Disclaimer: (since I have to have one, sadly...) I own nothing except for a few random characters that I have created myself. Everything and everyone else belongs to whoever they belong to, now copyright infringement intended.

A/N: I am SOO sorry for not getting this finished sooner. I was busy with life (called vacation), and then I had no internet, and got kinda sick and, well, you get the idea. Anyway, suffice it to say, I was busy as 'Sam when she's supposed to be on leave' for the last week. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy it :)

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Chapter 5: The Betrayal

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Jea'fron was intrigued by Major Samantha Carter of the Tau'ri, once host to Jolinar of Malkshur, daughter of Jacob Carter, current host to Selmak. He shook his head, flipping the sandy blonde bangs out of his hazel eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he thought about the blonde major.

She had been nothing like he had expected her to be from the way his master had spoken of her; instead of being a weak, sniveling damsel that one was always supposed to shelter and protect, it had been her that had attempted to avenge the wrongs done to her father – she had fought her captors. This was something that Jea'fron admired, discarding the fact that the one she had attempted to kill had been Belenus, his master.

And this posed a second, much more unsettling issue – Belenus, his master. Jea'fron narrowed his eyes, breathing shallowly. He knew that he could be executed for even harboring the thoughts that now ran through his head, but he was unable to stem the tide.

"Always respect women," his mother had instructed him upon learning that he had struck his younger sister for some forgotten offense. "It doesn't matter what they may have done," she said sternly, holding his shoulders tightly, "You always, alwaysrespect women and treat them kindly and fairly. You should not respect any man that treats women poorly. Do you understand, my son?"

"Yes mother," Jea'fron had replied, lowering his eyes in sincere apology for his wrong.

And ever since that day, the young Jaffa had abided by his mother's words, learning to treat every woman with which he had come into contact with kindness and respect and honor. And he had avoided and detested the men that treated women badly.

And here was his own master, his god, torturing and terrorizing this young woman. Jea'fron shivered slightly, his mind and spirit battling. He suddenly stilled his nervous movements as the sound of two Jaffa marching up the corridor drew his attention.

Jea'fron triggered the door to the lab, opening it for the two men that appeared around the corner, carrying a limp Samantha between them. A fine trickle of blood dribbled down from above her ear.

"What happened?" Jea'fron asked red-headed, brown eyed Hak'tien and green eyed Vint'al, whose mop of jet black hair hung in a mess, as the two dropped their burden on the stone floor.

Hak'tien stood, spinning to face Jea'fron. "The little bitch kicked me in the nose," he said, his voice sounding thick and rather nasal as blood continued to sheet from his clearly broken nose.

"That doesn't explain how she ended up unconscious," Jea'fron pointed out.

Vint'al snorted. "Oh yeah, you and your courtesy for woman," he scoffed, laughed scornfully. "Trying to protect the lab rat? Well, the little slut decided to try to get away. Actually managed to break free of our hold," he informed Jea'fron, a dangerous gleam entering his eye. With a sudden move, the dark haired Jaffa kicked the unconscious Sam viciously in the ribs.

"Hey!" barked Jea'fron. "You know Lord Belenus instructed her to be intact and whole," he added quickly, his tone savage as his anger rose.

Vint'al shrugged, saying innocently, "I'll just say it happened when I slammed her against the wall to keep her from escaping."

"I take it that's how her head got split open too?" sighed Jea'fron, his voice ripe with displeasure.

Hak'tien laughed. "You got that right," he said, his voice dark with some strange emotion.

"I'll take it from here," Jea'fron said abruptly, straightening and turning away from watching the helpless woman on the floor, who curled into the fetal position to protect her ribs, to face the other two. "Go collect the Tok'ra," he instructed.

The two Jaffa grumbled, obviously displeased with the younger man dismissing them, but complied, retreating out of the room. Jea'fron closed the door, glancing quickly out into the hallway to ensure that there was no one coming before sliding the metal shut.

With a few quick movements, Jea'fron was kneeling beside Sam, one hand lifting the hair that was beginning to mat from the blood trickling from the jagged cut in her scalp.

She jerked, her eyes snapping open. Before he could react, Jea'fron felt a stabbing pain shoot up from his gut, doubling over from the force of a booted foot slamming into his stomach. He gasped for breath, looking up in time to see Samantha darting away from him, pulling herself to her feet, her blue eyes cold and merciless as they regarded him with wary anger.

"What do you want from me?" she asked sharply, sinking down into a threatening crouch, her hands held at her sides in a threatening position.

Jea'fron shook his head mutely, his lungs still not wanting to cooperate, looking up at the woman standing above him, attempting to tell her that this wasn't what he had wanted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he finally managed to wheeze out, coughing slightly as he did.

Samantha cocked her head, regarding him. "Then what were you doing?" she asked, her tone only minimally softer.

"I was just checking to see the extent of your head injury," Jea'fron informed her. "Also, how are your ribs?"

A strange look crossed Sam's face. "Uh…" she stammered, then suddenly winced, moving an arm to cradle her left side. "What happened?" she asked, her voice once again biting.

Jea'fron smiled slightly, realizing that this woman was more of a warrior than he had originally thought – it took a great warrior to not even realize that he was injured until it was pointed out. Jea'fron nodded, showing his respect for the woman glaring down at him.

"I witnessed a fellow Jaffa kicking you," Jea'fron admitted, bowing his head. "I am sorry I was not able to stop the blow from landing."

"Uh…" Sam stammered again, obviously taken aback by the strange attitude of this young Jaffa. "You would have tried to?" she asked, her incredulity showing through.

Jea'fron nodded. "Of course," he said. He opened his mouth to say something else when he heard the telltale tramping of boots coming up the hallway.

With a sudden burst of energy, Jea'fron stood, moving swiftly to his position by the door. He shot a warning look at Samantha, hoping that she would be able to interpret his message.

Sam caught the sharp look that the sandy haired Jaffa sent her way, nodding once to show that she understood that she was to not show any connection with him. Then, the door to the lab slid open, the two Jaffa that had escorted her carrying the bound form of her father, a sack placed over his head.

She took a swift, shallow breath, wincing as her ribs protested. In the rush of adrenaline that had followed her awakening to see the hazel eyed Jaffa leaning over her, Sam hadn't even registered the fact that she had been injured; at least, not until the man asked her about it pointedly.

To her surprise, she had seen something akin to respect flicker through the young man's eyes as she had instinctively moved an arm to support her clearly cracked ribs. Sam closed her eyes, attempting to dispel the thoughts that were currently only serving to give her a pounding headache on top of her already throbbing skull from the blow she had received to the head.

The two Jaffa carrying Jacob shoved him into a chai, wrenching his hands behind him and the back of the chair. The clinking of metal alerted Sam to the chains being secured around his wrists, and she grimaced. Her father being chained to the chair would make everything that much more difficult when it came time for them to escape.

Their task finished, the two Jaffa that had brought her to the lab looked up, staring at her maliciously. She stared back at them defiantly, rising up to stand at her full height. The Jaffa with black hair that stuck up in tufts and spikes looked at the other one, and they both smirked.

A chill raced up Carter's spine as she realized that whatever it was they had decided, it did not bode well for her. She shifted again, readying herself for an attack.

"Hey, what are you two doing?" the hazel eyed Jaffa by the door called out.

"Stay out of this Jea'fron," the ginger snapped, his eyes gleaming as his nose began to bleed again. "We just have to make sure she doesn't escape again," he growled.

Sam lashed out at the nearest Jaffa, the one with the black hair, slamming her foot into his knee. He stumbled with a small cry, but she hadn't gotten the proper leverage on her kick to shatter his kneecap. She spun to drive the other Jaffa back, but she had forgotten about her busted ribs.

They gave an angry burst of pain, sending her gasping and stumbling to the side as she lost control of her momentum. The red-haired man grabbed her, spinning her and wrenching both her arms behind her back, pulling them up until her shoulders shrieked with pain.

She hung in his arms, standing on her toes to ease some of the pressure on both her shoulders and her ribs. The man whose knee she had kicked stalked up, slamming his clenched fist into her stomach.

Sam recoiled, forced back by the power of the blow. His other fist connected with her jaw, causing her teeth to clack together and her head to whip to the side. He had just kneed her in the stomach, driving the sharp bone up against her broken ribs, when the Jaffa named Jea'fron stepped forward.

"Vint'al, that's enough," he said indignantly, addressing them man hitting her. "Stop it."

Carter was released, shoved forward as she was. She fell to the floor, breaking the fall with her arms so as to not exacerbate her injuries. Vint'al reached down and grabbed her by the collar, hauling her to her feet. She was forced into a chair much like her father's, her arms pulled behind her and metal cuffs being fastened around them as well.

She slumped against the back of the chair, her jaw aching and her ribs sending shooting stabs of pain throughout her torso whenever she drew breath. Her head pounded and the cut above her ear stung painfully. Her stomach roiled, unhappy with the harsh treatment she had received.

While her body rested, her mind was working furiously. She had been surprised when the Jaffa named Jea'fron had stopped her beating. In a strange way, he almost reminded her of Teal'c who had a strong sense of justice, loyalty, and fairness. She had met few other Jaffa like him, but as she thought about it, she realized that there were surely others like him in the galaxy. Sam just hoped Jea'fron was one of them.

Vint'al and the other Jaffa had just stood up, moving away from her, when the door slid open yet again. Belenus stalked in, the loose robe that he wore over his black tunic billowing as he moved with sharp, precise steps. His eyes rested briefly on Sam, before they snapped to the Jaffa.

"Hak'tien, tell me what happened," the Goa'uld ordered. "I commanded that she not be harmed."

"I am sorry, my lord," the red head said, bowing his head in humble supplication. "She attempted to escape from us. Her injuries are a result of us stopping her." His eyes flickered up to Jea'fron, who was still standing by the door, almost as if he was daring the young Jaffa to contradict his story. Jea'fron's sense of loyalty to his own kind, however, seemed to be stronger than the urge to reveal the truth behind her injuries; he said nothing.

"I see," Belenus mused, his eyes traveling around the room. He sighed, settling himself on a third chair; one, Sam couldn't help but notice, was much more comfortable than the ones that she and her father were strapped to.

"Take off his hood," Belenus said casually, flicking a hand toward Jacob. Hak'tien, now the picture of submission, moved over and jerked off the rough sack that had been covering Jacob's head.

The older man blinked, raising his head lucidly. He attempted to focus on his surroundings, but his eyes kept glazing over. After only a few seconds, his head sunk down until his chin rested on his chest.

"What's wrong with him?" Carter asked, her tone biting. Belenus merely smiled coyly at her.

"You'll find out," he answered cryptically. "Revive him," Belenus ordered Vint'al.

The Jaffa crossed the floor, stopping by a counter on the far side of the lab. He picked up a needle, pressing down on the syringe. A thing stream of clear liquid spurted from the end, and the young man crossed the room, kneeling beside Jacob. Vint'al inserted the shining needle into Jacob's arm, injecting the Tok'ra with the solution in the tube.

Withdrawing the needle quickly, Vint'al stood, returning the used syringe to the counter. Jacob slowly began to come awake, his eyes focusing a little bit better than the previous moment, his breathing a little deeper and a lot less labored.

Sam watched her father with a worried fascination. The remnants of his injuries shone through the tears in his clothes as shiny new skin and the pink tint to freshly repaired tissue. Sam could only assume that Belenus had a sarcophagus and had used it on him, healing the man and the Tok'ra.

And yet, this worried Sam. When she had first seen him, it had appeared that the Goa'uld had refrained from healing her father at all. And yet now, only after bringing Sam into the mix and taking her hair and blood, had Belenus healed Jacob/Selmak. The whole incident in the lab the previous time continued to bother Sam as well. She felt as if she was missing something, as if she should be putting something together. There was a niggling doubt in the back of her mind, an unspoken fear that continued to consume her.

Jacob had only just picked his head up again, his eyes darting around in haste, when Sam heard something echoing down the hallway outside of the lab. She smiled, looking up and into Belenus' fair features. That sound could only mean one thing: a rescue team had come from the SGC. For, although the sound of P90s firing was distinct, and Sam would know it anywhere.

The door slid open yet again. Jea'fron moved to block the opening, but moved aside almost immediately, admitting an older, graying Jaffa.

"My lord," he said, addressing Belenus and kneeling, "The Tau'ri have mounted an attack. We are holding them at bay, but they managed to catch us off guard and have already managed to take out a significant number of the troops." The man looked up from his kneeling position. "What does my lord command?" he queried.

Belenus, his face draining of blood, stood quickly. He glanced at Sam and then her father, then back to the door. The sound of fighting drew closer, and Belenus strode out of the room, calling orders over his shoulder.

"Vint'al, Hak'tien, guard the prisoners. Ubra'fen and Jea'fron attend me," he snapped, striding through the door. The old man and Jea'fron left hurriedly, the younger Jaffa glancing back, a crease between his eyebrows. Sam wasn't entirely sure what to make of her last glimpse of the sandy haired Jaffa, and for some reason, hoped it would not be her last.

Vint'al and Hak'tien took up places by the door, their bodies tense as they fingered the Zat'nik'tels that were strapped to their right legs. They shifted nervously as the din of weapons fire reseeded into a dull throb.

They waited in a tense silence, the feeling of calm being that of the calm before the hurricane. Carter twisted her hands, trying to find some way to break out of the restraints but, like the ones that had bolted her to the table; she could find nothing with which to trigger the cuffs to open.

The door slid open nearly silently. Sam looked up, her eyes flashing as she expected to see Belenus. Instead, Carter watched as Jea'fron swept into the room, his eyes flickering between her and her father and the two guards.

"Lord Belenus instructed that I return for the prisoners and instruct you two to join the battle front," he said, his voice louder than normal. Hak'tien and Vint'al hesitated, and Jea'fron raised his eyebrows. "Do you want to be the one to explain why he was not able to leave this base because you would not abide by his commands? I thought not," he added as he saw Hak'tien shift nervously.

"Now go," Jea'fron urged, watching the two nearly run from the room beofre hurrying to kneel behind Sam's chair. She watched as the other two retreated from the lab, drawing their weapons as their metal-clad feet slammed into the ground.

"We must hurry," Jea'fron whispered in her ear as he unclasped the metal cuffs binding Sam to the stool. He helped her upright, then hurried to free her father as well.

As soon as the chains fell away from her father's wrists, Carter debated about rendering the Jaffa unconscious. She tensed, preparing to deliver the stunning blow to his head when he spoke.

"I can bring you to where your other friends are being held," he said hurriedly.

"And why should I trust you?" Sam snapped.

Jea'fron's eyes were wide as he looked up at her, lifting one of Jacob's arms around his shoulder. "Because you're going to have to," he said innocently. "If you don't, you're not going to be able to make it to the lab until after they have already freed your other friends, which will put you behind them. Add that to the fact that you don't know your way around the base, and you'll be in for a spot of bother. Plus, you run the very probable risk of being found and captured again. However, if I am with you, then I can always say I am escorting you." He shrugged. "Either way, we have to hurry."

Carter thought about it, weighing the risks and benefits. In truth, she knew that the others would come to find her, but her only worry was exactly how long that was going to take. She glanced at her father, who was practically being held upright by the Jaffa, and in that instant, she decided what she had to do.

"Give me your zat," Sam instructed. When the young Jaffa hesitated, Sam said, "If you want me to trust you, then trust me. Besides, how will you fight if you are carrying my father?"

Reluctantly, Jea'fron nodded, realizing the wisdom in her statement, and unhooking the zat and tossing it to the Tau'ri woman. She caught it and armed it before turning to the door.

"Just don't get seen with it. Remember, I'm supposed to be transporting two prisoners," he called out after her.

He followed her out of the lab, supporting the majority of the Tok'ra's weight. He had one arm underneath the older man's arms, lifting him up, his left hand holding Jacob's wrist. The drugged Tok'ra could only partially support his weight and he stumbled along, barely able to move his feet to keep up with his daughter and the Jaffa aiding him.

Sam was in the front, the Zat that she held hidden between her arm and torso as she clutched her chest. If any Jaffa came around a corner, they would find themselves face to face with an irate and vengeful woman; Major Samantha Carter was thoroughly pissed, tired, and in pain – not a good combination.

For Sam, every step was a battle in and of itself. Every time either of her feet took her weight, her ribs shrieked in pain, and her headache intensified. She was still nauseous, courtesy of Vint'al, and every now and then, the world tilted around her crazily.

They were nearing a fork of the passage that Sam thought she remembered, when a sudden smashing sound echoed through the corridor, quickly followed by the fain thumping sound of a body hitting the floor. Sam whirled, pulling the Zat out of its hiding place and training unerringly at the lone figure standing behind her.

"Sam?" the figure asked, stepping forward into the light shed by a gleaming light source.

"Dad? Oh thank goodness," she answered, relief washing over her as she closed the distance between them and wrapping him in a hug, ignoring the complaint of her ribs. "I was afraid that whatever they had given you was permanent."

"No," Jacob told her gently. "I was gaining my strength while waiting for the opportune moment to take the Jaffa out," he explained.

"He was helping us," Sam told him. Jacob looked mildly surprised, but then shrugged.

"Oops," he said matter-of-factly. "Oh well," he snorted.

"Let's go," Sam said urgently, realizing that she couldn't hear any of the distant sounds of battle.

"One last thing, first," Jacob said, reaching out to hug Sam again.

She welcomed his embrace, reveling in his warmth and the sheer joy and relief brought by the fact that they hadn't permanently hurt him filling her entire mind, body, and soul.

"I'm glad you're ok," she said quietly to her father. "Now we can go home."

"Not quite yet," he whispered in her ear, and the next thing she knew, bright lights were exploding behind her eyes, and she was sinking into the shadowy depths of unconsciousness.