Chapter 25 - Covert
Sam and Jolinar never found out if they had caused a fuss. The morning was spent in Jolinar fashioning a makeshift pouch-looking mark on her stomach, rubber substitute, slime, body paint and all. By the time it was over, Sam was a little grossed out, but saw that as a good sign. The tattoo came next, and though Jolinar had to draw the transfer backwards, it turned out beautifully. Besides, after the chain mail and sheet mail armor was on, it was a minor detail. Jaffa armor was heavy, and Sam was once again glad for Jolinar's extra strength. The form fitting helmet did its job, with Sam's hair just peeking out from under the edge.
After strapping the staff weapon to her back, Jolinar followed a straight path back to the gate, staying far away from any real Jaffa. This disguise was just as dangerous as not having one, for this was most definitely not a world of Quetesh. There appeared to be no hunt out for them, not yet anyway, and they reached the gate in good time. Jolinar dialed a new address, and waited for the chevrons to lock.
*For this mission, we will have to be inconspicuous at first. I will admit, it is not my strength. Going unseen or showing power, those are no difficult tasks, but I may need your help here.*
~Mine?~ asked Sam.
*You served under a hierarchy, did you not?~ asked Jolinar. *How subordinates speak to superiors is not in my vocabulary.*
~You can't expect me to take the lead, though~ said Sam.
*I only wish you were well acquainted with Jaffa culture to do so,* said Jolinar. *As it is, we will have to work together. You will send me what you think our response should be, and I will try to translate if necessary.*
~Right,~ said Sam. ~We'll see how that works, won't we.~
*We have no other choice,* said Jolinar.
The gate activated, and they walked through.
It was late morning on this planet, and the gate faced pure east. Through the golden glare of bright sun, though, they saw that the gate was on a rocky ridge overlooking a valley in the midst of mountains and ridges. The terrain was half rock and half mountainous grass and brush. The altitude change gave Sam a moment of discomfort in her ears before Jolinar adjusted things.
A few Jaffa stood near the gate, but seeing Jolinar they let their staff weapons rest and nodded.
*This planet is well-trafficked,* commented Jolinar as she nodded in response before walking off.
Sam followed Jolinar's eyes as she took everything in. No sign of rigid order, not even of any organized schedule. ~We won't be in danger yet,~ said Sam. ~Look at how relaxed everything is.~
*They are not expecting important visitors,* said Jolinar. *Good, good.*
Staff weapon held high, Jolinar walked down the path from the gate towards civilization.
~Just a note,~ said Sam. ~When we do come across someone of higher rank, you'll have to lower your stance a little and not act like you own the place. I don't think it matters now, though.~
Jolinar acknowledged the fact silently and continued her trek.
The set-up of this village was highly militarized, with only the obvious barracks being larger than the general tents and temporary housing. No grand houses, no slave quarters, this was a Jaffa-only planet. Looking around, one had to assume that they got all their supplies through the gate. In fact, they would have to get everything through the gate. This was the Jaffa equivalent of a cul-de-sac, or a foxhole.
The population was large, however, and so Jolinar had no fear that they could blend in. Women and children were around in some numbers, and a few female Jaffa were visible. There seemed to be a lot of waiting around for orders, though, which served Sam and Jolinar's purpose perfectly.
Quetesh appeared well aware of the needs of her Jaffa, or perhaps they were just rebellious, but there was a tavern in the midst of the village run by the only human slaves visible on the planet. Sam instructed Jolinar to shuffle just a tiny bit as she entered, and curl her shoulders just slightly as she sat down. It might have looked out of place for any other warrior, but Jolinar's tall stance merely looked average when given such corrections. Sam was well pleased when not a head turned to look at them.
After ordering a drink, Jolinar practiced the universal trick of watching people in a room while pretending to be focused on one's food and drink. Jaffa went in and out, talked over tables, drank but not to excess, and in all things kept themselves relaxed without overt laziness. Sometimes, looking out the window, Jolinar kept an eye on the rest of things. She could see the gate, and noticed Jaffa going back and forth around it without it activating.
*Very low key,* she finally commented.
Sam suggested eventually that Jolinar lean on her table, closing her stance just a little more for privacy's sake. She knew from experience that it would keep people of Earth away, and was pretty sure that Jaffa weren't different enough to change that fact. Sure enough, only the slaves running the tavern were there long enough to see that Sam and Jolinar stayed for several hours straight.
Nothing happened. Nothing. Happened. The day came and went without the least sign of any progress. Later in the evening, Jolinar took a walk around the civilization, looking into the barracks. There were plenty of bunks that were unslept in, validating their conclusion that this was not a permanently settled community. There would be a free bed tonight, no questions asked.
Night came, the tavern grew full, and Sam and Jolinar stayed outside. This day was meant to be wasted as they blended in, and they weren't ready to face a crowd. The moon was high in the sky before most of the population was in bed, and Jolinar made her first move. Making her way towards the gate, she saw only one Jaffa.
*Small talk, perhaps?* asked Jolinar.
~I assume Jaffa have a lowest-rank-does-watch type system?~ asked Sam in answer.
*So far as I've seen, yes,* said Jolinar.
~Offer to take his place after a few words, then,~ advised Sam. ~They obviously aren't worried about intruders here, so he won't be suspicious, and it's easily explainable.~
Jolinar agreed.
"Watching the stars and not the gate?" Jolinar asked, walking easily up to the Jaffa.
He glanced down. "Of course," he said, and despite his tone Jolinar assumed it was a half-joke. "You have nothing more so important to do?"
"None," acknowledged Jolinar. "I am looking for something to set my mind to, however."
"You will find no such inspiration from me," confessed the Jaffa. "I am in no such focused mood."
"Then perhaps you should postpone your watch until you have found your focus," said Jolinar, giving him a look even in the dim light of the lamp. "Go, eat, drink if you must—I will take the watch."
The Jaffa nodded his thanks, and moved off.
*Ah yes, success,* said Jolinar. *He may be back in a couple hours, but no matter.*
~Do you ever feel strange, going to all these planets where day and night are on different schedules?~ asked Sam. ~It feels like evening to me, not night.~
*That is expected,* said Jolinar. *It is clear that your culture is new to star-travel if you still think thus.*
~Actually, I had almost forgotten it,~ said Sam. ~I was just wondering why he didn't seem curious about your alertness this late, and then wondered if he expected it with the traffic you say this planet gets.~
*You are learning quickly, then,* said Jolinar. *A correct assumption. But also, among the Jaffa there is no suspicion; they are brothers. Unless the rumor of the shol'va is rampant, but that is rare among the more minor Goa'ulds.*
~What, you can't call him Teal'c?~ asked Sam.
*Don't take offense, but that is a perfectly good word that the Goa'uld just use as an insult.*
~I don't remember him thinking that way, but it doesn't matter,~ said Sam. ~So now, we continue on the same line?~
*Yes. We should hope that the next call of duty is not for a couple days, so that we may integrate ourselves with it.*
~This shouldn't work,~ commented Sam. ~It's too...doesn't anyone know all their troops?~
*Not even close, that is your Earth side talking again,* said Jolinar. *With deaths and conversions happening so often, trying to keep records is insane.*
Sam nodded, and watched the gate. Jaffa did not need to sleep, and so the guard shift went on for many more hours. Finally they were replaced at dawn, and Jolinar found it difficult to suppress a yawn as they retired to the barracks. They received no odd looks, no questions, no notice at all. Sam had a brief moment where she smirked to herself about being a secret agent like her dreams as a little girl, but the sight of the slaves serving the Jaffa quickly brought her around to remembering exactly why she was there. And there was nothing glamorous about it.
ooooooo
Over the next two days, Sam and Jolinar found their task of integration to be relatively easy. Jolinar informed Sam that Ba'al was known for his unorthodox methods of controlling his troops, such as giving them liberties and freedoms instead of crushing down any possibility of rebellion, and Quetesh seemed to have caught on. But perhaps, Sam and Jolinar both thought, not quite as effectively.
At least on this world, the standards were lax. There were three small shipments over both days, and little order or timing at all onto how they were dealt with. Children played in the streets even as the Jaffa marched past in formation, sometimes having to stop and let particularly brash ones get out of the way. Technically they were all ready for one word from their master to move out, but in reality the section of them that were drunk, sleeping, or otherwise incapacitated due to sparring or lovemaking, were enough to make assembling any considerable force nigh impossible on short notice. Thankfully for them, it wasn't called for.
And thankfully for Sam and Jolinar, that meant free flowing liquor and all that went along with it. To keep from getting drunk herself, Jolinar allowed Sam to take control the following night to "socialize" while she stayed back and put forth most of her effort into neutralizing the alcohol Sam imbibed.
"You heard o' that rebellion they talk about?" slurred the Jaffa, a younger man who nevertheless was perfectly professional even when three sheets to the wind. "The one that says we oughta be free."
"Yeah, yeah I have," said Sam, keeping it low key.
"They don't know what they're goin' on about," continued the Jaffa, leaning against the bar from atop his stool. "What're they goin' to do with it? Right now we got a good life, 'n' our lord Quetesh doesn't go for a lot o' war and conquest. She doesn't worry about us 'cause she doesn't have to, why would we want to leave and have to fight?"
"Shol'vas don't know what they're doing, do they?" agreed Sam, downing another sip of the overly sweet ale offered here.
"Oh, they can fight Apophis or Sokar, but it won't do 'em any good when our lord takes 'em all out from within," said the Jaffa confidently, even as his eyes crossed when looking at his drink.
"Right," said Sam, nodding and thinking.
"She already beat out Ba'al for some world and he doesn't even know," finished the Jaffa.
*Excellent, now we have confirmation,* said Jolinar from deep in the back of Sam's mind.
Sam nodded, and her Jaffa companion turned to someone else. ~This is very interesting,~ she commented, finishing off her mug. ~I wasn't really a beer person at home, just wanted to get drunk sometimes...I don't ever remember being able to taste beer after drinking this much.~
*Interesting for you, perhaps,* said Jolinar, less than indulgently. *You have no idea how much physiological change goes on with every gulp of that vile stuff.*
~One, I'm not gulping, two, it was for our mission, and three, what would happen if you didn't do anything? Would you get drunk?~
*I am connected to your mind; if you begin destroying it, flooding it with poison, I must withdraw physically or submit to being affected,* said Jolinar.
~Anti-alcohol, are we?~ commented Sam, choosing not to refill her mug. ~It's mainly a social thing, so that doesn't altogether surprise me. And I suppose if I had the choice to get drunk or not, knowing what it would do to me...~
*Think instead of what you would think if you understood down to the minute detail exactly what it does to your mind and body,* said Jolinar.
Sam had to admit, she thought she understood. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten truly smashed, actually. A few times offworld she'd let herself go a little, but never getting more than a little tipsy. It hadn't been since her true military days, hanging out with the guys and gals at her post just like now. It wasn't nearly as enjoyable when you lacked the actually drunken part—drunk people made more sense when you were just as far gone as they were.
As Jolinar did not hesitate to remind Sam, though, retaining sobriety of body and emotion was necessary. Through the tavern, Jolinar had become a recognized face for several Jaffa among the lower ranks, but through careful leaking of information had managed to almost retain anonymity. The next stage, which she was just about to begin, was to gain just enough notice among the officers.
Jolinar knew what she had to do, she just wasn't sure of the best details. Sam rolled her eyes, saying, ~Believe me, I know how to kiss ass.~
Despite the relative chaos of this world, a sense of order was never fully lost. Not only were their regular training exercises, but duties were carried out, if a little later than immediately. The barracks were maintained, the supplies stored as they were brought through the gate, and little details carried out. Sam advised Jolinar to start volunteering herself for some of the smaller detail jobs, silently not openly, keeping her head just low enough to make it seem like she wasn't trying to get noticed.
So they picked up tables after a bar brawl, rearranged the armory after the organization grew a little lax, refilled the oil lamps by the guard post at the gate, and generally kept the peace whenever necessary. Next they would move on to helping with the shipments through the gate, but not too soon. Nothing would be worse than making their move too soon.
ooooooo
Considering that their last mission had only been three days ago, and their next was little more than routine exploration in a few days, Daniel was quite surprised to get a call for a morning briefing. So surprised, that he promptly forgot when the morning actually came, and was caught in the mess hall by Siler.
"Uh, Dr. Jackson, aren't you supposed to be in the briefing room?"
Spilling some of his coffee on the folder he was carrying as he tried to look at his watch, Daniel cursed to himself in three languages, grasped for a napkin, and tried to clean up on his way to the stairs. No elevator today—even while multitasking Daniel could speed up the stairs.
Even the general had arrived when Daniel stumbled up the last stairs, coffee and stained napkin in one hand and a slightly limp folder in the other, glasses a tad askew on his nose. "Sorry," he muttered, taking his seat and stuffing the napkin in his pocket. The general was always late, which just meant that Daniel was later.
Hammond, who had been sitting with his elbows propped on the table, chin resting on his clasped hands, sat up and cleared his throat. "Now we may open up this briefing."
"Excuse me," said Mckay, raising one hand. "Where is our agenda?"
"This isn't your normal mission briefing," said Hammond. "This is a pre-mission briefing, no agenda yet."
"Aren't our normal briefings pre-mission because they happen before the mission?" continued Mckay.
"It's not my terminology, Doctor," said Hammond shortly. "So let's just move on."
"This isn't about P2R-415 is it?" asked Dixon.
"No and yes," said Hammond. "That mission was given to SG-5, and you've been given theirs, as you were informed. This was an advisory note sent down from people higher up than me, just considering the possibilities of the mission. This briefing is not about either of those missions, but that decision is related."
"Well, if question time is over," said Jack, glancing between Mckay and Dixon across the table, "maybe we can hear what this is all about?"
"P2R-415 was a Goa'uld planet," said Hammond. "The MALP was considerably well received, and it was determined a reasonable risk for an experienced SG team to handle. However, we did not take into account the scheduling of an important mission only a few days afterwards, which you, SG-1, are required to take part in. Not knowing how long the other mission would take, we decided against the gamble."
Mckay was the only one who looked confused.
"Important mission—you mean to kidnap Jolinar," said Jack.
"You're correct, Colonel," said Hammond. "A request was made to discuss well in advance what the situation and tactics relating to that mission are, and I saw no reason to refuse."
"Request?" asked Daniel.
"That would be mine," came a voice from just below the top of the stairs.
They all turned to see as a man leaning on a cane entered the room. Despite his shuffling steps, he fit his general's uniform well, and Daniel felt immediately impressed by the inner strength he saw emanating from the man. Beneath his bald head, he sent a piercing gaze to them all.
"Jacob, glad you could make it," said Hammond, nodding to him. "Gentlemen, this is General Jacob Carter."
"Carter, as in...?" began Mckay, as Jack and Dixon stood in salute.
"Samantha's father, yes," said Jacob, taking a seat next to Hammond.
Daniel was surprised, but held it in, wondering exactly what this could be about. This was Sam's father who had cancer, right? He certainly looked it, but why be here then?
"Jacob, this is the SG-1 that I told you about," said Hammond. "Dr. Daniel Jackson, Colonel Jack O'Neill, Teal'c, Dr. Rodney Mckay, and Major David Dixon."
"An honor, gentlemen," said Jacob, indicating that the military men should sit.
"I didn't think you had clearance, sir," commented Jack as he took his seat.
"A good assumption, Colonel," said Jacob. "But when Hammond said that all he could tell me was that my daughter was in enemy hands, I made it my duty to get that clearance." He smiled grimly. "If you bug enough people about something that you shouldn't know about, they start to get worried about security and will do anything to keep you silent. My position meant they couldn't get rid of me, so there was only one alternative. Of course, I think they're assuming I'll be pushing daisies long before I become a risk," he added with a sardonic look.
"So you're the one who called in this briefing?" asked Daniel.
"I advised that it should take place, yes," said Jacob.
"And I agreed with him," said Hammond. "Jacob's an old friend of mine, and I trust his judgment."
"I've been briefed on the reports of what happened, both when this first started and the recent events on—where was it—Abydos?" said Jacob. He glanced to Hammond, who nodded, and leaned forward a little in his chair while lowering his voice just enough to be confidential. "Gentlemen, I'm not going to rest in peace until I see my daughter again, and I don't care what tactics you have to use. I'm not going to live long enough to get another chance at this. If this mission fails..." he trailed off meaningfully, looking at each of the team one by one.
Jack nodded.
"We understand, sir," said Daniel, as no one else seemed to have anything to say.
"Good," said Jacob, sitting back up and speaking in his previous, sharper, military tone. "Now, if I'm correct, you believe the evidence points to this parasite called Jolinar having influenced Sam, not just taken over her body."
"That's what I believe, yes," said Daniel, jumping in before Jack could protest.
"I must ask—why?" said Jacob, confused curiosity mingling with the interrogation in his voice.
"I'm a linguist, general, and I was a very close friend of your daughter's," said Daniel, finding it a little disconcerting to look Jacob Carter in the eye, but holding the eyeline anyways. "I saw no absolute sign of trickery in our meeting on Abydos, which led me to believe she—Sam—was sincere. But," he added, looking to Jack, "the attack on Abydos seemed to make plain that however sincere, her judgment has been compromised and perhaps overcome by Jolinar."
"As would be expected," said Jacob. "An assumption still, Dr. Jackson, but it doesn't come from nowhere. You're assuming Stockholm Syndrome?"
Daniel nodded.
"The research all points to a very close tie between the minds of symbiote and host," Mckay put in. "I don't see how anyone could resist."
Daniel chewed on the inside of his lip, not wanting to jump in on a mostly irrelevant point, but needing to say to himself at least that if the enemy wasn't trying to convince or persuade, resistance should be possible. Amonet wasn't trying to use Sha're, she just wanted her body.
"When we get her back, I've noticed you don't have a plan," said Jacob. "As the doctor says, this isn't your normal brainwashing."
"It would not seem wise to focus on the end without first addressing how to get to that end," said Teal'c.
"Exactly," said Jacob, nodding his approval to Teal'c's quiet figure near the end of the table. "That's why we're here."
The team readjusted themselves in their seats, now understanding why they had been brought together.
"I don't mean to be disrespectful," began Dixon, "but what's wrong with a simple stunning?"
Daniel shook his head. "She had a personal shield last time."
"So we use a tranq dart," said Jack. "If arrows work, surely those would."
"Wait, wait," said Mckay. He had been sitting back, looking a little bored, but now jumped right in. "Carter's a scientist and if she really is cooperating, she would remember that we know that fact."
Dixon sighed. "He's right, she might have thought of that, modified the shield."
"So we bypass it altogether," said Jacob, and the team turned to look at him. "This shield won't block hands, will it?"
"No," said Mckay. "That's not the point of it."
"So someone gets near to her, needle hidden up the sleeve..." said Jacob.
"I don't know about that," said Daniel, brow furrowed, clenching and unclenching his hand as he thought. "Jolinar was very cautious; I don't think she'd let Sam get too close to any of us. Or maybe Sam wouldn't want to, now."
"You think she might suspect treachery?" asked Jacob.
"We can't know, that's the problem," said Dixon.
"We do have one thing on our side," said Teal'c. "The bond between a parent and child is very close, and even enemies find it almost insurmountable. I do not believe Jolinar would think to try."
"You mean me, right?" said Jacob. "She doesn't know that I'm involved—she doesn't even know I have cancer."
"Indeed," said Teal'c, nodding to him.
"So what, we have the general go up to her and tranq her?" asked Mckay, slightly incredulous. "That's our plan?"
"That thing isn't going to be all sunshine and roses about this, you know," spoke up Jack, who had been frowning ever since the discussion started. "How do we know she won't just shoot as soon as anything gets fishy?"
"That's a good point," agreed Daniel. "Bringing you in, sir," he said, looking to Jacob, "won't seem natural if there's no explanation."
"So tell her I need to see her one last time," said Jacob. "The reason for this meeting is to arrange some kind of treaty or alliance, right? It wouldn't be lying to say I wanted to use it as my last chance to see her, since she's not coming home yet."
"Okay, two very big issues with this plan," said Mckay, sitting up straight and putting out two fingers for emphasis. "First—they can heal, so why not just shoot her? Incapacitated immediately. Have marines go through the gate and fire on sight."
"And after her armor deflects it she opens fire with much better weapons," said Jack, his voice sharp as a needle poking Mckay's idea bubble.
"Okay, but what about this one?" continued Mckay unfazed. "What if this is all just a trap, and this Jolinar doesn't need Sam anymore?"
"We'll prepare for an ambush, Dr. Mckay," said Jacob, in an obvious tone.
"What if Jolinar pretends to be Sam long enough to put a real ambush into place? These are Goa'uld, you don't know what kind of resources they have," said Mckay.
"Simple," said Hammond finally. "If it is an ambush, she'll be expecting bigger names than SG-1. We send you through the gate first, you exchange a few words to make sure of what we're doing. Then, Jacob walks through. She can't break cover by not acting like Captain Carter, so she'll have to play along with Jacob for a little while."
"And by that point it'll all be over," said Jack with a nod.
"Just in case, we can have a team of marines ready to go through at a moment's notice," said Dixon. "She can't dial out, then."
"While we wear bulletproof vests," added Jack.
Jacob nodded at the two. "Not quite foolproof, as I'm sure our doctor friend was about to say, but reasonable."
"Actually, I was going to say it sounds better than most of our mission plans," murmured Mckay.
"Thank you gentlemen, briefing closed," said Hammond. "We'll reconvene on this issue next week, then. Jacob?"
"I can make my own way, George," nodded Jacob, not standing up.
Hammond nodded and stood to retire to his office.
There was silence and stillness around the table, and no one seemed ready to break the circle by leaving.
"So you were a team," commented Jacob quietly, hands resting on the table instead of his lap. "A close one?"
"Indeed," said Teal'c, surprising Daniel as he said at the same time, "Yes."
"We didn't know Captain Carter before," said Dixon, indicating himself and Mckay. "It was a four-man team originally."
Jacob nodded. "From reading the mission reports, I expected you to be a lot less resigned to the situation," he said. "But I would never have tried negotiating with a parasitic life form at all, no matter who they took. It's well that you've since realized what needs to be done."
"It wasn't weakness, sir," spoke up Daniel in defense of their actions. "We didn't—still don't—have a way to save Sam, and we were hoping we wouldn't have to." He sighed. "To be honest, it feels like we're not giving her enough credit even now."
"Maybe I'm just new to all this, but in my military we show our men our trust and respect by not letting the enemy distract us from the point," said Jacob. "You get them out, and you don't worry about whether their feelings are hurt; your determination to save them shows enough."
Daniel half-smiled to himself—it was obvious that Jacob was a father, the way he spoke to Daniel. And he was probably right, for most of the military that was true. Daniel just wondered if Sam was military enough.
"Well, my medical care transfered with my clearance, so I will be seeing more of this base than I ever thought I would," said Jacob, changing the subject. "Despite George, I expect to be very impressed, considering how much money is going into this place."
"Of course, sir," said Jack dryly.
Jacob rose, still a little unsteady, and walked across the room and down the stairs.
"So, we're going on an easy mission next," said Jack. "Joy."
Apparently everyone had decided to leave all the heavy topics they'd discussed in the briefing room, and frankly Daniel didn't mind. As Jack, Dixon, and Mckay rose to go back to their own work, he paused, considering Jack's words. Easy mission...routine exploration...he wondered if Dr. Jordan would like to come along for that one. He'd noticed the signs of life on the planet mentioned in the planet description; this might be the only chance for a while where he could let his old professor get off world. It wasn't every day they got a boring, safe mission.
—
Author's Notes: If the SGC's logic seems just a bit off…there's a couple reasons for that, both of which will be addressed in the future.
Also, there's no solid evidence on how the Goa'uld and Jaffa are organized, so much of what you see here is guesswork. Though I did abandon a couple indications from canon because they seemed only to be there due to budget/writing constrictions.
Happy holidays everyone! Due to holiday plans, the next chapter may be a day or two late, but things should be back to their regular schedule after that.