Thor studied his sensor
readout with growing disquiet. The view screen of the 'Daniel Jackson'
showed the planet, Tartarus. From orbit, it looked to be a beautiful
world, innocuous with its blue-green oceans and vast continents. If only
its appearance matched the grim reality.
Tartarus - its pervious
tenant had been Anubis. Located on the edge of known space, this
powerful Goa'uld had used its relative isolation to his advantage and
fortified it with a powerful sensor array that monitored all comers to
the area. On its surface, Anubis had erected an impregnable fortress and
used the laboratories hidden within to create a new weapon, the
seemingly indestructible Kull Warriors that had run rampant across the
known galaxy.
Now that Anubis had
disappeared, Baal ruled as the most powerful Goa'uld and had taken his
previous master's domain as his own. Thor shook his head, and
remonstrated with himself. He should have suspected that Baal would not
abandon the cloning research that Anubis had begun.
His fingers touched the
sensor controls with delicate precision. He knew he was not mistaken in
his belief that O'Neill and Colonel Carter had were being held on this
world but the sensor array that defended the world below was more
extensive than he had initially realized. It would be much more
difficult to fulfill their rescue than he had first thought.
Two red blinking lights
marked the positions of the two humans, but until they were alone, he
dared not appear to them. According to his sensors, they were together
and stationary but surrounded by Warriors.
An incoming message
caught the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet unawares and the face
that appeared on his view screen was . . . disconcerting.
"Why do the Asgard
trespass upon my domain?" Baal's face sneered. "Do you not have other
worlds to bother with your trivial pursuits?"
Thor blinked, "I
apologize if I have disturbed you, but I am performing an astronomical
survey of a nearby anomaly."
"I know of none such
anomaly, Asgard," Baal spat out the name and wrinkled his nose as if in
disgust. Then the Goa'uld's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Would this
anomaly bear a resemblance to the Tau'ri?"
"My sensors show two
humans on your world," Thor nodded. "These same humans were taken
against their wills from their home world, in direct violation of the
Protected Planets Treaty."
"Bah, I care nothing for
your treaties; for you and I both know that you lack the ability and the
technology to enforce them."
Thor blinked, the Goa'uld
was correct in his assumption, but it had been worth a try. Still, it
galled him to have to admit it and retreat from such arrogance.
"Then you admit you hold them prisoner?"
"I have none here but my loyal subjects," Baal's eyes glittered.
"Now be gone and trouble me no more."
"And if I do not?"
"Then your pitiful vessel shall feel my wrath."
The screen went blank.
Thor rubbed his forehead
with one hand, this task would be much more complicated than he had
realized. It was at times like this that he wondered if it might have
been wiser to have thrown the impetuous O'Neill back through the
Stargate on Othalla when he had first tumbled down those steps all those
years ago and begged for help.
***
Anat stretched languidly
on her bed and watched Baal, adjust his clothing in front of their
floor-length mirror.
Upon his return from his
session with the Tau'ri O'Neill, he had been unusually amorous -
delightfully so. She wriggled with remembered pleasure and slipped out
of bed, her goal - her mate.
She approached him from
the back, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin against
the black brocade jacket he wore. She rubbed against the velvety cloth
and enjoyed the rasp of the textured fabric against her skin.
"Return to bed with me, my love," she purred.
Baal sighed and turned in
her arms so he faced her. "No, my queen, I am needed in the control room
- the meddling Asgard triggered our intruder alert system. They know of
our captives and bear watching."
"But I want you," she pouted. "And I'm bored."
Baal smiled down at her and lifted one shaped eyebrow, "With me?"
"Never, but if you must
go . . ." her words trailed off as her finger traced the swirled pattern
on his jacket.
"I must."
"Then I wish the Tau'ri O'Neill to be brought to my quarters."
"Why?"
She shrugged, "It would
help pass the time while you are otherwise occupied."
"I would not have
competition from a mere Tau'ri such as he," Baal's lips thinned with
anger and her finger stilled.
For a moment she wondered
if she had pushed him too far. Though he was her rival in the great game
of political conspiracy that all of her race was so adept at, he had his
uses and was a valuable ally, one she must take care not to alienate.
Her fingers resumed their tracing on his chest.
"No competition, my king,
merely a plaything to pass the time until your return," her tongue
touched her upper lip in a sensuous smile.
"He has not yet awakened
from the sarcophagus. He was . . . damaged in our last meeting."
"Then he will be like new
when he awakens," she purred, "And be so much the better for it. You
should know by now that I prefer my diversion to be . . . spirited and
passionate."
"Yes, you do," he bent down and kissed her.
Then you will send him?" she murmured into his lips.
Baal grimaced and pulled
away to look down at her. "Yes, I will bring him to you, but will remain
so that you are not without protection. Though he appears broken, I
believe him to still be a danger."
"So much the better for
me," she left his embrace and glided over to their bed.
***
Jack opened his eyes and
squinted against the glare. He looked from side to side and then sighed.
The view was the same no matter where he turned - lighted panels from
the inside of a sarcophagus. This crappy day just kept getting better
and better all the time.
A thin line appeared over
his head and it vee'd open to the accompaniment of grinding stone. The
lid was opening; evidently he had been judged to be fit enough to
release.
A face appeared above him, one he'd dreaded to see - Baal.
He blinked against the overhead glare and sat up.
Baal smiled, "Good, you have awakened."
Jack said nothing and
glanced to one side. The other sarcophagus was closed.
"The female will require a longer period in the sarcophagus."
Jack nodded; he didn't trust his voice. Too much had happened for that.
Like a motion picture
unreeling before his eyes, he saw himself give in to Baal. Yet, it was
as if it wasn't really him, someone else mouthed the words - and bought
Sam's life with his soul.
He remembered all of it,
every single detail was seared in his memory - his words, and actions to
include when he'd kissed the floor, his bare ass stuck up in the air
like a white flag of surrender.
He had the feeling that
Sam wouldn't appreciate the sacrifice he'd made for her. Oh well, he'd
done it and she would just have to live with it - literally. Lord only
knew that he would.
His mind shied away from
that topic - it wasn't a decision he'd made lightly and it galled him to
think that Baal had discovered what it took to make him cave in to his
demands. And knowing the snake as he did, Jack realized that Baal would
capitalize on that knowledge and flaunt it at the earliest
opportunity.
He looked down, to check
out dick and the twins; they looked to be none the worse for wear, at
least on the surface. Plus they hadn't as much as twinged when he'd sat
up, so that was a good sign. His belly and thighs were free of dried
gore too. Apparently the box had a rinse cycle along with everything
else.
"You will clothe
yourself," Baal gestured toward the other side of the room and Jack
stepped out of the sarcophagus.
Once out, he checked the
twin of the one he'd just vacated; it sat there, humming away So, no
chance of seeing Sam yet, but he'd try to hang around as long as he
could on the off-chance that it would open in the near future.
First things first,
though, he was fed up with traipsing around in nothing but his birthday
suit. The cold of the floor hurried him across the room and he hoped
that Baal had improved his color selection of clothes for the poor and
insignificant. He so didn't want to be stuck with wearing brown again -
ever.
"It's about time," he
muttered and then ducked his head when Baal turned his way.
As long as Sam was still
in that box, he'd have to watch his mouth. Come to think of it, now that
Baal knew how he felt about her, he'd continue to use her welfare
against him - he would if the tables were turned.
He picked up the cloth
suspiciously and then turned to Baal, the offending garment hanging from
his fingers. "You want me to wear this?"
"You do not approve of my
queen's choice for you?" Baal chuckled, his perfect white teeth flashed
in the overhead light.
Jack's Adams apple bobbed
nervously. "Your queen picked this out?" It came out as a squeak and he
frowned at his body's betrayal of his state of mind.
"Yes she did. In fact, she was most concerned that you be attired in
an appropriate manner when I present you to her."
Jack cleared his throat,
"Oh, no. This will do just fine," he dared a quick glance at Baal who
seemed to think the situation was funny. "Maybe for a hooker on a street
corner," he muttered under his breath as he stepped into the shorts and
drew them up to his waist.
He inspected them - they
were gray in color and fell to about mid-thigh. Not as bad as he'd
feared - but still not exactly his choice either. But then, that's what
this was all about, wasn't it? He was a prisoner and subject to the
whims of his captor - same old story, different verse. And this
particular captor had him by the balls - quite literally.
When the sarcophagus that
contained Sam ground open, Jack stepped toward it without question - but
froze in mid-step at the disapproval in Baal's voice.
"No," Baal's voice was hard, and razor sharp. "Attend me."
"But . . ." Jack's eyes widened as he took a fleeing look at the
familiar figure that reclined within.
"Honor your god," Baal's voice thundered and his eyes flashed.
Jack sighed, too angry to
trust his voice and dropped to his knees, his head held erect. Firm
hands on his shoulders applied pressure to keep him there. Without
thinking, he tried to shrug them off - and then froze as he was forced
to remember by Baal's glare.
"Fool, you try my
patience. I have been more than generous, why do you not cooperate as
you agreed?"
Jack remained silent and fixed his gaze on the floor at Baal's boots.
"Perhaps you require
another demonstration of my power."
Without warning, Baal's
fingers wrapped around Jack's jaw, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him
to look up at his captor. Unable to speak, Jack's eyes blazed
defiance.
"Yes, I see that you do,"
Baal chuckled and released his hold. Jack opened his mouth and his jaw
popped as he massaged it with one hand.
"Bring the female to my
chamber once she has been adequately prepared for the process." Baal
ordered.
"Sir?" The feminine voice sounded confused and unsure.
Jack recognized it and
yearned to answer - but hesitated. If he did, he wouldn't pay the
consequence for his disobedience, but Sam would.
"Attend me, Tau'ri," Baal commanded.
Jack watched the booted
feet walk away. Only then did the pressure on his shoulders end. He took
that as permission to stand. While doing so, he pivoted to one side and
his eyes darted toward the voice. For a brief moment, brown eyes met
with blue. Then he wrenched his away and walked away from Sam and toward
the snake that owned his soul.
With a Warrior on either
side, Jack followed Baal down the hallway, sidestepping a woman clothed
in rags on her knees scrubbing the floor.
Jack scrutinized the
figure that did not seem to notice that anyone was around, so intent was
she on her task.
Baal's voice caught his attention. "The female slave is extremely
industrious, do you not agree?"
Wary for a trap, Jack answered. "Yeah, I guess."
"All thoughts of
opposition were eradicated from her mind due to a new process I
initiated. It has proved very useful in ensuring the prompt execution of
my commands."
Baal paused and allowed
Jack to stand beside him. "Your mate can also be made to be such as the
slave we just encountered. Would you like this? It would make her much
more . . . biddable to your needs," Baal chuckled and arched his
eyebrows.
"No, I like her just the
way she is," Jack didn't stop to consider it; he remembered too well the
soulless eyes of the captured Kull Warrior that Sam had interrogated.
The Goa'uld was up to
something and he had the feeling he wouldn't like it. But he had little
time to reflect on it as Baal was on the move once again. A not so
subtle jab in the ribs from his escort had him walking again.
They approached a doorway
and Baal preceded them through it and then stood next to a blonde woman,
from her dress, his queen. Baal's next words confirmed his
assumption.
"Anat, I have brought the Tau'ri as you requested."
Jack stood there, taking
in the room. It was large and opulently furnished in the usual over the
top Goa'uld décor, which meant lots of gold inlay on the walls and
furniture. A large bed with rumpled red satin sheets dominated the
room.
As for the queen, she was
dressed in a skimpy peignoir that revealed more than it concealed of her
lithe and well-endowed body. She looked to be about as safe to handle as
a black widow spider and just as friendly to the male of the species.
Jack kept his eyes on
Anat who smiled and licked her lips as she gave him the once over. He
felt her eyes on him and shivered as if he could feel her touch against
his flesh. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment even as he chided
himself for his display of weakness.
He clenched his jaw,
hands fisted at his sides as she sauntered toward him, one hip at a
time. "He is as pleasing to the eye as I remembered."
Jack lifted one eyebrow
but otherwise remained silent, one eye on Baal, the other on Anat. To
say that he was in a precarious position was an understatement. For now,
at least, Baal seemed to be enjoying his discomfort.
Baal stroked his goatee and smiled. "You like him, my pet?"
Anat paused and returned his smile. "Yes, I do. Can I have him?"
"Hey, I'm here you know,"
Jack protested and then clamped his mouth shut as he realized Anat's
attention had focused back on him - exactly where he didn't want it to
be.
She circled around him,
and he tensed as her fingers traced his shoulder and then lingered on
the back of his neck where a certain scar remained as a reminder of what
could have been. Goose bumps appeared on his shoulders and arms. He
recoiled from her touch, but she pressed her advantage and maintained
contact with him.
"You were once one of us?"
"Nah, it didn't agree with me."
She laughed, "I can see that."
Her fingers caressed the
scar and then moved to his other shoulder as she continued to circle him
like a shark with its prey.
Baal chuckled. "Did I not
tell you of our first meeting, my queen?"
"Ah yes, I remember," her
fingers left Jack's shoulder and continued down his arm as she left him
and undulated toward Baal. "Kanan was his name, was it not?"
Jack remained silent, but
breathed a bit easier once she no longer touched him. He had the sudden
urge to take a long hot shower and scrub his skin with a strong
disinfectant.
"I don't think he likes
me," Anat pouted as she joined Baal and slipped her hand through the
crook of his arm. "No matter. That sort of thing has never mattered, has
it, my love?"
Baal's opened his mouth
to answer but was interrupted by the sound of wheels rolling across the
floor. Jack breathed a silent sigh of relief and looked to see what had
saved him from the over-sexed reject from the Fredrick's Of Hollywood
catalog.
"Your refreshment, my
lord," a male servant wheeled in a basin crowned with intricately carved
dragons and snakes. Baal nodded curtly, the servant then bowed and then
left.
As Jack watched, both
Anat and Baal crowded around the transparent bowl that contained their
meal and he removed the lid. Then he dipped his hand into the basin and
removed a wriggling symbiote while Anat followed suit.
She immediately sank her
teeth into the neck of hers, tipped her head back, and swallowed the
blood that spurted onto her chin and ran down her throat. Delicately,
she licked the blood off the limp pieces in her hands and then smiled
seductively at Baal.
However, Baal did not
immediately eat his, instead he walked over to stand in front of Jack as
the squirming symbiote screeched and spattered water on Baal's arm. "Our
refreshment," he thrust it in Jack's face who flinched away, his obvious
distaste apparent. "Perhaps you would join us?"
"Uh, no thanks," he
smiled disarmingly and patted his stomach. "I'm trying to watch my
figure."
"Ah, but I think you
will," Baal sneered. Then he turned to the Kull Warrior. "Bring the
female."
Then he centered his
attention fully on Jack while the symbiote continued to writhe in his
grasp." These symbiotes are without will, and serve as a means to
control its subject - much as the female slave you saw, or my Kull
Warriors. The surplus serves as food for us."
Baal paused and then
smiled as if an idea had just occurred to him. "However, I believe this
one would prefer your mate to being a meal; do you not agree?"
Jack's mouth opened in disbelief. "What are you saying?"
"You will choose whether
this symbiote is implanted in your female, or ends as your meal." The
words sounded so sensible, yet their implication was absolutely
appalling.
"You want me to eat that
thing?" Jack's mouth twisted with distaste as his stomach roiled.
Baal shrugged. "It is your choice. But it would be wise to remember
your promise to cooperate."
"So you're saying that if
I don't eat the thing, you'll stick it inside Carter's head?"
Jack flashed back to the
image of the woman bent over as she concentrated on her task of
scrubbing the floor, a mind completely wiped free of individuality and
free will. He pictured Sam as the slack-faced drone with no mind, her
free will gone - her eyes dull and lifeless, lacking the spark of life
and mischief he'd grown to love - and knew that there were worse things
than death for her. And that was it.
"Give me the danged thing
then," he grabbed for it but Baal held it out of his reach.
Just then two Kull
Warriors led Carter into the room. Jack spared a quick glance at her;
she looked okay, at least on the surface, but he wished with all his
being that she was anyplace but here, yeah . . . as if that was going to
happen.
"Bow before your god,"
Baal held the wriggling symbiote that twined around his arm and then
glanced significantly at Carter.
"Sir?" Her voice beckoned to him, but he ignored it, he had to.
"Not now, Carter," he hissed.
"Hold her!"
"No!" Jack shouted it, as
much a denial of what he had to do as his wish to stop Baal from
carrying out his threat.
Jack dropped to his knees
and then bent forward until his forehead touched the floor. It felt cool
against his forehead and calmed his racing thoughts. He could do this,
it was just like his special ops field training, and he'd certainly
eaten worse to survive. Snake on a stick, it wasn't so bad. It would be
a piece of cake; then again, he wouldn't go that far.
The tips of Baal's
gleaming boots brushed against his hair. "Arise and eat your reward."
Jack raised his head, sat
back on his haunches and opened his hands for the symbiote that still
screeched its protest. When it was placed in his hands, he raised it to
his lips and then closed his mouth around its twisting body; all the
while he kept his eyes firmly on the Goa'uld in front of him. At least
that way, he could avoid seeing Sam and her reaction to his seeming
savagery.
With a violent jerk, he
severed the head from its body and allowed the pieces to fall to the
floor. As blood dribbled down his chin, he gagged and started to spit it
out. It tasted . . . bad and scalded his tongue.
"No."
Jack froze and his eyes
snapped to Baal's, taking his cue from them, his gaze dropped to the
snake head's hand as it fell onto the vessel that still contained
thrashing snakelets. Those finely manicured fingers snatched a
screeching, angry symbiote from the water and handed it to his queen.
Sweat beaded on Jack's
forehead as he battled his own body to prevent himself from spewing the
contents of his mouth across the stone floor. He dared not move, all his
instincts screamed at him to wait; yet his stomach needed a new battery
for its hearing aid.
"Swallow it," Baal commanded, his pitiless eyes bored into Jack.
His eyes darted wildly
from Baal to Anat, only when Baal's queen stood next to Carter and
allowed the writhing symbiote's pronged mouth to touch her did the truth
sink in. If he didn't eat this one, there was always a live one for
Sam.
Jack closed his eyes and
swallowing convulsively, forced the mess down his throat - and clapped a
hand over his month as a physical control over his rebellious body.
Unable to breathe he almost panicked, believing for a moment that the
slimy juices had slithered down the wrong pipe. Finally he wiped his
lips with the back of his hand, slumping as he continued to kneel before
his 'god.' His pride was gone, as if it never was.
Baal smiled in
satisfaction, no doubt at the sight of his enemy now so reduced. "Return
them to their cell."
O'Neill sat motionless,
barely seeming to breathe - eyes wide and staring straight ahead - as he
swallowed several times convulsively. Then he looked up at Baal and
pushed himself to his feet.
"Yeah, sure," he shrugged
- beyond words at this point. "Whatever you say."
His eyes straight ahead
and teeth clenched so tight they ached; he plodded doggedly toward his
cell. As soon as he arrived, he sprinted for the facilities, dropped to
his knees, and vomited the contents of his stomach into the
container.
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