The Immortal Spacemonkey
Chapter 1
Klaxons sounded throughout the base, alerting everyone present that a wormhole was establishing itself through the Stargate. Special Forces troops were running through the corridor, racing to make it to the Gate room in time.
“Seventh chevron locked,” Sergeant Walter Harriman announced from the control room. “Receiving SG-1’s signal, Sir.”
“Open the iris,” Major-General Hammond ordered.
The iris opened to reveal a shimmering pool of ‘water.’ Next, flashes of orange-red energy came lancing through the pool, hitting the walls of the Gate room, leaving behind angry scorch marks. Just after that, the four figures of SG-1 stepped through the event horizon at a rapid clip, as if they were being chased by someone or something.
“Close the iris! Close the damn iris!” Colonel Jack O’Neill yelled. Behind them, the iris immediately slammed shut. A second later, several things loudly splattered against the gate’s cover.
General Hammond hurried into the gate room once the wormhole had disengaged. “What the hell was that? You weren’t supposed to be back for another two days.”
“Lizard-bird things, that spit fire, Sir,” Major Sam Carter gasped, looking wild-eyed about her, grateful to be back on her home planet.
“What?”
“These flying dragon things, General,” Daniel Jackson grimaced, holding his shoulder. “Did you ever see that horrible movie, Reign of Fire? Like that, only smaller and just as nasty.”
“Briefing room, two hours,” the general ordered. “And report to the infirmary.”
~SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1~
The other members of SG-1 had been seen by the medical staff and had left to get their selves cleaned up before the briefing with the general, leaving Daniel to the expert care of Dr. Janet Fraiser.
“Damn, Daniel,” she swore. “That must have hurt.”
“You think?” he said as he took off his ruined black t-shirt and tossed it into the garbage. “One of those freaky dragon things got too close to me with its fire breath.”
“Luckily you heal fast,” Janet replied, bandaging up the already healed shoulder wound, ignoring, to the best of her abilities, Daniel‘s nicely muscled chest. Cold shower, cold shower, cold shower, she repeated to herself over and over.
“Yeah, well, I still have to act hurt and that is more annoying than anything,” Daniel grumbled.
“Get over it baby,” she said, slightly smacking him on his supposed injury.
“Hey, isn’t being mean to your patients a violation of the Hippocratic Oath or something,” he protested, laughing.
“Like you’re a real patient,” she shot back, laughing. “Go take a shower, you smell.”
“Yes Ma’am!” he said, flipping a jaunty half-salute.
~SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1~
Daniel managed to take a shower while keeping his unnecessary bandage from getting wet. He quickly changed his clothes, shoving his old, smelly ones into the group’s laundry bag. Since they did not tend to leave the base in uniform, they had been doing their uniform laundry as a team since his return from Abydos and the creation of SG-1. He also made sure his holdout knife was concealed in its sheath that he kept at the small of his back. It was an old habit; he never went anywhere, even on the most secure base on the planet, without some sort of weapon.
He paused in the commissary to grab a much needed cup of life-giving elixir - also know as coffee, before he headed up to the briefing room. There he found Jack, Sam, and Teal’c explaining how SG-1 managed to stumble upon a massive nest in the cave they had determined to hold Naquada. When Jack managed to step on one of the sleeping forms, the creature’s scream had awakened the rest of the horde. After that, the team had been force to flee from the cave and back to the Stargate. The creatures had spit something that smelled like rotten meat and burned with the intensity of a small sun. Daniel, who had been the closest to a flame-bolt, could testify to that fact.
“Okay people. It looks like PX7-448 is an off limits world for now. In the mean time, you have a week before your next scheduled mission. I want you to take the next two days off, in addition to your regular two-day leave. You are not to be on base for that time. If I see or hear of any of you anywhere near the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, I’ll personally kick you out of here,” Hammond ordered. “Teal’c, that includes you. Get what you need and get out of here.”
“Yes Sir,” Jack gleefully said, happy to have the extra time off. He really needed to catch up on the Simpsons; the winter/spring season had started and he had missed several episodes already.
“Dismissed.”
Sam and Daniel were about to protest, but shut their mouths when they saw Jack glare at them. Instead, they nodded their thanks and quickly departed the briefing room.
General Hammond simply shook his head. SG-1, he was sure, was going to be the death of him. Their uncanny ability to have a mission go horribly wrong was amazing. He was incredibly grateful was Dr. Jackson’s shoulder wound was the only serious injury this time. Even that, he reflected, was not that serious. He would have bet money easily that the injury was already healed.
The general was, aside from Dr. Fraiser, the only person to know about Daniel Jackson’s unusual abilities. He felt that it was an honor that the man trusted him enough to confine such a monumental secret in him. He knew that Daniel was not very trusting of others with such powerful information and to reveal that he was an Immortal was a sign of absolute trust, one that he was not about to violate, even on the pain of death.
Oh well, he thought. It’s just another crazy day at the SGC.