Stargate Fic: First Principles
Weirdly, "The Broca Divide" was the first SG-1 episode to pass the Bechdel test, which is good, because then I don't have to think about it anymore.

And the next episode, "The First Commandment," turns around and fails in epic fashion: only one woman speaks in the entire episode. Which is not to say she's the only woman appearing in the episode, mind you...



www.stargatecaps.com

As you see, there are three! Sitting at Jonas's feet!


Gen. Sam. 1,107 words. PG. Beta thanks to iulia!
There was one thing Jonas couldn't take away.



First Principles

Jonas showed Sam into another cave when he'd gotten tired of trying to persuade her to play nicely by pure force of personality, and decided to go terrorize his worshippers for a while instead. Sam could only hope she'd kept his attention long enough to be some help with whatever Colonel O'Neill was trying out there.

The cave he put her in was a dead end, and the only door forced anyone passing through to crouch and turn nearly sideways. Jonas posted a guard outside--to make sure no one bothered Sam, he said. Sam rolled her eyes at the pretense, but she made sure she was facing away from him when he did it.

There were rugs over the stone floor, and cloth covering parts of the walls; the height of luxury by these people's standards, surely. Sam tried not to contemplate the amount of work that had gone into the furnishings, or to wonder which of these people was sleeping on bare rock so that she could have some comfort.

She sat on the rug and worked on convincing herself that she wanted to hit someone--possibly herself, for walking into this--more than she wanted to cry. It was going to be all right. Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c and Daniel were out there--with Conner, hopefully, if they'd been able to get to him--and they would find a way to stop Jonas. They'd get backup if they had to; if it went on long enough Sam would find a way to help from the inside. She just had to wait. She just had to keep calm, and focus on being angry if she couldn't be calm.

Sam had mostly talked herself into it when a girl appeared, carrying a tray that smelled more or less like food.

Sam got quickly to her feet, and the girl flinched. Sam winced and stepped back, but the girl had already recovered, and knelt to set the tray on a low rock at one end of the cave. "I have been sent to bring you refreshments--the finest we have, for the God's Lady."

"I'm not--" The girl looked up at her sharply, and Sam cut herself off.

Sam recognized her, from this angle, with that look on her face. She was one of the three Jonas had kept sitting at his feet while talking to her--this one had seemed to be really listening. Given Jonas's current state, she might well have taken in more of what Sam said than he had.

So: a potential ally. Maybe. If she wasn't a spy. If Sam didn't scare her off immediately. Everything could hinge on the sympathies of one person who was supposed to belong to the other side; Sam didn't dare blow this chance.

"I'm not hungry enough to eat all of this by myself," Sam managed, softening her tone. Her stomach knotted even as she said it, and she knew that in truth she was both ravenous and too scared to eat a damn thing. "Will you stay and share it with me?"

The girl hesitated, looking from Sam to the door to the tray and back to Sam.

"It would please me," Sam tried. She doubted she had the authority to command, but she might just seem important enough to have her favor sought.

The girl folded--literally, starting with a nod that progressed into a bow, her face nearly touching the floor before she straightened up to kneel again. Sam sat down, slouching a little to let the girl look down slightly at her, and watched the girl uncover dishes and pour water into a cup.

"What's your name?"

The girl carefully set down the jug, picked up the cup, and offered it to Sam. "I am Batul, Lady Captain."

Sam considered correcting her title, but thought better of it. She took a cautious sip of water while Batul arranged a fishy-smelling stew and some kind of flatbread. Sam took a little of the bread, and pushed the rest back toward Batul, nodding encouragingly when Batul broke off a tiny piece for herself.

Sam chewed slowly, wracking her brain for ways to earn Batul's trust, or at least keep her interested. She couldn't start by criticizing or contradicting Jonas--Batul had already seen her doing enough of that. Jonas had all of Sam's weapons and tools, so Sam had nothing to show to Batul, nothing to offer her...

Except for the only thing Jonas actually needed from Sam: her brain. Sam was more or less the human race's leading expert on hacking alien technology. That was all based on the astrophysics and engineering she'd spent decades learning--well, astrophysics, engineering, and a certain amount of luck in her tinkering so far--but all of it scaled down to something she could share with Batul without any hint of pushing an agenda. Something absolutely universal.

Sam swallowed, washed the bread down with another sip of water, and then held up her hand with one finger raised.

Batul froze.

Sam smiled. "It's all right. You haven't done anything wrong. Batul, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Batul still didn't move, just watched Sam warily. "I don't understand, Lady Captain."

Sam shook her head a little, holding on to her smile. It was going to be a much longer process if Batul didn't have an automatic answer to this question, but first Sam had to figure out the difference between bemusement and caution. "It's not a trick, just a game. How many fingers is this?"

"One," Batul said cautiously. "Finger."

Sam grinned. "Right, good! Perfect." She added a second finger. "How many now?"

"Two," Batul said, relaxing enough to take another bite of bread.

Sam's cup was the only one on the tray, and she pushed it toward
Batul, and then laid her hands flat.

"And now? How many fingers am I holding up now?"

Batul looked from Sam's hands to her face to the cup of water. "It's a trick."

"No," Sam said. "It's mathematics. How many fingers?"

"None," Batul said, and picked up the cup of water, taking a defiant sip.

"Right," Sam said, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. At least two digits and the concept of zero: given that start and a good mind, Sam could take Batul anywhere. "None. That's my girl."

Batul lowered the cup and gave Sam a dubious look, and Sam laughed. Depending on how long she was stuck here, she was going to teach Batul math, or teach her that the people in charge were crazy, maybe both. Any way it worked they'd both come out ahead.