General Hammond was fooling himself in thinking that he was actually getting any work done. The computer screen before him hadn’t changed in the last hour. While he had come into his office with every intention of doing work, once he sat down the events of the day washed over him.

It had started off badly with a dead car battery and had concluded with an amnesiac team and the loss of his second-in-command. At this point, he wasn’t sure it could get much worse.

Or could it?

Why this had to happen to them was something altogether beyond him. Hadn’t they had enough hardship in their lives? Teal’c, considered a traitor by his own people, a lone alien among humans, fighting a war he might not win. Because of him, his family was a target, ostracized from the very society that had once cherished and nurtured them.

For Major Carter, this program was a huge coup, but even then, there had been hardship. Taken as a host by a "friendly," Jolinar, fighting countless battles, solving riddles when the lives of everyone on the planet relied on her making the correct decision. She had given up family and a normal life when she first got involved and now even her father was a stranger to her at times as a host to Selmac.

Dr. Daniel Jackson, rescued from a life of ridicule in the archaeological community and thrust headfirst into the military machine, found that he had the most to lose—his wife and his brother-in-law to the enemy.

For Jack O’Neill, this was just one more assignment tacked onto an already lengthy military career—none of which had been easy. He didn’t even want to imagine some of the horrors Jack O’Neill had faced head-on over the years to make him the man he was under General West’s command during the first Abydos mission. Hadn’t he suffered enough at the hands of the Iraqis? Hadn’t he suffered enough while he held his dying son in his arms, watching the very lifeblood flow from the only child he had?

Lost in his thoughts, Hammond barely registered someone entering the briefing room. From past experience, he could tell it wasn’t Teal’c—that boy was worse than Colonel O’Neill when it came to sneaking up on people. It still amazed him that a man that large could move almost without making a sound.

It couldn’t be Dr. Jackson, unless he had drastically changed his personality—although under a potentially harmful alien influence, anything was possible. Colonel O’Neill was generally the first one at a briefing but this time around it wouldn’t be so. By default, that left Major Carter.

From his vantage point in his office, Hammond heard Major Carter enter the empty briefing room on level 28. He could picture her movements in his mind’s eye—her blue eyes squinting as she looked around the room in confusion, scrutinizing her watch for the time, and rechecking the room. He heard papers hit a solid surface and surmised that she had dropped her notes and pen at her usual spot at the briefing room table. Her footfalls moved toward the sideboard and Hammond vaguely realized that he remembered smelling coffee brewing and offered silent thanks to the airman with the forethought to put some coffee on for the briefing. This might turn into a long session and they might need the extra caffeine. He could picture Carter pouring herself a cup and mixing in a little cream and sugar like she usually did.

It was time to make his appearance, he thought, rising from his desk just as he heard Teal’c’s voice.

"Greetings, Samantha Carter. Where are Daniel Jackson and General Hammond?"

"I’m here, son," Hammond said walking into the briefing room from his office. His eyes narrowed when he realized Dr. Jackson was missing—again. He scowled slightly as he turned his attention to Carter. "Major Carter, where is Dr. Jackson?"

Carter walked over to the table, placing her hand on the back of her chair. "I’m not sure, sir. I left Daniel in the commissary. He was probably going to his office. He said he wanted to start his report. Should I get him?" She started to put her coffee down on the table when Hammond’s voice stopped her.

"No need, Major. I’ll have someone find him. There’s no reason for you to go traipsing off after him every time he gets lost on base." He strode over to the sideboard, picked up the phone, dialed an extension, and a familiar voice answered. "Dr. Fraiser, please stop by Dr. Jackson’s office on the way down and bring him along." At her confirmation, he hung up and went back to the table. He looked at Teal’c and Carter, standing hesitantly, waiting for him.

"Have a seat, people. Dr. Fraiser is joining us for this briefing so we’ll begin when she arrives…hopefully with Dr. Jackson."

Silence descended upon the room. Carter paged through her files, reading and re-reading what Hammond was positive she already knew by heart. Teal’c merely watched and waited.

It was an uncomfortable silence.

Usually, this was one of the more interesting teams to debrief. Experts in first contact situations, they nearly always had something exciting to report—from Dr. Jackson’s endless chatter about the discovery of ancient ruins to Carter’s barely contained excitement when she went off on one of her scientific tangents about some kind of advanced alien technology they had found. Teal’c’s rare but profound insights offered a unique counterpoint to the enthusiasm generated by the two scientists.

Colonel O’Neill, though, always managed to stay above the fray. He knew when to press for more concrete facts. He knew how to change the direction of the briefing without losing the valuable energy and passion of his two scientists. While on the other hand, he always knew when it was time to curb their enthusiasm and focus on the job at hand. He also recognized the appropriate time to let their excitement bring them to even greater discoveries. Instinctively he knew just what to do. No matter how many times Hammond saw it happen, he was always amazed by O’Neill’s leadership of such a diverse team.

General Hammond found himself drawn to this team, watching them together, working as a well-oiled machine. Many times he just observed, acutely aware of his second-in-command. O’Neill’s off-the-cuff sarcastic remarks were just his defense mechanism—finely tuned as it was—to turn even the most astute away. He was a great deal smarter than he appeared to be—much smarter than even his team realized. Even when he didn’t look like he was listening, Hammond knew O’Neill heard every word—even those unuttered. His cool expression and calm demeanor were just a front, Hammond knew. He could tell after all these years. O’Neill lived for this assignment. He loved the adventure, the excitement of discovery, and the challenges of first contact. He thrived on it. His eyes gave it away. Windows to the soul they have been called by many, and in this case, Hammond had to agree.

From the very beginning, Hammond had been fascinated with this unlikely team. Two scientists and two military men, a fierce loyalty binding them together. A strange family. Three humans and an alien, all tied together because of circumstance, but yet they fit perfectly together, melded into a single, solid unit. On some assignments Hammond knew it was only their fierce loyalty and determination that got them through.

But now, he knew just by looking at them that something was wrong, something was off. Even though they thought they were fine, in reality a huge piece was missing. And the worst thing about it was that they didn’t even know it was gone.

The entrance of Dr. Fraiser with a slightly disheveled Dr. Jackson in tow interrupted his musings, bringing him back to the present. He straightened unconsciously in his chair and motioned for Fraiser and Jackson to take their seats.

"Doctors, I’m glad you could join us." He let Jackson and Fraiser settle in at the briefing room table before he continued. Fraiser looked worried—never a good sign, especially when it came to medical matters—so he decided to start with her. "Dr. Fraiser, what do you have to report?"

"Unfortunately, sir, not much more than before." She paused, paging through the array of folders and papers spread in front of her. "According to the test results, SG1 is in perfect health. I couldn’t find any abnormalities in any of their lab results and that’s gotten me a bit worried." She glanced up, catching Hammond’s eye. "I was hoping I would be able to pin this on something specific, something tangible, whether it was an alien germ or a chemical."

Carter leaned forward on her elbows, resting her weight on the table. "So Janet, what exactly are you saying?" she asked, a perplexed expression on her face.

"I’m saying that whatever memory problems you’re having do not seem to have a physical or chemical cause—at least not that I can find." Fraiser shrugged apologetically. "I’m going to continue running some additional tests. Maybe I missed something. I wish I could tell you something more positive."

Jackson looked worried, his forehead deeply creased. He had removed his glasses during Fraiser’s explanation, rubbing the heels of his hands into his already reddened eyes. Jackson sighed deeply before speaking. "But then, the only other possibility would be that someone was messing around in our heads and I just don’t see that happening. These people were primitive but they were friendly and welcoming. They had no advanced technology. And anyway, why would they have any reason to alter our memories?"

"I don’t know, but I’d like permission to run some more tests. General, I’d like some more time to observe SG1. We haven’t tried hypnosis. Maybe that will help."

Hammond nodded sharply. "Permission granted, Doctor. Do what you need to do to get to the bottom of this. Take as much time as you require."

Carter rubbed her face wearily. Jackson stared at Hammond, his eyes full of dread and dismay. Teal’c merely raised an eyebrow. Hammond knew they had been hoping for some kind of resolution, some good news, answers of some kind—anything but what Dr. Fraiser had reported. SG1 knew they weren’t going home anytime soon.

"Anything to add, Doctor?" Hammond asked.

"No, sir." Fraiser said, shaking her head in apology.

"Then you’re dismissed. I appreciate the update." He smiled at her, thanking her for her hard work in word and deed, but the smile never reached his eyes. How could it? How could he be happy about news such as this? His premier field team was grounded for an unknown length of time because of something his chief medical officer couldn’t identify and his second-in-command was missing in action, left behind on an alien planet halfway across the universe. Ugh. You couldn’t get much worse if you tried really hard.

"Yes, sir. Thank you." She rose and quickly walked out of the room, a pensive expression on her face. Hammond could tell that her mind was already on other things even before she left the room.

Once Fraiser was gone, Hammond waited a beat before he continued. "We should probably get on with this debrief. Major, why don’t you start?"

Carter launched off on her scientific tangent, explaining the various discoveries she had already made, just in the few moments she had had this evening. Some of the rock samples they’d brought back had traces of naqahda in them but it was also mixed with some other element she hadn’t been able to identify…yet. With enough time and study, she was positive she would be able to find out what it was and exactly what it did. At a cursory glance, it seemed to provide some kind of enhancement to the naquada, at least on the surface, but she couldn’t understand why. She wasn’t even sure if it was a metal or if it was something else entirely. She was already planning some tests to figure out just what the relationship was between the two. She continued for some time, until Hammond held his hand up.

"Major, I think you’ve convinced me this planet has value, at least for mining. How about we give Dr. Jackson a little time to enlighten us about the people?"

She looked a little stunned that he had cut her off so abruptly, but acquiesced immediately. She turned to Daniel, who was already gearing up.

"General Hammond, I believe a closer examination of this culture will prove to be beneficial, not only for us, but also for them." He leaned forward on his elbows, as if the extra weight would emphasize his point. "Sir, these people fought off the Goa’uld hundreds of years ago and the Goa’uld have not returned. That should tell you something about them. I believe that they could make a valuable ally for us in the fight against the Goa’uld."

"I agree with Daniel Jackson," Teal’c said, quietly but firmly. "These people seem to be fearsome warriors, willing to fight for their freedom and their beliefs."

Jackson looked at Teal’c, surprise etched into his face at Teal’c’s outburst but his surprise quickly turned to gratification. He gestured to Teal’c. "General, with that kind of endorsement, how can you argue with us?"

"Dr. Jackson, I’m not arguing with you in the first place. This planet, as far as I can tell, might prove to be a valuable resource to us in our fight against the Goa’uld, both in its people and in its materials. I am merely concerned with the events that took place over the past two days while you were on this mission. In addition, I’m also concerned about your state of mind."

"Sir, no disrespect intended, but Dr. Fraiser can’t find anything wrong with us and we all feel fine. Why do you insist that there’s something wrong with us?" Carter asked, exasperation tinting her words.

"Because, Major," said Hammond, as he rose and pointed to the Stargate below. "I watched the four members of my very best field team walk through that Stargate a day ago and only three returned. I have a problem with that." He paused, trying to get his temper under control. He was tired and frustrated more than angry, he knew, but right now anger was all he had—that and a lot of unanswered questions.

He looked around at the tired faces surrounding the briefing room table. "Let’s adjourn this discussion now. It’s late and I know you’ve all had a rough day. We’ll reconvene this briefing two days from now. Maybe by then we’ll have something more to add. You are all confined to the base until further notice. No exceptions. Dismissed." He watched SG1 quickly gather their belongings and leave. They weren’t even talking amongst themselves, Hammond realized, and sighed softly to himself. Normally, SG1 was a very talkative group and the lack of idle banter that surfaced following the briefing worried Hammond more than he wanted to admit. That was not a good sign.

Daniel was in his lab, buried in his books, when Carter found him later that same night. The base was quiet and she was restless. Even though it was nearly 0100, she knew Daniel would still be awake. He was reliable like that. He was consistent. Gotta love consistency.

But when she stepped closer, she realized Daniel wasn’t studying. His glasses were lying next to him on the desk. His head was resting on his crossed arms and he was fast asleep, snoring softly. Carter hated waking him but she knew he would forgive her and thank her in the morning—especially when he didn’t wake up with an uncomfortable crick in his neck. She crossed the room quietly, gently shaking his shoulder and calling his name.

"Daniel…Daniel, wake up. You should be in bed."

He woke suddenly, gasping. An expression of panic and fear crossed his face quickly before recognition set in.

"Sam! Oh gosh, I’m sorry. What time is it?" He rubbed his eyes, squinting across the room, trying unsuccessfully to read the clock on the wall.

"It’s just after midnight. Did you have a bad dream or something?" she asked, concerned. Normally, Daniel wasn’t so jumpy.

"No…I don’t know," he said shaking his head. "I just had a weird feeling, but it’s passing now. Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you." He looked at her again, his forehead furrowed. "What are you doing down here anyway? It’s late."

Carter shrugged her shoulders. "I was nearly doing the same thing in my lab, but I don’t think I can sleep. For some reason, I’m restless tonight. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t go home to my own bed. So I came to see what you were doing. Teal’c was doing his kel-no-reem and I didn’t want to bother him."

"So, I was your second choice?" Jackson teased. He yawned wide, his eyes watering.

"No, silly," she said smiling and swatting his arm playfully. "You know better than that. It’s just that Teal’c’s room is on the way here. It never hurts to check." It almost felt like old times. Why she thought that just now, she didn’t know, but let it pass.

"I know," he said, smiling. "So, what were you working on before you came down here to watch me sleep?"

"I was reading some of the preliminary test results from some of the plants we brought back. The botanists have been having a field day. They think there are some interesting properties they might be able to use here—even one that might help prevent Alzheimer’s, especially the latter stages. Even this early on it looks promising."

"That sounds great, Sam. Really great." His words were encouraging, but his tone was thoughtful. He paused, studying his hands intently. "Sam, are you worried?"

"Worried?"

"Are you worried that they might be right?"

She looked him directly in the eyes, holding his gaze. "I’m deathly afraid that they might be right."

The next day and a half passed uneventfully for SG1. Jackson and Carter immersed themselves in their research: Jackson studying various texts he had found about the Celts while Carter split her time between her rock samples and studying the ribbon device. The bones themselves were being dated to give them an estimate of time—when the Gou’ald had been driven from Meath and the Ildanach.

They were interrupted several times when Dr. Fraiser requested their presence in the infirmary for more tests, drawing additional blood samples each time. By the last one, Jackson was referring to her as the Countess Dracula. She laughed with him, but knew how concerned he was. He tried to hide it, but she knew he was worried. His eyes were haunted—and this time not from the bones and inscriptions he studied.

By the time General Hammond called the next briefing, both Carter and Daniel thought they had gathered enough evidence to convince anyone—even the Joint Chiefs if need be—of the importance of continuing relations with Lord Kentigern and the people of Meath.

Daniel, though, was pushing for immediate action, which General Hammond was not fully convinced was necessary.

"But General," Jackson argued, passionate in his convictions, "this is the opportunity of a lifetime. You heard what Sam said. There’s no threat from the Goa’uld. The bones found with the ribbon device are hundreds of years old, perhaps thousands. If this civilization was able to defeat the Goa’uld that long ago and they are still free of Goa’uld control to this day, we need to discover what they know. If we wait, they may not think we are serious about exploring diplomatic relations with them."

"But Dr. Jackson, you said in your report that Lord Kentigern was having enough trouble with local disputes between neighboring villages. How do you expect him to be in any position to negotiate trade treaties with us when he can’t protect his own borders?" Hammond argued, providing a valid counterpoint.

"Counties actually, General. They seem to have taken the names of several of the ancient Celtic counties—Meath was part of the Brega Kingdom during the 9th century. It seems like Meath is at odds with Glyn Cuch which literally means frown valley." A grimace passed over Jackson’s face, but he shook it off. Taking a breath, he continued. "I don’t know why that’s so important, but anyway…compared to some of the skirmishes they’ve had over the years, this one is minor, more annoying than anything. As for Meath, although it is a few hours hike from the Stargate, it is the controlling county. The Stargate is within the borders of Meath and those borders are regularly patrolled."

"So what do you recommend, Dr. Jackson?" Hammond asked knowing exactly what the answer would be.

"I want to go back and start the diplomatic process, perhaps bringing something with us as proof of our good intentions. All they have is our word that we will return and that we are trustworthy. I’d like to do something to strengthen their trust in us. It will probably aid in negotiations further on down the road."

"What do you plan on giving them, Dr. Jackson?"

Jackson paused, frowning slightly. His hands moved nervously, twirling and playing with the pen in his hand—much like a certain missing Colonel. "See, that’s where the problem comes in. I don’t know. I can’t seem to find anything about this type of negotiation anywhere in any of the ancient textbooks I have. The Celtic people didn’t exactly leave a written record of all their day-to-day activities. They had an oral tradition and there’s not much left except what you find in myths and legends." He paused, hesitating to offer the only suggestion that came to mind. "They might appreciate the addition of a bride, but I don’t see that as something we can really provide."
Hammond was not amused. "No, Dr. Jackson. Anything else?"

Carter piped up, getting Jackson out of the so-called hot seat. "Perhaps a token of some type for the Lord and Lady? New clothing or some kind of jewelry? They are a relatively self sufficient people."

"Very well. When the time comes, we will send a diplomatic team through to set up a time to return to speak with Lord Kentigern. Dr. Jackson, if you can find something by then, you can send it through with the team." General Hammond began to rise, but Jackson’s voice stopped him mid-stand.

"When the time comes? General, we need to do this now, not later, and I think SG1 should go. We’ve been there before and we know the people. They’ll be more comfortable with us."

Hammond’s voice was firm. "Absolutely not. You are in no shape to go topside, let alone half-way across the galaxy."

"But General, sir. I have to go. At least send me along with another team. At least then there will be a friendly face. We don’t have to be long, a few hours at most. Egan said they were patrolling the area regularly now that the gate was uncovered. Please, General…it’s just something I have to do."

"Dr. Jackson, under no circumstances are you going through the Stargate. Do you understand me?" Hammond said strongly. He was frustrated and tired and letting it show in his voice.

When he got a meek nod from Jackson, he continued. "First thing tomorrow morning, I am sending SG5 through to evaluate what’s going on over there. Colonel Yearwood has his orders. His mission will be a simple recon. If possible, he will also try to locate and retrieve Colonel O’Neill. Diplomatic relations will have to wait until we can confirm what’s going on over there. We’re not about ready to open up diplomatic relations with someone who might be holding one of my officers hostage. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," said Carter, looking intently at Jackson. He got the message and kept his mouth shut.

"Very well. Once we get the reports from SG5 tomorrow, we will decide what else we need to do. Dismissed."

When 0700 rolled around the next morning, General Hammond found Jackson, Carter, and Teal’c loitering in the control room. He wasn’t surprised, but he just didn’t need them underfoot.

"SG1 what are you doing down here this morning?" he asked his tone strong, plainly stressing his displeasure at their presence.

"Just here for the show, General," Jackson said, sounding suspiciously like SG1’s missing CO. If only they realized how much they were sounding and acting like O’Neill…Hammond sighed. He knew that Jackson had an ulterior motive and, sure enough, Jackson spoke up again, after a beat or two of silence. "General, you should be sending a diplomatic team through. We should go through and contact them."

"Dr. Jackson, I thought we settled this last night." He wasn’t in the mood for Jackson’s unreserved determination this morning. Because his second in command was missing, he had a mound of paperwork on his desk and he wasn’t looking forward to it. It was amazing. No matter how much Colonel O’Neill groused about doing paperwork, he was very efficient—too efficient it seemed. Whoever knew the endless supply of paper it required to just keep the lights on and the base running. Besides, he was worried—very worried—and he didn’t want to admit it. "Under no circumstances is SG1 permitted to leave the base—either through the front door or through the gate. If you insist on continuing this conversation, I will have you in the lockup fast enough to make your head spin. Am I understood?"

"But General…"

"Yes, General, Daniel understands." Carter said, cutting him off. From the tone of her voice, Hammond was sure she had already had this conversation—or something close to it—before. Knowing Carter, she had tried to convince Dr. Jackson of the futility of arguing earlier this morning, but it hadn’t worked so she’d agreed to tag along for moral support.

"Very well." He eyed Jackson again before leaning to toggle the microphone to the on position. "SG5, are you ready to depart?"

"Yes, sir. SG5 is prepared," said Colonel Yearwood, the 6’2" sandy-haired team leader of SG5, as his team assembled in the embarkation room.

"Sergeant, dial it up," Hammond ordered.

"Aye, sir." Soon enough, the sound of the gate spinning and the chevrons locking in place filled the cavernous room. "Chevron one, engaged…chevron two, engaged…"

No matter how many times he heard the sound of the inner track of the gate spinning, Hammond knew he would never get tired of it. It was the sound of freedom, of exploration, of unending possibilities. Granted, it also was a doorway through which whoever and whatever could come through—and usually did—but the good far outweighed the bad. He was convinced of it. He looked down at Colonel Yearwood and SG5. They were good men. They’d be able to find something, He was sure of it.

"Chevron seven, locked." The wormhole whooshed out before settling back down. Its blue and white light reflected strangely off the concrete and the metal, causing bizarre light and shadows to play across everyone’s face. SG5 moved out quickly, Colonel Yearwood pausing just before entering the event horizon. He turned and offered SG1 and General Hammond a salute. "We’ll find him, sir, and we’ll bring him home."

"Thank you, Colonel." Hammond toggled the microphone off as Yearwood stepped through. A beat later, the gate shut down, leaving the control room under the harsh glare of the artificial lighting.

Hammond broke the uncomfortable silence that descended.

"Okay people, let’s get back to work."

A series of "Yes, sirs" followed him back up the stairs to his office and the mound of paperwork demanding his immediate attention.

Colonel Yearwood stepped through the gate and noticed that his team had taken up defensive positions on either side of the DHD, surveying the area, watching for any sign of life. They were a good team. Granted, they didn’t have the track record that SG1 had, but generally they also managed to stay out of trouble. It always amazed him how often he would hear stories of how SG1 had engaged the Goa’uld or managed to piss off the natives on a planet far, far away. They had a knack for things like that. He glanced around, checking the immediate vicinity of the gate. It looked clear to him. The day was bright and sunny; visibility was high, permitting an unobstructed view of the valley below.

"Major Bigelow, what’s our status?"

"Nothing in the immediate vicinity, sir," the stocky brunette said, glancing back at him. "What are your orders?"

"Let’s make our way to Meath and see what’s going on." Yearwood stepped forward and with a wave of his hand, indicated the rest of his team—Captains Duncan Stewart and James Thomson—could relax. It was a gorgeous sunny day that reminded Yearwood of early autumn in the Northeast US. Not too hot, but comfortably warm. Unfortunately, they weren’t here for the weather and the scenery. It was time to work. "So Bigelow, which way to the village?"

"According to Major Carter’s report, there should be a path that leads to the village near the ruins." He walked cautiously over the rock-filled area, careful not to trip over anything. Yearwood and the rest of the team followed closely behind. A few moments later a path—or some loose definition of a path—was seen leading off into the forest.

Bigelow turned back to him. "Colonel, this looks like the start of the path Major Carter spoke about."

Yearwood was keeping his eyes on the area around them. He thought there would be more here. Usually the communities sprang up around the gate, but here, all that was left near the gate were piles of rocks and rubble. "I thought Dr. Jackson said that there were guards patrolling the area. I have yet to see anyone."

"Maybe they’re patrolling somewhere else," Bigelow suggested without humor. Yearwood could tell that Bigelow was nervous. He couldn’t blame him, really. When SG1 lost its CO, it had come as a shock to everyone on base. And now, he thought, here we are, trying to figure out what happened. He had a bad feeling about this but he kept it to himself. Best not too worry anyone…yet.

Nearly an hour into their journey, Yearwood decided to pause for a break near a small clearing several steps from a small brook. "Let’s take five everyone, we still have a hike ahead of us." He was getting ready to settle himself down against a tree, when Bigelow spotted someone coming along the path.

"Sir, we have company," he said pointing.

Yearwood turned quickly, his eyes following along the line Bigelow indicated. He picked out faint movement farther up the path and was surprised that anyone could have seen it. "Good catch. Everyone, keep your heads about you." Yearwood stood, hefting his P90, carefully leveling it at the approaching figure. Soon enough three figures approached, dressed in long cloaks. They walked directly to where SG5 was standing as if they knew exactly where they would be.

One tall, well-built man stepped forward, bowing low and introduced himself. "Strangers, please be welcome. I am called Egan and these are my companions, Hywel and Calder." He indicated each in turn. "Have you come through the stone circle?"

"Egan, it is a pleasure to meet you. Daniel Jackson has spoken of you," Yearwood said, cautiously. He still gripped his weapon, but felt a little more comfortable meeting someone SG1 had had contact with. At least something they remembered was true.

"You are friends of Daniel Jackson? Is he among you?" Egan asked, looking around as if Daniel Jackson would appear out of thin air.

"Yes, we are friends of Dr. Jackson’s, but he is not with us today. He had other duties. We came looking for someone else." Yearwood paused, trying to figure out the best way to approach the question. He wasn’t one for subtlety, so he just dived in, feet first, so to speak. "Egan, do you remember Colonel O’Neill? He was with Daniel Jackson when they arrived a few days ago."

"Yes, of course. My Lord Kentigern spoke with him at length during our feast. Why is it you look for him here?"

Yearwood was confused. "You mean he left with the others, with Dr. Jackson and Major Carter?"

Egan paused for a moment, considering his answer. "Perhaps it would be best for you to speak with Lord Kentigern and Lady Morgana. They will be able to answer your questions. Would you care to follow us back to the village? I will send Calder on ahead to make sure we are prepared for your arrival." He gestured to Calder and, seconds later, he was off running back down the path the way he had come. "Do not worry, this path is safe and he is young. The run will do him good. My Lords, please follow us."

Without the opportunity to protest, SG5 found itself obediently following Egan to the village like lemmings. As long as there wasn’t a cliff, Yearwood thought, they should be fine.

"Egan," Yearwood started, "we cannot stay long. We are just trying to find Colonel O’Neill."

"I understand, my Lord, but I am sorry. You must speak with Lord Kentigern. I cannot help you." Egan looked distressed, while his companion kept silent and impassive.

"Very well," Yearwood said, adjusting his pack slightly on his back. It looked like they didn’t have much choice in the matter. Minutes later, the clearing was still once again, as if no one had been there.