Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Stargate characters or anything to do with the show. Please don't sue me. I forgot to write this at the top of each page, and can't figure out how to go back, so the disclaimer goes for the whole story, i really don't own it, didn't make any money or anything, please don't sue.

I finally did, as one of my reviewers suggested, and spaced out the text so it's easier to read (delayed reaction on my part.) But ugh, i think i forgot to put the disclaimer in...Thnx a bunch to everyone who reviewed ;)

Prologue

SikSikasik-don-sik-don-sik-DON-DON!

The girl sat straight up in bed. She could have sworn that she had heard drumming, real drumming, not something in her dreams. She looked around, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark. No. Nothing out of the ordinary, no drummers, no drums, no—

She felt like she was drifting in air, she saw green dots, floating and drifting in the air above her, forming a triangle. She heard voices, faint voices fluttering about; they seemed calm, then panicked. There was rumbling, like an earthquake, and…weapons firing? She now saw small silhouettes, and they were coming closer…

Chapter I

CRACK! She awoke most unpleasantly, smacking her head on a low hanging tree branch as she sat up…a low hanging tree branch? She looked around at her new environs in dismay. Where am I? She thought. "Where am I?" she called aloud. Of course, no one answered. She was standing in what was, as far as she could tell, the middle of a very old, very dank, and very peculiar forest. The canopy of the forest was so dense that the undergrowth could not possibly get enough sunlight to grow, and yet it flourished. Pale tendrils of delicate-looking vines spiraled up the ancient trees, who themselves were a golden-tan, with strange markings at the base. Actually, the markings were very strange. She looked closer, only to discover that the markings were in fact etchings. Well, that was a good sign. Where there was art, there were people, and she was intent on finding them. As she walked along what looked like a worn trail, she thought. "Okay." She said out loud. "Alright. Uh-huh. Okay. CALM DOWN. Just think of what you know, and put everything together. Well, I'm in a forest, all alone in the dark, following what might possibly be a trail, which may or may not have been made by people, which may or may not led me to those people, who may or may not be able to help me." She paused. Yeah, that was likely. "Let's just figure out the story," she said to no one. "Wait – what was that?" She mentally slapped herself—survival technique number one: when you think you hear a noise, alone in the dark, STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF! She listened. It wasn't one noise, but many; people talking, cattle mooing, horses snorting. But somehow it was wrong. She got closer to look. "Oh." This wasn't a city, a town, or even a farm, as she had expected. It was a village. It was a village from what looked like the Dark Age.

She stole some clothes. Maybe the town was some kind of reenactment, but the people were so authentic. They had pock-marks on their skin, and some obviously suffered from maladies easily treated in the 21st century. Not that she knew how to help them at all. Anyways, she thought it best to lie low. The clothes she had stolen were for a boy, which was just as well. It was probably safer to look like a 12 year old boy than a 17 year old girl. She was small and thin for her age, and if she hid her hair and flattened her chest with another piece of cloth, she thought she was passable as a boy. Because of the plethora of exotic goods and the many different dialects, she assumed that she was in a village which specialized in trade. No one noticed a lone boy drifting in and out of the crowds, which quelled her original fears of being marked as an outsider, a stranger, and being burned as a witch or something. That was never fun. What was really surprising was that, although the townspeople spoke with a thick accent, they spoke English. Not even Old English, but English that she could readily understand. Of course they do, she thought to herself. Don't they always speak English in Science-fiction movies? Think about it –sleeping one night, and then…abducted by aliens? She rolled her eyes at the thought. All right, aliens. And they were…attacked? Yes, that was what thy panic was about, the….space ship? … it was being fired on. Okay. So, then…then, they decided they would have to get rid of me, to flee. And they…Ohh! I get it. They put me on the wrong…continent? Dropped me off in the wrong…Century? Planet? Parallel Universe? She had heard the conspiracy theorists, the sci-fi nuts, the wishful thinkers. But she hadn't believed any of it. Yeah, that's right. I've been abducted by aliens, who dropped me off on the wrong planet, which happens to be inhabited by other aliens, who happen to speak English. Right. Now all I need is an over-the-top Bad Guy, with gaudy clothes, a bad accent, who goes around waving a laser-gun at people. And then she heard the screams.