Rounding the corner at a run, Teal'c slid to a halt in front of the monument, yards ahead of the trailing Lieutenants. Nothing had changed from when they'd explored this section previously, but according to Major Warren the device Lieutenant Peterson carried indicated that something was different.

Striding forward, Teal'c circled the large stone obelisk, its shiny, dark surface reflecting his image as he examined it from all sides. He could hear the pounding steps of the approaching members of SG-3—some following behind him, others arriving from a different direction.

Its square base was nearly ten feet wide on each side, the vertical lines in its surface the only marking. It had been crafted years ago, but had not weathered as the rest of the city had. Instead, it seemed to rise from the ruins as if created and reconstructed from the very base elements of the destruction around him.

"Did you find anything?" Lieutenant Bosco asked as he ground to a halt, a cloud of dust accompanying him, Lieutenant Collins not far behind.

"I have not."

"What are you looking for?"

Teal'c turned to face the young Lieutenant, his eyebrow rising. "If I knew, I would not be looking."

Lieutenant Bosco's face reddened and he glanced away, his eyes looking anywhere except at the Jaffa. Teal'c continued his progress, his hands sliding across the stone's cold surface. Even the sides of the obelisk that stood in the sun refused to hold the heat, the stone obstinate in even the smallest detail.

The radio in his vest pocket squawking as it came to life, Major Warren's voice echoing across the dusty square. "Lieutenant Bosco, report. What's your status?"

Teal'c ignored the call, continuing his inspection of the monument, allowing the Lieutenant to respond, pushing the quiet muttering of Lieutenant Bosco to the background.

Major Warren's voice, though, broke through his concentration.

"Peterson says the energy levels are increasing and he's been able to narrow them down to the exact middle of the city. He thinks the readings are coming from the monument. We're coming up on your six, but it might be a good idea to give yourself some distance."

The young Lieutenant appeared at his elbow several beats later. "Sir, we are dropping back—"

"You may proceed to do as Major Warren requested. I, however, am remaining here."

"But—"

Teal'c turned a steely gaze on the Lieutenant. "Proceed to the coordinates Major Warren provided. I am going to continue my scrutiny of this object."

After a brief pause, the other man nodded, sliding away from the Jaffa, his boots barely raising a dust cloud.

The seams of the stone before him were not natural but manmade and of a much higher quality than anything he'd seen before, their very appearance nearly blending into the surface.

Major Warren's voice broke his concentration once again. "Teal'c, come in."

He closed his eyes briefly before toggling the button on his radio. "This is Teal'c."

"Lieutenant Bosco reports that you are remaining within the blast zone. I do not think that's wise."

"Blast zone? Do you anticipate an incendiary event occurring in this location?"

"There's energy building in the area."

"That does not necessarily indicate a destructive occurrence."

"Yes, but—"

"I will continue to gather information from this position. Please advise me when you have additional information to support your assertion."

Several minutes passed before Major Warren and Lieutenant Peterson finally joined his side, the older of the two looking aggravated, but holding his tongue. The Lieutenant was waving the device Captain Carter normally carried. Catching a glimpse of the screen, Teal'c noticed the energy levels of which Major Warren had spoke. They were indeed high, much more so than any he'd seen on a previous planet, and the source was this obelisk.

When the stone shuddered slightly under this hand, Teal'c stepped back several paces, his eyes scanning the surface. Something was happening. The nearest seam in the monument's surface had changed, a dim light beginning to shine along the length of the crease, ending several feet above their heads.

Without warning, the device in Lieutenant Peterson's hand began buzzing and chirping, the warning signals loud in the silence of the ruins. But even before Major Warren could order them to retreat, the seam expanded. The opening of a doorway before them was much more monumental, however, especially when the missing members of SG-1 stumbled out, shielding their eyes from the glare of the mid-day sun.

Teal'c rushed forward, offering his support to an obviously ailing O'Neill, allowing Daniel Jackson to receive a shoulder of his own in the form of Lieutenant Bosco. Captain Carter, while steady on her feet, looked drained, exhaustion lining her features.

Major Warren finally broke the stunned silence. "Where did you come from? Are you alright?"

Captain Carter nodded wearily, settling herself on a nearby stone where Teal'c had placed O'Neill, allowing him to lean against the half-wall of a collapsed building. "We'll be okay after we get some rest," she said, her eyes drifting toward the silent form of O'Neill. "We're going to need a decontamination team to meet us though."

"What?"

Daniel Jackson allowed Lieutenant Peterson to set him on the edge of a nearby stone. "We've been healed of whatever injuries we received, but they gave Jack some kind of a disease, a virus or something. He said it might be contagious, so we need to be extra careful. I think the woman healed him pretty thoroughly, but—"

"Healing? Virus? Where the hell have you been?"

O'Neill's deadpan reply ended any further questions. "Hell, Warren. That's exactly where we were."

Doctor Janet Frasier rushed to the Gate room, her bulky hazmat suit more a hindrance than an aid. They'd gotten the message from SG-3 that they'd found SG-1, but there was a problem. It looked like the Colonel might have contracted a very contagious and terminal disease—a disease for which he might have already received a cure.

She shook her head, trying to sort out her thoughts, but instead relying on her training to get her mind into place. She had a job to do.

The sight of the open wormhole greeted her as the second wave of travelers stepped through. Lieutenant Collins, the first one to exit, was standing at the base of the ramp watching as Teal'c helped a disheveled Colonel down the ramp. Lieutenant Peterson followed with Sam, while another double-slurp indicated the arrival of Lieutenant Bosco and Daniel. A few beats later, Major Warren followed, the gate shutting down behind him.

"Welcome back. SG-1 and SG-3," said General Hammond from his position in the control room. "We've cleared the hallways as you requested and will initiate decontamination procedures once Doctor Frasier escorts you to the infirmary. While we do not think you are infected, we are not taking any chances."

Warren nodded, allowing himself and his team to be surround by red-suited medical personnel. "We'll be fine, Sir. I know Doctor Frasier will take care of all of us." Turning, he shot Frasier a brief, but knowing look. "No needles for me, right Doc?"

She couldn't help but smile as she ushered the teams through the door. Until the tests cleared SG-1 and SG-3 they were going to end up seeing a lot of each other. Might as well grin and bear it.

General Hammond strode down the halls of the SGC, his passage through the empty corridors a frightening reminder of what he'd just witnessed. SG-1 had come home, but as possible carriers of a contagious disease. He'd ordered the halls cleared and the decontamination teams had already begun their work along the path the SG teams had taken to the infirmary. Until their work was complete, the base would stay silent, the SGC personnel ordered to remain at their posts until the all clear could be given.

For him, it was different. He needed more information and the only place to find it was in the infirmary isolation rooms.

He'd taken a different path than he normally would, avoiding the more direct route the SG teams had taken, his steps leading him past scientific offices and departments not often visited, the quiet hum of voices and equipment spilling into the hallways as the scientists continued to work, continued to make discoveries. The ideas that came out of this small stretch of hallway were enough to fill volumes and volumes of textbooks. Once the Stargate project was finally made public some of these scientists would be remembered for all time in the annals of history.

Sometimes Hammond was surprised that some of theses civilians would give up promising secular careers and fame to work on this project, their efforts possibly never to come into the public consciousness. While the SGC paid relatively well, many of the men and women could be much, much wealthier working on the outside. Instead, they chose to join the program and remain here. He'd never met one of these scientists who, once inside, decided to leave voluntarily. For them, the work and the discoveries was more than enough payment.

Rounding the last corner, he opened the door into the observation room, the glassed-in room overlooking the activity of the small room below. Doctor Frasier had set up eight beds as soon as SG-3 had called in with the particulars. The two teams would remain here until the Doctor could perform the tests she needed to clear them all.

They would all leave here eventually—either on their feet or on their back—but the SGC would be safe from infection.

Nurses swarmed around the room, their red hazmat suits making them seem other-worldly. While SG-3 were getting a quick check right now thanks to the four nurses in their section of the room, Doctor Frasier had focused her attention on SG-1 with a delegation of six nurses at her side.

Teal'c had finally taken a seat, allowing a single nurse to draw blood samples, but his eyes never left his teammates, watching as they were tended to. Captain Carter and Doctor Jackson had two nurses attending each of them, trying to convince them to lay back and let them do their work.

Colonel O'Neill at the far end of the room, normally the most vocal of the group, was strangely silent. When one of the nurses stepped away carrying several vials of blood Hammond saw why.

O'Neill was out cold.

Hammond had watched this synchronized dance before, the movements letting his mind process the little information he had, putting everything in the right compartment before deciding what questions needed to be asked to fill in the holes.

Bringing himself back to the present Hammond realized Doctor Jackson had spotted him in the observation room and offered a hopeful but worried smile. The archeologist returned it, but turned back to the drama at the end of the room where everyone else's eyes were focused.

Jackson must have said something because Doctor Frasier turned briefly from her patient glancing up to the observation desk and shaking her head, indicated that it would still be a while before she could brief him. Sighing, Hammond settled down on the nearest chair determined to wait until the Doctor was ready, however long it took.

Sam tried to see around the nurse, twisting her neck to get a better view of what was going on at the other end of the room. The beeping of several machines was annoying, each out of sync with the other. And it wasn't bad enough that Nurse Marie Miller kept getting in her way, but Nurse Anne Matthews who was trying unsuccessfully to get a blood sample from Daniel kept moving, blocking her line of sight.

She couldn't win.

Every now and then she'd grab a quick glimpse of the Colonel's pale face, but then her view was quickly cut off. She was about ready to scream if someone didn't tell her something soon. He'd insisted on walking, albeit with the help of Teal'c, down to the infirmary and he'd been fine until about ten steps from his destination when his legs had just given out from under him.

The Jaffa had caught him before he hit the floor, rushing ahead to place him on the far bed as Janet indicated, pushing forward to check his vitals.

Sam had heard a few mutterings coming from the Doctor before she was guided to her own bed and accosted by the nursing staff. No matter how much she argued that she was fine, they insisted on poking and prodding her.

But now, even after the majority of the initial panic had settled down, Sam was still finding it hard to get a straight answer—or any answer for that matter. Sighing, she allowed Marie to push her gently to lie back on the bed, the woman's smile a sharp contrast to her earlier vampire tendencies.

Daniel, positioned closer to the action, had been a little more cooperative with the staff, allowing them to filter in and out taking samples and muttering platitudes. His front row seat, however, did not give him much more information.

A red-suited figure stopped briefly at Daniel's bedside, speaking a few words before moving on to her. It took Sam several moments to realize who it was; the hazmat suits making everyone appear the same. It was Janet's light touch on her arm that completed the picture. Offering Sam a tired smile through the hazmat's faceplate, Janet gave her the news she wanted to hear. "The Colonel's sleeping. Once we get everyone's tests back we'll know more. Right now I need you to rest and let us do our jobs. You'll be out of here soon."

"Janet," Sam said, snagging her friend's hand as she went to move away, turning the Doctor back around to face her. "That alien healed him, but he…we didn't think he was going to make it."

Janet patted her arm, a smile still on her lips. "He looks okay, Sam. He's resting like you should be. I think he just overdid it. Don't worry, I'm going to make sure he's back to one hundred percent before letting him step one foot out of my infirmary—no matter how much he grouses and yells."

Sam chuckled, knowing the truth of the Doctor's words. Janet stepped away, pausing a few moments at Teal'c's side before exiting the isolation room. Sighing, Sam sank deeper into the infirmary mattress and closed her eyes, letting nearly two days of worry, pain, and exhaustion wash over her.

They were home. It was time to rest.

The three members of SG-1 slept for two days straight before finally stirring. The blood tests had come back clear on everyone—both SG-1 and SG-3 Janet had kicked Major Warren and his team out, leaving the slumbering SG-1 with its Jaffa guardian.

Her staff had been able to forego the hazmat suits once the results of the blood tests were confirmed. While the hazmat suits had been a necessity, something to protect them from a possible unknown and unidentified contagion, not being able to really feel her patients' skin left her without a very valuable tool to gage their health.

Yes, she had the most state-of-the-art equipment at her disposal, but there was something much more basic, much more natural about a real human touch.

Smiling to herself, Janet straightened the edge of the Colonel's blankets, smoothing out some of the wrinkles along the side of the bed before glancing up to the monitors at the head of the bed.

She wasn't expecting to see his hazy brown eyes looking at her.

"Colonel," she said, a little flustered since she had been taking her time during her rounds.

He smiled weakly at her, rolling his head to the side. "Hey Doc," he replied, his voice quiet.

"Hey, yourself." Moving closer, she reached to the small side table and poured a cup-full of water, sealing it with a lid, and stabbing a straw through the hole in the center before tilting it so he could slip a little of the liquid. Once he quenched his thirst, she sat the cup on the table, her hand immediately grasping his nearest wrist, her fingers poised perfectly over his pulse point. "How are you feeling, Sir? Any pain? Discomfort?"

He shook his head, his eyes glinting a little. "Nothing apart from the extra plumbing."

His pulse was strong and steady, his comments clearly showing he was completely cognizant of his surroundings. "Soon, Colonel."

"Daniel? Carter? Teal'c?"

"Sleeping at the moment. Teal'c is kel'no'reeming, but he's here too," she said, indicating the other figures in the dimly lit room with a quick glance. "You're all clear of whatever virus or contagion you mentioned to your team on the planet. I released SG-3 yesterday. Once you rest up, you'll all be free to go. I can't find anything wrong with you to keep you here."

"So, we can go?"

"Once you rest."

"Been resting."

Janet smiled as she watched the Colonel's eyes droop a little—and this time not from any of her usual concoctions. "And you're going to rest some more I think."

She patted his hand as he drifted off to sleep once again, moving to the next bed to make her observations, already sure in the knowledge that they were going to be all right.

Jack rubbed a hand over his neck as he strode though the SGC, his leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. He had one more stop to make before he could make the final trek home.

Tonight he just wanted to look at the Gate before he left the base—without an audience. The briefing this afternoon had been tough, in a way even more difficult than experiencing it firsthand. But, they'd all made it through and he'd seen both Daniel and Carter off hours ago, making sure they actually signed out and left the facility.

Hammond had given them a three-day weekend to recoup before starting fresh on Monday. There were a few missions scheduled for SG-1 and they'd get the chance to look them over before they headed out.

But that was next week.

Sneaking into a rarely-used stairwell, Jack eased himself down the two flights to level twenty-seven, his footfalls quiet in the empty halls. It was late, later than he intended on being, but he'd gotten sidetracked with paperwork and other small stuff. It was always the little things that tripped you up.

Shaking his head, he turned into the darkened briefing room, dropping his jacket on the table before moving to the window overlooking the embarkation room.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but he finally took a deep breath and released it slowly, letting the serenity of the room and the night settle on him.

A kind and quiet voice pulled him out of his reverie.

"You okay, Jack?"

He turned to the older man, offering a tired smile. "Yes, Sir. Just enjoying the view."

"You in a hurry?"

"No, Sir," Jack said, moving closer to the General, following the other man into the small office. "Something wrong?"
Hammond shook his head, a smile brightening his features. "No, nothing. Why don't you sit a while before you head out? Keep an old man company."

"I don't think you'll ever be considered old," Jack said, taking the offered seat, sighing as his tired muscles relaxed.

"Try to tell that to the grand-kids, Jack. I'm not as young as I used to be," he said, reaching down into a bottom drawer and pulling out two old fashioned glasses and a bottle of single-malt scotch. At Jack's raised eyebrow, Hammond continued. "After the briefing this afternoon I think we both could use a little something to help us unwind."

Jack didn't argue as Hammond poured two fingers of the liquid into the bottom of the glasses before putting the bottle away. He pushed one of the glasses forward as Jack reached to snag it with his hand. Both men leaned back, silence settling on the room as each man enjoyed the first swallow.

Curiosity got the better of him and Jack was the first to break the silence. "Were you expecting me?"

Hammond's mouth twitched in a half smile. "I knew you would surface sooner or later. It was a little bit later than I thought though."

Jack smiled into his glass. "I'm getting predictable?"

Hammond shrugged. "Whenever you have a tough day it's been noted that you tend to stop here on your way out. I figured tonight would be one of those nights."

"You could say that." Jack took another swallow of the scotch, letting it warm him on the inside. "It was a close one."

"But you got out and got your team home."

"With the help of an alien woman."

"Whatever works, Jack. You know that."

He nodded. "I know. It's just hard to believe that such an advanced race could be so…corrupt, so inhumane. They were centuries ahead of us with technology that Carter would have loved to drool over, but what they did…" Jack's voice trailed off, as his eyes focused on the wall behind Hammond's head, his mind still spinning, still processing everything that had happened. "That's one race I never want to have the pleasure of meeting again."

"And that planet's been locked out of the dialing computer. I don't think you'll have the opportunity."

"I don't know, Sir," Jack shrugged, gently settling the now empty glass on the edge of the wood desk. "The Yalamanchi weren't from that planet. They were just using some of the facilities the Ancients left behind. We might not have seen the last of them."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Jack," Hammond said, rising to his feet. "But I think we have to get you home. I have a driver waiting topside for you. Another airman will follow with your truck so you have it for the weekend."

Jack stood, a smile on his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

"Don't mention it, Jack, and I mean that," Hammond laughed, his eyes drifting to the two old fashioned glasses on the desk. "And Jack?""

He paused in the doorway, turning to glance back at the General. "I heard about your bullying Doctor Jackson and Captain Carter out the door this afternoon. Make sure you get some rest too."

Jack's smile widened and he stepped back into the room, offering the General a sloppy salute. "Yes, Sir."

Hammond laughed, shooing him out of his office.

With a lightness in his step, Jack moved into the briefing room, picking up his jacket before heading to the elevator that would take him topside. It was time to go home.