Using weather patterns to trace a ship in space was an idea born of desperation and Hammond knew that it wouldn't work. He reasoned that Dr Roberts probably also knew that it wouldn't work, but they were all out of viable plans. The only person at all capable of coming up with a genius technical solution was Sam (and he hoped against hope that that was precisely what she was doing) but the General knew that doing something – however futile – felt better than doing nothing. "Try it" he confirmed and young scientist scurried off with grateful enthusiasm.

Hammond looked back at Daniel. He needed to give Daniel something to do as a distraction, but at the moment he looked utterly incapable. Again he toyed with the idea of ordering him to the infirmary but concluded that would only lead to more difficulties if Daniel disobeyed a direct order. Instead he went over to the intercom and pressed the buzzer to the infirmary.

"Dr Fraiser?"

Janet replied immediately, "Sir?"

"Do we have biohazard containment protocols up and running?"

"We do sir" Janet replied competently "and techno-containment precautions are in place."

"Good" the General nodded, confident that if SG-1 did get off the ship then they could be safely treated for any injuries. He leant close to the microphone and said quietly "If you have made the necessary preparations for possible casualties please come to the control room and see to Dr Jackson."

"Yes sir."

Just as the General straightened up there was a sudden flurry of activity further down the room; A report of a sighting of a sighting of a large object in the sky off the coast of Brazil. Hammond felt his heart catch in his chest and a surge of adrenaline swept over him only to dissipate in a prickle of static across his skin as seconds later clarification came. It was a false alarm. No space ship, just the sun reflecting off a 747. General Hammond shivered and wondered how much more tension everyone could take.

Daniel stood hunched over and pretty much unaware of everything going on around him. He felt miserably sick and tortured by his imagination. Endless different scenarios played over and over in his mind; each ending dismally for his friends. However irrational it was, he could not get away from the sense of guilt; Guilt that he was not there with them and guilt that he couldn't think of a plan. "Jack?" Daniel called inaudibly "Sam? Teal'c? How can we help you?" Hell, he was talking to himself now.

"Daniel?" For the briefest of moments he thought it was Sam answering. But he opened his eyes to see Janet standing beside him. "God Daniel, you look awful." She fumbled for his wrist and took his pulse, noting as she did so that his temperature had gone up again and his skin felt clammy. "Why didn't you come back like I told you to?"

"I… I don't know" Daniel replied, too weak to try to think of an excuse.

"I need to see if you've done any damage" Janet said tensely. She was irritated with Daniel, but even more cross with herself, firstly for letting him leave the infirmary and secondly for not checking up on him sooner. Carefully she undid the buttons on his tunic and then eased his T shirt up, slightly afraid of what she might find. Sighing with relief she saw that the dressing still white, with no sign of excess bleeding. Reluctant to undo all the strapping she ran her fingers lightly over the bandages round his stomach feeling for any tension. Daniel held his breath, and his cheeks hollowed as he bit down to prevent crying out.

"Pain?" She asked sharply, looking up at him with an enquiring look upon her face.

"Uh-huh" Daniel admitted with a shuddery breath.

"Well what did you expect?" Janet retorted, but with more sympathy in her voice now that she had assured herself he had not done any serious damage. "I told you that the morphine would wear off and being sliced open tends to leave you with bits that hurt." She motioned to a chair and ordered firmly "Sit down while I go and get you some more meds." Daniel did as he was told, sat down and tried to stop his thoughts from spiralling out of control. He purposely fixated on the clock, counting the seconds and timing his breathing to one breath every three clicks of the second hand. Janet was back before the hand had completed its fourth revolution.

"Morphine for the pain, Metoclopramide for the nausea and antibiotics just in case." Janet helped Daniel ease himself out of his jacket. He shivered slightly in the air-conditioned control room as she pushed the T shirt sleeve a little higher and injected the first of the drugs into his bicep. "There, that should help. Hold this on it until the bleeding stops" she said giving him a small piece of cotton wool. Drugs administered she pulled a chair up in front of him, reached across and took hold of his hand. Daniel looked up surprised, but did not pull his hand away.

"Feeling better?" she asked a few minutes later, noting with satisfaction that he didn't look so green.

"Yeah" Daniel agreed. The pain was receding again and the morphine didn't seem to be making him as muzzy-headed this time. He felt less sick and even the panic seemed to have decreased. He took a few deep breaths and noticed that his heart was no longer racing. He felt more in control and when he looked around the room he no longer saw a mad cacophony of action but could focus on the details. Janet followed his gaze. "We're doing everything we can" she said quietly and gave his hand a squeeze. Daniel nodded.

Daniel shrugged "But 'everything' means being ready to shoot Thor's ship out of the sky the minute we see it" he said despondently. "We can't do anything to help SG-1."

Janet sat quietly for a minute. "So we have to trust that they are doing everything they can to get off the ship." She looked hard at Daniel "You've all got out of worse situations before."

Daniel wasn't convinced that they had, but he was grateful for the words.

"If Sam can get the beaming technology working they might be able to beam off" he admitted thoughtfully. Perhaps they'd be able to set the autopilot (always assuming Asgard ships had such a thing), disable the shields, beam down and let it burn up in the atmosphere.

Janet squeezed his hand again. "If there is a way off, Sam will find it" Janet said comfortingly. "And if anyone has a gift for surviving against the odds it's SG-1."