Chapter 23 - Ordinary
"What, no breakfast?" asked Daniel, taking the last entirely empty bench just across the table from Mckay. The neurotic scientist was surrounded by papers, calculators, and his favorite tablet computer, but despite his usual attention to food he had none now.
"I'm not really in the mood for talking," Mckay answered absently, snapping his fingers as he waited for his test to finish collating.
"What could possibly have you too busy to eat?" asked Daniel through a mouthful of his own oatmeal, ignoring Mckay's protestation as usual.
"Your idea, actually," responded Mckay, equally ignoring his own earlier comment. "Your grand idea to expand the non-military part of this base? Admirable in intent, maybe, but you handed it over to the one person who wouldn't know how to handle it."
"General Hammond?" asked Daniel, then took a sip of his coffee.
"No," said Mckay in an obvious tone, abandoning his work for a second to give Daniel a look. "I didn't mean person literally; I meant the military. They're all about delegation and formal applications and deadlines."
Daniel shrugged, nothing to retort about what he'd heard.
"What's this, team breakfast?" asked Dixon, walking by with his food.
"Do you want it to be?" asked Daniel, looking up.
"No," said Mckay, even though he hadn't been asked.
"Well, in that case," murmured Dixon with a slight dance of his eyebrows, and then took a seat next to Daniel.
"What is that calculating, exactly?" asked Daniel, nodding to Mckay's computer.
"I'm trying to find something in common with the scientists here that I least think worthy of the position and how they came to be here in the first place, looking for variables that I can eliminate from my own search."
Dixon half-choked on his bite of bacon. Daniel glanced over to him, and they shared a knowing look—what it was they both know, though, neither of them could have fully said.
"And I was thinking I was taking too long," said Daniel under his breath.
ooooooo
Jolinar hadn't expanded on her plan of operation, but Sam could tell it wasn't due to stubborn silence, just efficiency to wait until it became immediately relevant. The next morning was taken up by Martouf and Lantash, who had just returned from their own mission.
"I was surprised to hear you had left the base," Jolinar had said, after the usual embrace and cheek-kiss.
"I'm sure you were," said Lantash. "But one of our operatives had been taken into custody by angry and confused people, and the Council needed a decidedly friendly, calm face and voice. And that would be Martouf."
"Yes, just as I am called to bring down escaped fugitives," murmured Jolinar, her eyes dropping for a second.
Lantash had put a hand under her chin to lift it so that he could look her in the eyes, searching for the meaning behind her answer. It had not taken long to find. As the story wore to an end, Jolinar had eventually revealed what she had told Samantha. Lantash had been surprised but pleased to hear it.
"I did not think you would be so open without a push," he commented.
Martouf came forward with his approval as well, and he wished to hear what Sam thought of it all. After coming forward, though, Sam found that she didn't have much to say at all. Despite all her confusion, in the end she had found herself agreeing with Jolinar; after this amount of time, the information was less relevant than it might seem.
"Does it sound terrible if I say it wasn't a complete shock?" she asked.
Martouf hid a small smile and shook his head. "I should hope not, for that would have meant that Jolinar had been behaving dishonestly, which I would not expect."
"To be honest, and I told her this," continued Sam, "it's just going to take a little time. It's not like I need any particular proof, just that it's hard to go back to the way things were just like that."
Martouf nodded. "Of course. In a way, Jolinar might have made the best choice by holding off this information until you were familiar enough with her to understand it."
Sam paused. "In a way, maybe," she said, not as reluctantly as before. What she didn't say was that the planning for their important task helped her simply forget, or forget her fears at least.
There had been other conversation on lighter things, giving Jolinar no time to explain the details of her idea until they all parted for their own business. Sam wondered for a moment how Martouf and Lantash would respond if they knew what she and Jolinar were planning to do, especially so soon after all that had occurred.
*Well, now we may talk,* said Jolinar finally, after a couple brief errands on the base. Sam felt guilty appreciating how she acted as if yesterday's conversation had never happened. *If you remember, we agreed to make contact with the operative on a Goa'uld farming world. As that is a mission of undefined length, it will serve dual purposes.*
~So we do the official one first, then the other, I know,~ said Sam.
*There is one major issue in the general idea of the plan,* admitted Jolinar. *I do not believe that we will be able to take enough time without rousing suspicion to accomplish our rescue of the Abydonians. And, my plan revolves around more lengthy infiltration.*
~So you're saying we'll have to be very careful with how we schedule things,~ said Sam. ~Okay, I can see that. But what exactly is your plan?~
*Quetesh does not have females as slaves, for her preferences lie in other ways when it comes to the service she receives from them,* said Jolinar. *But she does not subject them to lowly servitude as do most System Lords. Instead, she gives the most intelligent of them positions of power over her other slaves, in hopes that their resourcefulness will shine and that they will be less inclined to grow drunk with power and competition.*
~If she's that smart, why isn't she more powerful?~ asked Sam.
*She has always played her cards quietly, waiting for a power vacuum to take control without losing Jaffa,* said Jolinar. *But that will prove useful for us. I intend for us to mingle among the ranks of her Jaffa, eventually finding ourselves a small position where we may learn and watch. Should it prove necessary, we would then be able to influence events towards a feasible rescue.*
~Makes sense,~ said Sam. ~How?~
*We symbiotes cannot tell the difference between the young and old of our kind,* said Jolinar. *Thus, with a contrived symbol and pouch, none could tell the difference if they were not looking.*
~You can fake a pouch?~ asked Sam, impressed.
*For the purposes of a short disguise, certainly,* said Jolinar.
~I can see how that might get tricky if we're having to come back here in between missions,~ said Sam. ~At least it's not a permanent tattoo, right?~
*Correct,* said Jolinar. *I am glad this meets with your approval.*
~Quetesh won't recognize you because of me, right?~ asked Sam.
*Again, correct,* said Jolinar. *The only way our former acquaintance will affect the mission is in giving me a good sense and base of knowledge for what she will do.*
~Last question,~ said Sam, ignoring Jolinar's perhaps purposeful over-statement of the odds. ~Can we kill her?~
Jolinar did not answer for a second, and Sam wondered if she was surprised at the question. At the moment, though, Sam was only thinking of recompense for all that this Goa'uld had screwed up.
*No,* Jolinar answered finally, disappointedly. *We cannot act and affect such a large change in the balance of the System Lords, not yet.*
Sam acknowledged the validity of that, and they moved on to the nitty gritty details. All those times Jolinar had been silent and private with her thoughts, Sam realized, she had been planning this. She knew exactly what she needed and where she needed to get it from and approximately how long it would take. All she needed was to bounce that information off of Sam, and then wait for the opportune moment. And that moment was coming very soon.
ooooooo
Daniel retired to his office soon after breakfast. They were headed out on another mission tomorrow, and he was looking over the MALP information. The planet had appeared uninhabited, but the archaeological remains were immense compared to what they usually found. He couldn't get any details yet, but he wanted to go in with any background he could look up.
As he zoomed in on the one tower structure that was most clear, there was a light ping from his computer. He had mail. Just out of habit, he clicked over to his email program, then blinked. It was from Dr. Jordan. He had not expected anything so soon—even Catherine had not responded yet—so he quickly opened it. There were a couple names he recognized, a couple he didn't, and one near the bottom that had no information attached at all. Curious and thoroughly distracted, he had to call for clarification.
"Um yes, I need to speak to Dr. David Jordan in the Archaeology Department?" said Daniel, holding the phone with his shoulder and going back to the other program to finish the enhancement of the MALP image.
"This is Stephen Rayner, Dr. Jordan's office, what do you need?" came a familiar voice after a couple seconds.
"Stephen," said Daniel, dropping his shoulder to hold the phone with his hand. "I wasn't expecting to hear you—this is Daniel Jackson. I need to reach Dr. Jordan."
"Daniel?" responded Stephen, shocked. "You're kidding, right?"
"I take it he didn't mention my visit," said Daniel. There was no reason for Dr. Jordan to bring it up, as its classified nature would make explanations difficult.
"Of course not—what were you thinking, coming back like this after three years?"
Daniel sighed. He had not wanted to have this conversation. "Stephen, my business is with Dr. Jordan, not you."
"What business? Last I heard, you were lecturing an empty room."
"Well, it wasn't empty when I started, and that was three years ago," said Daniel. "Stephen, I know there was some bad blood between us, but this is a professional matter."
"Really."
"Really."
"Dr. Jordan's not in right now."
"Have him call me back then?" said Daniel.
"If you're trying to ensnare him in one of your conspiracy theories, I'll have none of it," Stephen warned.
"Thank you, Stephen," Daniel sighed, and hung up the phone with a dull thunk. He and Stephen had never been the closest of friends, but apparently any animosity had grown not lessened over the past years. The selfish part of him hoped that any further interactions with Dr. Jordan were Stephen-free, but the logical part of him knew he'd have to deal with the issue sooner or later. Personally, though, he hoped later.
ooooooo
After Jolinar had neatly and covertly obtained all the small things they would need for the mission, she and Sam had caught up with Sha're where she was still confined to her bed. Confined to the infirmary at least, and she took what liberties she could by spending time with Saroosh and Selmak. As Sam and Jolinar walked in on them, Sam quickly surmised that the elder symbiote and host had decided that Sha're was one of the rare few that they could be comfortable with.
"Checkers?" asked Sam, surprised and coming over to marvel.
"So there is a name," said Saroosh, looking up.
"Dan'yel and Skaara were very fond of this game," said Sha're, as Sam drew near to examine the pieces. "They played for many hours, too many sometimes."
"Just be glad he didn't try to teach him chess," said Sam, smiling as she picked up one of the small pieces. The game didn't require much artisanship, but she liked the Tok'ra equivalent that Sha're had somehow gotten made.
"Why?" asked Sha're.
"Oh, it's just a lot more complicated and time consuming," said Sam, putting the little black stone back on the crystalline board. "There are whole books written about the strategies of it." Sam sat down next to Sha're to watch.
"Then you must teach it when you next return," said Saroosh. "It has been some time since I have been asked to exercise my intellect in such a way."
"No, Sam you must not," protested Sha're, but lightly. "It shall not be fair, with my mind so many centuries younger than yours! And you shall not be able to convince me that Selmak is not helping."
Saroosh half snorted. "It is a pittance. Your mind is young and agile, ours so over-full that we will not be able to think clearly."
"So they say," said Sha're, looking to Sam incredulously.
Sam smiled, saying quietly, "I agree."
"Your alliance should frighten me," commented Saroosh. "But never mind, I shall get the game from you soon enough."
Though her tone was light, Sam and Sha're's thoughts did not seem to be so. Sam just hoped she would get the chance eventually, but Sha're looked a little worried.
"Whose turn was it?" asked Saroosh.
"Yours," said Sha're.
"See, young nimble mind," muttered Saroosh.
Sha're managed a smile again.
"Where is Shifu?" asked Sam, confused as she looked around and saw no sign of the child.
"Martouf took him," said Sha're, not looking up.
"Really?" said Sam.
"He was here when I came to visit, and offered to watch him while I taught Saroosh and Selmak the game," said Sha're. She frowned, thinking. "That was some time ago. I did not want to impose for so long." She sighed.
"Hmm, then it is as usual," said Saroosh, making her move. "That man does nothing but find new ways to oblige those he names as friends."
"I can go find him if you want," offered Sam.
"I would like that, if you do not mind," said Sha're, touching Sam's hand as she looked up at her. "It has been nearly an hour, and he will probably need to feed again soon. Shifu, that is."
~Where do you think they went?~ asked Sam as she stood up.
*Probably no further than the nearby corridors,* said Jolinar. *They are vacant at this time in the evening.*
Walking out of the infirmary, Sam glanced down a few hallways before she caught sight of Martouf. He was pacing evenly back and forth, Shifu apparently dozing in his arms. Sam had half expected to see him rocking the baby, but maybe that was more of a human thing to do.
"Sha're's wondering where you are," said Sam as she walked up to him. "She's a bit miffed it took her this long to notice."
Martouf smiled. "I am not displeased then."
Shifu had turned his head floppily towards Sam at the sound of her voice, and she smiled at his wide-eyed look. "I didn't realize you knew how to deal with children," she said, putting up her finger for Shifu to grip with his tiny hand.
"I did not, before today," admitted Martouf. "But they are very fascinating."
"Fascinating?" said Sam, looking up from Shifu to Martouf.
"I do not remember them at all," said Martouf, a little sheepishly at Sam's look.
"Yes, I remember Selmak talking about how there are no children among the Tok'ra," said Sam. "I'd use the word cute, personally," she added, in a sudden moment of honesty.
"I'll try to remember that," said Martouf with a slight smile. "Do you wish to hold him?" he asked, as Shifu smiled at Sam and as she couldn't help but smile back.
Sam hesitated for a moment, but took him up on the offer. Shifu was smaller than he looked, and being only a week old had little strength in his muscles. As she took him into a cradle hold, he seemed to meld against her, all warm and soft. He didn't move or make noise, just looked up at her face, pondering in his infant way. His blanket being mussed, Sam took a second to support him with one arm while wrapping him a little more neatly with the other.
After that moment of silence Lantash spoke. "Martouf thinks it an awkward question, and perhaps to his mother it would be, but I hope you will understand—this is strange to us. How do you know how to react to him, what he will respond to?"
*I must agree, this is beyond my understanding,* commented Jolinar in an undertone.
"What do you mean exactly?" asked Sam, bemused and confused all at once.
"The way you are swaying," said Lantash, nodding towards her. "And the smile, and the way you let him hold your finger, the way you wrap him, how you hold him so that he can see your face."
Sam's brow furrowed for a second. She hadn't noticed she was even doing all that. Looking down at Shifu, she thought for a moment, then looked back up. "I'm not sure," she said. "I'm not an anthropologist or psychologist, but some of it seems to be instinctual. The rest—well, on Earth everyone has seen a baby or someone caring for one."
"How did you learn?" asked Lantash. "Are there children born even in your military?"
"No, but I wasn't always in the military," said Sam, brow furrowing again. "I had friends whose mothers had more children, and even recently my brother and his wife had two kids that I got to hold."
Lantash nodded, taking in the information. Sam had to smile to herself; this was by far the oddest conversation, and yet strangely endearing.
*Samantha,* said Jolinar quietly. *I must admit, experiencing how you feel for this child who is not your own is an experience like none I have had before.*
~Sorry,~ said Sam. ~Didn't mean to disrupt you.~
*Do not apologize,* said Jolinar. *It is...amazing, in its way.*
Sam looked back up to where Martouf and Lantash were. "I guess you're not the only ones," she said.
"Jolinar?" said Martouf, now back in control.
"Yes," said Sam. "She is finding this a learning experience."
Martouf had a quick smile of appreciation. "For all our stiff words, we also are intrigued," he said. "It seems—most beautiful. Even we felt a slight sense of peace we could not explain while holding the child."
"That sounds about right," said Sam, thinking about all that this conversation had opened up. Then she looked back down at Shifu. "I suppose you're getting tired of all this talk, aren't you?" she said to him. "Come on, let's get you to your mother."
After returning Shifu to Sha're, who thanked Martouf and Lantash and in the same breath chastised them for burdening themselves with her baby for so long, Sam and Jolinar had to disengage their minds from the quiet and the domestic.
Pushing back the questions and answers about how human the Tok'ra really were, Sam joined Jolinar in focusing on their next task.
*Tomorrow is the start of a long mission, and though it will be longer than they realize, Martouf and Lantash will wish to continue our tradition,* Jolinar said. *That is still acceptable?*
~Of course,~ said Sam. ~I've had the luxury of a bed for a while now, so one extra night without one won't hurt.~
That being settled, Jolinar retired to their chamber and spent the rest of the evening putting all their supplies together. Apart from the usual, of course, she put in a bottle of black dye for the tattoo and a small container with supplies to mimic the shape of a Jaffa symbiote pouch. Sam had a remained a little sceptic when she saw that it only consisted of a malleable rubber-like substance, various paints and a kind of jelly, but she decided to wait until they put it to use. The rest of accoutrements for a Jaffa, such as the armor and staff weapon, would have to be found off world.
And then, not forgetting that they had more than one goal, they went over the first mission. The official one.
*It's relatively simple,* Jolinar said. *Our operative is deep within Goa'uld territory, but doing research instead of spying, acquiring what he needs from the Goa'uld.*
~I got that from the briefing,~ said Sam. ~But how can it be simple if we have to get that deep? Won't they sense you?~
*Not if we stay out of the way,* said Jolinar. *Not only is the sense muted if you are not paying attention to it, but it is affected by distance. I do not intend on putting you in danger by getting that close.*
~Oh sure, my life is the only thing worth protecting,~ snarked Sam. ~You're lucky I don't tell Martouf and Lantash about all these comments of yours.~
*I am not reckless with my life,* protested Jolinar. *Not unless it's necessary. I have much to die for, but much to live for as well.*
~I'll say,~ answered Sam. She sighed. ~Just how confident are you on this mission?~
Jolinar grew even less frivolous, if that was possible. *I remember Quetesh. I believe I know how she thinks. And I will not let any possibility of success go by because of risk or sacrifice involved, if you are in agreement.*
Sam agreed silently, then added, ~On we go, then.~
That night, Jolinar resting gently in Martouf and Lantash's arms as they sat together on the sand, Sam understood why Jolinar cherished these moments. It wasn't just because of the love she had for them, although Sam was no longer surprised at the strength of her symbiote's emotions when they rose to the surface, but because this symbolized a break from the calm reality of the Tok'ra base to the edgier and dangerous world beyond. Jolinar was uncomfortable here, not knowing how to live domestically but feeling that she should and wishing she could. Sam had the strong impression that every night spent like this, a small part of Jolinar wanted it to be the last night where it felt like stepping through the gate to another universe just to go on a mission. And in many ways, Sam understood.