Within minutes the briefing room had filled with people. Besides Mia and Jonas, the new SGC doctor, Carolyn Lam, was present, as were the four members of SG-12, Dr. Bill Lee, and General O'Neill.
"All right," barked O'Neill, moving towards the overhead screen while clicking a button on his controller. "This is the situation." The image of SG-1 laying prone under a thick layer of moss and roots flashed onto the screen. "Any ideas?," he asked, looking around the room. A surprised murmur rose from the assembled group, and Drs. Lee and Lam both stood, moving in for a closer look.
"This is remarkable," said Dr. Lee, studying the thick vegetation encasing the members of SG-1.
"What's remarkable is that they're still alive. For now," replied the General crisply, glaring at the doctor. "Dr. Lam, what do you make of this?," he asked, gesturing to the screen as he turned to face the pretty brunette standing beside Dr. Lee.
"It looks as if the vegetation is actually growing into their skin," she replied, a note of horror creeping into her voice. "I've never seen anything like it before."
"Can they be cut free?," asked O'Neill, cutting to the chase.
"I don't see why not," said Dr. Lam, just as Mia said "No."
"No?," demanded the General, rounding on Mia.
"No," said Mia, shaking her head for emphasis. "If Jonas' translation is correct, those who 'come not in peace' are punished. Hacking at the local vegetation might be seen as an attack."
"Oh for crying out loud," muttered O'Neill. "Are you telling me this planet could be self-aware?," he asked sharply.
"Either that or the indigenous life forms are able to control the planet's natural elements," supplied Jonas, studying the screen.
"Indigenous life forms?," Mia asked incredulously. "The language was Furling, and as far as we know, they haven't been heard from in a millennia or more. It has to be the planet."
"Planets can't think," retorted a member of SG-12. "And we saw nothing on P7X-294 that would indicate otherwise."
O'Neill focused in on SG-12. "While you were there, did you in any way threaten or damage the local plant or wildlife?," he demanded.
"No, Sir. It was a standard recon," replied the team's leader, a brown-haired man in his early forties.
"So there was no reason for the planet or any invisible inhabitants to retaliate against you?," O'Neill asked.
"No, Sir," the man affirmed.
"Then it's possible the text you found was a warning, and SG-1 just walked blind into an alien trap," he summarized crossly. The members of SG-12 looked from one to the other, then back to O'Neill.
"With all due respect, Sir," the team's CO replied calmly, "there was nothing out of the ordinary about that planet, other than the energy readings SG-1 was sent to investigate. It's not as if the plants were watching us, or anything," he said, one of his teammates tittering softly in his seat.
"What's your point, Colonel?," snapped O'Neill, glaring at the man.
"I just can't see this being the result of some sort of conscious alien retaliation," the man replied coolly, his eyes locked firmly on the General's steely glare. "It seems to me more likely that the plants holding them there are simply carnivorous, like the Venus fly-trap, and SG-1 inadvertently stumbled into their lair."
"And that would be better, how, Colonel?," demanded O'Neill, an edge of sarcasm tainting the words.
"It would mean we could cut them free, Sir," responded Dr. Lam.
"I disagree," said Jonas. "The text found by SG-12 would indicate an intelligent presence, General. Mia is right. We can't go in and just cut them out."
"That text could have been left there a thousand years ago," snapped the Colonel. "Besides, we have no way of knowing what those lines actually mean," he added.
" Well, the text says 'Those who came not in peace have paid the price. We are made whole again by their sacrifice.'," replied Mia. "And here we see the planet feeding on SG-1, presumably to use their energy to repair damage they did," she added, pointing to the screen.
"That seems like a bit of a leap to me," shot the Colonel.
"Even so," interrupted O'Neill, silencing the debate. "The fact is, we have a team out there who need our help. Doctor," he said, turning to his head medic, "Do we have anything we could safely hook up to SG-1 to get a proper read on their situation?"
"I can bring equipment to monitor heart rate and brain activity," she confirmed, "although how that will help us get them out of there, I can't be sure," she added.
"Understood," replied the General. "Lee, what about you? Is there any way to get them out without hurting them or any of the plant life?" Lee thought about it a moment.
"I can bring some equipment of my own to run some tests, but without knowing more about the plant life involved, I really can't say for certain," he replied at last. O'Neill nodded.
"SG-12, is there anything else you can remember that might help us here?," he asked.
One of the junior members of the team piped up, saying, "When we found the text, it was shattered across an uneven patch of ground. At the time, I didn't think anything of it, but now, seeing the way SG-1 seems to have sunken into the ground... It may have been a grave marker, Sir."
"Oi," muttered O'Neill, momentarily closing his eyes. "All right," he said. "Doctors Lee and Lam, prepare your equipment and be set to leave on the hour. Jonas, you too. Gather everything you have on the Furling language. I want to be prepared for any surprise encounters we might have." The three scholars each accepted their instructions with a brief nod. "SG-12, gear up. I want you to return to the site where you found that text, and I want you to report everything you see, without disturbing anything. You'll be going through on foot. The rest of you," he said, indicating the two scientists and Jonas, "will be riding shotgun with me."
"Shotgun, Sir?," asked Doctor Lam, obviously confused.
"It's a three day hike on foot," replied the General. "We'll be taking the puddle jumper instead. Any other questions?"
"What about me?," asked Mia.
"You'll be staying here," O'Neill said matter-of-factly.
Mia cocked an eyebrow at him. "With all due respect, General," she said, adopting the military address for 'I really think you're wrong,' "I should come too. I have a working knowledge of the Furling language, I have the Ancient gene needed to fly the ship, and I've studied Diplomacy 101 with Daniel. If something goes wrong, you may need me as back-up."
O'Neill glared at her, considering. "You stay in the ship unless needed," he replied at last. "Anything else?" The room was silent. "Good. Dismissed," he barked, sending the occupants of the room scurrying for their gear.