Chapter 8 - Preparation

~I don't get this,~ grumbled Sam. ~You have what you need, why all this talk of logistics and resources?~

*At last we agree on something,* said Jolinar dryly. *Beaurocracy!*

~This is good for everyone, though,~ said Sam, hope finally mingling with the contentment she forced upon herself. ~You get Amonet, keep the harcesis from Apophis. And you can give me Sha're so that she can go back to Daniel—and maybe they will listen to her when she dials Earth.~

*You may have a chance to go home,* Jolinar summed up. *Yes, yes, it's all very exciting to you, but if you are truly as intelligent as you say, you will realize all the variables.*

~She may not have gone to Abydos, Amonet may kill to avoid capture, she may not be removed safely, the Abydonians may not let Sha're contact Earth even after Amonet is removed...no wait, there's another one. Daniel said he would contact Abydos, not the other way around, which is not for many more weeks.~

*And we have yet to find a new host,* added Jolinar.

~Oh yes, won't that be fun,~ intoned Sam.

"Jolinar of Malkshur," came Garshaw's voice finally.

Jolinar looked up—they were done deliberating, so it seemed.

"If your previous information was correct, the harcesis shall not be born for many more weeks," said Garshaw.

Jolinar nodded as Garshaw paused, resting her hands on the platform before her. "Yes?"

"Since the situation is therefore not immediately urgent, we shall wait until an operative returns from a mission to send them out again on this one," said Garshaw, nodding her head to indicate that the conversation was over.

There was a second as both Jolinar and Sam were in shock.

"This is a most foolish decision," said Jolinar.

~Hey, insulting the people in charge is not so good,~ commented Sam.

"What if another Goa'uld is aware of Apophis' plan?" demanded Jolinar. "Or what if Apophis forgoes secrecy for the final days in favor of safety, and surrounds the planet with his entire fleet? As far as we know, now is the best and only time to accomplish this!"

"We are stretched thin, Jolinar," said Garshaw patiently. "The only Tok'ra on this base are personnel unsuited to missions, especially one such requiring such success."

"Let me go," said Jolinar.

"It was our understanding that your host was unwilling to serve the cause of the Tok'ra," said Garshaw, frowning.

~This is different,~ said Sam, encouraging Jolinar. ~This is for a friend—well, and for me a little, too.~

"She is full willing to take on this venture," said Jolinar. "It is of grave importance for more than meets the eyes of the Tok'ra."

"Let me speak with Samantha," commanded Garshaw.

"Yes?" asked Sam when she was able to surface.

"Do you understand that by agreeing to this mission, you are in effect declaring yourself a Tok'ra operative to the Goa'uld?" said Garshaw, her face grave with thought.

"It's not like the Goa'uld didn't know who I was already," said Sam. "We did blow up two motherships."

Garshaw's eyebrow rose, but she nodded her head in acknowledgment of the fact. "Still, suspected Tok'ra will be more harshly dealt with than Tauri, however troublesome. And that is only if you survive, if Jolinar's intuitions are correct and there are neither Jaffa nor ships in wait on Abydos."

"I understand, really," said Sam earnestly. "On Earth our highest goal is the defeat of the Goa'uld—it's just," she stumbled a little, "well, this wasn't the way we had in mind."

"Understood," said Garshaw, bowing her head slightly. "Know, Samantha Carter, that if you should succeed, your people will have the respect of the Tok'ra."

Sam was quite put back, as Jolinar retook control. ~Is this that dangerous?~ she asked, suddenly a bit tentative.

*It is full of insecurity, with many variables out of our control,* said Jolinar. *We are not accustomed to taking such risks on short notice.*

~Ah,~

As if to prove the point, the discussion went on for another hour, bashing out details that even the U.S. military would have brushed over for an urgent mission. Sam was grateful that Jolinar seemed cut from a slightly different cloth, and grew agitated quickly. Finally she cut it short.

"These details are impossible to fully plan before assessing the situation," Jolinar nearly snapped out. "I will give you a full report on how I dealt with them on our return, and that must suffice."

There was a moment of communion between all the council members, and then Garshaw stepped forward again as spokesperson.

"Very well, you may leave when ready."

"And may all the good fortune that has guarded the Tok'ra keep you safe on your journey," added Ren'al.

ooooooo

~So, as I might have suspected, all this urgency?~ Sam trailed off.

*For naught,* said Jolinar, making her way back to the Tok'ra mess hall. *Some of us were not meant for this life, and find it difficult to remember how such it operates.*

~Oh, I know,~ said Sam. ~I've always been military, and I grew up thinking that it was a lot of brave men making hard choices under pressure—truth be told, I was disappointed when I realized all the paperwork that needed to be done, and then a little relieved.~

*A scientist? Appreciating record-keeping?*

~Right. You know, I can almost forget that you're the warrior-type when you agree with me,~ said Sam. ~But really, there's a point where even nit-picking becomes counterproductive.~

*We could not have moved forward immediately under any circumstances,* said Jolinar. *We did not need to. That was the purpose of the urgency, to make sure that the inevitable was done with well before deadline.*

~Right, like this whole ship business,~ said Sam. ~You don't keep one around?~

*And attract the Goa'uld?* answered Jolinar. *We live in subterfuge and stealth—at least for the most part. Taking Goa'uld ships draws attention, destroys cover.*

~And yet, on this mission,~ nudged Sam.

*The Tok'ra are in general overcautious to the point of foolishness,* said Jolinar breezily. *One who is strong enough to accept the risk of capture is in no danger of betraying the rest of the Tok'ra.*

Sam felt confident at that. ~Just out of curiosity,~ she began, though, a little more seriously, ~what would happen if we were to be captured?~

Jolinar paused.

~Yeah, I know you've kind of gotten used to me, but we're allies, that's all.~

*Does not your culture value death over giving in to torture?* asked Jolinar.

Sam flinched. ~We really don't expect to make that choice,~ she said. ~But if things get rough, we hold for rescue until the final moment.~

*There will be no rescue for this mission,* said Jolinar firmly.

~So, you just leave people behind?~ asked Sam.

*Collateral damage. We are few already, we cannot risk losing others in a vain hope for regaining one.*

~Right,~ said Sam, deeply sobered and a little uncomfortable.

Jolinar swept into the mess hall, passing by all her fellow Tok'ra with nary a word nor a look. Taking a platter of food to the same table she always sat at, she focused all her attention on eating. Sam still found that it felt wrong to be eating with no physical effort on her part, and she tried to withdraw as much as possible to keep Jolinar's actions from distracting her.

As Jolinar's easily changeable mood had leveled out from its high, Sam realized that it had affected her as well. And that was a blow. All her life, Sam had prided herself on letting her weak moments be few and far between. After her biology and psychology courses in grad school, she had scoffed at people who made excuses for their errors by blaming their "heart" or their "feelings". As she knew, all feelings were but chemical and neural reactions working together, and if you were self-aware, you could avoid losing control of them. It was cold and scientific, but it had worked for Sam. And now, she realized that her science was poor and paltry compared to the vastness of the universe, where she could not even explain the process by which Jolinar could influence her own emotions. It was frightening and fascinating all at once, and Sam wasn't sure which reason caused her heart to beat a little faster than usual, or if even such a constant as her own heartbeat was under Jolinar's control.

~Do Tok'ra hosts ever fully comprehend all aspects of blending?~ she thought aloud.

*Should I be glad that I have no idea where this thought came from?* asked Jolinar with her mind while chewing down on a small red fruit.

Sam wondered how that was done so easily, but said, ~Well, I have been trying to be quiet. But the question?~

*Do humans ever fully understand their own existence?* asked Jolinar back. *Can you feel your body and know how to move every muscle? Which bones move which way, which tendons and ligaments are required? Where the source of each little pain comes from? Where the food you ate an hour ago is exactly in the digestive system? How many areas of your mind are activated with a single thought?*

~No,~ said Sam. ~Much of that, yes, but not all.~

*To us, such knowledge comes almost without thought,* said Jolinar. *But the process of blending and being Tok'ra is just a natural process, a science like human anatomy is to you. Even the most careless host, after a year, probably knows more of it than most Tok'ra. After twenty years, or a hundred, it becomes a foundation of all other knowledge, rarely thought of.*

~You'd know, wouldn't you,~ said Sam. ~How many hosts have you had?~

*Such a thing is not talked of among the Tok'ra,* said Jolinar, brooding and with a hint of warning.

~So many things...I hope you are kinder to your voluntary hosts about such issues,~ said Sam. ~Or should I just warn them that you are more than usually testy?~

*A voluntary host would care about the relationship, and not constantly and deliberately thwart the desires of his or her symbiote,* answered Jolinar.

~Yup, they're going to know everything before you let me go,~ said Sam.

*Now come, I thought we were focused on the mission,* continued Jolinar.

~It is not until tomorrow at least, so you said,~ said Sam.

*Yes, but there are preparations that will take up the rest of the day,* said Jolinar. *To obtain a ship we must pose as a Goa'uld, and that will take more than traditional Tok'ra equipment to achieve.*

~Yes, please, let's get on with that,~ said Sam, willingly changing the subject.

Outside of their mind, Martouf and Lantash came up to the table.

"Ah," said Jolinar, looking up.

Lantash had a frown on his face. "You went to the Council and requested another mission?"

"It was not out of desire, but necessity," she answered.

Lantash sat down with determination opposite her. "I have only just gotten you back from near-death, and you leave after denying me your presence during your one day here?"

Jolinar flinched. "You know that the good of the Tok'ra outweighs all."

"I only know that it seems to be all in your eyes," said Lantash, leaning forward.

"This is not ideal, as you are well aware," said Jolinar, frustratedly. "I had not intended to leave until a suitable host could be found, but circumstances changed."

"Yes, and at the first moment you leapt for a mission," said Lantash. "Especially with this situation, you should have been patient."

"I do not force Samantha into this," said Jolinar. "She requested it."

"She does not know enough to make an informed request," said Lantash sharply. "For I know you well enough to know you have explained only that which was demanded of you to explain."

"She is no down-trodden woman of a Goa'uld's world, who must be trained to think and fight," answered Jolinar strongly. "She is a warrior of her own right, and not afraid or even unaware of what we will be facing."

Lantash sat back in his chair, sighed, and bowed his head. "My love," said Martouf as he surfaced. "Can you not wait one day at least?"

"And give another day to the enemies of Apophis?" said Jolinar.

"It is but a day," said Martouf, a soft smile in the corners of his mouth. "You have always been careful about time, but not all in the world count by every second."

Jolinar rested her forearms on the table, leaning in a little. "And if we go, and find Amonet one day gone?"

"The likelihood of that, Jolinar," countered Martouf, leaning in the merest fraction of an inch. "You know as I do how slim it is."

"You worry both too much and too little," said Jolinar. "If undertaken now, I will feel certain of our success and not fear for either of our lives. Any wait leads to more danger, both for the mission and for us." She pushed her plate away, gathering up the utensils.

"So this conversation is done?" said Martouf.


"Neither Samantha nor I wish to waste our time," said Jolinar, taking her plate and rising.

Martouf also stood up, putting a hand on hers. "Jolinar—my love—we are not angry at you."

"Then why push me so?" asked Jolinar, looking him straight in the eye. "Why must this issue always arise, when you know you will get no new response?"

"Not always, Jolinar," said Martouf, stroking her hand soothingly. "We might not have spoken had it not been for Samantha."

Jolinar sighed. "I have missed your company as well," she added. "I promise that I shall take my leave of duty as soon as it is a viable option."

Martouf nodded. "And before you go?"

"I shall not leave unfarewelled," said Jolinar.

Martouf smiled a little, squeezed her hand, and followed her as she disposed of her dishes. Then they parted ways, as before.

~I did not realize that this would be an issue for him,~ said Sam.

*Do not feel guilty,* said Jolinar. *Martouf and Lantash are more about thoughts than actions. I tire of all this talk.*

~I don't,~ said Sam. ~That is, it felt good to be around those who spoke in more than three word sentences for a change, but I am ready to go now.~

*Good. I will expect more silence than usual on this mission, for I must hold up the pretense of having suppressed my host,* said Jolinar.

ooooooo

Jolinar led Sam to many different areas of the Tok'ra base the rest of that afternoon. First came a room full of gaudy and brilliantly-patterned clothing, and Jolinar took for herself one of the most distracting. Sam was quietly conflicted with the style of clothing, more slave waitress than god, she thought—but then, Jolinar had said they would only be posing as a minor Goa'uld. Still, Sam wasn't used to showing that much skin. At least she wouldn't be the one having to act comfortable, and considering Jolinar's Tok'ra wardrobe, she wouldn't find it an issue.

Next was the vast warehouse of Goa'uld technology and equipment. Sam would have nearly drooled over the amazing resource, but Jolinar was swift and sure, and took only what she needed; a communicator, a hand device, a healing device, and a couple odds and ends that Sam did not recognize. But as they walked out, and Sam saw all the oddly shaped devices, some of which had forms that betrayed their purpose—she vowed to demand of Jolinar as soon as they were separated that exploring this place would be her recompense for all the inconvenience.

Soon after, a return trip to the infirmary. Larys was alone there, and lit up to see her return. After a compliment on her recovered looks, he retrieved a small case of vials, shots, and jars. No bandages, because if nothing else a Tok'ra symbiote could stop bleeding quickly.

"You will be safe," he said as Jolinar left. "I wouldn't be as kind with my words were you to return to my care."

"I shan't fail again," said Jolinar, and did Sam imagine that her eyes rolled or was it just a long blink?

~So, how will we transport this without a ship?~ asked Sam. ~I assume you don't have Jaffa.~

*We will transport many of these supplies to a small moon near where we shall commandeer our ship, and once we have it, it will be a short trip to retrieve them.*

Sam noticed that they brought no food, a fact she would not have found surprising had not Jolinar eaten every day like a human. Still, it would be a short trip, would it not? And these Al'kesh that Jolinar talked of must have emergency rations.

It was almost night when Jolinar made her last stop, to a room that looked suspiciously like the central computer monitor station in the SGC, with dozens of screens and lights flickering in the dark room. A Tok'ra with a youngish host brought forward a small, tablet sized computer to Jolinar after a few moments, but as no questions were asked and no answers given, it was a strange transaction.

~This is?~ asked Sam.

*The most up-to-date information from all our operatives,* said Jolinar. *Unlikely to be required, but being caught without it is a position of helplessness that I do not wish to be in again.*

By the time they returned to Jolinar's chambers, it felt like night, even if the tunnels were only dimmed artificially. After several trips, the amount of equipment was surprising to Sam. But thanks, she assumed, to the many centuries of similar Tok'ra missions, the Tok'ra version of a suitcase was specially built to fit all of this exactly. Jolinar kept out a few things, "pocket items" as she said, and her outfit. Sam didn't look too closely, but had to acknowledge that it was worse than her prom dress in both daring and horrid style.

Sam expected that they would go to rest now, considering the important departure tomorrow, but Jolinar did not make a move once all was laid neatly it its place.

*I must ask a favor of you,* she said.

~Really?~ asked Sam.

*Martouf, Lantash and I; every night before a mission we spend on the surface.*

~Um, Jolinar, I can't...I've barely gotten to know either of you,~ Sam stammered.

Jolinar smirked. *You humans and your dirty minds...I would not ask such a thing of you, Samantha. My words were exact—we spend the night on the sands of this world and watch the sun and the stars.*

~Oh,~ said Sam, slightly more embarrassed than before.

*You would not object?* asked Jolinar.

~No,~ said Sam. ~Actually, it sounds very nice—I didn't get to see much when we arrived.~

*I noticed from your memories that your planet is very green,* said Jolinar. *The worlds that the Tok'ra have always inhabited have been barren, to avoid contact, and the Goa'uld have no appreciation for the outside world. I have grown to love the warmth and the sand and the clear skies, but I see from your mind that it would be strange to you.*

~Well, Earth is not all green,~ said Sam. ~Not even close. It's just—it's a big planet, and without a Stargate, most of us don't go far beyond our hometown.~

*Without a Stargate?*

~We've had to keep that a secret, for political reasons,~ said Sam, giving her the Cliff's Notes version.

*And yet your planet is so often threatened... The more I learn of your planet, the more I am surprised we escaped alive,* commented Jolinar, and she turned to leave and find Martouf and Lantash.

Sam was surprised and felt a pang at that, but she hid the hurt and tried not to take it personally. The Tok'ra were older and had been living in this world for so long, and even they weren't perfect—their judgment had little weight, especially for a world that had not known for so long that it should be preparing for new horizons. And Jolinar was pretty much tactless. It was easier to suck it up with someone like that, especially when they lived in your mind.

ooooooo

Three hours later, sitting on a soft blanket to keep the sand away, with knees drawn close to the chest in the cool breeze, deep red sunset recreating the simple tan desert as a truly alien world of beauty—Sam didn't even mind that Jolinar had her head leaning on Martouf and Lantash's shoulder, with his arm gently around her shoulders. They had been discreet, silent, and Sam hadn't got the impression that it was just for her.

She was getting drowsy, peaceful and comfortable after her less-than-dull first day on the Tok'ra home-world. Only two days since she had been forced from her own world, and even with Jolinar symbolizing the separation of the two, she felt out of place. Even worse, she felt guilty when her surroundings made her forget that she was essentially a hostage. At this point, a mostly-willing hostage, and treated as a guest, but when it came down to the nitty gritty details?

She just wanted to find a way home. Beneath the unavoidable scientific curiosity of her situation, she hadn't asked for this and never would have. If they could only rescue Sha're, find a host for Jolinar, and when Daniel dialed Abydos if she could just convince him that everything was all right...and if she could convince the military... It wasn't something she could plan for, but when her mind was less distracted by the amazing new things around her, it was all she could think of.

As Sam had withdrawn to let Jolinar have a semi-private moment with Martouf and Lantash, the symbiote had also pulled back on her end, so that Sam wasn't even sure that her loudest and most deliberate thoughts would break through. Jolinar had always been guarded, but now Sam could only guess at what was going through her mind, and it felt strangely unnatural. Despite her confidence, was she thinking about the mission now? Or about the inconvenience of having to think of Sam? Was this tradition a form of meditation for them, just a symbolic ritual, or was she only getting a partial experience of what this couple would have done?

And more importantly, did Jolinar know what this all meant to Sam? To be sure, Sam had only met Sha're briefly, mostly by watching her interact with the then-stranger Daniel, and later she had regretted it. She and Daniel had bonded quickly on the team, not least to have someone to hear and understand their rants after dealing with the warrior minds that surrounded them, but also on a more personal level. Sam was fascinated with how Daniel was both so open and so closed with himself, and after being around Teal'c and the Colonel and her father and General Hammond, it was a relief to listen to a man who did not find that emotions had to be ground and squeezed out but could be freely expressed.

But whatever their friendship, Sam had grown to understand Sha're through Daniel, so much so that she was far more than a simple host to her. And she didn't think Jolinar, or any of the Tok'ra, understood that. Sam wanted Sha're to be free, not just for Daniel, but because it was the right thing to do. And she was willing to put her life on the line if the success of this mission accomplished that.

There had been a moment when Sam doubted herself, thinking that maybe she only thought of Sha're as a bargaining chip to convince Earth to accept her back. But like all the millions of doubts that frequently plagued Sam, she was quickly able to examine and confidently dismiss it as meaningless. No one's motives were pure, but she couldn't see any way where she was compromising herself or others by taking on this mission.

The sun dipped nearer to the horizon, and the purple streaked into the blood-red sky, with deep blue and tiny white stars just beyond that. Night was coming, and as all nights before something big, Sam's mind ran in circles for hours, but eventually and willingly succumbed. She didn't know how long Jolinar planned to stay up, but it was not even fully starry-skied when Sam fell asleep.

Her dreams were plagued with Goa'uld ships and Goa'uld voices, Jaffa ambushes on Abydos and Apophis' hand device, and worst of all Amonet's laughter as she had them all in her trap.