SUMMARY: A fire breaks out on the twentieth floor in Cheyenne Mountain.

Those caught above the fire can evacuate, but those below it are doomed…

...or are they?

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Aargh, I’m sorry, I borrowed Joe-again.

Blame Badgergator.

She came up with such a great brother for Jack, how could I possibly invent anybody else??

(Besides, who else could General Hammond find comfort in talking to in a time of such great crisis??)

Huh?? Read on and find out..

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It was an awesome sight. A deadly sight, had anybody been around to see it. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the people responsible for maintenance in that part of NORAD had been given time off. Painting walls was a hazardous job at the best of times, what with the noxious fumes that particular blend of paint gave out, but coupled with painting in what was really a big cave twenty floors down… well, the maintenance team were dizzy and sweating by the time their sergeant suggested a well earned break.

That was the major reason why the paint cans were not stowed away properly, stacked neatly with their lids firmly shut. Any other time they would have got away with it, returning to finish the job and discard the now empty paint cans.

Not that day.

That particular day a shoddy piece of sub-standard wiring fitted by bored Air Force personnel decades ago finally decided to rebel and short out.

That again shouldn’t have been anything to worry about. Lights were always shorting out all over Cheyenne Mountain. The problem had gotten so bad that that particular section of maintenance had taken to keeping as many spare bulbs on their person as possible whilst on duty, just in case. They invariably ended up with nothing by the end of the day.

So, a light bulb shorting out in a shower of sparks was to be expected. That it would short out in a freshly painted room with open paint cans sitting innocently on the floor below wasn’t.

The result was similar to a bomb going off in an enclosed space, the resulting fire becoming a living thing, instantly licking the ceiling, glorifying in the still wet paint, joyously rising to the ceiling lapping up the cool oxygen being fed to it by the two air conditioning units. Increasing in temperature with every second of life, it once more screamed towards the floor, instantly sending everything below it ablaze. The paint-specked tarpaulin carefully covering the solid oak desk and chair instantly burst into flames, taking everything else it covered along with it. The fire had now become so hot, even the fire retardant carpet was consumed. Everything was eaten by that orange crackling hell, until there’s nothing left in that room but fire itself.

To their credit, the smoke detectors began their wails long before being melted into slag, had anybody been around to hear them, and the ceiling mounted fire sprinklers did try to do their job.

However they did more harm than good. Add water to a chemical fire and you get nothing more than a river of burning destruction, one that slowly flowed to the edges of the room to eat at the walls and door. A chemical fire needs foam, and lots of it, something not available in that room at that time. Hotter and hotter the fire became, rapturously consuming all the fuel it could find until there was nothing left. Then the air conditioning ducts themselves became its target. Fibers and other flammable material had collected in the ducts over the years, a fire hazard that had gone unnoticed by the jaded maintenance crews delegated to inspect the ducts on a regular basis. This too was added to the conflagration allowing the fire to slowly crawl along the oxygenated ducts until it found other empty offices to burn, their personnel having long left for the day due to the paint fumes.

Soon the entire floor was ablaze, effectively cutting the levels of Cheyenne Mountain in half, creating the one thing all experienced firemen dreaded, an uncontrollable underground fire.

A fire tends to work its way upward, consuming anything and everything in its path, stopping at nothing in its quest for life giving oxygen. The people facing the daunting task stopping this fire knew that if the Air Force personnel could be evacuated deep enough into the mountain, they would stand a good chance of not being burned. Nevertheless, they would die anyway. The firemen knew fire. They knew it intimately. They knew that fire needed certain things in order to survive, things they had to deny it in order to kill it. Things like oxygen and fuel. In order to save the floors above the fire they had to stop the fire from feeding, from spreading. They had to cut the oxygen, and add water to the fuel. That was the only way to kill fire. They had to cut off the oxygen to the Mountain and try to hose down the floor, now floors, where fire lurked, hoping against hope that the fire wouldn’t resist too much.

The longer fire resists, the worse it becomes.

The survivors would become victims. They would have no fresh oxygen to sustain them, and what little they had would be denied to them, drawn upwards by the hungry fire.

Oh sure, it would be hardly noticeable at first. Fire is an insidious killer. The temperature would slowly rise as the fire slowly worked its way down into the Mountain, the enclosed cave like atmosphere doubling the intensity of the fire to extreme oven-like temperatures as it found new fuel to eat. The victims were destined to die in one of two ways, either by asphyxiation or by heat, unless the firemen were able to stop the fire in its tracks. To a man they prayed they could. But they had a severe problem with that scenario. They had the personnel to combat the fire, and the willpower to overcome any obstacles, save one. They could not get close to the fire. The hollowed out Mountain had turned into one gigantic flue, sending searing heat at the brave men, denying them the chance of becoming heroes. All they could do was feed water into levels, hoping against hope that when they had finally vanquished the fire, there would be some people left. That despite the odds, some victims had managed to overcome the heat and smoke to eventually triumph as survivors.

The fire rescuers betting pool already stood at 33 to 1 against.

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Sergeant Davies was the first to notice the change. Stuck away in the lonely control room, he had gotten used to the slight discordant rattle of the air conditioner. It had become his friend, telling him that others worked somewhere else in the mountain as well. Making him not feel so lonely. That was why he was the first to notice the lack of movement. Instinctively saving what he was doing, he slowly rose to his feet, listening intently. Listening for something that was no longer there, his hand blindly searching for the slight breeze. He became aware that the whole area had gone silent, that muted hum that had become part of his daily life was completely silent

Frowning in puzzlement he once more sat down, contemplating what he should do. Protocol dictated that anything out of the ordinary should be reported to the base commander, but General Hammond was in Washington, and Colonel O’Neill had given everyone strict instructions not to disturb him unless it was life or death. After a moments deep thought, the mild mannered man figured out that a distinct lack of oxygen could fit that description nicely, so taking a deep breath he hesitantly raised the receiver to his ear and dialed.

Davies would never know how thankful Colonel Jack O’Neill was to have something, anything, distract him from the seemingly endless base requisition forms. Sure, having an aide of the caliber of Sergeant De Souza helped greatly, nevertheless, by the time the call interrupted them O’Neill was more than willing to throw all the reports bodily into the nearest shredder, and if his aide insisted on hanging on to them, then he wasn’t above shredding him too. It seemed way too suspicious that General Hammond had been recalled to Washington just when all the forms were due to be filled out, and they had to be done and sent off to Washington as soon as possible, or the SGC would run out of, heaven forbid, such necessary items as…good grief.

" Pablo?" Jack O’Neill gestured towards the innocuous yellow form, his eyebrows raised.

His dark haired aide gave him a grin, his eyes sparkling. " You can tell Major Carter yourself if this one doesn’t get through…sir."

O’Neill grunted and scribbled his signature at the bottom.

" Purleeze tell me this is the last one. After signing my name to a requisition order for a thousand, um…" He peered myopically at the form, " super deluxe tampons, I really don’t have the strength to go on." To prove his point he sank back in his chair and regarded his aide with a belligerent expression. " Especially after that."

De Souza smiled, well used to his boss. " One more sir, for soap, and we’re done."

O’Neill grunted and lifted his pen. " Didn’t General Hammond do this to me last year this time? I seem to recall…"

His aide nodded. " Yes sir. Last year he took a couple of weeks leave. That was when you ordered that I…"

A ringing phone interrupted them, snapped up by a reprieved man.

" O’Neill."

De Souza waited patiently, watching the emotions play across the Colonels face. He always found it strange that there were two distinct sides to Colonel O’Neill, One side a pal, a friend that you could tell all your woes to. And then there was the other side, the dark side, if you wanted to get poetic about things.

That side of O’Neill Pablo hated with a passion. Colonel Jack O’Neill also had an icy dedicated soldier side of him that screamed out that he was more than just a pal, he was also your commanding officer, and a man quite capable of ordering you to your death if need be. Pablo had come close to O’Neill’s dark side twice before in his career.

Both incidents still gave him nightmares.

" Log this in the incident report and I’ll be there to see for myself in a while."

He listened intently for a moment. " No, you did the right thing Davies."

Ahah, so it was the control room calling. De Souza watched with a sinking heart as an expressionless mask slowly stiffened O’Neill’s face.

Again he listened. " Quite right. Get the rest of SG1 on it as well, okay?" He sat upright and pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign of stress. " And you say you smell smoke? From where?" Again he listened. " Okay, I’ll be there in a second. In the meantime I want you to get the rest of SG1 and find out what made the air conditioners to stop." He hesitated, " Can your computers tell you this?" Apparently satisfied he replaced the receiver and turned to De Souza.

" Pablo, I want you to contact NORAD and ask what the hell they’re up to. If they have a problem with the air conditioners, I want them to fix it ASAP. Tell them that we can’t work for more than an hour down here before the air starts going bad."

De Souza straightened. " Yes sir."

His puzzled expression made O’Neill sigh. " What is it?"

" Don’t we have the air conditioning units in our basement, sir?"

He was treated to a carefully cultured sardonic look. " De Souza, don’t be an idiot. This is a mountain. We don’t have a basement." He swept out before his aide could reply.

Colonel Jack O’Neill knew that he was having a bad day, one that was destined to get worse. Why things like disasters always seemed to dog him was another mystery of mankind thing, probably number 9672.

Whatever. All he knew for a fact was that the air conditioning was definitely not working, and the hallway seemed to be full of, what was that white stuff?

Brushing ineffectively at his uniform, he climbed into the elevator, frowning at the slight breeze he felt as he stepped in. To quote Shakespeare, something was definitely up. Okay, maybe it wasn’t Shakespeare, but nevertheless… He felt a small smidgeon of relief when the lift smoothly descended to the twenty-eighth floor, alighting with a sigh.

The air was better down here, although the missing hum of the air conditioning units was quite disconcerting, to say the least.

" Kids, report." Four heads turned to stare at him, two male, one female and one definitely Jaffa.

" Colonel." Carter beat Davis to the punch, but only just. " Colonel, we have no communications for any area above level twenty-one." O’ Neill looked over her shoulder at the computer monitor, waiting patiently for her to explain what he could already see, that there was absolutely no indication of any floor above the SGC. It was as if everybody at NORAD had switched the lights out and gone home.

" Carter, any ideas?" The blonde Major shrugged, he blue eyes thoughtful. " Quite frankly, no. Everything seems to be down, phone lines included."

That gave him pause for thought. " Everything?"

She shook her head. " Nothing works sir."

Daniel Jackson backed her up. " She’s right Jack. We have no phones to the outside world, no faxes… nada."

That bit of Spanish reminded Jack of someone. Picking up the nearest phone he called his office.

" Pablo, anything?"

They waited silently as he listened. " Okay, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to proceed calmly down here to the gateroom, via the infirmary. Tell Fraiser that we may have to evacuate the base. She must be ready to go at a moments notice."

Replacing the receiver he once more faced the incredulous faces.

" What?" Daniel looked suspicious. " What do you know that we don’t Jack?"

O’Neill faced them square on. " Ash." He brushed uselessly at his uniform, leaving a gray smear.

It was Teal’c who cottoned on first. " Then we must evacuate through the Stargate as quickly as possible, taking as many as possible."

Jack nodded at his friend. " Oh ya, before the power goes." He held up his finger, " But only if I’m right, and that I’ll attempt to prove by trying to reach NORAD. Hopefully it’s not as bad as we think.

Sergeant Davies spoke for the first time. " Maybe not yet sir, but it’s sure getting that way."

When he had SG1’s attention he continued.

" The smoke detectors should have gone off at least. They’re situated on alternate floors, on the twenty second floor, the twenty fourth floor and so on. They’re silent, which leads me to believe that the fire is so hot they were turned to slag before they could utter a sound." To reinforce his claim the first of the smoke alarms in the hallway outside the control room started to moan eerily.

" Ah hell, that means we may be dealing with injured people and fatalities." O Neill clenched his jaw. " Carter, send out the evacuation order, all able bodied personnel to report to the Gateroom at once." He swung to Davies as the klaxons began to wail. " Sergeant, get us a nice uninhabited Jaffa free planet immediately, something like…PG6…"

Sergeant Davies nodded. " No problem sir," he interrupted. "PG6 0NP. It’s already zoned as an offworld base, with food and medical supplies stockpiled, just in case."

He became aware of Colonel O’Neill looking at him keenly. " Sergeant, when we’re finished with this I will want to know how come you are privy to ultra top secret information, but in the meantime I want you to open that gate as quick as possible, okay?"

Davies cringed, allowing the computer to speak for him.

" Chevron one locked…"

A short stocky brown haired man rushed into the already overcrowded control room. " Colonel, what in the hell is happening, sir?" he shouted.

O’Neill smiled in relief at Major Ferretti, leader of SG2. " Louis, glad to see you’re still on base. I believe we may have a major fire in NORAD, somewhere between levels sixteen and twenty. If I’m right, we’re gonna have to evacuate the SGC." He patted his friend on the back. " Hopefully I’m not, and we can all stand down. I’m going to take Teal’c, go up there, and find out for sure. What I want you to do is lead the assembled personnel to PG6 0NP, just in case. Okay?"

To his consternation, Major Ferretti didn’t move. " Sorry sir, but no. SGC Regulations clearly state that the base’s superior officer must be the first one through to a new location in the case of an evacuation, and that’s you." The crowded control room became silent as the leader of SG2 stared at the leader of SG1, both unwilling to give ground, before O’Neill’s eyes flickered, signifying his defeat.

" Hell, I know you’re right, Louis, I just find it galling…"

The short man smiled. " I know. Tell you what, you step through and take these people to safety, and we’ll follow shortly with the armory, okay?"

O’Neill blanched. " Oh for Pete’s sake, I can’t believe that I forgot about the armory. If that goes…"

Major Carter stepped up to them. " It won’t. I’ve got people moving crates out as we speak." She was pleased to see him smile at her gratefully.

" Okay then," he murmured, " We still have SG8 and 11 off planet, but I’ll…" His voice was drowned out as the wormhole opened with a familiar whoosh. " I’ll retrieve them from flipside." When they both nodded, he looked at them gravely. " We better be right about all this, or I’ll be cleaning F16’s with a toothbrush in Saudi for a year."

Ferretti gave him a long look. "Sorry sir, I can’t hear you over the wailing of the smoke detectors, sir." When O’Neill grinned Ferretti bowed theatrically. " We’ll see you shortly, Oh gallant leader."

With that, he and Teal’c disappeared in a swirl of white smoke.

Still grinning lightly, Jack O’Neill turned to the crowded control room and cupped his hands to his mouth. " All personnel are to evacuate in the prescribed order. Team leaders, fall in."

Once again military training triumphed, with officers immediately stamping to attention. To O’Neill’s horror it was immediately apparent that Captain Greaves from Technical services was absent.

"Daniel?"

Daniel Jackson knew what he meant; exchanging a dark look with O’Neill through the thickening smoke he took Greaves’s place.

" People, proceed to the gateroom floor, collect your sections and wait for my command." With a muffled crump of assertion, all twelve section leaders clumped down the stairs to the floor, flawlessly collecting their assigned personnel.

" Ah, the Military Machine. How I love it," O’Neill muttered to the almost empty control room.

" Okay then, Sergeant De Souza, you’re with me." His eyes found Samantha Carter. " Sam, you and Sergeant Davies get the stargate addresses for SG8 and 11 and follow, alright?"

When they nodded, he lightly vaulted over the railing, landing to one side of the assembled crowd with a clang.

" All SG teams are to help clear the people away from the gate when we arrive," he yelled, knowing that for most personnel this would be their first trip. They would be nauseous and have to be helped away from the gate. He then walked up to the shimmering event horizon and stuck his hand in it, effectively keeping the wormhole open.

" Let’s go."

They went. Medical went first, everyone carrying as many things as they could, with a grim faced Doctor Fraiser trading him a long look. They would need to set up immediately, just in case of casualties, which seemed more likely with each minute. Then technical, with Daniel Jackson at their head. Power was the next priority, for the Doctors would need that in order to operate.

Maintenance went next, sent to help out technical, followed by the security contingent on high alert, just in case of any nasty surprises. Cooks carrying pots, MP’s, SF’s, records clerks dragging behind cabinets, all filed calmly past Colonel Jack O’Neill, until the only people left were Davies, Carter, De Souza and himself.

" Time to go kids," he yelled. He was pleased to see Carter and Davies immediately leave the bank of computers and ascend the stairs at a rapid pace. Not that he could blame them. The smoke was so thick he was having difficulty seeing, and the thought of a lungful of clean air was beginning to seem like a distant dream. That coupled with the icy pain caused by holding open a sub zero wormhole was beginning to make his mind wander.

" Sir…SIR!"

He blinked at Carter through his tears. " WHAT?"

" I’ve sent an e-mail to General Hammond and told him where we’ve gone sir." She wasn’t making sense anymore, so he just nodded, desperately looking for Major Ferretti and Teal’c. They should have arrived back by now, and the thought that they might have been prevented from doing so for some reason was filling him with dread. He suddenly became aware that Carter, De Souza, and Davies were all still standing around him looking as anxious as he felt.

" Leave kids." They all turned and looked at him. " Leave. Now…order. GO."

Thank God they were used to obeying orders. He watched with a grimace as they reluctantly entered the wormhole, Carter last of all. Now he was alone in a base with two lost friends and a roaring fire. It didn’t take much intelligence to realize that the rise in temperature wasn’t due to lack of air, and there was a sound like an express train far in the distance that he knew just had to be trouble.

" Teal’c… Ferretti," he roared, but there was no reply.

He was suddenly racked by violent coughing, the smoke so thick now that he couldn’t see across the gateroom anymore. An awful thought occurred to him. If the gateroom went, just how were they going to get home? Sure the Stargate was indestructible, but the computers weren’t. And if they melted, no one would even know that anyone survived at all. Maybe they would think that they had all perished. Wait a minute Carter had told him … something. Oh yes e-mail. Stupid. It was an act of desperation. They had no phones. Another deep cough wracked his body, and it took all his willpower to keep his hand in the event horizon as he fell to his knees. If he didn’t keep the wormhole open they were doomed. That he knew, even as his smoke dulled brain tried to grasp why he could see yellow flames in the control room. Teal’c and Louis Ferretti were dead unless they came right now.

He tried to call out to them again, wordlessly, as the oxygen in the room was eventually depleted, but they weren’t around to hear. He was alone. Alone, and dying with no oxygen and no strength to save himself. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, two masked figures had him in

a vice-like grip. The cold and darkness hit him simultaneously.

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" He was stupid."

Jack O’Neill lay in something suspiciously like a sleeping bag and allowed the voices to echo around his skull as full consciousness slowly returned to him.

" He was stupid, but not as stupid as you two were. Didn’t it even occur to you that he might be trapped keeping the gate open without a mask?"

O’Neill almost smiled at the petulant tone in Ferretti’s voice. " I’m sorry Janet. We just didn’t think. We were so preoccupied with making sure there were no survivors that we didn’t even think of the Colonel."

The deep voice of Teal’c added to the fray. " Major Ferretti is correct. Had I realized that O’Neill continued to hold the eye open I would have rushed an oxygen mask to him immediately. It is to my eternal shame that I thought that he had abandoned us.

Major Carter sounded outraged. " Teal’c, has he ever abandoned us before?"

The slow tones of Daniel answered her. " No, and Teal’c knows that Sam. But remember, this time he has the entire SGC depending on him. I rather think that he and Louis thought he was one of the first through."

Carter was still incredulous. " The Colonel?"

Daniel’s voice was wry. " Dumb thing to think, as I’m sure they realize now."

" Indeed."

Pablo De Souza stood to one side of Colonel O’Neill’s bed, watching the soft recrimination and self-recriminations going on between SG1 and the leader of SG2, and was consequently the first person who saw O’Neill’s hand move.

" Doctor Fraiser," he hissed, " I believe Colonel O’Neill is waking up."

Janet Fraiser was there like a shot, leaning over her patient in a professional manner.

" Colonel? Colonel O’Neill, can you hear me?"

She was gratified to see two sleepy eyes open and look at her. " Wha…" He frowned, suddenly realizing that he had a clear oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. Pushing it to one side with an impatient motion he asked a typical O’Neill question. " How many died?"

Major Ferretti answered him without missing a beat. " We estimate about ten, most of the deaths occurring on level twenty-two." He looked at his sleepy CO with a serious expression. " I say about ten, but I don’t really know for sure until we do roll call. The heat is intense, so much so that metal is melting. Some intelligent person has closed the blast doors on level twenty through three, but it isn’t even slowing the fire down. It seems to be in the air conditioning ducts as well as in the areas between floors."

O Neill nodded and struggled to a more upright position on the small cot. " So, in your opinion, the SGC is doomed?"

Ferretti nodded, well aware that he needed to say this for the record. " Yes sir. If we hadn’t evacuated when we did, we would have had a lot more fatalities that we did have."

Carter nodded. " I concur sir."

O’Neill was silent for a contemplative moment. " Do a roll call Ferretti. I want to know our exact number."

When the man exited he turned to Janet, De Souza and his team " Okay kids, so this is gonna be our new home for a while, wherever this is." He gave a shuddering yawn, feeling his breath catch in his chest. " Help me up and let’s go investigate."

" Not a chance." The flat voice came from a fiery brunette called Janet Fraiser, MD. " Smoke inhalation is no small thing. You need to give yourself time to heal…"

" Not gonna happen Doc. Sorry," he said, sitting on the side of the bed. He hated overruling her, after all, she was only looking out for his best interests, but he now had more important things to worry about than his health, like how in the hell he was going to run an offworld base with no access back to earth. Morale would be the first to go if he wasn’t careful, so he had better be careful.

Ignoring a furious Dr Fraiser, he rose shakily to his feet. " Major Carter, I want you to take De Souza and all the personnel you need and go and fetch SG8 and 11." His eyes flashed. " I have a feeling I’m gonna need some help here, and could really do with Colonel Sato’s expertise."

Samantha Carter nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. Colonel Tony Sato was the feisty commander of SG11, and besides being a brilliant engineer, was also a brilliant leader. Colonel O’Neill and he had hit it off the minute he had arrived at the SGC, and now O’Neill really needed him, something she was sure he was beginning to realize.

" You should never have been the one to keep the wormhole open sir," she murmured almost inaudibly, beckoning to the enthusiastic De Souza. It didn’t take much in the way of keen observation to see how heavily he was leaning on Teal’c.

He surprised her by replying. " Hindsight’s twenty-twenty Carter. If I had thought about it I would have stuck something like the butt end of a C90 over the horizon instead of my arm, but once it was done, it was done." He struck Teal’c playfully in the ribs. " If we ever do this again, which I seriously doubt, I’ll use my friendly Jaffa here to keep the door open, okay?"

Teal’c looked down at him with an almost fond expression on his face. " It will be my pleasure O’Neill," he said.

The rest of the day was taken up in setting up SGC 2’s camp. Jack O’Neill had never been to PG6 0NP before, it having been found and logged by SG2 under the unlamented Colonel Makepeace, but he found it a pleasant surprise. A ring of towering hills tightly encircled the Stargate, almost as if they had been placed there deliberately in order to protect anybody coming through.

His quick military mind also saw the possibilities the hills themselves offered. If necessary, they could hide up there and leisurely and pick off any Jaffa that might decide to visit. But that wasn’t all SG2 had found. They also discovered that deep caves, long since abandoned, studded the base of the hills. Caves quite capable of hiding complete armies if need be, or the entire contingent of the SGC.

It was in these caves that the personnel of the SGC had set up base. O’Neill was impressed in how much had been done in such a short time, and resolved to thank each section leader personally when he was feeling up to it, which he definitely wasn’t at the moment. Nodding surreptitiously to Teal’c, he allowed the man to lead him to a large flat rock prominently situated in a sandy area to one side of the stargate.

Once there he settled back with a painful gasp, a sound not lost on Daniel who just happened to be walking past with a spade in his hand.

" Jack, you look like shit."

Daniel’s blunt comment elicited a humorless bark of laughter from the man in question.

" Too much smoking does that to a man, space monkey," he said, watching closely for Daniel’s grimace at the hated nickname. " But I agree," he said seriously. " I’m in some serious need of sack time, which I will get as soon as Colonel Sato wakes up."

Instead of smiling, Daniel frowned ferociously. " Does he know how badly you’ve been injured?" he asked coldly.

This got Jack to frowning. " Oh come on, it was only smoke, and in answer to your question, no, I haven’t seen Tony since SG11 arrived, and even if I had, I wouldn’t order him to take over this base until he had sufficiently recovered anyway." To O’Neill’s relief Daniel’s next words were drowned out as the stargate suddenly activated, sending the at-ease Special Forces soldiers straight to full alert.

When Carter, De Souza, and SG8 appeared, everyone relaxed with a sigh of relief. The SGC was now up to full strength, minus the twelve people who perished in the fire. Now all they needed to do was let General Hammond know, somehow.

He hailed his second. " Carter, do you think that your father has…" He stopped with a gasp as a deep wracking cough forced its way past his lips, making the people of SG8 stop and stare.

" Colonel, are you alright?"

O’Neill carefully uncurled from his hunched up position and eyed at Lieutenant Colonel Jenna Kyle balefully. Damn, he had forgotten that a paramedic led SG8.

" Peachy. Promise."

She frowned suspiciously, squatting next to him. " And if I go and see Doctor Fraiser and ask, will she agree with you sir?"

Jack O’Neill knew when he was beat. " No." He sighed, trying not to show the pain that this action caused. " Kyle, please go and wake Colonel Sato, tell him that he is in charge of SGC 2 until I have fully recovered. Tell him…" This time the cough came without warning, making him shudder in agony.

" We’ll tell him sir," she said softly, before straightening. " Teal’c, Jackson, go and get a stretcher from wherever the infirmary is, notifying Doctor Fraiser what has happened." Her eyes shifted to Sam.

" Carter, go and get Colonel Sato, I’m going to stay right here."

With an anxious glance at the gray faced Colonel O’Neill. Sam gave an abbreviated salute and took off.

Jack sat propped up against Teal’c’s shoulder, wondering what the hell had just happened. One minute he was feeling slightly lousy, but not that bad, the next he’s feeling like he was half dead.

When he saw the stretcher being carried towards his position he resolutely shut his eyes. He was not going to witness people looking on as their CO was carried off ingloriously to the infirmary, yet again.

As a consequence, he was totally unaware of falling deeply unconscious.

It was dark when he next woke up, an eerie purple kind of darkness that immediately told one they were offworld. After an aborted attempt at a small stretch, he was quite content to lie quietly, allowing the ache in his arm where the IV needle dug into his flesh to subside somewhat.

After a while, when his arm felt better and he was no longer seeing tiny sparkles, he carefully sat up, silently removing the oxygen mask.

" So how are you feeling?"

He tried, but couldn’t quite hide the start she gave him. " Good grief Doc," he rasped, " are you sure that you were never in Special Forces?"

Her laugh was soft in the night. " Sorry, but I only use my skills on Colonels that don’t do what they’re told." He felt himself firmly pushed back onto the cot and the oxygen mask was once more repositioned on his face.

" This time you are going to stay put until I say you can get up, and I have the means to ensure you do."

He watched through slitted eyes as a needle flashed next to his IV line, then settled back with a defeated sigh as the drug hit him.

The sun was streaming in through the large entrance to the cave when he next awoke, making him believe that he had missed half the day, always a disconcerting feeling for a man who liked to see the sun rise each morning. He was feeling warm and sleepy and although he knew that he should be moving, he couldn’t seem to be able to drum up the enthusiasm for it quite yet.

" Colonel?" This time he saw her coming. " Don’t try to get up, okay?" He glared up at her, not even able to raise a hand to remove the irritating mask. Somehow, in the deep recesses of his mind, he wondered if she was deliberately keeping him sedated, before sleep once again took him.

Jack O’Neill rested at the entrance to yet another large cave and watched Tony Sato at work. The man sat staring at a thick piece of paper, his oriental face impassive.

He was a compact man with carefully cultivated sideburns that made him look like a shorthaired Japanese version of Elvis Presley, which was what he knew Tony had been striving for in the first place.

" How’s it going?"

Colonel Sato looked up from the neat map of SGC 2 that Dr Jackson had compiled to see the figure of the SGC’s 2IC silhouetted in the cave door. " Jack, how are you feeling?" he asked, leading the taller man to a convenient packing crate.

Jack O’Neill frowned, irritated beyond measure by the question. He had woken up rested and refreshed an hour ago and had wasted no time in finding his uniform and escaping the infirmary, only to have nearly every person he met ask every variation of that question there was.

" Peachy Tony, as I think I’ve told over half the base already." Ignoring Sato’s smile he pointed towards the map. " Is that us?" His friend nodded, his smile getting broader. " Yep, SGC 2. I can take you on a tour if you feel up to it?"

Jack was uncertain, but nodded anyway. " Sure."

Someone long ago had taken a long hard look at the ring of hills surrounding the gate and decided that it would be a perfect place to set up camp, Sato told him. They had found evidence that the natural caves weren’t natural at all, but had been artificially created centuries ago, probably by the Ancients.

" The Ancients?" Jack gave his friend an odd look. " And how did you figure out that gem of information?"

Sato merely smiled. " I didn’t. Your team did. Doctor Jackson was moping around mourning the loss of his precious documents when he stumbled on an entire wall of writing at the back of cave number six."

" Um. Cave number six?" O’Neill asked, looking around the camp vaguely.

Sato nodded. " Yep, cave number six. Look closely and you’ll see there are shingles hung outside every cave."

Squinting in the bright light Jack saw squares of what looked like slate outside each cave. Most of them were generic; for example, cave number one, two etc. But not all. Some caves had more fancy signs affixed to them, like the workshop, the infirmary, and…

" The Dragon’s lair?" Jack glanced at the small cave to one side of the infirmary and back to Sato.

" Your office sir. You will of course notice its proximity to the medical cave, just in case."

Jack O’Neill grunted, unimpressed, expecting his friend to guide him towards it. But Sato had other ideas. " First I need to show you something, if you don’t mind?"

Jack O’Neill had no objections. It wasn’t as if he was in a rush to go somewhere after all. He slowly trailed after Sato, beginning to feel all of his forty six years as the younger man happily led him to the Stargate situated in the center of the clearing, next to his flat rock.

" Observe."

" What the?" Stunned, he drew close to the rock, his mind grappling with what he was seeing.

Gone was the flat rock he had sat on, replaced with an exquisitely chiseled plaque, set at an angle to face the gate. The sculpture was a work of art, but it was the words chiseled on it that gave him pause for thought. They said:

Welcome to O’Neill’s Planet,

Designated:

PG6 0NP

Home of the Tau’ri base of

SGC 2

All Gou’ald are Prohibited

" O’Neill’s planet?" He gave the grinning Colonel a sideways look. " Are you trying to have me court martialed or something?"

" Can’t do." Sato grinned. " You were unconscious at the time." Abruptly his expression turned serious and he once more led O’Neill towards his office. " Morale is a problem. The plaque was one way of combating it."

Jack nodded soberly, ruthlessly squashing the pleasure he felt on having an entire planet named after him. He had been worried about morale from the onset. Yes, they were military, and as a consequence should be used to things happening in an instant, but this was a bit different then being sent to the Gulf for a month or two.

This time they were half way across the galaxy with no way of telling friends and family that they were still alive. If one thought about it too hard, it could be soul destroying, and obviously people were beginning to think. He ducked into his cave to see a rudimentary office set up consisting of two crates set up as a desk and one as his chair.

" Oh goodie," he murmured, sitting down gratefully. " All the comforts of home, minus the paperwork." He gestured towards another crate on which Sato perched daintily.

" So, tell me Sato San, what has happened in the past day or two."

Tony Sato shook his head at O’Neill’s atrocious pronunciation. He had never figured out why he delighted in acting so dumb when it was obvious that he wasn’t. He also had a sneaking suspicion that the gray haired man also spoke and read Japanese to some degree. He had invited Jack around for a drink one evening and had come in to the lounge to see Jack reading the spines of the extensive library kept there, all of which were printed in Japanese. To reinforce his suspicions Jack had reverently taken one out and flipped through it, not the actions of a man who didn’t know the language at all. Of course he had denied it, and nothing more had been said, but still…

" A lot," he said in Japanese, just to get a rise out of his friend.

" So tell me," Jack said patiently in the same language, smoothly switching into English whilst his friend removed his jaw from the floor. " It’s gonna be dark soon, and if we have a serious morale problem, I want to have it handled as soon as possible."

" Grief," Tony Sato said desperately finding his equilibrium. " That’s the main problem. Most of the dead are technical people, electricians and so on, and their friends are mourning them. That, coupled with the fact that there really isn’t that much to do here is making for an unhappy camp."

O’Neill frowned at the engineer. " What precisely has been done so far?"

Sato sat back with a thoughtful air. " Well, each section had already taken a cave and made it into a workshop or such like by the time I took over. Maintenance had already started on the latrines and the MP’s had all gone in search of material to use in the building of a brig."

He hesitated, " Your orders I assume?"

O’Neill smiled. " Not at all, I came through unconscious. But it’s not altogether surprising. The SGC does consist of the best of the best after all."

" Tell me about it," Sato said with feeling. " I gave up an engineering job that paid three times as much in the private sector for the privilege." He looked at his gray haired colleague appraisingly.

" And you? What sacrifices did you make?"

Tony Sato wasn’t prepared for the dark look he got in reply.

" Death. I gave up on death. At a little place called Abydos." Jack stirred, bringing his attention back to the shocked man. " I’ll tell you about it someday, but not today. Today we have to figure out how to get home."

Colonel Sato shifted on the uncomfortable crate. " Home ain’t answering. I have a team out there trying earths co-ordinates every hour."

Jack stiffened.

" Mistake, Tony. No reply leads to hopelessness. Rather have the SG team contact the Tok’ra and ask them for help." He smiled at Sato’s grimace. " I know, I feel the same way, but this time we need them. Maybe they have a Tel Tac that can reach earth and tell them we’re okay."

" We also need to keep the people this side busy. I suggest classes of some kind. Teal’c can continue teaching his Jaffa exercise classes, Carter her advanced scientific thingeys, if that’s possible with generator power…"

"Masterson can teach a class on quantity-surveying," Sato interrupted eagerly, "and Kyle can do a first aid course." He looked at O’Neill with new respect. " Damn, why didn’t I think of things like that?"

Jack O’Neill laughed at his forlorn friend. " That’s why they pay me the big bucks." Suddenly his stomach growled. " Tony, in all their organization, did they set up a canteen?"

Sato laughed and pulled him to his feet. " No problem. The canteen and living accommodations are thisaway sir." He gave a snigger of laughter as O’Neill proceeded ahead of him out of the cave.

"You’re gonna love the main meal."

Jack looked over his shoulder at him. "Oh?"

"Some sort of local animal that tastes just like chicken."

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It took over a week before the rescue personnel felt the mountain was now cool enough for them to enter, and even then they entered with full protective gear and oxygen tanks strapped to their backs.

They didn’t know it yet, but the fire had been the most destructive in USAF history, taking out over seven levels of Cheyenne Mountain, forever destroying tons of information that could have been used in the combating of the Gou’ald threat.

The rescuers didn’t know any of this yet, all they knew for certain was the awful fact that in over a week there had been no movement of any kind from the lower levels in the Mountain, despite the best efforts of the people flown in with ground penetrating radar. Not that anything that fancy would have been much good anyway. The fire had been ferociously hot; making the very rock in the mountain conduct it’s heat, turning the mountain into an oven and making any readings they obtained next to useless. Nevertheless they tried, and the rescuers allowed them to do so, knowing that anything helped until they knew for certain.

They all knew fire well. They dare not pump oxygen into the mountain because fire might still be alive, hiding in the scorched walls; waiting for just one whiff of oxygen to give it renewed life. No, a week later conditions underground were still so bad, still so hot, that the rescuers had to undertake what was any rescuers worst nightmare. A trip in full gear down into a place without hope.

The ten men started out early that morning. Receiving a blessing from one of the victims brother, a priest who had been notified of the disaster, they carefully made their way into NORAD, past the still stunned relief personnel who had volunteered to keep the place running, and down the stairs into the lower levels.

Their leader, Colonel Van Ryn, knew what they would find wouldn’t be pretty, but was necessary. They would remove no bodies this trip. That would be done later. This trip was to ascertain how bad the damage actually was, and how many had perished. A shattered General, the CO of the lower base, told him there should be 592 people in the lower levels, but said they also had a means to escape elsewhere if necessary. When pushed the man refused to elaborate, making Van Ryn fear for the General’s sanity.

They were down there all right, burned like briquettes, or suffocated like helpless children. The General was mad. There had been no way out but up, and that had not been an option.

On the twenty first floor he acted on a whim and pressed the elevator call button, snorting in surprise when the light came on and a distant rumbling could be heard. Somehow, against all odds, the power had remained on, making the colonel wonder if the base hadn’t been using a nuclear generator.

The promised cab failed to arrive, not that they would have taken it in the first place.

Slowly, carefully, the rescuers made their way down into the depths of the mountain, their steps echoing loudly on the rungs of the ladder. Soon they saw the first incidences of the fires destruction.

The floor, the twenty-third, was littered with broken glass from overhead lights, the gray carpet sodden with water from the fire sprinklers. There were no victims to be seen.

The floors began to get progressively worse the deeper they went, until they couldn’t recognize anything at all. Their trained eyes searched the floors for victims, occasionally finding one. When this happened the victim was carefully tagged and a Polaroid taken for use by later forensic teams.

Eventually the heat had become so bad that the metal staircase they were using had actually melted, forcing the men to abseil down the lift shaft.

Down they went, floor after floor, taking time out to carefully investigate each level. Each time it was the same story, massive destruction, walls and floors charred and smoke blackened, with the occasional body lying like some discarded toy. Eventually they reached level twenty-six.

They entered something like a Fairy Tale from hell. White ash covered everything as far as the eye could see, turning the hallway into something out of a macabre winter scene. The thing that gave Van Ryn pause for thought was the evidence of packing. People in fear of their lives didn’t usually take time out to pack, military trained or not. So why do so now, and where was everybody?

Cautiously they made their way down the hallway, conscious of deep groaning sounds seemingly coming from the walls themselves. Van Ryn carefully lay a hand on the concrete, feeling rumbling vibrations coming from somewhere in the mountain. His eyes flicked to his second as understanding came and he nodded silently. No words were spoken; none were necessary from this taciturn man.

His team had been with him for years, and had encountered something like this before. Somewhere in this mountain stresses were at work on the weakened metal embedded in the concrete that held the very floors together. The melted metal no longer held integrity, allowing the concrete to take the load, something it was not designed to do.

Suddenly Colonel Zack Van Ryn’s eyes widened in shock as a loud bang could be heard.

" Go!"

His team needn’t be told twice. Somewhere above their heads a wall or ceiling had collapsed, taking out all the weakened structures around it and causing a chain reaction.

Their lives were now in jeopardy as well.

The floors were in imminent danger of collapsing like a house of cards and taking them with it. The safest place to be would be in the very lift shaft they had just left. If they could get there in time.

They ran. They ran like the very sky was falling, as indeed it was. The groaning, crunching sounds told them that they had no time to waste, if the sight of the white ash that covered the floor eerily beginning to rise and swirl around their ankles wasn’t enough.

Gasping and sweating they finally reached their goal, and dived back into the shaft, quickly roping themselves back up, to await whatever this place of death had coming.

They didn’t have long to wait. A sound of like a jet engine roared past the huddled men, making their ears pop painfully, and then it went silent, as if nothing had ever happened.

Slowly, Van Ryn crawled to the still open doors to the level, knowing what to expect. He was right; level twenty-six had ceased to exist.

The rescuers had no need to go on, but they also knew that they had a job to do, and were on site.

There was still that slight chance of another collapse, although from the scale of the initial one, that seemed doubtful. So, after a brief word with Van Ryn, it was decided to continue downwards in the hope that one or more of the bottom levels had survived intact.

They needn’t have bothered. Floor after floor had collapsed, making each level impossible to enter, until they finally reached level Twenty-eight. Here walls seemed thicker, not that it had helped much.

The corridors also seemed more or less intact, not that he was willing to order anyone, including himself to go investigate. Repeated hails elicited no response, not from that level or the floor below.

Finally, on level thirty, they encountered the wedged elevator car, and finally conceded defeat. They could go no further. The people of the bottom base were all dead, Van Ryn concluded.

If anybody had somehow actually survived the fire, which he doubted, the resultant building collapse would surely have finished them off.

His shoulders slumped, he nodded to his team, and they slowly made their weary way back up the shaft.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

" Jack, you should see this, it’s unbelievable."

Jack O’Neill nodded a dismissal to Sergeant de Souza, leaned back in his chair, and turned to Daniel Jackson. A lot had happened in the two weeks they had been trapped on O’Neill’s planet.

His office had a more permanent look for a start, with a chair and table being carefully made out of local wood by the woodworking class.

They had also discovered that an indigenous tree had a substance like cotton hanging off of it that when flattened made thick sheets of paper.

" What Daniel, have we re-invented the wheel too?" he asked.

Daniel took a good look at O’Neill’s desk and smiled. Flattened sheets of paper were everywhere, all filled with Jack’s distinctive scrawl.

" Hell no Jack. If we had, you’d only fit four of them to some hollowed out tree trunk and escape," he said with a smile, making O’Neill bark with laughter.

" You got that right, Daniel." He picked up a sheet reflectively and looked at his best friend. " I had no idea just how difficult it was to run a base before now." He threw the sheet back onto the desk.

" I tell you, after this I will have a new appreciation for what General Hammond does."

They both fell silent at the mention of Hammonds name. As much as they were actually beginning to enjoy working at SGC 2, they all wanted desperately to go home.

" Any results so far?" Daniel asked. Each morning Jack O’Neill personally entered in the co-ordinates for earth in the hope that they would be able to get through, so far without success.

" Nada." He rose, taking a good look at Daniel as he did so. The past two weeks had been good for a person usually stuck in an office deep underground. He had started a sun bronzed beach bum look.

On Daniel it looked good, apart from the shaggy haired look that they were all beginning to show.

" So, what is it that you wanted me to see?"

" Huh?" For a moment Daniel’s eyes went blank as his brain scrabbled to find the right track, then he smiled enthusiastically. " Oh yes, the Cuneiform. You should see it. Lieutenant Josh and I have managed to uncover what seems to be an entire thriving civilization at one time here on O’Neill’s planet and…"

" I wish you wouldn’t call this place that," Jack said grumpily, brushing back the fur curtain covering the entrance to his cave.

" Why?" the voice behind him asked, " This is what we decided to call the place, so live with it."

Jack frowned in irritation. " And I bet you had nothing to do with it, right?" he asked sarcastically.

Daniel gave him an innocent stare, allowing the older man to set his own pace across the common areas between the circle of caves. Although O’Neill denied it, they all could see that he still hadn’t completely recovered from the damage the smoke had done to his lungs. He still tended to get breathless easily, and was still one of the few people who hadn’t climbed the hills to investigate what lay beyond their little haven. Daniel was dying to tell him about the miles of savanna and lakes, but decided to allow him to see for himself once he got his strength back.

" Actually, to tell you the real honest truth, no. I just woke up on day two and it was done, all neatly chiseled into the rock and everything. Although," he said reflectively, " I wouldn’t put anything past Major Ferretti and Colonel Sato."

" Nor would I," O’Neill grunted, allowing Jackson to proceed him into the Archaeology cave.

" Now, what is so interesting about this Cuniwhatzit that it pulls me away from the running of the base?"

" Oh, just the location of massive deposits of Naquadah, as well as what looks like Copper and Iron," a familiar voice said.

" Major Carter," he breathed, impulsively taking her hand. He had deliberately broken up the SG Teams, aware that their strong friendships would alienate the other people on the base.

To a point his decision had worked, allowing the more experienced offworld people to forge new friendships with others, and help them with the adjustments that living on a new planet with its different gravity and oxygen level took. But his decision also had its drawbacks, one of the major ones being loneliness. His team could interact nicely with the enlisted ranks, but Colonels could only interact safely with Majors and other Colonels, and for the most part Sato was busy building an aqueduct, with Teal’c and Ferretti providing the labor.

He could have sought out Daniel and Sam, but that would have been direct violation of his own orders, so he had amused himself for the most part, putting up with the occasional visits by Dr Fraiser with good grace.

Now, with the obvious exception of Teal’c, SG1 were together again, albeit only for a while.

" So," he said, sitting carefully on a crate that said EXPLOSIVES in prominent red letters. " Tell me about it."

The archaeologists deferred to Carter, with big grins on their faces.

" Well," she said, looking slightly nonplussed, " Lieutenant Josh and his team were slowly uncovering the Cuneiform and Daniel was translating what was written, when he came across what looked like a scientific symbol." She looked at the four dusty archaeologists with a proud look, then at Daniel with a smile. " Knowing that this discovery could be important, he called me. It’s taken over half the day for me to translate what it means, but if I’m right, then O’Neill’s planet is chock full of Naquadah." Her eyes were so bright he forgot to grumble over the name.

" So, there’s a chance that you could be wrong?" he asked, deliberately trying to burst her bubble.

" A less than five percent chance," she answered, her gaze unwavering, " assuming that the Goa’uld haven’t beaten us to it."

" Or the people that wrote this," Daniel said reflectively.

" The Ancients?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

Daniel shook his head negatively. " No Jack, this isn’t the writing of the Ancients, it’s way too recent for it to have been them, although I do see references to both the Ancients and the Furlongs," he said thoughtfully. " No, whoever wrote this came through the stargate from earth."

" So the Naquadah could still be out there?" Jack asked hopefully.

" Yessir," Carter said enthusiastically. " Permission to send an away team and find out sir?"

O’Neill frowned at her. " An away team? What an odd way of putting it. Nevertheless, you may have your…away team."

He carefully got to his feet.

" Take SG3, and those eggheads you like so much, SG7."

" Yessir." She made to fly out the door when he stopped her. " Tomorrow, Carter." He nodded towards the long shadow cast by the Stargate. " In case you hadn’t noticed, which is probably the case, it is almost supper time."

To reinforce his comments, the first of many logs were pulled out onto the common area. " And tonight we are having a massive open area barbeque and a dance to the pagan gods thereafter or something like that." His eyes found SG1’s second. " Not the sort of thing you would wanna miss," he said softly.

Her hand found his for an instant. " Yessir, you’re right. Thank you sir," she said quietly, her eyes shining.

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

" So you never reached beyond level thirty?" the General asked.

Van Ryn gave the man a careful look, noticing the tight way in which the man held himself. The past couple of weeks had been hard on the General. He had lost his entire base to something beyond his control and Van Ryn could see the pain of it was eating the man like acid.

" No sir," he said cautiously. " Our descent was blocked by a wedged elevator cab."

" So they could still be alive down there," the General snapped.

" No sir," Van Ryn said calmly. He had seen many instances of this exact same action; a man trapped between accepting the deaths of friends and loved ones, and denying it because there was no evidence to the contrary. " Most of the floors have collapsed." He winced when he saw the General sag. " And even if they were somehow huddled in the lower levels, there is no oxygen down there," he finished gently.

" Maybe the elevator is acting like a plug?" Hammond asked hopefully. " Maybe there is air down there after all."

" Maybe," Van Ryn said, allowing the man a smidgen of useless hope. " We’ll know as soon as we clear the debris."

" And how long will that take?" the General asked.

" A day or so, if Major Kent starts on the elevator first," Van Ryn said placatingly, gesturing to a tall ebony skinned man, who promptly joined them.

" Alex, the General wants the elevator cab removed first, just in case there are survivors below in the bottom levels, okay?"

The man nodded and promptly saluted. " Yessir", he yelled, and ran back towards a large crane and group of olive colored pickups.

" They might still have managed to escape," a gray haired priest murmured comfortingly to the hollow eyed General, the same one who had blessed Van Ryn and his men earlier. " You know Jack."

When the General nodded slowly, Van Ryn unobtrusively took his leave. He was a rescuer, still with a lot of work to do. The General was wrong though; and the priest was stupid to still give him hope, although it was understandable. He gazed across to the short balding man and the tall priest with a sad expression, wondering what words of comfort they were giving each other. If he had heard, he would have been surprised.

" The Antarctic gate?"

Hammond’s eyes flicked to Joe’s hazel ones, seeing the same steely determination there that his second displayed on occasion.

" Good heavens, just how much do you know?" he asked incredulously.

Joe looked at him with a wry look. " Everything. The minute I wore my wrist out signing those reams of official documents, I made it my duty to find out. Besides, I’m still the SGC’s locum Catholic priest, you know."

" You were," Hammond said gloomily.

" And will be again," Joe said confidently. "They’re alive somewhere, I know it."

" A God communiqué?" Hammond asked dryly.

Joe smiled. " Maybe. Now, about the other gates on earth, can anybody help?"

General Hammond shook his head despairingly. " No. The president has forbidden me from asking, or even notifying anybody else that we may have lost our Stargate. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, we had a small fire at NORAD. Also, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, it is business as usual in the SGC."

" Oh my God, they’re crazy." Joe burst out, oblivious to the blasphemy. He took a deep calming breath." So Jack and Sam and Daniel and…everyone else are trapped out there, with no way of getting home?"

Hammond looked awful, staring up at the blue sky with a hopeless expression on his face. " No, absolutely none, assuming they survived at all."

They watched silently as Major Kent’s team slowly began to move the large crane into the tunnel entrance of Cheyenne Mountain, both of them realizing this was the beginning of the end. Jack and the others would either be found, or not. Somehow Hammond felt that Joe was wrong, that as good as Jack O’Neill was, there was no way that he could get all 592 day shift personnel through the stargate unharmed. It wasn’t practical in the time period Van Ryn insisted he had. From what information Van Ryn had told them, the fire had been quick and deadly, screaming down from above like the devil himself, burning everything and everyone to a crisp before they were even aware what was happening.

Perhaps that was just the overactive mind of one very tired and heartsore General. The General in question gave a deep sigh, echoed by his constant companion, a man he had become to rely on in the last two weeks as much as he had done on his brother.

" Now we wait," he said softly. " Now we wait."

" I’d rather not, if you don’t mind," Joe said with a stubborn expression that made Hammond smile.

He looked so like Colonel O’Neill that it was quite eerie, making his heart break to think that Joe might be the only O’Neill left alive.

" May I make a suggestion?"

General Hammond resumed walking towards his official car. " By all means," he said.

" Tell Major Kent and Co to dig out the stargate first."

That caused Hammond to stop and stare at the priest. " Why? I can’t justify that. And even if I could, surely you would want to know, one way or another if…" his voice broke, sending him back to walking.

" God yes," Joe said through gritted teeth, showing the General a brief flash of white hot emotion he kept bottled up tight inside. " Dear God above yes," but if they open the lower levels and find no one there, and then we find out that everyone is on…Abbywhatzit or whatever, what then? They’re still going to be officially dead, and I don’t know about the others, but I’m pretty sure that Jack won’t like being dead, officially or otherwise. On the other hand, if we uncover the Stargate they can return, and if we’re careful, we can somehow spirit them down below…"

Joe looked at the other man’s set expression with a sinking heart. " I’m being stupid aren’t I? We have no DHD, and without that no one can return. Right?"

Hammond began to smile. " Wrong."

His meaty slap on the back almost sent Father Joe face first into the pavement. " Come."

Hammond practically pulled Joe to his feet and they flew the rest of the way to the car.

Major Kent was beginning to get really irritated with the base’s General. One minute he was insisting that they remove the elevator cab, the next he was insisting they remove a massive stone sculpture. His job was to remove the rubble, the how and why was immaterial to him, dead was dead, and those suckers were surely roasted to a turn. But a sculpture?

" Sir?" Hammond glared up at the confused man. " You understand your orders, Major?"

" Yessir. But a sculpture sir? Surely our time would be better spent…"

" Are you questioning these orders Major? Hammond said softly. " Because if you are I’m sure I can get them ratified by my immediate superior if you like."

Kent gulped audibly, not wanting to know just who was superior to a two star general.

God perhaps?

" No sir, no need sir. We’ll get the sculpture out for you sir."

General Hammond grunted, obviously pleased. " And from now on, you will have two new people working with you, Captain Tigris and Lieutenant Cooper." He gestured to two impassive SF types dressed in olive clothing with unusual flashes on their sleeves. " Their friends are missing, so treat them well, you got that?"

" Yessir." Saluting smartly, Kent ran to his men, the SF’s easily keeping up.

" What was that about?" Joe asked quietly. He had been sitting on a large boulder to one side of the entrance to the base, instinctively knowing that General Hammond was once more in control of himself. All it took was that tiny morsel of hope to get the mans spirit up, something Joe had been pleased to offer, thanks to divine help, he was convinced.

" Tigris and Cooper are there to ensure that the rescue squad don’t entirely uncover the stargate until we are ready for them to do so." Hammond said, finding his own perch in the warm sun.

" If they do, and are still in the room if and when Colonel O’Neill decides to dial home, well the suddenly opened wormhole will atomize everyone in the vicinity."

" We wouldn’t want that," Joe murmured in agreement. " So, how are you going to stop that from happening?"

" Hopefully the gate has the iris covering it, stopping a wormhole from forming, although if they were in a hurry, then the gate is open with only the rubble preventing it from activating. If that is the case, then all Captain Tigris need do is prevent the construction teams from removing a thin layer of rock on top of it. As long as we have a cover of less than ten micrometers between whatever covers it and the event horizon, a wormhole cannot form.

" And when we want one to do so, all we need do is remove that final amount of rock," Joe breathed, understanding in his face.

" And hope like hell that Jack doesn’t decide at that exact moment to activate the gate from wherever he is," Hammond said with a smile.

" What happens if the gate is upright, or maybe at an angle?" Joe asked thoughtfully.

Hammond gave him a dark look. " Pray that it isn’t. If that is the case, if it’s still upright instead of lying vertical, then those construction people are vulnerable the minute they uncover it. To this day I still shudder on how long it took the powers that be at the time to get the gate here in the first place. They had a fully working uncovered Stargate, and it took them over two months to get it set up in the SGC. Grief, anybody could have come through in that period. Okay, so they couldn’t have gone home again, we had no DHD, but that wasn’t the point. Now I’m doing the exact same thing, uncovering a Stargate and hoping that the first people we see through it will be our friends, and not Gou’ald."

He sighed.

" It’s a frightening thought Joe. I’m risking the entire planet on the vague assumption that a man called Jack O’Neill, Colonel USAF, realized what was happening in time, and saved his men."

" Sorry George," Joe said glumly, " but another nasty thought has just crossed my mind. Just how in the hell are you going to remove Kent, Van Ryn, and all the other people not in the know, from the stargate’s vicinity? If I’m right, and Jack is still alive, which I firmly believe he is, them we are going to need at least a full twenty-four hours, just in case he tries to dial home once a day and had just done so before the gate was cleared."

" That part is easy," Hammond said with a most unsettling shark-like grin. " The place is chock-a-block full of top secret documents, or will be once Tigris has seeded them. As soon as the gate is found and almost cleared, Tigris will yell in horror and contact me. I will have no choice but to clear everybody out whilst we find and secure all of them." He sighed theatrically, making Father Joe grin.

" It could take days."

Joe nodded soberly. " Another question, this one pretty serious. According to Daniel the old gate shook all the time until dampeners were put in. Now, if the gate is on its side, then it is liable to shake again. What happens if the base is still unstable?"

General Hammond glared at Father Joe, only to see his eyes were without guile, making him decide on the only answer he could give, the brutally honest one.

" Joe, if the base shakes, and the floors shift, then we die. It is a risk every soldier is prepared to take." He hesitated, "You on the other hand needn’t be involved."

Joe’s eyes snapped to his, the guilelessness replaced with steely determination. " Don’t insult me George. Never, ever insult me like that again, General George Hammond, you hear me?"

He leapt off his rock and glared at the short Texan.

" You know, when we were younger Jack once said something to me that stuck. He said ‘ It is far better to burn bright and strong, then to fade away into sniveling darkness.’ Of course, he was into some really serious shit at the time, and I didn’t understand it, what with trying to save his soul and all, but now, years later I do."

General George Hammond just grunted.

"I find that there are days when I just don’t understand the O’Neill brothers at all, which suffuses me with such an incredible feeling of relief, I tell ya…"

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

" Aren’t you going to partake in breakfast Colonel?" Jack O’Neill looked up from his desk to see the SGC’s chief medical officer leaning against the entrance to his cave. " They have these sweet crunchy things that taste just like Wheeteos."

Jack laughed and stretched, coughing slightly and making Fraiser frown. He had been coughing a lot recently, a harsh dry cough that was frankly starting to worry her.

" Guess what Doctor, they are. For some strange and fathomless reason whoever stocked up this base in case of a worse case scenario, figured out that we would be comforted by a good breakfast.

So he requisitioned Wheeteos. Boxes and boxes and boxes of Wheeteos. Which would be great,

Fraiser, if we had real milk instead of that powdered variety, and even better if one bird Colonel with slightly singed wings actually liked the stuff, which he does not."

" Oh shame," she laughed. " Nevertheless, it is a brilliant sunny day, and I prescribe a day spent doing nothing more stressful than lying in the sun."

" Sorry, no can do," O’Neill said, gesturing to his desk. " As you can see, my day is full, which definitely precludes me acting like a beach bunny." He looked at his desk miserably and coughed again.

Dr Janet Fraiser was worried. He hadn’t said anything, but she had observed him leaning against the carved rock next to the Stargate after the morning attempt to dial home. It was very early morning, way before the base stirred for the day, and he had obviously thought that he was alone. For one moment he had let his guard slip, and had allowed the real O’Neill out. A tired and unwell O’Neill had emerged, his expression making her want to cry. Then he ruthlessly pushed that O’Neill back into its box, straightened his shoulders, and replaced the mask.

However, by then it was too late, Janet had seen, and just what she saw gave her pause for thought.

Something definitely wasn’t right with their C.O.

He noticed her the minute she stirred, straightened and gave her a hard look, one that said don’t bother me now if you value your career.

So she hadn’t, allowing him to casually walk to his office as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But she knew, and she knew that he knew that she knew.

" That wasn’t a request, Colonel," she said softly. " I want you outside, sitting in the sunshine and doing nothing within the hour. Go and climb the hill and wait for Sam and Daniel to return or something."

For a moment he was going to refuse, she could see it in his eyes, before common sense kicked in.

She was after all, the Chief Medical Officer, a position she took very seriously indeed.

" Okay maybe for a while," he said. " But I’m not climbing any hill."

" Why?" she shot back. " Because you can’t? Because you’re afraid that if you even attempt it, you won’t even make it half way up before you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack?"

She was pleased to see his head snap up and look at her. " Who told you? De Souza? If he has I swear I’ll wring his little…"

" Nobody told me, Colonel," she said, smiling at the aghast man. " Nobody needed to. I wouldn’t be a good doctor if I couldn’t recognize a classic case of bronchitis when I see it."

His expression was classic. " Bron-what?"

" Bronchitis." He flinched as she slowly made her way around his desk, stethoscope in hand.

" Tell me," she asked, undoing the top buttons of his shirt. "Does it hurt when you take a deep breath? His glare was all the reply she needed. " Okay then, take a deep breath, and exhale slowly, just for me please…"

Jack O’Neill was feeling furious, with himself mainly. He had thought that he was being so careful not to let her know just how sick he was feeling, but somehow he had slipped up, and now he was paying the price. He held a thermometer in gritted teeth and glared at her. Not that it did any good. He had come to the conclusion years ago that she was totally fireproof.

" Maam, you sent for me?" She looked up from her patient to see the head of his aide in the door, looking at her enquiringly.

" Yes Sergeant," she said sweetly. " Colonel O’Neill will spend the rest of the afternoon on the outside of his cave, in the sunshine. I want you to find a suitable chair or lounger for him, surely there must be something like that here?"

De Souza nodded, looking carefully at the scowling man, knowing that the Major Doctor was a brave woman to overrule the Colonel. Such a brave woman deserved his total co-operation.

" Yessir-maam. One lounger coming right up."

Whilst Colonel O’Neill was looking with apprehension at the mini pyramid of tablets Dr Fraiser was measuring out for him to take, Sergeant De Souza and two airman were scrounging successfully for a lounger and sun umbrella. They had everything all set up outside his cave by the time he eventually emerged.

" I am not going to sit in that!"

O’Neill’s outraged bellow was so loud that the sentries on top of hills two and five heard him as clear as a bell.

" I am not on holiday here," he said furiously, resolutely turning his back on the brilliant yellow lounger and it’s accompanying umbrella. " No one is on holiday here." He stalked up to the stubborn doctor. " In case you hadn’t noticed, we have most of SG1 and all of SG3 and 7 looking for Naquadah deposits. And I won’t even mention SG2 and their aqueduct project."

He stood toe to toe with Fraiser, liking how he towered over her. " The end result, Doctor, is that I have a hell of a lot of people off base. And that’s just for starters. I am also waiting for the food and, if I’m right, and I know I am, the medical estimates and requisition forms on projected usage over the next two months to be forwarded to me. All in all, a full days work, something I am not going to accomplish lounging in - that!"

His ferocious gaze sent those hardy souls that came out to see what all the commotion was, scurrying for cover.

" You agreed to a stint outside earlier," she said calmly. " I clearly recall that."

He nodded. " I did. For an hour. Not the whole day."

" So why not spend the whole day working out here?" she said logically. " I see no reason why you can’t, and besides," she said, looking into red rimmed brown eyes, " besides, everyone needs a day off once in a while.

Hell, even General Hammond has an alternate weekend off, as you very well know. But you mister," she thumped him in the chest, making the startled man take a step backwards, " You haven’t had a break, even for an hour, in almost a month."

" So, you will lay in that lounger, and look after that chest, and if you really want to, Sergeant De Souza can feed you those horrible flattened pieces of papyrus so you can continue working. Okay?"

For a moment they stared at each other, two stubborn people going head to head, making the neglected Sergeant De Souza think they were going to come to blows for a moment, before Colonel O’Neill eventually inclined his head in defeat.

" Okay. But for the record, I really don’t like yellow. Just remember that."

It was a startled Major Samantha Carter later that day who, wearily climbing the last hill between the savanna and their new home, espied the brilliant yellow dot in the clearing next to where she thought the Colonel’s cave was. Frowning in puzzlement, she reached for the glasses, only to remember that they were tightly wedged in her pack along with the precious ore samples.

So, shrugging her incomprehension at Daniel and the others, who were also looking on in bafflement, they exhaustedly made their way down into the valley, their mission a total success.

" What the heck?" Daniel murmured, as they got closer. " I swear that looks like a deckchair, well a kind of deckchair anyway. How in the hell did they…?"

Suddenly a figure popped up from nowhere, almost making Major Coburn blow his head off.

" Shhh please sirs, if you don’t mind," Sergeant De Souza whispered, oblivious as to how close to a gory death he had gotten. " Colonel O’Neill fell asleep about an hour ago, and he is definitely not well."

That immediately got Sam and Daniel to worrying. " What’s wrong?" they asked softly, making a wide berth between themselves and the yellow chair.

" Dunno," De Souza said miserably. " All I know is that when he eventually fell asleep Doctor Fraiser covered him with a blanket and ordered everyone to silence, and I know that Colonel Sato agrees, even if he isn’t here yet.

" Hmm." Dismissing the man, Carter carefully stowed away her stuff, drank some water and

went in search of Janet Fraiser, Daniel right on her heels.

" Bronchitis? How in the world did he get that?" an astonished Daniel asked half an hour later.

"Is it because he’s older or something?"

Janet smiled at her friends, the people she considered herself closest to. " No, it’s not that, it’s just that he’s been pushing himself too hard." She stared at them sadly. " I think it all started when he took those lungfuls of smoke. That severely weakened his system, and that, coupled with him single handedly shouldering all the angst of the base for the past month has just proven to be a bit too much. Now he’s suffering." She turned her head to see the sleeping Colonel, his face serene in the gathering dusk. " Sweet, isn’t he? So different than he is when he’s awake. I’m gonna have to wake up and tell him he’s restricted to the infirmary for the next couple of days, and if it’s anything like what happened earlier today, It won’t be a pleasure."

Sam winced. " Bad?"

Janet made light of it. " Hey, I’m still here, aren’t I?" But her eyes told a different story.

" The infirmary? No way. No, absolutely no way."

He stared up at Dr Fraiser, still annoyed that she had let him sleep when he still had so much work to do. "I will sleep here tonight, seeing as your nurses led me here before I was fully awake, and have zipped me into this sleepingbag so securely that it feels like a straightjacket, but tomorrow it’s business as usual, okay?"

Fraiser nodded in defeat. " Okay, but you’re going to sleep in, if nothing else, the tablets we’re giving you will ensure that much."

He was already shaking his head before she was finished speaking. " Nope, sorry, can’t. I have to dial earth at 05H00."

Her lips compressed into a thin line. " Sam and Daniel can do that. They found the Naquadah so there is no reason why they can’t get up at dawn and do it for you."

He frowned, ready to argue again when what she said sunk home. " The deposits?" His eyes found his team. " You found them?" The both nodded, their smiles big in the twilight. " Yep," Daniel said, " making this enforced stay a very successful one. This planet is full of Naquadah, something we can trade with other races for goodies just in case we can’t get home for a while."

" Or we can use it to bribe our favorite people, the Tok’ra, who seem not to have any time for us recently," Jack said sourly.

" That bad?" Sam said sympathetically. " I thought that dad…"

" Dad can’t be found," Jack moaned, suddenly looking and feeling sleepy.

" Okay," he said abruptly bringing the conversation back on track. " You can attempt to fire the stargate tomorrow morning. Just remember a couple of things, you need a full compliment of SF’s armed to the teeth just in case, the GDO’s, and a two way radio."

Sam Carter smiled and saluted, subtly letting him know that she was no longer a recruit that needed to be told everything.

" We’ll be there sir. 05H00 tomorrow morning SG1 will open the wormhole to earth and lead us home."

He gave a soft snort, snuggling into his bag. " You wish, Carter." His eyes opened slowly as a thought occurred. " Hey Carter, make sure Daniel’s awake. This’ll be the first sunrise he’s gonna see in about ten years."

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" Sir?"

General Hammond looked up from the report he was perusing in his temporary office on the second floor of NORAD to see the one person he had been waiting for.

" Yes Tigris?"

"We were uncovering the sculpture sir, and somehow there seems to be all sorts of classified documents relating to the base in the rubble underneath."

Hammond shut his eyes briefly, allowing the forgotten report to flutter onto the desk. At last.

" I trust you cleared out the personnel immediately?"

The man smiled, his almond eyes merry. " But of course sir. I know official documents when I see them, sir."

Hammond grunted, espying Major Kent in the doorway.

" Major?"

The man stiffened. " Yes sir?"

" Until I order otherwise, there will be no personnel allowed into my base unless they have ultra top clearance. Understood?"

The man did, but was clearly unhappy about things. " May we concentrate our efforts on the elevator then? We will have to locate and remove the bodies sooner or later, before we have a health hazard sir."

General Hammond saw red for a moment, before sanity once more prevailed. The man was only doing his job. As far as he knew, the lower levels of the base still contained the deceased personnel of the SGC. He was only trying to help.

" No, Kent," he said with a sigh. " Give us twenty four hours, then the base is yours, okay?"

"Yessir," he said, his face expressionless. " I’m sure the lower levels are cold enough to stop any decomposition anyway."

Kent got the reaction he sought, if slightly muted however. " Out, Kent," the General said tiredly,

"...and stay away for a full twenty four hours, starting now."

" Oh my GOD."

This was the first time General Hammond had been in the gateroom, or even into the base since the destructive fire, and his reaction was predictable.

Everywhere he looked was a horrible mix of charred unidentifiable items, mixed with large blocks of concrete. To make matters even worse was a steady river of water soaking down from the sodden damage on the upper levels, turning everything underfoot into an evil smelling cesspool.

He gazed in disgust at a river of black mud as it slowly made its way across what used to be the pristine gateroom floor only to disappear into a crack in the concrete. For a vague moment he wondered where the water was going, then jumped as a black clad arm reached for his shoulder.

" George?" Are you okay?"

" No." He looked at the concerned features of Father Joe. " And neither are you, so don’t deny it."

For a split second something terrible crept into the priests expression, then he blinked, and it was gone.

" Come George, let’s get this concrete and rubbish off of the stargate and see what we will see, okay?"

General George Hammond nodded, gazing at the stargate with a critical air as his senses come back on line. They had been lucky. The partially collapsed ceiling had taken out the Stargates base first, or maybe the heat from the fire had been so intense that the metal ramp melted, whatever had happened had been kind to them, allowing the stargate to fall backwards.

The indestructible Naquadah ring had then proceeded to crush everything behind it, eventually stopping when it lay flat. Perfectly flat.

" Remind me to thank your Boss someday," he murmured to Joe, making the priest smile.

It was easy to remove the final layer of rubble now that Kent and his men had done most of the work. When the last charred piece of whatever had been unceremoniously flung to one side.

General Hammond gazed around the room, noticing how the engineers had managed to shore up what remained of the ceiling using wedges of metal scaffolding, and frowned.

" If the gate shakes too much that scaffolding is going to come down like a house of cards, probably bringing what’s left of the ceiling down with it."

Joe looked at him, his eyebrow raised. " And this means?"

Hammond laughed. " Nothing if the gate is closed, just more work for Kent and Co."

"But," he abruptly sobered, " a hell of a lot if the gate is open. If we have an active wormhole, with the gate lying flat as it is, then the concrete is going to go straight on through at a hell of a speed to impact at the wormholes final destination."

" I thought a wormhole only goes one way?" Joe asked, glaring at General Hammond as if the man had been lying to him. " If that’s so, them why are you worried?"

Hammond looked worried. " It does, it is fatal for humans to try and walk through an incoming wormhole, their atoms wouldn’t rematerialize correctly the other side. But certain things can pass through okay. Radio waves for one, and we’re still investigating what else. But my main worry is this, if enough of that roof comes down, some of it is going to get through to their side for sure, and it doesn’t matter how it rematerializes. Rock is still rock, and rock at velocity is dangerous."

" Oh Sh…Holy Mary Mother of God…" Joe said slowly, horror etched on his face as he watched as Captain Tigris and Lieutenant Cooper and a dozen other people from the surviving night shift began to attack the last couple of rocks and concrete blocks.

" Indeed," General Hammond agreed, smiling slightly, " but we may be getting ahead of ourselves here. They may be already dead. We’ll give it twenty four hours, just as I told Major Kent, then we’ll pack it in."

Father Joe nodded and perched on the remains of a large concrete block. " I agree," he said glumly.

" I know my brother. If Jack doesn’t try to come home in that time period, then he’s not coming back."

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The day dawned bright and crisp, the slightly too blue sky being lightened by the first of three suns when Sam Carter and a slightly stunned looking Daniel Jackson eventually made their way to the stargate.

They were five minutes late, due to Daniel just having to make an unscheduled stop for coffee, but they had eventually made it, to join up with Chief Master Sergeant Brooks and his band of slightly chilled special forces soldiers.

" Major, Doctor." He gave them both a crisp salute. " Ready when you are sirs."

" Hokay then," Daniel said, carefully balancing his still steaming cup of coffee down on the carved rock, " Let’s go kids, as the Colonel would want to say."

They all smiled at that, and then stood ready as Daniel carefully entered in the glyphs for earth.

" Here goes nothing," he muttered, slamming his hand down on the red center stone.

The loud kawoosh caught him by surprise; hell it caught them all by surprise. One minute he was looking through the stargate towards the distant latrines, the next the ring was filled with a blue event horizon, and he was flat on his back, watching stunned as the whole base erupted from their caves, everyone cheering wildly.

" Halt."

The voice was loud, familiar, and booked no argument whatsoever.

"Sergeant Brooks, secure the stargate. Carter, Jackson, give me the radio. The rest of you, return to your assigned duties." Colonel Jack O’Neill clapped his hands when no one moved.

" Now people."

They all disappeared like startled rabbits.

" Major Carter report."

Years of obedience straightened her spine as she trotted up to him and handed over the radio to her roughly dressed CO, trying not to notice as he zipped up his fly.

" Nothing to report sir, not really sir. We entered in the co-ordinates to earth and this is the result."

" Hmm." Jack O’Neill squinted at the stargate, pleased to see the alert SF’s doing their job. " So, let’s see what’s out there, shall we?" He quickly strode towards the open gate, his team trailing along behind him, only to see one of the most horrific sights he had ever witnessed in his life.

With a loud crack that sounded just like a rifle shot, what looked like a large gray piece of concrete came scything out of the wormhole, instantly decapitating some of the soldiers, and sending the rest spinning to the ground, screaming horribly. As he watched, transfixed, more pieces came flying out.

They came flying out of an, oh God, an outgoing wormhole for crying out aloud.

Jack stared, transfixed, as even more gray shards flew out, small and lethal and flying every which way. Suddenly Daniel screamed in pain, making him unfreeze and dive for the ground, but there was no cover, none at all.

He started taking hits as shards continued to fly out of the gate like bullets. He grunted in pain as they snarled around him and into him, tearing ligaments and breaking bones, continuing on their trajectories until they hit the cave walls like a deadly hail. He heard Carter cry out, as did someone else, then, as abruptly as it had started, it stopped.

" Hammond to O’Neill, Hammond to O’Neill, please come in, over."

Jack O’Neill stared at the radio lying next to his nose as if he had never seen it before in his life. As he watched, the message was repeated. He couldn’t move a muscle, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was badly hurt, as was Sam, Daniel, and the others.

"SGC to O’Neill, come in please." Suddenly a hand reached down and snatched it up.

" SGC 1, this is SGC 2. Sato here. General, we are in need of immediate assistance. We have taken multiple hits from what looks like gray projectiles. We have dead and seriously injured people here, including Colonel O’Neill. Over."

The voice came through strong and clear. " Negative, no can do. We need you to return through the stargate right now." Hammonds voice became intense. " Listen Colonel, and listen good. I want you to keep the gate open from your side and start transferring people through immediately. We have one shot at this, so do it now."

A still conscious Jack O’Neill watched Sato nod to an airman, who carefully placed his C90 over the event horizon, just like Jack should have done weeks ago, preventing the wormhole from closing.

" SGC 2 to 1, the wormhole is now open."

" Move them through Sato, right now, starting with able bodied people." The General hesitated.

" You’ll need them to pull people out our side because the gate’s lying flat."

Flat? Jack didn’t even want to think about it.

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Clapping his hands, a very dusty General turned to his men. " Major Tigris, take Siler, Pierson and Gomez, and make darn sure that elevator is secure and in position."

When Tigris nodded, Hammond walked up to a stocky curly haired man and patted him on the shoulder.

" You had better be right son."

The man nodded confidently. " I am sir, without a doubt."

The General smiled, looking strained. " Then go Siler, and do your job."

" Aye sir." He saluted, and followed the Major out of the partially collapsed gateroom.

" Who’s he?" Joe asked, only to have a hand waved in his direction, telling him to shut up.

Hammond turned to Cooper next. " Lieutenant, your job is to drag that collapsed scaffolding to the elevator shaft. Wedge it somehow like a ladder between this level and the roof. From what I understand; they can no longer abseil down." He looked across at the remaining soldiers. " You, you and …you, go and help him."

Cooper gave a crisp salute, and immediately started to issue orders. Soon the chosen soldiers were carefully dragging the collapsed spar of scaffolding out of the room.

" Well, any port in a storm, hey George?" Joe said after they were gone, his meaning clear.

General Hammond shrugged. " You got that right." He turned to face the equally as dusty priest.

" You asked who Sergeant Siler is? Well, he’s our Technical Engineer."

Joe watched as Hammond wearily walked to stand next to the glittering wormhole, idly pushing a tiny bit of remaining concrete into the pool with the toe of his shoe and watching as it shattered into a tiny puff of dust, smiling slightly as one of the remaining soldiers jumped.

" Siler took a look at the elevator earlier. Using the ropes and pulleys that Colonel Van Ryn and his merry band of rescuers left behind he was able to reach the elevator roof and carefully enter through the roof hatch. He says that the elevator is on level thirty-one. He wedged the doors open and he says that the level is mostly intact."

Joe raised his eyebrow. " So, you propose to get everyone back and put them on the thirty first floor?"

Hammond nodded. " In a nutshell, Father."

Joe nodded slowly." Okay, let me get this right. You intend getting everyone back, shoving them all, wounded included, through a small hatch and making them stay in a wet and cold area until the rescuers conveniently find them, which will be in…" he looked at his watch, " Eighteen hours?"

General Hammond nodded. " Yes. We have discussed this, which was basically your idea to begin with, so don’t go all Daniel on me now."

Before Joe could ask what the heck the General meant, there was a ripping sound and two beefy MP’s were pulled from the wormhole. They quickly saluted Hammond and knelt next to their rescuers, ready for the next people.

After a while Joe spoke again. " You realize that we hurt Jack when we opened the gate?" he mused. " If we hadn’t done so…"

" Jack would be officially missing, presumed dead, and the Stargate project would be finished."

" He could be dead already," Joe said gloomily

Hammond grabbed Joe’s shoulder and led him out of the suddenly crowded gateroom.

" Buck up Father Joe," he snarled, suddenly sounding so ferocious that Joe took a step back in fright.

" If he is, he is. This is the US Air Force, and here nothing is guaranteed. Another thing, here we do things my way, and I don’t tolerate second thoughts. Got that?"

When Joe nodded, Hammond clapped him on the back. " Good man. Now, get back in there and do your job. I’ll be at the elevator shaft if you need me."

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

" My team?" Jack said slowly and clearly, staring up at Janet Fraiser as she and her nurses rapidly strapped him into a wire stretcher, not really expecting an answer.

In that he was wrong. Teal’c, a friendly face that he hadn’t seen in weeks, answered him. " They are well, O’Neill." He squatted next to his bloodied brother warrior. " They are hurt, as are others, but you are by far the worst injured. You and a young sergeant," he said thoughtfully.

Jack stared up at him. " How bad are they?" He struggled to unstrap himself, only to subside with a sharp hiss. "Are they okay?"

Teal’c nodded. " So the medical people tell me. Major Carter is unconscious with a blow to the head, and Doctor Jackson has a projectile in his shoulder."

He hesitated as two SF’s lifted O’Neill’s stretcher. " Sergeant Brooks and his men were not so lucky however. He and two of his men were killed quickly, with three others succumbing shortly thereafter."

Jack O’Neill looked up at the Jaffa, horrorstruck. " Dear God, that means there was only one survivor?"

Teal’c nodded. " Besides you, yes. The Sergeant O’Rourke."

" Godammit," Jack snarled, staring up at the swaying sky. " Twelve dead I can accept, barely. But eighteen?"

He stared up at the sky through suddenly misty eyes as they came to a stop next to the open gate.

" Eighteen?"

" Colonel O’Neill, I am going to sedate you for a while, okay?"

He looked wordlessly at Fraiser, suddenly feeling more tired than he had ever felt in his life. Nevertheless… " I’d prefer it if you didn’t," he whispered. " I’m still in charge until…"

He grimaced as he felt a needle slide home.

" Colonel Sato is doing a great job," she whispered in reply.

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Slowly they came through the gate, the volunteers lying in wait to catch and pull them out after their sub-zero trip. They could not fumble and drop anyone. They all knew the consequences of that. Like General Hammonds pebble, if that happened, the person would simply cease to exist. Or maybe not, maybe like the mass of concrete that had disappeared, maybe they too would emerge on the other side as misshapen pieces of something else, something no longer human.

Mindful of this, the volunteers toiled on, carefully pulling people through until only the dead and injured were left. Then it was their turn.

Father Joe watched numbly as each metal stretcher was pulled out and reverently placed to one side of the gate. People had began to filter out of the gateroom as orders came through as to where to go, making the place a lot less crowded, making Joe, a secret claustrophobic, sigh in relief. Small confessionals were bad enough, but that crush of humanity had been a bit terrifying.

Then he saw Jack.

His brother was strapped down tightly to his stretcher, his face and body a mass of blood. He was also still and silent, making Joe fear the worst. He didn’t remember moving, but he must have, because he suddenly found himself at Jack’s side, feeling for a pulse.

" He is alive, Father Joe, Kin O’Neill," a deep voice said, making him start. " Doctor Fraiser has merely made him sleep, as she can tell you." Teal’c gestured to a petite woman he had met before who was bent over another stretcher where a blonde figure was resting.

" Janet, Sam." He was by their side in an instant. " Are they okay?"

Doctor Fraiser didn’t seem at all surprised to see him there. She smiled and nodded, making him sag in relief. At that instant a short oriental man appeared with a weapon in his hand. The wormhole immediately closed with a snap.

" Okay, where is General Hammond?" The man asked politely, making Joe smile. " In the hallway, sir," he said, smiling broadly as the man stared at him like he was seeing a ghost, before wheeling on his heel and heading out. Bad as the situation was, it was always amusing to meet people who didn’t know he and Jack were identical.

" Oh no, I can’t allow that."

General Hammond tried to glare at his petite CMO, realizing why she had such strong objections. He also wasn’t too thrilled at the idea, not after seeing O’Neill and Sergeant O’Rourke, but he had no choice.

" You have to allow it," he said gently. " For the good of this base, for the good of earth, you have to allow it. We have to leave you below on level thirty-one, all of you, for the rescuers to find. We have to have a perfectly plausible explanation, and this is it.

" But, there are no medical facilities down there," she said wavering. " Hell I don’t even know what is down at that level. My patients could die. Colonel O’Neill is particularly vulnerable, what with a chest infection as well as his other injuries." She looked up at him appealingly. " Sir, please, there must be another way."

He shook his head and her shoulders slumped. " We have thought about it for over a month, and there are none. No, you must join all the others down there. So must Colonel O’Neill and Sergeant O’Rourke.

" Can’t you say, hear our tapping?" Sato asked. He hastily elaborated when General Hammond glared at him. " We all go to level thirty-one and then you hear our tapping and call for help?"

" Through three feet thick walls?" General Hammond asked incredulously. " Be serious man."

When Sato hung his head, Doctor Fraiser’s face hardened.

" You realize that you are probably condemning those men to death?" she asked. " One of them being your second in command?"

He faced her square on, his eyes unwavering.

" Doctor, I am intensely aware of that. Furthermore, I expect you to keep them both alive until tomorrow, and that’s an order."

He turned away from her, and then swung back. " Oh, and by the way? Lose the stretchers, we don’t have any stored on level thirty-one, trust me."

Slowly the people made their way down into the lower level, carefully navigating the scaffolding, squeezing through the trap door and out into the devastation the fire had left behind. There was air now, the shaft had acted just as effectively in drawing air down to them as it had in taking air away weeks ago, but it was dark and damp. And being so deep underground, it was cold.

It was quite traumatic after the blue sky and sunshine of O’Neill’s planet, and trying to console themselves with the thought that they were once more home on earth didn’t seem to help much. Soon they were huddled together for warmth, muttering quietly.

The survivors of the SGC fire, all 570 of them, watched silently as the injured and dead were finally carried in. They had been through so much, but had survived, thanks to one man. A man few people saw, and a few even feared, but everyone could rely on 100%. Sad eyes scanned the stretchers, watching for the telltale sign of their leader, the gray hair.

They were packed into what remained of the thirty first floor like sardines, but nevertheless still managed to make space as the SF’s unloaded their precious cargoes onto the cold floor. Then the empty stretchers were then passed over their heads and back up to General Hammond, who carefully stacked them to one side of the gateroom, as if they had been there all the time.

Finally the gateroom was silent once more, save for General Hammond, his fourteen volunteers, and one praying priest.

The next day dawned bright and clear, much to the relief of Major Kent and his team of engineers. He knew that it didn’t much matter what the weather was once you were deep underground, but a bit of Colorado sunshine did wonders for the soul after a grisly day, and he knew that grisly day lay ahead.

The General’s twenty four hours were up, his precious papers were hopefully stowed away and they had been given permission from Colonel Van Ryn to find the corpses, and to hell with the General’s sculpture.

Kent tossed his cigarette into the gutter and looked around for those two SF types that he had to nursemaid. They were nowhere to be seen. The day was getting better and better.

With a grinding clank the crane was moved into position. They were going to run a steel cable down the NORAD elevator shaft and simply transfer it to the other shaft on the twenty-first floor. Once that was done they would continue to feed cable down that shaft until they snagged the jammed elevator.

Once it was secured, the crane’s team would gently haul up the cable. They knew that the cable would do a hell of a lot of damage to the walls on the way up, but seeing as everything was toast anyway, who cared? Getting those corpses out was now an urgent priority, and to hell with the Dante’s infernal decor.

" Haul away," Kent yelled into his radio a while later, and watched intently as the cable tightened. He was on the twenty-first floor, close enough for him to supervise and stay clear the rescue effort. His men knew their shit, and he had no attention of getting in their way. His job was to watch the taut steel cable, and call up if he saw anything wrong. He was quite happy to supervise from afar as well; it was safer, as long as the cable didn’t break.

He smiled as he heard a distant screech as the elevator was hauled bodily up the shaft. Finally they could do something that should have been done days ago, SBR, or for the layman, search and body recovery.

The screeching was getting closer and closer, setting his teeth on edge. Finally he espied the top of the elevator and quickly called for the crane to stop. Now was the fun part. He would have to go into the cab and climb out of the trap door in the ceiling. Once there he would have to secure the elevator somehow, to stop it crashing down on their heads at a later stage. Sighing, he carefully tied a white mask to his face and cautiously approached the open doors.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had encountered a barbecued corpse curled up in an elevator cab, and it never hurt to be prepared.

He didn’t find his corpse.

What he did find earned him free drinks for years to come, although at the time all the sight did was turn his blood cold.

" What the fuck?"

There was something written in red on the back of the elevator wall, like it was written in blood.

Slowly he approached the wall, heedless of the repeated queries squawking from the forgotten radio in his hand.

"Oh crap," he breathed, and raised the radio to his lips.

On the wall, in huge letters written in lipstick, were three words.

‘Alive. Help us,’ and the most eerie thing of all, an accurate date.

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Janet Fraiser was cold, shivering, and, oblivious to the pandemonium her lipstick message was causing way above her head, worried sick. She was sat next to her three patients who were still unconscious, Sam, David O’Rourke, and Colonel O’Neill, watching for any encouraging signs, whilst leaning against a still groggy Daniel’s chest, hearing his heart beat. There were no good signs to be had. Sam had been hit hard on the head and an x-ray was imperative, and as for the men, they looked like the end result of a drive by shooting

" They could have allowed you to take some medical equipment you know, just to help," Daniel muttered into her hair.

She turned in his strong arms, liking what years of missions with SG1 had done to his physique.

" I don’t think so Daniel. I don’t think he wanted to risk it." He scowled down at her, clearly upset. He had his arm in makeshift sling and a bitter look on his face, so unlike the Daniel that she knew so well.

" So they die?" He looked at Sergeants De Souza and Davies who were huddled together for warmth. " I don’t know about you, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing whilst my friend, colleague and commanding officer dies." He stared at the hole where the elevator used to be, his eyes hard. " I say we climb the shaft and get help."

" And I say we stay put."

Daniel jerked his head up and glared at Colonel Sato as he carefully picked his way through the humanity and sat next to them. " And what I say goes."

Daniel gritted his teeth, swallowing his surge of anger. " The Air Force doesn’t own me, you know," he said petulantly.

Sato turned his head and looked at the younger man, noticing his anger. It was hard, this inactivity, on all of them. He would have to choose his words carefully now, knowing how much these people needed reassurance.

" We are in the Air Force, where we all obey our commanding officers orders." He nodded to Daniel.

" You, for instance, obey Colonel O’Neill, despite being a civilian, right?"

He was pleased to see Daniel nod.

" Why?"

" Why?" Daniel spluttered, searching for words. " Well, because he’s, well he’s, the leader of SG1."

Sato nodded. "And you are a member of SG1, correct?"

Daniel nodded, watching Colonel Sato warily.

" I see where you’re going with this. You’re saying that we all obey someone, and I should obey you, right?"

Sato looked surprised. " Hell no. I’m saying that we should all obey General Hammond, as Colonel O'Neill would do, and the General told us to stay put."

" So we stay put," Daniel said, staring at Jack as Fraiser once more snuggled into his arms.

"Okay, I can understand that, but it’s hard, listening to him, and doing nothing."

They all fell silent, listening to Jack O’Neill struggle for breath.

" I know," Colonel Sato said sadly. " But we obey. No matter how hard it is."

" Yes sir," Daniel said bitterly.

"Good," Sato sighed, leaning against the wall tiredly.

" By the way, who’s that priest?"

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Colonel Zack Van Ryn still couldn’t believe it, no matter what Major Kent had seen. There was no way, absolutely no friggin’ way that people were still alive down in this hellhole. And if they were, if he and his team had come so close…well, he would never be able to forgive himself. Never.

He stared up at the rest of his S&R team, wondering if they were actually going to live up to their name.

Search and Rescue. After a month? Dear God.

There wasn’t a sound, apart from the clinking of their climbing gear and the occasional clang as one of the metal stretchers hit the side of the shaft, sending streams of dirt down the shaft.

Twenty-seven, eight, nine…thirty, where he could clearly see the silver marks where the elevator had jammed. Thirty-one.

He swung onto the solid floor of the level, only to see a sight he would never have expected to see, even in his wildest dreams.

People, hundreds of people, all staring at him as if he was the Savior Himself.

Slowly a small oriental man uncurled himself from his position on the floor and approached him.

" Good day," he said. " I’m Colonel Sato. What kept you?"

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

" You should have seen his face," Daniel chortled, handing a coke to Jack. " He looked like he was going to have a heart attack."

Jack O’Neill smiled, delighting in breathing in deeply and basking in the warm sunshine. It had been a month since they had been rescued, and he was throwing a party of sorts for the survivors of the SGC fire, well the ranking officers only. Majors up.

He was still in a wheelchair, having somehow broken both legs in that deadly hail that had come from the stargate. He could also feel all the stitches the people at Academy General had put into him to keep him together, and was glad in a way not to move too much. Going to the bathroom was hell, but besides that he liked being wheeled around everywhere. Teal’c was a good chauffeur.

" You realize he resigned his commission?"

From their silence he gathered they hadn’t. " The poor man," Carter murmured, a cute red beret covering her head stitches. " It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t as if we were around in the first place."

" He doesn’t know that," Tony Sato said, opening another beer. " As far as he knows he and his men were right above us, and left. He’s taking it quite personally."

" Shame," Daniel said, turning over the meat on the barbecue, " he needn’t. It’s a pity when something like that happens," he said sadly.

" I know, that’s why I invited him today, to discuss his future." They all turned as General Hammond walked around the back of the house, a mystified Colonel Van Ryn in tow. " Sorry we’re late Colonel," he said, giving a salad to a smiling Janet Fraiser.

" Nah, you’re not late sir," O’Neill smiled. " Joe has that dubious honor, as usual." He gestured towards his guests. " Colonel Van Ryn, meet Major’s Carter, Ferretti, Doctor Fraiser, Colonel Tony Sato, Daniel and the big guy with the tattoo behind me is Teal’c."

Van Ryn looked at the assembled people with narrowed eyes, wondering why they were bothering with him. He had failed them, although no one seemed to be upset about it at all.

" SG5?" Colonel O’Neill’s eyes met General Hammonds, and the General nodded.

" If he wants it, we can incorporate his team and turn it into S&R."

" God, we could most sincerely do with it."

Jack smiled at the mystified Colonel.

" Come on inside…Zack is it?" Van Ryn nodded numbly, trailing behind the still talking man as he was wheeled into the house. " Retirement. Been there, hated it. The General on the other hand likes to rescue us poor souls from oblivion, and give us another chance. He’s willing to do that for you, if you want it?"

" Doing what?" Zack Van Ryn couldn’t help but be suspicious, and to hell with the hovering General.

" Ah, that would be telling," a bright-eyed O’Neill said, waving a finger in the air. " Not without you signing a whole ream of official documents." Suddenly he sobered, and a totally different man emerged. " Take it Zack. You will keep your team intact, and learn what it is to be part of something…great." The smile was back. " We can also lighten your heart, and remove the guilt, if you want us to."

Before Van Ryn could ask the mercurial man what the heck he meant, General Hammond spoke.

" Son, ask yourself how over five hundred people managed to survive a deadly fire, and moreover, survive for over a month without food and water. Ask yourself that, if you haven’t already done so."

He was silent for a moment watching Van Ryn as he grappled with the question. " Now son, if you want an answer to that, and any other questions you might have, you’ll have some documents to sign first, which are on the back seat of my car."

The tattooed man took the proffered keys and left without a sound, which gave Van Ryn another clue as to who they were. Black ops.

" I guess that the black was on the walls way before the fire, right?

Jack O’Neill snorted. " I dunno, we’re never home to look."

EINDE

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