The commotion of Colonel Carter being eased awkwardly into the tight confines of the small ship roused O'Neill from his train of thought. Raising his head, he watched in semi-horror as Dr. Bill Lee and Jonas Quinn gracelessly manoeuvred the leader of his flagship team through the open hatch, draping her listless form over one of the benches near the rear of the ship. Sam's arm flopped off the narrow perch, showing a series of ugly purple bruises around each of the puncture wounds caused by the planet's local flora. Jack winced, remembering the full stakes of this mission. Easing himself up off the floor, Mia's slight form still cradled tenderly in his arms, he gingerly set his charge on the bench across from Sam, wordlessly following the other two men back outside to fetch the rest of SG-1.
Daniel came next, slung between Jack and Jonas while Dr. Lee helped Dr. Lam pack up the rest of the equipment. The archaeologist, as with the other three, had a disturbingly corpse-like pallor about him, his generally boyish appearance marred with the same bloodied and bruised puncture wounds as the others. Jack had seen a lot in his years of service, a great deal of which hadn't been pretty. But seeing his friends like this took the cake. He cringed with each jostling step they took, afraid it would signal the end for lifeless young man they carried between them. At last settling the scholar on the floor of the ship, just behind the pilot's seat, Jack was relieved to see that his friend's chest still gently rose and fell with breath.
It took all three of the men working together to haul Teal'c's unconscious form back to the ship, struggling to ease him in beside Daniel before heading back out to load all the equipment. Dr. Lam, finished with the packing, returned to the ship to monitor her patients while the others cleared SG-1's camp and crowded into the now cramped quarters of the Ancient vessel.
Sealing the hatch to the tightly packed ship, Jack willed the engines to life, gingerly easing the overloaded vessel into the air. Turning back towards the Stargate, he pushed the engines to their limit, knowing all too well that each passing moment could mean the difference between life or death for one or all of his people.
"What the hell happened out there?," demanded General Hammond, watching the SGC medical personnel unload not three, but four broken and lifeless bodies from the small ship.
"Apparently the planet had its own negotiation tactics," O'Neill replied bitterly, belatedly adding, "Sir."
"Is everyone alright?," he asked, genuinely concerned.
"They're alive, Sir," replied O'Neill, unsure what more could be said for them at that moment in time. Nodding, General Hammond lead Jack through the crowded embarkation room, up towards the briefing room and his office. Finding some measure of privacy in the small, cluttered space of Jack's office, Hammond closed the door, asking again, this time more gently, "What happened out there, Jack?"
Debriefing his three-star colleague, General O'Neill sank heavily into one of the padded chairs in front of his desk, his emotional weariness suddenly becoming something more physical. Watching in concern, Hammond quietly listened as Jack spoke, interrupting as little as possible, until he knew as much about the state of the mission as the Brigadier General. Resigning himself to not having any of the answers they needed until SG-1 and young Mia O'Neill came round, he at last dismissed Jack, saying, "You go see to your people. I'll keep an eye on things up here."
"Thank you, Sir," said Jack, both relieved and grateful to be given the opportunity to check in on his friends. He'd rather be with them, not knowing what would happen next, then up here pushing papers and still not knowing.