I Want - Chapter 3

Disclaimer in pt. 1

Rating: R - violence

 

Sam huddled as close as she could to the fire without risk of being burned by flying sparks. She had searched for her clothes, but couldn’t find them and she prayed that Martouf hadn’t done something stupid with them, like burn them. Her arms were sore and she couldn’t feel her hands. Sam looked for something sharp to cut the ropes, but could see nothing. She resigned herself to sitting by the fire and thinking about what happened.

 

As she thought, her mind went back to the last few days. She had taken some time off to visit her dad, Martouf, and the other Tok’ra for a while and she had arrived only to find that there was nobody waiting at the Stargate to escort her to the Tok’ra base and figured that maybe she was early and settled down on the steps of the gate to see if anyone would show up. When no one did, Sam was about to head to the DHD to dial Earth when she heard the distant sounds of transporter rings and the sound of running footsteps coming toward her. Sam had turned with a smile and a witty retort about Tok’ra lateness when she was met by another male Tok’ra ramming right into her.

 

Sam was momentarily overwhelmed, but she got over it as the Tok’ra who tackled her raised his arm to hit her in the face. Sam’s military training kicked in and she raised an arm to block his attack while ramming her fist into the Tok’ra’s stomach hard. She pushed the Tok’ra off and rolled to the side and onto her feet. She watched as the Tok’ra got to his feet, swaying slightly and as he looked at her, she gasped suddenly. There was something clearly wrong with the man. His eyes were dilated, he was breathing heavily, and there was drool coming down the sides of his mouth. What’s worse was that his uniform was splattered with blood and Sam just knew that it was human blood.

 

An angry yell caused Sam’s eyes to widen as the Tok’ra rushed at her again. Sam readied herself while mentally panicking inside. Could she kill a Tok’ra, an ally, a friend, if it became necessary?

With no time to debate the answer, she waited until the Tok’ra was right in front of her, and then dropped down on the balls of her feet, spun around, her leg catching the backs of the Tok’ra knees and causing him to fall down. Sam wasted no time and scrambled to grab her pack that had fallen when she was ambushed and quickly yanked out the zat gun she had packed.

 

She was about to turn around when she felt the Tok’ra’s arms clamp around hers, holding her captive. She heard the Tok’ra snarl as she reacted by smashing the back of her head against the Tok’ra’s face. He dropped her and she spun around to land a right hook to the Tok’ra’s jaw. She raised her left hand, zat gun firmly in her grip, and fired it once at the fallen Tok’ra. It stunned him and Sam watched him warily in case she needed to fire again.

 

Luckily, for her, other Tok’ra had finally arrived and Sam watched, still breathing hard, as two Tok’ra pulled the man’s hands behind his back and placed what looked like large metal cuffs on the stunned Tok’ra.

 

“Sam!” Sam turned to see the worried look on her father’s face and she instantly lowered her weapon, walking up to her father.

 

“Dad!” Sam clutched her father’s arm as they watched the others lead to the injured Tok’ra away. “What’s going on?”

 

Jacob shook his head and cupped his daughter’s face with one hand, looking at her with concern. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you soon, but first, are you ok? Did Tirl hurt you?” His eyes assessed her and widened at the sight of blood on her clothes.

 

Sam shook her head reassuringly. “No, I’m okay, a little surprised, but fine.”

 

Jacob nodded. “Then let’s get your stuff and we’ll head down.” He watched as Sam went over to take her pack and then placed an arm around her back, leading her silently to the transporter rings, followed by some other Tok’ra, who Sam assumed were guards.

 

As they got to the rings, Jacob said apologetically, “I’m sorry I didn’t come get you, Sam, but as you obviously saw, we had a little situation on our hands.”

 

“No sweat, dad, I understand.” Sam, her father, and the Tok’ra guards went their separate ways when they reached the tunnels. Jacob leading her to what she assumed was going to be her quarters and the Tok’ra guards remaining at the rings, standing guard. As they walked along, Sam couldn’t help but exclaim, “Dad! What happened here?”

 

Sam’s eyes roamed the tunnels and she saw some Tok’ra were lying propped up against the walls, wounded and bloodied, while other Tok’ra were bending over them, using healing devices. Objects were lying strewn on the floor, mostly wrecked and twisted, and pieces of the tunnel itself were broken off. It looked to Sam as if a raging bull had charged its way through, leaving chaos behind. Far off, Sam could hear cries of anger and pain and she shuddered, feeling alarmed; things like this never happened among the Tok’ra.

 

Jacob led Sam past the chaos and down another tunnel, this one was calmer and there were no bleeding Tok’ra or broken objects lying about. He walked further along and then stopped in front of a room, which he then went into. It was barren except for the necessities.

 

“Here we go; this is where you’ll be staying. I’m right across the hall from you, which is good and even better-“

 

“Dad,” Sam interrupted her father as she clutched her pack in her hand. She turned to face him with a doubtful and worried look. “Are you sure I shouldn’t just, I don’t know, go or something? ‘Cause it looks as if you’ve got your hands full here and I don’t want to impose on the Tok’ra. I mean-“

 

“I can assure you, Samantha, you are not imposing on the Tok’ra. It will be good to have your presence amongst us.” Martouf’s baritone voice assured Sam and she looked behind her to see Martouf smiling, albeit tiredly, at her. His eyes twinkled at the sight of her and Sam felt her insides turn to mush.

 

“As I was saying, I’m right across from you and Martouf is right in the next room. And no, Sam, you’re not going home, you’re staying here where we can catch up and spend some quality father-daughter time together.” Jacob replied mockingly.

 

Sam smiled ruefully at her dad. She walked over to the bed to place her pack down and turned to face Martouf. Before she could greet him, however, he was instantly at her side, holding her arm and looking down at the blood on her clothes in alarm.

 

“Samantha! Where are you hurt? How bad is it? Do you wish me to get a healer? How come you did not seek help for Samantha, Jacob?” The last question was directed with some anger at Jacob as Martouf attempted to lie Sam down on her bed.

 

Martouf’s anger was replaced by confusion as he witnessed Jacob and Samantha burst out laughing. His brow creased and he asked, “Samantha? I do not understand why you are laughing.”

 

“Oh, Martouf,” Sam tried to stop laughing. “It’s okay, relax. The blood’s not mine. I’m fine.”

 

Martouf ducked his head in embarrassment and took his arm off Sam’s as Jacob and Sam continued to chuckle. His embarrassment was brief as Lantash took control.

 

“I am glad that Samantha is not injured, however, if it is not your blood, then whose is it?”

 

Lantash’s question quickly sobered up Jacob and Sam and Jacob answered, “I suppose you heard that Tirl escaped?”

 

Lantash nodded tightly. “Yes, I did. I could not assist in his recapture; I had my hands full with handling Bronwyn.”

 

Jacob rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Tirl evaded the guards and managed to hurt other Tok’ra before making it to the surface. He would’ve escaped if he hadn’t run into Sam here. They took him to a confinement cell.”

 

Lantash turned to a confused Sam, who had no idea what they were talking about. “And this is where you got the blood from? Tirl?”

 

Sam nodded and Lantash’s jaw clenched visibly as she explained. “I was about to head back to earth when he attacked me from behind. We got into a fight and I managed to stun him with a zat gun. What’s going on here, Lantash, dad?” Sam shot inquiring looks at both men.

 

“Why don’t you explain, Martouf? I want to take a look at Tirl.” Jacob suggested, going over to give his daughter a hug, being mindful of the blood on her shirt, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “But perhaps you’d better change first…alone, of course.” Jacob looked over at Martouf meaningfully, jerking his head toward the door.

 

Lantash smiled mischievously at Sam, as he understood Jacob’s words. He winked at Sam. “Of course, I will be back soon to give you some privacy.” Despite the blood, Lantash let her eyes wander over Sam’s body in a suggestive manner before hearing Jacob’s throat being cleared and with another smile; Martouf followed Jacob out of her room.

 

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