Standard Disclaimer is standard. Anyone you don't recognise or research as belonging to MGM and the Stargate franchise is mine.
I'm sorry that this has taken me over a month to get to you all. I'm so very sorry and I fully intend on getting another chapter out to you all, definitely within the next week - two if I am suddenly swamped with work.
That's been the major reason I haven't updated, and I am so very sorry. I currently have the next chapter mostly done with some fleshing out to still be done, but it's almost ready for you all.
I wish to remind people that there is an ongoing poll on who everyone thinks Camilla should get together with. If you go and click my penname at the top of this page, the poll is right at the top of my bio, so have a vote and I'll take a look. While I have promised at least one pairing to a reader, I will take all comments/poll votes seriously and consider how to work in a relationship – a friendship at the least – into the story.
I do want to thank those of you who have either voted on my page or through your reviews; to say the least, it's very interesting to see where everyone's opinions lie.
Chapter 9: Entering The Hot Zone. Not For The First Time And Sadly Not The Last
Martouf had long ago gotten used to the humans of Earth; it was a matter of ignoring them until you wanted to speak with the more annoying ones. It was why he was stood at the edge of the hoard of scientists that McKay had had join them in exploring the outer edges of the city that had been the worst affected by the storm weeks ago, long before the journey to the Wraith planet.
Martouf had also gotten used to the slight ache in his shoulder following that journey to the planet. Despite the healing Lantash had managed to perform on the joint and the healing device after Carson's close inspection and treatment, his shoulder had yet to heal properly. He had hoped that his shoulder would have been fully healed by the time the search through the City came around on the same day that both he and Camilla had agreed to finally celebrate both his natal day – birthday, if his English was correct – and his sister's despite the eight months that had passed since it had actually been.
I am sorry, my friend, he heard Lantash murmur in their shared mind.
Martouf rolled his shoulder slightly and shook his head. You have nothing to apologise for Lantash, he replied. You have done all that you can, and that is all I can – and ever will – ask of you.
Your injury is no worse than what I healed you from following Netu, his closest friend protested. I have no idea as to why this is taking it's time to heal despite what I have put into it.
Martouf rolled his eyes – admittedly a habit picked up from the Tau'ri around him. The explosives within Wraith and Ancient technology are unknown to us, old friend, he said. It could merely be difficulty with our body purging the internalised materials from the bombs.
Martouf 'heard' his symbiote sigh. Then I hope it is just that, then, he said, his voice sounding a little strained. Other than the damage to your arm soon after our arrival here, this is the worst that I have had to heal with you, Martouf, since you returned as my host.
It was the turn of the male host to sigh now. He remembered his time as a Zatarc with little fondness and now, he still tried to make his continued existence mean something after the Asgard removed the programming. Even if it meant that he died now, fighting alongside his sister instead of against her, he would do it and hope that Lantash found an adequate host after he passed on.
Hey! Stop moping, boy, Lantash said sharply, bringing him out of his thoughts. If that were to happen, I would not go on without you, Martouf son of Saroosh. You are the best host I have asked for since I was spawned and I do not wish to change that. When you die, I will join you.
Martouf froze at that, shocked to the core of his being by his symbiote's words. But, Lantash, your knowledge would die with us, he said quietly. That knowledge is indispensable and can't be lost.
He heard a scoff from his closest friend. As long as Kel'an lasts longer than us, he answered, her knowledge will be shared. That is enough for me as much of her knowledge coincides with mine, Martouf. There is no way to talk me out of this, so do not try.
The man sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. He knew from experience that when Lantash got something set in his mind, there was no changing it. With another sigh he did a quick head count of the scientists, relaxing when he counted them all, minus McKay, Zelenka and Hays as well as Lieutenant Ford who were on their way back from their section of the city. He relaxed at that, leaning absently against his Staff Weapon, a quiet part of his mind resolving to try and persuade Lantash to take another host on after him.
The Tau'ri radio in both his ear and in the improvised pouch of his belt buzzed quietly to life and Martouf freed one hand to silence the hand held radio in the pouch.
"So, Rodney, what's it like out there in the suburbs today?" Dr. Weir asked, just as the Canadian walked into the room.
"Essentially, with the exception of the upper level Storage room," the scientist began, "which the lovely Dumais informs me is in no immediate danger, this pier's in relatively good shape."
"Even after all the flooding from the storm?" the head of the expedition asked.
"Well, it's dark, it's damp and it smells terrible," McKay answered. "But from an engineering standpoint, we're good."
Martouf heard a soft chuckle at that. "Head back," she ordered softly.
"Heading back," McKay said before he tapped his radio, ending the connection and Martouf did the same with a small smile.
It appeared that they would be returning back to the main tower of the city with time to spare. Martouf had plans for spending time with his sister, helping her if she needed it or just spending some time with her. It had been a luxury he had repeatedly allowed himself as he lived on Earth, but it was sadly something that he now had precious little of with Camilla now heading the newly formed Translation Department for the Ancient City and he himself a semi-constant member of Major Sheppard's team.
"Alright, you clowns, listen up!" McKay called out. "I don't often get a chance to say this, so savour it: good work, boys and girls! Let's go home."
Martouf sighed as he did a final head count more out of habit than anything else and frowned when he came up two short. "Hold on, Dr.," he called. "We're missing two of your men."
"Johnson and Wagner," Zelenka supplied after a hurried moment.
Martouf heard McKay sigh quietly, his Tok'ra enhanced senses catching the noise. "Wagner, Johnson, what's your position?" the Canadian asked.
There was a long silence and Martouf quickly activated the radio ear piece in case he was missing the conversation.
"We need back-up!" Wagner eventually answered, his voice sounding as terrified as Martouf had heard any man. "They're coming at us!"
"What?!" McKay snapped out.
Martouf looked at the Czech scientist, raising a hand to Lieutenant Ford. "Where are they?" he asked the man firmly.
It took the man a few seconds to check his life signs detector before he pointed down one corridor. "Down this corridor," he answered.
Martouf looked at McKay as he moved quickly, passing through the scientists before they knew he was there. "We're on our way," McKay snapped into his radio, his footsteps starting behind the Tok'ra.
It took seconds for Martouf to lift up his Staff Weapon sufficiently high enough for him to flick the activation switch and hear the buzzing of the device as he moved quickly down the corridor, racing when he turned at the end and saw a curled up form near a prone one.
Wagner was the one that lay prone as far as Martouf could determine and the woman curled in on herself, rocking and sobbing, was Johnson. Martouf scanned the area quickly before he crouched down by Wagner, gripping a wrist while he sensed Ford pressed two fingers to the man's throat. It took several seconds before Martouf looked at Ford and shook his head.
"Johnson, Johnson!" McKay snapped at the woman and Martouf looked up to see the man crouched down in front of her. "You okay?"
"McKay," Ford called, waiting until the Canadian looked at him. "He's dead!"
A-A-A-A-A-A
Cam sighed as she sat in the infirmary of Atlantis. It was the monthly blood tests that she had quickly come to hate on the floating base. To make sure that no one had contracted anything potentially dangerous – or in her case, something that could get passed Kel'an – the blood tests had been ordered by both Elizabeth and Carson at the very beginning of the forced separation from Earth.
The head of expedition had initially ordered the tests to make sure that there wasn't any potentially dangerous in everyone's blood whereas Carson had taken to comparing the blood samples drawn from the Athosians to the ones from the Tau'ri.
She hissed in a bit of pain as she felt Carson slide the needle into the vein in her right elbow – she had once heard that it didn't hurt, but as far as the woman was concerned, it was a lie; although she had to admit that the first time had not hurt as much as she had expected.
"Agh, buck up lass," the Scottish doctor told her after a few seconds. "It's just a bit o' blood."
Cam nodded at that, resolutely looking away from the vial filling with her blood. "Yeah, I know," she said. "But there's an integral part of me that would have preferred to have lost it in a fight."
Carson chuckled as he took the one full vial and replaced it with an empty one. "Tha' would b' Kel'an lass," he said. "How many of her hosts 'ave been fighters?"
The Tok'ra nodded at that. "More than half of them," she agreed. "It just feels like my own, Carson."
The head of the infirmary nodded as he withdrew the second vial before withdrawing the needle. Cam reacted and automatically lifted her hand to her shoulder, waiting for the blood to clot there. When she heard Carson curse in a quick spate of Gaelic, she grinned slightly and looked up at him as he tapped at his radio earpiece.
"McKay, this is Dr. Beckett," the man said. "What exactly is the nature of the emergency?"
Cam sighed, realising that she had left her own earpiece back in the rooms set aside for her work. She sat and waited, watching as the doctor's mild frown deepened.
"Who's gone?" he asked. "How?"
Oh dear, Kel' muttered. This cannot be good.
The woman nodded at that before she watched Carson, watched as he held a short conversation before he tapped his earpiece. He seemed to think for a moment in the seconds it took for him to look at her. "How are you in a hazmat suit, love?" he asked her after another few seconds.
Cam shrugged. "I'm alright," she answered as she lowered her arm and checked her elbow. "I'm not claustrophobic if I'm in one if that's what you're getting at Carson. Why do you ask?"
The Scottish doctor nodded to himself for a moment. "Rodney's called in for a containment team," he answered. "I need a full complement of people in hazmat suits to go down to the pier. I'm sending one of the doctors up to Elizabeth."
Cam nodded as she got down off of the medical bed she was sat on and moved to follow the man. "Let's go!" she said.
She froze when Carson turned to look at her. "I need y', lass, to go ahead of the rest of us," he told her firmly. "Rodney's goin' to need an Ancient translator."
Cam nodded at that, understanding. "Point me at the nearest suit," she agreed. "I'll get down as soon as I can."
A-A-A-A-A-A
Rodney sighed as he walked down the Ancient corridors, following the odd corridors to the last room that he had known Wagner and Johnson to have been in. He had long ago tuned out Peterson's angered mutterings, aided by the two Marines taking up the rear and Martouf walking beside him.
"Isn't this the same section Johnson and Wagner were exploring?" Ford asked from his other side.
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes," he answered shortly, calmly leading the way.
"So, we're retracing their steps?" Ford continued.
Rodney nodded and he absently drew on a rubber glove, protecting his hand from anything that could have killed two of his scientists. "That's right," he said. "Don't worry; my motivations are based entirely on self-preservation."
"Wait, wait! Wait!" Peterson called out. "Wait! Ford's right. Doesn't this increase our chances of getting infected?"
Rodney stopped and turned, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the stupidity of his own men. He faced everyone.
"Alright," he said. "Let me spell this out for you, OK?" He looked around for a heartbeat. "If there is a bacterial agent and it is not airborne, then it should be relatively safe for us to look around as long as we take the proper precautions." He paused, thinking for a moment. "However, if it is an airborne agent, then there's a very good chance we're already infected."
"Well, shouldn't we wait for Dr. Beckett to decide that?"Ford asked.
Rodney sighed, suddenly wishing that he hadn't chosen one of the greener soldiers to join him – he'd been hoping to help the boy. "Those men were only down there for twelve hours," he told everyone as calmly as he dared. "Even if they were infected right away, that's an alarmingly short incubation period. Now, if anyone else is infected, as in – oh, I don't know – maybe us, seconds are going to count, Lieutenant." He saw the man nodded after a moment before he looked around. "Alright, light." He held out his hand and took the torch that Zelenka offered. "Let's go."
It didn't take long to find the room that he'd designated for Wagner and Johnson to look at and Rodney couldn't help the small pulse of guilt; maybe, if he hadn't sent anyone down here, they'd all still be alive, heading back into the main part of the city instead of looking for what had killed two of his scientists and potentially threatened the rest of them. He sighed, shaking his head ever so slightly; the Canadian had hoped that by exploring the City he'd be able to make up for Gaul's suicide.
Rodney paused at the partially open door, shining the torch inside for a moment, seeing the familiar Ancient consoles and Ancient writing as he pushed the past aside for the moment. Martouf joined him, shining his own light in and the combined light made things a little clearer; from what little that could be seen, it looked like there was a central console in the middle of the room surrounded by several, other consoles.
"Right," he said. "Everybody stay here."
He felt Ford shift and move to join the other scientists. "Ford," he said warningly.
"You just told me to-" the soldier began.
"Everybody except Ford, stay here," Rodney clarified. "You think I'm going in there by myself? Uh-uh." He looked at Martouf, watching as the Tok'ra nodded, shifting his Staff weapon.
"I will keep watch," he said.
The scientist nodded before he squeezed in through the partially open door, wincing as he heard his tac vest catch for a moment before he continued on. He heard Ford join him, just as a crunching emanated from their feet, sounding a lot like glass. He turned to look at Ford, the man raising his P-90, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.
"Don't touch anything," he ordered him.
Ford nodded and they began their quick exploration of the room, stepping over the rest of the glass. Rodney moved towards the central consoles, seeing the large glass tubes there, well over half of them broken, the source of a lot of the glass on the floor. From the things floating in the last remaining few glass tubes, it looked like whatever had been in them had possible killed his men.
"This is not good," he muttered.
A-A-A-A-A-A
When Martouf saw McKay nod and gesture for them to enter, he handed his Staff Weapon off to one of the other soldiers before he grasped the two halves of the doors and pushed. Hard.
His muscles – enhanced as they were by Lantash – strained as he pushed against the Ancient-created metal, his arms shaking from the force he applied. It took a few seconds before the metal groaned and submitted to his strength. Opening the small gap to a full, Ancient doorway width seemed the easier route for getting their gear into the room.
Still, as he let go of the doors and moved to one side to let the scientists go in first with their gear, Martouf felt his arms shaking from the effort. It had taken a lot more strength to open the doors than he had originally thought it would. Then, the shaking subsided and the slight pain faded.
It seems the Ancient metal and door mechanisms are stronger than we had anticipated, Lantash murmured in his mind.
Martouf chuckled at that, grinning slightly to himself. It seems that Camilla has a lot to answer for, he agreed. She, out of all of us, would have known.
It took a few seconds before Martouf felt ready to help the scientists, going back to the main room they had inhabited to store their tools and coming back with several of the heaviest boxes with him and the two soldiers that had joined him.
A-A-A-A-A-A
Rodney used his gloved hand to rest against the Ancient console as he checked through the information, cursing the fact that he was running on very little Ancient knowledge in terms of being able to translate what was in front of him. He could understand some, guess more and only wish at what the rest of it was.
It was, he silently admitted, one of the few times that he wished Camilla had joined them or that he'd badgered her into giving him more lessons – something he had steadfastly refused to do.
"Any number of these smashed and open containers could have released the virus that killed Johnson and Wagner," Zelenka put in from across the room, drawing him out of his maudlin thoughts.
"And how would something like that survive for all these years?" Ford asked.
"Viruses can remain dormant for long periods," he heard Dumais answer.
Zelenka grunted, muttering something in Czech as he walked over. "I'm hoping something will be found in the database," he said. "OK, I think that we-"
Rodney waved the man off. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," he said dismissively. "It doesn't appear to be networked in with the rest of the Ancient systems." He pointed to information of his screen. "In fact, if you look, it only contains information about the experiments that took place in this room." Realisation dawned on Rodney then and he slapped at his radio, hearing it buzz to life in his ear. "Weir, it's McKay."
"Go ahead Rodney," the head of Atlantis answered.
"Where's Beckett?" he asked her as he moved away from the computer, letting Zelenka take a look at it.
"He's on his way," Elizabeth answered calmly. "It takes some time to load a whole medical team into suits. But, he has sent Camilla on ahead, she should be with you in ten minutes or so."
Rodney froze at that. "What for?" he asked, hearing Martouf cursing quietly in the background. "Why is she coming?"
"According to Beckett, she was in for her monthly bloods when you called it in. He's sent her down for her ability to translate."
"Send her back!" Martouf ordered. "I will not have my sister exposed to this!"
"I can't do anything, Martouf," Elizabeth said. "She's in a hazmat suit, she'll be fine. Camilla has strict orders to leave the suit on and do nothing to harm herself or Kel'an."
Rodney shook his head. "Despite this, we seem to have stumbled across something that I find… a little troubling," he said, trying to remember where his mind had gone.
"That's not what I want to hear."
A-A-A-A-A-A
Dumais had been scanning the Ancient on the screen in front of her, trying to see what could have killed her two friends and threatened the rest of them. She'd seen something earlier, after speaking with Wagner, but she'd brushed it off, slipping her long brown hair into her usual ponytail as she looked at her work.
Now, that feeling had returned and she looked up, terrified at the whispy creatures that stood in the room. It terrified her that no one else seemed to see what she could, looking at the horrible creatures! She couldn't hear what Dr. McKay was saying as she whimpered, the creatures coming closer to her and moved back from her laptop, unable to move more than that.
She turned to look away, to do anything and she screamed at the sight of the creatures all over Peterson, the man trying to help in translating. "It's all over you!" she cried out, rushing to remove the creatures.
The creatures had him, Dumais knew it as he struggled to keep her off, the creatures taunting her as they clung to the man.
"They're all over you!" she sobbed out. "They're all over you!"
Dumais felt a couple of the others grabbing her, dragging her back, keeping her away from her friend, the friend she was struggling to aid. Then the pain started and she screamed, clutching at her head. Everything hurt so much!
She couldn't help the screams, the convulsions of pain as she struggled to fight through it. If only it would stop! Dear lord, someone just stop the pain! It felt like her skull was about to split in two!
Then the pain got worse and worse and worse and Dumais felt something sticky trickling down her lip seconds before everything went dark. But not before she saw Peterson leaving the lab.
A-A-A-A-A-A
John ground his teeth as he sat on the bench at the window in the City's designated gym, fighting the urge to take his ear piece out and throw it hard against the nearest wall.
"Someone has to do something," he ground out.
"We are doing something," Elizabeth answered calmly in his ear. "Grodin's working on a plan to limit the door controls…"
John shook his head at that, gripping the leather of the seat in an iron grip to try and not destroy his only link to the rest of the base. "That's not good enough," he told her. "Someone has to go out there and stop him. Teyla and I are ready."
"Major we've been-"
John shook his head, interrupting her as he stood. "Peterson obviously isn't thinking straight," he told her. "And he's endangering the entire population of the City."
"Mai'tac Sheppard, why do you think I'm currently trying to play hide and seek with the man?!" Carter's voice broke in, sounding mildly breathless.
John ground his teeth and started to pace. "You aren't armed," he said.
"Contrary to the current belief held by the chauvinists in the City," Carter answered calmly, "I am, in actuality, armed with a P-90, the safety off and my finger on the trigger. I am certainly more than capable in taking care of Peterson should he turn violent."
"But-"
"Should I remind you, Major, that if you disobey the orders of Dr. Weir, that I would have the right to court martial you here, by Tok'ra standards?" the Tok'ra said in a surprisingly hard tone of voice. "I have also been awake for close to three days now, Major Sheppard and my control over my own temper and Kel'an's is wearing thin. Push your luck and you will find yourself wishing you had not disobeyed."
Before John could say another word, the woman had cut her connection and Elizabeth murmured a polite goodbye before she, too, cut her connection.
A-A-A-A-A-A
Cam raced through the corridors of the city's pier, moving as quickly as she dared in the cumbersome suit. She heard Peter Grodin's voice in her ear, directing her towards Peterson as he worked towards the City's closest transporter. She could easily feel her Staff Weapon strapped carefully across her back while she carried a P-90 in her hands, the weapon set to semi-auto, needing the control.
"He's working on the door right in front of you," the technician said. "He's almost through."
Cam nodded as she settled herself. With a sigh, she felt Kel'an forcibly lower her arms, subtly reminding her of her silent promise.
Just in case, her friend reminded her seconds before the doors hissed open a small fraction, revealing the scientist, his skin covered in sweat. You did say that you wanted to take him alive. Not dead.
Peterson froze when he saw Cam who merely raised her hands away from the P-90. "I'm not here to hurt you, Peterson," she told him. "You know I don't like weapons."
"Then why carry one?!" the man snapped at her.
She shrugged. "Procedure," she answered. "Come on, Dr. Beckett's already back with the others."
The man shook his head. "I'm not heading back there!" he told her before he grinned. "You could take me to the infirmary! It's safe there."
Cam shook her head sadly at the man as he moved through the open door. "I can't do that," she said, even as she took a slow, careful and subtle step backwards from the man. "The sensors aren't working here in the pier, but they are up in the tower. You would infect everyone within seconds." She paused, thinking quickly before she nodded. "How about this; we head somewhere else on this pier, away from the others so you won't have to go back."
The man shook his head. "Just let me through!" he snapped. "Just let me through."
Cam took a single step back and grabbed her P-90. "By order of the Tok'ra High Council, stay where you are!" she ordered.
The man didn't listen as he started screaming and raced towards her, raising a piece of Ancient metal he had obviously found. As he ran towards her, wielding the metal like a knife, slashing it, Cam found herself begging the man to stop as she moved out of his range of attacks.
It was only when his last slice scratched the clear face plate that Cam reached for her P-90 and fired the one shot she had prayed she wouldn't need to fire.
A-A-A-A-A-A
Martouf moved to intercept his sister before she entered the lab, nodding once to Rodney. The scientist understood, everyone, including the main part of the city, had heard what had happened and Martouf had to make sure his sister was well, even as he left his weapon behind in the lab.
He met her two corridors away, her gait slow and her expression blank as she carried Peterson's body in her arms, the blood from the one bullet wound trickling down the synthetic skin of the hazmat suit she wore. It wasn't a good sign and Martouf moved slowly into her line of sight.
"Camilla?" he asked her.
Her blue eyes snapped to his, tears clear in her eyes and her face looked like she was about to crack, her emotions ready to run wild. "Marty?" she breathed, her voice distorted slightly by the hazmat suit she wore.
He reached out to her, resting a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the sensation of the suit under his bare palm. As much as he wished to draw his sister into a tight embrace, with Peterson's body in her arms and their shared respect of the body, it was the most the two of them would have to settle for.
Instead, Martouf watched as various emotions played across Camilla's face, a few tears breaking free of her control. Despite Kel'an's memories and her own knowledge of how to kill brought on by years of working with the Stargate Programme, this had been her first 'innocent' that she'd killed. His sister was certainly not made for this, for the fight that inevitably took and killed the innocents. Martouf had his own memories of such cases and those innocents haunted him, those at that summit the more prolific in their torture of him.
"Why didn't he just do as I asked?" Camilla asked as she looked at him, her voice thick with tears. "Why?"
Martouf sighed as he rubbed his sister's arm. "It was not in his make up to do so, Camilla," he told her.
She nodded. "I know," she agreed. "I've never killed someone who was only doing what they had to. To survive." She sniffed and muffled a sob. "Let's get to the others."
Martouf tightened his grip on her shoulder for a few seconds before he relaxed slightly. "We'll deal with this later," he promised her.
A-A-A-A-A-A
After having given Carson's Coroner Peterson's body to join the others being autopsied for C.O.D.s, Cam walked beside her brother as calmly as she dared into the room she had originally been sent to go to before having to deal with Peterson, startled to see one scientist lying on the floor while Rodney stood in the middle of the room, various medical cables attached to him. "Donnae take this the wrong way laddie," Carson was saying.
"But why?" Zelenka said, finishing some conversation that had occurred while Cam and Martouf had been out of the room.
"Exactly," Carson agreed.
Cam shook her head at that. "Any translations I can do?" she asked, giving everyone a weak smile – she was thankful when their attention as brought on her and not on the blood that she had been forced to remove from the suit, no matter what anyone said, Peterson's blood was on her hands now. "It's why I originally came here."
Rodney turned to look at her more completely as the wires were removed and he nodded, pointing to a laptop nearby, resting on one of the consoles around the room. "My Ancient is a little rusty," he admitted. "I need you to give me a quick, rough translation of what they were covering in this room."
Cam nodded and gave the scientist a mock salute. "I can do that," she said, moving to the laptop, even as she sensed her brother staying close to her. "Really rough or detailed rough Rodney?"
"Detailed as you can get in five minutes."
Five minutes? Kel' asked. Sure, why don't we just solve the entire problem for you while we're at it?!
Shush, Kel', Cam ordered her friend as she nodded and stood at the laptop, her eyes scanning the information quickly. He's under a lot of stress right now.
She heard her friend sigh in her mind before a hum of agreement filled her mind. "I'll be in the room where they're doing the autopsy," Rodney told her, pausing at her shoulder as he rested a hand there. "They're going to start on Hays as soon as they've got him there."
Cam nodded as she looked at the scientist, reaching up a hand to pat his. "I'll call you when I've got something," she promised him before he left and she turned her attention back to the laptop screen.
A-A-A-A-A-A
Rodney stood at the edge of the plastic covered room, watching as Biro and her team worked on Hays who lay under a separately wrapped container, the only contact the pathologist and her team were having were through small holes cut into the plastic so that their arms and tools could work on the corpse.
Carson stood nearby, watching him. "Are ye sure ye really wanna see this, Rodney?" he asked.
He ignored the question, brushing it off. "It's too accurate," he said, remembering what Hays had told him, what he himself had experienced. "How could something organic be that efficient?"
Carson sighed. "Again, we're in the middle of another galaxy, lad," he said. "Just because it's out of the ordinary for us does nae mean it's nae commonplace here."
Rodney shook his head. "No, no, no," he said. "I don't buy that. Most of the habitable planets we've encounter thus far are-are-are carbon copies of Earth in terms of environment conditions." Carson nodded in agreement and it hit Rodney just as his radio burst to life.
"Rodney," Camilla spoke in his ear. "I think you're going to want to read this. I may or may not have found your smoking gun."
He turned and rushed out of the room, hearing Carson calling something. It took only seconds to reach the room and from there a heartbeat to get to the Tok'ra.
"Aneurysm, visual cortex, twelve hours?" the woman listed calmly.
Rodney nodded. "Yes," he said. "Why?"
The woman grinned – though Rodney saw how weak it looked – as she turned to the laptop and tapped the screen. "Incubation to completion, exactly six hours," she said. "Visions identical for all infected and the location of the aneurysm is the same for every single victim of this."
Rodney shrugged. "And?" he asked. "That just sounds like you've listed everything we already know."
The woman shook her head. "Direct, albeit rough, translation of the work done in this room," she said. "From infection to actual symptoms of this thing, six hours and add on another six to death, you have your C.O.D."
The scientist watched as she opened another, nearby laptop and he looked at the screen, well aware of Carson joining him. "Is that what I think it is, lass?" the doctor asked.
"If you think it's a nano-virus, then you'd be right on that one Carson," Camilla answered.
Rodney scanned the information quickly. "One manufactured to kill humans," he added calmly.
A-A-A-A-A-A
John paced the inside of the gym for probably the hundredth time. He hated sitting around when he could be doing something and with the doors closed to the hallway under Elizabeth's order he had no way to vent his anger. It wasn't helped by the fact that the head of the City and of the translations department had overridden him. John was like any hot-blooded man: he never liked being put in his place by women, even when they were right.
Okay, maybe there were times that he could live with that, but right now, he had the welfare of the city to worry about. So what if he died protecting them, it was his life over the loss over a third of the city's population. He would make the choice again and again and again if given the opportunity. Even now, he wished he'd been the one to go after Peterson, Camilla was a young woman who – as far as her records showed – had never killed an innocent man and now she had from the sound of things that had gone over the radio system.
His radio buzzed to life in his ear, startling him for a moment. "Major Sheppard," Rodney spoke in his head. "This is McKay."
John looked up. "What is it?" he asked.
"I could use your help in my lab," the Canadian answered.
John frowned. "Elizabeth?" he asked, directing the question at the head of the city.
"You have a go, John," she answered. "Stop off at the infirmary and pick up a hazmat suit, but you're cleared to go."
He turned his head and looked at the doors, watching as they slid open with a compliant hiss and chime. He nodded and left the gym. He stopped off quickly in the infirmary and pulled on the hazmat suit before he made a beeline for McKay's lab.
It took him several long minutes, hop-scotching around the city using the transporters to get closer and closer until he walked in the front doors. "Alright, McKay," he said. "I'm here."
"D'you see it?" the scientist asked.
John couldn't help the shrug. "Is it the big thing in the middle of the room?" he asked.
"Yeah," Rodney answered. "That's the one."
The machine was large, standing on an Ancient table in the middle of the room, looking a lot like a bomb from the 1940s with black and yellow hazard strips covering both ends while two stickers 'Warning' and 'Caution' appeared on the side with the dial.
"Should I pay attention to all these warnings?" he asked.
Rodney snorted. "Not today, no," he answered before rattling off a list of what to do.
John took a moment, tilting his head to one side as his mind took in the orders and promptly began to follow them through, vaguely hearing the scientist holding another conversation as he worked; first typing the code in at the front of the machine to let him work, then hitting the rest of the buttons in sequence that would get the generator to start up. As such, he saw the lights inside the machine moving as a whirring emanated from it.
"Okay," he said, talking to Rodney. "It's working. When should I hit the discharge button?"
"OK, there should be a red overload light," the scientist told him.
It took John a few seconds to see it, right beneath the front of the EM generator. "Yeah, I see it," he said.
"Wait 'til it comes on, give it a good ten count and then discharge," Rodney told him.
John paused, frowning. "A ten-count?!" he asked, never having heard the term.
"Don't worry, I've probably been around more EMPs than anyone," the man said, mistaking his question.
John shook his head. "This is gonna be… uh…" he managed. "I'm going to be fine, right?"
"Yes," the man answered sarcastically. "That's a yes. You'll be fine."
John sighed and nodded, looking at the overload light for a few seconds before it came on. He flipped the switch for the button and began counting to ten, adding on another couple of numbers in case he'd moved too fast before he hit the button.
He looked up at the sound of a 'whooshing'. He couldn't help but look around expectantly, waiting. "Anything?" Rodney asked.
"Is it possible it might take some time?" Elizabeth asked as John watched the EM generator powered down.
"Doubtful. Are you still locked out of the Ancient mainframe?"
There were a few tense seconds. "Got any other ideas?" Elizabeth asked.
John heard Rodney switch languages, French cursing audible over the radio and John winced before Rodney got control of himself and switched back to English. The orders that Rodney snapped down the frequency at him went over his head, but John followed them, following the visual cues in front of him. It took some time before John sighed and growled under his breath.
"I've already tried that," he snarled. "It's blown."
"That is before we re-set the sub-switch," Rodney snapped back.
"Well, maybe we shouldn't have overloaded it so much!" John snarled back.
"Look, it's fixable, it's fixable," the Canadian told him. "We just need to use a little trial and error."
John hung his head, barely restraining his hands from ripping the hazmat's helmet off and running his hand through his hair as he fought not to kick the table, knowing he risked the wroth of McKay if he did so.
"Look," he ground out between clenched teeth. "Even if we get this thing working, who's to say the pulse is gonna get any bigger? Ford and Zelenka have twenty minutes before their arteries rupture." He sighed. "Are you sure an EMP will kill this thing?"
"Yes."
John nodded before he stood up from the table. "Alright," he said. "I have an idea."
He promptly turned and ran out of the room. John headed to the closest room that he knew held what could be the answer to the EMP distance. It took him several minutes to get to the nearest Naquadah generator room, describing his plan in its totality on the way there.
"What do you mean 'no'?" he asked Elizabeth, stopping short as he struggled to understand what the woman had said.
"It's too dangerous," the woman answered.
"You'd rather lose a third of our population?" he asked her.
"We're not there yet, Major," Elizabeth said.
He shook his head as he stood behind the generator. "We are there!" he snapped. "Ford and Zelenka are next. The rest of the people in the pier have less than three hours. We know that this has spread to parts of the rest of the city!" He knew it, the city had long ago locked them out of the mainframe, but kept the top of the tower clear. "This is a full blown outbreak! People are gonna keep dying unless we do this!"
"Elizabeth," Camilla put in. "Even if the EMP generator in Rodney's lab managed to get back online, there is no guarantee that it would be able to make a strong enough pulse to take out the nano-virus."
"Can we bring the infected to the generator?" Elizabeth asked.
"We can't," Grodin answered. "The city won't let infected personnel through any of the doors."
"The Major is right," Rodney said tiredly, sounding close to collapsing. "The only way to create an EMP strong enough to wipe out these little guys is to-"
"-to detonate a nuclear explosion in the atmosphere!" Elizabeth snapped. "Yes, I heard the first time!"
"I know it sounds severe, but if the Major was able to overload a Naquadah generator twenty miles above the city, it would be perfectly safe for a radiological standpoint and the ensuing blast would be capable of creating a devastating electromagnetic shockwave," Rodney said. "Definitely enough to knock this virus out."
"Hopefully without destroying all our own computer equipment!" Grodin put in.
"There's a reason human technology has a power button, Peter," Camilla said calmly. "You know an EMP won't affect anything powered down."
There was a pregnant paused before John heard Elizabeth sigh. "OK," she said. "You have a go."
John nodded slowly, understanding the woman's reluctance. He moved quickly, switching the generator off before he unplugged it and made it more compact. He nodded and promptly picked it up, leaving the room.
A-A-A-A-A-A
It took him ten minutes to get the Jumper ready and with that done, he'd raced into the Jumper and set off, piloting the Jumper up and out before heading twenty miles up into the air.
"I'm almost in position," he said, rolling his head, well aware that the helmet of the hazmat was on the seat next to him.
"Understood," Elizabeth said. "Would the EM pulse have any effect on the Puddle Jumper?"
"Doubtful," Camilla said. "It isn't like Tau'ri technology, so it shouldn't."
John nodded. "Either way," he said, "I'm more worried about the shockwave."
"Good luck," Elizabeth said.
He nodded. "You too," he said.
"You're only going to have thirty seconds once you release it before it explodes," Rodney told him. "You need to get as far away as you can."
John paused. "Get as far away from the nuclear explosion as possible," he said as he steadily reached eighteen miles, eighteen and half. "That's good advice, Rodney. Thanks!"
"You're welcome."
He reached twenty miles and he nodded. "I'm releasing the generator… now," he said, flicking the switch and turning the Jumper around pushing the speed limit of the Jumper as far as he could go.
He heard Grodin counting down as he headed back in the direction of the city. Light filled his vision as the Jumper was buffeted by the shockwave. It took several seconds before the light faded and John as able to get the Jumper flying back towards the city.
"Maj…"
"Major…. You….ead me?" Elizabeth's voice finally managed to get through.
He sighed, leaning back in his seat for a moment before he focused on the Jumper once more. "This is Sheppard," he said. "I've cleared the blast, I'm returning home."
"I'm glad to hear it, Major," Elizabeth said.
John nodded and sighed. "Did it work?" he asked.
He wanted to make sure that he didn't have to pull another, similar stunt.
A-A-A-A-A-A
Cam sighed as she stood on the balcony of the main tower, looking out on the sunrise that was just starting. She hadn't slept, had only stopped off in the infirmary long enough to get out of the hazmat suit. The Tok'ra had left for the hidden balcony as soon as she had left the infirmary.
She could feel Kel'an asleep in her mind, her friend long ago having decided to sleep. That little hint of mild normalcy soothing her nerves as she stood on the balcony. Cam resolutely looked away from her hands, swallowing against the thought of the blood that now covered her hands, the innocent blood.
She'd killed before, taken the lives of those who deserved it, taken the lives of the Goa'uld hosts, knowing that there was no possibility of rescuing them. But somehow, it was different now with Peterson's death.
Cam tensed as she heard the door to the balcony hiss open and she stayed frozen in her place. "Was wondering where you got to," she heard Sheppard comment as he walked out to join her.
Cam relaxed slightly and quickly wiped at her eyes as she faced away from the pilot. "Wanted to be alone," she told him.
Sheppard nodded as he stood beside her, leaning against the pillar support of the balcony. "Shouldn't be," he said.
The Tok'ra host arched an eyebrow at him. "And why shouldn't I?" she asked him. "Don't see anyone else staying in groups."
Sheppard shook his head, looking out at the sunrise for a few seconds before he looked at her. "They haven't killed anyone," he said. "You, however, have."
Cam looked away, tensing at that, barely controlling her anger. "Doesn't mean you have to babysit me, Sheppard!" she snapped out. "It's not the first time I've killed."
He nodded, crossing his arms as he continued to look at her. "I know," he agreed. "But Peterson was your first innocent kill."
Cam felt her anger drain. "By Egeria, how do you know what I'm thinking?" she asked him.
Sheppard shrugged. "Happened to me with my first kill," he said. "You've got the advantage that it's not your first kill, but it is with the innocent." He looked at her, tilting his head slightly. "Look, I'm just offering you some company while you sort things out in your own head."
The woman sighed and nodded. "I'd like that," she said finally. "Coffee?" she asked. "My treat."
Elizabeth had set up a system based around the idea of credits that everyone had. A good idea in principle. Cam saw Sheppard's full grin appear at the offer.
"How can I refuse a beautiful woman's offer?" he asked as they both stood up.
Cam rolled her eyes at that. "Be careful, Sheppard," she told him. "My brother might take affront."
"I was only the servant of my country and had I, at any moment, failed to express her unflinching resolve to fight and conquer, I should at once have been rightly cast aside." Winston Churchill
"In a battle all you need to make you fight is a little hot blood and the knowledge that it's more dangerous to lose than to win." George Bernard Shaw
Response to reviews/reviewers:
Okay, how much of an idiot must I be to not see the answer comment button in the reviews section? As of today, I will answer the guest reviews here, in this section and I will directly answer the signed in reviewers through the return comment button.
greyghost4019ho: It is certainly not to late to put your opinion in. I always enjoy listening - or reading as the case may be - to the opinions my readers have. It's certainly nice to hear your opinion.
Silent-reader: I'm not entirely sure if describing Camilla as "freat" is good or not, but I'll most certainly take it as good for now - do let me know. I'm glad that this is enjoyable for you, despite English not being your first. If you wouldn't mind my asking, what is your first language?
I completely understand your opinion of Camilla and Martouf - in fact, if I hadn't made their relationship that of brother and sister, I probably would have leaned in that direction in the first place!
A quick word to my "guest" reviewers, if you want to vote in the poll, please do, there's no limitation on only members voting. I would dearly love to see what all of my readers think.
EDITED 19th November 2013: Correction to grammar as well as chapter title inside the chapter. My apologies if you receive multiple notifications for this chapter.
Signing off for now, Stargatefanatic123