Sam rushed to Vala's side and knelt down as the other women around them fled in different directions.

"What the hell are you doing?" She hissed anxiously.

"Getting us into the med bay," Vala answered.

Without any further explanation, Vala grabbed Sam's hand, and jabbed the point of a tiny knife into her ring finger twice. Sam let out a shriek that was more outrage than pain and then she found out how strong Vala really was when she tried to pull her hand back.

"Hold still and keep screaming," Vala instructed. They could hear the heavy boot steps of a guard running down metal stairs and coming in their direction. "Don't worry. It's dead."

"What's dead?" Sam demanded and then it all became clear as Vala jammed the pincers of a very disgusting insect into the holes she had made in Sam's finger. Sam let out another holler of fury.

"Can you please try to sound frightened!" Vala begged.

The guard was getting closer, boots ringing on the damp floor in agitation. Sam collapsed on the floor next to Vala, putting pressure on her bleeding finger and fighting the urge to yank the vile looking bug out. Even if it was dead and not pumping venom into her, it was gross. But she didn't know what the effect of pulling out the pincers would be so she left it there.

"You could have warned me," Sam complained.

"You're a horrible actress, darling," Vala answered. She stopped talking and began moaning and crying, rolling on the floor as if she was in terrible pain. It was then that Sam saw an identical wound with an identical bug attached to the inside of Vala's left arm.

Sam gave up arguing lest they be overheard and – mindful of Vala's warning about how hard these men would work to break her - made do with hunching over on the floor breathing hard and biting her lip.

The guard reached them, seized a wrist in each one of his huge hands and hauled them to their feet. Vala was still carrying on as if she was trying for a best dramatic actor award. Sam gasped – mostly from the stench coming off the guard – and tried to pretend she was passing out. The guard caught her under the arm and pulled her forward, a movement that pushed her up against the knife on his belt. It would be so easy to grab it and plunge it into the gap just below the edge of his upper body armor. Sam's fingers itched as she resisted the instinct.

"Get your hand out of the way!" He snapped at Vala, twisting her arm around to see the wound on it with the insect body hanging from it. As Vala cried out again from the rough treatment, he swore in the language Sam recognized as Goa'uld.

The grip on Sam's wrist tightened to the point of pain as he jerked her hand around, pulling her even closer. The hilt of his knife brushed against Sam's other hand. Sam glanced away and into Vala's warning look.

"Useless fledglings," the guard growled.

He let go of them so suddenly they both stumbled and Sam nearly fell. They were shoved in the direction of the stairs and then prodded all the way back up to the walkway. They were then shoved into the ungentle arms of one of the other guards. Neither man appeared to be anything but annoyed by the situation. Apparently it happened often enough not to raise suspicion.

"Get them to the med bay," he snarled, "and tell Cian to be careful this time. Ar'loc isn't going to like it if he loses two more on their first shift. Not after last time."

Sam and Vala were dragged unceremoniously out a door and into another dingy corridor. Vala continued to moan and sob like a broken slave. Sam continued to act like she was barely conscious, keeping her head down and her eyes half closed. She suspected that Vala's overly dramatic act was to keep the focus off of Sam, for which she was grateful.

After the darkness everywhere else, the med bay was so clean and brightly lit that it hurt their eyes. Apparently it was tough to keep healthy slaves down in the spice mine. The guard pushed them inside and then slammed the door. The medic – presumably Cian - was also a surprise. He was a tired looking middle-aged human in a shabby lab coat.

"Up on the table, one of you," he said, with a listless gesture in the direction of the sole piece of furniture in the room.

Vala leaned over and whispered to Sam, "Keep his attention."

Sam gave a barely discernable nod and staggered to the table, pulling herself up on it with shaking arms. The medic took Sam's hand in his with surprising gentleness. He examined it carefully and then said, "The hajsu appears to be dead. That's odd."

"Maybe I killed it when I was trying to get it off?" Sam asked, timidly. She looked up at him through her lashes. She might not know how to be a helpless female but she knew how to flirt.

"Hmmm," he said, "Maybe. It would explain why the puncture wounds are so large. Did you shake your hand?"

"I think so," Sam said, "Was that bad?"

"It isn't good," the man sighed.

He walked over to the counter of vials and bottles and boxes where Vala was leaning over pathetically, whimpering, "It hurts. It hurts."

Cian patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Yes I know. It's not an easy life down there."

"Why are you here?" Sam asked, drawing his attention back.

Cian came back to the table and began swabbing her finger with a numbing solution. A moment later he had used tweezers to pull the bug away. Sam couldn't stop the sigh of relief or the grateful smile. Cian stared for a moment before answering her question. Sam had seen that 'stop and stare' reaction before. She ducked her head and smiled again shyly.

"I was captured years ago," he said, "They let me live when they found out I had medical training. I've been here ever since." He paused to shrug, "It isn't a bad life. It's better than what they do to the women and a million times better than what they usually do to the men."

When he started to glance over at Vala again Sam cried out as if she was in pain and clutched his hand.

"I'm sorry!" He said, quickly, and Sam saw the measure of compassion and puzzlement in his expression. "There shouldn't be any more pain."

"It's all right," she whispered, "I'm sure you didn't mean it."

"Are you ever going to help me?" Vala whined.

Cian started as if he had just remembered Vala was in the room, in spite of her continuous moaning.

"Yes, come here," he said. Sam let him help her hop down from the table and waited quietly while he worked on Vala's wound. Vala didn't even try to flirt with him. She simply stayed in character as piteously broken, whining and complaining through the entire procedure.

When he was done he banged on the door. It slid open to reveal the guard.

"They're both fine. No permanent damage," he said.

"Then let's go, fledglings," the guard sneered, "Nice work getting out of the end of your shift! We'll have to make you work double tomorrow."

Sam and Vala shared a look as they were prodded back down the corridor with the hilt of a neron whip. They hated to disappoint the guy, but they really had no plans to even be here tomorrow.

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