Gallo's Humour
Posted on Fri Sep 30th, 2022 @ 7:56am by Lieutenant Ralph Brennan & 1st Lieutenant Dr Vanessa Gallo MD (Brennan)
Edited on on Fri Sep 30th, 2022 @ 1:43pm
Mission:
Jumping Right In
Location: Quarantine Ward, McMurdo Station
Timeline: Following 'Just Talking'
1268 words - 2.5 OF Standard Post Measure
A few hours had passed since the Jaffa refugee Lu’car had fallen ill. In that time, he’d been stretchered into McMurdo Station’s infirmary and stabilised by the base’s assistant head of medicine. While Lu’car’s care was never really touch and go for Doctor Vanessa Gallo, who’d been placed in charge of his care, it was a mystery case, nevertheless. In the hermetically sealed and darkened ward, a small team of medics reported the young man’s vitals, which she entered a computer tablet.
When she heard the seal on the door crack, she placed the tablet on a nearby trolley and turned away from the patient, who was now sleeping off his ailment.
“How’s our patient, Doctor?” A familiar voice called from behind. Gallo turned on her heel, the officer looking somewhat shocked.
“Vanessa?”
“Lieutenant Brennan,” Vanessa nodded. She knew he’d transferred, and she could already tell he was bummed she was being cold. She turned to her patient, “Our young guy here has a lot going on that’s indicative of many illnesses, but there’s nothing we can pinpoint.”
“Could he have contracted some sort of alien illness?” Brennan asked.
“It’s a possibility. Our blood tests have discounted him suffering from any terrestrial illness,” Gallo began. “There’s no bacterial or viral infection detected either. However, from what we understand of these people’s physiology and relationship with their symbionts, they’re highly resistant to disease.”
“Are they?” Brennan looked a little surprised. “Wait, this kid has one of those—”
“Symbionts?” Vanessa replied. “Yes.”
“Well, shit,” Brennan huffed. “So he’s got one of those… hagfish up in him, so does that mean he’s a Goa’uld?”
“Wait,” Gallo sighed. She folded her arms and cocked her head to the side, eyeing the naval officer, “Have you even been briefed? Just how much have they told you, or have you just forgotten?”
“I’m learning on the job here, Doc,” Brennan . “I keep telling people that until the other day, a Jaffa was a type of—”
“Orange, yes,” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I was in the mess and Sergeant Wilson mentioned you tried that joke on her.”
“I hope she was amused.”
“I assure you; she wasn’t.”
“Oookay,” Brennan winced. He gestured to Lu’car, desperate for a change of topic. “Anyway, what can you tell me about this Jaffa?”
“Blood pressure has spiked from his baselines,” Vanessa said, reaching for the tablet. “His resting BP held at a 100-over-60. An excellent blood pressure, considering he is, by all accounts, human. His BP is settling, but it was at 150-over-90 just before. We’re struggling to explain such a sudden increase. So too is the unusual activity in the brain, despite being unconscious the activity in the brainstem is off the charts. I could only categorise what he’s currently experiencing as a strong fear response.”
“He is apprehensive and unsure of what our intentions are for him,” Brennan reported.
“Understandable, given the circumstances,” Vanessa nodded. On a nearby screen, she brought up a 3D model of Lu’car’s brain. “However, our CT scan shows this goes beyond the fight-or-flight response we’d typically see. It also goes beyond a stress or anxiety response. His adrenaline levels remained at a level we’d expect for someone in his situation, but the electric signature in the brain is consistent with someone experiencing some sort of extreme trauma.”
Brennan was perplexed. “Surely nothing’s happened that would’ve triggered such a response.”
“You’d think not,” Gallo replied. She offered a wry smile. “You didn’t try to torture him, did you?”
“The Colonel and I had a perfectly normal conversation with the boy,” Brennan replied.
“Well, torture and conversations. Kind the same thing with you.”
“Fuck you.” Brennan grinned.
“Right back atcha, sailor,” Gallo laughed.
“Anything else you can tell me?” Brennan asked.
“His heartbeat has returned to normal, however, one oddity appeared on the toxicology screening,” Gallo reported. “Naquadah.”
“Naquadah?”
“The metal the Stargate is constructed from. Don’t you know anything?”
“Hey, I’m still learning.” Brennan replied. “So this… ‘aquaduct’—"
“Naquadah,” Gallo corrected. “Trace amounts seem to be found in the blood of many off-worlders. There may be some connection between the metal’s presence and the presence of the symbiont.”
“Maybe the hagfish’s blood is based on Naquadah, like ours is based on iron?” Brennan speculated.
“Watch out for Mister Scientist, here. We can’t prove that. Maybe leave the science to me, hey?” Gallo teased. “Regardless, it appears that the Naquadah is responsible for Lu’car’s reaction. Shortly before his episode, the Naquadah ‘attacked’ his brainstem.”
“Attacked?”
“The Naquadah attached itself to the neural fibres and made them superconductive,” Gallo said. “It sent his autonomic system into overdrive, producing a response that bears a close resemblance to an acute stress response. There’s just one thing I can’t explain, and that’s why it would happen.”
“Perhaps he can tell us?” Brennan said, looking at Lu’car’s unconscious form.
“Maybe,” Gallo replied with a sigh, removing the brain scan model from the screen and moving towards the exit of the sealed room. She and Brennan washed their hands in the airlock between the ward and the outside world.
Sudding up his hands, Brennan looked across to his former, and now current, colleague. “When they said you were reassigned from the navy yard in DC to a classified assignment, they weren’t kidding. Just how did you end up here?”
“Well, I didn’t have a conversation with a lost alien kid in a shotgun shack in San Diego,” she laughed. “Actually, I was in the sandbox a couple of years ago with an officer who got transferred here at the beginning of the program. I had some job specific skills. He recommended me.”
“No shit,” Brennan nodded. “Well it’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Gallo smiled. “Hey, the nightlife on the base isn’t too wild, but if you want, we should grab a drink sometime?”
“Sounds great,” Brennan answered. He grabbed a wad of paper towel dried his hands. “So, what ‘specific skills’ does Doctor Gallo bring to the table? I mean, aside from an irrepressible need to slice and dice every sorry son-of-a-bitch who comes past you on a stretcher.”
“You have clearance, right?” Gallo asked as the pair stepped out into the medical officers’ workspace.
“I mean, Lockhart and Raynor showed me the Stargate, I’m getting read-in slowly but surely.”
“Well,” Gallo shrugged, “When I was in Afghanistan, I was attached to a unit that was sent to investigate an ancient ruin. Combined UEO effort. What we uncovered was incredible; some sort of ancient technology, including archaeological remains. As the closest thing to a biologist, they also had me inspect the remains of a Goa’uld warrior and their symbiont. Well, that was before the men in black arrived and hurried us all away.”
“Sus.”
“Not wrong.”
“So is this how we all end up here?” Brennan asked, “Have we all just seen too much and been pulled into some sort of… tangled web?”
“For some people,” Gallo shrugged. “Others were pulled in for their combat prowess. In fact, part of my recommendation was the fact I know which way to point a gun in enemy action.”
“So, it’s not just that we can give you a scalpel and point you in the direction of the enemy?”
“Fuck you.”
“Right back atcha, soldier. I'll catch you around.”
OFF
