The Colour of Pain

Not all missions go as planned and not everyone comes back alive and well…

No spoilers, set at some anonymous point in the future, paragraphs in italics are thoughts.

Disclaimer – Stargate and its characters aren't mine, no matter how much I love them.


"Sir! It's SG's 1 and 5!"

"Open the iris!"


Down in the Gate room, the iris slid smoothly open. Immediately, dirt came flying through. Not just little bits, but large chunks too, as though someone was standing on the other side, throwing clumps of earth through the Stargate. But nobody ever did that. The dirt was flying through with explosive force. Explosive, being the operative word. The soldiers in the Gate room knew this, and tightened their grips on their weapons.


It was nearly pitch black and it didn't help that the air was thick with smoke and flying debris. No-one was quite sure exactly where the other members of the team were but the Stargate was open, the rearguard were almost there and they were nearly home. Nearly safe.




That's not right! Pain should be red! Red for danger. Red for blood. Or black. Black would be good. Black would – should - be unconscious. Unconscious would be good. Unconscious wouldn't be WHITE. Wouldn't be PAIN. Oh! The WHITE's going BLACK around the edges…


Screaming. Explosions. Rushing noises, watery sounding. A loud drum beat. A metallic taste. What?



There was the characteristic *whuup* noise as soldiers in camouflage gear ran, or fell, through the silvery Stargate.



A pause.




Another pause.



"CLOSE THE IRIS!" commanded the final man.

"MEDIC! MEDIC!" screamed the man in front of him.

As it whooshed closed, everyone heard the thumps. Bodies, bouncing off the back of the iris?

General Hammond barely had time to feel any grief at the loss of the eighth soldier, who hadn't made it back with the others, when he saw the sixth man, still yelling for a medic, was carrying him. Momentary relief made way for the sickening realisation that whoever it was still might not make it. They were put on a stretcher. There was a lot of blood, and legs were not supposed lie at that sort of angle.

"What the Hell happened, Colonel? Colonel O'Neill? Report!"

End of chapter 1.


Please review! This is only my 2nd fic and I could really use feedback, in particular, on the style I'm using, as I've never written like this before. Also, I've just had to reformat from a .txt file so if you spot any obvious stuff I've overlooked, say so please J