Just like Lantash, she thought as she glanced at Martouf. His smile let her know that he was pleased by the news. "What kind of terms?" she asked as her father released her.
Colonel O'Neill interrupted, "Wait a minute! I don't want to have to repeat all of this over and over again. Let's gather everyone up, and tell all of them at the same time."
"Yes, sir."
Ten minutes later, all of their personnel had arrived in the empty council chamber at Martouf's suggestion. Like everyone else, Sam was anxious to hear the details of their new living arrangements. Unlike everyone else, she was also worried about being around Martouf for any length of time. And Lantash's flirtatious banter had affected her deeply as well. After last night, it might be all too easy to want more than either one had given her.
"First of all," her father began. "I want to assure all of you that no one will ever insist that any of you become a host. Having said that, I don't think it's such a bad deal, either."
"Jacob" Jack cut in, clearly annoyed.
"The council has decided you can stay, and you'll be integrated as much as unblended humans can be within our society. You'll retain authority over your people, Jack. And you'll be responsible for them and their behavior as well."
"Hey, we're on the same side here."
"Yes we are," Jacob continued. "And maybe you should remind yourself of that on a daily basis. Look, this isn't going to be a cakewalk for any of us. We don't usually let in large groups of people. Especially ones who tell us in advance they will likely never volunteer to be hosts. It's going to take some time to work through the kinks." Her father stopped, and indicated for Lantash to go on.
"You will all attend vigorous upgrading and training to develop your skills to a reasonable level. You may be somewhat useful on missions where we need unblended humans as spies."
"Good to know," Jack quipped, obviously unimpressed.
"You will will also be asked to assist with the day-to-day operations of this base. Some of which are very basic but essential to our survival and yours. Is that understood?" Lantash asked.
"So long as we're not treated as slaves or servants," he agreed.
The colonel was doing well considering the circumstances, Sam thought. Especially considering who he was talking to. If he and Martouf simply just didn't get along, then he and Lantash were like predatory alpha males. One barely restrained step away from disaster. She wasn't going to like being the buffer between them.
"I assure you O'Neill, that everyone on this base contributes to basic survival needs," Lantash said.
"I am so not peeling potatoes," she heard him mutter under his breath.
"Jack," her father said. "It would be best if you assign an official liaison for any requests, complaints or negotiations."
"Major Davis, that's you."
"Yes, sir."
Sam wasn't surprised at the Colonel's choice of liaison. Though she knew more about the Tok'ra than anyone else in the SGC, clearly this was Davis' arena. Over the past week, she had also learned that he could take exceedingly complex technical information, analyze it, break it down and spoon feed it to the Joint Chiefs or anyone else for that matter. She had also lost a bet to him during the process, but the Replicators had rudely interrupted his collecting the prize. She idly wondered if he would ever mention it again.
"Carter, you'll continue as second-in-command."
"Yes, sir."
"Sam, we'll also do some lessons with the hand and healing devices. I know you have some experience with them already, but it really is important." Her father explained. "Okay?"
She nodded her response to her father, hoping that maybe later she could talk him out of learning how to use the Goa'uld weapon which was designed not only to kill, but to torture as well. Besides, learning either of the devices would further set her apart from her teammates, and that didn't feel right either. Every time she remembered the look Daniel had given her after killing Seth on Earth last year, she felt like a monster. Or maybe it just made her feel more like a Tok'ra. She wasn't sure.
They were all going to go through more physical training, Tok'ra history, tactics, infiltration techniques and apparently language lessons as well. Sam silently wondered if she would ever read a book in English again. Not likely, she sighed and tried to put it out of her mind. It was better if she didn't think about things like that.
"There is one more thing," Lantash cautioned. "You will all be required to formally pledge a vow of service to our cause before you will be entrusted to even the most basic information. If any of you go back on your word to us, you will be branded a traitor, hunted down and executed."
"That seems a little harsh," Janet grumbled.
"It's no different during wartime on Earth," One of the marines chimed in, surprising nearly everyone in the room.
"Point taken," Janet said. Although Sam could see she wasn't entirely convinced.
"Look, I won't force anyone to stay here." The Colonel stood up and began to pace as he spoke to the rag-tag group. "If there is anywhere else anyone really wants to go, we'll consider it. Either individually or as a group. But for now, staying here is our best bet and first thing's first. Today, our priority is finding SG's Two, Nine and Thirteen and bringing them back here, safe and sound. Everyone got that?"
He received a half-hearted, "Yes sir" in return.
"Excuse me? I didn't quite hear you."
As she stood up, doing her best to inspire enthusiasm that she certainly didn't feel, she saw the others rise to their feet. As loud as she could muster, she gave Colonel O'Neill what he was waiting for, "Sir, yes, sir!"
This time, everyone save her father and Lantash, responded in kind. O'Neill assigned them into three units, and they began to plan strategy for the search of their missing personnel. When the meeting finally broke up, Sam felt a tiny bit better about how things were going to work with the Tok'ra. Selmak had found seven volunteers to help them, and Colonel O'Neill had accepted.
It was a place to start.
