Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

It is not an uncommon occurrence for us to be incarcerated. I do not know if this is good or not. Given that we are usually detained at the behest of a goa'uld and that we have an uncanny ability of gaining our freedom, it is usually not as onerous as it sounds.

One complaint I often hear from my companions is that they suffer from boredom during incarceration. O'Neill does not tolerate physical inactivity well and I have often observed him 'fiddling', as Major Carter says. I have known men like him before, men that do not desire stillness, rather action.

Major Carter, Daniel Jackson and Jonas Quinn all possess curious minds. They are at their best when they can occupy those minds, absorbing knowledge as a sponge absorbs water.

I must confess, I also find incarceration boring. Often there is little to contemplate other than one's discomfort, impending torture, and nothing to look at but cell walls and bars.

How I wish that were the case this time.

The cells under Nirti's palace are not the vilest I have been in. They are well lit and open, nothing like some of the offensive, dank places I have been in my life. We are all kept within sight of each other, something that reassures and worries me at the same time. For I know this was not meant to comfort us, but for the entertainment value.

Often in the past, we have been separated, kept out of sight and hearing of each other, with nothing but our imaginations to fill in the voids in our knowledge. Nothing but worry about the torture our friends are experiencing to entertain us.

I find it doubtful that Nirti has any type of torture in mind for us. At least not the usual kind of torture. Instead she has devised something far more insidious.

This time I will not face the boredom of contemplating unchanging cell walls, I shall be granted a front row seat at my friends' deaths. It is doubtful that her machine shall work on me and I know, once my friends are dead, I shall be sold to the highest bidder, traded to another system lord to elevate Nirti's position.

Nirti chose to experiment on Major Carter first, not only because the two women have bad blood between them, but also because she is no doubt aware that watching our friend die will be more painful than dying ourselves.

We have watched her fade over the last few hours, and now that O'Neill has been taken, I fear I shall stand lone witness to my friend's death.

Jonas Quinn has been returned to his cell just prior to O'Neill being taken. He does not seem as effected as Major Carter or Colonel Evanov, yet I can tell that he is not well.

Major Carter stirs and I find my eyes drawn to her. I have made the occasional verbal entreaty into her health, however I have received no response. She lies on the cot, her eyes closed. I watch her chest rise and fall, her breathing becoming shallower and more rapid. It catches occasionally and her face contorts as wave after wave of pain wash over her.

I watch her hand fumble at her neck and I wonder if she can not breathe. She tugs at the chain around her neck and I watch her slowly pull it from under her shirt. Her eyes remain closed and I sense that this act is requiring all her concentration.

Finally the chain is free and she pauses for a moment. She feels for and finds the clasp, opening it with one hand. I watch her drag the broken chain from around her neck, her hand falling over the edge of the cot. Her fingers clench for a second, then relax, the small metal tags falling to the stone floor with a slight tinging sound.

I recognize the significance of her act and my heart breaks. She knows there will be no body to take back to the SGC. She has surrendered to her fate and accepted her death.

Reading the numbers on the time telling device, I gain my feet, quietly making my way over to the two small tents nestled against a large rock face. It was dark and quiet, the only sounds on this alien planet the crackle of the fire and the noises of insects. "Captain Carter?" I say, knocking against the front of her tent.

"Huh?"

"Captain Carter, it is time for your watch," I say, trying to keep my voice soft enough not to wake the other two members of the team.

"Yeah. Be out in a minute."

I leave her tent and walk back to the fire, reaching for a cup and pouring her some of the beverage the Tau'ri use as a stimulant. In a couple of moments, she exits her tent, joining me at the fire.

"Thank you," she says, accepting the beverage. She takes a sip then frowns, digging at the neck of her shirt. "Stupid things are going to choke me some day," she complains, pulling the chain and its dangling contents from under her shirt. I have noticed this odd item worn by her, O'Neill and the other members of the base.

At first I had thought it was something worn by members of the SGC, however I have noticed that some do not have them.

I have wondered about this, yet there has never been an appropriate time to broach such a trivial subject. Until now. "Captain Carter? May I make an inquiry?"

"What? Sure."

"I have noticed that some members of the SGC wear items around their necks, however not everyone does. I was curious as to their purpose."

"You mean these?" She held up the necklace. He nodded. "They're called dog tags. They're identification. It tells people who I am, my social security number, my religion, my blood type." She pulls the chain from around her neck and holds it out to me.

"This is information that can be gained quite easily by simply asking you," I say, accepting the chain.

"True. But there are times when I may not be able to answer their questions. Say I was unconscious. People will know who I am."

"Both of these are identical."

"Yeah. You wear two. If something happens and I'm killed, the people that find me will take one and they'll leave one with the corpse so I can be identified later." She takes the necklace from me, snapping the catch on the shorter chain. "So, if something happens to one of us, you take the tag on the short chain and leave the other one with the body," she instructs.

"And if there is no body?" I ask as I take the tag from her, running my fingers over its smooth surface. The piece of metal is ringed with a rubber band, presumably for the comfort of the wearer as well to muffle the noise of the metal tags impacting with each other.

She shrugs. "Then all you can do is report back," she says as I hand it back to her. She reassembles her necklace, slipping it back around her neck. She tucks it under her shirt, and picks up her mug of coffee.

"Teal'c?"

Jonas' voice pulls me from my memories. He is sitting up now, his attention riveted on Major Carter. "I am aware," I tell him. His distress is clear on his face as we listen to the gasping final breaths of our friend.

"Help us," he said, getting to his feet and making his way to the bars. "She didn't do anything to hurt you, you can't let her die," he implores the people.

I make no such outcry. These people are too beaten, too subservient to risk the wrath of Nirti. Instead I fix my eyes upon my teammate, steeling myself to witnessing the death of yet another friend. And I know I shall witness the death of SG-1 as well, for I fear the team will not survive another blow.

There is a disturbance and I see O'Neill hurrying into the room, Egar following closely behind. He spares no time for conversation, instead making his way into Major Carter's cell, picking her up and leaving the dungeon as quickly as he can burdened by another human being.

Jonas follows him but I do not. Instead I make my way into Major Carter's cell, bending down to retrieve the discarded tags. I carefully pick them up, pledging to keep them safe, hoping that I can return them to their owner.

<><><><><>

I walk into the infirmary, taking a moment to acknowledge the presence of the night nurse. I make my way to the far bed, knowing that Doctor Fraiser is aware of Major Carter's preferences.

She is asleep in one of the beds, curled up under the blankets. Doctor Fraiser has informed us that she believes Wodon did repair the damage, however she can not know for sure for several days.

Until then, the only treatment she can prescribe is for Major Carter to rest. Unlike the last time, she is sleeping peacefully, her breathing deep and even. There is no sign of the pain or fear that had marred her features on the planet.

Loath to disturb her healing slumber, I bend over, gently opening one of her hands. I lay the tags upon her palm, closing her fingers over the small items. Aware that she is often cold, I take moment to pull the blanket up. Satisfied that all is well, I leave the room, grateful that the outcome had not been different.

I return to my room, knowing that I must kelnoreem. For I know something else about my teammates. Prisons are not the only places where they experience boredom. And I shall do what I can to keep her entertained.

~Fin~

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