MacGyver awoke suddenly from the weirdest of nightmares and sat up sharply, an almost overwhelming sense of panic coursing through him. It was several heart-thumping moments before he realised where he was - the Cheyenne Mountain Complex - and the terror began to subside.

He took several deep breaths, gingerly massaged his right knee which was reminding him of its tender condition by aching and then reached for his wrist-watch, which rested on the night-stand beside his bed. The luminous hands informed him that it was just gone 06.00hrs; Jack O'Neill would have just shipped out...

*************************

Jack O'Neill was, at that very moment, stepping out through a Stargate on a far-distant planet, followed closely by the other members of his SG-1 team. All four took a moment to orient themselves to their new surroundings.

The planet had been designated as P4X-994. The Stargate on P4X-994 was, as most seemed to be, set up on a dais of stonework. Instead of steps up to it, however, this one had a gently sloping stone ramp which looked as if it had seen slightly better days and was developing pot-holes in which some form of weed-like plant life was flourishing nicely. The M.A.L.P. that had preceded SG-1 sat at the foot of the ramp. Right around the Stargate for several hundred yards in any direction was tall grass and an assortment of fractionally taller standing stones.

Where the grassy expanse ended, the ground rose up in a high mound that encircled the entire area except for two openings, which were diametrically opposite each other on either side of the Stargate. Beyond the earth mounds treetops were visible and in the far distance directions, hills and then snow-capped mountains.

"Wonderful," observed O'Neill laconically. "More grass, more rocks and more trees." He spotted the D.H.D nestling in the long grass. Gesturing towards it, he instructed, "Okay, Daniel, there's the D.H.D, dial it up and send the M.A.L.P. home."

"Doesn't look like anyone's been around here in a while," Carter observed.

"There's a road here though," Daniel said. He had moved down to the foot of the ramp and discovered what appeared to be cobbles through which the grass was growing rampant. "Heads straight out that way by the looks of it," he said, indicating in a straight line towards one of the breaches in the circular earthworks. The grass, though rampant, was not quite as tall along that line as it was around the rest of the circle. He made his way to the D-H-D and began dialling as the rest of the team moved down to the foot of the ramp.

"Anything look familiar, Teal'c?" Carter asked, while O'Neill fished out a pair of sunglasses and put them on to shield his eyes from the glare of the brightly shining sun. The Gate meanwhile, roared to life.

"I do not believe I have been to this place before," Teal'c answered seriously as the M.A.L.P. trundled back up the ramp.

"How can you tell?" O'Neill questioned rhetorically as the M.A.L.P. disappeared into the wormhole. To his mind the planet looked remarkably like numerous others they had visited to date; grass, rocks and trees. As the Gate shut itself down, he began to move off along the cobbled track. "Okay, campers, let's go for a little stroll in this beautiful sunshine, catch a few rays, work up some blisters..."

Well used to O'Neill's verbal meanderings, the rest of the team fell in behind him as he took point, Teal'c bringing up the rear behind Carter and Jackson who walked together, discussing the possibilities that the existence of standing stones and a cobbled road created; albeit an overgrown, cobbled road.

When they reached the opening in the earthworks, O'Neill called a halt. A dirt track lay directly in front of them, crossing their path. It was a track that showed signs of having seen much use recently, the traffic apparently being of the horse and cart variety.

"Okay, campers, anybody got a favourite direction?" O'Neill wanted to know as they stood surveying the track in both directions. Neither direction looked any more or less appealing than the other but what lay directly ahead was a gentle slope down onto a large open meadow like area, beyond which lay woodlands. The meadow looked like grazing herbivores of some description had recently been giving it some serious attention.

The cobblestone way did not extend beyond the dirt track.

While Jackson and Carter debated the choice open to them and Teal'c examined the dirt track more closely, O'Neill dug out his field glasses and checked out the meadow area and the tree line beyond it; just in case anything was lurking that might have hostile intentions.

"Colonel O'Neill, I believe the most recent tracks go in that direction," Teal'c announced, straightening and moving to O'Neill's side. He indicated the direction as O'Neill lowered his field glasses.

"Okay, kids. Unless anyone has any better ideas, we're going that-a-way," O'Neill decided, adjusting his cap and putting his dark glasses back on. "Teal'c, you take point. Move out."

*************************

Some while later, O'Neill was back on point. The track had descended through woodland into a steep sided gully-like passage through rock. An uneasy feeling was raising the hairs at the back of O'Neill's neck. In response he slowed the pace and Carter moved up alongside him, having observed the subtle change in his demeanour.

"Colonel?" she inquired.

"Is it just me, or do you get the feeling we're being watched?" O'Neill said quietly.

"I don't see any sign of anything, sir," Carter confessed, looking carefully up the sides of the gully.

"Don't mean no-one's out there, Captain," O'Neill responded, slowing further and doing a slow 180-degree turn. He walked backwards for a few paces before turning the other 180 degrees and resuming walking forwards again. "Teal'c..."

"Yes, O'Neill?" The Jaffa responded. He too was scanning the sides of the gully warily.

"Seem like a good place for a trap to you?" O'Neill asked conversationally over his shoulder.

"It does," the Jaffa agreed succinctly.

"Then what say we don't walk into one, kids," the ex-Special Forces officer said. "Teal'c, you take that side. Carter, you go up there." He directed the twosome to the ridges overlooking the track on either side. "Daniel, you stay behind me and stay close."

The team split up as instructed, Carter and Teal'c scrambling up the sides of the gully and disappearing into the rocks and shrubbery. O'Neill waited a few moments with Daniel hovering uneasily at his back to give the others time to get into covering positions before he resumed his slow, steady pace.

"You don't really think we're in danger, do you, Jack?" Daniel asked quietly. He had learned to respect O'Neill's instincts in the field; even when they seemed a little crazy.

"Hopin' not," O'Neill responded blandly. He used his radio. "Carter...Teal'c...You guys there yet?"

"Seems clear this side, Colonel," Carter's voice responded first. Then Teal'c reported,

"It is clear here, O‘Neill."

"Okay, kids. Let's stay alert, shall we?" O'Neill told them.

It was only a very short while later that Carter's voice crackled over the radio. "Colonel, I have movement up here!" Barely a second later there was a shrieking cry of alarm.

"HUNTERS! HUNTERS!"

"Sir! I think it's a young boy!" Carter's voice came again.

"Well, follow him, Carter!" O'Neill ordered, focusing his attention on Carter's side of the track where crashing movement could be heard on the ridge above.

"Is that wise, Jack?"

"I need to know who he's warning and why, Daniel," O'Neill pointed out, grabbing Jackson by the arm and pulling him to the side of the track to prevent him from being such an easy target from above. "Teal'c? Anything?"

"All is quiet here, O'Neill."

It had gone suddenly quiet on Carter's ridge.

"Carter?" O'Neill spoke with quiet urgency. "Carter?" He repeated more urgently when no reply was immediately forthcoming. This time he got a response.

"Sorry, Colonel, I seem to have lost him. It's like the woods just swallowed him up."

"Damn," O'Neill muttered, then into the radio mike he instructed. "Okay, proceed with caution. They know we're coming now."

Presently Teal'c's voice came over the radio. "O'Neill."

"Yeah, Teal'c?"

"The roadway ahead of you enters an open area past the bend you are approaching. There is a wagon. It appears to be disabled."

"Any people around?"

"There appears to be a human female and several young ones."

"Carter, did you get that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you see anything?"

"Not yet, sir. I'm about level with your current location."

"Teal'c, what's happening?" O'Neill questioned, approaching the bend in the trail and crossing the track to the Jaffa’s side. Daniel followed closely on his heels.

"Very little," Teal'c answered from his vantage point. "They appear to be waiting."

"Waiting?" O'Neill echoed.

"Yes, O'Neill."

"Okay," O'Neill made his decision. "Carter, Teal'c, you two stay on the high ground and cover us. Daniel and I will take a closer look."

"We will?" Daniel looked a little surprised.

"We now know who the kid was probably warning, Daniel. Aren't you curious to know why? And why they aren't running like hell about now?"

"Well, if you put it like that, yes."

"So let's go enquire," O'Neill said, moving off.

*************************

The scene was pretty much as Teal'c had described. The track left the gully and led out into an area of open ground where a wagon sat on the grass a short distance to one side of the trail. The wagon was indeed disabled, being short of one of its six wheels; a front wheel. Several children were in evidence under the main body of the wagon, while the figure of a lone female knelt back on her heels on the ground between the wagon and the track.

No-one moved as O'Neill and Daniel slowly, warily approached.

"You want to do the honours, Daniel?" O'Neill invited, scanning their surroundings carefully lest the tranquil scene was nothing more than enticing bait in some elaborate trap.

"Ah, yeah, right..." Daniel said as O'Neill halted. He stepped past the Colonel and, adopting as none threatening a manner as he could, he addressed the kneeling woman who appeared to be in her mid to late thirties.

"Ah, hello? I'm Daniel and this is Jack." He indicated the wary O'Neill. "We, ah, mean you no harm."

The woman inclined her head slightly to one side, clearly listening to him, but she said nothing.

"We’re ah, travellers...from a far, far away place," Daniel tried again, studying the woman carefully as he moved closer and dropped to a crouch in front of her. He was trying to place her cultural background from her clothing and her physical appearance, but could come up with nothing absolutely definitive. "Could you perhaps tell us if there is a town or a village near to here?"

The woman remained silent, her head still tilted slightly to one side, still clearly listening to him and quite unconcerned by his presence. Cautiously, Daniel extended a hand and waved it carefully in front of her face. She did not so much as blink in response.

"Er...Jack? I don't think she can see us. I think she's blind," the young archaeologist called over his shoulder.

That brought O'Neill in closer. The woman reacted to his quiet approach by rising to her feet and seeming to stare at him. He halted warily.

"Daniel?" He questioned, looking for some guidance on the situation as some of the children began to emerge from beneath the wagon.

"Er...I don't know, Jack," Daniel confessed, rising to his feet. "From her clothing and the general style of the wagon, I'd guess they're possibly of Romany origin...Er, gypsies," he elaborated at the questioning look O'Neill shot him. "But I don’t understand why there’s no sign of any men-folk. They wouldn’t leave a woman and children unprotected like this. Especially a blind woman..."

"Maybe there aren't any. Maybe she's a single mom," O’Neill suggested. He was becoming a little unsettled by the way the woman seemed to be staring at him, through him; into his very being.

Daniel didn't look convinced. Turning to the woman he asked politely, "Perhaps we might be of service to you? Perhaps we can help repair your wagon?"

At that, the woman turned and began to walk slowly but steadily towards the wagon with a gesture that the two men should follow her.

"We're not the Triple-A, Daniel," O'Neill observed.

"Well, she obviously understood what I said," Daniel pointed out in return and began to follow after the woman.

"Teal'c, Carter, we’re going in closer." O’Neill spoke into his radio. "Daniel just volunteered us to help out with fixin' the lady's wheels. Watch our backs."

"Got you covered, Colonel," Carter's voice came back.

"I too, O'Neill," came Teal'c's response.

O'Neill sighed and followed Daniel and the woman.

When they reached the wagon, O'Neill took the precaution of checking it for any concealed hostiles of any shape or form and found none. The children, six of them in total, whose ages appeared to range from around five to about twelve or thirteen, all watched him with wide eyes. He noted that while they did not actually run away from him, neither would they let him get within more than three or four feet of them and the two eldest - a boy and a girl - kept themselves between him and the younger ones. He smiled at them in a reassuring manner. "Hi, kids. How's it goin'?"

They didn't appear terribly impressed by that friendly overture; except for the smallest, a girl, who made a sudden dash out from behind her elders, deftly eluding the elder boy who made a grab for her.

"Hello, sweetheart," O'Neill lowered himself into a crouch, careful to keep the business end of his MP-5 pointed well away from the child. He took off his dark glasses.

The little girl inclined her head slightly and frowned at him, studying him intently.

"I'm Jack," O'Neill tried introducing himself. "And you'd be...?"

"Melia," the girl responded, still studying him intently.

"Melia?" O'Neill nodded as he spoke in gentle tones. "That's a pretty name." The little one beamed at him. "So, Melia, what are you and your...family, doing out here all alone like this?" He asked in a kindly, coaxing manner.

"Waiting," Melia responded simply.

"Uh huh. I see," O'Neill nodded slowly again. "And you'd be waiting for...? What? Your dad? Your uncle?"

The girl shook her head, took another couple of quick steps forward and suddenly threw her arms around O'Neill's neck, much to his surprise. He saw the elder of the boys take a slightly panic-stricken step forward, eyes blazing, when he put his arm around Melia and picked her up as he rose to his feet.

"It's alright, son, I won't hurt her," O'Neill assured the protective boy. "I won't hurt any of you." The boy just regarded him warily.

"I see you've made a conquest," Daniel remarked, coming around the end of the wagon at that moment.

"Daniel, this is Melia. Melia, this is my friend, Daniel," O'Neill said gently.

"Hello, Melia," Daniel smiled at the child, who, for reasons best known to herself, suddenly came over all shy and buried her face in O'Neill's shoulder. Daniel looked a little surprised, kids normally reacted well to him. "You, ah, got her to talk to you?" He asked the other man.

"Just her name and the fact that they're 'waiting' like Teal'c said."

"Waiting? Waiting for what?" Daniel wondered.

"Probably for some suckers like us to happen along to fix their wagon," O'Neill said dryly.

"Oh, yes...the wagon. I think we can fix it," Daniel said. "The wheel seems to be intact. It's just come off that's all. Ah, I think we might need Teal'c's help unless we want to give ourselves hernias though."

O'Neill nodded and followed Daniel around the side of the wagon. He used his radio en route.

"Okay, kids. Come join the party and bring your muscles. Daniel's lined up our good deed for the day."

*************************

Sam Carter tried her best to engage the blind woman in conversation as they sat by the campfire while the three male members of SG-1 did battle with the wagon and its errant wheel. She had the men's equipment packs and automatic weapons by her feet where she could keep them out of harm's way; the children's way in particular, despite their having shown little interest in the items. The blind woman, however, did not answer her although she gave every indication of listening carefully.

Beginning to get a little frustrated, Carter turned her attention to the children. The eldest of the four girls was busy stirring something in the large cooking pot which hung suspended over the merrily blazing fire. The elder boy was sitting on the grass a little distance away, watching all of the newcomers warily. Carter wasn't sure whether it was him she had caught a glimpse of earlier in the woods or not. Of the other four children, three were happily playing some sort of game together; whilst the one called Melia was sitting on the ground at the blind woman's feet. The child's attention was focused on the three SG-1 men, whom she was watching with an intensity that Carter found oddly disturbing in one so young.

Attempts to engage the eldest girl in conversation proved to be as fruitless as trying to get anything out of the blind woman, however. In the end, Carter gave up and settled for watching the men at work, which wasn't, she decided, an entirely unpleasant way to pass some time on such a nice warm, sunny day.

The wagon was proving heavier to lift high enough for the wheel to be slipped onto its axle than it looked, despite none of the men even coming close to qualifying as seven-stone weaklings. They had, after initial attempts at sheer brute force failed, set up a cantilever with a long, but sturdy length of wood they had scrounged up from the nearby woodlands and some rather large stones they had manoeuvred into a suitable position. Teal'c and O'Neill were hauling on the end of the cantilever whilst Daniel tried to set the wheel in place. All three were visibly working up a sweat.

Carter was coming to the conclusion that perhaps she ought to give them a hand when suddenly the elder boy got to his feet and sauntered over to the sweating twosome fighting with the cantilever end. O'Neill noticed the close-range audience.

"You just gonna’ stand there an’ gawp or you gonna’ wade in an’ help?" The Colonel wanted to know, his tone a tad cranky.

The boy regarded him steadily for a moment, then added his slight weight to the two men's combined muscle.

"Okay! Hold it there!" Daniel yelled delightedly a moment later as he wrestled with the errant wheel. "Hold it ... Hold it... Just a little longer... Hold it..."

"For cryin' out loud, Daniel, get a move on!" O'Neill yelled irritably. "We don't have all day here ya' know!"

"Got it!" Daniel called back a moment later. "Okay, guys, you can let it down now - slowly!"

"Well that was fun, kids..." O'Neill observed dryly some moments later as he tried to ease the kinks out of his protesting back muscles.

Teal'c looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow, but decided that O'Neill didn't expect to receive an answer to the remark.

"Appreciate the help there, kid - eventually," O'Neill told the boy as the four of them adjourned to the campfire. "Name's Jack by the way. Jack O'Neill."

The boy merely looked up at him for a moment, then nodded before walking away.

"Talkative bunch, aren't they?" O'Neill commented. "Ah... brunch..." he observed as he discovered the eldest girl was offering him a bowlful of whatever the contents of the cooking pot were. "Thank you," he smiled pleasantly at her. "I think..." he muttered under his breath as he eyed the concoction a little dubiously. As he sat down, he realised the girl was watching him expectantly. He cast a questioning look at Daniel.

"I think she's waiting for your approval before anyone else gets to eat," Daniel said discreetly.

"Ah..." O'Neill said. Why do I always get to try these concoctions first? He smiled pleasantly at the girl, then cautiously tried a spoonful. It was definitely a stew of some sort, but the contents were not readily identifiable. "Good..." he announced with genuine surprise and approval however once he'd swallowed the initial mouthful down.

Looking pleased by the man's approval, the girl began ladling stew into other bowls which got passed first to Teal'c, then to Daniel and then to Carter. She then served the blind woman, by which time all the other youngsters had assembled into an orderly queue and they received their portions in order of descending age, although the girl only served herself after everyone else had been given theirs.

The youngsters then all settled down together behind the blind woman with the notable exception of little Melia, who solemnly settled herself at O'Neill's feet.

**************************

After the meal was finished and had been washed down by a hot herbal brew which the eldest girl made and distributed, O'Neill announced that the team should get their gear together and prepare to move out.

Daniel, of course, promptly raised objections about leaving a blind woman and six kids out in the middle of nowhere. O'Neill pointed out in return that the family had obviously gotten itself out there in the first place and now that their wagon was repaired, they could probably continue on their way to wherever quite happily by themselves.

"Now thank the lady for brunch, Daniel, and let's get going," O'Neill's tone indicated that he wasn't about to hold a full-scale debate on the issue. "Or do I need to make it an order?" He saw Daniel subside, reluctantly. "Good."

Rising carefully so as not to disturb little Melia, who had curled up and gone to sleep at his feet, O'Neill stepped away from where he had been sitting and collected up his gear.

To the puzzlement of the rest of the SG-1 team, the blind woman rose to her feet and navigated accurately around them. She ignored Daniel as he attempted to do as O'Neill had instructed and thank her for the meal they had shared. She went straight over to O'Neill and, as he looped the strap of his MP-5 diagonally over his shoulder, she planted herself squarely in front of him.

The other SG-1 team members exchanged looks which basically said; Oh-oh, this could be interesting.

"Ma'am?" O'Neill frowned at the woman as she seemed to stare right into his very soul with her sightless eyes; it was a feeling he had experienced several times whilst they had all been eating and he found it very disconcerting. An odd shiver ran up his spine. He began to take an involuntary step backwards as the woman extended a hand towards him, but he caught himself in time and held his ground. He regarded her warily as she placed her hand flat on his chest in the region of his heart.

"Er... Ma'am... What are you doing?" He asked dubiously, but still holding his ground despite feeling even more unsettled by the woman and her penetrating blind gaze. She then stunned him totally by saying quietly, but quite distinctly.

"You will find only danger if you remain in this land, old friend. Return to the doorway and go home before the Hunters come."

O'Neill's jaw dropped. He stared, for once totally speechless.

Carter, Jackson and Teal'c exchanged looks which ran a whole gamut of expressions in only seconds. It was Carter who was the first to recover enough to speak. "So you can speak," she observed, approaching the woman and the still stunned O'Neill.

"When I so choose," the blind woman answered, but her words were directed at O'Neill, who still hadn't moved so much as a muscle.

"So why choose now rather than say anything when we first got here?" Daniel questioned, advancing to stand beside Carter.

"Because I was not sure if you were the one for whom I waited." The blind woman again addressed herself to O'Neill. "But now I am," she concluded and withdrew her hand from his chest.

"The 'one' for whom you waited?" Daniel questioned, frowning.

"Colonel?" Carter regarded O'Neill with some concern. "Are you alright, sir?"

"Uh... Yeah..." he responded, not sounding entirely convinced about it.

"There is another, but he will come only if you remain." The sightless woman again addressed herself to O'Neill. "Go back now, old friend, through the Gate to the First World where you both belong. Go, before the Hunters come."

"Old friend?" Daniel's eyebrows rose. "Ahh, Jack...?"

"Beats the heck outta' me..." O'Neill shrugged, totally confused by the entire situation.

"Wait a minute," Carter endeavoured to get a handle on things. "Are you saying you know the Colonel? From where? And how do you know we came through the Stargate? We never told you that. And how do you know about the First World?"

"Those with eyes generally see far less than I do with none. Thus it has always been," the blind woman responded cryptically.

"Alright. That's it. We're outta' here," O'Neill had had enough of the entire situation. Picking up his pack, he began to walk away while still hauling the thing up onto his back and settling it comfortably into place.

"Jack, wait!" Daniel pleaded, caught in the midst of a dilemma. He wanted to stay and talk with this mysterious blind woman, find out more about her; not to mention what exactly she was talking about. On the other hand he didn't want to be left behind.

"Let's go, Daniel," O'Neill responded over his shoulder. He was definitely leaving. Now.

"But... but..." Daniel spluttered. He looked to Carter for help, but she just shrugged and went to collect her gear.

"Go, Daniel," the blind woman told him. "Before it is too late."

"These ah, Hunters...Who are they?" Daniel asked as he went to collect his gear, determined to make a last-ditch attempt at getting hold of some possibly vital information before he had to leave.

"They are what they are," the blind woman answered. "If you encounter them they will try to kill you."

"But why?" Daniel wanted to know. "Why would they want to do that? Are they Goa'uld?"

"They have Dark Souls," the woman answered simply. "Now go. Quickly."

Daniel looked around and saw that O'Neill was already heading down the track, Carter following him. Teal'c however, was hanging back, clearly waiting for him to catch up.

"Where do the Hunters come from?" Daniel called as he began to slowly retreat after his colleagues.

"They come through the doorway."

That information sent a cold shiver through Daniel Jackson.

"Thank you!" He called back before turning and hurrying after the others.

*********************

"It looks pretty deserted," Carter observed.

"Yeah..." O'Neill responded noncommittally as he studied the cluster of buildings through his field glasses.

The SG-1 team had moved to cover at one side of the track they had been following for the past few hours and were surveying what lay ahead of them in the middle of wide-open ground.

"I concur," Teal'c offered.

"So we're going to take a closer look, right?" Daniel asked hopefully.

O'Neill lowered his field glasses. He didn't look too happy.

"Colonel?" Carter enquired, regarding her superior expectantly for his decision. She saw his pensive expression. "What is it?"

For some moments O'Neill didn't respond, then he decided, "Okay, campers. Move out. We'll take a look, but watch yourselves."

SG-1 advanced into the village, Daniel waxing lyrical about the design and construction of the buildings which were, according to him, a mishmash of cultural styles that ought not to be standing together. O'Neill let him carry on, but didn't really pay much attention to the lecture. To him the buildings were just an assortment of glorified log cabins with thatched roofs and they could be hiding heaven only knew what kinds of threats to his team.

"This is spooky," Carter observed as they made their way towards what appeared to be the village square. Absolutely nothing was stirring. There were no indications that anyone had lived there in quite some time.

"Daniel, stay here, the rest of us will check out some of these buildings," O'Neill ordered. "And kids, watch your step. I got a bad, baad feeling here. Be back here in thirty." With that, he moved off in the direction of one of the nearest buildings.

Teal'c and Carter also moved off. Daniel ignored instructions and followed O'Neill, catching up with the ex-Special Forces man as he cautiously approached the partially open door of the building he had elected to check out himself.

O'Neill automatically moved to the open side of the door and, keeping his body shielded by the wall, he peered briefly and cautiously through the narrow opening. Then, discovering that Jackson had followed him and was on a direct line of approach to the door, he reached out and grabbed him, unceremoniously yanking him away from the suspect opening.

Daniel yelped in startled indignation as he landed in a heap in the dirt beside the crouching O'Neill who was leaning back against the house wall by then, glaring at him.

"I told you to wait in the square," O'Neill snapped angrily. "You got a death wish or what?"

"Don't you think perhaps you're being a bit over-cautious?" Daniel protested as he picked himself up to crouch beside the older man whilst dusting himself down.

"You'd prefer dead?" O'Neill's tone was cutting. Without waiting for a response, he picked up a stick lying at his feet and used it to give the part open door a sharp push.

Daniel let out a yelp that was even more startled than before as a projectile shot through the opened doorway. He turned pale. The projectile would have taken him squarely in the chest had Jack not prevented him from opening the door.

"Guess that's another one I owe you." The archaeologist released a deep, slightly shaken breath as he stared at the projectile which had deeply embedded itself into a tall post some distance away.

"Carter...Teal'c..." O'Neill spoke into his radio. "Watch yourselves, we got trip-wires hooked up to some nasty surprises. Danny-boy nearly walked into one." He looked at the still pale archaeologist. "Stay," he ordered, his tone suggesting dire consequences and not necessarily from booby-traps, if the younger man disobeyed this time.

His confidence rattled by the close shave of moments before, Jackson just nodded silently.

O'Neill gave him another look, just to emphasis the point, before turning away and ducking around the doorway, hitting the floor in a roll and coming cautiously but smoothly up on one knee well clear of the entrance to do a rapid threat assessment of the room.

Outside, Daniel waited and chewed anxiously at his lip as he fought down the urge to go investigate the projectile that had so nearly killed him. Some moments passed before he heard O'Neill call his name. Cautiously, he poked his head around the doorway, staying low as he did so.

"Yeah, Jack?" He discovered O'Neill was examining an elaborate crossbow contraption that was set up on a wooden framework.

"You can come in now." O'Neill smiled sweetly.

*************************

When the SG-1 team reassembled in the village square and compared notes, the general consensus was that the place was indeed deserted and that it held nothing that was of any strategic value in Earth's on-going fight against the Goa'uld. The village's inhabitants had long since upped sticks and departed to parts unknown, leaving behind them a settlement littered with an interesting assortment of simple, but deadly, booby-traps.

O'Neill decided it was time to head back to the Stargate. No-one argued with him - for once - and Carter took the point.

After they had covered some distance, O'Neill announced it was time to leave the track and go across country.

"Why?" Was what Jackson promptly wanted to know.

"Short-cut," O'Neill informed him succinctly.

"O'Neill is correct," Teal'c stated. Like O'Neill, he had been making a mental map during the course of the outward journey from the Gate. The Colonel's proposed 'short-cut' would, while probably not actually getting them back to the Gate before nightfall, still cut a considerable distance off their journey, assuming they didn't get sidetracked or run into unforeseen difficulties en route.

The terrain was not that difficult to negotiate, alternating as it did between open grassland and woodland of varying degrees of density.

O'Neill kept an eye on the planet's sun, anticipating when sunset was likely to occur. As twilight began to descend and they came across a suitable site at the edge of a section of woodland, the Colonel called a halt to the trek and they set up camp for the night while there was still enough of the fast fading light for them to be able to see what they were doing.

As they ate a meal from their field rations and washed it down with some freshly brewed coffee, they talked over the day's various events. Carter and Jackson did most of the talking, tossing various theories back and forth about who or what 'The Hunters' were and where they might come from and if they were the reason for the deserted village they had discovered. Speculations also flowed with regards to the blind woman with the almost-Romany style wagon and the six children. Teal'c joined in the discussion from time to time, usually with a succinct response whenever one of the other two threw a question his way.

O'Neill, on the other hand, remained - unusually for him - very quiet and almost subdued, absorbed by his own thoughts and an incessantly nagging feeling of unease that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Something troubles you, O'Neill," Teal'c observed presently as he moved from the fireside to join the ex-Special Forces officer. The Colonel had, some five or ten minutes earlier withdrawn from the proximity of the camp fire and was standing near the edge of the tree-line, staring out into the night, a cup of half-consumed and by then cold coffee in his hands. His fingers were moving restlessly and he was slowly turning the cup around and around in a very absent manner.

"Lots of things trouble me, Teal'c. Price of beer these days for one..." he quipped, but it was a half-hearted attempt at levity and both men recognised it as so.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He merely stood at his human friend's side and waited, exuding an aura of timeless patience.

"Just can't seem to shake this bad feeling I got," O'Neill eventually said, his tone subdued as he continued to stare out into the darkness as if watching things only he could see in the night sky.

"I know," the Jaffa answered. His tone was such that it was impossible to tell if he was sharing the 'bad feeling' himself, or merely acknowledging that he was aware O'Neill was feeling 'twitchy'.

They continued to stand there together for several more moments before O’Neill seemed to snap out of his reverie with a quietly muttered, "Aw nuts..." before tossing away the dregs of his coffee and returning to the camp fire to announce that he would be taking the first watch.

*************************

MacGyver took a deep breath of the slightly chilly mountain air and stared up at the night sky. Unable to sleep, he had come up to the surface in the hope that a dose of fresh air might do the trick.

It wasn't as if he hadn't kept himself busy during the day. He had discovered that the passes O'Neill had secured for him granted him access to some of the base's laboratory facilities and he had spent quite a bit of time checking them out and talking with some of the Air Force technicians and boffins working in them. One or two who knew of his interest in things scientific and his reputation checked his security clearance with Hammond and then actually enlisted his help with some of the tests and experiments they were running. It had been interesting work and, as a result, the day had passed quickly.

And of course there had also been the three visits – no, four visits - to the infirmary; one for the blood tests Doctor Frasier wanted to run and the rest for his sessions with the physiotherapist.

Insomnia was not something that normally troubled the Phoenix Foundation's top problem solver. In fact, over the years, he had developed the knack of being able to sleep just about anywhere, any time. It was a necessary survival skill really for anyone in his line of work.

After much tossing and turning after he had gone to bed, however, he had realised sleep just wasn't going to come so he had dressed again and headed outside, not being much in the mood for company. And, unable to shake an oddly persistent feeling of disquiet, he just sat in the chill darkness, rubbing absently at his tender right knee and staring at the stars.

*************************

O'Neill lay staring up at the unfamiliar night sky with its twin moons. Teal'c had taken over the second watch from him nearly an hour before, but try as he might to nod off, sleep was proving maddeningly elusive. He sighed softly, closed his eyes and tried counting dead snakeheads. Well, it was worth a try; nothing else had worked so far.

The faintest rumbling sound and the slight trembling of the ground beneath him registered on O'Neill's senses just as he was about to finally drop off into a light doze. He was on full alert in an instant and on his feet only seconds later.

"Teal'c?" He called softly, looking around for the big Jaffa.

"I am here, O'Neill." The alien's voice came out of nearby shadows.

O'Neill made his way silently over to where the other man stood guard.

"It comes from that direction," Teal'c indicated as a sudden eerie blue-white glow rippled in the far distant darkness.

"The Stargate..." O'Neill breathed, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.

*************************

"Oh this is getting ridiculous..." MacGyver muttered in disgust, throwing back the bedcovers and half-hopping, half-limping into the bathroom to get a drink of water.

He had finally felt sleepy enough to return to his quarters and settle down for what remained of the night, only to be rudely awakened after only about an hour by one doozy of a nightmare in which he was being chased by strange creatures with weirdly glowing eyes and snakes in their stomachs. And somewhere in the midst of it all, there was a big glowing circle of swirling blue-white water; only it wasn’t water, it was something else entirely.

And a mysterious blind woman...

And...And he had been falling off a cliff, a very high cliff, when, thankfully, he had awakened in a state of unadulterated panic and sheer terror.

MacGyver splashed some water on his face. That feels better.

He eyed the bottle of pills he had been given by Doctor Frasier and checked the label, wondering if they were in some way responsible. There was nothing sinister to be gleaned from the label, just standard antibiotics he'd had often enough before without any odd side-effects. Opening the bottle he shook some of the capsules out into his hand and examined them. They looked innocuous enough. He tipped them back into the bottle, regarded himself in the shaving mirror for some moments and sighed deeply.

"Keep this up, MacGyver and they'll be carting you away to a nice quiet padded room somewhere..."

He splashed some more cold water on his face and rubbed the back of his neck with his wet hands before reaching for a towel and drying off before half-limping, half-hopping back to bed.

*************************

"So who do you suppose it was who used the Gate last night?" Daniel Jackson inquired of his colleagues over breakfast shortly after the sun had started to come up.

"And were they arriving or leaving?" Carter voiced the other major question of the morning. She and Daniel had managed to sleep through the Gate activation.

"Perhaps the 'Hunters' that were spoken of yesterday," Teal'c suggested.

"Hopefully, we'll never know," O'Neill said as he busied himself with stowing some of his gear away in his backpack.

"Aren't you even just a little bit curious, Colonel?" Carter looked a little surprised.

"Look what curiosity did for the cat, Captain," was O'Neill's dry response as he turned his attention to checking his weapons. "Don't know 'bout you, but I've already used up at least ten."

"Ten?" Daniel frowned. "But cats are only supposed to have nine lives, aren't they?"

"Now you're catchin' on, Daniel," O'Neill said.

"I do not understand," Teal'c looked bemused. "What do felines have to do with this mission? And do they not live only once as we do?"

"It's ah, just an expression, Teal'c. Curiosity killed the cat...Cat with nine lives..."

"But it makes no sense," Teal'c frowned.

Daniel took up the challenge of explaining and by the time he was done, O'Neill had stripped down, cleaned and reassembled both his MP-5 and his side-arm - twice.

************************

Once they broke camp and had obliterated all traces of having ever even been there, the SG-1 team resumed its cross-country hike in the direction of the Stargate.

"God...What's that smell...?" It was Daniel who made the observation as a strong breeze picked up and rustled through the woodland, carrying with it a rather nauseating aroma.

"It is the smell of death," Teal'c observed as the team halted and sniffed cautiously at the air.

"Oh yeaah..." O'Neill agreed, resolutely quashing the numerous downright unpleasant memories the smell evoked. "Stay here, people, I'll check it out." No need for them to see any of this if it's what I think it is...

"I will accompany you, O'Neill," Teal'c volunteered, his tone indicating that he knew as well as O'Neill what the ghastly smell meant, but that he had made his mind up on the matter and wasn't about to let the other man face it alone.

O'Neill regarded him steadily for a moment, then nodded and the two of them headed upwind through the trees.

"Aah God..." was O'Neill's disgusted reaction as he and Teal'c presently found a large clearing and the rotting corpses it contained. Battle hardened though he was, the ex-Special Forces man had to look away for a few moments after his initial glimpse of the scene and struggled to keep his stomach under control. Even Teal'c seemed to grimace as he too took in the scene that greeted them.

Steeling themselves and covering their mouths and noses, the two men advanced slowly. There were bodies everywhere. Men...Women...Even some children. Some had clearly been killed outright; mostly these were the women and children killed by a single metal bolt through the heart or head. Although perhaps executed was a more accurate term, for their hands had been bound behind them when they had died.

Then there were those who had not been granted such a relatively merciful quick end. These were, without exception, men. Some had been tied, spread-eagled to frameworks and clearly used for target practice. Others garrotted. Others had clearly endured an assortment of things far worse.

As atrocity sites went, it was among the worst O'Neill had ever encountered and he had seen perhaps more than his fair share of downright butchery over the years. He counted upwards of about fifty bodies in all, all in varying stages of advancing decomposition.

"There's nothing we can do here, Teal'c," he stated grimly, fighting to keep the bile from rising and choking him.

"It was not Goa'uld technology that killed these people," the Jaffa stated, looking as disgusted as O'Neill had ever seen him look as they picked their way carefully back through the carnage.

"No," the Colonel agreed. "It was sheer, bloody butchery." The venom in his voice was so thick it would have taken a chain-saw to cut it.

As they reached the edge of the clearing, they found Carter and Jackson had followed them. Carter was looking distinctly green and was staring intently at the jagged stump of a fallen tree, whilst Daniel was in some bushes, losing his breakfast.

"One of these days, Daniel, when I tell you to stay put somewhere, you'll actually do as you're told," O'Neill observed acidly as the sounds of retching subsided. "And I'll probably die of shock..." he added as the pale-faced archaeologist emerged into view, studiously averting his gaze away from the death-ridden clearing.

************************

It was thus a very subdued SG-1 team that eventually approached the edge of the woodland bordering on the earthworks surrounding the Stargate. The sounds of activity that they heard made them approach the area with extreme caution. After checking carefully for any sign of guards patrolling the crest, or near to the crest, of the earthworks, the team scrambled as quietly as they could manage up the slope, flattening themselves to the ground as they neared the top. Cautiously they peered over the crest.

"Oh my..." O'Neill muttered and expelled a large breath of air.

"Whoa..." Carter muttered, eyes widening.

"There seems to be an awful lot of them," Daniel muttered. "Whoever they are..."

"I concur," Teal'c said.

It looked like a small army had set up camp in the area in front of the Stargate.

"Well, whatever they are, they're not human." O'Neill had his field glasses out.

The ground began to shake and a distinctive rumble began to permeate the air.

"Don't suppose they're leaving..." O'Neill muttered as the Stargate activated. "Nope. Knew we couldn't be that lucky. We got more incomin'." He observed as the Stargate disgorged more aliens leading large quadrupeds that were vaguely equine-like; apart from the dragon-like heads that were revealed as hoods were pulled off them.

"An invasion?" Carter postulated.

"Ya' think?" O'Neill gave her a look.

"Er...Guys... How are we going to get through the Stargate?" Daniel asked hesitantly as if hating to have to be the one to raise the delicate subject.

"Now that's an interestin' question," O'Neill conceded, sweeping the area again with his field glasses. "Don't suppose anyone's got an interestin' answer...?"

"Maybe if we wait a while they'll move out," Carter offered hopefully.

"And the moon is made of green cheese," O'Neill remarked, which evoked a raised eyebrow look from Teal'c. "No, these guys don't look like they're in any hurry to be going anywhere." He handed his field glasses to Teal'c. "Any ideas who, or what, they are, Teal'c?"

The Jaffa studied the aliens for some moments through O'Neill's binoculars before stating. "I have not encountered them before, but I believe them to be the Ha'gell."

"And they'd be...?" O'Neill encouraged.

"Goa'uld," Teal'c matter-of-factly dropped his bombshell as he handed the field glasses back to their owner.

"Oh great... It just gets better and better." The look on O'Neill's face couldn't have been more eloquent if he had tried. "Teal'c, we need to have a little chat, but not out here."

They all slithered back down the slope and retreated into the cover afforded by the woodlands.

"Alright, Teal'c, who the hell are these Haggles?" O'Neill demanded.

"Ha'gell," Teal'c corrected.

"Whatever..." O'Neill was a little impatient. "Who are they and what are they doing here?"

"They are a Goa'uld sect that lies outside the control of the System Lords," Teal'c stated. "They do not take human hosts."

"This is good," Daniel observed brightly. "Isn't it?" He looked from the Jaffa to the Colonel and back in response to the looks they both gave him.

"They consider Humans too soft and weak to serve as satisfactory hosts," Teal'c stated. O'Neill looked mildly affronted but before he could comment, Carter leapt in with.

"Well, for a soft, weak race, we've not done so badly against the Goa'uld so far," she pointed out. Teal'c inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment of that fact.

"So what are they?" Daniel questioned, gesturing towards the enemy encampment. "The hosts I mean."

"The Komlek," Teal'c answered. "They have great physical strength."

"A bunch of body-builders. Terrific..." O'Neill muttered darkly.. "Okay, so they don't take human hosts which means they're here because...?"

"They like to hunt intelligent prey for sport."

"Uh-huh..." O'Neill said slowly, his expression more eloquent than any smart aleck remark could ever have managed to be.

"Then they must be 'the Hunters' the blind woman warned us about," Carter said.

"It would seem likely, Captain Carter," Teal'c nodded sagely.

"Who will probably try to kill us on sight," Daniel Jackson looked sick. He regarded O'Neill. "We're in big trouble here, aren't we, Jack?"

"Nonsense, Daniel. All we have to do is keep them busy while we use the Gate," O'Neill responded with unnerving confidence, as if the task were no more difficult a thing than breathing. "Have a little faith, Danny-boy. Should be a piece of cake."

Now Daniel Jackson was really worried. O'Neill was exuding that aura that always seemed to emerge around him when he had a plan in mind that bordered somewhere on the crazy side of downright insane but which he fully expected to get away with!

*************************

"You look tired, Mac," Janet Frasier observed in her best critically clinical manner as she studied the man sitting on the examination table in front of her. "I hope you weren't overdoing things yesterday."

"No, Doc, just a bad night, is all," MacGyver sighed honestly and wiped a hand over his face.

"The leg?" Frasier asked with concern.

"Aah...not really," MacGyver answered truthfully. "Nightmare." And then shifted uncomfortably as if embarrassed by the admission.

"I see..." Frasier said. "You suffer a lot from nightmares?"

"Aah...not really," MacGyver responded. "I mean, no more than you'd expect, if ya' know what I mean."

"For someone in your line of work, you mean," Frasier regarded the Phoenix operative critically. MacGyver shifted a little as if slightly embarrassed again. Frasier proceeded to check his blood pressure. "Hmmm..." She said and made a notation in his chart file. She donned her stethoscope. "You want to lose the T-shirt for me, please?" She requested. MacGyver always hated being poked and prodded by medics, but knowing that Frasier was only doing her job he obliged and sat patiently as she listened to his heart and lungs. "So, this nightmare that kept you awake last night, do you remember what it was about?" She asked as she made some more notations and MacGyver pulled his borrowed T-shirt back on.

"It was a doozy," MacGyver said shaking his head at the memory.

"Go on..." Frasier encouraged, still scribbling. When the man didn't respond, she looked up at him. "That bad, huh?"

"Weird more than anything else," MacGyver sighed and rubbed his hand over his jaw. He inclined his head slightly to one side and asked. "No padded rooms?"

"Okay..." Frasier smiled with some amusement at him. It took all her medical training however, to enable her to keep from revealing her surprise as she listened to MacGyver describe what he could recall of his nightmare.

"So, whaddya' think, Doc? Certifiable or what?" MacGyver finished his recounting with a wry smile.

Frasier smiled back. "Oh I don't think so, Mac. I'm no expert, but it could just be some kind of delayed reaction to all the various things you've been through lately. I understand the job you were doing when you were shot was a pretty high stress situation and it was several hours before you were able to get proper treatment for those injuries. Then before you were fully recovered from that trauma, there was that situation at Phoenix and then you were sent here..." She frowned slightly as she looked at him. "Stress like that has got to be unloaded somehow. I guess your subconscious just went into overdrive and threw out that nightmare at you."

"Ya' think?" MacGyver looked dubious. Those particular words combined with the expression on his face threw Frasier. She stared at him. That, in turn, threw MacGyver slightly. "What?" He asked bewilderedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Frasier shook her head apologetically. "It's just that for a moment there... Well, you just strongly reminded me of Colonel O'Neill."

MacGyver looked contrite. "Sorry."

"Oh no, don't apologise, it's not your fault. It's just it's a little eerie how alike the two of you are sometimes and I don't just mean in looks," Frasier responded. Then she got a grip on herself. "Listen. I'd like to do some more blood tests, if you don't mind?"

"Doc, if you take much more blood outta' me, you're gonna' end up sticking me back on one of those drips again," MacGyver complained good-naturedly.

"Is that a yes, or a no?" Frasier enquired.

MacGyver sighed and held out his left arm.

*************************

"So, what are you telling me, Doctor?" General Hammond sat back in his chair and regarded Doctor Frasier.

"That's the whole point, sir. I'm not entirely sure," Frasier shifted a little uneasily.

"People have nightmares all the time," Hammond stated. "Lord knows I've had a few myself since I got assigned here. You said yourself the man has been through a lot of recent trauma."

"It's not so much that he had a nightmare, sir, it's the fact that what he described to me was so related to what the SGC is all about. He accurately described things he could not possibly have any knowledge of; the circle of blue-white glowing water that wasn't water, that sounds like an active Stargate. The aliens with glowing eyes and snakes inside them; doesn’t that sound like Goa’ulds to you, sir?"

"Could all just be wild coincidence, Doctor," Hammond said.

"I realise that, General, but over the past few days I think I've gotten to know Mr. MacGyver a little bit and I have to say that in some ways he is so like Colonel O'Neill it's sometimes hard to tell which one I'm talking to."

"I hope you're not trying to tell me that you think Mr. MacGyver has been inside this base before, masquerading as Colonel O'Neill?" Hammond looked at the Doctor as if considering the possibility that she had become a 'Section 8' - insane.

"No, sir, not at all," Frasier said quickly. "What I am saying is they seem to have the same attitudes and reactions to a lot of things. When Mr. MacGyver came in for his check-up this morning he was like...how can I describe it? Well, aside from being tired, I got the impression he was wired tighter than a drum underneath that laid-back exterior, just the same way the Colonel sometimes is. So I did another set of blood tests..."

"And?"

"And his adrenaline level is all over the place. Yesterday when I ran the same tests, his adrenaline levels were pretty much what I expected."

"So you're telling me there's a problem?"

"General, I honestly don't know."

"Have you considered the possibility that maybe all it is is a touch of claustrophobia?" Hammond asked. "Being in the bowels of a mountain like this can get to some people after a little while you know."

"No, Mr. MacGyver's not claustrophobic," Frasier shook her head. "If he has a problem with anything, it's with heights not enclosed spaces. I also considered the possibility that it could have something to do with the Colonel being out in the field..."

"And?"

"Mr. MacGyver assures me that if he worried every time Colonel O'Neill was off somewhere on an assignment, he would have been a ‘basket-case’ - to use his own expression - years ago. Given the Colonel's track record from his medical file alone, I'd have to agree with Mr. MacGyver's assessment on that score."

"Some form of ESP then?" Hammond suggested.

"I'm afraid I'm a sceptic when it comes to that sort of thing, General," Frasier shrugged. "Look, sir, I just thought you ought to be made aware of the facts as I know them to date."

Hammond considered the Doctor's statement then sighed deeply before saying. "Consider me duly aware, Doctor."

"Thank you, sir. With your permission I'll get back to the infirmary."

"Of course, Doctor." As Frasier reached the office door, however, Hammond spoke again. "Nightmares aside, how's the man doing?"

"Oh he's doing just fine, sir. The infection seems to have completely cleared and the leg laceration is healing well. In fact I'll probably take the stitches out in another couple of days. And he seems to be responding well to the physiotherapy on that knee joint."

"Good. Thank you, Doctor. Dismissed."

"Sir."

Hammond continued to sit back in his chair, pondering for a little while on all that the Doctor had told him, then he shook his head, reached for his pen and resumed the paperwork he'd been attending to prior to Fraiser's appearance in his office.

*************************

Sam Carter checked her wristwatch, then looked at Daniel Jackson. "It's time," she told him. "You ready?"

"No," the archaeologist responded, swallowing nervously, "but I guess we don't have much choice, do we?" He saw the sympathetic look on the woman's face, but also her own inner tension. "Lead on," he sighed.

Carter nodded and they moved out, circling the outside of the earthworks until they reached the breach that lay to the rear of the Stargate. To get around to the lip of the breach, they had to negotiate the steep side of the earthwork with great care, for the breach opened directly onto the edge of a sheer cliff-face that dropped down into a lake. One false step, one slip and it would be a long way down. Thus the SG-1 comrades exercised great care as they made their way round to the lip of the breach. Once they had successfully made it to the opening, they sank to their bellies in the tall grass.

"Now remember..." Carter cautioned. "Take it nice and easy. We've got plenty of time to cover the distance. Okay?"

Daniel blew out a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay, let's get started," Carter said and proceeded to crawl slowly forward through the long grass, taking care to cause as little obvious disturbance as possible.

They presently reached the outer ring of standing stones. Jackson stayed flat as Carter cautiously rose up into a crouch behind the stone they had been aiming towards and peered around the side of it over the top of the long grass.

"It's still clear," she reported to her companion.

"You do know this is completely crazy, don't you?" Jackson asked, the worry in his eyes unmistakable.

"Yeah," Carter nodded then she smiled tautly at him. "So crazy we might just get away with it. C'mon." Ducking down and flattening herself to the ground again, she led the crawl towards the inner ring of standing stones.

Daniel Jackson sighed deeply a couple of times and set off after her again.

The twosome made it safely to their goal and once again the archaeologist stayed down whilst Carter eased herself up behind the cover of the standing stone and did a quick survey of what lay ahead of them. She then turned her back to the stone and slid down it to sit and consult her watch.

"How’re we doing?" Jackson asked quietly.

"Doing fine. Plenty of time yet," Carter responded, taking a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. "C'mon. Last stretch before the big one."

Dropping down again, Carter set off through the long grass, leading the way towards the back of the Stargate itself. This time though, they moved even more slowly and more carefully than before.

To Daniel it seemed like hours passed before they were pressing themselves up against the back wall of the platform upon which the Stargate sat. His heart was thumping and it was all he could do to keep from shaking with nerves as he and Carter sat side by side and waited. And waited... And waited... It was agonising.

Then, just as the sun started to slip down behind the distant mountain range, a loud explosion rent the air. It was right in the midst of the enemy encampment.

"That's our cue, Daniel! Go!" Carter ordered, rising to her feet, MP-5 at the ready. Her companion didn't need telling twice. He was swiftly on his feet and sprinting towards the unattended D.H.D. as a second explosion erupted, adding to the chaos starting to engulf the enemy encampment.

"Move it, Daniel!" Carter snapped as Jackson skidded to a messy halt, nearly falling over in his haste, as he reached the D.H.D. and quickly began to scan the glyphs arranged around it.

"I'm moving! I'm moving!" He responded tersely and started dialling just as the sound of staff weapon discharge accompanied by an outbreak of automatic weapon fire added to the sound of more explosions.

The inner ring of the Stargate began to move as, one by one, the glyphs Daniel selected locked into place. He hit the central activator dome and seconds later the wormhole established with a great rumble and roar that seemed to shake everything within the confines of the earthwork circle.

The two SG-1 comrades bolted towards the base of the Gate's ramp as soon as the familiar rippling surface of the entrance to the wormhole settled into place.

"Send the codes!" Carter ordered, her back to the Gate as she covered the alien encampment with her weapon. Normally she tended to be the one to send the G.D.O. signal that would ensure the opening of the defensive iris on the Earth Stargate, but on this occasion on O'Neill's orders, she had relinquished the task to Daniel so that she could concentrate on defending them both as necessary. Daniel was operating the transmitter device even as Carter spoke.

"Done," he reported, then looked over his shoulder. "I don't see Teal'c or Jack!" He observed worriedly.

*************************

General Hammond hurried into the control room as the Sergeant on duty was issuing the standard alert warning over the base P.A. system.

"What have we got?" The General demanded, coming to a halt beside the Sergeant even as the wormhole finished establishing itself. "Is it SG-1? They're not due back until tomorrow."

"I don't know yet, sir," the Sergeant responded, keeping an eye on the signal monitor. "No I.D. signal so far..." Nothing was registering on the monitor. Then that changed. "Correction. We're receiving SG-1 codes..."

"Open the iris!" Hammond ordered, heading for the exit even as security teams poured into the Gate Room below and took up their standard defensive positions.

*************************

"Here they come!" Carter yelled as she spotted two familiar figures emerging from the chaos that was the enemy encampment, tossing a mixture of smoke and explosive grenades around them. "Daniel, go!"

Teal'c and O'Neill threw a hail of weapon-fire into the billowing smoke clouds.

"Daniel!" Carter snapped. "GO! NOW!"

Daniel hesitated only a moment longer then ran up the ramp. He paused in front of the wormhole and looked back. The aliens were returning fire from the smoky chaos that was their encampment and a full fire-fight was underway.

"C'mon, guys..." he muttered anxiously. "C'mon..."

Teal'c and O'Neill reached the inner ring of stones, still firing. Carter joined in at that point, laying down covering fire for her two comrades.

Some of the aliens' retaliatory fire started to get a bit too close for comfort, but assured that his companions would shortly be right behind him, Daniel turned and stepped into the Gateway.

*************************

Moments later he stepped out into the SGC to be greeted by the sight of the standard, fully armed, security reception committee and an anxious looking General Hammond.

"Hold your fire!" The General ordered, recognising Jackson. "Doctor Jackson, what's happened? SG-1 is not due back yet."

"We ah, ran into a little trouble, General," Jackson responded, reaching the bottom of the ramp and turning to watch for his colleagues, frantically hoping they would all be right behind him.

*************************

Carter had backed up to the mouth of the Gate where she crouched and continued to lay down covering fire.

Teal'c and O'Neill were still retreating.

Teal'c reached the foot of the ramp.

"CARTER! GO!" O'Neill yelled, a glance over his shoulder having confirmed that Carter was where she was supposed to be at that stage of the planned escape. He rammed a fresh clip into his MP-5 and opened up on a bunch of resolutely advancing aliens even as their return fire exploded around him with ever increasing intensity.

Carter twisted, turned and dove headfirst through the Gate-mouth.

*************************

Daniel automatically hurried forward to help Carter to her feet as she hurtled headfirst out of the wormhole and hit the ramp in an awkward forward roll.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she insisted, rubbing at her bruised left shoulder as Jackson helped her up and the two of them retreated back down the ramp.

"Where are the others?" Hammond demanded.

"Should be right behind me, sir," Carter responded, watching the Gate anxiously.

*************************

Teal'c retreated up the ramp, returning the enemy's fire as rapidly as he could and halted at the top, covering O'Neill's retreat towards the base of the ramp.

"TEAL'C! GO!" O'Neill yelled the order as he reached the foot of the crumbling stone ramp and dropped to a crouch to make a smaller target of himself as he fired upon the nearest of an approaching group of aliens. Then, rising and still firing as some of the aliens went down, he yelled. "I'm right behind you, Teal'c!" and turned to sprint up the ramp.

Confident that O'Neill would indeed be right behind him, Teal'c turned and stepped into the wormhole.

O'Neill's foot landed awkwardly in one of the ramp's numerous pot-holes and he went down. It probably saved his life though as a blast of energy more powerful than that of the ordinary staff weapons the majority of the aliens were using went ripping through the air above him. Had he been upright it would probably have vaporised him in an instant.

**************************

Teal'c emerged into the SGC, automatically stopping and turning after a few paces to look for O'Neill, whom he expected to be right on his heels.

Instead of O'Neill, a powerful blast of energy erupted from the event horizon, knocking the Jaffa off his feet and backwards over the side guard-rail as it sizzled past him.

Before anyone in the SGC could react, the blast barrelled into the control room with spectacularly explosive and devastating results.

*************************

O'Neill scrambled quickly to his feet as the world around him erupted with the concentrated fire of the enemy who had suddenly realised he was the only target they had left. He made no attempt to fire back, concentrating on sprinting the rest of the way up the ramp. He launched himself desperately at the wormhole, not caring that the landing at the other end would be hard - probably painfully so.

In the instant before he should have entered the event horizon the wormhole abruptly disengaged.

O'Neill hit ground alright, every bit as hard as he'd expected, only it wasn't the ramp at the SGC; it was the ground behind the back of the Stargate. There was a nasty, distinctive, snapping sound as he hit the dirt. An equally nasty, vicious stabbing pain shot through his right forearm in the same instant, forcing an involuntary cry of pain from him.

*************************

MacGyver had just completed his last session of the day with the base physiotherapist and was on his way out of the infirmary with the intention of going up to the mess hall for something to eat, when klaxons sounded and the red alert lights started to flash.

He was wondering what the heck was going on when the PA system came to life and a voice announced.

"Off-world activation. Security teams to the Gate Room! Security to the Gate Room!"

Then the klaxons died, although the red alert lights continued to flash.

The Phoenix operative was still wondering what was going on as he made his way along the corridor a few minutes later when the lights all winked out and everything was plunged into total darkness. It was a few seconds before the emergency lighting kicked in. In the same instant that the back-up lights came on the klaxon started up again; only it sounded a little rough around the edges.

"Emergency medical teams to the Control Room and the Gate Room! Damage control teams to the Control Room and the Gate Room!" A very shaken-sounding female voice sounded over the PA system, which crackled terribly.

MacGyver's reaction was automatic. He changed course and followed the medics who hurtled out of the infirmary armed with stretchers and emergency medical packs.

*************************

Nobody challenged the Phoenix operative as he trailed after the medical teams. He couldn't quite keep up with them, but he watched where they went and then just homed in on the sounds of military chaos and confusion. Thus it was that he found himself in the smoke-filled debris of what had once clearly been some sort of computer filled control centre. It looked like a bomb site. An assortment of smouldering debris was scattered everywhere. Stunned and bleeding personnel were sprawled on the floor or draped over the remnants of equipment.

Fire and damage control personnel were already busy dousing electrical fires and medics were tending to the most seriously injured casualties. Spotting an emergency first aid kit on a wall fitting, MacGyver grabbed it and went to help some of the less seriously injured who were in need of some first aid.

The Phoenix trouble-shooter was, as a result, still in the Control Room when a rather shaken General Hammond arrived on the scene. He was accompanied by a corpsman who was desperately trying to get him to stay still long enough to have some cuts on his face and hands attended to; injuries that had been caused by shards of flying glass.

"You folks sure know how to throw a wild party around here," MacGyver observed as another medic took charge of the injured airman he had been giving basic first aid to.

"Colonel, I don't - " Hammond began crankily in automatic response to the remark and the so-familiar-sounding voice that had uttered it. Then he realised who he was addressing. "What the hell are you doing in here? This is a highly restricted area! This is classified equipment!"

"It looks like an unrestricted mess to me, if you don't mind my saying so, General," MacGyver observed, unfazed by the military fury standing before him. Then he frowned concernedly. "You alright?" He asked, watching the corpsman setting to work now that Hammond had finally come to a halt.

"General Hammond, what are we going to do about Colonel O'Neill? We can't just leave him stranded back there." Daniel Jackson came hurrying up the stairs into the shattered control room. "We've got to do something to rescue him." He suddenly registered MacGyver's presence. "Oooops..." he said, realising he had probably just gone and put both feet quite firmly in it. Especially when he saw the expression that appeared on the Phoenix operative's face.

"Doctor Jackson," Hammond glowered warningly at the archaeologist and impatiently waved the hovering medic away from him.

"What about Jack O'Neill?" MacGyver wanted to know. There was concern mixed with determination in his dark eyes.

"It's classified," Hammond began with grim dismissal.

"Oh, come on, General, don't give me that old chestnut," MacGyver retorted with a distinct flare of anger. "What's happened to Jack? Where is he?"

"Mister MacGyver - " Hammond began, his own temper flaring. He had enough on his plate at that moment without needing to add a stroppy civilian to his list of problems - even if that civilian did have a Triple A-6 security clearance rating.

"Maybe I can help, General." MacGyver wasn't backing down. He was used to locking horns with military brass and it didn't scare him.

"We lost Jack on P4X-994," Jackson volunteered. He figured: the cat's already at least halfway out of the bag...might as well help it the rest of the way. Besides... MacGyver might well be able to help, although I have absolutely no idea how. "It’s a planet way, waay, out there..." He waved a hand expressively.

"Doctor Jackson, that is classified information!" Hammond thundered.

"He should have followed us home through the Stargate, but for some reason he didn't make it through before that energy blast did this," Daniel gestured at the debris around them, "and blew out the entire system." He continued rapidly. "I don't know why he didn't make it. He should have made it. He was right behind Teal'c. But if he's still alive back there, then he's in big trouble. Really big trouble."

"DOCTOR JACKSON!" Hammond nearly threw a fit.

"Oh, God, what a mess..." The stunned observation came from Sam Carter as she finally made it up to the wrecked Control Room and surveyed the massive damage that had been done.

"Then we better get this fixed and go get him, hadn't we?" MacGyver said, addressing Daniel, which didn't improve Hammond's disposition any. He turned to the irate General. "Whaddya' say, General?" He asked with disarmingly helpful congeniality. "Looks to me like you need all the help ya' can get right about now, an' fixin' things is kinda' what I do."

"I’ll take that under advisement, Mister," Hammond responded tautly, still visibly seething.

MacGyver just stood regarding the irate General with an expression of wide-eyed innocence that reminded the man so much of the missing Jack O'Neill, that it effectively deflated his burgeoning fury.

"This is going to take a helluva' lot more than a roll of duct tape and a ball of string, son," the General tautly pointed out, but he realised he was staring imminent defeat in the face.

"Yeah...but this place is military. That means you got spares for everything in triplicate. Kinda' gives me a bit more to work with, wouldn't ya' say?"

*************************

Jack O'Neill's training and survival instincts kicked in and he forced himself to his feet, pushing the pain from his arm to the back of his mind. He started to run, making the most of the sudden darkness the deactivation of the Stargate had caused, even though every step jarred his broken arm, making the pain harder to ignore.

It took the aliens a few moments to realise that their quarry hadn't escaped through the Gate, which granted O'Neill a little bit of a head start. Abruptly the sky was illuminated by something akin to flares and the chase was on.

To O'Neill's surprise he didn't attract a blitz of staff weapon fire. A glance over his shoulder showed him that the enemy was fanning out behind him, almost as if they were herding him. The ones at the outer edges showed every indication of trying to outflank him.

That spurred O'Neill to greater efforts to flee. If they were trying to box him in and weren't trying to blow him to smithereens, it had to mean they wanted him alive. He strongly suspected that life as a prisoner of these guys would be short and very unpleasant. He was damned if he was going to make it easy for them to catch him.

He realised the flankers on both sides were getting fractionally ahead of him. With some considerable difficulty - in view of his busted arm - he managed to get off a couple of quick bursts from his MP-5 at them. He didn't expect to hit anything - and he didn't - but it seemed to slow the flankers down a bit.

And then he was nearly at the breach in the earthworks.

O'Neill skidded to a halt and turned to face his pursuers. They were still well strung out in front of him and the flankers moved up onto the rim of the earthworks. Then they all halted in response to something yelled by one of their number.

Gasping for breath and his heart thudding like a trip-hammer, O'Neill wondered what they were waiting for.

Playing a little cat and mouse here, are we fellas?

O'Neill managed, again with difficulty, to line his weapon up on the aliens - a couple of the flankers - but when he pulled the trigger, nothing happened. It was out of ammo and it was his last clip. Watching the aliens carefully, O'Neill released the catch on the web that carried the MP-5 and dropped the now useless weapon to the ground at his feet.

Still the aliens did not move.

O'Neill dropped to one knee, taking advantage of the apparent lull in the proceedings to get his second wind. He had a feeling he was going to be needing it fairly soon. He debated whether it would be worth the effort to try and get his side-arm out, but before he had reached a decision he noticed two more aliens approaching from behind the line of waiting ones. These two were mounted on a couple of the dragon-headed quadrupeds that he had seen arrive through the Gate during the day.

Another batch of the alien equivalent of flares lit up the sky as the previous batch began to fade.

The riders halted at the waiting line and conferred with one of the foot soldiers. O'Neill could tell from the animated gestures of the foot-soldier that he was clearly one of the primary topics of conversation. He continued to suck air into his lungs in deep breaths and tried to steady the thudding of his heart a little.

He rose to his feet a few moments later as one of the riders advanced a little way towards him, then halted and seemed to study him intently. O'Neill did a little blatant - and defiant - studying of his own in return.

The alien spoke loudly. O'Neill wasn't sure if the words were aimed at him or not. Either way, he couldn't understand them.

"Er... No comprendo the lingo," he responded anyway. "But if you're invitin' me to come quietly, then..." He sucked in a deep breath and released it with apparent regret in his tone as he continued. "Naaah... I don't think so. So let's just cut to the chase here, huh, and get on with it?"

The other mounted alien rode forward to join the first and the two conferred. Then the second alien swung a leg over the neck of its mount and slid smoothly to the ground.

Now what? We gonna' arm-wrestle or something? O'Neill wondered. He soon found out as the alien reached behind the saddle its mount and produced what looked like a large and pretty powerful crossbow like weapon.

O'Neill licked his lips apprehensively as his fear level shot up another couple of notches. He casually backed up a couple of paces. He watched the alien load a very nasty looking bolt-like projectile into the crossbow and then advance a few paces. O'Neill backed up a few more paces in response. He was well and truly backed into the lips of the breach in the earthworks by then and rapidly running out of options.

The alien halted and spoke. Its voice was light, probably female and there was no doubt that it was addressing O'Neill, he understood the words this time.

"You are a brave one. Be still and I will honour you with a quick finish."

"Sorry... I got plans this weekend," O'Neill retorted. Spinning, he sprinted the remaining few paces to the edge of the cliff.

A burning pain exploded in his left side as he launched himself into the night. He screamed with the agony of it and his planned high-dive turned into a sprawling, spinning, terrifying plunge into darkness...

*************************

O'Neill hit the water badly and went under - way under - winded, wracked with pain and barely conscious. It was sheer automatic survival instinct that made him kick out and try for the surface, even though his pain and terror numbed mind was totally disorientated and barely functional.

Somehow he managed to reach the surface, but he couldn't maintain it and slipped under again. His body just didn't seem to want to co-operate with the frantic, panic-stricken messages his barely functioning mind was sending it.

He knew he wasn't going to make it when he slipped under for the third time. A detached part of him accepted it, but another part of him railed against it and flared with hope when it registered something in the water beside him; something that grabbed hold of the back of his equipment vest and pulled. The flicker of hope grew stronger as he was pulled to the surface and suddenly discovered that there was air for him to breathe if only his body would co-operate. He drifted, floating, both literally and figuratively, as something towed him backwards. He tried to kick out, to help himself and whoever, whatever, had come to his aid, but his limbs just wouldn't obey properly.

Then he was dimly aware of being dragged slowly from the water and onto a hard surface. Pain roared through him as he banged his arm and something caught his injured side. He swore colourfully with the sheer agony of it. Then the pull became stronger as if more hands were helping in the task of getting him clear of the chill water.

"It's alright, old friend. We've got you. You're safe now."

The oddly familiar voice registered dimly in O'Neill's brain before all awareness finally deserted him altogether.

*************************

General Hammond stopped short and did a double-take as he entered the briefing room. He had expected to find only two people in the room - Jackson and Carter, since Teal'c was still unconscious in the infirmary - but he found three. The chair normally occupied by the missing Jack O'Neill was instead occupied by MacGyver, who was poring over some design specs and listening to Sam Carter as she earnestly explained some of the finer technical points. Jackson was in the seat beside MacGyver and was looking every bit as earnest as the other two. Like Carter, he was talking nineteen to the dozen.

"This is supposed to be an SG-1 debriefing, people," the General announced, as he resumed his course towards his chair at the head of the table.

"Oh, it's alright, General. He's with us," Daniel said helpfully, glancing up momentarily before returning his attention to the schematics as MacGyver suddenly tapped a finger on a section of the diagram and levelled a question at Carter that brought her up short in her lecture.

"That's just not possible..." she stared at the Phoenix operative, looking quite stunned though her mind was racing over the possibilities raised by the question.

"Why not?" MacGyver wanted to know and it was clear he was quite serious. "Look, it might not be elegant, but it's the same basic principle, isn't it?"

"I realise that, but... it's... it's... unorthodox to say the least," Carter was still staring at the civilian trouble-shooter. Her expression suggested she suspected he was a little crazy.

"Ahem, people..." Hammond interjected loudly. He wasn't used to being ignored by a junior officer who was busy arguing with a civilian. who was also ignoring him.

Carter suddenly realised her superior was present and that he was working on a good impression of 'irate' again. She shot to her feet. "General Hammond, sir."

"As you were, Captain," Hammond waved her back to her seat. She sat. "Now just what exactly is going on here?"

"Just helpin' out, General," MacGyver said.

"I think Mac may have come up with a few ideas could shave some time off the control room repairs," Jackson offered helpfully.

Hammond blinked at the archaeologist, then at MacGyver, then demanded of Carter. "Well, Captain?"

"Well, sir... I don't know...I mean..."

"Damn it, Captain, you're supposed to be our expert on Gate technology. Do we have something or don't we? I've got a man stranded out there," Hammond gestured in the direction of the Gate Room, "who is probably in one helluva a serious situation. We need to extract him and we need to do it ASAP."

"Yes sir, I know that," Carter acknowledged. "It's just that some of Mr. MacGyver's - "

"It's just MacGyver or Mac," MacGyver interjected almost automatically.

"Ideas are a little... well... not to put too fine a point on it, sir, highly radical and downright unorthodox," Carter finished.

"Hey, I thought 'unorthodox' was S.O.P. around here," MacGyver commented. Then, more seriously, he addressed Carter. "Look, Captain, I realise I don't have anything like your expertise when it comes to Quantum Theory, but I think I know a little bit about the basic physics involved - "

"I'd say you know more than just a little," Jackson threw in supportively. It earned him a glare from Carter and a modest nod of acknowledgement from MacGyver himself.

"Colonel O'Neill is in big trouble back on that planet," Carter's temper was starting to flare. "We know our system works when run to these specs." She jabbed a finger at the blueprints lying on the table between herself and the Phoenix man. "We don't have time to be playing around with - ."

"I agree - we don't," MacGyver cut in, his manner serious, as deadly serious and determined as Carter had ever seen her missing superior be. "Tell me, Sam. If it were you stranded out there, what would you prefer we be doing back here; elegant and slow, or creative and expedient?" He turned to Hammond, his manner firm but reasonable. "General, I realise that you and your people have your own way of doing things and I'm just an interloper here. I also realise that my suggestions are only a temporary fix, but they should hold together long enough to at least get us out there. Hopefully you'll have something more permanent in place by the time we've found Jack and are ready to get outta' there."

General Hammond's jaw dropped. Despite everything Peter Thornton had told him about the Phoenix Foundation's top 'fixer' when the chips were down, the actual reality was taking a little getting used to. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves aren't we, son?" Hammond's voice held a distinct edge to it. "Until the system is up and running, no-one is going anywhere. And even if it were operational right this minute there'd still be no-one going anywhere until the SG-1 debrief has been done and I know exactly what a rescue mission is going to be facing. I'm not sending people in blind into hostile territory."

"Er... excuse me, General... if I may..." Jackson interjected. "We're going in to get Jack, aren't we? SG-1, I mean. We know the ground after all and what to expect." He looked as if he couldn't believe that the General could even remotely be considering sending anyone else.

"Once I have all the pertinent facts, Doctor Jackson, I will decide who does what. If anything."

MacGyver looked sharply at Hammond at the 'if anything'. "We don't leave one of our own alive behind enemy lines, General," he said with a deceptive quietness, absently picking up a stray pencil and starting to fiddle with it.

It was Hammond's turn to aim a sharp look in response to what would have been the exact word-for-word reaction that he would have anticipated getting from Jack O'Neill. The stray thought flitted through his mind: Once Special Forces, always Special Forces.

"No, son, we don't. I don't. Not if there's a snowball's chance in hell of a rescue, but I'm not going to risk lives on the impossible if that is, in fact, the situation."

"Sir...!" The indignant protest came from Carter. She subsided, military discipline kicking in automatically - though discernibly under protest - at the look Hammond shot her.

"So send me," MacGyver said evenly, in the same deceptively innocuous tone. He regarded the older man steadily as if the suggestion was both reasonable and a glaringly obvious solution.

"Are you out of your mind?" Hammond exploded incredulously as he stared at the Phoenix operative. "You're a civilian damn it! An injured civilian at that!"

"General," MacGyver said reasonably and with a deceptive patience that did little to hide the steel under the surface. "The impossible is what I do." It was not a boast and everyone in the room knew it. He was simply stating a cold hard fact. "Ask Pete Thornton."

"Son..." Hammond endeavoured to be equally reasonable but was finding it hard. Civilians can be so damned bone-headed. "I know and understand that you want to help. And that's fine. But I have no authority to allow you to go out on an SG mission. Even if I did, I still couldn't allow it. Not with that leg of yours."

"I've worked with worse, General," MacGyver stated quietly, evenly. "And alone." He was still fiddling with the pencil, turning it and twisting it around in his fingers and he stared sightlessly at it as he spoke as if lost in some old, old memories. "Actually, I work best alone." He looked up and saw that the other three were all staring at his pencil-fiddling. He put the pencil down, quite deliberately and endeavoured to still his restless fingers.

"Ah... All of which is totally moot of course." Daniel Jackson was the first to recover from the almost mesmerizing effect MacGyver's pencil-fiddling had been having. It was one of the absent O'Neill's more distracting habits at briefings and staff meetings in general. He realised everyone was looking at him now. "Until we actually get the Gate working again." He elaborated, looking round at the others. "Right?"

"Exactly right, Doctor Jackson," Hammond gladly seized the ball that the archaeologist had just presented him with. "So, the sooner we get this debriefing done, the sooner you can all get back to it, people."

*************************

A number of things registered on Jack O'Neill's awareness, dimly at first, then more strongly as he climbed up out of the dark oblivion of unconsciousness. He was lying cocooned in soft warmth, voices conversed quietly somewhere - some sounded like young children - and he hurt. Major hurt. It seemed to be concentrated mostly in his left side, although there was a dull ache in his right forearm too.

Awareness of movement close by caused him to react instinctively. His eyes flew open and he tried to move abruptly, ready to defend himself if necessary; despite feeling like he hardly had the energy to break out of a flimsy paper bag. Pain flared within him like fire and his newly returned consciousness threatened to desert him again...

"Ah...God..." he gasped, falling back, helped along by a firm hand on his shoulder which pushed him back down.

"Lie still, old friend. You're safe here."

It took a few moments for O'Neill to gather himself together enough to focus clearly on the figure that was sitting at his side. He recognised the figure. It was the blind woman whom he and his team had helped the day before...or whenever it had been.

"You...?" He observed in surprise.

"Rest now and heal," she advised, smiling in a kindly fashion as she tucked the covers warmly back into place around him.

O'Neill automatically scanned his surroundings. He appeared to be inside the woman's wagon. It didn't strike him as a particularly safe place to be if the aliens came a-knocking on the door.

"We are safe here," the woman told him, almost as if reading his thoughts. She rested a hand unerringly on his shoulder again and patted it gently. "When your people come for you, you will need your strength, but it will not be for some time yet so you should rest now while you can," she advised.

O'Neill shifted slightly and pain rippled through him again. He realised he wasn't going to be going anywhere - not right away anyhow.

"Mebbe just take ten... or so..." he conceded. "Then I need to get back to the Gate...Need to be there when SG-1 comes back..."

That it could be anyone other than SG-1 who would come to rescue him never crossed O'Neill's mind as he allowed his eyes to close. He knew his team would not abandon him; even if it meant going against orders. He would rest for a little while. Just a little while. Then he would make his way back to the Gate area - somehow - and go to ground to wait.

Within moments of closing his eyes, he was out cold again.

*************************

"How's it coming, Captain?" General Hammond stood and surveyed the organised chaos that was the Control Room. Technicians were everywhere, yanking fried equipment, wiring in new equipment, repairing salvageable equipment, testing equipment... It was a veritable hive of frantic activity.

"Slowly, but we're getting there, sir," Carter responded. She looked tired and anxious. "A number of MacGyver's suggestions have helped speed things up enormously. You know, watching him work is... it's just amazing, sir." Something akin to awe had crept into her voice. "When he says he does the impossible, he's not kidding."

"And just where is our Mr. MacGyver?" Hammond looked around at the sound of duct-tape ripping. He saw a technician busy with a length of tape at a console that was salvageable, but which had a large split in its casing; several lengths of tape were already in evidence on the casing, visibly holding it together.

"Ah..." Carter looked around. "He was here a little while ago..."

A shout from down below in the Gate Room answered the question. "Hey, MacGyver, catch."

Hammond and Carter both crossed over to the gaping hole that was the observation window - or at least which would be the observation window again once the shattered, reinforced glass had been replaced - and looked down into the Gate Room. MacGyver was there with a squad of engineers who were busy replacing circuitry that had blown out courtesy of a feedback overload that had occurred when the Control Room had literally gone to pieces. It wasn't entirely clear what the civilian was doing but he was seated on the floor at one side of the base of the Gate, surrounded by a pile of wiring and a schematic. A roll of duct-tape sat on the floor beside him and he appeared to have a Swiss Army Knife in his hand. One of the senior engineers was crouching beside him and the two were quite discernibly engaged in an animated discussion about something. The engineer was scratching his head as he conversed with the civilian.

"I hope you know what he's doing, Captain," Hammond remarked.

"Actually, sir...I have no idea..." Carter confessed as the engineer who had been conferring with MacGyver picked up the schematic and took it over to some of his colleagues who were working elsewhere in the Gate Room. The engineers went into a huddle over the schematic and some discernible head-scratching ensued, one or two very dubious looks got shot in MacGyver's direction, more head-scratching ensued accompanied by some head-shaking. Then the senior engineer's voice floated up to Carter and Hammond.

"Well, I say it's worth a try. Get to it, people."

The huddle broke up as the engineers dispersed to do whatever it was the senior one had decided on.

Hammond looked at Carter, who just shrugged expressively.

*************************

When Jack O'Neill awakened again, he still hurt. The pain was not as bad as before though and he felt stronger than previously. He took a few moments to take stock of his situation and gather himself together before he attempted moving this time. The effort of sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the wood-frame bed stirred up the burning fire in his left side again and dragged some muttered curses from him. It didn't do much for the nagging discomfort in his right forearm either. He had to take several slow deep breaths to steady himself and banish the nausea that came with the increased pain level.

As the worst of the hurt subsided again, O'Neill checked himself out. There was a very effective splint fastened securely to his aching right forearm and bandaging swathed his midriff with discernibly thick dressings in place at his left side, both back and front. The bolt - or whatever it was - must have gone right through... or lodged and been removed by... someone.

Since the bandages, the splint and his dog-tags were all he was wearing, O'Neill looked around for any sign of his clothes. The idea of traipsing across-country buck-naked to get back to the Stargate lacked a certain appeal somehow. If he had to resort to it, he would, but it would definitely be the absolutely last resort. His clothes, however, didn't appear to be anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Nor did he see any suitable substitutes near at hand.

He felt the wagon rock slightly as if someone were climbing in or possibly out. Automatically he awkwardly pulled the blanket about him in an attempt at maintaining some degree of modesty lest he was about to have a visitor and it was one of the young girls he remembered being with the blind woman.

"Hello?" He called. "Somebody there?"

A section of the curtain twitched a few moments later and a head poked around it. It belonged to one of the children - the eldest of the girls.

"Hi!" O'Neill attempted to be congenial - despite feeling a little cranky and irritable, which was as much due to his being in pain as anything else. "You ah, wouldn't happen to know where my clothes are, would ya'?"

The girl nodded and disappeared, dropping the curtain back into place.

"Hey...thanks..." O'Neill called after her. "That's a real big help...Appreciate it..."

O'Neill was debating with himself the wisdom of attempting to stand up and go search the rest of the wagon for something to wear when he felt the rocking motion again; more strongly than before. He decided to wait and see who this visitor was. A few moments later the curtain was pulled back by the blind woman. She dropped it back into place behind her as she approached her guest.

"I am told you are awake and asking for your clothes."

"Ah...yeah..." O'Neill agreed. He watched the woman as she stepped closer and extended a hand unerringly to his shoulder. "Not that I don't appreciate all your help - "

"I know, you are anxious to be gone from here, but it would be safer for you were you to remain with us," the woman stated, inclining her head slightly as she seemed to study O'Neill with her sightless gaze. "Much safer."

"I need to be near the Stargate when my, ah, people come looking for me," O'Neill responded determinedly.

The woman seemed to consider this for a moment before she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze then retrieved her hand. "Your clothes should be dried now. I will have Tir bring them," she stated. "Then, if you still feel strong enough, come to the campfire and we will speak more on this."

"Thank you," O'Neill sighed with a certain amount of relief that he wasn't getting an argument. The woman turned to leave; he spoke again. "Ah...excuse me... but, what do I call you?"

"I am known here as Seeba," the woman answered and then she was gone.

O'Neill didn't have long to wait before the eldest boy arrived with his clothes, his boots and his equipment vest, sidearm and watch. "You must be Tir, huh?" O'Neill observed as the boy put everything down on the bed beside him where he could easily reach it.

The boy nodded.

"Don't say much, do ya?" O'Neill observed. "But then I guess not talkin' to strangers ain't such a bad habit for a kid to have." He moved gingerly to sort through his clothes and pulled his jacket out. "Think you could do me a favour, Tir?" He asked. The boy nodded. "Think you could take this and slit the right sleeve a-ways? Don't think I'm gonna' get it over this splint otherwise..."

The boy glanced at O'Neill's splinted forearm, then nodded at him. Taking the jacket, he disappeared behind the curtain.

Left to himself, O'Neill began slowly and awkwardly, to dress himself. He was in the process of zipping up his pants when Tir returned.

"Thanks, son," O'Neill said, sitting himself carefully down again and reaching for his T-shirt which, he discovered, was rather shredded on the left side. Someone had sliced it to get it off him which suggested that the bolt he had been shot with hadn't gone straight through him of its own accord; it had lodged and someone had had to remove it.

He found it awkward to get the T-shirt on without either twisting his busted arm or aggravating his injured side more than it already was. Then, suddenly, he found Tir was helping him, which made the task a great deal easier. Then, again unasked, Tir helped O'Neill into his battle jacket; the left side of which had received much the same attention from someone as the T-shirt had.

"Think a guy my age'd be able to dress himself..." O'Neill remarked wryly as Tir proceeded to help him with both socks and boots. Tir grinned up at him as he made a neat job of tying O'Neill's bootlaces.

Presently Tir led the way to the rear of the wagon and the door there. Settling his splinted forearm a little more comfortably in the makeshift sling he had helped him with, O'Neill followed the boy, a little unsteadily. He saw the look Tir cast over his shoulder.

"I'm okay, kid. Lead on."

Tir nodded, opened the door and went outside.

O'Neill had to duck slightly to avoid braining himself, but was brought up short by the sight that greeted him as he moved out onto the top of the several steps that descended from the rear of the wagon. Whatever he had been expecting to find, it wasn't what he did find.

"Whoa...!" He exclaimed softly.

The wagon was inside a huge cavern. Several other wagons were also in evidence. Some were made almost entirely from wood; like Seeba's. Others were partially wooden and a lot of canvas, reminding O'Neill somewhat of the covered wagons so frequently depicted in old western movies. The canvas covers were, however, highly decoratively painted. Horses were tethered to the majority of the wagons and were chomping contentedly on nets of what looked like hay. The other wagons had oxen-like animals tethered to them and they too were chomping on hay nets.

Near to each wagon was a small campfire and small groups of people were clustered around each fire.

Slowly, O'Neill descended the steps and followed Tir to the campfire at which Seeba sat waiting for him. Little Melia, who had been sitting at Seeba's side, clambered to her feet and ran over to him.

"Jack! Jack!" She cried delightedly. "You feel better now?" She wanted to know.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he smiled at the partial lie. "I'm feeling better now." Melia reached for his left hand and happily led him the rest of the way to the fireside.

"Seeba say you come back," she told him brightly.

"Melia, child, let Jack have peace now. He may be feeling a little better, but he still has much healing to do," Seeba chided gently. "Come sit with us, Jack, and have some food, then we should talk of what is to be."

O'Neill lowered himself carefully onto a blanket-covered trunk that Tir gestured him to and winced quite discernibly as his injured side protested with every movement. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a few slow, deep breaths, only to start slightly as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up and found Seeba was standing beside him. She held a small drinking bowl out in front of him.

"Drink this," she instructed. "It will help."

Taking the bowl with his left hand, O'Neill regarded the contents a little dubiously. Then, hesitantly, he took a cautious sip of the dark liquid and promptly pulled a very expressive face.

"Thanks, but I think I’ll pass..."

"Drink," Seeba repeated firmly. "It will help."

O'Neill hesitated. He had tasted viler things in his time. He just couldn't quite remember when. Logic told him that if these people wanted him dead, it was unlikely they would save him from drowning only to poison him. He regarded the bowl's contents again and then forced himself to drink, downing the vile concoction in three large swallows.

"Now you eat something," Seeba instructed approvingly. O'Neill saw her smile as she added. "Food will take away the taste of the medicine."

O'Neill strongly doubted that anything would kill the foul taste in his mouth, but he accepted the food he was duly provided with.

"How did I get here? Wherever 'here' is?" He asked presently as he nursed the hot drink he was given to wash his meal down with. The disgusting potion he had swallowed down seemed to be starting to have a beneficial effect; the pain in his side and splinted forearm had eased considerably to tolerably ignorable levels and he felt stronger.

"What do you remember?" Seeba countered.

"I was drowning," O'Neill shivered slightly at the unpleasant memory. "Someone, or something, pulled me to the surface and towed me to shore..."

"That was Tir," Seeba said.

Surprise spread across O'Neill's face and he stared at the woman for a moment, then at Tir, who was sitting on a blanket on the ground beside him. The boy shifted under his gaze as if a little embarrassed.

"I owe you, kid. Big time," O'Neill told the boy honestly. Then he frowned in Seeba's direction as he pondered on the amazing coincidence that they had been in the right place at the right time to fish him out of that lake and without getting caught by any of 'The Hunters'. A point he would pursue later. Right now, he had a slightly more pressing question. "So..." he said. "Where exactly are we?"

"A place that is quite safe from 'The Hunters'," Seeba answered.

"Don't you mean it's just a hidey-hole they haven't found yet?" O'Neill observed sceptically. He very much doubted the planet possessed such a thing as a truly 'safe' place from the Goa'uld. He saw Seeba smile.

"Do you feel able to walk with me a little way?" she asked.

"Sure..." O'Neill was cautious. "Where to?"

"Not far," the woman stated, rising to her feet. "Children, remain here. Jack and I will return shortly. There is something I must show him."

O'Neill rose to his feet, cautiously, wary of unnecessarily stirring up the hurt in his side again; which had subsided to a dull aching. He moved to the woman's side as she began to walk unhurriedly away from the campfire.

"Excuse my asking, but you are blind, right?" O'Neill said a little awkwardly as he accompanied the woman across the cavern, matching her slow, steady pace and marvelling at how she seemed to find her way so easily.

"I do not have eyes as you do, that is correct," Seeba answered him.

"Then...how do you ah...?" O'Neill floundered over the question.

"Find my way around?" Seeba finished his question for him, smiling.

"Ah...Yeah..."

"Years of practice," Seeba said with a smile.

"Ask a stupid question..." O'Neill muttered under his breath. Then, as he saw where they appeared to be heading - a dark tunnel - he went on. "Listen, you may not need to be able to see to know where you're going, but I forgot to bring a torch..."

"Take my arm," Seeba instructed, holding out her right elbow.

"Aw man..." O'Neill hesitated. Then, with a mutter of, "Talk about the blind leading the blind..." He reached out with his left hand and accompanied the woman into the pitch darkness of the tunnel.

They walked slowly for some distance before Seeba halted.

"What now?" O'Neill questioned. It was still pitch black and he couldn't see a thing, but he had a strong sense that they were no longer in the confines of the tunnel but in a larger space again.

"You might want to shield your eyes. There will be light in a moment. You may find it rather bright at first after the darkness."

"Ahhh...God..." O'Neill exclaimed as he suddenly found himself blinded by bright light. He hastily brought his left hand up to protect his eyes as he blinked against the brightness that had abruptly swamped him. He was aware of Seeba remaining by his side as his eyes slowly adjusted and he was able to see again. Lowering his hand and still blinking, he began to look around.

He found he was in another fairly sizeable cavern, although not as large a one as the one the wagons were camped in.

"Oh my Good Lord..." he breathed as his gaze alighted on a very large, very familiar looking, circular object.

*************************

"Hey, MacGyver... General Hammond wants to see us upstairs."

MacGyver looked up from the circuit board he and one of the Air Force technicians were working on in the Control Room, which was still in a state of disrepair, but was finally beginning to bear some resemblance to its former glory.

"Okay, be right with you, Daniel," MacGyver nodded at the archaeologist. He took a moment to finish talking with the technician, then half-hopping, half-limping, he made his way over to where Jackson stood waiting for him.

"Actually, he sent for SG-1," Daniel amended as MacGyver carefully hopped down the stairs to the corridor in his wake. "But I figure it's probably got something to do with our going after Jack, so I figured you'd want to be in on it."

"Yeah, I do. Thanks, Daniel," MacGyver said gratefully.

They took the elevator upstairs instead of using the staircase up from the Control Room. It was the longer, slower route, but it was easier on MacGyver's bad knee.

Entering the conference room they found Carter and Teal'c already there, waiting.

"Hey, Teal'c. How're ya' doin'?" MacGyver inquired of the big Jaffa, whom he had last seen being carted off to the infirmary, unconscious, on a stretcher in one of the corridors, a considerable number of hours before.

"I am recovered and ready to embark to find O'Neill," Teal'c responded, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment of the genuine concern he saw in the civilian's eyes.

"People..." General Hammond entered the room from his office. He saw MacGyver was present and his expression spoke volumes. He was not happy at the civilian's presence.

"I thought Mac should be here, General," Daniel jumped in before the General had a chance to point out that it was only SG-1 he had summoned. "If this concerns Jack in any way, then he's got a right to know too... Surely?"

Hammond glowered momentarily at Jackson, then his expression changed, acknowledging that MacGyver did deserve to hear what he was about to say firsthand and at the same time as SG-1. "Sit people... Please..." he invited grimly.

The SG-1 team members exchanged worried looks as they and MacGyver settled into seats around the conference table. SG-1 knew that tone. Knew it only too well. It was the General's ‘prepare yourselves for bad news’ tone.

Hammond remained standing, his expression growing grimmer by the moment as he regarded each of the four faces looking back at him. He sighed and braced himself, then dropped his bombshell matter-of-factly.

"There will be no return mission to P4X-994 at this time, even when the Gate repairs are completed."

The mini mutiny that ensued came as absolutely no surprise to him. Carter and Jackson both shot to their feet in the blink of an eye, loudly voicing their angry objections. Teal'c also rose to his feet and although he remained silent, his expression was one of deep disapproval and anger. MacGyver just sat staring at Hammond, visibly stunned.

"Enough, people!" Hammond roared, quelling Carter and Jackson. "I don't like it any more than you do, but it's just too damned dangerous to send anyone to that planet at this time. You said it yourselves, there's a small army of Goa'uld camped right on top of the Gate. Anyone going through would be walking right into the middle of them and they'd cut a rescue team to pieces the minute you stepped out the other end. A rescue mission is one thing, but a suicide mission is totally out of the question."

"But... General..." Carter stared at Hammond, an expression of stunned horror on her face.

"We can't just leave Jack hanging out there, General!" Daniel exploded.

"Doctor Jackson, Colonel O'Neill may well be dead by now," Hammond pointed out, his own temper flaring discernibly.

"He may still be alive, General!" Daniel pleaded desperately.

"Under the circumstances that seems highly unlikely," Hammond responded. He shook his head. "No. I'm sorry. The risks involved in sending a team through the Gate at this time are just too high. In a few days or so, we'll send a probe through to see if the Goa'uld are still in residence - "

"A few days? Sir, with respect, if Colonel O’Neill is still alive, he could be badly injured. A few days could be too long to wait," Carter protested.

"And the Goa'uld could still be camped on the doorstep in a week, Captain. They could be taking up permanent residence for all we know!" Hammond quashed her objection firmly. "A probe in a few days' time is the best I can do, people. Anything else is just too damn risky." He paused to glower darkly. "The decision is made."

With that, Hammond turned and stomped off to his office, no happier about the situation than anyone else in the room.

Carter and Jackson stared at one another in total disbelief. Teal'c looked...well, like Teal'c, but there was a distinct aura of disappointed anger about him. They all knew deep down, that Hammond’s reasoning was sound military logic, but it still didn’t sit at all well with the SG-1 team.

"I don't believe this..." Daniel shook his head, quite visibly distraught as he sank back into his chair.

"There has to be something we can do..." Carter looked equally shattered.

"Oh there's always something," MacGyver stated, rising to his feet, an aura of grim determination about him and a cold fury blazing in his dark eyes. "That's the trouble with the military way of thinking - no imagination." He was en route towards Hammond's office door even as he spoke.

"What do you intend, MacGyver?" The question came from Teal'c. There was a note in the Jaffa's tone that suggested if the civilian were harbouring thoughts about tearing someone limb from limb, he would be a willing volunteer to assist.

MacGyver halted and looked round. He saw the looks being aimed at him and felt a heavy weight of responsibility suddenly settle on his shoulders as he realised SG-1 were now pinning all their hopes of a viable way to rescue O'Neill on him.

"Cheer up, folks. I think I got an idea... General's probably gonna' hate it, but then Generals always hate my ideas on principal. They’ve got no imagination. Lemme see if I can't educate this one a little..." the Phoenix Foundation's top trouble-shooter responded with a taut smile. He resumed his limping course to the General's door and knocked loudly on it. Without waiting to be invited in, he took a deep breath, opened the door and went in anyway.

"General Hammond, I think we need to talk..." The SG-1 trio heard him announce before he firmly closed the door behind him.

*************************

Jack O'Neill swore colourfully as he stared at the D.H.D.. He didn't need Sam Carter to tell him the device was non-operational, he could see that much for himself. The central dome that was the activator once the glyphs had been set was well and truly busted. The lump of rock sitting in its place attested to that.

It was awkward using only his left hand, but he fished the rock out and peered at the innards that were revealed. He was no expert on the workings of the device, but he knew enough to know when he was out of his depth. To get the thing working again, he needed Sam Carter and she'd probably need some equipment...

O'Neill sighed. If he was going to get home, it wasn't going to be through this Gate.

"Well, this is all shot to hell," he stated. He looked round and saw Seeba had settled herself on the bottom step of the flight that led up to the platform upon which the non-functional Gate sat. Her sightless gaze rested on him. "Did you know this was busted?" He asked.

"Yes."

O'Neill was a little surprised by the matter-of-fact response. "I can't fix it, you know," he told her. It occurred to him that perhaps she had been hoping he could so that they could all escape through the Gate.

"I know," Seeba nodded, "but because you are here, those who can will come."

O'Neill frowned at that as he leaned back against the useless D.H.D.. "Wouldn't count on it," he observed. "Not while those Goa'uld are camped on top of the other Gate." He rubbed a little absently at his splinted arm. He had been military all his adult life. He knew the way things worked and he'd had time to think. He knew SG-1 would want to come looking for him no matter what the risk to themselves, but he also knew his superior would not authorise a suicide mission to rescue one man who might very well be long past rescue. For SG-1 to come through the Gate whilst the Goa'ulds were camped on top of it would be suicide. It wasn't going to happen. Hammond wouldn't allow it. He was on his own.

If the Goa'uld packed up and went home within the next few days, he could use the surface Gate to travel to the world that SG-5 were scheduled to visit. They would be able to use their G.D.O. to send him back to Earth without him splattering himself all over the Earth-Gate's iris.

If the Goa'uld didn't decamp, then he had a major problem. Hammond would undoubtedly send a probe through at some point soon; if he hadn't already. The General would take one look at the enemy and that would be that unless somehow O'Neill could send a message back via that probe that he was still alive and would go to ground for the duration.

Living off the land indefinitely would not be a major problem. He was Special Forces trained. He knew how to survive on what he could find and he had seen enough of the planet to know that there was plenty of small game about that could be trapped. The plant life was close enough to Earth norm that it could provide him with things to survive on too.

"They will come, Jack," Seeba's voice intruded on O'Neill's thoughts.

"Nope...I don't think so," O'Neill dismissed the suggestion. Pushing away from the defunct D.H.D., he began to tour the chamber, searching for anything that could conceivably be of use against the Goa'uld. A stash of C4 and some time delay fuses would be nice. Or an Exocet or two...

He found a pile of junk and started to cautiously rummage through it as best he could, one-handed and without unduly aggravating his injuries. "How far away from the other Gate are these caverns?" He asked as he rummaged.

"Not far," Seeba answered.

"Which would be...?" O'Neill looked round at the woman. "What? A kilometre? Five? Ten?"

"We are underneath it," Seeba said composedly.

"Underneath it?" O'Neill echoed, staring in some surprise at her.

"Come... I will show you." Seeba rose to her feet and started to walk back towards the tunnel by which she and O'Neill had gained entry to the Gate chamber.

O'Neill abandoned the junk - it didn't appear to contain anything useful anyway - and headed after her. She waited at the tunnel entrance for him to catch up. As he reached her the Gate chamber plunged abruptly back into darkness. "Guess somebody forgot to pay the electricity bill, huh?" Was O'Neill's immediate wry comment.

*************************

"Who's winning do you think?" Daniel Jackson wondered aloud.

"It's hard to tell," Carter responded.

The remaining three members of SG-1 were still in the conference room and MacGyver was still in General Hammond's office. The sound of raised voices emanated clearly from the office, but were muffled enough that it was impossible to tell exactly what was being said back and forth between the two protagonists. MacGyver could be seen through the glass panel in the wall between the office and the conference room, pacing back and forth, indulging in a lot of expressive hand-waving. He was quite clearly giving his version of the riot act. Hammond was on his feet behind his desk, looking furious enough to bust a gut at any moment and appeared to be equally determinedly delivering his own version of the riot act.

"My money's on Mac," Jackson decided, checking his watch. MacGyver and Hammond had been yelling at each other for the best part of twenty minutes. As far as he knew, no-one had ever lasted that long against the General; not that there were many people within the mountain who would dare to argue with the man in the first place. He knew Jack O'Neill had had the odd head-butting session with Hammond, but being military and subject to military discipline, knew when to defer, even if he didn't like doing it. MacGyver wasn't military and therefore an entirely different kettle of fish.

"I'm not so sure, Daniel..." Sam said with a dubious shake of her head.

As they continued to watch and listen, they witnessed MacGyver throw his arms up in the air in a clearly despairing gesture before storming out of the General's office via the door that led directly into the corridor. The slam of the door in his wake rattled the walls.

"The man gave it his best shot," Daniel sighed, looking quite crestfallen.

"Guess there are some things that are just impossible, even for MacGyver," Carter commented, disappointment spreading quite clearly across her tired face.

"Yeah..." Daniel sighed, rising to his feet. "Come on. We might as well get back to work. For all the good it's going to do Jack."

The threesome had not long departed the conference/briefing room when an announcement came over the complex's P.A. system which brought them up short.

"Colonel Makepeace and Major Ferretti report to General Hammond in the Briefing Room. Colonel Makepeace and Major Ferretti report to the Briefing Room, ASAP."

The SG-1 trio halted and looked at one another, hope suddenly flaring within them. A summons for the team commanders of SG-3 and SG-2 respectively usually signified something hazardous was in the offing

"SG-1 report to the Briefing Room. SG-1 to the Briefing Room." The P.A. went on.

SG-1 did a mighty quick about-face and headed back the way they'd just come.

*************************

O'Neill stood and looked out at the lake that had so very nearly claimed his life and shivered slightly at the unpleasant memories the sight of it evoked.

Seeba had led him from the Gate cavern through the pitch-blackness of the tunnel back into the large cavern where the wagons were camped. From there she had led him into another tunnel which had initially been pitch black until they had turned a sharp bend and daylight had become visible, growing stronger as they had walked towards the mouth of the tunnel.

The mouth of the tunnel was large and sheltered by a massive overhang of rock. To one side a wide ledge ran along the cliff-face around the edge of the lake to a section of rocky shoreline with a dirt track and woodland beyond it. The ledge was definitely wide enough to take any of the wagons that were holed up within the cavern system. Two men with fishing poles sat on rocks at the water's edge, while nearby a woman busied herself with some washing. A couple of children were running around, playing happily.

O'Neill, who had automatically moved to the cover of shadows upon nearing the cavern mouth, stared in incredulous disbelief at the blatant lack of security.

"Sweet..." he muttered, shaking his head slightly. He turned to Seeba. "Don't you have any guards posted? This place is wide open to the first Goa'uld that strolls by."

"Hardly," Seeba smiled a knowing and slightly amused smile. "Walk out there and if it is clear go just beyond the big rock, then look back." She gestured in the direction of the wide ledge. "Go on," she encouraged when O'Neill didn't move.

Muttering something uncomplimentary under his breath about insanity, O'Neill did as instructed, though he exercised acute caution in the process and scanned the lakeshore constantly for any sign of anything potentially hostile.

Finally reaching the spot he had been told to go to, he glanced over his shoulder and did a rapid double-take.

The overhang, the cavern, the fishermen, Seeba, the woman with the washing and the two children had vanished. In their place was a sheer cliff-face that dropped straight down into the lake.

"What the hell...?"

Cautiously he began to retrace his steps. Reaching the cliff-face he extended his left hand warily to touch the solid rock. His fingers met only thin air and vanished....

Reflexively he snatched his hand back with a slightly startled yelp. Then, slowly, he reached out again. His fingers disappeared once more, then his whole hand and his wrist. He flexed his fingers. He could still feel them, he just couldn't see them.

Taking a deep breath and giving a little shrug, O'Neill stepped boldly forward and found himself standing just under the edge of the overhang. The tunnel mouth was in front of him again, as was Seeba. He glanced about. The two fishermen were still fishing; one was landing a fish in fact. The woman with the washing was gathering up her wash into a basket and the two kids who had been running about were now beside her.

O'Neill advanced to where Seeba waited for him. "Neat trick," he observed, looking around for any sign of the technology behind the illusion. "How'd you do it?"

Seeba shrugged. "It has always been so. The people say it is magic, but I think it was left behind by those who left the Gateway here, to keep it hidden."

"Oh yeeaah," O'Neill said a little absently. He could see no trace of whatever made and maintained the very effective illusion.

"Come, Jack. Let us return inside. You should rest again for a while. If your mind is still set on leaving us, I fear you will need all of your strength for what lies ahead of you." Seeba said.

"I can't stay," O'Neill stated, regarding the woman intently.

"I know that is what you believe, but I wish you would reconsider. I fear greatly for your life if you leave us at this time." With that, Seeba turned abruptly and started walking off down the tunnel.

There was an extremely pensive frown on O'Neill's face as he hesitated for a moment or two before following after the blind woman.

*************************

MacGyver sighed deeply as he settled on the fallen tree-trunk and rubbed both hands over his face, then gazed out at the view afforded by being half-way up the mountainside. After spending some considerable while hobbling about out in the fresh air, he was finally beginning to calm down - a little anyway - after his failure to win his argument with Hammond. Blasted military brass could be so pig-headed!

Alright, so the plan he had proposed was extremely risky. But then there wasn't a search and rescue mission behind enemy lines that wasn't risky. And that it was behind enemy lines was a fact Hammond had made abundantly clear. That there was, in fact, a major war in progress and that the Cheyenne Mountain Complex was the front line was something else the General had made abundantly clear. And 'The Enemy' was not even human. 'The Enemy' was some sort of alien parasite that enslaved other races; that would destroy the Earth and every living thing on it at the first opportunity.

MacGyver was still prepared to take that step out into the unknown, to go after Jack O'Neill and bring him back; alive or dead. It was the principle of the thing as much as anything. There was a man 'out there', in trouble, with no way to get home on his own. Alright, so O'Neill was family and that made it kinda' personal, but the basic principle was unchanged by that. Someone needed help. The kind of help he had spent much of his life rendering, often at the behest of one branch or other of the military or of the government. And here he was, on the front-line, ready to help, willing to put his life on the line...

And the blasted bureaucracy was determined to sit on its hands and have him do the same. Typical military thinking!

"MacGyver!"

The Phoenix trouble-shooter looked around at the sound of his name being called, but saw no immediate sign of the caller. It sounded like Daniel Jackson though.

"MACGYVER! Where are you?"

It was Jackson. He sounded a little breathless and a lot agitated. MacGyver wondered what was up.

"I'm up here, Daniel!" MacGyver yelled back.

The young archaeologist crashed through the bushes into view a few moments later. He was definitely a bit breathless and was quite visibly extremely agitated. "You did it, MacGyver! You did it! The Gate repairs'll be finished in a few more hours and we're going after Jack in the morning!" Jackson spoke so fast in his excitement that MacGyver had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying. "General Hammond's called a full mission briefing for all members of SG-1, SG-2 and SG-3 in one hour. He wants you in his office now. Come on!"

MacGyver couldn't help it. He stared at the agitated younger man.

"MacGyver, c'mon!" Daniel gestured impatiently.

Realisation of just what exactly the young archaeologist had said began to sink in. Mac shot to his feet.

"You’re going after Jack?" He was hardly able to believe it, needed Jackson to confirm that he'd heard him right. Hammond had so emphatically turned down every suggestion he had been able to come up with on the matter.

"Yeah... Now c'mon willya'?"

"Hammond's sending your team and two others to back you up?"

"Yeah. Major Ferretti and Colonel Makepeace seem to think the idea you threw at the General ought to work," Jackson was practically jumping up and down with delight as he accompanied MacGyver down the mountainside.

"Which idea?" MacGyver wanted to know. He had suggested several.

"The General said you called it 'smoke and mirrors'," Daniel responded. "I have to say it sounded a little crazy at first, but when you start to think about it, it kind of starts to make sense in a crazy sort of way... Jack'd just love it, I can tell you that."

MacGyver wasn't entirely sure he liked what he was hearing all of a sudden. None of his suggestions had called for three SG teams... It looked like he and Hammond were going to be having another serious head-butting session.

*************************

"Is that comfortable?" Seeba questioned as she secured the bandaging around O'Neill's midriff, having just persuaded him to allow her to change the dressings on his wounds for him.

"Could stand to be a little tighter," O'Neill responded.

"You are sure?"

"Yeah."

"Alright."

O'Neill winced a little as Seeba duly adjusted the bandaging so that it was a little tighter, but he made no complaint. Instead, he distracted himself from the discomfort by saying. "When my team was coming back to the Gate up top, we found a number of bodies out in the woods. Looked like they'd been there a-while."

"Killed with such as this?" Seeba asked, reaching up to a shelf above the wood-frame bed O'Neill was sitting on in her wagon and lifting down a wicked looking bolt-like projectile.

"Oh yeeah..." O'Neill answered as he finished tugging his T-shirt back down over his bandages. "Just like that..."

"It is the one that injured you," Seeba said and held the object out for O'Neill to inspect more closely if he should so choose. He took it from her and examined it, noting that it was metallic and lightweight. Metallurgy was not something he knew much about, but it looked to his inexpert eye like the metal might contain Naquadah or some alloy thereof. He also noted the barbed ridges that flowed down the shaft of the bolt in the wake of its razor-sharp arrowhead-like point.

A frown crossed his face. If this was what he had been shot by, then it had obviously lodged itself in his body and somebody had had to extract it from him. Probably it had had to be pushed right through. It certainly couldn't have been pulled back from the point of entry - not without major surgery - or he would have been ripped to shreds and more likely than not, would have bled to death.

Not something to dwell too deeply on, he decided. He had been lucky and he had survived. That was all that counted in this game. Surviving.

"The Hunters killed them," Seeba stated grimly, sitting herself down beside O'Neill.

"We also found an empty village," O'Neill said. "Empty except for some neat little surprise welcome packages that nearly took the head off of one of my people."

Seeba nodded. "If you travel this world, you will find many empty villages. Most of the people heeded the prophecies and left in time. Others, like those you found, did not. After that slaughter, many of those who still remained fled across the land. It is those who now serve as prey to those Dark Souled Ones. Few - if any - will ultimately survive."

"The ones who...left...?" O'Neill asked.

"Were sent safely through the Gateway."

"Who by? You?"

"Yes," Seeba answered. "I was not born of this world, Jack. I have travelled the Gateways before and will do so again."

"Uh-huh..." O'Neill considered this new information. "So if you sent everybody somewhere else, how come you and those people outside there are still here? Why didn't you go too?"

"They are stragglers. They did not come to the Gateway soon enough," Seeba answered.

"And you waited for them," O'Neill nodded pensively. "And now you're just as trapped as they are."

"I prefer to think that their journey is merely delayed a little," Seeba smiled. Then her expression turned more sombre as she reached out to touch O'Neill's good arm. "It is your safety that concerns me most at present. I wish you would not persist with this desire of yours to leave the safety of this place."

"And I have told you why I must," O'Neill responded in a tone that was both patient and gentle.

"I know," Seeba nodded, levelling her sightless gaze on him. "But sometimes things are foretold so they may be changed or avoided entirely. Sometimes I am able to see that which is yet to be when I cannot see what is already."

"Gypsy second sight?" O'Neill smiled sceptically, but his tone was not unkind.

Seeba inclined her head slightly as if pondering the remark for a moment before she answered. "If you like... Your people will come for you and they will come soon, but if you go from this place at this time, I fear greatly that you will not be alive for them to find. Remain here at least another day or so and you will remain alive for them to find and be in no worse health than you are now. And they will find you here if you stay, old friend."

"Now see... There ya' go with the 'old friend' stuff again," O'Neill complained irritably, pulling away from the woman's touch.

"You have an old soul, Jack. Older than you realise. As does the one who is yet to come. We have travelled together before, a long, long time ago."

"Sorry, lady, but that re-incarnation mumbo-jumbo just doesn't cut it," O'Neill retorted with irritable dismissal. "You die and that's it. End of story. Finito. Dead is dead. Unless you're a Goa'uld with one of those fancy sarcophagus contraptions and believe me, dead is the better of those two options." He reached for his jacket as he spoke.

Seeba sighed and shook her head slightly as if despairing as she rose to her feet. "To leave or to stay is your choice," she told him. "I can do no more than caution you as I have." With that, she turned and left him to fight with his jacket by himself.

*************************

MacGyver knocked on the door of Hammond's office and this time waited for permission before entering.

"Ah, Mr. MacGyver. Take a seat," Hammond gestured to a chair in front of his desk.

"Thank you, General." MacGyver was a positive picture of civility as he accepted the invitation. "Daniel tells me you've decided to go ahead with a rescue mission to P4X-994," he said. "Said you're sending in three teams."

"Quite correct. I put some of your suggestions to Colonel Makepeace and Major Ferretti and they agree with me that such a mission is feasible."

"I never suggested sending in three teams, General. That's at least two teams too many." MacGyver endeavoured to be calm and reasonable.

"SG-2 and SG-3 will retire immediately back through the Gate upon the successful deployment of SG-1," Hammond explained. "Hopefully the Goa'uld will be left with the impression that everyone has retreated back through the Gate." He gave MacGyver a taut smile. "Smoke and mirrors is what you said. Well, those are the tactics I intend to employ in this situation."

MacGyver regarded the General in pensive silence. He had a strong sense that there was more to come and that it was going to be something that he wasn’t going to like. When Hammond remained silent, MacGyver inquired grimly. "Do I get to go with them, General?"

"Your Phoenix personnel file makes for interesting reading," Hammond responded, tapping a folder that sat before him on the desk. He saw MacGyver raise an eyebrow. "I had Peter Thornton forward me a copy once it became apparent you would be with us for a while. I like to know something about the people I have around here. Especially when they're civilians with a Triple A-6 security rating." He paused briefly before observing, "Unusual that. Normally only high-ranking military personnel hold a Triple A-6 clearance."

MacGyver's eyes narrowed slightly as he wondered where Hammond was heading with that last observation. His security clearance level was no great secret - for those who needed to know it - but a lot of the reasons behind why he held such a high clearance were highly classified and available only to a very few select individuals. He was pretty sure Hammond wasn't one of those individuals. Was the General on some sort of a fishing trip here?

"Does that mean I get to go on the rescue mission?" He enquired, trying to keep his irritation in check. He was well aware of the contents of the personnel files Phoenix held on him.

"As I told you before, I have no authority to allow - "

"A civilian to go through the Gate on this mission," MacGyver cut in with an exasperated sigh. He had heard that one before; too many times. He rose to his feet. "Guess that ends this conversation, doesn't it?" He started heading for the door.

"Not quite," General Hammond responded in his best military command tone. "Looking through this again," he tapped the folder in front of him, "after our rather heated discussion earlier, I placed a call to General Bill Morris at the Pentagon."

MacGyver froze, his hand on the door handle. He knew that name. General Morris was Special Forces. General Morris was one of those very few individuals who had access to certain highly restricted information... Certain high security clearance related information...

A fleeting smile crossed Hammond's face as he witnessed the Phoenix operative's reaction. That got your attention, didn't it, son? By the time MacGyver looked slowly over his shoulder at him, Hammond had an 'all business' expression firmly back in place.

"You ah, want to sit down again?" Hammond enquired. He indicated the chair MacGyver had just vacated, then turned his attention to the laptop computer on his desk and pulled up a file onto his screen. He appeared to give the screen his undivided attention while actually observing MacGyver out of the corner of his eye. The Phoenix operative had a slightly wary expression on his face as he unhurriedly returned to the vacant chair. Hammond smiled inwardly. He could almost see the other man's mind spinning furiously whilst he tried to exude an aura of unconcern.

"Morris and I had a very interesting conversation," Hammond continued.

"Yeah?" MacGyver abandoned his attempt at appearing unconcerned and eyed the General suspiciously.

"Hmm..." Hammond agreed. "He had quite a lot to say about you."

"Well now, General, if I were you, I wouldn't believe even half of what General Morris probably told you. The mention of my name tends to irritate him just a little."

"Ye-es..." Hammond smiled fleetingly at the Phoenix operative, then looked back to his computer screen. "He sent me part of an 'Eyes Only' file... I have it right here..." Out of the corner of his eye he saw MacGyver discernibly stiffen. "You have a very unusual relationship with the military, son," he observed, levelling a penetrating look at MacGyver.

"I've done the odd job for them from time to time," MacGyver conceded warily. He still wasn't entirely sure where Hammond was going with all this tap-dancing, but he'd had just about enough of it. Patience with military brass was not his strongest suit. "Can we just cut to the chase here, General?"

Hammond was hard-pressed to keep a slight smile off his face. "I'd say you've done a lot of military work over the years, son. Assignments more normally associated with Special Forces personnel... Assignments that could have caused a lot of trouble were they to have gone pear-shaped and were U.S. military personnel to have been found to be involved - however remotely - but which if a civilian were to be caught doing, could probably have been disowned much more easily." He saw that MacGyver's patience was unravelling fast and decided to move right along before the man walked out on him again.

"Captain Carter is a fine young officer," he stated. "Thorough. Competent. And with battle experience both here on Earth and also off-world against the Goa'uld. Ordinarily I would have no qualms about her leading SG-1 into the field in the absence of Colonel O'Neill in most circumstances." Hammond saw that he had MacGyver's full attention again. "However, this is a situation where I feel the mission would best be served if SG-1 were to be headed by someone who was highly experienced in covert search and retrieval. A ranking officer, ideally with a Special Forces background and a high security clearance rating. Someone flexible enough to handle a mixed military/non-military team like SG-1."

It was round about that point that MacGyver heard the proverbial drop of the other shoe, which he had been waiting for. He stared at Hammond, dumbstruck.

The General saw the light dawning in the Phoenix operative's dark eyes and made a show of studying the partial file that was still displayed on his computer screen. "I don't suppose you'd know of anyone on this base who might fit that profile, apart from our missing Colonel O'Neill that is? A reserve officer perhaps? Someone so deeply in reserve that the very fact of his still having any official connection to Special Forces at all, is so classified that only a handful of top military personnel know that his being a civilian could actually be described as just a minor technicality?" Hammond said, watching out of the corner of his own eye, the myriad expressions that were rapidly replacing one another in MacGyver's dark eyes.

"I'm sure getting clearance for such an officer to be seconded to the SGC for this particular mission wouldn't be a problem; should that officer, of course, be inclined to volunteer himself for a temporary recall to active duty..." At that point Hammond looked directly at the Phoenix trouble-shooter. "Naturally I would guarantee that only those who had absolute need-to-know would be informed of that officer's rather unique status."

**************************

O'Neill picked up the small bundle of supplies that Seeba had put together for him, along with a warm blanket. She had insisted on providing him with the items once she had finally accepted that he was not staying.

"There is another way out of the caverns which will be safer for you," Seeba said as she clipped his replenished water bottle to its place on his belt for him. "I will show you."

"So this place does have a back door..." O'Neill muttered. He felt a tug at his pants leg and looked down to see little Melia looking up at him. "Hello, sweetheart," he smiled at her. "What's up?"

"Seeba say you go away again," the little girl said unhappily.

"Yeah, sweetheart, that's right," O'Neill lowered himself to one knee, setting his supply bundle down again as he did so. "You remember Daniel and the others who were with me before?" Melia nodded sombrely. "Well, they don't know where I am and they'll be worried about me, so I need to go and find them."

"Do they think you got lost?"

"Yeah, honey, probably. That's why I need to find them so they know I'm okay." O'Neill extended his good hand and gently brushed some of the girl's long hair back from her face.

"Will you come back?" She asked.

"I don't know. It might not be possible," O'Neill answered gently. "But I'll try. Okay? I can't promise, but I will try," he told her as he saw the sadness in her eyes. She made a slightly strangled half-sobbing sound and suddenly threw her arms around his neck. He winced as she inadvertently bumped his bad arm, but gave her a gentle hug in return all the same. Then, steeling himself, he gently detached the youngster and rose to his feet, picking up his supply bundle with his good hand.

"Jack..."

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Be careful, please. There are bad monsters out there..." Melia solemnly announced, gesturing in the general direction of the lake entrance to the caverns.

"I know, honey, and I'll be very careful. Okay?"

The little one nodded up at him, then turned away to go and sit beside Seeba's campfire with the other children. He noticed she wiped at her eyes as she stared into the flames.

O'Neill gave himself a mental shake and got his own feelings firmly into check. "Can we go?" He asked of Seeba. She nodded and began to lead the way across the main cavern.

"Be seein' ya', kids," O'Neill told the other children. Mostly they ignored him, except for Tir, who regarded him with sad eyes and just nodded silently.

As Seeba and O'Neill traversed the cavern, weaving their way around the other campfires and wagons, their way was suddenly blocked by three men.

"There a problem here fellas?" O'Neill inquired in his best casually cordial manner. The other men gave him what could only be described as dark looks before one of them addressed Seeba.

"Honoured One, we're told this Outsider is leaving."

"This is so," Seeba answered.

Oh-oh... Was the thought that instantly crossed O'Neill's mind before the leader of the trio had even opened his mouth. "You guys got a problem with that?" He asked the threesome. His manner remained cordial on the surface, but the undertone was clear. Don't mess with me guys... You'll only regret it.

"Yeah... We do." One of the other men glowered at O’Neill, who met his gaze with dark eyes that were suddenly hard and dangerous despite the expression on his face remaining relatively congenial. The man who had spoken made to step threateningly forward, but the leader of the trio abruptly blocked his path with an arm.

"Honoured One," the spokesman addressed Seeba. "Is it wise to allow the Outsider to leave? He might bring the Hunters down upon us."

"In a pig's eye," O'Neill bristled visibly.

"No, Hesson. Jack will not betray us," Seeba stated with unequivocal conviction. "Should this place be discovered by the Dark Souled Ones, it will not be of his doing. Or that of any of his people who may come here. It will be because someone here was careless when out foraging."

O'Neill did not miss Seeba's pointed tone as she uttered that last remark. He also observed that it was not lost on the threesome either. One, in fact, looked acutely embarrassed, whilst the other two shifted uneasily.

"So, if there's nothing else, guys... you want to step out of the lady's way?" O'Neill interjected at that point. "I kinda' got things to do, places to be. Ya' know how it is... An' I'm runnin' to kind of a tight schedule here..."

The threesome glowered some more, but backed off.

"Yeeah..." O'Neill muttered under his breath as he and Seeba resumed their course across the cavern.

*************************

The three SG teams that were to undertake the rescue mission to P4X-994 were starting to assemble in the conference room for their full mission briefing when Hammond stuck his head out of his office.

"SG-1, I'd like to see you in my office. Now," he announced.

The SG-1 trio exchanged surprised looks as the General retreated from view.

"Wonder what's up now," Daniel said.

"Perhaps General Hammond has changed his mind once again about the mission," Teal'c suggested. He did not look pleased at such a thought.

"I hope not," Carter said as they reached the door and trooped through it.

They discovered MacGyver was still in Hammond's office and was propping up one of the General's filing cabinets. The expression on his face indicated he was not very happy about something, but was resigned to it anyway.

"Close the door please," Hammond requested, settling himself more comfortably in his chair.

"Er... what's up, sir?" It was Carter who voiced the question. She looked dubiously from Hammond to MacGyver and back as Teal'c firmly closed the door.

"You're not letting Mac come with us, are you, General?" Daniel questioned before Hammond had a chance to even open his mouth. "Dammit, that is so unfair!"

"You know, son, for a scientist you're awful quick to jump to conclusions sometimes," Hammond observed, aiming a level look at the young Egyptologist.

Daniel stared, a little taken a-back then he blinked in total confusion.

"What the General means, Daniel, is that I am going to be going with you," MacGyver threw in before Jackson could recover enough to respond.

"You are?" It was Carter who voiced the slightly surprised question.

"Oh yeah," MacGyver said and aimed a look at Hammond. It was a look that Carter did not miss and which set her to wondering just what the heck was going on between those two. Hammond had definitely rattled MacGyver's cage somehow and she was curious about that. She’d been under the impression that it took a lot to get MacGyver seriously rattled.

"Sir, I was under the impression - " Carter began.

"I know you were, Captain, but the situation has changed somewhat," Hammond was all business. "I've been talking to some people at the Pentagon and clearance has been granted for Colonel MacGyver to head up the rescue mission to P4X-994."

The General did not miss MacGyver wince unhappily at the word 'Colonel', nor did he miss the fact that Carter's and Jackson's jaws hit the floor at the same instant, whilst Teal'c expressed his surprise by raising an eyebrow slightly and tilting his head a little.

"This decision is no reflection on your abilities, Captain Carter. Colonel MacGyver," Hammond saw MacGyver wince slightly at 'that' word again, "simply has considerably more experience at covert search and retrieval behind enemy lines than anyone else in this facility, with the possible exception of Colonel O'Neill."

SG-1 stared at MacGyver, who looked acutely uncomfortable. Hammond took pity and rescued him. He had the Phoenix operative over the proverbial barrel after all.

"People, your attention, please, if you don't mind. The fact that Mr. MacGyver is a Colonel with Special Forces Reserves is highly classified information. It does NOT under ANY circumstances go outside this office. Is that understood? As far as anyone else is concerned, the Colonel is technically a civilian."

"Yeah... a civilian over a barrel," MacGyver muttered. His technically civilian status wouldn't get him through the Stargate to go after Jack, but his rather unusual and extremely classified status with the Special Forces Reserves would. It was also, unofficially, partly what granted him the high security clearance that had allowed Hammond to authorise his being able to stay within the mountain facility unsupervised once he'd been released from the infirmary. It granted him access to a lot of places that most civilians would never be allowed. Sometimes it was a blessing and sometimes it was a curse. And sometimes it allowed sneaky, devious Generals like Hammond, with similarly high security clearances, to outmanoeuvre him. Especially when said Generals were on first-name terms with certain other Generals at the Pentagon...

"What was that, Colonel?" Hammond looked round at the Phoenix operative.

"Shouldn't we be getting this show on the road, General?" MacGyver said. "Before the natives start getting restless out there..." He indicated the briefing room where the full complements of SG-2 and SG-3 had assembled and where the majority of which were starting to cast very curious looks towards the glass partition in the wall separating the room from Hammond's office.

*************************

O'Neill lay perfectly still in the depths of some dense shrubbery and hardly dared to breathe. Less than ten feet from his position two Ha'gell warriors were in animated debate about something. At least O'Neill assumed from their manner and the tones of their voices that they were pissed off about something since he couldn't understand a word they were saying.

It was a couple of hours or so since he had emerged from the concealed back-exit of the underground cavern complex. He had left his supply bundle just inside the exit where it would be safely hidden by the exit's illusion of being nothing more than a huge, mossy rock. It was easier for him to move covertly without the bundle and he planned on returning for it in due course once he had scouted the area to his satisfaction and found somewhere suitable to go to ground.

The dense thicket he was in right at that moment didn't exactly rate as his first choice of going-to-ground locations, but for the time being it would have to serve. With two hostiles practically breathing down his neck he had no choice. If he moved, he was dead. Trouble was he hadn't had time to settle in as comfortably as he might otherwise have done and his injuries were consequently giving him gyp; which he was steadfastly trying to ignore.

C’mon, guys... Take it elsewhere will ya‘?

The two hostiles however, didn't appear to be in any hurry to oblige, although they seemed to have run out of steam with regards whatever they had been 'discussing'.

Aw, for cryin' out loud...

The Ha'gell had come to a halt and were settling themselves down on a fallen tree trunk. As O'Neill watched them, they rummaged in pouches at their belts and pulled out what appeared to be food of some description, which they proceeded to devour.

Hope it chokes ya'...

O'Neill sighed softly and resigned himself to staying put for some while.

As he waited, O'Neill studied the two aliens, trying to determine where they might have vulnerable spots should things get real up close and personal. Hand to hand combat with one of those guys was not a pleasant prospect, especially in his present condition. To survive in such a situation, he would need an edge. Any edge. The bigger the better preferably.

The aliens were big. The two he was presently observing were both well over seven foot tall and built like tanks. They were humanoid, but definitely not human. Their skin looked a bit like rhino hide, yet there was something almost feline about their heads. O'Neill noted that they appeared to have six digits on each massive hand.

O'Neill further determined that the two aliens he was looking at were probably the Ha'gell equivalent of Jaffa. Whilst neither carried a gold marking on their forehead, they did both appear to possess belly pouches like the Jaffa... The pouches were quite visible given that the twosome were wearing some sort of harness affair on their upper bodies instead of clothing as such.

A combat knife into one of those pouches could do a lot of damage... O'Neill filed the thought away for future reference.

The two Ha'gell finished their snack and rose to their feet.

'Bout time too...I'm gonna get cramp if I haveta' stay put like this much longer.

The Ha'gell casually tossed their leftovers away into the surrounding shrubbery.

Litter louts! No-one ever told ya' to take your trash home with ya'?

The Ha'gell began to move off. O'Neill watched their departure with a great deal of relief and started to count silently to one hundred before he started to ease himself cautiously out of his emergency hidey-hole.

He scouted carefully around some more and managed to get himself up to a shrubby vantage point near to the crest of the earthworks that surrounded the surface Gate. He noted that the alien warriors now patrolled the earthworks; the Ha'gell had clearly learned that particular lesson.

O'Neill froze in his hidey-hole as a guard approached his position, failed to see him and continued on past. The Colonel risked breathing again and surveyed the Gate area and the enemy encampment.

There seemed to be fewer Ha'gell around than he'd seen previously. Hopefully it was because in all the furore prior to SG-1's departure through the Gate, a lot of them had gotten blown up or otherwise just plain blown away. On the downside, of course, maybe they were just 'gone a-hunting'.

Certainly there was plenty of evidence of SG-1's dramatic departure... Grenade craters... Large charred areas... A nice big hole where there had previously been a small arsenal of staff weapons and some other devices O'Neill had not had the time to examine when he'd been indulging himself in a little infiltration and chaos-and-confusion causing.

O'Neill smiled wickedly. Score one for the good guys.

He froze again as the guard returned. The alien again failed to notice the lurking human practically under his feet, but then the guard probably didn't expect to find one with the nerve to be in such close proximity.

O'Neill blew out a breath slowly and quietly as the alien proceeded on its way.

Turning his attention to the Stargate itself, O'Neill observed a couple of guards were now stationed by the D.H.D. Another lesson the Ha'gell had clearly learned. More guards appeared to be patrolling in a circle around the Gate.

Jack heart sank somewhat. Getting to the Gate a second time was going to be twice as tough as the last attempt had been and this time he didn't have the support of the rest of SG-1.

Dammit

There was no sign that a probe had been sent back from Earth yet though. That was something at least. It meant he still had time to think up some means of signalling it when it did come through. How much time, of course, was something else entirely.

*************************

"Anyone have any more questions?" General Hammond enquired, looking around at the three SG teams ranged around the briefing room. He saw a lot of grim head-shaking and swivelled his chair around slightly so he could better regard MacGyver, who was standing beside a large whiteboard upon which a detailed tactical layout had been drawn.

The civilian-come-Special Forces Reservist had headed up the briefing and Hammond had been impressed by the way MacGyver had handled the task. Especially given that the bulk of those who were being briefed were career military with absolutely no idea that the man was anything more than the civilian he appeared to be. Career military generally didn't take kindly to having a game-plan laid out for them for a hazardous mission by a mere civilian. MacGyver had handled them expertly.

Hammond had been a little surprised by the discovery that MacGyver had a couple of allies already in the ranks of SG-3, but it was all to the good. And he had observed that SG-1 had fallen in behind the Phoenix operative much as they would have done behind the missing Colonel O'Neill. It clearly made no difference to them whether MacGyver was military, or civilian, or had two heads and a tail with purple spots on it. He was one of their own and they would follow his lead wherever it took them.

Damn' but the boy is good. The thought persisted in Hammond's mind. Wonder what it would take to lure him away from the Phoenix Foundation to work for the SGC?

"Anything else you'd care to add, Mister MacGyver?" The General asked when it became apparent that no-one seemed to have any questions left to ask the man.

"No, sir," MacGyver shook his head. "I think we've covered about everything we can cover at this stage."

Hammond nodded and swivelled his chair back to face the gathered troops again.

"Alright, people. That's it. Dismissed."

*************************

O'Neill meanwhile, had begun to make his way back to where he had left his supply bundle, with the intention of collecting it and returning with it to the spot he had finally selected to serve as his primary observation and sitting-out-the-duration post.

He moved with caution as much to keep the discomfort from his injuries to a minimum as to also avoid detection by the enemy.

The sounds of someone or something moving rapidly through the woodland sent him scurrying rapidly into cover. A man came into view. A man in an almighty and reckless hurry. O'Neill recognised him as being one of the threesome he and Seeba had had the minor run-in with down in the caverns.

Not far behind the man were three Ha'gell.

The entire group was all headed O'Neill's way.

The Colonel sought to sink into deeper cover without drawing attention to himself, which wasn't easy. He was still moving as the Hunters' quarry shot blindly past him in terror-stricken panic. Not about to get himself involved in the situation, O'Neill made no attempt to help the other man out of his predicament. He continued to sink further into cover.

Just as the aliens neared his position, O'Neill heard an ominously loud snapping sound underfoot. Despite desperation not to, he yelped in pained startlement as something clamped viciously shut on his ankle and jerked him completely off-balance.

The aliens would have had to have been totally deaf as well as completely blind to miss the yelp accompanied by the sudden violent movement of the shrubbery as O'Neill tried desperately, but failed, to stay up-right.

Before the Colonel had a chance to do anything to even remotely try to salvage the situation, he found himself on the ground staring up through a pained haze at the business ends of three powered-up staff weapons in the hands of three of the biggest, ugliest and downright nastiest-looking aliens it had ever been his misfortune to encounter.

"Hey guys..." he said with a conviviality he most definitely did not feel. "Don't suppose ya' got a set of bolt cutters, do ya'?" As he spoke, he waggled his left leg. That action rattled the length of chain that was attached to the metal-jawed trap that had clamped itself to his ankle.

*************************

"Er... sir... Excuse me, but could I have a word, sir?"

Samantha Carter ambushed MacGyver as he left the briefing room some ten minutes after everyone else - except General Hammond - had long-since departed to go about their business.

"You don't need to keep 'sir-ing' me, Sam. I'm a civilian, remember?" MacGyver smiled. He hated being 'sir-ed'.

Sam glanced up and down the corridor as if checking for eavesdroppers. No-one else was anywhere in sight. "But that's the point, Colonel," she began and noticed him flinch slightly at the word 'Colonel'. "Sir..." she tried to amend her apparent gaff, then realised she was probably only going to make matters worse and instead, plunged on with, "You aren't exactly a..." She glanced up and down the corridor again, almost furtively as if she were about to say a bad word. "...civilian." Getting totally flustered by the slightly amused look that she saw creeping into the man's dark eyes, she took a deep breath and went on. "I'm sorry, sir, it's just that I'm not too comfortable with this, ah... situation."

"You're not the only one, Sam, believe me." The honesty of MacGyver's response surprised the Captain. She stared up at him as he went on. "I would have much preferred it if the General had left things well enough alone. Unfortunately he seems to know the right people to get answers to the right questions from in certain high places."

"Yes, sir," Carter agreed as the two of them proceeded unhurriedly along the corridor.

"You're 'sir-ing' me again, Sam," MacGyver smiled with some amusement.

"Yes, sir. I mean, Colonel. I mean..." Carter floundered.

"Look, just call me MacGyver or Mac. I'm still the same guy I was an hour ago," the tall Phoenix operative said.

"Yes, sir," Carter nodded. "I'm sorry," she apologised hastily. "It's just I feel awkward about this. I mean you're a Colonel and I'm a Captain. It just doesn't seem right not to address you as - "

"Look, technically I am a civilian. The General only told you and the rest of SG-1 about... well... you know, because I guess he figured it would make things easier for someone career-military like yourself, to follow my instructions in the field." MacGyver halted and stood facing the young woman. "I know how much you military types just hate to have a civilian telling you what to do." Carter saw the smile that appeared on his face as he added. "Probably hate it about as much as I hate desk-bound military Brass trying to tell me how to do what I do." Then his expression became more serious. "Out there," he gestured vaguely, "is no place to be debating who the team-leader is. People can get killed that way and I don't do what I do to get people killed. My job - whether as a civilian, or for the military - is to help people and to get them out alive out of whatever mess they're in. And if I get sent out with a team - which, I admit, isn't very often since I prefer to work alone - it's my job to bring them all back alive too and preferably all in one piece. And I take that kinda' seriously."

"I can appreciate that, Colonel..." Sam Carter nodded. What the man was saying made sense to her military outlook. If they had gone out into the field with 'a civilian' ostensibly in charge, she would probably have constantly argued tactics with him. However, if a higher ranking officer - albeit a reservist after a fashion - was put in command, while she might debate tactics with him, ingrained military discipline would force her to defer to his decisions, no matter how odd they might seem, before things got dangerously out of hand. A hot battlefield was no place to hold an argument.

"I still feel a little awkward though, Ss - MacGyver," she confessed.

"Yeeah..." the man smiled a smile of agreement at her. "Me too." Carter saw a slightly mischievous twinkle enter his dark eyes as he went on. "I think I ought to warn you about something though, Sam."

"Sir?" She responded, frowning, a little puzzled as he started to move off down the corridor, still limping noticeably.

"I don't do things by the book. Never even read it. Found a whole heap of much better uses for it in my time. That's why, technically, I'm a civilian."

*************************

The Ha'gell warriors made short work of extricating O'Neill from the leg trap he had so inadvertently stepped into, but not before they fastened a metal collar device around his neck. When he tried to object, he was casually back-handed; the blow stunning him into submission. He was still seeing stars as he was hauled to his feet and prodded to move.

O'Neill was grateful for the sturdiness of military issue boots. His left ankle hurt, but at least it wasn't broken and he could walk on it. He knew it was severely bruised, but his boot had saved it from the more vicious aspects of the trap.

"Guess this means go straight to jail... do not pass go... do not collect two hundred bucks..." he remarked, cradling his throbbing right forearm as he limped in the direction indicated by his captors.

One of the aliens snapped something incomprehensible and jabbed him in the back with the business-end of its staff weapon.

"Okay, okay, I'm goin', I'm goin'..." O'Neill retorted. "Don't you guys have any sense of humour?"

The alien jabbed again, this time catching O'Neill's injured side from behind, drawing a gasp of pain from him and causing him to stumble blindly for a moment.

"Guess not..." he muttered under his breath once he'd got his equilibrium back.

He was taken to the heart of the Ha'gell encampment, where he got an up-close look at the damage he and SG-1 had caused. He viewed it with a sense of ironic satisfaction. "You know, you guys are a bunch of real messy campers," he remarked as a massive hand clamped onto his shoulder, abruptly halting him. "Hey...!" He began to object, the objection turning into a grunt of pain as something slammed the back of his legs, effectively buckling them and forcing him to drop to his knees. "Ya' coulda' tried just askin'," he protested, glaring round at the alien. Unfortunately the Ha'gell had had enough of its prisoner's lippiness and casually back-handed him.

With a pained gasp, O'Neill went sprawling, instinctively twisting to try to protect his broken arm. It saved his arm, but did nothing for his injured side. He just lay where he was, fighting down the pain until he was unceremoniously hauled back up onto his knees by his captors. When they released him, he ignored them and just sat back on his heels and concentrated on controlling the pain.

As he began to recover, he became aware of an alien standing directly in front of him. He began to look up, but obviously not quick enough for his captors. One of them grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head back, forcing him to look up. He found himself blinking at a Ha'gell that looked oddly familiar...

"So..." the alien observed, its eyes glowing. "We meet again."

*************************

TO BE CONTINUED

In The Next Instalment