Broken 9 & 10
by Sharim
~9~
For the first time since she was cleared for active duty, Sam wished she had never heard of the Stargate.
"You have a go," Hammond called out.
She turned to him slowly, offering up a tight smile. She knew it wasn't his fault that they were being sent on this mission. In a way, it was their own fault, their own inability to talk about something or to think about something that had happened to them.
Which was worse, she pondered as she kept her eyes glued to the ground and followed O'Neill up the ramp: talking and thinking about it or going back there?
Logically, the answer was that going back was worse. But... but some part of her, the twisted, vulture-like part of her, *wanted* to go back. She wanted to go back, like people always wanted to be at the scene of the crime, like people always wanted to have all the gory details.
She shivered violently as they stepped through the cold of the gate into the burning heat of the sun on the Tok'ra home world. How many times the Tok'ra had jumped world since they had been allies? Sam had lost count and this world was as new to her as some of the planets she explored. Still, it looked your regular Tok'ra home world: Desert. Sand and grit as far as her eyes could see, nothing standing out in the bleak and pale landscape.
And then Jacob was there, seeming to appear out of nowhere as he approached them, shaking the sand from his shoulders.
"We were wondering where you were," he said curtly, nodding at Jack and shooting a wary glance at Sam.
Sam felt her hackles raise. It wasn't directly his fault, she *knew* that. But she needed someone to blame, and with Selmak being in her Dad's body... it was simply easier to just lump them together as one and hate them both.
"Took a wrong turn. Sorry," O'Neill answered, and even she couldn't fail to notice the usual lack of oomph in his sarcasm.
"Come on. The transport is this way."
Silently they fell into step behind Jacob, walking next to each other as if to provide some sort of protection. Sam frowned angrily. Protection.
This wasn't about protection. It was about the two of them being the only humans, the only *ex-prisoners* from that place, and for that reason drawing together. She didn't want to turn to O'Neill for someone she could relate to. She didn't want anything to do with *him*. Ever again.
Her stride lengthened, and she walked next to her father. At least he hadn't betrayed her. Yet.
* * *
Jochen was waiting at the ship, standing quietly at his control panel.
They are here. Pernon announced, moving away from the helm and taking up his position at the weapons stall.
Jochen nodded, his fingers quivering as they rested on the control panel.
"Relax." Larya appeared next to him, slipping a slender hand over his. "We aren't anywhere near it yet." She smiled gently.
"I know." He smiled roughly in return, thanking Yalman for controlling his emotions.
"When this is over we will all go to Pelman, and then you and Nicu can stare at the stars all you want," she teased him.
And what of you and I, Larya? Yalman surfaced, his lips pulled back in a smile of amusement.
"We will pass the time, Yalman." She kissed him lightly and then pulled away.
Larya, your position is not here. Pernon rapped out.
The Tok'ra smiled again and squeezed Jochen's hand before moving away to the far side of the cabin.
"Let's go." Jacob entered the ship, O'Neill and Carter following warily behind him.
Jochen watched them cautiously; he did not believe this plan was wise. Carter, the woman, looked as though she might be ill with tension, while the man, O'Neill, kept his face impassively calm. If Jochen had not known better he would have assumed the control O'Neill showed on his face was due to a Tok'ra symbiote. He admired the man's strength.
Pernon nodded, and Jacob took his place at the helm.
"Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go," O'Neill muttered.
Jochen glanced at him again, and noticed the glare Carter shot in his direction. Things were not well between them.
* * *
As much as he loved flying, spaceships, space aliens, exploring planets, Star Wars and all of the above, O'Neill couldn't help but feel a little *bored* as he sat against the bulkhead.
"So... how long still?" He asked for what must have been the millionth time.
"Jack, if you ask that question one more time..." Jacob let the question hang in the air, and O'Neill sighed.
Six hours. A woman snakehead answered.
He looked over at her, trying to remember her name.
I am Nicu, Colonel. She smiled gently.
For some totally insane reason, Jack thought of Daniel. And then regretted it instantly. "What about your host?" He tried desperately to blot the images out of his mind, and focusing on the Tok'ra next to him seemed to be the best option.
"Larya." She smiled up at him.
When her eyes weren't flashing gold, they were a nice blue kind of colour, Jack realised as she looked up at him. And her hair was kinda pretty too... a golden blond colour, like Carter's- Damn.
He sighed.
"The journey is almost over." She mistook his sigh, but he didn't correct her.
"Six hours is so not almost over," he muttered. Her laughter tinkled throughout the room, and he gazed at her in surprise. What was this? A Tok'ra with a sense of *humour*?
"When compared to the eighteen hours already past, then it is almost over," she said eventually.
He looked over at her. "You a scientist?" He demanded suspiciously.
"No." She shook her head. "I am not. Nicu is, as is Jochen."
"And you live *willingly* with that?" He asked in disbelief.
"Yes." She nodded, her eyes glinting. "I am now, as Jacob told me, smart without having to learn."
O'Neill shot a look at Jacob before turning back to his current companion. "So... how did you get a sense of humour?"
Once again she burst into laughter. "Is one so unusual, Colonel?"
"No. Well... it depends," he stumbled.
"The world where I come from is fairly well advanced, compared to most civilisations you have encountered," Larya said eventually. "Our culture and enjoyment of laughter is also developed... Added to that, I have spent a fair amount of time in Jacob's company while on various missions."
"That would work on anyone," O'Neill commented, earning another chuckle.
"As, I imagine, would being exposed to your sense of humour for a prolonged period of time."
O'Neill chuckled, relaxing against the bulkhead. "So, do you know any jokes?"
* * *
She glanced over at the bulkhead as once again a peal of laughter sounded through out the ship, coupled with the sound of O'Neill's chuckle.
She wasn't jealous. She really wasn't jealous that it wasn't her sitting next to him, giggling at his lame comments.
No. She wasn't jealous. She knew who he was.
"May I join you?" She looked up, a blush staining her cheeks as she realised someone might have seen her 'interesting' facial expression change over the last couple of minutes.
"I guess." She nodded, shifting away uneasily as the younger Tok'ra male sat down next to her.
"I am Jochen."
"I know." She nodded. She glanced at him, studying his face, trying to remember where she'd seen him... "Do I know you?"
"We have met on several occasions now." He nodded slowly, his eyes slipping from hers.
"Did you know Jolinar?" Maybe that was where the feeling of familiarity lay.
"No. She... she left before I became Tok'ra."
"Oh." She looked at him again.
Golden eyes. Zat gun.
"I know you from somewhere," she stated again. He knew where. She could see it in his eyes.
'You killed him!'
'Major Carter. My name is Yalman. I am Tok'ra.'
Blood on her lips. Concerned brown eyes.
Zat gun.
"You were there."
His head snapped up.
"You were there. You were the one who killed the First Prime when... when..."
"Please..." Jochen begged as she jerked away from him.
She stopped and faced him, licking her lips carefully. "I... I bit you."
He smiled, relief on his features. "You did."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay." He brushed it off. "I shot you," he added, eyeing her apologetically.
"It's okay." She grinned uncertainly, watching him.
He smiled as well, and leant back against the wall. A comfortable silence fell over them, only broken by the sound of laughter from around the bulkhead.
"May... may I ask you something?"
She glanced over at him. "I guess."
"How... how were you captured?"
She closed her eyes.
'Sir, are you *nuts*?'
'Is that anyway to speak to a commanding officer?'
"I'm sorry," he apologised again.
"No... no. It's okay."
"I should have known better than to ask questions. My curiosity..."
"It's okay."
'They haven't seen us yet, Jack.'
'But they will see us.'
'Not necessarily, O'Neill.'
'For crying out loud, that's not a risk I'm about to take!'
She sighed, staring at the wall. "We... there were... the Jaffa..."
'Sir, if they realise one of us is here, they are going to know the rest of us are here. They're not stupid. They know SG teams have more than one member.'
'They won't know it's an SG team. They won't know it's me.'
'Jack, how do you intend on distracting them without them realising you're from Earth?'
'Daniel, it's either this or wait until one of the villagers blows our cover.'
'Sir...'
'Carter?'
'There are too many of them and too many risks in your plan. If something goes wrong...'
'It won't go wrong.'
'I believe you are incorrect, O'Neill.'
'Well thank you, Mr. Positive.'
'Sir...'
'*Major*'
"Our luck just ran out," she said eventually. "A bad call, some bad luck, too many Jaffa..."
She sighed, turning away from him.
Jochen nodded, realising he'd pushed it too far.
'Sir, this is suicide.'
'Do you have a better plan?'
'We wait.'
'That's not a plan.'
'Sir...'
'It's settled then. Daniel, you dial up as soon as the path's clear.'
'What about you, Jack?'
'What *about* me?'
'I believe Daniel Jackson means how will you return, O'Neill?'
'That's irrelevant.'
'No, it's not...'
'You have your orders, Major. Now follow them.'
Jacob. The voice jerked her out of her memory.
She looked up as the older Tok'ra male, Pernon spoke up.
"What?" Her Dad sounded annoyed. Not surprising considering how many times O'Neill had asked him 'how long still?'. He was such a child sometimes...
We are nearing Genda.
"I know." Jacob sighed.
A feeling of dread and foreboding settled over her.
We will not have time soon, when we approach the Goa'uld region. Pernon continued.
Jacob stood up slowly.
"Jack... Sam." Noise died away and all she was aware of was her father's lips, forming the words that she never wanted to hear. "We have to talk about..."
"No we don't," O'Neill stopped him, his voice jarring in the awkward silence.
Unfortunately we do, Colonel. It is important. We have to discuss the areas best to target.
They fell silent, and Sam was happy he was hidden from her view.
"The factory," O'Neill said curtly.
You are familiar with the factory?
"Yes."
She felt more than saw them turn to her.
Major Carter.
She didn't answer.
You are familiar with the Palace.
Silence.
Will you please assist Larya and Yalman in their mission?
"Sam... please." Jacob's voice broke the silence. "Please."
Flames.
Marching. Cold floors.
Echoes.
Defilement.
Slowly her head dipped. She was betraying herself. "Yes."
~10~
Worrying will not achieve anything.
Jacob sighed, acknowledging the truth in Selmak's words. That didn't mean that he could just *stop* worrying though. He sat back in his chair, silently watching as his daughter huddled against the bulkhead, wishing he wasn't doing this to her.
You are not doing it to her, Jacob. It is the Goa'uld.
Jacob glared with his mind at Selmak, and she respected his irritation enough to keep quiet.
He sighed again, his eyes shifting over to Jack. And the worry in him grew.
Jacob. he looked up to see Pernon standing next to him. Jacob, I know that you are fond of the Tau'ri, and that Samantha is your daughter, but... Perhaps a memory recall device would be more effective and a lot safer to ourselves as well as the humans.
"No." Jacob shook his head. "No. I won't make them witness it all over again. And I won't let everyone else see what they don't want them to see."
Pernon dipped his head in acknowledgement, and then hesitated. Jacob... they are not responding. If they are like this when we land-
"They won't be. I know them, Pernon. I know that they're both strong and-"
You knew them, Jacob. You said yourself that they have both changed much since their imprisonment.
Jacob scowled, and realised that some of the worry burning in him was due to Pernon's argument. "Just because they're not talking doesn't mean that-"
Look at them. Pernon hissed.
They are suffering. Selmak pushed Jacob out of the way. Had you been through what they have been through I doubt you would behave differently.
I do not condemn them for acting as they are, Selmak. I am pointing out that in their unresponsive states they could endanger the entire mission.
"They said they'd help," Jacob snapped. "They said they would. They have too much of a sense of duty in them to be able to just let their own personal fears win. You watch, Pernon. I don't doubt either of them."
And as the words passed over his lips, and his eyes traveled over the two people, each huddling silently and reclusively in their respective corners, he couldn't help but wonder if he was putting his hope on the wrong people.
* * *
MISSION BRIEFING
MISSION: GENDA
MISSION OBJECTIVES:
1) Assist Tok'ra
2) Procure prototypes
3) Terminate Goa'uld
4) Destroy Facility
MISSION DEPARTURE: 1054 hours 2/18/06
SG TEAM: NO ASSIGNED TEAM.
PERSONS PRESENT: COLONEL JONATHAN 'JACK' O'NEILL
MAJOR SAMANTHA CARTER
* * *
"Ready?" Jacob whispered, his voice harsh and grating against the still night air.
"Ready." Jochen nodded. By the light of the red moons shining down on them, Sam could see the gleam of her bright teeth as Larya grinned in agreement.
They looked at Sam.
She looked down at the red grains of sand already sticking to the palms of her hands from when she had crawled out of the ship and to the cover of the small dune.
"Okay. Sam, you go with Yalman and Larya. Yalman, you know what the MO is. Sam, you show them how to get to all the places he needs to get, okay?"
Sam continued to stare at the sands.
Jacob sighed and turned to Pernon and O'Neill. "You're with me. We'll take out the factory."
"What about the Goa'uld?" Larya hissed, stopping Jacob.
"When the Facility blows we should get him in the blast." Jacob dismissed it.
Sam looked up. Not if this was your usual smarmy-assed Goa'uld. Those things had more resilience against death than a cat had against a bath.
"However, if you do come across him then you can take him out."
Sam shuddered.
"The cosmic grape vine indicates that our last raid here caused an upheaval in the power ladder, so the Goa'uld in charge is a new one. We don't know much about him," Jacob continued. "Is that all?"
Yalman and Larya looked at each other, glanced at Sam, and then nodded.
"Okay then. Let's go."
Silently the four Tok'ra melted towards the dark shadows of the imposing stone walls. Sam hesitated for a fraction of a second. This place. She shuddered, and stepped backwards. And then she realised that O'Neill hadn't moved either. He was standing a little in front of her, gazing at the wall with an indescribable expression on his face.
She stiffened her shoulders and stood up. Determinedly she walked towards the wall. She wouldn't let O'Neill beat her.
Behind her she heard the sand shuffle as he jogged to catch up. Wordlessly, she ran ahead to the Tok'ra.
* * *
It was the smell that got him. Not so much the scenery, the sounds or even the feeling of being imprisoned again. It was the smell.
He gagged, desperately pulling himself upright and trying to hide his sudden fear from his companions.
"You okay, Jack?"
He nodded, not raising his eyes to Jacob.
This was the place where it had all happened. Over a year of his life, wasted here. Viciously he stuffed all the feelings, all the emotions threatening to overpower him into a small, hidden corner of himself. He *wouldn't* let this place beat him.
"Lead on, McDuff." Jacob stepped back.
Jack eyed the empty corridor warily.
Where were the patrols? There were always patrols going past, either guarding or heading somewhere with purpose. Either way, the silence was almost more frightening than facing the guards themselves.
"The packing rooms, Jack. We want to go where the transport rings are," Jacob whispered.
Pernon glared at Jacob, and Jack saw the look. Pernon didn't think he could do it. Pernon thought the Goa'uld had beaten him.
Jack straightened his shoulders. Silently he set off, Zat gun at the ready while he crept along the shadows cast by the flickering torches. It was something he'd never quite figured out. Why, with all the technology possessed by the Goa'uld, this one insisted on using burning torches for light he still couldn't work out. He sniffed, and again the scent entered his nostrils, clogging his mind. But he fought it.
He was stronger than the Goa'uld.
* * *
The smell permeating the corridors made her feel sick, and she marveled that anyone could have survived for more than a year.
Larya remained silent as she followed behind the blond woman while Jochen led them through the maze of dark and stinking tunnels, only the light of the burning torches glinting off the gold walls guided them.
"Is this the way to the lines?" Larya whispered, touching the woman's shoulder to get her attention.
Larya blinked and found herself lying on her back on the floor, the blond woman gazing down at her with blank, expressionless blue eyes.
"What happened?" Jochen hissed, ill-concealed anxiety carrying clearly on his voice.
"I don't know. She threw me!" The Tok'ra complained, rubbing at her head. Nicu soothed the tension in her body quickly, providing a calm that Larya was grateful too. Often in the past her temper had gotten the better of her and she had said things, done things even... But Nicu was a gentle soul, and they were well suited to one another.
"Why?" Jochen turned to the woman, concern in his eyes.
She shrank against the wall, her fair skin glowing with a red hue in the flickering light. Her eyes remained dark and downcast.
"What did you do?" Jochen turned to Larya.
"I asked her if this was the right way..."
"And she threw you?" Jochen frowned in curiosity.
It was fear, Jochen. Larya forgets the woman is returning to place of suffering... She did not expect for us to touch her shoulder. Nicu said softly, looking apologetically at the human still huddling against the wall.
Jochen nodded, understanding flooding through him. Had Major Carter not reacted in a manner similar to that when he had first rescued her? She had bitten him, her only thoughts of defense. It was understandable.
Major Carter, are we headed the right direction towards the assembly lines? Nicu asked gently.
The woman looked, nothing showing in her eyes.
"Please, Samantha, you have to help us," Jochen pleaded, advancing towards her.
She backed away, fear and terror shining in her eyes as the torch light fell upon them.
Larya sighed in frustration.
"It was a possibility," Jochen reminded her calmly. "The maps we studied before we came... we should be able to find it."
"It will take time," Larya hissed. "Time we do not have."
"We will make the time," Jochen said firmly. "Come."
Larya waited until the woman, the Tau'ri was once again between herself and Jochen, Jochen leading the way along the twisted corridor.
A war between disgust and understanding raged internally as she stared at Major Carter's back. Disgust that someone could let themselves be beaten into a submissive, fearful creature. Yet, there was understanding because she knew what the Goa'uld were capable of. Her ancestors were the Goa'uld.
* * *
by Sharim
~9~
For the first time since she was cleared for active duty, Sam wished she had never heard of the Stargate.
"You have a go," Hammond called out.
She turned to him slowly, offering up a tight smile. She knew it wasn't his fault that they were being sent on this mission. In a way, it was their own fault, their own inability to talk about something or to think about something that had happened to them.
Which was worse, she pondered as she kept her eyes glued to the ground and followed O'Neill up the ramp: talking and thinking about it or going back there?
Logically, the answer was that going back was worse. But... but some part of her, the twisted, vulture-like part of her, *wanted* to go back. She wanted to go back, like people always wanted to be at the scene of the crime, like people always wanted to have all the gory details.
She shivered violently as they stepped through the cold of the gate into the burning heat of the sun on the Tok'ra home world. How many times the Tok'ra had jumped world since they had been allies? Sam had lost count and this world was as new to her as some of the planets she explored. Still, it looked your regular Tok'ra home world: Desert. Sand and grit as far as her eyes could see, nothing standing out in the bleak and pale landscape.
And then Jacob was there, seeming to appear out of nowhere as he approached them, shaking the sand from his shoulders.
"We were wondering where you were," he said curtly, nodding at Jack and shooting a wary glance at Sam.
Sam felt her hackles raise. It wasn't directly his fault, she *knew* that. But she needed someone to blame, and with Selmak being in her Dad's body... it was simply easier to just lump them together as one and hate them both.
"Took a wrong turn. Sorry," O'Neill answered, and even she couldn't fail to notice the usual lack of oomph in his sarcasm.
"Come on. The transport is this way."
Silently they fell into step behind Jacob, walking next to each other as if to provide some sort of protection. Sam frowned angrily. Protection.
This wasn't about protection. It was about the two of them being the only humans, the only *ex-prisoners* from that place, and for that reason drawing together. She didn't want to turn to O'Neill for someone she could relate to. She didn't want anything to do with *him*. Ever again.
Her stride lengthened, and she walked next to her father. At least he hadn't betrayed her. Yet.
* * *
Jochen was waiting at the ship, standing quietly at his control panel.
They are here. Pernon announced, moving away from the helm and taking up his position at the weapons stall.
Jochen nodded, his fingers quivering as they rested on the control panel.
"Relax." Larya appeared next to him, slipping a slender hand over his. "We aren't anywhere near it yet." She smiled gently.
"I know." He smiled roughly in return, thanking Yalman for controlling his emotions.
"When this is over we will all go to Pelman, and then you and Nicu can stare at the stars all you want," she teased him.
And what of you and I, Larya? Yalman surfaced, his lips pulled back in a smile of amusement.
"We will pass the time, Yalman." She kissed him lightly and then pulled away.
Larya, your position is not here. Pernon rapped out.
The Tok'ra smiled again and squeezed Jochen's hand before moving away to the far side of the cabin.
"Let's go." Jacob entered the ship, O'Neill and Carter following warily behind him.
Jochen watched them cautiously; he did not believe this plan was wise. Carter, the woman, looked as though she might be ill with tension, while the man, O'Neill, kept his face impassively calm. If Jochen had not known better he would have assumed the control O'Neill showed on his face was due to a Tok'ra symbiote. He admired the man's strength.
Pernon nodded, and Jacob took his place at the helm.
"Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go," O'Neill muttered.
Jochen glanced at him again, and noticed the glare Carter shot in his direction. Things were not well between them.
* * *
As much as he loved flying, spaceships, space aliens, exploring planets, Star Wars and all of the above, O'Neill couldn't help but feel a little *bored* as he sat against the bulkhead.
"So... how long still?" He asked for what must have been the millionth time.
"Jack, if you ask that question one more time..." Jacob let the question hang in the air, and O'Neill sighed.
Six hours. A woman snakehead answered.
He looked over at her, trying to remember her name.
I am Nicu, Colonel. She smiled gently.
For some totally insane reason, Jack thought of Daniel. And then regretted it instantly. "What about your host?" He tried desperately to blot the images out of his mind, and focusing on the Tok'ra next to him seemed to be the best option.
"Larya." She smiled up at him.
When her eyes weren't flashing gold, they were a nice blue kind of colour, Jack realised as she looked up at him. And her hair was kinda pretty too... a golden blond colour, like Carter's- Damn.
He sighed.
"The journey is almost over." She mistook his sigh, but he didn't correct her.
"Six hours is so not almost over," he muttered. Her laughter tinkled throughout the room, and he gazed at her in surprise. What was this? A Tok'ra with a sense of *humour*?
"When compared to the eighteen hours already past, then it is almost over," she said eventually.
He looked over at her. "You a scientist?" He demanded suspiciously.
"No." She shook her head. "I am not. Nicu is, as is Jochen."
"And you live *willingly* with that?" He asked in disbelief.
"Yes." She nodded, her eyes glinting. "I am now, as Jacob told me, smart without having to learn."
O'Neill shot a look at Jacob before turning back to his current companion. "So... how did you get a sense of humour?"
Once again she burst into laughter. "Is one so unusual, Colonel?"
"No. Well... it depends," he stumbled.
"The world where I come from is fairly well advanced, compared to most civilisations you have encountered," Larya said eventually. "Our culture and enjoyment of laughter is also developed... Added to that, I have spent a fair amount of time in Jacob's company while on various missions."
"That would work on anyone," O'Neill commented, earning another chuckle.
"As, I imagine, would being exposed to your sense of humour for a prolonged period of time."
O'Neill chuckled, relaxing against the bulkhead. "So, do you know any jokes?"
* * *
She glanced over at the bulkhead as once again a peal of laughter sounded through out the ship, coupled with the sound of O'Neill's chuckle.
She wasn't jealous. She really wasn't jealous that it wasn't her sitting next to him, giggling at his lame comments.
No. She wasn't jealous. She knew who he was.
"May I join you?" She looked up, a blush staining her cheeks as she realised someone might have seen her 'interesting' facial expression change over the last couple of minutes.
"I guess." She nodded, shifting away uneasily as the younger Tok'ra male sat down next to her.
"I am Jochen."
"I know." She nodded. She glanced at him, studying his face, trying to remember where she'd seen him... "Do I know you?"
"We have met on several occasions now." He nodded slowly, his eyes slipping from hers.
"Did you know Jolinar?" Maybe that was where the feeling of familiarity lay.
"No. She... she left before I became Tok'ra."
"Oh." She looked at him again.
Golden eyes. Zat gun.
"I know you from somewhere," she stated again. He knew where. She could see it in his eyes.
'You killed him!'
'Major Carter. My name is Yalman. I am Tok'ra.'
Blood on her lips. Concerned brown eyes.
Zat gun.
"You were there."
His head snapped up.
"You were there. You were the one who killed the First Prime when... when..."
"Please..." Jochen begged as she jerked away from him.
She stopped and faced him, licking her lips carefully. "I... I bit you."
He smiled, relief on his features. "You did."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay." He brushed it off. "I shot you," he added, eyeing her apologetically.
"It's okay." She grinned uncertainly, watching him.
He smiled as well, and leant back against the wall. A comfortable silence fell over them, only broken by the sound of laughter from around the bulkhead.
"May... may I ask you something?"
She glanced over at him. "I guess."
"How... how were you captured?"
She closed her eyes.
'Sir, are you *nuts*?'
'Is that anyway to speak to a commanding officer?'
"I'm sorry," he apologised again.
"No... no. It's okay."
"I should have known better than to ask questions. My curiosity..."
"It's okay."
'They haven't seen us yet, Jack.'
'But they will see us.'
'Not necessarily, O'Neill.'
'For crying out loud, that's not a risk I'm about to take!'
She sighed, staring at the wall. "We... there were... the Jaffa..."
'Sir, if they realise one of us is here, they are going to know the rest of us are here. They're not stupid. They know SG teams have more than one member.'
'They won't know it's an SG team. They won't know it's me.'
'Jack, how do you intend on distracting them without them realising you're from Earth?'
'Daniel, it's either this or wait until one of the villagers blows our cover.'
'Sir...'
'Carter?'
'There are too many of them and too many risks in your plan. If something goes wrong...'
'It won't go wrong.'
'I believe you are incorrect, O'Neill.'
'Well thank you, Mr. Positive.'
'Sir...'
'*Major*'
"Our luck just ran out," she said eventually. "A bad call, some bad luck, too many Jaffa..."
She sighed, turning away from him.
Jochen nodded, realising he'd pushed it too far.
'Sir, this is suicide.'
'Do you have a better plan?'
'We wait.'
'That's not a plan.'
'Sir...'
'It's settled then. Daniel, you dial up as soon as the path's clear.'
'What about you, Jack?'
'What *about* me?'
'I believe Daniel Jackson means how will you return, O'Neill?'
'That's irrelevant.'
'No, it's not...'
'You have your orders, Major. Now follow them.'
Jacob. The voice jerked her out of her memory.
She looked up as the older Tok'ra male, Pernon spoke up.
"What?" Her Dad sounded annoyed. Not surprising considering how many times O'Neill had asked him 'how long still?'. He was such a child sometimes...
We are nearing Genda.
"I know." Jacob sighed.
A feeling of dread and foreboding settled over her.
We will not have time soon, when we approach the Goa'uld region. Pernon continued.
Jacob stood up slowly.
"Jack... Sam." Noise died away and all she was aware of was her father's lips, forming the words that she never wanted to hear. "We have to talk about..."
"No we don't," O'Neill stopped him, his voice jarring in the awkward silence.
Unfortunately we do, Colonel. It is important. We have to discuss the areas best to target.
They fell silent, and Sam was happy he was hidden from her view.
"The factory," O'Neill said curtly.
You are familiar with the factory?
"Yes."
She felt more than saw them turn to her.
Major Carter.
She didn't answer.
You are familiar with the Palace.
Silence.
Will you please assist Larya and Yalman in their mission?
"Sam... please." Jacob's voice broke the silence. "Please."
Flames.
Marching. Cold floors.
Echoes.
Defilement.
Slowly her head dipped. She was betraying herself. "Yes."
~10~
Worrying will not achieve anything.
Jacob sighed, acknowledging the truth in Selmak's words. That didn't mean that he could just *stop* worrying though. He sat back in his chair, silently watching as his daughter huddled against the bulkhead, wishing he wasn't doing this to her.
You are not doing it to her, Jacob. It is the Goa'uld.
Jacob glared with his mind at Selmak, and she respected his irritation enough to keep quiet.
He sighed again, his eyes shifting over to Jack. And the worry in him grew.
Jacob. he looked up to see Pernon standing next to him. Jacob, I know that you are fond of the Tau'ri, and that Samantha is your daughter, but... Perhaps a memory recall device would be more effective and a lot safer to ourselves as well as the humans.
"No." Jacob shook his head. "No. I won't make them witness it all over again. And I won't let everyone else see what they don't want them to see."
Pernon dipped his head in acknowledgement, and then hesitated. Jacob... they are not responding. If they are like this when we land-
"They won't be. I know them, Pernon. I know that they're both strong and-"
You knew them, Jacob. You said yourself that they have both changed much since their imprisonment.
Jacob scowled, and realised that some of the worry burning in him was due to Pernon's argument. "Just because they're not talking doesn't mean that-"
Look at them. Pernon hissed.
They are suffering. Selmak pushed Jacob out of the way. Had you been through what they have been through I doubt you would behave differently.
I do not condemn them for acting as they are, Selmak. I am pointing out that in their unresponsive states they could endanger the entire mission.
"They said they'd help," Jacob snapped. "They said they would. They have too much of a sense of duty in them to be able to just let their own personal fears win. You watch, Pernon. I don't doubt either of them."
And as the words passed over his lips, and his eyes traveled over the two people, each huddling silently and reclusively in their respective corners, he couldn't help but wonder if he was putting his hope on the wrong people.
* * *
MISSION BRIEFING
MISSION: GENDA
MISSION OBJECTIVES:
1) Assist Tok'ra
2) Procure prototypes
3) Terminate Goa'uld
4) Destroy Facility
MISSION DEPARTURE: 1054 hours 2/18/06
SG TEAM: NO ASSIGNED TEAM.
PERSONS PRESENT: COLONEL JONATHAN 'JACK' O'NEILL
MAJOR SAMANTHA CARTER
* * *
"Ready?" Jacob whispered, his voice harsh and grating against the still night air.
"Ready." Jochen nodded. By the light of the red moons shining down on them, Sam could see the gleam of her bright teeth as Larya grinned in agreement.
They looked at Sam.
She looked down at the red grains of sand already sticking to the palms of her hands from when she had crawled out of the ship and to the cover of the small dune.
"Okay. Sam, you go with Yalman and Larya. Yalman, you know what the MO is. Sam, you show them how to get to all the places he needs to get, okay?"
Sam continued to stare at the sands.
Jacob sighed and turned to Pernon and O'Neill. "You're with me. We'll take out the factory."
"What about the Goa'uld?" Larya hissed, stopping Jacob.
"When the Facility blows we should get him in the blast." Jacob dismissed it.
Sam looked up. Not if this was your usual smarmy-assed Goa'uld. Those things had more resilience against death than a cat had against a bath.
"However, if you do come across him then you can take him out."
Sam shuddered.
"The cosmic grape vine indicates that our last raid here caused an upheaval in the power ladder, so the Goa'uld in charge is a new one. We don't know much about him," Jacob continued. "Is that all?"
Yalman and Larya looked at each other, glanced at Sam, and then nodded.
"Okay then. Let's go."
Silently the four Tok'ra melted towards the dark shadows of the imposing stone walls. Sam hesitated for a fraction of a second. This place. She shuddered, and stepped backwards. And then she realised that O'Neill hadn't moved either. He was standing a little in front of her, gazing at the wall with an indescribable expression on his face.
She stiffened her shoulders and stood up. Determinedly she walked towards the wall. She wouldn't let O'Neill beat her.
Behind her she heard the sand shuffle as he jogged to catch up. Wordlessly, she ran ahead to the Tok'ra.
* * *
It was the smell that got him. Not so much the scenery, the sounds or even the feeling of being imprisoned again. It was the smell.
He gagged, desperately pulling himself upright and trying to hide his sudden fear from his companions.
"You okay, Jack?"
He nodded, not raising his eyes to Jacob.
This was the place where it had all happened. Over a year of his life, wasted here. Viciously he stuffed all the feelings, all the emotions threatening to overpower him into a small, hidden corner of himself. He *wouldn't* let this place beat him.
"Lead on, McDuff." Jacob stepped back.
Jack eyed the empty corridor warily.
Where were the patrols? There were always patrols going past, either guarding or heading somewhere with purpose. Either way, the silence was almost more frightening than facing the guards themselves.
"The packing rooms, Jack. We want to go where the transport rings are," Jacob whispered.
Pernon glared at Jacob, and Jack saw the look. Pernon didn't think he could do it. Pernon thought the Goa'uld had beaten him.
Jack straightened his shoulders. Silently he set off, Zat gun at the ready while he crept along the shadows cast by the flickering torches. It was something he'd never quite figured out. Why, with all the technology possessed by the Goa'uld, this one insisted on using burning torches for light he still couldn't work out. He sniffed, and again the scent entered his nostrils, clogging his mind. But he fought it.
He was stronger than the Goa'uld.
* * *
The smell permeating the corridors made her feel sick, and she marveled that anyone could have survived for more than a year.
Larya remained silent as she followed behind the blond woman while Jochen led them through the maze of dark and stinking tunnels, only the light of the burning torches glinting off the gold walls guided them.
"Is this the way to the lines?" Larya whispered, touching the woman's shoulder to get her attention.
Larya blinked and found herself lying on her back on the floor, the blond woman gazing down at her with blank, expressionless blue eyes.
"What happened?" Jochen hissed, ill-concealed anxiety carrying clearly on his voice.
"I don't know. She threw me!" The Tok'ra complained, rubbing at her head. Nicu soothed the tension in her body quickly, providing a calm that Larya was grateful too. Often in the past her temper had gotten the better of her and she had said things, done things even... But Nicu was a gentle soul, and they were well suited to one another.
"Why?" Jochen turned to the woman, concern in his eyes.
She shrank against the wall, her fair skin glowing with a red hue in the flickering light. Her eyes remained dark and downcast.
"What did you do?" Jochen turned to Larya.
"I asked her if this was the right way..."
"And she threw you?" Jochen frowned in curiosity.
It was fear, Jochen. Larya forgets the woman is returning to place of suffering... She did not expect for us to touch her shoulder. Nicu said softly, looking apologetically at the human still huddling against the wall.
Jochen nodded, understanding flooding through him. Had Major Carter not reacted in a manner similar to that when he had first rescued her? She had bitten him, her only thoughts of defense. It was understandable.
Major Carter, are we headed the right direction towards the assembly lines? Nicu asked gently.
The woman looked, nothing showing in her eyes.
"Please, Samantha, you have to help us," Jochen pleaded, advancing towards her.
She backed away, fear and terror shining in her eyes as the torch light fell upon them.
Larya sighed in frustration.
"It was a possibility," Jochen reminded her calmly. "The maps we studied before we came... we should be able to find it."
"It will take time," Larya hissed. "Time we do not have."
"We will make the time," Jochen said firmly. "Come."
Larya waited until the woman, the Tau'ri was once again between herself and Jochen, Jochen leading the way along the twisted corridor.
A war between disgust and understanding raged internally as she stared at Major Carter's back. Disgust that someone could let themselves be beaten into a submissive, fearful creature. Yet, there was understanding because she knew what the Goa'uld were capable of. Her ancestors were the Goa'uld.
* * *