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Author's Notes: The following chapter's continue Sam's recollections. It's the direction that my muse took me and I actually like the results of having the events retold with more details and from a more personal point of view. I apologize to anyone who finds this repetitious or boring...

Back to the story...

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"Just remember what I told you about reporting to me personally when the mission is completed. I meant what I said."

"Yes, sir!" she replied with a grin as she headed over to the hangars to join up with her squad as they worked with the air crews to get the planes flight-ready.

====o0o==== End Part 9 ====o0o====

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PART 10: Rough Passage

During the rest of their preparations, she didn't see either Colonel O'Neill or Teal'c. Apparently, the ships carrying the heavy warheads were housed in another hangar, and her SG-1 teammates hadn't arrived yet anyway. And, when they did arrive, just a half hour or so before they were due to depart, they were being taken directly to their ships.

So she didn't get to see either of them before the mission started. Well, at least she'd be there to help cover their sixes and she took some comfort in that.

Sortie 2 had ten planes to cover the Colonel's ship with its naquadah payload. Their ten cover planes were split into two squads of 4 and one pair of two. Their designations were Viper Squad, Gator Squad, Falcon Escort, and the Colonel was designated Bear One. As they formed up around the Colonel's ship above the planet, they called out,

"Falcon One, check; Falcon Two, check"

"Gator One, check; Gator Two, check; Gator Three, check; Gator Four, check"

And then her squad, "Viper One, check; Viper Two, check; Viper Three, check," and then she chimed in "Viper Four, check"

Next she heard the Colonel, "Bear One, check. Allright, folks, you know the mission. We're on radio silence from here on out. Good luck to all of you, and if I don't get another chance to say it, you are all the finest. Now let's go and Kick Some Go'a'uld Butt! Falcon One and Two, lead the way," and she smiled at his voice. It was good to hear his words too. Comforting to know that some things hadn't changed in what had seemed a very crazy universe over the past few days.

Yep, she was back where she belonged, covering the Colonel's six.

The next couple of hours passed quietly as they flew around and between some asteroids and moons for cover while approaching their targets. They were controlling their speed so that they would, hopefully, strike all three targets simultaneously.

Unfortunately, Sortie 2 was not able to fly in unnoticed and they were met with a group of Jaffa gliders set on defending their god. The space around the Colonel's ship turned into a maelstrom of 3-dimensional high-tech knife-fights as ships slashed through space. Over the next 10 or 15 minutes, Sam took out 4 Jaffa ships, one of which was just about to take out Captain Wilson from behind. Circling back around to rejoin the group after pursuing the last one she'd blown away, she saw a Jaffa glider lining up a clean shot on the Colonel's ship.

Screaming into her radio, "Colonel, at your 5-o'clock! Break hard right, NOW!" Gauging it carefully, she aimed her plane between the Colonel's ship and the attacking Jaffa ship. Holding her breath, she turned her ship…just so….hoping to take the blast on the strong right strut.

The sharp jolt was accompanied by a bright explosion outside her cockpit and she jerked from an electrical shock as something shorted out inside. Spots filled her eyes, and her ship skittered up and away from the remaining planes protecting the Colonel.

Waiting a few seconds for her vision to clear, she tried to assess the damage. Her plane was tumbling drunkenly out of control. Well, she had been hit…. so she was actually, very, very lucky. Testing her controls, she found that the main engines were offline and that she only had sluggish control over the thrusters. With patience, she managed to stop the plane's drunken roll and take stock of where she was.

Looking up, she saw Captain Wilson off her starboard wing. "Major, we're clear of Jaffa for now. Bear One is intact and we are assembling for the final run. What's your damage?" he called over their team frequency.

"Main engines are down, but I have life support and some control over the thrusters. I'm out of the mission, Captain. You go and join back up and make sure that Bear One gets to its goal," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied reluctantly but respectfully, "And what about you?"

"I think I can land this bird, so I'll head down to the planet and try to land near the Stargate. I have the maps…so, you never, know, Captain, I may actually beat you home," she tried to make it easier on him. No one ever wanted to have to leave someone behind. It was hard enough when a comrade died in battle and you had to move on. But if a comrade was injured or disabled, the credo was "No One Is Left Behind."

All well and good to believe that it could be that way, but they all knew it wasn't true. There were times when you had to leave people behind. Because the mission came first. The mission always came first. It was their duty. They were doing their duty for all of the folks back home. So that Earth could be free of domination from evil such as the Go'a'uld. And sacrifices had to be made along the way. The truth was, that occasionally, someone did have to get left behind. But no soldier wanted to be the one who had to make that decision and be the one who had to do 'it'… leave someone behind.

Most never had to face that awful reality. Major Sam Carter had faced it before. A by-product of working on SG-1, she figured. She'd had to leave the Ambassador behind with the Aschen in order to prevent them from launching a bioweapon. She'd hated the decision, but she'd done her duty. And it haunted her. Just like countless soldiers before her over the ages, she knew that she'd done the right thing for the greater good, but, it still haunted her. She'd had to abandon him. It sucked, plain and simple.

And, now, she had to help Captain Wilson do the same thing to her. She had to try and make it a little easier on him because she knew what he would live with afterwards if she didn't return through the gate.

"Captain, I need you to promise me that you will look after the Colonel. I've served with him for almost seven years now and I owe him my life several times over. I can't protect him now and I need you to do it for me. Get him to the objective and then get his ship back to base. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied respectfully, but she could hear the torment in his voice.

"I meant what I said, Captain, I can land this ship and I will be coming back through the gate. You can ask Colonel O'Neill after you RTB, but SG-1 has been through a lot worse before and we'll be OK this time," she paused for a second. "It's been an honor flying with your squad, Captain, when we get back to Earth, I'd be honored if you'd let me fly some training flights with you and your team," she finished.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied again. "It's been an honor flying with you too. I'm going to hold you to those flights back on Earth, ma'am."

"You got it, Captain, I'll see you back on base. Good hunting, Captain, this is Viper Four, signing off." She gave him a wave through the cockpit window and he waggled his wings at her before peeling off her starboard wing and rejoining their group.

Assessing the situation herself, she couldn't see any remaining Jaffa gliders and it looked like they'd lost 4 of their 10 escort planes. The Colonel's ship was still in the center of the formation that was heading on the last run of its objective. Sending her silent support and best wishes their way, she turned her attention towards controlling her recalcitrant ship. She had some sort of control, but it was like piloting a tugboat on ice. The controls would overshoot or stick…or stick and then overshoot. She was making constant corrections as her ship wobbled towards the planet below.

She did get it down….but it was more of a crash than a landing. But then, as they say, 'Any landing that you can walk away from is a good landing.' And she could walk. No broken bones, although she had some bruised ribs. The only significant damage had been another electrical short and surge through the cockpit on impact. She'd had electrical shocks before, actually several times since joining the SGC… But this was more severe than most that she'd experienced. Her body jerked and jolted uncontrollably as the current shot through her body. When it stopped she immediately passed out, slumped over the damaged control panel.

When she woke up sometime later, she checked her watch. She estimated that she'd been unconscious for about half an hour. Moving carefully, she checked for injuries. Nothing seemed broken. She had some bruised ribs… Her back was on fire, but that was nothing new. What was new were the burning sensations along her right arm and leg. And it was accompanied by the distinctly unpleasant odor of burned insulation, burned electronics, and she feared, burned flesh. The material of her jacket and pants were scorched and blackened. She decided not to investigate that any further at the moment.

Pulling on the cockpit release, she pushed the damaged cockpit up and out of the way.

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She'd been on the move for 8 hours straight. After getting herself oriented with the map, she estimated that she was roughly 40 clicks (or roughly 25 miles) from the Stargate. The infection and fire in her back was not tamped down by the antibiotics….but then, they probably hadn't realized that they needed to include a sticker on the label that said something like 'for maximum effectiveness, restrain from all offworld excursions that include a military backpack and strenuous physical exertion.'

Her injuries to her ribs were actually the most bothersome this time. Pain lanced through her torso with every step she took….and she'd taken a lot of steps. Keeping her eye on landmarks and her map, she figured that she'd covered roughly 18-19 miles so far. That left 6-7 miles to reach the Stargate….and if the terrain didn't change much, she should make it there in another 3-4 hours.

Stopping near the top of a low rise, she carefully matched the features on the map to the shapes of the mountains and rock formations that she could see above the trees. Roughly triangulating her position, she confirmed her earlier rough estimate….yep, she had roughly 6 miles to get to the gate.

Pulling her binoculars out of her pack, she carefully mapped out her route through the terrain ahead while glancing back and forth between her map and the view in front of her. She tried to pick out the Stargate itself, but there was a low ridge and trees obstructing her view.

Resting for a few more moments before pushing on, she took stock of herself. The bruises on her back were aching and the cuts were oozing again. She'd probably pulled several of the stitches loose. The bandages were soaked – with a combination of sweat and blood and puss. She was glad that she couldn't see it, actually. Her ribs…well…a couple of them might actually be broken, she had to admit….they had hurt a lot more than she figured that bruised ribs had a right too. Her right arm and leg….were sending her constant burning sensations….but weren't that bad….she figured they were only second degree burns.

On the plus side, she had no other broken bones. She had antibiotics for the infected wounds. She had some painkillers….but she couldn't take much until she got back through the gate. Then she planned to take as many as they would allow…or even better, she'd just take some of the doc's best stuff, straight through an IV. And, she fully intended to fulfill Doctor Cooper's orders and head straight to his ministrations as soon as she returned to the Tokra base!

Back to the plus side….she hadn't died on impact. She was able to walk. She was making pretty good time considering her injuries. She'd apparently crashed in this world's late morning and this world apparently had long hours of daylight, so she hadn't had to hike in the dark yet. Dusk was only just starting to settle now and that might actually be an advantage. The cover of darkness might help her scope out the situation around the Stargate.

Looking back the way that she'd come, she let her mind wander for a few minutes. She couldn't see the crashed glider anymore. She'd lost it behind a traversed ridge hours ago.

Flash!

Something winked in the distance.

An intense reflection off something metal.

There it was again. And it was moving.

Grabbing her binoculars, she brought them up and searched the terrain behind her.

Jaffa! And there were a lot of them. Following her trail.

Watching carefully, she estimated that there were 20-30 of them and they were roughly 5-6 miles behind her.

Quickly turning back to the terrain leading to the Stargate, she scanned it with different eyes…this time looking for any signs of movement. Seeing none, she returned to watching the Jaffa behind her. They were moving faster than she could.

Running the numbers through her head, it was going to take her roughly 3-4 hours to reach the Stargate and the Jaffa behind her were moving faster than she could at roughly 3-4 miles per hour…..the Jaffa had roughly 11-12 miles to reach the gate…and at their present pace, that would get them there in…roughly 3-4 hours.

It was going to be a race to the gate.

Quickly stuffing her canteen and other materials back into her pack, she moved off the rise and started down the other side at the fastest pace that she could manage.

Trying to run scenarios and possibilities through her mind, she was disappointed at the lack of positive outcomes that she could realistically imagine. She was in no shape to outrun the physically fit group of Jaffa. She'd had no prior indication of any sign of pursuit or discovery….she'd seen no planes or ships during her descent into the planet. She'd seen no indications of indigenous sentient life. She didn't have time or provisions to try and Escape and Evade for months into the wilderness. With her injuries, she'd simply set the simplest bearing back to the Stargate….they had to know where she was headed….which meant that they most likely had a group of Jaffa waiting at the Stargate.

But she had no choice but to go and assess the situation before trying to find some other option.

Pain was lancing through her side with each jarring step. Her quicker pace was forcing her to breathe more rapidly and that was adding to the pain in her ribs from her footfalls as she moved quickly downslope.

Options? What options did she have? Very, very few. There was no time to try and rig any traps. She didn't have her P90….all she had was a pistol and some spare ammo for it. She was kitted out as a pilot…she wasn't kitted out as a foot soldier. Firepower was definitely not on her side.

Options? She could only see two. One, beat the Jaffa to the Stargate and hope that there wasn't a group of them waiting for her. Or two, head away from the gate and try and lose the Jaffa…spend who knows how many weeks living off the land and then hope that the gate was left unattended so that she could leave sometime in the coming weeks or months. Unfortunately, she knew that option had no chance in hell of working… she seriously doubted that she could manage to suddenly and completely fool the Jaffa behind her into losing her trail. There were too many of them and she was injured. She also realized that her injuries, especially the infection, would not allow her to spend weeks in the woods alone. She'd never make it.

So, right now, there was no feasible Plan B. There was only Plan A. Head to the gate at the best possible speed and hope that she got there before the Jaffa.

Back to the plus side…she had to try and find something positive….what was positive? And then a thought occurred to her and she quickly jerked her head up and scanned the sky. OK, this was definitely a positive….there were no Jaffa ships overhead running aerial searches for her. She hadn't heard or seen any planes the entire time she'd been here. Too bad, though, that she hadn't heard the ship that brought the Jaffa who were behind her…if she had, she might have been able to keep a larger distance between her and them.

Back to the plus side, though…at least she had seen them when she'd stopped for reconnaissance on the top of that ridge…. Otherwise, she'd still be moving a bit slower, and they would have definitely caught her before she reached the gate.

And another plus, the twilight on this planet was long and a small moon was rising, so hopefully, she wouldn't be moving in complete darkness over the last few miles.

Next positive?...The silence stretched and she listened to her own ragged breathing and the pain from her ribs and back started to move to the forefront again….

Positives?

She wasn't dead, yet.

And she smiled grimly.

Yet.

Sweat was running down her face. Her back was on fire and the pack, small as it was, was a grinding torture. Pain continuously lanced through her chest.

Just….keep….moving….

Just….keep….moving….

Time to distract herself….she wondered, for the 20th time since leaving the Colonel and Viper Squad…she wondered how the rest of the mission went. She wondered if they'd succeeded in destroying the mothership? Did the Colonel return safely? Teal'c? Captain Wilson?

And, where was Daniel, anyway?

Pain!...Just…keep…moving…pain, thud, pain, thud, pain…almost comforting in that as long as there was pain, she knew she was still alive. And she could still care about, and worry about, the other members of her team.

Just….keep….moving….

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"kkkkttthhhhhttttttkkkkkk"

Sam threw herself into the underbrush and took cover. Holding very still, she listened for intently.

"kkkksssssppppttthhhhhttttttkkkkkk"

She couldn't see anything moving.

Click, click, click.

What the…? Aaaggghh…her radio! She stared at it in disbelief. She'd tried it shortly after extricating herself from the crashed glider, but she'd forgotten about it since then. She'd left it set on emergency receive power only…but she'd done that only because it was standard operating protocol for downed pilots…she hadn't expected to actually ever receive anything through the radio.

She pulled the radio out, but did not speak into it. She'd wait a few minutes and if nothing happened, she'd turn the radio off and return to her trek. If it was picking up some stray radio signals, she couldn't have it give away her position to the advancing Jaffa behind her.

"Major Carter, this is Captain Wilson, are you there?"

She was stunned. She hadn't expected them to actually authorize a rescue mission.

"Major Carter, this is Captain Wilson, please reply."

"Wilson, this is Carter," she hissed into the radio. "What is your status?"

"Major, good to hear your voice, ma'am. We are right in front of the Stargate. We have a 12-man party of pilots and Tokra ready to help get you out of here. Where are you ma'am? And do you have any additional injuries?" he replied.

Her head spun a little. She almost couldn't believe this was real. Was she delirious? Thoughts slammed through her head. The Jaffa did -not- hold the Stargate. The Jaffa were not lying in wait ahead of her. She truly had not believed that the only Jaffa were the ones behind her. A rescue party! Relief and deep feelings for them swept through her. Wilson had apparently grabbed who he could and come charging through the gate as soon as he could. She briefly wondered where the Colonel was and felt a pang of fear at the thought that he hadn't made it back with the rest of Sortie 2.

But pilots….and tired pilots at that! She had to get them get out of there. She hadn't heard or seen anything from the Jaffa behind her, but she knew that they had to be catching up to her. Captain Wilson and his pilots were not trained in ground combat and they wouldn't have the firepower or the training to hold the Stargate from a Jaffa attack.

"Captain, I want you to follow these orders carefully. Leave any extra armament, and supplies that you brought, cached behind the Stargate. Leave something so that I will recognize where the cache is. Then take your men and get back through the gate. There is a group of several dozen, well-armed and pissed Jaffa hot on my trail. I am going to head away from the gate and will try to lose them and then I'll try to make my way back to the gate after a few days or so," she sent back.

As she waited for his reply, she started moving again. Staying where she was -was not an option.

"OK, Major. Here's the situation," Wilson sent back, "None of my men are willing to just leave you here," there was a pause. "So, here's what we need, ma'am, we need you to tell us where you are and you need to tell us how to blow the hell out of those Jaffa so we can all go home. I know it's not fair, but we're not getting out of here if you don't give us a hand. Otherwise, we're going to just follow our noses and we'll probably get everyone killed."

Shit! He wasn't leaving her any options and he knew it. This was a bad enough situation already and now some good pilots might die trying be heroes saving her.

She didn't reply immediately, she just picked up her pace. Her breathing became ragged again as she tried to sort out some possibilities that included the fewest body bags.

Finally, she sent back, "Wilson, …..I am …..going to …..kick …..your butt ……all the way…….to the Asgard galaxy …..and back!"

"Yes, ma'am," came his reply.

"Allright, Captain," she continued, "I am approximately 8 clicks (kilometers) north-northeast of the gate. There are approximately 20-30 Jaffa spread out a few clicks behind me to the northeast. I am going to swing slightly north and then head slightly southwest up this north-trending ridge line. If you take your men along the ridgeline and set half of them on one side and half of them on the other, we might be able to catch the Jaffa by surprise as they come over the ridge after me."

"Yes, ma'am. We've got the ridgeline sighted ma'am and we're headed up."

"Allright, Captain, you have about a half-hour and then you need to find defensible positions with cover on both sides of the ridgeline. With about half of you on one side and half of you on the other, make sure that you have overlapping fields of coverage so that no Jaffa can slip through."

"Do you have any claymores?" she inquired.

"Yes, ma'am. Lots actually," came back.

"Good. Set a line of them just below the ridgeline and on either side and be ready to blow them when needed. Set some others in a roughly east-west direction just to your south so that you can blow them as you fall back," she directed.

"Understood, ma'am," he replied.

"Allright, I'm going to sign off for a bit while I beat feet up this ridge. Let me know when you've established your position. You'll need to send a man or two out towards me to read the terrain so that you can give me markers so that I can lead them into your set-up."

"Will do, ma'am. We'll be ready for you."

A little over a half hour later: "Major, we're in position. I am sending two men out to scout the terrain so that we can guide you in," Captain Wilson sent to her.

Scrambling uphill now, she couldn't reply right away. When she had set her direction at an angle up the hill, she was able to return, "Roger, Captain, as you start feeding me landmarks, let me know how close they are to your set-up. I am going to let the Jaffa get real close to me when we come up on you – we need them moving fast and not looking at the terrain. We want them fixed on me – we don't want any of them to see anything amiss before you let all hell break loose on them."

"Yes, ma'am," Wilson replied.

And then she was running and dodging trees and rocks. Two of his men were calling out markers for her to look for and follow. Positives? The small moon was full and was providing enough light for her to follow their directions, and dodge rocks and trees without breaking her neck! How was that for a positive? Oh, and here was another positive – the trees weren't so thick that they blocked the light!

FLASH! CRACK! And smoke. Flying bark stung her face and arms. A staff blast had hit the tree just to her right. The afterimage of the staff blast screwed up her night vision and she just ran forward as fast as she could. Following the mental map that she had in her head of the terrain ahead, she prayed that this was going to work.

She had tunnel vision now. Running as fast as she could, zig-zagging through the trees and the rocks. The pain in her back and chest were in their own dimension now. She was focused solely on moving as fast as she could, not getting shot and leading the Jaffa into the waiting trap.

Duck right, around the tree. Step over that rock. Step on the next one. FLASH! Duck left! Stinging tree bark shrapnel. Right. Left. Sweat was running freely down her face. No time to pull her pistol. It would be worthless anyway. There were too many of them.

Right of that tree, around the large rock…

And then she saw the large sawtooth rock that one of Wilson's point men had described. Shifting her course a little to take her approximately 100 feet past its right side, she burst over the top of the ridge and almost freefell over the slope on the other side.

Someone grabbed her and she slammed to the ground, knocking most of the air out of her lungs. Turning over, she faced back as the Jaffa came charging behind her. Wilson had his men hold their fire until the Jaffa were almost on top of their positions. Then he signaled for them to fire at the same time that the claymores on either side of the ridgeline went off. Everyone was showered with flying dirt, tree limbs, rocks and other debris.

The Tokra had handed her a P90 and she slipped right into their formation as they egressed down the ridgeline. When they had passed the cross-ridge line of claymores, Wilson took out most of the remaining Jaffa with the cross-ridge line of claymores.

They made it to the gate, dialed it up and started diving through with only sporadic fire from a few Jaffa peppering them. One of the remaining Jaffa, however, scored a final hit when a staff blast hit the side of Captain Wilson's leg just before he stepped through the gate.

Tumbling out of the wormhole, they found a scene of semi-organized chaos as the rebel base was being prepped for evacuation. They watched the open gate for pursuit, but none came and the wormhole shut down.

Sam turned to the men who had risked their lives to save her and she shook her head, "I owe you all my life. You pulled that off like trained special ops soldiers. You all impressed the hell out of me." The various Captains and Lieutenants all smiled at the praise.

"And, Captain Wilson, as soon as your leg has healed, I am still going to personally kick your butt across the galaxy for disobeying my orders and attempting such a stupid mission!" She stated with mock gravity and a semi-serious glare.

"Just glad that you'll have the chance ma'am. You know that Colonel O'Neill would have done the honors if we didn't bring you back, so I was going to get that trip across the galaxy one way or the other!" and he grinned at her.

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====o0o==== End Part 10 ====o0o====

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