TITLE: To Earn Freedom

AUTHOR: Sharim

EMAIL: MissSharim@yahoo.com.au

CATEGORY: Action, Angst, Drama, Adventure.

PAIRING: Sam/Jack, Other

SPOILERS: In the Line of Duty

SEASON / SEQUEL: Post Fair Game.



SUMMARY: Sometimes, the price of freedom is siding with the enemy.

STATUS: Working on it!

ARCHIVE: Sam and Jack, Heliopolis, My site (when I stop slacking off).

DISCLAIMER: Nut is mine. ( Gibson is mine. And any other ppl I make up along the way are mine. Unfortuantely. Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. .. But I'm working on it!! We have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. We also inhabit the same body! No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. Not to be archived without permission of the authors. Why would you want to archive it anyway? (

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm working on like four fics at once. Sigh. This is the first time I'm posting a WIP (that also hasn't been beta'd *cringes* but I don't have time to keep going over the same thing) and I'm posting it WIP so that I am *forced* to finish it, as opposed to letting it join the ranks of unfinished fic on my computer!

As always, to my buds: Suds - mooooooooo, Kitty - *raises a Teal'cish eyebrow*, Jo - Almost a year hon!!, Iona - ~wicked grin~ Laughing comes naturally when one chats to you!!!, Hoodat - for being there to cover for one very slack list mod!! And Sandy - Dunno what to say, but you still rock! Oh, and Uly - My german is *slowly* improving! (

And to the Kiddies at VS6 ~ you inspire insanity (

Chapter One

The dust hung in the air, casting a dull red fog over everything. Sam's mouth was dry and coated with a slimy rough layer of the shattered dirt, her eyelashes also hanging heavily with the sediment.

"Colonel?" her voice croaked in her throat, a dry, hacking cough working its way through her body until she was once again roughly inhaling the thick air in a desperate attempt for oxygen. "Daniel?" Again, her voice rasped in her throat, her hands wiping desperately to try and clear the stinging sand out of her bloodshot red eyes.

And then she froze, crouched awkwardly against the large rock she had taken cover behind before the C4 had blown the surrounding rock face sky-high. The layer of dust on the ground was at least ten centimetres thick, the debris deceptively soft and powder like against her tattered fingertips. Her ears strained to hear through the fogged air, desperately trying to pick out another sound in the still air.

She heard it again; the distinctive clank of heavy metal plates knocking against each other.


And again.

The noise, albeit muffled, grated against her senses.

Where were the others?

Her eyes darted around in their sockets, peering desperately into the dull red brown veil covering the earth. Her scalp itched; she could feel the dirt clinging to every part of her body.

The clanking was louder; they were closer.

She shivered in fear, her strained fingers already tense against the trigger of the P-90 resting momentarily on her thighs.

Where were the others?

A metallic voice grated out an order, the clanking spread around the dusty world.

She squinted, focusing through the red particles. There, a shadow of some sort. The dust was clearing.

Tugging at the bandana she'd tied around her mouth and nose, Sam realised it was dry and clogged with dust. No wonder she wasn't getting any more air. She lowered it and was freshly assaulted with a lungful of the dust. She coughed violently, the spasm working so deep into her body that she retched up a dry, caked red substance that she knew with disgust was all the muck she'd swallowed through the bandana.

Where were the others?

There was silence again, and peering into the dust Sam realised her position was almost certainly given away. She cursed her need to breath and raised the P-90.

For a second the air hung silent, stretched until Sam thought she could physically reach out and separate the thick blankets of dust, so the tension had grown. Her stomach clenched and heaved again, but she didn't make a sound.

There was a yell.

She peered wildly into the dust clouds, ignoring the stinging in her eyes.

Clanking, movement, another yell, a staff weapon. Where were they and what the hell was happening?

"Get your hands off me!" A shockingly familiar voice broke the sudden silence, and Sam felt the life drain out of her.


They had the Colonel.

Her insides clenched and her eyes widened, disbelief increasing her heart rate until she was sure they could hear the furious beating echoing within her chest.

"You will pay for your insolence, Tau'ri!"

"My insolence? My insolence? So what do you call attacking a harmless group of explorers for absolutely no reason?" O'Neill demanded, and Sam almost screech in frustration. No, this wasn't the Goa'uld to piss off. This one was in for the kill. She was mad, she wasn't a happy camper and that C4 sure as hell would have pissed her off.

Sam was right.

The redness was lit by a sudden glow, and a strangled gasp from O'Neill painted the entire picture. The hand device was being used, and Sam knew that O'Neill was a dead man.

Her radio crackled to life then, the static blurring the words so that all heard was the distorted echoes of Daniel's half formed words.

The Jaffa moved; she heard their armour.

She was going to be discovered any minute now. And O'Neill was going to be dead any minute now. Closing her eyes in a quick prayer, Sam burst up from behind her rock and aimed her P-90 in the direction of the forms standing in the swirling clouds of settling dust.

She opened fire, only avoiding the hunched form of O'Neil kneeling beneath the golden glow.

"Insolence!" The Goa'uld's voice scratched through the air.

Sam desperately hoped that Daniel and Teal'c were getting out of there while the attention was off them and on the other side of the rock fall.

By the time her clip ran out, there only a few forms left standing. From her right a flash split the air, and a split second later the blast slammed into her, winding her.

Fire leapt up her side, consuming her, numbing her. she became the pain.

She was as good as dead.

They knew it. She knew it.

Everything went silent, and she lowered her P-90, simply standing there in the dust.

A moan.

Everything focused on the limp form still lying at the bottom of the Goa'uld's feet.


Slowly she staggered over to him, ignoring their audience.

"Sir," she whispered hoarsely, dropping heavily to her knees beside him and placing a clammy hand on his slack cheek. "Colonel? Jack!" She slapped at him, her own hand like jelly while she tried to bring him round.

Tears turned to mud on her cheeks, the red pasty droplets looking like blood as they fell through the thinning air and landed on his own dirt caked face.

"Don't you dare give up on me, Colonel!" she demanded hoarsely, the will to live and fight draining out of her as quickly as the blood ran down her side.

He mumbled, moving beneath the limp hand lying unmoving on his cheek.

"Carter?" his voice was just as cracked and tired as her own.

"It was an honour, Sir," she whispered, her tears mingling freely with the dirt on her face.

"Don't. give me. that. crap," he ordered, still not opening his eyes.

But it was the false bravado she had come to expect from him.

They had fought together.

They had been beaten together.

And now they were going to die together.

A sob tore through Sam, and she fell across his chest, her body finally losing the battle to stay upright.

"No. crying." he wheezed, and through the rolling clouds of redness slowly turning to darkness, Sam felt his lips touch her neck in a brief, whisper of a caress as his hand rested on her back, holding her close to him.

". love you." she whispered, closing her eyes and her breath escaping between her lips in a light sigh.

His fingers tightened on her back momentarily.

He knew.

So did she.

They had always known.

They'd just never said it.

And now it was almost too late.

"Always," he agreed simply.


Her garments were chafing her delicate skin; the red dust had gotten in everywhere, and no one had escaped it. Nut spared a fleeting and unusual thought for her Jaffa; they would be uncomfortable in their armour.

She dismissed the thought: it was not her concern.

What was her concern, however, was becoming clean.

Nut hated dirt. Nut hated dust. More than anything she hated not being able to see the clearness of her host's skin, the wondrous colouring of the cascading curls and the delicateness of the network of spider like veins carrying the life-force beneath the pale skin.

She shuddered; distaste rippling through her as the dust-ridden garments swirled around her.

Without being summoned or ordered, Klerro had readied a bath for her and laid out fresh garments. Nut smiled in satisfaction.

The liquid was warm and silk like against her dry skin, the scented steam billows releasing her mind until she was floating on the clouds themselves, relaxing.

Unbidden, her mind turned to her prisoners.

She frowned; Nut had not wanted to think of them yet. But the thoughts persisted, and she sighed, admitting defeat to her own mind.

Her host was smug about the conceded inner-defeat, but Nut paid the woman no heed. After, Nut was the stronger, the more powerful and the one in control. The host knew nothing.

Letting her hand move idly through the warm liquid, Nut wondered at her unusual compassion. She was not given to compassion, none of her kind were, and yet. yet there was something in the Tau'ri that had affected her deeply.

Her host, proving most irksome, laughed silently from where she was trapped within the confines of her own mind.

Nut frowned, her delicate brow wrinkling.

Perhaps it was the loyalty and devotion.

Loyalty and devotion.

She should kill the Tau'ri scum. The had killed Ra. They had killed the only way of her ever locating Geb.

Yet, Ra had been the vile one, the one to take her brother and lover and lock him forever away, hidden from her and separate from her by the great expanse of sky.

Nut grew restless as her mind focused on her lost love.


She would give anything to have Geb returned to her.

Including the lives and freedom of the Tau'ri scum.

Nut smiled in satisfaction, her restlessness stilling with ease.

They would find Geb.

They would find Geb and she would release them.

She had no use for the Tau'ri; she just wanted Geb.

And they would find Geb.


That's all for now folks!!! Please Review and hang out for more. It's coming, I promise!!