Sorry it's taking me so long to update – just too much RL going on! I'll try to update more regularly but can't promise every night for a while (more company coming!). As usual, thank you for the incredibly kind reviews and those adding me to their alert list. I'm so humbled!
Pa'tran, the oldest of the Jaffa, was correct. It took them all of seven days before they arrived on Pol, the planet where Ba'al's main forces were camped. By the time they'd arrived Teal'c had managed to ingratiate himself with quite a few of the Jaffa. He was well liked and well respected and the other Jaffa soon looked to him as their natural leader.
After a couple of days it became obvious to Daniel that Teal'c was actually enjoying himself. Teal'c was so much a part of their team and the SGC that he forgot how difficult it must still be for the Jaffa to be so far away from his home and all that he had known most of his life.
Daniel watched Teal'c laugh and joke with the other Jaffa. He also watched as Teal'c taught the younger ones, sharing much of his wisdom (and the things he'd learned from 'Dis'nee' – Daniel laughed to himself). He shook his head in wonder, seeing all of the Jaffa jockeying for position, the attempts to prove themselves and be 'top cock on the rock'. Machismo was alive and well in Jaffa culture.
It became quite common for Daniel to hear a deep belly laugh from his friend as the older man enjoyed some Jaffa humor. The archaeologist knew, from all his experience, that humor was the hardest thing of all to translate from one culture to another – and it certainly was true in this case. As he'd listened, for about the tenth time, to the one about the Goa'uld, the Asgaard and the Nox on a Teltak, he was about ready to jump out of the window himself!
As much fun as Teal'c seemed to be having, Daniel was not. The ship was crowded and became rather smelly in short order. Not only that, but there was little to do and no place to go. Other than tidy their small area (he had to do it all – it would have looked funny for Teal'c to have done anything) he had nothing with which to occupy his time. He'd tried to speak with one or two of the other 'slaves' but they had scurried away, clearly frightened of interacting with anyone.
So, all he had left to do was to observe the various Jaffa and slaves. He soon came to feel that Pa'tran, the 'old Jaffa', as Daniel thought of him, was by far the most dangerous. He seemed to be suspicious of Teal'c and seemed quite canny. He knew his friend was aware and was being very careful.
Of all of them, Jac'tral, the Jaffa formerly in service to Ra, was his favorite. He not only had a sense of the absurd, he seemed to really like Teal'c and he treated Daniel well (for a slave). In some ways he reminded the younger man of Jack. He had a biting sarcasm, which he could use to great affect, but he was in no way cruel and never used it on those less fortunate than him.
Daniel spared a brief thought for how Jac'tral would react if he knew he was traveling with one of the people who had killed his 'God'. Daniel laughed softly to himself. That seemed so long ago now and yet had been the beginning of a new life for him.
Teal'c spent quite a bit of time with Jac'tral; comparing notes of their younger days training to be Jaffa. Things got a bit sticky when Jac'tral asked which God Teal'c – or 'Tro'han' had served formerly. Fortunately, he and Daniel had discussed this and had decided to pick Nirti. She seemed to have disappeared and since there were none of her Jaffa here it seemed relatively safe. When Pa'tran overheard he asked what had happened to Nirti.
"I had not heard that she had been destroyed by the Tauri as had the other System Lords, Tro'han", he'd said. "Why then have you left her service? Do you not think to be faithful to her?"
Teal'c looked at him seriously but refused to look uncomfortable. He knew the worst thing he could do would be to back down or appear nervous.
"My Lady gave me leave to go to Shayan, thinking this would add to her prestige. When I returned I was unable to find her or her forces. I spent much time looking and was told that the Tauri had, in fact, killed her. That is why I am going to the service of Ba'al. Do you have a problem with that, Pa'tran?" This last was said in a challenging voice. Teal'c was tired of being bated by the older Jaffa. He knew he had to put a stop to it before it began to diminish his position with the others.
Pa'tran just looked at him for a moment, knowing that this was a challenge. He either backed down and left Teal'c the victor, or he stood up to the challenge.
There was something about Tro'han that he didn't trust. He didn't know why – he seemed to be an honorable Jaffa, but there was just something 'off' about him. Maybe it was his story of this 'Shayan'. In all his years he had never heard of this place. Also, he felt that the Jaffa showed too much consideration for his slave. It showed a weakness that bothered him.
Still, he hadn't done anything wrong and was certainly liked by the others. He knew his way around Jaffa – he had the demeanor of one who had had a position of real power. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he was one of the favorites of the Goddess Nirti. Maybe she had allowed him to leave. Too bad for him that she seemed to have disappeared.
When he realized that Tro'han was still waiting he looked up at the stately man and bowed his head.
"No Tro'han. I do not have a problem with that. I honor you for your decision and know that My Lord Ba'al will be fortunate to have you amongst his ranks."
You could practically hear the 'sigh' of relief that went around the ship. As much as Jaffa enjoyed a good fight, they didn't want anything to happen here. Quarters were too tight and it could lead to all sorts of problems. Besides that, it would mean having to take sides and none of them wanted to have to choose between the two most senior Jaffa in their group.
Daniel too breathed more freely. He had been worried there for a minute. Not only was he worried for his friend, he worried also for himself. If anything happened to Teal'c he would be well and truly screwed. He'd end up a real slave in the service of some Jaffa or Goa'uld. Suddenly, their flight from the SGC didn't seem so smart. No one knew where they were except for Feemy and he wouldn't be any help.
By the time they arrived on Pol Daniel felt like he was about to go stir-crazy. He desperately needed fresh air and space to walk. He knew it was probably going to be even more difficult for him but hoped that they'd quickly find something out and then go and get Jack …. yes, and Sam.
As they prepared to land Teal'c came up to him and sat down.
"We have been invited to share the tent of Jac'tral. This is fortunate, otherwise we would have been forced to stay in the barracks."
Both of them had worried about this. They didn't have the money to purchase a tent and other supplies. They would have to simply throw themselves on the mercy of Ba'al's officers. The fact that they now had a place to stay made things somewhat easier, although they'd have to be very careful, living in such close quarters with Jac'tral.
"You must gather our things, D'nor", Teal'c looked over at his friend. "We must be prepared to leave immediately."
"Okay, sure thing. I hope you realize", he added, in a soft whisper, "that I'm going to get you back for this? You're gonna have to clean my apartment and wash my car for me when we get home."
Teal'c simply bowed his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Both of them spared a quick moment to think about going home. They both hoped it would be soon.
Amdahl's Planet
"We'd have to get the chemicals and then figure out what concentrations of each to use. First we'll have to break into the underground room." Griff was speaking quietly with Janet as they sat around the fire.
It had been hard to contain Amdahl. He'd wanted to rush back and tell the rest of his village what he'd discovered, but they'd finally convinced him it wouldn't be wise. He'd agreed to keep quiet if they would help him 'deprogram' the rest of his village.
So, that's what they were trying to figure out. Now that they knew that their theory worked they had to figure a way to replicate it for the whole village. The problem with that was that they really had no idea how the chemical worked, or what quantities to use. The set-up in the temple took care of all that and it had clearly been done a long time ago. They had no way of knowing how to use the drugs.
"Maybe it says something in that room you discovered." Janet answered. "Why don't we ask Hammond to send over another team and you can try and get in." Griff had tried on his own but hadn't been successful. The door was made of some incredibly strong metal and there didn't appear to be any kind of handle or control mechanism.
"We may have to blow it." Griff answered.
"That may just destroy the room and the chemicals. If that happens we may never be able to help Teal'c and Dr. Jackson. No, there has to be a better way."
"Have you spoken with Amdahl? Maybe he knows."
"No, he'd never heard of an underground room. Seems that that area was 'off-limits' to the village. Again, the aliens were smart. They didn't want anyone discovering their little 'game."
"Doc"
"Yes Major?"
"What about their ceremony?"
"What do you mean? They'll just repeat the same things as always. If anything it's going to make it harder for us."
"No, but listen. You said that it was Amdahl that led it right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, why doesn't he do the ceremony as usual except this time, change the words. We could write out what he should say."
"But surely the villagers would notice and not allow him to continue?" Janet looked intrigued but was doubtful that this could work.
"Well, didn't you say that he spoke using some kind of 'foreign' words? We could make something up – or have one of the linguists at the SGC come up with something that sounded like the language he was using. Look, you said that after a couple of minutes he looked like he was drugged. He didn't even notice the words that we used in our 'ceremony'. Why couldn't we do the same?"
"Okay, it's possible. But surely they'd notice the change in words – even if they couldn't understand them. I mean, some of them have been doing this for decades. They must know the words by heart by now."
Griff sat there for a few minutes, frustrated. He just knew this could work if they could only get the men to sit long enough for the drugs to take affect.
"Wait a second!" He just had a brilliant thought. "They haven't had a ceremony since the women were taken, have they?"
"No, it happened during their last ceremony. According to Amdahl they take place once every new moon."
"Right, and that should be happening in just a couple of days, right?"
"Yes, I guess so. But we still have the same problem."
"I know, but look. What if Amdahl were to tell them that this ceremony was going to be different because the women were taken. According to him, and some of the other men, this was supposed to be a great blessing, right?"
"Yeah – a blessing to have your women and children stolen and made slaves!" Janet couldn't help but keep the anger from her voice, even though she knew it really wasn't the men's faults.
"Well, they're all pretty miserable with the women gone – and confused over that fact. Their heads are telling them they should be rejoicing but their hearts – and probably their bodies" Janet snorted, "are telling them this is bad. We can have Amdahl tell them that the reason they're feeling so conflicted is that they haven't 'given thanks' for their deliverance. The 'god or gods' are unhappy with them. Once they've completed the required – and new – ceremony, things will be better."
Janet sat quietly, contemplating Griff's suggestion. When she couldn't come up with any objections she turned and grinned at him.
"I knew I liked you Major. I think this just might work!"
The next morning they approached Amdahl and told him their plan. He thought about it for a moment and then nodded.
"I believe my people would find this acceptable. In fact, I think they will be anxious to go ahead with this. Everyone is very miserable and no one knows what to do. Tell me what I should say."
"I'm going to return to our 'village' and explain what we're planning. I will bring back an expert in languages and he can prepare something for you to say. It shouldn't take long. When is the next ceremony to take place?" Janet hoped they had at least a day or two to prepare things.
"It will take place the day after tomorrow. I will begin to prepare the elders for what to expect. Hopefully there will be no objections." He stood for a moment, looking uncertain. Finally he asked, "When this is finished, will you find our women and children? We need them back." He sounded despondent. He could see clearly the evil that had been done to his people and wanted to try and save, not only his own household, but his whole world.
Janet put her hand out and gently touched him on the arm. "We'll try everything we can. Even now we have people out looking. I'm sure we'll bring them back." She tried to sound confident, but, as every day went by she was becoming more concerned. What if they never saw Sam or Jack again?
It was just a few hours later that she returned with Dr. Pitkin, a linguist who worked with Daniel. He didn't have nearly the brilliance as Jackson, but he was certainly competent. When she had explained what she needed he simply nodded and said he'd be happy to accompany them back.
In reality, he was quite excited, although he didn't show it. Unlike Dr. Jackson, his work took place in the mountain – he never got the chance to go off world. He'd wanted to, for a long time, but had never had the reason or – in fact – the courage to ask. This was his opportunity to not only go through the gate, but possibly to help an entire culture.
As soon as he got to the planet he sat down with Amdahl who ran through the 'alien' words of their ceremony. Pitkin wrote it all down, phonetically, until he had the entire speech. As he examined the words he became quite excited. He recognized their roots! He was an expert in Celtic dialects (much more so than Daniel, in fact) and these clearly came from some kind of Celtic language. Smiling happily he began to compose a new speech, using this dialect. This one would be much different in content however. Taking the text that Dr. Frasier had given him he began to write.
By that evening he had finished. He returned to where Janet and the rest of the team were sitting. Amdahl was also present, anxiously awaiting the speech.
"All finished Doctor?" Janet asked.
"Yes Ma'am. All done." Handing the paper over to her he sat down, tired with the day's work, but satisfied.
"What does it say?" she asked, looking at the foreign words.
"Just what you told me to write, Doctor. The language used here had Celtic origins so I used that in the composition. If you'd like I can read it and Mr. Amdahl can tell me if it sounds okay."
When Janet nodded he took the paper back and began to read. The words had a melodious, soft sound. It was as if the message itself – one of compassion, respect and love – came through in the very sound of the words. When he finished he looked up. His companions all looked mesmerized.
"That was beautiful Doctor. Thank you." Janet replied softly.
"Yes – that is good." Amdahl was smiling. "It sounds like the language of our ceremony – but better. I thank you too."
"Glad to be of service!" Jim Pitkin smiled. He could definitely get used to this. He glanced over at Major Griff who was looking at him admiringly.
"I never thought there was much need of a linguist on an SG team – could never quite figure out why Jack had Dr. Jackson on SG1. I can see I was wrong. We'll have to chat when we get back Doctor."
Pitkin nodded and smiled. Things were definitely looking up.
The day of the ceremony finally arrived. Amdahl had practiced the foreign words and then the 'real' words that he would use once the men were under the influence of the drug. They all hoped that this would work.
As the men made their way, the next morning, to the ceremony it was very obvious, to those from earth, that this was not a happy group of people. They all looked half sick – white faces and bruised looking eyes. This was a village that had been wounded terribly – but they couldn't face the fact that what had happened was bad. The men were suffering terribly from confusion and guilt.
It was a quiet group that made their way into the temple. Unlike the previous time, when they'd been happy and joking, this time they simply filed in and sat in their usual places. They looked up as Amdahl walked to the front and began to speak:
"Friends and neighbors, we have experienced something in our life which we never expected to see. We have been 'blessed' by the gods with the removal of that which is evil, and yet we suffer and are unhappy. We are here today to give thanks – and to remove all that is bad from our hearts. We are here to be cleansed – to turn from darkness to the light – from hatred to love. I ask that all of you join with me today in this special ceremony. I promise that, if you take part freely, you will leave here as new men – who will look to the future with hope and promise."
There was soft murmuring in the crowd. This was very different than what they were used to. This message was positive – it was not simply a railing against evil. For many it was refreshing, for some it was frightening. Their world had been a constant battle against 'evil'. To think of looking forward with hope and promise was beyond their experience.
No matter the various feelings in the room, all stayed. No one liked the feeling of uncertainty that they had experienced since the women were taken. They wanted to be freed from that and return to a life of certainly and clear answers.
Settling down, they waited for Amdahl to begin.
The ceremony started as it always had. This time, however, the words were different. They sounded soft and beautiful and soon the men were lulled into a state of bliss. They lost their sense of place or time and simply let the words fall over them.
Once it was clear that the men were well and truly 'drugged' Amdahl slowly began changing the words from the foreign language to one they could all understand. Using the simple words that had been used on him, he repeated it over and over. Even after his voice grew hoarse and his legs and back tired, he kept repeating them. He wanted to make sure that all the men in his village would experience the beautiful awakening he had had.
Finally, as the sun began to set, Amdahl stopped. Some of the men began to stir. After about twenty minutes all of the men had woken up, although some still looked hung over.
The men began to get to their feet and headed towards the door. So far, no one had said anything. Amdahl was worried that nothing had changed. Maybe it was just him who was affected. As the last man finally left the temple he sighed and followed. He'd have to tell the visitors that it hadn't worked.
As he walked out into the evening air he noticed that the men were not walking back to the village. Usually, after their ceremonies, they hurried back to check on the 'evil ones'. Most were angry and belligerent and some would head home just to beat their wives or daughters.
It took him a moment to realize that the mood was very different. He walked up to the nearest man and looked at him. The man – Formla – looked back at him with an amazed expression on his face.
"Amdahl – I feel – I feel good!" he said, surprised. "Your ceremony worked. I don't remember feeling this happy ever."
Soon the other men were saying the same thing. Smiles and laughter began to break out – men were slapping each other on the back and cracking jokes. It went on for two or three minutes when suddenly Bramayne, one of the younger men, stopped and looked up, an intense expression on his face.
"The women are gone." He said, softly. At this the other men all stopped. Soon, their smiles faded. From looking happy and joyous they now began to appear distressed.
"Yes, the women – they are gone. Oh no!" cried Zogra. "That is bad. What can we do? The women – we need them. Why did we think they were evil? They are good – they are loved. We need them", he repeated.
Soon, the words began to be repeated among all the men. They couldn't understand what had happened. It was as if a blindfold had been removed. They could see what they had done, the harm they had caused. They were even more confused than they had been and didn't know where to turn.
"Friends!" Amdahl called. He realized he had to take control or chaos would soon reign.
"Friends", he called again. Finally he got the attention of his neighbors.
"We have all been tricked! For many years our people have been lied to. We have been told that our women – our mothers, and wives and daughters – are evil and must be punished. This was false. We were made to believe this in an attempt to destroy our world. A foreign enemy came and tricked us so as to make us kill our women and therefore our future. We were too strong for this, but we ended up abusing and harming those we should have loved and cherished. We have much to atone for, as a people. But first, we must get our women and children back. When they are home we will love them and hope that they will forgive us. Never again will we harm those we should love and care for."
There was silence as the men of the village attempted to take all of this in. Suddenly their whole world, their whole system of beliefs had been wiped out. It was a dramatic shift and one that would take a while to sink in. They all knew, however, that they wanted their women and children back.
"Where have they been taken?" asked Zogra. "If they were not taken by the Gods then what happened to them?"
Amdahl turned to Janet and Griff who had been standing over to one side, watching. "I will have our friends explain. They were the ones who helped us understand."
As Janet stepped forward there was a gasp on the part of the men. She had taken off her disguise and now appeared before them as a woman. They looked at her in awe. This was the first time, in all their lives, that they had been able to look at a woman and not feel anger and disgust.
"Friends, I am honored to be here with all of you at this time. You have been given a great gift of true knowledge, which I know you will use wisely." She watched as a number of the villagers nodded. Yes, she thought, if they could get the women back life in this village was going to change dramatically.
"You want to know what has happened to your women and children?" again they nodded. "I am sad to say they have been taken by an evil enemy who enslaves people. Along with your women two of my friends were also taken – they came here a few weeks ago. My people are looking for those taken and I can assure you we will do all that we can to bring your women and children back to you. I am sorry for your loss but do not give up hope." She stopped, as there was little else she could say.
"Is there anything we can do?" asked one of the younger men. His wife and three daughters had been taken. Suddenly he was thinking of their sweet faces. He wanted nothing more than to hold them and make them happy.
"You can go back and treat the women who remain with kindness and compassion. Help them, love them. It will take them time to trust you but it is now your duty and privilege." She was pleased at the eagerness on the faces of those listening to her. They wanted to help and care for the women.
"You can also work to let others know, in other villages. It will be difficult, they will resist, but eventually all of you can have true understanding."
"How? How can we convince the others?" Fortreb, an older man, asked.
Amdahl answered. "We will invite them to share our ceremony." He answered. "You know it is considered an honor to be invited by another village. That is something we can do now. We will tell them it is celebration for our women leaving. They will come – just as all of you came today."
Fortreb laughed. "You tricked us Amdahl."
"Yes, I did", he answered seriously. He hoped this wasn't going to be a problem.
"Good for you. We made the right decision in making you chief elder. We all have you to thank." Suddenly a number of cheers rang out. As upset as they were over their missing women, the village suddenly had hope. They would not give up – they would find their women and make new lives for themselves.
With confidence they made their way back to the village. The women there did not know what was coming!
As Janet and her team stood and watched they could only rejoice over the change – and yet they were each filled with sadness. They wished they had the confidence that these people had – that one day they would see those they cared about again.
Mithrad's House
Jack was able to get some sleep, as long as Sam held him tight. He still felt frozen and sick, but she provided some small measure of warmth. He knew things were bad – very bad. He expected, although he wouldn't say this to Sam, that he was dying.
D'jindra had spoken of the drugs he'd been given and he figured they were responsible for his condition.
What he didn't know is whether or not Sam had been, or would be, affected. He debated telling her but didn't know what she could do about it. She could refuse to eat or drink but they could simply force her. The other thing was that they would never know if their food was drugged or not. There certainly had been no smell or taste to give the drugs away.
As he lay there, trying not to shiver and wake her up, he pondered what to do. They had enough information that they could just about escape. The medallion was almost off. They figured a couple more days and Sam would have filed it all the way through. The problem was, he didn't think he could make it. Not only was he cold, he was so weak it was all he could do to lift his hand.
What he really wanted was for Sam to try and make it out without him but he knew that was going to be just about impossible. Look what she'd already done to help him?
He groaned, silently, when he thought about that. In some ways he wished he hadn't said anything; that he'd just enjoyed the time with her. When he wasn't worried about what was going on he'd loved being able to be close to her. Holding her in his arms had been the best thing he could remember for a long, long time.
Looking down at the sleeping woman in his arms again, he couldn't help but smile. She was so amazing; beautiful, smart, feisty – all the things he liked in a woman. He only wished he'd met her in different circumstances. He thought of the alternate reality where that Sam hadn't been in the Air Force. If she'd been just a scientist here they could have gotten together a long time ago.
Even as he had that thought he discarded it. No, his Sam was perfect. Their time together on SG1 had been what made him love her. It was partly because she was a soldier that he loved her. She understood him like no one he could ever remember (except maybe Daniel but that was a totally different thing!). Even Sara had trouble relating to the 'soldier' side of him, often resenting the Air Force and what it had taken from her.
No, he wouldn't change a thing, except maybe for the damn regs, although in actual fact, he agreed with them. He'd seen how personal relations could really screw up a team. The fact was that his team, and what they dealt with, was different. The personal relationships they had had made them stronger, not weaker.
With a deep feeling of sorrow – and a chill that went to his very soul – he tried to sleep.
By the time morning came he was feeling sicker. He didn't think he could even get out of bed, but he was damned if he was going to ask Sam to bring him something to pee in. Instead, he asked for her help to make it to the bathroom.
"Of course Sir. Here, let me get over to your other side." As soon as she'd moved away from him he felt the shivers get worse. By the time she helped him up from the bed his teeth were literally chattering. If this went on too long he'd end up breaking them!
They made it to the little bathroom, although it was extremely difficult. A couple of times he'd thought he was going to pass out. It was actually the shivers that kept him conscious.
"This is bad Sir. I think we need to tell someone."
"I hhhhavvvve the ffffeeeellling thhheey knnowwww allreadddy."
"But you can't go on like this Colonel."
"Kkkkay, Cccccarrrterr." They'd reached the bathroom and she'd helped him inside. He waved her off, with a very shaky arm.
"Are you sure Sir? I think maybe you need my help."
"Ccccan pppeeeee onnn mmmy owwn Mmmajor."
"All right Sir, but I'll be just outside the door."
It turned out it was a good thing he wasn't wearing pants. He didn't think he would have been able to get them off – especially those tight leather ones. As it was, he decided he'd better sit. The way he was shaking he'd end up spraying the whole bathroom and he didn't think Sam would appreciate that very much.
By the time he was finished he knew he had to get back to bed. His vision was failing along with everything else. The shakes were so bad he really didn't think he could walk. Forcing himself up he croaked – he couldn't talk – and Carter immediately entered. He knew he must look pretty pathetic, standing half naked and shaking uncontrollably. He wasn't even able to pull the blanket around him. It simply hung off his shoulders, letting everything pretty much hang out.
Oh well, he thought – it's not like Carter doesn't know what I look like!
"Come on Sir, back to bed."
She half carried, half dragged him back. As soon as he arrived he simply collapsed. She had to lift his legs and turn him so he was lying properly. She then tucked the covers tightly around him.
"I'll be right back Sir. I just have to uh – " she pointed to the bathroom. He nodded (or actually shook) since he could no longer speak.
Sam hurried to the bathroom and closed the door. Thank heavens the Colonel was too sick to notice! Although as soon as she had that thought she felt guilty! She could feel the cold sweat breaking out on her face and the nausea rising in her throat. She stood in front of the toilet for a minute, taking deep breaths, trying to settle her stomach.
Unfortunately, it didn't work. With a feeling of dread she bent over and began to throw up. Great! She must be coming down with the same thing as the Colonel!
The Colonel was lying in a pathetic, shaking heap under all their blankets, when the door opened. He knew someone had walked in but couldn't tell – and really didn't care – who had entered.
"Jack?" a soft voice drifted through the covers. Martia.
"Hmmm", was all he was able to reply. She walked over and looked at him in concern.
"We were worried this might happen." She reached out and touched his face gently. She could tell he was freezing, his skin felt as if he'd been out in icy weather.
"Wwwwhhhaaatt?" he tried to ask.
"What is it?" she knew what he was trying to say. "It's the Kopra and Roshu."
He nodded slightly. He'd figured that's what it was. He wondered if it was fatal.
"My mistress explained it to me. They gave it to you so that you would Mai'thun with Samantha. They said they had never seen anyone who refused like you did. The priests were angry so gave you both substances, which they are never supposed to do. When taken together they cause a strong reaction."
Ya think! Unfortunately he couldn't speak the words. He tried to look at Martia. He needed to know more about this and whether or not it would affect Sam. As if she knew what he was thinking she continued.
"It does not affect women the same way. It makes the women more fertile – and more 'interested'."
Ha, he'd figured that one from what he'd been told. It had explained Sam's actions.
"Of course, if she does not love her partner it can make her angry and violent – and has the opposite affect on fertility. The priests were taking a real chance. If Sam didn't love you it would have destroyed all their plans."
Huh? What was this? What did that mean? Maybe that's why Sam was angry at him – although that had only been yesterday, before she'd been …'interested'! This was very confusing, especially in his state.
"But for the man it can be very bad. Jack, you must join with Sam – that is your only hope!" she cried. He looked up and tried to tell her to be quiet. He didn't want Sam to hear this. By the way, where was she? He tried to look around and finally realized that the bathroom door was shut. She probably needed a little bit of privacy after having to 'hug' him all night.
"Noooo!" he chattered. "Ccccannn't"
"But don't you understand? That is your only hope. The drugs interact and cause the man to become addicted to the woman he is with. If he does not have regular", she paused, trying to think of the right expression, "interaction, with the woman he will get sick and eventually die. That is what is happening to you. That is why the priests gave it to you. They hoped that you would have to join with Sam rather than die." By this time tears had gathered in her eyes. She had come to care for these two and didn't want them to suffer. Also, she knew that the only way she and her daughters would ever regain their freedom would be with their help.
"Jack, you must Mai'thun with Sam. Once you do you will regain your strength."
"Jjjjusst onnnncee …. ccccurred?"
"Do you mean will you be cured after that?" He nodded.
"No, I'm sorry. As far as I know there is no cure. It's permanent. They say that you are forever joined with Sam, that there is no escape. I'm sorry – I'm sure it is difficult. But at least you love each other."
He closed his eyes. He couldn't think of anything worse than this. If Sam found out she'd feel she had to stay with him to save his life. That would simply cause them to hate each other. There was no way he'd ever let that happen.
"Jack?" He looked at her, wondering what she was going to say.
"There's something else." She paused, not sure if it mattered or not. "You will never be able to be with another. That is why they had Pelonia try and seduce you – to be sure the Kopra and Roshu had worked. Sam in the only woman you can …" she made a waving motion with her hands, not wanting to continue.
Great – that explained his lack of ability. So, unless he was with Sam he was effectively impotent. The day was getting better and better!
"I did bring something that will help for a little while. My mistress gave it to me but I have to be careful not to let the guards or the priests know. I have enough for a week or so. It should help the symptoms.
Great, now she told him! He looked at her expectantly. She pulled a small bottle out the large pocket in her skirt.
"Take a drop under your tongue. It should make you well enough to get up. It won't last though. My mistress says it only works a short time and then will not be effective any more." She reached over and, seeing that he was still too shaky, she took the dropper from the bottle. He was able to open his mouth and she quickly placed a drop under his tongue.
It only took a minute or so and he started to feel better. Not great – but at least the horrible shaking seemed to be getting better. After a couple of more minutes he felt well enough to sit up.
"Thank you Martia", he was able to give the young woman a small smile.
"You are welcome Jack O'Neill. This will help until you and Sam - ", he smiled, not letting on that there was no way he would ever let that happen. No, this simply gave him some time to get Sam out of here and see what he could do to help the others. Once that was done - well, he guessed he'd be done too. Unless, of course, Janet could figure something out.
"Martia, you have to promise that you won't say anything to Sam about this." She looked at him worriedly. Why didn't he want Sam to know?
"But she should know. She can help you."
"No Martia – you cannot tell her. It's very important." Finally the young woman nodded. She had spent her whole life being trained to obey men. She could not go against that training now, even though she felt it was wrong. Knowing that the guards would be getting anxious she turned to leave.
"Remember, you must Mai'thun to save your life. Don't wait too long." With that she left the house.
Jack lay back down, feeling better, although still sick. This time he wasn't sure if the sickness was physical or simply a result of what he'd just learned. Essentially he'd been poisoned for the perverse desires of a Goa'uld and his servants. He was furious but knew there was little he could do but keep it from Sam.
Speaking of Sam, where was she? He looked over at the bathroom, worried that she hadn't returned. He got off the bed, still a little shaky but at least able to walk.
"Sam?" he knocked on the door. When there was no reply he knocked again.
"I'm okay Sir. I'll be out in a minute." He could hear some water being splashed and a few seconds later the door opened. Sam walked out, looking incredibly pale. In fact, she looked kind of green.
"Are you okay?" he asked, worried. Maybe Martia had been wrong about the Koshu stuff.
"I'm fine Colonel. I think maybe I've caught a little of what you've got."
Damn it no, he thought. "Come on Carter, to bed with you."
As she climbed up on the bed, still feeling incredibly nauseated, it dawned on her that the Colonel seemed better. She sat up and looked at him as he stood beside the bed.
"Sir? Are you okay?"
"Feeling better Carter. I guess it was just a 24 hour flu bug or something."
"Yeah", she said skeptically. It hadn't looked like any flu she'd ever seen. However, if he was feeling better that was good. Well, maybe she had caught it – although she wasn't cold, just dizzy and sick to her stomach.
"Can I get you something Major?" He walked over to the table where Martia had left a basket of food. He brought over a couple of things and went to hand them to Sam. She took one look at the food and covered her mouth. She then bounded out of bed and made it to the bathroom just in time.
O'Neill stared after her in astonishment. "What the hell was happening?"