Title: Roundelay II: Lantesh
Author: Jewels
Email: jhantor@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Category: Drama, Angst, SMR
Spoilers: None.
Archive: Anywhere that already has my fics, my site http://www.crosswinds.com/~tokrachick/fanfic/. Anyone else, please ask first.
Summary: Sequel to Roundelay I. From Lantesh's POV.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. They're not mine, never have been mine, even though I wish they were.
Notes: Ok, people, part two. And yes, there are some rather obvious gaps in this one, but I promise, they will be filled in in further parts. There is a method to my madness I assure you.

**

My host and I, in our time, have had some big psychological shocks. And I mean big. But very few have made both of ours minds suddenly seize up and refuse to work. Because of this, it was rather understandable that Martouf's body continued working regardless and the next thing we hit was Jacob as he came to a halt just in front of us. Khella, fortunately, had slightly more presence of mind - or perhaps she didn't realise what was going on - and slowed to a halt much less obviously.

Martouf couldn't stop staring at the being on the dais, who was going on at great length about all who opposed her in the days ahead would suffer her wrath, and other such threats against people who wouldn't follow her.

"What are we going to do?" Martouf murmured to Jacob, manoeuvring himself so he could be heard by both our companions, but still keep his face mainly obscured by the hood. I gave briefly thanked that deity that the Tau'ri so often spoke of (it seemed appropriate, I have no God, and I hear that phrase so often) that the robes were all-concealing. It would /not/ have done for Anqet to spot them and use Samantha's memories to pick us out.

Jacob was dumbfounded, and unable to speak, and then our attention was drawn back to the dais, where Anqet seemed to be reaching the high point of her speech.

"There has been, in Our presence," Anqet said, enunciating each word with an accent somewhat similar to that which Goa'uld Queens such as Hathor and Qadesh use... used in Hathor's case. It was so different from Samantha's normal voice... "A spy. A traitor from the Tok'ra." There was some muttering among the crowd as Anqet gestured imperiously and her First Prime and his Second stepped up, holding a severely beaten man between them.

"Oh no... Teneb..." murmured Khella, pain in her voice. I know she was friends with him, hoping to become his mate... I think Martouf and I can both sympathise with her...

"This," Anqet said, bringing her left hand forward, the hand device glowing a fiery red. "Is what We do to traitors."

Teneb didn't even have the strength to do more than blink up at Anqet as she moved her hand till the stone was just above his forehead. Khella looked away, biting her lip to stifle any noise she might make, and Martouf closed his eyes, sparing us both from watching the woman we... from watching Samantha killing him. Unfortunately, he couldn't block off his hearing as well, and we could hear the bloodthirsty roar of the crowd that signalled Teneb's demise. Martouf opened his eyes and glanced at Jacob, who looked to be in almost physical pain.

Again, I think Martouf and I can sympathise.

Jacob seemed to gather himself and nodded to Martouf and Khella, and the small group moved towards an exit from the courtyard, and into an alcove big enough for the three of us, but that was out of sight enough for them to talk without being seen by Jaffa.

"What do we do?" asked Khella quietly, between keeping a watchful eye on what was going on beyond the alcove and what was going on within.

"Samantha holds the secrets of the Tau'ri, and the Tok'ra." Martouf whispered, and I could feel the fervour in his mental voice. A mental voice is like an echo that preceeds speech. The words are formed in the mind an instant before they're spoken. It's disorientating until you get accustomed to it... "We cannot allow her to remain as a System Lord's host."

"Selmak and I agree." Jacob said, his voice cold. "She knows too much. And I know Sam would rather die than be host to Anqet."

"But whatever we're going to do, we have to do it quickly."

Khella nodded absently in agreement. At least there was concordance. Then was the matter of how we were meant to do that.

Remember when I said our minds had frozen? They still were slightly sluggish, and so neither Martouf nor myself could think of anything beyond just going up there and shooting the Jaffa to get at Anqet. Obviously we needed a plan with more... subtlety than that. Unless we were all eager for an early death.

"We could ask the Tau'ri for help... they have different methods..." Khella started. I think she meant well, but she was just producing ideas from nowhere.

"No," said Jacob decisively. "We're not going to involve the Tau'ri in this. They think Sam's dead, and she pretty much is in this state. We're not going to get their hopes up."

Martouf and I were in grudging agreement with that, and after a moment, Khella nodded too. "We have to do /something/." he said quietly.

There was a long silence as three Jaffa strode past out alcove and they fell silent to avoid being heard. As they did, a plan, rather simplistic in my opinion, but the only viable one at the time, formed in my mind. Tapping my host mentally on the shoulder, I took over control of our body, and even though I realised my eyes must have glowed, I made sure there was no voice distortion. It's virtually impossible to whisper with the voice distortion.

"I believe," I said quietly, looking significantly towards the Jaffa that were heading away. "That I have an idea."

Khella and Jacob followed my glance and Khella's eyes widened. "It couldn't be that simple." she whispered. "Could it?"

**

It was actually surprisingly easy to get three Jaffa out of sight and to knock them out to steal their uniforms. Khella simply performed her duty as a concerned Ten'vret and had reported a disturbance in a side street. When they had gone to investigate, it hadn't taken much to disable them. Carrying weapons into the town had made taking them out much easier as well. It was decided, since there was no way we could pretend that Khella was a Jaffa, that Jacob and Martouf would dress in the armour and Khella would accompany as a Ten'vret.

It was also surprisingly easy to gain entrance into Anqet's palace. It didn't seem to be set up to keep intruders out. Something I had told the Tau'ri quite a while earlier resurfaced in my mind. 'Overconfidence was their weakness...' Unfortunately, by remembering that phrase, I also remembered the look on Samantha's face when I had spoken sharp words. That was what had prompted me to withdraw in favour of Martouf more than risking offending the Tau'ri.

They did have to be told though. I don't regret that.

Navigating our way around the palace was another matter entirely. In spite of Martouf's rather flippant suggestion, it wasn't as if we could walk up to somewhere, ask where the Queen was, whilst being heavily armed, without looking suspicious. It just wouldn't have worked.

For Jaffa anyway.

Khella went up to one of the guards, head bowed, arms folded against her stomach and hands hidden by the long sleeves of her robe, every bit a subservient little Ten'vret. I knew it had to be annoyed Makar to act that way.

"Excuse me..." Khella said to the Jaffa pair she approached. "I only just began work in the palace and cannot find Her Majesty's throne room. If I do not deliver her her meal..." Khella managed to quiver slightly, as if terrified of dire consequences.

"Good actress." commented Jacob from where we were hiding just around the corner of the corridor. Martouf barely heard him, but I caught the words.

One of the Jaffa seemed to take pity on her, and I had no doubt that Makar, who is a rather bloodthirsty individual at the best of times, was yearning to show the Jaffa that she needed /no/ pity. Khella, fortunately, is a less proud individual.

"You won't last long if you don't learn your way around, Little Ten'vret." he told her sharply, gesturing imperiously down the corridor and giving her a series of instructions that Martouf and I both took note of.

Khella bobbed her head and muttered thanks several times in rapid-fire Goa'uld, until the Jaffa gruffly dismissed the eager-to-please Ten'vret. She crept down the corridor, until she reached the corner and Martouf and Jacob's position. She turned out of sight of the other Jaffa and tilted her head. Martouf and Jacob both nodded to show they had heard, and the three of us started in the direction the Jaffa had indicated.

We probably should have realised what to look for without having to consult the Jaffa. Goa'uld all have something in common, apart from their generally nasty disposition; they love ostentatious design. They love building walls covered in heiroglyphs that depict the lineages of Goa'uld and how many foes they vanquished in the time before it was set down in writing, how enemies would be punished... it's meant to be demoralising, I think. Of course, if, like many of the Tau'ri, you do not read Goa'uld hieroglyphs (which Doctor Jackson informed me once was very dissimilar from Ancient Eygptian hieroglyphs in some key respects) than the effect is lost.

And the large double doors decorated with Anqet's seal and several semi-precious stones were something of a... what did Jacob call it?... a give away. We had observed Anqet withdrawing into the palace after her little 'demonstration' and we assumed that she had gone to her throne room. Well, that was what we hoped. We were correct, of course.

We removed our helmets. For a start peripheral vision is severely comprimised with the helmets. It's probably why so many of the Jaffa cannot shoot the broadside of a stationary Teltak. Of course, it would lea us open to recognition. We would just have to act fast.

Jacob and I opened the doors and strode in, in the manner of any Jaffa who had good business to be there.

"Jaffa, kree!" barked the figure on the throne. "I gave orders that I not be disturbed."

"Kal'nek shree Jaffa!" I snapped. "Kal'nak shree Tok'ra."

Anqet's eyes flared dangerously and she started to raise her left hand, ribbon device starting to glow.

"Don't!" Jacob warned, making it clear that if she tried anything, he would shoot. I didn't doubt it, personally. Jacob loves his daughter, and would kill her to save her from a fate worse than death.

Anqet stood up slowly, jewelry clinking softly as she did so, and she regarded Jacob and I with a long, slow gaze.

"We know you." Anqet said, a cruel-looking smile creeping onto her face. "You are of the Tok'ra. Two very important members of the Tok'ra at that." She grinned. "This must be Our lucky day." she said, deliberately using a Tau'ri phrase she had plucked from the host mind, knowing the effect it would have on us. She raised her left hand, the one with the hand device on it.

I had initially had some misgivings about Khella's assignment as a member of our team (but then, I'd had some misgivings about Martouf's assignment because he was miserable... he wasn't miserable now, was he? Desperate to retrieve Samantha, yes, but not miserable). Her smaller build has often fooled people (alright, that /does/ include me) into thinking that she is weak.

While Anqet was gloating, Khella had snuck up behind her and before the Goa'uld knew what was happening, she hand wrapped her arms around Anqet's neck and squeezed, hard. There was a brief pause, and then Anqet collapsed to the ground, unconscious, the red glow of the hand device flickering out.

Weak. Of course.

"I've never been able to master that." mused Selmak, earning a light smile from Khella.

"It's a skill." she said, pulling off her own robe and starting to drape it over Anqet's body as Jacob and my host approached, pulling Anqet to her feet. Martouf's thoughts immediately began to wander, and I realised what he was looking for as he stared at her.

The action of pulling her to her feet had caused Samantha's head to loll forward, revealing an ugly pink line marring her skin at the back of her neck. I felt Martouf shiver, and personally would have felt nauseous, if that had been physiologically possible. At least Jolinar had not left such a tangible physical reminder of her possession. My mate had been that considerate at least.

Martouf reassured me the scar could be removed with a few passes from a healing device, and repeated my own advice from earlier to me. That we had to concentrate on removing the parasite, and getting the host back to the Tok'ra. Grateful for the reminder, I forced Martouf to ignore the scar and pay attention, as Khella finished pulling the Ten'vret robe over the Goa'uld's finery, effectively hiding her face. Khella herself was attired in the clothing of the townspeople, so she would not attract undue attention without the robe.

Somehow, we managed to sneak her out of the palace, only once coming upon a Jaffa, who stared at us as we passed, utterly confused. Khella put on her best timid voice and apologised to the Jaffa.

"She just can't hold her drink." she told them with a smile.

**

If getting out of the palace was relatively easy, (I had to wonder why all our missions weren't that simple) then getting out of the town was difficult. At one point, Anqet revived, and we had to knock her out with a zat'nik'atel to stop her from shouting for her Jaffa. As we approached the town gates, we had to start running and firing as the Jaffa realised someone had taken their Queen and discovered that we weren't carrying an extremely drunk young woman.

We managed to find a natural ditch, covered by many fallen, dead branches, where we managed to hide for nearly an hour. In that time, Anqet pulled herself back to consciousness three times, each time resulting in our having to subdue her again. Each time we fired on her, I felt as if we were doing this to Samantha... causing her pain... which we were. The host may not be in control of the body, but they still feel the pain from damaged nerves (as Martouf has informed me on several occasions after we have been shot or tortured). I wanted to apologise to her... but neither Martouf nor I were going to give the Goa'uld the satisfaction of hearing that.

The Jaffa moved away from our area after that hour, and the three of us managed to sneak our way across the flatland, to where the Chaapa'ai stood. There were four Jaffa standing at the Chaapa'ai, weapons at the ready.

"We're going to have to be very precise." murmured Jacob to Khella and myself, as I had taken over Martouf's body. "Fast and accurate..."

Anqet made a small noise, groaning in pain. Presumably unwilling the risk the sound of a zat'nik'atel being heard by the Jaffa, Khella quickly reached over and pinched the back of Anqet's neck. She collapsed once more onto the slightly muddy ground.

"Fast and accurate." repeated Khella, pulling her own weapon out. "I believe I can do that."

"Are we to kill them?" I asked tilting my head towards the Jaffa.

"I don't care." replied Jacob. "Just take them out."

Khella and I nodded in agreement, and the three of us, in a few shots each, had knocked all of the guards out. I personally wasn't bothered about whether we had killed any of them. Four less to worry about in our fight against the Goa'uld.

To quote the Tau'ri: big loss.

Jacob and I picked up Samantha, while Khella hurridly dialed off Yarra, hearing the unmistakeably heavy footsteps of Jaffa approaching the Chaapa'ai.

Knowing that if the Jaffa caught up to us, they would see our destination before the Chaapa'ai disengaged, we gated to a Tok'ra staging world. Sometimes used, as Vorash was, to launch attacks against the System Lords from, rather than have the attacks originate from the Homeworld, the planets are usually abandoned as soon as the mission is complete. Why leave anything for the Goa'uld to find? So, it was a good place to jump to, and then redial out to the Tok'ra homeworld.

The world we were based from at the time was a climate that was quite wooded, but had a tendency towards nearly constant rainfall. Fortunately, when we arrived, it was only a light drizzle that we were being subjected to, the mud clinging to anything it touched. By the time we reached the transport rings, most of Anqet's robes were almost black.

'Shame.' Martouf put forward sarcastically. O'Neill's been a bad influence on him I think.

It wasn't hard to locate a Healer; one of the sentries had met us at the Chaapa'ai and had run on ahead to get one ready for when we reached the tunnels. Tren was the one who had been called, and, amazingly, didn't comment on the host, although I could hear several people who were trying to make it appear as if they were not watching muttering about it.

Tren waved a hand scanner over Samantha's unconscious form. "Her nervous system is misfiring badly." He frowned and looked up at us. "How many times did you fire on her with a zat'nik'atel?" he asked flatly.

"She became violent whenever she regained consciousness," said Khella in a small, barely audible voice. "So... six... seven times?"

Tren made a vaguely disgusted sound and tapped on the shoulders of the two nearest Tok'ra, Niauli/Yshyn and Zebara/Kris, who weren't healers, but just happened to be around at the time. Exchanging glances, the two took Samantha's arms and dragged her own the corridor after Tren.

"What is going on here?" came the strident voice of Garshaw as she approached, looking after Tren as he disappeared from sight. "Was that...?"

"Samantha? Yes." said Martouf, feeling distinctly uncomfortable in front of Garshaw's wilting glare.

'What's the worst she can do?' I asked my host rhetorically. His response, extremely pessimistic, can't be translated into words.

"Is she not...?"

"Dead? Apparently not." finished Jacob.

Garshaw's gaze flickered between Jacob and Martouf, before sliding to Khella, who was attempting to keep a low profile just behind Jacob. "Start from the beginning." she instructed.

Alternating between Martouf and Jacob, the two told the story, Khella remaining silent except for the occasional narrative comment.

Garshaw was obviously trying not to sigh. "And you felt that it was of utmost importance not to tell the rest of us before you decided to take her? What if you had been captured in the attempt?"

"Master Garshaw," I spoke, having managed to get Martouf to let me have control. "Samantha holds the knowledge of both the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri. It was imperative to retrieve her as quickly as possible. Returning here and organising a mission would have taken too long."

Garshaw paused, staring hard at me, then she indicated her agreement with a nod. "I will not dispute that," she conceded. "But do not /ever/ do it again." Khella, Jacob and I nodded. "We will discuss this further, later." Garshaw promised.

"Tok'ra, kree! Em'tol Anqet!" there was a yell from down the corridor. With a brief glance at Garshaw, I turned away and started down the corridor, coming to the room where three people were lying on the floor. The Healer, Tren, was unconscious, and Niauli, cradling her jaw, was being helped to her feet by Zebara.

I guessed it was Zebara who had shouted, considering she was the only one who would have been conscious long enough. Niauli was the one to speak as I entered.

"Anqet regained consciousness fasted than expected," she said, answering my unspoken question. She pointed to the doorway. "She knocked us down and ran out."

Trusting that none of those in the room were about to die, I ran out of the room to the corridor beyond, hearing the voices of various Tok'ra from the direction of a large crowd just ahead. Martouf asked to take back control of his body and I withdrew to let him.

There was a lot of shouting, mainly revolving around the phrase, "Get her!" and a few seconds later, after a tremendous crash, the crowd parted enough for Martouf to force his way through the group to where Anqet had been taken down.

Obviously she had put up a fight, for all of her limbs were pinned down by four Tok'ra, and a fifth was had placed a knee between her shoulder blades and had pinned her head to the ground with his hands.

"We will destroy you for this!" she was snarling, trying vainly to struggle her way to freedom.

"Yeah, right," snapped Jacob, and Martouf looked up to see him step through the crowd with two armed guards by his side. "Erinye," Selmak said, taking over for her host, "Subdue the Goa'uld."

Erinye, a dark skinned woman who used to hold a seat on the Council, before Cordesh forcibly took her as a host, stepped forward and reached down with a sure grip, pinching the back of Anqet's neck. Martouf winced in sympathy for what it would feel like for Samantha, were she still in control. I reminded him that she was not in control, and he would do well to remember that.

A few seconds later, Anqet stopped struggling, and fell into a deep slumber. The Tok'ra gently got to their feet, wary of awakening the Goa'uld, and the two guards picked her up and hauled her off to a more secure room deeper within the facility.

I decided that then was the time to state my opinion. "This only goes to show," I said, once Martouf had allowed me control of our body once more. "That we must remove the Goa'uld immediately. We cannot risk her escaping. Samantha would wish for us to remove the Goa'uld, even if it meant her death."

Jacob glanced at me sharply, as if disputing what his daughter would have wanted, but then he nodded, looking to Tren. "When can you perform it?"

"The host body is still weak..." Tren broke off as he realise that Jacob and I were both glaring at him. "But I will ask the others to prepare to conduct the proceedure immediately."

With typical curtness, he spun on his heel and headed for Samantha's newest room, followed closely by Erinye, and Martouf.

**

I had known that it was intensely painful for a host to have a symbiote forcibly removed from their body - I remember Erinye's vivid description of the feeling after Cordesh had been removed - but neither Martouf nor I could prevent ourselves from standing in the room during the proceedure. Erinye looked as if she were experiencing the pain in sympathy for what she had gone through herself, but she managed to perform her task admirably.

The basic principle behind the removal technology (according to Martouf; I claim no knowledge of healing other than that which Martouf provides), is that it reactivates the host body's immune system, which symbiotes subdue upon Blending with the host. It's a necessary evil, if we didn't do that, then the host's body would attack us as a foreign entity. It's why the immune systems are removed from Jaffa (in addition to ensuring loyalty). Since we provide regenerative abilities to the host, then it is not so much of a problem.

According to the memories of the previous hosts I have Blended with, when the immune system is fighting a foreign organism, there are often unpleasant side-effects on the host. When an immune system fights a Goa'uld, and the Goa'uld fights back... the results are... almost unbearable. Apparently.

And it was more than apparent in this case. Samantha was lain on her side, moaning in agony as her immune system was revived and the use of additional technology was employed to cause pain to the symbiote. Martouf gripped Samantha's shoulder throughout, holding her still, and Erinye dabbed a cool cloth to Samantha's forehead.

Eventually, Martouf tells me, there is a point where instinct takes over. The parasite no longer controls its own actions, and it instinctively leaves the body that is trying to kill it, that is causing so much pain, and departs to seek a new host.

Which was the rather unpleasant conclusion to the whole ordeal. Samantha suddenly jerked most of her upper body forward violently, mouth open wide and sounding as if she were retching. There was nothing we could do but smoothe her hair back from her face, and murmur reassuring words to her in her own language.

She made a choking noise and the tip of the parasite's head could be seen trying to leave her body through her mouth. It was instinctively moving very rapidly, hoping to acquire a new host, but Erinye was faster, gripping the creature above and beneath its spines, holding it in place while it screeched and hissed, writhing and trying to get free.

She pressed her thumb to a point just above the red jewel-like eyes, putting pressure on a nerve junction (it is this which can also subdue a Goa'uld while in a host, but it takes greater skill while it is so), causing the parasite to go into torpor. Once it had stopped struggling, she deposited it, not so gently, into a container prepared for it.

Samantha sagged suddenly, her ragged breathing seemingly the only sound in the room. Then, softly at first, she began weeping, the crying turning into sobbing in a matter of seconds. Martouf could do nothing but retain his hold on her and hope that it was reassuring in some manner.

"I will inform Garshaw and Selmak that the Goa'uld is removed." Erinye said, looking to Tren and myself briefly, then gesturing to two of the guards to pick up the heavy container and carry it out of room, walking a few steps ahead of them.

Tren pressed a sedative patch against her arm, and in a few seconds, Samantha's sobbing ceased, replaced by the stillness of a drug-induced slumber. We don't have many drugs, mainly soporifics and analgesics, but what we had was apparently enough.

"She will sleep." Tren said as he followed the others out of the room. "And when she has regained more of her strength, we will conduct a more thorough examination of her physical and mental state." He was wise not to tell us to leave. I would have probably hit him. If I had been in control, which I hadn't.

'Do you think she will recover... mentally?' I asked as Martouf retrieved a piece of equipment from a contrainer.

Martouf said nothing as he waved the healing device over the back of Samantha's neck, removing the mark of a Goa'uld infestation. It was the least we could do.

**

I would have helped care for her in the days... or was it weeks...? after the removal and disposal of the Goa'uld; Martouf being eminently qualified for that task, but Erinye pointedly said that she was recovering from Goa'uld infestation, and my presence might unnerve her, as would the presence of any other Tok'ra. Tren agreed, and as such, Erinye was the only person who spent much time around Samantha.

Martouf and I suggested, at one point, sending an envoy to the Tau'ri to persuade their Doctor to come to us to help Samantha in her recovery, but Jacob vetoed that idea. He said that it was not certain whether or not Samantha would recover from this, and that there was no point in giving her friends false hope that all would be well. Besides which, he said to us, they had no idea how to cope with an ex-host. There was no support for it.

I almost mentioned that we had virtually no support for it either, but he was so determined that I kept my peace.

We tried to talk to Samantha on several occasions. But she didn't respond. On the first occasion we had tried, Samantha was still sobbing uncontrollably and had to be sedated. Whenever we tried again... we got nothing. Absolutely nothing.

We tried to talk to Erinye about it. But she was less than forthcoming with information, and I will admit to having lost my temper slightly.

"There has to be something you can do!" I snapped, leaning onto the table that Erinye had been sitting at alone, silently eating her meal which seemed to consist of something purple and pink.

To be honest, I've always thought that food we picked up on Fro'shan was a little suspect. But food wasn't what we were there to discuss.

"What do you expect of me, Lantesh?" demanded Erinye, waving her fork at me. "I cannot work miracles. They are not my speciality. Samantha's recovery is not something that can be forced."

Martouf loudly recommended that he be allowed to take over. I grudgingly allowed him to do so. Martouf offered Erinye a small smile. "I apologise for Lantesh," I objected to that remark. "He is as eager to see Samantha recovered as I am."

Erinye didn't smile back. That wasn't especially surprising. Erinye hasn't smiled since Cordesh forced her to become a host, killing her own symbiote in the process. She also asked not to become a host a third time, unable to come to terms with the thought.

I can't imagine what she went through, as I cannot imagine what Samantha went through with Jolinar and Anqet. It's beyond my field of possible experience; as a symbiote, rather than a host, I will never even have the threat of experiencing such a fate. A living death, as Erinye termed it.

"She's severely depressed, withdrawn into herself, almost cataleptic." Erinye said in her usual crisp tone. "She hasn't responded to any one or anything." Erinye tilted her head to regard us with a piercing gaze that made me feel rather uncomfortable, and caused Martouf to automatically straighten. "Attempting to push her into communicating with the outside world is not wise."

"You're sure." Martouf said slowly.

Erinye tilted her head. "She has been severely traumatised by her experience. She has had to undergo violent possession not only once, but twice. And this time, she was forced to watch herself kill people she knew." Erinye's glare said she knew what she was talking about, and clearly thought that neither Martouf nor I were capable of understanding. Perhaps we weren't.

"That she has managed to survive with anything of her mind left intact to become depressed is nothing short of a miracle," Erinye continued, regardless of the fact that Martouf's body language showed she had won. I automatically told him to stop looking like he was about to run away. "The last thing she needs is for Tok'ra, those who host that which has ruined her life, to be forcing her to interact with them." She paused and looked deep into Martouf's eyes, and I had the discomforting impression that she was trying to stare at me also. "Am I clear?" she finished.

"You're telling me there's nothing you can do for her." Martouf said, his voice tinged with pain from the two of us.

Erinye's face softened just slightly. "I'm sorry." she said. "Whether she wants to come out of it..." She glanced away, and I could pretty much fill in the rest of what she would have said.

Martouf stared at her for a moment, then nodded slowly. Erinye raised her chin and swept out of the room, leaving Martouf and I with no idea what we were supposed to do next.

**

We wandered the facility for several hours, almost going to Samantha's chamber several times, but each time, either Martouf or myself reminded the other of Erinye's words, and we took another corridor. We tried to get some sleep, and I was able to induce slumber for Martouf, allowing him to rest somewhat. I only wish that I had been able to do the same for myself. Instead, I was consigned to staring at the ceiling of our quarters, and made the discovery that there are forty seven main crystal branches in the ceiling structure, eight of those being luminescent crystals for lighting.

Morning was a long time in coming.

When it finally did arrive, neither of us could take it any more, and we found ourselves, just after the midday meal, standing just outside Samantha's room. She was lying on her bed, facing the wall, eyes wide open, and the coverings slightly crumpled where her hands had maintained a grip on it for... who knew how long?

"Samantha?" Martouf called softly as he entered, not wanting to startle her. "How are you feeling today?"

Predictably, there was no response. It didn't stop me from hoping there would be one though. I had become so fond of Samantha... seeing such an intelligent, vibrant young woman reduced to... this. It was heart-breaking. In the figurative sense, of course, I have no central organ which regulates my circulatory functions.

"Lantesh and I were hoping you felt a little better." Martouf continued, forcing the words out. I automatically reduced the involuntary muscle contraction in his throat, making Martouf's speech easier, but my efforts were immediately countermanded by some back portion of his mind. Why can't Humans control these things?

"I know..." he said. "That you're not feeling good at the moment. Although that's something of an understatement..." Martouf smiled, but there was no true mirth behind it, and it quickly faded. "We want you to get better, Samantha," he told her. "It's hardly fun in here. And counting the crystals on the walls gets boring after a while... Samantha... I can't pretend to understand what you're going through... but I can listen... if you'll just tell me."

Silence. It was so quiet. There was the soft sound of Samantha's own subdued breathing, and of Martouf's. The breathing was the only indicated she was alive.

"Samantha... please... just talk to me..." Martouf's words were softly spoken, but to our ears, it was like they had been shouted. Martouf looked into Samantha's eyes as they stared at the wall unblinkingly.

There was nothing. No emotion in her gaze. No anger, no spine-chilling coolness; just... nothing. She was dead inside. She didn't even respond when Martouf placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to get her attention.

Disheartened, I suggested to Martouf that maybe it was better we withdraw to a distance, to give her some space as Erinye suggested. Martouf did so, and I was a little surprised to find Selmak standing just outside the doorway, having observed the whole scene, but having appeared without our noticing him.

"How is she?" Selmak asked when Martouf stepped into place beside him, observing his host's daughter from that vantage point.

"It's like..." Martouf hesitated, trying to draw the correct words. I thought for a moment on the situation myself, then offered an analogy that seemed appropriate. "When you view a star from a great distance," he started slowly, putting my analogy into words. "You see the light, even though the star may have been dead for thousands of years..."

Selmak saw where we were going. "She looks alive, but it's like there's nothing at the source."

"Yes," responded Martouf softly, turning and gazing at Samantha as she lay curled on her side in her room, hands clutching the blanket tightly. "Do you think there's any hope for her?" my host asked.

Selmak followed Martouf gaze. "I don't know." he responded truthfully. He remained only a few moments longer, then turned and left the corridor, heading in the direction of his own quarters.

Martouf stared at Samantha for a long time, just standing there, watching her. I made no attempt to get him to leave, because, deep down, I couldn't bear to leave her. Eventually, after some indeterminate length of time, Erinye appeared, carrying a bowl of soup in her hands. She glared significantly at us as she entered, the meaning behind her eyes clear. We stayed a few moments longer, and then left.

It would be nearly a year before I saw Samantha again.

**

The search that was put on to find Samantha only equalled in scale the search that was put on to find Charlie, the Human boy the Rhi'tou had created. When he had discovered that every one of the Humans among the Tok'ra hosted a symbiote, he had become terrified and had somehow managed to find somewhere to hide. Sentries had scouted the local area on the surface, and virtually every member of the Tok'ra below ground had been employed in trying to find him.

Eventually, it was Erinye, who, without a symbiote, hadn't frightened him that much, who had located him, and when pressed for details about his hiding place, had said nothing concrete.

Did that sound like foreshadowing? Good. Because it was meant to.

After nearly four hours of continual searching, following the startling discovery that a supposedly cataleptic woman had disappeared from her chambers, with everyone involved in the search coming up with nothing, I found myself in the council chambers, along with Jacob and Garshaw.

"The sentries on the surface say that they have found no trace of Samantha, and no one has travelled through the Chaapa'ai in several hours." I reported tersely, trying not to let any of my anxiety show. Martouf was no help in calming, he was as frantic as I.

Jacob frowned. "Who was that?" he asked. "The last person to travel through the Chaapa'ai?"

I frowned, trying to remember, and Martouf helpfully supplied the name that the sentry had given. "Erinye."

It was Garshaw's turn to frown this time. "She was not given permission to travel through the Chaapa'ai."

There was a silence in the room, then Jacob turned and snapped an order at one of the guards that are always present in the Council chambers, telling him to find Erinye, waiting impatiently for the woman to arrive.

Jacob wasted no time in laying into Erinye once she appeared, escorted by the guard. "Where is she?"

"Of who are you referring?" Erinye asked. Her innocent expression was blatently false. She knew she had been caught, but obviously had no intention of co-operating.

"Samantha!" snapped Martouf, agitated.

"You know we cannot locate her." Garshaw's eyes glowed with strong emotion. "Where is she?"

Erinye narrowed her eyes and set her mouth into a line. I could tell that she wasn't going to give up any information willingly.

"You know where she is." Jacob stated. It was not a question. "You took her from this facility and you took her to another world."

Erinye's gaze flickered between each of us. "She couldn't take it anymore." she whispered fiercely. "Being forced to live among those who had violated her."

"The Tok'ra did nothing to her." Garshaw said pointedly.

Erinye's expression was unreadable. "Jolinar did." Martouf wasn't able to control the muscular spasm that resulted from that particular mention, but I was feeling so terrible that I didn't bother to comment on it.

"First the Tok'ra, who she trusted." said Erinye, bitterness apparent in her voice. "Then the Goa'uld, who she despised. I truly believe Samantha had the worst of both worlds." Erinye straightened and glared at Garshaw, my host, and Jacob in turn. "I feel no remorse for taking her from this place."

"Where is she?" said Jacob in a low, dangerous voice, taking a step towards Erinye.

She stood her ground, raising her chin a little defiantly. "Somewhere where she no longer has to cope by being surrounded by those she hates."

Martouf felt nauseous. I would have, had I possessed a stomach.

"And where," Garshaw said, "Might that be?"

Erinye gave a tight, humourless smile, sat down on one of the crystalline chairs and folded her arms across her chest.

"I see no reason to tell you." she responded.

-End