Chapter 6 - Adaptation

Sam was undergoing a whirlwind of thoughts, so speedily spinning that they were clearly in the open of the shared part of their mind, and it was driving Jolinar to distraction. But the symbiote refused to respond until they were in her quarters.

~So we know about Sha're, but even though it's not much, I can't convey it to Daniel at all. Do you know how awful that is? And then, after all you told me about Tok'ra loyalty, you reveal a traitor. I was beginning to trust you, all of you, and now I don't think I should. Okay, so maybe you and Martouf—Lantash—how do you refer to a Tok'ra anyway—are okay on my list. For now. But what's the deal about new hosts? You were telling the truth, right? The whole truth? Or well, I don't think you've done that yet, but you seemed open enough. Or is Garshaw just upset about the fact that you're going to be changing hosts again...is that a kind of taboo? How many hosts have you had?~

*Stop it!* snapped Jolinar finally, as loud as an imaginary voice could get.

~I wasn't talking to you, I was talking at you,~ said Sam.

*Then there is no need for excessive volume,* hissed Jolinar, forgetting that she wasn't speaking. Then she continued walking at a faster pace down corridors that all looked the same to Sam.

It was at least a little dismissive, and Sam's curiosity dissipated. She felt little bubbles of anger start to gather in the pool of her emotions that had been stirred violently by Jolinar's debriefing. Gathering, rising, she was near a bout of frustration at her arrogant symbiote that was long in coming. Telling herself that it wasn't going to help, though, she settled back for some passive resistance.

She was evilly glad when her mental rendition of It's A Small World was equally tooth-grinding to alien symbiotes as to her brother when they were young.

Finally, Jolinar turned on her heel into a small chamber. A mirror, a bed, and a chest at the foot, were all that adorned it.

~I should have known,~ commented Sam.

Brushing back Sam's short hair, which seemed to irritate her, Jolinar breathed out and lay down on the bed. It was surprisingly soft and supportive to Sam's back, weary from standing so long in the Council chamber, and her feet as well appreciated the rest from walking on stone floors.

As all their muscles relaxed, Jolinar laid her hands gently on her own stomach as she lay with her eyes closed. *Are you prepared to be civil in your interrogation?*

~Yes,~ said Sam, suitably calmed as a result of her cerebral terrorism.

*Well, shall we start with the accusations of lying and manipulation?* asked Jolinar.

~So the Tok'ra aren't loyal for life, as you told me,~ started Sam.

*No. It was a generalization, I will allow, but one based in fact.*

~Like what?~ asked Sam, willing for the moment to give the benefit of a doubt.

*This cause is not one to be entered by those unsure of what they believe,* said Jolinar. *There is danger and hardship, and once the choice is made, it is as if there is no going back. And no, before you say anything, I believe that Cordesh was loyal before. I know not what torment or threats turned him, but he was not always so. It is rare—I know of only one other case, hundreds of years ago.*

~And you, how do I know you're not hiding your true nature from me?~ asked Sam.

Jolinar snorted. *And they consider you highly intelligent on your planet! Can you think of even the remotest possible plan that I might have that would lead me to seek actively to get rid of you?*

~No,~ said Sam after a moment. She added, ~I didn't know you were so adamant about the issue as I was—it seemed like you might have wanted me to change my mind.~

*It would certainly be in my best interests, physically, to stay in you,* said Jolinar. *But mentally? Believe me, your battering of my nerves and temper is hardly what I would wish for on a permanent basis.*

Sam couldn't help but comment. ~I have made your life living hell, haven't I? I guess I'm a little sorry about that. But about that, why is it such a big deal that you get a new host?~

*They are rare,* admitted Jolinar.

~Oh?~ asked Sam suspiciously.

*Humans are so individualistic,* said Jolinar. *Even those whose identities and wills have been suppressed for a lifetime by the Goa'uld are terrified of the prospect of sharing mind and body. Finding those who see past instinctual revulsion is a prospect of much trial and error. And because our lives depend on secrecy, trial and error is more difficult than it might be. Some seek us out, but usually we must search.*

~So what does that mean for me?~ asked Sam uneasily.

*There will be a reason for us to make many trials,* said Jolinar simply and yet a bit cryptically. *And don't say that I didn't tell you the whole truth, because even were there a host ready to take your place at this minute, I could not do so without dying in the process.*

~I know, I'm all right with being patient for a while,~ said Sam. ~Just as long as I know it's a "when" and not an "if" situation.~

*I keep my word,* repeated Jolinar.

~What's a harcesis?~ asked Sam, picking a question that didn't seem as emotionally charged.

*It is the offspring of two Goa'uld, a human child who will carry the genetic memory of both predecessors,* said Jolinar.

~Oh,~ said Sam, her voice full of sudden revulsion. ~You mean Apophis is forcing Sha're to bear his child?~ She was filled with worry both for Sha're and for Daniel, if he ever found out.

*I am sorry for you—I did not realize your relation to the host,* said Jolinar.

~But why is it such a problem for the Tok'ra?~ asked Sam, burying her disgust.

*It is not,* said Jolinar. *But it is forbidden among the Goa'uld. The Tok'ra merely wish to spare the child from being the object of so much hatred, and to give him a life where his knowledge will serve only good.*

~Poor thing,~ said Sam. ~He won't even know his mother, no matter what happens.~

*She has not been a host for long, she will give him all that she can, I am sure,* said Jolinar, surprisingly soothing.

~What do you mean? The child could hear her thoughts?~

*No, the symbiote must remain dormant during the pregnancy,* said Jolinar. *Your Sha're will have those months free of Amonet.*

~I hope you find her,~ thought Sam.

There was a few moments of silence.

*Have I satisfied your questioning mind?* asked Jolinar.

~Why do you sound like you dread it so much?~ said Sam, a bit of accusation in her tone, but mostly a vague content.

*I have not been used to hosts who talk so much,* admitted Jolinar. *I am now reminded why I prefer to be on a mission, away from—certain others here.*

~Well, maybe I'll be good for you~ said Sam. ~You'd think that after a thousand years or so you'd have ironed out all those problems.~

If Jolinar had not been resting, she would have rolled her eyes. *You are a scientist, and yet you seem to understand little of how the mind works. It is so much easier to avoid that which annoys than to work to tolerate it.*

~How is it that you sound so human?~ asked Sam. ~Are your personalities that susceptible to our minds once joined? Is it more than physical for you?~

*Wait,* said Jolinar. *Any questions you have about our nature must wait, for I cannot answer them. Tomorrow I will let others be at your mercy for how many questions you will ask, others whose fields of study will be of more use.*

Sam sighed. ~You know, I might have liked you if you hadn't taken over my head. Well, found you interesting, anyway.~

*I can only imagine,* said Jolinar dryly. *Your panicked face as you saw the glowing eyes, and then the terror as you ran for a weapon. Would you have heard even one word if you had another choice?*

~Daniel would have listened,~ said Sam, the only pseudo-apology she could offer. ~Daniel always listens. Jack hates that.~

*You want his approval, or else you would agree with this Daniel,* commented Jolinar.

~What, you don't seek the approval of your authorities?~ defended Sam.

*I have none,* said Jolinar simply. *The Council has no power over me unless I let them.*

~Well, lucky you,~ said Sam. ~But no, I'm not sorry I have to be military minded. It's just—sometimes Daniel's right and the military is wrong.~

*No one should make their decisions based on what group they affiliate with,* said Jolinar. *The individual mind has ethics that are more consistent than any created version, if we are bold enough to break free and follow them.*

~Yeah, you really like that whole independence spiel,~ said Sam.

When Jolinar didn't answer, Sam got the feeling, as usual, that the symbiote wasn't being open. But she was too tired to continue. It seemed like days ago that she had stepped through the gate onto this world, and weeks ago since she had slept in pain on another planet. She forced herself not to think of how long since she had left Earth—there was no point in unburying those feelings, not until there was something she could do about them.

*I am weary as well,* said Jolinar, sitting up on the bed. *Shall we retire?*

~Yes, please,~ said Sam. As Jolinar stood up and walked to her dresser, Sam suddenly had a moment of worry. ~Wait, is this yours and Martouf's room?~

*Why should it be?* asked Jolinar. *We are mated, not joined at the hip.*

~Oh, that's good,~ said Sam with relief. ~It's just, on Earth, couples share beds.~

*Oh, that is not unknown to the Tok'ra,* said Jolinar slyly. *But not always.*

Sam was eternally grateful that she kept the comment cryptic—given Jolinar's personality, she had no desire for an open confession of the love life of a Tok'ra. That would be a step over the line into too disturbing. She had only been here for a day, after all, and it was all new.

Jolinar brushed her fingers through Sam's hair, untangling what little tangles there were, and then washing her face in cold water. Then, indulging a small yawn, she began to strip.

~Um, Jolinar, the door,~ commented Sam urgently.

*What door?* asked Jolinar, not stopping.

Sam followed her gaze, and noticed that there was, in fact, no door. ~Whoa, whoa, you're not undressing me in public!~

*Certainly not,* said Jolinar. *We are quite alone.*

~But anyone could walk by,~ explained Sam.

*The Tok'ra are not nosy, it is just that there are no secrets,* said Jolinar. *Relax, no one will see us.*

~If they do, nothing will save your life,~ warned Sam fiercely.

Jolinar grinned. Letting the leather robe drape over the back of the chair, she crawled into bed.

~Must you sleep nude?~ asked Sam, but tired enough not to care all too much.

*Is there another way?* asked Jolinar, confused.

~Never mind,~ said Sam, feeling drowsy.

Jolinar curled up under the covers, letting her healed limbs finally relax into a more natural position than how they had slept for the past nights. Sam had felt uncomfortable and confused for much of the day, but feeling a cool soft pillow under her head again seemed to bring everything together. As Jolinar slowed her breathing and heartbeat and adjusted her melatonin levels, Sam finally decided that if she kept her eyes closed, she could almost imagine herself back at home. Some things, like beds and sleep, didn't change no matter where you went or with whom, and that was of great comfort.

ooooooo

When Sam woke, she was surprised that her eyes automatically opened. Jolinar was still asleep, and apparently at some point in the night had loosened her control.

~Strange,~ thought Sam as quietly as she could. ~Must be a Tok'ra thing; Goa'uld would be at a disadvantage if they couldn't keep control.~

Sitting up slowly and yawning, Sam relished the silence in her head. Not only the silence, but the lack of conscious presence. It was like a weight in the back of her mind, but she could almost ignore it. Ignore it, at least, until she noticed the crystal walls and the sharp crisp scent.

Then, suddenly, she remembered that there was no door and she had no clothes. Blushing furiously, she wrapped the blanket around her and walked over to Jolinar's makeshift closet. Frowning, she flipped through the clothes rather hopelessly. Leather, leather, silk, leather, silk, some strange fabrics she couldn't identify, silk, silk, leather. Sam hadn't noticed much fancy dress among the Tok'ra—mostly minimalist clothing, and even uniforms among many of them. But Jolinar didn't have anything simple enough, nothing the equivalent of BDUs.

Pressing her lips together, Sam finally picked a dark-colored dress that might have been made of sturdy linen, passing over the leather pantsuit just barely. The scoop neck was flattering, and the belted waist was also handy—Sam didn't know what size Rosha had been, and she didn't want to think about that issue at all. Grabbing some silky underthings, Sam retreated to the most private corner to quickly put them on.

*Hmm,* came a drowsy grumble from her mind.

~Needed sleep more than you thought, eh?~ commented Sam.

*I'm surprised your thoughts didn't wake me,* said Jolinar.

~Maybe I'm getting better at hiding them,~ said Sam.

*Or I sleep deeply,* answered Jolinar.

~Yeah, because that's just what's needed for a stealth operative,~ commented Sam incredulously.

*What are you clothing me in?* asked Jolinar suddenly, changing the subject abruptly.

~What, so objectionable to you?~ asked Sam. ~It was in your closet.~

*This is hardly an outfit for daily life,* said Jolinar.

~Oh really? I was thinking the same thing, looking at your wardrobe. You don't have anything simple!~

*Perhaps by your terms,* said Jolinar. *Will you let me finish, if you are so set on this?*

~Fine,~ conceded Sam.

Jolinar quickly walked over to her mirror, readjusting minor details about how Sam had put on the dress, and opening a drawer beneath the mirror. She took out a brush to remove the tangles from Sam's hair, and then a small bottle. Pouring some sweet smelling gel into her hands, she then rubbed it through Sam's hair until it lay flat against her head.

~Well, that's one way to do it,~ said Sam. She wasn't fond of the almost anti-feminine allure the fiercely gelled hair gave off, but with the dress as counter-balance, it wasn't that bad.

"Now, breakfast," said Jolinar.

~Why do you always want to be in control?~ asked Sam.

"Do you have anything to convey to the people on this planet?" asked Jolinar. "They will assume that I am in control, because they only know me, so you will constantly be handing over control when they wish to speak to me."

~This is just weird,~ said Sam. ~How do you communicate with two people in one body on a regular basis without things being confused?~

Jolinar was walking down the halls, so she thought her answers to Sam. *There is usually a dominant consciousness, one who prefers to handle the communication, and another who does more listening.*

~So, Martouf likes to talk a lot?~ asked Sam curiously.

*Yes, and no,* explained Jolinar. *It is true that he communicates more often with words, but his dominant status is more due to the fact that he is Lantash's—I think you would say, editor. Lantash does not think of how his opinions will sound before he lets them loose; Martouf has seen need to stay in control to translate his meaning into more palatable terms.*

~Ah,~ said Sam, smiling a little at the quirkiness of it all.

The Tok'ra mess hall was different than the one at the SGC, not surprisingly. Tables for two and three were scattered around, some pushed together for larger groups, but most clearly separate. The food was displayed on a counter cut into the crystal wall, apparently leading into the Tok'ra equivalent of the kitchen. What it lacked in variety for shape, it made up for in color. Sam didn't recognize anything as Jolinar loaded up a platter, but it smelled tolerable enough, if exotic.

~What if I don't like it, how does that work?~ asked Sam.

*You will have more limited taste abilities while I am in control,* said Jolinar. *But I assure you, nothing here has enough taste to displease you.*

Sam would have grinned if she could. ~Yeah, I guess mass-produced food is universally lacking.~

Jolinar found a table well removed from the others, but whether to spare Sam from discomfort or to serve her own nearly anti-social preferences, it was not evident. She began to eat in silence, and Sam had to agree—the food had taste, but it was nothing too different from the basic tastes of home.

"May I?"

Jolinar looked up, and Martouf stood with his own platter.

"Of course," said Jolinar, smiling at him.

"How is Carter today," he asked.

~Glad he remembered,~ said Sam, still a bit put off by his obvious adoration of Jolinar.

"Samantha is generally content, though still strongly wishing for her return to her people," said Jolinar.

Sam noticed that Jolinar's left hand, and Martouf's right, were slowly and unconsciously drifting across the space between them to touch in the middle of the table, as their other hands helped them eat.

"I am sorry that circumstances make her so opposed to this," said Martouf. "She would do you good."

Jolinar hmphed.

"You protest, but she is strong enough to counter you, I can tell," said Martouf with a smile. "You need that, you know."

"I do not need an endlessly contrary host," protested Jolinar.

"Which she is not," said Martouf simply.

~He's right,~ said Sam. ~You're just testy.~

Jolinar outwardly frowned a little, and Martouf raised an eyebrow. "I believe my point was just proved," he said.

"Let us drop this subject," said Jolinar. "Have you been busy for the Council while I was gone, or did you actually leave the base?"

"Not all of us are suited to off-world actions," said Martouf.

The barely-visible smiles on both faces gave the impression that this was a matter of long discussion and teasing, and only brought up now out of habit. Martouf continued to talk, but the names and terms were unfamiliar to Sam, and she instead watched how the two interacted—or was it three? How long had they been together? There was both the feeling of a long and comfortable relationship, but mixed with the idealism of a honeymoon stage. Whatever it was, Sam would have thought it cute and nice had she not had to be a part of it.

It was just for breakfast, though—Jolinar had promised her more answers today, and Sam was willing to wait a little while for them.

ooooooo

"General?"

Hammond looked up from his desk, where Daniel's head was poked around the corner. "Yes, Dr. Jackson?"

He popped in the room, hands stuck in his pockets, brow furrowed. "Sir, I need to ask—please, let SG-1 be a five man team!"

Hammond looked surprised, especially at the near-begging tone. "What?"

"Jack is going to kill those prospective members if you don't give him more leeway," said Daniel. "Really, no one more intimidating or with higher standards could exist!"

"Dr. Jackson, a four man team is ideal, and standard for the teams we have now," said Hammond.

"Yes, but SG-1 is a flag team, don't you want it to be the best?" argued Daniel. "Especially when the leader seems determined that it be the best or nothing at all," he added, muttering.

Hammond paused, looking at Daniel's earnest face. "I'll consider it," he said.

"Thank you, sir," said Daniel, his face lightening a little. "I really don't know if I can protect them any longer, if they don't have just the right qualities."

"Good luck," called Hammond as Daniel left.

"Yeah, we need all of it," called Daniel back.

This was difficult for Hammond. Jack was handling this all so badly, and Daniel, for all the good face he tried to portray, was hardly doing better. And it wasn't anyone else's fault—so why not make it easier on everybody? He'd contact his superiors with the suggestion, and give it all his backing.

ooooooo

Eventually the conversation faded, and the food disappeared. Martouf squeezed Jolinar's hand one last time before leaving for his duties, and Jolinar rose to clear her tray.

~Now what?~ asked Sam.

*Now, you can ask your pesky questions of Selmak and Saroosh,* said Jolinar.

~Who are they?~ asked Sam.

*The oldest and wisest of the Tok'ra,* said Jolinar. *So if they are overwhelmed by your curiosity, you will have only yourself to blame.*

~Right,~ said Sam dryly. ~For someone who never stops talking, you are remarkably intolerant of my speech.~

*I do not talk nonstop!* protested Jolinar strongly.

Sam grinned inwardly. ~Gotcha.~

*Your humor is very strange,* said Jolinar moodily.

~Yeah, well, so is your culture,~ shot back Sam, her tone light but her meaning strongly serious. ~Come on, you can go hide while I talk if you want.~