Chapter 67 - Hindsight
Even though Dixon's words as he looked into Daniel's lab were, "Jackson, problem!", his face gave Daniel no real worry.
"What kind of problem?" Daniel asked, following as Dixon jogged down the hall.
"Not the Colonel's, and only maybe Teal'c's," said Dixon with a tight grin.
"Which is oddly cryptic," Daniel said, frowning. "Mckay and Teal'c?" he guessed incredulously.
Dixon let out a short, barking laugh. "Strangely, yes."
Only a couple minutes more, and Daniel saw the situation himself. There was Mckay, there was Teal'c, standing on one side of the lab. Mckay's arms were crossed in front, and Teal'c's in back, but they stood resolutely. And oddly together. The other side of the lab held Jean, and surprisingly, Sha're. Daniel blinked at that, as well as at Jean's defensive pose, even as Sha're didn't appear more than determined.
The real problem, though, was Hammond. "No, Dr. Miller, you have not explained it well enough," he blustered.
"I told you all that I was responsible for," Jean said, waving with her hand. "It was safe, and it was all made clear."
"Are you saying that it is Dr. Mckay's fault?" Hammond demanded.
"God forbid I do that, sir," Jean said shortly, tossing the briefest of glares at her brother.
Hammond didn't have time to correct her tone, as Mckay broke in. Daniel, standing silent with Dixon at the door, was instantly surprised.
"There is no fault," Mckay said with emphasis. "Teal'c was injected, but he submitted to it, and is not giving any objection now. He's a member of this base just like anyone else."
"He is an ally," Hammond answered. "And genetic modifications of allies are not allowed."
"It's not truly genetic," Mckay tossed back. "Which you would know, if you actually cared about the science that is such a huge part of your base."
"Mckay!" came a snappy voice from behind Daniel's head, and he turned swiftly to see Jack arriving.
"I'm not apologizing," Mckay protested. "All we did was devise a way for anyone to control Goa'uld devices, and we needed a way to test it."
"On Teal'c?" Jack asked, shaking his head. "What? That makes no sense."
"He volunteered," Mckay said in less excited tone, glaring at them all.
Daniel raised his eyebrow, blinking, as he looked up to Dixon. Dixon shrugged, indicating that nothing was different since he had left to find Daniel.
"The point is that you were all out of line," Hammond said, still firm. He turned to Jean, asking hardly. "Is that treatment permanent?"
Jean appeared to struggle not to shrug. "Possibly."
"It's simple, people," Hammond said, looking at them all for a second. "There will be no, I repeat, no, genetic modifications to any person on this base without my permission. No modifications whatsoever," he added, as Mckay almost opened his mouth.
"But this was approved," Jean protested slightly.
"It's not approved for anything but theoretical research, which is what you were mainly hired for," Hammond declared. Then, as much as the man could, he turned on his heel to leave.
Daniel and Dixon stepped aside.
"What?" Jack asked as an open-ended question, walking into the lab with his arm flung out.
"I am now capable of operating a Goa'uld hand device," said Teal'c, matter-of-fact and maybe a little satisfied as well.
"Oh Jesus," Jack sighed.
Daniel glanced to the right the same moment Jack did.
"What am I going to do with all of you?" Jack demanded. "And Sha're, I thought you were supposed to be sensible."
"It was a perfectly safe procedure," Sha're said simply. "And I did not make the decision, I only provided the material for the modification."
Jack sighed.
"So, d'you figure out what gene makes you all want to play the odds?" Dixon asked in a faux-innocent tone.
Sha're just gave him a look as she crossed the room to join Daniel.
"You know, Jack, why are you always getting on me again?" Daniel asked.
"I don't know, Daniel," Jack said with a sigh, leaving the lab. "Dust never changed anyone's DNA, that I know of." He tossed a slight glare to Teal'c.
"But perhaps dust has not had such a valuable military advantage," Teal'c said.
And when Daniel glanced up, he was certain this time—the Jaffa was smug. Sha're was smiling when he looked to her, and so he just shook his head and put an arm around her waist. Poor Hammond, poor Jack, and possibly even poor Dixon. They'd have to learn eventually how much science they'd placed around them.
ooooooo
Coming down off the adrenaline high was a bitch, as Sam and Jolinar came home with Quetesh in hand. Shan'ak called for the Tok'ra guards immediately, but they only had a quick ring transport down before the questions were asked. Sam felt her limbs start to tremble as Jolinar gave the briefest of answers to everything.
Quetesh was taken from them, sedated, and only then did Sam start to focus on those around her. At first there were only secondary Tok'ra, whom Jolinar ignored. But then she saw her father approach.
"What have you done?" Jacob asked.
"What was necessary for the mission," Jolinar said wearily.
Jacob started a word, then frowned. Reaching out a hand, somewhat gingerly, he put it on Jolinar's arm. "You're pale."
Jolinar frowned too, then sat on the nearest bench. She didn't feel that out of it, but the burn and the buzz of excitement was gone.
"I assume you are not injured?" Selmak then spoke.
Jolinar shook her head shortly. The fade of emotions left her a little confused on what had just happened.
"Then you must explain yourself, quickly, before another of the Council comes," said Selmak firmly. "This is not at all what was expected, Jolinar."
"There was no choice," Jolinar said, looking up to face him. "The planet was at stake, and so we acted on our opportunity."
"And the plan that we so carefully protected?" Selmak asked.
Jolinar could see how much he tried not to show his frustration, or at least upset. "You are not listening."
Selmak sighed. "And so you just changed the plan, because you thought there was no choice."
"Would you have passed up the opportunity?" Jolinar said, almost demanding. "What is better, that a planet of innocents be destroyed, or that one of the most vicious of Goa'uld's be in our hands to meet justice at last?"
Selmak looked to Jolinar slowly, and paused before finally speaking. "Which of her lieutenants do you suppose will take over her empire?"
"I do not know, and I do not care," Jolinar snapped.
Sam wasn't so sure. She was trying to find all the rational thoughts that had been there, before Quetesh declared an ultimatum and shortened their time. ~We did exactly what Quetesh did; made a desperate move and threw a wrench in plans.~
"With every word," Selmak said aloud, sighing, "you are simply saying that you were too emotionally involved, and should not have been allowed."
"Only if you would have been prepared to accept the loss of an entire planet," said Jolinar. "And only if you think the capture of Quetesh is nothing." She just wanted to focus on that.
"It is not nothing," Selmak acknowledged. "But neither is whatever is out of order in Quetesh's empire, which we will have to deal with if the plan is thoroughly carried out."
Selmak was not wrong. Sam and Jolinar only had a couple more minutes before the rest of the Council currently on base called for their report, and they stood before them. Jolinar kept control, still supporting the decision she and Sam had made. Inside, though, Sam slowly felt her heart sinking, and Jolinar was coming down with her.
All the time Martouf and Lantash had spent gathering information about Quetesh's fleet—it could easily be wiped away as soon as the power vacuum caused a struggle. Maybe the Doriens and the Jaffa would cooperate without their god, but the chance of struggle was much more likely. Sam and Jolinar had only left with Quetesh, leaving no guiding influence at all.
~We really were driven by emotion, right? I don't remember feeling it, though.~
*Not all emotion is easily recognizable,* Jolinar said in the pause, as the Council spoke among themselves.
But finally, it was over. All the Council said was that Quetesh would be executed, and Sam and Jolinar would be on a short leave. Another Tok'ra representative would be sent to Dorieth, to minimally manage damage control until Sam and Jolinar were in any shape to return. Until then, Sam and Jolinar's duty would be to take care of Quetesh's host, did she recover fully.
Jolinar paused. "I would know the reason for this, not that I object."
"Your history with Sha're is considered an asset," said Ren'al coolly. "That is all."
Jolinar nodded, and took her leave. They stood for a few minutes in the hall.
~Quetesh is really gone, or will be in a few minutes,~ Sam said. ~Why doesn't that feel better?~
Jolinar sighed. *Her absence is just that, absence. Her actions have not been reversed.*
~But they won't be repeated,~ Sam said, to herself. ~Jolinar, I'm just tired.~
*A bath?*
~That would be great.~
ooooooo
"So, apparently there was a lot you didn't tell me," Daniel said, as he walked with Sha're.
"There is always a lot I do not tell you," answered Sha're.
Daniel half-smiled. "Yes, but genetic research?"
Sha're shrugged. "It was not as much as it sounds."
They walked on a few steps more, when suddenly Sha're stopped. Daniel almost stumbled, his arm still resting around her waist. "What?" he asked.
"You are right about one thing," Sha're admitted, frowning. "I have not told you perhaps all that you should know."
"Oh?" Daniel turned to face her, anticipating something he knew not what.
"I may have mentioned it once in passing, but only Doctor Frasier paid attention, I think," said Sha're. "Shifu is, as you put it, genetically modified."
Daniel's mouth sagged a little. "What?" Surely, he'd remember this, even in passing.
"As the child of two hosts, he was born with the Goa'uld genetic memory," Sha're said, looking him the eye with a fragile gaze. "It would have infected his mind, and even in his infancy it caused nightmares. The Tok'ra had a way to, what is the word, inhibit it. It was done some time ago, and should not ever affect our child again."
"I—I don't remember that at all," Daniel said, brow creasing. He didn't know what to do with his arms, so instead they just hung there.
"I thought you might not," said Sha're, slightly wincing. "But I did not think it something you needed to think about, when there is nothing to be done."
"Nothing to be done?" Daniel asked, stumbling a little over the words. "But he could have the memories of a Goa'uld."
"That is just it, Daniel," Sha're said, stepping closer and putting out her hand before he could fidget. "If the Tok'ra were correct, then he will remember nothing. That part of him is suppressed. But we cannot know one way or another without the help of the Tok'ra."
Those last words fell in a slightly lower tone, and Sha're scarcely held his gaze.
Daniel breathed out. "I see." And Sha're couldn't contact the Tok'ra any more than the SGC could. There was only the slightest, remotest chance that a future contact would come from their end. From Sam. Daniel had viewed it as such a far out possibility, it was almost out of his mind altogether.
"Since this argument about genetics came up today, it reminded me that you should at least be aware," Sha're said, breathing out and loosening a little. "But really, Dan'yel, Shifu is fine."
Daniel smiled, bringing up his other hand to squeeze hers. "I'm sure he is."
They continued walking to wherever they were going—Daniel didn't know, as Sha're was leading. Just when he was almost viewing his family as normal, given how Sha're was integrating, life reminded him how extraordinary he was. And yet, he felt no wonder. Only a renewed desire to have Shifu in his arms more often, to make continually sure that he was indeed fine. Poor little guy. Daniel vowed to himself that his son would not have such a rough life as either of his parents, if at all possible.
ooooooo
The warm bath felt sublime, and as Sam let the heat nearly scorch her skin, she remembered that she had once missed the pulsing beat of the shower. No longer. She came to the surface, breathing in the scented steam, and felt Jolinar relaxing in the back of her mind. The mental stress that they hadn't acknowledged on Dorieth started melting away.
~Has it gotten that bad, that we don't even know when we're upset?~ Sam asked.
Jolinar didn't think so. She hesitated, but reminded Sam of the extent of the trauma of only recently. They were only relatively back on top of things, and Sam had to accept that.
Sam closed her eyes and sighed. It was so much easier to forget.
*No, it is not,* Jolinar said. *Do not address it, maybe, but do not try to forget.*
Sam didn't know what to think of that, whether good advice or bad or both, and whether any of it was hypocrisy. It didn't matter. They'd make it, however they would, and it'd have to be somewhat on the fly.
She dried off and ran her fingers through her damp hair, finally twisting it in a small knot at the back of her head. Slipping into a soft brown wrap that was almost leathery, she felt at home again. And now, with a sigh, there was unfinished business.
It made sense to go to the infirmary this time. Jolinar had never seen a Goa'uld symbiote executed, so she had no idea where that was. But by this time, Quetesh would be gone, and Sam and Jolinar were charged with taking care of the host.
They walked past the first few areas before seeing Larys standing, looking at a small device in his hand.
"Samantha, Jolinar," he acknowledged in a low voice.
"How did it go?" Sam asked, sure he'd know what she meant.
Larys' face tightened for a moment, but he nodded as if to himself. "Well enough. As soon as Quetesh came to grips with the fact that you beat her...she did not make her end easy. And she was more adept at it than Amonet."
"So...?" Sam asked, feeling a bit of concern now.
Larys beckoned her to step forward around the wall. Even Jolinar hadn't realized how much it would jar to see Quetesh and yet not Quetesh. The first sight of that dark hair, and Sam flinched, then had to shake her head as unnoticeably as possible. Her heart had skipped a beat, though, even though she knew, she knew in her head, that there was absolutely no reason anymore. Quetesh was dead. That wasn't Quetesh. Names were so problematic with symbiotes. That wasn't Quetesh.
"I do not think Quetesh did permanent damage," Larys said, as if he had not seen Sam's reaction. "Physically, I believe she is already on the mend. She responded well to our treatments, and I think she was only a host for a couple decades."
Sam flinched again, but this time it was the 'only', and suddenly her concern was a sharp pang of sympathy. Taking a breath, trying to get past her own issues, she stepped forward a little. Beneath that same dark hair lay the face that should have reminded Sam of Quetesh. But this woman—was not the same. Sam breathed out. Not just that she was clearly unblended, but her face just wasn't the same. No sharp glint of eyes, no tenseness of the mouth, no firm jaw. Her face was weary, eyes shut, but though part of it was her sleeping, Sam had a feeling that enough would be different once she woke. Then she realized that Larys seemed to be waiting, and she looked back to him.
"She will not wake," Larys said quietly. "It is not that she is unconscious. Judging from the readings, she is only barely even asleep. But she is not responding to anything that we do."
The pang dug in harder. "You think Quetesh did something to her mind?" Sam asked, her voice vulnerable.
"It is not impossible," Larys said, and Sam saw pain behind his eyes, but it was a long pain from more than just this day. "But more, perhaps, she may be doing it to herself. It is not that she cannot wake, I think, but that she does not want to."
*She may be frightened,* Jolinar said remembering all they had done. *We unwittingly abused her, while Quetesh was still alive. She may think that we will not know the difference between them.*
Sam thought of her own waking with Jolinar. The opposite, perhaps, but that mental fear—and who knew what else—was going on in this woman's mind after almost most of her life was taken.
"If you don't mind, I think Jolinar and I will stay here tonight, just in case," Sam said quietly.
Larys turned back to his device after a nod, leaving after a couple minutes.
Sam breathed out, and sat on the bed opposite to Quetesh's host. The woman was curled in a half fetal position, the hand that Sam had shot bandaged and clasped tightly to her chest. No wonder Larys assumed that it was her choice not to move or wake. Behind the thin eyelids, Sam could see her eyes moving back and forth, perhaps in dreaming. The more she watched, the more she saw little twitches, each one more reassuring than the last. Quetesh did not twitch, Quetesh glided and smoothed with every gesture. Had. Not anymore.
~It'll be okay,~ Sam told herself, lying down on her side facing the other bed, preparing to sleep if the woman did not wake up. ~Ren'al was right. There may be a lot of emotions going on, but that will help here.~
*If there is any help at all,* Jolinar said, the slight hint of fear and despair creeping in.
~It's been a long day for her, don't give up hope yet,~ Sam answered, but sleepily now that she was lying still. ~Long years. God, I hope she's not afraid of us.~
Jolinar had no answer, just sleepiness. Another thing she wouldn't admit out loud, but they were not quite ready for Dorieth yet. Acknowledged or not, today's stress had drained them. Sleep came easily, and would stay for a while.
ooooooo
Sam woke late next morning, and Jolinar was already awake. Waking in her clothes and not under blankets didn't feel like home—but the clean smell and the way the light refracted off the crystals was instantly reassuring. Jolinar was sitting up, and had smoothed out both her dress and her hair. The latter had dried slightly oddly during the night, but Jolinar had it tied out of the way.
And, there was nothing different on the other side of the infirmary room. The woman who had once looked exactly like Quetesh still lay sleeping, her brow slightly more furrowed, her hand more relaxed, but otherwise just the same. Around her, the soft glow of Tok'ra technology kept watch over her health.
Sam reached around for Jolinar's emotions, finding them easily. Nothing much at first. Sympathy, regret, worry. But there was more. She worried for Martouf and Lantash, not only what they would do, but what they might think. It was less a concern than this freed host that they must care for, but it weighed on Jolinar. The more time passed, the more Jolinar felt that she had made another rash mistake. Sam pushed in on this, reminding her that it was very much a joint decision, and therefore a joint mistake if it should turn out that way. But it didn't need to.
And then there was a kind of sympathy, accompanied with emptiness; Jolinar couldn't empathize with the feelings of a host. Not just because of her past, but because of her very nature. She didn't quite feel guilty, not yet, but there was some kind of emotion connected with her lack of deep sympathy, and Sam felt it but couldn't quite identify.
*Is there anything to do?* Jolinar wondered more specifically.
Sam only had her instinct. ~I think she'd rather wake up to someone than alone. Waking up alone is—under normal circumstances only sort of acceptable. It's something I'd never miss.~
Quietly, she took control and went to find a chair. As she set it by the former-host's side, she noticed a kind of pallor to the woman's skin. Sam rested a finger on the woman's arm, and found it chill. She grabbed a nearby blanket, and lay it gently over the woman, then sat down. Through all of it, the woman didn't move beyond near-invisible twitches in both face and arms.
~Maybe there's some nervous problems like we had,~ Sam wondered.
Then, just as she settled fully into the chair, there was movement. The woman's hand slipped from where it rested at her collarbone, and then jerked outward a little, as if reaching for something before realizing that there was nothing to reach for. For a moment her hand hovered, then lay down, hanging half off the bed, looking slightly desperate.
Sam knew things were delicate, but she thought she recognized the reach for safety or comfort. Softly, she put up her hand and rested it on the woman's. Not clasping, not lying heavily, just barely touching. "You're safe," she murmured just under her breath.
The woman didn't move or wake, but Sam thought her hand at least relaxed.
Sam closed her eyes after a moment, trying to empty her mind. It was starting to wind tight, her thoughts tangling, and she didn't want that. Jolinar sat back, watching in a way as she saw Sam consciously work on what was in her own mind. Jolinar hadn't done something like this, so Sam had no idea what it looked or felt like.
There was no way to tell how much time passed, when suddenly there was movement again. Sam felt the hand beneath hers jerk beyond just a twitch, and her eyes flew open. The woman's eyes were still closed, but her face had tensed with something that almost never happened with sleep, and her eyes flitted rapidly beneath her lids.
"It's all right," Sam half-whispered.
Sam could see the veins pulsing frantically in the woman's neck, but then her eyes slowly fluttered half open. Sam breathed in, seeing an empty grey that was nothing like the hard glint from before. Not empty though—not quite.
The woman's face was contorted in something like a frown, her nostrils flaring with how fast paced her breathing was. Her eyes darted from Sam to the walls around, and then suddenly she pulled her hand back to her chest.
"Who?" she whispered, the word coming out cracked and neither curious nor worried but something harsher. Flatter.
Sam's sympathy panged. "My name is Samantha," she said quietly. "I'm here to help you."
There was almost a full minute of silence. The woman didn't move, her breathing still rapid, her body still tensed, her eyes still darting before finally resting on Sam's.
"I am not Quetesh," she finally said, voice barely breaking a whisper.
And Sam knew she wasn't just telling Sam, she was telling herself. It hurt in a familiar way, and now this was no longer just "unfinished business".
"You're safe," she said softly again. The woman didn't relax, but she didn't close her eyes either. And Sam saw the pain in them. But pain meant something to feel, and Sam knew that soon she'd be grateful for it. Just not now.
"You're safe," she said again.