Stargate Aschen

Chapter 6 - Trust Me

Sam stirred with a moan. Warmth surrounded her. Comfortable softness. Voices mumbled around her, too unclear and distant to make out the words. Images of childhood days flooded her mind. Days when she’d lain in her soft bed, and her father or Minny had read her bedtime stories.

Somebody walked by her bed, touched her arm and forehead. That was unusual. What were people doing walking around in her bedroom? Her eyes fluttered open. A ceiling of dark green canvas. Definitely not her bedroom.

Opening her eyes wider, Sam turned her head. She lay on a slim field bed in what looked like a large tent. The voices she’d heard had to come from somewhere outside.

Where was she? And how had she gotten here?

She’d been drugged, kidnapped. She jerked to a sitting position—and regretted it when dizziness hit her hard.

With another moan, she moved her legs out from under the blanket to get up. When she leaned on her hand, sharp pain shot from her palm, through her entire arm, up to her shoulder. Hissing softly, she tried to get up using only her left hand. The room spun and she had to grab on to a wooden shelf next to the bed to keep her balance.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there, sweetie. You really shouldn’t be getting up yet.”

Sam turned her head. A red haired woman hurried towards her, dropped a file onto the bed and helped her sit back down. Sam didn’t fight her. Getting up wasn’t such a good idea anyway.

“I want you to stay in bed for at least another day until the chemicals have washed out of your system.” The woman took her left hand and began unwrapping the bandage from her palm. “This was a serious cut. I had to give you a few stitches, but it should be fine again in one to two weeks.”

Sam observed her before she finally gathered enough focus to ask the question burning in her mind. “Who are you?” She looked around. “And where am I?”

“I’m Janet Fraiser.” The doctor smiled without losing her concentration in wrapping a new bandage around Sam’s hand. “Chief medical officer of resistance cell 4.”

“The best doctor in the entire resistance,” a male voice added from the entrance of the tent.

Sam looked up. A tall, bespectacled man, probably only a few years older than her, had stepped inside and strolled closer.

Janet rolled her eyes. “Daniel, as always you’re exaggerating.”

“She’s just modest.” The man smiled at Sam and extended a hand to greet her. “Hi. I’m Daniel. Daniel Jackson.”

“The nurse?”

He chuckled. “No, I’m an archeologist actually.”

“Oh.” Sam nodded. “Part of the resistance, I assume?”

“Yeah. Science department.” He grinned. “I’m responsible for decrypting texts and artifacts brought back from missions.”

“You bring back artifacts from missions?” Sam hissed when Janet hit an especially sore spot on her palm.

“Sorry.” The doctor taped her bandage and then released her hand.

Daniel Jackson cleared his throat. “Has anybody told you anything yet?”

Sam shook her head. “I just woke up here.”

“Ah.” Daniel pushed his glasses further onto his nose. “Just the rough treatment, huh? Sorry for that. We’re actually pleasant people, despite what you might think after your experience with our camp leader. He’s convinced it’s necessary to sort the wheat from the chaff. If you ask me, it’s unnecessarily cruel.”