk turned to face it fully, anticipating a brief respite from the heat.
The two Jaffa tending to the heavy, stationary weapon cried out. Far'uk spun around in time to see the ground explode beneath the installation, swallowing both Jaffa and weapon.
The remaining Jaffa leveled their staff weapons, crying out challenges, but there was no one to fire upon. Far'uk frantically searched the hills. Another ripple ran towards them. The Jaffa scrambled out of the way, but to no avail.
Three of the guards were caught in the violent upheaval, dirt and grass raining down.
"Stand! Stand your ground!" Far'uk ordered as his men prepared themselves to run.
"Stand against what?" one of them yelled back. "A ghost?"
"Spread out, fan out!" Far'uk ordered. He only had four men left, and the shadow of failure already hung over him. A loud report, like an abbreviated clap of thunder, hung in the still air, followed by several more.
One of his remaining Jaffa jerked and collapsed. That made up Far'uk's mind. He broke and sprinted for the hills, his surviving men close behind. Once over the first hill, he dropped to a crouch and peered through the grass.
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then two figures appeared over another hill and stumbled towards the Chaapa'ai. Both limped and appeared to be injured. Far'uk spat in disgust. These had sent an entire squad of Jaffa into retreat?
Rising to his knees, Far'uk sent a staff blast searing down towards the trespassers. His men followed suit. The strangers ducked behind the dialer, the blasts missing by inches. The Jaffa continued to bombard them, seeking to overwhelm them by sheer volume.
One of the strangers attempted to dial the Chaapa'ai, but Far'uk targeted the device. The stranger flinched back from the shower of sparks. The dialer continued to smoke, obviously damaged. Far'uk spared a moment of worry that the device was no longer operable, but then decided it was a necessary sacrifice.
*****
Miranda pressed herself as close to the DHD as she could. Their plan had been sketchy to begin with, and now it had rapidly gone south.
"Can we still dial home?" Daniel yelled over the sound of staff fire. Miranda pulled herself up to peek over the rim of the device.
The keypad was melted and warped, and the red dome in the center was shattered. Miranda swallowed convulsively. "No!" she yelled back.
Daniel swore explosively. "Now what do we do?"
Miranda looked from the DHD to the Stargate. "Cover me!" she yelled, and stood up. Daniel swore again and lifted his pistol. Miranda dredged up memories of Sam's diagram of the DHD and began re-wiring the interior. A flash of light caught the corner of her eye and dove to the ground. A staff blast sizzled by overhead.
She bounced up immediately and kept working until the crystals lit up and she was rewarded by a faint hum. She crouched next to Daniel. "I got the power source back up," she told him.
"What good does that do us?" he panted.
"I can dial out manually," she said. He stared at her, hope dawning in his slightly crossed eyes.
"Go for it," Daniel said. She took a deep breath and extended herself towards the Stargate.