Enstranged, Infectious and Very Worrisome

[FictionInfect]

This is my first-ever complete piece of fan fic, and so may be... execrably bad. Be warned.

 

All feedback welcome. Thank you.

 

EDIT: As per the rules, here is the standard disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations owned by the original author/writers, publishers and distributors. No copyright infringement is intended or to be infered.

That much for reading the rules first. Doh.

 

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KAWHOOSH!

The unstable vortex flowed out like a tidal wave, then suddenly reversed and flowed back into the gate as quickly as it had appeared, leaving a shimmering membrane of opaque, blue water.

"Unscheduled off-world activation!" The voice cut through the entirety of StarGate Command, with just a hint of static. Wasting no time, the sergeant Davis' hand was on the iris control panel before the first word was complete. The dull metallic plates fanned into the gate's center, and the dull flickering of blue light against the silo's back wall was suddenly the only sign it was active.

"Receiving an IDC. It's..."

He turned to the figure in uniform standing beside his chair, surprise audible in his voice.

"Sir, it's SG-1!"

General Hammond was just as surprised as the sergeant, but was margianally better at hiding it.

"SG-1? We haven't heard from them in over a week."

The command's pride, SG-1, had failed to report during a scheduled check-in on a routine recon expedition to planet P3X-985, a planet with a native population reported to be quite friendly, undiscovered by the Goa'uld, and - most importantly - willing to part with some of their copious naqahdah reserves quite cheaply. When they were over 6 hours overdue, the gate had been activated, and a MALP dispatched, all transmissions from the previous one having ceased. What they got back was brief, but spectacular, telemetry of the robotic probe flying in a rather haphazard fashion mere feet off the ground, before it apparently had an unpleasant encounter with a hillside. The cause, upon further study of the 6.43 seconds of intelligible footage, was determined to be an extreme of nature - a hurricane far more powerful than any encountered on Earth - or, for that matter, on most inhabited worlds humanity had explored so far in its still-brief, but eventful, foray into the galaxy.

Now, the darker-tan-than-usual desert-gear clad form of colonel Jack O'Neill came stalking down the ramp - dripping a trail of water nearly, but not quite, rivaling that of your average mountain stream - which, combined with the unusual silence of major Samantha Carter and doctor Daniel Jackson - both in equally aquiferous clothing - and the not-so-unusual silence of Teal'c, led to an impression of a generally dissatisfied team. That impression was corroborated by O'Neill's immediate comment upon being asked to report by the general.

"8 days. Eight... friggin'... days."

Replying to the general's quizzical expression, he elaborated, "That damnable hole in the ground, which Daniel called a "cave", may have kept the wind out, but lemme tell ya - the rain didn't seem to mind."

Breaking his silence, Teal'c verified the colonel's appraisal with a simple "Indeed."

"Sir," Carter interjected, "Permission to take a shower and change into some dry clothes."

"That would be nice," Daniel conceded.

"All right. SG-1, get changed and get some rest. You debrief at 09:30 hours."

 

 

Exiting the briefing room, Daniel turned to Carter.

"I think I'll turn in for the night. It's been a long week."

"Yeah, I think we all are a little worse for wear. In fact, I think I'll do the same Good night, Daniel."

Daniel smiled a tired little smile.

"Good night, Sam."

 

"Colonel O'Neill to the infirmary," blared the comm system for the third time as he stepped in.

"What the hell is this?"

"Sorry to wake you, colonel," said doctor Janet Fraiser. "It's Daniel."

"What happened?" Sam shot in, having come running into the room during the last part.

"He arrived here approximately an hour ago complaining of a headache, wanting a mild sedative to allow him to rest. As he answered my questions, he starting having convulsions, followed by nausea, diarrhea and regurgitation, all within an alarmingly short period of time."

"Let me guess," said Jack. "Quarantine?"

"Of you, here in the infirmary, and anybody else you've been in contact with for the last eleven hours in their quarters."

"I'll handle that," stated Hammond, who had come trooping up with Teal'c just before.

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c. "This reminds me of an episode Bra'tac relayed to me during our last encounter. A camp of Jaffa heeding to Imhotep began displaying similar symptoms some months ago." He paused, and tilted his head slightly. "They were destroyed."

"Great," interjected O'Neill, "just what we need - an alien killer-disease."

"It's done," Hammond said.

"I just hope we weren't too late," added Fraiser. "I'll send med-teams in haz-mat to look in on our potential infectees periodically. With any luck this will die down quietly, with minimum casualties."

 

"...and we have taken the multi-purpose rooms on level 26 in use as make-shift wards. No casualties, so far."

"Very good, doctor," replied the general. "Keep me posted."

"Yes, sir," answered Fraiser, and hurried off to a newly arriving patient.

 

"Orthomyxoviridae beta - a human-specific RNA virus which evolves swiftly, and thus can often reinfect a host after a certain period of time." Doctor Fraiser turned away from the image projected on the wall-mounted screen. "We have identified our culprit, and although it has mutated, we are fairly certain that the similarities aren't just random. This disease came from Earth. Based on the level of mutation, I'd say we must have seeded it during some excursion about a year ago."

"Doctor Fraiser, if this disease is from Earth - can we cure it?" general Hammond inquired.

"Well, not quite," she replied, "We can certainly use anti-viral agents, but I'd say that would be unnecessary."

"How so?"

"The strain has mutated enough that we have lessened resistance against it, so it is more virulent, but all personnel stationed at this facility are in relatively good health. As long as we keep the current level of quarantine and ensure the virus doesn't escape into the general population, it should just blow over and all infected make a full recovery."

"Doctor, if you don't mind - could you put that in layman's terms?" O'Neill wondered.

"Of course. What we've got on our hands is a bad case of the influenza."

Edited April 15, 2008 by FictionInfect