Chapter Text
The First Loss
The air crackled with the energy of Teal'c's staff weapon. Daniel's heart was pounding, his lungs burning for lack of oxygen as he raced to the DHD. He dialled the Earth address as quickly as he could, pushing the red disk too hard in his haste. He glanced back over his shoulder. The death gliders were almost at the gate, and the rest of the team were still too far away. The few seconds it took for the wormhole to establish crawled by. This was their last chance to escape.
A death glider fired and Daniel threw himself to the ground, using the DHD as cover. The blast filled the air around the stargate with sand and dust. Daniel landed heavily. Ignoring the pain shooting down his leg he reached for his GDO. Glancing up, Daniel saw Teal'c already keying in the GDO code before raising his staff weapon again. Their eyes met briefly. It was enough.
"Daniel!" Sam shouted as she and Jacob reached them. Jacob hung on to his daughter's shoulders; his wound made it hard for him to walk and Daniel was amazed Sam had kept up with them so well.
"I'm all right. Go!" he told her.
Sam didn't argue. She was supporting her father with an arm around his waist, leaving her unable to aim or fire her gun, so she couldn't help Teal'c and Daniel cover the gate. She half-carried Jacob to the event horizon. Teal'c fired again and again, covering their escape.
Daniel looked for Jack. He was moving too slowly, weighed down by the crate he carried and the old man at his side. "Come on, Jack," Daniel muttered impatiently. If they didn't move faster they were both going to be killed. The second death glider flew low, straight at them. "Jack!" Daniel yelled: a pointless warning.
Jack dropped the crate and turned, his gun in his hands. He fired up at the glider. Teal'c's fire joined Jack's and the glider zoomed upwards, evading the dual attack. The old man stumbled and fell. The glider turned for another pass, firing into the dust-filled valley. The blast hit very close to the fleeing men, and for a moment, flying debris obscured Daniel's view.
"Teal'c, can you cover me?" he asked, shouting over the noise. He waited for the Jaffa's silent acknowledgement before running to Jack's aid.
"Daniel, what are you doing?" Jack asked, his eyes still scanning the sky.
Daniel didn't answer. He had seen what Jack hadn't — yet. He knelt beside the old man, turning his body over. The old man was alive, but he was bleeding from two deep wounds in his thigh and abdomen. Shrapnel was still embedded in his thigh. Daniel saw no head wound, but he appeared to be unconscious. Daniel lifted the old man awkwardly. He needed a medic, which meant the SGC, and Doctor Fraiser. Daniel couldn't risk a fireman's carry; he had to lift the man in his arms like a child. He was heavy. Daniel hurried back to the stargate with Jack at his side, the precious crate abandoned behind them.
They reached the gate and Jack shouted, "Go!" to Teal'c. Teal'c obeyed, vanishing through the event horizon. Daniel and Jack ran toward the gate. They were together all the way, Jack holding back because Daniel was slowed down by the old man's weight in his arms. At the last moment before they stepped through the gate, Daniel stumbled and saw Jack, a split second ahead of him, go through the stargate alone.
He hefted the old man's body again. With the last of his strength, he stumbled forward. An instant before Daniel reached the safety of the event horizon the world exploded around him and his body was engulfed by pain.
Colonel O'Neill shivered with the familiar cold of stargate travel as he stepped out onto the ramp. He turned to speak to Daniel. There was only empty air where Daniel should have been. His heart beating faster he stared at the shimmering event horizon. The seconds ticked by and no one appeared.
A cloud of debris exploded through the gate. Jack ducked instinctively, throwing up an arm to protect his face from the flying rocks. The event horizon flickered wildly.
Behind him, someone shouted, "Close the iris!"
"Negative!" Jack yelled back. "Daniel's still out there!"
Even as Jack spoke, Daniel fell onto the ramp, still carrying Cleis in his arms.
"Now! Lock it up!" Jack rushed to Daniel's side. "I need a medic here now!" Daniel was unconscious, his clothing blackened and still smoking. The most frightening thing was the smell, like burned meat. Jack barely even noticed Cleis' body beneath Daniel's.
A medic was already on the ramp. He felt for a pulse at Daniel's neck. "He's alive, Colonel. Stand back and let us work." Without waiting for a response, he called over his shoulder. "I need a spinal board before we can move him."
Reluctantly, Jack backed off. He saw Teal'c and Hammond at the base of the ramp, watching him. He took a breath, steadying his nerves. As always, the job came first. He walked down the ramp.
"Report, Colonel."
"We got everyone out, sir. Cleis and Daniel were the last. Cleis was desperate to save some project of his. We managed to pack it all up, but I had to abandon it when we came under fire on the way to the stargate." Jack looked again at the two blood-soaked bodies on the ramp. "Whatever it was, it wasn't worth this."
The bodies were being lifted onto two gurneys.
General Hammond nodded, watching the medics work. "Report to the infirmary, Colonel. We'll debrief tomorrow."
Four Hours Later
Janet stripped off the blood-saturated surgical gloves. She washed her hands quickly, then lifted a cloth and wiped the sweat from her brow. She felt more tired than she had ever been.
The other members of SG-1 would be waiting for her. Wearily, she headed out of the operating room to where they were waiting. In the confines of Janet's small office, the tension of the team was palpable. Teal'c stood in a corner, his expression grim. Sam sat next to him, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes open, staring at nothing. The colonel was pacing back and forth: he looked like a caged tiger.
"Colonel O'Neill," Janet said softly.
He quit pacing instantly and looked at her. "Doc." The word was curt.
More gently than the colonel, Sam asked, "How is he?"
"Not good," she answered honestly, speaking to Sam. Then she looked up at the colonel. "Daniel suffered second and third degree burns over almost a third of his body. He has some severe lacerations and internal bleeding and he's lost a great deal of blood."
"Will he be all right?" O'Neill interrupted, his dark eyes intense.
Janet returned his look steadily. "Colonel, I wish I could give you a simple answer. I've done everything I can for him. With burns the biggest danger is infection, so I’m keeping him isolated in a sterile room. But the burns are not Daniel’s only problem. I think I’ve got him stable.” She hesitated, meeting the colonel’s stricken eyes. She didn’t want to reveal the worst, not when O’Neill was exhausted himself, but he was both Daniel’s CO and his family, in spirit if not in fact. He was also Daniel’s medical proxy since Daniel had no family. Janet had to tell him everything. She concentrated on keeping her voice even and professional. “If Daniel lives through the night, there is a chance he'll make a full recovery, but only a chance. He will need more skilled help than I can give him here at the SGC." She saw pain and resignation in O'Neill's eyes. Teal'c's expression hardly changed at all.
Sam closed her eyes, the knuckles of her clasped hands turning white. "How bad is it, Janet?"
Janet hesitated. Sam looked stressed out and exhausted, and the colonel was at the end of his endurance. She couldn't burden them with more. Not now. "I'll be able to tell you more in the morning," she stalled. "I want you all to go home and rest."
"I will remain," Teal'c said, the first words he had spoken.
Janet shook her head. "Teal'c, I understand your desire to stay close, but there's nothing you can do here. Please, get some rest. Even you need to kel'no'reem."
"No." O'Neill said flatly. "You can't make me leave when Daniel could be dying!"
Most people on the base would have fled from the colonel using that tone. Janet fought her urge to take a step back and met his eyes steadily. "I will make that an order if I have to, Colonel. Listen to me. You are exhausted, and what Daniel needs now is rest and peace, not you pacing at his bedside. I know you mean well, but hanging around here will not help either of you. Daniel's condition is being constantly monitored. If it looks like you should be here, I promise you'll know, Colonel. Now get out and let me do my job."
She saw O'Neill's jaw set in stubborn lines. "I won't—" he began.
Sam stood, reaching out to touch his arm. "Colonel. She's right. There's nothing we can do here."
As the colonel locked eyes with Sam, Janet thought she would have a real battle on her hands. To her relief, after a tense moment, O'Neill nodded.
"Doc, if there's any change, you page me. Anything at all. Understand?"
"Understood, Colonel," Janet said resignedly. Did the man think she didn't sleep or something?
O'Neill and Teal'c left the room then, but Sam held back.
"What is it, Major?"
"Are you okay?"
Janet sank down into a chair. "I'm tired, that's all. Three hours in the OR with Daniel...this kind of surgery isn't my strongest suit, but there was no one else available. I still have patients to take care of." She sighed. "I'll be fine, Sam. Thank you."
"I'd like to stay with my Dad, if that's okay?" Sam suggested.
Janet wondered if the request was more about Daniel than about Sam's father, but ultimately it didn't matter. Sam needed sleep as badly as Colonel O'Neill, and she wouldn't get it in the infirmary. She shook her head firmly. "Sam, your father will be fine. His injury was more painful than dangerous. Selmak will have him back to normal by morning. I think you know that." She looked at her friend sharply. "Is this about Daniel?"
Clearly reluctant, Sam nodded. "I need to know he'll be okay."
"Sam. According to the report, SG-1 just spent sixty hours under fire. Go home. Sleep. That's an order. If I hear you've come onto the base before eight in the morning I will relieve you of duty."
Sam stared at her a moment longer, then answered, "Yes, ma'am." She left Janet alone in the room.
Janet watched her go, then leaned forward, crossed her arms on the desk and laid her head down. Just a few minutes rest... What did Sam - and the rest of them for that matter - expect of her? A nice, reassuring lie? Yes, Sam, he'll be fine. Right as rain within a week. Just like the Easter Bunny. Daniel's body was a mess, so much so Janet didn't know for sure he would live through the night. If he survived, he might come to wish he had died. Daniel would have a long, hard road to recovery ahead of him.
What did they all want from her? A miracle?
Morning, 0534
Janet drained the coffee cup to the dregs. It was her second of the day. She had slept: a few, too-short hours in a bunk somewhere, but her sleep was plagued with dreams, unrestful. She eventually rose and headed back to the infirmary to check on her patients.
Daniel seemed stable at last. His vital signs were good. Transfusions and a saline drip had done their work. He remained under sedation, lying face-down with the terrible burns only lightly bandaged. When he woke up he was going to be in agony. She updated his chart and adjusted the sedation.
Jacob Carter was sleeping normally, with no visible sign of his injury remaining. Janet wasn't concerned about him. If only all her patients healed as easily as the Tok'Ra.
Her third patient from the evacuation was the old man Daniel had saved: Cleis. Cleis looked about sixty in human terms, but she couldn't guess his true age. I could be than three times that. Janet hadn't been sure that his symbiot would be able to heal him: his injuries had been serious and his body showed signs of old age. Janet guessed he was nearing the end of his life even with the symbiot's ability to sustain him. For the present, though, Cleis seemed to be pulling through.
When she checked the monitors at his bedside she had seen him stir in his sleep. She waited there for a few moments. His eyes opened.
"Hello," Janet said gently. "I'm Doctor Janet Fraiser. You're at Stargate Command, on Earth."
"I am Entar," he answered, his voice overlaid with the deeper tones of the symbiot.
"How do you feel?" she asked him.
A faint smile touched his lips. "Tired. Ill. My host's injury was grave."
“Is there anything you need? Medically speaking, I mean.”
“You bound the wounds, that is sufficient. Some water would be helpful, when you have time.”
Janet fetched a glass of water and helped him to drink, then placed the glass where he could reach it easily. “I'll leave you to rest. If there's anything more you need..." she gestured toward the open office door, "...I'll be nearby."
"You have my thanks," Entar answered.
Janet found herself some coffee and sat down to write up her report. When she was done, she stood, intending to check on Daniel again.
"How is he, Doc?"
Colonel O'Neill. One look at his face and Janet knew he wouldn't allow her to put him off again. Daniel was his friend, and a member of O'Neill's team: he would hold himself responsible for this even though he couldn't possibly have prevented it.
"This way, Colonel," she said. Leading him to Daniel's bed, she reported, as professionally as she could, his condition. "Daniel's going to live, Colonel. He woke during the night, briefly, but I placed him under sedation. I doubt he could stand the pain if he were conscious."
"How bad is it?"
"Third degree burns to about twenty percent of his body. Extensive second-degree burns. All of the burns are on one side of his body: his back. He is also suffering from severe shock and blood loss from internal injuries. Together with the burns, that's very bad; he was dangerously dehydrated. There is significant muscle damage and fractures to his L2 and L3… In layman’s terms, Colonel, his back is broken. I won't know how bad that is until a neurologist has examined him..."
"Oh, my god." It was just a whisper.
"…but the good news is he isn’t paralysed: his neural reflexes are still present, and we have him immobilised. He's going to need skin grafts for those burns, which means more surgery, soon. And I'm afraid that's just the beginning."
They reached the sterile zone. Clear plastic sheeting separated them from the bed. Daniel lay face down on the bed, monitors surrounding him, wires and tubes linking his body to a multitude of machines.
Janet glanced at the monitors with a professional eye: he was stable. "Colonel, do you have any idea how this happened? It might help me to know."
O'Neill shook his head, his eyes on Daniel's still body. "I was through the gate ahead of him. Uh...Daniel was right behind me. We were under fire...he must have caught the edge of a blast from one of those death gliders. That's the only thing that makes sense. He was right next to me, Doc!”
"If he was hit by a death glider, he's lucky to be alive," Janet commented.
O'Neill pulled over a chair and sat down just outside the plastic barrier. "Do you call this lucky?"
Next Day
"How are you feeling?" Jack asked. He sounded awkward to Daniel.
"Dumb question," Daniel told him. His voice was hoarse and muffled by the pillow. He felt the same: terrible. He found he was able to smile, just a little, for his friend. "It hurts, Jack. God, it hurts."
"They...um...they're going to move you to a real hospital. Better facilities out there."
"Janet told me."
"Daniel, before you go...there's someone else who wants to visit with you." Jack stepped back to reveal the old man waiting behind him.
He looked very different from the last time Daniel had seen him. Cleis was old, but his eyes shone with vitality. He wore a beard, and his grey hair was long, worn loose down his back. He moved past Jack to sit in the chair. "We haven't formally met," he said, and his voice was a warm, rich baritone. "I'm Cleis."
What else was there to say? "I'm Daniel."
"I owe you my life, Daniel. Thank you seems inadequate."
"Thanks." Daniel looked at him, remembering those last moments... "You were badly hurt..."
"I am Tok'Ra. My symbiot is able to heal me." Cleis glanced at Jack. "I owe you thanks, too, Colonel. I wish we could have saved my data, but I know you tried."
Tok'Ra. Of course he was. Daniel felt he should have realised that earlier. They had spent a few days on that base, but Daniel hadn't seen much of Cleis until the end. The Tok'Ra outpost at Talashim was unusual because a lot of the people living there were human: people the Tok'Ra had rescued from Goa'uld masters, or whose homes had been destroyed by the Goa'uld. There were not many: the Tok'Ra didn't make a practice of helping refugees, but there were enough that Daniel had assumed Cleis was one of them when he didn’t flee with the other Tok’Ra.
Daniel remembered the crate they had all nearly died to save. "What was so important?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Cleis closed his eyes briefly. "My life's work. I doubt you will consider it as important as I do."
"I'd like to know." Daniel saw Jack glance at Cleis impatiently. Jack could be so transparent sometimes: I doubt you will consider it important wasn't the smartest thing for Cleis to have said.
Cleis nodded. "Not all of the Tok'Ra are what you would call warriors. I am a historian. The data we have lost... It's irreplaceable. The history of the Goa'uld, and the Tok'Ra, our battles. Our allies, strategies...everything. Much of the information is known to others, of course, but the record..." Cleis shook his head slowly. "Well. It serves no one to mourn the loss now." The grief he felt was clear.
"I understand," Daniel said. He remembered what it was like to lose a lifetime of research; though in his case it had been his own fault, not a Goa'uld attack. "Jack..." he began.
"Daniel, don't," Jack interrupted. "The whole planet is crawling with Jaffa by now."
"Are you sure? It was an uninhabited world, Jack, except for the Tok'Ra station. Their mission was more likely to be destruction, than occupation."
"What's the point? Whatever was in that crate was destroyed, and you can bet there's nothing left of the base."
Jack was probably right, Daniel knew. But his empathy for Cleis' loss made him push harder. They could at least try to retrieve it. He looked at Cleis again. "Cleis, if we were able to recover your files, would you be willing to share that information with us?"
Cleis nodded at once. "Of course."
"Jack..." Daniel's voice was starting to fade. He tried to clear his throat and started again. "Jack, you heard what he said. That data could be important to us. The more we know about the Goa'uld..."
Jack sighed. "You must be feeling better," he said, with a patient, long-suffering look. "I'll talk to the general. I guess it won't hurt to send a MALP."
Daniel smiled. "Thanks, Jack."
"Colonel." It was Janet's soft voice. "It's time."
The Second Loss — Two Weeks Later
Jack was on his way to the exit when it happened.
He had finished work for the day: with SG-1 still on stand down his work was fairly routine. He was leaving a little early because he planned to visit Daniel before going home. Two days after the disastrous evacuation, Daniel was transferred to the nearby military hospital. There was a full burns unit in the hospital: he really was better off out there. Just the same, Jack would have preferred to have him in the SGC infirmary, where he could visit anytime.
Jack heard the klaxon blaring, signalling an off-world stargate activation and checked his watch. SG-2 were due back...this would be an hour or so early, but that wasn't so unusual. There was no reason for him to respond to the alarm. Jack stepped into the elevator and determinedly pushed the button for up.
It saved his life.
Jack knocked gently on the open door to Daniel's room. "Is it safe to come in?" he asked. The last time he visited, Daniel had been in a crappy mood and ended up telling Jack to get out.
Daniel looked up with a smile. "I think so," he said. He was sitting up in bed today. He looked happier than he had been.
"How are you doing?"
"The same. It still hurts like hell, but I think I'm getting used to it."
Jack sat down, letting himself relax a little. Whether Daniel's cheer was real or came from the drugs the effect was the same. It was good to see Daniel recovering.
"I talked with the neurologist today," Daniel added.
"And?"
"He said they should be able to repair the worst of the damage to my back. Enough that I'll be able to walk again, anyway."
So that was the reason he was all smiles. The news made Jack's heart much lighter, too. "That's great news, Daniel!"
"Yes, it is. It's going to take a long time, though." There was an open book lying on the bed beside Daniel; he closed it and placed it on the table beside him. "Did you find someone to take my place on SG-1 yet?"
Take your place? Daniel Jackson, no one is ever going to take your place. Jack kept his thoughts to himself. "Uh...sort of. With all the new recruits we're bringing in, I decided to use the vacancy to train some of them. That way your spot will still be open when you're ready to come back."
He expected Daniel to be pleased, but Daniel looked unhappy to hear that.
Daniel avoided Jack's eyes. "I appreciate the thought, Jack. But you have to accept that it's not going to happen."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about my future. My back is broken, Jack. I don't know if I'll ever walk again, and even if I can, there's almost no chance I'll be fit enough for active duty."
"Don't talk like that, Daniel. You're a fighter. You'll pull through." It sounded to Jack like Daniel was giving up, without even trying. "We've been through worse than this."
Daniel nodded. "You're right. We've been through worse. This time...Jack, I think I've used up my luck. I took a direct hit from a Goa'uld death glider. I almost died. Again."
Jack took a deep breath. "What are you saying, Daniel? You want to leave the SGC?"
Daniel shook his head. "I hope not. Just SG-1." His voice dropped to a whisper as he added, "Sha're is dead. Skaara is home safe. There's no reason for me to be out there now, and after this...I really thought you would understand, Jack."
"I don't. Daniel, you-"
"Colonel O'Neill." The nurse's interruption cut off whatever Jack had been about to say.
Jack looked up impatiently. "Yes."
"There's an urgent call for you from Cheyenne Mountain."
It would have been nice, Jack thought later, to have had some idea what was about to happen. Like in the movies when the hero somehow just knows the news is bad. Not normally given to such fancies, Jack nevertheless felt there should have been a chill in the air, warning him. Surely something like this shouldn't happen so...so quietly.
His head was still full of Daniel's problems when he reached the telephone. "O'Neill here," he said curtly.
"Colonel." He recognised Carter's voice instantly. But she sounded different. Odd.
"What is it, Carter?"
"We have a serious situation here."
That was all he needed to hear. This wasn't a secure line. "I'm on my way," he assured her.
"No, sir!" Carter's voice became a little shrill. "You can't come out here, Colonel. We've had to lock the base down completely."
"What's happened?" Jack glanced around him as he spoke; no one seemed to be listening in.
"SG-2 brought something back with them. Some sort of contagion. Sir, they are all dead. A lot of other people are sick..."
"Hammond?"
"He's been infected, sir. He ordered the lockdown but he’s already so sick..."
If Hammond was sick there would be no one in command out there. Jack had been off the base less than an hour. How could this have happened so quickly? He had to think fast, get the information he needed. Disease would affect anyone human...
"Is Teal'c affected?"
"Yes, sir, he is. Doctor Fraiser thinks he'll recover, but the others..."
"Slow down, Carter. How about Cleis? And yourself?"
"Cleis is fine, sir, he's helping in the infirmary. So far I'm okay."
"Has the Pentagon been informed?"
"I don't know."
"Listen carefully, Carter. You're in command. Get on that red phone and make sure the Joint Chiefs know what's happening. There are four teams still off world. You have to contact them by radio and tell them they can't come home as scheduled. Tell them to rendezvous on...um...P3X-797 and wait for orders. Then try to contact your father and ask him to take care of our people if we don't make it. You got all that?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't worry, I'll stay on ground level until I get orders from Washington."
"Understood, sir."
Jack hung up the phone. Oh, shit, shit, shit. They had narrowly avoided disasters like this before. Perhaps they could do so again. But this was so quick. SG-2...dead. How many others infected? He hadn't asked. And Hammond was out of the picture.
Jack might be stuck in the position of having to order the unthinkable.
He returned to Daniel briefly. "I have to go, Daniel. There's big trouble."
"Bad?"
"The worst," Jack answered honestly. "Look, I might not be able to visit for a while..."
Daniel looked scared. "Jack...am I going to see you again?"
He could always trust Daniel to put both their worst fears into words. Jack didn't know how to answer him. Eventually, he said, "I hope so, Daniel. I hope so."
Next Day
The isolation suit slowed down Jack's movements a lot, but speed wouldn't be the problem today. He lifted the case of medical supplies and signalled to the two doctors who would accompany him. Apprehensive, to say the least, the three men headed into Cheyenne Mountain.
It had been a long night. Jack stayed in touch with the base by phone, and the news just kept getting worse and worse. Carter was holding it together well, and so far she wasn't sick. But that was the only good news. All four members of SG-2 had become ill within minutes of their return. None of them had been able to explain the illness: they had encountered nothing that could be considered a risk. The contagion had spread rapidly, much faster than anything natural could spread. In less than sixteen hours, the death toll was devastating.
The mountain was eerily quiet: all personnel having been evacuated from the upper levels (they could be confident no one there had been exposed). It was like walking through a ghost town. Finally, they reached the SGC. The elevator doors opened and Jack saw Carter waiting for them. She looked exhausted, pale and drawn. Jack laid down the case he carried and held out his arms to her, for once not giving a damn if it were inappropriate. He felt her shaking through the thick suit he wore as she returned his hug.
"Report, Major."
"We've converted all of level twenty two into an infirmary, and we're using twenty one as a morgue. Jan...Doctor Fraiser is beginning to make progress with the infection, but she's started to get sick herself. We got a radio message from Colonel Makepeace; all of the off-world teams are on P3X-797 awaiting your orders."
"You'd better take us to Doc Fraiser," Jack suggested.
From ghost town to plague city. Level twenty two was a nightmare.
Janet Fraiser looked terrible; Jack was glad Carter had warned him. She looked tired more than anything, but the kind of tired that comes after weeks or months, not overnight.
"Are you okay, Doc?" he asked her gently.
She nodded. "I'm doing better than most, Colonel."
"Well enough to report?"
"Of course." She straightened up, visibly pushing her fatigue aside. "What we have here is a viral infection that seems to be both airborne and spread through direct contact. There's a slim possibility that this is of natural origin, some alien virus we simply have no resistance to, but I've been proceeding on the assumption that it's an engineered virus targeted to human DNA. By treating the symptoms we have been able to slow the progress of the disease, and I've been experimenting on myself with a compound I believe will help."
Jack didn't like the sound of that. "Doc, with all due respect, you don't look like it's helping."
"I don't know, Colonel. My bloodwork looks good, but I think time is running out. Ordinarily something like this takes years of research."
"I understand. You'll have some help now: I brought a couple of doctors with me. And the supplies you requested."
Jack left Fraiser to talk to the doctors. He would be of no help to them. There was one thing he could do to help, though: he ordered Carter to get some sleep.
"A wise choice," Cleis commented, having overheard.
"Come with me," Jack told him, leading Cleis into the corridor where they could talk in relative privacy. "Does this thing come from the Goa'uld?"
"The evidence suggests it," Cleis confirmed. "I have not been affected by this disease, neither has Major Carter. Others appear to have some natural resistance, but we are the only two who have escaped entirely. I suspect because we both have quantities of naquadah in our blood."
"Can we use that? Inject everyone with naquadah, maybe?"
Cleis shook his head. "Even if you had enough, Colonel, I don't have the equipment here I would need. The only naquadah you have is in solid form. It would have to be processed into a liquid and treated in complex ways..."
Yadda, yadda, yadda. "Cleis, I don't have time for a biology lesson. What do you need?"
"Nothing you have on Earth. If you would allow me to return to Vorash..."
"No. I'm sorry, Cleis. A lockdown means nobody leaves. Nobody."
"Colonel, there is no danger that I would carry this disease elsewhere, and I could return with real answers."
"No. There are no exceptions, Cleis. What else do you have?"
"Doctor Fraiser and I have made some progress on what may be a cure. It will be a few days before we are certain."
"Days? In a few days everyone will be dead!"
"No, Colonel. What progress we have made is in slowing the progress of the disease. We hope that if we can slow it enough, the body's natural ability to heal will take over. If just one person recovers, we'll have a start toward creating a cure, and a vaccine. But that process cannot be rushed."
"I'm sorry. This is all just..."
"We have lost many lives, Colonel, but with luck, we won't lose more."
Jack left Cleis to his work and headed to level twenty one. The morgue. Still and silent. Jack walked the corridors slowly, pondering the report he had to make.
So many dead in such a short time. Dead bodies draped in blue cloth. Some morbid impulse made him pull the sheet back from one of them and he recognised the young lieutenant who would have joined SG-1 in a few days.
This was too much. Too high a price to pay.
Night
Daniel heard the knock and glanced to the door. He felt his heart leap when he saw Jack there. "Jack! God, I've been so worried!" He studied his friend's face. "You look like hell."
"I feel like hell." Jack sat down. "I can't stay long; I've got to get some sleep. But I wanted to come...Daniel, I have some bad news."
"That emergency?" The worst, Jack had said, leading Daniel to imagine all sorts of horrors.
Jack nodded. "A team returned to Earth infected with some disease. It spread like wildfire. They locked down the base...but that locked the disease inside."
Daniel's mouth was dry. "How bad is it?" he asked, afraid of the answer.
Jack sighed heavily. "Hammond's dead. Carter and Teal'c are okay, but...we lost nearly half the base."
"My god. Jack..." Daniel swallowed past the constriction in his throat. "I don't know what to say."
"Nothing to say. I had to go down there today...don't panic, I was in full HazMat gear and they put me though about three hours of decontam when I came out. I'm safe." Jack broke off.
Daniel said nothing.
"It was horrible down there. This thing doesn't leave any mark on the outside, but inside...god, I don't...I can't..."
"It's okay, Jack. I don't need to hear it." The words sounded ridiculous, even as he said them.
"Okay?" Jack repeated. "It's a long way from okay, Daniel. Do you know why I went down there today?"
Daniel could think of a lot of possible reasons. "I know you feel responsible for those people," he offered tentatively.
"The brass wanted a recommendation from me. Whether to let this go on or cauterise the facility."
"Cauterise? You mean..."
"I mean destroy the whole thing, along with everyone in it." Jack pushed a hand through his hair. "We have to consider it, Daniel. This disease spread so fast. If it got out of the SGC...well, you can fill in the blanks."
Daniel could. They were talking about an unstoppable plague. Something that had the potential to cast the world back to the Dark Ages. "The Goa'uld?" he asked.
"That's our guess. There are other possibilities, and right now it doesn't matter where it came from."
"What...what did you recommend?" Daniel was almost afraid to ask.
"They seem to be getting control of it. I think they deserve that chance. But I only managed to buy a couple of days. If there's no progress by then..."
If there was no progress, Jack would have to give the order to kill all those people. The conclusion remained unspoken, but both men knew it. Daniel felt numb, unable to take all this in. SG-2, dead. General Hammond, dead. Janet...he didn't want to know. He didn't want to hear she was alive when this still hung over them like Damocles' sword. Daniel's own problems suddenly seemed unimportant.
He reached out for Jack's hand. "Let it out, Jack. You'll be no good to them until you do."
When Jack raised his eyes, Daniel saw all the pain and frustration he had been holding in. "Daniel..." Jack whispered. Nothing more.
No more need be said.