The weakness of using first-person limited point-of-view makes itself especially clear in this part; I can't write anything that Emmett doesn't see/experience. I have some ideas of how to get around that, but this chapter is more my speculation about what Emmett would do if the base was under lockdown when he was there. This is Emmett's story, so it had to be told, but as what happens to Emmett is less important than what happens to SG-1, I'm going through it pretty fast. Thanks to all the reviewers, by the way.

Emmett was talking to Bosworth about how he'd found out about the stargate when they were halted by a shuttering gasp from Wells. Bosworth abruptly stopped talking and went to his teammate's side. "Simon, buddy? How you doin'?"

"Jake, I can't feel my legs." There was a hint of panic in Wells' voice and the other men exchanged worried looks above him.

Bosworth lightly touched the injured man's shoulder. "Hang in there, OK? Help is coming." He glanced at Emmett, then told his friend, "I think Mr. Bregman here wants to interview you now."

Emmett nodded and turned to Wells as James maneuvered the camera to a better angle. "Yes, yes, tell me about yourself."

Wells managed a little smile to show he knew what they were doing. "My wife and I are expecting."

"Oh?" Emmett said. "Your first?"

"Yeah." Wells' smile grew distant, then twisted in pain. "Oh God, I'm never gonna see my son."

"You're not dead yet," Dixon grunted from by the door. "And you don't know what the kid will be yet, what's all this "son" stuff?"

"Marci had an ultrasound," Wells breathed. "In my… vest. But Sir, I'm not feeling so good."

Bosworth carefully slid out the scan while Dixon griped about ultrasounds not being approved SG equipment that he could remember and "you'll live all right, but here's the thing with babies—in a couple months, you'll be wishing you hadn't." He went off on a tear about babies and kids in general, barely pausing when his team reminded him he had four kids himself, and closed with, "Miracle of birth, my ass. I'll tell you what's a miracle—birth control that works."

Emmett looked at the blurred image on the scan and held in a chuckle when Dixon commented, "Son, huh? Well I wouldn't go painting the room blue just yet."

Now by the door, Balinsky hissed, "Someone's coming."

"I hear it," Dixon said, and the room went silent except for the sounds of harsh breathing. After an eternal, tense moment, Dixon lowered his gun a fraction. "It's Fraiser and Jackson."

Sure enough, a moment later Drs. Fraiser and Jackson appeared, both with machine guns and heavy packs they immediately shrugged off. Fraiser took one looked at the injured man and put her gun down, opening her pack with purpose. Emmett quickly motioned James back out of the way but let the camera keep rolling.

Dr. Jackson also put his gun down and went to Wells' side. Wickenhouse had been trying to put pressure on the wound, but readily relinquished his place. "Hey there, I'm—"

"Daniel Jackson, I know, SG-1," Wells breathed. "I think it went straight through me. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Dr. Fraiser—Janet—said. "We're going to turn you over now, OK? Stop the bleeding." Bosworth and Wickenhouse rushed to help, while Dr. Jackson quietly spoke to Dixon and Emmett listened without shame.

"Best guess is that SG-7 cracked. We're at Threat Level Foxtrot Alpha Six."

Dixon nodded with a grimace. "Figured as much."

"We're cut off from the computer and the main self destruct. Walter somehow survived the explosion, thank God, and managed to close the iris, but a lot of Jaffa got through. We were actually on our way to the gate room when your call came."

"I don't know where those three Jaffa came from, Daniel, but they came out of nowhere, I swear."

Dr. Jackson nodded, his expression troubled. "Some undoubtedly got out of the gate room during the initial confusion. Until we have time to do a full sweep of the base we just won't know." His gaze fell on Emmett, and after a moment his expression cleared with recognition.

"Dr. Jackson," Emmett said.

Jackson couldn't yet know that he'd apologized to Major Carter, so he was surprised to see the other man's eyes soften with sympathy. "It's Daniel. How are you holding up?"

"I'm in way over my head," Emmett admitted. "But if there's any way I can help…."

Before Daniel could answer, his radio crackled to life. "Colonel O'Neill's been hit, we need a medic!"

"Sam?" Daniel asked into his radio, just that one word, but full of questions.

She answered, "We're pinned down, no one can get to him yet…. He's not moving…."

Daniel looked at Janet, who nodded, then keyed his radio again. "We're on our way, Sam."

Janet's shirt and hands were streaked with blood, but she didn't seem to notice. She said to Dixon, "He's stable for now," –though Emmett would never forget the sound of Wells calling for his wife, trying to say goodbye—"but you'll have to get him to the infirmary as soon as possible. We'll leave a stretcher. Just be careful not to jostle him too much." She pulled a cylindrical object out of her bag and handed it to Emmett, as he was the closest one not coated in blood. Then she zipped up her bag, picked up her gun, she and Daniel briskly nodded, and they were gone.

Dixon took the small object from Emmett's trembling hands, and it unrolled into a stretcher. The soldiers carefully lifted their companion onto it. Dixon ordered, "Bosworth, you, Mr. Bregman and Sergeant James get him to the infirmary. Balinsky, Wickenhouse, you're with me."

Emmett felt a small surge of pride when James and Wickenhouse both looked to him for approval, and nodded his agreement. It had to be killing the colonel to split up his team, but they couldn't abandon their current position, and he could hardly send the film crew out by themselves with Wells. Bosworth offered his CO a quick salute before easing out the door, gun at ready. Emmett and James followed with the stretcher, and behind them the camera silently recorded.

The trek up the stairs seemed to take an unnaturally long time, all of them jumping at the ordinary echoes from their own movements, and Emmett felt more secure once they'd reached the infirmary. There were more people, for one thing, and it also wasn't likely to be a specific target of the invading Jaffa, though they'd be in a bad position if one happened upon them.

Emmett and James were teamed up with a nurse and sent to make sure they had sufficient quantities of the different blood types; Emmett guessed that it was busywork to keep them out of the professionals' way but didn't mind. Wells was being operated on by a Dr. Warner, and when Emmett was near that part of the infirmary, blocked off by a blue curtain, he could hear beeping machines and low voices, but couldn't make out the words.

Some of the soldiers guarding the infirmary spoke frequently into their radios, but kept their volumes low and Emmett couldn't hear what they said. The reporter in him was curious, especially about Colonel O'Neill's condition—was he seriously injured?—but he was also relieved to have something to do.

Some time later (he had completely forgotten about his watch and wasn't sure when the invasion had started, but was amazed that only a few hours had gone by) Emmett and James were given the "all-clear" and escorted up to the surface. James went home and Emmett was driven back to his hotel.

He turned on the TV but had trouble concentrating. As he looked at the generic watercolors on the walls and adjusted his room's temperature, he could hardly believe that only a few hours earlier, his life had been in real peril. Emmett had faced threatening situations before, but the change from danger to safety was somehow too quick to take in.

The room's phone rang—only the military possessed the number—and the precise voice on the other end informed him: "You will be contacted when normal operations are resumed. An airman will bring your camera to you. Do you need anything?"

"Could I get the phone numbers for my crew?" Emmett asked, searching his memory to remember their ranks. "Ah… they're Tech Sergeant Dale James and Airman- First Class I think? Shep Wickenhouse."

"One moment please."

After he hung up, Emmett immediately picked up the phone again and started to dial Jenna and Frank, but stopped after the fifth number. God, what was he thinking? What could he tell his friends? –Nothing. He dialed James instead, and went on to plan beginning editing the next day. Maybe filming at the SGC had been interrupted, but he could still get work done. Wickenhouse sounded strange on the phone, but Emmett attributed it to shock.

Tempted though he was, Emmett didn't watch the day's tape when it arrived a few hours later. He didn't dare watch anything so classified in his hotel room. "It only has to wait until tomorrow," he told himself, as the Air Force had cleared a secure room for their use.

The next morning as they waited for the tape to rewind, Emmett asked Wickenhouse, "So, what happened after we left yesterday?"

The younger man gulped. "We waited a while longer until the "all-clear" came and got sent home. When I got to the surface I remembered I'd left the camera and told them about it."

He looked anxious, so Emmett reassured, "That's alright. I actually forgot about it myself until I heard it was recovered. Did you find out what happened to O'Neill?"

Wickenhouse shook his head. "But… I think something happened to Dr. Frasier, and maybe Dr. Jackson too. There was—something—on the radio, but it was really garbled." His expression said that he feared the worst.

Emmett didn't know what to say. The tape was ready; he pushed "play."

Note: In case you were wondering, according to my research pages, "Threat Level Foxtrot Alpha Six" means "immediate threat, invasion of base." I also looked up collapsible stretchers to make sure such a thing exists; the answer is that yes, it does.