First Prime:

PRIMAL

by Geonn Cannon

 

The point of the spade dug into the dry ground, sending plumes of gray-brown dirt into the air. Sam leaned against the handle and bowed her head, working her neck back and forth to try and loosen the knots between her shoulder blades. She had no real way of telling if her homemade thermometer was accurate, but it had indicated 126 degrees in the shade when she'd started out that morning. It was only going to get hotter.

 

She unhooked the leather bladder from her belt, flipped open the lid and took a miserly sip. It was barely enough to wet her lips, but it would have to do. She didn't want to walk all the way back to the well before this section was done. She gripped the metal handle of the shovel with hands protected by thick work gloves, and used her foot to press the bowl into the ground.

 

"Ca'ter," a man called from behind her.

 

She sighed and continued to dig. The man refused to call her by her real name. She waited until his shadow crossed hers before she responded. "What is it now, Kal'et?"

 

Kal'et was a thin rail of a man, his torso and arms threaded with powerful muscle. His abnormally large head was perched atop a spindly neck and his eyes seemed near bursting from his skull. The symbol for Ba'al was carved into his forehead and cast a ghostly spark into his shadow. He stopped a few feet behind her and said, "Meleé has grown ill."

 

Sam stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. Meleé was a young girl who had only recently arrived in the camp with her mother, exiles from Moloc's temple. "Is it fever? Chills?"

 

Kal'et nodded. "Both. She is weak. She has no desire to eat or drink. She cannot sleep for the pain."

 

She looked down at the shovel and decided that this chore could wait until another day. She hadn't yet been able to chart this planet's seasons and the locals had been little to no help. She just had to pray tomorrow would be cooler. She planted the shovel in the dirt and let it like a signpost for her return. She turned and gestured for Kal'et to lead the way.

 

The shanty town still had a ways to go before it was called an actual village, but Sam was pleased with the progress. Streets had formed, the tiny huts strung together with low fences and clothes lines. They formed a ring around the log cabins Sam and her men had constructed upon arriving on this planet. She could smell dinners being cooked inside the homes she passed, and saw children slipping between the gaps in the fences to continue their games. Sam felt a surge of pride; this was her doing, her town, her people. She followed Kal'et through the village, offering polite greetings to those she passed. Everyone knew her, and what she represented.

 

Meleé and her family lived in a small hut on the outskirts of the shanty town. Meleé's mother, a petit woman named Kaira, stood when Sam approached their hut. "Carter. You have come. Tha..." She hesitated, the words "thank Moloc" dying on her lips. Old habits.

 

Sam clapped the woman on the shoulder and peered into the darkness of the hut. "Meleé has fallen ill?"

 

"Yes," Kaira said. She clasped her hands in front of her and chewed her bottom lip. "I fear..."

 

"Moloc didn't do this," Sam said. She forced Kaira to look at her and repeated herself. "Moloc did not do this. He doesn't know where you are. Even if he did, he could not have made Meleé ill. Do you understand me?"

 

Kaira nodded, but a bit reluctantly.

 

"May I see her?"

 

"Yes. Yes, please."

 

Sam released Kaira and stepped into the dark house. It was a one-room structure, dark despite the sun high in the sky. The three windows were covered by thick sheets. Sam stepped around the low dinner table and knelt next to the nearest bed. She could see movement beneath the thin blankets and lightly touched Meleé's foot. "Meleé? Are you awake?"

 

"Carter?"

 

Sam smiled. The girl turned her pale face and the light from the doorway illuminated her features. She managed a weak smile that almost immediately collapsed on itself.

 

"I heard you were sick," Sam said. She pressed the back of her hand against the girl's cheek. She winced at how warm it felt.

 

"Pretty sick."

 

"You look pretty when you're well, too," Sam said as she sat on the mattress next to her. "Is it your stomach?" The girl nodded. "Ah. You know, where I come from, we call that a tummy-ache. Funny word, huh? Tummy. Does your head hurt, too?"

 

"The light hurts it," she said.

 

That explains the curtains, Sam thought. "Were you sick before you arrived here?" The girl shook her head. "Okay. I'm going to let you rest. I'll come back to see you soon, okay?"

 

"Okay."

 

"Rest well." Sam waited until the girl's breathing slowed before she stood and walked back to the doorway. She shut the door halfway, blocking the light from hitting the girl's bed. She turned back to Kaira and said, "She's in bad shape."

 

"It is the same?" Kal'et said, his bugged-out eyes wide with fear.

 

Sam glared at him and said, "It looks like it."

 

"Same?" Kaira asked. "What is he talking about?"

 

Sam sighed and adjusted the strap of her belt. "About six months ago, there was an outbreak in the camp. We lost about a half dozen of our people. We relocated. There was a quarantine between the two camps to make sure no one was infected without knowing..."

 

"But Meleé has this... this same illness?"

 

Sam bowed her head, her long blonde hair falling down over her eyes. After a moment, she admitted, "It looks the same. It must have been lying dormant waiting for a fresh immune system. Since she doesn't have a symbiote..."

 

"Meleé has a symbiote," Kaira whispered. "She received it two days before we left Moloc's court. It is... why we hesitated as long as we did to leave." She embraced herself and pressed her chin to her chest.

 

Sam finally let a bit of worry creep into her features. Kal'et said, "It can attack those with symbiotes. Like last time."

 

"We'll get more medicine from the villagers," Sam said. "We'll..."

 

"The villagers were reluctant to give us what they did the first time," Kal'et interrupted. "You do not believe they will allow us more do you? We have nothing to offer them. And if we are forced to relocate again, our crops..."

 

Sam fixes her cold stare at him and growled, "Shut. Up. We don't have the luxury of panicking. Perhaps Meleé has caught a different illness. We mustn't jump to conclusions this early. Kaira. Keep Meleé isolated from the rest of the villagers until she recovers."

 

"And if she doesn't?" Kal'et asked.

 

Kaira sobbed into a cupped hand and Sam wanted to throttle the man for his indiscretion. "She will recover," Sam insisted. "And when she does, you will apologize for needlessly frightening this woman." She turned to Kaira and said, "Come find me in the morning. I promised her I would visit."

 

Kaira nodded and Sam stepped away from the hut.

 

Three days later, Sam buried Meleé.

 

~

 

Seventeen Jaffa fell ill in two weeks time. Most survived longer than Meleé; her symbiote had been new, her immune system shocked, and the illness had overtaken her small, defenseless body. Sam had buried the girl herself, nearly brought to tears by the horrifyingly small shroud. She refused any assistance, digging the grave herself in 144 degree heat, according to the thermometer. Other Jaffa stood at a respectful distance, watching as she dug the hole.

 

Last time the disease struck, they had moved ten miles from their previous camp. The temperature difference between the two sites should have been negligible, but Sam swore that it was on average at least twenty degrees hotter at the new site. Sweat poured into her eyes and, as she swept it away, her fingers brushed the gold emblem embedded in her flesh. A memory of another life.

 

She'd had so many previous lives. Samantha Carter, army brat. Daughter of the Colonel, then the General. Cadet Carter, such a promising student with stars in her eyes and the best brain in the world behind them. Lieutenant Carter, budding young soldier and brilliant scientist. Captain Carter, working tirelessly on a top-secret project while she impatiently watched the wait-list for NASA growing fractionally shorter. Samantha Carter, POW and exile. Samantha Carter, First Prime of Apophis.

 

And now, she was Samantha Carter, leader of a small group of free Jaffa. It had been Bra'tac's dream, his and his disciple Teal'c's, but they were both dead. Buried on Chulak, but not forgotten. Sam would bring their dreams to fruition. Or die trying.

 

Sweat poured down her spine, over her arms and between her breasts. She had removed her blouse and worked in only the short leather trousers she usually wore for farming. She had long since gotten over her shyness about public nudity. Sometimes it was just necessary, damn it, and modesty was just another luxury they couldn't afford.

 

As the blade of her shovel dug into the ground to start yet another grave, she heard a voice behind her. She didn't bother to cover her chest as she turned. Kal'et stood at the edge of their new cemetery. She didn't need to ask what his news was. She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on the handle of her tool. She quietly asked, "Who?"

 

Kal'et looked down at his feet and then said, "Kaira."

 

Sam dropped the shovel and pushed her hair out of her face. She looked down at the grave, the dirt piled in a small mound on top of it. The girl had barely displaced any ground at all. A tear rolled down Sam's cheek, cold against her steaming skin, and she moved to wipe it away as it evaporated. She walked out of the cemetery and grabbed her blouse off the fencepost as she passed.

 

Kal'et followed her to Kaira's hut, but waited outside as Sam went in. Kaira was curled on her daughter's death bed. Sam sat in the same spot, took a frail brown hand in both of hers. She squeezed and Kaira opened her eyes. "Carter." She squeezed back, but Sam barely registered it. There was no strength behind the grip.

 

"Kaira," Sam said. "I am so sorry."

 

Kaira's face was wet with tears. "You promised."

 

"The villagers have refused us any further treatment," Kal'et said from the door. "They are afraid we will spread the illness to them."

 

Sam looked over her shoulder and saw Kal'et framed by sunlight in the door of the hut. There was no accusation in his eyes, no anger in his expression. Just resignation. He had already given up. Sam sagged against the bed and kissed Kaira's knuckles. I promised them all a better life. And now this damn virus is wiping them out as efficiently as any goddamned false god.

 

Sam cursed under her breath and stood up. She stormed out of the hut and Kal'et fell into step beside her. "What shall we do? Stay here and fall ill? Move to another camp, wait for winter to come and die from hunger?"

 

"Shut up," Sam told him. "There's another option."

 

"Another option?" Kal'et said. "What..."

 

"Earth," Sam said. Kal'et stopped where he was and watched her retreating back. She looked back at him and said, "The Tau'ri have medicine."

 

~

 

There wasn't enough to call Sam's cabin a home; it was a one-room building, with a bed in one corner, a desk in the other and a small table for eating between them. The desk was stacked with books she had managed to scrounge from one place or another. She was teaching herself to read other languages, but it was excruciatingly slow going. Still, a book was a book. She tried to read for an hour every night before bed, but most days exhaustion kept her from succeeding.

 

She pushed through the door and Kal'et stopped respectfully at the threshold. He watched as Sam knelt next to her bed, dug underneath it and withdrew a large leather satchel. She put the bag on her bed and began to dig through it. "The Tau'ri?" he said. "You truly believe they will be willing to offer assistance?"

 

"You would rather watch everyone in this village die a slow death?" Sam said. She found the radio Janet Fraiser had given her all those years ago and cradled it in her hands. So much was imbued in the small black box. Her past, the life she was supposed to have lived, everything that had been stolen from her by one damn stupid mistake. And hope. Hope that someone hadn't turned their back on her, that someone could see past what Sam had been through to who she was.

 

She stripped out of the sweaty leather pants, tossing them aside and grabbing a pair of cloth trousers from the foot locker by the bed. She pulled on a cotton shirt and began tying the string that held the v-neck together. She stopped in front of Kal'et, who had paid no attention to her nudity. He was too shocked by what she was planning. "Get three Jaffa. Tell them to bring their staff weapons, and bring one for me. We're going to Earth for help, but I'll be damned if I'll let them ambush us."

 

~

 

"Do you wish to speak?"

 

Janet looked up, shocked when she realized the man was talking to her. She smiled gently and scanned the room. "Oh. Oh, no, not... not me."

 

"You sure?"

 

She toyed with the cuticle of her thumbnail for a moment and realized that he wasn't going to give up. If she declined, he would ask again at the end of the meeting, and at the beginning of next week. If she started to stay away for fear of being called on and... She sighed and pushed herself to her feet. Every eye in the room was fixed on her, their combined weight pushing down on her shoulders so hard that she nearly retook her seat. "My, uh... my name is Janet. And I'm an alcoholic."

 

"Hi, Janet."

 

She looked around the circle and saw everyone who had already spoken. She knew all their stories; might as well share her own. "My daughter has had a very, uh... rough life. I adopted her after her parents died. She went through a lot of trauma in a very short time..." She had a sudden flash of Cassandra, alone in a bomb shelter, waiting for someone to come find her while O'Neill and Jackson stood on the surface and waited for a bomb to explode. She swallowed hard, "And she started cutting herself. I tried to deal with it by myself and... the pressure of it all... I started drinking. At first, just to get some sleep at night. But after awhile, I-I couldn't sleep without at least two beers.

 

"I was fooling myself that I had it under control. If I didn't drink in front of other people, if I didn't, you know, overdo it, I would be fine. But... I'm a... I was a doctor. I was drunk when I got an emergency call. I work at a military base and a soldier had come in with some pretty serious injuries.

 

"He may have died anyway. I don't know. All I know is that I was drunk when I started working on him and... he died. After that, I left the military. I stopped practicing medicine. And I'm trying to stop drinking." She laughed and a tear slipped free. "I never though quitting medicine would be harder than putting down a damn bottle. It's been three days since my last drink," she admitted weakly. She had been coming to the meetings for six months and still hadn't been able to get a 30-day chip.

 

The circle of chairs applauded lightly and Janet sat down again.

 

"I'm sure that was very difficult for you," the moderator said. "Thank you, Janet."

 

Janet crossed her legs and toyed with the crease of her trousers. She felt moments away from a breakdown. But she would be strong. She would have to be. For Cassandra.

 

~

 

Kal'et and two other Jaffa flanked Sam at the DHD. The event horizon snapped up and Sam's brain - desperate for any kind of workout - immediately calculated the amount of energy required for the blue puddle to erupt the way it did. Once the connection was made, she pushed aside mathematics and lifted the radio to her lips. "This is Samantha Carter contacting Stargate Command. Please come in."

 

After a moment, General Hammond's voice came over the speaker. "Miss Carter. You are a fugitive from this command."

 

"You were attempting to hand me over to Apophis at the time of my escape. I am technically a fugitive from him." She didn't want this to turn into a debate of semantics, so she got to the point. "I'm calling with a request for humanitarian aid. Several of my people have grown ill. Our medicine can do nothing to help them. I'm requesting the assistance of your medical facilities."

 

"Why would we do that?"

 

"If you were to help us, we would be willing to open diplomatic relations. The free Jaffa are small in number, but we are growing daily. We could be an invaluable ally in the fight against the Goa'uld."

 

"Why should I risk our people in a situation where they may become ill? What guarantee do I have you'll return them safely?"

 

Sam wanted to scream. "Send Janet Fraiser in charge of the medical team. I know she would be willing to come, and you know that I wouldn't put her in harm's way. The last time we ran into one another, I protected her with my own life. I got her safely back to Earth. If you send Janet, you can be assured we will do nothing to harm her."

 

There was a long, pregnant pause before Hammond spoke again. "Contact us again in three hours. We'll have an answer for you then."

 

The Stargate disconnected and Sam dropped the radio to her side.

 

"Now what?" Kal'et asked.

 

"Now we wait," Sam said. "And we pray that no one else dies while they're debating whether or not to help."

 

~

 

Janet slammed the car door and started up the driveway before she realized someone was waiting by the side door. She was carrying a pharmacy bag in one hand, and slipped the other into her purse to wrap around the cylinder of Mace. "Who's there?" she demanded.

 

"Easy, Doc."

 

She relaxed and loosened her grip on the Mace without releasing it completely. She continued up the driveway towards the shadowy figure. She still couldn't see his face, but she would recognize that voice anywhere. "What the hell are you doing here?"

 

Jack O'Neill stepped aside and let her unlock the door. "You haven't been returning my calls. Thought I'd stop by."

 

"You tried to court-martial me," Janet said. She stepped into the house and dropped the pharmacy bag onto the table. She turned on the light and turned to face him, her body language telling him he wasn't invited in.

 

"Everything okay?" Jack asked, indicating the bag.

 

She looked down at it and said, "I'm having trouble sleeping, if it's any of your business." Back to the subject at hand, "I think everything that needed to be said came out at the trial."

 

"You allowed a dangerous--"

 

"She saved my life!"

 

"--woman to escape custody--"

 

"She was my friend!"

 

"--and who knows what kind of damage it would--"

 

"She was your second-in-command." Jack shut up. "She would still be a member of the SGC if you hadn't left her behind." She stared at him for a long moment and said, "Do you want to hit me again? Sir?"

 

Jack seethed, but didn't say anything. The first, and only, time he had hit her was after her court-martial. She had been cleared of the charges and Jack had basically accused her of releasing Hitler back into society. Janet had countered that it was Jack's fault in the first place, that if he hadn't turned and ran. He had lashed out and caught her on the chin, knocking her back a few paces more from shock than actual pain.

 

"General Hammond sent me to bring you back."

 

"I'm not military anymore," Janet said, "so General Hammond can go fuck himself." She swung the door to close it.

 

"It's about Carter," Jack said as the door was about to slam in his face.

 

Janet caught the door, held it for a moment and then pulled it open. She looked up into Jack's face and said, "What about her?"

 

He sighed and looked down the driveway. "She needs your help."

 

~

 

The Stargate activated at the agreed-upon hour. Jack O'Neill and Daniel Jackson stepped through first, weapons ready. Colonel Pierce and SG-7 followed them. All five members of the medical team wore masks, as did both members of SG-1. They weren't taking any chances. From the first mission, SG-1 had become a bit of a cursed team. Kawalsky had been assigned to them to replace Carter, and he had died several days later due to the Goa'uld larvae that had entered him while on Chulak. After that, a steady stream of new members had come and gone.

 

Claire Tobias was in an Area 51 cell with a Goa'uld that claimed to be a Tok'ra in her head. After the experience trying to save Kawalsky, they decided they wouldn't even attempt a surgery on her. Later that same year, Hathor had captured SG-1 and blended Major Feretti with a Goa'uld. Robert Rothman had been killed by a Goa'uld as well. The joke on base was that upon signing up with SG-1, you got a patch for your sleeve and a "Vacancy" sign on the back of your head.

 

At the moment, Jack and Daniel were the sole members with the SG-1 designation. No one else seemed willing to join up, and Hammond wasn't eager to assign anyone.

 

The team gathered on the stone dais and looked down at the one Jaffa waiting at the DHD. He held a staff weapon trained on Jack and looked to have no qualms about using it. "I thought we were meeting Carter," Jack said as the Stargate disengaged.

 

Sam said, "You are."

 

The teams spun around in the direction of the voice. Sam and three other Jaffa stood on the opposite side of the Stargate. Their staff weapons were leveled and charged. Jack cursed and reluctantly lowered his weapon. Janet, buried between SG-1 and SG-7, pushed her way clear and said, "Sam."

 

Sam relaxed her stance. Unlike everyone else, who wore large Hazmat helmets, Janet wore only a simple surgeon's mask over her nose and mouth. The doctor looked older, naturally, but better. Wiser. Her hair was longer than it had been last time they met. It touched the shoulders of her green camo uniform. Sam lowered her weapon and stepped forward, extending her hand. Janet took it, squeezed and looked down. "It's good to see you again."

 

"You, too," Sam said quietly. She looked past Janet and added, "Why did you bring the goon squad?"

 

"Security," Jack said. If he was offended by the remark, he didn't show it. "Where's this village of yours?"

 

Sam gestured with the staff and led the way off the pedestal. She kept Janet's hand in hers, not that Janet was complaining. "It's twelve klicks west of here."

 

"Twelve klicks?" Jack said in disbelief.

 

"The last time we had an outbreak, we moved. We were trying to get away from the hot zone. I guess we didn't move far enough." Sam glanced over as Janet readjusted the pack on her shoulders and held out a hand. "Do you want me to take that?"

 

"I've got it," Janet said. "Thank you." She scanned the field they were walking through as an excuse to really examine Sam. The past few years had been kind to the former First Prime. Her arms were tanned, tightly muscled. Her hair hung to her shoulders, the new bangs hanging down to hide her golden tattoo. There were some scars on her forearms that Janet thought might be new, but she couldn't tell. Sam's eyes seemed even bluer than Janet remembered; maybe it was a result of all her time spent working in the sun. Or maybe she was just happier here.

 

Sam turned and caught Janet staring at her. Janet didn't look away, and covered her staring with a question. "Do you have any idea what the disease might be?"

 

Sam shook her head. "For a while I thought it was just a particularly nasty flu. But now I'm starting to wonder."

 

"What's the death rate?"

 

"A hundred percent," Sam said. She turned and saw Janet's disbelieving look. "Every person who falls ill dies within a week. Without exception."

 

"Dear God," Janet said.

 

They fell into silence after that and followed a well-traveled path through the woods. Before long, they approached a waist-high wooden fence. Just beyond that, a row of tidy houses stretched off into the distance. They could hear the sounds of people talking and laughing within the confines of the fence. Jack frowned. "I thought you said twelve klicks."

 

"This isn't our village," Sam explained. "They were here when we arrived. They act as a buffer between us and any other Jaffa who come through the Gate. In exchange, we do odd jobs for them. We built this fence," she said, cupping a post with her hand as she passed, "we mend roofs and dig wells..."

 

"So basically, you just upgraded from one kind of slavery to another."

 

Sam refused to be baited. "It's not slavery. They help us, we help them. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement."

 

Jack shrugged. "Until one of Apophis' goons come through the Gate and torch the village for protecting you. Then where will you be?"

 

Sam didn't answer, sure that anything she said would just start a fight that she didn't need. Instead, she looked at Janet and gestured at the pack. "If you need a hand with that... it is over seven miles."

 

Janet nodded and readjusted the strap over her shoulder. She appreciated the offer, but she would be damned if she gave Jack O'Neill the satisfaction of seeing her hand off a burden.

 

~

 

An Asian Jaffa was waiting at the entrance to the village when they arrived. Sam's expression hardened when she saw him and she quickened her pace to reach him before the SG teams did. "Kal'et was to be waiting for us here."

 

The new guard hesitated and whispered, "Kal'et has fallen ill."

 

Sam's face went ashen. She glanced over her shoulder to see how close Janet was and lowered her voice. "How long has he been ill?"

 

"He has been hiding symptoms for nearly three days now."

 

"God damn him," Sam hissed.

 

Janet heard her curse and looked between Sam and the Jaffa. "What? What's wrong?"

 

"Another of my men has gotten sick," she said. To the guard, she asked, "Where is Kal'et now?"

 

"Home."

 

Sam turned to Janet. "Your first patient awaits, doctor."

 

Janet followed Sam through the dirt streets of the village, taking the time to admire the workmanship on the houses. "You've made quite a little home here," Janet said.

 

"Thank you," Sam said. "I'm just afraid it'll all be for nothing. If we have to move again..." She didn't finish the thought. They walked in silence through the village and stopped at a modest-sized cabin. Sam climbed the stone stairs and pushed the front door open.

 

Inside was dark, the windows covered with thick curtains to block out the sun. She clenched her jaw at the sight; one of the symptoms was sensitivity to light. She should have noticed when Kal'et began squinting, or if he had stuck to the shadows more than usual. "Kal'et?" she called. She stepped into the house and heard Janet's boots right behind her. The room was stuffy, as if it had been closed up for days. The air was stale and carried an unmistakable stench.

 

She searched the main room and then walked to the curtain that separated the bedroom from the rest of the space. "Kal'et, are you..." She pushed the curtain aside.

 

Kal'et was curled on his bed, his face frozen in a death mask of pain. Sam didn't recoil or flinch at the sight. Not anymore. She pushed the curtain aside and turned to Janet. "I don't suppose you brought a coroner with you."

 

"Yes," Janet said softly, as if reluctant to admit they'd considered this possibility.

 

Sam pushed past Janet and left the cabin. Jack stood on the dirt just beyond the front steps. Sam didn't even spare him a glance as she came down the steps, just turned her back on him to walk away. She was almost out of earshot when she heard him say, "One down."

 

Sam spun around and saw Daniel whisper, "Jack, cool it..."

 

"No, Daniel," Jack said, raising his voice. He looked at Sam and said, "These Jaffa have killed people in my command, Captain. People I knew, soldiers I watched go through the Gate. Killed because of these bastard friends of yours. I'm not going to shed a tear."

 

"Then I would sleep with one eye open while you're our guest, Jack."

 

She turned and stormed off.

 

~

 

Their commissary was an open-air pavilion, the roof supported by pillars that ran along the outside edge of the space. Janet stepped into the shade and pulled her cap off, folding the material between her hands as she approached Sam. The blonde was standing at a long prep table, running her knife through a slab of meat. She glanced up as Janet approached and then focused on her work. "Do you want something to eat?" Sam asked.

 

"No," Janet said.

 

Sam sighed and dropped the knife with a clatter. "I'm not even hungry."

 

"It helps if you call the meat 'Colonel' while you stab it."

 

Sam smiled weakly and looked up again. "You're not wearing your mask."

 

"No."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

Janet gestured at a nearby table and walked over with Sam. As they sat, Janet said, "When we examined Kal'et, we found a number of illnesses present. Any one of them might have caused his death."

 

"So how do you know you're safe?"

 

"Kal'et's symbiote was dead. We know from... past examinations of Jaffa... that the symbiote replaces a Jaffa's immune system. When the symbiote died, Kal'et quickly succumbed to a handful of illnesses that were present in the environment."

 

"But you're fine? The rest of the team...?"

 

"Our immune systems are strong. It's... terrifying... that Kal'et died so quickly, but we don't have anything to worry about." She hesitated. "And neither do you. You don't have a symbiote, so you shouldn't be vulnerable to this outbreak."

 

"Wonderful," Sam said. "My people are dying, but I'm immune."

 

Janet bowed her head and toyed with the edge of her jacket. "We're going to do what we can to bolster the immune systems of those who are still sick. But at this point, I think all we can do is make them comfortable in their last days."

 

Sam stood and walked to a nearby pillar, turning her back on the doctor. "If we leave?"

 

"You would have to leave behind those who are already sick. And you would have to be sure no one you took with you was a carrier."

 

"I had seventy free Jaffa," Sam whispered. "Seventy. They turned away from their gods for me, Janet. And this is what was waiting for them? This is what freedom held in store? I should have left them where they were. They would have been better off."

 

Janet stood and walked to the pillar next to Sam's. She leaned against it and looked at the blonde for a long moment. "Sam... I know this--"

 

"Don't try to comfort me," Sam interrupted. "Just... don't. There's nothing you could say. So just be here for me."

 

"I can do that," Janet said. She scanned the hillside that stretched out away from the gazebo. "I heard you requested me to come here."

 

Sam nodded. "I figured you were the only one who would be willing to come. But I wanted to be sure you were the one they sent."

 

"Good thing you did. I'm not with the SGC anymore."

 

Sam looked away from the scenery and frowned. "What?"

 

"I quit the military. And medicine."

 

Sam straightened and turned to face Janet.

 

"It's a long story," Janet explained. "Can we just drop it for now?"

 

"Look at the scenery?"

 

"Right."

 

Sam leaned against the post and looked out over the countryside. After a moment, she said, "Do you see that stretch there?" She pointed and Janet followed her finger. "With the purple and yellow flowers, the tree..."

 

"Yeah," Janet said. "It looks tranquil."

 

"When we first arrived on this planet, I would go there. When I was overwhelmed or when I needed solitude. I had so much on my shoulders... I'd lost Earth, I was adrift. So I'd go and sit under the tree until I could breathe again. I decided it might as well have a name, so I chose Fraiser's Field."

 

Janet blinked. "Wow. I'm honored."

 

Sam shrugged. "Thank you for coming. If it weren't for you, I probably would..."

 

"Let's not think about it," Janet said.

 

Sam nodded. "Still. Thank you for being here." She hugged herself and said, "How is your daughter? Cassandra?"

 

Janet gave a sad smile. "Cassandra isn't speaking to me. She left for college and she feels that it's best to put everything... the SGC, the bomb shelter, her planet, behind her. She calls every now and then. But it feels like a formality. Like she's forcing herself to do it and she doesn't want me to reply. So I don't."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

Janet nodded. "The only place I have to be in the evenings is an AA meeting, and that's only once a week. I watch stupid shows on TV just so the house isn't completely silent..." She took a deep breath and scratched between her eyebrows. "To be honest, there's nowhere else I would rather be right now."

 

They leaned against their pillars, looking out at Fraiser's Field and the surrounding hillside. Janet knew she eventually had to go back to the triage center they had set up. She knew that she and Sam would have to go over treatment plans and preventative measures to try and keep others from falling ill. But it could wait for a few minutes.

 

~

 

After Janet returned to the triage center, Sam set out to finish the field work she had started a few days before. She was halfway across the village when she spotted Daniel Jackson walking toward her. She stopped dead, but he had spotted her. She couldn't change course without him knowing it was because of him. So she continued on and, out of courtesy, stopped and said, "Dr. Jackson."

 

"Captain Carter," Daniel said.

 

"Don't call me that," she snapped. "I'm not her anymore."

 

He nodded. "Right. Sorry. I just... I didn't... We didn't know each other well enough for me to call you Sam, I thought."

 

"Just Carter will be fine."

 

"Right." He looked around. "Quite a place you've made for yourself here."

 

The wide-eyed, ambitious, naïve Air Force Captain smiled and looked at the archaeologist. The man who had cracked the code she spent two years trying to solve, standing in the dust of an alien temple. She remembered he had dust on his glasses, and his hair was hanging down in his eyes. She said, "I knew I'd like you."

 

"You mean I'm right?"

 

Sam looked away from the man he had grown into. As if sensing her thoughts, he sighed and said, "We, uh... we've come a long way from that pyramid on Abydos, huh?"

 

"We have." She stared at him until, this time, he looked away. "I have to get to work."

 

"Right." She walked past him and he called after her, "It's good to see you." She turned and stared at him. "Even though I know you don't believe that. Not... not from me. But it's good to see you're well. That you're doing well."

 

Sam looked at the village and then looked at Daniel. "I wish I could say the same about you." She walked away and left him standing alone in the middle of the street.

 

~

 

The rest of the day was spent taking care of the sick and dying. Janet worked the triage center while the rest of her medical team administered painkillers. More than once, Janet had to stop what she was doing to mediate a blow-up between a doctor and patient. No amount of goodwill could change the fact these were Earth forces tending to ill Jaffa. By the end of the day, she was sweaty and dirty and the front of her uniform was stained with things she'd rather not think about.

 

Sam had set up a section where the human team could set up their tents. She forbid any Jaffa from crossing the threshold and, a testament to how frightened the plague made them, they all agreed. Janet left the triage center and stopped at her tend just long enough to ditch her soiled jacket. She rubbed her bare arms and looked toward the center of camp. Jack, Daniel and the rest of the team were gathered around a fire, talking about something. Whatever it was, she didn't want a part of it. She turned and left the human compound.

 

Her hair was undone, tickling her neck when the wind blew. The thing she missed most about being at the SGC were her occasional jaunts off-world. Alien planets smelled different, her skin felt different when it rained. She turned her head to the sky and looked at the stars. She never thought she would be able to notice the differences, since she never paid much attention to Earth's sky, but the change was drastic.

 

She was still looking up when a quiet voice said, "What are you doing out?"

 

Janet turned to Sam, feeling like a kid who was found sneaking into the house. Sam wore a wheat-colored tunic and baggy trousers. Her hair was mussed and she was barefoot. "Did I wake you?" Janet asked.

 

"I was tossing and turning," Sam said. "I decided to take a walk. What are you doing out?"

 

"Same thing," Janet said.

 

"It's dangerous. Despite your reasons for being here, you are still a human in a Jaffa camp. Half the warriors here would kill you on principle." She reached out and said, "Come on."

 

Janet took Sam's hand and allowed herself to be led for only a few steps. She pulled her hand away and said, "I'm not a child."

 

"No. But you're vulnerable."

 

"I can take care of myself. Thank you for your concern." She turned and continued on the path she had been taking. She was angry with Sam for making assumptions about her. Furious at being treated like an imbecile who couldn't take a simple damn walk through--

 

Sam appeared in front of Janet like a wraith. Before Janet could even gasp in surprise, Sam swept her feet out from underneath her. Janet fell on her ass, and Sam shuffled around behind her. She wrapped an arm around Janet's neck, pulled Janet tight against her and pressed one calloused hand against Janet's smooth cheek. The other hand flattened on top of Janet's head, smashing her hair, and Sam lowered her mouth to Janet's ear. When she spoke, her breath washed across Janet's face. "You knew I was there. And I could have snapped your neck before you even thought about how to defend youself. I don't doubt that you can take care of yourself, Janet, I merely doubt your ability to take on a trained Jaffa warrior."

 

She released Janet and stood up. Janet remained where she had fallen, head bowed. Sam held out her hand and said, "It's not about how strong you are. It's about admitting you need help."

 

Janet looked up at Sam's hand. That was pretty much the idea behind AA, right? Wasn't that basically what Cassandra's psychiatrist said? She reached up and took Sam's hand. Sam pulled her up and said, "Come on. I don't want to risk you walking all the way back to the Earth camp."

 

Janet took her hand from Sam's again, refusing to be led, but fell into step behind her. They crossed the dirt street and Janet followed Sam up three stone steps into a small hut. Janet scanned the spartan quarters and said, "Your guest house?"

 

"My home," Sam said.

 

"Oh." Janet scanned the room. There were three candles on the desk, burning steadily and giving the room a soft orange glow. Janet let her gaze linger on the bed, the turned-back covers and the thin, flimsy pillow. She opened her mouth to speak, but found her lips claimed by Sam's. She moaned weakly and leaned into the kiss, keeping her eyes open until Sam pulled back.

 

Sam rested her palms on Janet's shoulders, the heels of her hands just above the swell of Janet's breasts. Sam exhaled and whispered, "I'm sorry. I've wanted to do that... since you left."

 

Janet touched Sam's cheek and drew her in for another kiss. Sam's hands slipped down and Janet arched her back into the caress. Her nipples were already hard with anticipation, her thighs quaking as they sensed the promise of a lover's touch. Sam tugged on Janet's bottom lip when they parted, then kissed her nose and eyelids. Janet trembled at the thought that someone so rock-hard could be so gentle. Sam embraced Janet and kissed her neck. "It's been so long."

 

"I know," Janet whispered. She inhaled Sam's scent; dirt and musk, the smells of hard work. She opened her mouth and gently nipped at the tanned flesh of Sam's shoulder. "For me, too," she whispered. "I haven't been with anyone for years."

 

"Five," Sam whispered.

 

"Seven," Janet admitted. She pulled back and said, "I have a daughter who cuts herself. I was accused of child abuse. I've... sex hasn't been a big part of my agenda." She forced a smile and said, "How about you? I'm sure there was something keeping you busy."

 

Sam smiled. She stepped back and released Janet. She reached for the hem of her own shirt and, with a motion too quick for Janet to argue with, pulled the tunic up and off. Her breasts were bare and sagged a bit from being without a bra for years. Janet was dumbstruck and, for a moment, remained frozen where she stood. She stared at the pink nipples, the full breasts and the creamy skin with such horrendous scars crisscrossing it.

 

Janet felt tears burning in her eyes and didn't know why, exactly. The excitement of what they were proposing? Pain at what had happened to Sam? She finally raised her hand and traced one of the scars that ran from the underside of Sam's arm across the top of her right breast. The cut had been deep. When it was fresh, it would have come close to cutting Sam's breast off entirely. "How...?"

 

"Sarcophagus," Sam said. Her head was hung low, her bangs hiding her eyes in shadow. Janet cupped Sam's breast and bent down. She kissed Sam's collarbone, ran her tongue along puckered scar tissue, and finally captured Sam's nipple with her lips. She felt Sam's hands in her hair and closed her eyes, using her tongue to draw the erect bud into her mouth. It had grown hard at her touch and she swept her tongue across it with slow, gentle strokes.

 

She released the nipple, brushed away the line of saliva that appeared, and switched to the other breast. She pictured Sam's past lovers, groping and squeezing this same flesh with no regard for her pleasure. She pictured Apophis holding tight and ran her tongue along the flushed skin. She was going to make an effort to be gentle, loving, tender. She ran her tongue between Sam's breasts. She tasted sweat and felt Sam's heartbeat against her tongue.

 

Janet straightened and nuzzled Sam's neck. Her hands found Sam's nipples and played with them as Janet moved her lips up and down Sam's throat. Sam arched under the touch, her entire body shaking. As Janet captured Sam's lips again, Sam whispered the word, "Love." It wasn't a declaration or a question, more of a confused revelation. She spoke it like someone learning a new language, someone finding a new word or suddenly becoming unsure of an old word's meaning.

 

Sam's tongue was in her mouth and Janet walked her towards the bed. Sam sat down and Janet immediately straddled her thighs to sit on her lap. She cupped Sam's face and kissed her hard. Sam untucked Janet's shirt and shoved her hands under the material. She groped Janet's breasts from an odd angle, her fingers tearing at the cotton brassiere Janet wore. They broke apart with a gasp and Sam wrenched Janet's shirt up.

 

Janet reached behind her back and unsnapped the bra. It trailed down her arms, but Sam was distracted by Janet's bare breasts, hard nipples, skin flushed with arousal. Janet stroked Sam's hair and said, "Gentle. Please, be gentle."

 

Sam looked into Janet's eyes and saw tears there. She brought one hand up and ran her thumb over Janet's cheek. Janet leaned into the touch and a tear slipped free. Sam lowered her head and Janet leaned back. Sam kissed Janet's chest. She laced her fingers in the small of Janet's back to support her and began to feast on Janet's breasts. Janet hooked her feet under Sam's thighs, wishing she'd taken the time to take off her boots.

 

Her nipples were painfully hard, wet from kisses, when Sam's hands moved to her ass and lifted her. Sam turned them both and dropped Janet to the mattress. She moved to the edge of the bed and put her hand on Janet's stomach. "My boots," Janet whispered. Sam looked up and met Janet's eyes. "Take off my boots before you... you take off my pants..."

 

Sam moved to the foot of the bed and rested Janet's feet in her lap. Janet propped herself up on her elbows as she watched Sam painstakingly untie the boots. She pulled them off and dropped them to the floor, then slowly unrolled the gray socks underneath. She looked up into Janet's eyes and lowered her lips. "No, they're disgusting," Janet said.

 

But Sam was undeterred. She took the big toe of Janet's right foot into her mouth and gently sucked. She raked her fingernails along the sole and Janet squirmed. Sam moved to the second toe in line, her strong hands continuing the massage of Janet's tired arches. She sagged back to the mattress and covered her breasts with both hands. "Oh. Oh, what are you doing to me?"

 

Sam didn't reply. When she finished the massage, Janet's foot felt numb. From the ankle down tingled and she wasn't sure she would be able to walk. She looked down and watched Sam kiss her through her trousers. Then again, why would anyone need to walk? She pushed down the zipper of her trousers while Sam undid the button. Sam yanked the material down and Janet found herself suddenly half-naked. She wore a pair of gray boxer briefs and suddenly felt like the least desirable woman in history. Then Sam kissed her thigh and she became a goddess.

 

Janet arched her back and Sam inched excruciatingly slowly towards Janet's underwear. Her lips drew a fire-hot path along Janet's thigh, her hands kneading the already-weak muscles of the opposite leg. Janet spread her legs as far apart as possible, planting her feet in the mattress and lifting her ass off the mattress. "Oh, God, you have to, you have to," she groaned.

 

Sam hooked her fingers in the waistband of Janet's underwear and she peeled it away. Janet brought her legs together only long enough for the shorts to be drawn down her legs and tossed away. She then opened herself, fully naked, fully exposed, fully vulnerable, to Samantha Carter. She closed her eyes and waited, heart pounding against her ribs fit to burst and she moved her hand to her mouth.

 

When Sam's tongue touched her lips, Janet wailed. She shoved her hand into her mouth and bit down on her fingers. The pain was blinding, but it did little to minimize the pleasure. Sam's tongue circled her labia in a lazy path, pausing to coax her clitoris free. She moaned around her hand, her body rigid and every synapse focused on paying attention to the activity down below.

 

Sam lifted her head and kissed Janet's pubic hair, rested her chin against the rough curls and exhaled against Janet's stomach. Janet groaned and said, "Please."

 

After a few more kisses, a bit more teasing, Sam lowered her head and sucked two fingers into her mouth. She brushed the knuckles against Janet's lips before she uncurled her fingers and pressed them forward. She brought her thumb up and touched Janet's clit. Janet's body went rigid and she jerked hard enough for the entire bed to move. Her upper body was red, her head and feet pressing into the mattress. She came with a cry, pressing her fist against her mouth as tears streamed down her face and she pressed down against Sam's invading hand.

 

Sam kissed Janet's belly, between her navel and pubic hair, and kept her hand cupped against Janet's mound.

 

Janet's body slowly deflated. Her arms and legs went limp, her muscles relaxed around Sam's fingers, her breasts began to rise and fall as she tried to catch her breath. Sam kissed her way up Janet's rag doll form, kissing here and there, nipping there, before finally reaching her lips again. They kissed and Sam removed her hand so she could press her hips against Janet's. She looked into Janet's eyes, deep and brown, soulful and loving, and thrust her body forward. "Oh," Janet gasped. Sam moved her hands to Janet's hips and held her in place. She pressed her knees into the mattress, bowed her head and rocked steadily against Janet. "Oh," Janet said. She sat up and pressed her face into the hollow of Sam's neck. "Fuck me," she breathed. "Fuck, fuck me."

 

Sam moved one hand to Janet's shoulder and kissed her forehead. Janet brought her feet up and hooked her ankles together in the small of Sam's back. Sam slid her lips to Janet's ear and said, "I'm going to come. You're so beautiful."

 

Janet's tears soaked Sam's shoulder, but she held on as she came again. Sam lowered Janet gently to the mattress and kissed her face. Eyes, nose, cheeks, chin and lips. She took Janet's hand and guided it to the waistband of her pants. They looked into each other's eyes and Janet whispered, "I want to taste you."

 

"Touch me first," Sam countered.

 

Janet rolled onto her side and let her hand sink into Sam's pants. Sam closed her eyes as Janet's slender fingers found her folds. Janet pulled Sam closer with her free hand and kissed her sweet skin. Sweat was pouring over her curves, catching the light from the candle and making her shine. She tasted wonderful, she felt perfect, her body stretched half-naked alongside Sam's. When one slick finger curled around Sam's clit, Sam's body jerked once, twice and then she groaned Janet's name.

 

They kissed and Sam pushed her trousers down. As Sam rolled on top of her, Janet looked down and snuck a peek at Sam's blonde tuft of pubic hair. When she looked back into Sam's eyes - a brilliant storm-gray in the weak light - she felt her heart twist in her chest. They kissed and Sam sank down onto Janet's body. She took Sam's weight and wrapped her arms and legs around her.

 

Janet's tongue rolled into Sam's mouth and she felt herself losing her grip on consciousness. No, she thought. No, I have to stay awake... "I have to taste you," she said, unaware she had started talking out loud.

 

"There's time," Sam whispered against Janet's ear.

 

But Janet was already gone.

 

~

 

Janet woke in the middle of the night with Sam sleeping on top of her. Sam's head was on Janet's shoulder, her face pressed tight to Janet's throat. Janet felt Sam's legs between her own and reached down, running her fingertips along the curve of her lover's naked hip. The moon glowed brightly through the small window, turning the room blue-white. Janet felt her heart beating in rhythm with the woman on top of her and her stomach did a flip.

 

"Sam," Janet whispered against the shell of Sam's ear.

 

The flesh under her palms had been cut and torn and sloppily mended. Her back felt like a relief map of America's highways. She traced several of these lines, only as many as she could stand without crying for Sam's pain. She fell asleep circling a small, puckered wound on Sam's right scapula.

 

~

 

A white-picket fence had been put up outside of her cabin. She walked to the street in her robe, tired eyes blinking as she scanned up and down the street. Identical houses stretched in either direction, and a small white truck was delivering the mail. She bent down and picked up the newspaper, turned and went back into the house. Coffee was brewing, there was no better smell in the world. Except for maybe bacon. She went to the kitchen, where her spouse was standing at the stove.

 

"Hi, love," Sam said as she took her customary seat at the head of the table.

 

"Over-easy, right?" Janet said. She was still wearing her robe, her hair in curlers.

 

"Sure," Sam said. She opened her paper and folded it to the local section. In bold letters, the headline declared APOPHIS STRIKES DOWN FREE JAFFA MOVEMENT. Sam gasped as Janet approached her side.

 

"I broke the yolk, so it'll have to be scrambled." Sam looked up and saw, instead of Janet, Apophis standing beside her. Instead of a plate of eggs, he held an orak knife. She barely had time to gasp before he drew the blade across her throat. Blood spilled onto her flowered robe.

 

"No!" Sam shrieked. She sat straight up, legs tangling in the blanket.

 

"Sam?" Janet's voice reached her through the panic. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and forced her to focus on the world around her. She settled wild eyes on Janet's face. For the first time in years, the horror had just been in her head. Apophis was light years away; Janet was really in her arms. She cupped Janet's face with both hands and leaned in. They kissed passionately.

 

"Nightmare," Sam said when they parted.

 

"I figured," Janet said. She brushed her knuckles across Sam's cheek and said, "I should go before..."

 

"Fraiser!"

 

They both turned to the door of the cabin.

 

"Fraiser!"

 

Jack O'Neill was coming closer.

 

Janet had already been up when Sam woke, so she was already dressed. Sam pulled on her tunic and baggy pants with what Janet knew had to be practiced speed. They left the hut together, Sam allowing Janet to lead the way so as not to imply she was being led. They met the Colonel a few dirt streets away from Sam's cabin. His face was red, his eyes flashing with barely-concealed fury. He looked from Sam to Janet, finally settling on the doctor.

 

"Where the hell have you been? Pierce said you never came back to the camp last night."

 

"I had to use the bathroom," Janet said. "I went for a walk in the moonlight and ended up on the wrong side of camp."

 

"I found her and let her sleep on the floor of my cabin," Sam said. "I didn't want to risk letting her walk across the compound."

 

Jack looked between the two women again, as if expecting the story to continue. They could both tell he didn't buy their story; the question was whether he was going to let them get away with it.

 

Finally, he took a step back and aimed a scarred finger at Janet's face. "Next time you decide to go wandering off in hostile territory, do not expect me to come looking for you."

 

"It's the next morning," Sam said.

 

Jack glared at her.

 

"You said you had someone standing guard," she explained. "Pierce? Well, he saw Janet leave last night. She never came back. How long do you think it would have taken one of my men to kill her? Or did Pierce just think the doctor here was having intestinal issues?"

 

Janet looked down at the ground, only slightly humiliated at being talked about like this. Like she was some child.

 

"She could have been killed any number of ways, any number of times, before you decided to come looking for her. I hope I never have you watching my back." Her eyes cut down to Jack's hands. "Oh. Wait."

 

Jack lurched forward and grabbed a handful of Sam's hair. Janet cried out and stepped between them before it could come to blows. Jack reluctantly released Sam's hair and let his hand drop to his side. "Watch your mouth, Captain Carter. You just watch your damn mouth."

 

"I will do my level best, sir," Sam said with mock sincerity.

 

Jack ignored the sarcasm and looked at Janet. "Are you coming?"

 

"I'm going straight to the triage site," Janet said.

 

"Fine." He stepped back and glared at Carter before turning to walk away.

 

Janet exhaled as the tension left the air around them. She spun on her heel and snapped at Sam, "What the hell was that? Things are bad enough without you baiting him."

 

"I can't help it," Sam growled. "He irritates me." She watched the Colonel's back until he disappeared around a corner. She put her hand on Janet's shoulder and exhaled. "I'll walk to you the triage center."

 

"I don't need an escort."

 

Sam turned her incredibly blue eyes on Janet again. "Do you need a refresher of last night's lesson?"

 

Janet had a flash; naked flesh, sweat dripping from a breast onto her face, tongues dueling and fingers tightening around hers as Sam stifled a cry with a pillow. Then she remembered the moment of terror earlier in the evening when Sam had shown Janet just how vulnerable she was. She shuddered and shook her head. "I'll be fine."

 

Sam stepped back and said, "Fine."

 

Janet pulled her shoulder out from under Sam's hand and turned away from her. When she looked back, the blonde had vanished. Janet straightened her black t-shirt, wished she had a pair of boots and continued on to the triage.

 

~

 

Blood stained the front of Janet's scrubs. In addition to monitoring the illness that had brought her and the medical team to the planet, many Jaffa were using the opportunity to get various aches, pains and wounds inspected. A few were still carrying bullets against cracked ribs, remnants of battles with SGC personnel. Janet removed these and bandaged the wounds, wondering at the irony of her situation.

 

At noon by her watch, the first patient died. He collapsed in a fit of seizures, clutching his stomach. An impromptu autopsy revealed the symbiote had been slowly dying for several days. The Jaffa's death was the result of an otherwise minor infection. He'd probably caught... Janet's eyes widened and she scanned the triage center. "Oh, God. We can't keep these people here."

 

One of the orderlies looked at her. "Ma'am?"

 

"Their immune systems are compromised. And we threw them all together in a tent with all the sickest members of their village. Shit."

 

"Where else are we going to put them, ma'am?"

 

Janet chewed the inside of her cheek and didn't answer him. Instead, she stormed forward and tossed back the tent flap. She stalked the dirt streets until she spotted Jack O'Neill at edge of town. He was leaning against a fence post, wobbling it back and forth in a casual manner. To the outside observer, it would look as if he was just fiddling with something nearby. To Janet, it was obvious he was trying to knock the fence over.

 

"Colonel," Janet called as she approached.

 

He looked up and abandoned the fence post. His companion turned and she saw it was Daniel Jackson. She stopped between the two men and said, "We can't let it go on like this. We have to do something."

 

"We are doing something."

 

"Not everything we could be doing," Janet said pointedly.

 

Jack looked at Daniel, who merely adjusted his glasses and said, "Actually, that's what Jack and I were just discussing."

 

Janet looked between the two men. "Well?"

 

When Jack spoke, it was with the overly-calm tones of someone trying to keep a tight rein on his anger. "If the Jaffa don't know about tretonin, then we are under no obligation to tell them."

 

"Their symbiotes are killing them!" Janet hissed. "Tretonin is a viable alternative to..."

 

"It is classified information, Dr. Fraiser."

 

"I am a doctor, and I have access to something which could help these people survive. Are you telling me to withhold that information from them?"

 

"Yes, Jack." All three of them turned to find Samantha Carter standing a few feet away. She was focused on Jack. "Are you telling her to withhold that information from us?"

 

"It's not that simple."

 

"Seems pretty fucking simple. What aren't you telling us?"

 

Janet spoke quietly. "There's a drug..."

 

"Stop speaking, Fraiser. One more word and you can be charged with treason."

 

Janet looked at Jack, then turned her gaze to Sam. "There is a drug called tretonin," she said, as if she hadn't been interrupted. "It can take the place of a Jaffa's symbiote. It's not a hundred percent effective... but it's close. And it's better than what you're dealing with here. If your people take it, there's a chance twenty-five percent may not make it. But it's better than a hundred percent mortality rate."

 

"Civilian or not, you're under arrest, Dr. Fraiser," Jack said. His voice was devoid of emotion. "The second we return to Earth, you'll be taken into custody."

 

"The second we return to Earth," Janet agreed. She turned to Sam. "In the meantime, I'll need some ingredients."

 

"Name them."

 

Janet hesitated. "The majority of it we'll have in our medical bags. It's the main ingredient that might be a little tricky..."

 

~

 

Janet put together a makeshift laboratory outside the triage center. She was sweating underneath her uniform. Prison. Prison! She had been thinking about the path her life was taking, knew something had to happen soon... but prison? For treason? She almost laughed, but was afraid it would sound too deranged, too close to hysteria. Her hands trembled as she arranged her Petri dishes.

 

The sun was going down outside. It had been eight hours since she had sent Sam to inquire at a village on another world about immature symbiotes. She doubted it would lead to anything. It was all an exercise in futility. Would Jack go through with the charges if this turned out to be just a fool's errand? She gripped the edge of the table and fought the urge to throw up. "Oh, God, what have I done?" she muttered.

 

"You gave my people a chance," Sam said.

 

Janet turned and saw Sam approaching from the dirt path. "God, you move quietly."

 

"It's a matter of survival," Sam said. She carried a large gold and brown canister with both hands and placed it gently on the table. "I didn't know if you needed them alive or not."

 

Janet frowned and reached up to open the canister. Sam stopped her, withdrew a zat and shot the canister once. Blue light swept across the metal and squeals came from within. Janet's eyes widened and she looked at Sam. "How many...?"

 

"Eleven."

 

Janet looked at the canister and felt sickness rising in her throat. She didn't even ask. No Jaffa camp would have that many symbiotes lying around. No Jaffa would willingly give them up. She swallowed hard and broke the seal. "Will it be enough?" Sam asked.

 

Janet withdrew one limp symbiote and lowered it gently to the sterile workspace. "I hope like hell it is." She picked up a scalpel and cut into the disgusting flesh beneath the symbiote head. The stench rose and enveloped them both as she spread the two halves. Janet wrinkled her nose, but Sam didn't even flinch.

 

"How did you learn to do this?"

 

"Not long before I resigned, we met some people who used it as their sole source of medicine. I was burnt out on the SGC... politics and shit like Colonel O'Neill accusing me of treason... I took a brief sabbatical. They taught me their process."

 

Sam put her hand on Janet's back, between the shoulders with her fingers resting against the back of Janet's neck. Janet closed her eyes at the intimacy of the touch, fought like hell not to lean back into Sam's palm. "I am glad you did. I am glad you're here." She leaned in and kissed Janet's temple. Janet turned and inhaled the smell of Sam's sweat, her flesh, already familiar after spending just one night in her embrace.

 

They parted simultaneously, easing apart and going back to the task at hand. "Will this take long?" Sam asked.

 

"A few hours."

 

"I'll ask for volunteers."

 

"Thank you, Samantha."

 

Sam let her hand linger a moment before she stepped back and walked away. Janet could still feel the weight of Sam's touch when she finished the first batch of tretonin.

 

~

 

The night eased across the countryside, slowly drawing out the shadows underneath the tent where Janet was administering tretonin to the volunteers Sam had rounded up. When she reached out to ignite the lantern, Sam looked up and scanned the fields outside. "You should probably call it a night."

 

Janet looked up, as if she hadn't noticed the darkness. "I need to administer the drug as quickly as possible. Once we know if it's a viable treatment, we can give it to the rest of your Jaffa."

 

"I don't want you walking across the compound at night."

 

"Maybe you need to stop worrying about me so much. No one has lifted a hand against me this entire time."

 

Sam put her hand on Janet's arm. Her grip was firm, but not enough to hurt. "I have to worry about you."

 

Janet reached out and lightly brushed Sam's hair with her palm. "It will take another hour to inject the rest of the Jaffa. We should give it at least twenty-four hours before we risk giving it to the general population. Can't you see that time is of the essence?"

 

"Fine," Sam relented. "In that case... in that case, maybe you should stay in my cabin again tonight."

 

Janet looked up.

 

"It is closer to the triage. In case anything requires your attention during the night."

 

Janet smiled and said, "You're cute."

 

Sam's eyes snapped up. "I am not."

 

Janet chuckled and said, "Trust me. And yes. It probably would be wise if I spent tonight in your cabin."

 

"Good," Sam said softly. She brushed Janet's fingers with her own, beneath the table so no one else saw it, and stepped back. "Find me when you are ready to call it a night."

 

Janet nodded and adjusted the bed of a patient so she could inject him easier. She glanced up just before depressing the plunger and saw Sam standing just outside the tent. She was staring at Janet, just watching her work. Janet opened her mouth to say something but before she could, Sam was gone.

 

~

 

They pressed against the darkest corner of Sam's single-room home, panting in the shadows. Janet was already naked, one of Sam's hands around her waist while the other was pressed between her thighs. Janet bowed her head and kissed Sam's neck. "I love you," she whispered.

 

"Shh," Sam said.

 

"I don't want you to say it back," Janet assured her. "Not just because I said it. I just want you to know. I love you."

 

Sam pulled back, but didn't stop her fingers. There were tears in Janet's eyes, illuminated by the moonlight. Janet said, "I should have stayed. The last time. They thought I was dead anyway. I should have."

 

Sam moved her hand from Janet's waist to her throat. She touched the throb of Janet's pulse, felt her swallow. "If you had stayed with me, you never would have learned of tretonin. You would not have the ability to save us now. Perhaps it was fate that we were separated for so long."

 

"What about now?" Janet whispered. "Once I've taught your people to make tretonin for themselves, I'm going back to Earth." Most likely straight to a jail cell, she didn't bother to add. "I'll never see you again."

 

"Let's not think about that," Sam whispered. She kissed Janet's lips and then kissed along Janet's jaw to nibble on her ear. "I stopped saying love a long time ago," Sam whispered. Her voice was barely a breath, the words merely hinted at rather than spoken. "But I never thought... I could feel the way you make me feel. Not after the hell I went through." She adjusted the lay of her hand and Janet whimpered with pleasure. "You're my redemption."

 

Janet pulled Sam's face to hers and kissed her hard. "Remember... last night? I asked you to be gentle."

 

"Yes," Sam said.

 

Janet's fingers curled into claws and she growled, "I don't need that tonight."

 

Sam's eyes flashed.

 

"Take me."

 

Sam pulled her hand from between Janet's legs and wrapped both arms around Janet's waist. With a low growl, she lifted Janet off the floor and spun her around to the bed. Janet cried out as she was dropped roughly to the mattress and groaned as Sam descended upon her.

 

~

 

Janet's hair was in her eyes. Her shoulder ached and, when she looked, she saw a deep pink mark in the shape of Sam's mouth. Long scratches stung her back like bee stings. She shuddered and rolled onto her back. Sam readjusted herself unconsciously and pressed her body against Janet's side. Janet put her arms around Sam and looked around the room. The desk had been knocked over, the bed was a few inches away from the wall. Remnants of their 'lovemaking.'

 

She only partially remembered the events of the night before. Wild, primitive fucking. Janet had wanted to be marked, had wanted to bear Sam Carter's scars. She wanted to see if she could bear the brunt of Sam's attack and she had. They hadn't bothered to stifle their cries when they climaxed. Sam's cries had shaken the cabin, and Janet's had drawn confused voices to the street outside.

 

Everyone in the camp knew something had occurred in Samantha Carter's cabin during the night. Most knew it for what it was. Others were sure their leader had murdered the Tau'ri doctor. Several times.

 

When morning finally came and Sam woke, she found Janet staring at her. She reached up and cupped Janet's face. "How long have you been awake?"

 

"Not long."

 

"Did I hurt you last night?"

 

Janet grinned. "Nothing that won't heal." She leaned in and kissed Sam's eyelids, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth. Her hands slid across Sam's stomach and down to her hip. "I don't want to leave."

 

"The bed or this world?"

 

"Either."

 

Sam nuzzled Janet's face, still amazed at how tender she could be after everything she'd been through. The night before had been a gift; Janet allowing her to let everything go. Now, she knew she would be able to show Janet the tenderness she deserved. Go slowly, coax an orgasm rather than force it. She kissed Janet's neck and whispered, "I love you." The force behind the words nearly made her hurt. It had been so long since she'd said them, even longer since she had meant them.

 

"If I go back to Earth, I'll never be allowed near the Stargate again."

 

"If?" Sam asked.

 

Janet ignored her. "My daughter doesn't want anything to do with me. Or with the entire Stargate program, for that matter. And it's probably for the best. She's moving on with her life. She's getting better. And me? I have AA and a prison cell waiting for me. But here..." She lightly touched Sam's shoulder.

 

"Think about what you're saying," Sam whispered. "It's not something to be done lightly."

 

"My daughter doesn't want me. The SGC doesn't want me." Twin tears rolled down Janet's cheeks. "I could go back through the Stargate to the world where I'm supposed to belong... or I could stay here, on this world, where I feel like I truly belong. The only question is whether... anyone here... wants me."

 

Sam kissed Janet's tears and lightly traced her tongue along the tracks they had left behind. She kissed Janet's closed eyes and drew her close. "Stay. Oh, God, stay."

 

Janet wept quietly against Sam's shoulder. When her tears dried, they got out of bed, dressed and walked together to the triage. They paid no attention to the stares they received, didn't acknowledge the muttered comments. When they reached the triage, Janet turned and lifted herself on her toes. She kissed Sam good-bye, full on the lips, in full view of everyone in the tent. She dropped back to the ground, ran a thumb along her bottom lip and turned to the orderlies that were gathered around slack-jawed.

 

"Well?" Janet asked. "What is the overnight report?"

 

~

 

Sam paused after the second grave. A shroud-wrapped body still waited to be placed in the ground, but she needed a break. She turned and held out her hand. Janet placed the leather pouch in Sam's hands. As Sam drank greedily, Janet eyed the cemetery. "Three more deaths," she whispered.

 

"Seven recoveries," Sam said. She capped the pouch and handed it back to Janet. Her lips were wet from her drink and she swept a sleeve across it. "Out of ten ill Jaffa, you saved seven."

 

Janet scoffed. "Great. A C-plus."

 

"They are seven times the men who would have been saved without you."

 

"I know," Janet said. She touched the small of Sam's back and shook her head. "I still can't help feeling like I could have done more. People are still dying."

 

"Yesterday, nineteen Jaffa were on death's door. Today, eleven are recovering. Three more are showing signs of improvement. You said when we began that this drug was not foolproof, but it is doing far better than I could have imagined."

 

"It's the perfectionist in me, I guess," Janet said. She started to say something else when she saw Sam's eyes suddenly harden, focused on a spot over Janet's shoulder. Janet turned and saw Jack and Daniel approaching from the dirt road.

 

"Time to leave," Jack said.

 

Janet frowned and shared a look with Sam. "Sir, we can't leave yet. I've barely even scratched the surface on teaching the Jaffa to make their own tretonin."

 

"You've done enough damage, Doctor," Jack said. "Don't compound it by--"

 

"Damage?" Janet interrupted. "We came here to save these people. I succeeded, damn you!"

 

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You want applause for committing treason?"

 

"Bastard," Janet hissed. "When they run out of tretonin, they'll all die anyway."

 

"Not my problem."

 

"The free Jaffa should be our allies!" Janet said. "And if not for your damn stubborn point of view, they would be!" She turned her anger on Daniel. "And you. What happened to you? When you first started at the SGC, you championed causes. You fought for what was right. Now... you're this asshole's toady."

 

"That's enough, Doctor Fraiser," Jack snapped.

 

Daniel ignored Jack and replied, "I guess if you get knocked down enough... you tend to stay there."

 

Janet shook her head. "I don't believe that's true. Not anymore. I won't give up on these Jaffa."

 

"You're going to have to. We're going. Now."

 

"Then go," Janet said. Her heart was pounding. "I'm staying here."

 

Sam drew a breath, shocked that Janet had actually said the words, but Jack and Daniel just stared at the doctor.

 

"Go!" Janet said, flipping an arm in the direction of the Stargate. "Keep your treason charge. Keep your jail cell. I'm staying here where I'm needed. Where I'm wanted."

 

"You'll never be allowed back," Daniel said. "They'll lock out your IDC, they'll..."

 

"Why would I go back?" Janet asked quietly. "Give me one reason and I'll reconsider."

 

Daniel lowered his eyes to the ground.

 

Janet turned away from Jack and picked up the shovel. She walked to the one remaining Jaffa corpse and began digging his grave. Sam stared at Jack for a long moment before she turned as well. She moved to Janet's side and picked up the other shovel.

 

After tossing a few shovelfuls of dirt over her shoulder, Janet turned and looked toward the road. Both men had vanished. Janet exhaled and laid her hands on the handle of the shovel. She bent down and rested her head on them. "They're gone. I'm... I'm home."

 

Sam put a hand in the middle of Janet's back and said, "Let's finish digging this hole so I can give you a proper welcoming."

 

Janet smiled and buried the tip of the shovel in the dirt.

 

~

 

It was easier to lie. Jack laid out their story on the way to the Gate: Janet had succumbed to the virus. She had died not long after their arrival on the planet and, when their medicine didn't seem to help, Jack had pulled up stakes. The world not cleared to know classified information would just be told that the doctor had died of a virus. As far as the Air Force and everyone on- and off-base was concerned, Janet Fraiser was dead.

 

Jack walked up to the DHD and began to dial. Daniel stepped up next to him and spoke in a low voice. "Do you think you're fooling anyone? This cover story. You're protecting Janet with it."

 

"I'm protecting myself," Jack countered. "Leaving her behind like this? Giving the Jaffa sensitive information?" He shook his head. "I won't have that on my record."

 

Jack activated the Gate and adjusted his P-90 as he rounded the dialer. Daniel took a moment to look back through the trees, looking for signs of the Jaffa encampment. He had wondered countless times what the SGC and SG-1 might have been like if Sam hadn't been left behind in that Goa'uld prison. Would it have been any better? Judging from the way Sam and Jack seemed to butt heads, there was every chance it could have just ended up being worse.

 

He decided there was no point in debating it, or in fighting Jack's 'official version' of this mission. He had learned a long time ago that fighting wasn't worth it. He adjusted his glasses and turned his back on the alien world.

 

~

 

After two months, when no one had questioned the official version of events, Janet was officially declared dead. Janet Fraiser's family, from whom she had been estranged for years, were notified and she was given a modest funeral at home. Jack was given the unenviable task of going through Janet's home to make sure nothing sensitive had made it out of the base.

 

He let himself into the back door, the same door where he had confronted Janet to go along on the mission to Carter's world. The house felt abandoned, forgotten. He glanced down and saw the pharmacy bag she'd been carrying that night. He picked it up and opened it, pouring the brown-gold bottle into his hand. That's right, he remembered as he read the prescription label. She said she was having trouble sleeping. He pocketed the bottle. "Doubt you'll need these where you are..."

 

He went through the house, scouring her den and living room for remnants from the SGC. Not even a file folder.

 

A dark, narrow hallway led to the back of the house. He flipped on the light switch as he passed and, after a brief hesitation, opened the bedroom door.

 

The blue nightgown lying on the foot of the bed had black lace along the hem. The shoulder straps were thin, the bodice cut low. He looked down at it, confused, and gently brushed his ruined fingers across the silk. He moved past the nightgown and put it out of his mind. Who was he to question someone's sleeping attire? Maybe crawling into bed at the end of the day was the only time she could feel good about herself.

 

He scanned the vanity, then popped open the medicine cabinet. Lots of alien drugs came through the infirmary. Maybe she had grabbed a couple bottles for herself.

 

He was about to shut the cabinet door on the shelves of generic, Earth-based medicines, when something caught his eye. It took him a moment to realize what had drawn his attention. Three small brown-gold bottles on the bottom shelf, tucked into the corner and separate from the other medicines.

 

All the labels read the same: "Take Two Orally before Bed." He withdrew the bottle from his pocket; it was identical.

 

All three bottles were completely full.

 

Jack went back into the bedroom and looked at the nightgown again.

 

She hadn't been planning to go to sleep in that soft, blue silk, he realized. Or rather, she had never planned to wake up in the morning.

 

He looked at the pill bottles in his hand and knew their purpose. Why else would someone keep filling prescriptions, month after month, unless... He turned and looked at the nightgown laid out on the bed and suddenly realized she had planned on dressing for the occasion. She wanted to look nice for...

 

Jack pocketed the three pill bottles, balled up the nightgown and tossed it into the hamper. It was the scantest of evidence, really, but... a man who had once sat on the edge of a bed with a loaded pistol knew how humiliating it could be to have your plans discovered. He and Janet had never been friends. Hell, they could barely be civil to one another. But she was a good person. She deserved better than to have people find out what she had been planning.

 

He sniffed, looked around the room and headed out to explore the rest of the house.

 

~

 

The triage tent was long gone, replaced by a long, one-room building. Beds had been constructed, covered by mattresses filled with straw. Old clothes had been torn apart and re-sewn to make blankets. Janet offered her medical services to the rebel Jaffa's host village, so relations between the two groups were at an all-time high.

 

For the most part, Janet was accepted as a part of the village. She was either 'the doctor' or 'the betrothed,' a sign that her relationship with Sam wasn't overly scandalous. Janet reveled in being someone's spouse again, even unofficially. Sam often joked that should they happen across a religious leader, they might as well make it official.

 

In the meantime, Sam did what she could to help out. It was a source of pride that she was able to perform every job in the village, but anything medical was beyond her. So Janet trained her, long hours in the hospital followed by vocabulary lessons at home. Those nights at the desk, Janet pressed tight against her and explaining some obscure medical abbreviation, Sam felt like she was finally home for the first time since the attack in the Chulak prison.

 

Janet taught Sam how to administer the injections for the youngest members of her village. Sam felt it was important, as the leader of the village and the movement, that she be the one who performed this rite until they were able to do it themselves. The children had only just gotten used to their symbiotes and were now forced to make a new adjustment. She smiled an apology to a 14-year-old girl and brushed the injection site with alcohol. The girl stood and Sam moved to the next station. "Hello," she said to the girl. "You know me?"

 

"You're the shol'va," the girl said. In this camp, that word was considered a badge of honor, and the girl smiled when she said it.

 

"That's right," Sam said. "I'm the shol'va. But you can call me Sam. This is only going to hurt a little bit, I promise."

 

She prepared the injection, going slowly to show the girl each individual step, and took the girl's arm just as a Jaffa man stormed into the hospital tent. "The doctor!"

 

Sam turned in her seat and watched as a second man lunged into the room. He was cradling his arm to his chest, face contorted in a grimace of pain. She was out of her chair and crossing the room before the men shouted for Janet again. Sam said, "What happened?"

 

"He was repairing the roof of his hut when he fell. He has injured his arm." He stared at Sam. "Bring the doctor now."

 

"Take a seat and relax," Sam ordered. She kept her eyes locked on his until he looked away, once again maintaining her superiority. To the injured man, she said, "I'll find the doctor." She left the hospital and looked up and down the dirt path. She walked towards the commissary and grabbed a woman who was passing by. "Have you seen the doctor?"

 

"Not since this morning."

 

Sam walked on, looking down alleys and pausing to look into open, shadowed doorways. Each person she asked said they hadn't seen Janet all day.

 

A chill of unease worked its way down Sam's spine as she traversed the village. No one had any sign, mention or report of Janet. Despite the acceptance most villagers showed Janet, she was still a human. She still represented the SGC in the eyes of some Jaffa. Sam was about to give in to her panic when she crossed through the gazebo and glanced toward one of the wide-open walls. She smiled, embarrassed by her panic. Where else would she be?

 

She walked to one of the pillars and cupped a hand over her eyes.

 

Janet was sitting underneath the tree in Fraiser's Field, a notebook in her lap, writing slowly. Sam had read the notebook; it was the journal Janet had started the day she decided to stay in the village. Sam had once asked what Janet meant by calling her journal 'Afterlife,' but Janet had demurred on explaining.

 

Sam watched her for a moment before Janet felt eyes on her. She stopped writing and looked up, searching for her observer.

 

When she spotted Sam, the smile that spread across her face was un-missable, even from a distance. Six months in the village had done wonders for her; her hair had grown out, the golden highlights that had been hidden for so long coming to vibrant life after hours in the sun. Her skin was tanned, her muscles taut and strong after years of, if not neglect, then lack of use. She started to stand, but Sam waved her down. The injured Jaffa could wait.

 

After taking a few more seconds to admire her lover, Sam stepped out of the shadow of the gazebo and started across the field. Despite Sam's motions to stay where she was, Janet gathered her journal and drawing pens and stood up. She swept off the seat of her pants and started towards Sam.

 

Fine, Sam thought. They would meet halfway. It was how they did everything else in the relationship. She smiled and tilted her face to the sun. It glinted off her golden tattoo, hardly even thought of anymore, and warmed her face. She looked down and held her arms out to Janet.

 

The brunette wrapped her arms around Sam's waist and kissed her throat.

 

Sam whispered, "My love," into Janet's hair and held her tightly.

 

 

end