Chapter 3 - Catalyst
~Why did you do that, bring up Sha're?~ demanded Sam. ~Of all the cards to play, Daniel wouldn't go for that one.~
*What, now you have thoughts?* said Jolinar. *And yet your mind was silent for all that time, giving me nothing.*
~I just wanted to watch you fail,~ said Sam.
*You are even more of a fool than I first imagined,* muttered Jolinar.
~You only say that because I am growing defiant,~ answered Sam. ~You don't like that, do you.~
*You speak of what you know not,* spat Jolinar. *And I grow weary of it.*
Sam felt another moment of grief flash from Jolinar before she stuffed it down, and Sam doubted for a moment. ~You're not lying, are you,~ she said.
*Why would I?* retorted Jolinar shortly. *If I wished, I could lie to you all I wanted, and you would never emerge to reveal it. But can you name one thing that I have said that I have not supported?*
~You haven't left me, yet,~ said Sam, but she knew it was a excuse that was wearing thin. ~But why get so angry? It only makes people suspicious.~
*As if I choose to,* snorted Jolinar. *I am but at war with my nature, as are you all—my anger is not a negotiation technique.*
~Okay, so you have a temper,~ acknowledged Sam, feeling almost tickled at having drawn this information from the symbiote. She stopped to think. ~Why can't you see everything in my mind?~ she asked. ~We always assumed that the Goa'uld could do so.~
*They can,* said Jolinar. *But I am not one of them.*
~So you lose that by becoming a Tok'ra?~ Sam couldn't believe she was talking like this to—to whatever Jolinar was.
*Not physically. But the sharing of minds can only come when both are open to the idea of blending, or when the symbiote overpowers and forces its way into the host's mind. As the latter is both torturous for the host and a misuse of power for the symbiote, the Tok'ra only accept the minds of those willing to blend. As you are not.*
~Oh,~ said Sam, starting to feel strange. ~So you can't see any of my thoughts?~
*Only those you recklessly let loose where I can see them,* said Jolinar. *I have been used to only blended relationships—your closed mind is just another frustration to this situation.*
~What, on top of the assassin coming for us? You do have a plan, right?~
*Die with honor,* said Jolinar darkly.
Sam felt a twinge of fear. ~Exactly what does that mean?~
*All the years I have escaped from these ashrak they send, I have been free to move as I pleased. Trapped here, I have no course of action.*
~You are not taking me with you,~ ordered Sam. ~If you really wish to leave me unharmed, you won't give up.~
*I have not, but there is no option open at the moment,* said Jolinar wearily.
Sam didn't say anything in response, just began to run over all the variables in the situation.
ooooooo
"So, no luck with Jolly?" asked Jack, as Daniel came up to where he was at the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain.
"She didn't have anything else to say," intoned Daniel. "Oh wait, no, she brought up Sha're. Then I left." His arms rested uncomfortably across his chest.
"Bitch," muttered Jack.
"She was probably just desperate," allowed Daniel. "But I'm not in the mood."
"Yeah, that whole conversation has me in the mood to kill some Goa'uld," said Jack, holding his gun firmly.
"I don't know if I want to kill anything, I just want this to be over with," said Daniel a little disgustedly.
"Yeah, and how would that be?"
"We might just have to remove her from Sam," said Daniel curtly.
"What, no negotiation?" Jack looked a little surprised.
"Time's running out for Sam if a Goa'uld is trying to find her—and I can't negotiate with someone who isn't willing to cooperate." Daniel looked grim.
Jack grunted in agreement.
"So, what are we doing here?" asked Daniel rather pathetically after a second. There was some piece of equipment at the door connected to a computer, two marines standing by, and Jack a few feet off and armed as usual.
"All entry points are forcing palm scans—only base personnel allowed."
"You think it will work?" asked Daniel.
"No," said Jack, indicating his gun.
Daniel nodded. "So, I was thinking, why does helping people always lead to complications for us? Not for SG-3, or SG-5, or any other SG team...usually just us."
"Because we're special, Daniel," said Jack as if Daniel was his four-year-old son, but the disgust was hidden beneath. "Have you reported to Hammond?" he asked, deftly changing the subject.
"Yeah," said Daniel. "Well, not a full report, you know, just the main points. Edwards is going to report back in a few hours, and if we don't have the Goa'uld by then, we might have to make a decision." He trailed off, and looked at Jack. After a moment, he added. "Jack, what is with you? I mean, I thought you'd be all up in arms about this."
"Daniel, we've been through this," said Jack. "It's not like I can do anything."
"That doesn't really stop you at other times," pointed out Daniel.
"You want my thoughts?" demanded Jack. "This is damned unfair. Carter's the one person who's consistently cautious and careful on our missions, and always watching our backs—and this happens anyway! I don't want to lose all my people, Daniel—they're always the best, and I just can't take anymore. But if I start mouthing off, that worm Edwards is going to start making rash decisions, and Carter deserves more than that from us."
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
Jack gave him a look. "What?"
"Nothing," said Daniel.
Another camo-clothed denizen walked past them, and Daniel frowned. He looked to Jack. "Wait, what's that?"
They both looked to the palm reader, where the computer was flashing red and the marine stood as if in a daze.
"Damn it!" swore Jack, and looked over his shoulder. The perpetrator was gone. "Grab a gun, Daniel, he's after Carter!" he called as he dashed down the hall.
Daniel ran over to the marines, shaking them until they roused themselves. "Get to the infirmary," advised Daniel. He grabbed one of their sidearms, and then followed after Jack.
He had been hoping for something to change so that the decision would be clear. Now all he wished for was that there would still be a decision to make.
ooooooo
After another idea gave her only frustration, Sam stopped to let her mind cool down.
*You really think your people will keep you safe,* said Jolinar finally after a long silence.
~Yes. And no. I always want to have a plan B; but they know what to look for, I don't think they'll be caught off guard.~
*They're facing a foe that is unfamiliar to them, and specifically trained to get past them. I hope you have a plan B soon,* Jolinar finished grimly.
~What, you can't think for yourself?~ asked Sam.
*To escape or defend a facility whose only rooms I have seen have been medical center and holding cell? I'm not that overconfident,* said Jolinar. *My only reliance can be on you.*
~I don't know if that's a compliment, but it doesn't really matter,~ said Sam. ~Wait, you said escape?~
*My first plan is hardly dying here,* snorted Jolinar.
~I hadn't been considering those options,~ said Sam.
*I did notice,* said Jolinar.
~I think you're right here,~ acknowledged Sam reluctantly. ~There's no hope cornered, if that ashrak really knows where you are.~
*By now he will have become aware of the situation with you—your people have not been discreet,* said Jolinar with dark disapproval.
~Can I have control?~ Sam suddenly asked, feeling odd, but familiar enough with the symbiote to make the question odd only due to her former defiance.
Jolinar silently granted her power of her limbs. Sam was feeling better—sore and burning in areas, but ready to move. She had to move, the tension was getting to her. Sitting fully up, she found that she only had to wince a little, and even standing completely up didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have. Symbiotes were good for something, she decided.
*You're welcome, said Jolinar with dark humor.
"Okay, I think I've got something," said Sam, glad to be speaking out loud at last. Her throat was dry, but she cleared it, and then made her way to the cell door.
*Your plan?* inquired Jolinar.
"You give me super strength, right?" asked Sam.
*At full health, yes, your strength would be greater than naturally,* said Jolinar, with a smirk at the "super" part that Sam could almost seem to see.
"The guards are guarding the door from outside now. Can I rip a pin from the lock if I can get to it?"
*Yes,* said Jolinar, catching on quickly.
Sam carefully removed her IV, and then ripped the tubing from the plastic back. Walking gingerly over to the door, her burns threatening to scream at any moment, she stretched her fingers for a second before using the needle to rip the tubing into thinner pieces. When she had a small enough piece of plastic, she poked her finger at the lock.
"Yes," she muttered satisfactorily. Carefully, she began to thread the plastic into the lock, dodging this and that piece of the mechanism, and wrapping around one part she knew would be useful for her plan. After circling the part a couple times, she threaded the plastic out again. "Jolinar?"
Jolinar took control for a second and with a sharp pull, the lock snapped loudly and Sam's tender shoulder screamed. Jolinar granted the control back to Sam, who swallowed her pain before getting back to the lock. With that one part broken, Sam used the IV needle to poke another part aside, then drawing another part forward, until the lock was sufficiently unstable. Jolinar saw the last part of the plan, took control again, and grasping the bars of the cell, pulled the door away from the wall.
The lock broke and the door opened.
"Chock one up for Macgyver," muttered Sam with a dark grin. She moved carefully over to the locked door and peeked through. The two marines were standing nervously, having been warned that a Goa'uld might be headed their way, determined to hold the locked cell from any intruders.
"I can't unlock this one," whispered Sam. "It's electronic, and would need a hack, and I have nothing."
Suddenly Jolinar took over her limbs.
~Hey,~ said Sam, caught off guard and suddenly terrified that she had made an error in judgment.
*I have been more than usually patient,* said Jolinar. *Now that you have come to your senses and realized that the only way out is cooperation, you will have to forgive me if I take initiative.*
Sam's fear was proven false. Though every part of her mind still flinched at the invasion, her logic forced her to grant a semblance of permission to Jolinar.
Jolinar moved into a solid position behind the door, then let out a terrified scream in a quiet tone, so that it could have been coming from across the room. Sam was surprised at the genuine terror that Jolinar infused into her ploy; she was a competent actress. Sam watched as the marines jumped at the sound, looking worried out of their minds, and fumbled for the key card to open the door. They stumbled in, but only a moment of confusion was granted them, as Jolinar stepped forward and neatly knocked their heads together.
~You didn't need to do that,~ said Sam.
*Desperate times,* said Jolinar. *And will it not save them a 'court-martial'?*
Sam didn't answer. Jolinar reached down, picked up the key card and a sidearm, and then neatly stripped the coat from the man. Putting it on over her hospital scrubs, she held the gun in one hand and the card in another, then marched out of the door and down the hall.
~Wait, where are you going?~ asked Sam, unsure.
*To the Stargate,* said Jolinar.
~No,~ commanded Sam. ~If you are anything you say you are, you will march back to that cell.~
*And wait for my trial and execution? I am facing two enemies now.*
~You said this was just an accident, that you were saving us both,~ pushed Sam. ~And now you're kidnapping me?~
*The safest place is off-world,* pushed Jolinar back. *The ashrak could appear at any moment, and he deals out death swiftly.*
~And we'll never get back,~ declared Sam. ~My GDO code will be locked out, and I'll be stranded off-world, no matter what happens to you. I think not.~
*Death is preferable to banishment? Your race can be idiotic as well as strange,* Jolinar declared bluntly. *Well, I will not allow you to be so.*
~So you don't really share, you just do what you think is best,~ said Sam darkly.
*Will you despise me forever if I continue down this path of action?* asked Jolinar pointedly, pausing to wait for an answer.
Sam felt manipulated, frustrated, and begrudging all at once. Jolinar was using the danger to get her freedom, and yet she had only good points that Sam really didn't want to have to acknowledge. She felt that if she said 'yes' now, Jolinar would stop—when had she started to trust a symbiote? What was wrong with her? And yet—wasn't it her duty to survive? Sam felt that she might regret this, but no more than if she stayed and found that a mistake had been made—it was a devil's choice, and Sam decided to go with the path of least resistance and at least some hope.
~No, I won't hate you. But I go protesting.~
*Good,* said Jolinar bluntly, and began walking again.
Jolinar chose the halls of least traffic, the stairs instead of the elevator, as most personnel were stationed for battle against a Goa'uld invader and she read from Sam's mind where those stations would be.
*Well, any more information? Or are you going to be tight-lipped and bitter?* asked Jolinar as they neared the gate-room.
~The gate-room will be heavily guarded. And I'm not going to let you get away with shooting anyone.~ answered Sam.
*If I but stun?*
~You mean use a zat gun?~
*Zat'nik'tel. Why must you corrupt and bastardize perfectly meaningful language?* muttered Jolinar.
~I bet you've always hated how long that word was,~ challenged Sam, and was gratified to not receive an immediate response—probably Jolinar's way of avoiding admission of loss in an argument.
Catching a random stray thought of Sam's and latching onto it, Jolinar found an armory and snatched a zat for her own. Down the hall, there were footsteps approaching, and so, hurrying, even as the quick movement tore at scabs, Jolinar ran towards the gate-room.
Sam had been right, and the marines were on guard. But Jolinar was swift and expertly talented, glancing off five shots of the zat before they acknowledged their presence, and downing the other marines in their shock and confusion at the escape of their prisoner. Before even all that was done, she was charging up the stairs. Sam cringed as she saw and felt herself being used to take down her people, but as she could feel no malice coming from Jolinar, she couldn't bring herself to be bitter.
Jolinar approached the terrified gate technicians. "Open the gate, now!" she demanded.
"We—can't. Sorry," stammered one, a brainy looking man without a gun.
"Put the zat down!" demanded the second gate tech, a woman with a fierce red ponytail, who had whipped out a gun after overcoming her second of shock.
Jolinar eyed her, assessing her strengths. When the woman did not make a move as Jolinar refused, it was a quick-draw, and the enhanced reflexes of the symbiote won. The woman spasmed and went down in blue lightning, but not before her weapon fired, and a bullet grazed through Sam's shoulder. Jolinar winced, but her eyes flashed, and the other gate tech seemed about to die of fright.
"I will not ask again," said Jolinar slowly, stepping forward and towering over him.
"I can't!" he squeaked.
~Tell him to do it quietly and no one gets hurt, but tell him you'll blow the whole place if he doesn't. That should give him an excuse that will get him out of trouble,~ said Sam, betraying her own and hating herself for it.
"Let me through the gate, or I will overload your systems and send this pathetic facility in all directions and in tiny pieces," threatened Jolinar. "Do you want to be the instrument of so many deaths?"
"You—you wouldn't," said the gate-tech.
Jolinar cast a lazy glance over the zatted bodies, her performance convincing in its languid determination.
The gate-tech swallowed and quickly typed in his password. Jolinar zatted him for good measure, and stepped forward. "Waste of time," she muttered, pausing and then quickly typing something into the computer that Sam didn't recognize before punching in an address that Sam did not know.
~I didn't have the password. But you didn't have to zat him.~
"I don't leave loose ends that could spoil the plan," said Jolinar. "He'll be fine."
The gate shuddered and started to dial.
~You're burning all your bridges,~ added Sam, as Jolinar stepped down to the ramp, ripping a piece of the scrubs to stop the bleeding from the shoulder wound. ~You won't ever gain their trust now.~
*I don't need it,* said Jolinar.
The gate locked the final chevron, and as the burst of blue watery wormhole filled the room, there was the sound of a gun cocking behind them. Jolinar turned, and there was another marine—his eyes flashed.
"Jolinar of Malkshur, you will perish by the order of the System Lords," he declared in tones that rang through the room.
Jolinar cursed to herself, and ran up the ramp in a final effort. A sudden spray of bullets followed, and before she launched herself through the wormhole, Sam felt the impact and two new holes in her side and shoulder. The wormhole travel was brief, and as they rolled out of the gate on the other side, Sam would have screamed in agony had she been able. She was shot, twice plus a graze, and the new sharp pain was added to her nearly-fresh burns that sent pulses of pain.
Jolinar held up her weapon to the event horizon in case the ashrak would follow, but apparently he saw too much risk in going to an unknown planet. The wormhole shut down, and with a sigh of released tension, Jolinar gave in to the pain. They were seeping blood out onto the hard ground, and Jolinar used all her strength to stop what she could. Sam's consciousness was overwhelmed, though, and she began to lose it. Darkness was filling her sight, and her last thought was how terrible her luck must be, given that she was actually relieved to be a host on a strange planet with extensive injuries.
~Godawful luck; what higher power did I piss off?~
The irony attached to that particular turn of phrase didn't escape her or Jolinar, but any response was lost as Sam faded out of consciousness again.