As he led the two Tau'ri majors to a washing chamber, Martouf was still having difficulty believing that their world, the First World, was now under the control of an alien race. Lantash snapped deep within his mind, and reminded him that if he was having trouble comprehending it, then he should be extremely concerned with just how Samantha and her companions were going to handle living through the destruction of their world. They will adapt, he assured his soul mate, they are tenacious and resourceful.

'They will need to grieve first,' Lantash reminded him.

'Yes,' Martouf agreed. 'And it will be a long process.'

Subconsciously, Martouf carried on his conversation with his symbiote. Almost instantaneously, thoughts passed between them without the barriers of words... about how to deal with the newly arrived, whether or not they would stay with the Tok'ra, and how they would handle being near Samantha Carter on a regular basis.

"This place should come with a map," Major Davis unknowingly interrupted.

"I will show you a layout of the facility later if you would like," Martouf answered.

"That would definitely help."

Major Davis fell silent behind him, and Martouf found his attention captured again by the young woman on his right.

"You may clean up here. This bathing chamber is for our soldiers, and there are spare sets of clothing." He said, pointing out the darker colored uniforms many of his comrades seemed to prefer since Per'sus had become High Councilor. Lantash wasn't sure if the new look was political or simply a fashion statement. An odd one at that, he added.

"Thanks," Samantha said quietly as her eyes darted around the room and then at Davis and back to him.

"I'll change over there," Major Davis said suddenly as he grabbed a handful of clothing and headed to the far side of the slightly darkened room.

Martouf wondered for a moment at the awkward exchange between them before remembering that the Tau'ri sought privacy for such everyday events as washing and changing. Another difference for them to become used to while they are here, he thought.

He saw Samantha's hesitation, and went to retrieve a shirt and a pair of trousers for her from the trunk. "These may be a bit large, but they will be more comfortable than what you are wearing."

"Yeah, my uniform is pretty much soaked." She looked down at her shirt again, and it seemed obvious to him that she was reliving her recent memories.

"Did you know him well?" he asked.

"Simmons? Not as well as he would have liked."

"I am sorry he will not have the opportunity."

She chose not to say anything more, and turned away from him as she threw off her thoroughly stained jacket. As she started to pull off her undershirt, he heard a stifled, "Ouch!"

"Wait," he warned, moving quickly to inspect her back before she could finish. He found several light cuts and bruising between her shoulder blades. "The blood is dried and is pulling. Let me."

"I guess I scraped up my back more than I thought," she said.

He gathered the ruined material from the bottom and carefully pulled it up until he felt subtle resistance. "I am going to have to cut the shirt off."

"Okay."

He withdrew a sharp knife from his belt, and expertly pulled it through the flimsy fabric. When he indicated he was done, she pulled what was left of the shirt over her head. "You'll need to take off your underclothing, as well." He watched as she reached behind her back to unhook the garment, and she let it simply fall to the floor.

Martouf was somewhat surprised when she didn't immediately cover her breasts, though her back was still towards him. She is probably too exhausted to care, Lantash surmised. "Samantha, I'm going to wash the wounds so the fabric will come off. It may bleed a little bit."

"It's minor, just do it."

"It should still be covered," he insisted.

"I'm not bothering Janet," she blurted out. The forcefulness of her objection startled him.

"As you said it's minor," he replied trying to placate her. "I did not intend for you to trouble your physician. I can treat it for you."

"You're right," she consented. "You must have tended to hundreds of injuries in your lifetime."

"Too many," he said.

"I just didn't want to bother Janet. She's been through a lot."

"You have all been through a lot, Samantha."

"Yes, but she lost her daughter today, Martouf. So just drop it!"

Her outburst caught the attention of Major Davis and Martouf saw the Tau'ri look over at them from across the chamber. Just as quickly he turned away, obviously uncomfortable with Samantha's current state of undress.

He had been preparing to simply clean the wounds, when Lantash had another idea. Instead, he retrieved a healing device from a small cabinet on the wall. Fitting it to his hand, he concentrated for a moment, and let his symbiote assume control of their shared body.

"You will feel warmth as the healing device begins to work. It will only take a moment." Lantash explained, as he held the device between her shoulder blades. Within seconds, the crystal began to glow as it sprang into life. The cuts and bruises healed seamlessly before his eyes, as though they never existed.

Finished with her back he deftly moved in front of her, attending to the cut at the crown of her head before she could protest. The wound healed, he moved behind her again and inspected his work thoroughly, taking a moment to appreciate her beautifully shaped back. "Done," he told her, taking the device off his hand.

"Too bad it can't just erase the last twenty-four hours," she said grabbing a cloth next to the raised tub.

In deference to her, he moved away as she washed up, using the time to heal Major Davis' abrasions. As he used the device on the Tau'ri, he wondered how well the two knew each other, after having watched them together in the healing chamber. He also took note of the lengthy, but mostly superficial gash across Davis' chest. It was covered in a kind of clear, protective sheath. "A knife wound?" he asked, knowing it was so.

"Yes," Davis confirmed.

"What happened?" Lantash probed as he worked to heal the cut, wondering about the circumstances behind this particular attack. The edges of the wound were scrolled, indicating the use of a ritual blade used by Jaffa priests. All other wounds sustained by the Tau'ri were from staff weapons, the healers had informed him.

"I got in the way," he said flatly, and offered no additional information.

Obviously the young officer was unwilling to talk about it, so Lantash held off from further query, asking Martouf to revisit the topic at a later time. Such a wound could be significant.

When Samantha was dressed, she turned back towards him, almost looking like a tek'nal, he thought. And very much like Jolinar. He tried to bury the thought by nodding approvingly at her and wished he could spare her the immense grief and pain she would have to endure in coming days. "I am sorry," he said. "For all you have had to suffer through."

"Thanks," she said quietly as she pulled on an over tunic.

"Well, can I pass for a Tok'ra?" she asked.

"Of course," he nodded as Major Davis joined them. "Both of you."

"I don't know how well that's going to go over," she muttered, obviously unsure.

"It's not as though we had a choice," Davis said in a reassuring voice.

"Your uniforms were heavily soiled and in need of repair," he reminded her. "Why should it matter?"

"It shouldn't," she said.

As the daughter of Jacob Carter, host to Selmak, as well as being a former host to Jolinar, the Tok'ra considered her one of their own. And as all of the Tau'ri were dedicated to fighting the Goa'uld system lords, there were all in essence, Tok'ra.

Lantash didn't understand the problem.

"Didn't you say something about food?" Samantha asked.

"Of course," he said with an apologetic glance. "This way."

He would have to ask her about it later, he thought, and added it to his mental list. He allowed Martouf to take control of their body, and led them back into the tunnels.