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Chapter Text

Prologue

Jolinar knew all had gone to Netu when she was running for her life across Nasya. The Tok’ra were known for their cautious nature, ready to bolt if it helped the cause, but Jolinar and Rosha had prided themselves on sticking to their post even in anticipation of bitter pain. They had a feeling that though the High Council would never acknowledge it, their reprimands of such reckless behavior were for show only. But Jolinar had run once before, and now she was running again.

Running to save a life—and not her own. She refused to apologize to the man whose body she was at the moment directing. Apology meant that there was some failure, and Jolinar refused to accept that until it was certain. She wouldn’t allow that, wouldn’t allow Quinta to be lost like Rosha. He had been so kind, finding them at death’s door after their escape from Apophis with Cronus’ ashrak on their heels—he had asked what he could do for them, and as Jolinar felt Rosha slip away from her tentative grasp, she had called out in desperation to this man. “I wish to join with you,” she said in a tinny whisper, and though he balked, he did not run. “Only to hide, and only briefly,” she added, nearly her last breath. He frowned, but she had read his face and seen the gentle caring of his heart, and was not surprised when he leaned forward and offered himself to her.

Even now, she thought that no one knew—she had buried herself deeply, withdrawing from Quinta as he lived his life with wife and family, both for his sake and hers. And then they had come through the gate, the famous Tauri and Jaffa shol’va. Quinta had not been impressed, and Jolinar found their open and spontaneous tactics very youthful, so neither of them had cared to go forward and speak to them. Until the gliders swept in, golden-orange shots piercing the morning and ripping homes and occupants apart.

“Get to the gate!” came the call of the fair-haired Tauri to Jolinar’s ears—and Jolinar felt a brief flash of grief for Rosha at the sight of that strong face framed by golden hair before she began running even faster, gritting her teeth. She would not apologize for failure—she would make it to the gate, to the safety of the Tauri.

Then there was a flash behind her, and she glanced behind to see where Quinta’s home now lay in smoking ruins. Another flash, and she jerked, looked down at the gaping wound in her chest that didn’t hurt, and crumpled involuntarily to the earth.

~Oh god,~ she heard the thoughts of Quinta as he realized the situation.

Jolinar gritted her teeth metaphorically and did not bother to point out that the only god here was the cause of his terror and distress. But she couldn’t hide her honest assessment of the predicament.

~I am gone, aren’t I, dear one?~ came his thoughts, so clear for one so haplessly chosen.

No one called her dear one, not even—no one.

~You are a strong soul, Jolinar, and I did not resent you for your need. But that it so ends without my wife near...~

*No, not yet*, answered Jolinar, working with her strength to knit the sinews of his heart while choosing not to focus on the blood seeping dangerously into his punctured lungs.

~Good—fortune—Jolinar of Malkshur.~ Quinta’s thoughts were disjointed as his nearly halted breathing drained the oxygen and therefore the life from him.

*No,* declared Jolinar fiercely, but Quinta was already unconscious. Her strength was slowly ebbing away as her work became more difficult. There was so much blood in Quinta’s lungs, so much burning near sensitive arteries—even she could not do it all. Aware of the Tauri’s promise of medical aid, she struggled to keep Quinta on the brink of life, putting all her hope on the rumors of just how advanced this new race was.

“Wait, sir, I’ve got to go back!” That strong voice floated above the noise and confusion again, and Jolinar saw through Quinta’s eyes as the blond Tauri ran back through the mess.

But though most of the Nasyans lay dead or many yards away by the gate, at least one glider pilot felt the urge to bag an important prize. Swooping down from the skies, two shots exploded right behind—Carter, was she called? One struck directly onto the cart of mined naquadah, and suddenly a ball of fire flung Carter to the ground and shrapnel propelled all around. She landed at Quinta’s feet, and Jolinar felt her hopes dashed as she saw the scorched uniform and dark blood swiftly seeping to dye that rare golden hair.

Quinta was almost gone—he would be gone, unless these Tauri had a healing device or a sarcophagus. Desperate for her life, and for the priceless information she was bearing to the Tok’ra, Jolinar made a swift decision. The Tauri woman, Carter, if Jolinar remembered correctly, had a serious wound on her head that was probably even now resulting in cranial trauma; if Jolinar could just summon the strength to move to her as a new host, she was certain that with her remaining strength she could keep the woman from both death and mental damage.

It was too soon to withdraw from Quinta, her host for barely six months, and Jolinar felt the tiny neural tendrils ripping as she ventured out into the open air. Slowly, she worked her way across the cold ground covered in splinters, senses suddenly dulled, and with a final jump, entered into Carter. She was totally unconscious, her mind hidden from Jolinar, which kept the now-weary symbiote from being overwhelmed by a flood of sudden information. The sharp metallic taste of blood where she had bitten down on her tongue, the numbness where nerves had been cauterized, the painful pressure from the swelling, and beyond her body the sound of explosions and the harsh scent of smoke.

*You will forgive me, but I must save your life,* she thought morbidly as she put out all her effort to heal the broken veins and crushed neural tissue inside Carter’s head before it was irreparable. *I promise, I will not be here long by choice.*

She chose not to pay attention to the vague sounds going on above and around her...

Carter? Carter!  Daniel, help me!

Oh god, Jack... Frasier! Frasier!

I need to deal with this quickly—get her onto the table, but gently.

...

Dr. Jackson? Colonel O’Neill? I’ve stabilized what I can, but she’s lost a good deal of blood and fluid through the burns, and she has a massive concussion. I’m monitoring her skull for pressure, but the brain damage is beyond my care. We can only hope for the best and wait till she wakes up.

...

Daniel?

I can’t sleep, Jack—how do the Goa’uld seem to know exactly what I value, what would hurt me most to take away?

I’m going home, Daniel. There’s nothing needed from me here.

I know—it’s just something I need to do.

Let me know when she wakes up will you, Danny boy?

...

It was many hours later when Jolinar felt that all the urgent healing had been done. With her new host no longer in a life-or-death situation, she withdrew herself deep into Carter’s mind and fell into an exhausted unconsciousness to recover. She had survived once again.

Chapter Text

Book 1

Chapter 1 - Unknown

Daniel found himself jerked to waking by the sudden sound of Dr. Frasier’s heels on the hard infirmary floor, and he winced as his neck protested at how he had slept, slouching in a chair and leaning up against the wall by Sam’s bed. Sighing, he sat more slowly up.

Dr. Frasier approached, examining the quietly humming and beeping equipment attached all over Sam. “I told you to go home to sleep, Dr. Jackson,” she said.

“I know,” said Daniel, in an inconspicuously stubborn way that he had perfected.

Janet didn’t look too imposing, though, not knowing him well enough to see past his innocent exterior. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it once she wakes up,” she said.

“Are we certain that will happen?” Daniel asked, looking up with open eyes bleary with worry.

“Yes, definitely,” said Janet, nodding, with a confidence that could have been more than a reassurance to herself. “She survived the night—that was the biggest danger. Now my concern is what state she’ll wake in.” She sighed, looking to where Sam lay.

Daniel’s gaze drifted back as well, remembering the limp and bloody figure that Jack had carried through the gate, whose hair had been matted darkly against her head and whose body had been covered in blistering red marks. The smell of scorched flesh had added to the sick feeling he had then, and so vivid a reaction it was that it burned into his mind—unforgettable. Now she was cleaned and bandaged up, a pale face against the pale sheets and pillows. It was almost eerier, especially her scarce breathing as she lay very still.

“But we probably have another couple days before she even opens her eyes,” added Janet with a frown after a moment, “what with the head trauma and the injuries... General Hammond has given you leave, Dr. Jackson—as your doctor, I’d suggest that you take it.”

“And go home to an empty apartment?” asked Daniel, no real question on his face.

“You could visit Colonel O’Neill,” suggested Janet.

“Jack doesn’t even want to admit that this happened,” said Daniel, frowning a little. “I think he thinks ignoring it will make things better. Believe me, here is the least stressful place for me.”

“Well, at least spend some time in your lab, keep your mind busy,” said Janet. “Excessive worrying won’t help anyone.”

Daniel gave her a weak smile, and she gave an answering one and then called over an aide. As they began to change Sam’s bandages, Daniel decided he really didn’t want to watch, and walked out yawning to change his wrinkled BDUs.

ooooooo

As Sam gradually became aware of her consciousness, she first noticed the dull pain wracking her body, and secondly that she couldn’t remember why she had it. But she could recall being told that losing consciousness usually meant losing the last minute or so of short term memory, so she assumed it was connected to the attack on Nasya. At least the familiar sounds of the SGC gave her a place of reference. With the centering of the pain in her head and then running down her back and legs, she felt very fuzzy and groggy, not really aware.

She cracked her eyelids open, and found that the light was gentle on them. Her head wouldn’t turn to look around, but as her eyes opened a little wider, she saw Daniel sitting next to her bed. He looked tired, even with the tray of breakfast food in his lap, and she spared a brief moment to be glad that she didn’t wake up to strangers. She swallowed with a tiny sound to clear her dry mouth.

Daniel’s head jerked upwards so that his eyes met hers, and he choked a little on his mouthful of oatmeal. “Sam?” he said, in obvious surprise.

Sam didn’t know if she had the strength to speak until she tried. “Daniel?” she creaked.

“Janet said you probably wouldn’t wake for another day at least, so I had no idea—you know who I am, right?”

Daniel had a way of making one both more and less confused, and Sam’s dry lips cracked a little in a half-smile. “Yes, Daniel. I just can’t remember why I’m in a hospital bed.”

“Oh Sam, you have no idea how good that is to hear,” said Daniel, gently placing a hand on Sam’s IV’d arm. “We’ve all been worried sick—Jack couldn’t even stay here, and Teal’c’s been in kel’no’reem. You were very near a blast on Nasya, and the fireball and shrapnel knocked you out. There’s, uh, a lot of burns and a really bad head wound,” he said, indicating with his hands a bit absentmindedly. “We weren’t sure about brain damage.”

“I remember Nasya,” Sam said, the cloud of foggy consciousness dissipating slowly.

“I should tell Dr. Frasier,” commented Daniel to himself, wiping his face with his napkin. “Or not—are you all right, Sam, do you need me?”

Sam smiled a little. “I don’t think so, my pain seems pretty normal.” Her brow furrowed as she thought about what she was feeling. There was an odd sensation in her head, beyond the normal trauma of a head injury, and it was growing now. It was almost like the presence of something foreign, and it didn’t feel right at all.

ooooooo

Daniel sat patiently as he watched Sam frown and introspect. He was excited to spread the news, but Sam seemed to have something to say. He watched her frown and look somewhat worried, but didn’t know whether he should be worried himself.

Suddenly, her hand snapped out with a strength he wouldn’t have expected to grab him, her eyes wide open in sudden panic as she gasped: “Daniel, it’s a—”

Then a flash of golden light in her eyes, and Daniel leapt back involuntarily, his tray crashing to the ground, the food spraying across the floor.

“Guar-marines! I need help here!” he called frantically. His hand went to his hip because of the lack of other options, but he did not carry a weapon off mission.

Not-Sam tried to sit up, and Daniel was at that moment glad for the accident as he saw that the creature controlling his friend could barely rise a few inches before sinking into the pillow again. Then, breathing heavily, she spoke with that twangy Goa’uld voice: “Do not—be rash, Daniel Jackson. Things are—not as they seem.”

His shock at hearing that voice come from Sam faded quickly as he registered her words. There were footsteps coming quickly toward the infirmary. “What?”

“I have—no wish to harm any of the—people of this planet,” said not-Sam through gasps, closing her eyes. “Do not assume you know all of the Goa’uld.”

The arrogance was there, surely, but as the marines came in and had their weapons up at the ready at the sound of her voice, Daniel doubted.

”Wait, don’t shoot!” he said, not turning around but waving a hand in their direction. “What are you talking about?” he asked pointedly, drawing a little nearer to the hospital bed.

“I am Jolinar of Malkshur,” said not-Sam slowly. “And I am no Goa’uld.”

“Dr. Jackson?” asked the captain of the marines, not moving his eye from the sight of the gun in case there was trouble.

“I don’t think she could move if she wanted,” said Daniel, his adrenaline already fading, leaving only tension.

“Should I send for General Hammond?”

“Yeah, yes, that would be good—and see if Jack’s here,” said Daniel, deeply worried but no longer panicked. He turned his full attention back to Jolinar, though. “What exactly are you denying?” he demanded. “You’ve already expressed all of the characteristics we have seen of the Goa’uld.”

“Foolish young ones,” breathed out Jolinar, but too tired to be angrily. “You spend a year in the galaxy and think you know all.”

“So, explain to me what we’ve missed,” said Daniel, wanting to hear a reason, any reason, but not expecting to get one. “Because if you don’t hurry up about it, some men who are more trigger happy and less likely to care what I think are going to come through that door and, I assure you, they probably won’t hear a word you say.”

“The Goa’uld are your name for a symbiotic race of beings, which are, in fact, much more than what you have seen,” said Jolinar, slowly but more steadily.

“So what, you’re a good Goa’uld?” asked Daniel, moving his hands about to ask for clarification.

“No, the Goa’uld are but a sect of our race,” said Jolinar somewhat impatiently.

“What the hell is going on?” demanded the loud voice of General Hammond as he entered the infirmary.

“Captain Carter’s a Goa’uld, sir,” reported the captain of the marines.

Jolinar let out a frustrated sigh, but even that was so clearly tinged with the symbiotic voice.

“Wait, sir, I’m not so sure,” said Daniel.

“She’s been saying strange things, sir,” said the captain.

General Hammond’s large brow was deeply furrowed, and he looked unhappy about more than Sam’s situation. “Dr. Jackson?”

“She’s not acting like a typical Goa’uld, general sir,” said Daniel. “And she’s not admitting to it—this is a new case, we can’t just jump in like we know everything.”

“The hell we can!” said Jack, fast on Hammond’s trail. “Daniel, Carter’s been taken by an alien being against her will—that’s all we need to know.”

”No, Jack, I don’t think so,” protested Daniel, not even sure why he was doing it.

“Dr. Jackson, have you never heard of enemies lying to gain sanctuary?” asked Hammond.

“Just wait a bit, please,” said Daniel, his hands up with palms outward facing, even as the confidence didn’t reflect his inner confusion. “I’m not convinced about anything yet, but I don’t want to rush things. Keep the guns if you want, just let me talk to her.”

The infirmary was now full of people; marines mostly, but Dr. Frasier was standing nearby, and Teal’c was ready with his staff weapon. Hammond looked once from Jack to Daniel, then nodded. “You have five minutes, son.”

“Sir, I need to check Sam’s vitals,” said Janet.

“Do it! Just keep your distance,” ordered the general.

Daniel nodded his thanks, and moved back to where Jolinar lay with her eyes shut, though clearly awake. Jack followed, arms crossed and eyes glowering protectively.

“You are indeed as rash as legends are saying,” drawled Jolinar without opening her eyes.

“Okay, insulting us is not the way to gain trust,” said Daniel, now a little frustrated.

“What’d you expect from a Goa’uld, Daniel,” muttered Jack, hands twitching at his side.

Daniel took a deep breath, and Jolinar opened her eyes to flash them. “I am no Goa’uld!”

“Protest overmuch?” Jack came back, stance switching from worried to aggressive.

“Please, Jack, let me do this,” said Daniel. He folded his arms, trying to keep his worry from showing so physically. “Jolinar, he’s not without a point.”

“I am weak,” said Jolinar shortly. “And my testimony will mean nothing to you without action, so I see. So be it!”

There was a shudder, and suddenly the eyes flashed and Daniel saw Sam in them.

”Daniel?” she asked, tentative and obviously shaken.

”Sam?” he answered.

“Oh god, Daniel,” she said, still too weak to even rise.

Daniel hesitated for a moment, loosening, and then he impulsively took the last few steps forward to put his arms comfortingly and gently around Sam, ignoring the shuffling of feet drawing nearer and the cocking of weapons behind him.

“Dr. Jackson, this might very well be a ruse,” said General Hammond from where he stood behind the marines’ line of fire.

“We can’t know anything for sure, general,” said Jack, looking less angry as he watched either a good imitation or the actions of Sam herself in the way she held onto Daniel.

”Sam, how are you feeling?” asked Janet, drawing closer as Daniel had.

“I want this thing out of me,” Sam said as sharply as she could.

“We’ll do everything we can, Sam,” soothed Daniel.

“How do your wounds feel?” asked Janet.

Sam shuddered and gripped onto Daniel’s sweater. “She’s healing them even now,” she said. “Jolinar—she’s trying to fix me.”

“That’s good, Sam,” said Janet, bending a little to look at Sam’s face. “She’s probably all that kept you alive last night.”

“I don’t care,” spat Sam.

”That’s not what she meant,” Daniel assured. Then, urgently, “How did this happen, Sam?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember,” said Sam distractedly, and Daniel felt her physical weakness as she began to tremble. “God, Daniel, I don’t even remember.”

“Okay, Sam, it doesn’t really matter now,” said Daniel. “We need to know who we’re dealing with. Can you read her thoughts, know what she’s thinking?”

Sam took a few deep breaths. “No, she’s hiding in the back of my mind so she can heal. But I could see her a little before, when she was in control.”

“I’m sorry Sam, but we need to know—was she truthful?”

“She wasn’t actively lying,” said Sam carefully. “She was full of fear—fear, frustration, even anger, but she was sincere about it.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, and you know it, Daniel,” said Jack, standing behind Daniel’s shoulder.

“Jack, what Goa’uld gives up control of its host?” said Daniel.

“We don’t know that this Jolly Goa’uld has!” protested Jack. “She’s in Sam’s mind, knows what Sam would say!”

“But why?” pushed Daniel. “If she’s in Sam’s mind, what would she see there that she could take advantage of?”

“Your damned tolerance, for one,” said Jack.

Daniel snorted. “I’d never let anyone take Sam—she would know that—no matter what.”

“So why bother talking to her?” asked Jack. “Why don’t we put her in a nice cell until we can get Sam back?”

“Sir, you may not have that option,” said Sam slowly, speaking after a few deep breaths.

“We didn’t have much success before,” admitted Daniel darkly. “But we’re not giving up—and maybe we can convince this Jolinar to leave before we kill her.”

Jack nodded his head in firm agreement.

“Daniel, I didn’t see anything about armies,” said Sam. “I don’t remember her thinking anything like that. She—I think she wanted to go home.”

“Even if she’s the best Goa’uld in the whole galaxy, what does that mean?” asked Jack, his stance betraying his lack of determination of whether he wanted to come closer or stay cautious.

“It means we can’t kill her lightly,” said Daniel, closing his eyes for a brief second.

There was a murmur behind him, but whether from the marines or Hammond Daniel didn’t know.

“Daniel!” said Sam with a start, and then suddenly Jolinar was back. Daniel withdrew his arms swiftly, and Jolinar lay back against the pillow as her eyes flashed.

“Your Colonel O’Neill is being appropriately direct,” she said.

“So, what do you have to say to that?” demanded Jack, the softness that had come when faced with Sam gone again.

“You want this one returned to you at any cost,” said Jolinar. “And I do not want to stay in an unwilling host.”

“Oh, and we’re just going to believe that?” asked Jack. Daniel was deep in thought and didn’t seem to notice their conversation.

“I only chose her to save both our lives,” said Jolinar, though she eyed Jack with just a hint of scorn. “It matters not what you believe, thus are the facts. So is the fact that I must return to my people.”

“Yeah, and who are they exactly?” Jack stepped forward past Daniel, but only so that he towered over the bed.

“The Tok’ra,” said Jolinar, holding her gaze upwards towards Jack’s.

Then Teal’c stepped out from the sidelines, breaking the barrier of the silent crowd. “They are but a legend, ColonelO’Neill,” he said in his deep rumbling voice.

“A Jaffa?” asked Jolinar. “The famed shol’va, Teal’c? You must know more of us than that—do not even the Goa’uld speak of the name of Jolinar of Malkshur?”

“Uppity, are we?” commented Jack, but Teal’c appeared pondering.

“I have indeed heard of that name, ColonelO’Neill,” he said. “She is wanted among the System Lords for acts of treason.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose considerably.

“Tok’ra,” said Daniel, coming out of his reverie as he connected some pieces, tapping a finger on his leg. “Tok-ra, against Ra, that’s what that name means?”

“Of course,” said Jolinar shortly.

“Why?” continued Daniel.

“You of all people need reasons why any others would oppose such an evil?”

“When it comes to you, yes,” said Daniel, giving her a close look. “You’re a—a symbiote, you need humans. Why should you hate those like Ra?”

“Ra was an abomination, as are his brood,” said Jolinar disgustedly. “Our race was not originally so flawed; we are meant to live in harmony with our hosts, sharing body and mind.”

“So, like just now with Sam?” asked Daniel.

“This is not the most ideal of situations,” said Jolinar dryly. It frustrated Daniel to hear.

“Dr. Jackson, we need to make a decision,” cut in General Hammond.

“We haven’t learned anything useful, sir,” said Jack. “She’s still a snake, and she still has Carter. I recommend we continue with the original plan.”

“Except we didn’t have one,” said Daniel. “And general sir, this isn’t like Kawalsky—this Jolinar doesn’t want to stay in Sam.”

“How do we know she’s who she says she is?” demanded Jack.

“Why would a Goa’uld take on the identity of a traitor? It makes no sense, Jack,” said Daniel.

He stepped away from Sam to stand by Hammond, saying quietly so Jolinar couldn’t hear. “Sir, I think for Sam’s sake we need to treat this less like a hostage situation, at least on the surface. Jolinar may be cooperative, but she doesn’t seem like the most patient.”

“General?” called Janet from where she had taken up Daniel’s place. “Whatever you decide, Sam is going to need continual care.”

“That is beside the question,” spoke up Jolinar. “Your Carter will be well healed within two days, and already she is past any critical stage.”

“I’ll need to check that, sir,” said Janet hesitantly. “But we do know that Goa’uld heal quickly.”

Hammond frowned, and spoke after a moment. “Dr. Frasier, you will accompany the marines to an isolation chamber, where you will make sure that this Jolinar and Captain Carter are secured safely. We will continue this discussion at a later date.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Daniel.

“Follow me, gentlemen,” said Hammond, and he turned to leave the infirmary.

Daniel looked to Sam. “Sam? Don’t worry, we’ll get you through this, I promise.”

“We’ve got your back, Carter,” said Jack. Teal’c nodded his equal assurance.

ooooooo

Jolinar’s eyes flashed as she gave control back to Sam, but Sam had nothing to say, just watched as her team walked out of the infirmary. Then she lay back on the cot as it was wheeled down the hallway. She was a prisoner in her own body, afraid of speaking in case she might betray something to her jailor—and no one had a rescue plan, not even her.

Part of her wished that she had not been saved by this Jolinar, and it was a part that was growing stronger by the moment.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Fear

Lying on her hospital bed in a barred cell, Sam wondered who was in control. Jolinar had ducked down while working on Sam’s injuries, but the pain was still enough that Sam didn’t want to try to move. Still, it couldn’t hurt to—no, she couldn’t even raise a finger.

~I hate you,~ she thought viciously to keep from acknowledging her fear.

She regretted her behavior in the infirmary, driven by that primal fear that had been cultivated over the last year and let loose by a mind uncontrolled due to pain. She only should have shown her fury, her indignation at being taken silently in her sleep again, even if it wasn’t her fault. A strong face was all she should have revealed—so that pity wouldn’t come into their decision. None of that hesitation. Now she was unsure of what their actions would be.

*Your will is incredibly strong, Tauri*

Sam would have jumped if her muscles were in her power to control—Jolinar’s thought rang about her head as if spoken aloud, and her heart was pounding again. She was a host; good god, she was truly a host!

*Oh, don’t continue on about it,* came Jolinar’s rebuke, surprising Sam. *You are mostly likely to escape alive from this, especially if I have anything to do with it. You Tauri may have been protected from the Goa’uld, but that has only made you irrational about their existence. Any other human would be overjoyed that my intentions were only to share and not control. What have you to worry about now?*

~Oh, only that my body has been taken prisoner,~ Sam mentally shot back, glad for a focus to her frustration. ~With only the word of a snake to go on that it wasn’t maliciously intended.~

*You saw my thoughts, you know I do not lie.*

~And if I hadn’t been dying?~

*This wouldn’t have happened. Do you not understand that I was as near death as you?*

~What exactly were you planning to do when I woke up?~ demanded Sam. ~Explain everything and assume I’d just accept it? Oh sure, I’ve always wanted to give up my freedom to a needy parasite.~

*Your sarcasm is unappreciated,* Jolinar growled. *Would it cause you irreparable harm to think of me as Tok’ra or symbiote?*

~Worm, snake, slimy creature,~ taunted Sam.

*You really do want to make your situation worse,* muttered Jolinar.

~I want you out of me, and that is only a matter of time, so nothing I say has meaning.~

*I can see your thoughts, young one, I know that this situation is without precedent or easy answer to your people. And as being upset hinders my healing abilities, it is within your best interests to remain silent if you cannot be pleasant.*

~I used to heal just fine on my own.~

*Yes, over weeks and weeks of time. How efficient!*

~You are full of yourself, you know that!~

Jolinar fell silent, but Sam couldn’t read her thoughts, only feel mixed emotions. It was creepy, to feel someone’s feelings as if they were part of her, especially as they were unclear. There was anger, frustration, regret, melancholy even, as if Sam had dredged up some uncomfortable memory. And she didn’t know what to think of that—the emotions felt too human to be ignored.

But Sam wasn’t anywhere near ready to acknowledge humanity of her Tok’ra invader, or of any Tok’ra for that matter, no matter their professed opinions. And so because it kept her from worrying, she simmered in anger against her oppressor.

“Sam? Or Jolinar?” Janet’s hesitant voice broke through Sam’s reverie, and Jolinar noticed enough to grant her control.

“It’s me, Janet,” said Sam. “You can’t know that I’m not lying, though, so don’t trust anything I say.

“Well, that sounds like Sam to me, giving good advice,” said Janet.

The door of the cell opened, and Sam raised her head to see Janet wheel her medical cart in—surrounded by two very alert SFs with raised weapons. Sam lowered her head again and sighed.

“How are you feeling today?” Janet asked, coming over to check her vitals.

“Jolinar is doing her best to try and force me to be grateful,” muttered Sam.

“Well, I don’t begrudge her that, at least,” said Janet, marveling as she looked beneath the bandages. “Whatever her motives, she is doing an excellent job. You’re very lucky to be alive at all, Sam, not to mention this much recovered,” she added seriously.

But before Sam could open her mouth, she added: “I know, I know, we’re all as distressed as you, but don’t focus all on the negative.”

“It’s difficult when the negative is insulting you in your head,” muttered Sam, wincing a little as Janet did her checkup.

Janet said nothing, but eyed Sam as she worked. After a couple minutes, she added: “Are you up to visitors? Your team is very worried about this.”

“Have they decided anything?” asked Sam.

“No,” said Janet slowly, her face making it clear that she notice how Sam avoided the question. “The initial briefing was short and to the point, and they’re reassembling today to discuss things further. We’re looking for the best solution, even if it takes time.”

“I don’t want to wait that long,” said Sam.

Janet patted Sam comfortingly on the shoulder, but her eyes were worried as she left her alone again.

*You are very bitter,*  commented Jolinar in Sam’s head after Janet left, and Sam winced again.

~I can’t imagine why,~ said Sam back with a healthy dose of snark that she had picked up from Colonel O’Neill and Daniel. ~I’m the woman on the team, and so far I’ve proved that I’m just as capable, but there’s always that bit of doubt. Well now, no matter what happens, I’ll have been contaminated—compromised. Even if I can get rid of you forever, will they ever trust me again?~

*Hasty judgment once again,* said Jolinar.

~Yes, born of experience,~ said Sam.  ~You know nothing of this world.~ Jolinar fell silent, but Sam could feel the brooding and asked, ~Why do you care?~

*If you die, I die,* she snapped. *And if you are locked away until your ignorant people come up with some cure that will save you and kill me, I will have failed miserably in my task.*

~Task?~

*I cannot speak of it to you.*

~You know, being a little more forthright would get you a lot of points—this secrecy only makes you look more suspicious.~

*It would only bring you to harm to know; it is a matter for my people, and my people alone.*

Sam got a glimpse of a Goa’uld mothership before Jolinar locked down on all her thoughts and buried them away.

~We fight the Goa’uld as well—any knowledge you have could save lives.~

*Why is that?* demanded Jolinar suddenly. *Are you really so foolish that you stuck out your heads to meddle at the first possible moment? Learning of the Goa’uld, you should have buried the gate again and hoped they wouldn’t remember the Tauri, instead of messing with a carefully balanced situation.*

~We didn’t have a choice,~ said Sam, almost spitting the words. ~We hid the gate as we knew how, and a Goa’uld came through and took Daniel’s wife. Even you should be able to understand how impossible it would be to draw back after that.~

*Amonet.* said Jolinar, and the word sounded unsettling in her voice. *She was taken by Amonet, I recognize her in your thoughts.* She spoke no more for several moments.

~And I am just another Sha’re, now~ said Sam. ~Except I will escape.~

ooooooo

“Daniel, stop it!” demanded Jack.

Daniel looked to him, slowed his pacing, and then began it again. He couldn't hold still.

“ColonelO’Neill is right,” said Teal’c. “This is of no purpose.”

“Jack, we’re waiting for a politician to come and decide Sam’s fate,” explained Daniel.

“And what, you’re wearing a hole for him to fall through?” shot back Jack. “Sit down, Daniel. This is an inquiry, that’s all.”

Daniel reluctantly sat down, but he looked at Jack piercingly. “She’s just another Kawalsky in your mind, isn’t she?”

“Daniel, don’t psychoanalyze me,” Jack said in a half growl.

“At least answer the question—do you think she’s been irreversibly contaminated?” pushed Daniel, more forward that usual in his frustration.

“I’m not giving up on my team,” said Jack. “But Daniel, we may not have a choice.”

“What if she’s telling the truth? What if this Jolinar will leave Sam if we let her?” wondered Daniel.

“Daniel, save it for the meeting,” sighed Jack, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Daniel let out a breath, and fell silent. Teal’c watched the two of them with one eyebrow raised, as usual.

As Daniel tapped a nervous rhythm on the table, Jack sighed and put his face in his hands, finally raising it to say in a gentler tone. “Daniel, I know what this means for you.”

“Oh, do you?” murmured Daniel.

“This isn’t just about Sam for you, I know,” said Jack, not speaking the word ‘Sha’re’ but implying it well enough. “But this is a totally different situation, and you need to face it for what it is.”

“It’s just—if we find a way here—” answered Daniel. “Even if Jolinar is a Goa’uld, she’s being more cooperative than Amonet will be; maybe this is the chance we need to find a solution, and we’re handing over the power to some politician’s aide!”

“Hammond couldn’t help it, Daniel,” said Jack. “There’s a chain of command that has to be followed—deal with it.”

A few moments later, General Hammond himself came in the room, followed by a dark-suited man in thin glasses with a briefcase. Jack stretched and made a point of yawning.

“Sorry I’m late,” said the man, sitting down. “Mr. Edwards, I’m an aide to Senator Kinsey and I’m here on his behalf.”

“Oh, we know who you are,” said Jack meaningfully, sitting forward to lean on his arms.

“Can we get this on the move, please?” asked Hammond.

“Of course,” said Edwards. “Now, we’ve all been briefed of the current scenario, so let’s just discuss what options we have. Gentlemen?”

There was a pause, as all the rest of SG-1 seemed to silently protest the business-like demeanor. But it wasn’t as if they had a choice on the manner of the briefing.

“We could attempt to remove the symbiote from Captain Carter,” began Teal’c.

“We could help this Jolinar so that she would leave Sam,” added Daniel.

“We could keep them both locked up until a better option comes along,” said Jack pointedly.

“Mr. Teal’c,” said Edwards, after taking notes on their contributions. “Are you aware of the current research on the symbiote/host relationship in Area 51?”

“Indeed,” said Teal’c.

Edwards blinked, but then continued. “Then you know that we still have not found a reasonable explanation for the failure of Major Kawalsky’s extraction procedure.”

“But hasn’t there been some progress?” asked Daniel. “I mean, surely the knowledge that the Goa’uld can be removed without harm to the host has helped, and they know that there are tendrils that have to be dealt with.”

“Yes, Dr. Jackson,” said Edwards, “the report about Kendra was of some use, but knowing that there is an answer doesn’t make it easier to find.”

“Which is why we should wait,” said Jack.

“But why not explore the possibility that this Jolinar isn’t like the other Goa’uld we’ve seen?” put in Daniel, changing tack. “Surely it’s evident by now that something’s different.”

“A little too perfectly different, don’t you think?” said Edwards, letting the heels of his hands rest on the table as his fingers leaned together. “It’s as if she knew exactly what information would make us stop and think. Clever, shrewd, but not enough that we should believe her.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Daniel, forehead lined as he thought. “It was hardly the best impression and first contact—a crude attempt, really.”

“She knew what to say to get you going, Daniel,” put in Jack reluctantly.

“No, she didn’t,” said Daniel. “She was frustrated with me, insulted me.”

“Goa’uld, Daniel. Arrogance? Even being clever won’t erase that.”

“It didn’t feel like that, Jack,” protested Daniel.

“Gentlemen, you’re missing the vital point here,” broke in Edwards. Jack and Daniel both paused to look at him. “It doesn’t matter if this Jolinar was truthful or not—there’s no reason to trust her, nothing that she offered as a payoff.”

“Other than CaptainCarter,” added Teal’c.

“A worthy goal, to be sure,” said Edwards. “But not enough to risk national security—even Captain Carter would understand that.”

“Exactly,” said Daniel, looking up. “If it were a plan, wouldn’t Jolinar have had something to bargain with? I really think she’s winging it—and maybe we can negotiate, then.”

“Negotiate with a Goa’uld, Daniel?” said Jack skeptically. “Over my dead body!”

“Not with a Goa’uld, Jack,” said Daniel. “If she’s a Goa’uld, even Sam wouldn’t want that—but what if the Tok’ra really are real? It can’t hurt to interrogate Jolinar, in any case.”

“I agree with Dr. Jackson,” said Edwards, prompting both Jack and Daniel to look up in surprise. Edwards finished taking his notes, and put them back in the briefcase. “At this moment, the government is in no great hurry to do anything with the case—there’s just not enough evidence. If and when there is another option, we will discuss this further.”

“This meeting is dismissed,” said General Hammond with a nod. “Colonel O’Neill? Dr. Jackson? You will either take your turns with the prisoner, or interrogate her at once, but I want some answers out of this creature.”

“I will accompany them to verify any information,” said Teal’c.

”Good,” said General Hammond. “Let’s get to it!” He got up and left the table with Edwards.

“That wasn’t too painful,” muttered Jack, rising and stretching. Teal’c stood up as well.

Daniel still sat, tapping his fingers on the table with a frown on his face.

“Well, Daniel?” asked Jack. “You got extra time, you got permission to talk to the damned thing, what’s wrong?”

“What happens if we get nothing?” asked Daniel. “Are we going to get something worse next?”

“Yes,” said Jack bluntly. “So, Daniel, get up and do your job. Carter’s counting on us.”

Daniel sighed and stood up, collecting the  notepad and pen he had not written on. It was all too anticlimactic—there was something bubbling under the surface that would erupt soon into something else, and he was worried that he wouldn’t see it coming.

ooooooo

Sam just wanted to feel alone. Jolinar’s presence gave her no immediate fear, and she wasn’t even worried about what the symbiote might be able to do to her—immersion in this world of being host had numbed her to any horror, and now she was merely frustrated. Not merely, though—almost all of her consciousness was full of seething, simmering, boiling, growing frustration, and only Jolinar’s control kept it from escaping.

Jolinar was refusing to speak to Sam, which, considering Sam’s opinion of her symbiote, was good for them both at the moment. Sam felt a bit of victory at beating her tormentor into silence, even though she had a feeling that Jolinar could give better than she got if she felt like it. But no, the symbiote was hidden in her own thoughts, and Sam didn’t want to give anything away by an equal indulgence.

God, she just wanted to feel comfortable in her own thoughts again!

On the up side, she probably could have moved if she was in control. It had been very unnerving to literally be able to feel her body knitting itself together, becoming as flawless as if fire had never touched it. It wasn’t there yet—there were still many areas where she could feel the burn of bright red scorches, as Jolinar had addressed nerve damage first. But her head at least was fully healed, and her pain was only moderate. Janet had not administered any further pain medicine out of ignorance of what that would do—Jolinar had informed and even insisted that it would change nothing, but both Sam and Janet were skeptical enough to refuse.

Though Sam was aching to move, to shake off her growing tension, Jolinar had no such desire. Perhaps it was because she was too busy healing, perhaps she did not give over control for fear that Sam would injure what she was trying to heal, or perhaps she didn’t feel the need—Janet had propped up the hospital bed in a sitting position, and that’s how Sam lay, unswaveringly.

She saw a shadow outside the cell door, and the guards turned as the door opened and Daniel and Jack walked in. Sam’s heart leapt a bit, and even Jolinar seemed to pay attention. Jack said something quiet to the guards, and they left their watch on the barred area to stand outside the closed door.

“Well?” asked Jolinar. “Bring you news?”

“As if you deserve any!” said Jack briskly. “You can just stop expecting any courtesy—you won’t get any.”

“I assume you are not on a social call,” continued Jolinar unfazed.

“Not in your presence, I think not,” said Jack, settling in his stance a few feet from the door.

“We’ve been authorized to negotiate with you,” added Daniel, more mollifying.

The door opened again, and Teal’c entered.

“Ah, the whole team,” commented Jolinar. “You are the highest officials this base has to offer?”

“We are the most qualified for this scenario, yes,” said Daniel, avoiding giving information that was unnecessary.

“You know, Daniel here wants to vouch for you,” put in Jack. “But all I’m seeing is Goa’uld arrogance, simple and unjustified. You’re only asking for a swift end.”

Sam didn’t know what to think of the opening volley, but she couldn’t help but feel that both sides didn’t seem to think she was there. She didn’t actually know how much she was, or even if she wanted to. Deeply set in her own mind, she watched with worry.

ooooooo

Jolinar glared from Sam’s face, a disconcerting sight to anyone who was familiar with Sam’s usual expression. “What do you wish?” she asked.

“Actually, the question is more, what do you wish?” said Daniel.

Jolinar snorted. “My freedom—and a new host, for I will not stay in an unwilling one. I have no designs.”

“Well, that’s, that’s good,” said Daniel, a little surprised. He exchanged glances with a suspicious-looking Jack.

“Sorry, not going to happen,” Jack answered Jolinar. “If you haven’t noticed, we aren’t the sort of people who offer one of ours as a sacrifice.”

“Have you no people who would wish to fight the Goa’uld more effectively than this frail base can?” demanded Jolinar.

“By being a host? You have got to be insane!” said Jack.

Daniel understood the truth of Jack's words, but he had to question the delivery.

“No it is only that you are bound by your ignorant prejudices,” Jolinar countered. “The Tok’ra have only survived because of the willingness of some to forego a little convenience for the sake of all.”

“A little convenience, right,” drawled Jack. “Losing your body and mind to a snake—sure, that’s real small.”

“The Tok’ra do not take!” said Jolinar, flashing her eyes again. “Host and symbiote share the body equally, asking permission.”

“So you keep saying...” said Jack, but the tip of his head towards her was obviously Jack’s implication that actions spoke louder than words.

“We don’t have another host for you,” said Daniel curtly. “Sorry. Anything else?”

“If you let me go through the gate, I promise that I will find another host and return your Carter to you,” swore Jolinar.

Daniel and Jack shared a knowing look, then Daniel spoke. “Jolinar, I’m afraid we can’t allow that. Even if we trusted you to follow through, you know too much about our facilities. You have access to Sam’s mind, for all we can tell, and everything she knew. We aren’t going to let that just walk through our gate.”

“Then I am a prisoner with no hope of escape,” countered Jolinar. “What possible motive could I have to cooperate with you?”

“It wouldn’t be so hopeless if you had demands that made sense,” retorted Jack.

“Eventually we will find a way to remove you from Sam,” said Daniel gravely. “Your actions now will decide whether we let you live or die then.”

Jolinar gave them the silent treatment, and Jack was about to burst in with a biting comment when an SF pulled him to the side to speak to him.

Daniel sighed, squinted, and took off his glasses. Brow furrowed, he rubbed them on his cotton t-shirt and put them back on. Jolinar was still glaring.

“Okay, change of plans!” said Jack crisply as the SF left. Daniel recognized the tone as Jack’s over-bright way of dealing with trouble, and waited for the shoe to drop. “So, Jolly, wanna tell us why, since you’re so honorable, you didn’t let us know about your other Goa’uld friend?”

“I have none,” answered Jolinar swiftly, but her brow furrowed.

“Well, an escaped prisoner who left behind a trail of victims claiming attack by a hand device would say otherwise,” said Jack, giving a glance over to Daniel.

Jolinar did not look the least bit guilty—instead, she lowered her head a little, and gazed at them squarely. “It is the ashrak.”

”Riiiiight,” said Jack. He turned to Daniel and Teal’c, eyebrows raised.

“An assassin,” said Teal’c.

“Great,” muttered Jack.

“He is looking only for me,” said Jolinar. “I am his mission.”

“And, you didn’t tell us about this earlier, why?” asked Jack.

“I thought he might have perished,” said Jolinar. “And secrecy was the best option. He does not know my face, nor I his.”

“Assassin incognito, just what we need,” said Jack.

“We still don’t know where he is?” asked Daniel, worried.

“Nope, could be anywhere. And since this is a galactic waste of my time, I’m going to go do something about that.” Jack marched off with a final withering glance to Jolinar.

“My services also would be of better use elsewhere, as I can with focus detect the presence of a Goa’uld in its host,” said Teal’c.

“Right,” said Daniel, watching as his support left the room.

Jolinar settled back into the hospital bed and eyed Daniel. “Well?”

“I don’t get it,” said Daniel, arms resting crossed over his chest. “You have an assassin after you, and so you insult the only people who could help you.”

“You cannot help me,” said Jolinar. “Only I can stage my own escape. And this is no new scenario, I have been trailed for over two hundred years by one ashrak or another.”

Daniel blinked. “Oh.”

“You will not find him,” added Jolinar. “He has been studying the ways of infiltration and subterfuge since long before your oldest citizen was born.”

“Well, we’re pretty secure here—he can’t just waltz in,” said Daniel, though frowning. “You don’t have any advice about how to find him?”

“I have sought to avoid him, not attack him—even I would consider that foolish,” said Jolinar.

“Well, we have different resources. Why don’t you tell us what you know?” Daniel asked hopefully.

Jolinar eyed him suspiciously. “And why should I offer up information to ones who have no thought of returning the favor?”

“What, you want information?” asked Daniel.

“No, I want my freedom, but you do not seem to want what I can give you in payment.”

“Yeah, it’s frustrating,” said Daniel. “To be honest, I’m not sure what I think about your motives. I know Jack and Hammond are dead set against you, but Teal’c might eventually come to your side. We just need more proof of good will.”

“The more you know, the more you are put in danger,” said Jolinar sharply. “Especially as long as I am here.”

“Well, do you see that changing any time soon?” asked Daniel. “You’re digging your own grave.”

Jolinar said nothing for a moment, then cocked her head as if remembering something. “I can help you find her,” she said.

“What?” asked Daniel, surprised and confused.

“Sha’re—I know where she is. If you help me escape—”

“Don’t,” said Daniel shortly. “I don’t know what you’ve pulled from Sam’s head, but bringing it up now only shows desperation, not trustworthiness.”

“If you think it a bribe, then go to your superiors—this is not all I know that may be of interest to you, if my freedom is but promised.” Jolinar gave a half-smile, but Daniel could feel the manipulation. And maybe, yes, maybe it was only hiding desperation. He didn’t like it, and turned to leave.

“Your loss,” added Jolinar muttering.

Daniel turned back to face her. “Sam?” he said earnestly, giving Jolinar cause to pause in surprise. “Whatever happens—I’m so sorry.” Then he left.

Things were getting more twisted by the hour, and Daniel was losing what hope he had.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - Catalyst

~Why did you do that, bring up Sha’re?~ demanded Sam. ~Of all the cards to play, Daniel wouldn’t go for that one.~

*What, now you have thoughts?* said Jolinar. *And yet your mind was silent for all that time, giving me nothing.*

~I just wanted to watch you fail,~ said Sam.

*You are even more of a fool than I first imagined,* muttered Jolinar.

~You only say that because I am growing defiant,~ answered Sam. ~You don’t like that, do you.~

*You speak of what you know not,* spat Jolinar. *And I grow weary of it.*

Sam felt another moment of grief flash from Jolinar before she stuffed it down, and Sam doubted for a moment. ~You’re not lying, are you,~ she said.

*Why would I?* retorted Jolinar shortly. *If I wished, I could lie to you all I wanted, and you would never emerge to reveal it. But can you name one thing that I have said that I have not supported?*

~You haven’t left me, yet,~ said Sam, but she knew it was a excuse that was wearing thin. ~But why get so angry? It only makes people suspicious.~

*As if I choose to,* snorted Jolinar. *I am but at war with my nature, as are you all—my anger is not a negotiation technique.*

~Okay, so you have a temper,~ acknowledged Sam, feeling almost tickled at having drawn this information from the symbiote. She stopped to think. ~Why can’t you see everything in my mind?~ she asked. ~We always assumed that the Goa’uld could do so.~

*They can,* said Jolinar. *But I am not one of them.*

~So you lose that by becoming a Tok’ra?~ Sam couldn’t believe she was talking like this to—to whatever Jolinar was.

*Not physically. But the sharing of minds can only come when both are open to the idea of blending, or when the symbiote overpowers and forces its way into the host’s mind. As the latter is both torturous for the host and a misuse of power for the symbiote, the Tok’ra only accept the minds of those willing to blend. As you are not.*

~Oh,~ said Sam, starting to feel strange. ~So you can’t see any of my thoughts?~

*Only those you recklessly let loose where I can see them,* said Jolinar. *I have been used to only blended relationships—your closed mind is just another frustration to this situation.*

~What, on top of the assassin coming for us? You do have a plan, right?~

*Die with honor,* said Jolinar darkly.

Sam felt a twinge of fear. ~Exactly what does that mean?~

*All the years I have escaped from these ashrak they send, I have been free to move as I pleased. Trapped here, I have no course of action.*

~You are not taking me with you,~ ordered Sam. ~If you really wish to leave me unharmed, you won’t give up.~

*I have not, but there is no option open at the moment,* said Jolinar wearily.

Sam didn’t say anything in response, just began to run over all the variables in the situation.

ooooooo

“So, no luck with Jolly?” asked Jack, as Daniel came up to where he was at the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain.

“She didn’t have anything else to say,” intoned Daniel. “Oh wait, no, she brought up Sha’re. Then I left.” His arms rested uncomfortably across his chest.

“Bitch,” muttered Jack.

“She was probably just desperate,” allowed Daniel. “But I’m not in the mood.”

“Yeah, that whole conversation has me in the mood to kill some Goa’uld,” said Jack, holding his gun firmly.

“I don’t know if I want to kill anything, I just want this to be over with,” said Daniel a little disgustedly.

“Yeah, and how would that be?”

“We might just have to remove her from Sam,” said Daniel curtly.

“What, no negotiation?” Jack looked a little surprised.

“Time’s running out for Sam if a Goa’uld is trying to find her—and I can’t negotiate with someone who isn’t willing to cooperate.” Daniel looked grim.

Jack grunted in agreement.

“So, what are we doing here?” asked Daniel rather pathetically after a second. There was some piece of equipment at the door connected to a computer, two marines standing by, and Jack a few feet off and armed as usual.

“All entry points are forcing palm scans—only base personnel allowed.”

“You think it will work?” asked Daniel.

“No,” said Jack, indicating his gun.

Daniel nodded. “So, I was thinking, why does helping people always lead to complications for us? Not for SG-3, or SG-5, or any other SG team...usually just us.”

“Because we’re special, Daniel,” said Jack as if Daniel was his four-year-old son, but the disgust was hidden beneath. “Have you reported to Hammond?” he asked, deftly changing the subject.

“Yeah,” said Daniel. “Well, not a full report, you know, just the main points. Edwards is going to report back in a few hours, and if we don’t have the Goa’uld by then, we might have to make a decision.”  He trailed off, and looked at Jack. After a moment, he added. “Jack, what is with you? I mean, I thought you’d be all up in arms about this.”

“Daniel, we’ve been through this,” said Jack. “It’s not like I can do anything.”

“That doesn’t really stop you at other times,” pointed out Daniel.

“You want my thoughts?” demanded Jack. “This is damned unfair. Carter’s the one person who’s consistently cautious and careful on our missions, and always watching our backs—and this happens anyway. I don’t want to lose all my people, Daniel—they’re always the best, and I just can’t take anymore. But if I start mouthing off, that worm Edwards is going to start making rash decisions, and Carter deserves more than that from us.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

Jack gave him a look. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Daniel.

Another camo-clothed denizen walked past them, and Daniel frowned. He looked to Jack. “Wait, what’s that?”

They both looked to the palm reader, where the computer was flashing red and the marine stood as if in a daze.

“Damn it!” swore Jack, and looked over his shoulder. The perpetrator was gone. “Grab a gun, Daniel, he’s after Carter!” he called as he dashed down the hall.

Daniel ran over to the marines, shaking them until they roused themselves. “Get to the infirmary,” advised Daniel. He grabbed one of their sidearms, and then followed after Jack.

He had been hoping for something to change so that the decision would be clear. Now all he wished for was that there would still be a decision to make.

ooooooo

After another idea gave her only frustration, Sam stopped to let her mind cool down.

*You really think your people will keep you safe,* said Jolinar finally after a long silence.

~Yes. And no. I always want to have a plan B; but they know what to look for, I don’t think they’ll be caught off guard.~

*They’re facing a foe that is unfamiliar to them, and specifically trained to get past them. I hope you have a plan B soon,* Jolinar finished grimly.

~What, you can’t think for yourself?~ asked Sam.

*To escape or defend a facility whose only rooms I have seen have been medical center and holding cell? I’m not that overconfident,* said Jolinar. *My only reliance can be on you.*

~I don’t know if that’s a compliment, but it doesn’t really matter,~ said Sam. ~Wait, you said escape?~

*My first plan is hardly dying here,* snorted Jolinar.

~I hadn’t been considering those options,~ said Sam.

*I did notice,* said Jolinar.

~I think you’re right here,~ acknowledged Sam reluctantly. ~There’s no hope cornered, if that ashrak really knows where you are.~

*By now he will have become aware of the situation with you—your people have not been discreet,* said Jolinar with dark disapproval.

~Can I have control?~  Sam suddenly asked, feeling odd, but familiar enough with the symbiote to make the question odd only due to her former defiance.

Jolinar silently granted her power of her limbs. Sam was feeling better—sore and burning in areas, but ready to move. She had to move, the tension was getting to her. Sitting fully up, she found that she only had to wince a little, and even standing completely up didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should have. Symbiotes were good for something, she decided.

*You’re welcome,* said Jolinar with dark humor.

“Okay, I think I’ve got something,” said Sam, glad to be speaking out loud at last. Her throat was dry, but she cleared it, and then made her way to the cell door.

*Your plan?* inquired Jolinar.

“You give me super strength, right?” asked Sam.

*At full health, yes, your strength would be greater than naturally,* said Jolinar, with a smirk at the “super” part that Sam could almost seem to see.

“The guards are guarding the door from outside now. Can I rip a pin from the lock if I can get to it?”

*Yes,* said Jolinar, catching on quickly.

Sam carefully removed her IV, and then ripped the tubing from the plastic back. Walking gingerly over to the door, her burns threatening to scream at any moment, she stretched her fingers for a second before using the needle to rip the tubing into thinner pieces. When she had a small enough piece of plastic, she poked her finger at the lock.

“Yes,” she muttered satisfactorily. Carefully, she began to thread the plastic into the lock, dodging this and that piece of the mechanism, and wrapping around one part she knew would be useful for her plan. After circling the part a couple times, she threaded the plastic out again. “Jolinar?”

Jolinar took control for a second and with a sharp pull, the lock snapped loudly and Sam’s tender shoulder screamed. Jolinar granted the control back to Sam, who swallowed her pain before getting back to the lock. With that one part broken, Sam used the IV needle to poke another part aside, then drawing another part forward, until the lock was sufficiently unstable. Jolinar saw the last part of the plan, took control again, and grasping the bars of the cell, pulled the door away from the wall.

The lock broke and the door opened.

“Chock one up for Macgyver,” muttered Sam with a dark grin. She moved carefully over to the locked door and peeked through. The two marines were standing nervously, having been warned that a Goa’uld might be headed their way, determined to hold the locked cell from any intruders.

“I can’t unlock this one,” whispered Sam. “It’s electronic, and would need a hack, and I have nothing.”

Suddenly Jolinar took over her limbs.

~Hey,~ said Sam, caught off guard and suddenly terrified that she had made an error in judgment.

*I have been more than usually patient,* said Jolinar. *Now that you have come to your senses and realized that the only way out is cooperation, you will have to forgive me if I take initiative.*

Sam’s fear was proven false. Though every part of her mind still flinched at the invasion, her logic forced her to grant a semblance of permission to Jolinar.

Jolinar moved into a solid position behind the door, then let out a terrified scream in a quiet tone, so that it could have been coming from across the room. Sam was surprised at the genuine terror that Jolinar infused into her ploy; she was a competent actress. Sam watched as the marines jumped at the sound, looking worried out of their minds, and fumbled for the key card to open the door. They stumbled in, but only a moment of confusion was granted them, as Jolinar stepped forward and neatly knocked their heads together.

~You didn’t need to do that,~ said Sam.

*Desperate times,* said Jolinar. *And will it not save them a ‘court-martial’?*

Sam didn’t answer. Jolinar reached down, picked up the key card and a sidearm, and then neatly stripped the coat from the man. Putting it on over her hospital scrubs, she held the gun in one hand and the card in another, then marched out of the door and down the hall.

~Wait, where are you going?~ asked Sam, unsure.

*To the Stargate,* said Jolinar.

~No,~ commanded Sam. ~If you are anything you say you are, you will march back to that cell.~

*And wait for my trial and execution? I am facing two enemies now.*

~You said this was just an accident, that you were saving us both,~ pushed Sam. ~And now you’re kidnapping me?~

*The safest place is off-world,* pushed Jolinar back. *The ashrak could appear at any moment, and he deals out death swiftly.*

~And we’ll never get back,~ declared Sam. ~My GDO code will be locked out, and I’ll be stranded off-world, no matter what happens to you. I think not.~

*Death is preferable to banishment? Your race can be idiotic as well as strange,* Jolinar declared bluntly. *Well, I will not allow you to be so.*

~So you don’t really share, you just do what you think is best,~ said Sam darkly.

*Will you despise me forever if I continue down this path of action?* asked Jolinar pointedly, pausing to wait for an answer.

Sam felt manipulated, frustrated, and begrudging all at once. Jolinar was using the danger to get her freedom, and yet she had only good points that Sam really didn’t want to have to acknowledge. She felt that if she said ‘yes’ now, Jolinar would stop—when had she started to trust a symbiote? What was wrong with her? And yet, wasn’t it her duty to survive? Sam felt that she might regret this, but no more than if she stayed and found that a mistake had been made. It was a devil’s choice, and Sam decided to go with the path of least resistance and at least some hope.

~No, I won’t hate you. But I go protesting.~

*Good,* said Jolinar bluntly, and began walking again.

Jolinar chose the halls of least traffic, the stairs instead of the elevator, as most personnel were stationed for battle against a Goa’uld invader and she read from Sam’s mind where those stations would be.

*Well, any more information? Or are you going to be tight-lipped and bitter?*  asked Jolinar as they neared the gate-room.

~The gate-room will be heavily guarded. And I’m not going to let you get away with shooting anyone.~ answered Sam.

*If I but stun?*

~You mean use a zat gun?~

*Zat’nik’tel. Why must you corrupt and bastardize perfectly meaningful language?* muttered Jolinar.

~I bet you’ve always hated how long that word was,~ challenged Sam, and was gratified to not receive an immediate response—probably Jolinar’s way of avoiding admission of loss in an argument.

Catching a random stray thought of Sam’s and latching onto it, Jolinar found an armory and snatched a zat for her own. Down the hall, there were footsteps approaching, and so, hurrying, even as the quick movement tore at scabs, Jolinar ran towards the gate-room.

Sam had been right, and the marines were on guard. But Jolinar was swift and expertly talented, glancing off five shots of the zat before they acknowledged their presence, and downing the other marines in their shock and confusion at the escape of their prisoner. Before even all that was done, she was charging up the stairs. Sam cringed as she saw and felt herself being used to take down her people, but as she could feel no malice coming from Jolinar, she couldn’t bring herself to be bitter.

Jolinar approached the terrified gate technicians. “Open the gate, now!” she demanded.

“We—can’t. Sorry,” stammered one, a brainy looking man without a gun.

“Put the zat down!” demanded the second gate tech, a woman with a fierce red ponytail, who had whipped out a gun after overcoming her second of shock.

Jolinar eyed her, assessing her strengths. When the woman did not make a move as Jolinar refused, it was a quick-draw, and the enhanced reflexes of the symbiote won. The woman spasmed and went down in blue lightning, but not before her weapon fired, and a bullet grazed through Sam’s shoulder. Jolinar winced, but her eyes flashed, and the other gate tech seemed about to die of fright.

“I will not ask again,” said Jolinar slowly, stepping forward and towering over him.

“I can’t!” he squeaked.

~Tell him to do it quietly and no one gets hurt, but tell him you’ll blow the whole place if he doesn’t. That should give him an excuse that will get him out of trouble,~  said Sam, betraying her own and hating herself for it.

“Let me through the gate, or I will overload your systems and send this pathetic facility in all directions and in tiny pieces,” threatened Jolinar. “Do you want to be the instrument of so many deaths?”

“You—you wouldn’t,” said the gate-tech.

Jolinar cast a lazy glance over the zatted bodies, her performance convincing in its languid determination.

The gate-tech swallowed and quickly typed in his password. Jolinar zatted him for good measure, and stepped forward. “Waste of time,” she muttered, pausing and then quickly typing something into the computer that Sam didn’t recognize before punching in an address that Sam did not know.

~I didn’t have the password. But you didn’t have to zat him.~

“I don’t leave loose ends that could spoil the plan,” said Jolinar. “He’ll be fine.”

The gate shuddered and started to dial.

~You’re burning all your bridges,~ added Sam, as Jolinar stepped down to the ramp, ripping a piece of the scrubs to stop the bleeding from the shoulder wound. ~You won’t ever gain their trust now.~

*I don’t need it,* said Jolinar.

The gate locked the final chevron, and as the burst of blue watery wormhole filled the room, there was the sound of a gun cocking behind them. Jolinar turned, and there was another marine—his eyes flashed.

“Jolinar of Malkshur, you will perish by the order of the System Lords,” he declared in tones that rang through the room.

Jolinar cursed to herself, and ran up the ramp in a final effort. A sudden spray of bullets followed, and before she launched herself through the wormhole, Sam felt the impact and two new holes in her side and shoulder. The wormhole travel was brief, and as they rolled out of the gate on the other side, Sam would have screamed in agony had she been able. She was shot, twice plus a graze, and the new sharp pain was added to her nearly-fresh burns that sent pulses of pain.

Jolinar held up her weapon to the event horizon in case the ashrak would follow, but apparently he saw too much risk in going to an unknown planet. The wormhole shut down, and with a sigh of released tension, Jolinar gave in to the pain. They were seeping blood out onto the hard ground, and Jolinar used all her strength to stop what she could. Sam’s consciousness was overwhelmed, though, and she began to lose it. Darkness was filling her sight, and her last thought was how terrible her luck must be, given that she was actually relieved to be a host on a strange planet with extensive injuries.

~Godawful luck; what higher power did I piss off?~

The irony attached to that particular turn of phrase didn’t escape her or Jolinar, but any response was lost as Sam faded out of consciousness again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 - Burnt Bridges

Though awaking after unneeded rest, Sam came to with a burden of weariness. The pain was greater than it had been the last time she awoke, and though it was still only throbbing, her emotions were already affected. She had survived, but by destroying probably her only possible options back to a normal life. And Jolinar was very clearly still present. Sam wasn’t sure she could handle all three.

~God, I hate you,~ was her first thought, blunt and earnest.

*I’ll keep in mind that I should let you die to avoid this reaction,* said Jolinar, who was obviously still trying to heal Sam.

~The sarcasm is not appreciated,~ snapped Sam.

*Neither is the ingratitude,* bit back Jolinar.

~You deserve little,~ said Sam bitterly. After a moment, the flare of anger faded to an ember. ~Okay, you deserve a bit. But I can give that and not have to be grateful for the chaos and trouble you brought into my life.~

*At least you have one,* said Jolinar.

~For how long?~

*We need to focus on the present, not the future,* said Jolinar brusquely. *After you lost consciousness, I used your left arm to halt the bleeding in the bullet wounds on your side. One struck a rib high on your right side, the other imbedded itself lower down in the tissue, though not in any organ. The bullet that grazed your shoulder did enough damage that I couldn’t use it until after stopping the bleeding, and then repairing the nerve damage. That’s all I’ve been able to do so far, so we have a long road before you start demanding what my future plans are.*

~All right, all right~  said Sam. ~Where’s the Stargate?~

*I crawled to the tree-line for safety,* said Jolinar. *No one’s come through, there’s no immediate danger, so please be silent while I do my work.*

Sam felt like a child being rebuked, and her rebellion began to grow strong—but her common sense was still ruling, and she bit everything down. Of course, it would have been easier to actively rebel; the pain was so great, and her doubt and worry was turning to despair. They were free, but where would they go? And once Jolinar took a new host, how would Sam get back? She couldn’t go directly without a good GDO, a ship would take years without hyperspace, which she was pretty sure was only on ships too large for her to acquire, and there were no allies with GDOs that she could remember. The best course of action would be to seek out an SG team on a mission, but that would be random guessing—it could take years.

And then what? They wouldn’t—couldn’t—welcome her with open arms. There would be hundreds of tests, weeks at least of confinement, and a possibility that she would never be allowed in the SGC again. After all, she would have been taken by the enemy, a highly advanced enemy, and even if the symbiotic presence was gone, they could never know what had been done to her.

If they let her back to the base at all. They might just suspect a spy or a tracking device or a bomb or some other trap, and shoot her on sight or keep her locked up indefinitely. No, she was well and truly screwed at every turn. And she could have avoided it by staying in the SGC, or at least some of it. But then she would almost surely be dead, and was that really better?

*No,* put in Jolinar, and Sam bit back a resentful protest at the invasion of—well, the symbiote couldn’t help that there was no privacy.

~Do you have any estimate on how soon I’ll be able to move again?~ asked Sam wearily.

*Many hours. And even then, not for long. Another trip through the Stargate, and then at least a day of bed-rest. I am growing incredibly fatigued at tending to the stress put upon the healing tissue and stitches.*

~But there’s no food, no shelter here,~ said Sam. ~So what planet will we go to?~

*The Tok’ra home-world, of course,* said Jolinar. *There you can be properly healed.*

Sam felt a burst of panic, but she suppressed it. ~I don’t think I trust you that far.~

*You’d rather stay here? The ashrak may know this address. He is planning his course carefully, so the delay is only temporary.*

~If he survived at all,~ countered Sam. ~But just because I cooperated with you for a short time doesn’t mean I trust you. Far from it—I have absolutely no way to fully confirm your story. ~

*As if you could defend yourself if I was false,* snorted Jolinar. *I am growing equally weary of your attitude. Thankfully you will see it proved incorrect shortly.*

Sam had to admit—her suspicions had not seen any evidence, at least not recently. But she was a skeptic, and wouldn’t let her guard down.

*Suit yourself,*  said Jolinar as no protest came from Sam.

There being nothing to be on guard against at the moment, Sam tried to focus on ignoring the pain. She had never been good at meditation, but thankfully the weakness of her body served her well, and she drifted off to sleep.

She didn’t dream, again, and woke up with a yawn and—she realized she was in control. In fact, she couldn’t really feel Jolinar at all. ~Uh, Jolinar?~

*So now you wake?* The symbiote sounded just a bit testy.

~What were you doing?~

*I cannot heal you any further without sustenance and rest, which you so graciously disturbed.*

~Hey, as if I can control when I wake up.~ Sam discovered that she felt the pain less now, and was able to sit up relatively well. Carefully, she moved her right arm. The barely healed wounds stretched, but she felt relatively all together. ~Thanks,~ she said sincerely. ~I thought I was going to lose it.~

*You did,* said Jolinar bluntly, but Sam couldn’t bring herself to be ruffled at the symbiote’s lack of tact.

~So, can we get this over with?~ asked Sam. ~What happens when we reach your home-world and I’m fully healed?~

*I will request a new host, as I promised,* said Jolinar.

~So, this might be over in a matter of days?~ asked Sam hopefully.

Jolinar kept a brooding silence for a moment, and Sam’s heart sunk.

~Okay, what’s wrong?~ she asked.

*I cannot leave you for another week at least,* said Jolinar.

~What, why?~

*It is a dangerous and weakening process, to take a new host,* answered Jolinar. *I have spent most of my strength healing you so many times, and even once you are fully healed and I am recovered, my departure is not an easy or pleasant prospect.*

Sam’s mind got flashes of images, of the physical form of Jolinar and how she was literally blended in with Sam’s spine. It was disturbing, and Sam didn’t want to think of it, but she thought she might understand. ~So, it actually rips part of you to leave a host?~ she asked.

*To put it simply. It is not good for a symbiote to remove to a new host more than once in a year, let alone the time we have spent. It has never been done. I may die.*

Sam didn’t say anything. A piece of her was ready to leap to say ‘oh, don’t risk your life, I don’t expect you to leave so soon’—and a deeper piece was still so full of disgust that she couldn’t fully stomach the prospect of having Jolinar in her head any longer than necessary.

But was guilt necessary? ~I—I don’t want you to die,~ Sam offered. It was weak, but it was all she could give.

*That’s a change,* said Jolinar, and Sam could almost see an imaginary eyebrow rise.

~I think we can work something out,~ said Sam, growing a little bolder. ~Besides, if you died while I was with your people, I doubt they’d let me go free and clear.~

*You have much to learn of the Tok’ra, then,* said Jolinar, less pleased.

Sam was a little surprised, but had nothing further to say.

*You should sleep again,* said Jolinar. *I will finish with the necessary repairs, and then we will be on the move.*

~Good, I hate waiting,~ said Sam. It took her a few minutes to stop thinking about all the complications they had been discussing, but she was well ready for rest again.

ooooooo

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” said Jack, hands on hips as they all assembled in the control room.

“She knocked out the guards, and apparently disappeared through the gate before we got the ashrak,” explained Daniel.

“Apparently?” asked Jack.

”Well, no one actually saw her, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go,” said Daniel with a heavy sigh. “And there was blood on the ramp, but the ashrak wasn’t wounded—well, not then anyway.”

“This is just great,” ground out Jack.

“Do we know to which planet Jolinar took CaptainCarter?” asked Teal’c.

“No,” said Daniel, disappointed. “She must have used Sam’s knowledge to block the computer from logging the planet.”

“And the ashrak was the only one in the room to see the address?” asked Hammond.

“Yes,” said Daniel. “We have someone reviewing the security footage, but she was efficient in every other way, so I doubt they’ll get much.”

“Not that I blame whoever killed that bastard, but...” Jack trailed off. “What were you doing near the gate room, Daniel?”

“I thought it was the most likely place for the ashrak to go, after I saw that Jolinar had been released somehow. I thought he might have kidnapped her to escape through the Stargate,” said Daniel. “Where did you go?”

“Towards a different exit,” said Jack grimly. “What a botch-up this was!”

“Let me get this straight,” said Hammond, stepping forward between the two. “This Jolinar has been wounded, and has escaped through the gate to some unknown planet?”

“Yes sir,” said Daniel.

“Then the first thing we need to do is change SG-1’s GDO code, and any other codes that Carter might have known,” said Hammond.

“And then?” asked Daniel.

“There’s nothing we can do then, Dr. Jackson, other than continue the working of this facility,” said Hammond grimly.

“So what, we leave her behind? Declare her MIA?” asked Daniel. “That’s it?”

“What do you want, Daniel, a memorial service?” asked Jack.

”God, no,” said Daniel earnestly. “But she’s out there...” and he trailed off, as he could see in the others’ faces the word they were failing to say. Like Sha’re.

“I’m sorry Daniel, but we can’t do anything,” said Jack, coming forward and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Isn’t that just becoming the theme of my life,” muttered Daniel, trying hard to swallow down the emotion.

“CaptainCarter will be much missed during her absence,” said Teal’c, dipping his head respectfully.

”Yeah, thanks for the optimism,Teal’c,” said Daniel with a weak smile.

“We’ll find her,” promised Jack, but Daniel wondered if it was meant for him or for Jack.

“All teams will be advised to only zat Captain Carter if they come across her,” said Hammond. “We aren’t giving up yet, Dr. Jackson. We’ll do what we can.”

“Sir, about SG-1?” asked Jack seriously.

“You’ll need to find a new member,” said Hammond. “But there’s no need now—you’ll be on stand-down for a  week. You’re in no shape to go out on a mission yet.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Jack.

Hammond nodded, and marched off to give further orders. Daniel stood, looking out over the gate room where already things were being cleaned up. The ashrak, zatted twice by a marine who came on the scene just a few seconds late to see anything useful, was being removed to a science lab. And there was blood being cleaned up—not a lot, but it was Sam’s.

“We should go eat somewhere tonight,” put in Jack.

“I would be most interested in seeing one of your planet’s ‘restaurants’,” said Teal’c.

Daniel looked at them both and understood. They were warriors—they couldn’t do anything other than repression. It wasn’t Daniel, but he could handle it. For now. “That sounds good,” he offered.

Jack looked relieved, and nodded. “O’Malley’s it is.”

And the rest of SG-1 went off to their other duties, feeling less like a team than they ever had.

ooooooo

Sam was surprised to wake up feeling significantly better. It couldn’t just be the lessening of pain, it must be that she knew where she was going. She couldn’t look further than that, and if she looked closely enough she didn’t even want to go where she was going, but she knew. Things were so far gone that this was enough.

~Well, Jol?~ she asked in a brighter tone than she had ever used around the symbiote.

*Jol?* asked Jolinar in utter disbelief.

Sam felt like Colonel O’Neill, and was quite amused. ~What, are you always called Jolinar?~

*Yes,* answered Jolinar.

~Do you mind Jol?~ asked Sam in a half-curious half-innocent tone.

There was a pause. Then, *If I answer yes, it will only further encourage you.*

Sam bit back a mental laugh. ~You’re starting to understand, I get it. But you haven’t answered.~

*If it signifies that you do not hate me, I do not care,* said Jolinar.

~I think you do, but never mind. Let’s get on with it, shall we?~ As Jolinar was still in control, she responded by standing up and moving towards the gate. Sam thought she might have sensed confusion from the symbiote, as well as a little suspicion. Well, it was her fault if she hadn’t figured out that Sam could be good natured if she was confident of the outcome. Not that Sam was overly confident...but her worries could be suppressed for the moment.

Jolinar’s stride across the field was slow and steady, marked by occasional stumbling as muscles gave way. Sam was definitely weaker than she was comfortable with.

~Janet would kill me if she knew I was moving about in this condition,~ thought Sam with a pang of regret. She already missed the sprightly female doctor, not to mention Daniel and Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c.

*I promise you, you will return to your friends if it is at all possible with the resources of the Tok’ra,* said Jolinar, hearing her melancholy thoughts.

The funny thing was, this time Sam was ready to believe her. Believe that she would try, anyway.

As they reached the gate, Jolinar stopped for a moment and just stared at the DHD. As Sam began to wonder, she suddenly closed her eyes, leaving Sam equally as blind. Then Sam felt Jolinar stretch out her hand and press the buttons on the DHD for an address.

~What are you doing?~ asked Sam, somewhat confused, though thinking she might guess the answer.

*It will go more easily for you if you do not know our gate address,*  said Jolinar.

Feeling a little cheated, Sam grudgingly understood the procedure.

The kawoosh burst, and Sam felt that Jolinar’s emotion made her heart beat a little faster. It was very strange, her body answering the commands of two minds almost at once. Then they stepped through. The planet on the other side was a desert wasteland, empty of everything in sight.

*Home,* thought Jolinar in a longing whisper, to herself and not to Sam.

Sam looked around in some confusion, but at least one suspicion was gone—Jolinar had been sincere in her desire to go home.

*Let’s go—my people will have seen us and will be here shortly,* said Jolinar, though, not allowing herself more than a moment of relief.

~Here we go,~ thought Sam as they stepped forward.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 - Immersion

They had not gone more than twenty feet beyond the Stargate when the sand moved about them and they were suddenly surrounded. Sam’s instinct was to jump and pull out the zat, but Jolinar was in charge now, and did not even flinch.

“Who are you?” asked one of the tan-clad people.

“Jolinar of Malkshur,” answered Jolinar easily. “I know who you are, Cordesh.”

“You have a new host?” asked Cordesh suspiciously. “What is the password?”

Jolinar said a few words in Goa’uld that Sam did not understand, and all the weapons lowered.

“We were almost ready to think you lost to us,” said Cordesh.

“And so I nearly was,” said Jolinar gravely. “Rosha, I am grieved to say, did not survive.”

One of the Tok’ra stepped forward, a younger man, and Sam was surprised to find that Jolinar’s heart began to race.

”Come, we will grieve for lost ones in safety,” he said, putting out a hand to guide Jolinar. “You are weary and wounded, I see.”

“That is good counsel, Martouf,” said Cordesh. “You may leave your position to bring Jolinar to the Council.”

Martouf nodded to Cordesh, and then the rest of the Tok’ra stepped back. Sam didn’t know what was happening, but as soon as the rings leapt from the sand, she understood. They re-materialized in crystalline tunnels, a much stranger design than that of a Goa’uld ship where rings were usually found.

But there was only a moment for Sam to take in her surroundings, for then Jolinar reached for Martouf and took him into an embrace. He responded in kind, and Sam felt sharp pangs of a grief that was not hers.

“I was not ready to lose you,” murmured Martouf from above, where he held Jolinar gently.

~Who is this?~ asked Sam, but Jolinar didn’t seem to hear.

“I was not ready to lose Rosha,” Jolinar countered, and Sam was surprised at the deepness of emotion. She had pegged Jolinar for one who did not open up so easily.

“Have I not said that loss is but what we must expect as the consequence of the paths we choose to follow,” came deeper tones, and Sam realized that Martouf’s symbiote must be speaking. The dark sadness coming with that voice was unnerving in its difference.

“Lantash,” murmured Jolinar, and as Sam felt a rush of emotion as if in response to another person.

“But we have you safe again, and that must suffice for our joy,” said Lantash then. He reached down to put a hand under Jolinar’s chin, turning her face up to his, where another emotion began to cover up the sadness.

Jolinar’s heartbeat and emotions began to flow in a way that Sam recognized all too well, and suddenly Martouf and Lantash’s behavior was no longer confusing. It was even less so as Lantash planted a tender kiss on Jolinar’s forehead, before stooping in preparation to share a much more passionate one.

~Whoa, whoa, wait!~ called Sam nervously from the back of her mind, hoping to break through Jolinar’s haze of love and—lust? ~Hey!~

Thankfully, her calls were jarring enough, and before anything happened, Jolinar raised a finger to place on Lantash’s lips. “Wait, my love,” she said, just a bit breathless from expectation. “This host—I am not fully blended yet.”

“Of course,” said Lantash, pulling back to a less intimate distance. He dipped his head, and came up with the voice of Martouf. “I am sorry, we were imprudently forward.”

“This is Samantha,” said Jolinar. “She was not aware of our relationship—it is making her very uncomfortable at the moment.” Her tone was apologetic, but inwardly, Sam could see that she found Sam’s discomfort just a bit amusing.

Jolinar dipped her own head, and then granted Sam control. Unsure of what she was to do, Sam first involuntarily blushed, finding herself in the arms of a man who she did not really know, but who considered himself involved with her, or at least her symbiote.

“Ah, um,” she started, “hello?” She felt out of place and unprepared—and her frustration at Jolinar was resurfacing. She couldn’t have at least mentioned that she had a boyfriend? Or was it two?

“Greetings, Samantha,” said Martouf, smiling gently. At least he appeared understanding of her, unlike Jolinar, who was observing with an imaginary half smirk. “I am Martouf, as you are probably aware now, and my symbiote is Lantash. I am sorry that we and Jolinar surprised you—Tok’ra change hosts over time, but we forget that the new host needs time to adjust to their new life. Fear not, we will not do anything without your permission in the future.”

“Thank you,” said Sam gratefully. “But—it’s all right, I’m not going to be here long.” She gave a weak smile, but Martouf didn’t respond.

He looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m only a temporary host—I didn’t choose this,” Sam tried to explain.

“But what is this? You have not chosen to be Tok’ra, yet you are?”

“It—well, it was an emergency, and Jolinar was in need, but I wasn’t awake for her to ask...” Sam trailed off uncomfortably.

~Jolinar, help please?~ she begged.

Jolinar seemed to take pity, and took control again. “It is true, my love,” she said.

“I do not understand this,” said Martouf, brow deeply furrowed. “You took this Samantha without her permission?”

“As she said, she could not have granted it,” said Jolinar. “My own host was moments from death, and she was unconscious and nearing death herself—I made a call of judgment to save us both.”

“This is not what I would have expected,” said Martouf frowning. “And Samantha, she agreed when she awoke?”

“No,” said Jolinar slowly, a little guiltily. Inside, Sam was glad to feel her squirm a little; it was one comfort in the overwhelming situation.

Martouf frowned, then nodded to let Lantash take over. “Jolinar, you broke our highest law,” he said sternly.

“My love, you would have let two lives die on a matter of principle?” asked Jolinar.

“Yes,” said Lantash solidly. “Martouf is ready to grant that the situation can only be understood by one who experiences it, but I hold that law above my own life.”

“I understand, and that is why it is temporary,” said Jolinar. “I swear, I would that I never had to make such a choice again.”

Lantash sighed. “If Samantha forgives you, so shall I, my love. But the Council will not see it so, I think.”

“Then let Samantha make the final call,” said Jolinar firmly. “I am in her debt looking at it from any way.” Then, unexpectedly, Jolinar’s knees buckled, and only Martouf and Lantash’s embrace kept her from stumbling.

“Apologies, my love,” said Lantash, suddenly becoming gentle. “You are very weak still—let me get you to medical help.”

Jolinar sighed, but let him support her as they began to go down the tunnel. She gave control back to Sam, but Sam didn’t know what to say. For some time, Lantash’s face was dark, strong emotion plainly beneath but not surfacing. Then he shook his head slightly, as if putting on another mask, one that pushed grief aside for the time being.

“May I speak to Samantha?” asked Lantash after a moment.

“I’m here,” said Sam. “And—no one I know calls me Samantha.” She flushed a little at the bluntness of the last bit. “I’m usually called Carter.”

“Carter,” said Lantash, musing. “Is that a title, or a rank?”

“Well, neither,” said Sam, glad that he was keeping the conversation going. “It’s my last name—family name?” she added, after Lantash still looked puzzled.

“Your planet gives two names to its children, then,” said Lantash. “Martouf is fascinated, but I do not understand.”

“Well, the last name is for business and for strangers,” said Sam, a bit uncomfortably. “And normally family and close friends would call me Samantha, but I prefer Sam.”

“Three names?” asked Lantash, eyebrows raised.

“No, Sam is just short for Samantha,” said Sam. At his look, she gave a tiny smile. “Yeah, I guess it is weird. Jolinar reacted the same way when I wanted to call her Jol.”

“Jol?” burst out Lantash, greatly surprised, but not disapproving.

“Sorry,” said Sam, flushing even more.

“There is no need,” said Lantash. “It is just that you are strange, Samantha, and unfamiliar. Carter.”

“Yeah, well, all this is weird to me too,” confessed Sam.

“I assume you are glad not to have to face it for a lifetime,” said Lantash pointedly, looking her in the face. Sam didn’t say anything, but the look on her face made Lantash follow up his statement. “You know, of course, that Jolinar’s promises will be granted by the Council—especially given the situation of your blending.”

“I’m—glad to know that,” said Sam. Was she surprised or not at such a statement?

They fell silent, and though Sam could not distinguish between the corridors, eventually they turned into a large room. An olive-skinned man and a golden-haired woman, both in the tan uniforms of the Tok’ra, were arguing over a table that looked like it could have been at home in Sam’s lab.

“Lantash,” commented the woman, catching sight of him first. “What is this?”

“Larys, Anise, this is Jolinar returned to us,” he answered. “She has come greatly weakened from her mission.”

“Rosha was lost?” asked Larys, coming forward to help Sam to sit on the bench, his hands very gentle on her back and shoulder.

Lantash gave a short nod, his eyes pained.

“She will be mourned,” said Anise, bowing her head.

“May I ask your name?” asked Larys, stooping to look Sam in the face.

“Carter,” said Sam. “Sam Carter—but I go by Carter usually.”

Larys put his hands on either side of her face, looking intently at her head and in her eyes. “Jolinar appears to have done well, I see no grave injuries,” he said. “But you need much care—Anise, I am afraid that I will have to continue our conversation later.”

“Of course,” said Anise, nodding and departing.

Larys helped Sam out of the BDU jacket to examine her. He was very careful, letting his fingers run over every area that appeared damaged, but not pressing hard enough to cause agony. Still, Sam’s muscles clenched as he ran over the various burns, and especially over the newer gunshot wounds. After a moment, he nodded to himself.

“Here, you should lie down,” said Larys, indicating a soft pillow on the bench that Sam sat on.

Sam lay back gently, breathing out with relief to be at ease. Lantash sat by her feet, resting a hand on her leg. It was a bit uncomfortable, but Sam didn’t want to offend him by pointing this out.

Larys came back with three things in his hand. “Here, drink this, it will give you and Jolinar strength,” he said, handing her a small vial. She sat up a little to drink it, then lay back down. “And this, just for surety,” commented Larys as he gave her an injection. Then he held up the final object, which Sam recognized as the healing device that Kendra had once used. “I won’t be able to heal you completely, of course,” he said. “You must tell Jolinar that she should take rest for a couple days at least, however much she does not wish to.”

“Yeah, I don’t think she’ll argue,” said Sam, trying to relax as he held the device over her chest. It began to glow, and then she felt the energy flow through her. It was like Jolinar’s inward healing, only more distinct and faster. She breathed out, feeling the pain slowly dissipate, and closed her eyes.

*I had forgotten how good this feels compared to what I have had to do,* said Jolinar, suddenly breaking her silence.

~Why, how long since your last mission ended?~ asked Sam curiously.

*Nine and a half months,* said Jolinar with an inward sigh.

~What?~ exclaimed Sam. ~You haven’t seen your friends, your boyfriend, in almost a year?~

*The mission was important,* said Jolinar, but she didn’t try to hide that it had been hard on her. *And Lantash and Martouf are my mate.*

~Oh,~ said Sam, a little surprised. ~So you’re married, and you’re gone for that long?~

*We do not live for our own pleasure,* said Jolinar. Then she added: *But yes, I have been impatient and anxious to return to them.*

~Sorry I messed that up,~ said Sam.

*The fault did not rest on your shoulders,* said Jolinar.

Sam had been thinking much the same thing, but she appreciated that Jolinar was the one to say it. ~He’s nice; I’m sure you’re very happy,~ she said, to mollify the mood a bit.

Jolinar said nothing, but the sudden flash of images that poured into Sam’s mind were both so primal and—well, intimate—that she would have blushed furiously.

~Okay, okay, I don’t need to know all that,~ she said hurriedly, trying not to look, which was difficult when the memories were being shared directly.

Jolinar pulled back a little.

~I’m very glad you haven’t blended fully if that’s what you think about,~ commented Sam earnestly.

Jolinar chuckled. The healing device continued to spread comfort throughout their body, prompting warmer feelings of relief and gratitude.

~Hey,~  wondered Sam, ~before, you were desperate to get back here. Did you miss it so much?~

*No,* said Jolinar. *Or rather, that did not prompt my urgency. I have tidings that must be heard, and will be, when I report to the Council. But my time at your SGC let me think on everything, and it is not as life or death as I originally thought.*

~Why does it have to be secret?~ asked Sam. ~I mean, it’s not like—~

*Samantha, it is of grave importance that this news come out at the Council first. Let it rest.*

“Well,” spoke Larys finally, “I have done all I can.” Sam opened her eyes, and Larys helped her to sit up. “I do not know what Jolinar has told you, but our healing devices can only function if we know what we are healing. I have healed your external injuries, and the tissue wounds that were from some weapon that I am unfamiliar with—but we will have to do a scan to look for internal injuries.”

Jolinar took control for a moment. “They are but few, Larys, there will be no need for extra interference.”

“Ah, my independent Jolinar,” said Larys, smiling. “Considering your state, I will let you have your way here, as reward for returning safely to us.”

“I will report to the Council, then I will rest as much as you wish,” said Jolinar, standing up.

Lantash rose as well, ready to accompany her.

“Lantash, my love,” said Jolinar. “I wish to let Samantha become accustomed to us gradually, which may be difficult if you follow me around like a lost puppy.” Her lighter tone surprised Sam.

Lantash nodded, but a gleam in his eye belied his humble acquiescence. “Of course. I shall see you at the Council.”

~You didn’t need to do that, I didn’t mind him that much,~ said Sam as Jolinar led her out the corridor.

*My love is caring and protective, but I must rebuke him so that he does not become clingy,* explained Jolinar, but fondly.

~What about Martouf? Is he the same?~ asked Sam curiously.

*No, not exactly,* said Jolinar as if with a frown. *They are as one to me, but yes, it is not always the same. Martouf is more—sensitive to the wishes of others. He was also once unblended, so he understands your concept of privacy. Lantash is more stubborn, and does not willingly back off from what he desires.*

~Ah,~ said Sam, feeling enlightened and even more confused.

Jolinar sighed. Then she added, *I need to bathe.*

Sam was surprised at this, and even more so at her own intrigue. Well, things were going well so far, and Jolinar was telling the truth after all. Strangely, that should have surprised Sam from the first moment they asked about the host, but it had not. She hadn’t even noticed—how long had she believed it anyway? Was she growing soft? Who knew what moment finalized her opinion, an opinion that had gone through ups and downs, but steadily rising in trust of the symbiote since she had allowed Sam to speak in the infirmary.

Oh, what did it matter, what or when or how her mind had changed? Jolinar was right—they urgently needed a bath.

ooooooo

“Sir?”

Hammond looked up from his desk to where Jack O’Neill stood fidgeting. “Yes, Colonel, I called you. Come in and take a seat.”

“I’d rather stand, sir,” said Jack, his mouth twisting a little.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” said Hammond. Resting his elbows on his desk, he leaned forward. “I know it’s only been a day, but I’ve sent referrals for prospective new team members to your office.”

“I have an office?” Jack stalled.

Hammond gave him a look, and Jack sighed. “Before you see them, we need to discuss exactly what you’re choosing.”

“A replacement for Carter—I know, it’s going to be a hell of a choice,” said Jack.

“No, Jack, not a replacement,” said Hammond.

Jack looked up. “Oh? We calling it something different now?”

“I’ve reported to my superiors on what happened yesterday,” said Hammond. “And the things they’ve been saying have given me serious thought. You know why Carter joined you on the first mission, right?”

“She deserved it, after creating the computer dialing system,” said Jack.

“No, Jack.” Hammond sighed. “Jack, Carter was a dream come true for a man in my position. She knew the Stargate, knew a hell of a lot more, and was a fine military officer as well. I know it was just supposed to be recon, but if anything went wrong, I wanted you to have someone with a mind that could work with whatever you might have.”

”It was a good choice, sir,” said Jack, flicking darkly at a few pencil shavings on Hammond’s desk.

“So I thought,” said Hammond. “But now I’m being criticized for letting such a valuable resource waste her time in field work instead of research and development.”

“We wouldn’t have survived this long without Carter,” Jack protested.

“I know that,” said Hammond. “But that’s not my point. I didn’t call you here to explain the political issues I’m having to deal with, I’m here to remind you that you’re not going to find another Carter. She was a scientist and a soldier, and they don’t come more than once in a million. You’re going to have to think about that when you review the files.”

“I don’t think that’s going to help,” said Jack.

“I’d advise you to choose a scientist, given your past record,” said Hammond. “But the choice will be yours of course—and I’m not pretending it’s going to be easy.”

“With all due respect, sir, it’s impossible,” said Jack. “I need a soldier.”

“You have Teal’c, Jack,” said Hammond. “SG-1 is not a military team, 50 is a perfectly adequate percentage.”

“No, it’s not,” pushed Jack. “Teal’c isn’t US military; he doesn’t fight with our tactics, and I can’t really give him commands. And Daniel’s hopeless. I need someone I can count on in a fight to do what I say.”

“Even more you need someone who can save you from the alien devices that you and Dr. Jackson have a habit of interfering with,” said Hammond with a pointed look.

Jack threw up his hands. “Right! Because science is going to do us so much good when we can’t get away from the Jaffa or dangerous natives.”

“Jack,” said Hammond.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” said Jack. “But I don’t see why we can’t have five people on the team,” he added, muttering.

Hammond did not respond, and Jack sighed and rose to leave.

“Good luck, Jack,” said Hammond.

Jack gave him a withering glance, covering up the pain that was carving new wrinkles beneath his eyes.

ooooooo

The bath had been a mixture of pleasure and discomfort, communally located and apparently well-trafficked, but warm and full of soothing mineral salts. Just having clean hair made everything deserving of a second chance. The new clothing afterward had been a little less pleasure and a little more awkwardness, a long well-fitted soft leather robe that wrapped kimono style, but without sleeves or a proper military neckline. Looking in the mirror, Sam saw Jolinar hold herself up tall and proud, and knew she had never looked better—but also never less military.

However, none of these were like the discomfort of a Tok’ra briefing. She was finally hearing what Jolinar had been doing, and it shed no light on anything. Meaningless shifts in the power structure of the minor Goa’ulds under Apophis, tactics that were being trained to his Jaffa, plans for how he was to wipe out other systems lords—it didn’t mean anything to Sam.

It was curious to note the disapproval as Jolinar related what had happened with Sam, and Jolinar even brought Sam forward to testify that there was no foul intent. Then, before they had even seemed to digest that strange story:

“Why did you leave your post after two months?” came a question from Garshaw, who was leading the near-interrogation.

Sam perked up, finally hearing a question that she was curious about

Jolinar paused. “You are aware of Apophis’ bold tactics in taking on other System Lords, and even going up against the newly discovered Tauri, but you have not guessed one portion of his dark mind. While I was in his court, I noticed that his queen Amonet departed without pomp, and did not return.”

Sam was very intrigued.

“I searched harder than I ever had before, and discovered that Apophis has created a harcesis.” The words fell like strikes upon a gong, and after a moment of silence, the Council chamber erupted.

“What is this villainy!” demanded Per’sus.

“Surely you were mistaken,” said Garshaw.

“Even he would not dare such an undertaking,” added Cordesh.

~What is a harcesis?~ asked Sam curiously.

”You think there is another solution?” asked Jolinar. “You would be blind fools to think so. I left immediately to bring you the news, but my sudden absence was noticed. The ashrak trailed me for nearly six months before I joined with Samantha Carter. The harcesis will be born soon.”

“Why were we not informed the moment you stepped through the gate?” demanded Garshaw.

“Apophis has kept this secret close to him; operatives must be sent before anything is learned, and as that takes time, a few hours of peace was worth it,” said Jolinar boldly.

The Council members all looked to each other, assessing what they had just heard without words, and perhaps even with their silent symbiotes and hosts.

Finally, Garshaw looked back. “Thank you, Jolinar, this is most useful. We must decide our course of action soon, for there are complications that need to be discussed. However, since you have given us all you know, you may take your rest until you are fit for another mission.”

“I will require a new host in the future,” said Jolinar.

“A new host?” asked Cordesh, eyes wide.

“I have sworn to this one that she shall be released, as she wishes,” said Jolinar firmly.

”Jolinar of Malkshur, do you realize the gravity of this request?” asked Garshaw.

“I do,” said Jolinar.

~What gravity, exactly?~  asked Sam, confused.

*I shall explain later,* said Jolinar shortly.

“That is a subject for a later date,” said Garshaw. “You may be dismissed.”

“There is one last thing I learned in Apophis’ court,” said Jolinar languidly, but designedly so.

“Oh?” asked Garshaw, who was already turning to consult with the Council.

“Merely that Cordesh has been in contact with Apophis,” said Jolinar.

“What!” cried Cordesh, standing up and slamming his hands on the desk. “This is slander!”

“I heard his name often,” said Jolinar darkly, staring down the Council member she had accused. “And in tones too distinct to be mistaken.”

“Cordesh?” asked Garshaw, still stunned.

“It was implied that he had been communicating by means of a device,” added Jolinar. “At least restrain him until his quarters are searched, and I guarantee, you will find it.”

“Such a thing has never happened among the Tok’ra,” said Garshaw darkly. “Cordesh, have you no defense?”

Cordesh looked grave, but did not deny anything.

Jolinar smirked, then turned to leave.

~Whoa, what did you just do?~ asked Sam, overwhelmed by what had just happened.

*I stirred things around,* said Jolinar. *There will be no peace for some time among the Tok’ra.*

~You do this often, don’t you?~ asked Sam pointedly.

*Someone needs to take on the reckless missions, and be prepared to address the consequences*  said Jolinar. *But come, we should retire so that I can answer those questions you so rudely interrupted me with.*

~You never told me about the telepathy etiquette,~ said Sam defensively.

*You have much to learn,* said Jolinar with a long sigh.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 - Adaptation

Sam was undergoing a whirlwind of thoughts, so speedily spinning that they were clearly in the open of the shared part of their mind, and it was driving Jolinar to distraction. But the symbiote refused to respond until they were in her quarters.

~So we know about Sha’re, but even though it’s not much, I can’t convey it to Daniel at all. Do you know how awful that is? And then, after all you told me about Tok’ra loyalty, you reveal a traitor. I was beginning to trust you, all of you, and now I don’t think I should. Okay, so maybe you and Martouf—Lantash—how do you refer to a Tok’ra anyway—are okay on my list. For now. But what’s the deal about new hosts? You were telling the truth, right? The whole truth? Or well, I don’t think you’ve done that yet, but you seemed open enough. Or is Garshaw just upset about the fact that you’re going to be changing hosts again...is that a kind of taboo? How many hosts have you had?~

*Stop it!* snapped Jolinar finally, as loud as an imaginary voice could get.

~I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking at you,~ said Sam.

*Then there is no need for excessive volume,* hissed Jolinar, forgetting that she wasn’t supposed to be speaking. Then she continued walking at a faster pace down corridors that all looked the same to Sam.

It was at least a little dismissive, and Sam’s curiosity dissipated. She felt little bubbles of anger start to gather in the pool of her emotions that had been stirred violently by Jolinar’s debriefing. Gathering, rising, she was near a bout of frustration at her arrogant symbiote that was long in coming. Telling herself that it wasn’t going to help, though, she settled back for some passive resistance.

She was evilly glad when her mental rendition of It’s A Small World was equally tooth-grinding to alien symbiotes as to her brother when they were young.

Finally, Jolinar turned on her heel into a small chamber. A mirror, a bed, and a chest at the foot, were all that adorned it.

~I should have known,~ commented Sam.

Brushing back Sam’s short hair, which seemed to irritate her, Jolinar breathed out and lay down on the bed. It was surprisingly soft and supportive to Sam’s back, weary from standing so long in the Council chamber, and her feet as well appreciated the rest from walking on stone floors.

As all their muscles relaxed, Jolinar laid her hands gently on her own stomach as she lay with her eyes closed. *Are you prepared to be civil in your interrogation?*

~Yes,~ said Sam, suitably calmed as a result of her cerebral terrorism.

*Well, shall we start with the accusations of lying and manipulation?* asked Jolinar.

~So the Tok’ra aren’t loyal for life, as you told me,~ started Sam.

*No. It was a generalization, I will allow, but one based in fact.*

~Like what?~ asked Sam, willing for the moment to give the benefit of a doubt.

*This cause is not one to be entered by those unsure of what they believe,* said Jolinar. *There is danger and hardship, and once the choice is made, it is as if there is no going back. And no, before you say anything, I believe that Cordesh was loyal before. I know not what torment or threats turned him, but he was not always so. It is rare—I know of only one other case, hundreds of years ago.*

~And you, how do I know you’re not hiding your true nature from me?~ asked Sam.

Jolinar snorted. *And they consider you highly intelligent on your planet! Can you think of even the remotest possible plan that I might have that would lead me to seek actively to get rid of you?*

~No,~ said Sam after a moment. She added, ~I didn’t know you were so adamant about the issue as I was—it seemed like you might have wanted me to change my mind.~

*It would certainly be in my best interests, physically, to stay in you,* said Jolinar. *But mentally? Believe me, your battering of my nerves and temper is hardly what I would wish for on a permanent basis.*

Sam couldn’t help but comment. ~I have made your life living hell, haven’t I? I guess I’m a little sorry about that. But about that, why is it such a big deal that you get a new host?~

*They are rare,* admitted Jolinar.

~Oh?~ asked Sam suspiciously.

*Humans are so individualistic,* said Jolinar. *Even those whose identities and wills have been suppressed for a lifetime by the Goa’uld are terrified of the prospect of sharing mind and body. Finding those who see past instinctual revulsion is a prospect of much trial and error. And because our lives depend on secrecy, trial and error is more difficult than it might be. Some seek us out, but usually we must search.*

~So what does that mean for me?~ asked Sam uneasily.

*There will be a reason for us to make many trials,* said Jolinar simply and yet a bit cryptically. *And don’t say that I didn’t tell you the whole truth, because even were there a host ready to take your place at this minute, I could not do so without dying in the process.*

~I know, I’m all right with being patient for a while,~ said Sam. ~Just as long as I know it’s a “when” and not an “if” situation.~

*I keep my word,* repeated Jolinar.

~What’s a harcesis?~ asked Sam, picking a question that didn’t seem as emotionally charged.

*It is the offspring of two Goa’uld, a human child who will carry the genetic memory of both predecessors,* said Jolinar.

~Oh,~ said Sam, her voice full of sudden revulsion. ~You mean Apophis is forcing Sha’re to bear his child?~ She was filled with worry both for Sha’re and for Daniel's guilt, if he ever found out.

*I am sorry for you—I did not realize your relation to the host,* said Jolinar.

~But why is it such a problem for the Tok’ra?~ asked Sam, burying her disgust.

*It is not,* said Jolinar. *But it is forbidden among the Goa’uld. The Tok’ra merely wish to spare the child from being the object of so much hatred, and to give him a life where his knowledge will serve only good.*

~Poor thing,~ said Sam. ~He won’t even know his mother, no matter what happens.~

*She has not been a host for long, she will give him all that she can, I am sure,* said Jolinar, surprisingly soothing.

~What do you mean? The child could hear her thoughts?~

*No, the symbiote must remain dormant during the pregnancy,* said Jolinar. *Your Sha’re will have those months free of Amonet.*

~I hope you find her,~ thought Sam.

There was a few moments of silence.

*Have I satisfied your questioning mind?* asked Jolinar.

~Why do you sound like you dread it so much?~ said Sam, a bit of accusation in her tone, but mostly a vague content.

*I have not been used to hosts who talk so much,* admitted Jolinar. *I am now reminded why I prefer to be on a mission, away from—certain others here.*

~Well, maybe I’ll be good for you~ said Sam. ~You’d think that after a thousand years or so you’d have ironed out all those problems.~

If Jolinar had not been resting, she would have rolled her eyes. *You are a scientist, and yet you seem to understand little of how the mind works. It is so much easier to avoid that which annoys than to work to tolerate it.*

~How is it that you sound so human?~ asked Sam. ~Are your personalities that susceptible to our minds once joined? Is it more than physical for you?~

*Wait,* said Jolinar. *Any questions you have about our nature must wait, for I cannot answer them. Tomorrow I will let others be at your mercy for how many questions you will ask, others whose fields of study will be of more use.*

Sam sighed. ~You know, I might have liked you if you hadn’t taken over my head. Well, found you interesting, anyway.~

*I can only imagine,* said Jolinar dryly. *Your panicked face as you saw the glowing eyes, and then the terror as you ran for a weapon. Would you have heard even one word if you had another choice?*

~Daniel would have listened,~ said Sam, the only pseudo-apology she could offer. ~Daniel always listens. Jack hates that.~

*You want his approval, or else you would agree with this Daniel,* commented Jolinar.

~What, you don’t seek the approval of your authorities?~ defended Sam.

*I have none,* said Jolinar simply. *The Council has no power over me unless I let them.*

~Well, lucky you,~ said Sam. ~But no, I’m not sorry I have to be military minded. It’s just—sometimes Daniel’s right and the military is wrong.~

*No one should make their decisions based on what group they affiliate with,* said Jolinar. *The individual mind has ethics that are more consistent than any created version, if we are bold enough to break free and follow them.*

~Yeah, you really like that whole independence spiel,~ said Sam.

When Jolinar didn’t answer, Sam got the feeling, as usual, that the symbiote wasn’t being open. But she was too tired to continue. It seemed like days ago that she had stepped through the gate onto this world, and weeks ago since she had slept in pain on another planet. She forced herself not to think of how long since she had left Earth—there was no point in unburying those feelings, not until there was something she could do about them.

*I am weary as well,* said Jolinar, sitting up on the bed. *Shall we retire?*

~Yes, please,~ said Sam. As Jolinar stood up and walked to her dresser, Sam suddenly had a moment of worry. ~Wait, is this yours and Martouf’s room?~

*Why should it be?* asked Jolinar. *We are mated, not joined at the hip.*

~Oh, that’s good,~ said Sam with relief. ~It’s just, on Earth, couples share beds.~

*Oh, that is not unknown to the Tok’ra,* said Jolinar slyly. *But not always.*

Sam was eternally grateful that she kept the comment cryptic—given Jolinar’s personality, she had no desire for an open confession of the love life of a Tok’ra. That would be a step over the line into too disturbing. She had only been here for a day, after all, and it was all new.

Jolinar brushed her fingers through Sam’s hair, untangling what little tangles there were, and then washing her face in cold water. Then, indulging a small yawn, she began to strip.

~Um, Jolinar, the door,~ commented Sam urgently.

*What door?* asked Jolinar, not stopping.

Sam followed her gaze, and noticed that there was, in fact, no door. ~Whoa, whoa, you’re not undressing me in public!~

*Certainly not,* said Jolinar. *We are quite alone.*

~But anyone could walk by,~ explained Sam.

*The Tok’ra are not nosy, it is just that there are no secrets,* said Jolinar. *Relax, no one will see us.*

~If they do, nothing will save your life,~ warned Sam fiercely.

Jolinar grinned. Letting the leather robe drape over the back of the chair, she crawled into bed.

~Must you sleep nude?~ asked Sam, but tired enough not to care all too much.

*Is there another way?* asked Jolinar, confused.

~Never mind,~ said Sam, feeling drowsy.

Jolinar curled up under the covers, letting her healed limbs finally relax into a more natural position than how they had slept for the past nights. Sam had felt uncomfortable and confused for much of the day, but feeling a cool soft pillow under her head again seemed to bring everything together. As Jolinar slowed her breathing and heartbeat and adjusted her hormone levels, Sam finally decided that if she kept her eyes closed, she could almost imagine herself back at home. Some things, like beds and sleep, didn’t change no matter where you went or with whom, and that was of great comfort.

ooooooo

When Sam woke, she was surprised that her eyes automatically opened. Jolinar was still asleep, and apparently at some point in the night had loosened her control.

~Strange,~ thought Sam as quietly as she could. ~Must be a Tok’ra thing; Goa’uld would be at a disadvantage if they couldn’t keep control.~

Sitting up slowly and yawning, Sam relished the silence in her head. Not only the silence, but the lack of conscious presence. It was like a weight in the back of her mind, but she could almost ignore it. Ignore it, at least, until she noticed the crystal walls and the sharp crisp scent.

Then, suddenly, she remembered that there was no door and she had no clothes. Blushing furiously, she wrapped the blanket around her and walked over to Jolinar’s makeshift closet. Frowning, she flipped through the clothes rather hopelessly. Leather, leather, silk, leather, silk, some strange fabrics she couldn’t identify, silk, silk, leather. Sam hadn’t noticed much fancy dress among the Tok’ra—mostly minimalist clothing, and even uniforms among many of them. But Jolinar didn’t have anything simple enough, nothing the equivalent of BDUs.

Pressing her lips together, Sam finally picked a dark-colored dress that might have been made of sturdy linen, passing over the leather pantsuit just barely. The scoop neck was flattering, and the belted waist was also handy—Sam didn’t know what size Rosha had been, and she didn’t want to think about that issue at all. Grabbing some silky underthings, Sam retreated to the most private corner to quickly put them on.

*Hmm,* came a drowsy grumble from her mind.

~Needed sleep more than you thought, eh?~ commented Sam.

*I’m surprised your thoughts didn’t wake me,* said Jolinar.

~Maybe I’m getting better at hiding them,~ said Sam.

*Or I sleep deeply,* answered Jolinar.

~Yeah, because that’s just what’s needed for a stealth operative,~ commented Sam incredulously.

*What are you clothing me in?* asked Jolinar suddenly, changing the subject abruptly.

~What, so objectionable to you?~ asked Sam. ~It was in your closet.~

*This is hardly an outfit for daily life,* said Jolinar.

~Oh really? I was thinking the same thing, looking at your wardrobe. You don’t have anything simple!~

*Perhaps by your terms,* said Jolinar. *Will you let me finish, if you are so set on this?*

~Fine,~ conceded Sam.

Jolinar quickly walked over to her mirror, readjusting minor details about how Sam had put on the dress, and opening a drawer beneath the mirror. She took out a brush to remove the tangles from Sam’s hair, and then a small bottle. Pouring some sweet smelling gel into her hands, she then rubbed it through Sam’s hair until it lay flat against her head.

~Well, that’s one way to do it,~ said Sam. She wasn’t fond of the almost anti-feminine allure the fiercely gelled hair gave off, but with the dress as counter-balance, it wasn’t that bad.

“Now, breakfast,” said Jolinar.

~Why do you always want to be in control?~ asked Sam.

“Do you have anything to convey to the people on this planet?” asked Jolinar. “They will assume that I am in control, because they only know me, so you will constantly be handing over control when they wish to speak to me.”

~This is just weird,~ said Sam. ~How do you communicate with two people in one body on a regular basis without things being confused?~

Jolinar was walking down the halls, so she thought her answers to Sam. *There is usually a dominant consciousness, one who prefers to handle the communication, and another who does more listening.*

~So, Martouf likes to talk a lot?~ asked Sam curiously.

*Yes, and no,* explained Jolinar. *It is true that he communicates more often with words, but his dominant status is more due to the fact that he is Lantash’s—I think you would say, editor. Lantash does not think of how his opinions will sound before he lets them loose; Martouf has seen need to stay in control to translate his meaning into more palatable terms.*

~Ah,~ said Sam, smiling a little at the quirkiness of it all.

The Tok’ra mess hall was different than the one at the SGC, not surprisingly. Tables for two and three were scattered around, some pushed together for larger groups, but most clearly separate. The food was displayed on a counter cut into the crystal wall, apparently leading into the Tok’ra equivalent of the kitchen. What it lacked in variety for shape, it made up for in color. Sam didn’t recognize anything as Jolinar loaded up a platter, but it smelled tolerable enough, if exotic.

~What if I don’t like it, how does that work?~ asked Sam.

*You will have more limited taste abilities while I am in control,* said Jolinar. *But I assure you, nothing here has enough taste to displease you.*

Sam would have grinned if she could. ~Yeah, I guess mass-produced food is universally lacking.~

Jolinar found a table well removed from the others, but whether to spare Sam from discomfort or to serve her own nearly anti-social preferences, it was not evident. She began to eat in silence, and Sam had to agree—the food had taste, but it was nothing too different from the basic tastes of home.

“May I?”

Jolinar looked up, and Martouf stood with his own platter.

“Of course,” said Jolinar, smiling at him.

“How is Carter today,” he asked.

~Glad he remembered,~ said Sam, still a bit put off by his obvious adoration of Jolinar.

“Samantha is generally content, though still strongly wishing for her return to her people,” said Jolinar.

Sam noticed that Jolinar’s left hand, and Martouf’s right, were slowly and unconsciously drifting across the space between them to touch in the middle of the table, as their other hands helped them eat.

“I am sorry that circumstances make her so opposed to this,” said Martouf. “She would do you good.”

Jolinar hmphed.

“You protest, but she is strong enough to counter you, I can tell,” said Martouf with a smile. “You need that, you know.”

“I do not need an endlessly contrary host,” protested Jolinar.

“Which she is not,” said Martouf simply.

~He’s right,~ said Sam. ~You’re just testy.~

Jolinar outwardly frowned a little, and Martouf raised an eyebrow. “I believe my point was just proved,” he said.

“Let us drop this subject,” said Jolinar. “Have you been busy for the Council while I was gone, or did you actually leave the base?”

“Not all of us are suited to off-world actions,” said Martouf.

The barely-visible smiles on both faces gave the impression that this was a matter of long discussion and teasing, and only brought up now out of habit. Martouf continued to talk, but the names and terms were unfamiliar to Sam, and she instead watched how the two interacted—or was it three? How long had they been together? There was both the feeling of a long and comfortable relationship, but mixed with the idealism of a honeymoon stage. Whatever it was, Sam would have thought it cute and nice had she not had to be a part of it.

It was just for breakfast, though—Jolinar had promised her more answers today, and Sam was willing to wait a little while for them.

ooooooo

“General?”

Hammond looked up from his desk, where Daniel’s head was poked around the corner. “Yes, Dr. Jackson?”

He popped in the room, hands stuck in his pockets, brow furrowed. “Sir, I need to ask—please, let SG-1 be a five man team!”

Hammond looked surprised, especially at the near-begging tone. “What?”

“Jack is going to kill those prospective members if you don’t give him more leeway,” said Daniel. “Really, no one more intimidating or with higher standards could exist!”

“Dr. Jackson, a four man team is ideal, and standard for the teams we have now,” said Hammond.

“Yes, but SG-1 is a flag team, don’t you want it to be the best?” argued Daniel. “Especially when the leader seems determined that it be the best or nothing at all,” he added, muttering.

Hammond paused, looking at Daniel’s earnest face. “I’ll consider it,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” said Daniel, his face lightening a little. “I really don’t know if I can protect them any longer, if they don’t have just the right qualities.”

“Good luck,” called Hammond as Daniel left.

“Yeah, we need all of it,” called Daniel back.

This was difficult for Hammond. Jack was handling this all so badly, and Daniel, for all the good face he tried to portray, was hardly doing better. And it wasn’t anyone else’s fault—so why not make it easier on everybody? He’d contact his superiors with the suggestion, and give it all his backing.

ooooooo

Eventually the conversation faded, and the food disappeared. Martouf squeezed Jolinar’s hand one last time before leaving for his duties, and Jolinar rose to clear her tray.

~Now what?~ asked Sam.

*Now, you can ask your pesky questions of Selmak and Saroosh,* said Jolinar.

~Who are they?~ asked Sam.

*The oldest and wisest of the Tok’ra,* said Jolinar. *So if they are overwhelmed by your curiosity, you will have only yourself to blame.*

~Right,~ said Sam dryly. ~For someone who never stops talking, you are remarkably intolerant of my speech.~

*I do not talk nonstop!* protested Jolinar strongly.

Sam grinned inwardly. ~Gotcha.~

*Your humor is very strange,* said Jolinar moodily.

~Yeah, well, so is your culture,~ shot back Sam, her tone light but her meaning strongly serious. ~Come on, you can go hide while I talk if you want.~

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 - Collation

Jolinar led Sam down yet another corridor.

~What’s up with your architecture?~ asked Sam. ~Do you try to make it so strangers get lost?~

*Wait, please, just a couple minutes, before you start off on your questions,* Jolinar nearly begged.

Finally, they reached an open chamber that was significant for Jolinar, though it looked identical to Sam. Knocking on the side of the wall, Jolinar did not enter.

Inside was an old woman, white haired and wrinkled, with frail looking face and limbs. “Come in, dear one,” came her voice, and it was normal human voice.

“Saroosh,” said Jolinar, nodding. “You do not look so well today.”

Saroosh walked forward with trembling steps, but with an attitude that belied her weakness. “I heard the same said of you just yesterday, child,” she said, with eyebrow raised.

Jolinar stiffened a little. “I am no child, Saroosh.”

“So you keep telling me,” said Saroosh amusedly, patting a seat for Jolinar while she took one of her own. “But you lose your composure over so small a matter.”

~I like her,~ Sam told Jolinar.

*This was a bad idea,* thought back Jolinar. Out loud, she said, taking the seat: “I have come to speak to Selmak, in fact, though you may also serve some purpose.”

“What, no friendly visit?” asked Saroosh.

“No,” said Jolinar, but regretfully. “You have heard of the conditions of my return?”

“That you took a host by necessity, yes,” said Saroosh, with just a hint of disapproval.

“She wishes to speak to you—she is more curious about the Tok’ra than I can handle,” said Jolinar.

“Oh, by all means,” said Saroosh, smiling. “I would be most pleased, and so would Selmak.”

Jolinar bowed her head and gave Sam control. Glad to have the power back, Sam looked up and smiled at Saroosh. “Hi,” she said, not nearly uncomfortable after witnessing how Saroosh interacted. “My name is Samantha Carter.”

“It is a pleasure,” said Saroosh, offering her hand, small and wrinkled as it was. “I am Saroosh, host to Selmak. Has Jolinar told you that we are the oldest and wisest among the Tok’ra?”

“Uh, yes, she did,” said Sam, smiling unsurely and gently taking the proffered hand.

Saroosh smiled wider. “Oh yes, I thought she might have—she is such a fiery one, our Jolinar, and does not hold reverence for anyone, least of all us. So,” she continued, “you have questions?”

“On my home planet, before all this, I was a scientist,” said Sam, explaining. “I—it was my job to ask questions.”

“And you pestered Jolinar with them?” asked Saroosh.

“Well—” Sam started to admit.

“Oh, no need to justify!” said Saroosh. “I am glad that you ruffled her feathers, she deserves it.”

“Well, considering my situation, I didn’t want to make her upset,” said Sam, shrugging.

“Mm, so I heard,” said Saroosh, sobering up. “It is true that you do not see this as a fortuitous accident, then?”

“Oh, no,” Sam blurted out, surprised. “That is,” she added, trying to make it sound less harsh, “it’s not that I hate her or anything—I just didn’t choose it, and I don’t want it.”

“You did hate her, didn’t you?” asked Saroosh, looking at her closely.

“Yes,” said Sam slowly. “She stole my body, threw a wrench in my perfect life, and what have I got for it?”

“Very true, very true,” said Saroosh more lightly. “I do not judge—you have every right to think as you do. It is just, we do not see this often, objections to being a host of a Tok’ra. You are an anomaly.”

“You’re happy with your life?” asked Sam, curiously.

“Should I not be?” asked Saroosh back. “I have had good health, a long life, and a constant friend and companion—not to mention the wisdom and knowledge that I should never have gained on my own.”

“But your family,” continued Sam, “your life before?”

Saroosh sighed. “Yes, they are all dead and gone, and their children, and their children afterwards.”

“You don’t miss it?” asked Sam.

“With this life, my dear, you don’t miss anything,” said Saroosh. “Every day brings another crisis, or if not, another project and plan needing our help. Even when that is done, there is talk and company. We are a family, in more ways than one, and one that has lasted longer than any family I would have known on my home-world.” Saroosh let out her breath in a happy sigh. “But, I should be answering your questions,” she said.

“Well, that was one of them,” said Sam. “But, how does this whole symbiotic thing work, anyway? I mean, physically.”

“Well, there is one who knows more about that than I,” said Saroosh. “Just a second.” She dipped her head, and Sam knew what was coming next.

“Hello again,” she said, as Saroosh’s face changed infinitesimally.

“Greetings, Samantha Carter,” came the deeper voice. “I am Selmak. And as to your question, it is a difficult thing to describe.”

“Try me,” said Sam with a smile.

“Our kind are small, with a bone structure like that of snakes,” began Selmak. “We consist of few organs, so we require a host to fulfill the rest. By entering through the mouth, or the back of the neck, we are able to link directly with the spinal cord and the host’s mind.”

Sam gritted her teeth, willing herself not to flinch as the process was described.

“We secrete a chemical upon entering,” continued Selmak. “You might call it a neurotransmitter, though it serves a more complex purpose. It passes along the neurons to the brain, and it provides the link between the two consciousnesses, transferring memories and thoughts as patterns from one mind to the other. It is impossible to describe in such laymen’s terms, but that is the general idea.”

“Okay, I guess that makes sense,” said Sam. “What about these tendril things that I’ve heard about?”

“Once in the mind, we immediately have some blending, through the chemical,” said Selmak. “But full blending requires much more of the chemical than we can instantly secrete. At our will, and after some time, we grow limb-like structures that branch out and deepen the blending, until all things are shared. It sounds physically invasive,” added Selmak at the sight of Sam’s discomfort, “but all blending is a chemical reaction. If a symbiote were to die within the host without being fully blended, the chemical secreted upon its death would transfer all the final thoughts to the host, though admittedly at random and without order or purpose.”

“Okay,” said Sam, nodding and swallowing a little nervously. “So when Jolinar leaves, there won’t be anything residual?”

“No, that is another matter entirely,” said Selmak. “Symbiotes carry naquadah with them, and it becomes a part of the host permanently. Even when unblended, that naquadah will follow you forever. But it should not affect your life in any way—it serves to detect other symbiotes, and to activate Goa’uld and Tok’ra technology.”

“I can live with that,” said Sam with a little shrug. “Sounds useful, actually.”

“If you were to host Jolinar for many years,” added Selmak, “there would also be the issue of your aging.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sam, interested.

“The presence of a symbiote can slow the aging of cells,” said Selmak, “but only on a temporary basis. Like the sarcophagus, continual treatment is required. Without the symbiote, you would regress dramatically without treatment. But for you, as I said, this is not an issue.”

Sam frowned, thinking. “I’m just wondering, from what you’ve told me—do you remove the Goa’uld from their hosts?”

Selmak sighed and sat up straighter. “It is a difficult question, Samantha Carter.”

“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Sam.

“Firstly, a symbiote can kill its host if it wishes,” said Selmak, “though it is only likely to do so if there is no possible hope of escape. They are not self-sacrificing. The Tok’ra can sometimes subdue the symbiote before this happens, and with surgery, it may be removed with little or no damage to the host. But it is dangerous for many reasons. The symbiote may not come easily, and if it does, the regression may not always be helped. Even then, the psychological damage is not within our power to heal.”

“Yeah, I understand that,” said Sam, but her face was pained.

“Is this of importance to you?” asked Selmak.

“I—” Sam began hesitantly. “I—I knew the host of the Goa’uld Amonet,” she said. “She was the wife of my friend before she was taken. He, well we, have been trying to find a way to get her back.”

“She is the mother of the harcesis?” asked Selmak.

Sam flinched. “She’s being forced to do it, yes,” she said. “Her name is Sha’re.”

Selmak sighed. “I do not know if we will be able to find her, and if so, if the host can be saved. Such circumstances have been rare, and not always successful.”

“But you would try?” asked Sam. “You try not to kill Goa’uld if there’s any chance?”

“Samantha Carter,” said Selmak, leaning over to put a hand on her knee. “If it was in our power to destroy an evil being, then the choice is between saving potentially thousands by the Goa’uld’s death, or risking those lives in an attempt to save one that may not be in reach of salvation. What choice do you think we would make?”

Sam bit her lip, not looking into Selmak’s eyes. “I don’t want to have to make that choice,” she said, but the pain in her voice was great.

“No one does,” said Selmak. “But someone must.”

“I don’t get it,” said Sam, branching out from her discomfort. “You care about lives, you care about freedom—why don’t the Goa’uld? Why are they all so evil?”

“If you bore the memory of all your ancestors, all their despicable deeds and desires, could you resist it without reason to? From the time they are born, the Goa’uld have all odds against them.”

“And the Tok’ra?” asked Sam.

“Our genetic memory comes from our foremother, Egeria. She was once of the Goa’uld—but she chose another path, and granted that memory to her many children.” Selmak spoke now with respect in her voice. “Rarely, the memories do not subdue the free will of the symbiote and they can grow beyond them.”

“Is that what happened to Cordesh, only the opposite way?” asked Sam.

“We shall not know for sure, but it is not a flawed guess,” said Selmak with a dark tone. “Genetics do not hold all the answers.”

Sam fell silent, looking down at her hands, and wondering how much of her behavior could be explained by her father. Too much, she thought with discomfort.

*So do all children think,* said Jolinar quietly.

“Are these all your questions?” asked Selmak, surprised.

“No, not all,” said Sam. “But, you gave me enough thought for now. I need to absorb. Thanks."

“May I speak with our Jolinar, if you are done?” asked Selmak.

“Sure,” said Sam, retreating as much as she could. Jolinar took over, and Sam ducked back to think and brood in silence.

“The whole base is murmuring about your revelations,” said Selmak to Jolinar, sitting up in her chair to address the other symbiote.

“I knew they would,” said Jolinar.

“If the Goa’uld feel free in their power to attempt such a venture, it shows how gravely we have failed,” Selmak continued.

“Yes, well, what was to be expected?” said Jolinar shortly.

”You do not wish to speak of it?” asked Selmak, but without much surprise.

“I’ve done all the talking on the issue that I wish,” said Jolinar. “Now is a time for actions, not words.”

“So you have always told us,” said Selmak, the hint of a dark grin on her mouth. “But it is words and ideas that have saved us, and actions but the results that follow from them.”

“I save my words for when they are needed,” said Jolinar. “I do not repeat myself; until there is reason to speak of Apophis and the harcesis again, I shall not bother in meaningless speculations.”

“As you wish,” said Selmak, settling back into her chair. “I am not surprised.”

“Yes, you pester me even knowing my response,” said Jolinar pointedly.

“Perhaps one day you will learn and I will not need to be so blunt,” said Selmak. She smiled, even as her hands began to tremble.

“Have you eaten this morning?” asked Jolinar.

”Yes, I have,” said Selmak. Then, she added, “And no, that did not distract me from the subject. I am not yet senile, Jolinar.”

Jolinar sighed, and did not even try to look innocent.

“It is Amonet, is it not?” Selmak continued.

“Yes,” said Jolinar simply.

“Is she not symbiote to the friend of your own host, Samantha?”  asked Selmak.

“No, Samantha has only met her once—Sha’re was but mated to a friend of Samantha’s,” corrected Jolinar.

“Such ill fortune for such a coincidence,” said Selmak.

~What exactly does she mean?~ asked Sam out of curiosity.

*When Amonet is silenced for the pregnancy, her host has control,* explained Jolinar, not in the mood to give control up just for Selmak to answer. *She will likely go to a place of meaning to her, so the more we know of the host, the more we can guess where she will go to birth the harcesis.*

~Really?~ asked Sam, suddenly intrigued. ~That’s it? That’s all you need?~

*What is this?* asked Jolinar, frowning.

~You didn’t tell me you needed that kind of information,~ said Sam.

*But you know scarce more than nothing about her, so you implied,* said Jolinar.

Sam was growing even more excited and hopeful. ~Oh Daniel, you will thank us yet, I promise! Jolinar, I know one very important thing about Sha’re—I know her home-world.~

Selmak was watching as Jolinar’s face reflected her emotions. “What is it?” she asked.

“Answers, the answers we needed,” said Jolinar without introduction. She rose in haste.

“Jolinar, what is it?” asked Selmak, too frail to stand up so unexpectedly.

“I underestimated Samantha,” said Jolinar, turning to leave. She called back over her shoulder, “She knows the home-world of Amonet’s host!”

~So what does this mean?~ asked Sam, as they hurried down the hallway towards the Council chamber.

*It means we may have a chance of finding Amonet,* said Jolinar. *And that is of great importance to us all.*

~But what then?~ asked Sam.

*Wait and see—I have not answers for such questions,* said Jolinar.

ooooooo

“Where have you been?” asked Jack, hands on hips as Daniel came back to him.

“Sorry, I was just talking to General Hammond again,” said Daniel.

“Sure you were,” said Jack. “Just admit it, you hate this as much as I do.” He waved a hand in the general vicinity of the various personnel files.

“Yes, Jack, I do,” said Daniel testily. “But only because you’re making it so difficult!”

“Am not,” protested Jack with a frown.

“Right, because of course you’re giving everyone unbiased consideration,” Daniel muttered, sitting down with a thwump and snatching a few files to look at.

“It’s not my fault and you know it,” said Jack. “I have high standards, who wouldn’t?”

“So lower them,” said Daniel.

“It’s not that easy,” muttered Jack. “Don’t try to pretend that you have, either.”

“If this isn’t about the new team members, don’t try to pretend that it is,” said Daniel. “This is about Sam, isn’t it? You don’t want to give up on her.”

“You didn’t either,” shot back Jack. “You were mad as hell with me when I agreed with Hammond!”

“Okay, yes, I was upset,” said Daniel, throwing his hands up. “But I got over it, Jack, I didn’t hold a grudge about it.”

“There’s no grudge!” protested Jack. “I just—” He stopped, trailed off, and turned back in frustration to the paperwork.

“I know,” said Daniel, his irritation dying and turning to attempts at understanding. “If I think too hard on it, I think I might just fall apart, so I don’t.”

“That’s not healthy, you know,” Jack tossed at him flippantly.

“Right,” said Daniel wearily. He put down the file he was holding, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” said Jack.

“Yeah, sure,” said Daniel, accepting the offered excuse. “Why doesn’t Teal’c help?”

“He can’t read these,” said Jack, shaking his head at Daniel’s ignorance. “Hell, I’m not sure I can read all of these terms, and I went to public school.”

“What is he doing, then?” asked Daniel. “Doesn’t he feel welcome to join us?”

“You know, Daniel, I haven’t really spent time psychoanalyzing the guy,” said Jack. “He probably just wants to be alone. I know I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Fine, I’ll shut up,” said Daniel, picking up the file again.

“I didn’t mean that,” said Jack from behind his file.

“Yes, you did,” answered Daniel without looking at him.

“No, not really,” said Jack again.

“Yes, you did,” pushed Daniel.

“Okay, yes I did,” said Jack. “And now I really mean it.”

There was a moment of silence, and both men seemed to sigh a little. It felt good to argue, felt normal, even when nothing else did.

“How about this McKay guy,” offered Daniel after a moment. “Have you seen his credentials?”

“The only part I cared about was that he’d never been on any kind of team before,” said Jack.

“Neither had I,” reminded Daniel.

“Archaeologists are more active than physi-whatever he is,” said Jack.

“He’d learn,” said Daniel. “You can’t help it, being on the team.”

“No offense, Daniel, but I don’t want to have to go through another one of you,” said Jack, throwing a glance his way.

Daniel sighed, and then the phone rang, and they both jumped.

“I got it,” said Daniel.

“Why you?” asked Jack.

“Well, we’re in my lab, since you don’t seem to know where your office is,” said Daniel, grabbing the phone.

“Dr. Jackson?”

“Yes, sir?” answered Daniel.

“You can tell Colonel O’Neill that a five-man team has been approved by the President. He can pick his members, and we’ll let them know so they’ll be ready by the time you go back on duty.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Daniel earnestly, gratefully. “This is—this is very good.”

“They all understood what you must be going through—and as the flagship team, they agreed that more variety is better.”

Hammond hung up the phone, and Daniel put his back on the hook.

“Well, what was that?” asked Jack curiously.

“General Hammond,” said Daniel. “He says I should tell you that the guys at the Pentagon have approved a five-man team for SG-1.”

“What?” asked Jack in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, I kind of went in and vouched for it this morning,” said Daniel. “You know what that means, right?”

“What?” asked Jack suspiciously.

“That we get to compromise,” said Daniel simply. “You choose the military guy, I choose the science guy.”

“Or girl,” corrected Jack, but quickly realizing that that was the wrong thing to say.

“Yeah,” said Daniel sadly. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - Preparation

~I don’t get this,~ grumbled Sam. ~You have what you need, why all this talk of logistics and resources?~

*At last we agree on something,* said Jolinar dryly. *Bureaucracy!*

~This is good for everyone, though,~ said Sam, hope finally mingling with the contentment she forced upon herself. ~You get Amonet, keep the harcesis from Apophis. And you can give me Sha’re so that she can go back to Daniel, and maybe they will listen to her when she dials Earth.~

*You may have a chance to go home,* Jolinar summed up. *Yes, yes, it’s all very exciting to you, but if you are truly as intelligent as you say, you will realize all the variables.*

~She may not have gone to Abydos, Amonet may kill to avoid capture, she may not be removed safely, the Abydonians may not let Sha’re contact Earth even after Amonet is removed...no wait, there’s another one. Daniel said he would contact Abydos, not the other way around, which is not for many more weeks.~

*And we have yet to find a new host,* added Jolinar.

~Oh yes, won’t that be fun,~ intoned Sam.

“Jolinar of Malkshur,” came Garshaw’s voice finally.

Jolinar looked up—they were done deliberating, so it seemed.

“If your previous information was correct, the harcesis shall not be born for many more weeks,” said Garshaw.

Jolinar nodded as Garshaw paused, resting her hands on the platform before her. “Yes?”

“Since the situation is therefore not immediately urgent, we shall wait until an operative returns from a mission to send them out again on this one,” said Garshaw, nodding her head to indicate that the conversation was over.

There was a second as both Jolinar and Sam were in shock.

“This is a most foolish decision,” said Jolinar.

~Hey, insulting the people in charge is not so good,~ commented Sam.

“What if another Goa’uld is aware of Apophis’ plan?” demanded Jolinar. “Or what if Apophis forgoes secrecy for the final days in favor of safety, and surrounds the planet with his entire fleet? As far as we know, now is the best and only time to accomplish this!”

“We are stretched thin, Jolinar,” said Garshaw patiently. “The only Tok’ra on this base are personnel unsuited to missions, especially one such requiring such success.”

“Let me go,” said Jolinar.

“It was our understanding that your host was unwilling to serve the cause of the Tok’ra,” said Garshaw, frowning.

~This is different,~ said Sam, encouraging Jolinar. ~This is for a friend—well, and for me a little, too.~

“She is full willing to take on this venture,” said Jolinar. “It is of grave importance for more than meets the eyes of the Tok’ra.”

“Let me speak with Samantha,” commanded Garshaw.

“Yes?” asked Sam when she was able to surface.

“Do you understand that by agreeing to this mission, you are in effect declaring yourself a Tok’ra operative to the Goa’uld?” said Garshaw, her face grave with thought.

“It’s not like the Goa’uld didn’t know who I was already,” said Sam. “We did blow up two motherships.”

Garshaw’s eyebrow rose, but she nodded her head in acknowledgment of the fact. “Still, suspected Tok’ra will be more harshly dealt with than Tauri, however troublesome. And that is only if you survive, if Jolinar’s intuitions are correct and there are neither Jaffa nor ships in wait on Abydos.”

“I understand, really,” said Sam earnestly. “On Earth our highest goal is the defeat of the Goa’uld—it’s just,” she stumbled a little, “well, this wasn’t the way we had in mind.”

“Understood,” said Garshaw, bowing her head slightly. “Know, Samantha Carter, that if you should succeed, your people will have the respect of the Tok’ra.”

Sam was quite put back, as Jolinar retook control. ~Is this that dangerous?~ she asked, suddenly a bit tentative.

*It is full of insecurity, with many variables out of our control,* said Jolinar. *We are not accustomed to taking such risks on short notice.*

~Ah,~

As if to prove the point, the discussion went on for another hour, bashing out details that even the U.S. military would have brushed over for an urgent mission. Sam was grateful that Jolinar seemed cut from a slightly different cloth, and grew agitated quickly. Finally she cut it short.

“These details are impossible to fully plan before assessing the situation,” Jolinar nearly snapped out. “I will give you a full report on how I dealt with them on our return, and that must suffice.”

There was a moment of communion between all the council members, and then Garshaw stepped forward again as spokesperson.

“Very well, you may leave when ready.”

“And may all the good fortune that has guarded the Tok’ra keep you safe on your journey,” added Ren’al.

ooooooo

~So, as I might have suspected, all this urgency?~ Sam trailed off.

*For naught,* said Jolinar, making her way back to the Tok’ra mess hall. *Some of us were not meant for this life, and find it difficult to remember how such it operates.*

~Oh, I know,~  said Sam. ~I’ve always been military, and I grew up thinking that it was a lot of brave men making hard choices under pressure—truth be told, I was disappointed when I realized all the paperwork that needed to be done, and then a little relieved.~

*A scientist? Appreciating record-keeping?*

~Right. You know, I can almost forget that you’re the warrior-type when you agree with me,~ said Sam. ~But really, there’s a point where even nit-picking becomes counterproductive.~

*We could not have moved forward immediately under any circumstances,* said Jolinar. *We did not need to. That was the purpose of the urgency, to make sure that the inevitable was done with well before deadline.*

~Right, like this whole ship business,~ said Sam. ~You don’t keep one around?~

*And attract the Goa’uld?* answered Jolinar. *We live in subterfuge and stealth—at least for the most part. Taking Goa’uld ships draws attention, destroys cover.*

~And yet, on this mission,~ nudged Sam.

*The Tok’ra are in general overcautious to the point of foolishness,* said Jolinar breezily. *One who is strong enough to accept the risk of capture is in no danger of betraying the rest of the Tok’ra.*

Sam felt confident at that. ~Just out of curiosity,~ she began, though, a little more seriously, ~what would happen if we were to be captured?~

Jolinar paused.

~Yeah, I know you’ve kind of gotten used to me, but we’re allies, that’s all.~

*Does not your culture value death over giving in to torture?* asked Jolinar.

Sam flinched. ~We really don’t expect to make that choice,~  she said. ~But if things get rough, we hold for rescue until the final moment.~

*There will be no rescue for this mission,* said Jolinar firmly.

~So, you just leave people behind?~ asked Sam.

*Collateral damage. We are few already, we cannot risk losing others in a vain hope for regaining one.*

~Right,~ said Sam, deeply sobered and a little uncomfortable.

Jolinar swept into the mess hall, passing by all her fellow Tok’ra with nary a word nor a look. Taking a platter of food to the same table she always sat at, she focused all her attention on eating. Sam still found that it felt wrong to be eating with no physical effort on her part, and she tried to withdraw as much as possible to keep Jolinar’s actions from distracting her.

As Jolinar’s easily changeable mood had leveled out from its high, Sam realized that it had affected her as well. And that was a blow. All her life, Sam had prided herself on letting her weak moments be few and far between. After her biology and psychology courses in grad school, she had scoffed at people who made excuses for their errors by blaming their “heart” or their “feelings”. As she knew, all feelings were but chemical and neural reactions working together, and if you were self-aware, you could avoid losing control of them. It was scientific, but it had worked for Sam. And now, she realized that her science was poor and paltry compared to the vastness of the universe, where she could not even explain the process by which Jolinar could influence her own emotions. It was frightening and fascinating all at once, and Sam wasn’t sure which reason caused her heart to beat a little faster than usual, or if even such a constant as her own heartbeat was under Jolinar’s control.

~Do Tok’ra hosts ever fully comprehend all aspects of blending?~ she thought aloud.

*Should I be glad that I have no idea where this thought came from?* asked Jolinar with her mind while chewing down on a small red fruit.

Sam wondered how that was done so easily, but said, ~Well, I have been trying to be quiet. But the question?~

*Do humans ever fully understand their own existence?* asked Jolinar back. *Can you feel your body and know how to move every muscle? Which bones move which way, which tendons and ligaments are required? Where the source of each little pain comes from? Where the food you ate an hour ago is exactly in the digestive system? How many areas of your mind are activated with a single thought?*

~No,~ said Sam. ~Much of that, yes, but not all.~

*To us, such knowledge comes almost without thought,* said Jolinar. *But the process of blending and being Tok’ra is just a natural process, a science like human anatomy is to you. Even the most careless host, after a year, probably knows more of it than most Tok’ra. After twenty years, or a hundred, it becomes a foundation of all other knowledge, rarely thought of.*

~You’d know, wouldn’t you,~  said Sam. ~How many hosts have you had?~

*Such a thing is not talked of among the Tok’ra,* said Jolinar, brooding and with a hint of warning.

~So many things...I hope you are kinder to your voluntary hosts about such issues,~ said Sam. ~Or should I just warn them that you are more than usually testy?~

*A voluntary host would care about the relationship, and not constantly and deliberately thwart the desires of his or her symbiote,* answered Jolinar.

~Yup, they’re going to know everything before you let me go,~ said Sam.

*Now come, I thought we were focused on the mission,* continued Jolinar.

~It is not until tomorrow at least, so you said,~ said Sam.

*Yes, but there are preparations that will take up the rest of the day,* said Jolinar. *To obtain a ship we must pose as a Goa’uld, and that will take more than traditional Tok’ra equipment to achieve.*

~Yes, please, let’s get on with that,~ said Sam, willingly changing the subject.

Outside of their mind, Martouf and Lantash came up to the table.

“Ah,” said Jolinar, looking up.

Lantash had a frown on his face. “You went to the Council and requested another mission?”

“It was not out of desire, but necessity,” she answered.

Lantash sat down with determination opposite her. “I have only just gotten you back from near-death, and you leave after denying me your presence during your one day here?”

Jolinar flinched. “You know that the good of the Tok’ra outweighs all.”

“I only know that it seems to be all in your eyes,” said Lantash, leaning forward.

“This is not ideal, as you are well aware,” said Jolinar, frustratedly. “I had not intended to leave until a suitable host could be found, but circumstances changed.”

“Yes, and at the first moment you leapt for a mission,” said Lantash. “Especially with this situation, you should have been patient.”

“I do not force Samantha into this,” said Jolinar. “She requested it.”

“She does not know enough to make an informed request,” said Lantash sharply. “For I know you well enough to know you have explained only that which was demanded of you to explain.”

“She is no down-trodden woman of a Goa’uld’s world, who must be trained to think and fight,” answered Jolinar strongly. “She is a warrior of her own right, and not afraid or even unaware of what we will be facing.”

Lantash sat back in his chair, sighed, and bowed his head. “My love,” said Martouf as he surfaced. “Can you not wait one day at least?”

“And give another day to the enemies of Apophis?” said Jolinar.

“It is but a day,” said Martouf, a soft smile in the corners of his mouth. “You have always been careful about time, but not all in the world count by every second.”

Jolinar rested her forearms on the table, leaning in a little. “And if we go, and find Amonet one day gone?”

“The likelihood of that, Jolinar,” countered Martouf, leaning in the merest fraction of an inch. “You know as I do how slim it is.”

“You worry both too much and too little,” said Jolinar. “If undertaken now, I will feel certain of our success and not fear for either of our lives. Any wait leads to more danger, both for the mission and for us.” She pushed her plate away, gathering up the utensils.

“So this conversation is done?” said Martouf.


“Neither Samantha nor I wish to waste our time,” said Jolinar, taking her plate and rising.

Martouf also stood up, putting a hand on hers. “Jolinar—my love—we are not angry at you.”

“Then why push me so?” asked Jolinar, looking him straight in the eye. “Why must this issue always arise, when you know you will get no new response?”

“Not always, Jolinar,” said Martouf, stroking her hand soothingly. “We might not have spoken had it not been for Samantha.”

Jolinar sighed. “I have missed your company as well,” she added. “I promise that I shall take my leave of duty as soon as it is a viable option.”

Martouf nodded. “And before you go?”

“I shall not leave unfarewelled,” said Jolinar.

Martouf smiled a little, squeezed her hand, and followed her as she disposed of her dishes. Then they parted ways, as before.

~I did not realize that this would be an issue for him,~ said Sam.

*Do not feel guilty,* said Jolinar. *Martouf and Lantash are more about thoughts than actions. I tire of all this talk.*

~I don’t,~ said Sam. ~That is, it felt good to be around those who spoke in more than three word sentences for a change, but I am ready to go now.~

*Good. I will expect more silence than usual on this mission, for I must hold up the pretense of having suppressed my host,* said Jolinar.

ooooooo

Jolinar led Sam to many different areas of the Tok’ra base the rest of that afternoon. First came a room full of gaudy and brilliantly-patterned clothing, and Jolinar took for herself one of the most distracting. Sam was quietly conflicted with the style of clothing, more slave waitress than god, she thought—but then, Jolinar had said they would only be posing as a minor Goa’uld. Still, Sam wasn’t used to showing that much skin. At least she wouldn’t be the one having to act comfortable, and considering Jolinar’s Tok’ra wardrobe, she wouldn’t find it an issue.

Next was the vast warehouse of Goa’uld technology and equipment. Sam would have nearly drooled over the amazing resource, but Jolinar was swift and sure, and took only what she needed; a communicator, a hand device, a healing device, and a couple odds and ends that Sam did not recognize. But as they walked out, and Sam saw all the oddly shaped devices, some of which had forms that betrayed their purpose—she vowed to demand of Jolinar as soon as they were separated that exploring this place would be her recompense for all the inconvenience.

Soon after, a return trip to the infirmary. Larys was alone there, and lit up to see her return. After a compliment on her recovered looks, he retrieved a small case of vials, shots, and jars. No bandages, because if nothing else a Tok’ra symbiote could stop bleeding quickly.

“You will be safe,” he said as Jolinar left. “I wouldn’t be as kind with my words were you to return to my care.”

“I shan’t fail again,” said Jolinar, and did Sam imagine that her eyes rolled or was it just a long blink?

~So, how will we transport this without a ship?~ asked Sam. ~I assume you don’t have Jaffa.~

*We will transport many of these supplies to a small moon near where we shall commandeer our ship, and once we have it, it will be a short trip to retrieve them.*

 Sam noticed that they brought no food, a fact she would not have found surprising had not Jolinar eaten every day like a human. Still, it would be a short trip, would it not? And these Al’kesh that Jolinar talked of must have emergency rations.

It was almost night when Jolinar made her last stop, to a room that looked suspiciously like the central computer monitor station in the SGC, with dozens of screens and lights flickering in the dark room. A Tok’ra with a youngish host brought forward a small, tablet sized computer to Jolinar after a few moments, but as no questions were asked and no answers given, it was a strange transaction.

~This is?~ asked Sam.

*The most up-to-date information from all our operatives,* said Jolinar. *Unlikely to be required, but being caught without it is a position of helplessness that I do not wish to be in again.*

By the time they returned to Jolinar’s chambers, it felt like night, even if the tunnels were only dimmed artificially. After several trips, the amount of equipment was surprising to Sam. But thanks, she assumed, to the many centuries of similar Tok’ra missions, the Tok’ra version of a suitcase was specially built to fit all of this exactly. Jolinar kept out a few things, “pocket items” as she said, and her outfit. Sam didn’t look too closely, but had to acknowledge that it was worse than her prom dress in both daring and horrid style.

Sam expected that they would go to rest now, considering the important departure tomorrow, but Jolinar did not make a move once all was laid neatly it its place.

*I must ask a favor of you,* she said.

~Really?~ asked Sam.

*Martouf, Lantash and I; every night before a mission we spend on the surface.*

~Um, Jolinar, I can’t...I’ve barely gotten to know either of you,~ Sam stammered.

Jolinar smirked. *You humans and your dirty minds...I would not ask such a thing of you, Samantha. My words were exact—we spend the night on the sands of this world and watch the sun and the stars.*

~Oh,~ said Sam, slightly more embarrassed than before.

*You would not object?* asked Jolinar.

~No,~ said Sam. ~Actually, it sounds very nice—I didn’t get to see much when we arrived.~

*I noticed from your memories that your planet is very green,* said Jolinar. *The worlds that the Tok’ra have always inhabited have been barren, to avoid contact, and the Goa’uld have no appreciation for the outside world. I have grown to love the warmth and the sand and the clear skies, but I see from your mind that it would be strange to you.*

~Well, Earth is not all green,~ said Sam. ~Not even close. It’s just—it’s a big planet, and without a Stargate, most of us don’t go far beyond our hometown.~

*Without a Stargate?*

~We’ve had to keep that a secret, for political reasons,~ said Sam, giving her the Cliff’s Notes version.

*And yet your planet is so often threatened... The more I learn of your planet, the more I am surprised we escaped alive,* commented Jolinar, and she turned to leave and find Martouf and Lantash.

Sam was surprised and felt a pang at that, but she hid the hurt and tried not to take it personally. The Tok’ra were older and had been living in this world for so long, and even they weren’t perfect—their judgment had little weight, especially for a world that had not known for so long that it should be preparing for new horizons. And Jolinar was pretty much tactless. It was easier to suck it up with someone like that, especially when they lived in your mind.

ooooooo

Three hours later, sitting on a soft blanket to keep the sand away, with knees drawn close to the chest in the cool breeze, deep red sunset recreating the simple tan desert as a truly alien world of beauty—Sam didn’t even mind that Jolinar had her head leaning on Martouf and Lantash’s shoulder, with his arm gently around her shoulders. They had been discreet, silent, and Sam hadn’t got the impression that it was just for her.

She was getting drowsy, peaceful and comfortable after her less-than-dull first day on the Tok’ra home-world. Only two days since she had been forced from her own world, and even with Jolinar symbolizing the separation of the two, she felt out of place. Even worse, she felt guilty when her surroundings made her forget that she was essentially a hostage. At this point, a mostly-willing hostage, and treated as a guest, but when it came down to the nitty gritty details?

She just wanted to find a way home. Beneath the unavoidable scientific curiosity of her situation, she hadn’t asked for this and never would have. If they could only rescue Sha’re, find a host for Jolinar, and when Daniel dialed Abydos if she could just convince him that everything was all right...and if she could convince the military... It wasn’t something she could plan for, but when her mind was less distracted by the amazing new things around her, it was all she could think of.

As Sam had withdrawn to let Jolinar have a semi-private moment with Martouf and Lantash, the symbiote had also pulled back on her end, so that Sam wasn’t even sure that her loudest and most deliberate thoughts would break through. Jolinar had always been guarded, but now Sam could only guess at what was going through her mind, and it felt strangely unnatural. Despite her confidence, was she thinking about the mission now? Or about the inconvenience of having to think of Sam? Was this tradition a form of meditation for them, just a symbolic ritual, or was she only getting a partial experience of what this couple would have done?

And more importantly, did Jolinar know what this all meant to Sam? To be sure, Sam had only met Sha’re briefly, mostly by watching her interact with the then-stranger Daniel, and later she had regretted it. She and Daniel had bonded quickly on the team, not least to have someone to hear and understand their rants after dealing with the warrior minds that surrounded them, but also on a more personal level. Sam was fascinated with how Daniel was both so open and so closed with himself, and after being around Teal’c and the Colonel and her father and General Hammond, it was a relief to listen to a man who did not find that emotions had to be ground and squeezed out but could be freely expressed.

But whatever their friendship, Sam had grown to understand Sha’re through Daniel, so much so that she was far more than a simple host to her. And she didn’t think Jolinar, or any of the Tok’ra, understood that. Sam wanted Sha’re to be free, not just for Daniel, but because it was the right thing to do. And she was willing to put her life on the line if the success of this mission accomplished that.

There had been a moment when Sam doubted herself, thinking that maybe she only thought of Sha’re as a bargaining chip to convince Earth to accept her back. But like all the millions of doubts that frequently plagued Sam, she was quickly able to examine and confidently dismiss it as meaningless. No one’s motives were pure, but she couldn’t see any way where she was compromising herself or others by taking on this mission.

The sun dipped nearer to the horizon, and the purple streaked into the blood-red sky, with deep blue and tiny white stars just beyond that. Night was coming, and as all nights before something big, Sam’s mind ran in circles for hours, but eventually and willingly succumbed. She didn’t know how long Jolinar planned to stay up, but it was not even fully starry-skied when Sam fell asleep.

Her dreams were plagued with Goa’uld ships and Goa’uld voices, Jaffa ambushes on Abydos and Apophis’ hand device, and worst of all Amonet’s laughter as she had them all in her trap.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 - Identification

Sam woke up with sand in her hair and in the corners of her eyes, the rest of her thankfully wrapped in the blanket from last night. The sun was behind her, and Jolinar was fast asleep. Martouf—or Lantash—stood on the ridge, looking out over the golden sand dunes lit by the morning sun. Looking at the state of the blanket, though, Sam surmised that he had slept nearby. It was an uncomfortable thought, but not as bad as it could have been under other circumstances. Slowly, not to wake Jolinar, Sam sat up and used her fingers to brush out her hair. Jolinar had not taken out the gel from yesterday, and combined with the sand, it made her hair gritty and sticking out in several directions. Sam pushed it all down as best she could, but resigned herself to the fact that it was bed-head, pure and simple.

Martouf/Lantash must have heard her rustle, and turned back. Judging from his face, Sam was sure he knew that Jolinar wasn’t in control—it wouldn’t be difficult to tell, considering how both of them held themselves and the facial expressions they allowed.

“Good morning, Samantha,” he said—it was definitely Martouf.

“She’s still asleep,” said Sam quietly. She took a deep breath; the slight desert wind was only a little less dry than the night before and there was a warmish smell to the air.

“That’s good,” Martouf commented. “She is so stubborn about it, but she needs sleep.”

“Really?” said Sam. “She seemed willing enough before.”

Martouf frowned a little. “Yes, when it becomes a necessity, but she lets it get that far.”

“Is that—” Sam started, then broke off. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” asked Martouf, sitting down next to her again.

“It’s just—I think her lack of sleep shows,” said Sam.

Martouf smiled. “Yes, you noticed?”

There was a pause, and then, as Jolinar was still soundly sleeping, “I hated her,” said Sam.

Martouf blinked, but didn’t flinch.

“It wasn’t just the irritability,” said Sam, “but that was part of it. I—I didn’t want to say it like that earlier.”

“I can appreciate that,” said Martouf. “It was wrong, what she did.”

“I don’t think that was it,” admitted Sam. “If she had ignored me, I wouldn’t have cared. But it was who she was, and how she acted, and the way she tried to convince me it would be fine if I would just accept it. It still bothers me, but it made me hate her then.”

Martouf nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in a slightly darker mood. “And yet, you aided her in the escape?”

“I didn’t hate her enough to kill us both,” said Sam with a weak smile. “And, well, just because I hate someone...I don’t get caught up in it. She’s not the first person in my life like that, anyway...”

Martouf cocked his head and looked at her. “Family?” he asked.

“Yeah, actually,” said Sam, looking up with some surprise. “Did you...?”

“I don’t think about those times much,” said Martouf. “But now, as Tok’ra, we are all children of Egeria, even adopted ones. And, well, families are not so different among other races.”

“The ones you love and hate to love at the same time?” said Sam half-rhetorically.

Martouf nodded. “Even in happy families, there is always that someone.”

“Yeah,” said Sam. “I don’t really know about that. We tried to hold things together, but my family doesn’t really talk to each other. I think I talk to my friends on the team more than I’ve ever spoken to my brother or my dad.”

“That is good, that you have those who care for you,” said Martouf. “You are anxious to get back to them?”

“Sort of,” said Sam. “I’m worried, though. I don’t want to go yet. I need this mission to go well before anything else can happen. That’s what I’m anxious for, right now.”

*Yes, I hear you,* said Jolinar, waking up. *Trying to be subtle in your waking techniques?*

~Actually, I was just talking to Martouf, not you,~ commented Sam.

“Awoken at last?” asked Martouf, seeing the change on Sam’s face.

“And perky as ever,” said Sam with rueful grin.

*We should move quickly,* said Jolinar, not taking control, but clearly wishing to.

“Well, I think we’ll be getting started,” said Sam, standing up.

Martouf stood, and scooped up the blanket. “Thank you, Samantha, for allowing this.”

“It’s okay, that was fine,” said Sam, giving the briefest of smiles to prove her point. “I guess I’ll see you when we get back, then.”

“Indeed,” said Martouf.

“Say goodbye to Lantash for me,” said Samantha. She bowed her head, and Jolinar jumped at her permission.

“Martouf,” she said.

“Sleep well, my love?” asked Martouf.

“Well enough,” said Jolinar. “We shall leave shortly, if there is no further interruption.”

“Then this is farewell again,” said Martouf with a slight sigh.

“For a short time,” said Jolinar. They stood standing for a moment, looking deep into each other’s eyes, and Sam felt that they were communicating without words.

Then Martouf lowered his head, and Lantash came forward. He stepped forward, leaning down to rest his forehead against Jolinar’s. “You have not promised to be careful on this venture yet,” he said.

“Must it always be spoken?” said Jolinar.

“With you, yes,” said Lantash. He was about to lean in closer, then paused.

*May I have this?* asked Jolinar quickly.

Sam held back for a second, then gave in, ~Keep it clean, please,~ she said.

Jolinar leaned up, softly kissing Lantash. Carefully, almost gingerly, as if Sam was literally in the middle and they did not wish to squash her, they shared this kiss. Lantash barely put his arms around Jolinar, thumbs running in small circles on her arms. It was sweet, it was tender, and Sam just pretended it was happening to someone else. It wasn’t too traumatic in the end—she rather liked Martouf, and even Lantash. She just wasn’t ready to behave as if they were married. The embrace ended shortly.

“We will be on our way, then,” said Jolinar.

It was a brisk walk back to the Tok’ra facilities, and though the sun was blaringly bright, the morning felt good to Sam. Jolinar was as usual, taking a brief sponge bath and washing her hair in a matter of moments. Again, she brushed it down and gelled it flat. But she opened a drawer and brought out rouge and other paints, a bit more old-fashioned than what Sam wore on special occasions, but perfect for the role. After brushing on a dark lilac eye color and a rich dark lipstick, what with the change in hairstyle, Sam was surprised at how unfamiliar her own face could look with the right treatment.

Then it was time to put on the rest of the part. The Goa’uld gown that Jolinar selected was a plum color, but highlighted in a more flashy magenta. It was made of a heavily jeweled and brocaded fabric, but the skirt was in pieces like a leather battle-dress and beneath it flowed a gauzy fabric that poked out between the slits. The bodice was lightly corseted, with a low scalloped neckline and short shell sleeves, with an under-sleeve in the same gauzy material that was slit on the bottom seam. Standing still in front of the mirror, it all looked stately and just a bit ridiculous.

It was frightening to Sam how she could almost forget that it was her there, not Jolinar of Malkshur (or whatever alias she would use), Goa’uld System Lord. And as soon as Jolinar began walking down the corridor, the under-sleeve and the skirt flowed out behind, and it was all quite royally graceful, only adding to the impression. Jolinar always held herself like a queen, but in this outfit her manner felt intimidating to Sam. That was a good feeling, though, she told herself.

Most of the supplies they had packed were already sent through the gate, and of the essentials that had to be carried, the gown offered several hidden pockets. It was a swift walk to the gate, where armed Tok’ra stood ready to dial.

“Good journey,” offered the one with a slight bow.

“Safe return,” said the other, dialing the gate.

Jolinar barely nodded in return, neck firmly held, chin and nose tilted a little upwards.

The familiar sounds gave Sam hints of regret as the chevrons locked, but she forced herself to ignore them. At last, the whirl and chaos of blue, and then the shimmering puddle. Jolinar stepped forward, took one last breath, and led them both through the wormhole.

ooooooo

Daniel ate alone in the commissary, as he usually did. It would have been his desire for the team to all eat together, but shortly after forming, it became clear that his teammates were not so social. Even Sam, who had clicked with him in almost all things, usually ate in silence and alone, probably going over various problems in her mind. Eating was the only time Daniel didn’t want to think about work, and he wanted someone else there to distract him from thinking about his personal life. Especially now.

No, especially now. It had been bad enough, this past year, but this was the third day of the worst time of his life. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, because they were all keeping up a good face, and he even tried to behave as if it wasn’t an act. But he missed her. They all did, and they wouldn’t admit the pain.

It was worse than if she had died, if there had been a memorial service and black suits and a time of mourning. No, this was MIA, and in the worst possible way. It wasn’t like they could scan every inch until they found her, even if they had permission, and it wasn’t like they knew she was just waiting for them. They didn’t know anything, and they couldn’t ask.

A little quip here, a joke there, and Daniel managed to get through the day. But eating breakfast was a vulnerable time. At least today would be full, as they finalized how the new team would look. He would have thought that he’d be more indignant, but maybe the loss of Sha’re had been better preparation than he knew. Whatever he had learned, it was that he could bury himself in his work and in other people, and as soon as there was someone else on the team he could get to work on that.

If he didn’t kill Jack first. Or Teal’c, except any frustration towards him was quickly tempered by his frightening presence. Mostly it was just Jack. God, how he missed Sam, the one person who could sympathize when their glorious team leader purposely pushed his buttons. When he met with the prospective teammates today, his one desire was to find a smidgen of that compatibility, at least to have someone who’d be more on his side than Jack’s or Teal’c’s.

Sighing, he looked at the clock. It was time. He picked up his tray and carried it to the counter. Truth be told, he wasn’t meant to be on a team like this—he wasn’t good at picking partners, especially not for a mission where loss could almost be expected, and he didn’t look forward to it. He’d have been more than happy to have the burden out of his hands.

Except, well, the other hands were all military. No, he needed this choice, to do justice to Sam and to the team and Earth in general as SG-1 resumed its exploration of the galaxy. And he only had to act like he was content about it.

ooooooo

The world on the other side of the wormhole was fresh and new. Jolinar stepped out onto a platform above what was almost a Goa’uld parking lot. Sam was overwhelmed at the sight of so many ships, large and small, but the numbers making as much an impression as the size. They were gorgeous and impressive, and the bug-like Jaffa moving among their huge bases seemed inconsequential to their majesty.

The Jaffa at the gate, however, did not.

“Who are you?” asked the leader, the symbol of Apophis in inky black on his forehead.

“I am Meshkhent, servant of Apophis,” Jolinar declared, voice harsh and firm. “I have been sent to a prepare a ship for his service.”

“We received no word of this,” said the Jaffa, not moving from his spot or lowering the staff weapon in his hands.

“Fool, I am the word sent!” said Jolinar, flashing her eyes.

“As our lord commands,” said the Jaffa, bowing his head. “I shall send this Jaffa to accompany you.”

“I need not his help,” said Jolinar brushing away. “Our lord requires haste, and I know well what I seek.”

“Of course,” said the Jaffa, bowing again.

“You shall not patronize me again,” warned Jolinar before sweeping past him and down the stairs off the platform.

There was a small winding path down the hill on which the Stargate stood, and then they were among the ships. Sam sat back, drinking in the view Jolinar gave her. She felt the tingle as the naquadah in Jolinar reacted with the Goa’uld ships even more strongly than with the other symbiotes. But she didn’t even need that connection—only recently had she been so close to one of these ships, and even then she had admired them. Now, as she was to fly one again, and the world wasn’t in danger—it was an amazing feeling of power.

Sam wasn’t exactly sure which type of ship they were going for, but Jolinar didn’t move towards the huge pyramid ships, and after walking past a couple of the tinier versions, she assumed that the larger, flatter ones must be Al’kesh. As they drew near to one, Sam was quite satisfied. It was a good ship, large enough to fit the alibi, but small enough for one trained pilot.

Jolinar walked with long strides up to one, and did not even glance at the Jaffa standing guard. She stepped inside, and Sam had conflicting feelings—Jolinar’s, of pleasure at the familiar design, and her own, on alert whenever near Goa’uld things. Jolinar walked around a little running her hand along the wall, the hand device clinking nicely against it.

“It is well made,” she said aloud to no one. Sweeping back out to the entrance, she stared down the Jaffa. “You there! Our lord requires that this ship be sent to him immediately. You will tell your commander that I have taken it, for I have no time to report to such a peon.”

The Jaffa’s eyes darted between the ship, Jolinar, and his leader up by the Stargate, but he bowed his head and marched off.

“Success,” said Jolinar with a dark grin.

Before any suspicion might have been made, she went to the bridge and sat down. Sam watched with interest as she adjusted dials and pressed buttons, and the whole thing began to light up. Then the engines rumbled, and shields were raised, and before another minute had passed they were in the air. Sam remembered the glory of her first solo flight in a fighter jet, and realized as the clouds gave way to stars, that this combined the glory of that with her ever-constant longing for space. Sure, she worked in space now, but it was really on land—not in space.

*We are free of the planet,* said Jolinar. *And only if the Jaffa at the gate suspected us are we in danger of being tracked. Otherwise, we left too swiftly. With some luck, it will be a full day or more before they discover the truth.*

A moment or so in space, and then that web-like window opened and they were flying through the streaky-blue-purple of hyperspace. Jolinar set the coordinates and controls, and walked back to the other areas of the ship. As Sam had suspected, there were food rations and other various things that might be needed for travel. Returning to the bridge, she found that they were almost to the planet.

They jumped out, Jolinar flew low and ringed up the previously packed supplies, and then they were back up in the sky and on their way to Abydos. Even at full hyperspace it would take many hours, and Jolinar retired to a more comfortable room.

~The people of Abydos have been untroubled by the Goa’uld for some time now,~ said Sam. ~What if they try to kill you?~

*You will speak to them,* said Jolinar. *We will see as soon as we land whether there are Jaffa, and if not, surely your presence will keep them calm.*

~In this dress?~

*Then mention your friend right off, Daniel was it?*

~Sha’re will know that you are there,~ said Sam. ~I’ve noticed how easy it is to tell where other symbiotes are.~

*Is she one to order her people to fire on sight?* asked Jolinar.

Sam almost laughed. ~No, I don’t think so. She wouldn’t be adverse to it if necessary, but she’s diplomatic.~ The amusement gave way to a mood much darker. ~That was before she was taken—who knows what all this time has done to her.~

There being nothing further to discuss, Jolinar went into some sort of deep meditation, and Sam wondered if it was at all related to kel’no’reem. The past couple days had been fairly kind on her and she wasn’t needing sleep, so she started to run through her old plan for increasing the efficiency of the dialing program. It was longer without recourse to a computer or even pen and paper, but that just filled up the time.

*What?*

The sudden noise in Sam’s head made her jolt. ~What?~

*I fell asleep, what is this about variables?*

~Nothing,~ said Sam. ~Nothing I was talking to you about, anyway. How long has it been?~

*I am not a personal timekeeping device,* said Jolinar. *Especially not while sleeping.*

~The Tok’ra need to invest in watches,~ said Sam.

*Time is rarely an issue,* said Jolinar. *As you’ve seen, a few extra minutes here and there matter little.*

~Come on then, I have to know what it is now,~ said Sam.

Jolinar rose from her relaxed position and wandered to the bridge. According to the computer they were about half an hour from Abydos.

~Wow, how long were you asleep?~ asked Sam.

*Not long,* said Jolinar. *And what were these variables that had you engrossed so that you did not notice ten hours passing by?*

~It’s not that simple to explain,~ said Sam. ~But I could, if you’re really interested in our version of a DHD.~

*That primitive thing?* asked Jolinar.

~That we invented without having a DHD to work with,~ said Sam. ~Yes, several other alien races have found it quite fascinating.~

*And did these races have a fondness for history museums?* asked Jolinar.

~Just, stop it,~ said Sam. ~Never mind.~

*How did Ra take the dialing device but not the Stargate?* asked Jolinar after a moment.

Sam smirked as Jolinar forgot she was supposed to be scornful. ~Well, we think that the DHD was on Earth but was somehow destroyed. We haven’t found it.~

*Have you been looking?* asked Jolinar. *Why give up after only two years?*

Sam laughed. ~Jolinar, we’ve been digging in almost every place on this planet for hundreds of years—just because we didn’t know what we were looking for doesn’t mean we weren’t looking for anything. And the Stargate was found eighty years ago, it was just that it took a long time to find out what it was and how to use it.~

*Eighty years,* marveled Jolinar. *And your history had nothing that might suggest what it was?*

~Well, if you believe Daniel...~ Sam trailed off. ~Never mind.~

They sat in silence, staring out into hyperspace. Only a few more minutes...

Finally the strange sky gave way to stars again, and they were just out of Abydos’ orbit. Jolinar took the controls and guided the ship to the surface, using her sensors as a guide to find where the Stargate was.

~What if she didn’t come here?~ though Sam suddenly.

*Stop that!*

The landing was smooth, and for a few seconds Jolinar still sat. She brought up another screen, and watched as it registered who was approaching the ship.

*No one,* she said. *Why do you suppose that?*

~They have been trained to fight against the Goa’uld,~ said Sam.

*Ah, here comes one. But one only—there are no Jaffa here, else they would have approached in numbers.*

Standing up and stretching for a moment after the long ride, Jolinar twisted her neck to one side until there was a light pop. Exhaling satisfactorily, she rose and strode down to open the ramp.

~Um, Jolinar?~

*Oh, yes,* she said, stopping and giving the control to Sam.

Feeling every part of her body again was a welcome sensation to Sam, even if the clothes and heavy makeup felt even stranger than before. Smiling, but nervously, she pressed the button combination that would open the door. It went down slowly, but at last revealed who had come.

*Do you know him?* asked Jolinar.

~Yes, yes, I’m pretty sure, but I don’t remember his name,~ said Sam.

The old man stood tall and proud, but Sam could read in his stance that he was just as, if not more, nervous than she was. She stepped forward, and couldn’t help but notice how strange the long skirt felt compared to the BDUs.

“My lord?” asked the man hesitantly.

Good father, that was it, and—Kasuf! “Kasuf,” said Sam, stepping forward and trying not to look worried.

Kasuf stepped back. “Who are you?”

“Do you remember when Daniel was last with you?” she asked. “And the people from his world?”

“Cappincahta?” asked Kasuf.

“Close enough,” said Sam, smiling. “Sam will work.”

“Why do you stand before me as a false god?” he demanded.

“Has Sha’re returned?” asked Sam.

Kasuf stepped back again. “What do you know of this?”

“She’s here, then,” said Sam, stepping forward as her heart began to beat faster. “Kasuf, I know this looks strange, but we didn’t know if Amonet brought any Jaffa.”

“You know the name of the demon as well,” said Kasuf, watching her with a strange expression. “How do you know this? Why are you here? Where is my son Dan’yel?”

“It’s a long story, Kasuf, but I’m the only one here,” said Sam.


“Ah, but you said we, I heard you,” said Kasuf. “Is Dan’yel coming?”

“It’s part of the long story, trust me,” said Sam. “Please, I need to see Sha’re.”

Kasuf nodded slowly, but he did not seem to stop watching her as they began walking. Jolinar had landed just outside the settlement, and it was a short walk across the sand to the tents.

“It is well!” called Kasuf as they drew near.

People who had been crowded in tents, leaving the walkways bare, began spilling out. Sam was not surprised to see that they still had some Earth guns, as well as Goa’uld weapons, and were ready to wield them if they had to. They stared at her with wide eyes.

“It is Dan’yel’s friend!” called Kasuf above the murmurings as they passed through the crowd.

*These are a strange people,* commented Jolinar. *Stranger than yours, almost.*

Kasuf finally stopped in front of a tent, and turned to face Sam. “What do you mean to do?”

“I’m not going to hurt her, Kasuf, if that’s what you mean,” said Sam.

“But it is a long story,” said Kasuf, nodding.

Sam smiled. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

Still slightly suspicious, Kasuf pulled back the tent door and led her inside. Sam looked around, and in the corner caught a glimpse of dark curls.

“My daughter,” said Kasuf, walking towards her. “You must see, it is one who knows Dan’yel.”

Sha’re stood up as her father came, and as she turned to Sam it was plain that all was as they had thought—she was unequivocally far along in her pregnancy. She saw Sam, and her face seemed to brighten a little. Sam stepped forward, and then stopped. Sha’re’s face darkened.

“Father, she is demon-possessed!” she cried.

“What is this?” demanded Kasuf, glancing past Sam as if to judge how long it would take his people to come.

“Please, let me tell you the full story before you do anything,” said Sam, putting up her hands non-threateningly. “I am not a Goa’uld.”

“Then why can I feel it?” asked Sha’re. “My senses have not lied, you are demon or Jaffa.”

“Not exactly,” said Sam. “Can we sit down? I’m not going to do anything, I just want to talk.”

Sha’re looked to her father. “You sit,” he said. “I will stand.”

Sam nodded, and stepped forward to sit by Sha’re. The woman did not flinch at her presence, but neither did she look pleased. But Sam, finally seeing her after all this tension, felt her shoulders and neck relax.

“Where is Dan’yel?” asked Sha’re, letting her piercing gaze rest full on Sam.

“I don’t know,” said Sam.

“Are you not part of SG-1?” asked Sha’re. “I have heard of you.”

“Sha’re, I haven’t seen Daniel in several days,” said Sam. “You were right—I have a symbiote in me. That is why I had to leave Daniel and our world.”

“Your demon is silent also?” asked Sha’re curiously.

“In a way,” said Sam, smiling a little, and more as Jolinar murmured in her mind. “They are not all demons, Sha’re.”

“A good demon?” asked Sha’re. “No, they do not exist.”

“That’s what she told you, isn’t it,” said Sam, and she almost felt guilty as Sha’re flinched.

“Yes,” said Sha’re.

“These creatures that take us, they do not all wish to control our lives,” said Sam, talking slowly as she tried to find the right words to explain it. “They need us, and some of them just want to share our body and mind.”

“I do not believe it,” said Sha’re, shaking her head.

“I know, it’s strange,” said Sam. “But these—beings—they wish to free all of us from the Goa’uld. They fight for us. They are the Tok’ra.”

Sha’re looked up at this. “That name...”

“She probably knows it,” said Sam. “The Goa’uld fear them.”

Sha’re frowned, thinking.

Sam reached forward and put a hand on her knee. “Sha’re, I’m here to help you. I know what Amonet has done to you, and I know what will happen when your child is born.”

Sha’re looked up, suddenly stricken. “You know what the child is?”

“Yes,” said Sam. “And we—the Tok’ra and me—want to save him, want to save you. We can take Amonet away forever and let you be free again.”

“Free for Dan’yel?” asked Sha’re.

“Yes,” said Sam. “I can’t find him now, but I promise you will be free and we’ll find him together.”

Sha’re looked down at her hands, then looked back up at Sam, her eyes sharp. “And if you are a demon who seeks to deceive me?”

“Would a Goa’uld try, or would they come with Jaffa and take you by force?” countered Sam.

“Maybe you want my information, or what my demon can tell you?” said Sha’re.

“It is your choice,” said Sam. “If you don’t want to come, I won’t stop you.”

*You would let this galactic choice rest on one woman’s feelings?* asked Jolinar suddenly.

~You would force her to a choice?~

*I would find another way first, but if the galaxy depended on it...*

~Well, it doesn’t, not now.~

Sha’re looked up. “You were friend to Dan’yel?”

“Yes,” said Sam. “I still am, I hope.”

“And the Tok’ra will not keep me from finding him?”

“No, of course not,” said Sam.

“Then I will trust you,” said Sha’re. “I do not know if I believe, but I will trust you.”

Sam couldn’t help it, and let her smile grow even wider. “I won’t disappoint,” she said.

Sha’re rose. “If you have spoken falsely, I shall not give in,” she warned.

There was no comment to follow that. “Let’s go, then,” Sam said. “We will take the ship.”

“But my daughter!” said Kasuf. He had been silent, nodding at times, but now came forward. “Dan’yel returns to this world, and what shall I say to him if you are not here?”

Sha’re looked to Sam, worried.

“We’ll be back for that, I promise,” said Sam. “It would be a disaster if we missed it.”

“How will I know how she is?” asked Kasuf.

“Is your gate buried?” asked Sam.

“Of course, Dan’yel said so,” said Kasuf.

“Okay, but he’s not coming for several weeks,” said Sam. “But if you unbury it in two weeks, I’ll contact you and you’ll know what happened.”

“You are sure?” asked Kasuf, and Sam didn’t know which one of them he was talking to.

“I am sure,” said Sha’re.

Kasuf looked to Sam.

“I’ll bring her back and she will be free,” said Sam.

Sha’re ran back to embrace her father, and then returned to Sam. As they left the tent and began walking to the ship, Sam realized that everything had gone without a hitch.

~Wow,~ she said. ~Not bad for a mission with so many variables.~

*Yes, too well,* said Jolinar darkly. *If this is luck alone, it is rarer than the rarest of possibilities.*

~We won for now, though,~ said Sam. ~And we can’t know what will happen next. I say we take the win.~

Jolinar silently gave in, and they reached the ship. A few more hours, and they would be in safety. Sam’s hopes were realized—the Goa’uld were not all powerful, and there was a chance that she could get home. That was worth even this horrid disguise.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 - Undercurrents

On board the Al'kesh, things were unnervingly still.

~You realize that you’re going to have to stay quiet for a while,~ said Sam as Jolinar set the course for the Tok’ra home-world again.

*Yes, I can see that she is uncomfortable,* said Jolinar, handing back control to Sam.

Sha’re sat in the seat opposite Sam, back straight and hands resting beneath her wide belly. The glowing lights of the consoles shone on both of them, calming and just a little surreal.

“I need to know the truth,” said Sam. Sha’re looked up. “Do you really believe me?”

“No,” said Sha’re without hesitation. “Not all of it. Much of what you say is too strange for truth.”

“You know, that’s what I thought when I heard that Daniel was living on an alien planet,” said Sam, leaning forward a little more comfortably.

“It was not strange to me,” said Sha’re. “Only Dan’yel was.”

“Well, he’s even a bit strange to people from our world,” said Sam, smiling. “No, I mean that there are lots of strange things in this universe, and not all of them are untrue.”

“My demon knew of the Tok’ra,” said Sha’re. “She knew that they fought against the Goa’uld, but I do not believe they are like your people. They only want the power of the Goa’uld. But if they take the demon from me and let me go to Daniel, I do not care.”

Sam nodded. “I’m glad—I think you’ll understand more when you meet them.”

“Am I not meeting one now?” asked Sha’re, eyebrow raised.

“Not really,” said Sam. “My Tok’ra, Jolinar, is being quiet. She lets me do what I wish for now.”

“But she does not push you down, but shares your mind?” asked Sha’re. “Are you not one in the same then?”

“Oh no,” said Sam. “We have separate thoughts, very separate. Most of the Tok’ra wish to share everything, but I—don’t.”

“Why did you leave your home?” asked Sha’re.

“I had to,” said Sam. “Jolinar took me when she was dying, and we had to escape.”

“Then they are not as different as you say,” said Sha’re, nodding to confirm her suspicions.

“That’s not the way it usually works,” said Sam. “Once we find someone who wishes to share their life with Jolinar, she’ll leave me by herself.”

“So she says,” said Sha’re. “And you trust her?”

“I see many of her thoughts,” said Sam. “And I’ve met her kind. I don’t doubt them now.”

Sha’re sighed.

“Are you all right?” asked Sam.

“I have lived without hope for so long, I feel unable to truly worry again,” Sha’re said. “But I think I should fear for this child.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” said Sam. “But there’ll be two worlds fighting for him or her, if everything goes well.”

“Two?”

“Earth and the Tok’ra,” said Sam. “They both would want you two safe.”

“I will feel fortunate if that happens,” said Sha’re, smiling a little.

“Are you all right with this?” asked Sam.

“My child?” asked Sha’re. “Yes, of course.”


“Are you sure?” asked Sam again. “I mean, I know it must have been hard for you to know that—that he or she was conceived—”

“From evil, yes,” said Sha’re, ending Sam’s uncomfortable trailing. “But this life within me is not Goa’uld. It is what they cannot do, have children of their own. This small child is our strength.” She stroked her belly. “I have chosen to forget all else,” she said pointedly.

Sam nodded, smiling a little. Sha’re bowed her head as she sat, one hand on top of her belly, the other wrapped supportively underneath. It was exactly as mothers held their newborn infants, and Sam wondered if it was instinctual to all cultures and all women.

~You should be glad,~ she said to Jolinar. ~She’s hardly talkative.~

*She must come to grips with her escape before she lets herself go,* said Jolinar less optimistically. *At this moment she is cautious, but it will be healthy for her to talk later. Only, not with me.*

~Does Martouf do that, help hosts?~ asked Sam. ~He seems to be, well, nurturing.~

*Martouf does whatever the Council demands,* said Jolinar. *Ambassador, statesman, tour guide, occasionally operative.*

~And you aren’t proud of that,~ said Sam.

*It is not what I consider a most efficient life, but I do not judge,* said Jolinar.

~Except you do, of course,~ said Sam.

Jolinar did not answer.

ooooooo

“Dr. Lee, please sit down,” said Daniel, standing up as the next scientist came in. Lee looked around surreptitiously at Daniel’s lab, apparently unappreciative of archaeology in general.

“I don’t really understand the point of this interview,” said Lee, sitting across from Daniel at the cluttered desk. “I don’t think I’m team material; I mean, off-world, someday maybe, but I don’t see that any time soon.”

“Well, we’ll see,” said Daniel.

Lee was the fourth one today, and unfortunately the most enthusiastic. Daniel had very little idea that doctors of the hard sciences considered themselves above people like him, and even less idea that they considered field work to be a waste of time. Now he knew, and his day was considerably worse than his predicted outlook.

“That’s very interesting,” said Daniel, cutting Lee short as he continued explaining his projects at the SGC. “But do you know anything about the Stargate?”

“Well, no,” said Lee, blinking. “We don’t have a good way to study it other than technical notes, which as you know are nothing compared to the real thing, but that’s being used on a regular basis.”

The interview went on from there, but it was just courtesy.

“Dr. Felger, please sit down,” said Daniel when Lee left.

“Dr. Jackson, so nice to meet you!” said Felger, coming in and reaching out to shake Daniel’s indicatory hand.

“Thanks,” said Daniel, shaking his head a little at the off-put. Well, at least there wasn’t disdain.

“I’m so sorry about what happened, we all are in the research department,” said Felger, leaning forward. “It’s all so terrible, and not just because Captain Carter was such a genius.”

“Yes, well, that’s very nice but we’re not here to talk about that,” said Daniel, taking a deep breath.

“Yes, this is about the team,” said Felger, nodding again.

“Have you ever been off-world?” asked Daniel.

“No, there hasn’t been anything of my specialty.”

“What is that, exactly?” asked Daniel.

“Um,” said Felger, stalling a bit. “Well, I do a lot with alien technology, but not really in any one area...”

Daniel looked at his personnel file. “You haven’t had a successful experiment?”

“Well, you could put it that way,” said Felger. “I’ve had some small successes, but all my major projects  have been cut short—waste of resources, time, those are the usual excuses.”

“Hmm,” said Daniel.

When Daniel finally convinced Felger that the interview was over, he had to admit to himself that it wasn’t much better than before. Felger was enthusiastic, but terribly unqualified, and generally clueless. Even had he been right about his scientific prestige, too, Teal’c and Jack would have never let him live beyond a day with that kind of personality.

Sighing, Daniel took a long sip of coffee and waited for the last applicant.

“Dr. McKay, please sit down,” said Daniel.

“Will this take long?” the man asked as he gingerly sat on Daniel’s well-worn chair. “I have a project going and I don’t want to let it sit.”

“Of course,” said Daniel.

“Well, just so you know straight off,” said McKay, just as Daniel was opening his mouth to ask the first question, “I didn’t apply myself for this, it was sort of mandatory for all the qualified people in my department.”

Daniel nodded, recovering from the first snag. “So you don’t want to be on a team?”

“Of course not,” said McKay with a knowing smile. “And lose my time for research, be put into danger on a regular basis? What scientist would?” He stumbled over himself at Daniel’s look and  added: “Not that I’m saying anything about Dr. Carter, of course, it’s just...”

“Yes, I know,” said Daniel. He picked up the file and looked at it. “How set against being on a team are you?”

“I’ve no real objection to going offworld, so long as it’s MALP approved and accompanied by soldiers,” said McKay.

“Marines,” corrected Daniel.

“Military, whatever,” said McKay. “But it’s hardly my first choice.”

Daniel looked at the file and frowned. “You are the most qualified, though.”

“You mean I’m the most promising in absence of Dr. Carter,” said McKay.

Daniel looked up and blinked at the bluntness. “Yes,” he said.

“I’m the only one in this operation who has the sort of expertise that would be useful for your team, and the only one whose ideas have consistently been proven useful, I know,” said McKay.

“You’re familiar with the workings of the Stargate?” asked Daniel, ignoring the arrogance for the moment.

“I know Carter’s notes backwards and forwards, and even have a few corrections for her dialing program,” said McKay.

“That’s not field knowledge,” said Daniel.

“Field knowledge is easily gained, it’s how well-prepared you are that determines how quickly you learn,” said McKay. “Most scientists don’t get that.”

“Right,” said Daniel. God, the arrogance of this man...though it wasn’t all unwarranted, at least not that Daniel could tell.

“That’s all you have, right?” said McKay, half standing up.

“Sure, go ahead,” said Daniel. McKay left, and he lowered his head to the desk with a quiet thump, taking a deep breath of the slightly dusty air. Why couldn’t the choice be easy? Why did it always have to be a lesser of two—or six—evils?

ooooooo

Sam and Sha’re had sat in the same position, in silence, for some time now. Even Jolinar was resting her mind. Just as Sam was hoping it wouldn’t be like this for the rest of the trip, there was a sudden jerk and the stars appeared again.

“Wait, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” said Sam, standing up and mentally cursing herself for jinxing the situation.

*Here, let me,* said Jolinar, taking control.

~We’re out of hyperspace,~ said Sam.

*I don’t need your commentary to know that,* said Jolinar, flipping quickly through the different maintenance screens. Everything would have appeared in order, just the ship flying steadily through space, had they meant to stop here.  *This is a mistake.*

~Sabotage?~ asked Sam.

*Jaffa do not think that way, neither does Apophis,* answered Jolinar. *No, this must be an error.*

~But that doesn’t seem like the Goa’uld either,~ said Sam.

*I know, but what other explanation have we?*

~One thing about scientists, Jolinar,~ said Sam. ~We don’t just look at the apparent explanations.~

“Your ship is damaged?” asked Sha’re, who had been watching the visual clues for the internal conversation in silence.

“Unlikely,” said Jolinar, and Sha’re sat back swiftly at the change in the voice.

~Introduce yourself,~ said Sam.

“I am Jolinar of Malkshur,” said Jolinar, glancing to Sha’re and giving a short nod. “Unfortunately this situation is not one for small talk. You can keep yourself out of trouble, I assume.” She looked back to the screen, mouth hardening as the results were unsatisfactory.

~Well, what does that mean?~ asked Sam. ~Talk to me.~

*It will not help the situation,* said Jolinar.

~It will do everything but hurt, unless you are too weak to take even minor questioning,~ said Sam.

*The systems are in order, the equipment was fresh from the fields, all necessities are in full supply. It is an anomaly, and yet I cannot jump back.*

~We can’t jump?~ asked Sam.

*If we had, I should have been long gone,* said Jolinar.

~Wait,~ said Sam. ~Look up.~

Jolinar looked up and her mouth turned down.

~Okay, so the sensors aren’t working,~ said Sam. ~That’s a ship, right?~

*A hatak,* said Jolinar. *And we are orbiting a planet. This is even less good.*

“Have you come to deliver me to your lord?” asked Sha’re strongly, her eyes dark in what appeared to be anger.

“Of course not,” said Jolinar.

“Then this is a Tok’ra ship we are approaching?” Sha’re continued.

“No,” said Jolinar. *We are indeed approaching it, and yet all the screens read normal.*

~They’re computer systems, they can be hacked,~ said Sam. ~We should go to the manual controls.~

*What could be the purpose of a hack?* asked Jolinar. *Different explanations are only worthy if they have some reason behind them.*

The console beeped, and a screen appeared to mask the sky. A bearded face materialized, satisfied but still threatening.

“Ship of the fool Apophis,” he said, in a smooth but derisive voice. “Your master has failed you, and you will not show any resistance if you value your lives. Be wise—your god Ba’al will be kind to those who submit to his power.” And the message ended.

Jolinar swore harshly, out loud.

~Okay, Ball?~ asked Sam.

*He must have infiltrators among Apophis’ servants,* said Jolinar. *He is a Lord more fond of victory without physical force, and I should have guessed it was his doing.*

~So, situation worse?~ Jolinar’s lack of answer was enough for Sam. ~Okay, you need to get me to the systems. I assume you know how to work them?~

*I have very little knowledge, but Ba’al will not expect any knowledge of anyone on this ship,* said Jolinar. She hurried out and to the control room, leaving Sha’re behind. Opening a panel on the wall, she revealed colored cylindrical glass pieces. *Crystal technology,* said Jolinar.  She opened her mind and flashes of picture and instruction went before Sam’s eyes.

~Okay, okay,~ said Sam, digesting and trying to remember it all. ~The system design isn’t entirely foreign; the same intuitive placement should help the gaps in your knowledge. We just need to jump to hyperspace, right?~

*No,* said Jolinar. *That is unlikely to be achieved. Instead, we must restore the systems. The calibrations will be basic, but I can ring us—*

~Where?~ asked Sam. ~The ship?~

*I should be able to reach the planet,* said Jolinar. *I do not think it is one of Ba’al’s worlds—merely a place for him to await his bait.*

~So it may not have a Stargate,~ said Sam. ~Bad idea.~

*It is more likely than not to have one,* said Jolinar.

~Hyperspace is safe,~ said Sam.

*You are unfamiliar with the systems, and it is putting all our options on one slight chance.*

~All our eggs in one basket.~

*Whatever. If we fail, we fail entirely.*

~Where you prefer to take a more open option that is yet without an obvious solution.~

*Who has survived longer in the world?*

Sha’re appeared at the door, cradling her belly. “We are almost drawn into the ship.”

~Wait, why haven’t any Jaffa ringed aboard?~ asked Sam. ~Shouldn’t that be a priority?~

*The system is definitely down. Ba’al prefers that we not escape, and is certain that his operatives could install the simple sabotage, and that it would be effective.*

“Are you in need of assistance?” asked Sha’re.

“You are not suspicious of our motives anymore,” said Jolinar, looking to her. “Good—Samantha was sure that you were sensible. But there is nothing for you to do but wait.”

~Fine, I will restart the system,~ said Sam.

“Go to the ring transport and await us there,” commanded Jolinar, then gave Sam her body back.

Sam would have reassured Sha’re, but the woman was nothing if not sure when her mind was made up, and was already out of the room. Sam thought for a moment of what Jolinar had showed her, looked over the crystals, compared the two, and made her choice. It was a guess, definitely, but by process of elimination there was a good margin for error. The first crystal failed to do it, but the second one worked. Everything went dark, and as she felt for the spot and put it back, she knew from Jolinar’s silence that it had worked. The crystal went back, and she pushed the panel back and ran down the hall to join Sha’re.

“We are going to the planet?” asked Sha’re.

“Good guess,” said Sam. Jolinar showed her the combination, and she punched in the numbers. “Let’s hope this works!” she said, leaping into the circle and putting an arm around Sha’re.

The light flashed, and then there were trees and the ruins of what was probably a temple. No Jaffa—not yet.

*Ba’al will know that his plan has failed, but it may take him a little while to know why and how,* said Jolinar. *Hope that we find the gate before he dials it to stop us.*

“You can walk?” asked Sam out loud.

“But not run,” said Sha’re, nodding.

“Okay, let’s go,” said Sam

She took the stone path from the ruins, leading Sha’re with a supporting arm. It was overgrown, but the stones were well placed, and they could move at a quick pace. Sha’re was breathing somewhat heavily, but her firm muscles had not been entirely atrophied as host to a lazy Goa’uld, and with her life on the line she would not complain. Sam was glad for Daniel at this moment, that he had such a strong companion. No wonder he had held such hope for her.

Above them, the planet was outlined by grey and dusky reflected light from a setting sun, and the canopy of leaves dappled the path below in various dark patches. It wasn’t exotic, just the usual temperate undergrowth and trees. The air was warm and fairly humid, the scent vaguely herbal—it felt like an old forest, someplace certainly uninhabited. Beyond the temple, there was no sign of life as they headed towards what they hoped was the gate.

~Do you attract this kind of trouble, or is it just bad luck for now?~ thought Sam.

*Neither,* said Jolinar. *There was no luck involved; it was inevitable that other System Lords would learn of Apophis’ doings and prepare to thwart it. We were caught up in it all.*

They turned a corner on the path, and exited the tree-line. The path continued, but now with saplings planted to line each side, and trained to bend over and form a loose tunnel. They didn’t slow down, but they could see through the gaps that they were headed down into a clearing.

*This is a good sign,* said Jolinar.

A few hundred more feet, and then the path opened up into a courtyard. There were slight ruins around it’s edges, but at its far side they could easily see the dark shadow of a ring. And it was not engaged.

Sha’re was breathing hard now, each breath passing loudly through her rounded lips, her feet stumbling a little as her concentration was on moving forward. Sam kept her arm strongly around the other woman, giving more support; she was glad for the extra strength Jolinar provided.

A few more steps, a few more half-running strides, and they were almost there, almost to the DHD. Sam let Sha’re on her own and ran ahead. Jolinar took control to dial the gate, but when they looked back, Sha’re was many yards off. As the gate finished dialing, Jolinar ran back.

Over the crest of the hill, there was suddenly the distant sound of feet pounding through the silence of the planet.

“We are just in time,” said Jolinar, taking Sha’re’s arm. “Come at once before it is too late again!”

Sha’re couldn’t run straight, her stride becoming almost a hobble, but she made good time. Over the crest of the horizon, the Jaffa saw what was happening and sent random staff blasts across the field. It was too far off, and they dissipated quickly. Sam, Sha’re, and Jolinar made it into the event horizon long before they could be caught.

Stumbling out the other side, Jolinar kept control. Pushing Sha’re firmly but not harshly out of the way, she pulled the tiny weapon hidden in her gown and slid it over her fingers.

*They won’t see the address, they’re too far away,* she said, and in a couple seconds the Gate disengaged.

Sha’re lowered herself onto a mound of sand, the sweat streaks on her face becoming pronounced as the sand in the wind stuck to it.

“This is Jolinar at the gate,” said Jolinar, using her communicator. “We require some assistance.” She turned to Sha’re. “You are not in danger?”

“It is just fatigue,” she said, breathing slowly and deeply.

A few Tok’ra ran up the hill, a couple with weapons drawn. Seeing Sha’re, they hesitantly lowered their weapons.

“The mission was successful,” said Jolinar. “The Goa’uld is silent, but the host cannot make it on her own. We met with difficulty on our return.”

The Tok’ra nodded, and moved to help Sha’re to her feet, one on either side. She cast a slightly worried glance to Sam, but did not resist or balk.

~Well, that went better than the last time we tried to escape,~ said Sam. ~I can’t believe we’re back already.~

*Did I not tell you it would be short?* said Jolinar. *The mission is complete, and now we may finally move to helping you as we shall help Sha’re.*

~Of course,~ said Sam, caught a little off guard by the comment. How could she have forgotten?

Chapter Text

Chapter 11 - Adjustments

Sam and Jolinar went to sleep early that night. Sha’re was taken under Larys’ wing so that he could check on her pregnancy, and then she was questioned by the Council for any sensitive information Amonet had. Sam took the role of being uncomfortable, given that Sha’re held herself like the leader she had been, and even her fatigue didn’t wipe that away. She didn’t know much, in any case, so it was over quickly and she was handed into the hands of yet another Tok’ra. Sam stayed on the edge of the proceedings, not knowing what to do but not wanting to be out of the loop; eventually Sha’re was settled down and Martouf and Lantash came to see Jolinar. It was a quick reunion, full of unspoken “I told you so” from Jolinar, and gracious silence from her mate.

And then it was time to sleep again. ~What shall we do tomorrow?~ Sam asked as they were getting ready.

*Nothing,* said Jolinar. *At least, not for a good portion of the day; I do not think my compatriots will allow me to do anything but take some relaxation, so I shall circumvent their chiding and do it without bidding.*

~While you relax, may I ask questions and do research?~ asked Sam. ~I don’t feel in need of extended rest.~

*I believe there will be time for such things,* said Jolinar.

Sam was surprised and pleased by Jolinar’s geniality; it was clear that success and a little fatigue softened her up quite nicely, and Sam decided to file that away as an important memory.

But that night she had nightmares of home, where she was living in an alternate reality like Daniel had only recently reported. Inexplicably, she was still a captain but engaged to Colonel O’Neill, and Daniel was trying to convince them that the Goa’uld were going to come through the gate. Teal’c was in the place of General Hammond, but that weirdness only struck her when she woke, and in the dream his insistence that they continue on their original path sent Daniel into near hysterics. Then, in the immediate nature of dreams, suddenly the Goa’uld were on base and they were all taken captive. Apophis took his hand device and slammed Daniel up against the wall with it, over and over until his head caved in and a pool of blood gathered at the foot of the wall. Then he did the same to the Colonel, and she was forced to watch it all, sobbing and gagging in the terrible horror.

She woke up in control; breathless, sweating, shaking. Curling up under the covers, she couldn’t stop her aching sobs, nor drive the visceral stomach-churning images from her head. Rarely had her nightmares been so vivid, and never had the environment been so foreign. There was nothing to comfort; she couldn’t go up and get a cup of hot coffee, couldn’t spill the whole story to her plants as catharsis, couldn’t even wait up all night until she could reassure herself that Daniel and the Colonel were just fine. Instead, all she could do was stare at the crystal ceiling. Jolinar was wakened from her distress, but wisely left Sam alone in her thoughts.

Jolinar fell back asleep, but thankfully for Sam it was near dawn, because she didn’t go to sleep the rest of that night. Even when it was clearly morning and Jolinar was only dozing, Sam didn’t make the first move. It was so hard to remember that yesterday she had been confident and then proud when everything had gone close enough to the plan.

*You are missing your home again,* Jolinar finally put in, not taking control.

~It’s nothing, I’ll be fine,~ said Sam.

*Yes, you will, but not until you get up and live this day,* said Jolinar. *You are hungry, I can tell; food clears the emotions away.*

~Okay, fine,~ said Sam. Yawning, she slowly rose from the bed and got herself dressed.   By the time she reached the mess hall, she had to admit that Jolinar was right about one thing, simple routines cleared passing feelings such as nightmare-induced fears. By  the time she was done with breakfast, she could think about the night before with near objectivity.

Sam loved projects and missions, loved the challenge and adventure of setting out to accomplish something. It was part of why she loved science, and why though she had joined for her father, she still loved being in the Air Force. But sometimes the thrill of the challenge kept her other emotions at bay; emotions like sympathy, love, regret. Learning about the Tok’ra and rescuing Sha’re had made her forget that the long-term plan was to get home free. But no longer, and she was going to keep it that way whatever happened today.

She was just standing up when Martouf came over. “Good morning, Samantha,” he said, smiling as always.

“Morning,” answered Sam.

“How is she?” he asked.

“Surprisingly quiet, meditating I think,” answered Sam.

“Then I have no cause for worry,” said Martouf, flashing her one last smile before sitting down elsewhere with his food.

Sam had no idea that a healthy happy Jolinar could be so still, so lacking in restlessness. She had only known the symbiote for a few days, but sharing the same head and body gave a sense of intimacy that would take a year in a normal friendship. Before disappearing, she had given directions to Sam about places of interest in the Tok’ra complex. But Sam had a duty first.

“Hey there,” she said, seeing Sha’re sitting on the edge of a bed in the half-hospital half-guest quarters where she was being housed.

“Sa’m,” said Sha’re, her smile a little forced.

Sam smiled at the distinctive accent, but then frowned. “Are you all right?”

“If I were left alone, I should be,” said Sha’re in that ruffled-feathers way of speaking. “These people do not understand such concepts!”

Sam gave her a rueful smile. “Yeah, I noticed that too. What are they doing to you?”

“Tests, all these tests,” Sha’re bemoaned. “I remember Dan’yel trying to explain such discomforts, but I never thought I would bear so many myself. And so much for the child.”

“I guess I had it easy, a back door into being their own and not as worthy of curiosity,” said Sam. “You are brand new to them, Sha’re.”

Sha’re sighed. “That is a little comfort. I have been told more times than I thought possible how special I am, how they have never seen a host so isolated. It gives me hope,” she finished on a lighter tone.

“Of course you’re amazing,” said Sam, sitting down across from her and touching her hand. “Daniel analyzes everything and yet he is in awe of you. Have they discussed when Amonet will be removed?”

“Yes,” said Sha’re, settling a little in her posture. “It is too dangerous before the child is born, so they are keeping the demon quiet with medicine. I still worry a little, but they say it is all safe.”

Sam looked thoughtful. “When Daniel comes to Abydos, it will be near the time when you give birth. Are you afraid that they will coincide?”

“Will not you be there to greet him?” asked Sha’re. “That was my assurance.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure he’ll listen to me,” said Sam, her mouth twisting.

“Why, because he thinks you possessed?” asked Sha’re. “Would it not be equally true of me?”

“No, not exactly,” said Sam. “Your—well, your case was straightforward, but the SGC likely thinks that Jolinar was a lying pretender. They would trust that Amonet would not attempt infiltration, but they must be on the alert when it comes to me. In fact, especially if Daniel does not come alone, there is a good chance the discussion would happen after I was stunned and secured.”

“But you will try?” asked Sha’re.

“Of course,” said Sam. “I will see if the Tok’ra can find a way to keep me safe until I can get Daniel to listen—and we’ll see from there. I hope you will be there, I know he would trust you.”

Then Sha’re looked past Sam, and sat up straight, her face hardening. Sam turned around to see a Tok’ra, one that she recognized by face but who was not close with Jolinar, so she knew naught else.

“Jolinar,” she nodded.

“Samantha,” corrected Sam. She had never liked that name, but “Sam” seemed beyond the Tok’ra’s tongues.

“Ah,” said the Tok’ra. “I am Anise.” She turned to Sha’re. “This device is designed to detect the mental capacities of your child, for maybe his genetic memory has enhanced his consciousness.”

“No, I will not do it,” said Sha’re. “My child will not be subjected again—I demand it.”

“You cannot understand how important this is,” began Anise.

“No, no, no,” said Sha’re, slowly and forcefully.

Anise breathed out heavily, her teeth probably clenched behind her pouty lips. “The child will not be harmed.”

Sam intervened. “Okay, listen Anise; she said no, and she is in full position to say that.”

“Full position?” asked Anise. “How can she comprehend—”

“That you are experimenting on her child? It’s not that hard.” Sam stepped in between the two, arms crossing.

“Very well,” said Anise shortly, and turned on her heel to leave.

Sam and Sha’re shared a satisfactory little look, and Sam mostly hoped that Jolinar didn’t notice the exchange.

ooooooo

“Dr. Jackson?”

Daniel looked up from where he was putting papers into boxes. “General Hammond.”

“I’ve been informed by someone who should know that you are stalling about something, and that I should approach you about it,” he said, standing squarely in the doorway.

“Who?” asked Daniel. He put the lid on the next box and stacked it rather precariously on the others.

General Hammond gave a half-chuckle.

“Oh. Jack.” Daniel frowned. “How would he know?”

“His words were, ‘Daniel’s cleaning his lab and no one ordered him to—something’s wrong’.”

Daniel paused and looked around, especially at the visible layer of dust way over on some Abydonian artifacts he hadn’t had the heart to touch. Brushing his hands together absentmindedly, he was without words.

Hammond nodded, saying, “I understood that you finished all your interviews yesterday, but haven’t made a decision. Considering that Jack has already chosen one of the new members, a Major Dave Dixon, I think the evidence shows that you’re having a difficult time.”

“Mm,” said Daniel. “You know, I was the one who warned Jack that it wouldn’t be easy?”

“I might have guessed,” said the general.

“So there I was, all self-aware and objective, and now I realize it was just another form of denial,” said Daniel, leaning against the edge of the table. He rested a hand on the box, tapping his finger in a slow rhythm. “Of course, it would have been difficult at anytime,” he added.

“Yes,” said Hammond, “well, the SGC was not set up with scientists in mind, once the technology of the Gate was understood. It’s still a very small department.”

“And no one like Sam,” added Daniel honestly. “There’s one or two that I think I could work well with once we all got to know each other, but I don’t think I’m the most difficult sell, certainly not on SG-1.”

“Colonel O’Neill and Major Dixon are military, Dr. Jackson; you don’t pick your commanding officers based on who you like, and the same is true with your men,” said Hammond. “You learn to live with it.”

“Live with it, sure,” said Daniel. “But we’re going to need a team that works well together, and to be honest, Jack doesn’t make that easy on the best of days. And even if the scientist has thick skin, Jack’ll take it out on the rest of us.”

“No magic answer is going to show up if you just wait around,” reminded Hammond.

“Does it have to be urgent?” asked Daniel. “There’s another few days before our next mission.”

“In which there will be paperwork to sign on a new team member, training and outfitting for the new team member, also time you’ll need to get to know each other,” said Hammond.

Daniel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Just go with your instinct, Dr. Jackson,” said Hammond. “As soon as you can.” And he didn’t wait for an answer before leaving the lab.

Daniel determinedly began loading up boxes again, but this time a little more slowly, thinking. He slowly ran through every option, pored over each choice looking for that one gift or flaw that would make or break his decision. And they started adding up. It only took about half an hour to eliminate the first couple choices, and when he looked at the final round, he almost groaned.

No matter how non-ideal the situation was, it was staring him in the face. He knew what choice he would make, and he knew that Jack wouldn’t like it. He wasn’t even sure he liked it.

ooooooo

Sam was finally starting to see the differences in the Tok’ra hallways, the ways that you could distinguish between them and find your way from room to room. Even Jolinar’s simple directions were enough to get her where she needed to go. Every room in the complex was incredibly simplistic, even the hidden closets in the walls containing rarely more than the usual dull content of ordinary closets, but this one—well, Jolinar may not have found this interesting, but she had read Sam’s interests well.

It wasn’t as large as the warehouse, but the contents were just as crowded and oh so as interesting. Sam stood for a moment in surprise and awe as she looked around—it could have been her lab, had she grown up with Goa’uld technology instead of Earth. Here, there, and everywhere were projects; some were apparently finished, others were in pieces, and still more might have been either for all Sam could tell. There was a wide range of sciences covered, too, at least biology, chemistry, and probably physics if not astrophysics.

A Tok’ra with tightly curled dark brown hair in a halo around her dark face was bent over a glowing machine. The golden light from whatever-it-was was full on her face, but it was plain that what made it look like sun shining through chocolate was her enthusiasm and excitement. She didn’t even notice Sam.

Sam walked over, not saying anything in case she should interrupt something important. The Tok’ra, whose host could not have been more than twenty, paused, then gave a wide smile and stood up straight.

“Hey,” said Sam, stepping a little closer.

“Ah!” said the Tok’ra, jumping back a little, but with the smile still on her face. “I was not expecting anyone. You are—Samantha, right?” she guessed.

“Does everyone know my name?” asked Sam a little ruefully.

“A new member of the family stands out,” the Tok’ra answered. Sam noticed that it was the host’s voice both times. “I see Jolinar is staying back. I am Reyfa, host to Dru’ri, and have finally met you.”

“Thanks,” said Sam, putting out her hand automatically, then pausing awkwardly as she remembered that it was an Earth custom.

Reyfa looked at her hand, then her face, then with an even wider smile she reached out and took it. “This is your custom?” she asked.

Sam chuckled. “Yes it is—I never used to think it strange.”

“So, were you sent here for something?” asked Reyfa.

“Not exactly,” said Sam. “Jolinar is resting, and I needed some way to spend the time. I am a scientist back on my world, and I think that’s why she suggested I go here.”

“Jolinar, suggest?” asked Reyfa incredulously, then followed it with a laugh. “You must be as strong as the rumors say, Samantha.”

Sam’s smile twisted just a little—she didn’t like the idea of rumors, even if they didn’t sound malicious.

“Well, what do you specialize in?” asked Reyfa, turning a little to right and left, her hands spread.

“Astrophysics mainly,” said Sam. “But I’ve been focusing on alien technology for the past year, of course,” she added, nodding her head to what was in front of her.

“Alien technology,” said Reyfa, and chuckled. “I suppose your science would be ‘alien’ to me?”

“That seems about right,” said Sam with a bit of a grin. “What is this?” she asked, pointing to the still-glowing object.

“I’m working on advanced sensors,” said Reyfa. “This machine collects data from broadcasting points, and coalesces it into a useful form—or, that is what it’s supposed to do.” The enthusiasm on her face wavered, and she added, “You do know I cannot teach you the details of it; our technology must be kept secret for obvious reasons.”

“Okay,” said Sam, a weaker smile on her face. “I get it, I’m not sworn to the Tok’ra.”

“We wouldn’t want to put you in danger of interrogation,” said Reyfa, almost with a shrug.

“That’s all right, I’m still interested in the basics,” said Sam, quickly moving along. “What is this?”

“This,” said Reyfa, picking up the oval shaped piece, “is an adjunct to the former project.  We are working on getting sensor readings through an active wormhole, to better predict what is on the opposite end of a gate trip.”

“Oh, we have something like that,” said Sam. “We can send a small vehicle through the gate, and relay back video and audio—it’s not very maneuverable, but it functions well.”

“Really?” said Reyfa, leaning on one arm to look at Sam. “But that is all you can read?”

“Well, we can tell atmosphere and temperature as well,” said Sam. She saw Reyfa’s astonishment and continued, “I didn’t realize it was that complicated, actually.”

“Oh, I’m not saying it is, necessarily,” said Reyfa, standing up straight again. “It’s just, we always knew what was on the other side, or could guess well enough. Only recently have we thought of making the choice more than a guess.”

“That’s odd, considering you’re so cautious about other things,” said Sam.

“Force of habit,” said Reyfa, a smile on her face again. “But if you have no issue with radio waves...?”

“No, they work almost perfectly,” said Sam.

“That shortens my reasons for testing,” said Reyfa, walking further into the lab. “Now, you also created a basic form of a dialing device?”


“Yes,” said Sam, following her curiously.

“And you’re familiar with the traditional form?” Reyfa continued.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever considered a smaller version?” asked Reyfa, holding up a bracelet shape.

Sam grinned. “Now I have.” She decided that she might not come away with a huge amount of information, but this afternoon would not be wasted.

ooooooo

In the spur of the moment, Daniel decided to get rid of some old souvenirs from planets that had looked interesting but proved pointless in the end. It wasn’t something he usually did until buried in such items, but he was in the mood for change. Carrying the two paperboxes full in front of him, he could barely see over the top.

“Whoa there!”

He nearly crashed full on into Jack. Pulling up short, his glasses hit the lid of the top box, pushing it askew and leaving a slight but painful indent on his forehead. “Ow.”

“Y’know, there’s a hundred ways this could be safer,” said Jack, taking the boxes so Daniel could rearrange himself.

“What were you doing near my lab?” asked Daniel, rubbing the sensitive spot with one hand and checking the straightness of the glasses with his other.

“Hammond said you reported to him,” Jack said shrugging. “And I finished eating and didn’t have anything else to do...”

“Yes,” said Daniel, taking his boxes back. “That was a few hours ago, actually.”

“So,” said Jack, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“So,” said Daniel. “So, I had Hammond ask McKay.”

“McKay?” exclaimed Jack. “As in Rodney, as in the guy who was ranting in the mess hall just a few minutes ago?”

Daniel frowned. “Well, his file said M. Rodney.”

“No, Daniel, I’m not having it,” said Jack.

“Jack, don’t make a snap decision,” said Daniel wearily.

“Daniel, I heard this guy, I heard the way he talked. There’s no way I’m spending any more time with him voluntarily.”

“Fine,” said Daniel. Turning at a sharp angle, he began walking back to his lab.

Jack, surprised, followed. “What does that mean?” he asked.

“I don’t know, what does it mean?” asked Daniel. “Hammond agreed with my choice, so if McKay accepts, what are you going to do about it?”

“I have command, Daniel, it’s part my decision,” insisted Jack.

“But are you going to fire him? Who is the better choice?” asked Daniel. He put the boxes down in his lab, opened them, and began putting the objects back on shelves. Jack had a way of making him feel rebellious, even if just against himself.

“I don’t know,” said Jack. “But come on, there has to be a nice scientist!”

“Who are adequate at their roles, but are not the sort who would do well on a mission,” said Daniel. “Yes, Jack, I did think to look for really nice people. McKay isn’t going to be fun, but he’s got the brain for the team.”

“You couldn’t compromise?” Jack said, pushing further.

Daniel held his ground. “Yes, Jack, I did. I compromised a little personal issues for talent. But I could have gone much worse, believe me—in a way, maybe even more, McKay is just the greatest of the worst.”

Jack smirked.

Daniel sighed, saying, “I didn’t mean to say that. He’s not that bad, Jack, I’m sure. I have a good feeling about this, and I’m inclined to trust it. Please, can’t you give the benefit of a doubt?”

Jack’s eyebrows expressed dissatisfaction, but he stood still with his shoulders slumped and hands in pockets. “You said if he accepts, right?”

“Uh, yes, actually,” said Daniel. “He didn’t seem interested in the idea when I talked to him—I did ask Hammond to beg him, though.”

“That good of a feeling?”

“Yeah,” said Daniel with a half shrug. “We’re going to want someone who can think quick and fast, and I don’t think his personality is unworkable in the end.”

Jack sighed, and Daniel relaxed inwardly. He didn’t have anything to say, which in Jack-ese most often meant he was resigned. It could mean he wasn’t sure how to formulate his words, but Jack didn’t usually care if they came out a little fudged. No, he was being cooperative as he had all but said he’d be.

“What’s with the boxes?” asked Jack after the pause, reaching out to touch some of the more oddly shaped ones.

“I was getting rid of them,” said Daniel.

“Right,” said Jack, frowning, watching as the contents were being taken out of the boxes, not the other way around.

Daniel almost grinned. Messing with Jack was too much fun to be anything but wrong.

ooooooo

By the time Jolinar roused herself, she loudly rebuked Sam for getting carried away and not eating. And since Martouf and Lantash found them in the mess hall, they both forgot about Reyfa until it was quite late—and then it was time for sleeping again. The day had gone by without event or even a high amount of interest.

Could Sam have known, she and Daniel had very similar thoughts that night. Nothing much had happened, to be sure, but they were both well aware that the adventure was only just beginning. Today had been part of the still and the sun, the calm; soon the winds and the rain would begin to herald the next storm. Sam and Jolinar would be looking for a new host, and Daniel and the new SG-1 would meet and go on their first mission. And they were both headed for the same end.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 - Goals

The next morning was almost like one of Sam’s memories of being on SG-1. Pre-mission prep, and then it was through the gate. Never mind that she had goodbyes to say, and never mind the desert around the gate and the brown leather suit she wore. It wasn’t home-like, but it was leading her home.

On the first of many planets, there was a small party of refugees that the Tok’ra had relocated. They were quietly firm in allowing only certain privileges to Jolinar—the ground rules were to be respectful of their separateness from the Tok’ra and accept one ‘no’ as a final answer.

“Are you going to die?” asked one of the small children with wide eyes, as Sam emerged after Jolinar conveyed their mission to the young adults in charge of them.

“No, oh no,” said Sam. “Jolinar just needs someone else.”

“Why? Does she not like you?” asked the little one again.

“Hush,” said one of the young women, putting a hand over his mouth.

“It’s all right,” said Sam. “No, Jolinar and I are all right, but we don’t want to stay together forever.”

Two of the young women shared a look, and then one spoke, “I know this sounds important, but, well, I don’t know about Tria, but I’m looking forward to getting married. It doesn’t seem like that’s going to be an option—do Tok’ra marry?”

“Yes,” said Sam slowly. “But Jolinar is already married, so her next host will be a part of that.”

Her companion thoroughly dissuaded, Tria looked possibly more so, but she asked, “Is he handsome?”

“Well, yes,” said Sam, coloring a little. “Martouf and Lantash are very nice in many ways.”

The two women shared another look, and inwardly Sam sighed. She knew it was a lost cause.

On to the next world, the next chance at fixing this.

ooooooo

“Dr. McKay,” said Daniel in surprise, as the somewhat shorter scientist drew up beside him in the hallway.

“This is the way to the ready room, right?” asked McKay.

Daniel nodded.

“I need you to know something, Dr. Jackson,” said McKay as they walked. “I didn’t want this job, and I’m not sure I still do. I only accepted because these idiot military types don’t respect anyone who doesn’t carry a gun and go out in the field, and it’s difficult getting the respect I deserve. I decided that the inconvenience of missions will be outweighed by the opportunity—that’s all.”

“Okay,” said Daniel, eyebrows as high as they could go.

“So I’m not going to be all gung-ho about these missions,” said McKay. “And I’m counting on you to be on my side if I need to stand up for proper time for off-world science.”

“You know, I know and respect Jack,” said Daniel, a little crease in his forehead.

“Right, but scientific advancement is more important than personal relationships,” said McKay, a little out of breath as he kept up with Daniel. “You wouldn’t let a once-in-a-lifetime event slide aside because he didn’t think it was worthy.”

“No, but that isn’t likely to happen,” said Daniel.

“We’ll see, then,” said McKay.

Daniel sighed, but continued walking.

ooooooo

“But there are none who are near death,” said the young woman, her eyes flitting to either side in case someone was listening.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” said Sam in a near whisper. This planet was still visited by the Goa’uld, and only Jolinar’s savvy had led them to the small resistance. “Anyone can be a host.”

“But why are you not staying? What is so wrong?” asked the woman.

Sam ran her hand through her hair, exhaling slowly. “It’s not anything in particular,” she said. “Just that my life was interrupted for this, and I would like it back.”

“But if I must give up my life, why would I do so?” asked the woman, still holding herself a little withdrawn from Sam and her strange proposals.

“You want to fight the Goa’uld, right?” asked Sam. “With Jolinar, you could do so for the next several hundred years.”

The woman wavered, but still held back. “But she would be in my body, in my head? That’s not the same as fighting with someone.”

Sam continued offering up the benefits of being a Tok’ra, how the companionship was dear to many hosts, how close the two could become. But she knew she wasn’t doing a good job, knew she couldn’t. She was giving all this up, all that she barely knew enough about to propone—this was not going so well.

Still, even when the woman refused, there were other planets and other people to see.

ooooooo

“Yes, finally,” said Jack when Daniel and McKay finally entered.

Teal’c stood to the side, hands clasped behind his back and quizzical eyes on the proceedings. Major Dixon stood just behind Jack’s left shoulder at military ease, which Daniel thought looked almost as bad as military attention. All three men stood lined up, and for the first time since the original mission Daniel felt out of place. He might have to take McKay up on that offer of a pseudo-alliance, assuming the man could keep his ego in check.

“I see you received your basic set,” said Jack, nodding to McKay’s green pants and black t-shirt. “Your jacket and zat are in a locker with your name. I’ve heard you have no experience with them.” His tone was crisp, like nothing he had used on Daniel or Sam—Daniel assumed that this was the Jack O’Neill of the black ops, a leader worthy of promotion.

“I don’t see the point of giving me a weapon,” said McKay.

“When you’re the last one standing after a surprise attack, you’ll want it,” said Major Dixon.

Jack grunted. “Major Dave Dixon, this is Dr. McKay.”

“Dr. Rodney McKay,” said McKay, not anywhere near offering his hand to Dixon. And Dixon looked just as likely to do so.

“These are the rules, team,” said Jack. “#1, I am in charge. No matter what your impression of this base is, it is run by the U.S. Military and I am in charge of this portion of that. #2, there is no touching or interfering with alien life or technology, unless you are the team leader. I don’t care how cool it looks, or how friendly it seems. #3, there is no shooting of alien life without provocation. Not my rule, actually, but the U.S. Military’s. If there’s provocation, go ahead.”

“But try to avoid it,” put in Daniel.

“#4,” continued Jack, “we leave when I say we’re done. My definition is easier than yours—and I don’t care.”

“Funny, I don’t remember being told these before,” said Daniel with an almost pained smile. “But I guess I learned them in any case.”

McKay was tapping a foot and fiddling his fingers. He had actually turned his back on Jack during the rules for a second, to grab his jacket and belt. They looked uncomfortable on him, even after Jack had withheld the helmet.

“Dr. McKay, do you understand the rules?” said Jack shortly.

“I understand your expectations,” said McKay. “But I assume you know that rules change in emergencies.” He lifted his eyes to stare boldly at Jack.

Jack responded in kind, a wide-eyed stare of some disbelief mixed with frustration. Daniel and Teal’c watched curiously, and Daniel thought he could guess what was going on in Jack’s mind. Here was someone who was just as rebellious to the establishment, but Jack couldn’t agree with him—not least because McKay’s idea of the establishment included all things military.

“If we die because you broke one of my rules in a supposed emergency, I will hold it against you forever,” Jack said finally, with a fierce glare. “And it’ll be worse if we only almost die.”

McKay frowned and opened his mouth, but then shut it quickly.

“Sir, we should establish a chain of command before it becomes necessary,” said Dixon.

“I’m first, you’re second, Daniel and Teal’c are equal if it comes to that,” said Jack. Before McKay could respond, he said, “It’d better not come to that, but if it does, I like experience on my side.”

There was a pause. Daniel had slipped on his jacket, just to fit the scene, and now they were all in team attire. It didn’t look right, and it didn’t fit, but at least they matched.

“Okay, back to whatever you have to do,” said Jack with a sigh. “Mission in 46 hours, 0800—you know where and what to do, don’t screw up.”

As they all started putting the extra equipment back, Daniel shot a glance to Jack. He was going to miss the old Jack, he knew—hopefully this regression into generic military leader wouldn’t last long.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar returned to the Tok’ra complex late. With nothing close to success, Sam felt worn and empty. She had to keep reminding herself Jolinar’s description of how much trial and error would be needed, that they would reach their goal eventually, that it was a surety not a possibility.

~Not exactly the place I like to go after a long day,~ sighed Sam after the usual set of long tunnels to her and Jolinar’s room.

*You need something other than food and bed?* asked Jolinar. *What?*

~Comfort,~ said Sam. ~Don’t you understand that at least? A warm soft couch, some old black-and-white rerun, a mug of hot chocolate...~

*I don’t understand,* admitted Jolinar. *But if it is a comfortable seat you want, there is a relaxation room.*

~I’ll try that,~ said Sam hopefully.

Jolinar led her to a candlelit room with many beanbag-shaped chairs, if a little more stylish, full of warm vanilla and spice scents, and Sam sighed long and slowly. Jolinar didn’t get it still, but after giving Sam control she didn’t have to. Sam lowered herself slowly into the deep and supportive cushion, leaned back, and closed her eyes. No Hitchcock, but oh well.

ooooooo

Daniel was surprised at how fast the days flew until their next mission—and how long that mission seemed to take. Ending up on a prison planet was something he expected someday, but being sent to one? Well, in all his naïveté, that had never crossed his mind.

“Of course this happens,” muttered McKay after Jack and Teal’c made a path through the dangerous looking criminals. “It’s like the universe is reminding me why I didn’t want this post.”

“We’ll get out somehow,” assured Daniel through partly clenched teeth. “We always do.”

“So far,” reminded McKay.

Even the cold fusion plant only excited him for a few moments, followed by a diatribe to Daniel in private about how they couldn’t trust this Linea.

“You don’t have any proof,” said Daniel. “And, she’s not going to trust us if we don’t show any likewise,” said Daniel.

“And that says it all!” hissed McKay. “She knows what kind of technology she has, I can see it, and she’s using us.”

“Why be so automatically suspicious?” asked Daniel.

“Hello, prisoners?” said McKay sardonically.

Reluctantly, Daniel handed his insistent comrade over to Jack—only to find that Jack agreed with McKay. It wasn’t too difficult to play up the tentative trust they were forced to give her, hiding their true intentions. And when Linea tried to sabotage their base and failing that, escaped, Daniel had to sigh. It was part a relieved sigh, because McKay’s paranoia had saved them and earned a little of Jack’s trust; but it was part resigned, because Daniel knew McKay would never let him forget that he’d been wrong this time.

ooooooo

Three days later and Sam was about as irritable as Jolinar on any day but a really good one. So many planets, so many possible candidates, and so many different rejections. Sam was nearly able to predict from the first few words which kind it would be.

~I don’t understand these people,~ she ranted on the way back home. ~What’s the main issue, being unable to continue your former life? I had a life, a complex, busy, wonderful one. These people barely survive, living in near-constant fear. Why wouldn’t they want to see all that the Tok’ra are?~

*You heard them, you know,* said Jolinar shortly.

~Okay, so Martouf and Lantash are a bit more to take than a simple loss of personal time,~ admitted Sam. ~But isn’t there someone for whom this life would look like a dream come true?~

*Of course,* said Jolinar. *We haven’t met her yet. But anyone who so hesitates at the beginning would be more likely to regret the choice later, so we have lost nothing.*

Sam sighed again. They made their way to the mess hall first, and saw Martouf and Sha’re sitting in Jolinar’s favorite section. Even in the dullish light of the tunnel systems, Sha’re’s golden skin glowed with the contentment that this time among the Tok’ra gave her. Finding out quickly who were solidly allies, she had stuck close to them and fought hard for her rights, and the rest of the Tok’ra had backed away and given healthy respect.

“Sa’m,” said Sha’re, catching sight of her and flashing her bright smile.

“Hey,” said Sam, sitting down.

“No success?” said Martouf sympathetically, reading the weariness on her face.

“I’d really rather not talk about it,” said Sam with a tight smile.

“There is good news today,” said Sha’re, giving her a kind look.

“Anise was...convinced...that she only needed to do a simple ultrasound,” said Martouf, the hint of a twinkle in his eye.

“And it is a son,” said Sha’re, squeezing Sam’s hand. “My child is a beautiful son—oh, I have seen him and he is beautiful.”

“That is good,” said Sam, her expression loosening, lightening. “Now you can think of names—unless you want to wait for Daniel.”

“Oh, do not speak to me of that man and names,” said Sha’re, rolling her large brown eyes. “He will fuss for hours over sounds and meaning, and the poor boy will be cursed with the result. No, he shall not be consulted.”

Sam smiled. “That sounds like a good plan.”

Sha’re exhaled and put a hand to her belly. “Ooh—he is ready to sleep again, I believe.” She smiled to Martouf. “Say to Anise that I knew that without her devices.”

He smiled back, bowing his head in acknowledgment. Sha’re rose and departed, the slight waddle to her step as endearing as her will to be hopeful under all circumstances.

“She has a most remarkable spirit,” said Martouf fondly. “I hope this Daniel is worthy of her.”

“As any mortal could be,” said Sam with a tired grin.

“And how is your spirit?” he asked, nodding to her.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Jol hasn’t been fussing, so I must be doing all right.”

“You are accepting her scale of what is appropriate optimism?” Martouf asked, eyebrows high.

“Holy hannah, what’s wrong with me,” said Sam with a sigh.

“Whatever she’s said to you, it cannot be enough to praise you for your fortitude,” said Lantash, taking over for Martouf. “You have borne these trials well, Samantha Carter.”

Sam smiled. “Thanks—even if Sha’re outshines me by far.”

“As do you outshine my Jolinar, in that area,” said Lantash. “But we may all be glad to be judged on more than one scale.”

Sam nodded, then mentally nudged Jolinar to tell her it was her turn. While they shared some sweet nothings, Sam withdrew to run over the day in her head again. Sha’re was right even without saying a word, as she let go of all her problems with Anise by focusing on what the stubborn Tok’ra had done right. And though Sam easily acknowledged the achingly painful moments of the past few days, there had yet been those gems. The hearty hospitality of people who had little to spare, the laughter of children even living under oppression, the fire of spirit in young men who thought to fight for freedom—and the knowledge that even though she was stuck here, it was with those who could one day fight with her to keep all those wonderful people alive.

ooooooo

“No, that was the worst day of my life,” said McKay as he impatiently stripped in the locker room. “I mean, it’s like the universe takes it as a challenge!”

“Right, Rodney, because watching your parents die over and over is nothing compared to what you went through,” said Jack.

“Leave it alone, Jack,” said Daniel grimly.

“Okay, but that was just grief based on memories,” argued McKay. “I had to relive my worst nightmare because the stupid alien thought it was a real memory! It was genuine child-created horror, only much worse because it actually came to life! Full, vivid life!”

“Listen, you just don’t get it,” snapped Jack.

“Oh, as if you do!” said McKay. “Have you ever been eaten by a giant white whale? Then I don’t think you’ll ‘get it’ either.”

Jack was within two hairsbreadths of ripping out McKay’s throat for his arrogant oblivion, or so it seemed, when Daniel stepped in. Eyeing Jack to make sure he didn’t do anything he’d get in trouble for even if he might not regret it, he glared at McKay.

“It’s obvious you have no idea what grief is, Rodney,” he said in a quiet voice. Then with a final withering glance, he walked out of the room.

“Damn right,” murmured Jack and followed.

As he continued walking, furious and heartbroken at the same time, Daniel heard McKay and Teal’c behind them.

“What? What did I do?”

“You have been most insensitive, DoctorMcKay—ColonelO’Neill and DanielJackson have lost ones that were dear to them and your comments trivialized those losses. I would suggest keeping your mouth shut for future reference.”

Daniel walked quickly on, wanting to escape the others and their words. He thought it had been bad enough to walk down memory lane alone—but he hadn’t counted on the power of McKay.

ooooooo

This planet was quiet, its wet environment only good for a couple things, and so only the property of a minor Goa’uld who reluctantly checked up on rare occasions. The people were well aware that he wasn’t a god, but most didn’t have enough issues to revolt. Except for one...

“So, you go out and fight the really wicked ones?” asked the young man, Sorac. At this point, Jolinar had told Sam to stop recruiting him as her host and start recruiting him as a host in general—it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Well, some,” said Sam. “Jolinar does, but many Tok’ra spend more time on the base.”

“You like adventure, then,” said Sorac, grinning.

“Jolinar does,” said Sam slowly, adding, “but I do too, sometimes.”

“When you go on missions, are you a small strike team or do you go more as an army?” asked Sorac, earnestly looking up into her face.

“Neither,” said Sam, frowning. “The Tok’ra go as spies, and usually alone.”

“Oh,” said Sorac, his bubble plainly burst.

~I don’t get it,~ said Sam. ~What’s his problem?~

“So, you spend most of your time alone on missions?” asked Sorac. He glanced down, and then up again, face crestfallen.

*Good grief, he wants to join the Tok’ra for you,* thought Jolinar disgustedly.

~What?~ asked Sam.

*Look at him, he’s captivated by your face, not your words,* said Jolinar. *And here I was thinking he might be a useful addition...*

Sam flushed slightly, and stammered out her answer. “Yes.” She took a deep breath, eyed him pointedly, and continued: “You do realize I’m not a Tok’ra, right? I’m Jolinar’s host, but once we find her a new one, I’m going back to my home.”

Sorac’s face fell even further, but there was a brightness a moment later. “Do your people have a military I could join?”

Sam sighed. This one she would actually have to dissuade.

ooooooo

“Finally,” said McKay. “Three planets of getting captured and getting tantalizing glimpses of interesting technology, and we finally get somewhere! No technology for us, of course...but do you ever do that?”

“Oh yes,” said Jack. “Who do you think keeps all your pretty scientist friends busy? Not SG-3, I tell you!”

“They are not my friends,” scoffed McKay.

“We do have a pretty bad ratio,” admitted Daniel, pondering. “Just looking recently, we could have had cold fusion, virtual reality...”

“A sarcophagus,” added McKay. Daniel flinched at that—he would rather forget that unfortunate incident. “And now, an Asgard battleship.”

“Mothership,” corrected Teal’c.

“Whatever,” said McKay.

“We get more than our fair share of sticky situations,” said Jack. “It’s not our fault.”

“Indeed,” said Teal’c. “From what I have seen of the other teams, the outcome would not have been better if any of them had faced similar situations.”

“That’s right,” said McKay, still lit up from the amazing Asgard technology. “We’re good, you have to say that.”

Daniel raised his eyebrows, looked to Jack, saw his “What?” look, and shrugged. McKay had seemed predictable...maybe not?

ooooooo

Three and a half weeks. Trial and error, Jolinar had said, and Sam had repeated it 24 times at least. How easy it was for her to be patient when it was science, but each day at this tiresome search was another day away from her science. Sometimes, at her most desperate, Sam wished she could just compromise with Jolinar so she could have one day at the search and the next playing with Tok’ra technology, and so on. But the Tok’ra had been clear, limited sharing of knowledge unless one was committed—Sam had already learned more than was generally allowed.

And then the sight of Sha’re, even more incredibly pregnant now, would remind her of all she had left behind. What had SG-1 done without her? Were they even alive? God, how she missed them! And that meant she couldn’t slow down, couldn’t lessen her efforts until they found that elusive perfect host.

One good thing was, they had recruited a host in general—quiet, serious, not very interesting, but very firm and loyal. Even had Jolinar wished to change genders, she was unimpressed by his personality, and so he was a clear reject. But not for all—it was only a few days later when they received word from a distant post of a Tok’ra near death, and by chance did they have any hope for him? Young Brana was happy to be joined at last, and the Council, a little frustrated at how much time Jolinar was spending away from the field, was satisfied and pleased with her for now.

But proud as that made Sam feel for a little while, in the long term it did her little good. The only thing that helped in that area were Sha’re and Martouf and Lantash. The former, simply someone to share some things with that no one else could understand, not unlike Daniel had been to her. The latter—well, that was more complicated. There had been an  unspoken agreement that they were hopelessly attached to Jolinar, and since that meant that Sam was right smack in the middle of all of it, there was no point in staying awkward about it. So in between more intimate conversations with Jolinar, Lantash had gotten into a habit of poking at the bubble Sam always raised around herself at those times with questions and even teasing. And sometimes, when he said something a bit blunt or shocking, Martouf would be there with something to lighten the air. They couldn’t remove all the awkwardness, but the friendship they sought to cultivate with Sam grew at a steady rate.

There were only a few other Tok’ra that Jolinar ever spent time with, and so few that Sam knew well. She had never had a wide social circle, though, so that wasn’t a big concern for her. Or rather, it wasn’t when they didn’t give her rather odd looks. Every so often, Sam would feel that the other Tok’ra were well aware of her anomalous status on the base, and were both curious and disapproving of it. It wasn’t like Sam had wanted to be in this limbo, though, so she quickly pushed it aside and focused on the mission.

Surely any day would be the day. Surely. What would she do if the time came and Sha’re was the only change she could show to Daniel? Kasuf, who judged quickly, was now on her side—but Daniel didn’t let anyone convince him without reason. And so the cycle continued, frustrating Jolinar, as Sam went from weariness to renewed resolve, back to weariness, and then to resolve again.

ooooooo

It scared Daniel that this last mission he had not thought of Sam at all. Sure, only a week and a half previously, O’Neill being pinned to a wall by a mysterious alien device, leaving Daniel forced to work side-by-side with a more paranoid than usual McKay, had him feeling the loss keenly. But not this one—it wasn’t the usual mission, of course, and McKay had fussed for a moment why they all needed to go to rescue Teal’c’s son. But just for a moment—one sight of Teal’c’s determined face would do that to anyone, and Daniel suspected by now that some of McKay’s bluster was just for show.

He had to leave that grief behind for the moment, though, and face another one. Sha’re. So certain of success, he had promised Kasuf that he would return in a year, and he had fully meant that Sha’re would be with him. Well, an Abydonian year was almost past, and he was going to go back even more empty-handed than how he had left. He hadn’t given up hope, but it was still an extreme blow to the confidence he had been building up since Sam’s loss.

Sam and Sha’re, both lost out there and waiting to be found. Kasuf would have to know that, know how much he wanted and intended to find and bring them back. It wasn’t like he could forget about it, even on the most interesting mission. One more loss, and Daniel’s entire mission through the Gate would be the eventual rescue of lost loved ones.

ooooooo

*It is almost upon us,* said Jolinar one evening. *All that you have been planning towards.*

~And Sha’re has not given birth yet,~ said Sam.

*Don’t veer from the point!* said Jolinar. *You know what you are feeling.*

~We haven’t found a host, and it’s been almost two months,~ said Sam darkly.

*I would not have put much hope in something better,* said Jolinar. *Our experience has not been more difficult than usual.*

~I know, I just thought luck would be on our side,~ said Sam.

*Luck,* said Jolinar, rolling her eyes. *But if you do believe in it still, perhaps it will show favor to you when you see your friends again.*

~One can only hope, right?~ said Sam wryly.

*We will survive, whatever happens,* said Jolinar. *And if nothing else, surely Daniel and Sha’re will be united again.*

~That won’t be enough for me, I’m afraid,~ admitted Sam.

*I know,* said Jolinar. *And I won’t quit either. I have not failed yet, and I don’t plan to.*

Of all the times she had said something similar, this time Sam most felt like she should believe Jolinar, and yet was most unsure of what she could do. Almost two months gave one plenty of time to think, worry, prepare—circumstances weren’t ideal, but mentally, Sam was as ready as she ever would be to see her friends again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 - Danger

“Is all ready?” asked Jolinar, walking in on Martouf and two other Tok’ra in the small chamber that served as a ready room.

“So it would seem,” said Martouf. “Kasuf has unburied the Abydos gate, and we have made contact once again. He will only allow you and Sha’re to come through, though—until we remove Amonet from Sha’re, he will not be fully satisfied that we speak the truth.”

“Old men,” said Jolinar, shaking her head.

“Fathers, more like,” said Martouf, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. “The Council informed me that they are very concerned with letting Sha’re go on this mission. She could give birth any day, and Amonet is only under sedation—they are afraid she will escape.”

“That will not happen,” said Jolinar.

“So I told them,” said Martouf. “They are willing to let you have this last chance.”

Jolinar scanned the various items on the table in front of her. “These?”

“Sedation for Amonet, should you stay that long,” said Martouf. “A personal shield, should Samantha’s friends prove hasty.”

“That is all?” asked Jolinar.

“You expected more?” asked Martouf.

Jolinar gave a small smile, and picked the small devices up.

Lantash spoke next. “You are looking well,” he said, looking her up and down.

“Samantha is influencing my excitement for this,” said Jolinar with a sigh.

“That is not what I meant,” said Lantash smiling. “You have rarely chosen such a look.”

Jolinar glanced down at herself. “Ah.” She had allowed Sam to arrange her hair in Sam’s old fashion, and Sam had been surprised at how her hair had grown since she last wore it where the length was noticeable. Also, she had specifically requested a simple beige Tok’ra suit, one like Jolinar would not own.

“You look very approachable,” said Lantash. Jolinar grimaced, and Lantash smiled. He stepped forward, putting a hand on her arm. “These safety measures—they do not eliminate all danger.”

“Samantha assures me it will not come to that,” said Jolinar. “She believes that Sha’re will be proof beyond what her friends can deny, and it will be ‘smooth sailing’ from then on. And I have met her friends before, I do not believe Daniel would pose any danger to me, even if he was trying to.”

“Remember that you represent the Tok’ra,” Lantash added warningly. “You made a poor first contact—second chances are not freely given, so you must try even harder.”

Jolinar shook her head a little, but reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Samantha insists that I should not keep Sha’re waiting. Abydos will be ready to receive us shortly.”

Lantash wrapped his arms around her, giving a little squeeze. “Very well then.”

ooooooo

“So, Abydos then,” said Jack as the pre-mission briefing ended. “I miss the place.”

“Yeah,” said Daniel a little sadly, picking up his papers. “It’s too bad you have to go to Washington—I think they’d like to see you again there.”

“Well, Hammond says the President has a busy schedule,” said Jack shrugging, then stretching and rising from his seat.

“And this is my one chance, yeah, I know,” said Daniel. “Teal’c said he’d go with me. Dixon offered to come too, but I don’t think I’ll need anyone but Teal’c. He deserves a day off anyway, to see the kids.”

“Yeah, I’ll miss them too,” said Jack fondly, resting his hands on the back of the chair.

“You okay with all this, going to Washington?” asked Daniel, putting on his glasses again as he stood up.

“You mean accepting a medal that should have gone to Carter as well?” said Jack.

Daniel nodded, expecting more.

Jack shook his head. “Doesn’t really matter what I think. It hurts, but life hurts, and only salesmen say otherwise.” He shrugged again, as if that could distract from the dead seriousness of what he said.

“It’s ‘life is pain’, Jack,” said Daniel, not knowing what to say and so humoring him.

“That movie got a lot of things right,” said Jack without expression, turning to leave the room. “See ya tomorrow, then, before you go?”

“Sure,” said Daniel.

ooooooo

Sam and Sha’re sat on the steps leading up to the Gate. The sun was high and bright, and the winds were low. Every so often Sha’re would sigh, and hold her belly close. They were just waiting for the scheduled time, so Kasuf would know they were not enemies.

“Jolinar told me that they modified the personal shield,” said Sam, breaking the silence. “It will shield us both, if necessary.”

“Why would it be necessary?” asked Sha’re, shifting slightly so that she could look at Sam.

“Who knows,” said Sam, shrugging. “I don’t think you’re in any danger, but I have this feeling that the SGC has ordered that I be stunned on sight.”

There was a pause. “Ooh, why did my son not come sooner?” moaned Sha’re. “He has been almost ready for the past week, with false signs and all, but he has not come. Why will he not make up his mind?”

“We’ll be fine,” assured Sam.

Sha’re winced.

“What have you decided to call him?” asked Sam, hoping to distract Sha’re from the discomfort of a long pregnancy.

“Shifu,” said Sha’re.

“That’s nice,” said Sam, smiling. “It sounds—quiet, and peaceful.”

“It was not a good choice,” said Sha’re, wrapping her arms around where Shifu was protesting. “He has a powerful will to live and be free, even though he cannot make up his mind. I will be very pleased when this is over.”

They fell silent again, fidgeting a little in the warm sunlight as they waited. It had been thought best by all parties that Sam and Sha’re should go a day early, to prepare and so that there was no chance they would miss Daniel’s arrival. The only thing that had not been discussed was what should happen if Daniel believed them. Sha’re was not freed yet, and would have to return to the Tok’ra, and Sam also could not leave. This was just to begin negotiations, open the door, so was the assumption. Sam hoped they could convince Daniel to come back here with them, so he could see it all for himself, but she had no idea what ideas he had come up with since they had parted.

She glanced over to Sha’re, who once again was breathing steadily through a contraction. “You’ll be all right?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Sha’re. “It is only every few minutes or so.”

Sam frowned. “Isn’t that a sign of pre-labor?”

Sha’re gave one long roll of her eyes. “If only, Sa’m, if only. I have been troubled for several days now with such signs, leading to nothing. And they may go on for days yet.”

“Well, just to be safe, we’ll try to keep this short,” said Sam, a little worried but accepting Sha’re’s word.

A few more minutes passed, and Sam grew even more fidgety. It was almost over, this waiting, and soon there would be even more waiting on the other side of the gate.

“Oh,” said Sha’re, her face pained. “Oh, they are worse this morning.”

Sam looked to her again, face worried.

Then, all in a moment, Sha’re doubled over and began trembling. “Sha’re!” said Sam, brow furrowing, rushing over to her side.

“Amonet,” Sha’re gasped, her whole body shaking, a little foam starting up at the corner of her mouth. She closed her eyes and continued shaking.

“Oh god, not this, not now,” murmured Sam, worry filling her heart. She reached for her communicator. “I need help, now! Sha’re has gone into convulsions, and I think Amonet may be rebelling.” Concern all that was in her heart, she held the shaking unconscious woman close to her, rocking back and forth as she waited for the Tok’ra. “This is not happening,” she muttered.

~Why would Amonet choose now?~ Sam asked Jolinar. ~And I thought she was subdued.~

*We have never tried to subdue a symbiote for so long,* said Jolinar, not as steady as usually. *And if she suspected that the baby was being born...perhaps she has finally decided her plan is not worth it, and she must try to use both these lives as bargaining chips.*

The Tok’ra came running from behind the hill, and in a few moments they had ringed down and were on their way to the Tok’ra infirmary, all talking all at once and trying to get the right information. Some were trying to get her on a stretcher, another scrambled for various devices, still another was checking her airway and vital signs, and all were passing on the information in Goa’uld that she could not understand. In a few moments, they were in the infirmary and Sha’re was being moved.

Sam was overwhelmed, and held back, watching as things seemed to grow worse. She sat down, wishing to bury her head in her hands, but unable to withdraw her gaze from the horrific scene. Sha’re was shaking violently, as four Tok’ra tried to hold her still so she wouldn’t hurt herself or anyone else. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, unseeing, and her breathing came in jolts. Then suddenly, she spoke, but it was not Sha’re:

“Free me, or they both die!”

Larys and Dorin, the other Tok’ra doctor, shared a look, and then Larys plunged a needle into Sha’re’s neck. “I think not,” he said. “Dorin?” He began gathering instruments and devices in a hurry.

“We need to clear the room,” said Dorin, speaking mostly to Sam. “Amonet will try to kill the child, so we must induce labor and hope that she will not kill the host instead. Time is of the essence.”

Sam nodded, unable to speak, and let herself be ushered out of the room. Sitting outside the door, Jolinar silently trying to provide moral support, she waited. There was no window, no observation room, and not even sounds could be heard. She was in the dark both literally and figuratively. A few minutes later and Martouf and Lantash joined her, having come with all the speed they could. Sitting down next to her, they said nothing but put an arm on her shoulder. Accepting the comfort, Sam leaned on theirs.

“I thought we had planned for everything,” she said after a moment. “I thought luck was going to be on our side.”

“Maybe it still is,” said Martouf quietly.

“I thought that before, but every step seems to prove that thought false,” she said.

“You found Sha’re and made it safely here, did you not?” asked Martouf.

“Yes, well maybe it was some elaborate plan to build up my hope so it could all crash down,” muttered Sam.

Martouf squeezed her shoulder gently. “Larys and Dorin are the best we have to offer, and they are determined to save both lives. I do not believe today will end in tragedy.”

“And tomorrow? How can I go alone?” said Sam. “How can I face—”

“Don’t worry about tomorrow,” said Martouf. “Come, you should eat or drink something, you look very pale.”

“I want to stay here,” said Sam, resolutely.

“Very well,” said Martouf, shifting his arm and standing up. “I will bring you something, then.”

Sitting alone, Sam stared at the crystals on the tunnel wall, and felt their contours beneath her fingers on the bench where she sat, overanalyzing their simplicity in a vain attempt to focus.  When Martouf brought back a warm tea-like drink a little later, she didn’t feel better, but at least it gave her something mundane to do and so she was grateful. Jolinar wasn’t speaking and neither was Martouf, and Sam didn’t know if she was frustrated or appreciative with them both. Martouf eventually left to inform Kasuf of a delay, keeping the details secret for the time. But whatever was going on behind those closed doors, it was urgent enough that no one sent any word in three hours.

Sam had started to feel guilty just as she realized she had not worried like this for Sha’re all those times when she was a prisoner of the Goa’uld, and now was in this position only because of Sam. To be sure, it was to save Sha’re and Shifu from the Goa’uld, but if they both died—or worse, if only Shifu died—would Sha’re not feel at least the same guilt that Sam would? She held onto Martouf, willing herself not to think of all that was going wrong. Sha’re would survive, Shifu would survive, they would make it home, it would all work out.

Finally, after Sam had dozed off and the next few hours had flown by, the door opened and Dorin came out. Sam jerked awake and rose to meet her.

“The situation is very grave, but under control,” she said quietly. “We induced Sha’re’s labor, but the stress her body was under made it a very difficult process, and it required a great deal of help. Amonet made a last stand and tried to poison them both, and we had to hastily remove her without much sedation. We think she developed a significant tolerance to it over the past weeks. Currently, the child is under intensive care at the moment, and so is Sha’re, but the odds of their healthy survival are too ever-changing to determine. I must return immediately.”

She did not wait for an answer, but moved to leave.

“Wait,” said Sam, stretching out her hand. “Thank you.”

Dorin nodded once, and quickly returned into the infirmary.

Sam sat back down with a long sigh, and put her face in her hands. “God,” she murmured.

It was still going to be a long wait through that day.

ooooooo

From a deep recess in his lab, Daniel had unearthed his old Abydonian robes. Despite his instincts, he had not touched or cleaned them since the day he returned, and it was unfortunately obvious. Abydos had always signified something more tangible and real than his old world, and he hadn’t wanted to sully it with the sharp scent of laundry detergent, or even the absence of scent from dry cleaning. Besides, how was he going to explain that to the dry cleaning lady?

No, for a moment, Daniel buried himself in the pungent scent—full of sand, oils, spices, and simply-made soap. He could even imagine, closing his eyes, that he could sense Sha’re. But it was imagination only, and he didn’t want to think on that scene. It would be nice to wear these robes once again, and he added, sobering, to remind him of all that he and Sha’re had fought for.

“Hey there, that looks interesting,” said Dave Dixon, walking past the lab and halting. “That’s from Abydos, right?”

“Yes,” said Daniel, looking at his teammate. “I’ll be wearing it tomorrow, and I thought it should air out a little.”

“Do I want to know why that’s so important?” asked Dixon.

Daniel shook his head with a slight, weary smile. “You’re out of uniform,” he commented.

“Yes, I am,” said Dixon with a smile, leaning against the doorframe. “Colonel O’Neill authorized my day off, and I’m off to see the wife and ankle-biters.”

“I still haven’t met your family,” said Daniel, letting the robes hang limply in his hands. “How many kids do you have?”

“Three,” said Dixon with a slight flinch. “But you don’t want to see them—all whining and drooling and jumping on the furniture.”

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t mind. Maybe we should get the team together sometime.”


“You all don’t have families though,” said Dixon frowning, “so wouldn’t that be—uncomfortable? And can Teal’c come off base?”

“I think you’d be surprised,” said Daniel to the first question. “I don’t know about Teal’c; I’ll have to give it more thought.”

“I’m not sure if my family deserves to be subjected to McKay, though, to be honest,” said Dixon, his arms lightly crossing across his chest. “What’s he doing tomorrow anyway?”

“Back to his old haunting grounds, so I hear,” said Daniel, laying the robes out on his desk now since the magic had come and gone. “Research and development.”

“Cool,” said Dixon without inflection. “I guess I’ll see you in a couple days then, right? Colonel O’Neill will kill me if you get into trouble and I wasn’t there, so keep sharp!”

“Right,” said Daniel. “Keep sharp for the people who’ve been waiting anxiously for my return...I may have poor news, but there’s no danger, really.”

“Well, with two members, this is an SG-1 mission, and you know what that means,” said Dixon with a significant look, lightly tapping the doorframe as he stood up straight again.

“I’ll be fine,” said Daniel, nodding.

Dixon gave him a half smile, then continued on his way.

Daniel was alone again, but it wasn’t such a melancholy alone-ness now—Daniel liked Dixon because he made everything practical without descending to the depths of Jack’s cynicism. Those two were similar, but Dixon had enough cheer in his life to keep him from the bitterness. Daniel understood Jack and liked him when thing were going well, but he preferred Dixon when things started going south. And especially when that meant that Jack was stuck with Rodney...not that Daniel was evil or anything, but as his two most frustrating teammates, he appreciated that they spent many of their irritant times on each other instead of him.

But now, Dixon’s mere presence had reminded him that this wasn’t a final farewell, and there was no need yet to get mournful. He gave a fond smile, and smoothed out a wrinkle on his robes. He’d leave work early today, to clear his mind as much as possible of the mission tomorrow—maybe think about talking to Mrs. Dixon about a team get-together.

ooooooo

Sam had no such calm presence of mind. Since Dorin’s first and only report, almost three more hours had wasted by and had she been less weary, she might have started to go mad. While Martouf had been content for a long time to sit by her and be silent support, Lantash eventually grew fed up and came forth. Telling Sam firmly that she was doing no one good, he demanded that she go to someplace else to wait, preferably the mess hall so that she could eat and renew her strength. At that point Jolinar had also finally weighed in with her own support of that plan, and before Sam knew it she was sitting with a plateful of food. She nibbled at it for some time, eventually clearing most of the plate, and tried to rest her mind from the constant wearying. Had she not fallen asleep earlier, she would have welcomed some rest now—emotional weariness was even worse than physical.

“You know what really frustrates me,” she finally burst out, surprising Martouf into sudden alertness.

“Feeling a little better?” he asked.

Sam had to admit her mind was feeling sharper after the food, but not out loud. “No. This base, it holds hundreds of Tok’ra, right?”

Martouf nodded.

“Then why don’t they communicate and interact like a town?” asked Sam, glancing around the room at the various figures, coming and going with trays and dishes and objects related to their work. “One of their ‘guests’ is dying as we speak, and not one of them seems to have noticed. And before all this, I only met a few face to face, and many of the meetings were of my or Jolinar’s initiation.”

“Do you feel abandoned?” asked Martouf, concerned.

“I don’t know,” said Sam. “It’s just—maybe I was expecting too much.” She poked at the rest of her food with the usual two-pronged fork.

“Has not Jolinar taught you that we are a reserved people?” said Martouf, smiling comfortingly. “We have such a long time in this universe that personal matters can be readily pushed to the side for urgent business, and there is much urgent business going on. Trust me, they are all worried for Sha’re’s plight, those that know, but do not think it a proper use of their time to commiserate. Were you to stay longer, you might come to see the logic behind this.”

Sam sighed, but it wasn’t in frustration. Not entirely. She added after a moment, “Speaking of Jolinar...I am not sure she hears me now. Am I so irritating to her?”

“Oh no,” said Martouf, his brow creasing. “Oh no, Samantha, it is not you. Our Jolinar rarely grieves or shows worry openly; if she knows it will be hard on her, she withdraws. I would also suspect she has grown attached to Sha’re through you, and that she is still feeling the loss of our Rosha as well.”

“Oh,” said Sam, mollified. “I see.” The mess hall had been specifically designed to muffle sound, but it had never been so quiet as now, when the day had worn on and there were only a couple others still in it. The artificial lighting had been softened, leaving mostly the natural glow of the crystal structure.

“Samantha?”

Sam jumped a little at the voice directly behind her, and then again to turn and see if it was Dorin. It was.

“The worst is over,” said Dorin with a weary content on her face, standing with shoulders a little more hunched than most of the dignified Tok’ra ever allowed.

Sam exhaled slowly, and brushed a hand through her hair in relief.

“Sha’re is very weak, and is unconscious at the moment,” continued Dorin. “But though her vitals are weak, she is responding if but slowly to our healing. Her child, as well, is doing better—he has a strong spirit for life.”

“And Amonet?” asked Sam.

“We are certain that there is nothing left of her,” said Dorin firmly. “Nothing but memories, and that we cannot help.”

“May I see them?” asked Sam, standing up anxiously.

“I do not think that would be wise,” said Dorin with a slight frown, putting out a hand. “Sha’re does not appear well at all, and you have a mission tomorrow that should be undertaken with the utmost confidence. I would not want that thought in your mind as you strove to negotiate.”

Sam looked pained, but gave a short nod. “You’ll keep me in the loop if there’s any further development?”

“Of course,” said Dorin. “You are, as far as the Tok’ra are concerned, her next of kin. But there should be nothing but improvement from henceforth.” She bowed to Sam, and then gave a look to Martouf before exiting the room.

“That did me good to hear,” said Sam with a breathy, relieved laugh, taking her seat again.

“I am very glad for all of you,” said Martouf, touching her hand gently. “I do not know how difficult it would have been had anything else befallen.”

“But she was right, I have to think about Daniel and Kasuf,” said Sam, growing very serious again, her face darkly thoughtful. “I know Kasuf will support me, but I will have nothing for Daniel—I cannot say anything he would believe, and he wouldn’t come here to see it for himself.”

“Would my presence help in any way?” asked Martouf.

“No, I don’t think so,” said Sam. “He’d only think you were somehow controlling or influencing me, which he may think anyway. But if I go alone, if Kasuf is there to swear that Sha’re was willingly in my company, that may be enough.” She sighed again. “It’s just going to be ten times more difficult.”

“We have the greatest trust in you,” said Martouf, smiling again. “And I am sure that Jolinar will be there to support you fully.”

*Of course,* came Jolinar’s sound, half sulky.

Sam’s heart quickened a little. ~You’re all right, then?~

*I am now,* said Jolinar. *But I was not so far gone before.*

“She is back?” guessed Martouf from Sam’s face.

“Yes,” said Sam. “Things are coming back together.”

*We shall continue with our plan, then,* said Jolinar.

“When is Kasuf scheduled to report in?” asked Sam.

“We are to dial him,” said Martouf. “He will keep the gate ready until we arrive, or until tomorrow’s dawn.”

“And I will tell him the truth,” said Sam, just a little weariness in her tone again.

Martouf nodded, and then they were saying farewells again. Only this time, there was just a little less confidence, and an unspoken acknowledgment that they might not all come out of it alive. Things might be calming after the sudden violent splashes in the pond, but no one failed to see the continuing ripples, and no one could forget that it could happen again without warning. There was still some hope—just a more cautious one.

By the time Sam was through the gate and on Abydos, it was near nightfall. She was tense, as she had expected she would be, only now it was for what was before her and what was left behind. She prayed that she would not receive an emergency dial from the Tok’ra.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 - Struggles

Daniel straightened the loose robe one last time, then looked to Teal’c. “You ready?”

“I am indeed,” said Teal’c, lowering his head.

“Dial it up, then,” said Daniel. He and Teal’c descended to the gate room, alone except for the techs. Jack and Hammond were already in or near Washington by now, Dixon was on leave, and McKay was in some deep dark corner of the base fiddling with a device that might (but probably wouldn’t, so he said) destroy the whole world. It didn’t really matter to Daniel.

After the kawoosh, Daniel and Teal’c stepped through to the Abydos gate room. Kasuf was waiting, as Daniel knew he would be.

“Good father,” Daniel said, coming forward with hands clasped in a humble position. He bowed, and indicated Teal’c. “Do not be afraid, this is Teal’c.”

Kasuf did not appear surprised, and shared a few words with Teal’c, before turning back to Daniel. He was surprisingly unquestioning.

“Good father,” said Daniel finally, “I must ask your forgiveness for not returning with your daughter.”

“So I see,” said Kasuf, again without surprise or disappointment.

“I fear that I will be searching for many more seasons,” finished Daniel.

Kasuf nodded once, then beckoned to them both. “Come.”

Daniel frowned, wondering at all this strangeness but following without question. Teal’c showed no emotion on his face, not indicating if he could read Daniel’s, but probably prepared all the same. There was a short walk that Daniel remembered quite clearly, through the gorgeous sand and homey village. Everyone knew why he was there, but though no one approached him they all looked up as he passed with friendly faces. He missed this.

They finally reached Kasuf’s tent.

“Here,” said Kasuf, pulling aside the door and letting Daniel and Teal’c enter first.

Frowning still, Daniel ducked his head and stepped in. Looking up, eyes trying to adjust to the dimmer light, it took him a moment to take things in.

“Hello, Daniel,” said Sam a small smile on her face.

Daniel jumped back in shock, and only a second passed before Teal’c fired his zat. Sam was standing on the opposite side of the tent in simple light tan, but the zat fire bounced off the golden column of a Goa’uld personal shield. She winced.

“I knew you would do that,” she said, mouth twisting, smile disappearing.

“How did—Teal’c? Good father?” Daniel didn’t know what he was trying to say.

“She is still possessed by a Goa’uld,” said Teal’c, his zat still raised as he stood just behind Daniel’s right shoulder.

“Do not be so hasty, my son!” said Kasuf, following them in and putting a hand on Daniel’s left arm.

“Good father, she is no longer a friend to be trusted,” said Daniel, and he could see that the words hurt Sam as much as he to say. “She is demon-possessed.”

“Nay, but she can still be trusted,” said Kasuf, though glancing quickly to Sam. “You will see, if you put your weapon away.” He waved a hand to Teal’c, who did not respond.

“Good father, let me deal with this,” said Daniel. The shock at seeing Sam here had not quite worn off, but he could think. “So, Jolinar, you can convince my good father,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Jolinar isn’t speaking right now,” said Sam, stepping forward, her hands spread out. “And neither did she convince Kasuf. She has been much more cooperative than you would think.”

“So you’re trying to say that you’re really Sam,” said Daniel, meeting her gaze. “Why should I believe you?”

Sam gave a painful smile, more to herself than to Daniel. “That’s the rub, isn’t it. See, I was going to have proof for you, as close to proof as I could get, but my luck hasn’t been so good.”

“Just out of curiosity, what proof?” asked Daniel. He glanced to one side, and saw that Teal’c had barely moved a muscle. The tent was large, with plenty of room to separate them sufficiently for caution’s sake, and so Teal’c did not move.

“Sha’re,” said Sam simply.

Daniel had a little jolt, and he shook it off briefly. “What?”

“Sha’re, your wife,” said Sam, looking straight at him with eyes that were not soft. “I was going to bring her to you, so that you would know that the Tok’ra do not mean us harm.”

“That’s an ambitious tale,” said Daniel shortly.

“I know—hardly proof anymore,” said Sam.

“You—if it’s Sam or Jolinar, which I’m not sure—are still so sure about the Tok’ra,” said Daniel, glancing to Teal’c and to Kasuf before looking back to her. “But Jolinar promised to release Sam as soon as she could escape, and it’s been two months...”

“As I said, bad luck,” said Sam, slightly shifting. “Daniel, you have to believe me, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.”

“No, I’m sure of that,” said Daniel. “But what are you doing here now? What do you think is going to happen?”

There was a pause, and a breeze flapped the tent. “I’m just hoping you’ll be willing to negotiate with a supposed enemy,” Sam said. “I don’t have any other options right now.” She stood still, not shifting her weight or her steady gaze on Daniel.

Daniel watched her, looking in her eyes and wondering if he could learn anything from them. They looked softer than when Jolinar had been control at the SGC, but harder and sharper than Sam’s had been—and there might just be a hint of desperation there. But what did that tell him? Nothing useful.

“You came through the gate?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Sam.

“So I could call in reinforcements from the SGC and capture you here and now,” continued Daniel.

“You could call them in, yes,” said Sam. “But I didn’t come to offer myself up. I want to talk to you, not Hammond—or Jack,” she added.

“Why?” asked Daniel.

“Listen, Daniel, I have been gone for nearly two months, and almost every minute has been trying to get back home,” said Sam. “Jolinar and I have been searching for a willing host to take my place, and we still trust for success, but that means nothing if I can’t get to Earth.”

“We’re not letting you back free,” said Daniel.

“I know,” said Sam. “That’s another matter. But when the time comes, I need to know that I can contact you.”

“You want a GDO?” asked Daniel incredulously, his weight rolling back to the heels of his feet.

“No,” said Sam. “I’m not stupid, Daniel. I want a device with a unique radiation signature, and I want a scheduled planet where we can meet again. I choose the date, I send the message—that’s all, though.”

“So you have nothing else to say?” asked Daniel, thinking about what she had offered.

“Not under these circumstances,” said Sam grimly. “Just a promise that you won’t leave this situation to chance meetings.”

Kasuf had already quietly slipped out, apparently having heard all this before.

“We should contact the SGC immediately, DanielJackson,” said Teal’c.

“What about Sha’re?” said Daniel.

“Kasuf can vouch, she was here,” said Sam. “The Tok’ra and I worked together to find her, and she was going to come, both as proof of my trustability and to see you again.”

“So you say you’ve removed Amonet?” asked Daniel, his face revealing nothing about what he thought.

“Not at the time, no, but it is so now,” said Sam, slowly and painfully.

“What does that mean, and why is she not here?” demanded Daniel.

“Okay, Daniel, you want to know?” Sam snapped suddenly, taking a step forward despite Teal’c’s answering tenseness of his zat. “We had a beautiful plan, so Sha’re could see you again and help me convince you that I wasn’t the enemy. But Amonet didn’t go along. She and Apophis had planned to have a child using Sha’re, and Amonet had to be dormant for the pregnancy, so Sha’re was free to come with me. But just as we were ready to come here, Amonet decided to kill Sha’re and the child, and right now they’re still in critical condition on the Tok’ra home-world. Sorry.” She finished with a tart apology.

Daniel stood stricken, not wanting to believe, but not seeing why such a lie would be useful.

Sam seemed to melt back into something softer. “I’m sorry, Daniel,” she said, hesitating between stepping back and stepping closer. “I shouldn’t have said all that.”

“Is it true?” he asked, the hint of breaking in his voice as he still ran over the possibilities.

“Yes,” said Sam.

“She’s alive, though?” asked Daniel.

“Yes,” said Sam. “And her child. Amonet is dead as well.”

“Okay, I really need to contact the SGC now,” said Daniel, letting the arms that he had crossed as a sort of protection for himself fall to his side. “Teal’c?”

Teal’c nodded, taking one more step forward as Daniel left the tent.

“My son?” asked Kasuf as Daniel passed him. “Are you not convinced?”

“Not yet,” said Daniel, not looking back as he went to the gate room.

ooooooo

The ceremony was done, the real entertainment of eating, drinking, and mingling had begun. Jack was off somewhere brooding, and Hammond was making a much better face among the military types. It wasn’t as difficult for him, after living so many years with the idea that men were always lost, and so not forming personal attachments as much as he could. Jack—well, Jack got caught up on things a better military officer wouldn’t, but a better man might.

“Hey there, George,” came a voice familiar to Hammond, and he looked to see an old friend approaching out of the crowd.

“Jacob,” said Hammond, nodding. This could go terribly wrong...

“I haven’t seen you up here often,” said Jacob, smiling wide, a glass of champagne in his hand. “How are things in Colorado?”

“Classified,” said Hammond with an answering smile.

“But of course,” said Jacob. “And I am glad to have escaped from that all. How’s my daughter doing?”

Hammond said nothing, swallowing.

“What, has she said she doesn’t want speak to me?” asked Jacob.

“No,” said Hammond, frowning as he recognized the brewing trouble.

“She’s still working there, right?” continued Jacob. “Deep space radar telemetry? She told me once a while back.”

“Jacob, we need to talk privately,” said Hammond in a low tone, nodding his head towards the edge of the room.

“Oh,” said Jacob, face darkening. “All right, then.”

ooooooo

“So Teal’c,” said Sam after Daniel was gone. The space between them was the same, just long enough that she couldn’t jump him but not so far that he couldn’t have perfect aim. “Do you believe me?”

“I am without sufficient evidence to make a decision,” said Teal’c, his head tilting to one side.

Sam shifted her weight finally, crossing her arms in front of her. “I see.”

“You do not speak as I would imagine Jolinar of Malkshur would, if she was trying to imitate CaptainCarter,” continued Teal’c. “Nor are your demands entirely full of risk for Earth.”

“Glad you noticed,” said Sam with a forced smile.

“I do not believe DanielJackson or your superiors at Stargate Command will have even as much surety,” said Teal’c.

“Maybe not,” said Sam. “But some kind of compromise would be better for them, no matter if I am truthful or not.”

“Indeed,” said Teal’c. “But it is possible that your military may not be entirely logical.”

“It is,” Sam acknowledged coolly.

ooooooo

“What do you mean, she’s missing?” demanded Jacob, pressing into the space between him and Hammond where they now stood in a darker and otherwise vacant room. “How could she disappear—and why wasn’t her family informed?”

“She didn’t go of her own accord,” said Hammond steadily. “And she had no instructions concerning situations such as these.”

“Are you saying she was kidnapped?” asked Jacob, catching Hammond’s eye. “My god, my little Sam? George, why isn’t this a high priority case? Why don’t I know about it?”

“It’s highly classified,” said Hammond. “It was thought best that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t ask questions that I couldn’t answer.”

“Bull,” said Jacob bluntly. “Where was she taken, and by whom? Are you combing the area for her?”

“We don’t know where she was taken,” said Hammond, a little carefully.

“But you know who took her?” said Jacob, following. “And you can’t follow them?”

“We don’t know their base location,” said Hammond.

“Damn, you people are supposed to be the best,” said Jacob, flinging his hand out in frustration, just the way Sam did. “I don’t believe this—there’s something more that you aren’t telling me.”

“Yes, and no,” said Hammond. “What I told you was not a cover-up.”

“But the context is missing,” Jacob finished the unspoken thought. He sighed, rubbing the top of his head absently. “Any way you could get me clearance?” he asked, almost desperately.


“I’m sorry, Jacob, but that’s unlikely,” said Hammond, as sympathetically as he could.

Jacob’s face went dark, and looked older than ever, long deep lines catching the shadows where they stood. “She’s the only kid who will still speak to me,” he said. “And I had news for her.”

“What was it?” asked Hammond, trying to be supportive of his friend.

“I was going to get her into NASA,” said Jacob, a sad half-smile on his face.

Hammond said nothing, speechless for the moment.

“But George, it wasn’t just good news,” Jacob continued. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I have cancer.”

“No,” protested Hammond.

“It’s lymphoma, and it doesn’t look good,” said Jacob, a pained expression on his face. “I wasn’t going to tell her like this, but they’re pretty sure it’s terminal, and it’s growing fast.”

“Jacob, I’m so sorry,” said Hammond with a sympathetic shake of his head.

“You find my little girl,” said Jacob sharply. “I’m not going to die without seeing her again, George.”

Hammond opened his mouth to speak, but his phone rang then. Looking at the number, he sent an apologetic look to Jacob and took it, stepping to the side. “Hammond speaking.”

Jacob just watched, swallowing every so often as he seemed to digest what Hammond told him.

“I’ll be right there,” Hammond finished, closing the phone.

“Urgent matters in NORAD?” asked Jacob, just a hint of sarcasm.

“I’m sorry, I can’t say,” said Hammond. “Just—it could be good news for you, Jacob.”

“Sam?” asked Jacob.

“I can’t say,” said Hammond, nodding back as he walked off to find Jack. “Good luck, Jacob.”

“You too,” said Jacob.

ooooooo

“It’s good to finally hear you, sir,” said Daniel, listening to the radio that was conveying Hammond’s phone conversation.

“What is the situation, Dr. Jackson,” came Hammond’s voice, faint and static-y.

“Well, that’s a good question,” said Daniel. He frowned. “Sam—or Jolinar—wants a way to contact us.”

“Who do you think is negotiating?” asked Hammond.

“I’m not sure, but I might say it really is Sam,” said Daniel carefully. “She lost her temper for a moment, but it was pure Sam, not the way Jolinar acted.”

“So you think she’s been compromised by Jolinar?” asked Hammond.

“It’s likely,” said Daniel, brow creased.

“Why should we not capture her, Dr. Jackson?”

“And do what, sir?” asked Daniel. “If we keep our options open, we might learn and accomplish something.”

“Or make a terrible mistake.”

“Her plan is not any more dangerous than any of our usual alliances,” said Daniel. “There’s always a possibility of disaster.”

There was a minute of silence, but Daniel had nothing further to say. He tapped the side of the radio with his finger, frowning and hoping that Jolinar was not enacting some evil scheme. However confident he had sounded, there was that pessimistic side that wondered if he only thought Sam was there because he hoped so. He had always been suspicious about the assumption that Jolinar was a Goa’uld—he just didn’t know what she was.

Finally, there was a buzz of static.

“Whoever is speaking, they are certainly aware of what plan would be most agreeable.” said Hammond.

“So we’re considering it?” asked Daniel, just a little surprised.

“It is the best current option,” said Hammond. “And there is another reason to keep in contact—I was just speaking to Captain Carter’s father, and he has cancer.”

“Oh,” said Daniel, caught off guard. “That’s—that’s terrible.” He felt a sudden resurgence of all the sympathy he had felt for Sam when this all started.

“Yes, it is,” said Hammond. “Perhaps that knowledge will remind Captain Carter of who she is, if she has been compromised. Do not tell her yet, though, just say that we will agree with her plan.”

“Shouldn’t she know?” asked Daniel, concerned.

“Let us see what she does when she is unaware, first,” said Hammond.

Daniel sighed as Hammond hung up. The simplicity was gone. Sam had been lost, and all they had to do was find her, subdue her, and remove Jolinar—at least, that was the plan. But they couldn’t do that anymore, not without risking something, because things had gotten too strange and complicated. It was now a delicate balancing of power and secrecy, with the hint of a double or triple cross.

ooooooo

*Well?* asked Jolinar.

~It could be a lot worse,~ said Sam. ~I don’t think they’re going to try to trick me.~

*If they do, I have your permission to stun them all?* asked Jolinar darkly.

~Yes,~ said Sam. ~I can’t let them get us, not just because they wouldn’t let us free until you were dead, but because they’d never believe that Sha’re was out there.~

*Understood,* said Jolinar. *If, by chance, they agree to your terms, what is your plan?*

~Nothing,~ said Sam. ~This is just to stall.~

*That is what I suspected,* said Jolinar.

~Actually, even now I’m not sure if this would have been different with Sha’re,~ Sam sighed. ~Maybe we could have negotiated her return, and an alliance with the Tok’ra, but my situation would still have had to be on hold.~

Their conversation stopped as Daniel reentered the tent. Teal’c, who had taken a seat at Kasuf and Sam’s urging, though never lowering his weapon, stood up to meet him.

“Anything happen?” asked Daniel.

“Nothing,” said Teal’c.

“Teal’c mentioned what happened to SG-1,” said Sam. She looked Daniel straight in the eye.

“Did he?” said Daniel, after a moment of fumbling for words. We didn’t forget you, he wanted to say, or, Life has to go on—but one was too soft, and the other too hard.

“Did you speak to the General?” Sam continued.

“Yes, I did,” said Daniel.

“I assume the Colonel had feelings on the matter, too,” said Sam with a sigh.

“He wasn’t consulted, actually,” said Daniel.

Sam raised her eyebrows. “Possibly for the best,” she muttered. “Well?”

Daniel took a small sphere from his pocket. “McKay’s been working on these.” He tossed it to Sam.

She looked surprised and maybe a little hurt that he didn’t step closer to her to hand it, but then looked at the sphere. “This was one of my projects, one of the ones I didn’t have time to finish.”

“McKay has...different...priorities,” said Daniel. “General Hammond agrees to your terms, that we stay in contact only. You can send us the signal as soon as you think you can convince us that you are free of your symbiote, or in three weeks, whichever comes first. At three weeks, we will meet on M4D-495—the address is attached to the sphere. If we need to contact you for any reason, we will leave a signal on the moon near the gate.”

“A proper set-up, then,” said Sam.

“It’s not that we don’t suspect a trick still,” warned Daniel.

“Right,” said Sam. She pocketed the device, then stood there. “We’re finished then.”

Daniel eyed her, not moving from his spot either. “Are you really Sam?” he asked.

“Does it matter, Daniel?” sighed Sam. “I can’t prove it.”

“No, that’s not what I’m asking,” said Daniel. He stepped forward, barely. “If you’re Jolinar, you’ve had two months to force yourself through Sam’s mind and see her memories. Sam wouldn’t be so cold and businesslike about this, you’d know that. And we saw your intelligence back on the base. You wouldn’t mess up now. So maybe you’re really Sam talking, making the mistakes.” He stopped, looked down and then back up. “Except it’s not a mistake, you aren’t really Sam anymore.”

“What?” asked Sam with a shaky laugh. “Daniel, I told you, this isn’t the way I planned for this to go.”

“No, but you’re improvising,” said Daniel. “You’re good at that.”

“Daniel, stop it,” said Sam, a pain in her throat as if a lump was forming.

“I’m just asking the question, Sam,” said Daniel, and even his calling of her name didn’t give Sam hope. “You’re not the same.”

“Daniel,” said Sam, her voice just a tad shaky and harsh, “you try acting the exact same way after you’re dragged to another world, immersed in another culture and had to behave like one of them, and then have to negotiate for your own survival with your friends after another one was on her deathbed only a few hours ago!”

“I know, you would have to adapt,” said Daniel. He lowered his eyes again for a moment, then looked back straight into Sam’s. “It’s just—can you adapt back? I’m not the only one who will want to know.”

“I’m fine, Daniel, and I will be fine,” said Sam firmly.

“Well, that’s Sam at the least,” said Daniel, ending on an attempt to be light. He sighed. “And, you say Sha’re is free?”

“I promise you, Daniel, she’s going to be fine,” said Sam.

“We’ll see,” said Daniel, tight-mouthed. He nodded shortly, then turned and walked out of the tent.

To Sam’s relief, Teal’c lowered his eyes and gave a farewell bow, and then turned his back on her to follow Daniel. He didn’t have to say anything.

Sam felt that it was about time to sleep again. After all the stress, all the worry, all the waiting, and all the ups and downs of today’s short encounter, she was truly ready to break down. ~I don’t think I can take anymore today,~ she told Jolinar, as if the symbiote needed to actually have it spoken.

*We may stay the night here, and return home tomorrow,* agreed Jolinar. *We were successful, at the least.*

~Yeah,~ said Sam, her emotions all spent. ~Great.~

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 - Distance

“You did what?” demanded Jack, face furious and yet not frightening Daniel.

“Jack, think about it for a moment first,” warned Daniel, standing toe to toe with him. McKay stood off to his left, apparently trying to blend into the background; Teal’c was on his right. He knew Hammond had told Jack something, and he assumed he hadn’t blown up in the general’s face—hence he was Jack’s scapegoat for this.

“I don’t have to think about anything!” declared Jack, his hands gesturing violently towards Daniel. “In fact, I rarely do! You’re going to tell me what exactly happened on that planet, and you’re going to use small words that mean something and not big vague ones that make it seem like you’re talking about institutions and not people!”

“No, no, I’m not,” said Daniel, voice calm and intended to prickle Jack. “I didn’t do anything, Jack.”

“No, you’re right about that,” said Jack. Then he turned to Teal’c. “But you, you had the zat!”

“In hindsight, it would not have been wise to shoot Captain Carter, even had it been possible,” said Teal’c.

“Damn it, that’s why you shouldn’t have been allowed to do this,” said Jack, his whole body reacting in his anger and near-disgust. “You believed it! Carter was taken by a Goa’uld, and all you could do was negotiate with it?”

“Come on, Jack,” Daniel tried to persuade.

“Don’t ‘come on, Jack,’ me Daniel!” said Jack. “If I was in your position, what do you think I’d do?”

“You’d have captured her,” said Daniel with a sigh.

“Damn right!” said Jack. “I’d have knocked that bastard to the ground and brought my team member home safe, and to hell with diplomacy and strategy!”

“And if you weren’t sure it was a Goa’uld?” asked Daniel.

“Could Teal’c sense it?” countered Jack.

Teal’c nodded.

“Goa’uld it is,” said Jack.

“You’re that closed off to any other possibility?” asked Daniel, but he felt he knew the answer.

“What would it have hurt?” asked Jack. “Daniel, what would it have hurt?”

“Oh,” said Daniel, fumbling just a little in his growing frustration, “oh, well, I don’t know, our relations with a possible new race? Our chance at learning more about the universe, about the Goa’uld at least? At worst, learning a new Goa’uld strategy?”

“We’d have Sam back,” muttered Jack.

“We still will,” said Daniel.

Jack was standing close, eyes everywhere but on Daniel, hands fidgeting. He then gave him a glance to remind him of how that wasn’t a sure thing yet, and turned to leave the room.

“Great, now he’ll be off for days,” muttered McKay.

Daniel turned wearily to the scientist.

“Sorry,” said McKay quickly. “It’s just—this is a good thing, why get upset about it?”

“You didn’t know Sam,” said Daniel.


“What does that have to do with anything?” asked McKay.

“Think about it for a while,” said Daniel, walking off in another direction. He could be as logical as possible with Jack, because he had to, but the fact was that until Sam was back and safe with them they’d all be a little upset.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar didn’t see Martouf or Lantash when they returned to the Tok’ra home-world the next morning, and Sam at least was glad. She had been vaguely satisfied with the mission until Daniel had gone and shown his true colors. In her deepest doubts she might have suspected they’d think that, but so much that it could be vocalized? It was much stronger resistance than she imagined. And worst of all, she wasn’t sure she could dismiss it.

*I assure you, your opinions are all that has changed,* said Jolinar. *I should have noticed anything else.*

Sam said nothing for the moment. Then, ~Don’t our opinions make us who we are?~

*You would like to recant on some of them, then? Keep the previous status quo?*

~Oh, don’t be so sarcastic,~ sighed Sam.

*I’m just wondering what you’re upset about. The possibility you’ve changed, or the fact that others have noticed it?*

~I haven’t changed, not enough to make a difference,~ said Sam. ~But my opinions on you, on the Tok’ra in general...they’ll appear like more substantial changes to people who haven’t lived the evidence for them.~

*True,* acknowledged Jolinar. *So endure your people until they are convinced.*

~You like making everything sound simple,~ said Sam.

The Council did not demand a full report, so after Jolinar conveyed what had been arranged, they were free to go. And as Sam was anxious to see Sha’re, they went without further conversation to the infirmary. Dorin was not there, but Larys stood by an observation window, and beckoned them closer.

“She was well enough to move here,” he said. “But she has still not woken.”

Sam looked into the room, but first noticed how Sha’re’s face was almost translucent and colorless—and forgot all about Daniel. “And this is better?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Larys. “She is no longer actively fighting the poison Amonet put in her system, just recovering from that battle.”

“What about Shifu?” asked Sam, looking and not seeing the child anywhere.

“Ah, now there I have better news,” said Larys with a smile. “Come, I will show you.”

He led Sam into the infirmary but not to Sha’re. In a nearby room, though, wrapped in soft blankets under warm lights, lay the child that could only be hers. He was tiny and blotchy-faced, but healthily pink beneath the soft golden brown tones of his skin and with a contented look, one thumb poking out from the top of the blanket to be rhythmically suckled.

“Oh,” said Sam, without further words, hands that had been tight at her side relaxing.

“Thankfully, we were able to birth him before Amonet’s poison had fully spread,” said Larys. “A few hours struggle, and our healing powers, and he was quickly as you see now.”

Sam let herself smile, stepping forward to brush the dark fuzz on the baby’s head. “This is very good indeed,” she said.

Shifu’s eyes opened, dark and wide like Sha’re’s but the expression could have been Daniel’s. Sam smiled again, for herself since the child could not see her at this distance, because even though Daniel had not contributed to his birth, this was clearly his child. Or would be, once they met.

“We are only waiting on his mother to wake,” said Larys, rubbing his hands together absentmindedly. “And your mission? Will they be leaving us soon?”

“No,” said Sam, turning back to the Tok’ra. “Not for another three weeks at least.”

“Good, for I would have been hard pressed to allow it any sooner,” said Larys.

“When do you think she’ll wake?” asked Sam, leaving Shifu’s room to walk back to see Sha’re again.

“Oh, any day now,” said Larys as he followed her.

Sam drew near to Sha’re’s side and watched her chest rise slightly with each breath. There were small sensors on various parts of her skin, but thankfully no tubes or cords, so that she could have been seen as sleeping instead of recovering. No beeping equipment either—that was something positive to be said for the atmosphere of a Tok’ra infirmary. Sam reached out to touch Sha’re’s pale hand, and felt a small surge of relief when it was of normal warmth despite the color.

“You’ll let me know when she wakes?” Sam asked.

Larys nodded.

Satisfied with this, and with nothing further to do here, they left.

*I’m glad for this,* said Jolinar finally.


Sam was surprised, for Jolinar had stayed relatively silent around Sha’re before. ~Why?~ she asked curiously.

*Why not?* asked Jolinar back. *I may pull back, but I do not disappear. I know her well by now.*

Sam thought for a moment, remembering what Martouf had said when Jolinar was hidden away. ~You know a lot of me by now,~ she then said, changing the subject slightly. ~How is that going to work when we separate?~

Jolinar paused. *I had not thought of that. This is such a strange situation...*

Sam smiled. ~I can see you meeting Daniel or Jack and scaring them with what you’ve picked up from me.~

*You are not equally scared by my knowledge?* asked Jolinar, a little playfully.

~Oh, I trust you not to misuse it,~ said Sam. She paused. ~Should I?~

*After all you have sacrificed for others, I would not dream of taking advantage of you,* said Jolinar firmly. *You will be well remembered, I assure you.*

~Not exactly the legacy I was going for,~ said Sam.

Jolinar grinned at her, taking control as they reached her chamber. Grabbing a more comfortable and less sand-logged outfit, she made her way to the baths for a relaxing soak. Luckily for Sam, there weren’t many Tok’ra there that morning, and if any more had shown up later she wouldn’t have known, eyes closed to better absorb the comfort. She’d realized one way she and Jolinar were alike, in that they could not relax until it came naturally. It would have been better to do this before they left, to ease the tension, not after all fears had been assuaged and tension was leaving on its own. Not exactly the healthiest stress management, and yet they shared it.

Jolinar had no desires beyond the bath, but Sam had thought of something in it to distract her from yesterday. Returning to their chamber, she retrieved the sphere that Daniel had given her and made her way to Reyfa’s science lab.

“You’re back,” said the Tok’ra, looking up from her work when Sam entered, but in the symbiote voice.

“Dru’ri, right?” asked Sam.

“Yes,” said Dru’ri, coming forward to greet her with a slight tip of the head. “But Reyfa is pleased to see you as well. You were successful, we hear?”

“To an extent,” said Sam. “That’s why I’m here, though.” She held out the sphere. “Did I tell you about our GDOs?”

“You did,” said Dru’ri, looking but not touching. “If I remember correctly, they are a code that can be used by anyone—useful, I’m sure, but not secure enough for our needs.”

“Right,” said Sam, the hint of a smile on her mouth. “These are similar to GDOs, except they are sent through the gate to impact our iris, and the unique radiation signature is tied to whoever holds the device.”

“Hmm,” Dru’ri said, taking the device from Sam and looking it over. Her hands held it carefully, but Sam could see how her fingers twitched to take it apart. She even thought she could read a bit of impression on her face. “But apart from theft, radiation could be easily duplicated by an advanced race.”

“That’s what got me thinking,” said Sam. Dru’ri’s eyebrow rose in questioning. “Radiation is common to the galaxy,” Sam continued, “but there must be substances that are not. Naquadah, I know, the Goa’uld also possess, but what I’ve seen of Tok’ra technology is often different from the Goa’uld’s. Could something be made of that difference?”

Dru’ri stared at the device, rolling it back and forth between her fingers. Then her eyes lit up, much as Reyfa’s had so often, “There may be something.” She turned and made her way across the lab to a cabinet.

“Can I know?” asked Sam, following her.

“Yes, yes,” said Dru’ri absently, opening the cabinet and pulling out a drawer. Taking a box from it, she glanced around the lab and sighed. Going to the nearest counter, she carefully swept aside the project that had been there, and set the box down.

“What is this?” asked Sam curiously, walking round to the other side of the counter.

“Tok’ra tunnel crystals,” said Dru’ri.

“These tunnels are from crystal technology?” asked Sam in awe.

“Oh, had no one told you that yet?” asked Dru’ri. She shrugged. “In any case, yes, we harvest the crystals off-world and alter them with our technology to suit our needs. Sometimes, though, the crystals are too brittle and shatter. I’ve asked for the pieces before, wondering if they could be put to some other use. Unfortunately, only whole crystals have the structure to hold data securely.”

Sam didn’t say anything, but her mind was already in a whirl thinking about how that might affect Goa’uld crystals.

“But, the effect of our technology will still be present in remnant form in these pieces, or so it would seem,” said Dru’ri. She paused. “But the Tok’ra have no iris.”

“You wouldn’t want one?” asked Sam curiously.

Dru’ri’s face looked slightly pained, as if she couldn’t wrap her head around the concept.  But even as her brow furrowed deeper, she had no ready answer. “It is not our way,” she said finally. “But perhaps it should be.”

“I always wondered why we seemed to be the first to think of it,” said Sam.

“Wonder no more, for I can answer that,” said Dru’ri, her face open again. “The gates were never intended to be like true doors, but rather like arches—no locks, no refusal of entrance, simply a way of passage. It did not cross our minds that they could be fully like gates.”

Sam shrugged. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re close to something.”

“I wonder why no host has thought of it before, though?” wondered Dru’ri aloud.

“Have any hosts had knowledge of the gates before joining the Tok’ra?” asked Sam.

“No,” said Dru’ri. “That is likely it.” She sighed. “It has always been difficult for us, that our hosts feel like they have nothing to offer us. It is a shame that you cannot stay and share your knowledge.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” said Sam.


“No, I meant as commentary on our technology and strategy,” said Dru’ri. “And unfortunately, the Council would never approve such foreclosure of all our secrets.”

“Oh,” said Sam, face falling a little as she remembers. “Yes, I see that.”

“But now I am curious,” Dru’ri continued, looking closer. “Tell me about how your iris works, and this device with it.”

ooooooo

Daniel sat slumped in his lab, flicking his pen at his notebook where he was supposed to be recording the latest developments. It wasn’t that he couldn’t find the words, it was that he couldn’t find the right ones. No matter what he thought of, he could see a hundred ways he could look back and regret them. And it didn’t help that he kept imagining what Jack would say, even though he would never let the man read his notebooks.

“Major Dixon has been informed of the events on Abydos,” said Teal’c, coming in and drawing Daniel from his reverie.

“Was he upset?” asked Daniel.

“No,” said Teal’c, hands behind back. “He and DoctorMcKay have understood the reasoning behind our decision. It is only ColonelO’Neill who feels hurt.”

“Would it have helped if we had at least told him at the time?” asked Daniel. “I mean, I didn’t want him to get upset about something where he didn’t have a say, but now it probably looks like we avoided him.”

“I do not believe ColonelO’Neill blames you, DanielJackson,” said Teal’c, loosening his stance and stepping closer to Daniel. “Nor do I believe he is entirely against your solution.”

“He just wanted to see her for himself,” said Daniel with a sigh, letting his pen rest in the groove of his notebook. “Maybe, Teal’c, maybe.”

“He was no less close to CaptainCarter than you,” said Teal’c. “Would you not wish for a chance to see a lost friend?”

“But he thinks it’s not her,” said Daniel, leaning back in his chair and looking up past Teal’c head to the dark ceiling. “I thought it would make him more upset.”

“And yet now you are trying to convince him that she is still there—do you not think he wishes to have the evidence to judge on his own?” Teal’c did not move as he spoke, but he watched Daniel closely.

“Yeah, well, here I go again, not getting him,” said Daniel, taking off his glasses to rest his eyes for a minute.

“I do not believe it is beyond your power to understand him,” said Teal’c, in a more than usually soft tone. “But perhaps you underestimate how deep you must look.”

Daniel smiled weakly and put his glasses back on, sitting up. “Maybe. How did you get to be my confidant, Teal’c?”

Teal’c’s face darkened a tinge, and then Daniel realized the obvious answer to his own question.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Teal’c, thanks,” he said, trying to save the conversation. But he knew they both knew which situation had led to this.

ooooooo

Dru’ri was not as interested as her host in open discussion of her projects, so after a while of watching her do tasks she couldn’t quite understand, Sam left the chamber. It had passed the time well, but she was ready to let Jolinar have her turn.

“Samantha.”

Sam jumped a little, then looked to her left to see Garshaw standing in the shadows, hands clasped in front of her. “Garshaw,” she acknowledged. “Do you need something?”

“The Council has been discussing your results further,” the Counselor said as preamble. “And also what future awaits you. You plan to continue your search for another host?”

“Yes,” said Sam.


“From your previous reports and from our own history, we see that this may take up many more weeks,” said Garshaw. “Would you not agree?”

“Yes,” said Sam, a tinge reluctantly. “We hope for a quick success though.”

Garshaw nodded twice, then paused for a second. “The Council has a request to make of you, Samantha.”

Sam’s curiosity was becoming somewhat apprehensive, but she answered, “What is it?”

“As you are probably aware now, the Tok’ra are stretched thin,” Garshaw continued with a sigh. “We have never had so few operatives ready on base, nor so many urgent tasks waiting for them once their former one is finished.”

Sam began to see where this was heading.

“We are, of course, in a position of debt to you for helping Jolinar survive as you have,” said Garshaw, “but there are some in the Council who believe that it would be easier on all if you did more. You were occupied on missions on your planet, were you not?”


“Yes,” said Sam, now mostly sure of the conversation and half listening half running through possible answers.

“Would it be possible for you to undertake small missions while searching for a host?” asked Garshaw. “You will not be asked to take on long missions of subterfuge, but even our smallest task may prove somewhat dangerous. Any answer you give will be accepted, but we must ask because of our need.”

*What is this, then?* asked Jolinar. *They wish to assign you to missions?*

“Just a moment,” said Sam. ~Okay, Jol, what’s this mean?~

*Truthfully—nothing,* said Jolinar. *There is, of course, no precedent.*

~So it’s just asking for help?~ said Sam.

*Asking?* said Jolinar.

~Begging, then?~

*Demanding, more like, even in her soft tones. The Tok’ra do not approve of wasting resources, that is all this is.*

Sam sighed audibly, and turned to Garshaw. “As long as I can approve each one as it comes up, I don’t see a problem. Nothing too dangerous, and nothing too long.”

“Of course,” said Garshaw, her previously determined face relaxed into satisfaction. She gave a slight bow, and then disappeared down the hall.

Sam stood for a moment, thinking about what she had agreed to. Once she had swore to stay separate and apart from Jolinar’s life—now she was taking on all but the whole role. And in a matter of weeks, she would also be serving as ambassador to Jolinar’s people. Did it matter that she hoped and assumed it would only be for a short time? Sighing, she pushed it all back, and let Jolinar take over and go inform Martouf and Lantash of all that had happened.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar were sound asleep in their chamber when the Tok’ra messenger knocked on the side of the chamber entrance. Suddenly roused, Jolinar sat up and clasped the blanket to her chest.

“You asked to be informed the very minute Sha’re woke,” said the young female Tok’ra, nodding.

“Ah, yes,” said Jolinar.

Bowing, the Tok’ra removed herself from the room.

~I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind right now,~ said Sam.

*Then we will go and ask her, of course,* said Jolinar, rising from the bed and grabbing for clothes.

They were both fully alert a few minutes later, arriving at the infirmary. Larys stood at the foot of Sha’re’s bed, concentration on his face as he examined some data on a tablet. Sha’re herself looked little different physically, but her face was shining as she looked down at the tousled head of her child cradled against her chest.

“Sha’re,” said Sam warmly, coming forward.

“Sa’m,” answered Sha’re, a little weakly and without moving her head, but happily. “Should you not be asleep now?”

“I’m fine, Sha’re, really,” said Sam, pulling a stool over to sit on. “Are you feeling all right?”

Sha’re frowned. “No—but also yes.” She closed her eyes for a second. “My demon is gone, but her stain still remains upon me. I can only hope it will fade.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” said Sam, smiling encouragingly even while her heart felt a twinge of concern. “And Shifu?”

“Oh, it is much better with him,” said Sha’re, looking down. The baby lay on his stomach, head comfortably resting on her chest and thumb still in his mouth as he slept. Sha’re had her arms lightly wrapped around him, just holding him to her. “I was glad that he knew me, and is already at ease.”

~Do you want to say anything?~ Sam asked Jolinar.

*I am fine,* said Jolinar.

Wondering if that was quite true, Sam continued. “He’s beautiful.”

“I did not doubt that,” said Sha’re with another weak smile. But then her eyes darkened. “I am not with my Dan’yel now—did you not see him without me?”

“I did,” said Sam, wishing that Sha’re had not brought that up just now. “But he didn’t believe me; we are meeting again in three weeks to discuss things further.”

“Stubborn Dan’yel,” said Sha’re, a slight frown on her face. “But how was he?”

“He looked well,” said Sam, thinking. “Kind of sad and worn, but he was very concerned when I mentioned you, so I’m sure seeing you will bring the old Daniel back.”

“As long as your ‘old Dan’yel’ is the same as my old Dan’yel, I will hope that you are surely correct,” said Sha’re, looking satisfied. She breathed out, leaning back against the pillow and cuddling Shifu closer.

Sam sat for a moment, letting the stress she thought had been erased by just knowing Sha’re was all right fully dissipate. Now she had only to show Daniel this future of his happiness, and things would be fully repaired from the disaster Amonet had caused. If Sha’re was right, and the memories of Amonet faded quickly—but Sam had no doubt in Sha’re to overcome everything.

“I am fine, Sa’m,” said Sha’re. Sam looked up, seeing the woman smiling indulgently at her. “You need not stay by my side and forego sleep.”

“You’re right,” said Sam, smiling. “And I’m sure you need even more sleep as well,” she added, looking to Larys.

“I have slept enough, surely,” said Sha’re.


“No, Samantha was right about that,” said Larys, looking up then. “You are ordered to rest until you feel that you will go mad with the inactivity.” He paused and smiled. “And even then you will stay abed a little longer—I promise, none of my patients have actually gone mad in all the centuries that I have been healing.”

Sha’re was not quite recovered enough to have a ready answer, so instead she sighed and shook her head a little, resigned. Sam gave her a farewell nod and left to return to bed.

ooooooo

“Yes?” said Daniel, answering his phone gingerly with one hand, hoping the dust wouldn’t get it all dirty as he balanced a delicate sculpture in the other.

“Daniel, what the hell are you still doing on base?” came Jack’s nagging tones.

“I’m going home, just not yet,” said Daniel. “Why are you calling?”

“Just checking—had a feeling.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and hung up. Five seconds later, just as he had started a delicate cleaning, it rang again. Giving up on keeping his phone undusty, he picked it up normally. “Not yet either, Jack.”

“Doctor Jackson?”

“Oh, sorry,” said Daniel, blinking. “Who’s this?”

“Technician Banks. We just received Kasuf’s signal from Abydos.”

“What?” asked Daniel, frowning. “That’s only for something important or urgent.”

“Yes, we know. General Hammond’s been notified, and he says that SG-1 should go early tomorrow and check it out.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” said Daniel, brow furrowed. “I don’t suppose it’s an emergency—we were just there.”

“All right then, I’ll contact the rest of SG-1,” finished Technician Banks.

Daniel sighed and hung up the phone. Jack would have been glad to know he was right, and Daniel should go home and to bed now. It would be an early day tomorrow—whatever Kasuf wanted them for. He only hoped it wasn’t too urgent that a six hour delay would matter.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 - Change

Despite previously gulping down two cups of black coffee, even though he cringed while doing it, Daniel was yawning in the gateroom. He wasn’t the only one—the sudden 6 am morning mission on a day that originally had no mission planned meant everyone was a little ready to doze right off. McKay was slowly putting on his jacket, his yawn wide enough to take in Daniel’s whole coffee mug, and he looked like he needed it. Dixon, of course, was standing straight and ready, despite the continual blinking to keep him alert. Jack, maybe, was the most rested, aside from Teal’c who needed none.

“I really don’t see why I need to go on this one,” said McKay in the short space between yawns. “Nothing will be there.”

“You say that every mission,” said Dixon, rolling his eyes.

“No,” said McKay, but unable to finish his thought due to a big yawn. Dixon and Daniel waited patiently for him to finish while Jack was speaking to Hammond. Teal’c was ignoring them all. “Just to planets that would have nothing of interest to me.”

“Like Cimmeria,” said Dixon.

“He he, very funny,” drawled McKay, his own eyes rolling. “But what technology was on that planet where we were all nearly mined to death?”

“So how do you intend to improve things?” asked Dixon. “Are you going to travel back in time at the end of each mission to tell your former self whether he should go or not?”

“No,” said McKay. Dixon nodded, but McKay continued, “There’s no feasible way at the moment to time travel.”

“What, you haven’t built one yet?” asked Dixon.

“But in any case, I know that there’s nothing on Abydos,” said McKay.

Any further banter was cut short as Jack walked over, face dark. “Okay, folks, we have a problem.”

“What is it?” asked Daniel, feeling suddenly apprehensive.

“MALP is having issues,” said Jack. “It went through, took a couple seconds of film, and then stopped transmitting.”

“What? How?” asked McKay, alert for the moment. He took the stairs up to the control room two at a time, and Daniel followed, equally curious. “Show me the film,” McKay said.

Daniel stood behind McKay and watched. The others were a few seconds behind.

“This makes no sense,” said McKay, frowning, tapping his finger on the keyboard. “Atmosphere readings are normal, no noise to indicate sabotage...”

“And we were just there,” said Daniel.

McKay played the clip again, and then again. “There is no logical reason why this should be cutting out,” he said.

“Any illogical reasons?” snarked Jack.

“Yes, hundreds,” said McKay shortly. “Which one do you want me to randomly guess first?”

“Wait, play that again,” said Daniel, frowning. He leaned closer to the screen. “I think I know the problem. Look, Jack, that isn’t what the Abydos gateroom looks like.”

“So, what, they moved the gate?” asked Jack.

“That’s not any other place I know of on Abydos,” said Daniel, shaking his head. He frowned. “It almost looks like the ceilings in the pyramid.”

“Wait, that could explain it,” said McKay, raising one finger and tapping it against the air. “The gate was probably knocked over; the MALP goes through, but it can’t fly up and so it falls back and dissolves into the wormhole.”

“Why would the gate have been knocked over?” asked Daniel.

There was a moment of silence.

“Permission to have a team of marines standing by, sir?” asked Jack, looking to Hammond.

“Permission granted—we don’t know what happened on the other side,” said the General. “And I want frequent updates on your status.”

“Understood,” said Jack. “Come on, team, let’s go.”

“You don’t suppose they were attacked, do you?” asked McKay, eyes wide.

“No, they couldn’t be, no one knows about that planet other than Apophis,” said Daniel, frowning. “And he’d have attacked by now if he planned to.” But as they all got ready to go through the gate, he had a sinking feeling in his heart that their luck had gone sour again.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar didn’t sleep in that morning, but instead woke early and went to the Tok’ra gate.

“Have you tried to contact Abydos?” Sam asked.

“Yes, but with no success,” said one of the Tok’ra guards. “We tried twice, but the gate refused to connect, Perhaps it has been buried again?”

“Hmm,” said Sam, brow creased. “That doesn’t make sense, since I told him we would be contacting them shortly about Sha’re.”

“We will try again tomorrow,” said the Tok’ra.

With no alternative recourse, Sam nodded and returned with Jolinar to the Tok’ra tunnels. She would have to meet with the Council to discuss missions anyway.

ooooooo

It was not a pleasant experience, going through an upturned gate. Grappling hooks were sent through, and then one held onto a rope and walked normally through. But immediately on the other side, the gravity suddenly pulled one back into the gate, leading one’s grip to be sorely tested. Thankfully, they were all well aware of the life-or-death nature, and no one slipped while climbing up and over the gate onto the rubble. But that didn’t mean there was no grumbling.

Finally, all resting by the shimmering pool of event horizon, they spared a moment to look around.

“This is the gate room,” said Daniel. “But what’s with the rubble? Where’s the coverstone?”

The pillars were all standing, the DHD in its place, but rocks and broken pieces of tentpoles and pottery were in piles around the gate and up against the entrance as well. With the sun peeking through a distant crack and casting strange shadows, it looked ruinous.

“This doesn’t look good,” said Jack, standing up and pacing around.

“Doesn’t look like attack, though,” said Dixon, pointing at the various piles with his gun. “Too careful.”

“So they wanted to pretend the Stargate was really buried?” asked McKay between heavy breaths. He had been last, but even with help, it had been a strain on him to get out of the gate.

“If someone was looking for the gate with any determination, this would not deter them sufficiently,” said Teal’c.

Daniel’s face was dark and he didn’t say anything.

“Shouldn’t we try to get out of here and look around?” asked Dixon. “Where are the people?”

“I think we’re looking at some kind of invasion,” said Jack.

“Space invasion?” said McKay. “You’ve got to be kidding, why? They’d dial the gate, and when it didn’t work, why come all the way here?”

“Maybe they don’t operate the gates,” said Dixon with a shrug.

“If we go out there, they’ll see we’re different, assuming that’s what’s going on,” said Daniel.

“Yeah, should’a brought your robes, huh?” said Jack.

“Could’a should’a would’a,” said Dixon. “Just have to stay out of sight.”

“I’ll go,” said Daniel.

“Dixon, you stay with McKay and Teal’c,” said Jack. “Daniel and I will browse around—no radio contact unless we initiate.”

“Yes, sir,” said Dixon.

“I will stand guard at the entrance in case of a swift retreat,” said Teal’c.

“You do that then,” said Jack.

Daniel got up and followed Jack to the main entrance to this room. The rubble was at head height but they would be able to see over it. Teal’c joined them and offered to help them climb without making noise. Daniel, as the lightest and nimblest, not that the difference was great, made his way to the couple feet of space at the top. Outside the gateroom he could see a few tents, but no people and no noise of them beyond sight.

“I don’t see anything,” he whispered down to Jack and Teal’c.

“Up and over then,” ordered Jack. “Keep low, just in case.”

From the outside, the rubble didn’t look so obvious, and a well-placed broken shade added to the aura of abandonment. Sneaking through the empty tents in the pyramid, Daniel began to get even more worried when there was no sign of anything. By the time they stood on the outer steps, he was certain some tragedy had happened.

Looking down into the village, he saw some plainly Abydonian people and the glint of silver on marching figures. From this distance no more could be discerned; the sky and the horizon were clear in all directions.

“Where do we go from here?” asked Daniel.

“Nowhere,” said Jack, indicating just below them. A few figures were leaving the village on a path that could only lead to one logical place—the pyramid.

Ducking back to hide and notifying Dixon, they sat still and waited. Eventually the marching feet left the sand and resounded loudly on the stone steps, coming ever nearer.

“My lord, the pyramid is not presently suitable as a temple or place of command,” came a deep male voice.

“I do not want to do anything with it, I just want to look over my new planet.”

Daniel and Jack shared shocked looks. That was a female Goa’uld voice if they ever heard one. As the footsteps stopped, Daniel peeked around the corner. Sure enough, they were Jaffa, though with a symbol he did not know. They were standing in two lines, and he could only catch sight of a piece of Goa’uld robes—and then the Goa’uld swept back away from the steps.


It wasn’t the sort of face that blended with all the rest; this Goa’uld had chosen a striking host. Wide eyes, prominent cheekbones, a slightly crooked nose, and a strong but sensuous mouth—the parts together turned the whole face into one both beautiful and terrible. After a moment of appreciation at the power this Goa’uld portrayed with not a word spoken, Daniel turned his attention to the symbol on her Jaffa. Who was this?

Before he could make up his mind on her, the Goa’uld spoke again. “Have you selected the young males and females for the mining operation?”

“Yes, my lord,” said the first prime. “The rest shall be taken to your worlds.”

“Excellent,” said the Goa’uld, a smirk on the corner of her expressive lips, her eyes glinting even without the traditional snakey glow. “Lord Ba’al may have thought this world stripped of all resources, but I shall make him a fool yet again. If nothing else there may be some attractive stock for my court. Begin loading the ships!”

The first prime clasped his forearm across his chest, bowing sharply, and then the whole troop descended the steps again. The Goa’uld paused halfway down, casting a languorous glance back along the once-magnificent pyramid. Daniel’s heart leapt for a moment, sure her eyes had passed straight over where he was, but it must have been a trick of the light. She turned once again, and finished her magnificent departure down the steps.

Daniel looked back at Jack, who was already simmering in growing anger. “Not what we thought, then?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re going to get Hammond to send us what we need to take out this snake,” growled Jack, standing up and heading back to the rest of the team.

“Wouldn’t the better plan be to rescue the people?” asked Daniel, pausing before standing. “We may not have time to infiltrate her ship.”

“It, Daniel,” said Jack sharply over his shoulder. “And I didn’t say infiltrate.”

“So what, you’re going to ask for a warhead again?” asked Daniel, jogging to catch up. “You can’t do that, Jack.”

Jack didn’t answer.

“Jack, we can’t start a war like this,” Daniel continued pushing.

“What else do you suggest, Daniel?” said Jack through gritted teeth, spinning around and stopping short for a second. “You think we can scoop a whole civilization out from under a Goa’uld’s nose without them noticing?”

Daniel opened his mouth, and then closed it, eyes pained. “Do you think we can take out the ship? Or rather, that Hammond will agree?”

“We’ll see, won’t we,” said Jack.

ooooooo

~So, these dangerous missions, that we won’t be going on,~ said Sam, after the Council had given their final decision on where to send Jolinar. ~What exactly do you do?~

*Our goal is the end the Goa’uld,* said Jolinar. *We keep powerful factions warring with themselves, undermine the support system of minor and unimportant Goa’uld, and look for information that would help us destroy them altogether.*

~Undermine minor Goa’ulds...you mean start Jaffa rebellion?~

*Their human slaves are much more receptive,* said Jolinar. *The Jaffa rely on the Goa’uld to some extent and are harder to turn.*

~What about non-dangerous missions, then?~ asked Sam. ~What will we be doing?~

*Aid, negotiation, support for other missions,* said Jolinar. *Not particularly without danger, just less of it.*

~Yeah, even science missions can go wrong,~ said Sam.

*I prefer that,* said Jolinar. *Then I have a purpose on them.*

Sam grinned.

ooooooo

“Sir, these people are our responsibility!” said Jack through the radio.

“I’m sorry, Jack, but the Abydos people are not worth the risk of making another enemy,” answered Hammond for the third time. “We can barely keep our own world safe from the ones we have now.”

“How is it our responsibility?” asked McKay. “Just because we know them? It’s not like we did anything.”

“Quetesh,” said Daniel finally. “I do know that symbol—it’s Quetesh.”

“How do you think Quetesh found out about Abydos?” Jack asked McKay after a glance to Daniel. “It’s Apophis’ world, or was until we cut him off by burying the gate. And it didn’t sound like it was here on Apophis’ orders. No, the only way another Goa’uld would hear of Abydos is through information, and I don’t think Apophis is talking.”

“Wait, what are you suggesting?” asked McKay.

“Yeah, that’s a good question,” said Daniel, looking up from his brooding.

“Who’s the one person out there who knows about Abydos and is with the Goa’uld, and would betray Apophis?” asked Jack, finishing with a toss of his hand at how simple it was.

“Sam?” asked Daniel incredulously.

“I do not believe ColonelO’Neill suspects CaptainCarter,” said Teal’c.

“I know you want to believe that old Jolly’s really a Tok’ra, but when it comes down to it we have absolutely no proof they exist, Daniel,” said Jack.

“But why would she do this, it makes no sense?” asked Daniel. “She just got us to trust her a little, why betray that trust not three days later?”

“She didn’t know we gave Kasuf a way to contact Earth,” said Dixon, shrugging. “How else could he let us know what she did?”

“But—” said Daniel, not sure what his argument was but sure that he had one.

“Colonel O’Neill, I’m sorry, but there is no way that we can justify a military strike against a Goa’uld of unknown strength.” Hammond’s voice broke through the uneasy silence.

No one else had anything to say, either to Hammond or to Jack’s suspicions. Dixon and McKay seemed already on Jack’s side—Teal’c was unreadable apart from the concern on his face. But for whom?

“Do I have permission to rescue as many as possible without drawing attention to Earth?” asked Jack.

There was a long pause. “You have two hours, Colonel. Godspeed.”

The Stargate disengaged, leaving the room a little darker.

“I didn’t think he’d approve even that,” said Dixon, surprised.

“These people are almost family, Dixon,” said Jack with emphasis. “And he knows I wouldn’t accept a no anyway.”

“So wait, this is a rescue mission now?” said McKay.

“Looks like,” said Dixon, grabbing the backpack he had set down while they waited.

Daniel shook his head. He looked at Jack, who’s face was still grim, and then sighed and picked up his own pack. At this point, it didn’t matter how it had happened, it only mattered that his people were in danger.

“We can’t save them all, Daniel,” said Jack quietly as he passed by him.

“I know,” said Daniel softly. From the moment he had seen Quetesh, he had lost all hope in this turning out well. Jack might very well be right, as this situation nearly screamed of the same luck that had followed Jolinar’s relations with them so far. He bit back any desperation, and steeled himself for making hard choices.

ooooooo

“You are going on Tok’ra missions?” asked Sha’re, her eyes wide with question. She was able to sit up in bed now, and her skin had regained some more color. “I did not think—” She broke off.

Sam sighed a little. “It’s not what you think, just that whenever I stay idle like this, I’m keeping Jolinar with me. Jolinar hasn’t complained yet, but I know she’s been thinking about it and so has the Council. I won’t be gone for very long, just little things.”

“Like SG-1 was?” asked Sha’re.

Sam paused, thinking. “Yeah, I guess it will be a little like that.”

“That is good, then,” said Sha’re, smiling. “You have been restless with all the waiting.”

“That’s not a good thing,” said Sam, correcting her. “I get caught up in my work, but I should be able to relax.”

“And you can,” said Sha’re with an encouraging smile, looking down to where Shifu began to fuss for food. “But not anymore, there is no need. I shall have to convince Martouf when you are gone that I am well enough for Tok’ra entertainment. They, also, find it difficult to relax, but they do and so shall I.”

“I wonder if Saroosh or Selmak would like to see Shifu,” wondered Sam. “I’m sure they would enjoy having someone with no more pressing business to talk to.” She frowned. “I’m not sure if they could come down here, though.”

“I am sure I will be fine, Sa’m,” said Sha’re, settling Shifu into position so that he could nurse happily while she spoke. “Shifu and the doctor’s orders take up much of my day in the first place.” She paused. “Why do I not hear from Jolinar? You often speak of her, but she only speaks to Martouf and Lantash, not to me.”

~Oh, a challenge,~ said Sam, a little glee in her tone.

Jolinar took Sam’s proffered control, coming forward to speak. “I did not think you would be comfortable around the voice of a symbiote, and once that was no longer the issue, you were already familiar with Samantha, not myself.”

“Did you not think that I could feel your presence?” asked Sha’re. “What is a voice compared to that?”

“Are you so interested in one whom you will soon be leaving?” asked Jolinar in return.

“Not forever, surely,” said Sha’re. “Sa’m told me that she intends to propose an alliance.”

Jolinar shrugged. “Whatever happens, I did not think your mind would dwell on us.”

Sha’re stretched forth her hand, her face losing its teasing appearance. “I do not forget kindnesses, to myself or to my friends.”

Jolinar stepped forward, clasping the hand gently.

“Good, that’s settled then,” said Sha’re, readjusting Shifu as he continued to feed.

*I believe you are right, she and Selmak and Saroosh would enjoy each other’s company indeed,* said Jolinar. *They are of the same cloth.* She then gave control back to Sam.

“Just so you know, she doesn’t talk much in any case,” said Sam to Sha’re.

“But now I know she does,” said Sha’re, simply satisfied. She sighed, and Sam caught a hint of weariness, but not enough to pry. Sha’re could be very stubborn in refusing to talk about anything wrong with her; Sam hoped that Daniel had better luck, yet another benefit that this coming negotiation would hopefully bring.

“I will see you late tomorrow then, I believe,” said Sam. “We shall take a short mission first.”

“I cannot promise to be awake, but I will hope for it,” said Sha’re, smiling as before.

ooooooo

With McKay and Dixon holding the position at the pyramid, Jack, Daniel and Teal’c pressed forward into the village. Their desert-colored BDUs kept any eyes from directly noticing them but there seemed to be few about to see in the first place. There were only a handful of Jaffa in the village, and before any discussion of the issue could take place, Teal’c and Jack had quietly disposed of them. Sneaking over to the crest of the hill, though, they saw the rest of the invading force crowded down by the mines.

There were many more Jaffa than seemed necessary, probably as Quetesh had not been fully aware of what population Abydos supported, and many were not even standing guard but loitering around. Quetesh was not there, but her first prime was directing things himself. Daniel watched as the Jaffa crowded the one group of people toward the mine, and the other into the two Goa’uld ships.

“There’s not enough room in those ships,” said Jack in a low tone. He pulled out binoculars and gave a closer look. “It looks like the snake’s taking mostly the women and the children.”

“What do we do?” asked Daniel.

Jack didn’t answer, just continued to look down on the scene below. Finally, he closed them and put them back in his jacket. “Teal’c, how much C4 do you have?”

“Only a small portion, Colonel O’Neill,” answered Teal’c.

Daniel glanced between them. “What?”

Jack pulled out his radio. “Dixon? I’m going to need your C4 in a minute—we’re just on the crest of the hill.”

“Jack?” asked Daniel, unsure and concerned.

“They provoked an attack, Daniel,” said Jack without emotion. “We were forced to defend ourselves with lethal force. Hammond will understand.”

“We are defying GeneralHammond’s orders?” asked Teal’c with one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, yes we are,” said Jack.

“But—” began Daniel.

“No buts, Daniel,” cut off Jack. “At this point, I really don’t care if this comes back to bite us in the ass. I’m not going to decide who’s worth saving.”

Daniel stood without words to add—his heart was aching at seeing his people shuffled like cattle, and Jack was saying what he wanted to say. And yet, because Jack had suggested it, he felt like he needed to be the one to object. But—why? He glanced back down at the ships, and clenched his jaw. As Jack would say, to hell with orders.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 - Luck

“This is a terrible plan!” said McKay as he followed Daniel back through the tents.

“McKay, do you want to be on this team?” sighed Daniel.

“Yes.”

“Then act like it.”

“It’s not the breaking orders thing,” continued McKay.

Daniel found what he was looking for and glanced at the scientist, a little surprised at the answer. “Oh?”

“No, it really is a terrible plan,” said McKay. “Sneaking into the ships to set off C4? Then what?”

“Then the Jaffa will be called to the more important issue, and we can evacuate all the Abydonians through the gate,” said Daniel.

“What if they aren’t all called?” asked McKay.

Daniel gritted his teeth. “Look at who made the plan—what do you think comes next?”

“How is this not starting a war?” asked McKay. “I mean, seriously, I hate the Goa’uld as much as anyone, but I’m not going to die here on principle’s sake!”

“No one’s going to die,” assured Daniel. He grabbed what he had found, and walked past McKay out of the tent.

“You don’t know that!” McKay hissed as they went back to the others.

“This is what I found,” reported Daniel. “They’re a bit big, but that’s good.” He tossed a tan robe each to Teal’c, Jack, and Dixon, who were crouched and keeping a sharp eye on everything going on below.

“They’ve got a third of the people on board by now,” said Jack. “We still have time. Okay, team, this is it—McKay, you’re going to be the distraction since you can’t be anything else.”

McKay blinked and opened his mouth, but the looks of his teammates had it quickly shut again.

“Just go over there and fire your gun a few times,” said Jack. “Not the whole clip, though, we may need it later. Any of the Jaffa not busy will try to track you down, so you just run like hell back up to the gate. Before they get you, we’ll have caused a bigger mess. Dixon, Teal’c, and I will sneak in among the Abydonians as they’re all rushed in because of the fuss, and Daniel will position himself by the mines in the confusion. Teal’c will ring to the other ship and set the C4 there, and Dixon and I will do the same on this ship.” Jack used his hands to indicate the various positions.

“When that goes off, if we have any luck this Quetesh will call them to see what happened. At that moment, you Daniel will reveal yourself and call for everyone to run, and we’ll do the same from inside the ship. They should listen to us. Any Jaffa who try to stop us, you will zat them. No guns, because you might hit one of our people in the confusion. McKay, you will dial the gate as soon as you get to the pyramid, then direct the people as they come towards you. Understood, all?”

“Yes, sir,” said Dixon.

Teal’c nodded.

“Yes,” said McKay, after a moment’s hesitation.

Daniel looked at Jack and nodded. He had some serious reservations, but he had also decided that more was going on than Jack’s usual stubbornness—something that wouldn’t be assuaged by his words alone.

“Just one question,” said McKay, finger raised.

Jack rolled his eyes, but nodded for him to continue.

“There’s a lot of variables here,” McKay said, “but one especially—what if the people are too scared to run?”

“These people stood up to Ra and Apophis,” said Jack. “With our help, yes, but we’re here and we’ve got guns. They’ll do it.”

McKay winced a little, still unsure, but didn’t object.

“Let’s go!” whispered Jack.

As the military men got their robes on and hid their weapons underneath, while Daniel made his way west along the ridge until the village was just southwest of him. The mines were a little farther back than the ships, caves of stone barely peeking up from the sand, but he didn’t need to get all the way there. From this angle, any Jaffa running would be going to the east of him.

“You ready?” called Jack over the radio.

“All set,” said Daniel, crouched and ready to dash down the hill and behind that nice dune near the mines.

“Now, McKay!”

Behind him, suddenly, Daniel heard a wild banshee-like shriek and some random shots into the air. He glanced back and saw McKay, head ducked to his chest and one arm raised with the gun, darting up the hill beyond the village. Looking back, he saw that the Jaffa had heard too. The strange noise was worth investigating, and all but who were necessary grabbed staff weapons and charged up the hill. The ones keeping guard kept their gaze on the prisoners, and Daniel thought he saw the Abydonians look up in recognition at the sound. But he didn’t have time to look closer, and half-ran half-slid down the hill before the remaining Jaffa looked back up.

The little avalanche of sand that he left stilled before the initial confusion was past, and by then Daniel was in position. He looked across the plain to the ships, and saw three robed figures add themselves in the middle of the crowd. Sure enough, the Jaffa were hurrying the procession onto the ships, ceasing their check of each figure for a young man trying to escape the mines. Before a whole minute had passed, Daniel couldn’t see the rest of his team.

“McKay?” he whispered into his radio.

There was no answer for a bit, but before Daniel could worry, there came a breathless, frantic “What?”

“They’re in—shouldn’t be long,” whispered Daniel, making sure the volume was turned as low as it could go.

“They’re right on my tail up here, I only have a couple minutes, if that!” said McKay, sounding desperate.

“You do know how to shoot, right?” asked Daniel, frowning a little as he realized the timing might go a little off.

“Not at a moving target!”

Daniel grimaced. “Come on guys,” he murmured, not in the radio.

The seconds felt like minutes, and nearly all the crowd of Abydonians were on the ship now. Suddenly, there was a rapid fire of loud explosions, though not as loud as they could have been. A couple spots on the first ship burst into flame for a couple seconds before dying down to a smoky char.

Daniel leapt out, spreading his arms wide and calling in a loud voice. “People of Abydos!”

He wasn’t loud enough for them all to hear, but as a few turned, they beckoned to the others. The Jaffa heard too, though, so Daniel didn’t waste time. “I am Daniel and I have returned to help you, but you must stand up and fight!”

The Jaffa were prepared to fire, and Daniel was prepared to drop, but a few ambitious Abydonians tackled the nearest Jaffa to the ground. A second later, and suddenly they were moving as a  mass, a mob, a crowd, not fighting but just knocking the Jaffa to the ground as they made their way to Daniel.

“Come! This way!” he beckoned, up the hill.

Another explosion rang out from the second ship, and two more from the first. Looking up the hill, Daniel hoped the other Jaffa were on their way. The Abydonians came rushing up to Daniel.

“Dan’yel!” called one.

“What are you doing here?” asked another.

“What should we do?”

“There is a demon here!”

“I know,” said Daniel, speaking up. “And the Jaffa are on their way, but we can escape through the Chappa’ai.”

“The Jaffa will kill us!” offered one frightened man.

“They have killed many,” said another, sober.

“We are distracting them, hopefully they will not see,” said Daniel. “Now hurry!” He ushered the first hundred or so, and the rest followed, seeing the wisdom of not loitering.

Daniel glanced behind as the Abydonians made their way up the hill. The Jaffa were inside the ships, and Daniel could only hope that Jack and Teal’c and Dixon were all right.

“Jackson!” McKay’s tense voice came over the radio. “Jackson, is it okay?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Daniel. He had run back to behind the sand dune as the Jaffa returned from the pyramid, intent on reaching their god’s ship but not undistractable. “But everyone’s coming your way—dial a safe place and have them go through. We can’t send them to Earth right now.”

“I figured that,” said McKay, his voice just a hint relieved.

There were three more explosions on the ships, loud and dramatic, and Daniel frowned. Those couldn’t be C4, they came from outside... He looked up and swore. Death gliders.

“Jack? Teal’c? Dixon?” he called into the radio. “You alive?”

“Barely, Jackson,” answered Dixon, and the shots of Jaffa could be heard around him.

“There’s another Goa’uld attacking,” said Daniel, looking up. “Things are going to get really rough.”

“Teal’c hasn’t opened up the second ship—there’s still some Abydonians in there. You?”

“They’re headed towards the gate,” said Daniel, ducking as a glider flew straight over him and sent several shots into the Al’kesh, leaving smoke and fire behind. “You have to get out of there now!”

“Whoa there!” came Dixon. “Teal’c, your ship’s firing up engines!”

“Teal’c, get your ass out of there!” called Jack finally.

Sure enough, the second ship was beginning to rise in the air.

Daniel bit his lip, waiting. A few more death gliders ploughed through, sending their shots onto the first ship. It looked barely in one piece. Finally, he saw two small figures run down the ramp and out, and just as a third appeared, another shot hit the ship. Running as fast as they could, explosions rolled out from the damage to the rest of the ship behind them, and the rest of SG-1 was barely out of the way before the whole ship blew.

The second ship was already in the air, and flying high and away—they had failed to stop Quetesh entirely.

“We’ve got Jaffa!” called McKay, desperate again over the radio.

“Get the guns into hands!” ordered Jack.

Daniel ran up to his three comrades, all a bit out of breath.

“We’re so screwed!” said Dixon.

“McKay needs support,” said Jack, rising to his feet from where he had fallen to cover his head as the ship exploded. His face was streaked with soot and sweat, and his expression was grim. “And we need to leave.”

They all ran up the hill, making the return trip in much better time. Dixon and Jack ran into the pyramid, guns blazing, and immediately had reason to fire. A few Abydonians lay dead on the floor, scattered as if hit while running, and the Jaffa were pouring from the rings every few seconds. The gate was wide open and still on its side, and the other Abydonians were crawling through. McKay was sending out near-random shots from behind a pillar, an Abydonian providing support with his other gun.

Finishing off the few Jaffa, SG-1 quickly met up near the gate to establish a defense position.

“We’re almost done,” gasped McKay, overwhelmed with panic and stress.

“Those are Heru’ur’s Jaffa,” said Teal’c. “He is an enemy of Apophis.”

“So it could be coincidence?” asked Daniel. He glanced around, seeing that all his people got through safely.

A few more Jaffa ringed in, but the ready and aimed weapons of all four had them on the ground in seconds.

“Indeed,” said Teal’c. “It is possible he heard the rumor that Apophis sent his queen here, as Jolinar suggested.”

“Yes, Jolinar could get around, couldn’t she,” said Jack with a set jaw.

Finally, the last Abydonian was through the gate. Backing through with guns at the ready, SG-1 left Abydos a site of battle once again. Daniel felt a pang as he saw all the bodies on the floor, and thought of the people still on Quetesh’s ship if it had survived the attack from Heru’ur. This mission had been so frantic, so on the spot, and such a mixture of success and failure.

On the planet, once the gate disengaged, they all stood for a minute. It was an empty planet, very green and sunny, as if all was well with the universe. The Abydonians were crowded around, trying to see who had been lost, and McKay took a seat on a boulder.

“Now what?” asked Dixon.

“That ship’s long gone,” said Jack darkly. “One way or another.”

“So they’re lost for good?” asked Daniel.

Jack gave him a look, knowing that Daniel knew the answer to that question. Daniel sighed. “I know, we don’t know anything about Quetesh or where her base is.”

“Dan’yel?” Adros, a young Abydonian, hesitantly approached SG-1.

“Yes, Adros?” answered Daniel, turning a little wearily but glad for the change in topic.

“When you set forth to find our people, there are some among us who wish to join,” he said. “There are many with family among the lost.”

“Adros, we don’t know what we’re going to do about that yet,” said Daniel, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “We don’t know how this happened.”

“It was a Goa’uld attack,” said Adros, confused. “What more is there?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” said Jack, stepping forward. “You see, we think we know how this snake found out about this place.”

“But what does that matter?” asked Adros. “Our people, our family?”

“We don’t know where they are,” said Daniel, putting a hand on the man’s arm. “But we’ll try our best. Believe me, Adros.”

“We all believe in you, Dan’yel,” said Adros, even though his brow furrowed.

Daniel frowned. “My good father, Kasuf?”

“He was chosen by Quetesh at first, because he resisted and stood forth as our leader,” said Adros sadly. “He was the one who sent for you, and made sure that the Chappa’ai was not discovered. He told us that we were not to anger the Goa’uld further, because you would come to rescue us, and then he was taken. He was on the other ship in the end if he survived at all.”

Daniel stood, somewhat stricken. All his family on this planet, taken by the Goa’uld, even after all his effort and sacrifice to keep them safe.

“We need to contact Hammond before anything else,” said Jack, breaking the silence. He glanced to McKay, who stood up and began dialing earth. “There’s a lot to discuss.”

ooooooo

Sam’s first mission with the Tok’ra was dreadfully boring, as Jolinar had warned it would be. They were simply to bring supplies through Goa’uld territory to a Tok’ra outpost, and since all the Jaffa on this world were at that moment preparing for war with another Goa’uld, it was scarcely dangerous at all. Neither Sam nor Jolinar were at any moment concerned for their life, and as the delivery was over quickly, they were quickly able to settle for the night in a dark cave on the planet. Hopefully their return journey would be just as dull.

Just as they were about to sleep, though, there was a communication from the Tok’ra home-world.

“We thought you would want to know, we were able to connect to Abydos,” said one of the Tok’ra who guarded the gate.

“You tried again?” asked Jolinar.

The Tok’ra nodded on the device, and it rippled a little. “We made a connection not long ago and sent our signal through, but received no answer.”

Jolinar frowned. “That is another ill sign.”

“We shall try again tomorrow morning,” he said. “But if we again receive no answer, you should be ready to investigate.”

“Understood,” said Jolinar. The device went dark.

~I don’t understand what the problem could be,~ said Sam.

*I have a bad feeling about this,* said Jolinar.

~Maybe it’s a technical issue,~  said Sam. ~That happens a lot, more than the sinister things.~

*Maybe on your world,* said Jolinar. *But we cannot do anything tonight.* She silenced her mind after that, preparing for sleep.

Sam wasn’t quite ready to let it go, unable to come up with an easy answer for the situation. Jolinar had been right before, maybe she knew more about this world, enough to guess. Or maybe she was just pessimistic. She had made the decision anyway, to go to sleep. Sometimes Sam liked to stay awake after Jolinar dozed off so to experience a modicum of privacy, but not tonight. She closed her mind off to worry and joined Jolinar in deep sleep.

ooooooo

Daniel wasn’t sure he’d ever had a more painful briefing. At least when Sam had gone, there was no blame and no disobedience. This briefing had everything wrong. Jack was taking most of the blame, and if Daniel had been more on top of things he would have jumped up to say that he was just as ready to break the rules. But there were other, perhaps more important things, making him frown and rest his head on his hands sometimes, rubbing wearily at his eyes.

“Colonel, do you even give a damn about the rules?” snapped Hammond, losing all patience after a half an hour of butting heads.

“Yes sir,” said Jack, “just not right now.”

“Damn it, I should have you court-martialed!” said Hammond.

“I saved these people, sir,” said Jack.

“And you didn’t have the right,” said Hammond. “The people of Abydos are not our responsibility, much as you may think otherwise. We didn’t lead the Goa’uld to them, we came into a bad situation and tried to make it better.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think so,” said Jack forcefully.

This was what Daniel had feared.

“You care to explain yourself?” asked Hammond, sitting back from where he had been leaned forward in his chair.

“This Quetesh didn’t talk about Apophis or Ra,” said Jack. “This wasn’t two Goa’uld fighting over territory.”

Hammond looked to Teal’c and Dixon, who had been still and mostly silent. McKay had carefully seated himself down from both Jack and Daniel, out of near sight from Hammond. None of them  protested Jack’s observation, and Teal’c barely nodded his head in agreement.

“If this is true, where did this Quetesh come from?” asked Hammond, brow furrowed.

“Exactly,” said Jack, thrusting his finger out. “Sir,” he continued, “the only other person who knows about Abydos is Carter—and Jolinar.”

“Are you suggesting that she lied to us?” asked Hammond.

“I don’t think Carter had anything to do with it,” said Jack, frowning. “I had my doubts then, I think they’re proven right now. Jolinar didn’t know we’d give Kasuf a way to contact us, so she let all her little Goa’uld buddies know that Abydos was free game. Maybe it was a compromise so she could get their help to take us out at the next meeting.”

Hammond frowned deeply, not saying anything for a moment. “Doctor Jackson, why aren’t you saying anything?”

Daniel looked up. “General sir, I don’t know what to think here. I faced Jolinar—Sam even, maybe—and she didn’t strike me as that dangerous.”

“Isn’t it a good possibility that that was her goal?” asked Hammond.

“Yes sir,” said Daniel, but not confidently or convincingly. “It’s just—it’s all speculation, and it doesn’t exactly match with how I saw things. I’m not saying I’m right, but I’m not ready to admit that I was wrong.”

“The thing is, we won’t know for sure,” said Jack, turning from Daniel to Hammond. “We’ll show up at that meeting, and who knows what Jolinar will do.”

“That’s not the most major issue, Colonel,” said Hammond. “What’s more important is, we’ve let this go on too long.”

Jack’s eyebrows raised, and he looked to Daniel, who had nothing to offer, and then back to Hammond. “Hmm?”

“Jolinar’s possession of Captain Carter is a danger to more than just this base,” said Hammond, resting his hands on the table. “We should have recognized before that her knowledge of this program’s dealings is not something we want to risk. Whether she did orchestrate this attack on Abydos or not, we can’t risk the chance in the future.”

Jack sat for a moment, then nodded. “What I said from the beginning,” he muttered.

“What are we going to do, then?” asked Daniel.

“Jolinar will be taken into custody at the scheduled negotiations,” said Hammond.

“Wait, isn’t that breaking foreign policy law, to do that at a parley?” spoke up McKay, raising his hand slightly.

“Sir, that’s hardly the way to approach diplomacy, if Jolinar was telling the truth,” agreed Daniel, frowning.

“If this Jolinar was telling the truth, then she will understand if we make a mistake,” said Hammond. “But I’m afraid that at this time, it appears to be a much larger chance that she wasn’t.”

“The guys at the Pentagon won’t like this,” commented Dixon.

“They don’t have to know until it’s over,” said Jack.

“Agreed,” said Hammond. He paused. “Gentlemen, I think we’ve discussed this enough. You may retire—and Colonel? I’ll deal with your court-martial later.”

“Yes sir,” said Jack, nodding. He and Dixon stood as Hammond rose to depart.

“Next mission on hold then?” asked Dixon as the two left together.

“So you really think it was all coincidence?” asked McKay when the other two were gone.

Daniel looked to him, to Teal’c, and then back at his own hands. “I want to hope that,” he said quietly. “I want to hope that my wife was rescued, that there might be a chance for my brother, and that my father was taken accidentally. But I wanted to hope that Sha’re could resist Amonet and return to me on her own. I wanted to hope that Abydos was forgotten by Apophis forever, and that it would be a safe haven for me and Sha’re once we were together again.” He sighed. “I’ve wanted to hope in many false things.”

McKay eyed him skeptically, but didn’t say anything. Daniel hoped that meant he was beginning to understand when Daniel did or didn’t want to talk. But with McKay, it could be accidental.

“DanielJackson,” said Teal’c, as he also rose from the table, looking Daniel straight in the eye. “Do not lose sight of the hopes that have not been false—we have defeated Apophis beyond all reason, with only hope on our side.”

Daniel smiled weakly. “Yeah, I’ll have to work on that. There’s a large record of failures to be tempered by so few successes.”

“You know, I think all this bad luck is due to the missions we get,” commented McKay, still sitting by Daniel.

Teal’c paused by the door, one eyebrow rising.

“Well somebody’s letting SG-3 go to the nice primordial and prehistoric planets, and we get the potentially dangerous ones,” said McKay.

“McKay, you realize we can’t actually go to a prehistoric planet,” said Daniel, rising with a slight sigh. “Prehistoric means—oh never mind.”

“What would we do on such worlds, DoctorMcKay?” asked Teal’c.

“Not get in trouble,” said McKay, in an obvious tone. “Seriously, if I had known the string of luck that would follow this team, the fear for my life would have kept me away. Do you realize how often we could have been killed?”

“Actually, we have been killed once,” commented Daniel, closing his file.

“Really?” asked McKay frowning.

“We have always survived, DoctorMcKay,” said Teal’c as the other two followed him out of the room. “Our individual fortunes cannot entirely combat our good fortune when we work together.”

McKay shrugged. “Yeah, that might be true.”

Daniel looked to Teal’c, who gave him an encouraging twitch of the mouth—or that’s how Daniel read it, not completely fluent in Teal’c-ese even now. Even taking into account what had happened to Sam, Teal’c was right—they were a team, and they were a good one, and they made it through to the next day. He just hoped they could do more than that; he hoped that they could live well and not just survive, and there would need to be a string of fortunate occurrences to start that.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18 - Conflict

Sam and Jolinar woke well before the Tok’ra made contact again. Halfway to the gate, sneaking through the woods, they heard the signal.

“What is it?” whispered Jolinar as she drew the small sphere out, the quiet for protocol rather than necessity.

“Again we receive no news from Abydos. The Council has agreed that you may investigate today.”

“Understood,” said Jolinar, putting the ball back in her pocket.

~We don’t need to gate back, then, we can just gate to Abydos,~ said Sam.

*Indeed,* said Jolinar.

The Jaffa on this planet were once again not holding a position by the gate, and Sam and Jolinar made it easily past. Jolinar punched in the symbols for Abydos, and watched as they lit up. The seventh one locked and there was a kawoosh, which gave Sam a little hope. If it was a technical difficulty, it still hadn’t affected the gate itself—perhaps the DHD was broken on the other end.

They walked through.

*Perhaps you were right,* said Jolinar, standing in the gate room and surveying the broken-down aspects.

~No, I wasn’t,~ said Sam. ~Look, there’s the DHD right there, and it doesn’t look harmed.~

Jolinar stood, walked over, and pressed a few keys. It responded normally. *That at least you are right about.*

~So why didn’t they send a response?~ asked Sam. ~And why is the gate near all this rubble? Where is everyone?~

Jolinar frowned, reaching for her zat gun. Her stance lowered a little as she went on edge. *Look, corpses.*

They crossed the floor to the pillars. ~Those are Jaffa,~ said Sam, worriedly. ~But there are some Abydonians too.~

*Heru’ur’s Jaffa,* said Jolinar. *As an enemy of Apophis, he must have heard that Amonet was here.*

~But why would there be a fight?~ asked Sam.

*Come,* said Jolinar. Passing the bodies, and noting that many more Jaffa than Abydonians were among them, they left the pyramid.

~I don’t see anyone below us,~ said Sam.

It was late afternoon on Abydos, and a barely-there warm breeze brought only the dry scent of dust and sand as they quickly moved down into the village.

*Wait,* said Jolinar, stopping by one of the Jaffa and crouching to turn him over. *This is not of Heru’ur, this is of Quetesh.*

~Another Goa’uld?~ asked Sam.

*Yes, and not allied with Heru’ur or Apophis—she is identified with Ba’al.* Jolinar’s tone held more than fact alone.

~Ba’al...the one who captured our ship?~

*Yes,* said Jolinar. She frowned, looking at the emblem. *It is possible that he was able to locate this world by using the ship’s log, but why not immediately?*

~Who is Quetesh to Ba’al?~ asked Sam.

*He prefers to think of her as his queen, but she is his ally only for her own convenience,* said Jolinar.

~So she might steal his planets?~ asked Sam.

Jolinar caught on quickly, and continued walking through the village, marking each of the Jaffa as they lay, some of Heru’ur and of Quetesh. *Ba’al may not consider this world worthy of his grand plans, but Quetesh is resourceful. She must have come to take it for her own, just as Heru’ur came to find Amonet; they met and collided, each thinking the other meant to thwart their goal.*

~And what happened to the Abydonians?~ asked Sam.

*They were not killed, so far as I can see,* said Jolinar. *These dwellings are still intact, with only a few staff blasts that were probably accidental.* She paused to rest her hand on one. *It is likely that they were taken captive.*

Before Sam could answer, Jolinar stood at the edge of the village on the ridge, and they both stood for a second in shock. Below them were many more dead Jaffa, but even more prominent was the huge black mark on the sand where something had exploded. And it was bigger than anything on Abydos, which implied only one thing.

*A ship,* said Jolinar.

~What does that mean?~ asked Sam.

*There were too many people to be transported on one ship, so it is unlikely that all were destroyed, but...*

Sam got the hint. ~We don’t know how the battle ended, who won.~

*We don’t know anything,* corrected Jolinar. *We can guess looking at these miniscule signs, but it means nothing.*

~So what do we do?~ asked Sam. ~Go after them both?~

There was no answer from Jolinar, and Sam thought she knew the hold-up.

~These are Sha’re’s people,~ said Sam. ~And it was through rescuing her for the Tok’ra that Ba’al and Quetesh found out about this place.~ She paused. ~But no, attempting this rescue is more than a hit-and-run, and the Tok’ra don’t ever do that lightly, do they?~

*It is true that we might be considered responsible for this,* said Jolinar. She said nothing, standing still with a tight jaw. *We will not find anything more useful here,* she concluded after a moment.

~Home then?~ said Sam. ~We will have to tell Sha’re.~

*Believe me, I do not relish the thought,* said Jolinar sharply, striding back up the hill towards the pyramid.

ooooooo

“No, seriously, there is some sort of residual energy on this,” said McKay, flipping the object around in his hands as he sat on Daniel’s desk.

“Rodney, SG-8 established that it was part of a device, but I’m sure it’s ornamental,” said Daniel, reaching for it from his comfortable seat.

“And if it’s not?” asked McKay.

“You think I’m going to break it?” asked Daniel in response.

McKay paused. “You who keeps every rock safe no matter how relevant? No, no, I don’t think you’ll break it. But this energy—it might mean something.”

“I thought we agreed not to bring up your disdain of archaeology,” commented Daniel.

“I don’t disdain it!” protested McKay. “But there’s a time and a place, and it’s hardly a science anyways.”

“Your devices for studying this energy might harm the writing on it,” said Daniel, rolling his eyes and dropping the other point.

“And your tools will most certainly disrupt any energy,” said McKay.

Daniel sighed, putting one hand to his forehead.

“Looks like fun,” said Dixon dryly, strolling in with arms crossed. “You two ready to knock it out of each other?”

McKay rolled his eyes at the man. “Unlike some, we intellectuals don’t see the need to resort to physical violence.”

“Need, no, want, maybe,” muttered Daniel.

Dixon chuckled, then added seriously: “Hey, I know the last few days have been kind of hard on us. And I heard you were thinking about talking to my wife about a team night with us, and since my kids want to meet you, well...”

“Well what?” asked McKay.

“You want to come over tonight?” asked Dixon.

“Really?” asked Daniel, looking up, the lines in his forehead fading just a little.

“Yeah, really,” said Dixon, shrugging. “A good barbecue always puts things in context, which is something we probably need.”

“That actually sounds great,” said Daniel, sitting up and letting his hands rest in his lap.

“Sure, why not,” said McKay, a little pained and sarcastic, but not objecting.

“Assuming the Colonel can make it, we’re on,” said Dixon.

“Oh, there may be some issue about that,” came Jack’s dark voice.

Dixon turned around as Jack and Teal’c entered the lab.

“Hammond took the night to think over my punishment, and decided that a court martial was not nearly torturous enough,” said Jack. “I have to deal with the organization and paperwork involved in settling the Abydonians down on a new planet,” he said with groan.

“Joy,” said Dixon, wincing.

“How would Teal’c say it, “Indeed”?” said Jack, his weary eyebrows still able to perform a sarcastic rise.

“There’s a few thousand of them, but surely the Alpha site would be suitable,” said Daniel.

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we,” said Jack. “But what do I need to be available for?”

“Team night, my house, BYOB&M barbecue,” said Dixon. “You in?”

“Sure,” said Jack. “As long as we get to talk about boring, everyday, insignificant things.” That last comment could have been in a lighter tone, Daniel thought, had recent events been otherwise.

“I also shall be honored to visit your home and your family,” said Teal’c with a nod of his head.

“You got kids?” asked Jack.

“Yup, three,” said Dixon. “You don’t mind kids, right?”

Jack snorted. “Kids are the best people in the world, Dave.”

“Well, mine sure are,” said Dixon with a rough grin. “Sounds good, then. See you all at 1830.”

“What’s this?” asked Jack, grabbing the bit of metal and stone from McKay.

“A device,” said McKay.

“An artifact,” said Daniel at the same time.

“Never mind,” said Jack, putting it quickly down on the table.

“I guess we should leave you two to your argument then,” said Dixon.

“Dave, wanna help me with the paperwork?” asked Jack hopefully.

“That an order, sir?” answered Dixon, already standing at the door.

“Does it have to be?” asked Jack.

“Yes, sir,” said Dixon with a grin.

Jack sighed. “Never mind, then. Teal’c?”

“I am not sure of what use I would be to you, ColonelO’Neill,” said Teal’c.

“Come on, I’ll show you,” said Jack, leading him out and leaving Daniel and Rodney to their own.

“Okay, here’s a deal,” said Daniel, leaning forward again. “I get to make a detailed photograph, and then you get to have it for the rest of the day—you can’t find anything, then I get it back.”

McKay sighed. “Fine.”

ooooooo

Returning to the Tok’ra home-world, Shan’ak, the Tok’ra who nearly always dialed the gate for them, did not ask Jolinar or Sam anything about what they had seen. But since they swept past him with a brooding face, and since it was not his place to know, that was hardly a wonder. Martouf and Lantash were not so silent, as soon as they caught sight of Jolinar.

“What is wrong?” asked Martouf, after a chaste kiss as they met in the halls.

“Everything,” said Jolinar, but pausing to stay a moment before continuing on.

“Was there any issue with our base on Kreola?” asked Martouf, watching her face closely.

“No, on Abydos,” answered Jolinar.

Martouf put a hand on Jolinar’s. “Sha’re’s people?” he asked, concerned.

“All gone, taken by the Goa’uld,” said Jolinar. She sighed. “Both Heru’ur and Quetesh seemed to be in dispute over the planet.”

“This is ill news for all,” said Martouf, his face darkening. “I did not think Quetesh had that much power.”

“Nor did I,” said Jolinar. Her frown deepened. “I have been out of touch.”

“But for Sha’re as well, of course,” said Martouf. “Will you tell her soon?”

“There is no purpose in waiting,” said Jolinar. “I must speak to the Council soon on the matter in any case, so she would find out then.”

“The Council?” asked Martouf. “Why?”

“To discuss what course of action to take in this matter,” said Jolinar.

“This is but information, what course of action is there to take?” asked Martouf, confused.

“I am duty bound to help find these people,” said Jolinar, looking up at him. Sam could almost feel the slow burning fire emanating from her eyes. “Sha’re is under our protection, mine and Samantha’s, and it was by our actions that her people were put at risk from Quetesh, even if Heru’ur was separate.”

Martouf looked down at her, a little stunned and perhaps unsure of how much approval to express—Sam at least could not tell. He closed his eyes and Lantash spoke next. “Jolinar?” he asked warningly. “I know that you feel for these people, but we cannot commit to helping every misfortune. This may not even be connected to you.”

“Then I will not do so,” said Jolinar. “But once is not every.”

“But what is your motivation for this time?” continued Lantash, pressing.

Sam remained silent, just as interested in her answer, but Jolinar gave none. She pressed her lips together, her eyes firmly resting on a point just below Lantash’s chin, and said nothing. Sam couldn’t even hear one thought.

Lantash sighed after a moment, and returned control to Martouf. “Jolinar, I do not understand why you insist on this, but you must know that the Council will not approve.”

“Sometimes, Martouf, it does not matter what the Council says,” said Jolinar firmly.

Martouf smiled faintly at her, and bent to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I hope your passion is well placed,” he said. “And that is all I will say on this.”

Jolinar leaned into his kiss a little. “It is my duty to try.”

“I am sorry for both Sha’re and Samantha that this has happened—it will be my hope that this turns out well,” he said.

Jolinar’s tense mouth gave him a hint of a smile, and then she continued on her way.

Sam wanted to say something, ask the same questions that Martouf and Lantash had asked only with less disapproval and more curiosity, but she knew better than to press that point. Instead, she turned to something said that she had grasped and held on to early in the conversation.

~Are you familiar with Quetesh?~ asked Sam. ~More than usual, I mean? You seemed to know what her character was like, and implied that you had once been in contact.~

*Yes.*

~What, that’s it?~ asked Sam. ~Come on Jol, this is getting ridiculous.~

*What is, the fact that I do not wish to tell you everything about myself?* said Jolinar, nearly snapping. *Oh yes, very ridiculous indeed!*

~I don’t need to know everything,~ said Sam. ~I wasn’t asking for that, just a little more than you gave.~

*Let me be the judge of what is too much to ask,* said Jolinar, and then fell silent.

Sam sighed, and grudgingly filed it away for later. Today was not the day for arguments anyway.

They made it to the infirmary, and were glad to find that Sha’re had been moved to a more private area, as private as the Tok’ra ever got. She was sitting up in bed with Shifu snuggled in her arms, looking worlds better than before physically, but her mood clearly pissed. Eyes smoldering, lips in a tight line, her rocking of Shifu a little less than smooth and gentle—and it was easy to tell the cause.

Anise was at the foot of her bed in one of her less-than-generic outfits, her own look serious and urgent but not yet frustrated.

“He has been in this world only four days, and yet you cannot wait?” asked Sha’re, incredulous.

“If there is any possible danger, we should act before it becomes necessary,” said Anise earnestly. “We cannot know how long it will take.”

“There is nothing to learn,” protested Sha’re. “He is a child, no different from hundreds of others I have seen.”

“He has all the knowledge of the symbiotes who conceived him,” said Anise bluntly. “It is possible that it will not express itself for months, even years, but it will do no harm to check.”

“How dare you!” said Sha’re. “Leave me be, for a week at least! He is my child as well, and I will not have him treated so.”

Anise looked about ready to depart, but she paused to say, “It will not be a choice eventually.”

“Do not treat me as ignorant or mindless,” said Sha’re, nearly growling out the words. “Do you think I know not what danger there may be? But I will not be as unfeeling as you wish me to be. Now go!”

Anise barely nodded her head before walking out, not giving Jolinar and Sam even a slight glance.

Sha’re finally saw them, and her face relaxed a little. “Sa’m, Jolinar, come please,” she said.

“She is not the most pleasant of us,” commented Jolinar, coming to Sha’re’s side.

“No?” asked Sha’re, a tight little tilt of her head.

“No,” said Jolinar. Then, with a sigh, “But I am continually assured that she does not mean ill. I am not sure I believe it.”

“Oh, I do not doubt the soundness of her reason,” said Sha’re. She reached out to touch Jolinar’s hand, “But please, clear my mind of such thoughts, for I do not wish to dwell on them anymore.”

Jolinar glanced down at Sha’re’s friendly touch, but neither said nor did anything about it. Instead, she looked back up at Sha’re’s request, and tried to hide a wince. They had nothing good to bring.

~Ask her about Shifu,~ prompted Sam.

“Other than being threatened by our less congenial members, your son looks well,” said Jolinar, nodding towards Shifu’s fuzzy dark head.

“Mm, so I think and hope,” said Sha’re, giving a little smile. “Would you like to hold him?”

Jolinar’s eyebrows rose a little, and she hesitated for a second. Sam wondered if she had ever held a child before—did Tok’ra have children? “I would be honored,” Jolinar finally said.

Sha’re smiled, and offered the tiny bundle to Jolinar. Taking him into a secure hold, Jolinar looked down at the baby with a deep appreciation. “He does look well,” she said, imitating Sha’re and putting a slight rock into her hold. “But is he not hungry?”

“Oh, is he suckling his thumb again?” asked Sha’re, leaning over to look. “He does that continually, but for a small babe it is fine. He has already fed well today, so I do not know why he does it.”

“Hmm,” acknowledged Jolinar, still looking at Shifu as she held him. Sam felt a relaxation and contentment begin to flow through Jolinar, but Sam herself felt the warmth and pleasure that children had often given her. She had never been quite ready to have any of her own, but she could not deny that she was very fond of them, at all ages. Perhaps Jolinar felt similar feelings, but was still worried about Abydos at this time—she wasn’t even smiling.

“Are you well?” asked Sha’re, looking up at Jolinar. “Did your mission go as planned?”

Jolinar looked up, slowing her rocking until it stopped. “It did,” she said. “Exactly as expected.”

“But you are not pleased,” said Sha’re.

Jolinar bit the inside of her lower lip, and gave Shifu one last look before handing him back to his mother. Sha’re’s brow creased as she accepted Shifu back, and though he fussed a little at being rustled again so shortly, he was calm in a moment. “Jolinar?” she pressed.

~There is no need to hedge around it for her sake,~ said Sam.

*I know that, and I had no intention to do it,* answered Jolinar shortly.

“Our planned mission caused no trouble,” she said aloud. “It was the errand on the way back.” Taking a breath, she dove in. “We had not yet contacted Abydos to convey your recovery to your father, first because you were still in critical condition, but yesterday when we tried to dial we couldn’t connect.”

Sha’re’s face went a little darker. “Yes?”

“We dialed this morning, but there was no response,” said Jolinar. “Samantha and I went through to investigate, but there was no one on the planet. No one alive.”

Sha’re went pale, and stiffened.

“Your people are not dead,” Jolinar went on quickly. “The village was intact, but there was no one but the corpses of dead Jaffa and marks that a Goa’uld ship exploded.”

“What is this?” Sha’re whispered, all the health fading from her face.

Jolinar took a step closer, her face showing all the worry she had just recently tried to hold in. “There were two Goa’uld fighting on Abydos, but they were not fighting against your people. One of them was an ally of Ba’al, the other one an enemy of Apophis—it is our fault that Ba’al and any of his allies knew about your world. It appears as if your people were taken captive, but by which one we don’t know.”

Sha’re’s head dipped, hiding the welling of her eyes. “Mai’tac,” she murmured, barely audibly.

Jolinar stood, not sure what to do next. “We will do what is in our power to find them, I swear to you,” she said quietly. “It was our recklessness that led to this, it will be ours to make it right.”

“You will bring my father back to me,” said Sha’re, looking up with a lone wet streak down her cheek.

“Yes,” said Jolinar.

“I will hold you to that,” said Sha’re, the barest hint of a tremble in her voice.

~May I?~ asked Sam. Jolinar silently closed her eyes and transferred control. “Sha’re, I am so sorry,” Sam said, reaching for Sha’re’s hand.

“It is not all your fault,” Sha’re said softly, not rejecting Sam’s hand. She looked up, meeting Sam’s pained look. “It is but more of the evil in this life, striking out against those I love.”

Sam’s eyes shut for a moment, and she squeezed Sha’re’s hand. “We’ll fix this,” she said. “We can’t let them do this to us.”

Sha’re shook her head lightly, a tear falling from her chin onto Shifu’s head where she brushed it off with a finger. “No,” she agreed.

“We will fight,” said Jolinar, coming forward again and looking Sha’re square in the eye.

There was a pause, and a little of Sha’re’s color returned after the shock. She looked down at Shifu, and stroked his head again as if another tear had fallen. Then, taking a deep breath, she looked back up. “I wish to be alone with my son now,” she said in a steady voice.

Jolinar nodded, bowing her head a little and turning away. “Be well,” she said, just as Sam was about to ask for a farewell.

“I will,” Sha’re answered.

Then they left her. Jolinar had not planned where to go, so for a few moments they stood in the hall outside the infirmary, darkly brooding.

~I hated that,~ said Sam, giving her gut reaction without extra thought or words.

*Never again,* swore Jolinar. *I do not ever again want to see such a face, cause such a face with such news.*

~We’re agreed on this, then?~ asked Sam. ~Look for them no matter what the Council says?~

*We shan’t even ask the Council,* said Jolinar. *They must know of what happened, but I shall not make the request knowing that it would be denied. And if by chance, our missions take longer than scheduled, there will be plenty of plausible reasons to offer for it—they will not be suspicious.*

Sam almost responded with a dark half-laugh. ~Moonlighting, then.~

*I am not familiar with that usage,* said Jolinar. *But it does not matter.*

~What about Martouf and Lantash?~

Jolinar paused, saying nothing.

Sam took that moment to wonder a few things. Why Jolinar had let herself care for Sha’re, to the point where she was ready to protect even her feelings; if Martouf and Lantash knew all of Jolinar’s secrets, and if theirs was a truly open relationship; what exactly the nature of this mission was, and how the Tok’ra would consider it if they found out.

Jolinar did not spend long thinking, though. *If they ask, I will not evade or deceive,* she said. *But though they might feel duty-bound to disapprove and report, I cannot lie to them.*

Sam agreed, glad to have that cleared up. ~And now?~

*Nothing important can be done now, as you know,* Jolinar said. *So what do you think is next?*

~Bath, food, bed,~ said Sam, sighing. ~I shall be glad of them all.~

Jolinar agreed, and they made their way accordingly. Today was yet another long day that indicated more to come.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19 - Moonlighting

Martouf was surprised when Jolinar told him that she was departing a day early to prepare for the mission to escort Dru’ri and Reyfa to the latest Goa’uld outpost that they had recovered. Jolinar said shortly that she just wanted all the options to be covered, though, and nothing more was said.

Once through the gate, it didn’t take long to see the type of mission they would be dealing with.

~So now?~ asked Sam. She and Jolinar had spent their day of rest contemplating the situation, and had determined that Heru’ur would be their first priority. As a powerful enemy of Apophis, it did not seem likely that he wished to take Abydos; Quetesh, on the other hand, had few slaves or worlds. If they could eliminate Heru’ur from the list, things would be much simpler.

Jolinar drew out the notepad device with all the latest information that the Tok’ra sent with their operatives. A few touches to the screen, and up came an interactive map of the worlds that Heru’ur controlled.

~Wow,~ said Sam, for a moment overcome by the vastness of just this one Goa’uld’s domination. And the SGC thought to destroy all the Goa’uld?

*We need not look at all of this,* said Jolinar, flicking a few buttons and switches to narrow the parameters. *The Tok’ra do not usually put operatives on slave worlds unless there is reason to suspect a strategy involving them, but we do know their locations.* She brought up a few, scanning the most recent reports on activities, but found nothing.

~So are we going to watch all these for news of the arrival of new prisoners?~ asked Sam.

*Yes,* said Jolinar. *These worlds have not had a change in many months, so anything new would be of interest to us. Of those worlds where there are no Tok’ra, though, we will have to be more active.*

~Well, can we assume that after three days there will be something?~ asked Sam. Jolinar gave a wordless response. ~Right, there would be no point in moving them from place to place unless they were high risk or of bigger importance.~

Jolinar copied down the remaining addresses and moved into the tree-line. Opening the case that she had brought for this mission, she pulled out the uniform of a Goa’uld underling and began to change into it. This one was less “god-like” and more subservient; high-ranking servants would not be sent to a slave world, nor were they to be found there.

After squeezing the black skirted long-coat over body-tight black pants and sleeveless vest, Sam gave a little sigh and then gave herself over to being part of yet another role. Jolinar took a moment to accustom herself to the outfit and all it signified, then put the case into a secure location and walked back to the DHD. Sam had to admit, this outfit was less regal than last time but it felt almost comfortable.

Jolinar dialed the gate, and soon they were through.

Abruptly, Sam was glad that she had buried her mind behind Jolinar’s, as she saw how vast the settlement on this world was. It had never crossed her mind to think of how many slaves each Goa’uld would need to keep up a life like that, not only for necessities but for all the construction of ships and bases. All this time they had been focused on the Jaffa, or the populations of a few worlds, nothing beyond that. This gate had, oddly enough, been set up on a small hillock in a valley probably twenty or more miles wide. It was shallow and nearly flat, but as it curved towards the top every dwelling could be seen, and there were thousands of them.

*This place does not serve a huge purpose in the Goa’uld structure,* commented Jolinar. *They are probably artisans, or possibly this could be merely a breeding colony.*

Ambling her way forward, slightly swinging her arms along with the leather coat, Jolinar approached the nearest Jaffa leader, affecting an ease along with her elegance.

He bowed his head. “We were not expecting one of you,” he said.

“Then there is no recent development of any kind?” asked Jolinar, glancing over the valley.

“None, as expected,” said the Jaffa. “Is not the scheduled appearance in many weeks?”

“Our lord does not subscribe to mere mortal schedules,” said Jolinar with a lazy smile. “That is all.” This being finished, she walked past him to the DHD and dialed out.

*Strike one,* she said.

Sam would have raised her eyebrows in appreciation if she could. This could work.

The next planet was composed of large farming plots, and the Goa’uld servant in charge ogled Jolinar quite thoroughly before revealing that, no, there was no news to report. Sam could feel that, had she not considered the mission more important, Jolinar would gladly have ended his eyesight for good.

There were only a few more of Heru’ur’s worlds that were solely devoted to his slaves, and on all of them Jolinar and Sam struck blank. Even after making a few more dangerous trips onto other more likely worlds, it seemed that Heru’ur was doing nothing but preparing for war.

*It is a shame that we cannot reveal these findings to the Tok’ra,* said Jolinar. *Our operatives have not the ability to make such a tour as we have; it would be of use for them to understand the broader scenario. But it must be lost.*

By the end of the day, they returned to the original world with absolutely nothing. ~We didn’t check everywhere, I know, but Heru’ur didn’t seem like a big possibility in the first place from what you’ve said,~ said Sam as they settled down for the night, once again in Tok’ra garb.

Jolinar said nothing.

~What is it?~ asked Sam.

*In some fashion, I had wished for the solution to be with Heru’ur,* said Jolinar.

~Why?~ asked Sam, tired but leaping at the chance for Jolinar to be open without being forced to be so.

*For one, Heru’ur would not have been so careful about a mere few thousand new slaves,* said Jolinar, lying back on the mat under the stars. *And infiltrating Quetesh’s dominion will prove more difficult; she has only a few servants, and they will likely be known to her Jaffa.*

~And?~ asked Sam.

*There is no and,* said Jolinar.

~Really?~

*I am weary, Samantha, and I wish to rest.*

Sam sighed. ~All right, then. Reyfa will be here early tomorrow, and she may be suspicious if we look tired. But Jolinar, I don’t know what you’re so secretive about, but I think I’ll need to know it someday.~

*And I hope you will not need to,* said Jolinar.

Nothing further to say, they both fell sleep almost immediately.

ooooooo

Daniel had to admit, of all of his teammates, McKay was the best one to get stuck with for a long period of time. No, he had to quantify that—as long as McKay had something to do. The night out with Dixon and his family had gone over well. Dixon had two sons and a daughter, all under eight, and they had been all over the team. Jack had ended up playing soccer with James and Bobby Dixon, and Abby had gravitated between Teal’c and McKay—putting makeup on the former’s bald head, and working at getting reactions from the latter. Daniel had been surprised but not displeased, and had spent most of the evening either observing the hijinks or talking with Dixon’s wife Clara.

The only unfortunate repercussion had been that Abby Dixon, who had enjoyed climbing up on McKay’s lap and giggling at his disturbed and uncomfortable faces, had also been carrying a light virus. McKay hadn’t noticed anything the day after, but after Dixon’s revelation this morning he had become frantic with worry—so much so that his scientific comrades evicted him from the lab. Not because he was contagious, but because his frequent temperature taking and downing of vitamins drove them nuts.

Daniel had offered sanctuary in his own lab, which though McKay balked at the dustiness that could aggravate any symptoms, he eventually accepted out of necessity. Daniel could pretty much ignore him, unlike when Jack or Teal’c hung around. Jack, because Daniel kept looking up to see him juggling his paperweights or poking at things on the shelves. Teal’c, because his absolute stillness and silence were worse than noise.

While Daniel was looking at more of the text from the device that had skewered Jack’s shoulder in the gate room, he had no idea what McKay was up to. Whatever it was, that tablet computer of his was getting a lot of work.

There was a knock on the door, and Dixon walked in as soon as Daniel looked up. “Thought I’d find him here,” he said, nodding towards McKay.

“Yes, what?” asked McKay without looking from his work.

“Phone call,” said Dixon, nodding to the wall phone.

“Really?” asked McKay.

“No, I have an alien device that measures energy,” said Dixon dryly.

McKay didn’t answer, but instead grabbed a disinfectant wipe from the container near him and used it to pick up the phone.

“Yes, hello?” asked McKay, putting it just next to his ear.

Daniel watched, and saw as McKay’s face went confused and then bewildered all in a second.

“No, why?” he asked. Pause. “I don’t do dancing.”

Daniel’s eyebrow rose, and he looked to Dixon in a little confusion.

“Yes, well, we probably have a mission that day too,” continued McKay. He listened for a moment. “Um, maybe? Look, we can talk about it then, right? Okay. Okay. No, I won’t forget. I promise. Okay. Bye.” He hung up and put the newly clean phone back on its stand.

“Who was that?” asked Daniel.

“Abby,” said Dixon, shrugging. “She has extra tickets for her dance recital.”

“She’s two!” said McKay. “How can she have a dance recital at two?”

Ignoring McKay, Dixon shook his head and walked out.

Daniel, a little surprised, just sat for a moment. While it had been no surprise that McKay’s tone had been half-sighing, he still treated her with more respect than 90% of the world.

“I don’t get kids,” muttered McKay, dropping the wipe into the trash can next to him.

“She likes you,” commented Daniel, going back to work.

“And I don’t get that,” said McKay. “How is it that the only women who like me are too young and ones I tried to avoid?”

“Fate,” said Daniel. He looked up to meet McKay’s look, blinking innocently.

McKay got the joke finally, and then just sighed and looked back down at his work. Daniel half-smiled to himself.

ooooooo

The gate activated early in the morning as the fog still lay on the forested valley, and Reyfa came through with a wide grin on her face. Like Jolinar, she was in the traditional off-world gear of a Tok’ra but carried an extra case of equipment.

Jolinar stepped forward, and then stopped short. Right behind Reyfa, Anise came through the gate before it shut down with a final last flash.

“Everything good?” asked Reyfa.

“I did not know that Anise would be joining us,” said Jolinar, barely refraining from a frown. “Why am I needed if you are already accompanied?”

Anise stepped forward, her own off-world gear a little more fitting than the Tok’ra usually preferred, but nothing compared to her on-base dress. She was almost as tall as Sam, but held herself so that she looked Jolinar in the eye. “It was a last minute change—of no problem, I assume, unless you are a stickler to the plan, which would certainly be breaking type.”

“It was only a question, not a protest,” said Jolinar in a steely tone, her own gaze just as cool on Anise.

“I only come because my previous project ended early and this seemed like it would prove interesting,” said Anise with a light sigh. “I cannot imagine why you chose to be the escort.”

Jolinar did not give an answer.

“How did you find everything yesterday?” asked Reyfa, breaking the film of tension between her two companions.

“The terrain is steep but solid,” said Jolinar. “There is shade and a firmly packed trail that winds sufficiently.”

“That’s good,” said Reyfa smiling. “How is Samantha?”

~I’m fine,~ informed Sam.

“She is well,” said Jolinar. “Dru’ri?”

“She does not enjoy travel,” admitted Reyfa, “but will be pleased once we get there, I am sure.”

“Freya was willing to let Reyfa do all the research on this matter,” commented Anise. “But as Reyfa herself said, the more minds the better—Freya was easily convinced.”

“Let us begin,” said Jolinar, waving with one hand to the tree-line.

This planet was once the site of a Goa’uld lab, or so the information said, but the rings that made the journey a matter of seconds had been ruined in an earthquake, leaving only the trail that the slaves had traveled. The lab could be seen far off, but it was a good ten or twelve miles of steep ground. And because the exact state of the planet and the trail was unknown, it was advised that no Tok’ra go alone.

“How far did you travel up the trail yesterday?” asked Reyfa as they began.

Jolinar half-lied without hesitation, “It would not have suited to check only the trail—but I did scan the general area and make a few readings.”

“I did not expect that you would take it so seriously,” commented Reyfa, adjusting how she carried her bags as the trail turned up the hill. “I was not aware that this was how you spent your missions.”

“It is not my first choice,” admitted Jolinar, keeping her long strides a little slower so as not to get ahead of Reyfa’s smaller step. Anise was a few steps ahead and did not join in, something that Jolinar seemed to passively appreciate.

They continued on for a while in silence. The trail was indeed well used but not well-kept, and there were several branches and logs to traverse. The forest around them was old and musty, the bracken deep on each side of the trail, and the buzz of mosquitoes just in the distance. At the moment the air was cool and not breezy, but if the clouds quickly burned off, Jolinar predicted that it could become stuffy.

After nearly a half an hour of silent travel, Sam nudged for Jolinar to let her take over. “Reyfa, do you know anything about the nature of what went on at this laboratory? Is there a reason why it was abandoned?”

Reyfa turned, her face lighting up at speech again. “Did not Jolinar tell you, Samantha?” she asked.

“Jolinar didn’t see reason to ask,” said Sam, smiling. “I trust there is some information?”

“Oh, we know a fair amount,” said Reyfa. “Our source implied only that it fell into disrepair, and since anything of grave importance would have been attended to, we can guess that it was of lesser importance to this Goa’uld.”

“Why are the Tok’ra interested, then?” asked Sam curiously.

“We do not have the same priorities as the Goa’uld,” said Reyfa with a slight shrug. “We cannot know how to judge its importance on such subjective information. This will only be a two day mission in any case.”

Sam nodded, hopping over the next small log. “I guess it’s a shame you don’t have the death gliders,” she said.

“Neither would the Goa’uld,” said Reyfa. “Only warriors are trained to fly them—or if by necessity the System Lords themselves.”

“Really?” asked Sam. “That seems a waste.”

Reyfa grinned. “Indeed.”

“Are you at all familiar with Goa’uld ships, Samantha?” asked Anise suddenly.

“Uh, yes,” said Sam. “I’ve flown in a death glider, actually.”

Anise turned her head to look back, one curved eyebrow rising significantly. “I assume you were not piloting?”

“No, why?” asked Sam.

“The proper skills take some time to learn, though admittedly the basic functions do not require intensive training,” said Anise. “It would not be efficient for either the Goa’uld or the Tok’ra to spend so much training time and expertise for those who may never need it.”

“Okay, yes, that makes some sense,” said Sam, helping Reyfa get her bags over a particularly large log. “But on Earth, all our teams had basic firearm training just in case, even though we don’t expect hostility on other planets.”

“You carry weapons to every new planet?” asked Anise, standing to wait for them a few steps beyond. “And you are not considered dangerous on sight?”

Sam smiled a little as all three walked on. “Our weapons do not look like Goa’uld weapons,” she said. “Unless we brandish them, most people don’t even notice.”

“And how often do you brandish them?” asked Anise.

“Well, that depends,” said Sam, frowning a little. “The team I was on, especially, had bad luck in that regard.”

“Hmm,” said Anise, and then nothing.

“What does that mean?” asked Sam curiously.

“I am wondering how much of that bad luck could have been avoided by a higher concentration of non-military personnel,” said Anise. “That is all.”

Sam could hear Jolinar begin to grumble a little. “You don’t like the military,” she said, not sure what she thought of Anise.

“They are useful, but only under certain circumstances,” said Anise. She turned her head to the trail ahead, and continued walking.

“Are you not military and scientist?” asked Reyfa, looking to Sam.

“Yes,” said Sam. “I guess it’s a little hard for me to think of them as separate.”

Reyfa had a thoughtful look, and then said nothing.

Apart from a few choice comments from Anise, or attempts at conversation from Reyfa, the rest of the day was silent with walking. The sun did rise, burning off the clouds, and soon tiny rivulets of sweat were running through Sam’s hair and down her neck. Reyfa’s crinkly hair grew a little limp, her steps less perky, and Sam ended up carrying one of her bags as well as Jolinar’s. Anise neither said nor showed any sign of tiring, and her hair still lay flat and shiny on her head. Jolinar had taken control again, and rolled her eyes at this observation from Sam.

After stopping at a stream for a quiet lunch break, they continued on a few more miles until they reached their destination. While there was a ziggurat type entrance and gate structure, most of the lab was dug into the hill behind. There was a simple keypad to open the door.

“Well, do we disable it?” asked Sam.

“No need,” said Anise, running her hand over the wall near the entrance. “There are writings here, clues for knowing the password.”

“Really?” asked Sam. “Why would the Goa’uld make it so easy?”

“It is not,” said Anise, tossing a glance at Sam. “Unless one knew advanced science, these clues would be gibberish.” A couple more minutes of looking at the text, and then Anise input an eight-digit code. Nothing happened. She input another one, though, and a blueish shield fell.

“So far so good,” said Reyfa.

Sam had to admit, by this point she was curious herself and not thinking about yesterday’s mission. The corridors were dark, but Reyfa and Anise had tiny Tok’ra versions of flashlights. There were a few corridors to various chambers, but it wasn’t a big complex. The first room was empty, but after looking around for a minute, Anise said that it had not always been so—it had been cleaned out. The second room was had a few machines, but the power was run down, and Reyfa opened her first case to begin work on getting them up and running. Jolinar and Anise continued on.

The third room appeared to be for communication, but there were more machines in the fourth room. Anise began exploring that one while Jolinar went to the last room. There was only one machine in this one, semi-circular and filling most of the back wall. The presence of a very large screen indicated some kind of computer, and Jolinar pressed a couple keys. It had barely any power left, and what came up appeared to be records of the workings of this base.

*As I expected.* said Jolinar with a sigh.

~We don’t know yet if they weren’t working on a weapon,~ said Sam.

*I didn’t say I was hoping for a weapon,* protested Jolinar.

~You didn’t have to,~ said Sam with a barely cheeky grin.

While the scientists worked on getting the base working again, Jolinar and Sam walked out to explore the nearby area. There was no path to the top of the hill, and when Jolinar reached the top there was nothing in any direction except the gate below. They stood for a moment, silent, listening. Even with the more attuned hearing of a Tok’ra, there was no sound anywhere. They saw a few birds flying, but none were singing.

*A very abandoned world,* said Jolinar. *Good—our presence will not last long.*

~But nothing to do, unless you let me join them,~ said Sam.

*Can you read Goa’uld?* asked Jolinar.

~Oh,~ said Sam. ~But I probably should learn, and now is as good as ever.~

*If Anise can tolerate your ignorance,* said Jolinar.

~I don’t have to work in her room. And she seems a little, well, I don’t know the right word,~ said Sam, ~but not enough that you should be so antagonistic towards her.~

*There are many decades of provocation, believe me,* said Jolinar.

~Well, that might make sense if she really doesn’t like the military,~ said Sam.

They stayed up on top for a while, letting the breeze cool their still-flushed face. The sun was at its highest, but it wasn’t too hot, especially in the cool cave-structure. The grass was mossy and warm, and they sat on it for a few minutes to soak up the sun. The warmth was much easier when there was a breeze to counter it, and when the sun’s rays were not diluted by a canopy of trees.

Later that afternoon, Sam asked Jolinar to help her with the Goa’uld. Even given that Jolinar was trying to be helpful, Sam grew frustrated after an hour. She just wasn’t Daniel. Leaving it, she went on to something more serious.

~Now what do we do about Quetesh?~

Jolinar sighed, but accepted the turn of subject. *It is true, I know more of Quetesh than most Goa’uld. As such, I believe I know how to gain my way onto her worlds. We shall try her slave worlds first, of course, and that will be easier.*

~Wait, first?~ asked Sam. ~Where else would the Abydonians be?~

*Quetesh is a god of perverse pleasures, so there is no telling to what purpose she will put them,* said Jolinar grimly.

Sam had to bite back a further question. ~Okay, so you have a plan.~

*A long shot, but yes,* said Jolinar. *We will speak of it further when the time comes.*

As there was nothing more for Jolinar to do, Sam went back down to the Goa’uld database to practice what Jolinar had taught her of Goa’uld. Not only was she having difficulty with the language itself, but the whole new alphabet. It didn’t help that this database was hardly at a third-grade reading level.

After a little while, before Sam had gotten completely frustrated again, Anise came into the chamber.

“Jolinar?” she said.

“Samantha, actually,” said Sam, turning around.

Anise nodded, a little bit of hardness on her face dissipating. “Good.”

“What’s your problem with Jolinar?” asked Sam.

“I do not understand,” said Anise swiftly, frowning.

“You two seem to have a bit of rivalry going on, which doesn’t quite make sense,” said Sam, her hand moving back and forth to indicate what she was talking about. She wasn’t being quite honest—she had a good idea, she just wanted to hear it from Anise.

“It is nothing personal,” said Anise lightly. “She is warrior, among other things, and I am not. Also our philosophies beyond those two points are often just as opposite.”

“Ah,” said Sam, nodding. “What did you come here to say?”

“You are not carrying your communication device,” said Anise, stepping forward and handing it to Sam. “The Tok’ra dialed the gate and tried to contact you.”

“Oh,” said Sam, taking it. “Thank you.”

“Perhaps it would be better to be careful next time?” said Anise with just a slightly raised eyebrow. She turned, and left the room.

~They probably want you,~ said Sam, giving control to Jolinar.

“Yes?” asked Jolinar into the device.

“We did not wish to disturb you on your mission,” came Ren’al’s voice through the Tok’ra radio.

“There is nothing to interrupt,” answered Jolinar.

“As we suspected, good,” continued Ren’al. “Then you should know, your next mission may be a little more engaging. You remember Cordesh, of course. We had removed him from his host and were attempting to access his memories, but he escaped custody by forcibly taking a host.”

Both Sam and Jolinar flinched. “And?” asked Jolinar.

“We know that he has not yet escaped the planet,” said Ren’al. “But we also know that he took supplies, and as a former member of the Council he is well aware of the layout of the planet. We expect that he is planning some sort of subterfuge or attack in order to reach the gate.”

“I will be there tomorrow, then,” said Jolinar after a second’s pause.

“That is most welcome,” said Ren’al. “Your first-hand knowledge of this type of operation will be useful.”

As Jolinar put the radio back in her pocket, she sighed a little. *There may be a slight delay in our other plans,* she said. *I had a feeling that we could not keep them up.*

~It won’t take too long, I’m sure,~ said Sam.

*You have not tried to track anyone before,* commented Jolinar. *Especially across a desert planet.*

Sam did have to agree on that point. For herself, she was willing to be patient for a little as they planned to rescue the Abydonians, but she didn’t know if that would last if she saw Sha’re again soon. She could only deal with one issue at a time, though, and so decided to face that bridge when she came to it. Which would be tomorrow. Time flew when there were missions to be undertaken.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20 - New Terrain

At the SGC, McKay was at last no longer concerned about getting sick, and quickly began moving his stuff out of Daniel’s lab. As he didn’t make any comments about it while doing it, though, Daniel considered it an all-around pleasant experience.

“Doctor McKay, Doctor Jackson,” said Hammond by introduction, stepping into the doorway.

Both men looked up at the same time, saying, “Yes?”

“Both of you came to me separately on the issue of staffing here at the SGC,” said Hammond, “and while I didn’t promise anything, I considered and discussed the issue with my superiors. After last year’s evaluation, it became clear that many disasters have been thwarted through the various scientific fields.”

McKay’s face lit up, but Daniel didn’t have enough information. “So what have you decided?”

“We will be recruiting more scientists in the following months, and would appreciate your recommendations for possible subjects,” said Hammond. “As you both know, your own participation was nearly accidental, but we hope to achieve equal results again through your advice.”

McKay frowned.

“You have a problem, Doctor McKay?” inquired Hammond.

“What criteria should we be considering?” asked McKay.

“Scientists with a knack for seeing outside the box, high up in their field,” said Hammond. “Use your judgment, with what you know from working here.”

“Yeah, that might be a problem,” murmured McKay.

Hammond nodded, and left the room.

“What is it?” asked Daniel to McKay.

“Oh, just that the reason I hated my colleagues before coming here was that they were close-minded and idiots,” said McKay simply. He paused. “Actually, things haven’t changed that much.”

Daniel held back from commenting on that last bit, and tried to ignore it. “I suppose that makes sense,” he said, leaning on his elbows on his desk. “It’s a strange job, you have to admit that.”

“Yeah, but how hard is it for archaeologists to learn that their myths are real?” asked McKay. “It’s trying to figure out how new elements and technologies work that really requires ingenuity.”

“Possibly,” said Daniel. “But the archaeological side is no piece of cake, I can tell you.”

“So what, you know of anyone you’d offer a job here?” asked McKay, picking up his final things and pausing on the way out the door.

“Not really,” admitted Daniel. “I was kind of shunned—the only people who I think might still be willing to believe me are my old archaeology professor and my grandfather. Otherwise, I’d have to make sure that the military didn’t say who made the recommendation when they send their guys.”

“Hm,” said McKay, a little distantly, and left the room.

Daniel didn’t have anything else he was doing at the moment, so his mind was easily led off track by Hammond’s request. He wasn’t sure he wanted to spend a lot of time thinking about his days back in the real world of archaeology, all the friends he had alienated, all the relationships he’d wittingly or unwittingly destroyed through his extreme passion and dedication to his theories. Not to mention all the abuse he’d faced from people he thought would have been more open. It hadn’t been a kind world, and even the kinder people in it had quietly faded out of his life.

Perhaps Dr. Jordan, though—Daniel hadn’t seen the man in nearly three years now, mostly out of cowardice in being unsure of how he’d be received. But he had always loved the man and thought he deserved to know that there was a bigger world out there, and he had a gut feeling that Dr. Jordan would love it too. Who knew, maybe he had some assistants who would be promising as well. Certainly Daniel remembered a couple.

Moving on to the business he had scheduled for today, Daniel’s last thought on the issue was that McKay’s choices would be far more interesting than his own. Daniel knew the man had layers beneath that crust of arrogance and paranoia, and he tried to keep an eye for when that crust might crack and reveal something. This looked like it might be one of those times.

ooooooo

By the time Sam and Jolinar made it back to the gate, the sun was high in the sky again and they were a little worn. It had been an easier trail going down, though, and they reached the home planet ready to start their next mission. First, though, there were duties.

Shifu was sleeping near Sha’re when they reached her room, and Sha’re herself was sitting up and reading a Tok’ra screen.

“Sa’m,” she said, lacking her usual smile. “Jolinar.”

Looking around to see that no one was near, Sam drew near to her. “Sha’re,” she said in a low tone. “We have been progressing in our search for your people, but we have only been able to do it without the knowledge of the Tok’ra.”

Sha’re’s eyes widened a little, but she nodded. “That is good.”

“We don’t know anything yet, but we haven’t hit a dead end either,” said Sam.

Sha’re sighed. “I see. But why are you returned so soon?”

“Jolinar’s skills are needed here,” said Sam with a little quirk of her mouth. “This one may take some time.”

“You will be nearby, though?” asked Sha’re.

“Not exactly,” said Sam. “How have you been?”

Sha’re’s head wobbled from side to side “Here and there,” she said. Looking down at her screen, she said, “I have been furthering my reading skills, though, and learning what the Tok’ra will let me of their history.”

Sam smiled. “Just think of all you’ll be able to tell Daniel.”

Sha’re gave a weak smile. “Yes, that will be very nice.”

“Jolinar sends her good wishes as well,” said Sam. There was an uncomfortable pause as neither knew how to end the conversation. Sha’re flashed a half-smile and then looked back to her screen, and Sam and Jolinar left.

Martouf and Lantash were not on the base that day, and so they continued on to meet with Ren’al in a small Tok’ra chamber.

“Jolinar, I am glad that you were able to return,” the older Tok’ra said on Sam’s arrival.

“Anything for the Tok’ra,” said Jolinar, but only Sam knew how ironically meant was that statement.

Ren’al nodded, bringing up a view screen in front of them. “Of all of us, you are most familiar with Goa’uld hunting tactics and avoiding them; our assumption is that Cordesh will base his escape and possible attacks on similar tactics.”

“A good assumption, but we will see in the fact,” commented Jolinar.

Ren’al nodded, pulling up the records from the night of the escape. The Tok’ra did not have security cameras, but through their various other forms of sensors they had been able to give a rough construct of what had happened. Cordesh had been restrained, had been sullen and unresponsive for the entirety of their weeks-long interrogation, and had suddenly and violently made his escape just two days ago by taking a new host and killing the symbiote inside. Kurlsa had been his name—neither had known him well.

Jolinar’s face grew grim as she looked and listened to the evidence. “He’s desperate,” she said. “Which means he’ll fall back to natural behavior instead of the facade he’s been portraying for the past years.”

Ren’al nodded. “That was our assessment.”

“Samantha and I will attempt to track him,” said Jolinar. “But if that fails, we shall patrol.”

Both Tok’ra nodded to each other, and Ren’al left Sam and Jolinar with the evidence.

~This is a desert planet, how can you track anyone?~ asked Sam.

*It is not your idea of tracking,* said Jolinar. *There is much more deduction and guesswork based on the idea of patterns and logic rather than actual evidence. Cordesh is intelligent and in possession of all his faculties, given by the steps he took to ensure his success. He took Sho’nar, a younger host, and various supplies.*

~So you’re saying, we should be able to guess where he’d go by guessing where anyone would go?~

*With a fair amount of doubling back where he tried to throw us off, I’m sure,* said Jolinar. *It will not be as easy as it may sound.*

~And our supplies?~ asked Sam.

*We will travel light,* said Jolinar. *Speed will be on our side, and quickness of thought.*

~Really?~ asked Sam. ~Why?~

*I have been trailed by ashraks for the past century—apart from knowing how to escape them, I know what to expect from others trying to escape,* said Jolinar darkly.

She downloaded all the relevant information into her small device and returned to her chamber to pack. No need to wait—they were fresh and ready to finish this once and for all. Jolinar packed only one change of clothes and a blanket that seemed almost suede in texture. Passing by the Tok’ra storehouse, she filled the rest of the space in the small pack with dried rations. Traditionally they were reconstituted with water, but Jolinar warned Sam that it would be difficult enough to find drinking water on this desert planet. Sam didn’t care; military rations might as well all be the same, and she didn’t have gourmet tastes.

Finally, though, they were ready to begin.

Ringing up to the surface, Jolinar first took a long look around. Sam could sense the naquadah of many Tok’ra nearby, but they were entirely out of sight. Security had been tightened, and they were not only here by the rings but in a thorough perimeter around the gate. It felt strangely comforting for that short moment as Jolinar scanned the surroundings.

Cordesh had taken off to the west and no one had followed him. Jolinar reached the edge of the Tok’ra patrol area and crouched down. There were a few bushes and brush-weeds here, but mostly just a plain of sand. The winds had blown any normal tracks away.

*Here is where things could go wrong.* Jolinar followed the horizon, looking at the slopes of the hills and dunes and the various ups and downs. Glancing down at the map, she noted where cliffs and water supply were greatest.

Sam waited and watched, until Jolinar moved.

Slipping down the sand hill to cross the plain, she commented to Sam. *I do not see Cordesh going blindly; this early on, he will choose the simplest path.*

~This early on?~

*It has been some time since he escaped, and he will probably expect to be tracked by now. His later trail will require more deduction.*

Following the path of least resistance between sand dunes and patches of brush, Jolinar moved quickly across the desert. Today the sun popped in and out of the clouds, leaving the air warm but humid, with no wind.

A few minutes passed, and Jolinar stopped on the edge of a slight drop. Red-brown rock broke the pattern of sand, falling into the next valley between dunes. Squatting at the edge, Jolinar leaned over and stared closely at the five-foot rock face. Sam wasn’t exactly sure what the motivation was, until Jolinar leapt smoothly from the top and landed in the sand below. She ran her fingers through the sand, lightly sifting, looking for something—and then she found it.

*These are newly broken,* she said. *The animal life is small on this planet, and even though this rock is softer than some, only a person could cause this.*

~Good work,~ said Sam, admiring. ~I suppose if you were running you would avoid rocks.~

*You suppose correctly. But knowing that Cordesh was here does not mean we know where he went. It only means that we can be on the lookout for such mistakes, at least for now.*

Rising, glancing around, Jolinar again chose the easiest path to get away from the Tok’ra base. Despite how flat it looked when near the Stargate, the homeworld was speckled and dimpled once you got close. Here and there were spiky patches of hostile plants, stones just hidden below the sand’s surface, grey sand to mix with golden.

Jolinar followed a winding path between landmarks as the sun reached its peak and wavered slightly before descending just in front of them. Once she stopped to examine a dent in the sand near a patch of brush, and after finding a few sticks arranged in a certain pattern, she told Sam that this was where Cordesh had tried to get water.

~Really?~  asked Sam. ~Is that similar to where you use the moisture that rises from the sand in the night?~

*Indeed,* said Jolinar. *The presence of plant life, however hardy, would indicate more water than elsewhere; it was a smart choice, though he did not cover his tracks.*

~Do you think he’s kept up the same pace as us?~ asked Sam.

Jolinar stood up, brushing the sand from her hands and squinted as she looked into the setting sun. *Possibly. He would be on the run at first, so perhaps a quicker pace, but I do not believe he would keep it up. Still, his host is young and strong.*

Sam spared a moment to remind herself that this wasn’t just catching a traitor, it was a rescue mission to save the kidnapped host. ~And, how long do you think he will elude both us and the base?~

*A couple days at most,* said Jolinar. *Whatever plan he has to get into our base or through the gate will not be long-term—I am sure he was not planning what he would do after escape. He will grow impatient and afraid.*

~Is there a place on this planet where he could hide and wait?~ asked Sam.

*Not for long,* said Jolinar. *But if we are lucky he will do so.*

~Yeah, when has that ever happened?~ said Sam with a sigh.

They didn’t stop to eat, but Jolinar took a bite as they went every once in a while. A couple more slight clues were found, but that was nothing special at this point. After a while, the landscape went smooth for a mile or so, with nothing to distinguish it. Jolinar stood at the edge for a moment, consulting her map and her mind.

*There is a small source of standing water to the south of us,* Jolinar said, looking to the left. *It is far off, but it is possible that Cordesh would choose it. Further west is only more desert, but to the north of us is a much craggier landscape.*

~Hmm,~ said Sam, getting into the hang of things. ~How far have we been traveling?~

*Perhaps twenty miles,* said Jolinar. *The black lake is another thirty or more miles when not as the bird flies, but only ten miles to the north there is a section of cliffs.*

~Just why do you have all this information if you live underground?~ asked Sam.

*There are those of us who study planets’ topography,* said Jolinar. *It is an important part of defense systems.*

~Hmm. I do not know Cordesh,~ said Sam. ~But my training would have me go first to avoid capture, and water is too obvious a choice.~

*An excellent observation, but I do not believe Cordesh is military-minded,* said Jolinar. *He has been among the Tok’ra since birth, but even though his mind seems to have turned with age, he has never sought military power or experience like most Goa’uld.*

~So, he might put survival first?~

*Might,* said Jolinar. *That being said, he has the memory of the Tok’ra which contains all our tactics, one being that we accept hardship for necessity’s sake. I believe he will go to the north.*

~Let’s hope we’re right,~ said Sam.

Another hour passed, and the land grew more difficult to traverse. Rocks that formed the basis of dunes made them taller, but the sand slid away when climbed. Not only that, sometimes there were thorny plants uprooted when Cordesh had used them as grips, but had since been covered by sand and bit into Jolinar’s hands as she climbed. That didn’t improve her mood.

Neither did the heat or lack of good hydration. Some time in the late afternoon, Jolinar’s water supply ran out. It wasn’t a big deal for her and Sam, as they planned to collect more that night, but it certainly made the frustration of so few clues much greater. As Jolinar had predicted, Cordesh grew increasingly more aware of his trail, but he was no expert at hiding it even then. It helped that the landscape provided few options, but Sam often thought fondly of woodland training exercises where cracked branches and footprints were easily discovered.

Jolinar remained confident in her determination, grit her teeth against the hot wind that picked up in the evening and pressed forward. *We are catching up, slowly,* she said.

Sam wondered how she could know for sure.

Eventually, though, even the sharper vision that Jolinar had given Sam couldn’t be trusted not to miss clues. The sun dropped behind the horizon, and with such a landscape, the light soon followed. The moon was a bare sliver in the sky and the starlight, though brilliant beyond that usually found on Earth, was just not enough. Finally, just as they were in the middle of a labyrinth of shallow canyons lined with sand, Jolinar stopped to set up camp. Finding the nearest spot with the most sand and brush, she laid out the blanket she had brought. Then, digging a hole a couple feet deep, she set up a tent and bowl device to collect water through the night.

Sam was surprised to find that she and Jolinar had traveled about thirty miles from the base, considering how she felt. She had almost forgotten the added strength and endurance that Jolinar gave her. Still, the idea of being 24 miles on a straight line from the base was pretty impressive—and a little scary. Unlike on earth, where helicopters or trucks could swoop in to nearly everywhere in a few hours, she and Jolinar were on their own. If there was an emergency on the base, it would take at least 7 hours to get back, and anything could have happened. Jolinar liked the isolation, though, and Sam had to agree a little—the challenge was nice.

Before they went to sleep, Jolinar gave up the control to Sam, and Sam didn’t drop off immediately.  It was a cool evening, a little moist with the growing cloud-cover, but there were patches of deep and starry black. It was a view Sam had forgotten could exist, living most of her life in cities where the building and street lights seemed designed to reach up into the sky and keep the dark away, ignoring the stars that sought to shine down.

*For a scientist of the skies, you indulge in a simple idea of them,* commented Jolinar quietly.

~I first got into astrophysics because I loved the stars,~ said Sam. ~It’s easy to get bogged down in the details after a while, but I still stargaze sometimes.~

Jolinar didn’t answer, and there was a moment where Sam felt a semblance of harmony surround both their consciousnesses. It was strange, given the gravity of the situation; it was counterintuitive. It was welcome. Tomorrow they could worry again.

ooooooo

Daniel’s hand hesitated above his phone, and he withdrew it and frowned at the list. Apart from his usual duties today, he had taken an extra-long lunch break to go over what Hammond had assigned him. He hadn’t been underestimating anything when he told McKay that he could only think of two people who might hear an offer from him. There were a few of his colleagues that he had once counted as acquaintances, but not for many many years. No, not only would Dr. Jordan have more knowledge of promising archaeologists and anthropologists, he would have the clout to get them to listen.

The problem was, Daniel wasn’t so sure that he wanted to make the call. Dr. Jordan was one of the few people who Daniel respected who had never disappointed him, and even though he knew it was just elevating the man on a pedestal, he couldn’t shake it off and just call him like an old friend. For a moment he twirled his chair back and forth a little, tapping his pen on the list as if another, easier name would just pop out onto the paper.

Then, almost smacking his own forehead in recognition of his oblivion, he brought up his address book on his computer. How could he have forgotten Catherine? To be sure, they only spoke every month or so, and usually on personal or Stargate issues, but he shouldn’t have forgotten that she and Ernest had been archaeologists. Not that he had to extend an invitation to them—they had chosen to reject that last year—but Catherine at least might know some people, and Ernest might remember some old comrades.

Picking up the phone, Daniel quickly calculated what time it was in New York where Catherine lived now, and decided that she’d probably be home. He had just started talking on the answering machine when she picked up.

“Daniel?”

“Catherine,” said Daniel warmly. “How are you?”

“Surprised and a little worried at this call—what has gone wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Daniel, then bit his lip, then remembered that Catherine wouldn’t realize the untruth. “I actually wanted to ask for your help.”

“Really?” came Catherine’s wary voice.

“Well, I need to get in touch with the archaeology community, and I’m not the whitest sheep of the flock,” said Daniel.

“Neither am I, you should recall,” said Catherine. “In any case, I haven’t been active in that area since we brought Ernest back.”

“I just need some contacts, names at the least,” he said.

“What is it, Daniel?” asked Catherine, sounding intrigued. “Some even greater discovery? Can you tell me?”

“Yes, I can tell you,” said Daniel, smiling. “It’s nothing major—just building up the department here. Not just mine, also, but most of the sciences.”

“Ah, so your military has finally gotten into its head what got it that gate in the first place,” said Catherine.

“I hope so,” said Daniel.

“Well, Ernest and I will do what we can, but are you really looking for people our age? I would have thought you’d go back to old classmates.” Catherine’s words might have been innocent, but Daniel could hear the shrewd probing in her tone.

“We haven’t really kept up, Catherine,” said Daniel. “In fact, there are a couple I’d be a little afraid to call in case their opinions have festered over the years.”

“Mm,” said Catherine. “Well, would it hurt to try?”

Daniel gritted his teeth. “Possibly.”

“You should try your teachers at least; time softens disapproval more easily than frustration or resentment.”

“How did you—” Daniel began, then stopped. “Never mind.”

“I’ll send over whatever information I can get in an email,” said Catherine. “Good luck Daniel—is there any news on the situation with your friend?”

There was a pause as Daniel grasped for words, his mouth opening, closing, and then opening again. “Ah, nothing I’d like to talk about.”

A pause on Catherine’s end, and then she said, “Take care of yourself, my dear boy.”

“As best I can,” said Daniel. “Thanks.”

He hung up and sighed. He’d have to make that call to Dr. Jordan after all. By the time he made it through the department of the university, his apprehension was nearly gone. By the time his old professor picked up the phone with the old familiar, “Who calls?”, it bounced back, but for a second only.

“Dr. Jordan?” he said. “This is Daniel Jackson.”

“Daniel? Really?” The tone was surprised, but not indignant. So far so good.

“Yeah, I know it’s been a while,” said Daniel. “I don’t know how welcome this call is, but I needed your advice on something.”

“Daniel, you needn’t have been worried,” said Dr. Jordan, the kindly teaching tone just as he remembered. “I may think you have wasted your life, but remember who taught you to be independent. I thought you might have given up our profession, though—no controversial papers or quests for artifacts to prove your theory. What have you been doing?”

Daniel smiled to himself. Oh, where to begin...

Chapter Text

Chapter 21 - Pressure

Sleeping in a desert was no pleasant experience. Sam’s first trial, when Martouf and Lantash had joined them, had been on a full sand dune; she now found that despite getting sand in many places, that was a much better choice. Being thoroughly hydrated helped ease the waking process, for one. And here and now, the sand only barely covered the rocks beneath, and during the night even their sufficiently deep spot had disappeared.

Sam’s first impression upon waking was of an aching in her left shoulder, and then a tender spot as she tried to move it. Rolling over, frowning and murmuring “Ow,” through dry lips, she found that the sand had slipped down the hill and a rough rock poked up behind it. Some of the sand had stayed beneath her legs, so Sam and Jolinar were slanted down and Sam could feel the extra blood in her face. Letting out a huge sigh, Sam lay her head back for a moment.

*What, in the name of all the stars...* came Jolinar’s cranky tone shortly after.

~No, we’re not quite upside down,~ said Sam. ~But our sand ran off; most of it, anyway.~

*I shall personally subject whoever chose this planet as home-world to a night on its surface,* swore Jolinar.

Sam’s smile was more a grimace, as she recognized the familiar “I’m gonna kill whoever did this” tone even if  culture made it slightly different. ~Cordesh is going to pay,~ she agreed.

*Yes, let’s not loiter,* said Jolinar.

Sam sat up, wincing as she rolled her shoulder back, the muscles clenching a little before relaxing enough to move. She felt the tender spot with her other hand, and though she couldn’t see it, she could feel that it was pink from the abrasion and might possibly bruise.

*I can fix that,* said Jolinar.

Standing up, Sam stretched and shook the sand from herself. The sun was barely over the horizon and so the air was still cool, but thankfully no fog lay over the planet’s surface. Picking up the blanket, Sam wrapped it around herself and walked over to where their water had been collected. She squatted down and looked in the bowl, licking her dry lips. Thank god that old trick worked out here. She grabbed the water bottle and filled it, then downed a large sip. The gritty and bitter taste of the sand was washed down, and she immediately felt refreshed.

~I don’t feel like eating,~ she said, packing up the equipment and standing up.

*Agreed, we are not hungry yet,* said Jolinar. *If we have any fortune at all, Cordesh will not have started his day this early, or even better, he will wander without direction. We have not received any communication from the base, so the guards have seen no change yet.*

~I wonder what his plan is,~ said Sam, transferring control to Jolinar.

*We can be certain that it does not do the Tok’ra any good,* Jolinar answered, *He has no respect for our lives, as we’ve seen.*

Sam wasn’t sure she wanted to ask the question, but she took the risk. ~Do you have formal mourning for those you lose? Kurlsa, Rosha...~

*No,* said Jolinar. She had been massaging out their stiff shoulder, and now her strokes went a little faster. *As a culture we just move on.*

~That can’t be good,~ Sam said, but not pressing the point.

Jolinar didn’t say anything, just finished packing up and began walking towards the trail again. Sam took a moment to wonder how close to humans the Tok’ra mind was, then quickly dismissed it. Now wasn’t the time.

After returning to the last spot where they had guessed Cordesh had been, Jolinar reassessed the landscape. *It’s impossible to know when he came here,* she said, *which is unfortunate. Had it been later last night, he would have chosen a different path than this morning.*

~Okay, but what are the consequences?~ Sam asked, trying to see what Jolinar saw. The direction of the sun last night had overshadowed much of the crevices, leaving only the higher ones truly visible, and she definitely understood how today the world appeared entirely different. ~It looks like a main path that way, and the easier path is really on the other side, but will they not lead to the same place in the end?~

*Possibly; a similar end, definitely. But how shall we know, if we find no trace of him, if he has grown more wary or if he did not go that way? We have no time for both.*

~Assuming we caught up at all,~ Sam said, her mind working quickly even at this time of the morning.

*Right, he would be somewhere in this area as it was growing dark,* said Jolinar following.

~Which means he would have settled for the night nearby,~ continued Sam.

*Which means he’d leave obvious signs from sleeping,* said Jolinar. *Of course, look for where he slept first.*

Now with a plan, Jolinar quickly moved along the first path, eyes quickly scanning everywhere the sand was thickest. The shadows were still long, but on the opposite side of everything. But the sand was smooth and the brush untouched. Jolinar half-jogged along the top of the stone ridge, following the natural trail for a couple miles before looking ahead and seeing a wide plain of thick brush.

*Not this way, then,* she said before running back along where she’d come. The sun was now up and piercing through the film of cloud cover that still remained.

A half hour later, they were back at the beginning to follow the other trail. It was easier as they had predicted, and the light layer of sand was welcome after the hard stone. Sam had been impressed with the Tok’ra version of combat boots; they were softer and not as thick, but the comfort level was amazing, even after spending all night in them. They also seemed to be absorbent, or maybe well-ventilated, because Sam couldn’t tell that her feet had been in them for a full three days now with barely a break.

Ten minutes on the second trail, though, and they found what they were looking for. The dimple of sand where Cordesh had collected water, the sand shifted oddly, even a crushed piece of brush. Confident and determined, they continued on.

The sun rose, and the clues grew thin, Jolinar guessing at even faster speeds in an attempt to catch up even more. What clues they did find, though, seemed fresher, although Sam had to wonder occasionally how much was wishful thinking. Daniel had taught her how delicate this kind of work was, and without scientific equipment even the more advanced and observant Tok’ra couldn’t be perfect.

A couple hours into the chase, and Jolinar stopped short. Sam didn’t see it at first, but then she was just as caught off guard.

~Wait a minute...~ she said.

Jolinar stooped to pick up the bit of clothing caught on the thorn. *This is a foolish mistake; it must be a lead.*

~Can we be sure?~ asked Sam.

Jolinar didn’t answer with her usual firmness, fingering the ragged edges. *No and yes.*

~Damn,~ muttered Sam.

*It must be a trick, though,* said Jolinar, shaking her head. *Maybe even a double cross,  making us doubt our own judgment.*

~Okay, so then what about that bit of wet sand that had dried, a quarter mile back?~ asked Sam.

Jolinar gritted her teeth, looking back over her shoulder where they had come. *We can’t know for sure anymore.* Jolinar didn’t say anything like “we’re screwed”, but she might as well have.

~Damn, damn, damn,~ said Sam.

*My sentiments exactly.* Jolinar stood up and looked once ahead and once back. A warm wind had picked up, slowly ruining any clues they could have gotten from the sand. *The safest thing is to go back and give our trail another look.*

Sam could feel Jolinar’s revulsion at being fooled like this, and even she couldn’t seem to see a solution, still caught up in feeling as if her mind had failed her. Finally, she said, ~What’s his point?~

*Escape,* said Jolinar. *What else?*

~There isn’t any prize he’d want to take on his way out? Otherwise, why not attack the gate?~

*Like what?* asked Jolinar. She had been about ready to start back, but paused, the piece of cloth still in her hand.

~What would make him accepted to Apophis after he failed in giving the Tok’ra’s location?~ asked Sam back.

*Of all of us, Garshaw is the most wanted among the Goa’uld, but she is far too protected for any such attempt by one man,* said Jolinar, as if she was thinking out loud. *If not her, then I would be the next target.*

Sam and Jolinar paused. ~No way,~ said Sam. ~It can’t be.~

*It does not make sense,* agreed Jolinar. *He could have made many attempts by now.*

Sam silently agreed, but they both knew that there was still something fishy. No other option being available, however, Jolinar turned around and began quickly back along their trail. By now, the sand might have covered up any tracks, but perhaps something might shed light on this.

The wind was now blowing full on them, not too hard or too warm, but with just enough sand to irritate. Sam endured it, but silently wished for her sunglasses and wondered if Reyfa would be interested in working on something like that. Jolinar paused after a couple minutes, looking around where they now stood.

~Is this it?~ asked Sam.

*The landscape is similar,* Jolinar said, reaching down to gently shift the top layer of sand.

It was likely that the clump of sand left from Cordesh’s dripping water would fall apart on contact, but Sam figured that Jolinar would feel it anyway. She was surprised when Jolinar stood up and flung the sand off her hand. ~What?~

*It’s just water on sand,* said Jolinar. *How could it possibly say anything one way or another?*

Commiserating for a moment in the frustration, Sam didn’t respond. Then, they both jumped as the Tok’ra communicator beeped. Reaching deep into her pocket, Jolinar pulled it out, suddenly curious.

“Yes?” she said, a little shortly but that probably didn’t sound all too different.

“Jolinar, you are needed back at the base immediately,” came the now-familiar voice of Shan’ak, the gate-guarding Tok’ra. He sounded a little breathless.

“What happened?” asked Jolinar, her mood falling sharply.

“We believe it was Cordesh, but the attack was over before we could see,” he answered. “He killed another of us, and then was gone before we could do anything.”

“Which way?”

“To the northwest.”

“We’re on it,” finished Jolinar, putting the communicator back. She stood up and frowned. *Northwest. Back towards his trail. He doubled back to fool us.* Her hand clenched and unclenched.

~He can’t possibly think he can take you down, can he?~ asked Sam.

Whipping out her tiny energy weapon, Jolinar slipped it over her fingers and marched straight forward, the sun at her back. Sam didn’t ask again, not needing to. Jolinar didn’t know either, but she also didn’t care at this point. Another one of their own had died, and she was going to make sure the bastard got what he deserved for it.

ooooooo

Daniel stepped out of his car and up the steps to the university. He didn’t need directions anymore; he had spent a couple years of his life here, he knew exactly where to go. Passing from the sharp summer air into the dusty warmth of the building, he let himself slow down a little. All the young men and women walking by with books and papers in their hands provoked a strange nostalgia in him, making him recall all those days when this one world was big enough. It also made him feel a little old, seeing their fresh faces, but that was no matter.

Climbing up the last flight of stairs, he shifted his file folder to his left arm to knock twice on the door.

“Come in,” came Dr. Jordan’s voice through the door.

Daniel opened it, and smiled as he walked in, looking around at all the artifacts lying around on towels and newspaper.

“Welcome back,” said Dr. Jordan, adjusting his glasses and stepping forward to shake Daniel’s hand. “It was so good to get your call.”

Since Daniel couldn’t reveal anything until Dr. Jordan signed the nondisclosure agreement, their conversation had been nothing more than intriguing. Daniel talked about all the amazing work he had been doing, and how it was so classified he couldn’t even talk about it in general terms. Jordan had wanted to know more, and so Daniel had scheduled an appointment. When he asked Hammond for the clearance, Hammond had hesitated, asking Daniel if someone so near retirement would be a wise choice. Daniel had chuckled a little, assuring Hammond that not only was Dr. Jordan not ready for retirement, his wisdom and experience would be invaluable if he accepted. So now Daniel was here.

“Truthfully, I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me,” he said, shaking his old professor’s hand firmly. “But Catherine convinced me I should give a try. Catherine Langford?” he added, seeing Dr. Jordan’s confusion.

“Ah, the Langfords,” Jordan said. “I believe I came across that name when trying to find out where you were, Daniel. Please, take a seat, if you can find one.” He waved around at the couple buried chairs, returning to his own seat around the table.

Daniel tucked the file folder under his arm and carefully picked up the bronze helmet on the nearest chair. “Ooh, Minoan?” he said, holding it with the towel as he looked over it.

“We are not quite sure yet,” said Dr. Jordan. “But look at the inscription!”

“Linear B—that’s strange,” said Daniel, frowning and peering closely. “And early Greek?” He glanced to Dr. Jordan.

“No, it’s not a translation, unfortunately,” said Dr. Jordan. “But we think they may be related.”

“Sounds exciting,” said Daniel, gently putting the helmet on a nearby shelf and sitting down.

“So, what have you brought for me?” asked Dr. Jordan, nodding towards the file folder.

“Well, unfortunately, before I can tell you more you need to sign this,” said Daniel, opening the folder and pushing forward a paper.

“Politics,” muttered Dr. Jordan with disapproval, glaring at the page.

“I know,” said Daniel, “but this one’s worth it.”

Dr. Jordan looked up at him from beneath one eyebrow, then reluctantly reached for a pen. He had to push around a couple things to find one, but then he signed. Daniel nearly sighed in relief. He had been more nervous than he admitted, but now he was getting excited. This was what he had always hoped for, to get a chance to prove to his mentor that he wasn’t a receptacle of wasted time and effort. He just had never imagined it would actually happen.

ooooooo

The sun was straight over head and blazing down on the desert, piercing through the heat-reflectant Tok’ra suit and adding physical heat to the simmering frustration in Jolinar and Sam. Cordesh was headed straight for them, as far as they could tell. He was baiting them for some unknown reason, using lives as a price he knew they couldn’t pass up. The only thing now was—who would find whom first? Would he wait for them in some hollow, or would they pass each other on chance and only the fastest draw would come out alive?

Sam knew that Jolinar’s emotions over this whole issue were clouding some things, but she trusted in her experience and expertise to keep alertness and agility still at their highest. She trusted them enough to keep silent and let her work in peace. The news of Cordesh’s attack had come just as they were at their closest to the base, and after only three hours they were just over halfway there. No sign of Cordesh, but now they weren’t looking for signs.

The landscape had grown all sandy again, large waves of sand everywhere they could look, being gently shaped by the ever-present breeze. It wasn’t the perfect place for an ambush, but that didn’t mean anything if Cordesh was desperate enough. And given his apparent strategy, that seemed likely.

Jolinar pushed forward at her fastest speed, not quite jogging but near enough, and Sam was grateful for the symbiote’s added strength. She had never been weak by any stretch of the word, but neither had she been a runner, either short or long distance. These past two days of tracking under the sun would have been hard on her without Jolinar.

Slipping a little in the sand, Jolinar placed another determined step to get to the top of this tall dune. The sand again gave way again, just as her head peeked over the top, and she slipped down just as an energy blast flew past. The instant smell of burned hair and the sound of singeing suddenly brought everything into focus.

*Cordesh,* hissed Jolinar. She slipped back down the dune and brought up her hand to hold near her chest, ready to aim at any second. Silently, smoothly, she went swiftly to the right until the dune grew shorter. Her hand and the weapon immediately followed her head as she looked around. No one was there.

Not moving, she listened. Sam would have held her breath, but there wasn’t breath to hold when Jolinar was in control. There was a slight rushing sound to their left, and Jolinar swung her arm without moving the rest of her body. Crouching, she took one silent step forward, listening.

Ahead there was a flash of dark brown, and Jolinar fired before thinking. It disappeared, and she couldn’t know if she hit it. Running up and over the small hillock, she was ready to fire again when she saw a small lithe figure just beyond. With a perfectly aimed shot, she clipped him in the leg and was on him before he was fully down.

One hand still aiming her weapon, she tackled and pinned him to the ground. It was Kurlsa’s host and so—Cordesh.

“Fool,” she hissed aloud.

“It is the Tok’ra who are fools,” he spat at her, eyes flashing with a harsh glare. “It is not my fault that I thought of them as too wary and weak.”

“You are trying to provoke me into making a mistake,” said Jolinar. “It will not work. Your crimes have been enough, Cordesh; I will not give you a chance.”

Cordesh’s eyes widened as Jolinar pointed her weapon straight at his forehead, but he didn’t struggle.

~Wait, Jolinar!~ protested Sam, horrified that Jolinar was just going to shoot him here and now. ~Jolinar, the host!~

Jolinar paused, her finger still half-pressing the trigger. Sam could feel that every bone in her body wanted to kill Cordesh, wound him, pound out her frustration on him. And Cordesh didn’t object. “This is what you wanted?” asked Jolinar in a low voice. “Death?”

“Better than your interrogation!” snarled Cordesh.

Jolinar back-fisted him full on the face with a grimace, knocking him out. Sighing, pulling out her communicator, she spoke into it. “Cordesh is subdued. We will return with him soon.” Not even bothering to listen to the answer, she pulled out a syringe to sedate him before throwing the limp body over her shoulder like a heavy sack.

~What was that?~ demanded Sam. ~How could you just forget about the host like that?~

*I beg pardon,* answered Jolinar. *It is an old habit, that is all.*

Sam was about to respond, but then she paused. This was something that needed much more focused attention after this was all over. She held back and remained silent as they trudged across the sands.

ooooooo

“But, aliens?” asked Dr. Jordan, scratching his head. “This, Daniel, I cannot understand.”

“It’s not as strange as it sounds, really,” said Daniel, conveniently forgetting that which was. “Most of them are human—from Earth, actually.”

“But after all this time, how can they possibly be similar?” asked Jordan. “I don’t pretend to know all about geology and astrophysics, but surely the evolution on another planet would be significantly different even after a couple thousand years. Why should the remains of their cultures require our archaeology?”

Daniel shook his head. “It’s—it’s not just about that. It’s like...if they found the ruins of Atlantis on Earth today, a whole new civilization, wouldn’t you be interested?”

Jordan sat back in his chair, looking at Daniel from under his brows. “That goes without question,” he muttered.

“That’s how I see this,” said Daniel, resting his forearms on the table as he leaned forward. “It’s whole new worlds out there, whole new peoples. And yes, I know that isn’t quite your area, but we can’t learn about who these people are now until we help them learn who they once were.” He stopped, one hand still hanging in the air.

Jordan looked at him closely, dark grey eyes trying to look past the glasses and see into those open ones opposite. Daniel looked back, expectant and anticipating all at the same time. Jordan took a deep breath and exhaled, picking up the pen from the nondisclosure agreement and putting it back between the clay pot and the gold inlaid death mask where he had found it.

“You say this is a government run facility, military run?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Daniel. “There’s only a couple archaeologists, myself included, because they didn’t realize that finding new technology wouldn’t be straightforward. But now they’re seeing the light, or they at least understand when I tell them there’s a need.”

Jordan looked down for a second, hiding his face, then looked back up with a soft smile. “Daniel Jackson,” he said, “you have no idea what this means to me. At my age, I did not expect such a surprise.”

Daniel smiled, nodding.

“But,” Jordan said, raising an eyebrow, “but, I am not sure I can accept your offer.”

Daniel was confused.

“I cannot just leave behind everything to disappear under NORAD, dear boy, without causing much chaos,” explained Jordan. “I still teach two classes here, and Stephen and Sarah and I have our own projects on the side.”

“I didn’t know they were still with you,” said Daniel, his smile just slightly strained as his hopes began to fall a little.

“Did you know Stephen is about to publish a book?” asked Jordan, possibly missing Daniel’s reaction. “It’s good—I’ve read it.”

“We haven’t been in touch,” said Daniel, sitting back up from where he’d been leaning. “So, the answer’s ‘no’?”

“The answer’s ‘maybe’, Daniel,” said Jordan, clasping his hands and letting them rest in his lap. “I was never going to go to other planets and do fieldwork; I can’t even do that on my own planet anymore. But if you really do want my help, I can look over artifacts and send you my opinion on it. Would that be feasible?”

Daniel’s face relaxed a little. “Yes, yes, that would be good of course. Actually, though, what would be even more useful is if you could be on the lookout for people who might be open to that kind of job; I really can’t oversee every archaeological dig on every planet.”

“Oh, of course,” said Jordan, smiling. “And—is it possible that I could come once and see this Stargate of yours?”

“I’m sure we could make that work,” said Daniel, his smile wide.

“Good, good,” said Jordan, settling comfortably in his chair.

“I guess we’ll be in touch then,” said Daniel, reaching for the nondisclosure agreement.

“I hope so,” said Jordan, handing it to him and standing up.

Daniel rose, closing his folder and standing up to put out his hand.

“Daniel,” said Jordan after they shook hands one final time. “Have you spoken to Robert Rothman recently?”

“No,” admitted Daniel. “I, um, kind of vanished into thin air, in a manner of speaking. Besides, I don’t think anyone’s interested in catching up with the crazy one.”

“Actually, Robert came to reminisce a month or so back, and he mentioned you fondly,” said Jordan. “Perhaps I should give you his number? I think he’s been taking a break from work recently.”

“Yeah, yes, that would be great,” said Daniel. “Thanks for all your help.”

“No problem, Daniel,” said Jordan, putting his hands in the large pockets of his coat. “You won’t believe it, but I never stopped thinking of you as one of my best students. I’m glad you’ve been able to thrive at last.”

Daniel didn’t know what to say so he ducked his head, nodding to Dr. Jordan before leaving the room. He held his head high on the way back through the campus, the hint of a smile still clinging to the corner of his mouth. Catherine had been right, as usual. And things were looking up for him—just a little. After all the failures recently, he felt like he deserved this.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22 - Confrontation

Per Sam’s request, Jolinar did not stay around to watch Cordesh’s extraction ceremony. Truth be told, Sam still felt a little traumatized about the whole thing after Sha’re’s close call, and maybe a lingering fear of the Goa’uld as well. So they went to clean up and calm down.

Cordesh’s shot had left a streak of black soot in Sam’s hair, and while washing it out, she noticed that her roots were showing again. Jolinar had dyed them for her a while back, but here they were again, showing just how much time had past. Her hair was definitely not regulation length anymore, even if it had occasionally been pushing it before all this. Sam sighed, and let Jolinar finish up. Despite her practicality in most areas, she had made no request to trim Sam’s hair, which had Sam wondering what Rosha had looked like. She still hadn’t breached that subject if it didn’t come up naturally, and wasn’t sure that Jolinar was ready for it. Jolinar just combed back her hair and pinned it with a circular band like a crown.

All fresh and clean, they went to check on Sha’re. Walking to her section, though, there was no one around. The blankets were pulled up neatly over the bed as well, but there were diapers on the bedside table. Slightly confused, Jolinar looked around for Larys or Dorin, finally catching sight of the latter coming into the infirmary.

“Ah, Jolinar,” she said, gravely. “You may know that Cordesh was removed and executed this morning. Sho’nar survived without damage, but he is sorely hurt by the loss of Kurlsa and this betrayal by Cordesh. I have sent him to spend time with Cordesh’s former host Lensin.”

Jolinar sighed, getting distracted for the moment. “This stain on the Tok’ra will not fade quickly,” she said.

“We have always known that nothing was infallible,” said Dorin. She paused, brow furrowing. “But what are you doing here, Jolinar? Were you injured?”

“No, I came to see Sha’re and her child,” said Jolinar. “Have they been moved?”

“They moved themselves, rather,” said Dorin, the lines in her face smoothing out. “Sha’re has been doing well today, so she wished to visit Selmak and Saroosh.”

“You let her go that far?” asked Jolinar, frowning. Sam, too, was worried at the effort involved.

Dorin sighed again. “Unfortunately, it was not far at all. Saroosh has grown much worse since you last saw her, and I requested that she stay here so that we could keep close watch on her condition.”

Jolinar bit her lip, but nodded.

“They are this way,” pointed Dorin, and then walked off to continue her business.

Sam felt stricken at such news. They had only spoken a handful of times during her stay, but she had grown very fond of the quirky humor and wisdom of the old symbiote and her host. The thought of them ill was a blow. ~I thought Tok’ra didn’t get sick,~ she said to Jolinar.

*This is not sickness,* said Jolinar, the strength gone for a moment from her voice. *Even the Tok’ra cannot live forever, since we do not use a sarcophagus. Eventually old age takes its toll.*

~What will happen to Selmak if Saroosh dies?~ asked Sam, worried.

*Without another host...* trailed off Jolinar.

There was a moment of silence, and then Jolinar walked swiftly off to where Dorin had indicated. There were not really rooms in a Tok’ra infirmary, just tunneled hollows that were more like sections. The crystal technology made them relatively soundproof, thus taking away the need for doors, and by now Sam had to admit that the openness wasn’t too bad once you got used to it. In fact, it took away some of the awkwardness.

Turning around a corner, they found what they were looking for. Selmak and Saroosh were tucked up in bed, nearly sitting, but looking as if they couldn’t have done it without the pillows. Sha’re, with Shifu sitting on her lap and leaning back against her, was in one of the few swoop-backed chairs on the Tok’ra base. She looked at peace, and judging by the smile on Saroosh’s face, their conversation had been beneficial to both.

“I have found you at last,” said Jolinar, taking a stool so that she could sit near them both.

“Yes, Jolinar, this young lady has been keeping most agreeable company with me,” said Saroosh. “Don’t be jealous, but you are simply not here enough, and without you only your mate will speak to me without that reverence that makes conversation just that much dull. Lantash, that is; Martouf, I have no hopes for. So Sha’re is most welcome.”

“I am glad to hear of it, for both your sakes,” said Jolinar, taking her seat.

“Ah, now see dear one,” said Saroosh, leaning over a little towards Sha’re. “If you hadn’t noticed, Jolinar is quite good at hiding her true feelings.”

Sha’re smiled in response, glancing to Jolinar.

“Perhaps, but not in this case,” said Jolinar, just barely fidgeting. “I expressed my entire opinion.” Inwardly, Sam grinned; she liked Saroosh.

“Well, now that you have seen us, do you have another mission already planned?” asked Saroosh, changing the subject.

“Not at the moment,” said Jolinar. “In fact, my only mission at the moment is to see you.”

Saroosh snorted, leaning back into the pillows. “Oh, don’t tell me that you have come to commiserate! Not only is that not your way, I tell you that I will not have it.”

“Commiserate is not the word I would have chosen,” said Jolinar.

“Of course not,” agreed Saroosh amiably. She paused and closed her eyes, and then Selmak spoke. “Jolinar, your face is not merely frustrated by our teasing. What is troubling to you?”

Jolinar looked to Sha’re, whose face grew a little more serious, then looked back at Selmak. “You heard of Cordesh?”

“The most recent news, do you mean?” asked Selmak. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“I should have pressed for more caution in dealing with him when I first reported it to the Council,” said Jolinar quietly, darkly. “I knew how underhanded he had been, how well he had lied.”

This was the first Sam had heard of such doubts, and she listened quietly and intently.

“Hmm,” said Selmak, watching Jolinar. “This sounds familiar.”

“Really?” said Jolinar with a weary sigh. “And what does that mean?”

“Merely that I remember similar statements the last time we were in danger and you thought you should have known better,” said Selmak. “Never minding that the very fact that you did not think as the Goa’uld was more favorable in the eyes of the Tok’ra.”

“I do not live to be pleasing to the eyes of the Tok’ra,” answered Jolinar back, “but to keep the cause safe.”

Selmak just gave her a look.

“I did not wish to bring up such subjects,” murmured Jolinar under her breath.

Sha’re, who had been sitting silently, a little brooding, spoke up. “What of what we were speaking about before?”

“Where were we?” asked Selmak. “I am afraid that our minds can be distracted easily.”

“About Shifu,” said Sha’re, glancing down at her son with a smile. “You said that the Tok’ra do not have children.”

Since Jolinar had nothing to say, she quietly handed control to Sam. “I was actually curious about that myself,” Sam said, smiling and hoping the tone would lighten.

“Yes, I have often noticed how attached hosts are to the frequent bearing of children,” said Selmak, musing. “It is a common expectation, even if not all partake. We symbiotes are not sure why. For us, there are a few parents that bring forth many children, and that is all. We do not think so much in terms of family because of that, unless in the sense that members of a nation think of each other as family.”

“So you only know about our idea of children through sharing with your host,” said Sam.

“Not only, there is some instinct among us as well,” corrected Selmak. “But as you’ve seen,” she added, looking to Sha’re, “the idea of human children is not sacred to most symbiotes.”

“Before you came, Saroosh told me of how she and Selmak helped a planet once, and there were many children,” said Sha’re, looking to Sam with a smile. “Selmak did not remember children, and did not know what to do.”

“That was slightly embellished, I will have you know,” said Selmak with a slight sniff. “I remembered that they were small, innocent, and fond of being held. I merely forgot exactly what age went with each size.”

Sha’re and Selmak, and later Saroosh again, continued talking for some time. Sam listened for a while, but grew distracted by Jolinar. She wasn’t loud—on the contrary—but her silence held more than a lack of opinion. Sam had noticed and felt how strongly she had been determined to recapture Cordesh, and her confession to Selmak had cleared much up, but that only served to remind Sam of exactly what had taken place. Jolinar’s behavior and what she had revealed of her history had always been a little intriguing, more so than the other Tok’ra who were free with their pasts, and Sam had a feeling that Jolinar had always pushed the boundaries. Her relationship with her symbiote was growing a little strained because of Jolinar’s continual tight lip, and Sam had a feeling that Jolinar was still trying to make up for Sam’s situation. But she needed to realize that being secretive was only making it worse for Sam.

Once Sam was done mulling over these points, she felt a bit of emotion coming from Jolinar and realized that her eyes were still on Sha’re and Selmak, even though her mind was far away. It was a dark emotion, but with softness, and it felt like a mix of regret and worry. Sam recalled that not so long ago she would have known for sure—what was it on Abydos that had changed that? She was ready for answers.

Rising from her seat, she waited until Sha’re and Saroosh, now in control, looked to her. “Sorry to be such company,” she said with a wan smile. “Jolinar and I have other things on our minds; it would probably be best to take them somewhere else.”

*We do?* asked Jolinar, a little absentmindedly.

~Yes,~ said Sam.

Sha’re was bouncing a barely fussing Shifu on her lap. She tipped her head to one side, worry in her eyes. Sam made her smile a little wider, trying to say without words that it wasn’t related to her or the Abydonians.

“Make sure you keep on your toes, Samantha,” commented Saroosh with a significant look. “I don’t want to see Jolinar moping around, here or elsewhere.”

“If that word isn’t enough to keep her from it, I don’t know what is,” said Sam warmly. Putting her stool back to one side, she went out of the infirmary and down towards their personal room.

*What is this?* asked Jolinar, now fully aware of what Sam was doing.

~Something I’ve been waiting to do, and can’t wait any longer,~ she answered.

Jolinar’s emotions were less guarded, and Sam could feel the slight apprehension and unsurety. It wasn’t the right moment yet, though, so she held her own cards close. Finally, coming into their room, she sat herself neatly on the bed and crossed her arms. She was not giving up control of her body for this conversation.

*Yes?* sighed Jolinar, apparently without any clue to Sam’s behavior.

~We’ve been together for over two months now, right?~ said Sam, but she didn’t wait for the obvious answer. ~I’ll admit, it’s a good deal longer than I thought or wanted, but it’s not like either of us could help that. I’m trying to make the best of it, but you know the one obstacle in my way? You.~

Jolinar was without words, perhaps a little stunned.

~I thought we had a rapport going, off on missions, moving around the base, working together. And then Abydos happened.~ Sam could feel Jolinar instantly tense just a little. ~I asked you then what the big deal was, and you didn’t answer, and I thought it was because both of us were upset about the mistake we’d made. But that isn’t the case, is it? No, because it’s not just that the Goa’uld screwed things up, it’s this particular Goa’uld. Quetesh. You said you knew her more personally, but you didn’t say how or why. And then you’ve been behaving all weird and guilty about Cordesh, even though you didn’t when you revealed him to the Council.~

Sam paused, secretly hoping Jolinar would take it from here, but only growing more determined when the symbiote was stubbornly silent.

~Well, I’ve had it up to here,~ Sam said shortly, standing up from the bed and slowly pacing the small room. ~I’ve put up with enough crap from you, and I want answers.~

*Crap,* repeated back Jolinar flatly. *Is that what you think of personal discretion? For one who wishes to maintain a little personal privacy, that statement seems hypocritical.*

~You said you’d tell me when it was necessary,~ countered Sam. ~So yes, I’m pushing it a little sooner, but I don’t know what else to do.~ Sighing, she continued, ~Jolinar, I just want a little trust. We’re supposed to be working together, but recently I’ve wondered how true that is. I feel like I’m being blocked at every turn; you used to be squarely on my side, but now?~

*It’s not a matter of trust,* said Jolinar. *It never was.*

Sam felt the walls begin to crack, and so she held her mouth shut and waited, pacing.

*Fine,* Jolinar said at last. *You’re right, you deserve to know.*

Sam’s pacing slowed a little.

*Selmak once told you of how the Tok’ra came to be,* said Jolinar. *How Egeria turned from the path that the other queens followed, and bore children whose minds had not the evil memories of the Goa’uld. And she also told you how some very few Goa’uld were later turned likewise. I was one of the latter.*

Sam stopped, shocked. ~You...you’re a Goa’uld?~

*Was,* said Jolinar. *For the first millennia of my life.*

~You’re kidding me, right?~ asked Sam, sitting back down on the bed as she tried to collect her thoughts. This was just the old tactic of preparing someone by giving them the worst possibility first, then following with the lesser evil of reality, surely.

*On this subject, I am not flippant.*

No, that wasn’t Jolinar’s way was it. Except...Jolinar’s way? ~So all this time, all your fiercer ways haven’t been trying to be more independent of the Tok’ra, they’re just your mistakes as you try to become one of them?~ Sam didn’t know what she was thinking, and her tone came out accusing.

*I will never be ‘one of them’,* said Jolinar, fire in her voice. *They are who they are, not just because of what they believe, but because of the past they carry with them. I will not strive for the impossible.*

~Why didn’t you think I should know this?~ was Sam’s next question, as her thoughts began to order themselves. ~I knew nothing of the Tok’ra at first, I just thought you were a rogue Goa’uld, so why couldn’t you just tell me the truth?~

*I am not a Goa’uld!* said Jolinar harshly. *Your terminology is limited because of your knowledge, but you should know that at least.*

~I do know that you all but deceived me,~ said Sam emphatically. ~You kept trying to convince me that there was no danger, despite Cordesh, and that you were all true to the cause because you knew no other way. Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.~

*What should I have said?* demanded Jolinar. *Your prejudices were already against me, and my hope was that I should be fully blended with another within the month and that you would have gone happily on your way. My new host would know all, but there was no need to reawaken your fears.*

Sam didn’t have an immediate answer. Thoughts spinning in her head, she brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head in between them.

*Shall I now have to re-earn all your trust?* asked Jolinar bitterly.

~Just give me a minute,~ said Sam. She closed her eyes, thinking hard. That first feeling of terror when she realized Jolinar was in her body came back, flooding her memory. The invasion, the power, the capability for complete control; she had forgotten how strong had been her fear. It wasn’t so strong now. She knew Jolinar, she understood her...or did she? This information explained so much, but in more detail than Sam had wanted. How she occasionally forgot the host, how she did what she thought was best and followed no law, how Lantash and Selmak carefully reminded her of things, how she was so comfortable giving orders and in gaudy dress, how she was often wanting control...

~How did it happen?~ asked Sam quietly after a moment.

Jolinar had pulled back a little, and her answer was equally distant. *I served Cronus, many centuries ago,* she began. *I was useful to him because I was independent, and did not follow his orders blindly. I also chose my hosts carefully, stolen from the elite slaves of other System Lords so that I might sift through their minds for information to help Cronus.*

It hurt Sam to hear this, but she didn’t shrink back. Jolinar pressed forward, slowly, with painful pauses, but steadily enough.

*Eventually I grew curious, and in my spare time I looked through other memories. Elista, my last host from that time, was stronger than the others. I didn’t fully suppress her because I wanted her information, but I counted too much on my own strength. She made me doubt, but I didn’t notice at first. I asked her questions, and was surprised when she answered, always submissive but always with an answer. Then I heard of the Tok’ra. I had known before, but their existence had not made sense. Now, hearing of them again, it made all the more sense as I could hear Elista’s thoughts. I do not know how long it took, but one day I realized that I could no longer convince either her or myself that I was the superior being.*

Sam’s tightly wound ball of worries and fears slowly began to unwind as Jolinar let her story forth freely. She waited as Jolinar took a minute, and let her arms rest on her knees.

*It wasn’t all in an instant. I came to some kind of understanding with Elista, but that didn’t change anything else for a while. I left Chronus and served other lords, ones who seemed like they were more shrewd in their search for power, less brutal. But soon I could not keep the blinders over my eyes, and the arrogance and cruelty became clear in every action. And so I found my way here, just two and a half centuries ago, after much complication and danger.*

Sam nodded, digesting the last piece of information.

*I will understand if you wish to hasten your search for a replacement host,* said Jolinar when Sam had no comment, her tone painfully dark.

~Wait,~ said Sam, opening her eyes again. ~So, pretty much all on your own, you realized that your whole life was a mistake?~

*I will not deny, without Elista I would not have made the same progress,* said Jolinar.

~But you didn’t need as much convincing as you might have,~ said Sam, following her own logic, even as it led her out of her comfort zone. ~And you certainly weren’t forced.~

*That is correct,* said Jolinar.

~I guess I shouldn’t have called you just a rogue Goa’uld,~ said Sam, taking a deep breath and reaching out with her mind across the breach that she and Jolinar had just created. ~You were more like Egeria than anything else, and I should have trusted that.~

*I wasn’t perfect,* said Jolinar, hesitating before accepting Sam’s metaphorically outstretched hand. *You were correct in that many of my mistakes are failures to amend old ways.*

~But you admit it,~ said Sam. ~You have been honest, just wary.~ She tried to convey her understanding through thought, and was satisfied when Jolinar came back from where she had withdrawn. No closer, but no farther away. ~Quetesh?~ she asked, continuing.

*An ally of mine, along with Athena and Amonet, for a time. It has been many centuries since that fell apart, but not so many since Quetesh and I were last at odds. It has been a regret of mine that I did not use my knowledge to finish her off while she still trusted me, or at least trusted me enough.*

Sam nodded, settling back against the headboard, resting her head upon it.

*Are you keeping your thoughts from me?* asked Jolinar, her tone suspicious.

~About the fact that you were a Goa’uld?~ asked Sam. ~I don’t even know what my own thoughts are, let alone what I want to do about them. The only thing I know is: you’ve never purposely failed me, and I think I can trust you to continue that pattern.~

*Since that is all I can promise, I am satisfied,* said Jolinar.

~It is tough,~ admitted Sam.

*As it has been for me for longer than your lifespan,* said Jolinar. *I did not tell you before, not only to spare your fears but to spare myself having to retell my darkest memories.*

Sam hmmed, acknowledging. ~So, how are we going to infiltrate Quetesh?~

If Jolinar’s quick response meant anything, Sam had a feeling she was glad to move on. *To that, I have given much thought. It will be difficult, as her territory is small and her Goa’uld lieutenants few, but there is one thing in our favor: Quetesh has taken herself as the god of sexual pleasures and their perversion.*

Sam waited, curious and concerned, leaving behind her conflicted thoughts.

*She places her female Jaffa in high positions. And such shall be our entry.*

Sam’s eyebrows rose involuntarily, but at the same time her jaw set a little more into place. This wasn’t just some flippant disguise mission, and it wasn’t just an interesting scenario; at some point she had realized that these Tok’ra missions weren’t just a novelty, they were the duty she had taken upon herself.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23 - Ordinary

“What, no breakfast?” asked Daniel, taking the last entirely empty bench just across the table from McKay. The neurotic scientist was surrounded by papers, calculators, and his favorite tablet computer, but despite his usual attention to food he had none now.

“I’m not really in the mood for talking,” McKay answered absently, snapping his fingers as he waited for his test to finish collating.

“What could possibly have you too busy to eat?” asked Daniel through a mouthful of his own oatmeal, ignoring McKay’s protestation as usual.

“Your idea, actually,” responded McKay, equally ignoring his own earlier comment. “Your grand idea to expand the non-military part of this base? Admirable in intent, maybe, but you handed it over to the one person who wouldn’t know how to handle it.”

“General Hammond?” asked Daniel, then took a sip of his coffee.

“No,” said McKay in an obvious tone, abandoning his work for a second to give Daniel a look. “I didn’t mean person literally; I meant the military. They’re all about delegation and formal applications and deadlines.”

Daniel shrugged, nothing to retort about what he’d heard.

“What’s this, team breakfast?” asked Dixon, walking by with his food.

“Do you want it to be?” asked Daniel, looking up.

“No,” said McKay, even though he hadn’t been asked.

“Well, in that case,” murmured Dixon with a slight dance of his eyebrows, and then took a seat next to Daniel.

“What is that calculating, exactly?” asked Daniel, nodding to McKay’s computer.

“I’m trying to find something in common with the scientists here that I least think worthy of the position and how they came to be here in the first place, looking for variables that I can eliminate from my own search.”

Dixon half-choked on his bite of bacon. Daniel glanced over to him, and they shared a knowing look—what it was they both knew, though, neither of them could have fully said.

“And I was thinking I was taking too long,” said Daniel under his breath.

ooooooo

Jolinar hadn’t expanded on her plan of operation, but Sam could tell it wasn’t due to stubborn silence, just efficiency to wait until it became immediately relevant. The next morning was taken up by Martouf and Lantash, who had just returned from their own mission.

“I was surprised to hear you had left the base,” Jolinar had said, after the usual embrace and cheek-kiss.

“I’m sure you were,” said Lantash. “But one of our operatives had been taken into custody by angry and confused people, and the Council needed a decidedly friendly, calm face and voice. And that would be Martouf.”

“Yes, just as I am called to bring down escaped fugitives,” murmured Jolinar, her eyes dropping for a second.

Lantash had put a hand under her chin to lift it so that he could look her in the eyes, searching for the meaning behind her answer. It had not taken long to find. As the story wore to an end, Jolinar had eventually revealed what she had told Samantha. Lantash had been surprised but pleased to hear it.

“I did not think you would be so open without a push,” he commented.

Martouf came forward with his approval as well, and he wished to hear what Sam thought of it all. After coming forward, though, Sam found that she didn’t have much to say at all. Despite all her confusion, in the end she had found herself agreeing with Jolinar; after this amount of time, the information was less relevant than it might seem.

“Does it sound terrible if I say it wasn’t a complete shock?” she asked.

Martouf hid a small smile and shook his head. “I should hope not, for that would have meant that Jolinar had been behaving dishonestly, which I would not expect.”

“To be honest, and I told her this,” continued Sam, “it’s just going to take a little time. It’s not like I need any particular proof, just that it’s hard to go back to the way things were just like that.”

Martouf nodded. “Of course. In a way, Jolinar might have made the best choice by holding off this information until you were familiar enough with her to understand it.”

Sam paused. “In a way, maybe,” she said, not as reluctantly as before. What she didn’t say was that the planning for their important task helped her simply forget, or forget her fears at least.

There had been other conversation on lighter things, giving Jolinar no time to explain the details of her idea until they all parted for their own business. Sam wondered for a moment how Martouf and Lantash would respond if they knew what she and Jolinar were planning to do, especially so soon after all that had occurred.

*Well, now we may talk,* said Jolinar finally, after a couple brief errands on the base. Sam felt guilty appreciating how she acted as if yesterday’s conversation had never happened. *If you remember, we agreed to make contact with the operative on a Goa’uld farming world. As that is a mission of undefined length, it will serve dual purposes.*

~So we do the official one first, then the other, I know,~ said Sam.

*There is one major issue in the general idea of the plan,* admitted Jolinar. *I do not believe that we will be able to take enough time without rousing suspicion to accomplish our rescue of the Abydonians. And, my plan revolves around more lengthy infiltration.*

~So you’re saying we’ll have to be very careful with how we schedule things,~ said Sam. ~Okay, I can see that. But what exactly is your plan?~

*Quetesh does not have females as close slaves, for her preferences lie in other ways when it comes to the service she receives from them,* said Jolinar. *But she does not subject them to lowly servitude as do most System Lords. Instead, she gives the most intelligent of them positions of power over her other slaves, in hopes that their resourcefulness will shine and that they will be less inclined to grow drunk with power and competition.*

~If she’s that smart, why isn’t she more powerful?~ asked Sam.

*She has always played her cards quietly, waiting for a power vacuum to take control without losing Jaffa,* said Jolinar. *But that will prove useful for us. I intend for us to mingle among the ranks of her Jaffa, eventually finding ourselves a small position where we may learn and watch. Should it prove necessary, we would then be able to influence events towards a feasible rescue.*

~Makes sense,~ said Sam. ~How?~

*We symbiotes cannot tell the difference between the young and old of our kind,* said Jolinar. *Thus, with a contrived symbol and pouch, none could tell the difference if they were not looking.*

~You can fake a pouch?~ asked Sam, impressed.

*For the purposes of a short disguise, certainly,* said Jolinar.

~I can see how that might get tricky if we’re having to come back here in between missions,~ said Sam. ~At least it’s not a permanent tattoo, right?~

*Correct,* said Jolinar. *I am glad this meets with your approval.*

~Quetesh won’t recognize you because of me, right?~ asked Sam.

*Again, correct,* said Jolinar. *The only way our former acquaintance will affect the mission is in giving me a good sense and base of knowledge for what she will do.*

~Last question,~ said Sam, ignoring Jolinar’s perhaps purposeful over-statement of the odds. ~Can we kill her?~

Jolinar did not answer for a second, and Sam wondered if she was surprised at the question. At the moment, though, Sam was only thinking of recompense for all that this Goa’uld had screwed up.

*No,* Jolinar answered finally, disappointedly. *We cannot act and affect such a large change in the balance of the System Lords, not yet.*

Sam acknowledged the validity of that, and they moved on to the nitty gritty details. All those times Jolinar had been silent and private with her thoughts, Sam realized, she had been planning this. She knew exactly what she needed and where she needed to get it from and approximately how long it would take. All she needed was to bounce that information off of Sam, and then wait for the opportune moment. And that moment was coming very soon.

ooooooo

Daniel retired to his office soon after breakfast. They were headed out on another mission tomorrow, and he was looking over the MALP information. The planet had appeared uninhabited, but the archaeological remains were immense compared to what they usually found. He couldn’t get any details yet, but he wanted to go in with any background he could look up.

As he zoomed in on the one tower structure that was most clear, there was a light ping from his computer. He had mail. Just out of habit, he clicked over to his email program, then blinked. It was from Dr. Jordan. He had not expected anything so soon—even Catherine had not responded yet—so he quickly opened it. There were a couple names he recognized, a couple he didn’t, and one near the bottom that had no information attached at all. Curious and thoroughly distracted, he had to call for clarification.

“Um yes, I need to speak to Dr. David Jordan in the Archaeology Department?” said Daniel, holding the phone with his shoulder and going back to the other program to finish the enhancement of the MALP image.

“This is Stephen Rayner, Dr. Jordan’s office, what do you need?” came a familiar voice after a couple seconds.

“Stephen,” said Daniel, dropping his shoulder to hold the phone with his hand. “I wasn’t expecting to hear you—this is Daniel Jackson. I need to reach Dr. Jordan.”

“Daniel?” responded Stephen, shocked. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I take it he didn’t mention my visit,” said Daniel. There was no reason for Dr. Jordan to bring it up, as its classified nature would make explanations difficult.

“Of course not—what were you thinking, coming back like this after three years?”

Daniel sighed. He had not wanted to have this conversation. “Stephen, my business is with Dr. Jordan, not you.”

“What business? Last I heard, you were lecturing an empty room.”

“Well, it wasn’t empty when I started, and that was three years ago,” said Daniel. “Stephen, I know there was some bad blood between us, but this is a professional matter.”

“Really.”

“Really.”

“Dr. Jordan’s not in right now.”

“Have him call me back then?” said Daniel.

“If you’re trying to ensnare him in one of your conspiracy theories, I’ll have none of it,” Stephen warned.

“Thank you, Stephen,” Daniel sighed, and hung up the phone with a dull thunk. He and Stephen had never been the closest of friends, but apparently any animosity had grown not lessened over the past years. The selfish part of him hoped that any further interactions with Dr. Jordan were Stephen-free, but the logical part of him knew he’d have to deal with the issue sooner or later. Personally, though, he hoped later.

ooooooo

After Jolinar had neatly and covertly obtained all the small things they would need for the mission, she and Sam had caught up with Sha’re where she was still confined to her bed. Confined to the infirmary at least, and she took what liberties she could by spending time with Saroosh and Selmak. As Sam and Jolinar walked in on them, Sam quickly surmised that the elder symbiote and host had decided that Sha’re was one of the rare few that they could be comfortable with.

“Checkers?” asked Sam, surprised and coming over to marvel.

“So there is a name,” said Saroosh, looking up.

“Dan’yel and Skaara were very fond of this game,” said Sha’re, as Sam drew near to examine the pieces. “They played for many hours, too many sometimes.”

“Just be glad he didn’t try to teach him chess,” said Sam, smiling as she picked up one of the small pieces. The game didn’t require much artisanship, but she liked the Tok’ra equivalent that Sha’re had somehow gotten made.

“Why?” asked Sha’re.

“Oh, it’s just a lot more complicated and time consuming,” said Sam, putting the little black stone back on the crystalline board. “There are whole books written about the strategies of it.” Sam sat down next to Sha’re to watch.

“Then you must teach it when you next return,” said Saroosh. “It has been some time since I have been asked to exercise my intellect in such a way.”

“No, Sam you must not,” protested Sha’re, but lightly. “It shall not be fair, with my mind so many centuries younger than yours! And you shall not be able to convince me that Selmak is not helping.”

Saroosh half snorted. “It is a pittance. Your mind is young and agile, ours so over-full that we will not be able to think clearly.”

“So they say,” said Sha’re, looking to Sam incredulously.

Sam smiled, saying quietly, “I agree.”

“Your alliance should frighten me,” commented Saroosh. “But never mind, I shall get the game from you soon enough.”

Though her tone was light, Sam and Sha’re’s thoughts did not seem to be so. Sam just hoped she would get the chance eventually, but Sha’re looked a little worried.

“Whose turn was it?” asked Saroosh.

“Yours,” said Sha’re.

“See, young nimble mind,” muttered Saroosh.

Sha’re managed a smile again.

“Where is Shifu?” asked Sam, confused as she looked around and saw no sign of the child.

“Martouf took him,” said Sha’re, not looking up.

“Really?” said Sam.

“He was here when I came to visit, and offered to watch him while I taught Saroosh and Selmak the game,” said Sha’re. She frowned, thinking. “That was some time ago. I did not want to impose for so long.” She sighed.

“Hmm, then it is as usual,” said Saroosh, making her move. “That man does nothing but find new ways to oblige those he names as friends.”

“I can go find him if you want,” offered Sam.

“I would like that, if you do not mind,” said Sha’re, touching Sam’s hand as she looked up at her. “It has been nearly an hour, and he will probably need to feed again soon. Shifu, that is.”

~Where do you think they went?~ asked Sam as she stood up.

*Probably no further than the nearby corridors,* said Jolinar. *They are vacant at this time in the evening.*

Walking out of the infirmary, Sam glanced down a few hallways before she caught sight of Martouf. He was pacing evenly back and forth, Shifu apparently dozing in his arms. Sam had half expected to see him rocking the baby, but maybe that was more of a human thing to do.

“Sha’re’s wondering where you are,” said Sam as she walked up to him. “She’s a bit miffed it took her this long to notice.”

Martouf smiled. “I am not displeased then.”

Shifu had turned his head floppily towards Sam at the sound of her voice, and she smiled at his wide-eyed look. “I didn’t realize you knew how to deal with children,” she said, putting up her finger for Shifu to grip with his tiny hand.

“I did not, before today,” admitted Martouf. “But they are very fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” said Sam, looking up from Shifu to Martouf.

“I do not remember them at all,” said Martouf, a little sheepishly at Sam’s look.

“Yes, I remember Selmak talking about how there are no children among the Tok’ra,” said Sam. “I’d use the word cute, personally,” she added, in a sudden moment of honesty.

“I’ll try to remember that,” said Martouf with a slight smile. “Do you wish to hold him?” he asked, as Shifu smiled at Sam and as she couldn’t help but smile back.

Sam hesitated for a moment, but took him up on the offer. Shifu was smaller than he looked, and being only a week old had little strength in his muscles. As she took him into a cradle hold, he seemed to meld against her, all warm and soft. He didn’t move or make noise, just looked up at her face, pondering in his infant way. His blanket being mussed, Sam took a second to support him with one arm while wrapping him a little more neatly with the other.

After that moment of silence Lantash spoke. “Martouf thinks it an awkward question, and perhaps to his mother it would be, but I hope you will understand—this is strange to us. How do you know how to react to him, what he will respond to?”

*I must agree, this is beyond my understanding,* commented Jolinar in an undertone.

“What do you mean exactly?” asked Sam, bemused and confused all at once.

“The way you are swaying,” said Lantash, nodding towards her. “And the smile, and the way you let him hold your finger, the way you wrap him, how you hold him so that he can see your face.”

Sam’s brow furrowed for a second. She hadn’t noticed she was even doing all that. Looking down at Shifu, she thought for a moment, then looked back up. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m not an anthropologist or psychologist, but some of it seems to be instinctual. The rest—well, on Earth everyone has seen a baby or someone caring for one.”

“How did you learn?” asked Lantash. “Are there children born even in your military?”

“No, but I wasn’t always in the military,” said Sam, brow furrowing again. “I had friends whose mothers had more children, and even recently my brother and his wife had two kids that I got to hold.”

Lantash nodded, taking in the information. Sam had to smile to herself; this was by far the oddest conversation, and yet strangely endearing.

*Samantha,* said Jolinar quietly. *I must admit, participating in how you feel for this child who is not your own is an experience like none I have had before.*

~Sorry,~ said Sam. ~Didn’t mean to disrupt you.~

*Do not apologize,* said Jolinar. *It is...amazing, in its way.*

Sam looked back up to where Martouf and Lantash were. “I guess you’re not the only ones,” she said.

“Jolinar?” said Martouf, now back in control.

“Yes,” said Sam. “She is finding this a learning experience.”

Martouf had a quick smile of appreciation. “For all our stiff words, we also are intrigued,” he said. “It seems—most beautiful. Even we felt a slight sense of peace we could not explain while holding the child.”

“That sounds about right,” said Sam, thinking about all that this conversation had opened up. Then she looked back down at Shifu. “I suppose you’re getting tired of all this talk, aren’t you?” she said to him. “Come on, let’s get you to your mother.”

After returning Shifu to Sha’re, who thanked Martouf and Lantash and in the same breath chastised them for burdening themselves with her baby for so long, Sam and Jolinar had to disengage their minds from the quiet and the domestic.

Pushing back the questions and answers about how human the Tok’ra really were, Sam joined Jolinar in focusing on their next task.

*Tomorrow is the start of a long mission, and though it will be longer than they realize, Martouf and Lantash will wish to continue our tradition,* Jolinar said. *That is still acceptable?*

~Of course,~ said Sam. ~I’ve had the luxury of a bed for a while now, so one extra night without one won’t hurt.~

That being settled, Jolinar retired to their chamber and spent the rest of the evening putting all their supplies together. Apart from the usual, of course, she put in a bottle of black dye for the tattoo and a small container with supplies to mimic the shape of a Jaffa symbiote pouch. Sam had a remained a little skeptic when she saw that it only consisted of a malleable rubber-like substance, various paints and a kind of jelly, but she decided to wait until they put it to use. The rest of accoutrements for a Jaffa, such as the armor and staff weapon, would have to be found off world.

And then, not forgetting that they had more than one goal, they went over the first mission. The official one.

*It’s relatively simple,* Jolinar said. *Our operative is deep within Goa’uld territory, but doing research instead of spying, acquiring what he needs from the Goa’uld.*

~I got that from the briefing,~ said Sam. ~But how can it be simple if we have to get that deep? Won’t they sense you?~

*Not if we stay out of the way,* said Jolinar. *Not only is the sense muted if you are not paying attention to it, but it is affected by distance. I do not intend on putting you in danger by getting that close.*

~Oh sure, my life is the only thing worth protecting,~ snarked Sam. ~You’re lucky I don’t tell Martouf and Lantash about all these comments of yours.~

*I am not reckless with my life,* protested Jolinar. *Not unless it’s necessary. I have much to die for, but much to live for as well.*

~I’ll say,~ answered Sam. She sighed. ~Just how confident are you on this mission?~

Jolinar grew even less frivolous, if that was possible. *I remember Quetesh. I believe I know how she thinks. And I will not let any possibility of success go by because of risk or sacrifice involved, if you are in agreement.*

Sam agreed silently, then added, ~On we go, then.~

That night, Jolinar resting gently in Martouf and Lantash’s arms as they sat together on the sand, Sam understood why Jolinar cherished these moments. It wasn’t just because of the love she had for them, although Sam was no longer surprised at the strength of her symbiote’s emotions when they rose to the surface, but because this symbolized a break from the calm reality of the Tok’ra base to the edgier and dangerous world beyond. Jolinar was uncomfortable here, not knowing how to live domestically but feeling that she should and wishing she could. Sam had the strong impression that every night spent like this, a small part of Jolinar wanted it to be the last night where it felt like stepping through the gate to another universe just to go on a mission. And in many ways, Sam understood.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24 - Discovery

Sam and Jolinar stepped through the gate to another Goa’uld world. There was no guard kept on this gate, no need to be cautious at first. If anything, this world had all but forgotten that its gate brought more than what was demanded. This Goa’uld had become arrogant, blind, and the Tok’ra were not hasty to take full advantage of him yet. Instead, they kept one of their own to quietly steal and acquire, waiting for the right moment to end it, if it ever would come.

For this mission, Jolinar had pulled out a close fitting outfit of light material, dark and mottled with varying woodland colors, not quite military camouflage but something a little more natural and less angled in design. It was softly woven and clung without sticking—Sam liked it and wondered where Jolinar had been hiding it. But its purpose was not comfort or even fashion, but simply something to get them from here to where they would steal a Jaffa’s uniform. That was the true goal.

Sneaking through the forest, walking with long strides over the quietest brush, ears open for any sound, the first part would be easy. They were several miles from civilization and didn’t expect any Jaffa. Even if they were surprised, Jolinar counted on using her weapon faster, and that would save them the trouble of doing it later. Sam frowned at that, but it wasn’t enough to give a vocal protest.

While Jolinar kept all her senses sharp and her focus on moving to the destination, Sam couldn’t keep her mind from wandering. Like so many others, the Stargate on this planet was put in a green and wooded area. Not tropical green, not arctic green, not wetland green, but that idiosyncratic temperate green. Sam had always wondered about how the galaxy was populated, if Stargates had been planted on worlds most like Earth, or if some advanced civilization had terraformed them to be so. It was such a near impossibility that all the worlds they came across had Earth-normal gravity and similar ecosystems, and the impossibility was even greater by the high percentage of temperate planets. Even the greenest of the planets they’d discovered had some of the natural variations of desert and plains, but they’d discovered only a few that were anything else—be they water, desert, mountainous, or plain-covered in the majority.

It was like some race had decided the perfect climate, and then gone and reproduced it a hundred times over, making a couple mistakes here and there but in general succeeding. It made Sam shiver, both at the wonder and fear that such an idea stirred, and at the huge scientific implications it represented either way it was taken. And it was something she had never talked to anyone about, just kept as a quiet speculation whenever they visited a new planet.

Right now, she was thinking about a smaller aspect of the issue: the vegetation. As Jolinar marched forward, each step would crush the dead underbrush or the young new plant-life, sending up a cloud of scent. Often it was barely noticeable, but Sam had nothing else to focus on. Unconsciously at first, she had begun to categorize those smells ever since her first trip through the gate. She’d found that many were the same as on Earth, but some seemed entirely foreign, and common on some worlds while conspicuously absent elsewhere. She was no biologist, but her own senses gathered pretty clear evidence.

But her revelry in her own distracted thoughts was soon interrupted. Jolinar began to move slower, crouching lower and stepping with more care, cat-like in how easy it seemed. They could be near civilization now, any moment they might catch sight of someone or vice-versa.

Sticking under the canopy of trees and listening for any noise but their own, Jolinar snuck through the woods and Sam kept second watch from inside her own head.

ooooooo

“You have to be kidding, right?” asked Dixon, five seconds before they were about to walk through the gate.

“Do I kid? No,” said McKay. Jack and Teal’c walked through first. “Seriously, all I had to do—”

Daniel walked through, Dixon at his side, and for a few brief seconds he felt himself passing through a world that wasn’t quite physical. His eyes saw again, he breathed out, and he was walking on the steps of a new world.

“—just get Lee to realize the importance, and then he went and looked up all the controversial scientists for me,” finished McKay, coming through right behind him.

“Nice,” said Dixon, looking around.

It wasn’t new to Daniel, as he’d scanned the MALP readings only yesterday in great detail, but the scale was certainly impressive. Tall thin columns lined a neatly paved path from the gate towards a stone city. It wasn’t Celtic, Roman, Greek, or even anything older—Daniel couldn’t put a name on it at all, in fact, and that was what was intriguing.

“The only problems were ones I expected,” McKay said, shrugging, unappreciative of broken stone buildings. “Felger was annoyingly over-helpful and Tobias equally on the opposite side.”

Dixon, after his moment of being impressed, turned back to McKay. “Wait a minute, you’re not doing any of the work at all?”

“I told you, I couldn’t think of anybody,” said McKay.

“That seems most unfair to your coworkers,” said Teal’c from where he stood a few steps ahead, turning his head to let one lifted eyebrow be fully in McKay’s view.

“Less chit-chat, please,” sighed Jack. Daniel looked up to see him glancing resignedly at a boot covered in a thick yellow substance.

“I don’t think I want to get close to that,” said Dixon, mouth twisting. “Looks like something out of one of my kids diapers, and frankly I’m not sure I want to know anything else about it.”

McKay stepped forward despite a look of disgust on his face. Jack, nose wrinkled up, shook his foot, and McKay jumped back a couple paces.

“Hey!” he called. “Come on!”

“Jack, no throwing of the droppings please,” said Daniel, staying well back.

“What is it?” asked Jack, keeping the contaminated boot stuck out a foot or so.

McKay took a step forward, squatted a little, then backed up and said quickly, “Bird problem, most likely.”

“Would not such droppings be the responsibility of very large creatures?” asked Teal’c, who stood looking over Jack’s shoulder with his hands behind his back.

“Okay, so elephant problem, whatever,” said McKay. “It’s not a booby trap or alive, so why do we care?”

“This planet looks pretty abandoned,” commented Daniel, who decided it was time to end the dropping talk. “No people of any kind, no signs of recent living either.”

“So...ghost town,” said Jack, giving up on his boot and standing up straight again.

“Of some kind of advanced technology, yes,” said McKay, pointing at the glass-paneled building at the end of the path. “Nothing beyond our own, that we can see.”

“Still, that’s impressive,” said Daniel, reaching into his pack for his video camera. “We can probably assume that there haven’t been Goa’uld here for a while, even though the address was on the cartouche.”

“We talking Tollan type civilization here then?” asked Jack.

McKay glanced down at the palm-sized device in his hand. “No radiation or poisonous gasses, thankfully.”

“The Tollan did exist for many years within the knowledge of the Goa’uld,” said Teal’c. “It is likely that their advanced technology was enough to repel them.”

“So if this place is advanced, it’s probably because they had nice weapons,” said Dixon. “Sounds good to me.”

“What’s that?” asked Jack, cocking his head.

“What’s what?” asked McKay, a second before the buzzing sounded.

“Maybe the animal that left these droppings,” suggested Teal’c.

Dixon and McKay both glanced down at the size of the droppings, and McKay’s face paled a little while Dixon’s tensed.

“Holy—whoa!” shouted Jack, and jumped back a step.

Daniel, camera in one hand, flipped it up as something flew towards them.

“Yikes!” said Jack, shaking himself off as the thing flew past him.

“Yeagh, that thing’s huge!” said Dixon, smacking at whatever-it-was with his P-90.

Daniel frowned as the thing slowed down to hover in the middle of them. “Is it a bug or a bird?”

“More like a dinosaur,” said Dixon, keeping well away from it.

The bird/bug thing hovered for a couple seconds, darting back and forth a few inches in mid-air, then flew straight for McKay’s face.

The scientist let out a cry that might have been a shriek, justifiable in Daniel’s mind, and dropped the device. He ducked, and the thing flew straight over his head just to land on his back as he stood up. “Gah, get it off, get it off!” he called, spinning and frantically trying to smack it off.

Dixon stepped forward a little, reaching out with his gun to smack at the thing. It didn’t seem to move.

“I’m allergic to most insect stings!” said McKay, starting to hyperventilate.

Daniel glanced to Jack, a bit of concern on his face.

Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. “Hold still, McKay,” he said, pulling up his gun.

McKay’s eyes went wide and round, but he held perfectly still.

Barely pausing, Jack let fly a shot, and the thing flew from McKay’s back to land mostly in one piece, dripping greenish black slime.

McKay breathed out slowly, rubbing one hand on his forehead.

“Happy now, are we?” asked Jack, his tone just starting to get exasperated.

Now that the thing was dead, Daniel and McKay stepped to look closer at it.

“Good grief, it’s like a scorpion and a dragonfly all at once,” said Daniel, reaching out with a finger to try and uncurl the carcass.

“Scorpion?” asked Dixon surprised. Daniel looked up and thought he saw a little sympathy for McKay in the man’s eyes. “You saying that thing’s tail is a stinger?”

Glancing back down at the six inch “tail”, Daniel felt a little retroactive fear himself.

“Okay, that thing’s just nasty,” said Jack, looking over the scientists as they squatted by it.

“It would appear that its intentions could have been violent,” said Teal’c.

“Well, we’ll have to take it back for study,” said Daniel. “But look at what’s dripping from the stinger—it was primed to inject something.”

“Or someone,” said McKay pointedly.

“So shooting, good,” said Dixon with a nod. “McKay actually made a good call for once.”

Jack indulged in a silent chuckle.

McKay stood up and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like you would have just let it land on you,” he muttered.

Daniel took a specimen bag out of his backpack and carefully scooped the messy carcass into it, noting the acidic smell with some distaste.

“ColonelO’Neill, I believe it would be wise to retreat from this planet,” spoke up Teal’c.

“What, the poo and the bugs too much for your Jaffa warrior skills?” asked Jack.

“Wait, what about the technology?” asked McKay.

“I do believe a retreat is in order,” answered Teal’c, a little more forcefully.

Daniel looked up and followed Teal’c’s look, as did the others.

“Shit!” hissed Jack between teeth as a buzz was heard to accompany the approaching cloud.

“Teal’c’s right,” said Dixon hastily.

“McKay, dial the gate!” ordered Jack, half-jogging backwards with his gun up and ready to fire.

Daniel stood up, stuffing the bag in his backpack, and followed his quickly retreating team.

McKay couldn’t dial the gate any faster, but the cloud of bugs grew closer.

“Come on, come on,” muttered Dixon, hands clenched around the gun.

The gate activated in the traditional rush.

“This is SG-1, we are coming in hot!” yelled Jack into his radio, as Daniel dialed their GDO code.

The bugs were almost on them. Teal’c and Dixon opened fire, and Jack held up his gun with one hand as he waited for the signal. “Now!” he said.

McKay leapt through the gate with no pushing, and Daniel and Dixon turned to follow. They were barely in the gateroom before Teal’c and Jack came through. McKay was calling up to the control room, “Close the iris! Close the iris!”

A couple bugs came through, but they flew high and Jack and Dixon’s rapid fire had them splatted on the floor in a few seconds.

“What was that, SG-1?” demanded Hammond from the control room.

“Sorry, sir!” called Jack crisply. “Big honking space bugs!”

“All taken care of, sir,” said Dixon, letting his gun lower slowly.

“I’ll get a science team to handle the remains,” said Hammond, nodding from where he stood.

The team eyed each other, breathing out their sighs of relief. That was certainly not making it onto the list of favorite planets.

ooooooo

This was Jolinar’s favorite part of any mission, Sam decided. They had passed two pseudo-settlements by now, and were well into the most populated area on the planet. The trees broke every so often into clearings full of wooden dwellings. Some were the small cottages and barracks of ordinary Jaffa, others more elaborate for their masters, with two stories and balconies. No sign of where the clearly visible slaves would have be quartered, but that wasn’t Sam or Jolinar’s mission this time.

Flitting behind the trees no matter how thin the cover, staying behind buildings and away from guard posts as much as possible, Jolinar looked for signs of Tok’ra presence. There wouldn’t be explicit signs, but that was the point. The Tok’ra expected it to take a few days to a few weeks for Jolinar to locate the operative’s hide-out, but they assumed she’d need to use slower methods. Jolinar, on the other hand, planned to guess her way to success. Sharp eyes looking for the weaknesses in the village planning and the landscape, she watched for a perfect place for a small Tok’ra tunnel.

The sun was well past its apex, drifting halfway down the horizon as the day wore on. They were many miles from the gate now, with dozens of Jaffa between them and it, all well-armed and ready for battle. Sam paid close attention as she felt the faint tingle of naquadah from each one they drew near to, and had to remind herself that the Jaffa had only limited perception of symbiotes.

As the minutes passed, Sam began to quietly doubt Jolinar’s plan of action. Leaping in with both feet was fine on some occasions, but in this case the Tok’ra’s usual tactic of inconspicuous and steady searching might prove most effective. They had only stopped to eat once today, and the heat of midday had pierced even the trees and light clothing that had shielded Sam and Jolinar. As the water was well-patrolled, they had only the lukewarm bottle that they had brought.

Just as Sam was about to say something, though she didn’t know what, Jolinar paused behind an especially large old tree-stump. Pulling her small data-pad from her pocket, she glanced at the information they had. The operative here was entirely science-focused, and had sent back very limited information about the structure of this planet. All Jolinar knew was the general population and that the settlement seemed to be stretched in a line along the space between the two ridges to either side of the Stargate, with a river running through the middle. It was many miles wide, but it certainly narrowed the field.

*As far as we know, he’s moved his location every few months for his own and for the Tok’ra’s protection,* said Jolinar finally. *But the pattern has been a low hill near a branch of the settlement that reaches out, no more than a mile in between so that he can pass into the village without being noticed.*

~We aren’t anywhere near any of the hills here,~ said Sam.

*Exactly. It may be another day or so for that, and we will have to rest in the forest.*

~Hey, I wasn’t expecting a miraculously quick working of this,~ said Sam. ~But, now that we agree on that, can we eat soon?~

*Yes, yes,* said Jolinar. *The heat demands that we take a short rest as it begins to cool down again.*

Sam was glad once again to be reminded that Jolinar felt things as physically as she did.

oooooo

“Hey, Daniel, look at this!” said McKay, barging into Daniel’s lab as he was typing up his mission report.

“What is it?” asked Daniel, taking the sheet of paper from him without standing up.

“The biologists on level 17 got their hands on those bug things, and they sent the venom up for tests to Dr. Frasier,” said McKay.

“Deadly?” guessed Daniel.

“Oh yeah, and much worse,” said McKay, morbidly interested.

“Worse than deadly?” queried Daniel with raised brows.

“Yes,” said McKay. “These bugs don’t just want to kill you, they want to use your DNA to make clones of themselves; it’s how they reproduce.”

“Ick,” said Daniel.

“No kidding,” said McKay, taking the paper back. He stood for a moment. “You know, ‘shoot first ask questions later’ isn’t sounding so bad anymore.”

“Really?” asked Daniel, genuinely surprised.

“When it comes to bugs,” amended McKay quickly. “Just bugs.”

Daniel nodded.

“I just hope I can sleep well tonight,” muttered McKay as he walked out.

Daniel smiled to himself, then paused, taking in what McKay had said. Everyone they stung would turn into more bugs? He winced, shivered, and then shook his head. Oh yes, just what he needed for his own tranquil sleep. He quickly returned to his mission report.

ooooooo

Sam was glad to wake the next day without a stiff neck. She and Jolinar had traveled until it was past dark, using the faint lights of the village and how much of the night stars were blocked by hills to gauge their location, but had come across nothing and eventually went to sleep. Jolinar’s on-mission sleep clock was very tight, and they woke just as the sky was blue-purple and the stars had barely finished disappearing. A slight fog had settled in, and Sam was still a little damp from the sweat of yesterday, but this morning it felt cool and nice and so she didn’t care.

By the time tendrils of sunlight poked between the hills and through the trees to dive straight into Sam’s eyes, she and Jolinar had traveled another few miles. They would go another few hours that day before finding anything.

Sam could imagine how this mission would have gone without Jolinar’s sense of direction. With no knowledge of how the planet was set up, they would have had to carefully travel around in circles until they fully understood it, and even then go slower to make sure they didn’t miss anything. As it was, Jolinar seemed to know this place like the back of her hand now, even though she assured Sam that it was nothing of the sort. Sam believed her completely; it was entirely like Jolinar to just know these things.

Even once Jolinar was sure that they had found a good location, though, the sun was high and they had several square miles to search. Afternoon had come when they were pretty sure of the entrance to the secret Tok’ra hideout, was leaving as they nearly gave up, and another hour passed after they actually found it while Jolinar had to guess the password. This Tok’ra apparently didn’t trust that only other Tok’ra could find him. In between muttered curses, Jolinar silently admired that independence.

Making contact went well, however. Ollodrin was a tall, well built man with golden-brown skin and smooth black hair and eyes. Even in his underground laboratory, he still had the Jaffa tattoo that allowed him to sneak into the village, and he moved around with the grace of a warrior. It was only when he was explaining his work that his hands became gentle and precise, those of a scientist who understood his art. Jolinar at first nodded as he talked of the modifications to existing Tok’ra technology that he had been working on, and his own pet project of a device that would affect the Goa’uld’s ability to fire their weapons. Sam took control after a short while, though, as she at least didn’t have to pretend to be interested, and was well able to convey to Jolinar what she would need to report back to the Council.

“You are host to Jolinar, correct?” Ollodrin asked after a good half hour or more had passed.

“Yes, I am,” answered Sam.

“I am sorry, I have lived in isolation for my own safety for quite some time, so the events among the Tok’ra are foreign to me,” began Ollodrin. “Was Rosha lost?”

Sam nodded, her smile growing pained. “Some time ago, yes.”

“Then please tell Jolinar that I am sorry for her loss,” said Ollodrin, reaching out and clasping Sam’s hand firmly between his. “And I hope that the next centuries are kind to you.”

Sam’s expression didn’t change, her eyes darted slightly to one side, but after a second of hesitation she nodded and smiled her thanks. She wasn’t about to explain all the complexities to Ollodrin. Need to know, and he was certainly not enough in the loop to have the need.

Even though it was late evening by the time Sam had conferred with Jolinar to make sure that they had enough to report, Jolinar insisted that they begin their trip back to the gate. Sam, still in control, understood the true reason but didn’t have to act much to explain to Ollodrin that Jolinar was a bit obsessive about her work. Even better, Ollodrin knew enough about the Tok’ra to not need any convincing on that point, just a slight bow of farewell.

Leaving the hills, they began the journey back to the Gate the way they came. The terrain looked different to Sam going backwards, but for Jolinar it was similar enough that she seemed to move a little faster and without as many stops. The sun sank below the hills and the air grew cool again.

Just as it was getting dark, though, Jolinar spoke up without being asked for nearly the first time since they arrived at Ollodrin’s.

*Samantha, I believe that now is the time to take on our role.*

~You have a plan?~ asked Sam.

*The same that I have used before,* said Jolinar.

They continued traveling for a short while, but Sam noticed that they were getting farther away from the safety of the forest and closer to the river. Soon she could hear its tumbling over short falls and stones that stuck up in its middle, the bubbling crash of small waves mingling with the sound of the water brushing against the overhanging grass on the banks. The moon was full, the stars were bright, and the sun of the day had cleared away all clouds from the sky.

The river grew louder as Jolinar ventured closer, braving the small points of light where Jaffa stood guard with torches and lamps. An hour past dark, the river grew calm and shallow where they were, and that seemed to be the sign for Jolinar’s plan to go into action.

On the other side of the river, a lone Jaffa stood by a tall dark house. Inside, all the lights were out. Even as the river ran nearly smooth, it filled the night with a white noise. Crouching low to the ground, her eyes keenly fixed on the Jaffa, Jolinar crept to the edge of the river bank. She drew from her pouch a Tok’ra style needle that would stun a victim quickly and opened it. Slowly, without splashing, she stepped into the river—it was chilly even allowing the warm weather—and counted on the darkness and the gentleness of her movements to hide her from the Jaffa’s sight.

Nearly across, she stopped and, stooping until she almost sat in the cold water, splashed lightly on its surface. It was perfectly timed, and Sam saw the Jaffa’s head turn slightly. Jolinar splashed lightly again, just loud enough that it might not be a fish, but just soft enough that he wouldn’t be absolutely expecting anything more. He stepped down to the edge of the river bank, and Jolinar tossed a small rock out where he was looking to make a soft plunk. With his curiosity peaked just enough, the Jaffa stepped into the river to take a closer look, zat drawn.

Jolinar was silent and deadly, stepping beside him and plunging the needle in his neck just half a second before putting him in a swift lock to keep him from flailing and making noise. All her strength went to keep him from moving, and Sam’s muscles ached with the strain this hearty Jaffa put on them. But with one hand over his mouth and the river to keep the noise even more muffled, he couldn’t do anything in the four seconds before he went limp. It had worked very well indeed.

Letting him float on the surface to give her arms a rest for a second, Jolinar then pulled the Jaffa to the bank. Without pulling him from the water, she stripped him of all armor and weapons and devices, then without giving a warning to Sam, gave him a lethal dose with another needle. Sam had a moment of shock before she realized that they could never have let him live if they wanted to keep any kind of safety. That was what the river was for as well, to leave no tracks or evidence as well as muffle their theft. Once Jolinar had all she needed, she let the body float away downstream. Who knew how far it would go before anyone noticed, but it was unlikely they would have any idea what to connect it too, and Jolinar and Sam would be well on their way.

Jolinar took all they had collected and made her way back into the forest. When they were once again a good ways from any civilization, she found a good place to hide and laid everything out to dry.

~Good plan,~ said Sam, recovered completely.

*Thank you,* said Jolinar.

For a moment, Sam had seen in her mind the flash of Goa’uld eyes relishing in the kill—but she knew better. Jolinar’s eyes had not flashed because there was no emotion, no feeling bleeding into Sam’s mind other than concern for the protection of Sam and others. Perhaps subdued over long years to a practicality rather than an active worry, but it laid Sam’s fears to rest again.

Sleep was quick in coming, and Sam knew that she would go to sleep tonight as a Tok’ra and wake up to become a Jaffa. It would be an interesting tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25 - Covert

Sam and Jolinar never found out if they had caused a fuss. The morning was spent in Jolinar fashioning a makeshift pouch-looking mark on her stomach, rubber substitute, slime, body paint and all. By the time it was over, Sam was a little grossed out, but saw that as a good sign. The tattoo came next, and though Jolinar had to draw the transfer backwards, it turned out beautifully. Besides, after the chain mail and sheet mail armor was on, it was a minor detail. Jaffa armor was heavy, and Sam was once again glad for Jolinar’s extra strength. The form fitting helmet did its job, with Sam’s hair just peeking out from under the edge.

After strapping the staff weapon to her back, Jolinar followed a straight path back to the gate, staying far away from any real Jaffa. This disguise was just as dangerous as not having one, for this was most definitely not a world of Quetesh. There appeared to be no hunt out for them, not yet anyway, and they reached the gate in good time. Jolinar dialed a new address, and waited for the chevrons to lock.

*For this mission, we will have to be inconspicuous at first. I will admit, it is not my strength. Going unseen or showing power, those are no difficult tasks, but I may need your help here.*

~Mine?~ asked Sam.

*You served under a hierarchy, did you not?~ asked Jolinar. *How subordinates speak to superiors is not in my vocabulary.*

~You can’t expect me to take the lead, though~ said Sam.

*I only wish you were well acquainted with Jaffa culture to do so,* said Jolinar. *As it is, we will have to work together. You will send me what you think our response should be, and I will try to translate if necessary.*

~Right,~ said Sam. ~We’ll see how that works, won’t we.~

*We have no other choice,* said Jolinar.

The gate activated, and they walked through.

It was late morning on this planet, and the gate faced pure east. Through the golden glare of bright sun, though, they saw that the gate was on a rocky ridge overlooking a valley in the midst of mountains and ridges. The terrain was half rock and half mountainous grass and brush. The altitude change gave Sam a moment of discomfort in her ears before Jolinar adjusted things.

A few Jaffa stood near the gate, but seeing Jolinar they let their staff weapons rest and nodded.

*This planet is well-trafficked,* commented Jolinar as she nodded in response before walking off.

Sam followed Jolinar’s eyes as she took everything in. No sign of rigid order, not even of any organized schedule. ~We won’t be in danger yet,~ said Sam. ~Look at how relaxed everything is.~

*They are not expecting important visitors,* said Jolinar. *Good, good.*

Staff weapon held high, Jolinar walked down the path from the gate towards civilization.

~Just a note,~ said Sam. ~When we do come across someone of higher rank, you’ll have to lower your stance a little and not act like you own the place. I don’t think it matters now, though.~

Jolinar acknowledged the fact silently and continued her trek.

The set-up of this village was highly militarized, with only the obvious barracks being larger than the general tents and temporary housing. No grand houses, no slave quarters, this was a Jaffa-only planet. Looking around, one had to assume that they got all their supplies through the gate. In fact, they would have to get everything through the gate. This was the Jaffa equivalent of a cul-de-sac, or a foxhole.

The population was large, however, and so Jolinar had no fear that they could blend in. Women and children were around in some numbers, and a few female Jaffa were visible. There seemed to be a lot of waiting around for orders, though, which served Sam and Jolinar’s purpose perfectly.

Quetesh appeared well aware of the needs of her Jaffa, or perhaps they were just rebellious, but there was a tavern in the midst of the village run by the only human slaves visible on the planet. Sam instructed Jolinar to shuffle just a tiny bit as she entered, and curl her shoulders just slightly as she sat down. It might have looked out of place for any other warrior, but Jolinar’s tall stance merely looked average when given such corrections. Sam was well pleased when not a head turned to look at them.

After ordering a drink, Jolinar practiced the universal trick of watching people in a room while pretending to be focused on one’s food and drink. Jaffa went in and out, talked over tables, drank but not to excess, and in all things kept themselves relaxed without overt laziness. Sometimes, looking out the window, Jolinar kept an eye on the rest of things. She could see the gate, and noticed Jaffa going back and forth around it without it activating.

*Very low key,* she finally commented.

Sam suggested eventually that Jolinar lean on her table, closing her stance just a little more for privacy’s sake. She knew from experience that it would keep people of Earth away, and was pretty sure that Jaffa weren’t different enough to change that fact. Sure enough, only the slaves running the tavern were there long enough to see that Sam and Jolinar stayed for several hours straight.

Nothing happened. Nothing. Happened. The day came and went without the least sign of any progress. Later in the evening, Jolinar took a walk around the civilization, looking into the barracks. There were plenty of bunks that were unslept in, validating their conclusion that this was not a permanently settled community. There would be a free bed tonight, no questions asked.

Night came, the tavern grew full, and Sam and Jolinar stayed outside. This day was meant to be wasted as they blended in, and they weren’t ready to face a crowd. The moon was high in the sky before most of the population was in bed, and Jolinar made her first move. Making her way towards the gate, she saw only one Jaffa.

*Small talk, perhaps?* asked Jolinar.

~I assume Jaffa have a lowest-rank-does-watch type system?~ asked Sam in answer.

*So far as I’ve seen, yes,* said Jolinar.

~Offer to take his place after a few words, then,~ advised Sam. ~They obviously aren’t worried about intruders here, so he won’t be suspicious, and it’s easily explainable.~

Jolinar agreed.

“Watching the stars and not the gate?” Jolinar asked, walking easily up to the Jaffa.

He glanced down. “Of course,” he said, and despite his tone Jolinar assumed it was a half-joke. “You have nothing more so important to do?”

“None,” acknowledged Jolinar. “I am looking for something to set my mind to, however.”

“You will find no such inspiration from me,” confessed the Jaffa. “I am in no such focused mood.”

“Then perhaps you should postpone your watch until you have found your focus,” said Jolinar, giving him a look even in the dim light of the lamp. “Go, eat, drink if you must—I will take the watch.”

The Jaffa nodded his thanks, and moved off.

*Ah yes, success,* said Jolinar. *He may be back in a couple hours, but no matter.*

~Do you ever feel strange, going to all these planets where day and night are on different schedules?~ asked Sam. ~It feels like evening to me, not night.~

*That is expected,* said Jolinar. *It is clear that your culture is new to star-travel if you still think thus.*

~Actually, I had almost forgotten it,~ said Sam. ~I was just wondering why he didn’t seem curious about your alertness this late, and then wondered if he expected it with the traffic you say this planet gets.~

*You are learning quickly, then,* said Jolinar. *A correct assumption. But also, among the Jaffa there is no suspicion; they are brothers. Unless the rumor of the shol’va is rampant, but that is rare among the more minor Goa’ulds.*

~What, you can’t call him Teal’c?~ asked Sam.

*Don’t take offense, but that is a perfectly good word that the Goa’uld just use as an insult.*

~I don’t remember him thinking that way, but it doesn’t matter,~ said Sam. ~So now, we continue on the same line?~

*Yes. We should hope that the next call of duty is not for a couple days, so that we may integrate ourselves with it.*

~This shouldn’t work,~ commented Sam. ~It’s too...doesn’t anyone know all their troops?~

*Not even close, that is your Earth side talking again,* said Jolinar. *With deaths and conversions happening so often, trying to keep records is insane.*

Sam nodded, and watched the gate. Jaffa did not need to sleep, and so the guard shift went on for many more hours. Finally they were replaced at dawn, and Jolinar found it difficult to suppress a yawn as they retired to the barracks. They received no odd looks, no questions, no notice at all. Sam had a brief moment where she smirked to herself about being a secret agent like her dreams as a little girl, but the sight of the slaves serving the Jaffa quickly brought her around to remembering exactly why she was there. And there was nothing glamorous about it.

ooooooo

Over the next two days, Sam and Jolinar found their task of integration to be relatively easy. Jolinar informed Sam that Ba’al was known for his unorthodox methods of controlling his troops, such as giving them liberties and freedoms instead of crushing down any possibility of rebellion, and Quetesh seemed to have caught on. But perhaps, Sam and Jolinar both thought, not quite as effectively.

At least on this world, the standards were lax. There were three small shipments over both days, and little order or timing at all onto how they were dealt with. Children played in the streets even as the Jaffa marched past in formation, sometimes having to stop and let particularly brash ones get out of the way. Technically they were all ready for one word from their master to move out, but in reality the section of them that were drunk, sleeping, or otherwise incapacitated due to sparring or lovemaking, were enough to make assembling any considerable force nigh impossible on short notice. Thankfully for them, it wasn’t called for.

And thankfully for Sam and Jolinar, that meant free flowing liquor and all that went along with it. To keep from getting drunk herself, Jolinar allowed Sam to take control the following night to “socialize” while she stayed back and put forth most of her effort into neutralizing the alcohol Sam imbibed.

“You heard o’ that rebellion they talk about?” slurred the Jaffa, a younger man who nevertheless was perfectly professional even when three sheets to the wind. “The one that says we oughta be free.”

“Yeah, yeah I have,” said Sam, keeping it low key.

“They don’t know what they’re goin’ on about,” continued the Jaffa, leaning against the bar from atop his stool. “What’re they goin’ to do with it? Right now we got a good life, ‘n’ our lord Quetesh doesn’t go for a lot o’ war and conquest. She doesn’t worry about us ‘cause she doesn’t have to, why would we want to leave and have to fight?”

“Shol’vas don’t know what they’re doing, do they?” agreed Sam, downing another sip of the overly sweet ale offered here.

“Oh, they can fight Apophis or Sokar, but it won’t do ‘em any good when our lord takes ‘em all out from within,” said the Jaffa confidently, even as his eyes crossed when looking at his drink.

“Right,” said Sam, nodding and thinking.

“She already beat out Ba’al for some world and he doesn’t even know,” finished the Jaffa.

*Excellent, now we have confirmation,* said Jolinar from deep in the back of Sam’s mind.

Sam nodded, and her Jaffa companion turned to someone else. ~This is very interesting,~ she commented, finishing off her mug. ~I wasn’t really a beer person at home, just wanted to get drunk sometimes...I don’t ever remember being able to taste beer after drinking this much.~

*Interesting for you, perhaps,* said Jolinar, less than indulgently. *You have no idea how much physiological change goes on with every gulp of that vile stuff.*

~One, I’m not gulping, two, it was for our mission, and three, what would happen if you didn’t do anything? Would you get drunk?~

*I am connected to your mind; if you begin destroying it, flooding it with poison, I must withdraw physically or submit to being affected,* said Jolinar.

~Anti-alcohol, are we?~ commented Sam, choosing not to refill her mug. ~It’s mainly a social thing, so that doesn’t altogether surprise me. And I suppose if I had the choice to get drunk or not, knowing what it would do to me...~

*Think instead of what you would think if you understood down to the minute detail exactly what it does to your mind and body,* said Jolinar.

Sam had to admit, she thought she understood. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten truly smashed, actually. A few times offworld she’d let herself go a little, but never getting more than a little tipsy. It hadn’t been since her true military days, hanging out with the guys and gals at her post just like now. It wasn’t nearly as enjoyable when you lacked the actually drunken part—drunk people made more sense when you were just as far gone as they were.

As Jolinar did not hesitate to remind Sam, though, retaining sobriety of body and emotion was necessary. Through the tavern, Jolinar had become a recognized face for several Jaffa among the lower ranks, but through careful leaking of information had managed to almost retain anonymity. The next stage, which she was just about to begin, was to gain just enough notice among the officers.

Jolinar knew what she had to do, she just wasn’t sure of the best details. Sam rolled her eyes, saying, ~Believe me, I know how to kiss ass.~

Despite the relative chaos of this world, a sense of order was never fully lost. Not only were there regular training exercises, but duties were carried out, if a little later than immediately. The barracks were maintained, the supplies stored as they were brought through the gate, and little details carried out. Sam advised Jolinar to start volunteering herself for some of the smaller detail jobs, silently not openly, keeping her head just low enough to make it seem like she wasn’t trying to get noticed.

So they picked up tables after a bar brawl, rearranged the armory after the organization grew a little lax, refilled the oil lamps by the guard post at the gate, and generally kept the peace whenever necessary. Next they would move on to helping with the shipments through the gate, but not too soon. Nothing would be worse than making their move too soon.

ooooooo

Considering that their last mission had only been three days ago, and their next was little more than routine exploration in a few days, Daniel was quite surprised to get a call for a morning briefing. So surprised, that he promptly forgot when the morning actually came, and was caught in the mess hall by Siler.

“Uh, Dr. Jackson, aren’t you supposed to be in the briefing room?”

Spilling some of his coffee on the folder he was carrying as he tried to look at his watch, Daniel cursed to himself in three languages, grasped for a napkin, and tried to clean up on his way to the stairs. No elevator today—even while multitasking Daniel could speed up the stairs.

Even the general had arrived when Daniel stumbled up the last stairs, coffee and stained napkin in one hand and a slightly limp folder in the other, glasses a tad askew on his nose. “Sorry,” he muttered, taking his seat and stuffing the napkin in his pocket. The general was always late, which just meant that Daniel was later.

Hammond, who had been sitting with his elbows propped on the table, chin resting on his clasped hands, sat up and cleared his throat. “Now we may open up this briefing.”

“Excuse me,” said McKay, raising one hand. “Where is our agenda?”

“This isn’t your normal mission briefing,” said Hammond. “This is a pre-mission briefing, no agenda yet.”

“Aren’t our normal briefings pre-mission because they happen before the mission?” continued McKay.

“It’s not my terminology, Doctor,” said Hammond shortly. “So let’s just move on.”

“This isn’t about P2R-415 is it?” asked Dixon.

“No and yes,” said Hammond. “That mission was given to SG-5, and you’ve been given theirs, as you were informed. This was an advisory note sent down from people higher up than I, just considering the possibilities of the mission. This briefing is not about either of those missions, but that decision is related.”

“Well, if question time is over,” said Jack, glancing between McKay and Dixon across the table, “maybe we can hear what this is all about?”

“P2R-415 was a Goa’uld planet,” said Hammond. “The MALP was considerably well received, and it was determined a reasonable risk for an experienced SG team to handle. However, we did not take into account the scheduling of an important mission only a few days afterwards, which you, SG-1, are required to take part in. Not knowing how long the other mission would take, we decided against the gamble.”

McKay was the only one who looked confused.

“Important mission—you mean to kidnap Jolinar,” said Jack.

“You’re correct, Colonel,” said Hammond. “A request was made to discuss well in advance what the situation and tactics relating to that mission are, and I saw no reason to refuse.”

“Request?” asked Daniel.

“That would be mine,” came a voice from just below the top of the stairs.

They all turned to see as a man leaning on a cane entered the room. Despite his shuffling steps, he fit his general’s uniform well, and Daniel felt immediately impressed by the inner strength he saw emanating from the man. Beneath his bald head, he sent a piercing gaze to them all.

“Jacob, glad you could make it,” said Hammond, nodding to him. “Gentlemen, this is General Jacob Carter.”

“Carter, as in...?” began McKay, as Jack and Dixon stood in salute.

“Samantha’s father, yes,” said Jacob, taking a seat next to Hammond.

Daniel was surprised, but held it in, wondering exactly what this could be about. This was Sam’s father who had cancer, right? He certainly looked it, but why be here then?

“Jacob, this is the SG-1 that I told you about,” said Hammond. “Dr. Daniel Jackson, Colonel Jack O’Neill, Teal’c, Dr. Rodney McKay, and Major David Dixon.”

“An honor, gentlemen,” said Jacob, indicating that the military men should sit.

“I didn’t think you had clearance, sir,” commented Jack as he took his seat.

“A good assumption, Colonel,” said Jacob. “But when Hammond said that all he could tell me was that my daughter was in enemy hands, I made it my duty to get that clearance.” He smiled grimly. “If you bug enough people about something that you shouldn’t know about, they start to get worried about security and will do anything to keep you silent. My position meant they couldn’t get rid of me, so there was only one alternative. Of course, I think they’re assuming I’ll be pushing daisies long before I become a risk,” he added with a sardonic look.

“So you’re the one who called in this briefing?” asked Daniel.

“I advised that it should take place, yes,” said Jacob.

“And I agreed with him,” said Hammond. “Jacob’s an old friend of mine, and I trust his judgment.”

“I’ve been briefed on the reports of what happened, both when this first started and the recent events on—where was it—Abydos?” said Jacob. He glanced to Hammond, who nodded, and leaned forward a little in his chair while lowering his voice just enough to be confidential. “Gentlemen, I’m not going to rest in peace until I see my daughter again, and I don’t care what tactics you have to use. I’m not going to live long enough to get another chance at this. If this mission fails...” he trailed off meaningfully, looking at each of the team one by one.

Jack nodded.

“We understand, sir,” said Daniel, as no one else seemed to have anything to say.

“Good,” said Jacob, sitting back up and speaking in his previous, sharper, military tone. “Now, if I’m correct, you believe the evidence points to this parasite called Jolinar having influenced Sam, not just taken over her body.”

“That’s what I believe, yes,” said Daniel, jumping in before Jack could protest.

“I must ask—why?” said Jacob, confused curiosity mingling with the interrogation in his voice.

“I’m a linguist, general, and I was a very close friend of your daughter’s,” said Daniel, finding it a little disconcerting to look Jacob Carter in the eye, but holding the eyeline anyways. “I saw no absolute sign of trickery in our meeting on Abydos, which led me to believe she—Sam—was sincere. But,” he added, looking to Jack, “the attack on Abydos seemed to make plain that however sincere, her judgment has been compromised and perhaps overcome by Jolinar.”

“As would be expected,” said Jacob. “An assumption still, Dr. Jackson, but it doesn’t come from nowhere. You’re assuming Stockholm Syndrome?”

Daniel nodded.

“The research all points to a very close tie between the minds of symbiote and host,” McKay put in. “I don’t see how anyone could resist.”

Daniel chewed on the inside of his lip, not wanting to jump in on a mostly irrelevant point, but needing to say to himself at least that if the enemy wasn’t trying to convince or persuade, resistance should be possible. Amonet wasn’t trying to use Sha’re, she just wanted her body.

“When we get her back, I’ve noticed you don’t have a plan,” said Jacob. “As the doctor says, this isn’t your normal brainwashing.”

“It would not seem wise to focus on the end without first addressing how to get to that end,” said Teal’c.

“Exactly,” said Jacob, nodding his approval to Teal’c’s quiet figure near the end of the table. “That’s why we’re here.”

The team readjusted themselves in their seats, now understanding why they had been brought together.

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” began Dixon, “but what’s wrong with a simple stunning?”

Daniel shook his head. “She had a personal shield last time.”

“So we use a tranq dart,” said Jack. “If arrows work, surely those would.”

“Wait, wait,” said McKay. He had been sitting back, looking a little bored, but now jumped right in. “Carter’s a scientist and if she really is cooperating, she would remember that we know that fact.”

Dixon sighed. “He’s right, she might have thought of that, modified the shield.”

“So we bypass it altogether,” said Jacob, and the team turned to look at him. “This shield won’t block hands, will it?”

“No,” said McKay. “That’s not the point of it.”

“So someone gets near to her, needle hidden up the sleeve...” said Jacob.

“I don’t know about that,” said Daniel, brow furrowed, clenching and unclenching his hand as he thought. “Jolinar was very cautious; I don’t think she’d let Sam get too close to any of us. Or maybe Sam wouldn’t want to, now.”

“You think she might suspect treachery?” asked Jacob.

“We can’t know, that’s the problem,” said Dixon.

“We do have one thing on our side,” said Teal’c. “The bond between a parent and child is very close, and even enemies find it almost insurmountable. I do not believe Jolinar would think to try.”

“You mean me, right?” said Jacob. “She doesn’t know that I’m involved—she doesn’t even know I have cancer.”

“Indeed,” said Teal’c, nodding to him.

“So what, we have the general go up to her and tranq her?” asked McKay, slightly incredulous. “That’s our plan?”

“That thing isn’t going to be all sunshine and roses about this, you know,” spoke up Jack, who had been frowning ever since the discussion started. “How do we know she won’t just shoot as soon as anything gets fishy?”

“That’s a good point,” agreed Daniel. “Bringing you in, sir,” he said, looking to Jacob, “won’t seem natural if there’s no explanation.”

“So tell her I need to see her one last time,” said Jacob. “The reason for this meeting is to arrange some kind of treaty or alliance, right? It wouldn’t be lying to say I wanted to use it as my last chance to see her, since she’s not coming home yet.”

“Okay, two very big issues with this plan,” said McKay, sitting up straight and putting out two fingers for emphasis. “First—they can heal, so why not just shoot her? Incapacitated immediately. Have marines go through the gate and fire on sight.”

“And after her armor deflects it she opens fire with much better weapons,” said Jack, his voice sharp as a needle poking McKay’s idea bubble.

“Okay, but what about this one?” continued McKay unfazed. “What if this is all just a trap, and this Jolinar doesn’t need Sam anymore?”

“We’ll prepare for an ambush, Dr. McKay,” said Jacob, in an obvious tone.

“What if Jolinar pretends to be Sam long enough to put a real ambush into place? These are Goa’uld, you don’t know what kind of resources they have,” said McKay.

“Simple,” said Hammond finally. “If it is an ambush, she’ll be expecting bigger names than SG-1. We send you through the gate first, you exchange a few words to make sure of what we’re doing. Then, Jacob walks through. She can’t break cover by not acting like Captain Carter, so she’ll have to play along with Jacob for a little while.”

“And by that point it’ll all be over,” said Jack with a nod.

“Just in case, we can have a team of marines ready to go through at a moment’s notice,” said Dixon. “She can’t dial out, then.”

“While we wear bulletproof vests,” added Jack.

Jacob nodded at the two. “Not quite foolproof, as I’m sure our doctor friend was about to say, but reasonable.”

“Actually, I was going to say it sounds better than most of our mission plans,” murmured McKay.

“Thank you gentlemen, briefing closed,” said Hammond. “We’ll reconvene on this issue next week, then. Jacob?”

“I can make my own way, George,” nodded Jacob, not standing up.

Hammond nodded and stood to retire to his office.

There was silence and stillness around the table, and no one seemed ready to break the circle by leaving.

“So you were a team,” commented Jacob quietly, hands resting on the table instead of his lap. “A close one?”

“Indeed,” said Teal’c, surprising Daniel as he said at the same time, “Yes.”

“We didn’t know Captain Carter before,” said Dixon, indicating himself and McKay. “It was a four-man team originally.”

Jacob nodded. “From reading the mission reports, I expected you to be a lot less resigned to the situation,” he said. “But I would never have tried negotiating with a parasitic life form at all, no matter who they took. It’s well that you’ve since realized what needs to be done.”

“It wasn’t weakness, sir,” spoke up Daniel in defense of their actions. “We didn’t—still don’t—have a way to save Sam, and we were hoping we wouldn’t have to.” He sighed. “To be honest, it feels like we’re not giving her enough credit even now.”

“Maybe I’m just new to all this, but in my military we show our men our trust and respect by not letting the enemy distract us from the point,” said Jacob. “You get them out, and you don’t worry about whether their feelings are hurt; your determination to save them shows enough.”

Daniel half-smiled to himself—it was obvious that Jacob was a father, the way he spoke to Daniel. And he was probably right, for most of the military that was true. Daniel just wondered if Sam was military enough.

“Well, my medical care transferred with my clearance, so I will be seeing more of this base than I ever thought I would,” said Jacob, changing the subject. “Despite George, I expect to be very impressed, considering how much money is going into this place.”

“Of course, sir,” said Jack dryly.

Jacob rose, still a little unsteady, and walked across the room and down the stairs.

“So, we’re going on an easy mission next,” said Jack. “Joy.”

Apparently everyone had decided to leave all the heavy topics they’d discussed in the briefing room, and frankly Daniel didn’t mind. As Jack, Dixon, and McKay rose to go back to their own work, he paused, considering Jack’s words. Easy mission...routine exploration...he wondered if Dr. Jordan would like to come along for that one. He’d noticed the signs of life on the planet mentioned in the planet description; this might be the only chance for a while where he could let his old professor get off world. It wasn’t every day they got a boring, safe mission.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26 - Unsure

Sam started each day of this mission feeling strange, having to give the illusion of belonging while staying more withdrawn than ever before. The more she knew about these Jaffa, the more she felt distant. Jolinar did nothing to dissuade this, or even indicate that it wasn’t normal, but sometimes Sam thought of Teal’c and questioned why most of the day was spent in analyzing tactical situations.

It was their fourth day on this world, now, and it was about time for something to happen. Jolinar was becoming continually aware of how long their official mission was supposed to take, and how long they could stay on this one before checking back with the Tok’ra base. Thinking that if anyone knew about long missions it would be Jolinar, who had been gone for nine months and thought it routine, Sam worried a little more because Jolinar was worried. She had no true idea of how Tok’ra missions were meant to go, and it probably couldn’t be explained, so she was learning organically.

Last night had hit hard for the population of this world, a holiday of some sorts celebrating, of course, their great god Quetesh. Jolinar commented as she and Sam stayed back from the proceedings that this was a little more carefree than most Jaffa rituals. The level of the proceeding hadn’t been debauchery, quite, but the bonfires and feast-like meal portions had enlivened the Jaffa to a near-frightening level.

When the morning rose over the blackened logs still smoking, very few Jaffa rose for early morning march. At least, Sam thought, they weren’t passed out drunk over logs and benches. *Only because their symbiotes take away most hangover symptoms,* countered Jolinar.

But even though most had started their day a couple hours later, when the gate activated and brought two more Jaffa, few were there to greet them. Sam, however, was one.

“What is the status of this world?” demanded the first Jaffa through the gate, without a first prime symbol on his head but holding himself as one nonetheless.

“Did you not attend Kouralis last night?” asked Sh’rak, representative Jaffa of this world. He, Sam, and the other few who were fully clothed and armored stood in a straight line at least, even if the view beyond them was not so neat.

“Not to excess,” explained the visitor, glancing a scornful eye over their shoulders. “Our lord visited her royal temple last night, and found that the slaves are not putting forth their best. Many Jaffa were transfered to her breeding world to deal with the new unruly slaves, leaving few behind at the temple.”

Sam and Jolinar perked up at this statement.

“What do you need from us?” asked Sh’rak.

“Six warriors, ready to depart in ten breaths,” said the Jaffa firmly.

Sh’rak looked at the Sam and his other two Jaffa and swallowed briefly. Then he folded on arm across his chest in salute, bowed, and the commanding Jaffa nodded in return. There was no negotiation.

“Retrieve your weapons and spare no time for farewells,” Sh’rak commanded, and marched off toward the village.

*Excellent,* was Jolinar’s succinct comment. No need for further remark, they had both prepared for this step and knew what it meant.

It was a few more than ten breaths before Sh’rak came back with three more Jaffa in their armor, but nothing was said. The commanding Jaffa dialed the gate, and with one hand gesture he ordered Sam and her fellow Jaffa through.

They came through onto another very different world, verdant and humid, with a hot sun blazing down. A glittering lake shone in the distance, and an open pyramid that was bright  in the light as well. Sam was caught up for a moment in the magnificence, and then her eyes adjusted to the new light and she saw the small figures moving back and forth in the distance. Slaves. Maybe even some Abydonians. As much as Daniel tried to share his love of the great and magnificent cities of the past, Sam couldn’t think of them now without knowing full well how they came to be.

*Quetesh,* Jolinar half snorted as their new commanding officer ordered them towards the pyramid palace. *She thinks of pleasure as much as power, for her eyes as well as her flesh.*

Sam felt a tinge of discomfort every time Jolinar brought up Quetesh; she had mentioned several times that Goa’uld’s preferences, and all Sam could do was remember Hathor and yet something that seemed much worse. Of all the Goa’ulds to take people she was responsible for...

They moved quickly towards the massive building. It had been constructed out of some kind of metal, surprising considering its ancient design, and it was not quite finished. The majority of the slaves Jolinar and Sam saw, however, seemed to be transporting supplies that could not have been for building. Sam saw many jars and caskets of ostentatious design, as well as trays full of fancily designed foods.

*For the priests, as you would call them, and for her less-favored lotars,* commented Jolinar. *Quetesh herself very likely only visits when she is bored with her closest slaves, or when she wishes to make an appearance or demonstration. I remember that she kept to her ship nearly always.*

Still many yards off, the lead Jaffa stopped and turned to them. “Keep close eyes on the traffic,” he ordered. “Be ready to show force; these fools have been given some leave for our lord’s sake, but they are not protected.” His orders now given, he walked off to whatever other business he had on this world.

Sam and the other Jaffa spread out, the others because they were familiar with this role, Sam because she and Jolinar weren’t about to get involved just yet.

~Do you think there are any people from Abydos here?~ Sam asked.

*Unlikely,* answered Jolinar. *Not among these, in any case. We may find them among the builders, however.*

~So our plan?~

*Keep on the lookout for any indication of another planet. The breeding world mentioned may be a lead, if we can get the correct gate address. But for now we need to keep our place here.*

Sam nodded, and let Jolinar do what was the easiest part about this role as Jaffa, stand as master over others. This should have reminded Sam of how disturbing her ease with domination was, but the complete detachment from Jolinar’s regular personality that was evident even across the barrier between their minds calmed some of her worries. As for the others? Since Jolinar’s revelation, Sam had, she had to admit, had reservations. Sometimes there would be a twinge of doubt about Jolinar’s intentions, sometimes an instinctual moment of fear, even if soon diminished. One thing she had come to realize was that she had now spent more time interacting with the Tok’ra than she had ever done with the Goa’uld. She had thought more about the Tok’ra than the Goa’uld now too, even if crammed into a few short months. That amount of knowledge seemed to buffer her sense of trust against the still somewhat-unknown terror that the Goa’uld had always posed. She hoped that one day Jolinar would be nothing but a Tok’ra in her mind.

After a while, Sam turned her focus back onto their mission. Jolinar had her keen eyes fixed on the traffic coming to and from the temple, and she moved up and down the lanes as the minutes passed. Despite their relative surety that the Abydonians would not be among those trusted with temple property, neither wished to lose any opportunity. Any signs of newness, and Jolinar was ready to change her mind.

But it slowly proved disappointing. The slaves all seemed comfortable in their roles, barely needing the Jaffa’s direction at all. Also, Sam noted and conveyed to Jolinar, while there were several cultures present among the slaves, so far none had the look of the Abydonians. Jolinar watched more closely, and after a while had to agree. Apparently Quetesh’s rule was as small as they predicted.

Over the next couple hours, Jolinar inched her way towards the temple itself. The nearer they drew, the more Sam grew distracted by its structure. The Goa’uld were normally very advanced in their technology, but this temple seemed to have no practical purpose. It was plainly not a ship, neither could one land in or on it. Through the gaps in construction, Sam noted that there did not appear to be any technology, only adornment. And yet, Jolinar had said that Quetesh was shrewd. It made Sam even more itching to get a closer look.

Hours passed, and the colored robes of the slaves that had been so bright faded slowly as the sun dipped behind a thin cloud layer. Spirits, likewise, seemed to dim as the day went on, but what Sam noticed most of all was that there had never been many to begin with. The Jaffa were solely dedicated to their work; the slaves had no choice. Even fully believing they served their god, they had little energy to give to her work.

Before the day was out, Jolinar was at the bottom of the great steps that led up into the temple. Things had not slowed all day. Every few seconds a slave would walk past, hands or arms full. Sam marked the variety of items: fresh bread, silk, gold bricks, wooden idols, tapestries, lamp oil, polished chains, carpet, jewelry and coin baskets, perfume, and so forth. Inside the temple, Jaffa stood round in fewer numbers.

*They only fear that some slaves may escape into the woods or to the gate,* commented Jolinar after a long silence. *Where could a slave go in here?*

~Why don’t we go in?~ asked Sam. ~We have seen everything else.~

*Patience,* said Jolinar.

Sam chortled.

*Don’t laugh, it is good advice,* protested Jolinar.

Sam did settle herself for a little more waiting, and wondered about their goals for tomorrow. Until they found an address for one of Quetesh’s breeding worlds, or any other hint to where the Abydonians might be, they were at a dead end and yet could not leave. It would only be a couple days, however, before their absence would be far too suspicious to the Tok’ra. Jolinar had acknowledged this earlier, but Sam wondered what her limit would be.

The sun sunk behind the crisscrossed beams of the pyramid tall above them, and Jolinar eased her way into the temple courtyard. Despite the day not being over, many of the sounds and smells seemed to dull in the evening air, leaving mainly the loud sounds of construction far above. And once sunset came, even those stopped once and for all. The temple lights were brighter than most, but even they could not remove all shadows. Jolinar kept herself in the spy-friendly half-light and began to look closely for the builders coming down and to their quarters.

A few passed, then a few more, going on until a few hundred had passed. There were only a couple that might have been Abydonian, but the air that Jolinar read in their figure and manner of movement seemed to belie it. No, these unfortunate souls had been under the whip for more than the past two weeks. Frustrated, Jolinar eventually left the temple to its few late-night guardians and descended into the complexes around the rest of the planet. Tonight they would have to spend with the Jaffa, and hopefully tomorrow they could find something more.

The tents and buildings common to all Goa’uld settlements were crowded beyond the lake, with only few fires among them so as not to diminish the glowing glory of Quetesh’s temple. Jolinar walked through, catching sight of only a few faces in the flickering torchlight.

They were about near their destination, when two Jaffa and a slave walked towards them. Jolinar saw nothing until the slave gave her a second glance. The light was bright at that spot, but even then it took a couple seconds for Sam and Jolinar to realize what they saw.

~Kasuf?~

If he had recognized them at all, Kasuf wisely chose to stay low, and continued walking past them without another look. Despite their sudden curiosity, Sam and Jolinar did the same.

~How?~ asked Sam, without a full question.

Jolinar said nothing. After she had gone far enough, she turned around and watched as Kasuf and his two Jaffa escorts disappeared into a building. *That was neither slave nor Jaffa housing,* she said. *Something strange is going on.*

But Sam was more intrigued than she had been all day. ~We have something, at least,~ she said.

Jolinar finished walking into the torchless Jaffa housing, finding an empty cot in the darkness and shedding her armor as quietly as possible. *We saw no other Abydonians,* she said.

~So why is he here?~ Sam continued the line of questioning. ~Interrogation?~

*He would have been in prison, then,* said Jolinar. Removing her skull cap as the final piece, she ran her hands once through her hair to loosen it from its sweat-flattened state. *No, there must be possibilities that we cannot judge. Tomorrow we must find our way to him.*

As Jolinar lay down on the cot, pulling up the blanket over the tunic she wore beneath the armor, Sam could already feel her symbiote’s active thoughts fading as sleep came. Sam was surprised to find that she also was growing drowsy; their sleep patterns had rarely aligned so well. Even with developments furthering, she was asleep within minutes.

ooooooo

Daniel was about ready to leave the SGC early, having a few supplies to pick up in Colorado Springs before the mission in two days, when his email pinged. He barely tossed the program a glance, getting ready to logout—and then he saw who had sent it. One thing was sure; he wasn’t going to ignore Janet.

Sighing, looking at his watch, he put down his stuff and opened up his top drawer. Digging around for a few seconds, he found the file he was looking for. Then, hopping in the elevator, he made his way to the infirmary.

“Dr. Jackson?” said Janet, eyes wide in her round face. “What is this, record time?”

“Here’s the schedule,” he said, handing her the papers. “I, uh, didn’t fill in all the days. Kind of got a little busy.”

“And you apparently didn’t read to the end of the email,” said Janet, smiling up at him as she took the file. “This wasn’t due until tomorrow—it only takes a few hours to do the analysis, and then a few more to get it ready for your mission the day after. I just assumed you wouldn’t notice that you had mail until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh,” said Daniel blinking. Then, with a quick smile, “Surprise.”

Janet chuckled. “I know you kept track, but I’d like to hear from you personally: how do you think this mixture worked?”

Daniel paused, already half-forgetting what he had planned to do. “Well, it stopped most of my allergen symptoms around base,” he said. “So maybe environmental and food allergies of Earth are covered.”

“That would make sense,” said Janet. “I was hoping this level of antihistamine would work for other worlds as well, though.”

“Well, it wasn’t too bad,” said Daniel. He paused, then added, “When I remembered to take them.”

Janet pursed her lips. “Well, I’ll get you your next set of doses by next mission, but I’ll need you to be more consistent. You do know what that means, Dr. Jackson?”

“Yes,” said Daniel, nodding. “I do.”

Janet smiled. “Don’t bother trying that ploy, or I’ll put Dr. McKay in charge of reminding you.”

“You wouldn’t,” protested Daniel.

“Can you deny that it would work?” asked Janet. Daniel opened his mouth, and closed it again. “So I thought,” she said. “Thank you, Dr. Jackson, that is all.”

Janet walked briskly across her infirmary, heels clicking loudly in the quiet. Daniel put his hands in his pocket, and walked back towards the elevator.

“Dr. Jackson?”

He stopped, catching the voice to his right. Turning, he saw Jacob Carter propped up in one of the beds. “General sir,” he said, surprised. Apart from the briefing, he hadn’t seen or heard of Sam’s father at all.

“Do you have a moment?” Jacob asked.

Daniel nodded, walking over to his bed. The older man looked tired, frailer than the last time Daniel had seen him. There were circles under his eyes, and even those were pale, only the still-strong light of his spirit keeping them from looking lifeless.

“Your doctors have had me bedridden almost from day one,” Jacob started, not completely grumbling, “which has given me a lot of time to think—a lot more than before I came here.”

Daniel wasn’t sure where things were going, but thankfully Jacob didn’t ramble.

“Your theory about Sam—in the briefing report, all of you seemed to imply that Jolinar was impersonating her, nothing more,” Jacob said, looking closely at Daniel. “But now your opinions seem to have shifted towards thinking that Sam herself was part of it, and that Jolinar had only influenced her. Which is it, in your opinion?”

“You don’t miss much,” commented Daniel, gathering his thoughts.

“I would hope not, given my former occupation,” said Jacob, looking out from under his brow at Daniel. “Well?”

“I actually hadn’t noticed that discrepancy,” admitted Daniel, taking a seat next to Jacob. “I guess I always believed Sam was there, even if she had changed. The others weren’t so convinced then, but maybe deep down they think my account was plausible. Maybe they just think that it’s Sam’s influence that makes Jolinar’s behavior different.” He shrugged, withdrawing his hands from his pockets and letting them rest in his lap.

“I obviously can’t have a strong opinion on the subject,” said Jacob, inhaling deeply. “And even your people—neither side has more evidence in its favor, so it would be easy to switch. But Dr. Jackson, I want to know your opinion. You saw her; so did Teal’c, but I have to admit I’m a little frightened of him,” finished Jacob with a dry half-smile.

Daniel gave an answering smile, even though his intimidation by Teal’c had ended quite some time ago, except for a little vestigial impression of just how powerful the Jaffa was. “I think my opinion hasn’t changed,” he said. “I thought that I saw Sam on Abydos, that she was different but not in the way that an impersonation is. What happened later was puzzling, but it also fits the theory.” He exhaled after a pause. “I’d be happy to be proved wrong, though.”

Jacob nodded. “It would make the rescue easier. What comes after, at least.”

“Whatever’s going on, we’ll make it right eventually,” said Daniel, nodding his head. “Even if it takes a lot of patience.”

Jacob nodded his head once. Daniel sat still for a moment, thinking. Jacob cleared his throat and looked closely at Daniel. “Dr. Jackson, were you and my daughter romantically involved?” he asked pointedly.

Daniel coughed. “What? Sam? Uh, no,” he foundered.

Jacob put up a hand, even if weakly. “Never mind, I’ve got my answer,” he said. “Just a father’s prerogative, you know.”

Daniel looked grateful.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you were,” added Jacob, giving him a look. “You’re a good man, from what I’ve seen.”

“I’m also married,” explained Daniel.

“Oh,” said Jacob.

Daniel was partly glad that Jacob didn’t ask for a further explanation of that story. No more conversation to be had, he then remembered his reason for coming here at all. There might be a chance to finish all his trips if he hurried. “Well, I have some other things to get done this afternoon,” he said, standing up.

Jacob nodded. “I will see you again some other day, then,” he said.

Daniel nodded back and left the infirmary. He had not been expecting that conversation at all, but he wasn’t likely to forget it. One thing was sure: Sam’s way of intriguing people was probably a genetic trait.

ooooooo

The morning shift on Quetesh’s temple planet was getting into place by the time Sam and Jolinar had their own plan ready. They had woken early and, as inconspicuously as possible, tried to locate Kasuf and see if there was any possible way to come into contact. He was not continually escorted, they found out, but never left the vicinity of attentive Jaffa. At last, however, he and some of the Jaffa made their way towards the temple.

Since that was once again Jolinar’s area of duty, they had no qualms in following at a distance. Like the other slaves, he was clad in brightly colored robes of various hues, in a style that would have been interesting had it not been the garb of slavery. From the occasional glimpse of his face that they caught, Sam and Jolinar both noticed that he looked wearier than ever before, but not entirely downtrodden.

Before the sun had climbed to the peak of the pyramid as they saw it from below, Kasuf was accompanied into the very temple itself. There were more Jaffa today, and more slaves, all busy at work in achieving perfection for their god. Farther back from the large open space in the center of the massive building, there was a smaller chamber where a gilded throne sat among glittering golden and bejeweled walls. Kasuf went to his knees automatically, but Sam guessed that it was only because the Jaffa would otherwise force the issue.

The Jaffa returned to the outer room, apparently until Kasuf’s penance or prayers were concluded. He did not move from his kneeling position. Jolinar had given Sam control for the moment, and she glanced around the room. No one was within a hundred feet. Walking forward until she could stand behind one of the columns, she decided that this would be a safe place.

“Kasuf,” she whispered, her voice carrying enough in the relative quiet of this place.

Kasuf’s head rose an inch, but he said nothing.

“Kasuf, do not look at me, but nod if you hear?”

Kasuf slowly nodded. “Who is it?” he answered in a low tone.

“Sam Carter again,” said Sam.

“How are you here?” asked Kasuf back.

“It’s kind of complicated, but we were looking for you and your people,” said Sam.

“I did not seek your help,” said Kasuf.

Sam blinked. Was she supposed to take that as an insult? Kasuf’s back was still to her, and he was holding very still.

“Where is your team, where is SG-1?” asked Kasuf, sounding confused.

“You contacted them?” asked Sam.

“Yes, and they saved most of us,” said Kasuf, lowering his head as he still knelt. “You are not here at their request?”

Sam was confused, and the pieces still flew around her head as she tried to put them in order.

*Your team saved some of the Abydonians, but not all,* said Jolinar. *That is impressive by itself.*

~But how did they know?~ asked Sam.

“Carter?” asked Kasuf uncertainly.

“How did it happen?” asked Sam. “Does SG-1 know you’re here?”

“I do not know, I was taken before they arrived,” said Kasuf. “But there was commotion before Heru’ur came, and my people said that Teal’c tried to rescue them. There are only several hundreds of us enslaved now, so the others must have been saved.”

“And they weren’t killed on the planet or captured by Heru’ur.”

“I would not have expected that,” said Kasuf easily.

Sam found his firm belief in her people endearing, but she would not have made such an assumption.

“Are you here to rescue us?” asked Kasuf.

Sam breathed out, now caught up and ready to address the subject she had planned for. “That’s our plan,” she said. “We didn’t see any of your people here, though.”

“There are none at this time,” said Kasuf. “Many were taken to where they could give their children to the false god, and some were taken to serve in her royal court. The others were sent here, but my people did not submit easily. I am to serve penance in prayer while they do so through hard labor, until they are ready to return and prepare this place for the false god’s return.”

Sam sighed.

*Complicated,* commented Jolinar. *What a shocking revelation.*

“Do you know the locations of these worlds?” asked Sam.

*Quetesh’s court is on her flagship,* commented Jolinar.

“No, I do not,” Kasuf answered.

Sam grimaced. ~So?~

*We can find the breeding worlds on our own, possibly,* said Jolinar. *But only time will bring the workers to this place; the places they send unruly workers are well guarded and kept shrouded in secrecy.*

~So we keep up our position here,~ agreed Sam. “Kasuf?” she said aloud. “We think we  can find the others, but we won’t be able to do anything until your people come back here.”

“I understand,” said Kasuf.

“We may not come to you again for a while,” said Sam.

Kasuf gave a final nod, and then Jolinar and Sam left the inner chamber. Their role on this planet had suddenly become more simple, but it was as if they had stepped back from the picture and saw a web of complexities that they could not have guessed from the small portion they had been looking at.

~What about Quetesh’s court?~ asked Sam.

*We will deal with that once we get there,* said Jolinar. *There will only be a few there; Quetesh is discriminate in her closest slaves. If we get that far and remain successful, we shall be fortunate.*

~So how will we back out of this and get back to the Tok’ra?~ asked Sam after a mental nod.

*Carefully,* said Jolinar. *If you had not noticed, the traffic to this world is even more so than on the previous world. Be glad we are not encamped on a world with a self-sufficient and settled civilization where the gate is only activated rarely.*

Sam nodded. She noticed that Jolinar’s tension and concentration had relaxed a little, and her mood eased out. Despite the frustration of further complications, they had gotten good news today. Most of their job was already done, and they could only assume that SG-1 had taken the other Abydonians to safety; they knew when and mostly where the rest of the captives could be found; they had a plan that was based on certainties. Sam had to admit, she was feeling good as well—not elated, but good.

Her one remaining question, however, was how and why her team had ended up in a position to help the Abydonians. What were they planning to do? What did they think happened? It was only a week before she would face them again, but she wondered what answers she would get.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27 - Relaxation

Hammond had been enjoying the quiet day at the SGC. SG-1 was not on a mission, and no other team was embarking today. Instead, they were all on leave or already on an adventure-less mission. Things rarely worked out this way, but Hammond relished them when they did. He had even taken the time to visit Jacob in the infirmary. His heart was sore for his old friend, especially as he saw how Jacob grew daily worse despite all the best efforts, but it was some small comfort to be available for him if he needed to talk. And apart from the occasional squabble among scientists or other base personnel, his job had flowed smoothly today.

Both McKay and Jackson had submitted their reports of scientists to recruit early on, but the other departments had taken a little longer. Hammond had been supervising some of it, but much of it was below his level of concern and so he only saw the results. There were a few new physicists, biologists, chemists, engineers, and a psychologist, not to mention some more medical assistants, just to maintain the needs of the SGC itself; many more had been recruited to R&D at Area 51. Like in any scientific community, or so Hammond had been told, their differing opinions frequently led to loud debate and bickering, and occasionally it would need a general’s intervention.

Hammond had to admit to himself, he probably should have retired as he had planned. Running a military operation that explored other planets was a fascinating idea, but nowhere in the fine print had he read anything about negotiating between the Nobel convention and his own airmen in very close underground quarters. He had to shake his head sometimes. Dr. Jackson’s proposal for a broader science contingent on base had been met with the sort of enthusiasm which meant that the government had just been ready to put it forward as their own suggestion, and Hammond understood their reasons. It was just—well, scientists were beyond Hammond’s ken.

“Ah yes, General.”

As was Jack O’Neill. “Come in, Colonel,” said Hammond, trying to hide the hint of apprehension that always met him on seeing his foremost team leader.


Jack all but strolled in, tossing a file from one hand to another as if it were a hot potato. “Finally, I am ready to get this into someone else’s hands,” he said.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“No, sir, it is not my deepest apologies for all the trouble I’ve given you—that’s still in first draft,” said Jack.

Hammond gave him the look.

Jack sobered up quickly, something he did more often these days. “It is, though, the paperwork for transferring all the people of Abydos to a new world.”

Hammond put out his hand to take it. “Would you like to sit, Colonel?”

“No, sir, I don’t expect to be here that long,” said Jack lightly.

Hammond scanned the file speedily. “This other signature here?”

“Adros,” said Jack with a sigh. “Hopefully the last I will see of him for a very long time,” he muttered. Off Hammond’s look he added, “Oh, he’s a good kid, Daniel’s type, but after hearing oh so many times why he didn’t think his people could live on a world that was not covered in sand...well, surely you understand.”

“He’s appointed himself as leader then, in Kasuf’s absence?” asked Hammond. When he’d appointed Jack in charge of the Abydonians, he hadn’t expected regular reports, but he had heard absolutely nothing of them since their temporary settlement on the Alpha Site.

“I think he’d prefer ambassador,” said Jack. “Actually, they’d like to name Daniel as honorary leader, since he’s the closest heir of Kasuf, but I told them they wouldn’t like how big his head would get.”

“So Adros is as close as they’re getting,” said Hammond.

“Well, sir, they think we’ll rescue Kasuf and the rest of their people,” said Jack pointedly, hands stilling for a few seconds.

“You told them that we have no information on that?”

“Yes, sir,” said Jack. Hammond could see the frustration in his face; it was cutting him just as much as Daniel at how little they could do.

“Until they’re settled down on their new home, you are still in charge of keeping me apprised, Colonel,” said Hammond, changing the subject and closing the file. “I’ll sign these and get you the permission to start movement as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Jack, clapping his hands lightly together and turning on a heel to leave.

Hammond settled back into his very comfy chair, looking more closely at the file to see where to sign.

“Um, sir?” A young woman in a pale blue labcoat knocked at his open door. At that distance, Hammond had to squint to see Chloe Dorris, Ph.D on her nametag.

“Yes, Dr.?” asked Hammond.

“Is there any way to keep the marines from barging into the labs every time there’s a little explosion?” she asked, her light voice exasperated.

“What exactly are you detonating?” asked Hammond, suspiciously.

“We’re testing the effects of Jaffa weaponry on various Earth elements, in very small increments,” Chloe said, holding up two fingertips held very close together. “It’s not dangerous, just a little smoky.”

“Ma’am, those marines are there for your safety, I suggest you tolerate them,” suggested Hammond.

Giving a light feminine sigh, she walked off. Hammond gave a silent snort, and turned back to Jack’s report file.

ooooooo

With a little luck, a little obscurity, and just enough stress to get their blood going, Jolinar and Sam made their retreat from Quetesh’s temple world through the gate to an empty one, and then from there back to the Tok’ra home-world itself. The night on the planet had not brought anything to destroy their bare optimism, and so they arrived home not needing to act in order to appear satisfied.

Sam met with Garshaw to relate what they had learned from Ollodrin, and found that Jolinar had a moment of surprise at just how much there was. ~Someone wasn’t listening,~ insinuated Sam playfully. Garshaw herself was expressionless, a look Sam had only seen when the Tok’ra leader was talking to other Tok’ra; she had always had an annoying hint of anticipation in her eye when talking to Sam. Anticipation of what, Sam had never figured out. At the end, Garshaw gave a short nod, and Sam walked off.

The mess hall was their first stop. They had not taken the time to eat breakfast this morning, both thinking that it would be best to avoid any notice on Quetesh’s world at all, even of the innocuous kind. Sam glanced over the food available and took some of her favorites, pausing even without subtle nudging from her symbiote to grab the rare off-world fruit that Jolinar loved, and then she took her seat. Much of the Tok’ra staples were soft in flavor, being the foods that could be grown underground with their technology, but they were supplemented with foods acquired through trade that made the meals about as good as MREs. Well, that was harsh—some of them were quite good, once Sam was used to the flavors. No spices, though; the Goa’uld coveted those for themselves, and the Tok’ra saw it as an unnecessary risk to try to acquire them. And maybe if Sam had grown up with that mindset, she would have agreed with it.

Despite the lack of thoughts directed to her, Sam noticed that Jolinar’s mind was busy while Sam ate. She couldn’t be sure what it was, but despite the barrier between them Sam enjoyed Jolinar like this. The symbiote seemed to gravitate most often between direct speech thoughts and the sometimes-uncomfortable silence of privatized ones. This mental hum, Sam had learned, was only capable when symbiotes did not think of keeping their mind quiet. Sam didn’t comment on it, but she liked it; it reminded her of being in rooms full of excited scientists muttering their thought processes to themselves. She knew Jolinar had nothing so scientifically complex to think about, but the feeling was still the same.

Glancing around the mess hall, she saw a few Tok’ra that she recognized. Then her brow creased, and she chewed the patty that tasted like a cross between potato and pumpkin a little more rhythmically. Jolinar had a few friends on this base, and Sam had been introduced to them, but Jolinar had only sought time with them on a few occasions over these months. Sam had attributed that after-the-fact to Martouf’s comment about Tok’ra life-spans and how long they could wait without impatience. Not now, though.

Drawing her thoughts to herself, gently so as not to alert Jolinar, Sam began to brainstorm. The first suspicion that came to mind was that Jolinar had only just started to get over the loss of Rosha. The unspoken loss. The one that Sam had expected to overwhelm her during the first few days of blending, and yet had remained elusive and cryptic. From the vague comments, she had assumed that the Tok’ra did not deal with grief the same way that she knew. And that was likely true, but Sam now doubted that they were as alien as her first assumption. The private thoughts, the distant behavior to old comrades, the dedication to work with few outside activities...it added up in Sam’s mind to a kind of depression.

And with that conclusion, she answered for herself many questions she hadn’t been asking. Part of her felt that she should have noticed sooner, the other part was glad she had noticed it as things were getting better, as she would have had little idea how to help Jolinar. But, as made sense, the symbiote had recovered on her own. Sam wondered if Martouf or Lantash had known—surely they must have, Lantash at least, knowing what loss had happened and feeling it themselves. Their relationship rested on a lot of unspoken words, surprising considering Martouf’s eloquence, but Sam had no doubt that it had been enough for them.

As if in answer to her thoughts, she looked up to see the white flash of Martouf’s smile as he crossed the mess hall to her. Hiding a smile, Sam suppressed not for the first time the thought that the Tok’ra must have some kind of orthodontist.

“You forgot to eat?” asked Martouf, sitting across from her as always.

“We thought it best to leave early,” said Sam, remembering their cover story of having been on Ollodrin’s world the whole time. “The gate seemed unguarded, but you never know.”

Martouf nodded. “I am always surprised at how Ollodrin takes so long to find when his world is so calm.”

Sam’s brow creased again. “Hmm, yes, I didn’t really think of that. He didn’t strike me as paranoid.”

“Because he is not,” explained Martouf. “Just—unflinchingly careful. His heart is free, but wherever his mind is at work there is perfect order.”

“You know him then?” asked Sam.

“I used to be his usual contact,” said Martouf.

“Back when you went on more missions,” Sam followed from his statement.

“More infiltration, yes,” said Martouf with a faint smile in his eyes. “I believe that in his heart Lantash still misses those times. But I quickly grow weary of subterfuge, and he is not completely content when I am not, so there is no regret.”

“I think I enjoy the missions, more than I thought I would at least,” said Sam, taking a sip of her warm tea-like drink.

Martouf’s head tilted a little, his eyes darting to look into hers, but they withdrew and he said nothing.

“What?” asked Sam, curious.

He shook his head. “It is nothing. I have heard from Garshaw of Ollodrin’s research, but did you speak to him personally?”

“Not really, sorry,” said Sam. “We were—kind of in a hurry.”

Martouf nodded. “Yes, I can see why Jolinar would be hasty after the finding took so long.”

Sam nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt at not letting Martouf in on the truth. Jolinar’s mental hum had ceased once Martouf began talking, but she didn’t seem to have anything urgent to say. Turning her attention back to her other companion, Martouf’s eyes seemed to have grown a little distant as Sam assumed he was communing with Lantash. After a moment, he closed his eyes and Lantash spoke next.

“Samantha, greetings,” he said.

“And to you,” Sam answered, always a little amused by Lantash’s speech patterns.

“There were some messages for you while you were gone,” said Lantash. “None urgent, or we should have spoken sooner, but you should know. Sho’nar, Kurlsa’s host, wished to send his thanks to you. His time has been difficult, but he wishes to know that he recognizes its relative brevity is because of you and Jolinar.”

Sam nodded, a little surprised but appreciative.

“He and Lensin, Cordesh’s host, have been making progress together,” added Martouf, breaking in. “Despite the tragedy, their having mutual experience for support was perhaps worth Cordesh’s double offense.”

Sam nodded again, glad for the extra information. She had asked before if Martouf helped with hosts and had been told no, but he was a close friend of the Tok’ra version of a psychiatrist.

Lantash returned. “Also, Reyfa and Anise sent word on the Goa’uld lab that you discovered. Anise broke the code on the locked files in the database, and there is much fascinating information.” He paused and frowned. “I believe she mentioned Ra and some projects, but truth be told I did not see the importance of all her words.”

Sam smiled. “That’s okay, I can always ask her or Reyfa to explain.”

“Sha’re wishes to speak to you about Shifu,” Lantash continued, “and when I talked to Garshaw just now she mentioned that the Council wishes to meet with you before your next mission.”

“Any particular reason?” asked Sam.

“I believe it is about your parley with your own people,” said Lantash.

“Mm,” Sam said.

“Don’t be overwhelmed, you are not obliged to do it all at once,” added Lantash, settling back comfortably in his chair. “In fact, I do not think the scientists expect a quick response, and I know that Sho’nar and Lensin do not expect one at all.”


Sam gave him a look.

“Oh, yes, you didn’t need to be told that,” said Lantash, his tone dry. “Or so you think.”

“Don’t try to mess with me, it won’t work,” Sam muttered through a mouthful of food.

As she swallowed, Jolinar gave a gentle press for control, and Sam granted it. Jolinar tactfully waited until Sam had finished swallowing, so that her throat muscles were not suddenly in another’s power.

“Lantash, you have annoyed my host into silence,” said Jolinar, taking another sip of her drink.

“You know I do not believe that,” said Lantash with a breathy snort.

“It was that or you annoyed me into speech.”

“Also unbelievable,” said Lantash. He leaned across the small table, Jolinar reciprocated, and they kissed briefly. Sam had noticed for some time now that they had dropped the pretense that there was no desire for more in all their interaction of that nature. “Welcome back,” he said in a low tone when they separated.

“I am soon gone again,” said Jolinar.

“So we heard,” said Lantash. “And with your parley in four days?”

“What would I spend four days here doing?” asked Jolinar.

Lantash’s face lost a little of its lightness, and Martouf came forward when his partner had no words. “Selmak is losing the battle swiftly,” he said. “She may not have more than twice these four days.”

“I will not sit here and watch,” said Jolinar firmly.

“I am not pressing you to,” said Martouf quietly. “It was a fact only.”

Jolinar swallowed, and there was no food in her throat.

~Hey, you okay with this?~ asked Sam, her mind a little more aware of Jolinar since her private revelation.

*What?* asked Jolinar.

~Well, I don’t think they’re going to ask, so I might as well,~ said Sam.

*You were not a student of the mind on your world, where does this come from?*

~I might as well be a student of your mind, since I can’t exactly help it. And, yes, I know that you and Selmak seem to have this ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ contract for this. But what do you always say? Duty isn’t everything?~

“Jolinar, it would do you well to listen,” said Martouf, speaking over Sam’s last couple words.

Jolinar looked at him closely.

“No, I cannot see into your mind,” he said with a wry smile. “But I know Samantha, and I think by your reaction that my guess as to your conversation was accurate.”

“If your goal is to make me talk, then I will talk,” Jolinar answered them both. “But you will not be satisfied.” There was a welcoming pause from both parties before Jolinar finished her thoughts. “The loss of Selmak and Saroosh will be a deep wound to me, and it has already begun to smart. But I have no words to say, and I know they have no words for me to hear, so I do not try.”

Martouf nodded, a darkness settling in his usually bright eyes. “For ones so full of opinions, they have taken this end very silently.”

“As is only their right,” Jolinar sighed. “Please, Martouf, have we not settled this?”

“I had nothing further to say,” said Martouf, his smile returning a little.

“I will meet with Sha’re, and then the Council, and then I wish for a restful evening,” said Jolinar.

“Checkers?” asked Martouf. “Selmak taught me how to play.”

“I do not know, but I am sure Samantha will teach me,” said Jolinar. “Yes, that will be well indeed.”

“Then I shall look forward to seeing you then,” said Martouf. Reaching out his hand, he squeezed hers and rose to depart.

Jolinar and Sam soon followed.

ooooooo

“Good heavens, Daniel, you poor thing,” were Dr. Jordan’s first words upon descending many floors in the elevator into Stargate Command.

“Hmm?” asked Daniel.

“This must give you worse SAD then your stint in Oregon,” continued Jordan, seemingly commenting as the words came to his head. “And you have spent the last three years here?”

“A good third of it was offworld, remember?” said Daniel, understanding him at last.

“Ah yes, I do keep forgetting that,” said Jordan with a crinkled smile. “My mind is very diligent in keeping me from foolish thoughts, and I have not yet trained it to accept other worlds completely. It is quietly determined to mend me of my brief stint into this folly.”

Daniel grinned broadly at him. “It does feel like that, or so I’ve been told.”

After getting Hammond’s permission to invited Dr. Jordan on their next quiet mission, it had been a short effort to get the good professor himself. Despite his close work with Daniel’s old companions Stephen Rayner and Sarah Gardner, Jordan had been able to withdraw himself with no questions, or so he said. And he was going to get the grand tour before the mission much later that day—the planet they would be going to had a day cycle nearly the opposite of Earth’s, which would have made morning on Earth evening on the planet.

“So, this team of yours...they are not all scientists?” asked Jordan.

“Oh—no,” said Daniel, wondering how that fact had managed to escape his explanation. “Jack and Dixon are U.S. military, Teal’c is an alien warrior, a Jaffa like I mentioned, and Rodney McKay’s an astrophysicist.”

“Oh, yes, I see,” said Jordan, lips pursing as he took in this information. “And you are respected on this team? Well, well.”

“It’s amazing how this place has validated archaeologists,” said Daniel, hands demonstrating his earnestness as he swept them across the scene before them.

“More than those idiotic Spielberg films, certainly,” snorted Jordan.

Daniel nodded, walking past one of the armories towards the guest quarters to get Jordan settled before the rest of the tour. He had thought about asking Hammond for VIP quarters, but knew his old professor too well to think he’d just go along with that.

“Hey, Jackson, need a weapon?” called Dixon, walking out of the armory with two sidearms, a P-90, a MP-5, and a gun that Daniel didn’t recognize.

“What are you doing with those?” asked Daniel, suspicion and curiosity mingled seamlessly as he eyed his tallest teammate.

“Teal’c challenged me to a match—he hasn’t used many of our weapons, but he insists they are simple enough,” said Dixon, an evil grin on his face. “I also taught him how to bet.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t bet with those odds,” offered Daniel.

“Is this the guy?” asked Dixon, pointing towards Dr. Jordan with a couple guns as his hands were occupied.

“If by ‘the guy’ you mean the father of the archaeological knowledge of this base, then yes, I am him,” said Dr. Jordan, a paragon of good humor in face and tone. “You are?”

Dixon chuckled. “Dave Dixon, SG-1. You’re Jackson’s professor, eh...lots of intriguing stories there?”

“Possibly,” said Jordan with what might have been a wink.

“I’d shake your hand, but well, you see,” said Dixon, holding his weapons out.

“As do you,” said Jordan, holding out hands that carried two luggage bags.

“See you later, then, doctors,” said Dixon before walking past them to the elevator.

Daniel and Jordan continued down the hall. Jordan commented in a low tone, “I have to admit, Daniel, I did not expect that.”

“Dixon’s a character,” acknowledged Daniel. “Not that that makes him unique here.”

After Jordan dropped off his bags and acquired his keycard, Daniel decided to take him to level 16 and the labs. It was just about lunchtime and the scientists were mostly on break, giving Daniel an unhindered ability to show Dr. Jordan around. He was intrigued by the Celtic designs from Cimmeria, but not uncharacteristically leapt for a booklet on one of the desks.

“Daniel?” he asked, eyes lit up as he read its cover.

“Oh, yes!” said Daniel, suddenly remembering. “We can translate Linear A—mostly.”

“It’s alien?” asked Jordan, astonished but not incredulous.

“Yes, actually,” said Daniel, hands growing more excited, walking over to look over Jordan’s shoulder as he flipped through the pages of detailed drawings and notes. “This was one of our first missions, actually; Teal’c recognized it as Ancient Goa’uld, and we’ve been using his help to sort out the phonology and lexicon ever since.”

“And you didn’t tell me this?” said Jordan, wide-eyed and fascinated, looking as if he was soaking up every piece of information on the pages.

“Well, there is a pretty large amount of amazing things going on here,” explained Daniel with a shrug.

“Yo, Danny boy!”

Daniel sighed and didn’t turn around. “Jack...” The slight questioning tone of his voice was to indicate that a), Jack knew Daniel hated that name, and b), he shouldn’t make an ass of himself in front of Jordan.

“Daniel,” answered Jack, his own meaning pretty much harmless. “Ah yes, the father nerd,” he continued, coming forward and offering his hand towards Dr. Jordan.

“Jack O’Neill?” asked Jordan in answer.

“Don’t tell me I have a reputation,” said Jack, leaning slightly back.

“An infamous one, perhaps,” said Jordan with a smile and shaking Jack’s hand. “You’re interested in archaeology?”

“Oh no,” Jack said, dragging the last syllable out for a couple seconds. “Just—came to see the guest, and to let you know where you’ll find your uniform.”

“I’ve got that covered, Jack,” said Daniel.

“Really?” said Jack. He looked to Jordan, pointing a finger towards Daniel. “You may not have noticed, but that’s an amazing feat.”

“Did you hear about Dixon and Teal’c?” asked Daniel, as Jack seemed about to depart.

“On my way,” said Jack. “Ten bucks says its a tie.”

“I’m not betting,” said Daniel.

Jack tossed him a wry grin before sliding out the door and down the hall.

“May I meet this Teal’c?” asked Jordan. “And the Dr. McKay you mentioned.”

“Um, sure,” said Daniel. He wasn’t sure how his professor would take these two personalities, but it was better to find out earlier than later. As they walked out to the elevator to finish the tour of SG-1, though, Daniel felt confident that things would go well. He had forgotten how much of his own open mind had been cultivated by Dr. Jordan; if only the man was not so tied up in the real world, he would have made a marvelous asset to the SGC.

ooooooo

In a small common area just off from the mess hall, the lights were mostly dimmed to a merely functional glow. In the brightest corner, Sam and Jolinar, and Martouf and Lantash, sat on two low chairs around what was the Tok’ra equivalent of a coffee table. On their way there, Sam had stopped by to see Sha’re and to pick up her checker board. Sha’re had not wanted to talk about what was on her mind right at the moment, so Sam promised to visit her again tomorrow.

The checkerboard was marked in soft cream and black, as were the tops of the small polished stones that were used for pieces. The first thing Sam had commented on was how nice the colors were compared to the traditional red and black, but soon her attention was taken up with explaining the rules to Jolinar. Her symbiote had seemed to pick up quickly, but after being soundly and quickly trounced by both Martouf and Lantash in two games, she suggested that Sam play them and she would observe and pick up strategy.

Sam gathered up the pieces and placed them on her side, noting Martouf’s satisfaction at how many he had to flip over to hide their ‘kinged’ side. Selmak had apparently taught him very well. Sam took her first move confidently, and the next few moves followed quickly.

“Did you speak to Sha’re?” asked Martouf, taking his next move.

“It was too late for her today,” Sam answered, eyes flitting across the small board. “Shifu was fussy all day and needed to go to bed early, and she was worn out herself.”

Martouf nodded, waiting for her move.

A few moments passed, and a few clicks of the pieces were all the sounds in the room other than the soft natural hum of the tunnels.

“Interesting,” spoke up Lantash as Sam confiscated his foremost piece on the board. “You seem to have spotted my first strategy.”

“I may be a scientist, but I’m also a soldier as well,” said Sam with a smile.

“Yes, and that is interesting also—you do not think as a warrior,” said Lantash. “What drew you to your military?”

Sam paused. “I appreciate the order and the rules,” she said, “and taking part of an essential part of society. But I have to admit, there’s something about the guns, too.”

“Your weapons?”

“Yeah,” said Sam, a bit of a grin gathering at the corner of her mouth. “We don’t have energy technology, we developed projectile weapons propelled by gunpowder—a primitive chemical reaction. There is a sound and a jerk from the weapons when you fire.” She shook her head, a little fondly. “It is an amazing feeling, to have that kind of raw physical power in your hand.”

“Mm,” said Lantash, looking down to make another move. “So you avert your desires for power and world domination into firing these primitive weapons.”

Sam blinked. “What?”

“Successful every time,” he commented to himself, eyes rising from the board to dance at her.

A tinge of pink rose into Sam’s cheeks. “You’re wicked, you know,” she said. “And yes, I fall for it every time.”

*Don’t feel bad, he spends hours practicing for such quips,* commented Jolinar. Sam wasn’t sure she believed all that, but it was nice to have Jolinar’s opinion on the matter.

Lantash made a couple more comments before letting Martouf come forward. Sam suspected that he had been running over the next part of the strategy while Lantash and Sam had been bantering, but it was only fair as they were the new ones.

“Now, you have to clarify the rules for me again,” said Martouf, making his move.

Sam glanced down to the board, waiting for his question. *Oh no,* said Jolinar, just before Martouf spoke.

“I may jump these both in one turn, correct?” he asked, pointing at two of her pieces and glancing up with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Crap...” said Sam, knowing that he knew the answer. “No?”

“A nice attempt,”  conceded Martouf, smiling broadly and jumping the pieces before setting them in the small pile he had collected.

“How did I miss that?” said Sam. “I’ve never had that happen, not in checkers.”

“Part of strategy is to distract one’s opponent, of course,” Martouf shrugged, trying to pass of an innocent look despite his obvious self-satisfaction.

“You sound like Daniel,” said Sam, reassessing her position on the board. “We used to play chess—it’s like checkers, only with six kinds of pieces that move and attack in unique ways, so the variations of game play require complicated strategies. It takes years to master, even for the very intelligent and motivated. Daniel once told me that he learned very quickly that he was easily distracted, so he developed the skill of immersing himself in whatever he thought was important to the point of near-oblivion to anything else. Eventually with chess, he got to the point where he could be completely in his strategy and still be trying to throw me off like you do.”

“Are you considered an expert at this chess?” asked Martouf curiously.

“Oh no, it’s just a hobby,” said Sam. She sighed, then made a move. Martouf’s strategy had crippled her, and it would take several turns to regain any advantage.

“In that case, then perhaps we should learn it,” said Martouf. “But before we meet Daniel.”

Sam couldn’t hold back a smile at that. “Oh, I see, you don’t want to be at a disadvantage, from me or from him.”

“It is not our style,” said Martouf dryly, but his humor clearly beneath the surface.

“I hope you’ll get to meet him soon,” said Sam. “I’m not sure how the meeting will go, though. I never was sure, but recently...” She trailed off, not able to explain all the secret reasons for her slow modification of her expectations.

“If the Council is actually meeting with you on the subject, then they have trust in your abilities to succeed,” said Martouf. “And we see no reason to distrust them in this matter.”

“Thanks,” said Sam. ~But you don’t know them,~ she completed the sentence in her mind.

*Yes, well, I do,* said Jolinar.

Sam won the game, if barely, and then Jolinar was ready to play the next one. Lantash was victorious again but by a much closer margin, and before the night was out Sam and Jolinar were working with each other to win the next two games in a row. Martouf and Lantash conceded the match, and the evening was advanced enough for them all to retire to bed. Sam had quite a day for herself the next day anyway.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28 - Trouble

SG-1 arranged themselves in the gateroom as they always did. Jack and Dixon took the front row, usually followed by Daniel and McKay, but in this case Daniel and Jordan. His old professor looked distinctly out of place to Daniel without a comfy suit or pair of canvas overalls. Taking up the rear was Teal’c, and McKay dropped back to join him. Daniel glanced back at the gate dialed, and found Teal’c’s face unreadable as McKay fussed with his gadgets. This planet looked very nearly bare but out of habit, or perhaps for the sake of showing off around the guest, McKay was treating it as if anything might happen.

The gate dialed, and Dr. Jordan couldn’t help but jump back. Daniel smiled, recognizing the usual emotions of newcomers to this event. Jack turned once to give a nod to Hammond, and then he and Dixon walked through the gate.

“I never asked—does it hurt?” asked Jordan as he and Daniel walked up the ramp.

“Not at all,” Daniel said truthfully.

And before anything could happen, they were all through the gate. A few seconds passed, it shut down, and Jordan let out a long breath.

“Exciting,” he commented.

The sun was up on this world, a bit of a jarring sight after knowing it had set on the other side of the wormhole. There was a perfectly oval clearing around the gate and the DHD, covered with short yellow-green grass accented by moss but no weeds or wildflowers. And beyond this oval of about 500 yards, all they could see around them were trees. Mostly evergreens, to be exact. There was a sparser area where there might have been a road once, Daniel guessed, but other than that—nothing.

“We left Earth, correct?” asked Jordan.

“Oh yes,” said Jack, pointing up at the reddish moon that was quite visible above the tree-line. “Look Daniel—trees. We’ve never come across them before.”

Daniel rolled his eyes to Jack. “Most planets we come across are fairly Earth-like,” he explained to Jordan.

“Although, there may be something different about these,” said McKay, frowning and walking towards the nearest tree-line.

“Hmm?” Daniel asked, looking around. Apart from the perfectly circular edge of the clearing, while beyond the trees were closely spaced, it didn’t look too alien. But he followed McKay to look closer. The structure of trunk and large branches were mostly similar to pines, certainly, but McKay was right in that there was something off about the thinner limbs and needles.

“What, the trees are interesting this time?” asked Dixon, eyebrows incredulously raised.

“If someone’s up there playing tricks on me...” muttered Jack, eyes suspiciously skyward.

“Look, look!” said McKay as they came close to one of the trees. It was darker near the edge, and the branches swayed over their heads.

Daniel had caught it at the same time, stepping into the shade of the canopy. “That’s amazing, look at that branch end!”

“It looks like a taco,” said Jack, looking over their shoulders.

Daniel and McKay both turned to give him the eye.

“Are you saying it doesn’t?” demanded Jack.

“The needles on this aren’t regular pine variety,” said McKay, leaning in to look at the nearest branch. “They don’t look soft.”

“I’m not getting a taco vibe, sir,” said Dixon. “It looks more like a...what do you call those plants that eat meat?”

“Venus Fly Trap,” commented Teal’c absently, as he looked up into the sky.

Jordan, after a moment of standing around in stunned appreciation, came up to stand near Daniel’s side.

“Jackson, smell this,” said McKay, oblivious to the others as his face was a couple inches from the oddly shaped pine branch. “It’s amazing. I don’t think these are pine needles.”

“Why is there no wildlife on this planet?” asked Teal’c.

Daniel glanced quickly to him, and frowned. He was right—no bird calls or animal dung was anywhere. Looking back to McKay, he saw the fascinated look in his eyes, just a little too euphoric for the usual caution McKay showed. “Rodney, I don’t think you should touch that.”

“These can’t be real pine needles,” McKay said, as if unhearing, his finger reaching for the now-dangerous looking branch.

“Rodney!”

“McKay!”

“God! Oh god! It bit me!”

Gone was McKay’s almost trance-like nature as the tree branch had wrapped around his hand, sending the too-aptly named needles piercing deep into his hand. The rest of the team jumped back sharply as McKay crumpled in a lump, gasping in acute pain, but the trees didn’t move.

“Oh god, they’re alive and they’ve got me!” said McKay through growing hyperventilation.

Jack’s gun immediately rose. “Daniel, stand back.”

“Wait—wait, Jack!” Daniel protested quickly, putting up his hand. “We can’t just go shooting at it. What if it bites down harder?”

“Could it actually be alive?” asked Jordan, looking to Daniel with concern.

“Well, we haven’t come across anything like that, but I wouldn’t rule it out completely,” said Daniel, eyes darting between McKay and his team.

“I did not want to be the guinea pig for a new kind of life!” snapped McKay breathily, but his moment of irritation gave way to a fearful sob of pain.

“Sir, we need to bring in a doctor,” said Dixon, concern open on his face.

“Contact Hammond,” said Jack with a nod of agreement. Dixon jogged off to the DHD and Daniel drew near to McKay. “Hey! Daniel! Vicious tree?” Jack exclaimed.

“What, Jack? It didn’t attack us when we were all standing there,” said Daniel, crouching beside McKay. The other scientist was pale and shaky, sweat gathering on his broad brow as he leaned up against the tree trunk. “Maybe it’s not fully capable of movement. Teal’c?” Daniel beckoned the Jaffa to come closer.

Teal’c hesitated a moment, eyeing the swaying trees around them with strong suspicion.  But only a moment later, he lay down his staff weapon and came over to join Daniel. Carefully, avoiding touching the actual tree, Teal’c helped Daniel lie McKay down on the ground. The attacking branch had been low on the tree and thin enough that this was possible, even if McKay’s arm was still suspended.

“Rodney, are you still conscious?” asked Daniel.

McKay nodded, eyes squeezed shut.

“Okay, we’ve sent for Doctor Frasier,” assured Daniel.

Jack, gun still ready but lowered, had apparently agreed with Daniel that the trees couldn’t reach out and attack them, and came up behind Daniel’s shoulder. “Daniel, how can you possibly explain to me why there’s a planet full of nothing but killer trees with a Stargate?”

“Do all these worlds use their Stargates?” asked Jordan.


Daniel turned from McKay, remembering their guest on this ‘quiet mission’. “No, actually,” he said.

Jordan had stepped back with the rest when McKay had been attacked, but now he stepped forward again, looking more determined than frightened. “Maybe there were people here before there were trees,” he suggested after a deep breath.

Daniel caught his words and started tapping the air with a finger, following that train of thought.

“There’s nothing around, I looked,” came McKay’s weary voice.

“Don’t worry, Rodney, we’re working on this,” said Daniel, relieved to see that McKay hadn’t succumbed to shock or some kind of poison yet.

“Oh, that gives me such hope,” deadpanned McKay.

“Right, just keep up that attitude and you’ll be just fine,” commented Jack encouragingly.

“I will look around for any clues,” said Jordan, putting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder.

“This has already gotten dangerous, Dr.,” said Jack. “You should head back through the gate.”

“You need trained eyes looking around, trust me, Colonel,” said Jordan firmly.

“Daniel?” Jack looked to him.

Daniel nodded. Jack tipped his head, but Jordan didn’t need his permission to start scanning the perimeter of the meadow. Beyond him, Dixon stood by the active gate. Daniel knew that Frasier couldn’t be here in less than five minutes, and she would need every bit of knowledge he could give her. He turned back to McKay.

Gently, he rotated McKay’s arm as much as was possible. His teammate didn’t make a sound, but looking at the wound Daniel wasn’t surprised. The “Venus Fly Trap” had bitten neatly around McKay’s hand and wrist, digging deep into it with what looked more like probes than teeth. Judging by the length of the ones out of reach of his hand, Daniel grimaced to note that it looked like some of the needles could have driven all the way to the bone if not beyond.

More disturbing, though, was the shiny quality of the needles’ texture. Not merely polished smooth, they seemed to be glistening with some kind of liquid. His elementary biology knowledge had Daniel expecting some kind of drug—but what for, he didn’t want to guess aloud. McKay already looked out of it, and more hyperventilation wouldn’t do anything.

“Rodney, are you still awake?” asked Daniel. McKay’s eyes were limply shut, his mouth drooping a little.

“No, I’m unconscious, you moron,” McKay answered, his voice too weak to have bite.

“Just checking,” said Daniel, concerned at how out of things McKay was getting. Other traumas had made him over-stimulated and hyperactive, but even with the extreme shock of having your hand so violently bitten, Daniel wasn’t sure this was a natural reaction.

He heard the gate activate again, and looked up just in time to see Janet Frasier and two medical officers come through the gate. Just in time.

“Okay, what do we have here?” the small doctor asked as she made her way swiftly across the short field.

“A tree bit him,” said Jack.

“What?” asked Janet, confused. Then she saw McKay. “Oh my god, that’s not good.”

Teal’c, who had been supporting McKay to keep any strain off his arm, moved himself out of the way so that Janet could examine him.

“Daniel, do we know anything?” she asked, looking to him.

Daniel ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “Well, it didn’t attack until it was touched, but there was an intoxicating smell—my main thought was that it was some kind of carnivorous plant like a Venus Fly Trap.”

“While looking just like a pine tree—that’s strange,” said Janet. “Well, if it is like that, it can’t digest him very quickly. It will just hold him until he wears out, possibly inject him with a kind of sedative and/or digestive fluid to break down his tissues.”

“There is a kind of liquid on the spines,” commented Daniel.

“Okay,” said Janet, kneeling next to McKay. “Delores? The bag please, and then can you go back to the base and get me the Poisons and Drugs kit? John, this man won’t be able to be moved for a while, so you might as well report to the General.”

While Janet’s two assistants made their way back to the gate, she put on gloves and a mask. McKay seemed out of things, not responding even when she probed at the outer edge of the bite. Granted, she didn’t probe very deep.

“Doctor McKay?” she asked.

“Am I dead yet?” he murmured.

“Not in the least. I need you to tell me how you feel?”

“Can’t,” murmured McKay, shaking his head.

“You can’t tell me?” asked Janet.

“I can’t feel my hand anymore,” said McKay.

“That’s not surprising, there looks like there could be a lot of nerve damage,” said Janet. “What about the rest of you?”

“I think I’m in pain, but I don’t know for sure,” said McKay, a couple of the words slurring a little. “I feel sick.”

“Teal’c, you need to make sure he’s propped up in case he vomits,” said Janet. Teal’c nodded.

“What do you need me to do?” asked Daniel.

Janet’s brow creased. “I’m going to work on the medical side of all this, but I need you to get me something about this tree, if you can.”

Daniel nodded and stood up. “Jack, I might need your help.”

“Daniel, what do you think you’re going to find?” said Jack in a voice just above a whisper.

“Well, we can see if these trees are sentient or not.”

“They’re trees!” said Jack, shaking his hand.

“And do you want to get them mad by insulting their intelligence?” asked Daniel with one eyebrow raised. “Alien world, Jack, remember?”

“Don’t get snotty,” warned Jack, but got the point.

Daniel didn’t know where he was going to start, but he knew he had to. Of all of the missions they’d been on, this was one where they most desperately needed all the scientists they had. With McKay out of commission, it was up to Daniel and Janet—and Jordan. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all that he’d brought him on the mission.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar made their way down to the infirmary early the next morning, but were stopped by Dorin.

“You are here to see Sha’re?” the Tok’ra doctor asked.

“Of course,” said Sam.

Dorin sighed. “She did not have a good night last night. Shifu was screaming most of it, and there seems to be—well, I will let her tell you herself. But be prepared, she may not be in a congenial mood.”

“Thanks,” said Sam, nodding. As they neared Sha’re’s chamber, things became more obvious. Shifu’s cries carried a good way despite the walls, and they were the shaky, hiccouphy ones of a child who had been crying for a good time now.

Turning the corner, they saw Sha’re pacing her chamber, bouncing Shifu in her arms. Her jaw was set, eyes tightly shut, and there were circles dark beneath them. Her hair and clothes looked disheveled, as if she had slept in them, if she had slept at all last night.

“Sha’re?” called Sam, when they were close enough to be heard above the baby’s screams.

She jumped a little. “Sa’m,” she said, wearily. “Jolinar. Forgive me, I do not want company, but I need you.”

“What is it?” asked Sam.

Sha’re closed her eyes again, taking a breath.

“Here, let me take him,” said Sam, concerned for the exhausted woman.

“It will not help,” said Sha’re, but she willingly let Sam take the bundled infant.

Sure enough, Shifu didn’t even pause for a new breath. Sam was not comfortable with babies, but in this case it didn’t matter what she did. “What did you need to tell me?” she asked over Shifu’s continuing protests.

Sha’re sat wearily down on a chair, and Sam took the one opposite. “It is this child, of course,” she said. “He was well for the first two weeks, but in the past few days he has suddenly started crying.”

“Isn’t that what newborns do when they have colic?” asked Sam.

“So I was advised at first by Larys and Dorin,” said Sha’re. She sighed. “But Anise’s concerns came to me, and so I had them watch him closely one night. Now they are not so sure. I never thought he cried out of discomfort, but more out of fear, and according to their readings his mind is reacting as if to nightmares.”

Sam frowned, glancing down at the baby who still cried in her arms. Now that she listened, she understood what Sha’re meant—his cries were almost frantic.

*I agree with her concerns,* said Jolinar.

“So you think it has something to do with his being harcesis, having all those memories?” asked Sam.

“I am worried,” admitted Sha’re. “Sa’m, I do not know what I should think; he is still my poor child, but what if there is something more?”

“Have you talked to the doctors about this?” asked Sam.

“Only briefly,” said Sha’re. “But they said that there has not been another time like this.”

Jolinar came forward. “It is true, Sha’re. We have next to no information about harcesies. I do not know what we can do.”

“Dorin mentioned that they might be able to repress his Goa’uld memories,” said Sha’re. “But I am afraid that the process might hurt him.”

“It is possible that some other memories might be lost as well,” admitted Jolinar. “But think, Sha’re—if your theories are true, what child would he be?”

“Not mine, I am afraid,” said Sha’re, eyes welling up. “Jolinar, I was so certain that he was my child to claim, flesh of my own flesh. But now my heart is full of fear that the Goa’uld will yet steal him away from me.”

Jolinar had realized that she was now holding the crying, flailing infant, and Sam felt her extreme discomfort, but she pushed past it and looked Sha’re in the eyes. “Sha’re, if there is anything that can be done, it must be done soon. For both your sakes.” Nothing more to say, she quickly granted control back to Sam.

“She’s right, Sha’re,” said Sam. “Look at yourself; you can’t live like this.”

Sha’re exhaled, wiping her eyes. “Here, let me take him back,” she said, reaching for Shifu. When he was bouncing again in her arms, whimpering as he regained strength to scream, she looked up to Sam. “Thank you, both of you. My mind is so weary, I did not know whether to trust it.”

“You should tell all this to Dorin or Larys,” said Sam. “I am sure they share your concerns and desires for Shifu’s safety.”

Sha’re nodded. “Yes, I will do that.”

Sam tried an encouraging smile. “Will you be able to sleep?”

“He quiets down sometimes, for a few hours,” said Sha’re. “I will survive.”

Sam rose. “I would stay and help you, but the Council needs me.”

“Of course, I would not wish to burden you with this,” said Sha’re. “I only wanted your advice.

“Don’t forget to ask for help from others if you need it,” advised Sam. “Keep well, Sha’re.”

“I will,” said Sha’re with a weak smile of her own.


Sam and Jolinar left, turning at the last moment to cast a worried look that Sha’re missed as she began pacing again.

*This would have had to be resolved at some point, but I did not think it would be so soon,* commented Jolinar. *Anise was right, even if intrusive.*

~Is it possible, what Dorin suggested?~ asked Sam.

*It is not well tested, but it is plausible,* said Jolinar. *At this point, however, there is nothing else to do if we wish to give Sha’re her child back.*

~Hopefully he hasn’t been taken away yet,~ said Sam with a shiver.

*And for all our sakes, let us hope that this does not affect our upcoming mission,* said Jolinar. *And speaking of that...we should meet with the Council now.*

ooooooo

“Daniel, come look at this!” called Jordan from a few feet away.

With the help of Jack, Daniel had been trying to figure out how these trees worked. As far as he could tell with his own senses, they only reacted automatically like any other plant, and even McKay’s devices didn’t pick up anything abnormal about them. It was just some strange evolution of plant life. But it was confusing to Daniel, and he kept trying.

“What is it?” asked Daniel, hurrying over and hoping there was something more intriguing.

“Look at that,” said Jordan, pointing between the first couple trees on the edge.

Daniel peered in, looking down where Jordan’s finger had pointed. “Is that—that’s a paved stone, isn’t it?”

“Unless stones grow flat and well-placed on other worlds,” said Jordan, not entirely facetious.

“Okay, so there was someone else here,” said Daniel, adjusting his glasses to rub the corners of his eyes. “That’s something.”

“Jackson, you’re probably only going to find that these people were eaten by trees,” said Dixon, who had taken Jack’s place after the latter had gotten frustrated and took up a position with Teal’c by Janet and McKay.

“Maybe there’s some evidence that could give us a clue, though,” said Daniel.

“The question is, how do we get in there?” asked Jordan.

“Well, I think I’ve solved that,” said Daniel. “They only attack if the inside of their...”

“Tacos?” Dixon suggested reluctantly.

“Jaws,” amended Daniel. Dixon nodded with approval. “Only if the inside of their jaws are touched.

“So we move the branches aside and we can safely get past,” said Jordan. Daniel was only a little surprised at how quick and collected he had been on this mission; anyone who could hold their own with several classes of college students a day could handle stress, but it was the inner character that had pushed Daniel to offer him this that let him absorb the newness of alien things.

“Can we use your gun, Dixon?” asked Daniel.

Dixon sighed. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’ll use yours to keep this outer part open, Daniel,” said Jordan. He smiled wryly. “I’m not so adventurous as to willingly venture in there.”

“It looks pretty thin, so that’s a benefit,” said Daniel, handing his only weapon to Jordan.

Jordan held the first branch back and Daniel stepped in between the two trunks. He held his breath, but nothing happened beyond his expectations. Dixon followed, and Jordan let the branch slowly fall back into place. The space was small, but there was breathing room. Dixon shuffled forward and used his gun to push aside the next branch, ducking beneath a particularly high one. Daniel followed, only having to stoop slightly, and squeezed past another one. Dixon followed until the next one crossed the open space, then he stepped in front to push it carefully aside.

“This is worse than electric wire,” he muttered.

Daniel stooped under the last branch to reach where the paved stones were. Weeds had sprouted up between them, knocking some out of the way with the passage of time. They had once been carved, though, and Daniel was intrigued to see that the design was certainly not Goa’uld in origin.

The next hundred feet or so was easy, as no trees had encroached on the path, and within ten minutes they had gone about 500 feet.

“Colonel,” called Dixon through his radio, pausing to give an update. “Jackson and I made it through the trees—Jackson’s found some kind of civilization.”

“Daniel, you do realize we’re just here to rescue McKay?”

“Yes, Jack, I do,” said Daniel. “I’m trying to do that just now. I’m hoping the people who used to live here knew about the trees.”

“It’s not a bad theory, sir,” said Dixon.

“As soon as Frasier’s got a way out, though, we’re leaving,” said Jack.

“Got it,” said Dixon.

“Has she got anything yet?” asked Daniel.

“She thinks the spines put some kind of...minor acid into McKay to start breaking him all down,” said Jack, sounding disgusted and worried all at once. “But she has no idea what to do about it.”

Daniel nodded, nothing else to say. Earlier, at Jack’s request, they had tried to close one of the jaws of another tree and cut the branch loose to see what happened. Closing the jaw had made the needles drip some fluid, but cutting the branch had made the jaws close even tighter and shoot the fluid out at greater force. Janet was firm—there was no moving McKay unless they could get the jaws off without making him lose his hand.

Looking ahead, Daniel saw something stone other than the path, and hurried along towards it. As far as he could tell, this had once been a circular monument of sorts, but the trees had grown in and around it. Using Dixon, though, Daniel began to follow the perimeter.

“This is amazing architecture,” Daniel commented. “This is stone, but the cut marks are almost invisible, as if they found these formed instead of carving them. Definitely an advanced technology.”

Dixon, who was paying more attention to the branches than the stone, just said briskly, “Uh-huh.”

About halfway around the circle, though, Daniel saw a larger tower like structure. No trees were in the couple feet surrounding it, and he walked towards it. It was only a little taller than he was, and though the sides were covered in markings, there seemed to be a kind of podium facing the center of the circle. Standing in front of it, Daniel brushed off the old leaves and needles and was surprised to see a kind of screen. Or at least, it looked like a screen. Like the sides, it was carved with designs.

“What is it?” asked Dixon, still standing on the path.

“I’ve seen these symbols before, I think,” said Daniel. He ran his fingers over the carved stone, eyes scanning, mind trying to remember. “Oh!”

“You do know them?” asked Dixon.

“Dixon, did you ever hear about Heliopolis?” asked Daniel, getting excited. “The four Great Races?”

“Yeah,” said Dixon.

“This is one of those languages!” said Daniel, hope driving away the pent-up frustrations of trying to figure it all out. “There’s a short inscription in the Norse of Thor’s people and in this other language—I have the cypher back in my bag, but I think I can make out a few words here and now.” He paused, finger resting just below a character. “Oh, no.”

“What?” asked Dixon.

“The good news is, I think this new language might be related to Latin,” said Daniel, face darkening. “The bad news is, the words I can make out right now in Norse refer to attack, day, and death. I think this is saying that victims died one day after being attacked.”

“Shit,” said Dixon. “Now what?’

“McKay’s only got 24 hours, and I can’t work through all of this in that time,” said Daniel, waving his hand over the small tower. “But I think that after this introduction, there’s more, important information. I just need someone who can help translate.”

“You said Latin, though,” said Dixon.

“I said it’s like that,” corrected Daniel. He looked up at Dixon, and then his eyes lit up. “You’re right, though—Dr. Jordan could do as well as anyone.”

“Okay, so I go get your bag and bring Jordan through to here, right?” said Dixon.

“Yes, yes,” said Daniel. “I’ll work on this new script as much of this as I can until you get there.”

“And I’ll tell the Colonel and Frasier that we might have something to go on,” said Dixon, already on his way back. “Good luck, Jackson!”

Daniel set to work on the stone tablet before him, noticing with relief that none of the characters seemed to be worn away. Whatever Great Race had settled this planet, they had certainly known how to make things that would last. Now if only they had gotten enough information down to help McKay...

Chapter Text

Chapter 29 - Expectations

Meeting with the Tok’ra Council was always an interesting experience for Sam. They did not assemble in an actual chamber, and rarely all at once, so the briefings could take place anywhere. This time, though, they had taken the time for most of them to assemble and in a relatively private chamber. They had also provided a seat for Sam and Jolinar, instead of how things usually went with them standing in front of the seated Council.

“Jolinar,” began Garshaw as they all took their places. “This meeting is mostly concerning the Tauri, so we will be speaking firstly to your host.”

“As I assumed,” said Jolinar, bowing her head and letting Sam come forward.

Garshaw nodded to her fellow Council-members. As always, they were well prepared.

Ren’al spoke first. “Samantha, your time among us was intended to be temporary until a new host for Jolinar could be found and you could return to your people. However, when that became prolonged, we allowed that you meet with delegates of your world to arrange some way for you to contact them once your time among us was over. As it is now, though, you seem to wish for something more than this—an alliance, I believe, were your words. We agreed at the time, but as your mission approaches we shall need a definition of what shall happen during it.”

“Understood,” said Sam, nodding.

“What would be the purpose of forming an alliance instead of a treaty with your world?” asked Thoran.

“Of all the races out there, we are the only one that we know of that is actively seeking the downfall of the Goa’uld,” said Sam. She had prepared too. “If we were working together, surely we could accomplish more than each on our own.”

“But have you not seen that our tactics are not yours?” continued Thoran. “If you could convince your people to work as we do, following careful procedures to make sure that the balance is not tipped too soon, I would understand your wish for an alliance.”

“Is it the methods that matter?” asked Sam, not surprised yet by anything. Jolinar and her own experiences had made her expect these kinds of arguments. “If we were allies, the information we could share would be enough to justify it, wouldn’t it?”

“We are not hastening to share all our knowledge when it may be discovered by the Goa’uld,” said Ren’al. “Unless it is very basic information, the alliance would not give you much. And what would you give us in return?”

“My world is in contact with many others now, and we are continually searching out new technologies and information,” said Sam.

“Such as?” asked Ren’al, eyes opening wider in questioning.

“We have found records of an ancient alliance of four Great Races once united against the Goa’uld,” said Sam. “And the nanite technology of a Goa’uld experiment, as well as Asgard technology that detects and destroys Goa’uld.”

“And have you mastered these technologies and information?” asked Ren’al.

“Not that I know of,” said Sam slowly. “But in your hands, would the process not be faster?”

“And when this information is transferred from world to world, what is to keep us from being discovered by the Goa’uld if your world is infiltrated?” asked Garshaw, her hands clasped together and resting on the table before her.

“You could decide the security parameters yourself,” said Sam. “I know that the government would be willing to jump through many hoops to achieve this.”

“Do you?” asked Garshaw. “From your earlier reports, it seemed that your world still thought of us as Goa’uld.”

“They don’t know any better yet,” said Sam. “I’m sure I can convince them eventually. But it is what happens then that we are here to talk about.”

“Not necessarily,” said Garshaw. “You, Samantha, were given a rare opportunity to learn about us. How long will the rest of your people take to come to a similar understanding? Will it ever come? Their prejudice seems great.”

Sam bit her lip. “It will take time,” she admitted. “But think of the position they are in. It was only two years ago that we discovered alien life existed; the people who would be making these decisions are those whose minds have already been opened wider than they ever thought. One step further is not so far.”

“That is possibly true,” conceded Garshaw with a slight nod. “Samantha, it is not that we do not see any benefit in joining with your world, but the risks for us are many and the benefits seem very small. It would be more in our style to have a kind of treaty, but where only urgent information was shared.”

“And what of your greatest need, for hosts?” asked Sam.

“You are certain that your people can overcome their prejudice so completely?” asked Garshaw doubtfully.

“Eventually, yes,” said Sam. “But they will need some kind of proof, which I believe that both myself and Sha’re will provide the basis for. After that, a full disclosure of all you are willing to part with should gain their trust fully. Then, it is just a matter of exposure.”

The Council-members looked to each other, and then Per’sus spoke.

“It would be foolish of us not to do what we can to achieve these benefits, for they are a very real possibility,” he said. “As long as we do not compromise ourselves in the process.”

The others nodded, although a younger council-member on the end seemed reluctant.

*Delek,* murmured Jolinar as she caught Sam’s observation.

“Then so shall it be,” said Garshaw, nodding to Sam. “We shall compose the details of this treaty later, but first we must, as Per’sus said, ensure that we are not compromised by it. How shall this meeting be set up? And Jolinar, here your input will be most appreciated, as you are the only one other than Samantha to have observed the tactics of the Tauri.”

ooooooo

Daniel was relieved to finally get his second wind, just as the sun on this world dipped towards setting. As far as his body and mind were concerned, it was well past midnight and he hadn’t brought any coffee. He had, however, discovered that frequent radio calls from Jack and Janet about McKay’s condition were as good as any shot of espresso.

He was currently kneeling by the tower, jotting down in his own shorthand the words as he translated them. Jordan was standing around the other side, doing the same even as he paused to bounce an idea of Daniel. This would have been an amazing opportunity, translating this alien message in a language they had barely discovered, but all the two men could feel was stress. Janet had radioed them twice asking for any information they found, and Jack had been calling every twenty minutes or so to give reports. It didn’t look good.

As far as Janet could tell, McKay’s body was being overrun by the toxins from the Venus Fly Tree (as Jack so eloquently put it). It was a relatively small amount, but according to Janet it seemed to be extremely potent. And not only was it beginning to break down McKay’s hand for the tree to digest, the toxin waiting in the rest of his body seemed to be acting as a marker for further food once the tree got that far. McKay’s body was reacting as if it was a disease, sending him into a high fever that only aggravated the toxin’s symptoms of disorientation and dulled sensory response.

“I guess it makes sense now why T can’t find any other signs of animal life on this planet,” commented Jack at the end of his message, his voice too weary and worried to hold any irony.

“How do you suppose the trees survived?” asked Daniel.

“I noticed that earlier, actually,” said Jordan, turning his head to speak into Daniel’s radio. “There are no reproductive systems visible on these trees, and their root systems and branching method of growth seem to indicate the usual tree growth. Perhaps they need meat to reproduce?”

“Eww,” said Jack shortly. “Let’s not dwell.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to hear that our supposition was partly correct,” continued Daniel. “This text is detailing the former occupation of this planet.”

“But let me guess, you haven’t gotten to the good part,” said Jack.

“Not yet,” said Daniel.

“O’Neill out, then,” finished Jack.

Daniel continued, working his way clockwise around the pillar. The language was remarkably like a form of Roman Latin, and it was inscribed in a similar fashion. Not only that, but the way of detailing history was eerily similar to the ancient Greek and Roman historians like Thucydides, all fact and no mythology. It was something rare in the galaxy, Daniel had found.

According to the text they had translated so far (some of the beginning and some half-way through), there had been a settlement of an advanced race on this planet, not because they needed a new world but because they wanted to study the plant life here. There was a word that Jordan and Daniel had tag-teamed on for fifteen minutes before deciding that the closest translation might be “terraform”, and that was almost enough to distract Daniel. As it was, he concentrated on the explicit meaning, not the interesting implications.

Jordan had dealt with the introduction, relating to Daniel this basic history and the phrase “all has not been a complete disaster”. That was hopeful, but Jordan’s part of the tower went on to describe scientific experiments with the atmosphere.

“Oh, this might be something,” said Daniel.

“Yes?” asked Jordan, pausing to look down.

“Well, after they had to leave the planet—why, I haven’t figured out yet—they left this behind in case it was feasible to return,” said Daniel, pausing to let his mind catch up with what he had translated so far.

“Not as a warning?” asked Jordan.

“No, but it looks like they thought of that. Just at a glance, the next section has many of the signs for numerals,” said Daniel. “Times? Formulas? We can only hope it’s not dates.”

“Hmm,” Jordan agreed, going back to his work. After a moment’s pause he said, “Daniel, are your allergies affecting you at the moment?”

“No,” said Daniel. “I take regular antihistamines on missions. Why?”

“It’s that godawful smell,” said Jordan. “From the trees—and if I wasn’t entirely terrified of them it would be effectively alluring.”

Daniel sniffed. “I suppose I blocked it out.”

“Wait—Daniel? Did your part say anything about experiments?”

“About them leaving the planet?” asked Daniel. “Um, I don’t think so. Something about failure, but nothing specific. Yours mentioned disaster, correct?”

“It did, and now it just made a mention of—well, I think the word is “manipulation” but I can’t translate the two words around it.”

“Manipulation, science, disaster,” muttered Daniel. “Genetic?”

Jordan looked down at Daniel, the filtered light carving deep shadows in his face. “Oh dear, Daniel.”

“It’s genetic, isn’t it?” sighed Daniel, Jordan’s words confirming his unconscious suspicions.

“That would fit quite accurately,” said Jordan.

“So this race might have been messing with the wildlife and threw things out of balance,” said Daniel. He sighed, dropping his head to his chest. “That’s—great.”

“Just be grateful they seemed to have time to learn from their mistake,” said Jordan.

“Yes, but we may not,” said Daniel, looking up with renewed focus. “I don’t think you’ll find anything helpful that far up—try on the other side, about the same level I’m at.”

“Right,” said Jordan, squatting down. “Ooh, knees, forgot about them.” He sat down completely with a slight thump, crossed his legs, and lay his notepad in his lap.

Daniel smiled a tight smile. This was what the mission should have been about—him and his teacher and mentor, experiencing a new world together with banter and intellectual stimulation. Not fighting to save a life, that was never the plan. Jordan had been caught in the SG-1 curse, apparently.

ooooooo

“We will have to be unarmed, of course,” commented Jolinar, as she and the Council ironed out the details of the treaty mission.

“Completely?” asked Delek suspiciously. “And risk capture?”

“They would be cautious of any such tactic—no weapons whatsoever, if we are to look benign,” said Jolinar.

“Fighting is not our way either,” said Ren’al, looking down the row towards Delek. He sat back, a slight noise coming from behind his firmly shut lips.

“I assume the moon has a ring platform,” continued Jolinar.

“Indeed, not very far from the chappa’ai,” said Garshaw with a nod. “We had the area scouted.”

“Then if there is any need, a tel’tak in orbit will be as quick a retreat as any,” said Jolinar. “If this meeting was at all leaked, also, there would be room for all to go in safety.”

“The most recent ship to become available was kept aside just for this purpose,” said Thoran.

“Good, good,” said Jolinar, then looked to Garshaw. “If the Tauri agree to this treaty, should a signal be sent to bring you to attend the signing of it?”

“Is that necessary?” the High Councilor asked.

“These Tauri seem very intent on maintaining high levels of protocol,” said Jolinar. “Your authority as our leader would do much to convince and persuade them.”

Garshaw frowned. “Jolinar, what is your level of trust with these people? You seem wary of their intelligence to understand the situation.”

“Not so,” said Jolinar. “But I do not underestimate the caution of those once burned, however open they may be.”

Sam, who had only spoken up about tactics briefly, saw what Jolinar was avoiding discussing and asked for control again. After she opened her eyes, she turned to Garshaw. “There is one thing that Jolinar has not said.”

“Yes?” asked Garshaw, eyebrows rising.

Sam took a deep breath. “It is possible that a misunderstanding might confound our first attempt. What happened on Abydos has likely reached them, and without understanding the circumstances, the coincidence of our arrival and the attack on a previously peaceful planet may look like malice. It—it wouldn’t seem unlikely.”

“You do not trust them to come in peace?” asked Garshaw, not committing to a tone.

Sam slightly chewed the inside of her lip. “No, I trust that they won’t try to attack unprovoked. But they may bring weapons, and they may be on edge to use them.”

“That is of little issue as far as we are concerned,” spoke up Delek again. “Take a shield, and it will not matter, as long as you stand near the rings.”

“Remember, Delek, that Sha’re will be with us,” said Jolinar. “It will be difficult to both remain under the protection of the shield without inviting suspicion.”

~They wouldn’t shoot her,~ said Sam. ~Not Sha’re. Remember that her situation is different than mine.~

“I stand corrected on one point,” spoke up Jolinar. “It will not be necessary to shield her, or so my host believes.”

“I am glad to hear it, considering all I have been told about these Tauri,” said Garshaw. “And if that is so, then I see no reason for the Council not to approve the safety measures of this mission. As soon as you wish to depart, the tel’tak will be waiting.”

Jolinar bowed slightly to the Council, and they all rose.

~That went much more quickly than I expected,~ commented Sam.

*For me as well,* commented Jolinar as she left the chamber. *I am not sure what it indicates. That they are not fully committed to this mission, or that something else occupies their thoughts.*

~Or maybe they just don’t think it’s that complicated,~ said Sam. ~It’s not sneaking into a Goa’uld base, after all.~

*True, true,* said Jolinar. *Still, it is plain that some of the Council only granted their consent so as not to disturb the flow of proceedings.*

~To be honest, I think I know where they’re coming from,~ said Sam. ~I never really thought about how Earth would look to an advanced race, but especially for you...we look like a danger to your entire way of life.~

*You may understand them, but that does not make them entirely accurate,* said Jolinar. *The treaty has firm benefits, not least of which the possibility that we may save people of your world and at the same time save our own. Even if it is a rare occurrence, it would save months and even years of effort on our part.*

~Said like someone who carefully measures time,~ said Sam.

ooooooo

“Daniel...”

“Just a second, Jack, really!” said Daniel, barely waiting until after he pressed the button on the radio to talk.

“You have something, then,” Jack’s tone was cautiously hopeful.

“The something,” said Daniel. “Send Dixon—we need to get this out of here and to someone who will understand chemistry.”

“On his way,” said Jack.

“I have the dosage on this side,” called Jordan from across the tower.

“And I have the formulas,” said Daniel. He marked the last character on his notepad and stood up, brushing the underbrush from the seat of his pants.

“Got it!” finished Jordan. Daniel put a hand down to help him up. “We can do this, right?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I’m not a chemist,” said Daniel. “But Dr. Frasier...she’s had to do things like this before. I trust her.”

“Here, let’s get as far as we can before your Dixon comes through,” said Jordan, pushing along the part of the path that was somewhat open.

A few minutes later, and Dixon came almost charging though. “It gets easier your fifth time,” he commented. “Come on guys; McKay’s losing it.”

Dixon was right; they sped through the forest, Dixon dodging and pushing the dangerous branches out of the way with almost reckless abandon, Jordan and Daniel following with their notebooks close to their chests. Now that he was moving, Daniel felt the sickly sweet smell of the trees overwhelm his senses, and he almost felt ready to sneeze. Not because he was allergic, but because that scent didn’t belong in his nostrils. No wonder McKay had been overcome.

They escaped the trees at last, taking a deep breath of the open, unscented air. The sun was at its hottest, the brown-yellow grass crisp and paired with the spongey moss under their feet. It looked eerie in light of what they had learned, an experiment with nature that took over its newly-formed world. Daniel had a few seconds for his mind to dart off on that train of thought, and then was back where it all had started.

McKay was losing it—Daniel felt a sick feeling in his stomach at the sight of the scientist. His skin was pale and damp, all the blood in his body seemingly centered on his face, and even his twitching seemed lethargic. Janet had him hooked up to one of the small boxes she had brought through the gate, and the readings were worse than erratic. She quickly rose to her feet as Daniel and Jordan came up.

Jordan, a little out of breath, handed his notebook to Daniel and leaned forward, resting his hands on his thighs and breathing deeply.

“Please tell me you have something simple,” Janet said quietly.

“You’ll have to tell me, I’m not exactly sure,” said Daniel honestly. “This is what we have.” He opened the notebooks and held them down where Janet could see.

“How confident are you with these translations?” Janet asked.

“Well, they’ve mostly been corroborated between us, but this is a brand new language,” said Daniel.

Janet took a deep breath and took one notebook from Daniel. “Okay, let’s sit down and look over this. I’m afraid that these names are not going to be medical terms I’m familiar with, but we’ll see.”

Daniel sat down next to her, holding the other notebook. Jack and Dixon stood, for the first time looking as if their guns had no use here, while Teal’c took up vigil by McKay and the beeping machine. Jordan, having caught his breath, stood behind them.

“I don’t think they’re the names of chemicals or drugs,” commented Daniel, as Janet’s eyebrows rose further as she read. “They look more like the names of plants, maybe even descriptions.”

“I can see that,” said Janet, nodding. “But,” she continued, shaking her head a little, “Teal’c reported to me that he has found nothing but trees in this area other than the grass.”

“Perhaps these plants no longer exist?” asked Daniel.

Janet nodded shortly. “There is nothing medical about this list that I can see—until you find the plants, I can’t tell you anything you couldn’t already figure out.”

“Right,” said Daniel.

“So, what are we looking for?” asked Jack as Daniel helped Janet up and back to McKay’s side.

“Well, now that I have a better idea of context...it looks like this race used a similar way to ours of categorizing plants using descriptors of their qualities, including some physical ones,” said Daniel, looking over his notes again. “The ironic thing is, instead of using an equivalent of Latin, their entire language is an equivalent of Latin.”

“The most important item seems to be the ‘something-something tri-leafed tubular yellow’ plant,” said Jordan.

“Something-something?” asked Jack.

“Well, certain scientific terms will take a while to figure out,” explained Daniel. “But let’s focus on tri-leafed and yellow.”

“And tubular,” put in Jack.

“Tubular meaning stem, maybe?” Jordan threw out.

“Or root,” put in Dixon. “Are we looking at a tree or the grass?”

“Both,” said Jack firmly, standing up straight and gripping his weapon tighter. “Dixon, you and I will look in the forest. Daniel and the doctor, grass and moss.”

“And Teal’c, sir?” asked Dixon.

“He may be needed elsewhere,” said Jack, looking Teal’c in the eye.

“Thank you, Colonel,” said Janet.

Teal’c bowed his head. “I am unfamiliar with examining vegetation in any circumstance.”

“Get to it,” said Jack snappily.

ooooooo

~We only have three days left now,~ commented Sam as she and Jolinar stopped to eat.

*There is no point in returning to the planet until negotiations are finished,* said Jolinar. *It is well that we integrated ourselves only so far.*

~Will it be suspicious on our part?~ asked Sam. ~A week of absence?~

*For which we can claim business to our god that is above mere Jaffa concern; it is not entirely uncommon.*

~Hmm, just thinking about how long this negotiation may take,~ said Sam. ~Sha’re will not be able to bring Shifu for safety’s sake, but who will take care of him here, especially in his current state?~

Jolinar paused for a minute. *While we wait, we should meet with Dorin and Larys to see what they have available to help with that.*

~And perhaps pay a visit to Selmak and Saroosh,~ suggested Sam.

Jolinar paused again, but only for a second. *Perhaps.*

ooooooo

Daniel’s heart began to race, and he quickly beeped to Jack over the radio.

“Found something, Daniel?”

“I think,” he answered, looking again at the plant in his hand. “I think we’re limiting our definitions to how Earth biological labels work, as well as the vocabulary.”

“An amazing feat, considering that some of us don’t really know the Earth forms,” opined Jack.

“The roots of this kind of grass are solid, but their structure is as if they’re wrapping around a—a tube of dirt,” explained Daniel quickly. “It took me a while to see, but I had a feeling something was up.”

“So what do we do over here, then?” asked Jack.

“Well, if I’m reading this correctly, we need two more plants, one with ‘green-shingle’ and one with ‘long-tower’.”

“Oh yes, that makes so much sense, Daniel.”

“My first thought was that green-shingle meant leaves from the canopy, but now I’m not so sure,” said Daniel.

“Hey Jackson, what about these saplings we’ve seen with the green stuff on the bark?” called Dixon.

“Exactly!” said Daniel. “Shingle’s not the right word, or else we just have too narrow a description.”

“Right, so we just need long-tower,” said Jack. “That’ll be a piece of cake.”

Daniel put his radio back. All they had to do was keep an open mind—and despite his words, Daniel could hear in Jack’s voice that he was willing to do that. It was his team at risk.

“Shit, damn!” came Dixon over the radio again.

“What is it, Dixon?” answered Jack swiftly.

“I’m bit, sir, about fifty yards west of your position,” said Dixon, his tone tight. “God! I can’t move—got my shoulder. Before—anything—I need you to get the green stuff and give it to the doctor.”

“On my way, Dixon,” said Jack.

Daniel’s face tensed, and he looked to Jordan to make sure that he wasn’t anywhere near the trees. Dixon would be fine if they could help McKay, but Daniel didn’t want his professor leaving this mission with anything worse than a scare. He looked down at his notes again, frowning.

“Daniel, look at this!” Jordan called from a little ways off, and Daniel looked up. Moving quickly for his age, he came over to Daniel, something in his hand. “Look,” he said, holding it out to Daniel.

It was a rock, orangeish and strangely formed.

“They’re a few inches beneath the surface, all over,” said Jordan. Daniel noted now that his hands were covered in a sandy dirt. “I know we assumed plants, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to dig deeper after you found that root.”

Daniel’s mind clicked as he saw the flat base of the rock and the spires that grew upward, almost like a tower. It wasn’t a rock, it was a mineral deposit of some kind, seeping down from the dirt in columns until it hit some layer that forced it to stop. “That’s it, that’s the long-tower,” said Daniel, face brightening. “Jack,” he called into his radio. “We got it!”

“I’m almost there,” said Jack. Sure enough, a minute later, and Jack was coming across the field at a quick pace.

Daniel quickly gathered the three things and ran over to Janet, who was putting a blanket over McKay.

“He’s going into cardiogenic shock,” she said without looking up. “I’m not going to be able to help much longer.”

“We have what we need,” said Daniel, shuffling the ingredients to one hand so he could open up Jordan’s notebook. “And here’s the proportions. It looks like it makes a powder, or a paste.”

“Thank god,” said Janet, reaching up for them. “Get the mortar and pestle from that bag, Teal’c.”

Daniel was slightly put off by the idea of a medical doctor carrying a mortar and pestle, but Janet did have a strange occupation. After casting quick glance at the page, he ripped off a piece of the root and handed it to her.

“This going to be enough?” asked Jack, watching as Daniel frowned at the fungi.

“I hope so,” murmured Daniel, handing it all to Janet. Last of all, he broke a few pieces of the mineral deposit.

It was mostly dry, and crumbled into a fine dust after a few stirs of the pestle. Janet mixed it up, then looked to Daniel. “Dr. Jackson?”

“I’m looking.” Daniel flipped through the last two pages, making sure he knew what he was doing. “Okay, just sprinkle it over the wound near the branch until you get a reaction.”

“Are you sure?” Janet asked, giving him a firm glance.

“It won’t hurt him,” said Daniel, shaking his head.

McKay’s vitals were flickering out. Janet took a deep breath and sprinkled the green-brown dust on what was still visible of McKay’s hand. It dissolved into the blood and fluid on the wound, and the branch trembled. Encouraged, Janet sprinkled a little more. The mouth of the branch opened wide, dropping McKay’s arm like a stone and causing Janet to gasp and leap back half a foot.

“Get him out of there!” ordered Jack, stepping forward. In a couple seconds he and Teal’c had dragged McKay’s limp body a few feet away.

Janet had her radio out. “I need my medical team ready, code red.” Tucking it back in its holder, she turned to McKay. “He’s not out of this by a long shot. I have to hope this will make a difference.” She looked at her mortar, but seemed relieved at how much was still left.

“I’ll take some to Dixon,” said Jack. Janet nodded and pinched some of it into a small container.

“Teal’c, I need your and Dr Jackson’s help in getting Dr. McKay onto this stretcher,” said Janet, covering McKay’s hand in a fine film of the dust. His heart-rate was rising from the near-flatline of before, and his uninjured hand began to twitch.

“Daniel?” Jordan was quietly watching the proceedings.

“We can handle it from here,” said Daniel, putting a hand on his arm. “Take the guns and go through the gate—tell them what you know. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Jordan nodded and quickly gathered up the useless articles they had dropped. With Teal’c’s help, Daniel rolled McKay’s body heavily onto the stretcher, wincing as he did so. As Janet moved the wires out of the way and picked up the box, they stood at either end and picked him up.

“Colonel, how is Major Dixon?” called Janet through the radio.

“He’ll be fine—we’ll be there in a minute,” said Jack. “Go through the gate! If these trees get vicious, I don’t want us all screwed.”

“Okay, that’s our orders,” said Janet crisply.

Teal’c took the lead, walking backwards with the stretcher poles in his hands as he was carrying nothing more than hollow bamboo rods. Daniel had to move swiftly to keep up, and even Janet, only carrying her medical supplies, was moving at a near jog. A few more feet, though, and they were through the wormhole. Daniel didn’t even cast a backwards glance.

“Get this man to the infirmary at once!” called Janet as soon as they were through.

Two medical assistants rushed forward to take the stretcher from Daniel and Teal’c and get it on the cart, leaving the two to stand in the room. Jordan stood to one side, arms crossed nervously. Wordlessly, Daniel cast him a glance. He nodded, almost unfazed.

They didn’t have to wait long before Jack stumbled through the gate, carrying a pale and bleeding Dixon, but also a Dixon who could walk with support. Another set of nurses took him from Jack’s hands, but Dixon was still awake enough to protest that he didn’t need that much help.

Behind them, the gate shut down. Jack, Teal’c, Daniel, and Jordan stood in the gateroom, some breathing heavily, some trying to release their tension, all unsure of what came next. Up from the control room, Hammond spoke into the mic.

“Stand down.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Jack managed to sum up everyone’s thoughts.

“Well, screw that planet!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 30 - Care

Sam was fidgeting, hands twirling an invisible pen as she bit back another question. At least Jolinar was on her side for this one, she thought. By now, she had decided that Larys was her preferred contact among the Tok’ra medical force. He was kind, open, positive, explaining everything at a level of detail that as a scientist she appreciated. He saw his role as caretaker for patients, only there to keep the Tok’ra alive.

Sam had first appreciated Dorin’s counterpart to him, with the intellectual and theoretical approach to medicine that made her more than cool under any circumstances; but now, sitting by her side and discussing Shifu, Sam saw the downsides. Dorin had a cautious way of giving information, making Sam sure that she was holding back important things. Or, it might be that she didn’t think Sam would comprehend it.

“Let me get this straight,” she finally put in, breaking off Dorin’s rambling—as it seemed to Sam—train of thought. “Have or have not you actually done this level of repression?”

Dorin took a deep breath, leaning forward in her chair. “It is manipulation on the genetic level, Samantha. Turning off alleles or even genomes on command is not something to be taken lightly. We have kept it only as a last option, and that option has never been needed.”

“Theoretical, then,” said Sam, and sighed, her hand stilling and resting on the edge of her chair.

“The strongest theory we have,” added Dorin.

“And it has no side affects that you can see?” continued Sam, looking straight at Dorin.

“It is only dealing with the genetic memory,” said Dorin firmly. “Were he not human, it might have interfered with later memories, but not so for this child.”

Sam nodded. “And how long will it take?”

“Many hours,” said Dorin, “not to mention later monitoring of his status.”

“Wait a minute,” said Sam, putting a finger up skeptically. “If the Tok’ra have no children, how can you be so sure?”

“Samantha, I know that you have strong emotions for this situation, but do not forget that you can answer some of your own questions,” Dorin sighed.

*She means the offworld cultures that we mingle with,* said Jolinar.

“You’ve done medical assistance there?” asked Sam.

“At times, yes; enough to learn what we need,” said Dorin.

“Yes, but will that satisfy Sha’re,” murmured Sam.

“I believe in this case it is only your worries that need be assuaged,” said Dorin, sitting up straight. “Sha’re has not your understanding of medicine.”

“Obviously you haven’t been looking at her reading material,” said Sam, a weary smile gracing her face. “But no, you are right in a sense.”

“I needed not your confirmation of that,” said Dorin with a teasing look that barely broke through her demeanor.

Sam sat quietly for a moment, playing back their conversation. Though they sat in the fore of the infirmary, it was still and silent. There were but few rooms, for as Dorin had once explained there were only few times where rest and symbiotic care could not mend all. Even so, after a few moments Sam paused.

“Where is Shifu?” she asked.

“Sleeping,” said Dorin, looking up from the datapad that she had turned to in Sam’s silence.

“Then it’s been quite a long time, since I was here several hours earlier and it was the same situation,” said Sam. “You found something to help him?”

“No, Larys has him on a mild sedative for today,” said Dorin.

“Oh?” asked Sam, surprised. “Is that healthy?”

Dorin eyed her.

“I mean, for a long time—was it necessary?” Sam continued.

“It will do the child no harm, and the mother much good,” said Dorin. “Larys cares for little more.”

Sam had a twinge of reservation, but nothing notable. She stood up, saying, “Then I need to talk to Sha’re and discuss what you have explained, if she is awake.”

Dorin nodded, and continued with whatever work she had.

~This could throw a wrench into the plan,~ said Sam.

Jolinar hesitated, translating the metaphor. *It could,* she said slowly. *Sha’re will not be eager to jump into this, but it must be done swiftly if she is to accompany us.*

~And she has to do that, at least,~ said Sam. ~Maybe she’ll jump for postponing the whole issue.~

*And leaving her unstable child in the hands of Larys and Dorin? Surely you know her better than that.*

~Right, that’s not happening, not when he’s so needy of her. I don’t think she even trusts Martouf that much.~

*A wise mother, then.*

ooooooo

“Hey there,” said Daniel with a smile, hands in his pockets as he stood by McKay’s bedside.

The bedridden scientist licked his dry lips slowly and blinked at the world. “Jackson, I hardly asked for this,” he sighed.

“Janet called me when you woke up,” said Daniel, grabbing the nearby stool and taking his seat. “We’ve been worried—Dixon will be along later.”

“Great, just what I need,” muttered McKay. “I don’t want commiser—wait, how did he get out of here?”

“He just got a bite in the arm, Rodney,” said Daniel, a little bemused. “He said Janet patched him up and sent him to his room.”

McKay groaned and closed his eyes. His normally pale face was still downright pasty, his arm heavily bandaged, and two IVs mingled with the other cords attached to him. There was that bit of prickliness in his expression, but Daniel was used to that.

“Well, someone doesn’t look so hot,” commented Jack, swinging around the corner and clasping his hands together.

“Hello? Someone almost died?” McKay wasted no time opening his eyes and responding to Jack.

“Yeah, try not to do that again, will you?” Jack nodded to McKay, as serious as he ever got.

“Try not to let trees eat me? Yeah, great advice—never heard that one before.” It didn’t take a linguist to see the relief beneath the bluster in that comment. Daniel and Jack shared a look.

“What are you two doing over here?” demanded Janet, marching over in her four inch heels, clipboard in one hand and syringe in the other.

“Nothing, ma’am,” said Jack quickly, eyes darting at once to the sizable needle. “Just...um...bugging your patients?”

“Dr. McKay needs a good amount of rest before he gets any visiting,” advised Janet.

“Right,” said Jack, lifting a finger in a parody of a salute.

“I’ll see if there’s any jello to bring down for your dinner,” said Daniel, standing up so that Janet could come and inject her syringe into McKay’s IV.


“Only if it’s blue,” said McKay.

“I remember,” said Daniel with a smile.

“Where’s—Teal’c?” asked McKay, a little groggy now.

“I’ll bet he’s coming along with Dixon,” said Jack, as he turned for the door.

“Dixon? Did he leave?” asked Janet.

“Was he not supposed to?” asked Daniel as he followed Jack.

Janet shook her head and tapped her heel, her muttered “Oh, that man” following Daniel down the hall. He smiled. It was late afternoon again on Earth, almost a day since the mission, and he was ready for a little nap after the suspense of the last night and morning. He had to wonder, if that was the quiet, easy mission, what about the one that SG-5 took? Maybe McKay had always been right, it was the luck of SG-1. He really needed that nap—he was getting superstitious.

ooooooo

Sha’re was dozing in a chair next to Shifu’s cradle, one hand reaching in to rest on his tiny blanketed form, rising and falling as he breathed slowly and evenly. Her brow showed the traces of worried lines, but even the presence of her protective hand couldn’t deny that there was some peace in her face. Sam stood for a minute or two, letting Jolinar take control for no particular reason.

And then Jolinar sighed and turned the corner, looking to where Selmak and Saroosh lay. They looked so old, so aged beyond a normal lifespan. Sam seemed to see through Jolinar’s eyes, seeing through the outer frailty to see the inner source of strength beneath. It was worse than before, worse than if Saroosh was just reaching the end of her days. Like a hammer straight to her heart, Sam saw two losses approaching in that one body lying absolutely still in the infirmary bed before her. She said nothing, and Jolinar turned away.

There was a moment where Jolinar had never felt closer to Sam, and she couldn’t tell if she was just feeling Jolinar’s grief on top of hers or if they were now one grief melded together, because the edges were blurry and she couldn’t see any of it clearly. It was too close, and Sam felt that at any moment she would feel the loss of Rosha and Quinta and Elista and all the others that were buried deep in Jolinar’s mind.

Beyond them, Sha’re stirred and sat up, looking first to see if Shifu was still sleeping.

The grief was gone in a second, and Sam wondered where exactly it went. Where did they all go?

“Jolinar?” asked Sha’re in a voice just above a whisper, standing from her chair and stretching her neck.

“We did not wake you, I hope,” said Jolinar in a low voice, stepping forward.

“With what, your silence?” asked Sha’re, something approaching a true smile on her face. “Of course not.”

“We spoke with Dorin after the meeting with the Council,” said Jolinar. “She explained in further detail what might help your child.”

“And?” asked Sha’re expectantly.

Jolinar took a deep breath. “Samantha thinks it is sound.”

“Safe?” Sha’re’s words were carefully chosen.

Jolinar lent control over to the one who could answer best. “I cannot know,” Sam admitted, opening her hands as she spoke the honest truth. “I—the Tok’ra cannot take the time to show me in close enough detail for me to judge. I must take their word.”

“Why?” asked Sha’re. “Can not you understand it?”

“It’s not a ‘can I’ issue, Sha’re,” said Sam. “Just an ‘am I allowed’ one. Dorin is only following protocol, not revealing something so important to someone who is not fully dedicated to the cause.” Sam sighed, the last words coming out frustratedly.

There was a brief pause, and then Sha’re spoke. “But you think you understand enough?”

“I do, yes,” said Sam. “And Sha’re,” she added, looking the women straight in the eye, “I would never imagine that Dorin would suggest anything she did not fully believe in. Even though I cannot know for sure, I know that she can.”

Sha’re nodded, her brow creased. Her head tipped to one side, her worry not without its cracks. “Perhaps I shall be convinced soon as well.”

“There is one thing.” Sam stepped forward, still looking at her closely, hands twisting to each other as she almost frowned. “The mission—it is less than three days from now. And Shifu can’t come.”

Sha’re looked up at Sam, the crease deepening. “And I cannot leave him like this.”

Sam nodded. “I know.”

Sha’re glanced back at her still-sleeping child. “But...”

“I’m sorry, Sha’re, you’ll have to make a decision tonight,” said Sam.

Sha’re brought her hands up, hiding her face for a moment as she took a long, deep breath. Lowering them, she looked up straight into Sam’s eyes. “That woman was right. Anise. How I hated her, but she was right.”

Sam said nothing, just tilted her head in an almost-acknowledgment. Sha’re stepped back, sitting down again. She caressed Shifu’s downy head with one hand, turning her head so her face was hidden behind the wealth of dark curls. Sam didn’t move any closer.

*If she does not choose, what then?*

Sam couldn’t read Jolinar’s tone, but it almost didn’t matter. ~I don’t know.~

“If I do this,” Sha’re said quietly, “and I go with you, what do you think Dan’yel will say?”

“Does it matter?” asked Sam with emotion, stepping closer to her.

Sha’re looked up. “Sa’m, he will be Shifu’s father—I simply wonder what he would say.”

“If he were here,” Sam finished for her. “But Sha’re, he isn’t. He has no say in this. He had the chance, and...” she stopped, letting the volume of her voice lower from its unexpected rise.

“You thought he would come?” asked Sha’re, a little confused as she looked to Sam.

“I—I—” Sam broke off, unsure of her own emotions. Was this bitterness she felt? Yes, only this morning she had spoken to the Council of her lack of total trust in her old friends, but that was nothing, it was only caution from them. “I shouldn’t have,” she finally said.

Sha’re watched her as they both had no more words. Sam realized that she had once hoped, somewhere deep down, and it had been an idle one. She had even given it up without a thought when proven wrong. And yet now, all the tension and finality resting on this one mission had led, not to renewed hope, but to fear. Fear that things were going down like before. Fear that Shifu and Saroosh were omens. Unfounded, unconscious, mere visceral fears—and they were oh so real.

“Sha’re, if there is anyone who can make this decision, it is you,” Sam said earnestly, reaching out to take Sha’re’s free hand in hers. “Don’t listen to me, don’t think of Daniel, don’t worry about anything. The more you think, the more your judgment will get clouded.”

Sha’re smiled softly, wearily, the worry sitting in the back of her eyes. “Dear Sa’m.”

Sam sat down opposite her, releasing her hand and waiting patiently. She could feel Jolinar’s presence, quiet and observant and the backbone of Sam’s trust at this moment.

Sha’re looked again to her child and some of the worry faded. “I do not doubt my own judgment,” she said quietly. “And I know that I have the will to make sure that he is well again, forever.”

Sam breathed out a breath she had not been holding. Saying nothing, she just looked Sha’re in the eyes.

“But Sa’m, he is still my baby,” Sha’re said, so softly it could have been a whisper, a trembling one. “I—”

“I will be there,” said Sam, nodding.

“Then before he wakes again, I should speak to Dorin.” Share rose to her feet and paused, rolling the weight on her feet from heels to balls and then back, looking down at the floor. Then, with a deep breath, she stood up straight.

Sam rose to follow her, her worries for mother and child stronger in this moment than any other. But there was hope for Shifu, and that meant hope for Sha’re, and who knew what other hopes could follow. Sam had been forced to leave behind some deeply held ones, and now needed to grasp for new ones to replace them.

ooooooo

“Ow!” Dixon barked, jumping an inch from where he leaned back against the cot. “Come on!”

“Come on, sir,” corrected Jack with his Look.

“Not off duty,” muttered Dixon, rubbing his bandaged right arm.

After Janet had retrieved Dixon, she had forced him into one night in the infirmary, bed and all. With McKay across from him, it called for a team debriefing of sorts, and they all had showed up. With no vocal planning at all, Jack was sitting next to Dixon, and Teal’c sat on a stool at the end of his bed, facing Jordan and Daniel in their positions by McKay.

“So, you’re going to live?” Jordan asked McKay, casting a glance to the brief war of rank across the room.

“Yes,” said McKay, eyes almost rolling along with his obvious tone. “That at least is certain.”

Jordan smiled. “Well, I am due in Chicago tomorrow evening, so I needed to make sure before I go.”

“A numb left hand, that’s all, now,” said McKay, letting his eyes rest behind his eyelids.

“Pain meds are great, aren’t they,” commented Dixon, readjusting his position on the bed. “I don’t feel a thing, so long as I’m not jostled.” He tossed a glance to Jack, who plainly ignored it.

Daniel sat quietly, watching the good cheer that came out of relief among his team. He glanced a couple times a couple beds down, noting that Jacob Carter was awake and watching them. He hadn’t spoken to the general since their conversation a few days back, but he had a feeling that the man would have been more curious had he not been so far gone. Daniel suspected that all his strength was spent in preparing for his last mission—it hit him hard sometimes, the knowledge of what Sam would be losing, and the fact that Jacob might never see her as she used to be.

“Hey!” Something flew out of the air to smack McKay squarely on the chest, rousing him from his light doze.

“Where’d you get a bouncing ball?” asked Daniel curiously, turning to look towards Jack.

“You could have hit something!” protested McKay.

“Punishment, oh McKay, for your crime of being bored with us here,” called Dixon across the way, grinning. “What are you three doing, anyway, moping?”

McKay picked up the two-inch blue ball with his free hand, juggling it slightly in his palm as he glared at Jack and Dixon. Then the glare left, and he glanced to Daniel and then back to the others. Daniel couldn’t read his expression, but it became clear when McKay tossed the ball with a swift throw. Daniel’s eyebrows rose as it bounced right off the top of Dixon’s head, and at just the right angle bounced back to McKay’s hand. Oh yes, Rodney McKay was smug.

“Hey!” protested Dixon.

Daniel saw Jack whisper something to Dixon, which seemed to lighten his face. “Uh oh,” he said, turning his head towards McKay even as he kept an eye on the other side. “You accepted the challenge.” Across from them, Jack grabbed an Ace bandage and pinned the ends together, and Teal’c joined them at the top of the bed.

“Projectile wars are always won by the physicist,” said McKay in a low tone, a light of confidence in his eye.

“I think I might want to retire for the night,” said Jordan loud enough for them to hear, as he gave a cautious smile.

“What, and leave the geeks one man short?” called Jack.

“Leave what?” Jack’s face instantly fell as Janet’s voice drifted towards them. “Colonel, what are you doing with my infirmary?”

The doctor had walked in to check on Jacob, but Jack’s mini-slingshot with the Ace bandage and his pile of gauze roll ammunition had caught her sharp eye immediately.

“Ma’am, you wouldn’t let us leave, what else were we to do?” asked Dixon, half seriously.

“Not hold a war, and certainly not with my medical equipment,” Janet said firmly, but Daniel thought he saw the corner of her mouth quiver. She held out her hand like an expectant teacher for the stolen goods. “And who were you intending on attacking? My patient in intensive care?”

“Yes,” acknowledged Jack, reluctantly handing over the slingshot.

“Well, if this has gotten so boring, perhaps you should leave Dr. McKay alone instead of attacking him,” advised Janet.

“I don’t mind,” said McKay.

Janet glanced over to them.

“We were winning,” said Daniel with a cheeky grin.

“Not a good excuse, sorry, Doctors,” said Janet.

Daniel noted how McKay carefully closed his hand around the bouncy ball still in his possession, making sure Janet didn’t take his one advantage. Janet cast one last disapproving glance, and then returned to check up on Jacob. Jack sighed and looked up at the clock.

“I shall bid you all farewell, then,” said Dr. Jordan as he rose from his seat.

“See ya, doc,” said Jack, nodding to him with a respect that belied his light words.

Teal’c bowed his head in a silent farewell.

“Yeah, thanks for the help,” said Dixon.

“I couldn’t have done it in time without you,” acknowledged Daniel, standing and shaking his professor’s hand.

“Glad to be of any help,” said Jordan, face lightening. “I’m not sure if I’d want to do it again, but...thank you, Daniel, for making this happen.”

“No problem,” said Daniel, smiling. He glanced to McKay, wondering why he didn’t say anything.

“Winning, eh?” said Jordan, amused, following Daniel’s gaze.

McKay’s pain medications had taken over, and his eyes were closed in drowsy slumber. Any moment, Daniel expected a soft snore.

“Well, I know he’d thank you if he was awake,” said Daniel.

Jordan nodded and left the infirmary, casting back one last look before he turned the corner. Jack finished putting back the gauze rolls and looked to Teal’c.

“Time for bed,” announced Jack quietly, standing up and stretching. Teal’c nodded, putting his chair up against the wall.

Dixon lay back on his bed, sighing. Jack nodded to him before taking his own leave, Teal’c close behind. Daniel walked the other way, passing Janet on his way out just as she was headed towards McKay, and stopping for a second.

“Janet, what is McKay’s condition exactly?” he asked in a quiet tone. “I know he’s out of danger, but what does it look like for recovery?”

“At this point I can’t be sure,” said Janet seriously, looking only barely surprised at Daniel’s question. “The venom in his hand broke down some of his muscle tissues, so that will be a couple weeks on its own, but I’m more concerned about the nerve damage. It’s likely that he will have some numb spots from where the surface nerves are damaged, and those will take a few months to heal, but I can only hope that the deeper ones are not fully damaged.” She sighed. “Whatever happens, he can be grateful it was his left hand only.”

Daniel nodded.

“I think we can be glad that he doesn’t know how close a call it was,” admitted Janet. “But we’ll see how he takes it when the shock and medication begins to fade, and also when he finds out he’s not going on your next mission.”

“What about General Carter?” asked Daniel, looking over to Janet’s other major patient.

“We’ll have to see about that too,” said Janet with pursed lips.

Daniel exhaled, gave a last smile to Janet, and walked back up to his lab to gather his things. Janet was willing to be cautiously optimistic, so he was too. No point in worrying this close to the event—things would run their course no matter who was there. But there was that niggling doubt in the depths of his mind, telling him that something was going to go wrong. No, he told it. Things have already gone wrong; this will make things right. It must.

Chapter Text

Chapter 31 - Healing

Morning came on the Tok’ra home-world, and though the base functioned as usual, it was momentous for a few. Sha’re’s determination to help Shifu had not changed overnight, and she approached Sam and Jolinar in the Tok’ra mess hall to ask for their assistance. Any worries beyond the normal ones were carefully hidden behind her face, giving Sam cause once again to worry for her. At least with Jolinar, she had some prerogative to persist in figuring out what was wrong—with Sha’re, she could only accept what hints the other woman would give.

Sam also was hiding her feelings, however. As much as she had given her support for the Tok’ra to suppress Shifu’s Goa’uld memories, it rubbed her in all the wrong ways. Not only was this a very dangerous and delicate operation, it seemed intrusive and mechanical, like something a stereotypical mad scientist would do. And to let Dorin do it to tiny, innocent Shifu, with his chubby face and hands...Sam had to repeat often to herself that it was only for his safety and well-being, two things that could not be achieved without it. Jolinar had no comment, not strange to Sam considering that she was accustomed to technology solving so many problems.

Shifu was still dozing, only one wet trail down his fat right cheek an indication of his former distress, as Sam accompanied Sha’re down to the infirmary where Dorin was waiting for them. The Tok’ra doctor was swift and efficient as soon as she had Sha’re’s consent, not wanting to have to keep the child under sedation longer than absolutely necessary. For once, Sam was glad that Dorin wasn’t as open as Larys about what exactly went into the procedure. Her mind made up, Sha’re showed no outward hesitation as she carefully transfered the bundled Shifu into Dorin’s secure grasp. Sha’re planted a last soft kiss on her baby’s forehead, whispering soft words that neither Sam nor Dorin seemed to hear, and then nodded to Dorin. The Tok’ra took him inside the lab that she had set up in the infirmary, leaving Sha’re to set up a position outside where she could wait comfortably for several hours. Sam hadn’t set her mind just yet, and followed Dorin in.

“How long should we expect this to take?” she asked quietly, as Dorin gently put Shifu into the cradle-type bed that would keep him secure for the procedure.

“An hour, possibly,” said Dorin, making sure that Shifu’s blanket was wrapped snugly around him. His eyes opened as he was adjusted, but he didn’t make any sound. “The device works quickly.”

Sam’s brow creased. It was all unnerving, seeing the tiny baby all swaddled up in blankets and knowing what was going to be done to him him. Only Dorin’s calm care and assurance countered it, even as she put a powdered anesthetic on her finger and let Shifu suckle it off. She looked to Sam and gave her a small smile.

“It will be fine, Samantha, but I must do this alone,” she said.

As Sam turned to leave, she saw Dorin wheeling a large machine over towards Shifu, something that looked similar to an x-ray device on Earth. Except this would be affecting his genetic structure, delicately turning off the parts that made him a victim of the Goa’uld. He slumbered peacefully now under the influence of the sedatives and anesthesia, his rose-gold skin glowing healthily under the lights of the infirmary, thumb comfortably in his mouth.

*And he will be like this at all times once this procedure is complete,* said Jolinar. *He is being given freedom.*

~I know. It’s just—if nothing else, it seems a little dangerous.~

*He was born into a dangerous life; there is no escaping it now.*

~And hopefully he’ll be with Daniel soon, and all this will be forgotten,~ sighed Sam as she left Dorin and the infant behind.

Sha’re had found a barren corner of the infirmary, far away from anything, and sat cross-legged on the floor. Her hands rested lightly on her knees, but as Sam found her she had not closed her eyes.

“It’ll be about an hour,” Sam said quietly. She hesitated, not as comfortable as Sha’re in sitting on what she considered the floor. Hastily glancing around, she found a low crate that would work better than one of the stools, and sat across from Sha’re.

“Thank you,” said Sha’re quietly.

“Do you need me to leave you alone while you...meditate?” asked Sam, indicating Sha’re’s position.

“No,” she said, shaking her head and looking up with suddenly open eyes. “Sa’m—I need you to talk to me.”

“Of course,” said Sam. “Usually it’s the opposite that I have a hard time complying with.”

Sha’re tilted her head in a feeble attempt to hide the hint of amusement on her face, yet a hint that quickly faded. “I do not find it easy to speak.”

“Really?” asked Sam, leaning forward a little to rest her forearms on her knees. “I never would have guessed.”

Sha’re’s head dipped for a second. Jolinar’s attention to the strategic side of dress and style had influenced Sam enough that she took that second to ponder Sha’re’s flurry of dark curls. Oftentimes, when Sam and Jolinar would visit, they would notice how she had to push them back from her face to accomplish even simple tasks. They couldn’t be meant to attract anyone, so the only conclusion that Jolinar came to was that they were to distract from her face. Sam didn’t quite buy it until now, as she couldn’t quite see what emotion colored Sha’re’s face.

“You cannot understand how it is for me to be here,” Sha’re spoke up after that brief moment. “I have never been in a place where my speech was so requested; I have always been accustomed to listen.” She looked up at Sam. “You have your science that is so needed, the Tok’ra all have information to share, but what do I have? Why would I want to speak?”

*Because speech is all that reveals, and a mystery forever locked will drive all away frustrated,* said Jolinar, and though she was not speaking to Sha’re, Sam wasn’t sure who was the intended audience.

“Because not all speech is about facts,” she said simply aloud.

“I know, but it has been difficult to learn,” said Sha’re with a long sigh. “At this moment, though, I cannot be alone with my thoughts.”

Sam almost asked to hear them, only to have Jolinar say quietly, *She doesn’t need that.*

Deciding that Jolinar would know in this matter, Sam waited. She didn’t have to wait for long.

“What will my role be for this negotiation?” asked Sha’re, firm and to the point.

Sam felt glad that she was not focusing all her thoughts on what was happening with Shifu, but when thinking about the question itself, she found it difficult. “What do you mean?”

“Your people will be there,” said Sha’re. “Jolinar will be there for the Tok’ra, and you are the one in between. Am I a token, to show that the Tok’ra do more than talk?”


“Of course not,” protested Sam. “The biggest reason for this negotiation is to get you back to where you belong; any alliance that gets made will be a pittance.”

“Half the reason,” Sha’re corrected. “You would not have foregone a meeting with your people had I not been a factor.”

“Are you worried about that?” asked Sam, frowning.

Sha’re sighed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “I am sorry if I appear so frantic,” she said. “It’s just—.” She murmured a few words in Goa’uld that Sam thought she recognized as curses.

*Her eyes are so dark,* commented Jolinar.

“I haven’t slept well in at least a cycle of the moon,” admitted Sha’re, as if she was following Jolinar’s train of thought. “And sometimes I wish that I did not—that this child—” She trailed off almost uncomfortably.

“You’ve talked to Larys or Dorin, right?” asked Sam, her brow still creased but her frown gone.

“Yes, yes, I know it is all expected,” said Sha’re shortly. “But Sa’m, I feel lost. The excitement and joy is fading so quickly, and this place does not help.”

Sam tipped her head, unsure of what that meant. Jolinar, on the other hand—Sam gladly let her jump to the forefront.

“What troubles you?” she asked, Sha’re looking up for a second to recognize the change in voice and words.

“If it were not for my hope that this will all be over in a matter of days, I would admit to feeling like my mind were disappearing into this place,” Sha’re explained.

“As Larys suggested?” Jolinar followed up, but Sam had the distinct feeling that it was merely a leading question.

“Larys can have no opinion on the subject,” Sha’re countered firmly. “Was he not born to these tunnels? I long for my desert. The movement of air across my face, not this ever clean stillness. The heat of day and chill of night, not this even warmth. The feel of shifting sand, not the hardness of crystal.”

Sam’s guess was correct, and a sudden surge of sympathy emanating from Jolinar made her feel confused and a little disappointed when she could not summon any of her own. Jolinar dipped her head towards Sha’re, something deeper than a generic nod of understanding. “It is well that we have been so often off-world,” she said quietly.

Sha’re looked up at her, the cloud of distress in her eyes mingling with the light of shared feelings. “I miss Abydos,” she said in the same tone. “And it is likely that I will never return, even after I am united with Dan’yel and Shifu in safety.”

“The planet may be safe someday,” Jolinar put in, but as her eyes made contact with Sha’re’s, Sam could tell that they both knew it was a throwaway fact.

“I could be happy on this planet, I think, if I were allowed on the surface,” said Sha’re. “But I am not, a continuing curse of Amonet, and what happens when I join Dan’yel?”

“Underground halls of mindlessly grey stone,” said Jolinar with a sigh. “And even on the surface...roads and buildings and dirt and grass.”

Sha’re nodded, adjusting herself so that her knees were folded up in front of her. “Sometimes I fear that even Dan’yel will not be enough to counter it, but I know that it is only my desperation.”

“You will find that love can overcome many things,” said Jolinar with a soft smile that rarely appeared.

*More than you know,* Jolinar thought silently. Sam was thoughtful, listening.

Sha’re answered with a smile of her own. “Even after a full Abydonian year?”

“I have seen your Daniel since then; you have nothing to fear,” said Jolinar comfortably. “I have been gone for such a length of time as well. It aches, but it is bearable on both sides.”

“Oh, my longing has never been so strong in me,” admitted Sha’re, her face slowly lightening. “But sometimes—do you know how you can forget him at times? How he becomes your foundation and nothing more, and when you remember there is a moment of fear that you may forget him?”

“But the very worry proves it unfounded,” said Jolinar nodding. “So many times, Sha’re.”

“I am glad then,” said Sha’re, sighing and closing her eyes for a second.

Sam didn’t know what she was thinking. A part of her was happy, seeing how these two friends of hers were coming close in a way that she always thought they should. And yet, she was uncomfortable, the one left out because she could not relate. The looks, the tone, she recognized—but how could one so hate the underground? Be so fully one with another person? She was lost in the emotions.

And as they so often did, Jolinar and Sha’re fell silent again. But though Sha’re’s brow slowly furrowed again, and her mouth tightened in worry, this silence was not cold. They had nothing further to say, that was all. They had found a way to communicate without words, something that Sam was only beginning to fully understand.

ooooooo

Daniel had to appreciate the lack of urgent duties for today as he wandered into the SGC early in the morning. His main priority was supposed to be the mission report, but to give that full credit, he just had to figure out exactly what had happened. McKay’s case had complicated things—he needed to do what he did best, and read between the lines of everything to find the connections. Read between the lines quite literally, in some cases.

Last night he had printed off the photos he’d taken of the parts of the tower that he and Jordan had not translated, and had been quite distracted with the text before getting to sleep far too late. It was amazing, this thing they had so accidentally discovered. Despite the fairly primitive stone construction, the linguistic evidence all pointed towards a civilization far beyond what the Romans had ever achieved while they still spoke Latin.

The more he translated, the more he analyzed, the more he grew excited. The Alterans, as they seemed to name themselves, had done amazing things on this planet. Frightening, to be sure, but it was a huge step for an advanced race. And even more, they seemed to be unaware of its significance. Daniel wished that anyone from his department was on base so he could have someone to bounce this off of, but Barbara Shore was helping SG-2 on some world and Gary Meyers was bringing in Robert Rothman later today. Daniel could wait, he supposed.

But, oh, oh, not this! Daniel grabbed the relevant sheet and leapt to his feet—he had to tell somebody.

“Whoa there, Daniel, where ya headed?” asked Jack as Daniel rushed into the elevator behind him, looking like he was about to stumble over his feet.

“Infirmary,” said Daniel, pressing the button twice just to be sure.

Jack nodded, glancing at him, but saying nothing. The elevator went down with a little jerk, causing Jack to glare at it.

“So, what is it?” he finally asked.

“It’s about the last planet we went to,” said Daniel, jumping at the chance. “Those writings—they knew the Asgard, Jack!”

Jack shrugged.

“Not only that, but I didn’t even think of this at the time, but they must have been humanoid,” continued Daniel, not really paying attention to the expression on Jack’s face of slight trepidation. “I mean, some treatment that worked for them might have killed us if they were different enough, but it didn’t.”

“Did you, by any chance, find out why they made killer trees?” asked Jack, shaking his head a little.

“It was an experiment that went wrong,” said Daniel.

“So why didn’t they nuke before they left?” asked Jack. “See, I don’t get that.”

“Maybe they thought they could fix it, I don’t know,” said Daniel with a slight shrug. The elevator stopped and he got off, walking backwards in case Jack had something further to say. But the older man didn’t, and the elevator doors closed again.

Daniel walked swiftly down the hall and into the infirmary, casting a quick look around to make sure nothing important was going on. Dixon had been let loose, but Siler was sitting on his bed as Janet seemed to be stitching up his arm. Apart from that, Jacob was resting, a working oxygen tank making him look weaker than ever, and McKay was writing on a mini-whiteboard.

“Hey, McKay,” said Daniel, holding up his notebook as he came close.

“What now?” asked McKay without looking up, putting down the dry-erase pen in frustration as he grabbed the cloth to erase part of his equation. “Do you know how hard it is to write with one hand?”

Daniel decided against reminding him that it was at least his dominant hand that was whole. He was looking decidedly more healthy, though the dark circles under his eyes must have been indicative of something. Daniel didn’t even realize he was lost in thought until McKay let his hand drop and looked up with an impatient: “What?”

“Oh, I finished translating the monument on the planet with the,” Daniel waved his hand, pencil still in his fingers, in McKay’s injury’s general direction. “The science of it is simply amazing! I didn’t even notice at first.”

“No! You? What a shocker,” intoned McKay, eyes doing the traditional roll. “What, discover that they knew the world was round before we did?”

Daniel responded with his look, and McKay at least said nothing more. “No...actually, they had a long term terraforming plan that was incredibly intricate.”

“Really?” asked McKay, face perking up as he looked intrigued.

Daniel continued. “Yes. You see, it should have been hitting us in the face with how obvious it was—if the Alterans were messing with genes and created some hybrid, why could we find the plants with the right chemicals to combat it right on that planet?” He paused, eyes wide in an open rhetorical question.

McKay frowned, all sarcasm gone. “Wait...”

“See—it doesn’t make sense!” continued Daniel, tapping the air with his pencil.

“So what, it was a trap?” said McKay. “Except—no, don’t answer that—why would they provide the escape instructions from the trap?”

Daniel nodded.

“But the plants wouldn’t be there if there wasn’t a reason, but if the killer trees were a mistake, why would they have thought to...” McKay trailed off, looking up from his train of thought to see Daniel’s expectant face. “Let me guess, you have a theory?”

Daniel tried not to grin, but a smile evaded his control anyway. “I was paying attention to the wording of the Alteran text, the tone which it was written in,” he started, referring to his notebook. “When we first translated it, we just assumed it was a last effort of goodwill before they escaped with their lives, but that’s not what it reads like. Yes, there’s a warning at the beginning, but the text is full of a huge amount of detail that wouldn’t be needed for someone just trying to escape the planet intact. Including, for instance, the processes of terraforming on the whole planet.”

Opening the notebook, Daniel held it out so McKay could lean over and look at it.

“Your handwriting’s too small,” McKay pointed out, sitting up again with a light sigh.

“See this? It says that they were trying to create a new chemical balance in the ecosystem,” said Daniel.

“An ecosystem of what, four or five life-forms?” asked McKay, incredulous. It did not surprise Daniel that he knew so much about what they had discovered while he was unconscious—after all, what else was there to do away from labs and computers, especially when Dixon was bedridden for the night?

“But that’s the mistake, not the trees,” explained Daniel. “They wanted to work with carnivorous plants as natural barriers for hidden bases, but they were smart enough to know that they needed something to counteract such a deadly life-form. So they bred the other plants specifically.”

“They genetically altered mud and grass?”

Daniel nodded, his face bright. “Isn’t it ingenious? The fungi grows on the trees that coexist with the killer ones, and the mineral deposit in the grass keeps the killer trees from overstepping their boundaries and taking over.”

“So that perfect oval by the gate?” asked McKay.

“Their natural barrier,” said Daniel nodding. “Except, of course, they didn’t get it quite right. They didn’t take into account that the trees would be that appealing to the life on the planet. Their small patch quickly attracted enough to grow into a forest, which attracted more animals from around the planet, and so on. That gave them enough strength to spread and reproduce until they were overtaking the world. The Alterans had to stop them, and so they put extra mineral deposits by the gate, erected a monument explaining it all, and abandoned the project.”

“But they didn’t destroy it—oh yes, that’s smart,” commented McKay. “No wonder they screwed up.”

“Still, they had an incredible level of technology, despite the simple things we saw,” said Daniel.

“What did you call them, the Alterans?” asked McKay.

“That’s what they seemed to name themselves,” said Daniel, nodding. “And they knew the Asgard—maybe if we see Thor again, we can ask him about them. Looking at their script closely, actually, it seems like a simplified form of one of the ones from the Alliance at Heliopolis.”

“The one that obviously doesn’t exist anymore...” said McKay. “Fat lot of help that is.”

“We don’t know that,” cautioned Daniel. “The Asgard are still alive.”

McKay sighed. “Well, until we actually meet them, or find technology that we can use, I have no interest in them.” He glanced down at his left hand, tightly bandaged, and sighed.

“How are you doing?” asked Daniel, changing the subject from the history/archaeology that he knew McKay didn’t like.

“Can’t feel it, thank god,” said McKay dryly. “But, Frasier doesn’t have to tell me that that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not getting it back for a long while.”

“Mm,” said Daniel, frowning sympathetically.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I even want to get back to the team,” admitted McKay, his tone surprisingly empty.

Daniel looked up, intent on his face. It was one of the rare moments where McKay’s guard dropped, and it seemed to be willingly this time. “Really?”

“I may not get this hand back,” exclaimed McKay with a hint of bitterness. “And whose fault is that? I always knew it was safer to stay in the lab, not risk yourself in field work, but I let them convince me and now look where it got me.”

“You regret it then?” asked Daniel.

“At the moment, yes,” said McKay shortly. He paused. “I just don’t know if I can go back to life before all this.”

“It’s addicting, isn’t it,” said Daniel, nodding.

“Just think of all the ground-breaking scientific discoveries that could be just sitting on some planet!” said McKay. “And who’s going to find them? Not them, obviously,” he said, apparently indicating the rest of the team. “And not you either, Jackson.”

“Yeah, not really my area,” agreed Daniel, glad there wasn’t too much disdain today. “You’re right; we need you out there.”

“And I need me out there,” admitted McKay.

“You just don’t know if you want to risk the possibility that you may not survive to figure out exactly what all that you discover means,” said Daniel with a sigh. Oh, he knew that feeling all too well...

McKay didn’t say anything, and Daniel figured that it was a rare moment when they both knew what the other was thinking and didn’t jump right out and say it.

A sigh of frustration escaped McKay.

“What?” asked Daniel.

“You made me lose my train of thought—I can’t remember where I was going with this,” said McKay, indicating his whiteboard.

“Sorry,” said Daniel. The moment was over, the guard was up again. “I don’t have anything else; I can leave you alone now.” He turned to walk out, not expecting anything else.

“Let me know if you find anything else!” called McKay a little absently after him.

Daniel smiled to himself as he continued out into the hall. It was almost a ‘thanks’, or so he reckoned.

ooooooo

Neither of the parties in the infirmary spoke again as the hour passed away, even as the minutes seem to pass slower and slower. Sha’re was again sitting with her legs crossed, eyes closed in some form of meditation. Jolinar was sitting by her, leaning up against the wall with legs bent in a relaxed position as she absently stared out across the room. Her mind was quiet, and as Sam had nothing to think about herself, she didn’t feel like she was missing anything.

An hour passed in the unwavering artificial light of the tunnels, and Sha’re adjusted herself and looked at the Tok’ra version of a clock. Ten more minutes passed, then twenty, and she grew restless. Jolinar glanced over at her, thought of the time, and began to worry herself. But it was only another five minutes before Dorin appeared in the doorway and they both rose quickly to their feet.

The Tok’ra looked a little worn, but satisfied, and she beckoned to Sha’re. “I have done all in my power for your son,” she said quietly. “And from all the tests, it seems to have been much. He is well and waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” said Sha’re softly, reaching out her hand to touch Dorin.

Dorin bowed her head, and let them pass.

Sam was reminded of the first time she had seen Shifu, lying in a bed away from his mother, looking up and pondering the ceiling as he sucked his thumb. Here he was again, eyes no longer drowsy from the medication, his little legs kicking comfortably as he squirmed in his blanket.

Sha’re breathed in deeply, and then moved quickly to his side, putting out a hand to caress his cheek. He turned his head to her and put out a tiny hand, and a smile wiped all her worry lines away as she scooped him into her arms and hugged him close, planting a kiss at the base of his neck. He gurgled contentedly, and Sha’re spun around once, smile broadening until it took up her full face.

Sam was filled with joy inside as she watched, and though Jolinar stood back, waiting for an invitation to approach, her body relaxed and her face lit up in response to Sha’re’s. “He is happy,” she commented.

“Oh yes, Jolinar, my baby is with me once again,” said Sha’re, coming over to her, her step lighter than it had been in days even with her remaining weariness. “Just look at his face—he is troubled no more, and yet he still knows me.”

Jolinar smiled and put out a finger to brush a tuft of Shifu’s dark hair that fell in front of his round ear. He was still too young to look at her and smile, but his head turned in her direction, his dark eyes searching even as they seemed to look past her. It was enough for Jolinar, and Sam felt her appreciation of it.

“He will be hungry, I think,” said Sha’re, rocking him close to her chest. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” said Jolinar. “You should take your time.”

“Yes, yes, we will be leaving,” said Sha’re. She looked up at Jolinar. “I am glad you were here today.”

“So was I,” said Jolinar, without hesitation or facade. Sam was a little surprised.

As Sha’re’s departing worry turned into coos and kisses, Jolinar turned from the infirmary with a satisfied sigh of her own. *All looks well for now.*

~Yes, yes it does,~ said Sam. For the moment her doubts and fears seemed superstitious, and she was in no hurry to change that opinion.

*Did you wish for such a life?* asked Jolinar suddenly.

~A little, yes,~ said Sam. ~Long ago.~

*You regret it, seeing her?*

~No, not the baby part. I’m not ready for that, not sure I ever will be. Why?~

*Just thinking,* Jolinar answered, tone in agreement with her words.

Sam smiled. ~That’s new.~

*Excuse me?*

~Kidding, of course; Lantash was right, you are an easy mark.~

Jolinar snorted in response, but it was nothing more than a drop of water slipping down duck’s feathers, gone in an instant and leaving no trace. They had the rest of this day and still another one before the final test; Sha’re had her child to reacquaint herself with, and Jolinar and Sam had a mission to plan. Nothing to worry about.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32 - Resolution

Sam saw a visible change in Sha’re as they walked across the desert, but couldn’t discern the cause. It had begun after leaving Shifu in Larys’ care, but became most evident as she and Jolinar ascended to the surface of the planet, walking towards where Shan’ak waited to dial the gate. And it wasn’t anticipation.

To take the trip by hyperdrive to M4D-495 would take over a day, so the tel’tak had been left orbiting a planet much nearer to the destination moon. Sha’re and Sam would gate to the planet, and finish the rest of the trip in only an hour. Jolinar was apprehensive, and Sam could best describe herself as nervous, but Sha’re was not. Her step was light, her face beaming, and there was a light in her eyes that Sam hadn’t seen for a while.

“It is here at last,” she murmured as they made their final approach. Sam glanced to her, and she smiled broadly. “Oh, you cannot realize what it is like to be gone for more than a year from those you love. I have borne it for so long, and that burden is being lifted even as we walk.”

Sam held in her misgivings about today’s outcome, but a part of her wanted to calm Sha’re, to protect her from disappointment. Then again, disappointment did not have to come; Sam wondered if that feeling came from Jolinar.

It did not take long to reach the gate.

“Good journey,” said Shan’ak with a nod, as the first few symbols lit up the gate. “And a safe return.”

Sam nodded to him, taking a second to wonder at how strange it was that there was a symbiote who would willingly take such a dull and repetitious role in the Tok’ra culture. Did he ever take on a mission as vacation? He wouldn’t have sick-days...that was something that Sam had not quite accustomed herself to about this life, and still found herself twitching her nose as if she should have a reason to sneeze.

Sha’re stepped into the event horizon before Sam and Jolinar, something that made Jolinar twitch with the security precaution violation. They followed, and Sam felt the exhilaration of gate travel once again.

“Sha’re,” said Jolinar, as her switch with Sam was almost at once after she thought her desire for it. “Remember, our personal shield cannot protect you if you are not within a very short distance. This world is safe, but...” She nodded towards Sha’re, leaving the final words unsaid and walking towards the ring platform. A few seconds later, and they were inside the tel’tak.

~Oh, it is small,~ commented Sam. ~Very nice.~

*What is nice is that it can be upgraded with a cloaking device, rather,* corrected Jolinar. *Or so we have heard.*

~You’re right,~ answered Sam with a silent chuckle. Her apprehension didn’t keep her from a sort of euphoria at the important day finally being upon them.

“Why was I not given a shield device of my own?” asked Sha’re curiously.

“There are few in existence, even among the Goa’uld,” said Jolinar. “What god would fear mortal weapons?”

“And do you fear them?” asked Sha’re, taking the copilot’s seat comfortably.

“Fear?” Jolinar started up the engine from the pilot’s seat, running a last diagnostic.

“They are not Goa’uld, even, they are Sa’m’s people.”

“They are not mine,” answered Jolinar simply.

The ship rumbled into waking, soon rising from the planet’s surface to touch the stars for a second before darting into hyperspace.

ooooooo

Dixon hopped down the steps from the control room, gun in hand, to join Daniel and Teal’c by the gate. Unlike the others, he did not have his BDU jacket buttoned over the bullet-proof vests that General Hammond had ordered for SG-1 as a matter of caution. But as he also had his bandaged arm in full view, Daniel had no doubt that the jacket would be on in a second. No military man would betray his advantage and his weakness at the same time.

“Where is Colonel O’Neill?” asked Teal’c.

“Arguing with Hammond about sidearms,” said Dixon. “It may be a while.”

“Well, we can’t leave until Janet clears Jacob anyway,” said Daniel, casting a glance towards the corridor that led to the infirmary. “Wait—sidearms?”

“The Colonel thinks that sidearms give us an advantage that zats don’t,” said Dixon, barely refraining from an eye-roll even though his superior officer was not within hearing. “Says the Goa’uld won’t have defenses primed for bullets.”

“Wasn’t he against bringing any weapons at the pre-mission briefing?” asked Daniel, confused.

“Yeah, but he hasn’t actually changed his mind,” said Dixon, slipping the jacket over his still-injured arm with no visible wince. “We can’t shoot Captain Carter—Jolinar—but if there’s a Jaffa ambush...”

“It is a far-reaching assumption,” commented Teal’c, the traditional eyebrow rising accordingly.

“That’s the Colonel,” said Dixon with a shrug, and Daniel nodded. Mckay would have added some snarky comment if he had been present, but his condition was still severe enough to require constant infirmary supervision and treatment.

Jack followed Dixon’s path down the stairs with much less bounce in his step, favoring his knees. The rest of the team widened their pseudo-circle to admit him, and he sighed.

“Just zats.”

“Anything else you discussed, sir?” asked Dixon.

“Hammond said they scouted the moon yesterday, found nothing suspicious or strategically dangerous,” said Jack. “So the only trap we’ll be walking into is the obvious one.” He glanced around. “Where’s General Carter? The plan does kind of revolve around him.”

“He hasn’t been so good,” said Daniel, cleaning a near-invisible speck on his glasses with a frown. “Janet’s trying to get him as stable as possible.”

Before Jack could answer, Daniel nodded towards the corridor, where the General was coming. Jacob did look a couple steps away from death; pale faced, with purple hollows beneath his eyes, and a conspicuous oxygen tube running from just beneath his nose to the small tank he carried in the hand not holding his walking cane.

“Do you need any help?” asked Daniel, concerned.

“No, thank you,” said Jacob, as curt as ever, his steps solid even if slow as he joined them. “The oxygen is for show—if this ruse works at all, it will be the guilt and sympathy side that does it. I’m not above manipulation to save my daughter.” He put the cane down once he stood with the team, adding a slight snort before he spoke. “Your doctor thinks I need that, but it will be a hindrance more than a necessity.”

The team met his eyes, accepting the bluster as a distraction to his dangerously poor state.

“You have the sedative?” Dixon asked.

Jacob nodded, foregoing speech.

“We all remember the plan, right?” Jack quizzed. “Go in, distract Jolinar, make sure nothing’s obviously screwed up. If it’s working, Jacob comes in, knocks her out before she can adapt. That fails, the marines come in with the tranq guns and we cross our fingers and hope that this Goa’uld isn’t as smart as she seems.”

The team stood for a second, nothing to say for or against what had already been decided. Jacob had a slightly fierce look to his face, Daniel thought, and it matched the one in Jack’s eyes. Fierce was both the right and wrong word, though; they were strongly determined to succeed, not because they saw it as just the capture of a dangerous enemy and added no feelings to the mixture, but because their deeply rooted personal biases made it so that they needed to do whatever it took to bring Sam home. Daniel might have been fooled once before by the apparently professional detachment, but if nothing else, he’d learned to read military reactions to loss in the past couple months—at least when it came to Jack.

Jack looked up to the control room where Hammond stood.

“SG-1, you have a go,” came his voice over the loudspeaker.

Leaving the team of on-edge marines and Jacob Carter both, the remaining four members of SG-1 walked up the ramp and through the Stargate.

The world on the other side was not even a proper world. A smallish moon orbiting a huge gas giant, it had enough gravity to hold an atmosphere just noticeably lighter than Earth normal. There was a slight airy effect in the first couple seconds, but it was quickly dismissed for what was important. They were not the first to arrive.

The moon was bare, a rocky plain under an overcast sky, and Sam/Jolinar stood about a hundred yards off in the complete open. Nothing and nowhere to hide. She looked the same as the last time Daniel had seen her, some things achingly familiar while others disturbingly changed. Her hair was worn tightly back this time, though, giving her figure a sparse, sharp look at this distance.

All in a second, though, as the team stepped forward, Daniel saw her as she seemed to appear from behind Sam. His heart caught in his chest as the sight seemed to barrel into him with the force of a cannon. He didn’t even need to look a second time. Sha’re. His wife. Standing just a few feet from Sam with a smile he could see from here. He heard Jack inhale sharply to his left, and glanced quickly to him. Things were already drifting from the plan. But oh god he wasn’t sure if he cared.

They all walked forward a little more quickly, coming closer to where Sam/Jolinar and Sha’re stood. Daniel’s mind was whirling about, remembering what Sam had told him last time about Sha’re being freed and ill and pregnant, and wondering if it had been a ploy with a hint of truth. Or maybe this was Amonet he saw. Her face, though; the smile was Sha’re’s, surely.

“Dan’yel,” she called to him, taking a step forward as they drew near, about five yards apart.

Sam/Jolinar put out a hand to hold her, caution plain on her face.

“I see you brought company,” said Jack, breaking the ice.

“I can see you didn’t,” answered Sam without pause. “I didn’t expect SG-1 to be the diplomatic mission.”

“Hammond will be along shortly,” said Jack.

“I can sense a Goa’uld still in Sha’re, ColonelO’Neill,” said Teal’c quietly.

Sam/Jolinar and Sha’re glanced at each other.

“The Goa’uld is gone, my Dan’yel,” Sha’re said, in a voice that very nearly broke Daniel’s heart to hear again. “It is only a remnant that you feel.”

“Just, don’t come any closer for the moment; we can’t be sure of that,” said Jack.

Daniel’s eyes followed Sha’re’s as she looked to Sam/Jolinar, who nodded. Sha’re kept her position, but all Daniel could see in her face was a longing to run into his arms. Was it just wishful thinking? Was Amonet playing him for a fool? He couldn’t bring himself to believe it without evidence.

“So, here we are,” said Sam shortly, dragging Daniel’s attention reluctantly to the mission at hand. “Colonel.”

“Captain,” answered Jack, in the same tone. “Or is it?”

“Still unsure of that, I see,” she commented, without surprise. Daniel watched her face closely, seeing what could be the Sam he knew. That was hopeful.

“No reason to be otherwise,” Jack answered. “And on that note, what are you doing here?”

“You mean what’s the goal?” she asked back.

“Daniel said you were trying to get a new host for your—” Jack didn’t add a word. Daniel knew he wanted to say snake, or Goa’uld, but that might let their hand fall too soon. “That didn’t happen.”

A slightly unreadable look passed over Sam’s face. “Well, things don’t always go according to plan. That was why we arranged for a diplomatic meeting.”

“For what?” asked Jack, playing at curiosity as he stalled for time.

“The Tok’ra have agreed to form a treaty with Earth,” said Sam.

Daniel glanced at Jack. “Oh really?” was all that the Colonel said in response. Whatever they had been expecting Sam/Jolinar to try, this wasn’t exactly the direction they thought it would go. Simple, to the point, and she looked dead serious.

“If Sha’re is free, why didn’t she return to Abydos to her family?” asked Daniel.

Jack glanced over at him with barely-hid confusion, then seemed to catch the trick in his question.

“Amonet poisoned her when the Tok’ra tried to kill her,” explained Sam grimly, after a look of her own to Sha’re. “She was unwell for some time after we last met. And don’t you know what happened on Abydos?”

“Ah, so you know,” commented Jack. Daniel knew he took that as confirmation of her involvement in the attack.

“We have been trying to make amends for that, ever since we discovered it,” continued Sam, complete with a display of openness none of them expected.

Amends, repeated Daniel to himself, and the look on Jack’s face confirmed that it was that word he had latched onto. A strange admission of guilt, but any admission at all struck at Daniel’s heart.

“Amends?” Jack queried, almost innocent in tone.

Sam frowned, but as if to herself. “Is something wrong? Where’s General Hammond?”

Avoiding the question—another confirmation of their assumptions and fears. Daniel’s gaze swung back to Sha’re for a moment, and he caught a crease of worry in her forehead, and a pursing of her lips. Whatever Sam had not said, it was important. Could Sam/Jolinar have influenced Sha’re to betray her people in some way? Or was Amonet objecting to her partner’s honest admissions? Daniel felt lost in the complications. Where was Jacob?

Behind them, the Stargate made a wet noise as another figure walked through. Sam did not appear to be able to see who it was through SG-1, but something in her stance relaxed—she must assume it was General Hammond.

Looking at Jack, she asked another question. “Isn’t there a Dr. Mckay on SG-1?”

Jack didn’t seemed surprised by the almost detached way she worded the question, and Daniel was moving closer to his point of view with every word from her mouth. This wasn’t the Sam he knew, and yet it was...just...twisted somehow. Where was her emotion upon seeing people she had once called friends, had survived almost certain death with? Why did she look to Sha’re the way she had once looked to Daniel, and why did she hold herself so defensively? Why were her words crisp, and why did she seem comfortable with silence while they waited for Hammond?

“He wasn’t able to make it,” answered Jack after a second’s pause.

If Sam added any meaning other than surprise to that pause, she didn’t show it. “I would have liked to meet him,” she said.

“I doubt that,” answered Jack with the usual snark.

Without turning, Daniel heard Jacob’s footsteps as he came up behind SG-1.

“Dad?”

Turning as Jacob came up between them, Daniel saw the look on the dying general’s face, and had a terrible fear that Jacob wasn’t prepared to be swift and focused enough. Daniel could only hope that he knew how even a short stall might ruin things for good.

ooooooo

Sam had been doing all the talking out loud, but Jolinar’s presence had been very close to her. There was a tenseness in both of them that they couldn’t seem to shake. It was strange, alien, to be so near people who did not give that unnoticed tingle of naquadah; unnoticed until missing, at least, though not for Teal’c. Sam had a moment of near panic when she didn’t know her role as they waited for the true negotiations to begin—what was she going to say to them? This had to be professional, but she felt something was missing, even though she knew that something couldn’t be offered until she had their trust again.

*They are just as on edge,* Jolinar had offered as reassurance. *If not more so.*

Were they? It couldn’t be the same tension, though—Sam felt out of place here, especially as Jack called her by her old rank. She hadn’t realized she would need to reconcile herself back into that way of thinking.

Just as she threw out a half-baked attempt at conversation, someone else came through the gate. Thank god...she was ready for this to be over. She finished up the topic as quickly as she could, waiting for the general to come up to them. With SG-1 in the way, she couldn’t see where he was until they parted rank and—

“Dad?”

~Oh my god.~

*Your father?*

Sam was stricken in her place, limbs and mind frozen alike. Her dad, whom she had not seen or heard from in so many months, was here, of all places. But—god—what was wrong with him? Was he sick? He looked deathly ill in so many ways. She couldn’t voice anything, and thankfully he didn’t seem to expect it. He took painfully slow steps, but he crossed the invisible line to come up to her.

“Dad?” she whispered finally. He barely started to put out his arms before she wrapped her own around him in a tight embrace. “God, dad, what are you doing here?” Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment despite the tactical error, burning behind her eyelids.

“I came to bring you back home,” said Jacob, pulling back and putting his hands up to clasp her face, looking deep in her eyes. “Sam, do you know how worried you’ve made me?”

*Samantha,* began Jolinar, sounding a little unsure, but breaking herself off before she could say anything else.

“It wasn’t exactly my plan,” Sam said with an ironic, sad laugh.

“Sam, sweetheart, I need you to come back with us now,” urged Jacob, his hands slipping from her face to rest on her shoulders. “I know it’s been tough for you, but we can help.”

“Of course I’m coming back,” Sam assured him. “Just as soon as—” She broke off abruptly when she realized that it couldn’t be for a while.

“Sam, I’m not going to last that long,” said Jacob, squeezing her shoulders with only a fraction of the strength he used to have. “I have cancer, and it’s almost got me beat.”

Sam felt a lump rise painfully in her throat. “Dad,” she began, a little shaky, with nothing coming to her mind to follow it. “I—I can’t just come now.”

The light in Jacob’s eyes faded for a second, and he closed his eyes with a sigh.

*Samantha, there is something wrong here,* broke in Jolinar urgently.

~What?~ asked Sam, confused by all the emotions that were rising to the surface.

*Your general has not arrived, and your father...* She didn’t have time to finish it.

In a move almost faster than Sam could see even with Jolinar’s keen sight, Jacob whipped out a hypodermic needle and plunged it into her upper left arm. Jolinar wrenched control as Sam froze, and struck the needle away, breaking it in half before Jacob could inject all its contents.

A fierce look had replaced the light of desperate hope in Jacob’s eyes, and he responded to the glow of Jolinar’s with a hiss of rage.

As Jolinar ripped the broken needle from her arm, she looked beyond the fragile general who was no real threat. SG-1 was raising weapons, and the shimmer of the gate beyond meant only one thing.

*Troops,* hissed Jolinar. *We are betrayed.*

~Sha’re has no protection!~ insisted Sam.

Before a weapon could be raised, Jolinar had taken a step back and roughly pushed Sha’re backwards into the ring circle. Sha’re gasped in shock and opened her mouth to speak, but Jolinar had pressed the button, and the rings came down and she was gone to the ship in a flash of light.

Things were happening too fast; Sam was getting lost in the confusion. Teal’c fired a zat just past Sha’re as she ringed, but that was no worry. The rest of the team seemed just as ready to follow, and Sam only saw determination to take her down in their eyes. And she saw the marines running for them from the gate, guns that did not hold bullets in their hands.

~Tranquilizer darts, Jolinar. The shield may not help us.~

But even as Jolinar acknowledged the fact and was stepping towards the rings herself, they had forgotten Jacob. With all the strength left in him, he came out of their periphery and grabbed at Jolinar, gripping onto her with more strength than he seemed able to possess.

Jolinar was shocked for a moment, and indecisive on what to do.

~Don’t hurt him!~

A tranq dart grazed her leg, and Jolinar hesitated for a moment. They didn’t have another second to waste, and Jolinar suddenly pulled away and jumped backwards into the ring circle. Her symbiote strength was enough, and Jacob couldn’t hold on. But just as Jolinar pressed the button that would ring them to safety, the general stumbled into the circle from the force of his hold breaking, falling heavily into Jolinar and knocking her wind out. There was a flash of light, and then they were falling with a crash onto the hard naquadah floor. Sam heard a crack, and saw stars and Sha’re rushing from just out of the circle to stand above her.

ooooooo

Jack had cursed as the first rings lit, and Daniel’s fear bit sharply at him as Sha’re was whisked away. But even as he heard the support coming from behind, there was nothing to do. His heart sank as Sam/Jolinar escaped again, this time with Jacob as hostage.

“Damn it!” cried Jack as he ran up to the rings, marines a few seconds behind him.

“They must have had a ship,” said Dixon.

“Then they will be gone in a minute at most,” said Teal’c, looking up. “We have failed.”

“Son of a bitch,” murmured Jack, raw emotion full on his face. “We trusted that son of a bitch to do the job, and...”

“They’re gone,” said Daniel quietly. He didn’t even know what he was saying, looking up at the sky where a ship would now be flying away with all his hopes. He didn’t know what should be said.

“Sir, if that thing has a ship, it can fire on us at any moment,” spoke up one of the marines with urgent worry.

“I’m not losing anyone else today,” Jack turned to him, with a fierceness not directed at the marine. “Dial the gate!”

He turned back to Daniel, with a darkness in his eyes that probably mirrored Daniel’s own. “We’re done here,” he all but whispered.

And all Daniel could do at the moment was nod, and follow him as they retreated through the gate. They could start beating themselves over it later.

ooooooo

Sam was barely breathing again after being stunned when Sha’re knelt by her.

“Get me back!” she demanded frantically.

Sam was bewildered, in control as Jolinar was suddenly busy with something. Her dad was still collapsed on top of her.

“I need to go back!” Sha’re continued, eyes darting.

“What?” asked Sam

“They will leave if you do not send me back down, and Dan’yel will be lost to me forever,” Sha’re urged. “Sa’m, I cannot work the technology on my own; you must send me.”


“They were going to shoot you!” protested Sam, her head still fuzzy, but that memory clear.

“It would only have stunned,” said Sha’re, her voice aching with hurry. “They will take me back, and they will see that Amonet is gone—I will be safe. Sa’m, please, hurry!”

Sam saw a horrible desperation in Sha’re’s eyes, as she gripped Sam’s arm and begged for this. “I can’t, Sha’re—what about Shifu?”

Sha’re jerked back, gasping.

“Sha’re, we can’t go back once we leave; it’s now or never,” Sam continued as she sat up, gently rolling her father off to one side. “It’s Daniel or Shifu.”

Sha’re didn’t move, didn’t speak. She stared at Sam.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered, the weight of her confused feelings now crushing her.

Sha’re let out an agonized cry and turned away, crumpling.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered, as she moved closer to her, feeling her grief in this moment as her own.

“Do not speak to me.” Sha’re’s tone was bitter and sharp, and Sam drew away.

~Jolinar?~ Sam reached for her symbiote, lost in her emotions. Then, out loud, “Dad?”

Jacob lay on the floor, eyes shut, breathing heavily. Sam’s emotions were too much, as worry overwhelmed her grief for Sha’re, and she moved to his side. “Dad, are you all right?”

*Samantha,* came Jolinar’s voice, strangely strained.

~What, what’s wrong?~ asked Sam, suddenly noticing an odd feeling in her limbs. Her dad lay limply on the floor, but she couldn’t seem to reach out her hand to check his pulse.

*Sedatives...couldn’t...* Jolinar didn’t finish, and Sam suddenly felt a loss of connection with her.

Her mind was growing dull, her limbs heavy, and she couldn’t even think to know why. Sha’re was to her left, curled in on herself as she was wracked by acute grief; her own father, dying of cancer, was lifeless on the floor of the tel’tak. And the world was going dark. She didn’t hear the crack as she collapsed the floor again.

End of Book 1