Author's webpage: http://trickster.org/radiofree

Author's disclaimer: None

Author's notes: None

Test file

Test
Test

Testing.
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Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here."of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here." Rock and sand and howling, razor-edged wind. Not like Abydos. A different flavor of desert. No dunes here, no mountains, nothing. Sand and tempest. The goggles that protected his eyes from the grit lacerating his face layered a faint brown haze over everything. Every part of him that could be covered was covered, and he thought of Abydos again, the people, their robes always wrapped around them even in the deadliest heat, even when the planet baked beneath them and the sky blazed overhead.

The radio receiver in his ear crackled with static, but no chatter, not from this team, not yet. They were good. He didn't have to say a word; they fanned out from the gate and did the things they'd come to do. They gathered data, and when things became interesting, when they knew things, that was when they'd speak up. They weren't silent by nature, not even Teal'c, but this place.

This angry, bitter place.

It was designated P4X-89J, but the initial survey team had come back two hours after insertion. They'd been scheduled for twelve hours. They came back scoured -- they could know the temperature and the wind speed but there was no preparation for the reality of it, not without firsthand experience. They came back looking sunburned, red and raw and sandblasted, and they'd named good old P4X-89J. They'd named it Breakheart.

"There's nothing here."f;l