Compromised

by Ivanolix

Sam and Jolinar escape the ashrak, but leave the SGC in a lurch and themselves with all the cards stacked against them in a hostile galaxy. Gen. AU off In the Line of Duty. Sam and team centric.

42. Gathering

Chapter 41 - Gathering

Quetesh did not leave her temple either during the rest of the day, during the night, nor even the next morning. There were calls for various foods, but she did not stir. Sam and Jolinar both found themselves speculating on her intentions and goals on this planet. It wasn't just routine inspection—or that would be the strangest answer available.

Taking a gamble, Sam ordered the people back onto the road work. Quetesh had made comment of it, and as she wasn't here to see there was no worry of being too conspicuous with their worry. Technically, they should all be ready and waiting for the next command of their god. But Jolinar was going to match shrewd with shrewd when it came to Quetesh, and Sam had a gut feeling that it would turn out the best outcome.

It seemed that Jolinar, though still overwhelmed by all the information needed to be shared across their partial blending, was more calm than usual. Partly they had grown accustomed to this role, but Sam also felt the joy of being outside in the sun, even if it bore down on them in strength. And though Sam could spend days indoors and hardly blink, the exhilaration she had always felt in the outdoors blended with Jolinar's feeling of it being her natural place, and she couldn't even tell that their two views had ever been unblended. The mission was good if only for this.

Now that the day-to-day knowledge had been absorbed enough that they could give more of their focus, the road was coming together with much more ease. The mud was deep, but the silt washed down from the mountains had brought it to a more manageable level. It didn't take much to level the road down, press in the gravel, and smooth it out flat. Another quarter mile was laid, and Sam started to envision the paving stones needed and the gutters along the sides. Would they even be here that long, she asked herself, not expecting an answer.

The day passed, and as the road curved down towards the fields Sam looked out on their flooded state. No farming could be done, and so she had recruited those slaves for the road, but she would have to deal with it in a few days. The fields were level enough, and most of the water would be absorbed without draining off the precious silt that kept the fields fertile. But even so, this amount of flooding had destroyed some of the plants, and from all the records it wasn't rare. Sam was just waiting for the chance to map it out completely, put a grid of irrigation ditches just shallow enough to let the floods do their work.

Looking back to the road after her thoughts, Sam saw a Jaffa glance up to the temple. Following his gaze, she saw Quetesh standing on the balcony, a small figure from that far off. Sam saw her stand and look down for a minute, and then turn and go back inside. They didn't see her the rest of the day.

The houses in the settlement were fully repaired by day's end, and as Sam walked past towards her own quarters, all seemed well again. Jolinar had given her no doubt that while Quetesh herself had remained absent, her Jaffa's sharp eyes were on Coron's every move. But strangely, Sam didn't fear their report. Today had gone too well for that.

She almost had a moment to find it strange that Jolinar was always there in her mind, and yet Sam didn't note her thoughts. As if it was too natural to know what was in her mind, even though she didn't. Recently, it felt as if she should.

Morning brought a sudden end to the ambiguity, and the weather only aided the mood. Sam and Jolinar became uncomfortably roused from sleep by the ambient heat that was oven-like in its pressure. It was almost difficult to breathe in the weight of the air, and they emerged into the rising sun with no relief. Smothering and humid, Sam thought that it must forebode something. Jolinar seemed about to object, as Sam expected she would. However:

"Our lord is awaiting your presence." Sam spun around to see one of Quetesh's Jaffa speaking to her.

"Understood," she answered automatically, then bit the inside of her lip as the Jaffa left. ~Damn, did we forget something like that?~

*No, this is just another trick, get us off our mark by asserting all the control. Still, we are expected immediately.*

Sam nodded, letting Jolinar take them swiftly up the hill to Quetesh's court again. The armor weighed them down, and a tiny rivulet of sweat ran from Sam's brow down behind her ear but she couldn't deal with it. The air emanating from the temple, however, was cool and light—at least relative to everywhere else. Jolinar took a deep breath before entering the inner court.

Quetesh was lounged in her magnificent throne, its size unable to exactly dwarf the tall woman with her even taller headdress wrapped in her dark hair. Up on the dais, this was the position of a vengeful god, not a manipulative one. Sam and Jolinar inwardly hesitated, not knowing what to expect. Quetesh's face was unreadable, her eyes dark beneath the glory surrounding her.

"Coron, you did not see me immediately upon this morning," she said, voice reverberating throughout the chamber.

*She knows she did not call for us,* Jolinar said to herself and to Sam, words flying through her mind faster than Sam could see until she let them out after a second's pause. "My lord, there is only one whose mind is infallible, and thus I cannot promise absolute perfection in my service."

Too excusing? Too groveling? Jolinar's misgivings aligned perfectly with Sam's for a few seconds, until Quetesh's lip twitched.

"Come forward, Coron, and kneel before your god," Quetesh ordered, her hand flicking out without leaving the arm rest.

Jolinar did not breathe out in relief, merely took the few steps forward to the bottom of the stairs that led to the dais, putting one knee down as quietly as possible in the heavy armor. Her head didn't stay bowed, but looked up to Quetesh's knees, bold but not blasphemous.

"Lord Ba'al knows little of this world," Quetesh continued, and the subject struck like a wild bolt of lightning from a crystal sky. "As he knows little of so many others, with his mind on those who hold undeserved power and might."

Jolinar barely blinked, and Sam and her remembered their first encounter with the goddess.

"Of the worlds that I have tried to wrest from his hands, he retained all in the first round, save one," Quetesh continued. "Unfortunately, the slaves are taking some time to gain their senses, but my success had its desired goal. I took on further worlds, and have shown Ba'al for the inferior being he is."

Jolinar nodded, still looking below Quetesh's face. *She is clever, but Ba'al may not be as foolish as she thinks.*

"In the end, he will open his eyes, even if I have to force realization upon him," said Quetesh after a pause. "And when that day comes, he will bear down upon this world with his force. You have made progress, but this place will not serve its purpose on that day unless fully finished. Look at me."

Jolinar looked up, and Quetesh looked back down, the same strange intensity in her face from last night, though it played differently in this formal chamber.

"Coron, I will not see failure in your future," she said, tone steely. "Finish my temple, and strip this world of resources. When the day of reckoning comes, roads must be looked back upon with everything but regret."

"It will be so," Jolinar acknowledged without thought, her mind far from obedience at the moment.

"Many more will be coming to this world soon," Quetesh finished with a lighter emphasis. "All will be ready for them?"

Jolinar nodded, and Sam knew they were both thinking of the Abydonians.

"Then you are dismissed."

With a bow, Jolinar removed herself quickly. *I should have known that this would be dangerous...* she thought.

ooooooo

"Ow, ow, ow!" Mckay whimpered, shaking the one hand he could.

Daniel didn't make a comment, just waited for him to get out of the driver's seat. Mckay's insistence that he could at least steer with his injured hand had been expectedly short-lived.

"Don't take the corners too fast," Mckay said, sitting gingerly in the passenger's seat, hand hugged close to his chest. "This thing is an antique, but it's not your kind of old."

"I do live in the same century you do, Rodney," reminded Daniel.

"Sure you do." Mckay followed his comment with a grimace as the car jerked into reverse.

With a little less than a week until their next mission, Mckay was still not fully recovered. Janet was on him about health, Brymon about therapy, but even the formidable pair together couldn't deny that he should be fine by himself. Daniel had been surprised when Mckay said he was willing to get off pain meds for a chance to escape the infirmary, but then again, Daniel thought that he probably liked the people on the base more than Mckay.

"This is so pathetic," Mckay said as Daniel pulled out of the base parking lot. Mckay had printed out directions to his apartment, not wanting to have to give constant feedback to Daniel.

"You don't live that far off, it's an easy trip," Daniel said, shrugging.

"Yeah, but there's a reason I don't carpool, and it's not just because I work at a top secret base," said Mckay. "You have no idea how unreliable even the seemingly most consistent people can be."

Daniel said nothing, taking the first set of corners at a much slower pace than usual and feeling the pull. This car did not ride well.

"How are you getting to your place after you drop me off?" asked Mckay after a second's pause.

"Walk," said Daniel. "It's only a couple miles to my place."

Mckay turned and looked at him with the face he normally showed to aliens. "How did you pretend to be sane enough to get this job?"

Daniel's mouth twitched into a smirk. "You haven't read the files, have you?"

"No, why?" Mckay asked, suddenly curious.

"Oh, I got this job precisely because I was the right kind of insane." Daniel pulled the car into Mckay's apartment lot, easing back so there would be no jerk as he parked. "Jack did too, actually."

"You could have mentioned that during the pitch, saved a lot of trouble," muttered Mckay as Daniel opened his door.

"Why, you wouldn't have joined?" Daniel asked, eyebrow rising as he accompanied Mckay up the one flight of stairs outside.

"Well—no," said Mckay, apparently caught a little off. "I mean, it would have made it a whole lot easier to understand...never mind."

Daniel grinned to himself. "Yeah, well, what would have been the fun in that?"

Mckay's apartment was nothing Daniel didn't expect, full of mindless clutter and stale food. The scientist collapsed onto his couch, which crunched in response, and curled his hand to his chest again.

"Need anything?" Daniel asked, glancing around with a barely hidden grimace. Mess was one thing, but food mess was another.

"Just the remote," said Mckay. "If I'm not going to be on those drugs, I need something else."

Daniel walked across the room to where the grey rectangle sat on the chair. There was a hiss as he picked it up. "Cat?" Daniel asked, handing the remote to Mckay.

"Oh, his water is self-cleaning and I have his meals set to be served automatically on a timer, so he's fine," said Mckay as the TV clicked on.

Daniel shook his head as he went for the door.

"Thanks, Jackson," Mckay called after him.

Daniel looked back and couldn't see the scientist's head over the sagging couch back, but that was probably planned. And it didn't feel unnatural. This was not Daniel's life, not Daniel's way of living even, but there was something familiar about it. He and Mckay hadn't known each other that long, but Daniel already felt like he had gravely misjudged the man on their first meeting. Mckay was odd, but he was a piece of the SG-1 family.

He almost said 'you're welcome' back, but decided against it. The thanks hadn't been for the favor, but for something Mckay wouldn't admit to anyone, except maybe in this oblique way that he knew only Daniel would understand. And after one and half years on SG-1, Daniel knew better than most how that process of communication worked.

ooooooo

Quetesh departed Dorieth with a minimum of pomp, leaving Sam and Jolinar with a bigger mess than if she had refused to approve of their succession.

~How could you not know this?~ Sam asked, as soon as she muddled out exactly what had caught Jolinar's attention.

*Because it wasn't a known quantity before now,* Jolinar answered, fidgeting as she took a tour round the settlement. *Her plan, her grand plan—it started with Abydos. We caught the attention of Ba'al, which led her there, which gave her the success she needed to continue her plan. And now it is not just a plan, it is a scheme.*

~So what do we do, sabotage it? She obviously needs this planet for something.~

*No, no, that is not the issue. With our current contacts, it would be simple to undermine this whole rule. Or if not simple, than nothing that we have not done before.*

~Oh.~

*We may have caused this situation, and now are embroiled in it against all orders. If we leave it as it is, we may open up the ranks of the System Lords to a new threat, which may or may not be useful. If we do anything else, we make the same risk.*

~So we confess, and hope that the information we bring is enough.~

*Perhaps not,* Jolinar answered slowly. Sam felt a slight detachment, and she started to worry. *We can yet play it smoothly.*

~Jol, this doesn't sound good, whatever you're going to do.~

*It is no further than we have already gone. We tell the Council that we believe we have something that needs exploring, and return to report that it is a new danger. Then, volunteering to follow through with it is only natural.*

~It's lying.~ And before Jolinar could answer, Sam followed up: ~More than usual.~

*The truth is not all that matters; why else would there be spies?*

~Don't try to cover it up like that. It's not the same issue, and you know it. These are people who I respect, who you should trust. We crossed the line for personal reasons, but there's no need to do it now.~

Jolinar finished the round, and stood at the top of the paved road. *And if they considered us too involved to continue on the mission? Would you just let it go to another operative?*

Sam wavered, fighting with herself for the right answer, and seeing only a mish-mash of emotions and logic, morals and laws. ~What is your motivation, anyway? Why did you, and why are you, doing this?~

A little to her surprise, Jolinar took a few moments before answering. *That is the question. You have claimed to be qualified to make those kinds of determinations before, why don't you do so now?*

~Because I'm just not sure,~ Sam answered. ~I don't even know my own thoughts, much less yours. The only thing I remember is that you felt guilty, but how does that fit into deception on this scale?~

*Maybe our emotions have been aligned for longer than you think; maybe ever since your heart broke for Sha're's people mine was following suit, clouding my mind. Maybe I cannot stand by while Quetesh ruins lives on my watch. Maybe that and knowing that I am directly responsible for whatever happens is just too much.*

Sam heard, and understood. ~But the lying?~

*Anything may be sacrificed for the greater good, even truth.*

~Well, there we don't agree.~

*Says the one who whole-heartedly agreed to our strategy...*

~It was not my idea. And yes, even I break my own scruples sometime. Am I not allowed a little regret that we ever started down this path?~

*Allowed, certainly; take some of mine, will you not? I can scarcely see past my own regrets, piling on one another like grains of sand to create a dune.*

Sam didn't even try to sort out the emotions as the stood for a minute, the sun beginning to fall towards the horizon behind them.

~Hey, at least something worked,~ Sam commented. ~The Jaffa appear to be functioning under their sub-commanders, and we've hardly had a complaint or question all day.~

*Whatever happens, we need to get back home,* said Jolinar with a sigh.

Narim, her father, blending, everything. They had settled too far into this role, and Sam had almost forgotten all that still hung in the balance. ~Okay, so we need to get things ready to go back.~

*Samantha, please, let us merely play this out to its fullest. A confession would only confuse matters further, and lead to confrontations and distrust. And yes, I know, the distrust came from us first, but there is so much more at stake here.*

~And there always will be,~ Sam protested mildly. ~I just—I can't believe we started down this slope and I didn't recognize how steep it was. But you're right, we need to ride it to the bottom.~

And at least they were agreed on that.

ooooooo

Hammond walked through the SGC, hands by his sides, back only slightly slumped, watching as his people carried on with their days. They had no idea what was going on above them, and if Hammond had his way they never would. From Simmons to this, from an interrogation that only proved in vain because SG-1 saved the world, to a diplomatic mission gone wrong and an Air Force general lost with more classified information than a report could express.

New planet exploration was almost on hold for the time being, as stuffed shirts in Washington argued over whose fault it was that Jacob Carter had been lost. Even if "Jacob Carter" was just another word for "top secret information" to them, it was the former that struck Hammond the most deeply. It was his failure, his responsibility. And he didn't know what his penance should be: stay here and do his damnedest to mend what was broken, or retire before his obviously failing judgment endangered the world again.

Daniel nodded and smiled as he passed Hammond in the hall, oblivious to the fact that his very job might be hanging in the balance. His chance of recovering his wife, more importantly. If politics succeeded, the SGC might be doing nothing more than damage control for the rest of its existence.

Hammond hoped to God that it wouldn't come to that, but all he could do was wait and see. No, he could also make sure that no one else had to share the waiting. Jack might suspect, but he didn't know. That was Hammond's burden, and his alone.

ooooooo

With Quetesh gone, it was simple to provide an excuse that she had given them a specific task. Sam approached her subordinates, giving them the news that she would be absent for some time, and appointing each of them duties in her absence. Both she and Jolinar had no fear of disapproval; they had earned much respect before, but with Quetesh's stamp of approval it was now unconditional. There was no question in their eyes as Sam laid out the plans for the next week.

It felt wrong to be leaving this place, to be away and let it work on its own. Role or not, this world was Sam and Jolinar's responsibility, and Sam couldn't let it go. She was a leader.

Things fell back into their old places more and more as she made her more covert plans, however.

"Narim," said Sam, pulling out the communicator that had been lying abandoned for some days now. "What is your progress?"

He smiled through the link, looking relieved more than anything else. "I feared that you would not return contact in time; the Curia decides the final piece today."

"How did it go?" asked Sam, suddenly curious about their official mission's progress.

Narim sighed. "In most areas I believe the Tok'ra received what they wished. Slight concessions were made about the reproduction of the tunnel crystals by synthetic means, but it was agreed that the technology should be masked to hide its origins."

Sam nodded. "Sounds good. And the weaponry?"

"There was no such issue on the table," said Narim with a slightly confused frown.

"Sorry, I meant the defense systems," corrected Sam.

*Which are weapons, if used in such a manner,* amended Jolinar silently.

"My government could not support deceiving the people by sending technicians covertly to help install the technology on the Tok'ra, and as your people did not wish to be exposed, in the end the compromise was that you receive the blueprints."

"And that's all?" Sam asked.

"No," said Narim, perhaps just slightly amused even though he appeared worn. "But the rest is all related to the smaller matters, and nothing went unexpectedly."

"Thank you, Narim," Sam said, smiling. Her device beeped as the results of the negotiations were downloaded onto it.

"It is not an occurrence I would wish for again, but there is no cause for regret left," Narim conceded, his smile still warmly polite.

Feeling the touch of awkwardness, Sam nodded, and the connection ended. ~I do hope this isn't the last contact we have,~ she said to herself. ~He agreed, but god, it feels like I used him.~

*And if we hadn't?*

~I know, but our strangely good timing doesn't make up for it.~

*I know; I understand. But now, we must go home.*

Sam nodded to no one in particular as she opened up Narim's neatly typed report on the screen. The persona of Coron was fading fast, and she was starting to feel vulnerable again. It would be good to go home.

—

Author's Notes: This isn't necessary for understanding the story, but if you're curious about where the AU part of this Goa'uld storyline is, here are my thoughts: There isn't much canon on Quetesh and Ba'al, but from what we have in canon, Quetesh was at one time allied with Ba'al (personally and professionally) and then attacked him at the battle of Selenis and crippled his flagship and destroyed 10,000 of his Jaffa. The timeline is vague on when this occurred, and so I placed it somewhere around Season 4 for these reasons. We know that the Tok'ra defeated Quetesh and freed Vala around Season 5 in canon, which doesn't make sense unless she was a big threat (unlikely since her domain was not large in canon). Hence, I assumed that she had a grand plan for destroying Ba'al, something the Tok'ra couldn't allow to happen because Ba'al was an important piece of keeping the Goa'uld warring amongst themselves. In this story, Quetesh's grand plan is sped up through her discovery of Abydos (an AU point) which encourages her to sneak more worlds from under Ba'al's nose, hence why she's thinking about the end being near in late Season 2. The rest of her plan is a further plot in this book, though, and will be well explained when the time comes.