Very sorry for the delay. I'm in a bit of a slump, and was trying to force out a chapter of Compromising Positions. Didn't get very far, but there you have it.

A clarifying point! This story takes place late-season-3-ish, a couple of months after the death of Sha're. The episode Divide and Conquer has not yet occurred, so Martouf and Lantash are still alive. We'll see them later. Not a super specific point in time, I know, but I don't have a real need to be specific for the purposes of this fic.

Anywho, enjoy the new chapter!

Queenling: Chapter Four
Snakehead

The Tau'ri homeworld was not at all like Ser'in remembered it, Kendal realized as she stepped from the 'gate and onto the ramp at the SGC. Ser'in's memories were of a wild land of rolling sands and dark-skinned people and grand structures built with such care that Kendal practically see the blood of the human slaves awash upon the stones. The SGC was nothing like that.

"Welcome back, SG-1," a booming voice sounded, causing Kendal to jump and look around for the source, afraid for a moment that another voice had joined her in her head. Ser'in scolded her for being ridiculous, and Kendal told her to shut up because she was a voice in her head. An uninvited one, she might add. "I see you've brought along our guest," the large booming voice continued, which Kendal tentatively identified as belonging to a bald man who was speaking into a metal cylinder in a room high above her head. "Dr. Frasier is waiting for her in the infirmary. Debriefing in an hour." The bald man receded into the loft room so that Kendal could no longer see him.

"Who was that?" she asked curiously as Colonel O'Neill led her down the ramp by his firm grasp on her upper arm. Her hands were still bound, but they had been bound in front of her instead of behind her, and she was no longer being treated with such open hostility, although the Tau'ri were still very wary of her. This now included all of the others that were swarming about in great numbers, all dressed similarly. They watched her carefully, as if she would suddenly lose control and try to rip out somebody's throat with her teeth. But they didn't shoot her, and both Kendal and Ser'in supposed that this was something to be grateful for. Apparently, potential Tok'ra were worth something to them. How much, Kendal couldn't tell, but it was her instinct to trust these people, and her instincts were rarely wrong. What's more, Ser'in agreed with her. Still, it didn't make being so feared any more pleasant.

Daniel Jackson, not surprisingly, treated her with the most kindness. "That was General Hammand," he answered her. "He is the leader of this base."

Ser'in took control, and several of the Tau'ri in the corridor they were walking down jumped in alarm as she did so.

"How can they tell?" Kendal asked. "You haven't said anything."

"Our eyes flash when I take control, kal'ma. Many find this unsettling. This is why it is the custom of my people to duck our heads when we change over, as a more subtle cue," Ser'in explained. Out loud, she then questioned Daniel, "I see. Though not the leader of your people at large?"

"No. That would be the President, and he only leads our country," Daniel informed her. "We have many countries on our planet, though ours is arguably one of the most powerful." This made sense to Ser'in, even though Kendal had never heard of such a word as 'country'. Of course, she had never seen more than four hundred people gathered together at one time. Marthos was not known for its large population.

Quite abruptly, their journey through the corridors of the SGC ended when they stepped into a large room full of many unfamiliar instruments. The people here were dressed in different uniforms than those that Kendal and Ser'in had seen so far: crisp blues and whites. They also seemed palpably less hostile towards them, and more curious. Kendal decided that she liked the infirmary.

With the sharp click of heeled shoes, a small brunette strode purposely over to where Ser'in, Sam, Daniel, and two unfamiliar Tau'ri guards were standing. Teal'c, Kendal noted, was no longer present. He had promised her that he would send a message to the Tok'ra immediately, and it seemed that the Jaffa was as good as his word. "Hello, I am Dr. Frasier," the small woman announced, looking them over with a practiced eye. "You must be Kendal."

"Ser'in, at the moment, actually," Ser'in corrected, sizing up the woman in front of her. Kendal could feel that she approved of her commanding air. "You may speak with her directly, if you wish to."

Dr. Frasier nodded. "I will need to speak with her soon, but that can wait. This way," she directed, herding the group towards a curtained-off area near the back of the room. Ser'in followed, amusement filtering through their spectrum of emotions.

"What's so funny?" Kendal demanded of her in the privacy of her—their—own head. Heads. (She was never going to get used to this.)

"The small healer, in her gruff caring, reminds me of my mother," Ser'in confessed. "I find this very humorous."

"Your mother Egeria?" Kendal pressed.

"Yes, kal'ma. Hush now, Dr. Frasier is speaking!"

Indeed she was. "Now, if you could just sit right here, that would be perfect," she said, indicating a strange sleeping platform. Ser'in did as she requested, sitting down on the edge of the platform somewhat warily as Sam took the serrated edge of her knife to the rope that was tying her wrists together. As she did so, the crowd that had been her escort began to amass awkwardly behind the curtain in the confined space, and Kendal was pretty sure she saw O'Neill and Jackson elbowing at each other for more room when they thought no one was looking.

Dr. Frasier, it seemed, was not having it. "Out!" she demanded, shooing at the bulk of men. "If you have a Y chromosome, I don't want you in here. Out! Out!"

"With all due respect Doctor, we can't leave you alone with the snakehead, ma'am!" one of the unfamiliar guards snapped pertly, shooting Ser'in a look of such suspicion and disgust that it made Kendal tremble, although not outwardly, as she wasn't in control of her body at the moment.

At this remark, Sam, who had been very quiet ever since they had arrived at the SGC, whipped around. "And who do I look like, marine? Leonardo DiCaprio?" she demanded. "The Chief Medical Officer of this base gave you an order, Corporal, and I suggest you follow it. We'll be fine; I have a zat with me. Wait by the door."

The marines did as they were told, and Colonel O'Neill gave Sam a cheeky thumbs-up before following, Jackson in tow. Sam, by this time, was a little pink in the cheeks, but she dutifully drew her zat'nik'tel and held it ready at her side. The entire scene amused Ser'in a great deal, and Kendal could feel her laughter tickling her inside her head. On the outside however, the Tok'ra appeared as calm and collected as ever.

"Right. Now that that's over," Dr. Frasier mumbled. "All right, Ser'in. I would like to speak to Kendal now."

"As you wish," Ser'in responded, dipping her head and relinquishing control.

Kendal swayed a little as she misjudged her balance coming in, but managed to right herself immediately. The transition between them wasn't as easy as one might suspect. "Yes, Dr. Frasier?" she addressed the petite woman politely, blinking at her carefully. The varying degrees of hostility that she and Ser'in had been met with so far was unsettling, especially after she had formed such a good opinion of these people based off of her encounter with SG-1. Ser'in told her that they acted this way because she scared them, but Kendal had a hard time accepting this. They had her bound and under constant guard. What could she possibly do to harm them?

"Be patient with them, kal'ma," Ser'in advised.

"Ah, hello Kendal," Dr. Frasier greeted her, busying herself with the equipment that a female attendant of obviously less importance was wheeling in, now that the others had gone. "Tell me, how are you feeling?"

Kendal thought about that one for a moment before replying. "Frightened," she confessed, staring down at her hands, which she had folded in her lap. "Much is happening, very quickly. I am also a little disappointed. Colonel O'Neill promised me a whole jar of peanut butter if I opened the hidden chamber, but I think that he's angry with me for opening Ser'in's stasis pod. He hasn't given it to me."

For the first time, Kendal saw Dr. Frasier's smile reach her eyes, which were warm and twinkling. "Well, he can get a little cranky sometimes," the doctor offered in O'Neill's defense. "I'll make sure that you get that jar of peanut butter as soon as we're done," she promised.

Perking up considerably, Kendal congratulated herself on putting the small healer, as Ser'in called her, more at ease. "Thank you, Dr. Frasier," she said. "I was telling Ser'in about it on the walk to the Stargate, and she has very much wanted to try it since then."

"Ah, well speaking of Ser'in, we'll get a good look at her in just a moment," Dr. Frasier said, patting the unfamiliar machine that she had been fiddling with. She then picked up a thin, flat square with paper attached to it with a clamp. "But first, I need to know a little more about you, my dear. Full name?"

"Kendal," Kendal answered, not sure why the woman was asking if she already knew.

For a moment, the doctor looked at her as if she expected her to go on, but then shook her head, wrote down the word, and continued. "Age?"

"Nineteen winters."

"Known allergies?"

"None."

"Debilitating injuries or birth defects?"

"None."

"Well, that's about all I suppose you would know how to answer," Frasier sighed. "We'll take height, weight, and blood later. Go ahead and take off your dress," she instructed, placing her papers on a side table and once again turning to the clunky machine.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Kendal began to undo the lacing just under her bosom enough so that she could shimmy free of the rather dusty beige dress, allowing it to flop to the ground at her feet.

"Good riddance, if you ask me," Ser'in sniffed. "The thing was hideous."

Kendal shivered in the rather cool air, wrapping her arms around herself self-consciously, bare except for a pair of plain panties and her corset. "Hey, it was a comfortable dress!" she protested weakly.

"For the body, perhaps, but not for the eyes," Ser'in shot back smugly.

Having no witty quip to return with, Kendal chose not to say anything else, but merely sat back onto the sleeping platform and waited for the next set of Dr. Frasier's instructions. She did not have to wait very long, as the brunette was at her side momentarily and immediately set about doing all manner of strange things: poking and prodding and pinching and timing and writing down everything that she did. Personally, Kendal didn't think that the speed of her knee-jerk reaction was important enough to test, but Dr. Frasier apparently wanted to test everything. "All right, Ser'in. I'll need to speak to you now," she finally requested.

Catching on, Kendal lowered her head and eyes just in time for Ser'in to catch the motion when she took control.

"I am here, Dr. Frasier," the Tok'ra said.

"Good," Frasier affirmed. "Now, I can assume from past experiences that you are keeping Kendal in perfect health, so there's no need for me to perform a more thorough examination than I already have, correct?"

Ser'in nodded, somehow managing to look completely different from Kendal, even though she shared her body. She held herself more stiffly and regally. "Correct."

"Well, with that settled, this is an ultrasound," Dr. Frasier said, gesturing to her device. "I will be using it to shoot high-frequency sound waves into Kendal's body, which will then bounce off of your body where it is wrapped around her spine and back into the transducer. The image of your body will appear up there," The doctor pointed to a dark rectangle. "on the screen. Quick, easy, and painless, I assure you."

Ser'in dipped her head to the small healer. "The First World has come a very long way since I was last here. Your technology is impressive," she told her. "This is not what I, nor my mother, had come to expect of humans."

"Ser'in, just how long exactly were you in stasis?" Sam asked suddenly from her station by the foot of the cot, a frown creasing her kind features.

"I do not know for sure," Ser'in answered honestly. "I was amongst the last of Egeria's clutches, and I was only fifty-two years old when she came to the planet on which I was hidden, removed me from my host, and hid me away in stasis. She told me that Ra had discovered her treachery, and as her last act of freedom, she was hiding me away so that he would never find me and destroy the last hope of the Tok'ra." Ser'in was filled with great sadness at this memory, and Kendal felt the grief that Ser'in had experienced when she had told her last host, which had also been her first, goodbye. Her name was Mischka. She also felt her grief at the thought that her mother would most likely not survive. "And then… I awoke when my stasis jar was opened and a human brought her face to the opening. I thought that someone had finally come for me! But… I was wrong." The worst part of it was, Kendal decided, was that Ser'in was so very old, and at the same time so very young. Ser'in agreed with her.

"No offence," Sam prompted carefully, "but what made you so special? Why would Egeria sacrifice so much to hide you when she had hundreds of other children?"

"Continue with your ultrasound, and you will find out," Ser'in answered cryptically.

Sam and Dr. Frasier exchanged uneasy glances, but Frasier nevertheless carried on, one of her female underlings having arrived with an uncomfortably cold, clear cream that she then proceeded to smooth over Kendal's bronzed skin. Kendal thought it terribly unpleasant, but Ser'in kept them still until she was done. Then, Frasier approached with the transducer, operated a few controls on the machine it was attached to, and pressed the hand-held across Kendal's cream-smeared back, just beneath the nape of her neck. As promised, a grainy, unclear image appeared on the screen, and the worm-like body curled securely around her spine was visible.

"There you are," Frasier muttered, tilting the transducer for a better angle. "Wrapped right where we thought you'd be."

"Follow the spine downwards," Ser'in suggested in her tri-tonal voice.

Surprisingly, Dr. Frasier didn't question this advice, and actually took it, slowly following the contours of Ser'in's sinuous body.

Kendal observed with fascination. Ser'in had shown her what she looked like, but it was another matter entirely to see how she had attached herself to her body. Honestly, she couldn't quite say how she felt about it either. When she had awoken that morning on Marthos, Kendal might have been disgusted at the thought of sharing her body with an alien creature. But the events of that morning hadn't left her with a glowing impression of human nature either, and after meeting complete strangers that were kinder to her than her own family was, Kendal didn't think that worthiness could be measured in human characteristics. Ser'in wasn't human, but she had so far proven herself to be gentle, considerate, understanding, wise, and witty. Kendal liked her better than she did most people, and she had only known her for a matter of hours. She couldn't in good conscience hold the fact that Ser'in needed a host to survive against her.

"Holy Hannah… What is that?" Sam breathed, bringing Kendal's attention back to the ultrasound. It looked slightly different than it had before. For one thing, Dr. Frasier's probe had moved farther down her back, about even with her naval. For another, what had once been one solid eel-like body now appeared to have several extraneous appendages running down either side in ridges. Small and stubby, these growths had no discernable purpose, but were nonetheless strange looking.

"I told you that I was a Queen, didn't I?" Ser'in pointed out. "This is what being a true Queen entails. This is why Egeria went to such lengths to protect me, and why I am her only daughter."

"We kind of thought that was just Goa'uld garbage," Sam mumbled under her breath.

"They're reproductive organs," Dr. Frasier stated in soft realization. "Most Goa'uld, and Tok'ra, by extension, are asexual. But you can produce offspring."

"If you are truly allied to my brothers and sisters, as you say," Ser'in said quietly, quite sepulchral, "you understand that they are a dying race, without a Queen. I am their salvation." She paused for a moment as Kendal tried futilely to soothe the distress she felt at this, before resuming. "You then also understand what a risk it is for me to allow you to know this, for if you served the System Lords, I would most certainly be captured, tortured, and killed, and along with me, the hopes of victory for the Tok'ra."

"Or you could be tricking us, just as Hathor did," Sam threw in, playing devil's advocate.

Ser'in scoffed in distaste, sharing a brief flash of recollection with Kendal of an impatient, sly Goa'uld for which Egeria had held much disdain. "Hathor is a conniving fool," Ser'in pronounced firmly. "I am not deceiving you, but I understand that you will not believe me when I say this. I only ask that you leave my host unharmed and contact my people as soon as possible."

Frasier, flipping off the ultrasound, gave Sam a sharp nod, and the blonde considered for a moment. "I think I'll leave her in the isolation room, Janet," she declared. "It's more comfortable than the cells, but still secure enough to hold her."

"I'll have a nurse make up a bed."

Sam nodded, holstered her zat'nik'tel, and offered Ser'in a folded article of clothing that Dr. Frasier's attendant had brought to her. "Put this on. We'll get you cleaned up and find you something else to wear," she told her. "Hopefully, the Tok'ra will get our message and send someone over."

Ser'in, tired after the day's excitement, allowed Kendal to come to the fore with little protest, and remained hovering in the back of her mind and observing. "Thank you, Sam," Kendal answered solemnly. "And you as well Dr. Frasier."

Both women nodded. Dr. Frasier, however, appeared to have something to say. "Kendal, I know that Ser'in may not like this question, but I have to ask," she sighed. "If she is telling the truth, and is Tok'ra, Ser'in will not stay within an unwilling host. The question is, are you a willing host? Will you remain blended? The Tok'ra will doubtlessly provide a new host for her, if you wish it."

The inquiry threw Kendal through a loop. To be honest, she hadn't thought about it, having been so caught up in everything that had happened to her in so short a time. She had been aware that she would have to come to a decision, of course, but certainly not so soon.

"Your answer will not be binding, kal'ma," Ser'in whispered within the confines of her head. "It is a very, very big decision, and I will understand if you do not wish to be my lifemate. I do not wish to leave you, but I will if you ask it of me, for I would never wish for you to be unhappy."

Kendal did not respond to either Frasier's question or Ser'in's assurances for quite a few moments, lost in thought. When she did answer, the emotional quavering of her own voice surprised her. "Ser'in saved me," she said simply. "As kind as Sam, Colonel O'Neill, Teal'c, and Dr. Jackson were to me, they never would have taken me from Marthos. Ser'in, they would, and did," came the explanation. "She was—and is—kind to me as well, even though she owes me nothing, and is not even human. Ser'in puts my welfare before anything else. No one has ever treated me that way before. Her people need her, although neither of us are sure how desperately, and I find myself very much wanting to fight the Goa'uld as well. My planet is home to many refugees, and I am no stranger to their cruelty, but Ser'in remembers horrors that I can hardly stand to know about. As I am, I am powerless to ease the suffering they cause, but Ser'in can make a difference, and I can make a difference to her." Kendal smiled gently as she felt the welling up of the symbiote's emotions, as if she were about to cry, even though that was impossible for her. "I know her hopes, fears, and joys, and she knows mine. I would never leave her."

Within her own body, Kendal could feel Ser'in tremble lightly. It was an extremely strange sensation. "Oh, Kendal, do you really mean what you say?" she asked. "Truly?"

"I would never lie to you," Kendal assured her.

A surge of happiness, originating from Ser'in, washed over her. "I love you very much, kal'ma," she bubbled warmly.

"I have only known you for mere hours, and yet I feel the same," Kendal admitted. "It feels like I've known you for far longer. How is this possible?"

"It's a bit hard not to know someone extremely well once you're sharing a body," Ser'in answered wryly. Kendal had to admit that she was right.

For her part, Frasier seemed stunned. This was to be expected, although Kendal was more interested in the fact that Sam was nodding, as if she hadn't expected anything less. "If Ser'in is to be believed, she isn't just any Tok'ra," Dr. Frasier pointed out after a moment. "She is a Queen. Are you sure you are prepared to do what will doubtless be required of you, as her host?"

"Yes," Kendal replied grimly, wrinkling her nose a bit. She might have been young, but she wasn't stupid. She had long ago connected the ideas of a dying, sterile race and a long-lost fertile member, and what that would mean for her as a host, or lifemate, as Ser'in called it. She regarded the implications as she would regard a long-lost family member that suddenly introduced themselves to her: entirely foreign and defying everything she had known, but also a part of her that she could not repudiate. Frightening as the concept was, Kendal knew that producing more Tok'ra was important to Ser'in. Therefore, she was okay with it. She would overcome her instinctive trepidation with time, she was sure.

Even with her fear no doubt apparent, the answer seemed to satisfy Dr. Frasier, and she dipped her head in acceptance. "Very well, Kendal," she acknowledged. "We're all done here. You're in pristine health, and Ser'in seems to be too. If you feel any adverse affects from remaining in stasis so long, Ser'in, make sure to let me know. Go ahead and run along with Sam in the meantime, though." The small healer beamed at them, and Kendal returned the gesture with a shy smile of her own.

The doctor left, and Sam showed them how to wear the robe. (Ser'in insisted that the plain, course garment was by no means a robe, for it was not fit to be considered such, and the blonde woman had just laughed at her.) She had then walked with them to the doors of the infirmary where two new guards were waiting. These ones were female, and acted far more professionally than the last set. Kendal had wondered at the reason for the change right up until Sam had shown her what she called a shower in one of the locker rooms, and she realized that the guards would have to keep her within their sight at all times. Mortified, Kendal was seriously considering skipping bathing, goo-covered back and all, but Ser'in had offered to take control and do it instead, as she was by no means embarrassed. (Something Kendal grumbled about bitterly. After all, it wasn't her body, was it? Ser'in had become very huffy at this, and very bluntly informed her that not only had she nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, but the female guards wouldn't care either way.) The flattery, at least, helped a little. That, and Kendal wouldn't have to think about how embarrassed she was if Ser'in was the one interacting with the environment. It wasn't an ideal solution, but Kendal had swallowed her engrained reflex and allowed it, retreating back into her head while Ser'in took control, and trying to tune out her surroundings with some success.

Shooting her a look of mixed sympathy and amusement upon seeing the blush rising on her tawny cheeks, Sam had brusquely informed her that she had something to attend to, and left. She didn't return for a half-hour. In this time, Ser'in had finally managed to wrestle the shower into cooperating long enough to clean themselves off, after quite a few mishaps that had left both bruises and scalded skin. (One of the guards had even cracked her stoic mask and giggled a bit at one point, watching her flail helplessly when she had twisted the wrong nozzle and the water had begun to run ice cold.) They had dressed in a plain set of the olive drab uniform trousers that Kendal had seen many of the Tau'ri wearing and a plain black top with short sleeves. The top was very soft, and Kendal liked it a great deal. Ser'in did not, claiming that the color was all wrong against Kendal's skin, but since they hadn't been given much choice in what to wear (none, actually) she couldn't do much to remedy the situation.

Kendal was seated on one of the long benches in the room and brushing her hair, which was darkened with the water and much longer and wilder than one might have expected once it had been freed from its bun, when Sam walked back in. "Good, you're done!" she observed from the doorway, exchanging nods of greeting with the two guards, who were both smirking slightly. "Finish up and I'll take you to the Isolation Room. Your dinner's waiting for you there."

At the mention of food, Kendal, who had been feeling rather listless, perked up immediately. She was very hungry, even though she sensed that it was rather late at night on this world. It would be evening on her own world as well. "Is it peanut butter?" she asked hopefully, putting the brush down and shaking out her surprisingly wild mane of hair. It was the custom of her people that the women wear their hair pinned back tightly, and Kendal had, by necessity, become very adept at taming it. Ser'in had requested very sweetly that she wear it down though, as she thought that her curls were very pretty, and Kendal hadn't the heart to refuse her. The sudden appearance of the golden-brown explosion of ringlets, only half-dried, that tumbled down to the middle of her back obviously surprised Sam, but she didn't comment.

"One full jar of the stuff, as promised, complete with plastic spoon," the blonde woman assured her.

"I must admit that I am quite curious about this peanut butter. Kendal speaks very highly of it. Is it a delicacy in your culture?" Ser'in asked curiously, standing and walking with Sam from the locker room. Behind her, the previously stoic guards both burst into sudden laughter, and even Sam cracked a large grin.

"They are laughing at me!" Ser'in grumbled in their head, feeling stunned and a little hurt. "I see no humor in an innocent and perfectly logical query."

"Oh, don't be so uptight," Kendal scolded with affection. "You've been treated well and with respect your whole life. I can see it in your memories. Someone laughing at you will be good for you, even if it was an excellent question."

Ser'in sniffed with distaste. "I am a Queen. I am important. Of course I was treated well and respected."

"Would you like to know something I have learned about the Tau'ri, Ser'in?" Kendal asked.

Ser'in sent her affirmative.

"Their respect? It has to be earned."

Ser'in was quiet after that.

"Uh, no. Peanut butter isn't a delicacy," Sam explained after she had taken a moment to control her mirth, although a small smirk still tugged at the corner of her mouth, curling it like the petal of a budding flower. Kendal was glad to see this. Even after the woman's attitude towards her had cooled considerably, she could still feel the kindness she exuded very clearly, and still admired her greatly. She was glad to see her smile, because Sam's eyes looked tired, as if they had seen much pain and not quite enough happiness. "It's actually a very common food for us," the woman continued, oblivious to Kendal's scrutiny. "We use it in a lot of things. Like the power bar I gave you and the ones you won off of Colonel O'Neill. But we also use it to make sandwiches and candies and cookies and many other foods as well."

Before Kendal could respond, they arrived at the infirmary again, and Sam began leading them to a door just off to one side of it. The halls were less densely populated than they had been before, supporting Kendal's inference that it was somewhat late at night on this planet, but they still received the occasional poorly concealed stare as they passed by. There were two male guards standing outside of the door.

"Wait here," Sam instructed the current female guards. They nodded sharply to show that they understood, taking positions beside the other military men, while Sam opened the door and led Kendal into the large room.

The first thing that Ser'in noticed was the line of windows near the ceiling. "It's an observation deck," she informed her lifemate. "They will be watching us, not that I had expected any different."

"No," Kendal agreed morosely. "They won't stop watching until they are absolutely sure that you are genuinely Tok'ra." She looked around the room at floor level now, taking in the clean little bed in the center of the room. A table at its side held a tray of unusual-looking food, but that was pretty much the only other defining characteristic of the isolation room. The walls were cold and grey, just like every other wall that she had seen here, and unadorned. A black box was positioned on top of another table against the wall directly across from the bed, but that was it.

"Here's your dinner," Sam was saying, gesturing at the tray. "When you're done, you can give it to one of the guards outside of the door. Ask them if you need to use the restroom, as well. Then, I'd suggest getting some sleep. I'll come by in the morning with a game or something for you to do while you wait, and I'll show you how to use the TV, ok?"

Kendal nodded and sat gingerly on the mattress provided. It was cushier than the one she had used during her medical examination, and it bounced a little when she moved. "Thank you for being so kind to me, Sam," she sighed, staring at her feet. "I know you didn't have to be, and that everyone here is afraid of me. I just… wanted you to know that I'm grateful."

When she looked up again, Sam was staring off into space and looking a bit misty-eyed. A few heartbeats passed before she once again focused her sad blue eyes on Kendal's face. "I believe you, you know," she blurted. "That Ser'in is Tok'ra." Shaking her head, Sam seemed to then decide how much to tell her. "Quite a few months ago, a Tok'ra named Jolinar took me as a host. It was an emergency; the settlement we were at was under attack by the Goa'uld and her host was dying… We had never met the Tok'ra. We didn't understand that there was such a thing as a 'good' Goa'uld," she elaborated, looking incredibly sad. "No one believed me. My friends, my family… they were all looking at me in the worst sort of way. Like I was someone only pretending to be me. It was awful. They locked Jolinar and I away until they could figure out if we were lying or not, but we were only there for a short time before an Ashrak got to us. Jolinar… she died to save me, and from her memories, we found the Tok'ra. But… I never forgot her," she sighed. "No one here quite understands the Tok'ra. Not really. It was hard then, mourning the death of a symbiote that everyone was half-convinced was still evil. Even after we found other Tok'ra, it was hard." At this point, Sam was gazing at her in earnest, and Kendal found the intensity of her bright blue eyes mesmerizing. Ser'in was absolutely silent, listening intently. "If you are who you say you are, Ser'in," Sam said, "then you must not let the alliance between our peoples fail. We may be a suspicious bunch, but no more so than the Tok'ra themselves. Many Tok'ra, and many Tau'ri, do not see the benefit in our friendship. But I do: and so, I think, do you."

Kendal nodded. "Two sides of one coin," she murmured. "Teach them daring, they will teach you caution. Teach them humility, they will show you history. Teach them friendship, they will teach you independence. Teach them diversity, they will teach you tolerance. The Goa'uld cannot be defeated by one race alone."

"Exactly," Sam confirmed, smiling a little and handing them a clear plastic spoon. With that, she turned and left, and Ser'in and Kendal were alone.

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