TITLE: Force

RATING: 13

CATEGORY: Crossover/General/Romance/Action/Adventure

SUMMARY: Sam's all alone in a Galaxy Far, Far, Away…

SPOILERS: Probably eventually most episodes, and incorporating tidbits of new seasons if any spoilers inspire me as this will end up in the future.

WORD COUNT: 123, 857

FILE SIZE: 115mb

PARTS: 30

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the revised version (as of 24th March 2005), taking into account the comments of the oh-so-many wonderful, wonderful, wonderful reviewers. I was so astounded by the response that I got and I cannot thank you enough!

Particular thanks go to Dietcokechic, Pokey1984. Feonixfyre and Heartnut for their constructive criticisms at the very end.

There is one person without whom this would never have happened and so much, much Kudos to her for putting up with me all the way through and beta'ing and for inspiring me to finally give into the plot bunnies that started it. So, three cheers for Binksbabe!

Chapters 28 and 29 are the only ones with anything much more than cosmetic changes in them.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of ShowTime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and back story are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. The ‘Kalix’ belong to Timothy Zahn. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.


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Chapter 1
Sam looked up; she had the uncanny feeling that some one was watching her, someone without her best intentions in mind. She looked surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye, trying to identify who, or what, it was. Without turning her head or making it obvious that she was looking, she spotted the person in question. The short, fat, greasy-looking man that was headed her way was leering and weaving drunkenly, crashing into several other patrons and leaving a trail of angry, weapon-bearing beings.

Flicking her eyes back to the bar in front of her and her almost finished Corellian Ale, she reached down and made sure the safety clip on her holster was undone before draining the last of her drink.

She didn’t even flinch when an unshaven, grease-lined face was thrust into her field of vision and resisted the urge to gag when a wave of rancid breath washed over her.

“Hey there, how ‘bout I buy you another?” he said, leaning on the counter in what he assumed was an inviting pose.

“No, thanks; I was just leaving,” she told him, calmly putting her glass back down.

“No, I think you’re gonna sit here and keep me company a little while longer, lady,” he replied, clutching at her left arm. Rolling her eyes, her arm darted down and pulled out her blaster and, in one smooth motion, she pointed right between his eyes, faster than the unctuous man could blink.

The man stood there, jaws wobbling and eyes crossing as he tried to comprehend the DL-44 that was now pressed into the oily skin of his forehead.

Sam could practically see the cogs whirring as the man weighed up the pro’s and con’s of trying to…woo…someone who was obviously trigger happy.

“You’re right; I think I’ll just, uh, go now…” he said, his bravado obliterated, before gently easing away from the business end of the weapon.

Glancing at her wrist chrono, Sam decided she’d have another ale and then head out into the murky streets of Nar Shadaa, the smugglers’ moon.

She didn’t look up when the server droid delivered her drink but took the cold glass in her hands, pointedly ignoring the dirty tide marks that ran the length of it. She stared morosely at her hands, eyes tracing the hundreds of thin, white scars that crossed her hands, a constant reminder of three years spent in the dark, painstakingly packing ebony Glitterstim threads, lining them up minutely so that the crystals that edged them wouldn’t grind it into a powder, and trying to stop those same crystals from slicing her hands open every ten minutes.

She shifted on her stool, uncomfortable of the direction that her thoughts had taken her, the weight of her blaster against her thigh now a comfort to her.

She thought, once again, of the friends and family that had been left when Shivrall Telk had taken her, along with a group of natives, through the Stargate and had then forced them to work in the Glitterstim processing plant on some forsaken rock that they called a planet. She’d been unable to escape – the atmosphere outside the factory was rancid and volatile and no one could have survived.

She was brought suddenly out of her musings when someone sat on the stool next to her. She bit back a sigh, hoping they were just going to sit and drink and not bother her.

She spared him a glance and was surprised to see that he didn’t look like any of the usual suspects that frequented the cantinas on the moon. Sandy haired and quite small, he nevertheless had a look of quiet power about him that suggested he could handle himself perfectly well.

“Not what you expected?” he asked, much to her surprise and without turning to look at her. When she didn’t reply, he turned to look at her, revealing startling blue eyes and a slightly weathered face that looked vaguely familiar.

“Uh, not exactly,” she replied, at a loss for words. He remained silent for a few moments, only speaking to thank the droid for delivering his hot chocolate and Sam returned to her morose contemplation of her glass.

“Looks like you made an enemy,” he suddenly commented, a touch of concern filtering into his voice.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Sam muttered, reaching once more for her blaster and fishing out a few credits to pay for her drinks as she did so.

The spurned man and two of his friends were heading towards them, intent-full leers on their faces.

But before she could get her blaster more than halfway out of its holster, a tall man and a Wookie stepped out in front of her. The man had his arms crossed and a blaster - much like her own - in easy reach in a thigh holster.

The three would-be assailants stopped in their tracks, the leers falling from their faces. They looked up at the towering column of angry fur that made up the Wookie and seemed to shrink slightly. The Wookie roared once, the meaning obviously lost on the men, but crystal clear to Sam, who had been working with a group of Wookies for the last year, after being sold by Telk.

It involved dismemberment with a blunt eating implement if they so much as looked at her – Sam – again.

The three men got the gist, however, and were retreating even as the tall man translated.

Sam stared for a moment before shaking her head slightly and throwing the credits onto the counter. Re-securing her blaster in its holster, she nodded at the sandy-haired man and threw a word of thanks at the Wookie and his companion.

The sandy-haired man, the tall man, and the Wookie stood together and watched the short-haired blonde leave, her form-fitting black pants and navy top helping her to blend into the night, her knee-high militaristic boots making no sound as she marched off into the streets.

“You sure that’s why we’re here, kid?” said the tall man.

“Yes, I'm not sure just how yet, but she’s important in the future; that’s why the Force sent me here,” the sandy-haired man replied.

The Wookie whined a comment at them.

“The fur-ball’s got a point. Why are we just sat here, wondering? Let’s go,” replied the tall man, heading after Sam, his two companions following.


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Sam walked out into the night, trying not to breathe too deeply in the polluted air. Glancing left and right, she stepped out into the flow of beings, both human – the predominant species of this galaxy, or so she’d been told – and dozens of species of aliens.

She followed the walkway, heading back to her lodgings and wondering idly what had prompted her to go out tonight; it wasn’t something that she usually did.

After Telk had sold her, and a few others to her current ‘master’ – Terrell - she had been allowed a little more freedom, though she had a slave implant in her that meant that if she tried to get away, her head, and those of all the workers on her team would explode quite spectacularly. Terrell could get more humans easily enough, though apparently not from Telk any more.

Terrell had picked out a set of the healthiest from the Spice workers and had set them to work with a Wookie Task Force to carry out jobs for him, mostly mechanical jobs that required both the strength of the Wookies and the dexterity of the humans.

Sam became suddenly aware that she was being followed. Carefully maneuvering herself so that her tails wouldn’t realise they had been found out, she looked behind herself, instantly seeing and recognising the three ‘helpers’ from the cantina…they stood out like a sore thumb.

Taking stock of her surroundings, she ducked into an alley and drew her blaster. Setting it to stun – she wanted to find out why they were following her – she made her way down the alley. About 50 metres down, where no one else followed, she turned and aimed, half hidden behind a garbage compacter and waited.

It wasn’t long before the stalkers turned the corner and she reacted immediately, squeezing off a bolt of red energy at each of them – three at the larger, more resilient Wookie.

To her amazement, the smaller, sandy haired man who had led the three onto the alley, activated a small silver cylinder, which sprouted a bright green energy blade, which he used to deftly deflect all five bolts of energy.

Sam stared at them in shock, blaster still held ready as they steadily advanced on her. The smaller man, in a show of trust and openness, shut down his energy weapon.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” said the smaller man. “I’m Luke Skywalker. This is Han Solo.” He gestured the taller man, who nodded at her. “And this is Chewbacca.” The large Wookie whined a greeting at her.

That explains why they look familiar, Sam thought, eyeing them warily and still not lowering her weapon. Their faces are plastered over all the TV – Holovid units everywhere. A few more pieces of information fell into place as she dredged up memories of the scant few holo-news programs she’d watched. “Only a Jedi can handle a Lightsaber!” She remembered one of the Wookies – Dentralla – telling her once.

“What do you want?” She asked somewhat gruffly, finally lowering her weapon, though not putting it away.

“I just want to try something, a test of sorts,” he explained, calmly stepping forwards.

“What kind of test?”

“A Force test.”

Sam gave him a blank look. “A what?” Luke Skywalker smiled at her and stopped right in front of her, the Wookie a foot or so behind him. Sam, re-assured that her instincts weren’t screaming at her to run, finally holstered her blaster and nodded to him.

He stood in front of her, a shade smaller than she was.

“Just relax,” he told her, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Sam stared at him, puzzled for a moment, but relaxed and closed her own eyes, wondering briefly why she trusted him so much. She felt a negligible sensation in her mind but ignored it.

Maybe it’s because he reminds me of Daniel a little, she thought before reprimanding herself for letting her thoughts take her that way. She opened her eyes when she heard a rush of wind, a thump and two grunts – one Wookie and the other human.

She stared in shock to see Luke Skywalker and Chewbacca lying in a heap together more than twenty feet away.

She darted over to help the grinning Han Solo as he tried to pull both friends to their feet at the same time.

“Guess your Force didn’t tell you that one was coming, huh kid?”

Luke shot a withering glare at Han and massaged his ribs before looking to Sam.

“You have a powerful Force potential,” he told her with a boyish grin. “How would you like to come and train at the academy?” he asked her.

Sam grinned momentarily before the smile was transformed into an almighty frown and a look of anguish. “I can’t,” she told them. “Sorry.” She turned and walked off, stalking angrily away from them and cursing under her breath, moving into the flow of beings.

“Anger leads to the dark side,” Luke reprimanded her as he caught up with her.

“Look,” she said, whirling to face him in the middle of the pedestrian crowded street. “I said I can’t, now could you just leave me alone!” she was nearly yelling, and he could sense the pain in her.

“Why not?” he asked, calmly, some part of his mind alert to the presence of the beings that parted to swirl around them. Sam knew this as well and grabbed his arm, pulling him back into the alley that they had only just vacated, much to the surprise of Han and Chewbacca. Sam turned to face him, suppressing the pain and disappointment that she felt. I could have gotten out of this hellhole; I could have done something useful! she thought bitterly.

“You really want to know why?” Luke nodded, still calm and Sam reached up and pulled down the collar of her navy jacket, exposing the flesh just above her left collarbone.

The black tank top she wore underneath the jacket was just visible as she revealed a scar that looked oddly like a bullet hole just above the slightly too-visible collarbone. “This is why. I’m a slave. I don’t own my life, I can’t chose where it goes, and I can’t choose what I do with it. If I leave, I will die, and so will the other slaves - innocent people – so just drop it, would you?”

Leaving a stunned Luke, Han, and Chewie in her wake, she stormed off. If she had thought about it any great detail, she would have realised how much her experiences over the last four years, in a harsh world full of ruthless criminals - who were unafraid to kill - had changed her.

Chapter 2 – Release

No one paid Sam any attention when she stormed angrily into the shared lodgings. They were too afraid of getting attached to anyone because they knew that sooner or later, that person would die. It was just a matter of whether or not they died first.

Sam had been there the longest; most died within a few weeks of arriving, though some lasted a whole month. Very few understood technology to the level that Sam did, though. They were mostly from backwater planets, out of the way, where the ruling governments had absolutely no chance of hearing about it.

They regarded her with a mixture of respect, – for surviving and for doing her best to ensure that others didn’t get caught in the machinery too often – and hatred, – because she hadn’t died, and Terrell was particularly fond of her for the improvements she made to the efficiency and, indirectly, the safety of the machines. But none of them knew of her past…and she intended to keep it that way. It was because of Terrell's fondness of her that he would allow her to go out in the cantinas. He even gave her the money for it, saying that because she helped him to get it, she deserved a little every now and then, though it was given on a whim dependent on his mood.

Stalking over to her bunk on the far wall, she lay down, facing away from everyone else.

For the first time in more than three years, she allowed herself to think openly about the people she had left behind, her friends and family. A few faces rose in her mind in particular: her father, and her team.

As she thought about Daniel, Teal’c, Janet, Cassie, George…everyone, tears came unbidden and she cried silently, all the while despising herself for her weakness; she didn't cry anymore. Except when she thought of the life she had been torn from. She couldn't afford it in this harsh world.

She didn’t know how long she had laid there – she must have dosed off – but all of a sudden, the lights within the small lodging blazed brightly and she heard her name – or rather her designation - called.

“164, hey 164, wake up!” She sat up and squinted into the light, her eyes just making out the figure of Terrell in the doorway. With a sigh she clambered out of the bunk and stalked over, following him out of the door. “There’s a Gentleman wants to see you…privately,” he said as he led her to a series of small rooms that were adjacent to the lodgings. “You better behave ‘cause this one’s paying big credits,” he warned her as he opened the door and let her in, winking at her once before shutting the door.

Sam’s heart sunk. Other women…even some of the men had been called out for ‘private’ meetings before but he had never called on Sam for one…until now.

When she entered the room, she was both surprised and annoyed to find Luke Skywalker standing there, calm as anything and with a slight smile on his face. A rumble behind and to her right announced the presence of Han and Chewie.

“Look, if you’re into some kind of weird fetish…” She eyed them warily, annoyed at the Wookie’s quiet chuckle, Han’s lopsided grin, and Luke’s look of suppressed amusement.

“Ah…no, it's nothing quite like that,” Luke told her, indicating for Han and Chewie to shut up. “This was just the only way we could persuade Mr. Terrell to let us…well, me in here. I doubt his views of Chewie would have been quite so…accommodating.”

“Look, I stand by what I said earlier: I cannot go with you.”

“What about if we managed it so that we took you fairly, without any problems?”

“You mean buy me? No.”

“Look lady, don’t you want to get out of here?” Han asked her, pushing himself off of the wall and moving to stand by Luke.

“Sure I do. But if I go, then what about everyone else here…they don’t stand a chance without me.” Han snorted and Chewie growled a comment.

“What makes you so important?” he translated, and abbreviated Chewie’s somewhat more polite question.

“I have the technological knowledge that makes the machines run like they do. Without it, then everything would go to hell. It would be like it was before I was selected.”

“Which was?” Luke prompted curiously.

“People would survive no more than a day, two at best, and they wouldn’t get the rest, food or basic needs that they should have,” she told him bluntly. Luke nodded, conceding her point and stared at her in contemplation for a moment.

“Very well. Thank you,” was all he said before preceding her through the doorway, a carefully blank look on his face. A stunned Chewie and Han followed, glancing at each other occasionally.

Sam sat back down on the rough bed that was in one corner of the room and waited for Terrell to return and take her back to her lodging.

She thought the matter closed, although she longed to be able to leave with them.


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“Dentralla shut that sector down now!” Sam yelled as she ran towards the vibrating, steaming peace of machinery, pulling other workers out of the way as she ran. Dentralla ‘urf’ed a reply and bent forwards, putting all her muscle into turning the giant mechanism that would shut off the inputs for sector 8 of what was, this week, an ore processing factory.

Sam worked frantically for over 5 hours to repair the machines and getting them working again, knowing that if she didn’t, then they’d all be in for hell…particularly Dentralla and the worker that was assigned to her station.

She thought she’d finally got it working again when everything in the room suddenly shut down, giving a desperate whine of protest as it whirred to a stop.

“Sith! This can’t be happening!” she cursed, giving the metal bulkhead nearest her a swift kick. Suppressing a cry of pain as her toes protested against their treatment, she turned and slumped down onto the floor, leaning against the warm bulkhead. She drew her knees up and circled her arms around them, resting her head on her arms and fervently praying that Terrell wouldn’t be as hard on Dentralla and Tomas as he had been on everyone else, that he wouldn’t kill them, like he had killed everyone else.

She nearly cried out again when a sharp pain tore through her body, emanating from right where her slave implant should be.

She stood swiftly, favouring her left arm as she walked towards the door. Before she reached it, however, it slid smoothly open, revealing two figures. One she immediately recognised as Luke Skywalker…the other was a fiery looking redhead.

Luke smiled at her and greeted her.

“This is Mara Jade.” He introduced the red head. “A friend of mine and another Jedi.”

Sam gave him a puzzled and suspicious look.

“Why are you in here…in the middle of the night?” she asked him, glancing at her wrist chrono.

“After our….discussion a few weeks ago, I contacted Mara here, and she helped me gather information to allow us to stop Terrell. By using a bit of…uh…persuasion, he gave us the codes to destroy the slave devices. The New Republic is going to return the others to their planets as best they can, and another, significantly larger task force has been sent after the slave trader that supplied Terrell.” Luke explained with a grin.

“You’re kidding,” was all Sam could say, shortly followed by: “Why?” Luke frowned at her, not understanding. “Why did you help us?” He could sense that Sam was suspicious…she had no reason to trust anyone. To her knowledge, everyone in this galaxy was like the people of Nar Shadaa.

“The Jedi are upholders of the peace, protectors of the innocent. It's what we do.” Sam finally nodded, her instincts telling her that he wasn’t lying. It was all but impossible to fake that kind of innocent naivety.

“I’m going with the other workers,” she told them as they headed out of the room.

“Naturally,” Mara quipped, rolling her eyes. Sam was reminded forcefully of Colonel O’Neill, but she buried the feelings, pushing them away where they couldn’t hurt her.

When they arrived at the small private space pad of the factory, it was to find the rest of the workers gathered at the base of a passenger shuttle, Dentralla and the other Wookies surrounding the terrified humans protectively, eyeing Han and Chewie warily.

“It's alright, Dentralla; they’re here to help us.” The irate Wookie roared a reply and waved at them furiously. “I know, I don’t like it very much either but I think they’re honest, and it's got to be better than being here.” Again, Dentralla whined and gestured wildly. “They set off the self-destructs on the implants. Yes, that’s what that pain was. Look, I’m coming with you and Luke Skywalker here says that they going to try to get everyone back to their home planets.” Sam could see hope swell in the eyes of those gathered as they dubiously agreed to be led into the shuttle, Chewie re-assuring the Wookies, and telling them excitedly about their being able to return to Kashyyyk.

They all strapped themselves in as they prepared for take-off and the launch into hyperspace.

Sam felt a wave of excitement fly through her at the chance to fly in hyperspace once again. She wondered vaguely if it was anything like on a Goa’uld ship.

She had resigned herself to never seeing Earth, or the people that mattered to her again, but now she was faced with moving on and creating a new life for herself, without those people.

Chapter 3 - Dreams

The jump to hyper speed went without any problems whatsoever, which made a nice change from the usual feelings that Sam had long ago associated with it, as they were usually in some kind of dire situation whenever they were in hyperspace.

A few minutes later, they were joined by Han, Chewie, Mara, and Luke, who assured them that the ship was on autopilot. Chewie and Han headed over to talk to the other refugees.

“So where are we going?” Sam asked, wondering if it would be anything like the only two planets she had seen in this galaxy.

“Coruscant. It’s like the central planet if you like, where the New Republic is based,” Luke told her. Sam nodded…it made sense to have a ‘capital planet’, much like a Capital city.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get everyone back to their own homes?” she asked, glancing back to the other passengers, who had been born on planets in this galaxy.

“It depends. If they can tell us where their planet is, then it’s likely, and if they can’t, then we have to rely on the information the Task Force gets out of the Slave Trader.”

“What happens to those who can’t find their home?” Sam asked, fearing the answer slightly.

“We find them a home…somewhere nice, where they’ll fit in most and be comfortable…get them a job,” he replied, watching her intently. “Some may be eligible to become Jedi,” he added, giving her a pointed look.

“Me?” Sam stared at him, suddenly remembering his reason for all of this. “I don’t think so,” she told him, shaking her head.

“Why not? You have an unbelievable potential…” he told her earnestly, Mara rolling her eyes and muttering ‘farm boy’ under her breath.

“Potential to do what? I'm a scientist…an astrophysicist, and an Airforce Major…I don’t do glowing swords,” she told him skeptically.

“You have a potential to use the Force…to learn to be a Jedi and to help people,” he told her patiently; he’d got this reaction far too many times already.

“The what?” she asked him, one eyebrow raised.

“The Force. The Force surrounds us, it binds everything together, it-“

“What Skywalker here is trying to say,” Mara cut him off with a smirk, “is that the Force is this energy field that lets us manipulate things, that increase our potential. Look.” Without warning, the holster at Sam’s thigh – her being allowed to keep it had been a major plus point for their rescuers – moved, unclipping itself and allowing her blaster to slide out of it.

“Hey!” Sam cried as she grabbed the runaway weapon form the air. “You really did that?” she asked, only marginally disbelieving it; she’d seen telekinesis before. Mara nodded.

“And I’m not even that powerful.” Luke snorted at her comment, obviously not believing it, but didn’t comment.

“Okay, so say I agreed to this, what would I have to do.” Sam asked, still not believing that she was capable of actually doing any of this, or that her rescuers were really that well-intentioned.

“You would come to the Academy on Yavin 4 and learn with the other students, how to control your abilities, how to build and wield a lightsaber.”

“Glowing sword.” Mara interjected, earning a glare from Sam, which she laughed off.

“But most importantly, you would learn about yourself,” Luke finished, giving Mara a nudge to quiet her.

Sam remained quiet and Luke rose swiftly to his feet, Mara shortly behind him. He laid a hand on her arm reassuringly for a second.

“Think about it, you don’t have to decide yet,” he told her, mimicking her thoughts, before walking off to the synthesizer unit to prepare a meal for the people gathered.

Sam settled back against the back of the seat and rested her head against the wall, feeling the metal vibrate gently as the engines did their job. She stared at the bulkhead opposite her without really seeing it, her mind working over time, already tired from a full day’s work and a frantic five hours to repair the machine needlessly.

I could go; it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.

But I can’t do any of that Jedi stuff.

She shifted her position a little to ease the dull ache in her collarbone, where the slave implant had self-destructed.

But what if I can?

What if I can’t…he expects me to be able to do it but…

What about in the alley? Something happened, something made him fly backwards into Han and Chewbacca.

What are your other options…a ‘normal’ job on a ‘normal’ planet…there’s no way you’re still in the same Galaxy!

Sam continued to reason through it for a while longer before she drifted off to sleep, exhaustion – mental and physical – taking over.


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Luke stopped mid-sentence when the large female Wookie he had been talking too suddenly barked a comment and stood swiftly, moving away.

He understood the gist of what the Wookies were saying, a result of nearly 19 years of knowing Chewie, but he would often miss things, especially if they were short comments. He turned to Han, “What did she say?” he asked his brother in law.

“She just excused herself, said she’d be right back,” Han told him, gesturing over to where the Wookie was now carefully removing the holster from Sam, laying it gently at her side before easing the woman down to lie on her right side, careful not to jolt the sore left arm. Luke nodded in understanding and waited patiently for the tall alien to return.

When Dentralla had seated herself back with her companions, Luke asked her about the blonde woman. The Wookie shrugged.

“She came about a standard year ago,” Han translated, “part of a group of slaves Terrell had traded for. She seemed different to the rest of them, not so primitive. She learned about the technology fast and she began to suggest modifications to improve them…especially when slaves kept dying. She’d suggest a modification that improved efficiency so that Terrell would agree to it, but put it so that the way it was done would improve safety. It was like she held herself responsible for everyone. She never really spoke to anyone, only occasionally to her,” Han gestured to Dentralla, “or another of the Wookies. She made a point of learning to understand them so that they could communicate in the factory but she never spoke about personal things.” Han paused for a moment and then grinned.

“Looks like you’ve got two for that academy of yours, Kid.” Luke gave him a puzzled look, but Mara was one step ahead of him.

“Looks like, uh…” Mara floundered for a moment, suddenly realising that they didn’t know her name and substituted in the designation that Dentralla had been using. “…164 over there has got herself a Wookie life debt.”

Luke grinned as he finally understood what they meant, but his grin faded as he glanced over to the sleeping form.

“If she does come,” he said quietly before turning his attention back to the other refugees and quietly stretching out his mind, probing with the Force. He suspected that one of the human males might be Force-sensitive too.


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“COLONEL!” Sam screamed as she sat up suddenly, sweat-soaked and shaking, tear tracks marking her face.

She sobbed once, trying to slow her breathing and regain her bearings.

It was just a dream.

Except it wasn’t.

It had happened over three years ago, and she had been stuck in this galaxy ever since then, first in the Glitterstim processing factory, then as a slave for Terrell.

She had tried time and again to convince herself that he might not be dead, that maybe it had only hit his arm, but she never quite managed it. She had, at that moment, been dragged through the ‘Gate, and she suspected he was now dead, a charred hole burned through his heart.

It was for that, and her uncaring kidnapping and enslavement of so many people that she hated Telk, with an unbridled passion and determination that was oh so similar to Teal’c’s “Jaffa Revenge Thing.”

She waved the concerned Dentralla away, telling her it was just a nightmare, studiously ignoring the concerned looks of the other passengers, who she had unwittingly awoken when she screamed.

Yeah, she thought miserably, a dream I haven’t had in years…