Why do all the bad things always seem to happen to me?

Okay Jack, dumb question. Bad things always happen to you because you let them. You make yourself a target. And letting them know that you're the leader of our little team doesn't help, but still, what did I do to deserve this?

I try to see my tormenters, but I can't. They have me staked out spread eagled on the dusty ground, my hands and feet tied to stakes. It's familiar in a macabre sort of way. Teal'c and I saw a western at my place not long ago. We had been sitting there, drinking ice-cold beers and watching the television. 

The hero had been staked out, just like this, in the blazing sun and left to die.

Only, that was Hollywood. The hero was rescued and killed the bad guys without showing any ill effects. I wont be so lucky. They beat me before I would submit to this. Jaffa I had never heard of had beaten me unconscious and staked me out here in the blazing suns to die.

Just like Hollywood, only on this planet they have three suns.

Teal'c would know who these mysterious Jaffa were, but he's not here, is he?

I didn't know who they were but they sure as hell knew who I was. 

Maybe it's the gray hair, no other person in any active SG unit has hair quite as… distinguished as mine.

I don't know what it was, really. Maybe just bad luck. My tongue is big in my mouth, and my misery is made worse by the light dust that the breeze tends to blow into my eyes, making them irritable.

I know that I am dehydrated, because I have no more tears left to wash them out. I try to shift my body, try to move my hands once more and moan silently at the pain. Silently because I know that the Jaffa are still around, somewhere. I struggled when I first regained consciousness, tied to these stakes. I couldn't see them so I irrationally thought they had left through the stargate, leaving me to my fate.

I had struggled mightily, eventually moving the stake my right hand was tied to. Freedom was so close.

The suns are blazing down now, reaching midday I guess. I wonder if the rest of my team realize that I'm actually in trouble. A more frightening thought then occurs. Have the Jaffa found the caves? Have they found my team?

I know that they are searching for them, but the cave entrance is well hidden, it was only by accident that we found it in the first place.

These bastards have asked me quite a few times now for their whereabouts, but I'm not telling, no matter how many times they kick me. In a perverse way all this is my fault, but I can't help it if I have the attention span of a five year old. All those hieroglyf things were boring. I'm an action kinda guy, and even Teal'c was acting like a academic, so I wondered away and climbed back to the surface, figuring that sunshine and fresh air was a lot healthier. 

Bad mistake. 

Very very bad mistake.

I've been trying to loosen any other stake, but these mysterious Jaffa have made damn sure that the remaining three are good and anchored, so now I'm working on the straps holding my other arm. It seems to be tied nice and tight with something that feels like leather, and my blunt fingernails are making it an almost impossible job. I have been working on the knot for hours now, with no real results.

One of the three suns is setting, the sky full of pretty whorls of cloud. I must have lost unconsciousness for a while there, because last time I looked the suns were higher than that. One of the Jaffa is back, looking down at me, asking unanswerable questions in heavily accented English. 

I ignore him. 

Unfortunately he doesn't ignore me. Pity. Mystery of the Universe No 2432, why do all Jaffa have such big feet? I can't help but groan as yet another rib breaks, and I hate myself for it.

At least the air is cooler. I take a deep breath, allowing the coolness to flow down my throat and into my lungs. It's not water, but after the heat of the day, anything cool will do.

Suddenly I hear faint staff weapons fire, and the man stiffens. 

Oh God. They've found my team. I struggle, to no avail, making my tormentor smile and swing at me with his own staff weapon, breaking my jaw. Oh man that hurts, more than having my arm stomped on. But there are some advantages, at least I can no longer tell them things. Then I hear the stutter of our own weapons replying, and realize that they have no need of asking me, ever again.

I hear a stream of Gua'old language, and my Jaffa friends stomp off, no doubt happy to finally have found their prey at last. I resume my struggling, hoping that I can maybe kick a stake loose, but to no avail. I'm just too weak. A day of solid sunshine coupled with broken bones all over the place have taken all the fight out of me. All I can do is wait. All I can do is lie here and wait for whomever comes back to finish me off. All I can do is wait to die.

Then suddenly I hear the stargate. Chevron one, chevron two. Is it their Gua'old master? Or maybe General Hammond has finally cottoned on to the fact that we are way behind fashionably late this time.

Chevron four, five, six…seven. The event horizon whooshes open, but I can't see it. I try, but the gate is just outside visual range. 

Then I hear a sound that should bring tears to my eyes, if I had any tears to spare. A MALP. Its mechanical whine is unmistakable. 

Oh, thank God. 

 The machine stops somewhere close and I hear the whirr of its camera, hesitating as the impersonal eye finally finds me, then continuing as they search for my captors.

" Son. Can you hear me?"

I nod frantically at the disembodied voice. Yessir General, I hear you. Send the marines, quick, before it's too late.

" Can you tell us what is going on?" I sag back and make inarticulate noises. Come on General. Can't you see that my jaw is broken?

There is silence as he confers with someone, probably Dr Frasier. I shut my eyes and try very hard to send a telepathic message to a man who is a trillion light years away. Please sir, send in the marines.

" Hold on tight son, SG 2 and 3 are on their way."

Oh thank you General. Ferretti's SG 2 and the Marines. I'll never call them Jarheads again, and I'll even let them beat us at hockey. Maybe. Then with a sucking sound my comrades are here. 

"Colonel?" I painfully squint up into brown eyes set in a petite face. What's she doing here? Lou Ferretti is busy with a knife, cutting loose the leather bindings, freeing me. I hear the wormhole deactivate with a snap.

Damn. Why my jaw? I desperately want to issue a whole slew of orders, but I can't talk, see properly, nor move, even with my hands and feet freed. All I can do is painfully blink at Lou with my eyes, trying to convey my desperation.

Find them. Bring them home.

My flyboy buddy nods. Somehow he has heard me.

" We'll find them Jack. Don't worry." I raise an eyebrow at his unexpected use of my first name. Do I look that badly injured?

Thinking back I concede that maybe I do.

Then someone reactivates the wormhole from our side, and I am gently carried from this hell planet.

Lights, swaying, people shouting, disturbing me with their intensity.

My body hurts, my skin itches, my eyes are smarting.

I really want to scratch the burning, but I can't. 

I promise myself that when I recover I am going to stay on the base and out of the sun for at least a month.

Then Dr Frasier and her team are lifting me onto a bed. 

I awaken to complete darkness.

I should be worried, but after staring up into blazing sunshine, it is a total relief.

I should be worried, frantic that I can’t see, but I’m not. I know that I am drugged.

I feel at home, warm and safe. And even better than that, I feel Daniel's weight pinning down one leg. If he is alive…

I reach out with my good arm and shake him awake.

" Dhnl?"

" Jack, thank God."

I love it when his grogginess changes to joy. It always makes me feel wanted and needed.

" Sn n Trk?"

Daniel is always on my wavelength. "We're all fine. The only casualty is you."

" Mmn hrrs?

"Your eyes?" I feel his warm hand on my arm, preventing me from investigating.

" Doc says that your eyes will be fine."

I hear Doc Frasier’s quiet footsteps stop above my head.

" Colonel, It was the dust. That, along with the dehydration turned the inside of your eyelids into sand paper."

Her clothing rustles and I feel a rich warmth through my veins. 

" Sleep now, and we’ll talk again tomorrow."

Daniel wasn’t quite finished yet.

I felt his hand take mine, squeezing gently.

" I’m sorry Jack." His voice sounded miserable. "We could see you. Far in the distance, but there were too many Jaffa. At least forty."

I try to squeeze his hand back in understanding, but the drugs have stolen my strength.

He shudders slightly. " God Jack. When we saw you, pinned down like that…"

Well, we thought that SG1 was leaderless."

I frown. Not yet.

I still have a truckful of Gua'old to beat.

I sleep

*Einde*