Mwahaha, more drama. I love it...I know it looks like it's been done before, but come on, SG-1 has the worst luck of anyone I have ever known!

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He can't die. He can't have died. He can't be dead.

Over and over the words played like a record in her head, her inner turmoil cleverly disguised by a lifetime of standing impassively to military attention. She watched the snowy monitors, searching for anything, her eyes occasionally flicking to the screen on the control panel, the information being relayed to her orally by the ever-efficient Walter. The video signal had been lost. But that wasn't the worst part.

The planet had been attacked, and by all accounts Earth's allies- the native people- had been unable to prevent the deaths of SG-1 at the hands of said enemy. The only reason she hadn't been with them was because women were, just for something new and completely different, treated as second-best on this particular planet.

It wasn't a kidnapping. It wasn't a ruse.

Her boys- because they were all her boys- had all been slaughtered in front of half of the native population in the town centre. The weapon of choice? Staff weapons wielded by men who looked nothing like humans. Apparently Earth was not the only planet that scavenged technology.

Sam fought back tears, shutting herself off emotionally in order to function enough to follow Hammond's orders from behind her.

And with a heart-shattering whorl, the iris closed.

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She lasted another three hours. Just enough time to be given a private counselling session from the only man who currently knew about their engagement, his office providing them with enough privacy for one quick hug. Just enough time to avoid the countless personal that had no-doubt heard about SG-1's untimely demise, sans their female member. Just enough time to get in her car, drive to his house, let herself in and collapse on his bed, the sobs shaking her body so violently she could barely get a breath in.

She knew she had doomed herself the moment she had turned left instead of right. Laying on his bed, surrounded by his clothes and his nick-knacks and his smell, she really hadn't done herself any favours. And when she called in sick the next morning, Hammond didn't even ask for a reason. He just offered his support, reminded her that the base's shrink was there for good reason and wished her a speedy recovery.

His tone suggested he knew just how likely that was going to be.

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Sam woke in the middle of the 'second night of hell'. Her dream had been so vivid and so real that, for a moment, she had to remind herself that it had been a dream at all. But it had brought with it a realisation she had been too grief-stricken to the day before.

They were lying.

The people of the planet were lying.

She'd be damned if she knew why, but they had to be. Which meant SG-1 weren't dead.

Throwing back the covers, Sam quickly rid herself of Jack's tee-shirt and boxers and donned her BDU's that were haphazardly thrown on the floor. Racing out the front door, she broke at least five different traffic laws getting to the base. She only realised it was morning when she noticed the day-shift guard at the gate.

"General!"

"Major, what are you doing on base?"

Wasting no time in explaining the smile on her face, she launched straight into her explanation.

"Sir, they weren't killed"

"What?"

"They weren't killed. They couldn't have been"

Hammond first looked wary, then sympathetic.

"Major, I know what they meant to you, but..."

"No, Sir, you don't understand. The Ashonians were lying. There was no attack"

"What are you talking about? You and I were both in that room when the monitor went out"

"Exactly, Sir. The monitor cut out. The sound didn't. If the MALP had been hit by a blast of some kind- one big enough to destroy buildings like they claimed- then the whole thing would have been destroyed and we wouldn't have gotten anything. The Ashonians were claiming that their city was being destroyed, but all we got were some scratchy noises of explosions"

She paused and made herself go into crazy-Carter-explaining-mode. He needed to understand.

"Sir, the MALP was looking right out over the main part of the city- the industrial centre, their courts, the housing of the Ministers... they were all in the centre of town. Now, when we first started hearing the recordings, the Ashonian leader claimed that their life-long enemy had finally come to seek revenge and that there would be no survivors"

"And we heard their screams for ourselves, Major, what other proof do you need?"

"Sir, if this enemy knew them as well as they claim, wouldn't they have known to hit centre of the town? Or even jus the town at all, for that matter? Sir, we saw no visual evidence of any destruction, and the video feed wasn't cut for at least twelve seconds"

Neither made the comment about how she knew the exact seconds.

"In that time, under those supposed circumstances, wouldn't you expect to see at least one explosion?"

"I sure as hell would", replied Hammond, catching on to what she was saying. "But, what does that mean?"

"Sir, I think we got played"

Hammond didn't say anything for a moment as he studied her face, half hopeful, half daring him to disagree. She presented a logical argument, and he couldn't deny that he'd been feeling uneasy about the apparent demise of his flagship team.

"Why?" was his only question.

"I don't know, Sir. But I think it's worth checking out"

"You're damn right it's worth checking out"

"Sir, the Tok'ra have a ship only a week away from the planet. They're currently on P4X-172 doing recon regarding a stash of abandoned weapons. Sir, my Dad's with them. If we could send a team to the gate on P4X-172, the Tok'ra could take us the rest of the way to the planet. At the very least it will confirm what the Ashonian's said"

Hammond started walking out of his office with purpose, and Sam had to hold back a smile. She had him hook, line and sinker.

"You're sure the Tok'ra are still in the area?"

"Positive"

"Then... I believe you've come up with our solution"

"Sir, permission..."

"Granted. You'll be taking SG-3 with you. If you're right, you'll need backup. I'll call the Tok'ra, you go get yourself ready"

Sam nodded, and her smile broke through. Hammond continued to the stairs, obviously going to make the necessary arrangements. Sam couldn't help but count her chickens before they hatched.

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"So, Sam... how're things?"

"Dad, Jack's missing, possibly dead, and all you care about is our sex life?" she hissed from the co-pilot's seat, half serious, half pushing his buttons.

"I asked how things were, not how the sex was..." said Jacob, grinding the word out as though it were poison. They both ignored the snigger from the back compartment, the Marines blatantly eavesdropping. It had become obvious that the base rumours were true the moment Sam had set eyes on her father. Jacob had given her a sympathetic look and Sam had given a pointed look in return. That had been three days ago, and Jacob had refrained for as long as he could. They'd been spending the trip catching up, ignoring the complaining of the Marines about lack of a decent bar on 'this God-forsaken hunk o' metal', and discussing (arguing over) who's house they'd eventually move in to.

Jacob turned serious again. "I just wanna know what you're getting into... if the transmission was right..."

"I know, Dad. I know. But... I don't believe they are dead. I'd know. They're like family and Jack... I don't believe it"

"I just don't want to see you get hurt", he said quietly, and when Sam glanced behind her, the Marines and single Tok'ra operative were nowhere to be seen.

"Dad, if they're dead, it won't matter. Nothing will. But until I know for sure, I refuse to believe they're gone"

Jacob nodded and watched her put on her brave face. Sam leant back in her chair, the ship on auto-pilot, and absently felt her dog tags through her shirt, her engagement ring on the chain next to them. Jacob didn't know that, yet. He watched her, seeing her nervous habit- a habit he'd never seen in her. Sam noticed his staring after a moment, and quickly stopped, and Jacob wondered just what she was hiding.

"What's with the dog tags?" he asked lightly.

Sam sighed, and hesitated. This was not how she wanted her father finding out. Fingering the chain at her neck she slowly coaxed the tags from under her shirt. At first he didn't see it, but when three pieces of metal shone in the light instead of two, he knew what it could be- the only thing it could be. Sam immediately took hold of the ring, holding it up, eyeing it.

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Jacob softly.

Sam nodded. She unhooked the chain, slipped the ring off and put it on her finger. "He asked me two weeks ago" she said thickly. "Had the ring ready and everything"

"Always a good thing"

"Don't worry, Dad, you can tell him off for not asking you first... I don't mind"

Jacob rolled his eyes at her.

"I'm so happy for you, Sam", he said quietly, solemnly, fully aware just how vital this mission was.

"Yeah"

It was all she could say. How could she rejoice in her engagement when her fiancé was presumed dead? Her father knew that. He knew she couldn't be happy yet. Not yet. He also knew to keep his mouth shut- none of these 'He'll be fine' lines. Not until they knew for sure.

"So... white wedding, or shall I expect to hear you've eloped to Maui?"

And for reasons he didn't understand, Sam burst out laughing

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Please note- I know Jack always seems to be the one in trouble, but bear in mind (a) That will soon change... mwahaha... and (b) Sam has been in the labs a lot more since they came back due to her building her little contraption- it makes more sense for her to not be included on a mission than for the team leader to not be there... But don't worry- Jack will have a few 'military wife' moments...

As always, review, let me know how I'm going... it makes me happy.