Next morning, in the commissary, SFs and SG team members were quietly eating meals, doing reports, and generally lazing around before they went offworld. Suddenly the doors banged open and three blurs whizzed into the room, past the counters (vast amounts of food, especially dessert, suddenly going missing) and over to a table where they shifted into Jack, Sam and Daniel.
"Well that was the fastest we've ever been served food before." Daniel commented, adding salt to his mountain of chips and reaching for the ketchup bottle, which spontaneously ruptured when he gripped it. Covering the nearby tables (and indeed the ceiling) with tomato sauce.
"Sorry guys." He called to everyone around them, most of whom quickly moved tables. He wiped the ketchup off his hands with a napkin, then grabbed another one and cleaned the table up faster than onlookers could blink.
"Just think of how much time we can save with these." Sam said, dipping into the tray of blue jello she'd taken from the counter. SG-1 seemed to have mutually decided that in the interests of enjoyment and safety they wouldn't use their increased speed whilst just hanging out, eating or talking however, because it made life so much less interesting when you could have an entire discussion in five seconds flat, or finish a meal in three! Besides, food still had to obey the laws of physics, especially momentum.
"Yeah, perhaps I might get round to doing some paperwork." Jack said, taking a huge bite out of a burger, then looked at his teammates.
"Nah." They all said together, burst out laughing and tucked in. Food disappearing quickly even without their increased speed, their increased metabolisms meant that they were famished.
Suddenly Sam started choking wildly, the spasms running through her body, her eyes wide with shock and her face turning red.
"SAM!" Daniel cried.
"CARTER!" Jack cried at the same time, rushing round to her side of the table and grabbing her, administering the Heimlich to his suffocating 2IC. She retched up a small amount of blue liquid and the end of her spoon, which buried itself in the opposite wall like a .50 caliber bullet1, making a neat hole in the report one of the marines had been holding up, he whimpered as he ran out of the room, nursing the scratch where the ballistic cutlery had caught him.
"Thanks, Sir." She said, gasping for breath.
"Your welcome Carter." Jack replied, slightly shocked at what had happened.
"Just goes to show." Said Daniel. "We're not invincible, even with these things." He waved the arm that he was wearing his armband on. He looked down, and saw that he had left finger shaped dents in the table where he'd gripped when Sam had started coughing.
"Uh, you can let go now Sir." Sam said pointedly to jack, who was still gripping her round the middle, though secretly she wished he could stay holding her.
"Oh! Yes, of course." Jack said; throwing his arms back, away from his regs-ridden 2IC, cursing his luck, though he secretly wished he could hold onto her forever, of course her choking to death didn't fit into that vision of happiness.
"SG-1 to the briefing room." Sgt Harriman's voice came over the tannoy.
"Finish up kids." Jack said, and they quickly (but not for them) finished their food and speeded off to find out what Hammond wanted. Minus lift time it only took them thirty seconds.
Meanwhile Teal'c was in his quarters, kelnoriming. He was troubled; his friends had achieved great strength and speed, desirable of any warrior. But it was embedded in him that a warrior's true strength should come from within, not from enhanced technology. A weapon was just an extension of a warrior's body, enabling him to affect an enemy at a distance, but he still has to be a skilled combatant, and trained to sue a weapon. But these armbands gave strength and speed without discipline; in fact they leeched from his friends the discipline they already had, making them reckless.
'I must consult with Master Bra'tac.' He mused. His wise master would know what to do; he was and always had been a strong pillar of wisdom and decision to lean on when Teal'c was in doubt. The tannoy stirred him from his meditation and he quickly performed his daily ablutions and headed for the briefing room, at a considerably more dignified pace than the rest of SG-1.
1For none military geeks, a .50 caliber bullet is a heavy machine gun round half an inch in diameter.
