A/N: Well, better late than never. Stupid fractured coccyx, I wonder if I'll ever sit comfortably again. How is it that such a small useless bone cause so much trouble and discomfort? On another note, does anyone know the fate of the Sam and Jack, Always and Forever Fanfiction website? I can only find it cached on the wayback machine. It's just I had a fic or two on the site that wasn't on this one because of the adult ratings. Guess I need to find a new home for them.
Chapter 35: Not in Kansas Anymore
When Sam woke again, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed. She missed her watch sorely already. Carefully, she disentangled herself from the arms of Ms. Hans, the woman needed to sleep. Sam suspected she'd stayed awake earlier, both from shock, and to watch over her while she was unconscious. Looking around at the quiet room, she saw that most of the captives were asleep or at the least resting quietly, and she tried to figure out what had wakened her. It didn't take her long to realize that the ship had dropped out of hyperspace and was decelerating rapidly. Sam wished again for her missing watch, with it, she might have been able to calculate at least roughly how far from Earth they had traveled. She had little time for useless regrets when she again heard the heavy thumping sound of boots on metal floors, and the door slid abruptly open. She hurried to gain her feet, pausing the give Ms. Hans' shoulder a little shake, but the woman was already blinking groggily and sitting up. Sam tugged urgently on her hand, even as the lead Jaffa lowered a weapon at them threateningly.
"On your feet, maggots!" he ordered. The two guards with him moved quickly into the room hauling those too slow to respond to their feet. Curtis jumped to his feet, followed by his cohorts. "I am ready to serve," he announced, frowning slightly when the Jaffa ignored him. There were a few gasps as the ship banked and everyone swayed slightly. The sound of the engines changed pitch, and Sam suspected they were landing, confirmed moments later as the ship settled with a hollow thud. The engines had barely powered down before the outer doors opened, letting in a blast of dry hot air. More armed guards waited outside. The prisoners squinted in the bright sun streaming in the door, and those closest to the opening began to murmur in disbelief. They were given little time to speculate though, as the guards began shoving the captives outside.
Sam stepped outside, looking up at Ms. Hans's gasp to see twin suns, a larger yellow one overhead, the second smaller red one closer to the horizon. Behind them, a gas giant similar to Jupiter hung low in the sky, the rings clearly visible. More guards appeared, and the shocked prisoners were shoved and herded toward an open courtyard of hard packed reddish dirt. The courtyard was surrounded on three sides by low mud daub buildings with thatch roofs. The fourth side of the courtyard looked out onto seemingly endless fields, planted in neat rows with a variety of plants. Behind them, cliffs dotted with shrubs and rock rose above the encampment, and at the top perched a golden palace, shining in the sun. A larger group of prisoners dressed in simple homespun, all looking tired and slumped and showing signs of hard labor were gathered in the hot, merciless sun. Several of the newer prisoners began to murmur in recognition, but were quickly silenced by cuffs and shoves. With quick efficiency, the new captives were sorted by gender, and Sam made note of the number of guards as the women were separated from the men. Ms. Hans was allowed to keep Sam nearby, and several of the other women formed a small protective circle.
A new man approached, shoving his way through the gathered slaves, and Sam knew that the large, imposing man was a Jaffa, and likely Sehat's first prime. Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when the man came to stand in front of the huddled prisoners. "I am Tok'nar, First Prime to her most esteemed Goddess Seshat, and head overseer of her production camps. You will address me as Overseer Tok'nar. You are property of the Goddess Seshat, and you live on her grace and goodness. If you work hard for your Goddess, you will be given food, clothing, water and shelter. If you fail to please your Goddess, and refuse to work, you will be made an example of. Those that work especially hard may earn special approval of the Goddess. The new slaves will now go with the overseers."
The Jaffa began to shove the two groups of new captives in separate directions, women toward one building, and men toward another one. Any protests were quickly silenced, and even Sam was shoved when she didn't move fast enough to please their captors. Inside, they were made to strip, and given a brief but thorough search by their Jaffa captors. Then they were met by several cowed female prisoners, who handed out bundles of nondescript clothing and simple sandals. "Sarah?" Ms. Hans asked the woman who gave them their bundles. The woman looked up startled, a brief flash of recognition hidden by quickly downcast eyes. "Don't fight, just do what they tell you," the woman whispered, covering the movement of her lips by seeming to concentrate on her task. Ms. Hans frowned, but did not argue, moving out of the way.
The outfit Sam had been given was several sizes too big for her, and she felt she was swimming in it, even after Ms. Hans helped her roll up the legs and cinch the ties as tight as they would go. The tunic hung down to her knees, and the arms that were sleeveless on the adults hung to her elbows, though one shoulder threatened to pop out of the neck making the whole top hang askew. The sandals were tied in place with long, thin strips of leather, though the soles were much too large for her feet, and Sam worried she would constantly be tripping over them.
They were ordered back out into the courtyard. The rest of the slaves had already dispersed. Tok'nar waited for them. "Men and boys will go to the fields. Women and girls will go there," he ordered pointing to a low building. "You, child, with me." The overseer turned, leaving the organization of the captives to his subordinates. For a moment, Sam was startled; she had already started to follow Ms. Hans and the rest of the women and girls. Several steps away, Tok'nar realized that she had not yet followed him. Irritated, he turned back around. "Are you deaf, child? I said with me." He carried a thick length of leather about as long as a belt, attached to a handle which he tapped against his leg impatiently and Sam moved to follow, but Ms. Hans by then had noticed. Despite Sam's silent prayers for the woman not to interfere, she seemed to have appointed herself Sam's protector.
"Sir, where are you taking her?" Ms. Hans asked, approaching them.
"That is none of your concern woman. Do as you have been told." Tok'nar said, striding away with a menacing wave of his leather thong. Ms. Hans was not to be deterred, and she hurried after them, but wisely kept out of reach, and did not touch Tok'nar.
"Please, sir, she's just a child. Can't she stay with me? I'll look out for her, see that she causes no trouble," Ms. Hans pleaded.
At that, Tok'nar stopped, turning on Ms. Hans and almost trampling Sam who had been hurrying to keep up with the man's long strides. "This child belongs to Seshat now, and will do whatever work that our queen requires, just as you will."
"But she is so young. Surely one small child can hardly be useful to one so powerful…" Ms. Hans trailed off as Tok'nar went still, watching her. As Ms. Hans ran out of words under the powerful glare, he finally spoke, but his words were directed elsewhere.
"Child, how many winters have you seen?" he demanded.
Sam blinked, and hesitated, still focused on the confrontation between Ms. Hans and Tok'nar. Truth be told, she shared Ms. Hans's feelings on being separated from the group, unsure of what Tok'nar planned. In her preoccupation, she failed to see Tok'nar's fist as it slammed towards her face, the blow knocking her off her feet. Dazed, she blinked at the clear blue sky, tasting blood from her reopened lip. Dimly, she heard Ms. Hans protesting, followed by a brief scuffle that ended with the sharp crack of leather meeting flesh and human cries of pain. Sam's head was spinning, and it took her a moment to realize that the sounds of the beating had stopped, replaced by muffled sobs. Tok'nar's shadow blocked the sun above her and Sam blinked back tears, struggling to focus. "When I ask a question, I expect an answer immediately. How many winters have you seen?"
"F-five," she stammered, barely remembering to answer with the age she appeared.
Tok'nar turned back to Ms. Hans, who was still huddled on the ground. The woman appeared severely shaken, but not badly injured. "She is old enough for the purpose I have in mind. Consider yourself fortunate that I can be merciful. Now, bother me no more woman. Unless you wish that I should make a further example of the both of you?" he asked.
"N-no," Ms. Hans answered, seeming to shrink into herself.
"Begone."
With one last look at Sam, and hugging her arms tightly about her torso, Ms. Hans shakily climbed to her feet and left.
"Get up," Tok'nar ordered. Without looking or waiting for her, he started back down the trail. Sam was left to scramble to her feet, her head still spinning. Her eye was starting to swell from the blow already, and the cumbersome nature of her footwear coupled the uneven path caused her to stumble and fall more than once. If Tok'nar even heard her difficulty however, he neither cared nor slowed his step in the least.
Finally, they reached their destination. Without preamble, he explained her assignment. "This is the well. You put this bucket on this hook and drop it into the well. Take care not to lose the bucket into the well, or I will have to beat you, and then drop you into the well after it, so you had best be able to swim. Turn the crank to bring the bucket back. Carry the bucket of water to the fields and the workhouse. You will bring water to the workers until your bucket is empty, then you will come back and fill it again. At midday, you will fill the water trough and cooking pot, and distribute the midday ration to the guards. When it is time to work, you will carry water. Do you understand?" His words were delivered in an even tone, including the threat.
Sam nodded wordlessly. Tok'nar cuffed her on the side of the head, and she caught herself against the low wall around the well, her ears ringing. "I did not hear you."
"Yes Overseer Tok'nar," she managed to say.
"The workers are in the field; see that you bring them water."
"Yes Overseer Tok'nar."
"And child?"
"Yes Overseer?"
"If I find that the workers do not have any water because you have not brought them any, I will beat you myself."
Sam suppressed a chill at the overt threat, and answered in the only way she could at the moment. "Yes Overseer Tok'nar," she said, picking up the bucket.
The wooden bucket dropped into the well with a splash, making the wooden handle spin. Sam went to work right away, turning the crank, to bring it back as she listened to the retreating footsteps of the overseer. She gave herself a slight shake, as a chill even the heat of the sun couldn't dispel settled from the memory of the look that Tok'nar had given her before he'd left. Like a hungry predator. He'd seemed disappointed that she hadn't cried when he'd struck her, but Sam had sensed that to cry would have brought only more pain. For a moment, she leaned against the wall, sickened for the child that might have been there in her place. The one Tok'nar would have taken pleasure in breaking. She remembered Teal'c once expressing regret for the atrocities he'd been forced to commit in the service of the Goa'uld. Somehow, she suspected that Tok'nar was neither forced, nor regretted any of his actions. She shivered again, the overseer easily bringing up all the feelings of helplessness she'd had to deal with since she'd agreed to take on the mission.
She suppressed it, and focused instead on turning the crank, on the sheer physical labor of drawing the filled bucket to the surface. She had to stretch to reach the laden bucket, and suspected that Tok'nar knew it would be a struggle for her. She imagined that the sadistic overlord thought she would either lose the bucket or be unable to fill it and get on with her task so he'd have an excuse to punish her. Full of water, the bucket was heavy and unwieldy, especially for her small frame and difficult to wrestle over the wall. Sam didn't relish the day spent trudging back and forth to the well in the hot sun and over the trail and fields with it either. Despite her earlier rest on the Alkesh, she was still tired from a late night at the SGC, followed by all the events leading up to her capture. Her head still ached dully as well, from the blow she'd taken, and she suspected at least a minor concussion. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice. Somehow, she suspected Tok'nar would take all too much pleasure in carrying out his threat if he found her resting. She shuddered again, and tamped it back down, surprised to feel a growing hatred for the First Prime. Looking around the clearing, she found a carved wooden ladle hanging on the frame over the well, and put it in the bucket. Resolutely, she straightened her shoulders and headed for the path back to the compound.
The sun was hot, and the rope handle quickly bit into her hands, even when she used the bottom of her overlong tunic to wrap the handle. She'd have to see if she could find some rags to pad it.
The path back to the fields wasn't hard to follow, although her task was tedious and she could already feel the strain in her back and shoulders, and no doubt would feel it in her legs later on. Sam was pleased however, that this task would put her in contact with everyone in the fields and other work areas. She could even exchange words with people, since it was expected that the workers would stop and take a water break. Most of the adults were pleased to see her coming with the water bucket, especially the newer captives, who had seen Tok'nar taking her away. Many made sympathetic noises about her face, and one cleaned it up a bit with a bit of a rag before one of the Jaffa barked at them to get back to work. Most of the new prisoners were still in shock, their worry over her the only emotion that many of them showed. The older prisoners showed little reaction but to take the dipper and drink thirstily from it when offered, turning immediately back to work, furtive looks and urgent head shakes the only response to Sam's attempts at starting conversation.
Sam finally found Ms. Hans in the long, low building that formed the bottom side of the open courtyard, the back wall of the primitive building practically leaning against the cliff wall, as if in mutual support. The workers inside the dim building were all women; the ones in the fields had all been men. The women appeared to be working with various small components, hunched as they labored over the parts, some using unfamiliar tools. Sam quickly realized that they were building Goa'uld weaponry. She suppressed her curiosity, but made note of the various components and number of guards, quickly realizing that the power modules were missing from the assembly area. She studied the other components as she offered her water dipper, making her way finally to Ms. Hans, who was seated next to an older prisoner and being shown perfunctorily what to do. Ms. Hans, after quickly checking that the closest guards were looking the other way, stopped what she was doing and took the bucket from Sam and gathered her into her arms for a tight hug, which Sam willingly returned, glad to see the woman looked well after the beating she'd taken. They broke apart quickly though, Sam grabbing up her bucket when they heard the footsteps of the guard returning on circuit of the room.
After she finished the workhouse, she went back to refill the bucket, returning to the hot field, needing to make more than one trip to ensure everyone got a drink. And then back to the workhouse, trudging back and forth along the dirt paths in the hot sun. On one circuit, a guard diverted her to fill a trough, and several slaves, all women, left the workhouse and began to set up a large cauldron at a nearby fire pit. Sam recognized Ms. Hans and another teacher. Sam was directed to also put water into the cauldron, and it took Sam many trips to fill it before she was sent back out on the water circuit. When the bell rang to signal the end of work, she was so exhausted she barely noticed at first. That was until she noticed the workers beginning to return tools and head towards a cooking fire she hadn't noticed. "Return your bucket," A Jaffa guard ordered, and Sam was too tired to do anything but obey, feeling like her thin, too large sandals were already wearing a new path. She was unsurprised to see that she was one of the last to arrive.
The prisoners had already formed into a line, and each was given a wooden bowl full of stew with watery gravy that contained a hint of meat and some limp vegetables. A piece of tough flatbread was placed on top and a wooden cup to dip up water from the recently filled trough. The newer captives followed the older slaves to a seating area with simple tables and rough benches behind the sleeping area. Men and women were kept separated. Sam took her ration automatically, and followed the woman ahead of her, but when the woman took the last seat at the table, Sam stood there blinking tiredly, her aching head making it hard to think.
She nearly dropped her food at a soft touch on her shoulder, but looked up in time to see the concerned regard of Ms. Hans. Carefully balancing her own meal, the woman gently guided Sam to another table. "Here Sam, come sit down. Let's eat," she said. Sam let the woman lead her to the table, and climbed onto the bench, but once she was sitting down, a wave of weariness seem to crash over her, and she stared stupidly at the food. A single small chunk of meat floated in greasy looking sauce, surrounded by several unappetizing and unrecognizable lumps that might have once been vegetables.
Then everything blurred, and Sam blinked as the world tilted slightly. She came back to awareness with Ms. Hans's arm securely around her. The woman was using a corner of her tunic dipped in her water mug to gently dab at Sam's face, managing to smear the dirt around more than clean it. Another woman across from them looked at them in concern, though most of the others tiredly shoveled food into empty bellies. "Sam… Sam? You need to eat," Ms. Hans was saying, as she let go of her shirt and used a wedge of her own bread to scoop up some of the stew, holding it for Sam to take a bite. Despite the unappealing look, the smell was enough for Sam's stomach, which gurgled urgently. Sam managed to sit up, pushing away the tender ministrations of her teacher, and letting training kick in. After a brief internal struggle, Sam managed to push down her weariness enough to take the piece of bread herself, and continue to eat. Ms. Hans watched the next few bites closely, but seemed satisfied and turned to her own meal.
After everyone had been given time to consume their meal, they were directed to the two remaining buildings, the men still kept separate from the women. Sleeping arrangements consisted of rough pallets arrayed on the dirt floor of the building's single long room. Sam was too tired to protest when Ms. Hans guided her to an unoccupied pallet and laid down behind her. Later, Sam was grateful for the added warmth, as the two huddled under the single thin blanket they had been provided. The twin suns had set while they ate, rapidly taking with them all of the heat. Despite her exhaustion, Sam lay awake for a long time, listening to the breathing from the sleeping bodies around her, and wondering what lay in store in the days ahead.