When he regained consciousness the first thing he became aware of was the silence. Besides his own breathing there wasn’t any noise whatsoever. The second was that he was lying on something warm and comfortable. His eyes flickered open to find himself staring at a rectangular length of carved wood suspended above. At each corner was a thick pole also carved, for support, surrounded by thin gossamer drapes on the sides. Okay…so I’m in a canopied bed… From the intricate carvings he’d guess medieval.

Slowly he sat up, wincing a little at the ache in his ribs. Am I injured? He ran hands over his torso. No obvious injuries and yet he felt like something had fallen on him, like his body was bruised all over. There was a different, smaller type of pain coming from the inner side of his elbow. Two pinpricks. Have I been injected or had blood taken? Or both? He shook his head trying to clear the fogginess of his mind. It didn't work. Pushing aside the curtain, he swung his legs over the edge and tentatively applied his weight, half-wondered where his shoes were…So far so good…glanced around the room. Stone walls and floors, woven rug beneath his bare feet, tapestries dotting the walls…Yep, definitely medieval…Wow, the detail is magnificent… He lifted a hand to touch the delicate stitches. Must have taken years to make…hmmm, no windows…so where is the natural light coming from? He was distracted from the question when he noticed the ring on his middle finger. Half a sapphire and half an amethyst in an oval, diagonally cut, deeply set in silver…no… platinum, two symbols on either side. Another work of art. Wonder what the symbols mean? He assumed it belonged to him, but he had no recollection of where he’d gotten it.

His sight fell to his clothing…That isn’t right… Searching for a mirror, he found one hanging between two of the wall hangings. He moved closer to inspect his attire. White linen, scooped neck, cinched at the shoulders with gold clasps, draped down to his knees, a leather cord around his waist. Oh God, I’m wearing a dress! Automatically he pressed his hands to his chest double checking…Nope, no breasts… One hand moved lower. He heaved a sigh of relief. Still a man, everything is where it should be. He studied the style. No, not a dress…more like Ancient Greek…Well, that doesn’t fit with the room…Just where in hell am I?

The face looking back at him was no help, only confused blue eyes stared back. Absently he removed his glasses and cleaned them against the soft cloth of his ‘dress’. The frames in his hand caught his eye. They didn’t fit with the room either. Titanium, specially made for me so I don’t break them during missions through the Stargate… Stargate?… What was that?…Also known as the Chaapa’ai… Another baffling snippet which at the moment was of absolutely no help.

Replacing his glasses he was distracted by the reflection in the mirror. Not of himself, but of what was behind him. On the far wall was a heavy oak door, with an iron handle and hinges. More interestingly, there was another four post bed with the drapes down. Is someone else in here with me? Cautiously he approached and drew back the curtain.

His breath stuck in his throat. A woman. An angelic, very voluptuous woman with red hair, dressed in a longer version of his robe. He leant forward to study the sleeping beauty…Sleeping Beauty, there’s a story about that, isn’t there? He pushed the errant thought aside to continue his appraisal. A pale lilac star decorated her forehead. What is that? Some kind of birthmark? That didn’t sound right. A tattoo? That wasn’t right either. His gaze traveled down passed her neck. A slim silver chain circled her throat and a pendant was nestled between those magnificent breasts. It looked like a shoe, a battered chewed up shoe. What an odd design for a piece of jewelry… His eyes focused on those beautiful mounds and he felt his face turn red. Stop it. She wouldn’t appreciate some stranger ogling her… He forced himself to move along.

A slim hand lay upon her waist. Long shaped nails painted with a soft pink polish. He glanced down at her bare feet, her toenails were also colored pink. Okay, that didn’t fit with the room or clothing either. However, it did go with his glasses. She also wore a ring. Same finger, same design as his. Was it a crest of some sort? For an association? Or family? Are we related? By blood or marriage? God! Am I drooling over my sister? He refocused on her face, looking for any resemblance to himself. Found none. She had delicate features, pale skin with a slightly rosy glow to her cheeks, lovely full lips. Just right for kissing…Stop it! Do not go there!

Long lashes fluttered open and his gaze locked on the most beautiful pair of eyes he’d ever seen. Violet eyes, deep and soul searching that touched him to the very core.

‘Uh…Hello." He eventually managed to speak.

"Hello."

That husky tone played havoc with his body. He gave a hesitant smile. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got squished by a load of bricks," she grimaced and sat up. "What took me out? I don’t remember."

"Er…I don’t know."

His eyes were once again drawn to her purple depths. They looked awfully familiar. He felt that he really should know who this woman was.

She returned his stare curiously. "I don’t mean to sound rude, but do I know you?"

"I’m not sure. I think so."

"What’s your name?"

"Dan…" His voice box seized up. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Dan…" He frowned. "I can’t seem to remember the rest."

"Well, Dan," she shrugged. "Pleased to meet you. I’m Ann…" She broke off with a frown of her own. "I’m Ann…" Her voice locked just like his had.

"Ann? That doesn’t sound complete."

"No, it doesn’t," she agreed. "But at the moment it’s the best I can do." She held out her hand with a lopsided grin. "Hi, Dan."

"Hi, Ann." He grinned back and joined his hand with hers.

The moment their fingers met a fission of heat tingled up his arm. "Whoa."

She snatched her hand back. Obviously Ann had felt it too. After a moment she reached out to him again, this time only letting her index finger make contact with his skin. Once again the ripple of heat coursed through them.

"Holy shit!" Her tone was wondrous. She tentatively wrapped her other fingers around him, letting wave after wave of desire bombard them. "I don’t think that’s normal."

Dan agreed. He was having great difficulty trying to hide the sudden arousal beneath his ‘skirt’. It didn’t help that he could see Ann’s nipples were tight little pebbles under the material of her dress. Clearly she was just as turned on as he was. "Okay, well I’m pretty sure you’re not my sister." He reluctantly released his hold on her.

"Why would you think that?" She drew in a ragged breath, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He placed his hand next to hers, indicating the rings. "They match. I thought maybe it was a family crest."

She studied the two rings. "What do they mean?"

"I have no idea."

A low chuckle erupted from her that made his stomach do flip flops. "You don’t know very much do you, Dan?"

His deep laugh joined hers. "Almost as much as you do, Ann."

She wiggled her way off the bed, carefully testing her weight before walking around the room. "Any idea where we are?"

"Nope." He watched her totter around the room. She did a full three sixty, which included giving the iron handle of the door a tug, which didn’t budge, and ended with her looking back at him. Absently Ann rubbed her inner arm and Dan saw she also had two needle marks.

Her lips twitched. "Any particular reason you’re wearing a dress?"

"I…"

She interrupted, "Let me guess. You don’t know."

"You catch on quick," he laughed. "I don’t think this is my normal attire…At least I hope it’s not."

"A bit drafty for you?"

"Yep. Don’t know how you women put up with it." He pointed toward the tapestries. "These look medieval, but these," Dan waved at his clothes, "are Greek."

"How do you know?" She titled her head in question.

He considered where the information came from. "Just do."

"What in hell is that?" Her eye had caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, and her fingers outlined the purple star on her forehead. She tried to scratch it off.

"I…er…don’t think that’ll work." Dan gently stilled her fingers, ignoring the tingly sensation that shot through his hand. "It looks permanent. Probably a tattoo."

"What kind of idiot tattoos a star on their head?" she groused.

Dan bit back the teasing remark that automatically jumped to his lips. He didn’t want to offend her.

She caught the action and gave a wry grin. "An idiot like me?"

"I find it quite becoming," he admitted. "It makes your eyes stand out."

"Wonder where the others are?"

"No idea."

They froze. Both had been paying more attention to heat spreading through their bodies and had spoken without thought.

"What others?" Dan mused.

Ann shrugged. "Another mystery to add to the list." She started to move closer to the mirror and inadvertently whacked her toe on the edge of the bed leg. "Ow!"

Pain exploded in his foot. "What was that?"

She was just as startled. After a moments consideration she kicked her other foot towards the bed. The second it connected to the hard wood Dan hopped back clutching his toes while she stifled her own outcry.

"Why am I feeling your pain?" He hobbled to the bed and sat down, massaging his feet.

She sat beside him, rubbing at her own feet. "I don’t know."

"That’s becoming our catch phrase."

"Wonder if I feel you?" Before he could protest her hand darted out and pinched his bicep. "Ow!" She jerked back, feeling the unpleasant sensation on her own arm.

"Can we stop with the experimenting already?" Blue eyes laughed at her.

"We’re bonded in some way." Her face became thoughtful.

Dan frowned. Bonded. He didn’t like the knowledge that flashed through his brain at the word. He had no idea where it came from, but he knew it was so. Twins sometimes shared a bond. He had never heard of any other ‘bond’ between people. A glance at the ring weighing down his hand and he recalled his original hypothesis about their meaning. Was it possible that Ann was his twin? Oh, God! What kind of cruel galactic joke was that? I am hot for my sister!

Ann was also looking at the ring, twisting the band around her finger in consternation. Instinctively he knew that she was thinking the same thing.

"What kind of warped world are we in?" She sounded angry, frustrated, regretful. "I’m ready to jump your bones but…" Her big violet eyes gazed up at him helplessly.

He gave a weak smile. "Why don’t we concentrate on trying to find out where we are. Maybe that will lead to who we are."

She nodded, gave a last longing appraisal of his body, then turned her attention to the room. "Dan, the man with the plan."

A  A  A  A  A  A

Jack stifled a groan. Oy! He felt like he’d been sucked through a straw. Sideways. Every part of him ached from his toenails to the tips of his graying hair. Cautiously he opened his eyes. Crap, never knew eyelashes could hurt. He tried to focus his vision and could make out two bodies. One large and black, one white with pale hair. He assumed it was Teal’c and Carter since his eyes refused to see anything except blurry blobs. Beyond the two lumps was a third heap sitting up. Too big to be Annika, must be Daniel. They were one short by his count. He closed his eyes against the glaring light. "Carter, Teal’c, Daniel? You alive?"

The blonde released a low moan, "Not sure yet, sir."

"Teal’c?"

"I live, O’Neill."

"Daniel?"

No response.

"Daniel?" Jack’s eyes popped open when the archaeologist didn’t count in. He still couldn’t see worth a damn. With great difficulty he managed to roll over and get his knees under him. Standing was beyond his capabilities and the best he could do was crawl around Carter to the final member of his team.

The body scooted away. "No, don’t!"

With his reflexes still sluggish, the colonel’s hand continued to reach out even as his brain registered that the voice did not belong to his best friend. His hand hit an unseen barrier and an electric shock pulsed up his arm making it instantly numb.

"I am not your companion," the stranger stated.

"You don’t say?" Jack growled sarcastically, nursing his arm. "I never woulda’ guessed." He shuffled back to his teammates. "How ya’ doing, Carter?"

"Bit achy," she admitted, "but my eyesight is coming back."

A bit achy? If she was feeling half of what he was, then she was in agony. "Teal’c?"

"My sight also returns."

They waited a few minutes, leaning against each other until they could all see normally. Blessedly as their blindness disappeared, the pain also subsided to a dull throb.

They were in a corner cell. Two smooth metal walls with matching floor. No windows. The front and side were clear. The colonel squinted. Nope, not clear… Barely perceptible transparent bars trapped them in. Must have been what zapped him.

"O’Neill, our weapons and packs are missing."

Jack’s hand automatically reached to double check and found his holster empty. Not a surprise really. His gaze moved to the cell next to them, eyeing the guy who wasn’t Daniel. He was a big man, almost as big as Teal’c, but he lacked the highly toned muscles of the Jaffa. Beyond the man he could see another two cells, but they were empty. "What’s your story?"

He felt Sam tense up at his side. "Sir, I sense the presence of naquadah."

"As do I." Teal’c had also stiffened.

Jack felt within himself the slight pull of the mineral towards the stranger, and forced himself not to react. "Goa’uld or Tok’ra?"

The man hesitated. "Tok’ra. At least I was."

There was a sadness in his tone but that could be faked. Jack’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What’s your name?"

"Partine was the name of my symbiote. I am Foltan."

"Carter, ringing any bells?"

He watched his 2IC’s brow furrow as she tried to access Jolinar’s memories. "There was a Partine…a close friend to Jolinar…"

"You know Jolinar?" The man stepped forward eagerly.

"Did."

"Oh." Foltan’s eyes clouded over.

"What did Jolinar call you?" Carter asked. It was a specific question only Partine or Partine’s host would be able to answer.

He gave a slightly sad smile. "In your language it would translate to…" he paused, searching for the right word, "…bear."

Sam relaxed. "He’s telling the truth."

"So, care to tell us what you know?" Jack gestured to their prison.

"Your companions are in the room opposite our cells."

The members of SG-1 swung their heads around to look, but all they saw was an opaque ‘glass’ wall about a meter from their cell.

"How do you know?" Jack squinted again as though it would help him see through the darkened wall.

"They occasionally…light up…the other side," Foltan shrugged. "It amuses them to watch you witness what they do to your friends."

Jack didn’t like the sound of that at all. "Who are ‘they’?"

"From what little I have picked up, they are called Bassats."

"As in basset hounds?" Jack couldn’t help the quip.

The Tok’ra’s lips twitched. Clearly he somehow knew of Earth’s canine breeds. "The Bassats consider themselves to be scientists. Totally impartial entities that continually conduct what they call ‘social experiments’."

That description did nothing to put the colonel’s mind at ease.

"Of what social experiments do you speak?" Teal’c asked, before anyone else could.

"One of my companions was left in there for weeks. They put a table laden with food in one corner and blocked his access to it with bars similar to the ones that keep us trapped in here. He was given water but no food of his own. The point of the exercise was to see what lengths he would go to in desperation of a meal." Foltan gave a bitter laugh. "I heard two of them talking, while they observed my friend go crazy with hunger. They were most impressed with his stamina. He lasted twenty-nine days before he threw himself on top of the barrier, electrocuting himself."

Jack paled. Crap! Just what have we gotten ourselves into?

"You said companions…" Sam’s voice sounded shaky. "What about the others?"

"One seemed to be living a nightmare, but he was wide awake. From what I observed, he was experiencing a controlled hallucination…"

"Controlled?" Sam interrupted.

Foltan nodded. "There are transceivers in the room that emit a low frequency sound wave. Using that and drugs the Bassats are able to control what the victims see and physically feel. I suspect that the so called village is also a deception, but a permanent one. Slightly different from inside there," he gestured across the hall, "since we were able to see it without first being administered any drugs. From what I can gather it is an ongoing experiment that has lasted for at least a decade so far."

The scientist nodded in understanding. "That would explain the energy readings."

Jack was looking confused.

"Think Star Trek, sir. The holo-decks."

"Gotcha."

Foltan continued, "He eventually scared himself to death." His voice deepened with pain. "My final companion, my mate…she was…" His throat choked up. "She was tied to a stake and burned to death. I was given the…privilege," he spat out the word, "of being allowed to watch. It commemorated the conclusion of a symposium. After that Partine committed suicide in hope that without the presence of a symbiote the Bassats would spare my life. I have since learned it was a needless sacrifice, I’m going to be the next…commemoration." "

Silence descended. The Tok’ra lost in his own grief, the three friends taking in the gravity of their situation.

Eventually Jack cleared his throat. "Buck up, kids, we’ve been in worst spots than this."

"I cannot think of one, O’Neill."

"Sure you can…" Jack wracked his brain to recall one but for the moment his head couldn’t get passed the images of the gruesome deaths the Tok’ra had described. "Come on, we’re SG-1," he forced himself to sound confident. "We beat the odds all the time."

Sam gave a hesitant smile. "That we do, sir." She started patting down her pockets. "So what do we have and what do we need?"

Jack started ripping open the Velcro tabs on his BDUs. "Hey, that’s my line."

The three of them pooled what they had. Six energy bars, a med kit, a flashlight, three canteens of water, two thin thermal sheets, three glow sticks and the extra capsules of rue Annika had insisted they take with them. "Okay, this is what we have. What do we need?"

"To get out of this cell," Teal’c intoned. "Free Daniel Jackson and Annika Murdoch, retrieve the stone and leave this planet."

"Right, Sam, MacGyver something up to get us out of here." Jack flapped his hand at their trove of goodies.

The major opened her mouth but bit back the retort when she saw the gleam in the colonel’s eyes. "First I need a bit more information." She looked up at the Tok’ra who was studying the trio. "Have you seen the control panel that works the bars?"

Foltan nodded and pointed to the other end of the room. Through the transparent bars, next to a normal-looking metal door, they could see two large keypads, each with a dozen symbols. "The top one controls our cells, the other gains entry to the room in which your friends are being kept. It’s a sequence of five glyphs, but the Bassats have always shielded the combination with their bodies. The door leads outside. There are no locks on it that I have seen. They’re confident that escape from the cells is impossible."

SG-1 exchanged startled glances. As one they rose and moved as close to the edge of their cell as they dared, straining for a closer look.

The Tok’ra saw the recognition on all their faces. "You have seen the control panels before."

"Sort of," Sam replied absently.

"It is a replica of the clay tablet Annika Murdoch sculpted."

"Okay, so we’ve got the sequence…"

Foltan frowned in confusion. "You do?"

"One of our teammates is psychic," Sam explained. "She had a vision of that panel and made us memorize the code."

The Tok’ra became thoughtful. "A psychic…does your friend have any other unusual mental capabilities?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"The Bassats' treatment of your friends was odd. When they brought them in unconscious and laid them on the beds…"

"They’ve got beds?" Sam interrupted. She recalled the Tok’ra saying that Annika and Daniel were in a room. "They’re not in a cell?"

Foltan shook his head. "I’m sure they’re locked in, but their accommodation is a little more comfortable."

"Why’d they get the good digs?"

A wry twist touched his lips at the colonel’s affronted question. "We are not worthy of such comfort."

"Huh?"

"Two hosts," Foltan gestured to Jack and Sam then to Teal’c, "and a Jaffa. The Bassats do not distinguish between symbiote and hosts, don‘t acknowledge that the Tok’ra are different. To them they are one entity. They hate the Goa’uld…as much as a calculating and impassive species can hate anything."

"We have deterred from the pathway," Teal’c pointed out.

Jack frowned quizzically trying to decipher the Jaffa’s comment. He gave a snort of laughter when he worked it out. "Gotten off track…you’re right, T. You were saying about Daniel and Annika?"

"They changed their clothes, from what I can tell they wanted to remove any trace of their origins, but when they tried to remove their jewelry they couldn’t. A purple glow blocked their attempts."

"Annika Murdoch’s shield."

"Gotta love that woman’s protective streak," Jack grinned. "Anything else ‘odd’ happen?"

"I don’t think the Bassats have been able to control the hallucination like they have with their other…er…subjects."

"What makes you say that?"

"When your friends were injected with the hallucinogen it…"

"Whoa," Jack motioned for him to stop. "Purple glowy thing didn't spark when they jabbed them?"

Foltan took a moment to work out Jack's lingo. "No."

The members of SG-1 exchanged puzzled looks. The psychic's shield had never been selective before.

The Tok’ra hesitantly continued, "Anyway as I was saying, it was the Bassats who were surprised by their surroundings. I believe that the only reason they have been kept together is that they cannot tell which of them is responsible for the oddities."

"Sir, look." Sam pointed to where Daniel and Annika were being held.

Any further questions the colonel had, were put on hold as the opaque wall began to clear, like a light dimmer in reverse. In a few seconds SG-1 could clearly see the missing members of their team. They were lying on separate metal beds. A shiver ran down the older man’s spine. He’d seen ‘beds’ like that in the SGC morgue. Janet used them as autopsy tables. He hid his sigh of relief when he saw both Annika’s and Daniel’s chests steadily rise and fall.

"Will they be able to see us?" the major asked the Tok’ra.

"No."

Daniel stirred. After a few blinks he slowly sat up.

"Right, here we go," Jack clapped his hands together. "Daniel’s awake, he’ll start looking for a way out. We’ll be home for dinner."

They watched the archaeologist make an odd stretching movement then hesitantly stand up and begin wondering the room.

"Uh…I don’t think so, sir," Sam sounded doubtful. "He’s acting strangely."

Daniel was currently examining part of the wall. Precisely what he found so fascinating about that particular spot, Jack couldn’t tell. To him it looked like any other part of the glass. "What are you talking about? That is typical Daniel behavior."

"Six months ago I would have agreed with you. Not now."

Jack frowned in confusion.

"Major Carter is correct. Daniel Jackson has not even glanced in Annika Murdoch’s direction."

"If he’s hallucinating he may not be able to see her," Foltan reminded.

"Daniel Jackson and Annika Murdoch do not need their visual senses to know the location of the other."

"Uh oh." Sam was focused on Daniel examining the ring on his finger. His expression was curious but blank. "I think it’s more than a hallucination."

They watched the flicker of panic on their friend’s face and relief when he patted himself down. He then studied his glasses.

"Sir, I think Daniel’s lost his memory."

"What? Again?" the colonel grumped, realizing that his hope of a quick escape just went up in smoke. Frustrated he saw the look of wonder cross Daniel’s face as he finally found out he wasn’t alone. Saw the desire light up his eyes. And clearly saw that Daniel had no clue who the woman was.

"Perhaps Annika Murdoch will have retained her memory."

Their hopes were crushed into a thousand pieces when the redhead opened her eyes and gazed at her soul mate without an ounce of recognition.

"Hey, that’s promising." Sam tried to sound hopeful.

Daniel had started hopping around because Annika had stubbed her toe. They watched Annika experiment with her other foot and the pinch test.

"They know they’re linked."

A figure entered the room.

"Ah, crap! It’s one of the Fraggles."