First contact challenge by lakester
Apr. 13th, 2005 04:16 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
lakester.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficTitle: The smallest thing
Rating: PG13
Summary: This wasn't how it was supposed to end.
On reflection, John Sheppard decided that his mistake had been to get up that morning. He'd considered against it - it hadn't been a high priority mission, no Wraith to shoot, no aliens to shake hands with. His hands spasmed again, clawing at the floor of the jumper. His thoughts faded from coherency into a jumble of sounds and images.
~
"Atlantis control, Jumper one is good to go." Sheppard made a sudden lift-off from the launch bay. There was a brief moment of muttered cursing from the behind the sealed door to the rear of the shuttle followed by a quiet 'thud'.
"Everything alright back there?"
"Major, do I have to remind you that this is very sensitive equipment? If the precision of these instruments..." Mckay's voice had started off loud and annoyed and was rapidly working its way up to ear-splitting and infuriated. Sheppard took his earpiece off and looked at Ford.
"He's fine."
Ford looked at him. And not just looked at him - Ford had perfected the 'looking at a superior as if he's nuts, without being obvious enough to get called on it look' and that was the one he was using now.
"Really." John put his - now silent - earpiece back and shrugged. "Dial her up, lieutenant."
~
He was hot. Too hot. It felt like his muscles were twitching hard enough to break his bones. He tried to call out, say something, anything, to scream, cough or vomit - but his throat was closing up. He could barely breathe and his body felt heavier and heavier. Where was his team? What little coherency he had reverberated around inside his skull - Rodney! Ford! Teyla!
~
"Privilege of rank." Sheppard had said, patting Ford on the shoulder. "And you wouldn't want Mckay in the hot seat for this."
They hadn't been able to land close to the site Mckay had picked out for the observatory. And the equipment was too heavy to trek the several clicks from the nearest landing site, without disassembling it piece by piece. Ford knew that the best solution meant lowering the cargo piece by piece out of the rear of the jumper. But damn it if he'd wanted to hang on a piece of rope in mid-air he'd have joined the Airforce, or maybe the circus.
Mckay had put together a pulley system to lower him and the cargo down. Teyla was strapping him into a harness, while Mckay was fussing over the delicate equipment.
"If you feel uncomfortable, Lieutenant, then I would volunteer to take your place."
Ford shook his head. "I'm fine, Teyla."
He pulled once more on the makeshift harness and then yelled to Sheppard in the cockpit. "We're ready now, sir."
The jumper lowered gently until it was hovering directly above the plateau. Ford took one step back.
~
Sheppard's body spasmed. The foot flicked out, colliding with something solid yet yielding. The pain seeped across his body, now covering his chest and left arm. Paralysis had extended throughout the lower body. The right arm twitched toward his sidearm. The gun lay just out of arms length. John Sheppard stopped trying to breathe.
~
Mckay was the first. He started coughing while connecting the power supply to the mobile emitter. He almost kicked the unit in frustration, would have done if he hadn’t felt suddenly light-headed. Instead, he stopped for a break, pulling out a power bar and attempting to swallow it whole. Pushing the wrapper back into a jacket pocket he crawled back under the machinery.
Ford didn’t see this. Mckay had told him ‘to go do something, rather than stand there looking like a sack of lemons’, so he’d left the doctor with his machinery and was patrolling in expanding circles around the launch site.
The planet was silent. No wind, no signs of life - animal, human or Wraith. It was almost silent with just the echo of his boots striking stone or earth. He looked at his watch. It was time to get back to the departure site. He was just thinking it was a really uneventful mission when suddenly he was bent over, on his knees in the grass throwing up.
~
Dr Weir paced back and forth in the control room.
“That’s it. Dial P2X-912. Have a MALP standing by.”
“Are you sure Dr Weir? They have only missed their call in time by two hours.”
“Just do it.”
Grodin pushed the seven buttons and they watched as the stargate formed.
“Jumper one, jumper one, do you read? Major Sheppard? Lieutenant?” The absence of a response echoed throughout the control room.
They watched as the MALP inched its way though the event horizon.
“We’re receiving telemetry.” Grodin paused. “Oh dear.”
Dr Weir leaned over his shoulder. In the foreground of the shot the MALP showed a stationary, and obviously crashed puddlejumper. The damage didn’t look that severe, but in the background she could just make out the shape of an unmoving body.
~
John Sheppard was worried. It wasn’t like Ford to ignore his radio. Rodney, well he didn’t tend to notice things until they became life-threatening - whereupon he would start running round like a headless chicken. And that thought really was amusing, so he filed it for later.
He’d brought the jumper back to where they’d dropped Ford and Mckay, but couldn’t see them.
“Major?”
“Not right now, Teyla.”
“Perhaps you should use the lifesigns detector to search for the others.” As she said that the panel in the side of the puddlejumper slid open.
John reached for it, attempting to look as if he’d meant to do that all along. He fiddled with it, then hit it a couple of times when it failed to work. “Guess the batteries must be dead, or they’re out of range.”
He looked at Teyla silently daring her to name the third possibility. Instead she nodded, saying, “Then I will search for them whilst you remain aboard.” Sheppard opened his mouth to protest.
“As you are the only pilot here.”
~
The rescue team had only been able to retrieve the bodies of Major Sheppard and Teyla and bring the jumper home. Both were taken to the jumper bay - which was sealed until Dr Beckett completed the autopsies.
Dr Weir was listening to Sheppard's autopsy recording.
[Initial findings show that Major Sheppard’s body is in a state of rigor mortis consistent with death occurring less than four hours ago. There are no obvious external signs of trauma except for minor bruising on the left and right lower arm. Certainly nothing that would have killed him.
Further examinations show a black oil-like substance throughout much of his circulatory, respiratory and nervous systems. Infection appears to have been respiratory initially and there are signs of separate cells cooperating. There seems to be bonding on a micro-cellular level directly to the red blood cells, removing the oxygen from his system, yet the proliferation of the bacteria seems almost entirely independent to location in his system. I’ve never seem something like this before.
It must have become extremely difficult to breathe and the paralysis would have hampered that further. I’d say the cause of death was asphyxiation due to infestation by an alien bacterium]
Slightly dazed Elizabeth sat listening to the medical report, barely listening - the details rolling over her like a wave. She started as Dr Grodin called her name.
“Yes?”
“I've already had P2X-912 locked out of the dialling protocols. Also, we found this recording in the jumper memory.”
~
John heaved himself into an almost upright position and activated the recorder on the jumper systems.
“Atlantis. Under no circumstances return to P2X-912. There’s some kind of weird bug - fatal to humans. Mckay and Ford are dead.”
He paused, looking at an unconscious Teyla lying twisted in the rear of the jumper.
“And Teyla and I will be soon. The equipment's a write-off.” He sighed. “Sorry, about…” He descended into a paroxysm of coughing, the sound echoing in the enclosed space.
“I just wanted to say there’s a bottle of tequila under my bed - eat, drink and be merry ‘cause… well you know the rest.” He slumped further down - he was almost lying on the floor when his hands started to shake.
“Good luck.”
Rating: PG13
Summary: This wasn't how it was supposed to end.
On reflection, John Sheppard decided that his mistake had been to get up that morning. He'd considered against it - it hadn't been a high priority mission, no Wraith to shoot, no aliens to shake hands with. His hands spasmed again, clawing at the floor of the jumper. His thoughts faded from coherency into a jumble of sounds and images.
~
"Atlantis control, Jumper one is good to go." Sheppard made a sudden lift-off from the launch bay. There was a brief moment of muttered cursing from the behind the sealed door to the rear of the shuttle followed by a quiet 'thud'.
"Everything alright back there?"
"Major, do I have to remind you that this is very sensitive equipment? If the precision of these instruments..." Mckay's voice had started off loud and annoyed and was rapidly working its way up to ear-splitting and infuriated. Sheppard took his earpiece off and looked at Ford.
"He's fine."
Ford looked at him. And not just looked at him - Ford had perfected the 'looking at a superior as if he's nuts, without being obvious enough to get called on it look' and that was the one he was using now.
"Really." John put his - now silent - earpiece back and shrugged. "Dial her up, lieutenant."
~
He was hot. Too hot. It felt like his muscles were twitching hard enough to break his bones. He tried to call out, say something, anything, to scream, cough or vomit - but his throat was closing up. He could barely breathe and his body felt heavier and heavier. Where was his team? What little coherency he had reverberated around inside his skull - Rodney! Ford! Teyla!
~
"Privilege of rank." Sheppard had said, patting Ford on the shoulder. "And you wouldn't want Mckay in the hot seat for this."
They hadn't been able to land close to the site Mckay had picked out for the observatory. And the equipment was too heavy to trek the several clicks from the nearest landing site, without disassembling it piece by piece. Ford knew that the best solution meant lowering the cargo piece by piece out of the rear of the jumper. But damn it if he'd wanted to hang on a piece of rope in mid-air he'd have joined the Airforce, or maybe the circus.
Mckay had put together a pulley system to lower him and the cargo down. Teyla was strapping him into a harness, while Mckay was fussing over the delicate equipment.
"If you feel uncomfortable, Lieutenant, then I would volunteer to take your place."
Ford shook his head. "I'm fine, Teyla."
He pulled once more on the makeshift harness and then yelled to Sheppard in the cockpit. "We're ready now, sir."
The jumper lowered gently until it was hovering directly above the plateau. Ford took one step back.
~
Sheppard's body spasmed. The foot flicked out, colliding with something solid yet yielding. The pain seeped across his body, now covering his chest and left arm. Paralysis had extended throughout the lower body. The right arm twitched toward his sidearm. The gun lay just out of arms length. John Sheppard stopped trying to breathe.
~
Mckay was the first. He started coughing while connecting the power supply to the mobile emitter. He almost kicked the unit in frustration, would have done if he hadn’t felt suddenly light-headed. Instead, he stopped for a break, pulling out a power bar and attempting to swallow it whole. Pushing the wrapper back into a jacket pocket he crawled back under the machinery.
Ford didn’t see this. Mckay had told him ‘to go do something, rather than stand there looking like a sack of lemons’, so he’d left the doctor with his machinery and was patrolling in expanding circles around the launch site.
The planet was silent. No wind, no signs of life - animal, human or Wraith. It was almost silent with just the echo of his boots striking stone or earth. He looked at his watch. It was time to get back to the departure site. He was just thinking it was a really uneventful mission when suddenly he was bent over, on his knees in the grass throwing up.
~
Dr Weir paced back and forth in the control room.
“That’s it. Dial P2X-912. Have a MALP standing by.”
“Are you sure Dr Weir? They have only missed their call in time by two hours.”
“Just do it.”
Grodin pushed the seven buttons and they watched as the stargate formed.
“Jumper one, jumper one, do you read? Major Sheppard? Lieutenant?” The absence of a response echoed throughout the control room.
They watched as the MALP inched its way though the event horizon.
“We’re receiving telemetry.” Grodin paused. “Oh dear.”
Dr Weir leaned over his shoulder. In the foreground of the shot the MALP showed a stationary, and obviously crashed puddlejumper. The damage didn’t look that severe, but in the background she could just make out the shape of an unmoving body.
~
John Sheppard was worried. It wasn’t like Ford to ignore his radio. Rodney, well he didn’t tend to notice things until they became life-threatening - whereupon he would start running round like a headless chicken. And that thought really was amusing, so he filed it for later.
He’d brought the jumper back to where they’d dropped Ford and Mckay, but couldn’t see them.
“Major?”
“Not right now, Teyla.”
“Perhaps you should use the lifesigns detector to search for the others.” As she said that the panel in the side of the puddlejumper slid open.
John reached for it, attempting to look as if he’d meant to do that all along. He fiddled with it, then hit it a couple of times when it failed to work. “Guess the batteries must be dead, or they’re out of range.”
He looked at Teyla silently daring her to name the third possibility. Instead she nodded, saying, “Then I will search for them whilst you remain aboard.” Sheppard opened his mouth to protest.
“As you are the only pilot here.”
~
The rescue team had only been able to retrieve the bodies of Major Sheppard and Teyla and bring the jumper home. Both were taken to the jumper bay - which was sealed until Dr Beckett completed the autopsies.
Dr Weir was listening to Sheppard's autopsy recording.
[Initial findings show that Major Sheppard’s body is in a state of rigor mortis consistent with death occurring less than four hours ago. There are no obvious external signs of trauma except for minor bruising on the left and right lower arm. Certainly nothing that would have killed him.
Further examinations show a black oil-like substance throughout much of his circulatory, respiratory and nervous systems. Infection appears to have been respiratory initially and there are signs of separate cells cooperating. There seems to be bonding on a micro-cellular level directly to the red blood cells, removing the oxygen from his system, yet the proliferation of the bacteria seems almost entirely independent to location in his system. I’ve never seem something like this before.
It must have become extremely difficult to breathe and the paralysis would have hampered that further. I’d say the cause of death was asphyxiation due to infestation by an alien bacterium]
Slightly dazed Elizabeth sat listening to the medical report, barely listening - the details rolling over her like a wave. She started as Dr Grodin called her name.
“Yes?”
“I've already had P2X-912 locked out of the dialling protocols. Also, we found this recording in the jumper memory.”
~
John heaved himself into an almost upright position and activated the recorder on the jumper systems.
“Atlantis. Under no circumstances return to P2X-912. There’s some kind of weird bug - fatal to humans. Mckay and Ford are dead.”
He paused, looking at an unconscious Teyla lying twisted in the rear of the jumper.
“And Teyla and I will be soon. The equipment's a write-off.” He sighed. “Sorry, about…” He descended into a paroxysm of coughing, the sound echoing in the enclosed space.
“I just wanted to say there’s a bottle of tequila under my bed - eat, drink and be merry ‘cause… well you know the rest.” He slumped further down - he was almost lying on the floor when his hands started to shake.
“Good luck.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-13 03:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-14 05:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-13 04:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-14 06:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-13 04:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-14 06:02 pm (UTC)you enjoyed itit affected you.(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-13 07:11 pm (UTC)well done. I like the way you move between now and then.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-14 06:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-13 07:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-14 06:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-13 09:51 pm (UTC)But I appreciate the Beckett mention--it's rare when he's in fic, so I enjoy whenever he's "present". :)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-14 06:08 pm (UTC)Conducting autopsies on your friends must really suck.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-13 10:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-14 06:10 pm (UTC)wonders who else to kill next(no subject)
Date: 2005-04-14 07:05 pm (UTC)And John manages to keep the upper hand and the last word. Damn his perfection! :)