Title: Traitor?

Summary: While on a mission, Sam is taken captive by a Goa'uld System Lord. She's found a year later and "rescued" by her teammates. Trouble is, no one asked her if she wanted rescuing. Sam/OC

Spoilers: Singularity, Fire and Water, In the Line of Duty, Maternal Instinct, Summit, Last Stand, Meridian, and Fallen.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nada, zip, zilch. Ah, except for Zeus/Jaesin, Raevyn, Shoshannah, Ariana, and all the other various characters we all know never appeared in the television show.

Chapter 1

"Trees," Sam heard Jack mutter.

"Well, what do you expect?" asked Daniel. "It's been four years and we don't usually encounter anything but."

Sam smirked. Throughout SG-1's years as a team, Jack and Daniel's bantering had become a familiar constant. She would have been worried if they had gone through a mission without it. She was debating about joining or not; they might stop or brush off any comment she might make if she did.

Suddenly, she shivered involuntarily. Despite the fact the gate was surrounded by numerous evergreen trees (a forest, go figure), the chilly breeze still managed to cut through. The trees were a dark, rich, pine green and their tops swayed violently in the upper breeze. Luckily, the wind wasn't strong enough to push past the thick, sturdy trunks. Sure they still felt it, but nowhere near as bad as the tree tops.

Even so, Sam had a cold and dark feeling in the pit of her stomach not brought on by the planet's wind. She'd had it ever since the briefing but no one else seemed perturbed by a gut feeling, so she never said a word. Even if she did, she wondered how likely they would be to turn back, like every instinct told her to do.

"But you'd think Hammond'd give a break. Maybe let us gate to a nice beach…." Her CO's words cut through her thoughts.

Daniel sighed in exasperation. "Ah, Jack…remember what happened last time we were at a beach?"

"Yeah well," responded Jack, "that was just once. Not the kind of beach I was thinking about anyways. Nem creeped me out."

Sam picked up the thread, "I have to admit, sir, it was a nice eulogy."

"Ah!" Jack interrupted. "I thought we weren't gonna talk about that anymore!" The statement was followed by a fierce mock glare.

Sam and Daniel exchanged mischievous grins.

The team kept walking, looking for any sign of intelligent life. The M.A.L.P. hadn't indicated anything to suggest there was any intelligent life, but that was usually when the team was captured or almost killed in being chased off by the locals. Sam hoped that this was one of those times and that the team actually could have a simple and safe mission. The feeling in the pit of her stomach, however, indicated otherwise.

They walked the perimeter around the Stargate but still found nothing to signify any life at all, intelligent or primitive.

Sam was surprisingly beginning to miss the Jaffa fights and the danger that they normally found on planets like this. Glancing at her teammates, she saw that Jack was showing his disappointment; his eyes were flitting about in the hopes of some action. Sam hid a smirk. Daniel, on the other hand, looked like he was in deep thought. His eyes held a vacant expression and Sam didn't feel like distracting him. Teal'c still had the same impassive expression on his face, but Sam could see wariness in his eyes. He didn't trust this place either. That put Sam on hyper-alert.

"Think we should just go back and tell the good general this planet was a bust?" Jack asked, a whine just barely entering his voice.

"Aw, come on, Jack," joked Daniel. "We're supposed to have a week here. Think about it. Seven days of worrying about absolutely nothing."

"I would not be so sure, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c, glancing around slowly and uneasily.

Sam's heart jumped. So someone else did have a bad feeling about coming here. Figures it'd be the person who wouldn't show it, she thought with a tad bit of grumpiness.

"Why?" Daniel asked.

"It is just a…feeling. I do not know how to describe it—"

"That's okay, T," Jack interrupted. "Anyone else feeling a little…?"

Sam didn't say a word. Let them think Jaffa skills had saved them again. She knew they wouldn't have listened to her if she had said it first, unless Teal'c seconded it. What would be the point? They would still have trusted the Jaffa instincts over hers. She toyed with the idea of what would have happened if she had said it first. The colonel would have to apologize to her and the next time they would trust her instincts as well. Sam immediately shrugged the idea off. Even in her head, the whole situation she had just conjured was petty and stupid.

"Alright then. We'll head back and tell General Hammond that the planet didn't really sit well with us," Jack said. "Nothing's here, so I think we can block it, right? Carter?"

"Uh, right, sir. I'll talk to Walter," Sam answered.

The gate wasn't very far away so Sam allowed her attention to fully wander. Bantering with Jack and Daniel was fun and it made her feel like one of the guys, but she also got the impression that they would prefer to do it by themselves and her interference wasn't welcome. She didn't like to show her emotions so much and didn't want to share how she felt with one of the guys, especially since this was really the only issue she had with them. Or was it? a part of her asked. She had to admit that sometimes it looked like they'd prefer she be there but have it one of those be-seen-and-not-heard situations. All she wanted was to be treated like one of the guys, but if they really did feel that way…

Sam shook her head. If they really feel that way, then it just confirms that I'll always be the girl. It doesn't matter that I've pulled my weight as much as any of them. I'll always just be The Girl.

Then she wanted to laugh at her pettiness. This really was so stupid. She was getting all worked up over feeling left out. She felt like such a five-year-old.

They neared the gate and all hell broke loose. Staff weapon fire came from all directions, leaving the team with little preparation for a defense.

"Daniel, dial it up!" shouted Jack. "Teal'c, Carter, help me cover him!" The three teammates stood back to back and fired off into the forest while Daniel hurriedly dialed the SGC and put in the GDO code. Suddenly, a wild shot hit Daniel in the side.

"Daniel!" cried Jack. The gate was activated.

"Go!" called Sam. If she would admit it to herself, she knew she was doing this just to prove she wasn't the weak girl, but she didn't and Jack nodded, signaling Teal'c to get Daniel and hurry.

Just before going through, Teal'c and Jack paused and turned around in time to see Sam struck full-on in the chest with a well-aimed blast.

"Carter!" Jack cried and started back but Teal'c somehow managed to hold him back with one arm.

"O'Neill" was all he had to say. Jack turned back around and gave Teal'c a despairing look but obediently went through the gate, seeing no room for argument on the Jaffa's face.

- oOoOoOo -

Sam was so busy firing off in one general direction that she forgot her teammates weren't there to defend her six anymore. When she finally did remember, she wheeled a quick one-eighty, and to her horror, saw that Daniel was bleeding profusely from the side. Her attention wavered long enough for a shot to get past her defense and hit her full in the chest.

She barely felt the impact as she toppled to the ground like a puppet cut from its strings. Her surroundings darkened and she knew no more.

- oOoOoOo -

As soon as Jack emerged on the other side, Jack shouted, "Close the iris!"

"But what about Major Carter?" asked a confused Sergeant Harriman.

"That wasn't a suggestion, Sergeant!" Jack retorted.

The sergeant saw Jack was deathly serious, so he obediently complied with the order. A final blast made it through and harmlessly hit the wall beneath the control room. The gate shut down a couple of seconds after the iris was fully closed and Hammond made his appearance.

"Where's Major Carter?" he asked.

"Sh-she's dead, sir," Jack replied.

Hammond let that sink in before asking, "And Doctor Jackson?"

"He will be if Janet doesn't stitch him up."

"Medical team to the gate room," Hammond ordered and within a couple minutes, Janet and her team met the three remaining members of SG-1.

"Put him on the gurney. Gently," Janet ordered. Teal'c obeyed and gently laid the unconscious doctor on the gurney. After quick observation of Daniel, Janet said, "Give him some anesthetics and get him into surgery. We need to stop any bleeding and get that wound stitched up immediately."

"Yes, ma'am," responded one of her subordinates. They quickly raced off to the infirmary.

Before she left, Janet said, "He should be alright. I just want to make sure it doesn't get any worse. General." Janet gave a quick respectful nod and rushed off.

"We'll wait to find out about Doctor Jackson, then we'll debrief," said Hammond, knowing any other order would be refused. That and he too wanted to find out how the young man under his command fared.

"Yes, sir," responded Jack. This was going to be one of the worst debriefings he'd have to attend.

-oOoOoOo -

The tunnel was so long, Sam observed. If she squinted, a luminescent white light flickered somewhere up ahead. She frowned, wondering why she was here and not back at the SGC debriefing with her team. Looking down to peruse herself, she noted her off-world uniform gave way to a large, gaping burnt spot on her chest. The frowned deepened and creases on her forehead appeared. Why didn't she remember being shot with what looked like a staff weapon?

Her gaze moved upward again, searching the tunnel ahead. The light winked lazily at her. She glanced over her shoulder. A black abyss yawned to greet her.

Deciding the light looked like the better option, she slowly shuffled forward, hindered by every muscle in her body protesting fiercely. She gasped in wonder and surprise as various memories from her life appeared on the tunnel walls. Further traversing down the tunnel revealed some of Jolinar's memories as well. Not having lived these, she had little to no idea what they meant.

Light at the end of the tunnel, she mused, training her eyes forward again. I guess that means I'm dead. As she continued on, she barely thought about this strange emotional detachment she seemed to be experiencing. All that mattered was walking on; she was compelled to reach the end.

Oddly enough, the light never got closer, and soon the memories faded, the walls were swallowed by blackness, and the little white light blinked out.

- xxx -

The first thing she became aware of was a bright light on the other side of her eyelids. The second thing was a strange humming noise that she couldn't place. Voices spoke inside her head: "The resistance—the Tok'ra—they don't use the sarcophagus. It does bad things to you. It changes your mind. It takes something from you. I kept hearing…Teal'c, what is 'kalach'?" Teal'c's reply: "It means 'one's soul.'"

Sam's eyes shot open. She was in a sarcophagus. The top began to open and she was about to shoot out the gap as soon as it wide enough, but she realized in time that she wasn't wearing any clothes.

The thought made her shiver because that meant someone—some strange person—stripped her of all of her clothes and put her in a sarcophagus. She felt annoyed and violated.

Cautiously, she sat up and, once her eyes adjusted, saw that the room was completely empty except for a bench and some clothes on it. To her irritation, there was nothing to wrap herself in so that she could go to the bench without having to worry about someone coming in and seeing her like…like this.

She briefly waited, and still no one came in, so she scurried over to the bench to see what the articles of clothing consisted of. None of her military issue clothes were there but there was a breast band—there's no way the large, round band of silky fabric could be called a bra—and a navy silk tunic. There was also a pair of underwear and tan breeches. Another quick glance around the room showed no other articles of clothing so she quickly donned what was there. It fit well and was surprisingly comfortable, except for the tunic; it showed way too much chest for Sam's liking.

Her foot bumped something under the bench. Bending down, she saw a pair of dark blue slippers. The floor wasn't too cold but she decided she would prefer to have something on her feet in case she was able to escape and had to run through any rough terrain. If that was the case, she'd still prefer the slippers to bare feet.

No one came to greet her in five or ten minutes so she began pacing. Now she understood why the sarcophagus was so addictive. She felt strong, alive, invincible. She quickly shook her head and forced the thought from her mind. They never had given Daniel enough credit when he had become addicted. But for someone like him to succumb to it….

After an hour, Sam found out what the bench was for. No one had come for her yet and she was getting tired of being on her feet. She sat down and looked up at the ceiling. Tiles. They would be really easy to count if she took one of several mathematical shortcuts but she didn't know how much longer she would be here so she began to count them one-by-one.

- xxx -

…1,795…1,796…1,797…I wonder if someone's even coming at all? One thousand, seven hundred…dammit, I lost count! Sam had been in the cell for three hours since she had woken up. She was getting very bored with counting tiles; it was her twelfth time through. Sighing, she looked around the room…again.

The room looked like it had belonged to a ha'tak vessel but the inertial dampeners worked so damn well on those things that she couldn't tell if she was on the ground, in the atmosphere, flying normal speed, or flying at hyperspeed.

Finally, in frustration, she walked over to where she knew the door was and began to pound it as hard as she could. Even with the effects of the sarcophagus receding, she still felt an immeasurable amount of strength; maybe if she hit it hard enough, she could break down the door.

Rationality kicked in and she ceased her furious attack on the door.

No one even answered. In a flash of renewed anger, she lashed out with her foot and kicked it as hard as she could. That was a huge mistake. The impact jarred her foot and she felt two, maybe three, toes break.

"Dammit!" she hissed, clutching her ankle and checking the damage. Spikes of pain lanced up her foot and made her eyes water. Out of sheer willpower, she got up and hobbled back to the bench and began to rub her ankle. Her entire foot hurt.

Then the door opened and two Jaffa entered. They motioned that she follow them.

"I can't," she said. One of the Jaffa came forward menacingly. "I don't have a symbiote to heal my foot if I bust it up, so so-rry if I can't get up and prance off to see your god," she elaborated, annoyed. She bit her tongue, wondering what the hell was wrong with her. Deciding the Jaffa were more important at the moment, she watched them cautiously.

The Jaffa dropped their menacing pretense and walked over. Standing on either side of her, they gently (for Jaffa, anyway) picked her up and escorted her out by holding onto her arms so she could use them as support to walk. She limped along using her good foot. They allowed themselves to be used as crutches up until they entered the bridge. Sam was steered to the front of the Goa'uld's throne and instantly released.

"Kneel before your god" came the inevitable command. Instead of hitting her knees, they pushed on her shoulders and used force to get her down. It didn't take much considering her foot made her comply. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop several choice curses from making themselves heard.

To distract herself, she studied the Goa'uld. He had silky brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. His skin was a sickeningly beautiful shade of golden honey, tanned from genuine sunlight. Emerald green eyes were perched above elegantly high cheekbones. His mouth was quirked in a mocking smile and his eyebrows were raised in amusement. It was then Sam realized she was gawking. She scowled.

He grinned in response. It was a warm, million watt grin that didn't reach his eyes, which were shining in silent triumph.

He stood up and walked toward her. She gazed defiantly into his eyes. This only seemed to amuse him, which, in turn, ticked her off even further. "Who are you?" she demanded, expecting a sharp reprimand. None was forthcoming.

"It depends," he replied silkily. It was an interesting combination with his Goa'uld voice. "I am known to many as Zeus. Others know me as Jupiter.

"I notice," he went on, "that my Jaffa provided a walking aid as well as an escort. May I ask what happened? Not many are known to come out of a sarcophagus with an injury they did not have going in."

Sam was vaguely surprised he showed some interest towards her well-being. Then again, it depended on what he had in mind for her. If she was going to be a host for a prospective queen… She forced her mind away from those thoughts and back to Zeus's question. "I got bored," she answered. His brow rose incredulously, so she continued, "Well, when one is stuck in a box for three hours, one tends to want to get out. A person can count the ceiling tiles so many times before they go out of their mind with boredom. I wanted out but apparently your 'guards' here wanted me to suffer before I could leave." She held her breath. The sarcophagus was definitely having some negative side effects on her. Her tongue was way too loose. Now she wondered if more than just a couple of toes would be broken before she was thrown into a cell.

His eyes flashed, but his anger wasn't directed at her. Her two escorts stood firm, but Sam could see they were scared shitless. "Fools!" he growled. "I gave you a simple order. Explain to me why you found it so difficult to follow."

Sam's eyes narrowed. This was different. What had they been ordered to do, exactly? Why wasn't she being punished for talking to a "god" like that?

"Our sincerest apologies, my lord," one of the Jaffa murmured. "We did not realize her time within the sarcophagus was finished."

"Oh?" Zeus said quietly.

"We will not make such a grievous error again," the other added. Sam suspected the error had more to do with the hole they'd dug themselves into, rather than their forgetting about her.

"Oh, I trust you won't," Zeus smiled. Sam winced internally at the cold, malicious enjoyment in his eyes.

The Jaffa froze, suddenly very closely resembling statues. Their eyes were locked on the ground and their knuckles were white as they gripped their staff weapons.

Zeus gave them a disgusted look and turned back to Sam. "Do you have a name?"

Her eyes widened minutely in surprise. She had assumed that every Goa'uld in the Milky Way had heard of the infamous SG-1 and what they looked like. If he didn't know it was her, she might as well keep it that way, so she used her middle name. "Lynn."

"Lynn?" he repeated dubiously with a hint of mockery. "Well then, Lynn, where do you come from? My Jaffa tell me they saw three of your companions leave through the Chappa'ai."

"My people are nomadic," she lied, keeping her face straight, the words slipping easily from her mouth. "We travel to different planets and trade technology that we find. I have no idea where they would be now. They'd've definitely moved on as soon as I was kil-captured in case you used your technology to revive me and force me into revealing our previous location."

He stared into her eyes for a moment. "It is in your best interest to be telling the truth," he said warningly. "Is your answer honest?"

"Yes." They had another stare down before Zeus seemed to believe her.

"Why do you have no fear of your god?" he asked, amusement back in his voice.

"I've met too many of you and seen too many other Goa'uld die to believe you're gods," replied Sam. She seemed to be able to get away with back talking and speaking disrespectfully, so why not try baiting him? "I've even killed one of two myself," she threw in with a shrug.

That amused him even more, to her frustration. "I cannot convince you otherwise if you are truly set in your beliefs," he said. Sam's eyes widened again in surprise. He laughed. "You appear to be shocked at my decision not to punish you. I am not stupid like the others who think that by severely disciplining you, you will believe they are your gods."

Sam was confused. Zeus was like no Goa'uld she had ever met. He was kinder in his own way, for one, but she could tell his temper was very fierce if provoked. What's more, she actually had the right to not believe he was her god and she wasn't hit in the face for it.

"What do you want with me?" she demanded.

"I want a queen and you appear to be suitable enough." He walked forward and cupped her face. Her skin tingled with the contact. She stayed still by a great force of will. This time it was his eyes that widened in amazement. "You were once a host," he said, obviously shocked.

Sam glared back as he drew his hand away and the tingling ceased.

Zeus laughed again and stood up, motioning the Jaffa pull Sam up, too. "You need not fear I will make you a host again. Unless, of course, you refuse my offer." His eyes flashed dangerously.

"What are my full options?" asked Sam weakly, hating her situation more and more. Pain from her foot was making her dizzy.

"One moment," Zeus said. He picked up an object from a stand next to his throne. When he turned and straightened, Sam saw it was a healing device. He approached her and bent down. Warmth briefly bathed her foot as the healing device worked its magic. Gingerly, she tested her weight on both feet once Zeus was upright again.

"If you willingly take my offer," replied Zeus, not wasting time returning to the earlier subject, "you will keep your independence, your mind will not know the horrors of being a host to a Goa'uld, and you would have the rank of a queen—" he laughed cruelly "—or you could become a host and have no say in anything anymore."

Sam felt faint.

"What say you?" Zeus asked.