"Were it not better to forget, than but remember and regret?"
—Letitia Elizabeth Landon, Despondency

"But men are men; the best sometimes forget."
—Shakespeare, Othello

Colonel Jack O’Neill scowled as he looked at his watch for the third time in less than a minute. Dr. Daniel Jackson, linguist and resident expert on the history of the Stargate and just about anything ancient, was late again. Recently, it had become a habit. O’Neill glanced over at Major Samantha Carter, his second in command and a brilliant astrophysicist to boot, who stood talking quietly with Teal’c. Come to think of it, they’d been doing a lot of that lately too, O’Neill noted absently, resisting the urge to squeeze the bridge of his nose to ease the headache he felt coming on already. It was too early in the day for that. He glanced back at Carter and Teal’c, envious of their ease, their serenity. They also had the patience of saints, unlike their team leader.

"Carter, when was the last time you saw Daniel?" O’Neill asked sharply, walking down the ramp to where the other two stood at the door of the embarkation room.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes full of accusations. He knew his tone was severe—had been for days now—but he didn’t care. He was sure that she was labeling today as another one of "those" days. He could even see the quotation marks hanging in the space between them. When was the last time they had actually had fun as a team—as friends even? It had been a long time. He missed Carter’s smile, Daniel’s laugh, and Teal’c’s amused gazes. He knew it was his fault—everything was his fault. From one screwed up mission to another, these days it seemed like that was all they ever got. Unfriendly natives, bloodthirsty Jaffas, insane goa’ulds, it was always the same. First contact wasn’t the picnic it had once appeared to be. Bad command decisions—his bad command decisions—continued to pile up. Injuries—near-death injuries to his team and others—continued to escalate. His bad command decisions cost lives. His bad decisions always came back to haunt him, keeping him awake at night as he relived them over and over again in all their gory details.

Fun? What was that? Maybe that was the problem. Too much fun, not enough concentration on the mission at hand. Too bad, O’Neill thought bitterly. Fun was definitely not on the agenda today, and to top things off, Daniel was already pissing him off and they hadn’t even left the planet yet. He realized Carter had started speaking and jerked himself quickly back to reality.

"…I left him in the locker room changing. He said he had to make a quick stop at his lab to pick something up," Carter said. She hesitatingly continued, her face plainly showing her conflicting emotions. He knew she wasn’t going to tell him what he wanted to hear. "That was about twenty minutes ago, sir," She was fingering the pocket on her vest nervously. O’Neill hadn’t seen her do that in a long time.

"Twenty minutes ago," O’Neill mumbled under his breath turning toward the Stargate. He sighed and looked beseechingly toward the ceiling. Twenty minutes? God, it felt like an hour, he thought absently rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He could feel Carter’s eyes digging into him. An awkward silence stretched between them before she spoke again.

"Colonel, do you want me to go and get him?"

He exhaled sharply and turned to her, his hand dropping quickly to his side. He felt like he had just gotten scolded. Her tone was all business, lacking the familiar easiness they had developed over the years. When all else failed she fell back on her military training and the fact that she was using it now surprised him. He looked—really looked—at her before answering. She looked tired, drained even. He hadn’t noticed that before. Honestly, he hadn’t taken the time to notice, too caught up with his own troubles and distractions. Concern for him filled her blue eyes. She was always so real. He could always trust her. He trusted her to watch his six. He trusted her with his life. Usually, she knew exactly what to say or do to make him feel better, but this time was different: he wasn’t giving her any clues and she was worried. It showed in her posture—from her tired expression to her pain-filled eyes to her shoulders rounded in defeat…Defeat? Had he been that bad? Had she finally given up on him? It wouldn’t surprise him; everyone eventually gave up on him. He had hoped…had thought…that this time it might be different.

He almost took her up on the offer, but for some reason, felt compelled to get the errant archeologist himself. "No Carter, I’ll get him. It’s my turn anyway. You got him the last time." He smiled briefly without humor and started toward the door. "Besides, it’s time we had one of our little chats."

"Chats? Are you sure…" Carter turned to face him, and he realized that her worried expression was more for Daniel’s sake than his own. That fact sunk his spirits further still. Even worse than the pity he saw in many people’s eyes these days was the hint of suspicion that somehow he had changed so dramatically that he could actually harm Daniel—or any member of his team. Had he really lost their trust? He sighed softly in resignation as he stepped through the door of the gate room, glancing back to see Teal’c’s eyebrows start their journey upward.

He paused briefly in the doorway and waved his hand, abruptly cutting Carter off, his tone sharper than was necessary. "Don’t worry about it, Carter. When I mean talk, I mean talk. I won’t hurt him if that’s what you think." His eyes were dark, tossing accusations at his second in command, daring her to argue with him. When she shifted her gaze downward, he knew he was right. His own team didn’t trust him anymore. He turned back to the drab corridor disgusted with himself for thinking that this team would have been any different than any other he’d commanded. It was just a matter of time before they realized what everyone else had over the years.

"I’ll be right back." He threw his last words over his shoulder as he strode down the hall. He could almost picture her trying, without success, to explain to Teal’c why a chat could be considered dangerous to Daniel Jackson’s health. Before, that would have brought a smile to his face, but things were different now. He was different.

Carter sighed as she watched her CO walk down the hallway until he turned the corner and was lost to her sight. Over the past week or so, he had been more difficult than usual. Granted, she realized, he was normally a little stand-offish, but even his attempts at humor—as rare as they had become—were sharper, more pointed; less like humor and more like direct criticisms.

He was a tough nut to crack on a good day, but when he retreated into his shell the way he was doing now it was nearly impossible for anyone to get through. Usually Daniel was able to weasel his way in, breaking through the walls the Colonel had put up. This time, however, no matter what he tried, no matter which way he went, Daniel was getting nowhere. It was as if Colonel O’Neill had special Daniel sensors installed, alerting him to when Daniel was playing mother hen. If anything, the Colonel’s mood had been hardest on Daniel. In many ways, they were as close as brothers with Daniel playing the role of the younger sibling to O’Neill’s older brother routine. It still served as an oddity among many on base of how they—two opposites—could get along so well.

Sam quickly glanced over at Teal’c’s hulking figure to find him looking at her strangely. "Major Carter, are you unwell?"

She realized she was frowning and still staring after O’Neill even though he was long since gone. She sighed softly, looking Teal’c directly in the eye. She knew he was worried about her and the team. They’d talked a lot over the past week—ever since Jack…Colonel O’Neill had gotten weird, for lack of a better term. They’d been through some tough times over the years but they’d muddled through his moods. One day he could charm a monkey out of a tree and the next day it took pliers and several attempts at extraction to get even the slightest reaction from him. This was several times worse.

She knew he had been to the edge and back too many times to count and some days they came back to haunt him. Some days were harder on him than others, especially when it concerned his son Charlie. He had never forgiven himself for Charlie’s death, she knew. Guilt and longing were in his eyes every time they made first contact, especially if there were kids involved. It didn’t matter if the boys didn’t look anything like his son, when Jack looked at them, that was all he saw—the smiling face of his dead son. He saw the life that could have been, that should have been.

"I’m okay, Teal’c. Just worried about the Colonel."

Teal’c inclined his head toward her. "O’Neill is a brave and stalwart warrior and a fine leader. I am convinced he will prevail in this battle as he has done on numerous occasions."

"I know. I’m still worried. He’s never been like this for so long." She shook her head and shrugged without coming up with a better explanation. "It’s just not like him."

Teal’c examined her carefully for a moment before speaking again. "I, too, am worried Major Carter."

Grasping his P90 in both hands to stop it from swinging O’Neill’s purposeful stride and determined expression kept greetings to a minimum. As tough and hard as he appeared, he knew he had many loyal friends among the SGC personnel—which always surprised him no end. He knew from first hand experience that there were many that would put their life on the line to help him. More times than he could count, other teams had volunteered to help him and his team when they got into trouble—which seemed to happen more and more.

But today, his demeanor and field BDUs prevented anyone from stopping him. Lately, even those who were inclined to stop him to say hello stayed away. News spread fast among SGC personnel and these days the message was simple, "Stay clear of Colonel O’Neill."

He approached Daniel’s office quietly. Black ops training had forced him to develop that habit, and it was a hard one to break. The door was open, so he took that as an invitation to snoop. It was what he was here to do anyway. Looking in, he noticed that Daniel was nowhere to be found. The piles of artifacts and papers appeared to be in the same place he remembered seeing them—not that he paid attention to what was on Daniel’s desk most of the time. It always amazed him that Daniel could get so much work done in an office that did such a good impression of the aftereffects of a passing F5 tornado.

He hesitated inside the door, glancing around furtively. His forehead creased, a frown of confusion finally finding its way to his face. Where was Daniel? Without him in the room, Jack felt awkward just wandering in. He could. He knew Daniel wouldn’t mind, but knowing his luck, he’s just end up breaking some priceless artifact. Besides, who needed an agitated archeologist griping for days?

He had almost turned around and given up, thinking Daniel must already be on his way to the gateroom when he finally spotted Daniel—at least the bottom half of him—sticking out of the closet in the back of the room. O’Neill grinned mischievously, a glint of glee in his eye. This might be fun, he thought, at least for a brief moment. Even in a bad mood, Jack never passed up an opportunity to pick on his favorite archeologist.

Jack cleared his throat quietly, trying not to disturb the scene playing out before him. Knowing Daniel, he wouldn’t hear anything short of a loaded freight train rumbling through his office—and even then, Jack had his doubts. "Dr. Jackson, just what do you think you’re doing?" O’Neill yelled in the strongest military voice he could manage. He was rewarded instantaneously.

A dull thump and muffled curse from inside the closet was heard and Daniel Jackson eased himself out, a dusty book in hand. He turned to O’Neill whose smirk had been replaced by a disapproving scowl. Daniel rubbed the top of his head where he had smacked it against the metal shelf. "Jack, why did you have to go and do that?" Daniel asked aggravated. "Why can’t you ever grow up?"

O’Neill’s eyes hardened in response and he replied, his tone severe, all business. While he normally found intense pleasure in annoying Daniel, these days the thrill was gone. Some people just knew how to suck the fun out of everything and Daniel was one of them. "Daniel, what time was our mission this morning?"

"0700. Why?" Daniel answered automatically, an innocent expression on his face as he absently rubbed his head. He removed his glasses and pressed the heel of his free hand into one of his eyes. Jack knew that early mornings were not the best time for discussions like these, especially when Daniel had yet to have a full cup of coffee. It was one of those mornings, Jack noted, spotting Daniel’s first cup of the day sitting on the desk, half-full and cold.

"Do you know what time it is?" He was trying to be patient and calm, but it wasn’t easy. Those qualities were found in spades in both Carter and Teal’c while impatience was usually residing closer to home. He gripped his P90 tighter picturing in his mind’s eye his hands snaking around Daniel’s neck. If Daniel noticed the gesture, which was a distinct possibility, he pointedly ignored it.

"Oh, I don’t know, Jack," Daniel said exasperated. "0710? 0715? What does it matter? I had to get some stuff before we left." Daniel replaced the glasses on his nose before he turned his attention to the book he held, attempting to clean the dust off without sneezing.

O’Neill sighed loudly as he watched the cloud of dust heading his way. Things never changed. No matter how much time passed, with Daniel things always stayed the same; he did everything his way and in his own time. Jack waved his hand through the air, trying to dissipate the dust cloud before he started sneezing. That was all he needed—to show up in the gateroom with tear-filled eyes thanks to a sneezing fit and a lung-full of Daniel’s dust.

"Daniel, it’s nearly 0740 and Hammond, not to mention Carter and Teal’c, are waiting for you to grace us with your presence in the gateroom. Besides," he said his voice hardening and his eyes flashing with barely contained anger, "what can be so damn important that you can’t be on time?" The unspoken phrase, ‘for once in your life’ hung in the air, but by the tone of O’Neill’s voice it was as good as said. He took a breath before continuing trying to calm his already frayed nerves. This time his words were softer. "Daniel, God knows, I don’t ask a lot from you, especially since you’re not military, but punctuality is one of those things I do expect." When his words didn’t get an immediate reaction, his tone hardened once again. "Daylight’s burning. We need to move."

Daniel turned back to O’Neill an imploring expression on his face, his blue eyes wide behind his glasses. "Jack, ever since the briefing, I’ve had those ruins the MALP transmitted running through my mind. I’ve been trying to do a little research, but I haven’t found much. This morning when I was getting ready, I realized I had a book in here somewhere." He gestured widely toward the closet and the offending metal shelf. Daniel threw the book down on his desk and another puff of dust rose toward the ceiling. "And this is not it." He turned back to stare at the closet accusingly.

O’Neill was done. "Ack!" O’Neill’s sharp tone turned Daniel right back around. "Let’s go. Forget the stupid book. We need to make tracks. Now." O’Neill’s voice was unwavering. His patience was gone and it wasn’t time to belabor the point.

"Okay, okay. I’m coming. You know, you could have sent Sam." Daniel said, picking up his pack from where he dropped it on the floor nearly forty-five minutes ago.

"What?" O’Neill asked, giving Daniel an incredulous look as they made their way to the embarkation room. He had heard him, but wasn’t sure where Daniel was going with it.

"At least she would have helped me look."

O’Neill glared at Daniel, his eyes narrowing. "Does it surprise you that I’m a lot smarter than I look?" With only a few words he managed to render Daniel speechless and stop him in his tracks. Without pausing to wait for the younger man, O’Neill continued on to the gate room, letting Daniel struggle to catch up with him. How had he managed to get saddled with him in the first place? Intellectually, he knew the reasons why Daniel was on the team but lately his gut was telling him something else. What place did an archeologist have on a front line unit? Sometimes he wondered if it really was a good idea. This was one of those times.

"Does it surprise you that I’m a lot smarter than I look?"

Daniel blanched, his mouth dropping open. He stopped dead in his tracks staring after the retreating back of one Colonel Jack O’Neill. An answer either way would not go over well and two days on an alien planet with an overbearing and annoyed Jack O’Neill was not what he had in mind. It was bad enough Jack had come to fetch him like some five-year-old that had gotten separated from his mother. It was bad enough that Jack continued to treat him like a kid. The condescending tones and looks—especially as of late—had only gotten worse.

He tried to pick up the pace, but he knew it was a losing battle. Jack wasn’t one to make anything easy. It was bad enough that he had to struggle to keep Jack in sight, but he still had to pull on his vest and backpack, slowing his progress even further. No surprise there. Jack’s long legs and rushed pace made it close to impossible to catch up with him.

Daniel ran into the embarkation room huffing and puffing a little. Of course, Jack had decided to start without him.

"Okay kids," Jack said from his position at the base of the ramp as he adjusted his cap. "We’re all ready to go." O’Neill looked up to the control room where General George Hammond stood patiently waiting. "Sorry about the delay, sir. We’re ready to depart."

Hammond leaned forward and clicked on the microphone, his voice echoing through the gate room. "SG1, you have a go. I’ll see you in 36 hours. Good luck, people, and try to be on time." He didn’t smile, but Daniel knew that the remark was aimed at him. He glanced up at Hammond in surprise, trying not to glare. Was everyone out to get him this morning? Usually General Hammond refrained from taking potshots at him. At least Sam and Teal’c kept their comments to themselves. Sam’s eyes were compassionate when he finally turned to look at her. They both knew how Jack could be when he was in one of his moods, and from the looks of it this morning, they were in for a whopper. Whoever said women were the moody ones had never met Jack O’Neill—especially when he got up on the wrong side of the bed.

Who knows what had set this mood off, Daniel mused. He didn’t think there was anything special about today’s date, but then with Jack O’Neill anything was possible. He wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming person, especially when it came to his personal life. For all he knew, Daniel thought absently, it could be that Jack’s favorite deli had closed or he forgot to tape the Simpsons. The sound of the inside track of the Stargate spinning, locking the coordinates in place one by one, finally drew him back to the present.

"Aye, sir. We’ll be back in time for dinner." O’Neill said turning to face the Stargate. Out of habit, Jack adjusted his field jacket and vest, checking to make sure everything was in place. Sam and Teal’c stepped up beside him, standing an arm’s length away. Daniel scooted up behind them, trying to stay out of Jack’s way. His head still hurt where he’d smacked it against the shelf. He rubbed his hand lightly against the bump. At least it wasn’t bleeding, but he was going to have a nice bruise there by the end of the day, thanks to Jack. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jack glancing back at him. He knew he was in for something, most likely O’Neill’s sharp, sarcastic tongue.

"Danny boy, try and keep up. I’d hate to have to put a leash on you. Besides, I’m not sure if you’re housebroken."

Daniel glared back at Jack testily. Just what he needed; another astute remark from their fearless leader. The ka-whoosh of the gate opening delayed any other conversation. Besides, without a gallon of coffee in the morning, he felt as if he were still half-asleep—not exactly the best circumstances to make his usual witty remarks. He settled for shooting Jack one of his more annoyed looks, not that it did much good since Jack was already heading up the ramp.

"Let’s move out, kids. To grandma’s house we go," O’Neill chirped, stepping through the event horizon even before the blue liquid was still.

Teal’c raised his eyebrow, perplexed and turned to him. "What is this grandma’s house to which O’Neill indicated we are going?"
"Teal’c, don’t worry. Jack’s just trying to be funny," he said, watching Sam disappear through the gate, a half smile on her face. At least he could be sure that some things would always stay the same.

"Indeed," Teal’c said, stepping through the event horizon. Daniel glanced back briefly at the control room where General Hammond looked on, before he too stepped through to the other side.

"Well kids, welcome to a rather moist P5X-171. Didn’t anyone think to check the weather before we got here?" O’Neill asked scanning the horizon and pulling his collar closer to his neck as water dripped down into his shirt. Just what he needed—another tree-filled planet. And to top it off, SG-1 had gated here during its rainy season. Joy.

Teal’c, off to his left, stood at attention, his staff weapon in hand, his eyes focused on the area around the gate. He was reliable like that, a tower of strength over the past few years. Unmovable. A rock.

Carter was already checking out the DHD. There had been too many times when they had almost gotten stranded because the DHD wouldn’t work. A number of times, they had spent the entire mission trying to figure out what was wrong with the device instead of scouting and exploring the area. Her curt nod indicated everything looked fine. Good. Check that off the list.

O’Neill heard rather than saw Daniel stumble down the stairs. The rocks strewn in front of the gate made for some tricky maneuvering, especially if you weren’t paying attention—and knowing Daniel, he probably was too busy looking at the scenery to notice. Jack wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but he had almost taken a nosedive and ended up sprawled in front of the gate when he came through. Thankfully, he was able to catch himself—and preserve whatever was left of his dignity before anyone saw him—one of the benefits of being the first one through. Although there were always times when being the first one through was problematic, especially when it involved unfriendly natives or an angry mob of Jaffa.

He peered through the fog and rain, trying to make out the tree line ahead of them. He hated trees and forests—especially off-world ones. They could hide countless Jaffa—battalions even. Forests had done so on many occasions before and they had been forced to learn the hard way. There really wasn’t much to see besides the MALP: some trees, the DHD, rocks scattered over the ground, and a few mounds of ruins back at the edge of the clearing. Daniel will be happy, Jack thought absently, more rocks for him to play with.

The piles of stones and boulders around the Stargate made travel difficult—especially since they were slick from the rain. If it had been a clear day, O’Neill was sure that the view from the steps in front of the Stargate would have been stunning. He remembered the footage from the mission briefing. It had looked fabulous on film. In person, everything was even more impressive. The Stargate stood on the side of a hill overlooking a lush valley, full of plant and animal life. If times were different, Jack could see himself retiring somewhere like this. It reminded him of his childhood and the untouched wildernesses back home in Minnesota. In its own way, it made him homesick, wishing for the simpler times—the simpler life he remembered. A life unencumbered by bad decisions. A life where he didn’t send his friends to their deaths at an enemy’s hand. A life where he hadn’t held a grudge against his best friend. A life where his son hadn’t killed himself with a carelessly hidden hand gun.

O’Neill heard the gate close behind Daniel and glanced back, squinting through the rain, to see the dirt and rock façade that made up the back of the gate. It was as if the gate was built directly into the side of the hill.

"Maybe it’s just a passing storm, sir. When they sent the MALP through earlier this morning, it was clear," said Carter from her position at the DHD, as if it were any consolation. She unclipped the pack from her back, letting it drop to the ground with a thud. She looked up, squinting as the rain hit her face.

"Jack," Daniel said, trying to clean his glasses on his shirt. He didn’t have much success and eventually gave up, tucking them away in a pocket. He zipped his field jacket up under his chin to prevent the rain from getting everything wet. When Daniel didn’t continue, O’Neill glanced back and realized that was what Daniel was waiting for. He indicated the ruins with his head. "I’m going to check them out. Might as well do something instead of standing here getting wet." He moved without waiting for approval, pulling his boonie hat down to cover more of his exposed neck.

O’Neill sighed and nodded. It was useless to argue at this point, besides, that was what they were here for. He unclipped his pack and knelt down on one knee to dig through it, safe in the knowledge that Teal’c and Carter were keeping an eye out. "Sure thing, Danny boy. Get right on that. I might recommend a rain poncho if I were you," he said, muttering to himself. He reattached his pack and slid the rain poncho over his head. Glancing at Teal’c who had already done the same, he caught his eye and pointed him toward the tree line with an outstretched hand. Teal’c moved immediately to comply. Nice that someone still follows orders around here, he thought. "Teal’c and I are going to take a look around. Carter," he said with a wave of his hand as he watched her shrug herself into her rain poncho, "do that thing you do. Keep regular checks every 30 minutes."

Carter nodded briskly. "Yes, sir." He flashed her a look of surprise at her tone and wondered vaguely if she was going to salute too. Things had definitely changed. He turned on his heel and headed off to the right of the gate into the tree line. Seconds later both he and Teal’c were lost in the fog.

Sam watched Teal’c and O’Neill walk toward the tree line, only to be swallowed up whole by the fog and mist seconds later. Shaking her head slightly, she turned her attention back to her pack while her mind wandered, following her teammates as they weaved their way through the forest.

Things change, but some things always stay the same. Daniel’s enthusiasm, even in the pouring rain, was a constant, as was Colonel O’Neill’s exasperation with him. The Colonel’s overly protective nature would send Teal’c and him in circles if need be, but she knew she and Daniel would be safe. No matter what happened, that would always be a constant with him. He always thought about the team before he considered anything for himself. Day after day, she watched him put the needs and wants of his team first. Even if he had to sacrifice himself, the team would get home—she’d witnessed that first hand many times. Even O’Neill’s light attitude—if forced at times—was standard.

"Daniel," Sam said turning her attention back to the present. She spoke loud enough for her voice to carry over the distance and the weather. Everything seemed subdued here as if the very planet was holding its breath. She leaned down to the backpack at her feet and removed the sample vials for collecting dirt and soil samples. "What kept you this morning?"

She saw a look of puzzlement cross Daniel’s face as he concentrated on the mound of rocks in front of him. He had squatted down to get a closer look and was already lost in his world. She was pleasantly surprised to see that he had at least followed the Colonel’s suggestion and put on his rain poncho. "Uh…what Sam?" came the nebulous reply.

Sam smiled to herself. What a typical Daniel response, she thought, laughing to herself. Sit him in front of a rock or an inscription in an obscure dialect and he was in heaven. "When we were getting ready this morning, I thought you were going to be right behind me. What happened?" She moved cautiously across the uneven ground, looking for a good spot to snag some soil samples. Most of the dirt around the gate was hard packed and very rocky. Not the best place for soil samples. She spotted a promising area not too far from Daniel. At least they could continue their conversation without having to scream across the clearing. If there was anyone about—especially hostile natives—she didn’t want to announce herself, just in case Teal’c or the Colonel missed them. Unfortunately, that had also been known to happen.

When she glanced back at Daniel, he was sitting back on his heels, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the rain away. "Sam, I’ve been thinking about this planet ever since the briefing," he admitted, absently brushing some moss-like plant away from the inscriptions on the stones. "I tried to explain it to Jack, but he wasn’t in any mood to listen to me this morning." Daniel glanced up, catching Sam’s gaze. "What’s gotten into him lately? He’s been uptight—even more than usual." Sam shrugged in reply and he continued, absently staring at what his wandering fingers were uncovering. "Anyway, I’m not all that familiar with the Celtic culture, but I know I had some books on it. I was hoping to find one before we got here. I turned my apartment upside down last night looking for the books and I realized that I must have stored them at the base." He stopped speaking suddenly. His attention focused on what he uncovered. "Sam, come look at this." Daniel sounded excited, and when she looked up from what she was doing, he was frantically waving her over.

She moved quickly to his side. "What do you have there?"

"What does this look like to you?" he asked, indicating an object sticking out from between the stones in what Carter though was the remnant of some kind of wall.

Carter crouched down low next to him, trying to clean some of the dirt from around the object with her fingers. "Well," she said wiping her muddy fingers on her pants, "from this angle, it looks like part of a ribbon device. But why would it be here?" She looked quizzically at Daniel.

"That’s what I’d like to know." He stood and examined the large stone that sat on top of the wall at waist level. It was large, but Carter knew exactly what was going through his mind. He was sure the stone could be moved with a little persuasion. Sure enough, the request came moments later.

"Help me move this, would you? I’d like to see what else is under there."

"Daniel, aren’t you worried about disturbing something?" she asked as she moved to comply. Daniel was usually a stickler for keeping ruins and finds exactly as they were until he could log everything into the journal he carried. It wasn’t like him to move something until he had figured out why it was there in the first place.

He shook his head. "Not really. There’s not much here." His eyes quickly roamed over the vestiges of what was some type of multiple room building. She knew those eyes were calculating what this building could have been. A stone’s throw from the Stargate and DHD, this building could have served any number of purposes—a guardhouse, a gatehouse, a hunting lodge, a way station, or something else entirely. Whatever it had been, its usefulness was long since over.

"These ruins look like they’ve been here for centuries. Right now I’m more curious about the ribbon device. On three?" He looked to Sam for confirmation.

Sam nodded, bracing herself and gripping the top rock.

"Okay. One…two…three…" Daniel counted off and, with Sam’s help, they were able to move the rock enough to get a little more access to the partially buried ribbon device. He knelt down and began digging around the object with his field knife. The knife came in handy for something, although Sam was sure that the Colonel wouldn’t approve of its use on this occasion.

"Okay…well lookie here. It seems like this might have been attached to a hand at one point in time," Daniel commented as brittle bones emerged from his digging.

"What is that?" Sam asked, pointing to a metal object that stuck out from the remains of the human hand.

"That looks like a dagger of some kind. From the design on the hilt, I’d have to venture a guess and say that it’s Celtic. If the owner of this ribbon device was alive when he left through the Stargate, I think he might have been missing something." Daniel said, indicating the fact that the bones ended somewhere in the vicinity of where the wrist might have once been.

"How can you be sure they went through the gate?" Sam asked, suddenly concerned. The forest was quiet, the rain and fog providing plenty of cover for someone with nefarious motives. She stood and tried to squint through the fog. Her hand automatically went to her radio. "Colonel, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Carter. What’s the problem?" O’Neill’s voice came back seconds later. He didn’t sound like a happy camper, which was no surprise to Sam. Rain never put him in a good mood, and couple that with his current bad attitude, and you would have one very unhappy Colonel.

"Daniel’s discovered something interesting, sir. A Goa’uld hand device."

"Daniel’s discovered something interesting, sir. A goa’uld hand device," Carter said, her voice sounding thin and tinny through the radio. He didn’t understand why her voice sounded that way but Jack was certain that if he asked Carter would be more than happy to explain it all to him. He knew better, though, after having to sit through more than one of her explanations. Ignorance is bliss—especially when it came to long-winded explanations delivered by a scientific genius.

"Good. Pack it up. We’ll bring it home. It’s always great to collect souvenirs. You know how the guys down in the labs drool over anything we bring them," O’Neill quipped, trying to sound lighthearted even though the forest felt like it was pressing down on him. He stepped carefully over a tree root. There were tons of them around, coming up out of the ground at odd angles and making his progress treacherous. He was walking along some kind of path, but one that clearly didn’t see much use. The forest was starting to encroach and that made it difficult to navigate. As much as he disliked wandering aimlessly through the forest on a planet far, far away, he knew it was better than doing nothing. It gave him something to do, something useful, while Carter and Daniel did their thing. Besides, his pacing always put everyone in a bad mood. He figured one bad mood was enough.

"I guess no one thought to bring an umbrella," he mumbled to himself as another rivulet of water wormed its way into his shirt. O’Neill looked up, catching movement in the trees out of the corner of his eye. Probably a bird, he thought, or the wind. There was nothing else around.

"Jack, it looks like whoever lived on this planet put up a fight against the gou’ald. If that’s the case and those people are still here, we might have found an ally," said Daniel. His voice through the radio was laced with enthusiasm and brought back memories. I am going to have to put a leash on him one day, Jack thought absently. Can’t have archeologists just wandering off.

Jack could picture Daniel in his mind’s eye standing at the site by the gate, the radio in his hand as he explored the area, one ball of pure energy. Rain was probably dripping from the rim of Daniel’s hat and O’Neill was sure that a trickle had found its way down Daniel’s neck into the collar of his shirt. But he would ignore it, just as he would ignore anything short of the end of the world—and only then would he pay attention because it would destroy whatever it was that had caught his fancy this time around. "I hear you, Daniel. From what I can see, there’s not much in this general vicinity but trees and fog—and a lot of both, I might add. I’ll head back to your position and we can all take a little hike together. Consider it a bonding experience. Teal’c, how are you doing, buddy?"

"I am well, O’Neill," came back Teal’c prompt response. "However, I am uneasy."

O’Neill frowned. He always trusted Teal’c’s judgement and those few words immediately put him on the defensive. Lately, the bad feelings had only been his. "Uneasy? Teal’c, what’s wrong?" At Teal’c assurance he was fine and in no immediate danger, he continued, "Okay, let’s meet back at the ruins with Daniel and Carter in ten minutes anyway. We can re-evaluate everything there," O’Neill ordered, stepping around yet another tree root. A raven watched his progress as he stopped to survey the area.

"I will be there, O’Neill."

"Carter, Daniel. Stay put. We’ll be right with you." As long as nothing jumps out of the woods at us, he added to himself as he picked up the pace to get back to the rendezvous point. He had taken a path that seemed to loop wide around the right side of the gate, heading off into the hills behind the stargate. Another path—or something that could be loosely defined as a path—seemed to loop back to the clearing and he decided it was probably the easiest way back without having to backtrack. He stepped around fallen tree limbs and small rocks, avoiding some of the muddier areas. Sure enough the trees started thinning out and a clearing appeared. He could just make out the Stargate off in the distance. Stepping carefully on the rocky ground, he made his way to his team.