A/N: .. And now, the conclusion :D

I threw in a little parent/grandparent confrontation between Lantash and Jacob about Ellie/Sam. 'thought it'd be fun. Due to Jacob's "betrayal" I couldn't make him as outrageous as I wanted to, but I am pretty satisfied with the result.

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate.

Lantash, flabbergasted but remarkably remaining in control, can only watch as the small creature launches itself at Samantha. Only then does he recognize the Tau'ri girl.

She has most of Samantha's features but the eye, skin and hair color of Martouf. He takes pride in the brilliance of her eyes that he happens to glimpse when the girl looks up, uneasy at the SF guards. Lantash makes sure that they lower their weapons once he has seen her frightened expression, but then can only stand by and watch as the family – without Martouf, he must mourningly admit – gather themselves, Samantha holstering the girl in her arms, her tiny legs around Samantha's waist.

So this is Ellie. Elara, as Samantha named her. He starts feeling a sudden attachment to the child and wonders if that can be categorized as fatherly pride. Alaric is quick to assure him, having picked up on the small waves of emotion that he has not been able to conceal.

You can be proud, Lantash. She is truly beautiful.

Lantash has nothing to add to that comment, but cannot do anything to agree. Elara, named for the planet (almost) of her conception. He has forgotten how frail human life can be in its purest form. Even then, he can recognize the overwhelming attachment, a loyalty that he is certain Samantha feels too, an attachment and loyalty he can only remember sharing with Jolinar. The thought saddens him, because somewhere he has always suspected that he loved Jolinar more than she loved them. Rosha made up for it in her radiating love, but Martouf always tried to assure him that Jolinar merely was more private than him, making it seem as if they loved her more. Personally, Lantash was always content with the smallest of devotion on her part. He had felt gifted around Jolinar, having her near him. Utterly possessive, Martouf had called it. Now Lantash is reminded of both losses, Martouf and Jolinar, both a crucial part of their foursome.

Raw with grief and this new feeling of attachment to a child he has just met, he realizes that even without two of the four, they have accomplished greatness. Maybe not crippling the System Lords, but creating a small miracle. Elara.

It is as if looking at Sheena, Martouf's smaller sister. She is dead now, Martouf having outlived her, but when Lantash and Martouf first visited after their blending, he remembered the small child, a little older than Elara, who shrieked gleefully for her brother and made no protests when he scooped her up. She looked the same. The same natural tan, the cinnamon-colored hair and those crystal blue orbs that render him speechless. In his years with the Tok'ra, he has forgotten the concept of children. After all, no Tok'ra has children. Except for now. He is the honored father of his amazing creature who apparently has inherited his genetic memory. He sees the risk in that but does not acknowledge it; after all, she is a child. Neither she nor her mother is going off-world anytime soon, so bringing her to the base will increase the odds of compromise. It is the Tok'ra who have brought this upon themselves and now he wants to make sure they know it.

Glancing up, he sees that SG-1 have joined the corridor. He nods respectfully to Colonel O'Neill, who takes over, gesturing towards the SFs that they should follow suit. Despite this new attachment, Lantash feels that he has more pressing matters to discuss with Selmak and Callista concerning his own offspring. Therefore he entrusts the colonel with escorting them to other quarters before their time in the conference room with general Hammond. There they will discuss what is to be done, but for now, Lantash can only be sure that Samantha will keep Ellie secure on her person. A smile tucks into place on his face, feeling the pride well up in him.

You have managed to keep this from me, Lantash, it comes from Alaric but not accusatory. Just amused by the sudden softness in his temperamental symbiote.

x STARGATE SG-1 x

Lantash and Alaric quickly find Jacob and Selmak and Callista and Rhina, Callista and Jacob arguing somewhat loudly in one of the more deserted corridors of the facility. Not for the first time Lantash can feel Alaric pity Rhina for her burdensome symbiote.

"Jacob, Callista," he says as he joins them, obvious disapproval on his face. Both Tok'ra react, stopping their conversation. Only Callista seems comfortable with it, Jacob looks furious.

"Should we find somewhere more private to discuss this," Lantash suggests, making certain that they know why he is angry. They nod and soon find an available room where Callista immediately explodes.

"This wasn't part of the plan!" she hisses. "You were not to interfere with our mission."

"Bringing the child to the Tok'ra will solve nothing," Lantash thunderously remarks, his tone sharp. The thought of separating Samantha and Elara borders on insane.

Selmak surfaces. "Keeping her here will only endanger her. Endanger us," he points out. "We have always depended upon secrecy and subterfuge. This defies that!"

Lantash looks at him with disgust. "She is a child. Raised as a Tau'ri child, she will tell none of our secrets."

"You cannot ensure that," Callista says. "Children are difficult and easily swayed. Temperamentally unstable."

Lantash swears in Goa'uld. Both Tok'ra rise a brow, but do not comment. Jacob slips into control. "I don't think that Ellie will have a good future in either places.."

"Samantha has done well in raising her and I am certain that she will continue to do so with the secrecy of the Tok'ra in mind. Imagine the damage to our alliance if we claim custody of Elara now when Samantha is back," Lantash defends.

"It does raise a problem, but this child has the memories of Egeria and her offspring. You can attest to that," Callista exclaims, clearly blaming Lantash for this problem.

"By removing her from the Tau'ri, we create the problem. What are the odds of someone gathering intel on her? Only the three of us know this. Am I right when only we from the Tok'ra know of her identity?" Lantash asks, seeing them nod reluctantly.

"She is my granddaughter, Lantash," Jacob begins, but the symbiote quickly cuts him off, fatherly feelings taking over.

"Then you should not have created the problem by informing the Tok'ra High Council! Samantha was concealing the fact well, before we –."

Callista then proceeds to cut off Lantash's rage. "You knew?" she asks, appalled.

He looks down briefly, then resumes eye contact. "I did," he admits. "I was a part of Martouf, my former host, and Samantha's relationship. The day Martouf died, killed by Samantha to ensure that the za'tarc programming was not fulfilled, Samantha came to us, telling us of the pregnancy."

Jacob looks equally astounded and furious. "You impregnated my daughter and left her –!"

"No, we did not. I offered to unblend from Martouf so they could raise the child together. At the time I had no idea the child would inherit my genetic memory. Sadly, this was disturbed by Martouf's sudden demise. It took another year for me to recover and take a host. I have not been to Earth since. I did not know Martouf had fathered a child."

"Yet you concealed this from us." Callista's voice is sharp and bearing consequences.

"My and Samantha's relationship was never something the Council should be informed of. I chose to keep the matter private and secret when I heard from Selmak that Samantha had resigned from Stargate Command."

"I see," she says, betraying no emotion. She spins around, watching Jacob struggle with control. "Once Pakhet has been extracted I will speak to Samantha of this. Perhaps it would be for the better if the child were to remain amongst the Tau'ri." Something flashes in her eyes although not the typically Goa'uld trick. "Our bases are hardly equipped for a venturing child."

Had Lantash known her better, or dared to, he would have thought she smirked fondly at the statement. "Now, extracting Pakhet will be difficult. How old did you say she was?"

"Three millennia at least. She has only recently taken voluntary hosts, but she is weakened...," Lantash begins, with that ending the strained conversation. He informs Callista of Pakhet and her intel, knowing that Callista is here on Garshaw's behalf. Once they are done, she goes to contact the Tok'ra base for the equipment, leaving Selmak and Lantash alone.

"I apologize for my foolishness, Lantash," the older symbiote says. The calm demeanor reminds Lantash more of Saroosh than Jacob. "I acted upon what my instincts told me of a harcesis child. Never before as there been a Tok'ra child. I allowed myself to ignore my host's feelings on the matter. And I feel the need to apologize to you as well. Elara is, at some extent, yours. It saddens me that Martouf is not here to see her."

"Me, too, Selmak. I forgive you. You know my possessiveness when it comes to matters of the heart," he says.

Selmak chuckles lightly. "Yes, I remember you and Jolinar not always communicating because of that. I am glad to see these feelings revisited when it comes to Elara. However, she is no child of Jolinar." His face darkens with severity as he speaks.

"I assure you, my feelings towards Elara and Samantha are not tainted by relation to Jolinar. Martouf and I loved Samantha despite her hosting of Jolinar. We adored her fierceness, her compassion. Our love continue even now."

"Jacob is not happy about your keeping the relationship a secret. I think he is merely dismayed that he was not informed; and has missed another birth of a grandchild," Selmak informs him deeply.

Lantash nods. "Even then, I am sorry."

Jacob retakes control of his body, "Do not expect me to accept this lightly, Lantash. Even if Martouf is gone, I still carry great responsibility for my daughter. What you didn't I don't appreciate."

Not quite getting the message but understanding the protectiveness and where it comes from, he nods deeply, returning the gesture. "Then tell Selmak that I will not forgive his betrayal, even this small one. Elara is my daughter and I share your concerns towards her."

They share a look of understanding, both aware that they have a long way to go before their friendship recovers. The heated exchange of words forgotten, they proceed to follow Callista to the embarkation room to say their goodbyes before rejoining Samantha, Pakhet, SG-1, Generals Landry and Hammond and, of course, Ellie.

x STARGATE SG-1 x

Samantha's breath and heartbeat steady as she is reunited with her child. Pakhet notices this, fascinated but afraid to step too far, retreating to the back of their minds. Unlike her siblings, she does not wish to utilize such a beacon of Tok'ra knowledge. No, she is tired of the constant fighting and thirst for power. Samantha's world intrigues her greatly, but in the end, she knows what she must done now where she has relayed her knowledge – the important one, to be used by the Tok'ra in the fight against her terrible brethren – and only few tasks remain. Yet she studies the way her young host is with this child, a loyalty and devotion completely deprived of divinity, yet unwavering. The emotions Sam feels towards this simple, destructible child is unlike anything she has felt from former hosts. Make that hostesses; Ba'al has always insisted she take female hosts. Ah, the freedom from Ba'al. It is utterly liberating and she will enjoy every second of it.

Adored by everyone, Ellie, as she is named, has fallen asleep against Sam's chest, her mother's arms around her, an awkward position in the standard-issue chair, but Pakhet is numbing the pain in her side, treasuring the moment as much as Samantha is.

Several people she identifies by the use of Samantha's memories enter the long room, sitting or standing near the long wooden table. They glance their way, some daring to much, others quickly redirecting their eyes away from the protective mother. Pakhet chuckles mentally, understanding their fear if not their reluctance to anger Samantha. She is certainly a capable fighter despite being a scientist.

Pakhet glances at their chaperon. The man who holds Samantha's trust, although not as unwaveringly as in the past. She has peeked in Samantha's memories for answers and now knows the extent of damage done between them. This Jack O'Neill has betrayed her life, hurt her repeatedly, yet Samantha still seeks his approval and his friendship. Digging deeper, Pakhet uncovers the web of complexity that define Tau'ri relationships. Unbiased or not, Pakhet determines that he is handsome and Samantha has already deemed him trustworthy. He is looking at them like he isn't sure whether he wants to attack or protect them fiercely against anything that dares come at them. Pakhet nudges Sam to send him a thankful look. The way she is cradling Elara makes her forget about the very important meeting.

The Tok'ra representatives step through the door, and although they still are one man short, so the meeting can not fully start, Pakhet watches them with equal intrigue and a passionating rage. In truth, she acts on Samantha's instincts. This Lantash, what she feels for him is a more subdued form of what she feels towards the colonel. A gratitude and shared understanding. A mutual devotion. He is the father of her child. Confused by this, Pakhet can only nudge persistently to Sam, immaturely teasing her that she has many options.

Pakhet! she exclaims in mock offense.

Still, Pakhet points out. You have two men who are willing to take your word as liquid gold and prosecute your cause with dexterity. It seems to me that loyalty is not the problem.

Loyalty is exactly the problem, Samantha remarks, humming a nursery rhyme. I didn't tell that about Ellie; now they know only because I don't want her taken away. Why should they then trust me now?

Pakhet hears her words and feels the tugging sadness. You have a complicated life, Samantha Carter.

Then the summit begins and Pakhet must tune in to listen to every word.

x STARGATE SG-1 x

"Samantha?" Lantash's soft voice is different from Martouf's because of the different vocal chords, but when he whispers her name, she still gets the chills from that night, still feels attached. "I apologize if I intrude, but I need to speak with you privately. Well, both of you."

They have been assigned quarters, her and Ellie, seeing as she will not let go off her daughter even if the Tok'ra have assured her they will not take her daughter away. Sam still feels mad at her father for royally screwing up by running to the Tok'ra with information of Ellie's existence. It seems very out of character and that just makes the blow even harder, the betrayal grander. Like most times, she was right, this time in assuming that her father shouldn't know about Ellie.

She lets Lantash and Alaric in, directing them into the temporary quarters. At least she has gotten a chance to change out of that horrid dress and into base BDUs. With an offended imprint from Pakhet, she is left alone with them. That seems so wrong to form a sentence like that. She hasn't been alone for a very long time.

"Of course. Come in," she says friendly. She sees the way he eyes the sleeping form of Ellie. She is curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed. "I thought you might visit."

A ghostly version of Martouf's smile meets her. "That sounds comforting."

And awkwardness that wasn't present during the interrogation rises between them. She is not even sure how she feels about Lantash now; without Martouf he is still a version of her love, but this confuses her, especially with Pakhet in her head and remnants of Jolinar still here –.

"Calm down, Samantha," he says and for a second, she nearly thinks it is Pakhet but the symbiote has cowardly retreated to her private corner of her brain. The idea gives her the chills.

Her hurt, blue eyes meet his and she takes a sharp breath. Slowly and hesitantly, he pulls her into a hug. Martouf told her long ago that touches are not common among the Tok'ra, despite their open-door policies. Only among mates are touches so intimately noted, like caressing words. Still, it feels nice, knowing that Lantash has taken the initiative on something which confused him at first. His tactlessness has faded in the last couple of years.

"I never gave my condolences," she suddenly hiccups, staring into the green orbs, so different from Martouf's yet carrying a familiarity in them that can only be due to Lantash.

"Neither did I," Lantash says once he lets go of her. "I never blamed you, Samantha. You gave Martouf a worthy death. It should be I giving my condolences, I who asked for your forgiveness. If I had detected the programming and been able to prevent it..."

"Oh, Lantash," Sam says, realizing their mutual hurt. "I never blamed you. Seeing you alive, seeing the remnants of Martouf.." She sniffles very unladylike, "I was so glad. Here I thought all of Martouf was, well, her." She points at Ellie.

"You have done good taking care of her. I saw her love for you, and Alaric assured me that Martouf would have been proud. I must admit, sometimes my hosts are less clueless than they appear."

Sam laughs throatily, her voice still raw from the tears. "That might be the case." Then, feeling inclined to say it, she spurts: "I love you, Lantash. Not only because I loved Martouf."

She wants to say more, wants to describe exactly how she feels, all the conversations and drabbles she has had with Pakhet, but Lantash nods Alaric's head in understanding. "And I you, Samantha. Never doubt that any feelings were due to Jolinar's imprint on you. Both I and Martouf, separately and collectively, loved you for yourself."

He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and Sam leans into the touch. The warmth and comfort, naked from any ulterior motives, it is something she has not had in a long time. After seemingly hours, they free each other of themselves, understanding that it can never be more. For it to be more, it would taint the original feelings and Lantash seems to, however painfully, understand that. Standing on her toes, she places a light kiss on Alaric's lips, feeling silly but knowing that it is a gesture appreciated.

Lantash waits in silence before speaking, not wanting to compromise their new level of understanding. "There are the matters of Pakhet. You must know that they will not allow you to have a symbiote in you and continue your life."

Sam lets Pakhet take over, the transition smooth and still allowing her to watch over and interject if needed. "I am aware, Lantash. I have told you all I know of Ba'al's plans and weaknesses. The rest I plan to leave available. I am old and tired of fighting. My wish was to see Ba'al destroyed but after my attempt it seems unlikely that I will have another go at it, as the Tau'ri say. With my knowledge the Tok'ra, however, will be able to bring him to his knees."
"I am surprised that you do not wish to be the one to do that. I mean, you've had the opportunity for years, decades even. Why now?" he asks curiously.

Pakhet smiles faintly, her wisdom heavy on her shoulders. "Even I am a coward. I have accompanied Ba'al for a thousand years. That are more sunrises than any human in the galaxy, hosts or not. I have to admit that I felt a certain attachment. Cowardice is why Goa'uld hide behind the masks of gods, Lantash. Even my sister Egeria took her time."

Lantash's eyes widen, and Sam can feel her mental heart race – her physical one is being slowed down by Pakhet. "You knew Egeria?"

Sam can feel Pakhet shake her head. "For the most, she did not know of my existence. We were of the same queen, yes, obtained the same memories but if I could only claim to have done half the things my sister succeeded in, I would have been proud to rebel from Ba'al much sooner. No, Egeria is a level we others can only dream of reaching."

Sam, astounded at this new information, is fidgeting. If Pakhet and Egeria were spawned from the same Goa'uld queen, this is the first evidence of how the original Goa'uld system started. What Pakhet couldn't tell! As a scientist, this excited her, but she felt Pakhet push her back. "You are of Egeria's lineage, I presume?"

Lantash nods. Sam didn't know that, but then again, he always focused on the fact that not all Tok'ra were of Egeria's line, never who were. Pakhet seems content with these news. "Then the line will live on in you and Elara. I imagine Egeria's gentler nature is the one Elara has inherited. Fear not, Lantash."

He looks at her with an awe Sam has never seen before, and it is confusing because she has just been Sam and Lantash, now her symbiote is basically claiming to be blood of the Tok'ra!

"You unnerve Samantha, Lantash, with your apparent worship. I need none. I merely tell you this so it will help you help Samantha move on."

Wait, move on?, Sam asks her symbiote.

"Move on?" Lantash questions, as confused as Sam feels. She is almost glad to see him being just as out of the loop as her.

"Yes," Pakhet says, and then her final act becomes clear to Sam mere moments before she is overwhelmed by thousands of years of memories. Pakhet's consciousness disappears in the midst of imprints, hosts and memories. Dizzy, Sam falls into Lantash's arms, ill and clutching her head, nearly biting her tongue off not to scream in agony. All what Pakhet has ever kept from her – years of suppressing hosts, of plotting against other Goa'uld with Ba'al, of intimate knowledge of everything the Goa'uld represents. Impressions, expressions, colors, eras, deceptions, blood, emotions, rage, love – it all seeps through, un-chording to the point of true incomprehension. And Sam can only do one thing as the memories overpower her, stunning her momentarily – retch.

x STARGATE SG-1 x

A little over a month pass, and she notices how Sam gets sick but recovers after her encounter with the symbiote and its sacrifice. Soon the house on Pine Drive in Colfax is filled with new guests, all carrying brightly wrapped gifts for the birthday girl, some visiting for the first time since the tragic incident, seemingly forgotten and replaced by a renewed happiness on everyone's faces. Andy and Bree attend the barbeque and she is thankful that the yard is large enough for all the new people around them. The weather is wonderful, the sun shining brightly and long into the evening before it slowly goes to bed in the horizon.

Most guests arrive in the afternoon, having assured to not be off-world and remarkably all invited manage to get there, albeit Mark and his troops arrive a little too late but make up for it once Mark starts showing his barbequing skills and Liz and Davy start a round of hide-and-seek that basically everyone joins in. Soon the backyard is buzzing with life and grown-ups trying to hide behind doors and swing-sets. The sight is so innocently childish that Sam starts grinning before a certain colonel attack her from behind, tickling her at her sides so she bursts into snorts of laughter and surprise. Reprimanding him because she now can, she is interrupted when Bree gets a hold of some of said bright wrapping paper, sending it flying in small pieces across the green lawn at the meeting with Bree's fierce jaws and eager playfulness. The children giggle, even Cassandra joining in, but then they are instructed to collect the chewed pieces of wrapping paper, and Cassie organizes a hunt that soon leaves the lawn relatively free of paper.

Bree scowls, resorting to playing with a rubber ball that the children find on the verandah while the grown-ups chat about unimportant things around the grill. Jack and Mark discuss grilling techniques while Julie, thankful at a day-off, involves a helplessly disarmed Teal'c in a debate of social heritage, to which both Andy and Daniel try to help him with, while Sam and Janet set the tables over some girly chat. Cheerful atmosphere is set, childish giggles filling the air with the occasional bark from Bree, chitchat from the grown-ups never loud enough to deafen the kids.

"So, I hear you're considering moving?" Janet says casually to her friend. They're both beaming in their off-work clothes, the weather showing their best features.

"Maybe," Sam replies, carrying the glasses. "I mean, this place is too big for us and soon Ellie is gonna start school, so.."

"School? You're cleared to do that? Wonderful, Sam, congratulations!" the doctor exclaims, smiling as she puts the forks down on the correct side of the plates.

"Yeah, and as much as I like the proximity to San Diego and Mark, it's getting difficult traveling between states to work," she complains, exhausted at the memory.

"I can imagine," the softspoken, temperamental doctor relates. "So, near Colorado Springs?" she suggests.

"I don't know," Sam relies, but Janet doesn't miss the look she sends Colonel O'Neill. It is hidden, subtle, but the doctor has known the blonde for too long to miss or misinterpret it. "It is still in its earliest stages. I mean, God, I haven't even spoken to a realtor yet! Besides, Ellie is only turning four.."

"And you've been keeping her from us for three years, Sam! Don't think I'll be content with seeing her on the holidays!" the doctor grins, her tone nevertheless serious and light all the same.

Once the barbequed meat is done and the salads and bowls with roasted potatoes and grilled bell pepper putted on the table along with the garlic bread, the partygoers sit down and begin eating. Cassie is the one to keep control of the kids table, having chosen the task herself, so the grownups can talk without the constant interruption of eager and loud kids. Bree manages to sneak a few bits of meat into her mouth without raising the attention of her owner.

Once they're done and the table is cleared of food, they move inside, camping out in front of the television, the kids settled in a pile against Sam and Janet respectively. Stuck with kids on both sides, Sam cannot get another blanket but she shivers, feeling cold. Luckily Jack is soon there, adding another blanket to her shoulders but soon slipping in between her and the couch's back, using himself as a human blanket. Soon Sam cuddles against her former C.O., nobody else noticing, too caught up in the movies or the children who're dozing off. Daniel and Julie have started a board-game, both having seen this particular movie too many times, Teal'c studying them curiously, his attention divided between the game and the movie, a bowl of popcorn in his grip, matching the one on the table and the empty one a semi-awake Cassie has in her possession.

But when Jack and Sam rise, excusing themselves for the kitchen, Ellie watches as their hands clasp together innocently, the gazes they send each other. She knows that she will never have a proper life with her biological parents, but she can only excite herself with the thought of Jack becoming her stepfather. After all, the future is bound to be difficult. Then she feels her eyelids go heavy and the movie fading out, Bree's muzzle buried in her tiny lap, her snout against Ellie's knee.

A/N: It's now 3 AM and this story is done. I know the ending is very suspenseless, but I thought it was much like the beginning, so.. Tell me if I forgot someone at her birthday party. After hours of calculating when Ellie was conceived, I made her birthday in January/February, making the return of Sam and Pakhet's sacrifice around Christmas. This chapter turned out very shippy, but I did try multishipping as someone out there was kind to remind me.

Unfortunately, it will be a little while until I can continue this due to two pressing exams. Danish and physics. God, I just don't get half of it, but that's what you always hear those arrogant know-it-all asses say, right, and then they end up getting an A despite having proclaimed that they're no good? I certainly hope so.

The next installation, far shorter, will be called Changing Circumstances, the second part of "Seize the Orbit". It'll be emotional, it'll be about Sam/Ellie – and I'll throw you a bone: Jack. Don't expect it to get a happy ending, though, but watch out for it. Gosh, even I am excited.

Feel free to send all your love this way. I mean, er, … well, the damn button is right there anyway, right? WHAT DID YOU LOVE? STORY/PLOT-WISE AND WRITING-WISE? WHAT DID YOU HATE BEYOND REASON? PLACE FOR IMPROVING?

–Lea, June 14, 2012