"Teal’c, has anyone mentioned to the Jaffa that bullets hurt?" Colonel Jack O’Neill asked as he crouched down behind the outcropping he and Teal’c had found. They were still a distance away from the Stargate, but it was the most defensible location they remembered—and could find on such short notice. And to be perfectly honest, in their headlong dash back to the Stargate, they were none too picky about where they were as long as it gave them the necessary protection from the troop of Jaffa soldiers following behind.

Thankfully, Major Carter and Doctor Daniel Jackson, the other members of SG1, had been sent on ahead to secure the Stargate. So, for O’Neill and Teal’c, the job so far had become simple: kill as many Jaffa as possible before high-tailing it back to the gate.

It was business as usual as of late; the brawns of the team laying down cover fire while the brains sprinted ahead and dialed home.
This was supposed to be a peaceful mission, O’Neill groused to himself for what seemed like the twentieth time. The reports from the MALP and the UAV had indicated that it was an uninhabited planet.

So much for the reports, O’Neill snorted, aiming a careful eye around the corner, trying to judge where the enemy was.

White-hot energy from a staff weapon was all he got for his efforts.

"Perhaps we should inform them of such," Teal’c replied in answer to O’Neill’s question several beats ago, his eyebrow raised slightly and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, sure, Teal’c," O’Neill said turning to rest his back against the boulder they were hiding behind, trying to ignore the dust in his eyes that the discharge from the staff weapon had kicked up. Reaching up, O’Neill grasped his radio and depressed the button. "Daniel, what’s your status?"

"We’re almost at the gate, Jack," Daniel’s voice replied immediately, sounding tiny and tinny through Jack’s earpiece. Next to him, Teal’c stood up long enough to send several volleys over the rock face before he squatted back down taking cover.

"What’s almost, Daniel?"

"I can see the gate from where I am. Sam’s scouting a few yards ahead of me, but it looks clear. We’re just trying to be careful."

"Let me know as soon as you establish a connection."

"We will, Jack," Daniel replied, his tone slightly condescending, but O’Neill chose to ignore the obvious jibe. He and Daniel had been at it over the past several weeks it seemed, just getting on each other’s nerves.

Maybe it was a combination of a couple of things, O’Neill thought, trying not to sigh. Between the lack of downtime they’d had and one tough mission after another, things were tense. It really wasn’t anyone’s fault, per se, O’Neill realized, but everything was just rubbing him the wrong way.

And right now, the Jaffa were especially so.

"Once Daniel and Carter get the gate open we should be able to make a run for it," O’Neill said, glancing up at his companion.

Teal’c nodded his approval. "I concur. We have managed to disable many of Heru'ur’s Jaffa. There are few remaining."

"Why can’t things just go easily every now and then?" O’Neill asked, a resigned exasperation filling his voice. But before Teal’c could respond, O’Neill waved him off. "You don’t have to answer that."

Taking another deep breath, O’Neill turned slightly leaning on his left shoulder to help steady himself before pointing his P90 toward the Jaffa and letting off another round of gunfire, hitting several, but only killing two. The rest just kept on coming as if the bullets didn’t even exist.

O’Neill sighed as the energy from the staff weapons pelted the boulder. Someone had to tell those Jaffa that bullets were supposed to hurt. He just knew it wasn’t going to be him.

"Jack," Daniel said, "the gate’s clear and Sam’s dialing home now."

"Good to hear, Daniel," O’Neill said, nodding once to Teal’c who was already preparing himself for their run for the Stargate. "Once you get the all clear I want you to go on through. Teal’c and I will be along shortly."

"Jack—" Daniel started to protest, but O’Neill firmly cut him off.

"Daniel, what part of that order did you not understand?" O’Neill sighed deeply, grimacing as he tried to reign in his temper. This was not the time or the place for this conversation. "Just follow my orders, Daniel. O’Neill out."

Glancing over his shoulder, O’Neill met Teal’c’s gaze and nodded once.

Seconds later they were sprinting away from their hiding place, sending volleys of bullets and staff fire toward the few remaining Jaffa.

The path to the gate wasn’t long, but it was twisting and the Jaffa were getting better with their aims. Pausing, O’Neill turned and let off a quick volley to dissuade before continuing on, Teal’c’s long strides taking him several yards ahead.

Tree trunks and branches exploded to his left and right sending splinters of wood and bark into the air, some piercing his hands, drawing blood.

Ducking into the forest, O’Neill took cover, waiting several seconds until the first of the Jaffa ran into his sights. Bullets struck the soldiers—some bounding off, some making contact—sending one crashing to the ground while the other three dove for cover.
O’Neill made use of his diversion and ran like hell.

Rounding the last corner, he saw Teal’c had paused by the DHD prepared to fire several shots giving O’Neill the opportunity to make up some ground.

Much to his frustration, both Carter and Daniel were still on this side of the gate.

"Go!" he yelled, putting all his strength into that one word.

Carter—God-bless her heart—nodded once and grabbed Daniel’s arm, pushing him into the event horizon. She followed several beats later.

Two down, two more to go.

Panting, O’Neill gave a sharp nod to Teal’c who leapt up the few steps to the top of the Stargate platform, positioning himself to provide last minute cover fire as O’Neill ran the last few yards to the DHD.

As he approached the device, Teal’c fired several shots over O’Neill’s head. The trailing Jaffa managed to send several volleys toward Teal’c who ducked and then dove into the wormhole to avoid getting hit. That was the one problem about being up on that platform—no cover when a hostile group of Jaffa were shooting at you.

With his legs pumping and his body gasping for oxygen, O’Neill passed the DHD and was only seconds away from the wormhole when it happened.

One of those shots, did not miss.

The pain was immediate and absolute, traveling up his leg, along his nerves and right to his brain.

He was close to the wormhole, he knew, and as he fell he tried to roll, trying to dive into puddle of shimmering blue water.

His body had other plans, however.

Completing one single forward somersault, his body ground to a halt on the bottom step, his feet hitting solidly, sending a shooting pain up his legs.

Staring up at the open wormhole, he groaned and coughed, trying to make it to his feet.

It’s not far, he said.

Not far.

Not far at all.

Just a few more steps.

Three steps to the top to be exact.

Then one more into the Stargate.

Then he’d be home, and safe, and away from these crazy Jaffa that don’t know that bullets are supposed to hurt.

But God damn it, the staff weapons pack quite a punch.

Pushing up with his elbows and his hands, he tried to shove his body upward, but his trembling arms wouldn’t obey his command.

Rolling to his side, dragging his right leg behind him, he crawled instead, clawing his way.

One inch at a time.

His P90 was gone, lost somewhere between the DHD and the base of the steps.

He’d get there eventually.

One inch at a time.

He’d get there.

He knew he would.

He always did.

Even though he cut it to the very end, he always made it.

Squeaking by, a hair’s breath from the edge.

He’d get there—one inch at a time if that was what it took.

A single bullet struck inches away from his outstretched hand.

Stopping suddenly, he glanced over his shoulder, only to find himself face to face with his own weapon, the damn P90 that he’d dropped.

There were only two Jaffa left out of the twenty they’d stumbled across.

One Jaffa held his P90, a trail of blood dripping down his bare arm onto the dusty ground beneath his feet.

The other supported himself with his staff weapon, obviously having taken a shot to the leg.

O’Neill was proud. He’d hit them all—but killing these two earlier would have solved his current problem.

"Hey, guys," O’Neill said, flashing his most charming grin.

"Kree," the arm-wounded Jaffa growled, shoving the P90 closer to O’Neill’s face.

"Oh, and by the way…" O’Neill said with a fierce grin, the wound from the staff weapon throbbing with every beat of his heart. "Bullets are supposed to hurt. Just thought I’d let you know."

The blue electric jolt from a zat gun quickly wiped the smile off of his face.

TBC