True to Form

by Jb

part two, of nine

Major Panter's voice across the MALP audio link was intermittently unintelligible, distorted by static and irregular interruptions in continuity of the signal. Hammond sighed in frustration. He had two teams out there unable to return due to a malfunctioning DHD and other than a strong suspicion of the nature of the last request in the transmission, he couldn't make out half of what the man was saying. He turned to the tech on duty and told him to advise Panter the SGC would re-establish contact through a new wormhole in thirty minutes. Signaling for the Stargate to be shut down, he instructed the technicians to recycle and enhance both the audio and video relay portions of Panter's report. Then he picked up the telephone and called to have Dr. Jackson located.

Ten minutes and one additional telephone call later, Jackson was there, unasked questions written all over his face and concern in his eyes. General Hammond had the MALP audio replayed three times, before they felt they had a grasp of the situation. Panter was reporting foreign glyphs on the DHD Carter and Teal'c could not decipher. Attempts to dial Earth using previously encountered placement as a guide had failed, as had subsequent experimental attempts to activate the Stargate using random glyphs. Panter's report continued, advising that the teams had done a recon and did not find evidence of an active civilization, however they had found extensive writings similar in style to the altered glyphs on the DHD, carved in solid rock.

"O'Neill ordered," followed by a very short burst of static and then "send Dr. Jackson" had been the last intelligible words of the transmission.

Despite the evident request for assistance, Hammond's feelings about the possibility of sending yet another person to a planet with a non-functioning DHD - especially, under the present circumstances, Dr. Jackson - were unequivocal. O'Neill had indicated he didn't think Jackson was ready to go off-world, and the young man's eventual calm acceptance of being left off this mission had confirmed that assessment for Hammond. Even putting that consideration aside, the wisdom of placing another member at risk was dubious at best.

The General watched as Jackson repeatedly studied the accompanying video playback of the DHD symbols. At first sight, the young man had indicated none of the glyphs were at all familiar, but after a few moments Jackson was able to point out several panels where it appeared the original symbols were possibly still present, integrated into the new shapes. For the most part, however, the alterations were so extensive that the vast majority of the glyphs seemed entirely foreign to both of them.

But there was a particular expression on the young man's face, one that General Hammond had seen before. It was a look of single-minded determination, one that spoke of an impending giant leap of intuition yet to come. As Hammond waited, unambiguous feelings and all, he suspected the decision of whether or not to send Jackson inevitably was out of his hands.

Daniel concentrated on the glyphs with more than just his conscious attention. He allowed his mind to flow in active interaction, to wrap itself in and around the problem like a swirling mist, enclosing and yet being enclosed by the images on the monitor. Upon close inspection, there seemed to be almost a sort of orderliness to the glyphs. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something... there was something vaguely familiar about the appearance of the DHD markings.

The bare beginnings of intuition nibbled at the edges of his mind, some sort of as yet unrealized insight teasing him. Tantalizingly close, yet still very far away. Chewing on the end of his pencil, Daniel leaned back in his seat, pausing the playback.

Hammond stood at his shoulder. "Well? What do you think?"

"Well, from what we can tell the Stargate processes the glyphs and calculates the alignment relative to each other as each one is entered, in the order they are entered. So they'd need to hit not only on the right glyphs but also the correct order. They already tried dialing according to placement but it didn't work, but those aren't the only problems. Even if the luck of the draw was with them, without the point of origin they can't string together a complete address even from random entries. Not that they'd want to dial out with random entries, to... wherever. In any case, random entries or not, from just this playback I don't know if it's possible to eliminate the other symbols to isolate the point of origin."

Glancing over his shoulder at the older man, Daniel tapped his pencil on the table. "Sometimes it's the symbol at the very top of the Stargate, but it's not unusual to find it just about anywhere. Combine that with the odds against random selections forming a valid address to a habitable planet in the first place, and I don't see how they can dial out of there to anywhere without having some way to decipher the glyphs."

Hammond's concern expressed itself through irritability. "You're not being much help here. So what can they do, Dr. Jackson?"

"I'm just as worried as you are, General." Although Daniel tried to keep his voice soft, he knew his feelings about the rebuff were all too evident. But the General's impatience with him wasn't the only thing which pained him. His friends were in trouble, really in trouble. Daniel couldn't bear the thought that after all SG-1 had been through together, that his teammates may not come back - that he might, after all, be left here alone. He didn't think he could handle re-living that terrible feeling of ten days before, the grief that had come from believing himself the only one to survive the destruction of Klorel's and Apophis' ships.

As real as the knowledge was that he was still not ready for field duty, Daniel was even less prepared to even remotely consider he could conceivably end up being the only one left. "Look. I'll know better if I can see the writings. They could be the key to deciphering the symbols; after all, it's most likely the alterations are purposeful."

Daniel stood and turned to face the General. "Sir. Permission to go to P6V221..."

The words were not even out of his mouth and Hammond was shaking his head, doubt written all over his face. "Sir," Daniel protested. "I'll be able to see the writings first hand. Jack wouldn't have asked for me if he didn't think we could do this. Even if we can't dial out, you can dial in to the planet. I can study the symbols in their natural setting, and you can send us whatever resources, texts, files, I don't know... coffee... whatever we'll need."

"Dr. Jackson, I just don't think that's wise. We re-establish contact with them in just under ten minutes. I'm sure we can work out some way you can help out from here." Hammond turned to leave, but was stopped by Daniel's hand on his arm.

"Sir!" Despite his best attempt to keep his distinctly unmilitary demeanor down to a dull roar, Daniel's renewed protest was vehement. At Hammond's disapproving frown, Daniel hastened to soften his tone, putting on his best little-boy-lost expression. "Sir, my team is in trouble out there. I know I can help them. Please. I have to go."

Hammond was no slouch at reading between the lines. Even after all this time, he recognized the appeal as an echo of Jackson's words to him the morning after the second Abydos expedition, the one where Jackson lost all that was dear to him. The young man had lost a wife and a home, due in part to Hammond's own actions. This was the same plea as that made barely one year ago... made in the attempt to coerce Hammond to allow the then-naive civilian to join SG-1.   'Sir. My wife is out there. I have to go'.

Naive? Hammond looked at the young man with exasperation. Even the look on Jackson's face, determination mixed with pleading sincerity, was the same. In some ways the man was still, incredibly, an innocent... but he certainly was not guileless. If the young scientist thought this lost-man-child routine would sway him again, if Jackson really thought he'd fall for this twice...

Even as he rebelled against the overt emotional manipulation, Hammond knew he would relent. Jackson's initial argument was strong; Hammond knew how Colonel O'Neill felt about this young man. O'Neill would never have had Panter ask for Jackson if he felt the young man couldn't handle it, or if there was any possibility they wouldn't be able to solve this problem and come home. If there was any chance at all of SG-1 and SG-7's return, it would be this boy who would bring them all back.

Hammond had reluctantly known, the moment he had seen the intense look of burgeoning insight on Jackson's face, that the choice really was not his to make. The decision was inevitable. Besides, there was the other telephone call to consider. Resigning himself to the risk of possibly losing yet another valuable member, he gave in. "Be ready to go in ten minutes, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel stumbled slightly as he stepped out of the event horizon. Getting his feet under him, he looked around expectantly. He saw SG-7, but where was SG-1? Turning to the three men standing nearby, he recognized Rykert. Nice guy, really keen to learn. Daniel had liked working with him.

"Hey. Hi." Rykert and the other two Marines simply stared at him for a moment, and then upon the approach of Major Panter they scattered like mice caught out in the open. Daniel frowned.

"Jackson. Over this way." Panter waved him toward the DHD. The man's face was flushed and his voice was cold. For a moment Daniel stayed where he was, confused, glancing between Panter and his men who had moved off.

"Jackson!" His name came out of Panter's mouth as if it were a curse. "I said get the hell over here."

Daniel felt his mouth drop open in surprise at the other man's all too evident hostility. Panter reached him in several giant strides and took his upper arm in a firm grip, pulling him along to the dial home device. "Do something with this, will you."

Do something with...? "Uhhh... I, I can't."

Panter's face clouded even further, turning a bluish red color as his eyes positively bulged out of their sockets. Daniel thought the top of the man's head would shoot off. "You can't. Why not?"

Daniel explained as quickly as he could, as if the very speed of the delivery would somehow negate the impact he suspected the words would have on the irate soldier. The symbols were not fully consistent with any language he knew. He needed to see the local written language; the only way to translate the glyphs into something sensible was to find some evidence of the derivation of the alterations.

Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say. Panter's reaction was extreme, to say the least. Daniel suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a forceful grip around his throat. Too surprised to react, Daniel was pushed backward against the side of the DHD pedestal. The hard circular edge of the device dug into the small of his back. The grip on his neck was equally as painful. Daniel looked over Panter's shoulder and was shocked to see the other members of SG-7 simply turn away. Increasingly confused and becoming angry himself, Daniel swiped at Panter's arm, but the stronger man just sneered and with an abrupt motion swept Daniel off to one side, releasing his grip as he did so. Daniel found himself on the ground, staring up into the wrong end of an M16 held by one very pissed off Marine.

"You can't. You can't. Well I can't either... I can't stand around and let you flyboys take over my command, order me around... send O'Neill to baby-sit..." Panter's tone, at the mention of Jack, was venomous. "... and then strand me here on this goddamned rock." He whirled around and marched a few paces away, apparently sinking deep into thought.

Oh crap. Where was Jack? Daniel turned his attention to the other members of SG-7. "Rykert? Where's SG-1? What's going on here?" Rykert rolled his eyes expressively, but did not otherwise answer.

Seeming to come to an abrupt decision, Panter barked at his men. "Let's go. We're moving out." Panter grabbed Daniel's arm, pulling him up to his feet. He removed Daniel's sidearm from its holster and his knife from its sheath and shoved the weapons into the waistband of his own BDU pants. He jerked Daniel forward. "Paulson. Bring him."

Panter led them along the valley floor for quite a distance, every so often pausing to gaze up at the ever increasingly steep slopes to their right and to prod a 'yes' or a 'no' out of a reluctant Rykert. Daniel was unsure what they were looking for. Walking some ten paces behind, every so often given a light shove by Paulson who followed him, he was unable to make out any specific words in the low growl which Panter intermittently directed at Rykert.

At first Daniel had tried to talk to them, to find out where SG-1 was and what it was that was expected of him. After several such attempts, which were met by angry glares from Panter and guilty avoidance from the others, Panter suddenly lost his patience. He covered the distance between himself and Daniel in huge leaps of naked aggression and abruptly gave Daniel a strong backhand which knocked him flat, splitting his lower lip. Not fun. Daniel gingerly fingered his sore lip and decided it would be wise to keep his questions to himself.

After several hours of steady trudging through low brush and intermittent stands of trees, during which time Daniel only just barely managed to avoid making the same mistake again, Panter stopped. "This is far enough." He glanced at Rykert, who nodded. "Stay here. I'll find a way there." With that, Panter disappeared around the next bend toward the cliff face.

As soon as Panter was out of sight, the other three SG-7 team members utterly deflated, their barely maintained facade of indifference mutating into panicky nervousness. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Daniel quickly grasped Rykert's forearm. "What the hell is going on here? Where's Colonel O'Neill?"

"Dr. Jackson... he's gone crazy." The look Daniel gave the other man said that Daniel had already figured that part out, thanks-very-much. Rykert nodded in acknowledgment, and continued. "Yeah. Actually, he always was pretty... scary, like, really arrogant, you know? It just got worse with each mission and he got, well, more and more abusive. But honest to God, Sir, we didn't know he was going crazy..."

"So why did you put up with it? Why didn't you complain or something?" The horrified expressions on the three faces in front of Daniel answered his question well enough. For the life of him, Daniel would never understand the military mind.

"Look, Sir, Dr. Jackson... you're not supposed to be here. Major Panter should never of got you here. He's way out of line. I think, I'm pretty sure, he did it to get back at the Colonel."

Daniel's eyes narrowed as he took in this piece of information. "What?" He looked to the others for confirmation and got pained agreement in response. Cold washed over him as he realized what they were getting at. "Jack... Colonel O'Neill? He never asked for me to come?"

Tyrrell nodded guiltily. "No. The Colonel, he said no one should come, especially not you. But, see, the Major, we couldn't stop him. He does what he wants - Sorry."

No one, especially not... An incipient feeling of betrayal rose in his gut. Jack didn't want him here, didn't trust him enough to be here. Putting aside his own lack of confidence - Daniel knew only too well what was at the root of the hurt feelings which welled up inside him - he tried to concentrate on the situation at hand. Both dismay and rising concern for his team put an edge of panic to his voice. "Where is the Colonel? Is SG-1 okay?"

Eager to atone, Rykert's head bobbed vigorously. Paulson also seemed to regain some inner fortitude. "Yeah, actually they're up there somewhere." He indicated the cliff face towering above. "They went to film some sort of writing or something. We were supposed to wait for them at the Stargate, and report the problem with the DHD. Colonel O'Neill and Major Panter had an argument about you. It was... a doozy. The Major was really upset. He just went nuts after the Colonel left."

Seeing that Daniel didn't fully understand, Rykert filled in the gaps. "The Major wanted to get you here to decipher the DHD. He thinks... he thinks I don't know what I'm doing, and Captain Carter and Colonel O'Neill don't know what they're doing. He thinks he knows more than anybody else. Captain Carter was talking about how this sort of thing was your specialty, linguistics and ancient languages and stuff. So, Major Panter decided you could get us out of here."

Tyrrell interrupted. "I think he figured if there was any chance you could come up with the address to get home, then you had to come here. He's scared, but he won't admit it. He just wants to get back to Earth, and he'll try anything that might get him there. He doesn't care about stranding you here if you can't do it. He doesn't care who else he brings down."

"Right. Colonel O'Neill said no. Said it was too iffy to risk having anyone else come through. He said we would send images of the writings and you could try to decipher them from the SGC." Rykert glanced over his shoulder, wary of Panter's return. "Then Colonel O'Neill said we had all the time in the world to get this figured out, that there was no need for you to be at risk too... and Panter just blew a gasket."

Paulson took over. "He started ranting about how the Colonel stole his command from him. I think he means this mission. Started making comments about you, being, uhhh, well, being just a civilian and how the Colonel..." Paulson looked embarrassed, "... well, how you're called.... how the Colonel has all these nicknames for you and has to protect you and stuff..."

Daniel was hard pressed to keep the stab of pained humiliation from showing on his face. How the Colonel has to protect... nicknames... just a civilian... If Panter thought that, even after the events of ten days ago, then how many others felt the same about him? Paulson would never know how truly hurtful those words were. While this conversation was doing no good at all for his already bruised self-confidence, part of Daniel realized he had probably allowed his insecurities get the better of him. Jack didn't want him here not because he didn't value him, but because he did.

A rustling of underbrush heralded the return of Major Panter. He walked over to the four men and purposefully invaded Daniel's personal space, standing as uncomfortably close as he could to the younger man without actually climbing right on top of him. "Now we're gonna go up there, and you're gonna get us the hell off this godforsaken rock." He glared at Daniel, as if daring him to contradict the statement.

"Oh? And how am I supposed to do that?" Now that he understood the situation, Daniel felt a little better about his own safety. If Panter thought he was their ticket off this planet, it was unlikely the Major would do anything to seriously hurt him. "I won't do anything until I see the rest of SG-1."

Panter's response was rigidly controlled. "Certainly. They're right up there, taking pretty pictures of the language you're gonna translate so you can work the DHD." He grabbed Daniel by the jacket and roughly shoved him in the direction of the steeply sloping cliff base. "Now let's get going, Dr.-know-it-all-Spacemonkey."

Daniel allowed himself to be propelled along. While he was disappointed in Rykert, he still sort-of trusted him, and Rykert had agreed when Paulson had said that SG-1 was above them. So if that was where Panter wanted him to go, then that was all right with him.

Or at least, it was all right with him until he saw how Panter intended for him to get there.

The Stargate was deserted. The MALP stood entirely alone in the glade, a silent, lonely sentinel. There was no sign of the camp the others were supposed to have erected, and no SG-7 anywhere in sight or within hearing.

"For crying out loud..." Jack vented some frustration by throwing his cap onto the ground at his feet. Realizing how petulant that must appear, he quickly stooped and picked it up. Besides, it was his favorite.

"Well, the SGC must have opened up the Stargate by now. We were scheduled to report over four hours ago. I wonder if SG-7 set out to meet us and we just missed them?"

"Oh, sure they did Carter. Panter was probably very afraid for our safety." Jack was angry, and getting angrier by the moment. SG-7 had not even budged toward setting up; all of the packs were still piled up next to the MALP.

"O'Neill. This does not make sense." Teal'c was staring at the ground by the DHD. "There are imprints of more than just SG-7 here." He slowly walked off to the right of it, closely examining the hard packed earth as he moved cautiously, apparently trying to avoid inadvertently interfering with any tracks. Pointing to a slightly scuffed area beside the DHD, he said, "There appears to have been a struggle of some sort, perhaps a fall, over there."

Alarm bells rang for both Jack and Carter. Weapons came up to the ready automatically.

Carter pursed her lips. "Natives?"

"No." Teal'c bent down and touched the ground with his fingertips. "One other person." He looked up at Jack. "Wearing SGC issue boots."

"Oh? What size?" His chest growing tight, O'Neill tried for some light levity... quite unsuccessfully.

Teal'c took the facetious question quite seriously. "If a male, one with relatively small feet. These are the tracks of Major Panter." He pointed to some vaguely disturbed dirt which looked to Jack to be as alike to footprints as the scuff marks his Aunty Nellie's tripod cane left on linoleum. "The rest of SG-7 stood over there. These are the tracks of a fifth person, leading from there..." Teal'c indicated the base of the dais "...over to this location. An individual not as heavy as yourself, O'Neill. However, very likely male, as the spacing of the strides indicates the height to be in excess of most human females. The ground is too hard to provide much more information than that."

Carter asked the obvious. "A male about Daniel's size, Teal'c?" The Jaffa simply shrugged, but the twitch and slight downturn of his lips indicated he thought that was most likely. And that he didn't like that thought much.

Jack read the expression and it confirmed what he already, in his heart, well knew. He turned to survey the rough landscape. Daniel was out there, somewhere... and he was with Panter. And Panter was nuts. A flashback rocked him, this one stronger than any he'd had before; the acrid smell of burnt fabric and flesh and fresh blood; the terrible pain and frustration in Daniel's voice as he urged Jack to go on, get out of here... just going to die anyway on the other ship... what difference does it make... go... just go.

"Can you track them, Teal'c?" The words were whisper soft and immeasurably hard at the same time. Jack was furious. At the Jaffa's slight nod, he shouldered his weapon and indicated Teal'c should lead the way.

Oh shit. Daniel tipped his head back and stared in horror at the faint trail of disturbed dirt which wound through the low brush and myriad various sized rocks dotting the side of the steep slope. The incline went up and up, and then up some more. And then even higher, steeper. He could see, far above, where the slope became sheer enough as to make it difficult for even the weeds to hold their place.

His mouth opened and closed wordlessly. He gestured at the slope, index finger pointing aimlessly as his hand waved around, the movement mimicking the chaos in his mind. There was no way, no friggin' way, he was climbing up there...

Panter confirmed his worst fears. "Get going. I did all the work already. I made a path."

Oh yeah. Some path. Daniel suspected what Panter proudly referred to as a 'path' was simply the evidence of his having passed by that way, and even that faint trace likely would disappear just the other side of the nearer clumps of brush. Panter probably had no idea whether or not the climb was even possible, never mind safe. Daniel now doubted very much that SG-1 was really up there. Jack would never place his team at risk by asking that they scale such a slope.

This time he said it aloud. "No way. No frigging way." Daniel's hand stilled, his arm held straight out and the finger no longer waving aimlessly, but instead confidently pointing up the slope as evidence of his resolve. "Jack, I mean SG-1, isn't up there. And no way am I going up there."

Panter answered by giving Rykert a strong shove in the back with the butt end of the M16. Rykert took the hint and turned to Daniel. "They're up there, really. They went up a different way... we went up from the south the first time, when we found the village. It's a lot easier."

Daniel was confused. "Village? There's a village?"

Rykert cast a nervous glance at Panter. Apparently coming to the conclusion the Major wasn't going to shoot him where he stood, he responded to Daniel. "Yeah. The village. It's carved out of the side of the mountain. That's where we found the writings. Instead of going up the same way, Major Panter took us along the valley floor past the site." He pointed upward and behind them, to a spot somewhat back of their present location. "It's up there, over halfway up the cliff face. We walked past about where it is, so it's a little bit behind us now."

Catching on, Daniel turned to Panter, eyes wide with incredulity. "You want to avoid SG-1. You think they already left the site... that, that they're on the way down to the Stargate. You have no intention of taking me to them." His expression hardened. "Well, I won't go."

So fast as to be a blur, the rifle butt came up and caught Rykert across the jaw, and just as swiftly the business end of the weapon swung around to Daniel. The loud report as it discharged made Daniel jump, and dirt flew up from right in front of his feet. "Sure you will."

Paulson and Tyrrell stood frozen for a moment, before Paulson apparently decided he'd had enough. With a roar he leapt at Panter. The rifle blasted repeatedly, and Paulson first jerked to a halt and then fell backward as the bullets impacted his chest. Daniel and the other two looked on in deep shock as Paulson's lifeless body impacted a tree trunk and slid to the ground.

Panter seemed just as surprised as the rest of them. His face turned a pasty shade of white as he stared at the body, and he started shaking. Swinging the M16 around in an arc, the rifle jumping up and down in time with the twitching of his arms, Panter began to chatter. "No... nooo... he came at me he came... he... the gun, it just... it was because you... look what you did... look what you did..."

Panter's eyes were huge with panic as he abruptly swung the weapon back around to point directly at Daniel. "Look what you did!" Quickly, the white face reddened and then colored further, blackening as Panter's eyes narrowed and the panic was replaced with open hostility. And with something else -

Daniel stood stock-still. It was clear Paulson's death had more or less been a horrible accident - Panter was one giant walking hair trigger, and Paulson had set it off. It was equally clear a second death would not be as unintentional. There was a blatant accusation in Panter's eyes, aimed directly at Daniel. If Panter hadn't been completely off the deep end before, Daniel could see that with this horrific mishap the man had just dived right off the end of the pier with a concrete block tied to his waist.

"Well. I guess that just takes the cake, doesn't it? It's done now, though... maybe it's all for the best." Panter laughed; a shrill, uncontrolled sound that sent a chill up Daniel's spine. Suddenly, the Major tipped his head to one side and smiled coldly, as if listening to something only he could hear. "Yes... it must be all for the best... "

The M16 abruptly turned on Tyrrell, who blanched snow white and began slowly backing away. "You know, Jackson, I really don't give a shit who comes with us and who doesn't." Just as Daniel's impulsivity broke through the wall of his shock and he leapt forward at Panter, he heard the weapon discharge again.

Daniel didn't see Tyrrell fall, but he did hear Rykert's shriek of horror. The only thing Daniel actually saw was a close-up and personal view of the cold steel, grey, side of the rifle as it impacted him with great force. The world flip-flopped sickeningly as he went down hard, clutching his face. The pain was immense; it felt like his nose had been ripped right off and sharp spears of fire lanced through his forehead. As he rolled in torment on the ground, Daniel was only vaguely aware of the blood running freely through his fingers and the sharp fragments lodged in his face from his broken glasses.

He dimly heard Panter ordering Rykert to turn over his sidearm. Through the multi-colored flashes which danced in his tearing eyes he saw Rykert forced to lay on his stomach, while Panter settled himself down on the ground in the shade of a nearby tree. Panter, a complacently pleased expression on his face, seemed to be waiting contentedly for Daniel to come back to his senses.

Panter's apparent self-satisfaction was short-lived. With a sudden burst of static, the radios on their vests came to life and a tinny voice issued forth. Daniel removed one hand from his face and desperately groped for his comm switch, but Panter was there first. A rough hand gripped his own and an unfriendly voice mocked him.

"Don't bother, Jackson. You just go on ahead with what you were doing... just keep on playing roll-around..."

Daniel only just barely heard Jack's voice addressing each member of SG-7 by name, trying to elicit a response, as Panter crouched down, roughly flipped him over, and ripped the radio from his vest pocket. Much to his dismay, Daniel found himself laying flat on his back. Not good. Throwing the radio aside, Panter crouched beside him, laughing, evidently enjoying the soft gurgling noise which was the result of Daniel trying to breath through the flow of blood going from his nose down the back of his throat.

Everything other than his own distress simply faded away as Daniel concentrated on pushing back the pain and swallowing rather than inhaling the blood. With an effort, he rolled onto his side and, after what seemed an eternity of suffering, tentatively raised himself onto his knees. The pain had abated somewhat and he was relieved to find the world no longer spun violently. His relief did not last, as he looked up to see that Panter sat at his side, grinning maniacally.

"O'Neill." Teal'c's voice was hushed. "I hear something, up ahead."

They all stopped on a dime, waiting. They crouched amid the low bushes until Jack felt his knees begin to cramp up. He trusted the Jaffa's senses more than he trusted his own, but it had been more than just a few moments and as hard as he tried, he heard nothing. He was tempted to say so, but Carter beat him to it.

"Teal'c, I don't hear anyth ..."

Carter was shushed as both he and Teal'c raised their hands in warning. There it was... a barely perceptible shuffling and a low, soft, intermittent sound Jack couldn't place; something unnatural and disturbing.

With small jerks of his head, he gave a silent command to fan out, indicating the areas he wished them to move out toward. With well-practiced attentiveness, they stalked the faint sounds which had captured Teal'c's attention. It took only moments for Teal'c to discover the source.

Ah, God. Tyrrell.

Jack and Carter pelted after Teal'c as he ran over to Tyrrell, sweeping the surrounding area carefully with his eyes and staff weapon as he did so. Tyrrell was dragging himself across the dirt, making whimpering and groaning noises through stertorous breathing. Tacky blood caked the side of his head, his neck, and chest. Jack knelt at his side, relying on Teal'c to guard against whatever threat might follow in Tyrrell's path.

"Tyrrell... oh dammit. Tyrrell..." Jack looked up at Carter. So this was what the shots they had heard earlier were all about. They could see the wound, a huge defect in the man's parietal skull on the right side of his head. Tyrrell's eyes were glazed; Jack was pretty certain the young man wasn't seeing anything. He certainly wasn't about to speak, to tell them what happened - his breathing was becoming increasingly irregular by the second.

Consciously schooling his face into an unreadable mask, Jack supported Tyrrell's head and shoulders as the man's life ebbed away, all the while thinking about Daniel who he prayed was close by; hopefully somewhere just up ahead. Up ahead, with Panter. That it was Panter who had done this, had killed his own man, O'Neill had no doubt.

As the ragged breathing slowed to an occasional deep gasp and then disappeared entirely, Jack's rage grew and he felt his careful self-control begin to slip. He'd made a huge mistake. He knew Panter was unstable, that had become quite obvious back at the Stargate. He never should have left Panter in command of anything. The blood on his hands, Tyrrell's blood, was partly due to his misjudgment... it was... was... Charlie's, Skaara's, Daniel's... With a huge effort Jack pulled himself together and carefully slid out from underneath the body.

Shouldering his weapon, he wordlessly directed Teal'c to take point.

The hand which yanked on his vest was relentless, insistent. Daniel slipped and slid on the hard surface, fighting to maintain his balance on the steep slope. His face throbbed painfully, mercilessly, in time with the rapid beating of his heart. Intermittently, blood from what felt like a laceration on his forehead dripped into his eyes, interfering with his vision. Losing his footing, he suddenly pitched forward as his legs flew out from under him. One knee impacted a sizable rock with an audible thwack.

Panter's low growl was immediate, and the pressure against his shoulder and neck increased as the hand pulled at him even more sharply. The owner of the hand, Rykert, made a small whining noise as Panter shoved the menacing end of the rifle into the young Marine's face.

"Keep him moving, Rykert. I'm not going to tell you again."

The three of them struggled up the sharply pitched wall, making their way up the cliff face. Showers of dirt and rockfall pelted down behind them as they scrambled, grabbing at small outcroppings of rock and whatever scrub was firmly rooted enough to support their weight. Panter prodded at Rykert incessantly and stabbed him with the end of the rifle whenever he felt the pace was getting too slow. In turn, Rykert hauled on Daniel's collar, both supporting him and urging him on.

According to Rykert's latest furtively whispered report on their progress, they were close to being about a hundred feet up. Daniel was glad he couldn't see well enough to get a clear visual of their situation. Unfortunately, his mind filled in the blanks all too efficiently. At first it had just been a steep uphill hike, strenuous but manageable. That only lasted for about thirty feet though, as the slope became steeper and the going more and more precarious. Now, safe forward progress was almost impossible. It had gotten to the point they needed to find foot and hand holds just to keep stationary, never mind to climb. For every three feet up, Daniel slid two feet down now... and Panter was becoming increasingly irate.

The sharp pain in his knee stole Daniel's breath away and with it he felt intense nausea rise, robbing him of the ability to continue on. Lurching back from Rykert, he allowed himself to fall flat out onto his stomach on the slope, sliding backward slightly as the thin top layer of looser dirt gave way under his weight. A fresh shower of dirt and rock tumbled noisily down the slope behind him.

"I... I can't..."

Panter's reaction to his complaint was immediate. Daniel's head was pulled sharply backward as Panter yanked on his hair. "You will."

Daniel tried to ignore him, swallowed the bile which had risen in his throat, and directed both his attention and a verbal response to Rykert. "This is impossible... we'll all be killed here. Go... you need to go..."

Enraged, Panter let go of his hair and brought the butt of the weapon around to slam hard into Daniel's upper back. The wind knocked out of him, Daniel's nausea quickly faded in favour of the need for air. He wasn't certain if he should feel grateful or not, for that small dispensation. As his gasping respirations slowly evened out, yet another developing bruise made itself well known. Okay, so... not... grateful.

Daniel could only duck his head and suck in a breath of anticipation as Panter raised the rifle for another go at him. Rykert yelled out and lunged at the officer, grabbing the rifle barrel just as the butt swung around for the second blow. "Stop it! He's right! You want him to be able to read the symbols, don't you? Stop it!"

Rykert's raised voice reverberated off the nearby cliff face. Daniel buried his face in the dirt and waited for Rykert's punishment, bitterly chastising himself for having put the young man in that position. He never should have said anything. Daniel knew that by helping him manage the climb, Rykert had been doing his best to protect him from both the possibility of a nasty tumble and Panter's wrath. Now it would be Rykert who would take the fall.

Panter tried to wrest the gun barrel from Rykert's grasp and sure enough, in doing so, caused both men to lose their balance. Daniel grunted as they fell against him and suddenly he felt himself sliding - sliding, as the combination of their weight and the angle of the impact dislodged the compacted layer of soil on which he lay. He grabbed wildly at the small tufts of scrub next to him, but they weren't rooted firmly enough and the next thing he knew, he was on his side rapidly picking up speed as he slid further down the slope, the sharp edges of small outcroppings of rock digging into him as he passed over them, sliding...

..and then he abruptly stopped, his lower back and hip coming up hard against the edge of a larger upthrust of rock. He looked above him, to where Rykert and Panter stared in shock at him. They were at least fifteen feet higher. He had slipped a fair ways down, and Daniel knew if it wasn't for the rock he was now resting against -

Panter motioned to him to climb back up, and Daniel both literally and figuratively dug in his heels. "No way."

"Jackson, get back up here..." The M16 swung not his way, but around to point at Rykert.

Daniel decided he had to take a chance with the deranged man. There was no way he was capable of making it up this slope in one piece, and it was clear Panter needed him. He only hoped Panter had enough self-control left to not shoot Rykert in a fit of rage. "No. Look, you can shoot him, but then you won't have anyone to haul me up there, will you? And if you do it anyway, there's no way I'll translate anything for you. I thought the whole point of this was that you wanted to get back to Earth?" Daniel mentally crossed his fingers and pretended to ignore Panter's increasingly inarticulate sounds of anger, glancing down the slope behind him. If he could just get Panter to allow Rykert to come down here, just maybe the two of them... if they moved fast enough...

"I won't climb up to you. I can't. I'm not capable; it'd be suicide. This fall I just had should tell you that."

Daniel swiped at the gummy blood on his face, wincing as his hand came into painful contact with some embedded shards of glass he'd missed removing. "I can't do it, Panter. You... you hurt me. I can't make it - you have to send Rykert back down to help..."

An enraged snarl accompanied the spate of small rocks which pelted down as Panter launched himself forward, slipping and sliding to where Daniel lay. "Nobody goes back down..." He slid into Daniel feet first, one foot coming up against Daniel's hip and the other ending up precariously close to that most delicate of locations. Daniel felt the outcropping behind his hip vibrate with the impact, but it was holding. For the moment.

Panter leaned close, grabbed at Daniel's jacket and shook him, slammed him up against the rock which vibrated once again and then...cracked. Just as Daniel was about to contradict Panter's last statement about nobody going back down - to warn him about the outcrop which was about to give way - the words stuck in his throat at a new development. A sudden burst of static followed by a small, tinny voice floated in the air between their chests.

Go on to part three

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