"Unscheduled off-world activation! Unscheduled off-world activation in progress!"

'DAMN!' thought General George Hammond, Commander-in-Chief of the entire SGC complex, as he leapt to his feet and dashed from behind his desk, 'Now what?' He strode swiftly out of his office and bolted for the stairs, compelled onward by the blaring klaxon that blasted his ears and the tense feeling of foreboding that grew in the pit of his stomach. He reached the top steps, grabbed onto the railing, and took them two at a time in his hurry.

Switching into total command mode, he entered the Control Room at a jog. "What is it?" he demanded briskly of the young, female technician on duty, as he resumed his customary position in front of the open blast-doors overlooking the magnificent Stargate. "I don't know, Sir, the--oh--it's all right, I'm picking up a remote GDO signal. It's SG-1, Sir." Hammond felt his brow furrow at the news. SG-1 had only embarked yesterday, and wasn't due back another forty-eight hours. A repetition of his earlier thought flashed through his mind. "Open the Iris, and get a medical team down here, stat!" he ordered, turning on his heel and going down to meet the incoming travelers. He assumed that if SG-1 had returned already, there had to be an explanation, and it had better be a damned good one. The technician's practiced, "Yes, Sir." followed him as he made his way down.

Cold, piercingly intense darkness, a distinct impression of being 'elsewhere'….. Then, bright light, solidity and renewed awareness of one's body…..

Amauri groaned, shifted, and waited for her muscles to wake up. From close by, she heard a very loud alarm blaring, and, through closed lids, saw periodic flashes of a luminescent red light. Taking a slow breath, she willed her eyes open. The monstrous sight that greeted her sent up a red flag in her brain, and, in a delayed reaction, she gave a shriek of panic. Before anyone could stop her, she started to thrash wildly, flailing blindly, trying to pry herself from O'Neill's grasp. Jack, still slightly disoriented, and therefore unprepared, was thrown off-balance by Amauri's unexpected assault, and though he strained to regain his footing, he could not. He fell backwards, yelling, and hit the mesh steel ramp with an audible 'clang,' dropping Amauri as he went. She landed just as hard, only on her side, and let out a grunt of pain upon impact.

Then all hell broke loose. Amauri, though stunned by the fall, nevertheless spotted the horde of armed guardsmen that spurted forward on Hammond's command. Taking in only the brandished weapons because of her recent trauma, Amauri raised her hand, eyes wide and frightened. Jack, getting up from the ramp, saw the gesture, and recognized its significance.

"Jeez!" he cried, "Hit the dirt!" he yelled, as a great plume of flame shot from Amauri's outstretched hand---and exploded several feet above the men's heads after ramming a wall and scorching it.

Then followed a moment of shocked stillness during which everyone waited with baited breath as the dust settled. "Colonel O'Neill, who or what the Hell was that?" Hammond demanded after he got over his speechlessness. With a sigh, Jack said darkly. "A very traumatized, very sick little girl did that, General, Sir." 'And I'd bet she's not the only one that's traumatized now, either,' he thought, turning around to calm Amauri, but--where was Amauri? "Shit," he cursed, "Where'd she go?"

"Uh, Jack?" Daniel said tentatively, pointing a finger at the ground. Jack glanced down and saw a telltale smear of blood going down the ramp and leading behind the Stargate. It looked as though Amauri had had to drag herself there in her hurry to get away. 'Oh, no!' O'Neill groaned inwardly. "Colonel?" Hammond asked, concerned by the expression on the man's face. With another sigh, Jack turned toward his C.O. "Uh, General, I think it'd be a good idea to get a medical team down here."

"Already present and accounted for, Colonel." A new voice piped up from the now open door of the room. Doctor Janet Fraiser, C.M.O of the SGC complex, entered, followed closely by several others wearing white lab-coats and wheeling gurneys. Her suit was crisp, her sandy brown hair pulled back in a loosely attractive bun and her manner utterly professional as she strode purposefully for the waiting group. "What've we got?" she asked crisply, then stopped short at the sight of the bloodstains on the floor.

"What happened?" she breathed, brown eyes softening slightly before she turned to the Colonel, more businesslike. "Sir?" Rather than answer her directly, O'Neill silently signaled for her to follow him by crooking a finger, which she did, turning the corner at his side.

They found Amauri huddled in a tight crouch against the far wall, her injured limb splayed sideways before her, clutching her good leg to her chest with both arms and whimpering quietly into her lap. The way in which she was rocking back and forth told O'Neill that she did not realize she had company.

He exchanged a quick glance with the Doc, whose expressive eyes mirrored his own concern, before he stepped forward hesitantly. "Amauri?" he called softly. She jerked her head up and stared at him with a frenzied look on her face as she tried to wedge herself further back into the corner. But she knew at last that she had nowhere else to go , and so she held herself painfully still instead, wariness pronounced on her features.

"Whoa, take it easy, Kiddo. You know me. It's Jack, remember? I'm not gonna hurt you," he coaxed, stepping forward once again. This elicited an abrupt reaction from Amauri. She whipped her already seared and blistered hand in front of her, and held it forth, like a shield. The next words she spoke were incomprehensible to both adults, but were filled with desperation--and a warning.

"Hey, watch where you're pointin' that thing!" Jack said quietly, still trying to calm her. "Jack," she rasped, her voice rough and frightened, but her eyes determined. "Okay, okay, I'll stay away. But no one's gonna hurt you, ya know? Relax a little." As he had been talking, Janet had come up alongside him. "Colonel, does she understand what you're saying?" to which he replied, "Oh, yeah, she definitely understands." he said without turning his head.

Amauri looked at him a long moment, eyes filled with distrust again. She lifted her hand, but this time to point at the crowd of waiting guardsmen--whom had not yet been told to stand down by General Hammond--asking something in a questioning inflection as she did so. The words might as well have been gibberish, but their meaning was clearly, "What about them?"

Jack turned to look over his shoulder and back again, "Who---them? Nah. I know they look pretty scary with those big guns of theirs, but they're actually really nice guys. Most of 'em are good friends of mine, as a matter of fact."

Amauri hesitated for a second, undecided, then the terror she had been battling descended upon her again, and she winced. "Ni!" she cried, pulling herself back into the fetal ball, shaking.

"Oh, fer crying out loud!" Jack murmured exasperatedly, rising. He went over to the General and said, in a quiet, confidential tone that only Hammond could hear, "General, she's really skittish. I think we might have more luck getting her to come out if there weren't thirty guns pointed at her." With that, O'Neill turned and raised his voice, "Lower your weapons, you won't need 'em. She's friendly, just a little freaked." None of the addressed did anything but glance uncertainly at the General. "You heard the man!" Hammond barked, a bit impatiently, "Do it."

With a flurry of precise, honed movement, the barrels of the guns went down, and as one, the assembled airmen stepped back, though none of them looked any the more at ease because of the change.

Swiftly, O'Neill nodded his gratitude, and, bringing himself back to the nerve-wracking scene, turned to business again. As he strode over, he spied Janet leaning forward, her countenance one of compassion, and trying her hand at diplomacy.

"Honey?" Amauri considered her, curiosity mingling with caution as she attempted to discern whether this new, feminine yet commanding presence was friend or foe.
"Sweetheart, you're very sick, and that wound looks bad. If you come out, I could treat you and your little friend, but I can't help if you won't let me near enough to do anything. Please, it's okay. Don't be afraid---let me help you." So far, the tactic was unsuccessful.

"Here, Doc, lemme give it a shot," Jack mumbled so quietly that Amauri could not detect it. He turned towards the cowering child, and squatted down to be on level with her. "Look, Kiddo, those guns--all gone, see? You're safe here. No one here is going to chase, hunt, or harm you in any way, I swear. If you let us, we can help you. You don't have to be scared, Amauri." Then he looked about conspiratorially before adding, "If I were you, I'd listen to the Doc. She's a smart lady and she knows what she's talkin' about. Trust me. She can make it so your leg feels three-hundred percent better." Amauri looked doubtful. "No lie," Jack continued. "She can fix you up and help the baby. What do you say?" He could see her resolve wavering and gave a little extra push. "Trust me. I won't let anything bad happen to you." The girl looked close to tears, but slowly shook her head, her fear plain on her face. O'Neill didn't give up or get annoyed. "Come on. Here, Kiddo, take my hand." This he extended in reassurance, and for hers he waited.

Amauri's huge eyes stared at him, then traveled slowly up and locked onto his fierce, patient, gentled warrior's gaze. She gripped it with her mind, maintaining the contact as though it were a lifeline that would keep her from falling, or her courage from faltering.

Focusing on his visage alone, and ignoring all other activity, Amauri thrust herself forward enough to snatch his outstretched hand, but though she did her best to heave herself to her feet, she could not. She groaned shrilly as her weakened, bleeding leg crumpled beneath her, and she swayed dangerously. Securing his hold, the Colonel stooped to meet her, jerking her quickly toward him as he caught her and swept his arm behind the girl's back to curl protectively around Amauri's waist. This served the dual purpose of holding her upright and supporting her weight, as well as allowing her to reclaim her dignity.

" 'Ere we go," Jack grunted, pulling her up, " 'Atta girl. Hang on, I got ya." She clung to him with one arm as Janet took the other, and the trio made their slow and awkward progress on to join the assembled group, Amauri's gaze still darting around warily, as she hung back out of nerves. The others ahead moved aside, clearing a path as Jack neared them to allow him access to the gurney on which he could lay Amauri. "O.K, kid. Ready?" Without pausing for a reply, O'Neill renewed his grip, said, "One, two, three!" and lifted Amauri up to rest on the padded metal surface.

By this time, the girl was looking pretty out of it, but she tracked the Colonel with her eyes as his gently pushed her flat and helped Janet to adjust her legs until they were straight. "There," Janet whispered, "Now." She glanced at Sam and the General, and then at her team. "Let's get these two down to the infirmary." O'Neill made as if to step away to give them room, but at that moment, Amauri's arm lunged out to seize his hand, pulling him closer. Over-bright, glazed orbs gazed plaintively up t him. "Jack," she whispered. She said nothing else, but the word, 'Stay' rang clearly in his mind. The girl seemed awful; her face was pasty, lips gray, eyeballs flitting in her head under fluttering lids. But despite this marked deterioration, her purchase on him remained strong.

He looked startled, and glanced questioningly at Janet. "I guess you'll be coming with us, Sir." she said, smiling gently. Jack's eyes met the General's, and his Commanding Officer silently nodded his permission for O'Neill to accompany the entourage down to the Medical Wing.

Before taking their leave, the procession of the good Doctor, her orderlies, the Colonel, Major Carter, and, of course, the two patients--one traveling via a gurney, the other carried--readjusted themselves around the metal cart so as to be able to make the best amount of headway in the halls. With the dual intention of facilitating the progress of the little band and placing herself where she could discreetly examine the patient, Janet took up the position directly opposite Jack's. To her slight surprise, Fraiser found that she was being watched by the prone figure on the mobile bed, but the girl's expression as she observed the attractive physician wasn't one of fear so much as one of drowsy curiosity, as though she were too drained to be afraid anymore. The Doctor returned the gaze and gave a small, reassuring smile as the group started off--rumbling, it seemed--down the corridor.

Not for the first time, and surely not for the last, Amauri wished she could communicate in the alien language, because she really wanted to know where they were going, but it would take several days for her to amass enough vocabulary, gleaned from overheard conversation, to make herself properly understood. So, seeing as she could do nothing else, Amauri let the strange crowd cart her off to wherever they were headed, while she took the opportunity to inspect those around her.

The Chief Medical Officer had gorgeous, softly sculpted features, offset by expressive, coffee brown eyes that looked just as capable of glaring as they were of showing tenderness. She had fine, gently arched eyebrows, and the pleasingly calm, clear-headed demeanor that was often needed in her profession. She had an honest face and pretty smile that seemed to give off waves of empathy to someone in dire straights. Yet, the most amazing thing about her was not the personal, sympathetic bedside manner she exhibited, nor the steadiness and certainty with which she guided the gurney, but was, instead, the sense of authority that positively radiated off of her short-statured, graceful personage. She knew precisely what she was doing the entire time, and unconsciously made it clear to everyone in the way she moved. Amauri could hardly help but feel drawn to this formidable woman.

Asharp flash of pain startled Amauri out of her musings as the gurney rolled a little too roughly over a small bump that preceded the entryway. The moment of discomfort must have been readily apparent on her face, or perhaps she had let out an exclamation of which she was unaware, because Janet glanced at her swiftly before commanding to those ahead, "All right, take it slow, people. We don't want to jostle her any more than we have to." She then reached down to touch Amauri's shoulder lightly. "Don't worry, Honey, it's not far now. We'll be there soon." Even as she watched, the girl's eyes rolled dangerously for a moment before she regained her bearings and nodded slightly to show she understood.

Finally, after what seemed like eons to Amauri, the gurney was gently pulled to a halt in the middle of a room, which, judging from the row of neatly made, vacant beds and the gleaming surgical and diagnostic equipment that was visible throughout the space, was the infirmary. Fraiser had the orderlies stop at the side of the nearest cot. "Colonel, if you would, please," she said, taking up one end of the sheet upon which Amauri lay and gesturing him to take up the other. "Sure," Jack acquiesced with a slight shrug before doing so. "O.K," Janet ordered, that air of authority palpable around her, "On my count." Their grips tightened on the sheet, Amauri's heart constricted. "One, two, three!" with a single decisive movement, O'Neill and Fraiser lifted the sheet, along with its occupant, off the cart and transferred it smoothly to the softer more comfortable hospital bed.

The girl's head lolled as she was moved, her brow breaking into a sweat, and a weak breath of a groan escaped her lips when she was set down. For a moment, Amauri's eyes drifted shut in relief but opened again when Janet asked, "Okay, can you tell me your name, Honey?" For a time, Amauri just looked at her, trying to persuade her lips and voice to function. She finally managed to rasp, "Amauri," a gesture that seemed to exhaust her greatly. "Hi, Amauri. I'm Doctor Fraiser," Janet said as she began pulling out her stethoscope and adjusting it over her ears. Amauri struggled to say the name with which this woman was identified, "Doc--Doctir Fay--Fraizir?" She asked.

"Doc-tor Frai-ser." Jack supplied, exaggerating the syllables to make it easier for her to pronounce. She tried again, and came up with an approximation even less accurate than any of the previous attempts. "Okay, well, what about Janet, then, instead? Would you mind if she called you by your first name, Doc?" O'Neill quipped, throwing her an amused glance. Janet grinned, "I think I can live with that. Just lie still," she coaxed, looking back at the girl, but she had her eyes closed again. "So much for the stethoscope." Janet said dryly, reaching efficiently out with the first two fingers of one hand to check her pulse manually at the wrist instead.

"Uh-oh, she's got arrhythmia! O.K., let's get her hooked up to the monitor, now! Give me a hand!" Janet ordered the two ever-present nurses, taking charge of the situation. The two medical aides set to work at once, while Janet sterilized a syringe to take a blood sample.

Once the machinery was operational, the Doctor came up beside Amauri's inert figure and reached for her naked forearm. The girl roused slightly as the needle pierced her skin and the blood was drawn, but she made no move to open her eyes. Janet kept her attention on the patient as she handed the full vial to the assistant awaiting it. "Take this to the lab to be analyzed and screened. Get the results to me A.S.A.P."

"Yes, Ma'am," replied the bio technician, and she hurried from the room. This done, Fraiser turned to the concerned Colonel by the girl's bedside. "Her heart rate is still a little irregular… " She trailed off, thinking. Abruptly, she turned to the remaining nurse. "All right, get me--uh-- .1 CC of Eppi! Let's see if we can't get her pulse to even out a bit." The aide nodded and readied a syringe. She then moved to the girl's side, found the appropriate vein on the surface of Amauri's elbow, and curtly slapped the tender spot, using two fingers to increase its visibility. She administered the injection and then stepped back, allowing Fraiser to take over as the aide faded into the background once again.

Expertly taking the cue, Doctor Fraiser turned slightly to regard her anxious C.O, whose features were taut with worry, and whose demeanor was dark and brooding. "All right, Colonel, I think it would be easier for everyone involved if we did her M.R.I and C.A.T scans before she regains full consciousness. Judging from her adverse reaction to the Gate-Room, I doubt that she'd take kindly to waking up and finding herself strapped to a table, being scanned by a chamber that she knows nothing about. As it is, this wound looks pretty clean and well-wrapped. You said that Sam did this?" She turned to glance at Carter, but it was O'Neill who answered with a nod, "Yes, Ma'am, that she did," he quipped, hoping that he sounded more at ease than he felt. The unchanged gravity in Janet's expression told him that he'd failed.

"Well, it looks good at any rate. I think re-examining it can wait a few minutes." Fraiser gazed at one of her nurses. "In the meantime, why don't you give this little one a preliminary exam and then see if you can grab some infant formula from supplies? I'll pick up some more tonight, after I finish working on these two." Fraiser gestured to the children. The nurse agreed quietly, before starting to fulfill her task. Then, with a decided air of purpose, Janet turned to the Colonel and second aide, who had since returned from her errand by this point, and said crisply, "Right. Let's go do those scans."

With that, she summoned several orderlies to push the hospital bed down the hall and strode out of the infirmary, as O'Neill, with a final, bracing glance at Carter, followed close behind.