Chapter 7
I'm sitting in the briefing room the next morning, sans Vala, who needed to stay home with the kids. General Graham is seated at his usual spot at the head of the table. Jack isn't here for some reason, but no one has told me why. We're waiting for Mitchell to arrive with Teal'c. The pair walks in, with Mitchell's three ducks filing in behind them. I stand to greet them and shake their hands. Despite our walk down memory lane yesterday, I haven't seen these two in weeks.
The meeting begins with Mitchell's report. "We've fully scouted the area around the Hammond's last known location, sir, and we noticed something strange about the debris."
"Go on."
I lean forward to listen. "It's not debris, per say, but more like the contents of the Hammond's cargo bay." He pauses, and Graham nods for him to go on. "Our theory is, the bay was decompressed for some reason, and all its contents spilled out into space. With nothing in space to really stop them from moving, their momentum spread them out pretty far by the time we examined them."
His science officer speaks up. "Based on the debris's rate of speed and trajectory, we were able to calculate at what coordinates the Hammond's bay was decompressed." He pulls up a stellar map on the big screen. "The last known location of the Hammond was here," he says, pointing with a laser, "but its bay was decompressed all the way over here." His laser pointer moves a significant distance away.
"Theories?" the General asks.
Mitchell speaks. "The Hammond may been on the run, sir. According to Jackson and the pilot who reported them missing, they were planning to take their engines offline for repairs. From what we understood, the use of sublight was questionable. They could have used sublight to run that far in a pinch," he explains gesturing to the path his subordinate just traced, "had their engines conk out, then tried to use the decompression of their bay to push them just a little further to safety."
"Safety?" I inquire.
The science officer speaks up again. "Into this cloud here." He activates another layer on the stellar map, revealing a multi-colored cloud of I-don't-know-what covering much of the area around the supposed location of Sam's ship.
"Well," I ask further, "did you look for her ship in there?"
"We couldn't risk going in. We only had a measly cargo ship to work with and the other cruiser was redirected elsewhere. It never made it there to help us with the investigation," Mitchell says.
"Why the hell not?" I say angrily, turning to the General. Jack would never let resources be denied for finding Sam, of all people.
Teal'c answers for him. "Because I requested that the cruiser be sent to Chulak."
"What? Why?"
"We came under fire from orbit."
Fear grips me. Not Chulak. "The aliens?"
"So we originally believed. Fear runs rampant among the Jaffa now that we have seen the destruction these aliens have caused. However, it was in fact ships of the Lucian Alliance, seeking revenge for crimes we did not commit."
"They blame you for the other aliens' actions?"
"Apparently so. The Alliance is weak and believed a strong show of force would strengthen and excite their power base."
"So what happened?"
"The Earth battle cruiser arrived and helped decimate the three ha'tak vessels they sent to disturb us. It is now in protective orbit around Chulak should the Alliance decide to return in the near future."
It makes sense. Earth's alliance with the Jaffa nation is extremely strong. With Dakara gone, Chulak became the next capital. It must be guarded at all costs and using all available resources. Even ours. But still, what about Sam?
"I am not only here to inform you of our troubles on Chulak, but also to offer assistance for Colonel Carter. You will remember that Earth ships do not do well in gas clouds."
Mitchell perks up, calling upon his knowledge of all our mission reports logged in his head. "That's right. Sam was on the Prometheus when it was trapped in a similar gas cloud after another alien encounter. Go figure. She probably recognized the situation and went for it, thinking the cloud could give them cover. Since she's the one who figured out how to get out of a gas cloud the first time…"
"Maybe she could just repeat it again with her own ship," I finish.
"Yes."
"Teal'c?" I ask, wondering what his assistance is.
"I have sent a Jaffa-controlled Ha'tak vessel to that location. Its Go'auld design should enable it to enter the cloud safely and scan for the George Hammond. I have seen such vessels pursue prey into clouds of this nature before."
"That's reassuring," I mutter, not sure if this will work.
Teal'c doesn't take offense to my words. He merely adds, "The Jaffa will be reporting to me here within moments."
The alarm sounds and a tech announces, "Incoming transmission."
Mitchell smiles. "Timing."
The intercom sounds and the tech says, "Sir, it's the Jaffa. They're asking for Master Teal'c."
General Graham presses the button to speak. "Patch it through up here."
The big screen flickers, changing from a star map to a Jaffa's face. "Master Teal'c, I have your report."
"Speak, my brother."
"We have found the Earth ship, but it is abandoned. There are no life signs. It appears that several escape pods were launched. We are searching for them now."
"The pods would have even less of a chance of getting out of that cloud if they were ejected there," I comment.
"Let's hope they escaped before the ship got swallowed up by the gas," Mitchell says.
"Yeah, but then, where are they? You would have seen them yourself, wouldn't you?"
Mitchell shrugs.
"Is there more, Brother?" Teal'c inquires.
"I have sent some of our men to search the Earth vessel from within. They have found bodies, Master Teal'c." We all look at each other and shift uncomfortably. "They are dead." I close my eyes. Shit. I hear Teal'c asking for a count. "Thus far, they have discovered only 21. It appears that more of the crew escaped or were captured than remained."
"Captured?"
"Perhaps the Tau'ri can explain," the Jaffa says. He seems to enter commands into the console, which changes our view to the inside of the Hammond.
Jack is there. I sit up straight. So that's where he is.
"Jack?"
"Daniel."
"Is everything… I mean…"
"She's not here," he says abruptly. I can tell by his face that he's not sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. "There's blood here, though." He gestures to the bridge behind him. "Right where Carter likes to sit and stand on the bridge." He swallows worriedly.
That's where the idea of being captured comes from. I watch helplessly as Jack looks behind at the spot nervously. A few Jaffa allies are milling about studying the Hammond's displays, looking for clues. I don't know what to tell him. I look at General Graham. Jack and Sam aren't actually "official," nor approved under the frat regs for that matter. I wonder if Jack's presence there on her ship crosses some sort of imaginary line of conduct.
If Graham cares, he's not showing it. Or maybe he'd rather stay out of it and not go over Jack's head.
I look back to Jack and feel empathy for him. I've gone through what he's going through, more times than I want to remember. It took one of those devastating experiences to make me realize I needed to act on my feelings, complications to work be damned. I'm not sure how far the two of them have gotten in their relationship, but there's definitely something still there after all these years. They've been implying it for the longest time. Just not openly admitting it. And for good reasons. Damn regs.
There isn't much for me to say to comfort Jack. Not in front of everyone else.
"General O'Neill," a Jaffa in the background starts. "You must see this." Jack welcomes the reprieve from our silent scrutiny and steps over to a console.
He announces what he's seeing to us over the comm link. "Looks like the console froze on its last report. Carter had already initiated evacuation procedures when they entered the gas cloud." That meant some of the crew escaped. But where are their pods? The life support on those things is not indefinite. "They were being attacked. The other ship fired some sort of energy burst that radiated all over the ship. It must have disrupted the systems and froze them like this."
"Look here," the Jaffa says, eyeing the other console.
Jack moves closer. Something in his face changes. "They were boarded."
No one speaks for several moments, too scared to consider the possibilities.
Teal'c finally breaks the silence that threatens to choke us. "Have you determined the cause of death of the crew members?"
The Jaffa looks up at the sound of Teal'c's voice. He speaks into a communicator on his wrist before reporting back to us. "Some appear to have sustained head injuries. Of what sort we are uncertain. Others seem to have been cut apart. We are unsure how."
I feel sick to my stomach. His description activates a flash.
I'm trapped. I can't move. My frail body is no match for this blue force field surrounding me. I close my eyes because I don't want to see what's coming next. It used its spider limbs to cut that other man in half. He'll do it to me.
He'll do it to me.
He'll do it to me.
Oh god.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"
"Jackson. Jackson!"
I'm being shaken. When I regain my bearings, I realize I'm on the floor of the briefing room with Mitchell hovering over me. I take in air for the first time in what feels like a long time. I lift my head up suddenly, hands going to my stomach. I scramble to pull up my shirt and examine my body. No marks. I run my hands over my stomach again. No blood.
I let my head sink back to the floor.
"Jesus, man, you scared the shit out of us. What the hell happened to you?"
Tears sting my eyes. "I don't know," I whisper.
I try to blink back the tears that are threatening to fall. "Call his wife. Get her down here."
"Mitchell," I breathe. He turns back to me and grasps my hand. "What happened?" My voice is hoarse. My throat dry.
"You… you stood up. Looked like you were gonna be sick. Then you just collapsed and started mumbling things in Ancient."
"Graham, what the hell is going on over there?" Jack's voice. He's still on the comms.
"It's alright, O'Neill, whatever was happening to Dr. Jackson has passed.
"What did I say?" I demand of Mitchell.
"Ahh, hell, I don't know. I just recognized the language. Doesn't mean I understood it."
"Cam! What did I say!" I don't know why I'm in hysterics right now. Graham's right. The vision is over. I just need to get myself together. But I can't. Instead I start having trouble breathing.
"Dammit, Daniel. Try to stay calm." He turns away. "Where the hell is the doc?" he yells.
"I'm here." Carolyn replaces Mitchell's face. "Daniel? What happened?" she asks calmly, ever the cool-headed professional.
I can't answer her because I must be hyperventilating.
"Okay, let's get him up. Help me get him to the infirmary."
Strong hands lift me up. I don't know whose. Over the noise of my labored breaths, I hear Jack in the background demanding answers in a worried tone. Graham is trying to calm him down. Carolyn is trying to soothe me with a soft tone, but I don't understand what she's saying.
I can't remember making it to the infirmary. I must have blacked out or something, because the next thing I know, they're laying me in one of the beds and Carolyn has a needle up my arm.
Whatever she does to me helps. I start to breathe more easily. The world suddenly seems strange and I feel my eyes slowly opening and closing.
"Daniel?" Warm hands reach up to cup my face. A feeling of comfort washes over me.
"Vala." I open my eyes. "How'd you get here so fast?" She's looking at me worriedly. More worried than I've seen her look in years. She's been crying. "Hey." I sit up.
"They had to give you a sedative. You've been out for over an hour."
"What?" I look around nervously. "Why?"
"I don't know, Darling. Mitchell said you collapsed. He said you looked frightened when you came to." I suddenly feel guilty for putting an equally frightened look into the eyes of my wife.
"I don't…" I'm confused. "I don't know what…"
An image of a spider pops into my head and I suck in a breath. Ridiculous. I'm not afraid of spiders.
It's Vala's reaction that gets to me more. She lets go of me too suddenly. I think she saw something else entirely. "Daniel," she cries, voice breaking.
I grab at her wrists, reconnecting us physically. And then I see what she sees. It's clear. There is a cloaked figure coming at me with some sort of long knife. No, take that back. The alien's arm is the sharp thing that cuts me to the bone. Its limb is black, with insect-like, rigid skin. Moments prior, it had cut another person in half in one swing. When I look down at what its done to me, I see blood. And my hands. They're filthy.
I let go.
Vala is openly crying now, but she won't touch me. The image is too painful. It will only replay in her mind if she touches me again.
As for me, I'm numb. My body doesn't react to the vision as harshly as it did the first time. Am I now able to look back on it objectively? Without emotions to interfere?
"Oh man, Vala," Mitchell sounds from the curtain's opening. He pulls her into a hug, one that he seems to understand I can't provide. I'm actually grateful for what he does. I watch as she tries to calm herself down.
Cam looks around her head at me. "You wanted to know what you were saying."
I look to him blankly.
"We played back the recording of the conversation with the Jaffa and General O'Neill. Somebody translated what you were murmuring in Ancient."
Vala attempts to control herself and looks up. She still has hiccups.
"You said, 'I don't know where it is.'"
"I said that?"
"Yeah, that and 'please don't kill me' over and over."
Vala gazes back at me. "You don't know where 'what' is?" she asks, regaining control over her voice.
I shrug, completely at a loss. She breaks her embrace from Mitchell and grabs my hand before I can pull away to protect her. I hear myself cry out as she enters my mind unexpectedly. Mitchell grabs her arms but she pushes him away. I'm more surprised that she didn't knock first than the fact that she's in here.
"What are you looking for?"
"Shhh. Just remember."
"What did you say?"
"Remember." Why does that sound so familiar and so damning at the same time?
Suddenly the outside world is gone and I'm completely within myself. A snowy white cloud is everywhere I turn. A blank, neutral corner in my mind. When I blink, she's there. Her avatar is in the usual white dress. There's a glow about her face that seems even more stark as her clothing fades into the whiteness of our surroundings. She looks determined.
The avatar grabs my hand, pushing her forehead against me. I watch as she attempts to concentrate. "You said once, that when I was gone, you could still see me."
I open my mouth.
"That a part of me was inside you. That it helped you."
I gulp. She's trying to remind me of the hallucinations I had when she'd been transported forward in time. I was very desperate then.
"Bring her back."
"Why?"
"She knows."
"Vala?"
"Daniel. Remember."
I try to pull back, but she won't let me go. Panic bubbles up. I start to struggle against the grip her avatar has on me.
"Remember!"
I yell out. Something happens to me. My avatar feels as though it's splitting in two. It's something between pain and more pain. Is my wife actually doing this to me?
As I zoom out to watch what's happening, I see my avatar liquify as it comes apart into two pieces. I'm horrified. The half on the left reshapes itself into my image. The other half… turns into… Vala? Her second avatar collapses in a heap at our feet. She's wearing a tattered base uniform. The old one. Her head is… is… bleeding! I look at my wife's original avatar, clean and pristene. She is looking down with a morbid expression.
The woman at our feet cradles her broken head, looking weak. Her uniform is filthy, muddied up and brown.
"This is you, Daniel. And this is me. It is part of both of us," she explains.
"Vala, I don't understand," I address the woman in white.
She steps back… then rises, retreating back into her own mind.
I'm angry. I feel wronged. As if my own wife violated me. Our sacred, unspoken trust - broken!
I kneel down to pick up the other Vala, crumpled on the floor and bleeding. I cradle her head in my lap. I caress her cheek, and am surprised to see that my fingertips leave trails of dirt behind. The eyes of my avatar widen.
I wake up.
Mitchell is holding Vala back. He's got her arms secured behind her and is keeping her in place. Teal'c and Dr. Lam are on either side of my bed, staring at me intently.
"Cam."
"Yeah?"
"Find the Tok'ra recaller."
"The memory device?"
"I might know how to find Sam."
He swears. "Teal'c," he calls out. Our Jaffa friend takes his place holding back my own wife from me. She doesn't resist. She just stares at me numbly.
I look away.
000
They use a cargo ship to fast-track the device from Area 52, the replacement facility for Area 51. I'm now sitting in front of it as some techs attach leeds to my head. Vala is somewhere else, banned from coming in. She forced this on me. I can't even look at her right now. I feel her curious eyes boring into me from the window in the door. Can practically feel her nose pressed to the glass.
Maybe she has some idea of what I'm about to see. Of what I'm about to experience.
I don't know if I'm ready for this. Perhaps I never will be. Somewhere deep inside I understand why Vala unlocked a piece of my mind that I had long buried. She understands the stakes. Maybe in a parallel universe, Sam and her crew haven't been captured and aren't in danger, and I can slowly develop a tolerance to these flashes I'm having. A tolerance that will prevent my trauma. But this is reality. My reality. There's no changing what's been done now.
We teach our children that history has a way of showing us what not to do in the future. Mistakes of the past can be avoided if they are understood. I hang on to that notion to justify what I'm about to do to myself. I already know it's going to be bad.
The techs attending to me step back. I look down at my hands. They're clean, for now. I'm not sure why that's significant. I smooth out the pants of my BDUs, trying to distract my mind as much as possible so my nerves don't stop me. I have to think of Sam's safety. I'm almost positive that she's in the possession of the aliens.
I hear a chime and look up to see the Tok'ra recaller on the metal table being activated. It begins to glow ominously as it runs through its start-up sequence. A virtual screen opens up above it, shimmering with listless waves of random color. I haven't let it in yet. Another person might have already started transmitting images and thoughts, but not me. I've got enough of a mental block built up around my mind to protect it and resist most mind probes. Chalk it up to years of abuse and tampering.
Footsteps from behind. "Are you ready?" Carolyn's smooth tone sounds. She steps up to my side and looks down at me sitting in the chair.
I'm blunt. "No."
She doesn't react. "The minute you feel as though this is too much, you end this, understand?"
"You don't need to tell me twice. I'm not even sure I should be doing this."
Normally, she'd be prone to agree, but she knows why I'm taking these mental risks. We had a conversation about the potential outcome of me revisiting such traumatic experiences. Even if they never technically happened. Vala had given her a description of what I've been seeing. She didn't like it. But she didn't protest to this procedure, either. Sam is her friend, too.
"Do you want her here with you?"
My face turns sour. I think she understands my answer.
"Your privacy is important, but someone should be in here with you."
I sigh. She isn't wrong. I look down at my hands. If I can't share this trauma with my wife, then who? "I'll take your suggestions," I mutter quietly.
More footsteps. "Me." It's Cam.
I look up toward the door, where he's standing. My eyes convey a warning that what he might see or hear could be disturbing. He seems to understand and nods. My lack of protest must tell him that it's okay to settle into the seat next to me. Carolyn lays a hand on his shoulder before leaving. She calls out, "I'll be just on the other side of this door, Daniel." She's trying to be reassuring, but nothing quells the sinking feeling I have in my stomach.
I lock eyes with Mitchell. He nods again, signaling that he's ready.
I take in a breath and close my eyes.
000
Oma Desala
He is about to begin. The device hums as Daniel Jackson allows it to connect with his visual cortex. What he sees, the device will display. What he hears, the device will share. Perhaps it is fortunate that what he feels cannot be shown.
The screen shimmers.
I shiver in fear at what is about to be revealed. I glide closer to him as a show of support, even if it is only his soul that will know I am here.
000
Daniel Jackson
Falling. I'm falling. My stomach does backflips as the sensation of falling overcomes me.
Images flash before me against a backdrop of colorless gray. Vala. Blood. Haunted eyes of people I've never met. A castle. A ship. Vala. Blood. The time machine. The forest of that terrible planet where she was lost. Empty canteens. Fallen tree limbs set in an X. My friends. Worried looks on their faces.
"Jackson," Cam says, "I don't know what I'm looking at."
I scrunch my forehead in concentration. "Sorry. I'll try to slow down and focus."
"Yeah, quit falling while you're at it. You're making me sick already."
My feet hit the ground with a thud. My avatar is now surrounded by darkness, yet I can see myself clearly. I reluctantly try harder to focus on a single memory from this blasted unlocked corner of my mind. I need something to anchor me here. To remind me of where I am.
I look down at my hands. They're filthy. Dirt and grime make them as black as oil. I feel disgusting. I can hear Mitchell make an audible sound of equal disgust in the background. He refrains from putting into words how both of us are reacting to the sight of my hands being this way.
Emotion washes over me. I'm choking on it. God, I suddenly feel so sad. I'm damn near suicidal. My avatar drops down to its knees. What the hell is happening to me?
A flash of Vala's face.
That's it. It was because of her. Not as my wife, but as my lost friend. I felt responsible when she disappeared into the future. Depressed beyond belief.
"Daniel?" Mitchell sounds unsure. I don't know how my emotional state is being translated onto the screen. I wonder what he's seeing.
"I feel… sad. Like when she was gone." He puts a hand on my shoulder, a silent show of support. He knows how bad things were for me back then.
"Don't forget why we're here."
My avatar looks up, tears streaming down my cheeks. My clothing is plain and black, reflecting my current mood. "Right." The image of myself gets up and starts walking. To where, I'm not sure. It just seems like the right thing to do. There is a faint yellow light up ahead. I get a momentary feeling of panic. Flashes of random images continue to distract my mind. I can't explain their significance. I have a feeling I might be able to later if I concentrate hard enough.
The light isn't the kind that beckons you to come closer. It's more ominous than that. If anything, it's warning me to stay away. There's a sickening hue to it that is far from welcoming. White noise starts to fill my ears. It must be some sort of sound that I don't understand. It's frightening. As I approach, light seems to streak across a fluid surface. And that surface is alive. The black thing I'm staring at now seems to breath, inflating, then deflating. The light catches in its seams as it moves.
Something akin to dread bubbles up inside me.
The black thing grows taller. Its liquid state begins to take on a more familiar form. It rises high above me, ripples settling its shape into that of a man. But not any man we've seen before. The white noise grows louder and I feel the need to step back. I start to breathe heavily. It floats higher, and I now recognize the dark cloak of my mental attacker. It's not until this thing hovers over me that I realize it.
I only see the cloak. I can't see anything beyond what the liquid material is covering.
Mitchell whispers, "Is that them?"
It lifts an arm, the material cascading around it. It extends a claw toward me. Sharp.
I start breathing harder.
It makes a sudden sweeping motion to cut me.
I open my eyes and fall back over my chair. The screen cuts off as the leeds attached to my head are pulled off. Mitchell makes a sound of surprise as he gets up to help me off the floor.
When I can finally focus again, after the white noise has left my ears and I've retreated back into a safer part of my mind, I see my friend. He's sweating. We grasp hands and he hauls me back up.
I stare at him, trying to gauge his reaction to what he's seen. He stares back. "No offense, Jackson," he says quietly, "but that was some twisted-looking shit."
He rights the chair and I sit down, head in my hands as I try to recover. "That was nothing," I say plainly. My head raises so I can look at him again. "There's much, much more."
"Unfortunately, I can tell." He doesn't say anything more.
We sit in silence for a while, neither of us ready to go back in. I bring a shaky hand down over my face, as if I can wipe away the grime that I felt there moments ago in my vision. When I glance at Mitchell, he's staring at me intently. My eyes widen slightly to ask what he's thinking.
"What if… What if I talk you through this while you're under?"
My brow furrows. "What do you mean?"
He hesitates. "You can still hear me while you're… in there… right?" I nod. "What if I try to keep you calm and remind you that none of it is really happening?"
I stare back at him, contemplating. A voice of reason among the chaos of my mind might be what I need. I bring my hands up and look at them, relieved that they look normal. "We can try that." Mitchell slowly gets up and replaces the leeds on my head. He remembers what commands to enter to reinitiate the machine. The device hums as it powers back up, hungry for more to process.
I take deep, calming breaths before opening up my wall again.
I'm back in that dark place. My hands are unclean again. This time, I don't move. I stand there waiting for the creature to come to me. Knowing Mitchell will back me up gives me slightly more confidence to face it. I push back against the emotional wasteland that tries to regain control of my mind. The hurt and the depression press over me like a heavy cloud. The fear and dread threaten to consume me.
"There he is," Mitchell says.
I turn to look and he's right. The creature has returned, and with it a deafening roar of white noise. It's liquid coat of black floats high above me, forcing me to strain my avatar's neck upward. My lungs constrict. I'm having trouble breathing again as it looms closer. A glint of light and its sharp spider arm is at the ready.
It strikes.
"Move!" Cam yells.
My avatar complies, rolling into a ball to the right. When I look back, the place I was just standing in has been shattered to pieces, as if the ground here is made of black glass. Sharp flecks of it have lodged themselves into my skin. The cuts sting and blood flows freely.
The creature comes at me again. I duck and roll out of the way.
"Look."
The only other thing of visual interest here is a light coming from behind the alien. I try to focus on it. But every time I try to crane my neck for a better look, the alien blocks my view.
"You've got to fight this thing off, Daniel."
With what? I look down at my hands again. They're still just as filthy.
"You have to fight."
"I…"
"It's your mind, goddammit. Make something up!"
A sword, its blade heavy and sharp, falls into my hands. The creature attempts to strike but I block its blow with my imaginary weapon. The alien threatens to bring its sharp claw down on my face, pushing me down to the hard, glass floor. I struggle to keep its limb from catching on my skin, pushing with all I've got on the sword's hilt. The strain has my heart beating frantically and sweat rolling down my face, both imagined and real.
"Good. Now look."
I turn my head toward the source of the light. A familiar pool of blue ripples not too far away. It's like a beacon, beckoning me. It's a gate.
"Jackson. Run."
Run? I look back at the creature attempting to subdue me. Its cloak undulates violently in response to its anger toward me. The claw near my face finally draws blood on my cheek.
"Daniel! Run!"
Run. Run. I heave up with the weight of my sword, breaking myself free from the hold of the creature. It gets pushed back just long enough for me to roll away and up. The white noise deafens my ears and I can barely hear Mitchell calling out for me to move. My legs push off the glass so hard that I sense it shatter beneath me.
I don't look back as I comply with my former commander's order. I run for all its worth, with all I've got left in me. The gate seems farther away suddenly, as if my legs can't get me there fast enough. The fear motivates me but the depression I feel slows me down.
"You're almost there. Just keep going."
I start to cry out. My mental state is manifesting itself physically into shooting pains. My sides begin to cramp up. My legs get heavier.
"Jump!"
Somehow, I get my knees to bend and launch myself at the gate. I feel the familiar sensation of the event horizon swallowing me, but not before a searing pain arches across my back. Mitchell swears in the background. As I fall through the gate, hot fluid starts to flow down my back. And I know that the creature struck just in time to see me fail.
