A/N: Here's the next part! Enjoy!
Jacob's declaration was met momentarily by silence, broken only by his own labored breathing.
"Don't worry about me," Sam told her father, taking his head into her lap. "How are you doing?"
"I'm sick," he confessed.
"But I thought it hadn't affected any of the Goa'uld, just their Jaffa?" Daniel asked. There are many differences between the Tok'ra and the Goa'uld, but biology isn't one of them. If it didn't affect one, it wouldn't affect the other, right?
"It doesn't affect the Goa'uld," Jacob confirmed, not clearing up anything. "Not yet anyway."
"Dad, that doesn't seem possible." She shook her head, trying to understand how these nanites worked.
"They're programmed," he said in his defense. "They won't affect any Goa'uld until Olokun wants them to. The Goa'uld share enough of their genetic memory—which is different from that of the Tok'ra—for the nanites to tell the difference by DNA."
"So the nanites are programmed not to affect the Goa'uld, but anyone else with naquadah in their blood is fair game." Sam feared this was the case, because it meant it would only be a matter of time before she started showing symptoms. "I just need to know how long it's been since you were infected dad, then I want you to rest."
"Probably four days," he said. "But I didn't start showing symptoms until about forty-eight hours later. That's when we were caught. Selmak is fighting it, but can only do so much. It's only a matter of time."
"Don't give up yet, Jacob," the Colonel warned. "We've been in worse situations. You too in fact. Which reminds me, we've got to stop meeting like this."
"Funny, Jack," Jacob responded, with a hint of a smile. Jack knew if Jacob was still humoring him that he wasn't at death's door yet.
"We'll figure something out, Dad." She didn't meet his eyes as she said it though, instead looking to the Colonel. He nodded. They would get out of this.
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While the Colonel paced the cell like a caged tiger, and Carter comforted her father, Daniel tried to help Janet get comfortable. They had all been stripped of their vests and weapons, and Janet of her pack, so all he had to work with was the clothing on his person. Taking off his jacket he ripped the sleeves from his black t-shirt to use as bandages.
Janet pushed herself into a sitting position so she could help. She had treated similar wounds countless times, but never on herself, and never with so few supplies. Gritting her teeth she peeled back her left pant leg and rolled it over her knee. The wound wasn't pretty. The heat from the blast had melted some of the fabric of her pant leg into the skin, and cauterized the more directly hit area. The rest was still bleeding rather heavily though, and Daniel wrapped the makeshift bandages tightly around this area per the Doc's instructions.
"Can you hurry up!" Janet practically hissed through her clenched teeth while Daniel wrapped and tightened.
"Almost done," he promised. "Now you will undoubtedly be able to empathize with your patients." He couldn't help a hint of a smile, but she wasn't amused.
"I imagine it feels different when there are drugs involved," she snapped as he finished, and nodded his head in agreement. It was far from a sterile procedure and she knew infection was almost guaranteed, but it was the best they could do.
Daniel had just rolled the pant leg back down over the 'bandages' and taken a seat next to Janet when the Jaffa guards returned.
The doors opened to show Olorun's first prime flanked by four guards. The prime held a staff weapon, and the other four were each poised with a zat. All wore only light armor and were helmetless, with unfamiliar symbols tattooed on their foreheads. The symbol was reminiscent of a bird and Daniel hypothesized it was one of Olorun's most likely methods of representing his position as the sky-god pictorially. Not to mention a much more threatening symbol than, say, a cloud.
While Daniel was contemplating art the Colonel's eyes turned to assess them. He looked for weaknesses or a chance to escape. There was nothing obvious. But the guard on the far left had a thin sheen of sweat on his face, and his cheeks were flushed. He was attempting to look as fierce as the others but was being betrayed by unmistakable physical signs of illness.
"We have come for Major Carter," the prime sneered, turning his gaze to where she sat cradling her father. She was careful and hid any reaction she might have to his statement.
"Major Carter?" the Colonel questioned nonchalantly, sauntering toward the front of the cell. He shook his head. "Never met him. You must have the wrong people."
"There is no mistake." The prime looked quite confident about this. "SG-1"—he did his best to look disgusted while he said it—"is well known among the system lords, my lord Olorun included." He walked into the cell towards her while the other Jaffa trained their zats on her teammates to prevent anyone from trying to take advantage of his more vulnerable position. Certain that he was in no danger, he walked right up to her.
Unfortunately, the prime was right. With four zats trained on them, and two injured (Jacob wasn't exactly injured but wouldn't be going anywhere under his own power for a while), he and Daniel didn't stand much of a chance. Even if Daniel's head had stopped spinning from his previous zat blast, they would have been down before either could make it halfway to the door.
So Jack bit his tongue and clenched his fists to keep from making a move when Olorun's first prime tipped Carter's chin up to look at her fully. She glared up at him defiantly as he looked her over.
"Samantha, I believe it is?" He didn't expect a response and continued. "You are known not only for your unusual technical expertise, especially for a woman…but also for your beauty. Perhaps when my lord is done with you, he will allow me to play as well." His insinuation was clear, and she spit in his face for it. The backhand across her face was not a surprise, but it hurt anyway. He wiped the blood from her lower lip and then licked it from his own thumb before meeting her eyes again. "If there is anything recognizable left to play with when my god is done." With that he turned and headed back to the front of the cell. Then he paused, and turned. She still sat with her father's head in her lap, glaring at him with daggers in her eyes from the back of the cell.
"Coming?" She knew he wanted action, not an answer, and slipped out from underneath her father. The Colonel gave her his jacket, which she rolled up and slipped under her father's head. Walking fearlessly up to the Jaffa she met the Colonel's eyes and silently told him not to fight this. At this point there was nothing he could do. Then she met the prime's eyes defiantly, and stifled the urge to shiver. There was no soul in those eyes.
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The dimly lit corridors blurred together after a while as Sam was marched towards what she could only assume would be Olorun's 'throne room.' She had tried to keep track of the route in case she somehow escaped to go back for her friends, but got lost after what had to have been the sixth left turn. There was nothing distinctive about any of the hallways and it felt like they were going in circles. The hallways were barren, and only one or two Jaffa were passed during the entire journey.
Finally they came to a door. The prime shielded the keypad with his body as he punched in the combination, and then stepped back as it opened before leading the group in.
The throne room was larger than she had expected, but as gold encrusted as any Goa'uld chamber. The left wall was open to space, with only a force-field of some sort between them and an incredible view of the planet below.
The Jaffa pushed her to her knees in front of where Olorun sat on the throne that was the centerpiece of the room. He was darkly colored and shirtless, wearing baggy pants that featured a tropical pattern in bright blues, greens and yellows. His head was shaved clean and covered with a thin beaded headdress. It reminded Sam a bit of a yarmulke, but only it the placement and shape of its centerpiece. The strands of brightly colored beads that fell from its edge to his shoulders quietly clinked together as he stood and approached her.
At a nod two of the Jaffa and the prime stepped back. The two remaining guards stayed with her, with their hands on her shoulders so she remained kneeling 'respectfully' before their god.
"I see she gave you trouble, Rotak," Olorun remarked to his first prime at the sight of her bloody lip.
"She has spirit, lord, and was less than willing to come to you."
"It does not matter." Olorun paused in front of her. "Your coming to me is a gift I tend to make use of. I would like to make a deal with you, Major Carter," Olorun began.
Sam practically snorted. "What kind of deal do you think I would make with a Goa'uld?" she spat at him.
"The kind you cannot refuse," he answered without pause. "I believe you are aware of the illness engineered by my brother, Olokun, that is plaguing my people." As this was not a conversation he didn't wait for an answer. "I am aware that it is an illness of technological making, not of biological. I want you to find the cure."
"And how exactly do you expect me to do that?" she questioned skeptically.
"I will make whatever resources I have available to you in one of the cargo bays. You will work until you find a cure, or die.""Why would I do this for you?" So far, this wasn't sounding like much of a deal.
"If you do not," he threatened, "your friends and father will die slow, painful deaths in front of your eyes."
"A small price to pay for the guaranteed death of the Goa'uld and their Jaffa," she bluffed. He didn't buy it.
"If you succeed, I will allow you all to go free." Olorun dangled this in front of her for a moment before summarizing. "You cannot refuse. If you do, your father will be the first to die."
"How do I know you will keep your end of the bargain?" She asked the question already knowing the answer, but wanting to stall the decision a moment more.
"You cannot. But if you choose not to attempt a cure, death is a guarantee. So really, there is no choice." He paused, but only momentarily. "Will you do it?"
"Yes." What else could she say?
I hope you liked it and please review. And here's a question to think about for next time: assuming Olorun has better things to do than but their cell and listen to SG-1 as they talk, how does he know Selmak's host is Sam's father? Remember its early fourth season, and Jacob hasn't been a Tok'ra for very long. Hmmm. Something fishy here? Tell me what you think!