All Right ---- Interlude 2

Disclaimer in pt. 1


I sit here on one of the many sand dunes on yet another planet that the Tok’ra have moved to flee the Goa’uld. This planet reminds me of the one where we first met Samantha and as I think of her, my heart pains. The heartache has not lessened since Lantash and I had been thrust into this world six months ago as we think about our lost beloved, for she is indeed lost to us. The hope we once had about her possibly living on earth was crushed when we received the promised lists of employees working for the various divisions of the SGC from O’Neill and Jackson. None of women bore any resemblance to our Samantha. I sigh desolately as I replay that particular moment.


<It is entirely possible that Samantha does live on earth but is unaware of the Stargate program, or she has not enlisted yet.> Lantash proposed in an attempt to soothe me.


(Even if that is so, it is highly unlikely that we will meet her. What good is it being in a world where we cannot even be with our love?) I despair. (Perhaps it would have better had we not accepted that creature’s proposal.)


<Martouf! I will not hear such things from you. We must continue to hope that we will find Samantha.> Lantash declared. <It has only been six months.>


I sigh again and rake a hand through my short hair as I stared out into the desert. (Six months is already too long. How much longer must we wait?)


Lantash cannot offer any solution and joins me in silent contemplation about our new life.


Many things have changed, while some have not. Friends Lantash and I had lost in our past life are alive and some who had been alive are now dead. One thing that has definitely changed is the fact that there are a lot more Tok’ra than before due to the willing hosts that the Tau’ri provide; perhaps in time, the Goa’uld will be overthrown as a Jaffa rebellion is apparently happening; the system lords were definitely losing power. Another thing that Lantash and I notice is that everyone seems to be a whole lot more…friendly and I do not know whether this is a good thing or not.


A gentle breeze ruffles my hair and I shift a bit, thinking for the thousandth time that I preferred my old uniform to the one that I am wearing now; it was so much more comfortable. Lantash agrees with me, saying that this uniform makes the Tok’ra look more militaristic and hard.


Jacob is still the same old Jacob I remember, much to my relief, except for one thing, which of course is Samantha. It shakes me every time he announces that he is going for a visit to the Tau’ri and I have to stop myself from eagerly volunteering to go with him because he is not going to see Samantha, he is going to visit his son. There is no Samantha, it hurts me to acknowledge that while I am grateful she is alive, she is alive somewhere out there, and there is a distinct possibility that I will never see her.


Such thoughts are so depressing and saddening and I shake my head to clear my head. It does not help, as I continue to see my beloved’s face in my mind. I cannot help but replay our time together and she haunts me daily, especially in my dreams. Sometimes they are so vivid, so real that I do not wish to ever wake up, much to Lantash’s distress. He has voiced numerous times that I cannot function like this, cannot live like this and I agree, but still I cannot stop. Lately, I have started to isolate myself from the others.


It is frustrating sometimes as no one knows about Samantha except Lantash and I and I am aware of how concerned Jacob and my other Tok’ra friends are about my distant and despondent behavior. I, of course, can never tell them, can never tell anyone and this causes me much pain. All too often, I find myself drifting off, comparing my new life to my old one.


The sun is setting, darkening the sky a bit and I know that I should return soon. The High Council is convening soon to decide what do to about Apophis’ growing forces. He is a much bigger threat here than he ever was in the past and we are divided on what to do to stem his growth. I must be there as I am actually a part of the Tok’ra High Council in this life, thus the grey sash that I am required to wear; Jacob/Selmac is also on the High Council. I have no wish to go, I am comfortable up here in the growing darkness by myself, staring into nothing, thinking about my Samantha, where she could possibly be at this very moment, what she was doing, is she all right, and of course, the my worst nightmare, is she bonded with someone?


Lantash and I have debated and thought about this for awhile, we recall the creature stating that it would bring Samantha back, but not back to us. What if she is happy and sharing her life with someone else? I would like to have said that as long as she is alive, well, and happy, then I am happy as well, but Lantash would call me a liar and so would I. I would be torn apart and shattered.


But I prefer not to think about that now as the temperature begins to cool down. No, I prefer to lose myself in one of my favorite dreams of Samantha. I am with my beloved, holding her tightly, smiling and watching her laugh in delight, her eyes lighting up in happiness. She turns to lift her face up to mine and I kiss her, trying to convey how much I love her in the minutes that our lips touch. She responds with so much passion that I am sorely tempted to lower her on the floor and make love to her then and there until both of us are too exhausted to move. But of course, I do not, instead clutching her even closer as I deepen the kiss when we are interrupted by a quick, but insistent tugging on our clothes. My love and I break apart from our passionate loving embrace to glance down into a pair of smiling blue-grey eyes staring back up at us. I let go of Samantha so she can bend down and pick up our son…


I snap out of my daydream at Lantash’s prodding and stern reminder that we are due at the meeting with the High Council. I sigh and stand up slowly, inhaling the cool evening air. As I make my way down the sand dune to the rings, I pause and look up into the starry sky, thinking in despair and anguish that to live in this world knowing I may never see Samantha again is just as bad as when I was holding her limp, lifeless body in my arms and knowing for certainty that I would never see her again.


I step onto a patch of sand and as the transporter rings rise up to take me below the surface, I send out one last plea…


(Samantha, where are you, love?)