A roaring filled his ears, thundering in a rhythmic pulse, matched to the beat of his heart and the hard, deep intake of breath--

Jack O'Neill sat bolt upright, momentarily disoriented. Where the hell was he?

Across the broad, food laden table, Teal'c raised one eloquent eyebrow, and said nothing. For a moment Jack returned Teal'c steady gaze before realizing why he had earned the Jaffa's stern scrutiny. "I was just resting my eyes," he mouthed, without actually saying the words. Teal'c probably couldn't hear him over the din in the main hall anyway. O'Neill sank back into the cushions on which he was resting, felt a flush of blood rush to his cheeks. Falling asleep at someone else's feast was bad enough, but snoring, loudly and sonorously, was *definitely* in bad taste. Even as he formulated the thought he felt his head sag into the cushions. Jerking himself upright, he resisted the urge to glance at Teal'c. 'Come, on, O'Neill, it won't do to let the natives see you doing the bob and weave.' Forcing himself to sit straight he surveyed the room for what seemed the hundredth time in the past four days. Four days. That alone was good reason to sleep.

O'Neill hadn't decided which was worse, passing through the Stargate and landing in the middle of a fire fight with the local militia, or landing in the loving arms of a population determined to feast a foreign traveler into oblivion. At least, this time, they had not been welcomed as gods, 'Just damn near,' he thought. He had had enough party after the second day to last him for a long time, but their hosts insisted that the full feast be observed It was, after all, the winter solstice, the harvest had been good, food was plentiful, and guests were welcome, or so Daniel had assured them. Besides, Daniel had been given the go-ahead to investigate the local ruins and was taking full advantage the opportunity.

****

This planetfall had proven to be a rare oasis of calm. They had stepped out of the Stargate into a wonderland of ice. Hoarfrost shimmered from the branches of trees and bushes, coating the tall grasses around the gate, glistening in the cold winter sunlight like crystalline bangles from a glass blower's magic wand. The air was so crisp and cold that each breath became a suspended cloud of ice, that frosted the fur edged hoods of their parkas. Silence filled the air. No birds chirped, no animals rustled through the underbrush, as though every living thing was immobilized for fear of crushing nature's fragile sculpture. Their footsteps crunched on the icy turf, the sound amplified by the still air.

They had moved away from the Stargate in the usual recon pattern, taking notes, videos and samples as they proceeded. There appeared to be no signs of habitation. On almost all the worlds they had visited which supported a viable human or non-human culture, there had been some sign of their presence within a short radius of the gate itself. This world appeared to be uninhabited, and O'Neill was about to call the team back when they crested the hill above the village in which they now feasted. In the valley below lay a sprawling community of flat roofed, white brick structures interconnected by walled courts, leading to a central thoroughfare that widened in several areas into broad plazas. Wreaths of smoke hung in the still air above the buildings.

"I can only guess from here, but this town is similar in some respects to the type of copper age villages excavated in Jordan. Technologically, it is probably no more advanced than that," Daniel had said, eager anticipation evident in his tone of voice. "Its odd though. The design of the houses is more indicative of desert dwellings, not the roof structure normally associated with cold, snowy climates. Not exactly my area of expertise."

O'Neill had eyed him skeptically. When Daniel started rambling out loud it usually meant he was more than eager to explore, since no ancient culture remained outside his "area of expertise" for long. It also meant they would probably have to drag him kicking and screaming back to the gate when it was time to depart.

Whether or not to proceed into the village became a moot point, when a stifled yelp from their left caught everyone's attention. Standing silently in the scrub brush to their left was a young girl, as startled by their appearance as they had been by her small scream. In her hand was a long staff, and behind her a small flock of goats. She had moved so quietly that no one had heard her approach.

Daniel immediately stepped forward, empty hands extended to show her that he had nothing with which to harm her. It had become an SG-1 routine, though it had taken O'Neill a while to become accustomed to allowing a civilian to take point in a potentially dangerous situation. Daniel hadn't given him much choice. His enthusiasm usually outweighed his sense of caution, and he leapt openly into first contact situations. One day he was going to get killed outright, but O'Neill had grudgingly admitted that the archeologist's technique generally worked. So many civilizations transplanted by the Goa'uld were dark-eyed, dark skinned peoples. With rare exception, Daniel's fair coloring and open guileless nature, so intrigued the native populations, that he was often able to gain their confidence before they realized what was happening.

There current situation appeared to be no exception. Daniel had the girl's rapt attention, though O'Neill doubted she understood a word the younger man was saying. Her wide-eyed look told O'Neill all he needed to know. Whoever the leader of this group was, they'd get a quick and easy introduction. The young girl reached out and fingered the long hair that perpetually hung in Daniel's eyes. 'Someday this is going to backfire,' O'Neill thought, 'then we'll have to see if Carter has the same ability to charm the natives.'

As it turned out there was little need for charm. The girl escorted them into the village and after overcoming their initial nervousness, the natives proved to be as fascinated by SG-1 as Daniel was with them. The earth team found themselves surrounded by curious natives, who, like children, pressed close, examining their uniforms, chattering at the sight of Carter's short hair, and inquisitively touching everything. They spoke a broken mix of what Daniel called early Hebrew and Arabic, sprinkled with several centuries of local idioms which he assured O'Neill he could understand.

O'Neill would have abandoned the planet at this point, writing it off as yet another transplanted earth culture that had not developed technologically to a point where they could be an effective ally against the Goa'uld. Neither were they slaves to the Goa'uld. In his book, this was a world best left alone to develop without interference. That is until Daniel heard about 'the temple of the ancients.' Now, to O'Neill, the title alone smelled of trouble.

****

"Well this is a definite let down," O'Neill commented as their native guide stopped in front of a rough hewn hole in the heavily forested hillside. The so called temple of the ancients appeared to be nothing more than a cave.

The leader of the village elders, a middle aged man with a salt and pepper beard and a regal manner named Fazil, had listened patiently to Daniel's request to investigate the supposed ruins. At the end of the lengthy interview, conducted in a broken mix of English and the native dialect, Daniel had apparently gained Fazil's trust and SG-1 had been granted permission to investigate the "temple." And so, the day after their arrival, O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c and Daniel Jackson found themselves tramping through the frozen countryside in search of archeological wonder, O'Neill observed sarcastically. Their guide was Fazil's own son, Aiman, a young man in his early twenties who was very eager to converse with Daniel Jackson, and had literally clung to the young archeologist like moss to a rock. The route he had taken to the ruins led out of the valley and into the foothills, snaking through the forest. O'Neill estimated they had traveled five to six miles to an area covered with trees whose girth rivaled the redwoods of earth, towering straight up to dizzying heights, impressive in themselves but not temples to anything except the force of nature. Snow had begun to fall lightly as they trekked through the forest, dusting the ground and the bare branches of the underbrush with white. While the scenery was breathtaking, O'Neill still hadn't seen anything worth investigating. There were no fallen structures or evidence of other architecture associated with a temple of any denomination

"I guess I expected something a little more....well constructed," O'Neill said, staring at the crude wooden door that covered the opening in the side of the hill.

"Jack, some of the greatest archeological treasures known to man have been found under centuries of natural debris." Daniel said, barely able to contain his anticipation. "We have no idea what might be buried here."

"Yeah, well, I'll take what's behind door number three."

"There is only one door, O'Neill." Teal'c observed.

"Yeah, right." And why did he have such a bad feeling about this *one*.

Aiman, had been busy lighting torches, chattering with Daniel as he did so. When he finished he motioned for SG-1 to follow and stepped into the hillside opening. One by one, O'Neill watched his teammates disappear into the cave. Ducking to avoid the low roof, O'Neill was the last to reluctantly enter the enclosed space. He heard Daniel ahead of him, eagerly questioning Aiman. O'Neill was unable to shake the sensation that he was willingly walking into an enemy encampment.

The first hundred feet of the cave was little more than a dirt passage, held together by the heavily impacted root mass of the trees towering overhead. Footing was poor as they stepped over gnarled, centuries old roots, and around those growing from the ceiling. O'Neill preferred not to think of what might be crawling through the earthen walls. After a short while he noticed that the floor became smoother, the roots less numerous, and ceiling of the cave higher. It was warmer within the sheltering walls of earth, and as they moved deeper into the tunnel the smell of the place changed. The scent of living earth gave way to the stale odor of air that had been confined too long, of metal that had begun to corrode in the dampness, of mildew and fungi. In the dim light from Aiman's torch, O'Neill could see sheets of tattered webbing, the work of centuries of industrious insects, draped from every available anchoring projection. He could hear the incessant drip of groundwater from somewhere off to his left, and a sudden change in Daniel's tone. He could not quite make out the words but he recognized the excitement in the young archeologist's voice. Carter joined in the conversation, speaking almost as rapidly as Daniel.

"Great..." O'Neill said to himself. "They both just switched to scientist mode."

"Jack...." Daniel called from in front of him. "Jack you have to see this..."

Yeah, yeah, O'Neill thought. "See what, Daniel?"

"Hieroglyphs, Jack. Egyptian."

Alarms went off in O'Neill's head. "I thought you said this culture wasn't based on anything Egyptian?"

"The 'culture' isn't," Daniel said quickly. "But this structure, temple, or whatever, is. Aiman says his people discovered it centuries ago, but rarely come here because it was thought to be an ancient burial ground. Their beliefs forbid them from disturbing the resting places of the dead."

"Well, maybe we should consider doing the same..."

"Jack, you don't understand. There's a Goa'uld sarcophagus..."

****

Colonel Jack O'Neill snapped into a defensive posture the instant he heard the word Goa'uld. His weapon was reflexively brought to the ready, and his entire frame tensed as muscles subconsciously prepared for battle, his eyes shifting quickly, evaluating the surrounding enclosure, even as his mind calculated the best defense of the area. Daniel Jackson had seen it happen often enough that he could almost predict the subtle progression of body moves that signaled the shift in O'Neill's mind set. It happened as predictably as the sunrise every time Daniel expressed an interest in any artifact not directly related to the current mission, as though O'Neill expected him to be the direct cause of trouble. Over the past several months, Daniel had learned Jack's reaction was not meant to malign him personally. Though Jack's attitude toward his vocation was tinged with cynicism, the man was actually defending him. Still, he thought O'Neill reacted too often as the soldier, not often enough as the statesman and certainly never as the scientists he professed to abhor.

Daniel's response to O'Neill's change in bearing was equally predictable. The archeologist's hand flew up, palms out, as he placed himself in between the colonel and the sarcophogus. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, Jack....I don't think there's anything left alive in here."

"You, of all people, should know better, Daniel."

O'Neill shouldered his way past the younger man, gun leveled at the sarcophagus. The top of the sarcophagus was slightly ajar, a cluster of mushroomlike fungi perched comically on the edge of the opening. He did not check to see if anyone, or anything was inside. Instead he fired a short burst into the opening. The chamber was filling with the staccato report of gunfire and the zinging sound of bullets ricocheting inside the hard metal shell of the Goa'uld apparatus.

"Jack!" Even as he protested, Daniel instinctively ducked behind an intricately carved pillar. When he realized O'Neill was no longer shooting, he jumped up, encompassing the room and the sarcophagus with a wide sweeping gesture. "Geez, Jack...there is no one alive in there."

"Right," O'Neill said. "I knew that. I was just making sure. I hate surprises."

Daniel's only response was to throw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"Colonel," Carter said, emerging from a niche along the far wall. "I'm not so sure there is even a viable energy source to power the sarcophagus." She went down on one knee to examine the equipment more closely.

"So," O'Neill asked, not relaxing his hold on his weapon. "What is a Goa'uld sarcophagus doing inside a cave?"

"I am not sure this is simply a cave." Teal'c added.

Aiman, who had taken cover behind an ornately carved column when O'Neill had started shooting, emerged cautiously. Daniel fired a quick question at the young man in his native tongue and Aiman answered breathlessly and at length.

"Aiman says that even though this place is off limits, most of the young boys of the village have come up here at some time and explored. It's sort of a rite of passage in the village that the elders pretend doesn't happen. Aiman says he has been through several of the passages that lead away from here. The corridors are quite extensive. He said they are all lined with similar symbols, but there has never been any sign of human remains. Jack, I think we have more here than just a sarcophagus...."

"I concur," Teal'c said.

"Jack, I think we may have found a downed Goa'uld ship."

"You're jumping to a big conclusion, Danny boy," O'Neill said.

"He may be right, Colonel." Carter stood up, dusting her hands on her pant legs, then leaned over to peer into the open sarcophagus. "We should at least take a look."

"Yes," Daniel added, "If this is an abandoned Goa'uld ship..."

"The three bears are gonna come home and be real upset if they find we've been messing with the porridge." O'Neill finished for him.

"If this *is* an abandoned Goa'uld ship..." Daniel picked up where he had been interrupted. "it may be our best opportunity to study their technology. Jack, we may never get another chance like this."

"I do not believe the Goa'uld will be returning for this vessel, O'Neill," Teal'c said moving off to one side to study the inscriptions on the wall behind Daniel. "This ship is far too old."

"I think Teal'c is right, Jack." Daniel grabbed a handful of cobwebs, moss and lichens, stripping them off the wall to reveal the surface beneath. "I need time to study this more thoroughly, but judging from the amount of natural debris, dirt and vegetative material that has totally buried this site, plus the fact that this script is essentially Egyptian, but with subtle differences, I think this ship may actually pre-date Ra's time on Earth. If that is the case, this structure will give us some insight into the Goa'uld society prior to human influence. This also proves that the typically 'Egyptian' trappings we associate with them did not originate on earth." As direct, irrefutable proof of his cross pollination theories, Daniel was eager to document the site even if he never had the opportunity to share his finding with the skeptical archeological community that had scoffed at his ideas.

"And the owner of this ship?" O'Neill asked suspiciously.

"I doubt he could have survived all these centuries without a functioning sarcophagus." Carter concluded. "And from the looks of this one, it hasn't functioned in a while. Besides," she moved away from the partially opened lid. "I think it may have malfunctioned with its owner still in it, judging from the skeletal remains inside."

****

Looking around the hall filled from wall to wall with people, O'Neill stifled another yawn. After reporting to SGC of their potential find, Daniel and Sam had been given the go-ahead to study the 'temple' in greater detail. Fazil had convinced the Council of Elders to allow the study, on the condition that Daniel and Carter head the initial investigation. Not wanting to remain inactive for an indefinite period of time, O'Neill had protested the arrangement privately to his SG-1 teammates and to General Hammond, but Hammond was determined to work 'with the locals on this one.' In the end, Hammond had his way, much to the delight of the two scientists, who were to remain until a permanent research team could be assembled, which couldn't happen too soon for O'Neill. Between initial cultural studies of the native population, and the discovery of the Goa'uld ship, Daniel was in archeological heaven. Unfortunately, the colonel was left with a lot of time on his hands and very little to do, except, attend the village feast, every evening.

"Think of it as much needed R and R," had been Hammond's final verdict on the subject.

Now, O'Neill couldn't gripe about the food, it was a hell of a lot better than a four day diet of MRE's, and the entertainment certainly was worth a listen. After getting over his initial reticence about Carter's gender and her position as both a scholar and a soldier, Fazil had apparently fallen deeply under the captain's spell. Fazil had proven to be as adept at language as Daniel and was soon communicating adequately in English. He and Carter had discussed every topic imaginable from a woman's place in society, O'Neill had to agree that Carter won that round, to strengthening the defenses of the village against attacks by the semi-nomadic hill people who sent raiding parties into the valleys each spring. O'Neill made a conscious effort to focus on the current topic of debate as Carter's voice rose slightly.

"We really don't think of him that way at all." she protested.

O'Neill could hear an unfriendly edge to the captain's voice. Fazil had evidently said something that had gotten her hackles up. This could be very interesting, he thought, leaning closer to catch the conversation.

"But it is obvious to any one who looks that he is no warrior." Fazil spoke with the conviction of a leader of warriors, someone who had trained all his life to perfect his ability to defend himself and his people.

"Why?"

"Watch how he moves. How he interacts with those around him. He touches, shares, talks, smiles, shuffles what he has in his hands, and blushes with some regularity. He is completely open to the people allowing them to approach too close for adequate defense" Fazil related the list like a litany. "The people have no fear of him. A warrior must instill awe and fear."

There was no outward contempt in Fazil's observation, it was simply an observation, yet Carter seemed to take exception to the statement. "Even in his own people."

"Respectful fear," Fazil amended his statement, nodding towards Daniel. "Instead the people flock around him, bringing him gifts, touching, laughing. This is no warrior. This is a fragile link in an otherwise strong chain. An army is only as strong as its weakest link. One day you and your comrades will pay for his weakness. It won't be something he does consciously, it will happen because he is what he is. Everywhere you go and everything you do you three must defend him."

"No, we don't. Daniel may not be a warrior, but he is not weak. He is a scholar. His strengths are different, but no less than ours. And our greatest strength is in working together as a team."

O'Neill heard a familiar hint of pride in Carter's voice. She was always quick to defend Daniel, perhaps because, like him, she had a inquisitive, scientist's mind, and understood his fascination with things unknown, and questions unexplored. The difference between the two lying in the fact that Carter had tempered her scientific curiosity with a soldier's discipline. The two shared the same passion for knowledge, and Sam Carter was not going to let anyone denigrate Daniel's character, abilities or interests. 'Mother hen,' O'Neill thought to himself with an inward smile. Sometimes, she acted just like a mother hen. Other times...differently.

"I am only telling you what I see." Fazil reached out and placed a hand on Carter's arm, patting her sleeve in a placating manner. "I do not intend to anger you, simply to warn, because I would not want to see our new found friends harmed in any way. Our village is at peace now, but danger can come from the hill tribes quickly and forcefully. You may not think about what you are doing, but you, O'Neill and Teal'c do protect your friend. You always place yourselves between Daniel Jack'son and what you perceive as danger. Even in the short time I have known you, I have seen you do this." Fazil shook his head. "I am sorry, Samantha Carter. You do not agree with me, but you may find to your sadness one day that I am right. Jack'son is your weakest link."

"Weak link...broken link...missing link for all I care," O'Neill mumbled sarcastically to himself. "All I really want to know is what is it about the guy that draws pretty girls like iron filings to a magnet?"

O'Neill heard Carter chuckle, or was it a giggle. He turned to pin her with as stern a 'commander's' look as he could muster. She was *not* supposed to have overheard that remark. "Well?"

Carter shook her head. "To answer your question with a question, have you *looked* at Daniel, Colonel?"

"I don't look at other men *that* way, Captain. Have you? Looked I mean."

It was Carter's turn to blush. It seemed to be SG-1's day for blushing. O'Neill took a certain perverse pleasure in her discomfort. He had no problem with his team's interests in the opposite sex when off duty and as long as it did not interfere with their mission or their ability to function as a unit, but directing that interest towards a team member, while on duty, was 'unprofessional' and in some cases against regulations.

"Of course, I've looked, Colonel." Carter proceeded to look him straight in the eye and, with unflinching candor, continued. "The same way I'm sure you checked out my physical attributes the first time you saw me, and then again when you realized I was going to be a part of your team."

O'Neill resisted the urge to acknowledge *that* part of her statement. "And?" he asked trying to divert the conversation back to Daniel, who was not within hearing range to defend himself.

"And..." Carter continued, "Daniel is a very attractive young man, but beyond his good looks, he shows a genuine interest in people. He talks to them as individuals and listens to what they have to say....well...most of the time anyway."

'Its the rest of the time that concerns me,' O'Neill thought, 'when he's so absorbed in whatever academia happens to have captured his attention, that he forgets the rest of the world exists.'

"You have to admit, there are still times when he acts like a geek," O'Neill mumbled to himself.

Carter rolled her eyes and shook her head. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a bit jealous, Colonel O'Neill."

As she finished O'Neill's attention was drawn back to where Daniel had been sitting. Two of the young women he had been conversing with had pulled him to his feet and were urging him towards the door. The young archeologist hung back, apparently resisting their invitation. The girls giggled, taking his parka from where it was hung by the door, and helping him into it even as he protested. After a moment of hesitation, he disappeared out into the darkness with his female escort.

"Now I can just imagine where they're going?" O'Neill said to Carter.

"To Daniel's quarters, perhaps?" Carter offered, but her tone sounded skeptical.

More than likely, Daniel and the ladies would end up in the tent the archeologist used as a makeshift laboratory, O'Neill thought as he stifled another yawn. He leaned toward their host who had listened with quiet curiosity during his exchange with Captain Carter. "If you'll excuse me, Fazil, I think I am going to retire for the evening."

Fazil held up one hand. "Before you leave, let us share our customary glass of wine."

O'Neill sank back down into the cushions. One more glass of wine couldn't hurt. One of Fazil's servants brought a flask of dark, sweet, red wine and filled their three cups, then he, Carter and Fazil drank a toast to the evening. O'Neill drank cautiously having found after his first indulgence with this particular brew a bit of a shock. The wine went down smoothly, but packed one hell of a punch in the morning. That duty done, he rose and left the hall, leaving Carter in deep conversation with their host.

****

"My case in point" Fazil had leaned over to speak softly into Carter's ear after O'Neill has left the central hall.

"What point?"

"Young Jack'son."

"You are still trying to convince me that he is the weak link in our team." Carter found herself suppressing a smile. Okay, she had to admit to herself, there had been more than one time when she had found herself covering Daniel's backside in a fire fight. Given a choice the archeologist would rather talk his way out of trouble than fight, but she also knew he would do his best to defend his teammates.

"You both rush to defend him. Even when the only weapon is words." Fazil leaned back on the cushions surrounding him, gesturing with his wine glass in the direction Daniel had left.

Carter shook her head in exasperation knowing that this was an argument destined not to be won. 'Better to let the whole thing drop', she thought, besides, she was suddenly very tired. Retiring to her cottage sounded like a very good idea.

****

Jack O'Neill dragged himself towards awareness through a haze as thick as ice fog on a sub-zero night in Fairbanks. With effort he forced himself to wake up, but felt as though he was battling a drugged stupor, or one too many beers. Wine, he thought miserably. In this case it was the damned ceremonial wine. The well trained special ops officer in his head was giving him thirteen kinds of hell for not coming to a state of alert readiness at the snap of his fingers. This was wrong, he knew. He was not the type to struggle to wakefulness, particularly not when he was actively on assignment. Even a boring, feasting, drinking assignment, he thought. He forced his eyes open, pulled down the furs the natives had provided for sleeping, and gasped at the chill in the air. His breath forming a frosty cloud before his face. The sudden cold shock made him more alert though he still felt sluggish. He sat up, shivered as the icy air struck his still warm skin. Gooseflesh prickled the surface of his body as he came to his feet, groping for the shirt he had removed the night before. The fire in the fire pit had faded to embers, and the muted glow from the window told him it was far later than he had intended on sleeping.

Shaking his head to clear the last remnants of sleep, he walked to the wash bowl near the window. Cracking the ice that had formed on its surface, he plunged his hands into the cold water then splashed his face. Fully awake now, he became aware of the noise that had awakened him. There was a commotion in the courtyard beyond the door to his borrowed quarters. The voices were muffled, but obviously distressed. Quickly lacing his boots, he was pulling on his parka when a woman's anguished cry rent the air. Grabbing his weapon he plunged out into the cold winter morning and into the midst of a frantic crowd.

Fazil's tall figure could be seen approaching from the opposite side of the courtyard, his robes swirling about him in the sharp gusts of wind that were rising from the north. The villagers were clustered around a small donkey cart. One of the women continued to wail shrilly, tearing at her hair and throwing herself on the cart. As O'Neill began to push through the crowd he could sense anger building in the onlookers. He was almost to the front of the crowd when he saw Carter and Teal'c emerge from their respective quarters. Carter looked as befuddled as he had felt a few moments before, and even Teal'c looked somehow disoriented. The crowd parted to let Fazil pass and he and O'Neill reached the donkey cart at the same instant. O'Neill looked over the side of the crude wooden wagon and felt the bile rise up in his throat.

What lay in the bottom of the cart had been a lovely young girl last night. She was still lovely, as long as he didn't look past her eyes. In death, her brown eyes were wide, staring, framed with dark lashes. O'Neill swallowed hard and forced himself control his emotional reaction and assess the situation. The girl's throat had been slit from ear to ear, the gash surgically clean and precise. The clothing on her upper torso was torn and stained. Someone had attempted to re-arrange the remains of her tunic to discreetly cover her body, but the intent of the damage was obvious. Fazil had approached the side of the wagon at the same time as O'Neill, and he now reached forward to remove the covering from the girls lower body. As he did, O'Neill saw some of the color drain from the older man's face. The muscles in his jaw worked and rage slowly suffused his dark eyes. He looked at O'Neill then silently nodded his permission. O'Neill, in turn, raised the blanket that concealed the girl, and wished he had not. She was naked from the waist down, blood dried on her abdomen and thighs She had quite probably been raped, then with the same cold efficiency as her neck had been slit, she had been neatly eviscerated. O'Neill dropped the blanket and looked once more at the girl's face. She had been lovely. He wondered absently what her name was. Daniel would know. She had been among the women with who had talked to the young archeologist with such unabashed joy and enthusiasm the night before.

Daniel would know. O'Neill looked up from the wagon and quickly scanned the faces in the crowd around them. Most of the village must be present, but he did not find the face he was looking for. Daniel was no where to be seen. Catching Carter's attention at the edge of the crowd, he mouthed the question, "Where's Daniel?" He watched as Carter also scanned the crowd, then turned and ran to Daniel's cabin. She ducked through the door, then came out again shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.

With a sick, sinking feeling, O'Neill turned back to Fazil, meeting the man's angry gaze. "One of our people may be missing. Daniel Jackson." he said to Fazil.

"He left the feast with Rayma last night," Fazil said coldly, obviously ahead of O'Neill.

"If this is Rayma, yes," O'Neill admitted. "And another woman."

"Her cousin, Shazdal."

"Daniel and Shazdal may also be in danger," O'Neill said, measuring Fazil's reaction. Did the man think, even for a minute, that Daniel might have been responsible for what had happened to Rayma?

Fazil spoke quickly to the people assembled near the wagon. O'Neill did not understand the question, but the villagers shook their heads negatively. Fazil turned back to O'Neill. "Shazdal is in the dwelling of her parents, and has been since returning there late last night. No one has seen Daniel Jack'son since he and Rayma left the feast last night. Shazdal said she left them together in Jack'son's lodge."

One of the men near the head of the cart stepped forward and began to talk to Fazil. His voice was angry and he brandished something in the taller man's direction, then handed the item to him. Fazil stared grimly at what he now held before passing it to O'Neill. "Do you recognize this, O'Neill."

O'Neill took the scrap of cloth staring at it in stunned silence.

"I am told this was found clutched in Rayma's hand," Fazil said. "It belongs to your Jack'son?"

O'Neill nodded. In his hand he held the shoulder patch from an SG-1 field jacket. It had to be Daniel's, but it was just too damn convenient, too circumstantial. "This doesn't prove anything, Fazil. Except that Daniel might have been present when Rayma was murdered. He might also be dead. We won't know a thing until we find him." O'Neill expected an argument, accusations, and anger. Instead he was faced with a wall of cold, silent rage.

Fazil nodded slowly. "My people are outraged by this act. Your Daniel Jack'son was the last man seen with Rayma. You must understand their suspicion."

"We need to talk. Alone," O'Neill said. The snow had begun to fall. Fat flakes whipped before a strong wind. If this weather continued or worsened, any evidence left by the perpetrators would quickly be obscured. "And we need to do it now."

"In the central hall," Fazil answered "Rayma's family will demand retribution. We must be prepared to answer their accusations and questions. Follow me."

O'Neill turned to where Carter and Teal'c still stood, signaling them to meet him at the edge of the crowd. They joined him and as he followed Fazil, he quickly filled them in on what they had missed.

****

Jack O'Neill stood across the room from the tall, silent Fazil. He did not like the grim expression that creased the man's face.

"Do you have an explanation?" Fazil asked, his voice firm, but not accusatory.

O'Neill glanced at Carter and Teal'c who remained near the door, stationed on either side as if standing guard. Teal'c shook his head slightly, and Carter shrugged, indicating that neither had a clue to what had occurred the night before.

"You saw him leave the hall last night, with Rayma and Shazdal?" Fazil asked.

"Yes," O'Neill conceded, "but that fact alone doesn't make Daniel guilty of anything."

"He may have been the last to see her alive." Fazil turned his back to O'Neill long enough to stir the smoldering logs in the fire pit to new life. He stood for a moment, staring at the dancing flame. "I do not wish to accuse Daniel Jack'son, but my people have seen him repeatedly with Rayma, and have seen the scrap of cloth that once belonged to your young friend, clutched in her dead fingers. It will be difficult to convince them that he is not responsible in some way."

Expecting resistance from the elder, O'Neill had been prepared to argue Daniel's honor with his last breath. He was surprised to realize that Fazil was not accusing Daniel, but merely relaying the fears of his people. And, O'Neill had to admit that based on circumstantial evidence, Daniel was the logical suspect.

"The quickest way to convince Rayma's family Daniel's not guilty is to find him," O'Neill insisted taking a step closer to Fazil. "He may be as much a victim as Rayma. We won't know until we know what happened to him. The snow's flying," O'Neill said, nodding toward the window. "We need to move now."

Fazil nodded slowly. "I will be ready to accompany you. But I must console my people before I leave, and assure them that justice will be served."

****

Teal'c moved forward with more confidence than O'Neill felt. Less than thirty minutes after Rayma's remains had been brought to the square by her distraught family, they had left the village in the direction of the buried Goa'uld ship. Following the trail of the donkey cart out of the village, they had entered the wooded hills rising behind the town . Knowing Daniel, he had probably had some brilliant insight he wanted to corroborate with evidence from the site, and had headed out after dark to do so, with Rayma as company. It was not unusual for him to work through the night, oblivious to the need for sleep. Although O'Neill teased Daniel about having a 'girl on every planet' in the galaxy, he didn't believe the archeologist's motives had been anything less than academic as far as Rayma was concerned.

Within the outer fringe of trees which marked the beginning of the forest, the cart tracks stopped. Snow had begun to filter through the trees, partially obscuring the floor of the forest, but it was obvious to even a casual observer that something violent had happened here. The dried grasses were trampled into the ground, and darkly stained with what could only be blood. As the pristine snowflakes fell on the discolored earth, their edges soaked the color from the ground tingeing them pink. Tattered scraps of fabric, the remains of Rayma's clothing lay on the ground and snagged by a nearby thorn bush. O'Neill had witnessed violence in many forms over the course of his career, but violence directed towards innocents always sickened him. Perhaps, he thought absently, that was why he was so quick to jump to Daniel's defense. Despite all he had experienced, Daniel managed to maintain a certain innocent wonder and curiosity about the world, which at times was damned near childlike and, at other times, damned annoying and dangerous.

It was obvious, even to an unskilled observer, that this was where Rayma had been attacked and killed, but there was no visible sign of Daniel Jackson. And, to O'Neill's eye, no indication of where he might be. But O'Neill was not Teal'c and did not have his particular ability to track the seemingly untraceable.

"At least four adult men where at this place," Teal'c announced after conferring with Fazil.

"Some were probably the men from the village who found Rayma's body," Fazil added.

O'Neill nodded waiting for them to continue.

"It is difficult to determine what might have happened to Daniel Jack'son," Fazil continued.

"But it appears someone left in the direction of the temple, and they were bearing a heavy load." Teal'c had hefted his staff weapon, prepared to continue. His face was, if possible, more grim than usual.

"A body sized 'heavy load'?" Carter asked.

"That would be my assumption," Teal'c affirmed. He knelt and indicated a faint impression in the litter on the floor of the forest. "The ground is frozen, so the average man does not leave an easily detectable footprint, but here in the leaf debris, there is the indication of one. This would have to be made by a very heavy person."

"Or a person carrying extra weight." O'Neill could see the indentation in the rotting leaves now, but not before Teal'c had pointed it out.

"There is no indication that anyone was dragged from the area," Fazil added, "So if Daniel Jack'son was present when Rayma was attacked, he either walked away or was carried away."

"Back toward the temple?" Carter asked again.

Teal'c nodded.

"Then let's move," O'Neill commanded

Snow had begun to swirl about them, threatening to obscure any remaining evidence, and yet the Jaffa continued as though oblivious to it. Although past experience had taught O'Neill that Teal'c was an excellent tracker, it would take more than tracking skills to find Daniel if the snow continued to fall at this rate.

****

Pulling his heavy cloak more tightly around his body, Fazil fell into step behind Teal'c and beside Carter.

"He is a liability," Fazil said matter of factly.

"A liability?" Carter echoed the word, hearing the subdued irritation in her own tone. Carter was too good a soldier to allow her emotions to overrule her good sense, and she knew Hammond valued peaceful relations with Fazil and his people. Her superior officers trusted her to temper her comments with good judgment and she had made an effort to do so, but she was growing tired of this line of thinking. As the only female member of too many all male military teams, Carter knew what it meant to be labeled the weak link. She had seen her male counterparts do to her what Fazil accused them, now, of doing for Daniel. On many assignments prior to her attachment to the SGC, 'the Guys', whether they realized it or not, had 'protected' her, even when it was not necessary, and that had always galled her. She had taken measures to quickly establish her place with SG-1 and no one questioned her ability to care for herself and carry her weight when defense became a priority. Its seemed, she might have Daniel to thank for her quick acceptance as a soldier by the Stargate hierarchy. Daniel's presence on SG-1, as a untrained civilian, had taken the focus off her, as a woman.

Fazil nodded, then leaned towards Carter, matching his longer stride to her slightly shorter one, something her comrades had learned not to do over the past year. "I am sorry if the thought offends you, Samantha Carter, I mean no offense. I am concerned for your safety and that of your team. You are my responsibility while you are guest in my village. I wish no harm to come to any of you, but the fact that you three are here, searching, proves my point."

"We would be out here searching regardless of which of us was missing," Carter said, keeping her voice level and emotionless.

"This could be a well laid trap and he could be the bait," Fazil continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"And who would be laying that trap," Carter asked edgily.

"I have enemies." Fazil said simply.

"You didn't mention this before," Carter shifted, unconsciously getting a better grip on her weapon as her eyes roamed the terrain. "We might have taken different precautions, if you'd indicated there was danger. Your actions led us to believe we were secure, and that you were at peace."

"I am sorry if I led you to believe that. I honestly thought you would be safe while in my jurisdiction. I am as shocked and horrified by this turn of events as are you. I know my people want to believe your friend guilty of Rayma's murder, but I know in my heart he is innocent. He too is a victim. When I mentioned my concerns about your friend Jack'son last evening, you seemed reluctant to follow up on my warning."

"It didn't sound like a warning last night," Carter continued, picking up her pace as Teal'c began to move more quickly.

"Perhaps it was not meant to be at the time. But I have enemies," Fazil repeated. "We have been at war with the hill tribes for centuries, and while they normally do not venture into the valleys in the winter, there is always the possibility. They may have heard of your arrival here and emerged from their winter seclusion out of curiosity. The activity around ancient temple may have drawn them out, or, the ancients forbid it, they may have spies in our village who reported your presence. Perhaps, my rival chieftains saw potential in having contact with strangers who possess weapons such as yours. Jack'son may have been abducted simply because my enemy wants a captive stranger of his own. He may hope your friend can reveal the secrets of the temple, or he may be using Jack'son as bait for a bigger catch. In any case, Jack'son is a liability." Fazil's voice had grown harder as he spoke, the open friendliness of last evening vanishing to be replaced by the cold, calculation of a man at war. In her heart Carter had to admit that Fazil was probably right.

"But what of Rayma?" Carter asked. "She was just an innocent bystander. Who would have murdered her so brutally?"

"It is the way of the hill tribes. They are far more barbaric that we."

Carter could hear the contempt in Fazil's voice now, and see it in his face. This was a centuries old anger. How could she have misjudged their host so badly?

"Such violence is common among them. They have little respect for life, the lives of my people in particular. Cruelty is their nature."

"And Daniel? If he is their captive?" Carter's throat was so dry the question came out in a choked whisper.

"How long he lives depends on how long they wish him to stay alive," Fazil said cryptically. "And while he lives...." Fazil shrugged. "The hill tribes take particular pleasure in humiliating their captives. Almost as much pleasure as they derive from causing pain. And they are rarely in a hurry to complete the task. You saw the fashion in which Rayma was murdered." The statement was made matter of factly, as though Fazil and his people had lived with the knowledge for so long that it was accepted simply as fact.

****

The rest of their journey was completed in silence. Carter appeared to lose her interest in conversation with Fazil. There were no more questions to ask. What he intimated would happen to Daniel, what they saw had happened to Rayma, instilled them all with a new sense of urgency. Without verbally making the decision they had picked up their pace, following Teal'c's unhesitating lead through the falling snow towards the ancient temple. As they approached the outer boundaries of the temple hill, the Jaffa slowed, and O'Neill assumed the lead position, motioning them to keep low and quiet. Slipping from tree to tree, using the existing shrubbery and falling snow as cover to obscure their movements, they came within visual range of the temple entrance.

O'Neill was not surprised to find the entrance guarded. Two figures stood ramrod straight on either side of the dark hole that marked the mouth of the underground labyrinth. Through the swirling snow he could see that their dress, while similar to the town's people, varied in enough ways to mark them as a different cultural group. 'Cultural group,' he thought to himself, 'you're starting to think like Daniel.'

Glancing at Fazil, O'Neill saw him nod, as though acknowledging the guards were hill tribesmen as he had suspected. To attempt to enter here by stealth would probably be impossible, to enter by force would be suicide. He motioned for his people to withdraw a reasonable distance.

"All right, People," O'Neill said quietly. "I think its safe to assume that this entrance will be heavily guarded inside as well. Without adequate reconnaissance we could be slamming our heads against the wall attempting to gain access this way."

Carter and Teal'c waited silently for his decision. He knew they would storm the temple single handedly if he gave the order.

After a momentary pause he added, "Every rabbit warren has a back door. Fazil, we know the temple was off limits to your people. We also know that the boys of the village come up here to check out the ruins. Are you aware of any entrance other than this one?"

For a moment Fazil's look darkened. He shook his head, "None that I am aware of."

"Teal'c," O'Neill addressed the Jaffa, "Assuming the lay out of this 'pyramid ship' is similar to those you served on, can you estimate where we might find another entrance to the outside of the vessel."

If Fazil had looked concerned, Teal'c's expression was positively grim. "I can only guess, O'Neill. By traveling the perimeter of this 'hill' we may eventually find a second opening. But any opening that once existed may be covered in millennia of rubble."

"It's all we got," O'Neill said. "If we don't find an opening, we'll have to go in the front door. But I don't want to attempt that until nightfall gives us some protection." 'And I don't want to wait until nightfall,' he added silently to himself. He had no intention of leaving Daniel in the hands of these barbarians any longer than he could help.

Silently, following Teal'c's lead, they worked their way through the woods until they were at a point several hundred feet from the original cave entrance, and at roughly at the same level. Painstakingly they began to work their way around the base of the hill, investigating each outcrop of rock, every depression, hollow or growth of scrub brush that might potentially yield an entryway.

The snow gradually tapered to flurries, but at the same time the temperature plummeted. It was frustratingly cold, tedious work, and as the feeble winter sun passed its zenith and began to descend towards evening, O'Neill was beginning to believe situation was hopeless and a direct approach would be their only recourse. They would soon have circumnavigated the perimeter of the hill. He was about to call a halt to their futile search when Teal'c's staff weapon, jammed into a shadowy recess between two scrubby bushes, struck a hard surface with a resoundingly unnatural clang.

Scrabbling to pull away the shrubbery their efforts were finally rewarded. They had found their back door, partially buried in dirt, but an entrance none-the-less. It looked as though it had not been used in recent memory, but was new enough to be serviceable if they did some digging. Unstrapping a field shovel from his pack, O'Neill began to dig, while Carter covered his back. Taking turns over the next two hours, they unearthed the hatchway and with some creative cursing on O'Neill's part, finally jimmied the door open. The entry itself and several feet of corridor behind it were clogged with debris and dirt, but after working past that blockage the passageway seemed to be open. The sun now rested on the lip of the horizon, and darkness would soon be upon them.

Stepping inside the dark companionway, O'Neill gave silent thanks for their incredible luck. There were no lights, but the air was surprisingly fresh, though musty with the growth of mildew and damp soil. And it was much warmer than the insulation from the surrounding earth would account for.

"It feels as though there is still air and heat circulating in this part of the ship," Carter observed. "Which means there must still be some power source and machinery functioning somewhere."

"After all the centuries," Fazil sounded awed.

O'Neill was not surprised to see the man bow his head respectfully, as though offering a silent prayer to his 'ancients'. 'You'd better pray we get out of this one, intact, with Daniel,' O'Neill thought.

"If Daniel is here, how are we going to find him, sir?" Carter asked, breaking the reverent silence. "Its a big ship."

"If he is being held in confinement, the detention area would be located on the lowest levels," Teal'c announced matter of factly.

"And we had determined that the sarcophagus room was midway down the pyramid, sir," Carter added. "We are on about the same level as that. But we have no way of knowing how much of the ship is still intact. Our analysis of the layout had barely scratched the surface."

"We'll just have to take a chance." O'Neill nodded at Teal'c to take point.

Moving in the subdued light of hand held flashlights, they began to work their way along the blackened corridors. The yellow slash of their lights cut the darkness, revealing bulkheads covered with inscriptions of meticulous complexity. 'That much hadn't changed,' O'Neill thought, remembering the numerous hieroglyphs that bedecked the interior of Apophis ship. Daniel had said afterward that while much of the work was purely decorative, it also told stories and chronicled the history of the vessel's owner. Daniel would want to decipher them all, O'Neill thought, curious to know whose vessel this had been.

The silence that pervaded the vast ship was eerily unnerving. The tap of their own bootheels on the steel plated floors and the hushed sound of their own breathing, occasionally punctuated by the swish of fabric, or clack of metal on metal. Teal'c worked his way along the corridor, feeling the walls as well as looking at them, until he came to an abrupt halt.

"Here, O'Neill," he said indicating a point on the wall.

"What?"

"We must go down. This is an access panel that will allow us to move through the service conduits to the lower levels, provided they are unblocked."

The Jaffa proceeded to touch several raised figures on the wall, then, when the panel did not move he gripped the edge and physically forced the covering to slide to one side. Leaning into the opening Teal'c surveyed the interior, then unhesitatingly stepped into the stygian darkness. O'Neill indicated that Carter and Fazil should follow Teal'c while he brought up the rear. They had seen no sign of living inhabitants in this portion of the ship, but if air circulating equipment was still functioning then systems in other parts of the pyramid ship might also be intact. He was not going to get caught.

O'Neill peered into the hole that yawned before him. "Sweet," he said to himself. 'Pitch black and who knows how many stories straight down.' He could see Teal'c's flashlight beam bobbing below him. Shouldering his weapon, he slowly began to descend.

They continue to work their way downward, using access crawlways and ladders to proceed from level to level. They progressed very slowly. The temperature in the conduits was noticeably colder than in the main corridor, and after several levels, O'Neill's fingers and toes were beginning to feel numb, which made hanging on to the slippery smooth metal rungs of the ladder difficult. After descending what O'Neill estimated to be fifteen to twenty decks, Teal'c stopped. O'Neill could hear the clang and grind of another door being slid aside. He felt a draft of air rising up the shaft and when he descended another twelve feet he reached the opening Teal'c had created.

"I believe this is the correct level, O'Neill," the Jaffa stated calmly.

"Perhaps, if we divided, we could investigate more quickly," Fazil suggested.

"No," O'Neill said. "I don't want to risk anyone else getting lost. If we do encounter Daniel's captors, I want this team at full strength."

Once again, Teal'c took the lead, but now they shielded their lights to minimize detection. O'Neill would have given anything for night vision goggles, but they had not brought them on this mission, so he hoped they heard the enemy before they saw them. In the mean time, he trusted Teal'c had some idea where he was going. They had progressed through a hundred yards of labyrinthine passages when Teal'c suddenly stopped. O'Neill felt Fazil turn to him, then point ahead as the Jaffa squelched his light. Carter and O'Neill quickly did the same, then waited while their eyes adjusted to the darkness. In the distance he could just make out a dim glow. As they edged cautiously nearer, the faint aura became a distinct brightness. O'Neill had moved forward to join Teal'c in the lead. Recon first, he thought, then we act. O'Neill was certain he could here sounds ahead. Then he felt Carter grab his sleeve and give it a sharp warning tug.

He turned towards her in the darkness, all senses alert. He could barely see her in the low light. she jerked her thumb over her shoulder as if to indicate something, or the lack of something.

"Fazil's gone," she said in a barely audible whisper.

"Damn" O'Neill muttered. He's probably gone off to settle some honor thing, he thought. There was little they could do about his disappearance. They had to press on and at least discover if Daniel was being held here.

O'Neill started forward just as he heard the sharp clang of metal falling on metal and rattling in their direction. Trained reactions were quicker than conscious thought as he threw himself against the wall and down away from the noise, rolling to protect as much of himself as possible. 'Grenade' his mind told him. Then secondarily he thought 'a trap.' There was no third thought. A whine so high pitched it was almost subliminal filled the air around him, and his head began to pound with the mind rattling vibration of ultrasonic sound he could feel but not hear. He wanted to cover his ears, but knew the move would be futile. He blacked out seconds after hearing the solid thunk of Teal'c's body slumping to the ground beside him.

****

Daniel drew his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and curled himself into a tighter ball, trying to conserve as much body heat at possible. He had stopped hoping to be warm and thought only of minimizing the effects of the cold. Each exhalation wreathed his face in a cold fog and his fingers and toes had been numb for hours. It was definitely winter. He could imagine the snow swirling against the tight warm houses of the village, could see the warmth of the fires inside as he stood outside the windows, shivering in the cutting wind. 'This won't do,' he thought morosely, 'think warm thoughts. Think of the *inside* of those houses.' But the image of the villagers' snug dwellings brought to mind the people themselves, and with that thought came memories of Rayma.

Burying his face in his knees he desperately tried to remember what had happened after he and Rayma had left the village. They had left the feast early, and the young girl had stayed long after she would normally have retired to her family's quarters. She had lingered behind after her cousin Shazdal had, with a sly wink, said goodnight, and she and Daniel had talked, long into the night, of legends and myths and the mysteries of her people. He had sensed that she wanted more from him than talk, but he chose to ignore her flirtation, chalking it up to her fascination with his off-world strangeness and ways. She had leaned forward several times to touch his hand or brush against his body, becoming bolder as the evening progressed. Alarm klaxons blared in his brain more than once, and he carefully avoided her advances. Finally, he suggested that he take her to her home, and she seemed so crestfallen that he was ready to rescind the suggestion. Then she had brightened and told him of a new temple chamber her brother had discovered, its walls covered with inscriptions. As she talked he realized she might be describing a map room similar to the one discovered on Abydos. But this one would be older, predating Ra's arrival on Earth. Perhaps indicating older origins of the Goa'uld or the ancients. It was not something she or her brother could have made up without prior knowledge of such a room. Though his good sense told him this should wait until morning, his enthusiasm got the better of his judgment, and he allowed Rayma to convince him he must see the room that very night.

Armed with little more than a notebook and flashlights, they set off toward the temple. The night air was sharply cold, and crystal clear, bathed in moonlight which cast a blue fairy glow on the snow dusted woods. Their steps crunched on the frozen ground, and they talked in hushed whispers, unwilling to disturb the mystical quality of the night. Shadows danced about them as they went, the ground barred with the cast images of tree trunks, reminded him of prison walls, an odd impression on such a beautiful evening. Odd, but strangely foreshadowing. Perhaps, because he was very tired, or because he was so entranced by the beauty of the moonlit woods, he never heard or saw their assailants. He remembered a muffled cry from Rayma, and turned as she was dragged from his side, then a jolt of pain assaulted every nerve in his body and he slumped to the ground. His last conscious memory was of Rayma's terrified voice begging for mercy.

When he regained consciousness, he lay in this cell. Every muscle in his body ached, and his head pounded in rhythm with his heart beat. His warm outer jacked and shirt had been removed, as had his hat and gloves. Strangely enough, his glasses remained intact, but they did little to keep him warm. The thin black T-shirt he wore was damp from the moist floor, and provided poor protection against the chill that pervaded his cavelike cell. The room itself was approximately ten feet by ten, with walls of roughly carved stone, and a hard packed earthen floor. Along the wall opposite the single door was a shallow trough and drain which was the only apparent attempt at sanitation. Heavy iron manacles circled both wrists and ankles and were attached to the wall by six foot lengths of chain. He could stand, sit or lie down and just reach the trough, but could not come close to the door. Beside him was a wooden bucket filled with water and a battered tin cup. Since he awoke he had seen no one, and received no food. He drank the water sparingly, uncertain how long it would have to last. Periodically he broke the thin layer of ice that skimmed the water's surface, afraid that if he didn't the water would turn into a solid, undrinkable, mass of ice.

Fearful of hypothermia, he had moved as much as his shackles allowed, attempting to generate body heat. But eventually he began to grow hungry and light headed. Slumped against the wall he fought sleep, unsure of whether he would awaken if he succumbed to it. He found himself cat napping more an more frequently, giving in to longer and longer periods of sleep. While awake he waited. Surely, Jack, Sam and Teal'c would come looking for him, though he had no idea where he was or who had orchestrated his kidnapping. It could be a long, long wait.

****

O'Neill crawled back to consciousness, vaguely aware that he was lying on a padded surface that creaked slightly as he moved. Prying open his eyes, he was briefly startled to find he could not see, then he quickly connected his current blindness with the moments before he blacked out. The clang he had heard in the corridor beside him was the sound of a grenade as he had suspected, but not the type he had anticipated.

"O'Neill?"

"Yeah, Teal'c."

"It was a Goa'uld device that rendered us unconscious," the Jaffa stated.

"No kidding."

"Colonel?"

"Carter?"

"I don't seem to have received as hard a hit. My vision is returning already. We seem to be in conventional jail cells. But each of us is in a separate cell. Bunk, sink, toilet...and steel bars."

"Guards?" O'Neill asked, his throat dry.

"I don't see any."

"Then we have no idea --"

"Who did this," Carter finished for him.

****

Daniel was startled from a fitful doze by the creak and groan of his cell door. He shook his head, battling the befuddled fog that seemed to enclose him in an impenetrable haze. Fatigue, hunger and cold were all beginning to take a toll on his ability to function mentally. Aware of someone or something in his cell, he peered toward the dark pit that yawned behind his cell door. Daniel blinked in the dim light attempting to focus on the shrouded figure looming before him. There was something very familiar about the shadowy silhouette, the coarse robes the color of earth, trimmed with slashes of indigo. He knew who this was, and for the first time since his incarceration he felt a surge of hope. "Fazil?" he asked tentatively.

The man dropped the hood from his face, and Daniel let out a sigh of relief. "Fazil, am I glad to see you. Are the others with you? Jack, Sam or Teal'c? Is Rayma all right? She was with me when we were attacked. I don't know what happened to her." Daniel pushed himself to his feet. The chains on his wrists rattled as he moved and he was stiff from the cold stone. "Can we get out of here? Do you have any idea where here is, or who did this?"

"The answers to your far too numerous questions are, yes."

"Just 'yes'?"

Fazil's silence was unnerving to nerves already drawn taught with uncertainty. His face was cold and expressionless, and suddenly, Daniel had an uneasy feeling about their former host. His eyes had not left Daniel's face and a smirk curled the edges of his mouth into a malevolent smile. v"Fazil?" Daniel asked again.

"Fazil in this life."

"Wha..what exactly does 'in this life' mean?"

"It means that on this world I am Fazil."

"And...." Daniel pressed for an answer though he was beginning to suspect he did not really want it.

Fazil's laugh was a low menacing sound. Slowly he unwound the turban that wrapped his head, revealing beneath it a shaven skull. Then he deliberately tore the neck of his heavy, loose robes and dropped the coarse, earth colored fabric to the cell floor. Daniel pressed back against the rough wall of his cell knowing full well he could never retreat far enough to be out of harm's way. He was captive to this new danger. Beneath the sweeping robes of a peasant elder, Fazil wore the golden raiment of an Egyptian god. Daniel licked his lips nervously. He quickly assessed the significance of this new revelation. The robes Fazil wore were similar in structure to those he had seen on Ra and Apophis, but they hinted of more ancient origins. As though they predated either of those enemies.

"You do not recognize me?" Fazil said, a touch of anger edging his question.

"Um...I, uh, recognize the basic costume, but....um...you aren't wearing anything that would identify you by name." Daniel licked his lips again. Why was his mouth suddenly so dry?

Fazil stepped closer. With one long finger he drew the outline of a cartouche on the thin fabric of Daniel's shirt front, as though claiming possession by marking him with the figure. It appeared to be a knife, the primevil symbol of death and dismemberment.

The archeologist frowned, trying to connect the mimed action with a word, a phrase or a name.

"Set?" he tentatively asked

"Very good. You may not be a warrior, but at least you can think."

Frantically Daniel's mind catalogued all he remembered of Set, and none of it was encouraging. He was known as the God of evil and darkness, the brother of Osiris and Isis. The people of ancient Egypt had considered him an abomination because of his harsh and bloody ways and was regarded as the personification of drought, darkness, and perversity and the natural opposite of all that was good and life giving in the universe. The priests of Horus declared him a god of the unclean, an enemy of all the other gods. Set was the archenemy of the sun god Ra and almost all allusions and myths refer to the battles he wages against the sun. Set was said to have murderered and dismembered his brother Osiris

"And tell me, which Set are you. Set, the brother or Set, the murderer." Daniel shot back, sudden anger and a deep sense of betrayal overcoming his initial caution.

"I will let you be the judge." Fazil's voice deepened, into the sepulcher sound of the Goa'uld, his eyes flashing briefly, before his features became fully human again. The transformation had lasted only seconds, but those seconds meant a lifetime to the young human as his deepest fears where realized.

"How long?" Daniel managed to ask, trying to keep his mind on track.

"How long have I been here? Since before Ra was cast out by the Tau'ri."

"But...the sarcophagus. We found it. Damaged. How did you survive all those years without one?" Daniel shifted slightly, moving as far from the Goa'uld as he could, testing the strength of his chains, though he knew he could not escape from them.

"Father to son," Fazil answered simply, stepping closer to his captive.

"Father to son?" Daniel swallowed dryly, trying to keep the stammer out of his voice.

"Yes. Each generation provided a new host. The leadership of these people passes from father to son on the father's death bed. It is a simple ritual conducted in privacy."

"How?"

"You ask an annoying number of questions, Tau'ri," Fazil said sharply, his voice deepening briefly.

Daniel continued to press for answers. After all, he thought, there was no escape and he had little to lose. "The young girl who accompanied me, Rayma?"

"Lovely things. Both Rayma and her cousin Shazdal. A man of any mettle would have taken them to his bed the first night. I knew you were weak, but thought you at least understood a man's needs. They were yours to take, yours to use as you pleased, but instead you played games with them. Hearing their foolish fairy tales, and looking at scraps of broken pots."

"They were just girls...."

"Old enough to be wives...and now one of them is a dead girl," Fazil interrupted. "You should have bedded her when you had the opportunity. She was...delightful, and in the end she did serve her purpose and lure you into my trap."

"You murdered Rayma?" Daniel's voice was low, barely above a whisper. He wondered when he would no longer be sickened by the cold hearted cruelty of the Goa'uld. And in the same thought hoped that would never happen.

"Murdered? Yes, but not before taking a certain pleasure in her terror. You humans, particularly young humans, generate a remarkable degree of fear. It's exciting...erotic...if you know what I mean."

Daniel's mind churned, knowing all too well what Fazil meant.

"And," Fazil added, "I managed to make it look like you were the guilty one."

Daniel closed his eyes and worked to control his breathing. The vision of Rayma dead, defiled, was not one he wished to imagine.

"And...my friends," he asked softly, fearing the answer.

"Here," Fazil answered. "So gullible. So easily duped. They honestly believed I was helping them rescue you." Moving to the stone wall opposite Daniel, he touched a hidden control and with a dull rumble, the wall moved ponderously aside. Beyond the wall, was a clear shield and beyond that, a row of cells, cages not much larger than the cell he was being held in, but clean, well lit, designed for minimum comfort. The three center cells were occupied. The occupants saw Daniel at the same time he saw them and his heart dropped. Once again he had blindly followed his interests and gotten them all in trouble. The sudden surge of guilt he felt was matched only by the shock he read on their faces.

****

Jack slammed his hand against the unyielding steel of their prison. "How the hell did we get into this," he hissed through clenched teeth. He felt, rather than saw Carter glance in Daniel's direction. "And *don't* tell me anything about weak links." He felt stupid enough for allowing himself and his team to be captured. He wasn't going to lay the blame anywhere except on himself. They had bigger problems.

"At least we know Daniel's alive, sir," Carter commented, relief evident in her voice.

Since they had regained consciousness several hours previously, they had had no contact with their captors and had no clue to their identity. O'Neill now stared at the golden figure that stood no more than three yards from him. The garments he wore were Egyptian, but the face was not. O'Neill sucked in a sudden, sharp breath, then let it out in a softly muttered curse. The richly garbed person staring at them from the opposite side of the transparent barrier was Fazil. What was going on, O'Neill thought, uncertain whether this new revelation was a good thing or not. Was Fazil masquerading as a Goa'uld to help Daniel break out? That would explain why he wasn't prisoner in one of the empty cells beside them.

Looking past Fazil, O'Neill could see that Daniel hadn't moved since the partition between them had slid open. He stood with his back against the far wall of his cell, his eyes never leaving Fazil. He was saying something but the barrier was sufficiently sound proof to muffle Daniel's voice. All O'Neill could make out was a murmur of sound. The colonel tried to make eye contact with the younger human, but Daniel looked away. Then Fazil moved between them. He had turned to face Daniel. O'Neill expected him to make some attempt to remove the chains that bound the young archeologist, but instead Fazil moved in closer. What was going on? O'Neill thought. Then Fazil shifted again, his right hand ran up Daniel's arm, across and down his chest, then slid under the young man's T-shirt, caressing his flesh as though he were a prized possession. O'Neill could see the flush of humiliation creep up the younger man's face, coloring his cheeks scarlet. 'No. No,' O'Neill thought, 'this is definitely not a good thing.'

"What the hell is going on?" O'Neill shouted at the barrier, but Fazil never acknowledged his demand.

****

Fazil seemed totally oblivious to his captive audience, so intent was he on the archeologist. Eyes roaming freely, he studied every inch of the young human, and from the lascivious grin that curled his lips upward Daniel sensed the pleasure he derived from his inspection.

"Your Captain Carter was right. You are...attractive."

When Fazil's hand slipped under Daniel's thin shirt, he tried to pull away from the unwelcome touch but there was no where to pull away to. He gritted his teeth and tried to keep the revulsion he felt from showing on his face as Fazil's hand wandered over his body coming to rest on the flat of his stomach. Daniel could feel the flush of blood creeping into his face, and he cursed his own body for revealing his distress against his wishes.

"Yes," Fazil repeated, "yes, you are fair indeed. I can almost understand Her interest in acquiring you. If for some reason She has changed her mind, I could still find a use for you." Fazil pressed his body closer to the archeologist, pinning the younger man between himself and the wall, his face inches from Daniel's. Fazil laughed softly, and when he spoke his voice was husky, and human, hiding the Goa'uld within. "My 'Egyptian' counterparts took little interest in young men, but there are worlds of our conquering where, properly trained, you would fetch a high price indeed. If Her offer isn't sufficiently inticing perhaps I will find a market for you elsewhere. "

"H..Her?" Daniel had begun to shiver, from the cold and the sudden rush of nervous adrenaline. His teeth chattered uncontrollably making it difficult to talk. The heat from Fazil's hand, still resting on his abdomen, felt like a firebrand, burning into his flesh and he tried wiggle away from the press of the Goa'uld's body. Fazil only pressed more closely.

"*Her*." Fazil chuckled softly. "She whom you know as Hathor. I may have been exiled to this forsaken place, but my spies are everywhere. They have kept me informed over the centuries. I know of Ra's fate, and Apophis' attempt to replace him as supreme lord. And I know of Her return, and Heru'ur's wars of conquest. Fate has set the wheels of change in motion. You and your teammates dropped into my hands like a gift from the heavens. I know how to use such a gift. With Ra dead and his throne in contention, you will be the prize that will buy my freedom. And if She is of a mind, you may even buy me an alliance, and a throne."

Fazil stepped back. Amused at the archeologist's discomfort, he chuckled to himself. It was a low sound, filled with a twisted malevolence that Daniel found more threatening than an charged zat gun.

"You've been in this cell long enough to smell," Fazil said, wrinkling is nose. "She will be far more inclined to meet my price if you are clean and undamaged. Though it is a pity. Damaging you would be...stimulating. As it is, I will have to content myself with simply making you, and your companions, squirm."

Fazil's hand when to his ornately jeweled armband, and he touched a lapis stud. Moments later three guards marched into the cell. They were dressed as Jaffa though Daniel doubted they harbored the Goa'uld larva that would make them true Jaffa. A fact which did not make them less threatening as they stopped a few feet from where Daniel stood. Fazil issued a curt order, in the Egyptian dialect Ra had used. The guards stepped forward, one on each side and one in front of Daniel. Fazil grinned, "Remember, Dr. Jack'son, your friends are still mine. Resist and they die. Now, I think we need to begin by getting rid of these filthy clothes."

****

"No, God damn it." O'Neill gripped the bars of his cell until his knuckles turned white and his arms quivered with exertion. He knew damn well he was not accomplishing anything except expending energy he would need later, but he could no longer contain his frustration. He had watched the silent drama playing out in front of them, unable to intervene or even communicate with Daniel. He had been angered by Fazil's too familiar handling of the young man, but now that anger paled. The guards Fazil had summoned were enormous men, larger even than Teal'c, and they dwarfed Daniel as they took up positions on either side of him. The manacles were removed from Daniel's wrists and ankles, but two of the guards now held him in a grip that looked far stronger than chains. The third guard wielded an ornate knife, and was using it to slowly, methodically, cut the clothing from the younger man's body.

"Don't just stand there, Daniel, fight back...do something...anything..." O'Neill said through teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached. O'Neill had seen Daniel close his eyes and turn his head away from the cells in which SG-1 was being held, deliberately refusing to face his teammates. O'Neill felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Do not watch, O'Neill." Teal'c had reached through the bars that separated them to break O'Neill's destructive train of thought.

O'Neill turned slightly to face Teal'c, unable to voice the overwhelming frustration he felt.

"If you watch," Teal'c continued, "you will play right into Fazil's hands"

"And if I turn away, Daniel will think we're giving up on him."

"No," Teal'c said calmly. "We are not abandoning him. It will be far easier for him if you do not watch this humiliation."

"Teal'c's right, sir," Carter added. "We need to ignore what Fazil is doing to Daniel, but we have to do it very deliberately."

"Yeah." O'Neill unable to deny the logic of their argument, forced himself to turn away from the scene unfolding in Daniel's cell. But he did more than turn away, he turned, then stood stiffly at attention. He saw Carter, then Teal'c assume the same posture. He hoped Daniel would interpret their gesture as it was intended.

****

The single expletive, voiced in ancient Egyptian, exploded with barely suppressed rage. Daniel was startled by the vehemence in Fazil's voice. He heard, rather than saw, the Goa'uld lord smash his fist into the clear partition on the far side of his cell. Daniel was shivering violently now, from the cold, and the shock of being handled like a mindless commodity. He felt the hands holding his arms tighten their grip in anticipation as Fazil whirled to face them, his hand raised to strike his helpless prisoner, his eyes glowing with unearthly rage. Then the light faded and reason reasserted itself. He dropped his hand, but continued to scowl at Daniel.

"Your friends are being difficult," Fazil said. "They do not want to play my game. Very well. If that is how they wish to do this. Uncertainty can be far more tormenting than actuality. We can feed their imaginations. And that will be far worse than witnessing your fate." Fazil stepped close enough to lay a hand on Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel flinched, but risked a glance at his friends They had turned away with their backs to him and stood at rigid attention. 'Thank you,' he thought.

Fazil nodded curtly to his guards. "Take him to my chambers. Make sure he's clean. Everything you need is there. And do not let him out of your sight. She is on her way and will soon arrive."

Inwardly, Daniel took strength in the silent mantra his mind beat out, 'Thank you, Jack. Thank you, Sam. Thank you, Teal'c.' He would survive this. He could. As long as his friends were not made to witness. It was his last thought before he was dragged from the cell.

****

Jack O'Neill reminded Samantha Carter of the tigers she had seen in the zoo. Strength, skill, cunning and anger, all contained by steel bars that left him pacing back and forth. At first she, Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c had discussed methods of escape. Gradually, the talk had led to silence, the silence to pacing. The pacing was painful to watch. The agonizing uncertainty of what could be happening to Daniel, gnawed her. Fazil's words over the past days haunted her every thought. How many times had he called Daniel weak, pointed out his perceived flaws, teased her with what ifs and maybes? How many of those suppositions had Fazil made reality.

Daniel had walked into Fazil's clutches with the open eyed innocence of a curious child, then had been dangled in front of them, the tantalizing bait used to lure the three of them into a deadly trap. They had taken the bait, and swallowed it whole, just as Fazil predicted they would. That, more than anything else than had happened in the past day, ate at her. Fazil had voiced his intentions, laid his plan on the table in front of her, and she had failed to recognize it for what it was. She had failed to acknowledge the potential danger because she was busy playing the diplomat. They had all been duped into a false sense of security by Fazil's open hospitality. She had so many questions she wanted to ask their so called host, foremost of which was who Fazil was and why was he doing this.

Hours had passed since Daniel had been dragged away by Fazil's guards, hours in which Carter had had too much time to imagine what had befallen the young archeologist. A thousand probabilities, each more horrific than the last, had run through her mind, been analyzed, then shoved back into the darkest recesses of her consciousness where such thoughts belonged. The truth was, they had no idea what might be happening to Daniel, and that was far more tormenting than knowing and watching. She wished he had not been removed from his adjoining cell. Being a captive observer, to the fashion in which Fazil handled the young man, had been frustrating but, while Daniel was there, his fate was a certainty, and concrete reality could be controlled, situations analyzed and problems solved. They had no way of knowing if Daniel was still within the 'temple' or if he had been removed to another location.

Carter squeezed her eyes shut, then made a conscious effort to relax. She had been down this mental path before, hundreds of times in the past hours. Her thoughts circled in an ever decreasing spiral of possibilities, at the vortex of which was the same vision, of Daniel dead or dying, captive of an enemy he could not fight. Damn! How had this happened?

Carter sat up on her bunk, suddenly alert. She had felt rather than heard a low vibration running through her cell. It felt like the engines in the belly of an aircraft carrier, an almost subliminal thrum, constantly in the background. She looked at O'Neill who had stopped pacing, and was also aware of the change. 'He knows what it is,' Carter thought. She could tell by he look on his face and the glance he gave Teal'c.

"Colonel," she said. "That feels like..."

"A damn big ship," O'Neill finished her thought for her.

"A pyramid ship," Teal'c added, drawing his own conclusions.

"I'd say Fazil is getting company," the colonel continued. "And something tells me it isn't gonna be the cavalry coming over the hill."

"But it might mean an opportunity to escape, sir," Carter said hopefully.

"Any change in the current situation, regardless of how small, can turn a hopeless scenario into a victorious one." O'Neill finished paraphrasing the quotation Carter had started. "Renault's Theories on Tactics."

"Yes, sir."

The rest of what she was going to say was interrupted by the rumbling of the door at the end of their cell block. As it opened, four animal headed guards marched through followed by Fazil, garbed in the full finery of an Egyptian god, from his shimmering gold skull cap to the resplendent sandals covering his feet.

"All right, Fazil, do you mind telling me what kind of game you're playing," O'Neill demanded.

"Silence, human."

"With all due respect, sir," Carter said to O'Neill, "I think its obvious that Fazil is not who he claimed to be."

"Yeah," O'Neill said, "all that 'my house is your house' stuff was a pile of crap."

"Basically, sir, yes." Carter continued to address the colonel as though Fazil were not present. "I must admit I am curious though, about who he really is and why the performance."

"You are a lovely creature, but very irritating, human." Fazil's eyes flashed briefly, as if to emphasize his words.

Carter felt her jaw tighten, and her gut twist. Goa'uld. She had suspected as much ever since she had seen Fazil in Daniel's cell. Now her suspicions were confirmed even if her questions were still unanswered.

"That explains a lot, sir. But not everything."

"And what do you wish to know?" Fazil spoke with haughty superiority, as though conveying great favor on them by simple accepting their questions.

"Why?" O'Neill asked. "Other than the fact that you're just a snake in human disguise. Why the masquerade...the village...these people, who obviously don't know the 'real' you."

Fazil's expression darkened momentarily, then his eyes began to glow and when he spoke, it was in his Goa'uld's voice. "It is a very old story. Centuries old. You, Colonel, and your people, stumbled upon my place of exile."

"Exile?" Carter asked.

"Exile." Fazil looked away for a brief moment as if his gaze were crossing the centuries. "Your Daniel Jack'son has not told you the tale of Set?"

"Not recently," Jack said sarcastically.

"Set is one of the very oldest gods," Teal'c answered solemnly. "He is said to be one of the nine original gods. But he was lost centuries ago."

"Not lost," Fazil said bitterly, "sent here. To this world of ice and peasants, to whom I could not even reveal my true nature."

Teal'c turned to O'Neill. "Legend says that Set murdered his brother Osiris. Then did battle with Horus to claim Osiris' throne. After a long and difficult war, Set conceded defeat. He was sent away in shame by the forces of Horus, sometimes called Heru'ur, a very powerful system lord."

Fazil snorted in disgust. "That is how Horus would tell the tale. I would have defeated him but for the treacherous interference of his mother Isis, who aided him at every turn. I was tricked, and sent here in exile with a crippled vessel and a malfunctioning sarcophagus. I was not expected to live beyond the life of my original host, but just to be certain, they placed a device in my body, my true Goa'uld body, that would react and detonate were I to pass through a Stargate. So I am exiled here, with no way to leave this world."

"A bomb activated by gate travel," Carter echoed Fazil's words. "Just like Cassandra."

"Old trick. You Goa'uld don't have much imagination." O'Neill's tone was deliberately antagonistic.

"But I am no fool. There is more than one way to survive. As each host body wore out, I took another. The son became the father. As rule of this village passed from one generation to the next, I passed with it. It would have remained such, until you stumbled into my lair." Fazil smiled a self satisfied smile as he said the last.

"How did you know who we were," Carter asked.

"I am not able to pass through the Stargate, but over the centuries, I gained followers, people of the hill tribes willing to be spies in return for favors. They have gone out into the worlds of the Goa'uld and been my eyes and ears. I know everything that has happened since before the destruction of Ra. You came here by accident, but I have been prepared for this. There are those among my people who would pay highly to see you dead. Others who would pay a higher price to have you alive. I allowed you to believe I was your ally while I arranged to sell you into slavery. The price of Daniel Jack'son alone will be my freedom from this wretched world. You three are just extra."

Fazil paused dramatically to allow the true meaning of his words to sink in. Who, Carter wracked her brain, would pay so highly to posses Daniel. She could think of only one. Hathor.

Before she could speak, a servant entered the long corridor leading to their cells, and cautiously approached Fazil. With eyes downcast, the man delivered a rapid message in a language Carter could not fathom, then stood as though expecting punishment for delivering unwelcome news. For a brief moment, Fazil seemed surprised, then a calculating grin tipped his thin mouth upward.

"It appears," Fazil said, "that word of what I have to offer has spread. Unexpected guests have joined us. Now we will have a true auction." He swung around and departed with no further comment.

The sound of his laughter echoing thought the corridor sent a chill down Carter's spine.

****

Four more hours passed in helpless frustration before the guards returned to remove O'Neill, Carter and Teal'c from their cells. Bound with manacles around their ankles and wrists that allowed them to move under their own power, but not fast enough to challenge their guards, they were herded into Fazil's audience chamber. O'Neill would have been impressed by the immensity of the room and the ageless beauty of its gilt walls had his attention not been drawn to the figures seated in four thronelike chairs at the far end of the room. Hathor sat immediately to Fazil's right. She nodded with intimate familiarity towards the trio of humans. To her right sat another Goa'uld O'Neill had never seen, yet who appeared to have some status in the hierarchy of the System Lords. To Fazil's left, sat a figure whose presence caused Carter to gasp in surprise. O'Neill hoped he'd controlled his surprise more effectively, and wished he could spare Daniel the added humiliation of having his 'wife' participate in what amounted to his auction into slavery.

Forced to their knees, they hit the floor. O'Neill turned to Carter and muttered, "If this keeps up, I'm gonna have to get some good knee pads when we get home." A sharp jab from the butt of a staff weapon silenced any further comment.

Fazil gloated with obvious satisfaction as they were made to kneel near the raised platform opposite the quartet of Goa'uld lords. There was a brief murmur of conversation among the four then a stir on the opposite side of the room. O'Neill turned his attention in that direction. From the shadowy corner of the chamber, emerged three figures, one slight and garbed from shoulders to feet in flowing white, the others, massive guardians who dwarfed their captive in both height and breadth, and held his arms in an iron grip. Daniel, walking between the two Jaffa, was herded onto the platform as a blindingly bright light illuminated the area. He blinked, unable to focus beyond the source of light to see into the dark shadows beyond. He can't see us, O'Neill thought. He doesn't know we're here. O'Neill released the breath he'd been holding, sizing up the situation. There were damned few options.

Daniel's guards had released him from their grip and stepped back a pace, still close enough to circumvent any escape attempts, but still allow him to stand freely. Raising one hand he shielded his eyes, but made no further move.

'This must be model preview time,' O'Neill thought. And Fazil had made sure this preview was very appealing. Daniel had obviously been scrubbed until every last speck of prison grime had been removed. His sandy hair shimmered in the intense overhead light. He had been clothed in a long, one piece garment styled like the coarse, loose robes worn by the natives in Fazil's village, except this version was made of a linen so finely woven it was almost translucent. Modest, under normal light, but hardly concealing under the harsh glare lighting the platform. O'Neill heard a murmur of approval come from Hathor's direction. All well planned for someone who, as Fazil had claimed, was improvising his scheme as he went. Daniel squinted into the darkness, sensing the presence of others, but unable to see them.

"We're over this way, Daniel," O'Neill said evenly.

"Jack!?"

"Yeah...nice outfit Danny boy." O'Neill couldn't resist. Even from this distance O'Neill could see the crimson flush spread over the archeologist's cheeks, as he absently fingered the fabric.

"Yuh...uh...yeah...Not....Not exactly what I would have picked."

O'Neill could sense a slight easing of the tension in the younger man, but his face remained deadly serious.

"I take it we're in trouble," Daniel stated matter-of-factly.

"Yup," O'Neill said, "you could say that."

"Silence!" Fazil's voice boomed in the sepulcher acoustics of the hall. "You waste our time." Fazil had stood and now moved into the light before the platform. He turned to address the three Goa'uld. "You are all aware of why you are here. I have, something of interest to you all. Something that can be yours if the proper terms are agreed to."

"There is really no need for this charade, stimulating as I find it." Hathor practically purred. "You contacted me originally. Allow him to leave with me and I will gladly grant your wishes."

"I'm sure that whatever offers are made, I can make one equally inticing." This time it was Ammonet who spoke, her voice haughty and commanding.

O'Neill saw Daniel blanch at the sound of the voice, and could see the thoughts and emotions play across his features. This was his wife, Sha're. Daniel firmly believed she was still conscious and aware of who she was. He could see Daniel take a step forward, his wife's name forming on his lips as he strained to see her in the shadowed gloom.

His words were cut off by Hathor's teasing laughter, as cold and humorless as an ice floe cracking. "Of what use is he to you?" The renegade Goa'uld queen addressed Ammonet directly. "You have your consort...such as he is," she added disparagingly.

"Perhaps our only motive is to assure that this one never becomes your mate," answered Ammonet.

The fourth figure, who had been silent until now, laughed. "Squabble if you will. My master will take this one and the other three as well."

Daniel's head snapped in the direction of the speaker, stunned as he realized what the man proposed. "N..No" He said quietly, shaking his head.

"No?" Fazil asked. "No, to what, Tau'ri?"

"No," Daniel repeated in a stronger voice. "I will not let you do this to my friends."

Fazil seemed mildly amused at Daniel's little rebellion. "You are in no position to demand anything."

"Not demand." Daniel paused. "Bargain."

O'Neill suddenly had a bad feeling he knew where Daniel was headed. "Daniel," he said, "Don't do what I think you're going to do. We'll all get out of this together."

"I don't think we're going anywhere if I *don't* do this, Jack!" Daniel's voice rose sharply.

O'Neill knew that tone. Had seen Jackson explode with passionate anger on more than one occasion.

"He is right, O'Neill," Fazil said. "You will leave this planet one of two ways. Dead. Or as a slave in the belly of a Goa'uld pyramid ship. I do not care which way you go, as long as *I* get what I want out of it."

"No," Jackson repeated. "I have a third option. An offer."

"You have nothing to bargain with."

Daniel nodded once. "Myself."

Fazil snorted laugher. "Then you place a distorted price on your own worth."

"And you don't? The price you're asking for me seems to be your freedom and an army. If you value me that highly, then I am upping the ante. My friends go back through the Stargate, free and unharmed, and I go willingly with whoever pays the highest price." Daniel's voice had leveled off as he spoke.

A cold determination hardened the young human's response, and O'Neill was both angered by Daniel's offer and proud of the courage he displayed by even considering it. 'But why be surprised,' he said to himself. 'Daniel's shown more than once that he had the backbone, you just tend to over look it.' O'Neill suddenly laughed, and Fazil spun in his direction. Anger suffused the Goa'uld's features. "Some weak link, eh, Fazil." O'Neill couldn't resist the verbal barb.

"Silence him," Fazil commanded, and from somewhere his guard produced a gag, that very effectively did the job. O'Neill almost choked, but soon forgot his discomfort as he watched the drama playing out before him. "Willing or unwilling," Fazil addressed Daniel again, "you will leave with one of these three. I do not care which as long as I get what I desire out of the bargain. Unless..." Fazil paused dramatically, stepped up onto the stage and stood in front of the younger man. Taller than Daniel, robed in the gilt finery of an Egyptian prince, Fazil embodied the twisted malevolence of the Goa'uld. He shifted so he stood mere inches from the human. "You may want to stimulate my interest in your proposal, by convincing me of your sincerity to submit without resistance." As he spoke, he brushed the back of his hand along Daniel's cheek, then gripped his face firmly under the chin, forcing the young man to look directly at him.

For a moment, Daniel held his ground, meeting the Goa'uld's blazing gaze defiantly, but when Fazil edged closer, Daniel pulled free and retreated until he was stopped by the solid wall of his two Jaffa guards. O'Neill could see him swallowing, repeatedly. His eyes closed, and for a brief instant O'Neill read fear on his features. When he opened his eyes, the fear was replaced by resolute determination. Stepping back towards Fazil, Daniel stood for a second looking his captor in the eye, then he lowered his head, and slowly sank to his knees. O'Neill saw him breath once deeply, a sigh of resignation. 'No, no, no...' O'Neill's mind beat out the words he couldn't voice. 'No, Daniel, don't. It won't do any good.' But Daniel could not hear him, and would not have responded if he had. He knelt before Fazil, head down, his long hair falling over his face, obscuring it from view. He appeared at ease, but O'Neill read tension in every line of his body. His hands, so fluidly expressive, knotted into fists and rested on his thighs.

The moment was frozen in time, burned into O'Neill's memory with searing clarity. Daniel kneeling. Fazil towering over him. In that interminably long space of time, which was in reality only minutes, the frustrated anger smoldering inside O'Neill, became a cold and vengeful rage. Fazil would pay for what he had done to Daniel and what he threatened to do, O'Neill swore he would *not* forget. Then Fazil snickered, apparently unmoved by Daniel's outward submission. Twisting his fingers into Daniel's hair, Fazil jerked his head upward. "Not good enough," he said in the resonating voice of the Goa'uld. "Not nearly good enough." He released his hold. Daniel's head fell forward and as it did his entire body seemed to crumble in defeat. O'Neill knew, Daniel realized in that moment, that nothing he said or did would sway Fazil. Gazing through lanky hair that perpetually hung in his eyes, Daniel looked in O'Neill's direction, managed a shaky, apologetic smile, and a slight shrug of his shoulders.

'God,' O'Neill thought. He hadn't felt this helpless since Charlie died.

"An interesting performance," said Hathor from her vantage point in front of the stage.

O'Neill wondered how much twisted pleasure the woman derived from Daniel's submission and how she could still manage to sound so bored.

"Shall we get on with this," Ammonet added impatiently.

"Yes", Hathor purred, "Let us do that. I am eager to taste my Chosen One's delights once again."

O'Neill saw Daniel flinch as though struck. Hathor's lascivious implication brought a hiss of disgust from Ammonet. He wasn't sure who Hathor was trying to provoke more, Daniel or his one time mate.

"All this petty bickering is becoming tedious," the unnamed male Goa'uld said languidly, "One hundred Horus guards, four Jaffa and safe passage off this planet for you is my bid for the lot of them,"

O'Neill could see a flash of anger cross Fazil's features. He was obviously insulted by such a paltry offer.

"Tell me," Hathor asked the bidder, "I understand Ammonet's interest in our Beloved. I'm sure she misses his passion...something her current lord lacks." Hathor paused dramatically to emphasis her words, and was not disappointed by Ammonet's grunt of disgust. "But what is *your* interest in these humans."

"I confess that my master does not have the same fascination with this Daniel Jackson that you and your rival appear to have. His interest is much more basic. He has heard the rumors of these upstarts and desires to rid himself of this Tau'ri nuisance before they contaminate more docile human cultures with their rebellious ways. It matters not to him if they are alive or dead. It matters not to him what power you and Fazil trade or aquire. My master will in the end prevail as Supreme Lord of the Goa'uld."

"Then hear this," Hathor said. "Together your lord and I can give Set exactly what he desires, and from that we will get what we desire. You will rid yourself of the Tau'ri and I will possess my Chosen One. We need only work together."

"I do not need to ally myself with you to achieve my goal."

"Two hundred Serpent guards. And a new queen of your choosing. The finest of my offspring." Ammonet interrupted. "For Daniel Jackson alone. Let this one have the remaining three. Leftovers suit her."

"Add a pyramid ship to my previous offer, for all four," the male stated calmly.

"Two fully armed pyramid ships, and a world to conquer with them. In orbit, now, and ready for delivery." Hathor responded, never taking her eyes off her competition.

O'Neill could see Ammonet's face twist with anger. She had obviously not planned on such a high stakes. 'Apophis probably doesn't know she's trying to buy back her host's former husband. Kinky.' O'Neill thought. 'She can't cover the bid without telling Apophis and the snakeman would never let her keep her new toy at the palace.'

"You drive a hard bargain," the male Goa'uld said flatly. Then he leaned towards Hathor and whispered something O'Neill could not hear. When he leaned away Hathor was smiling.

"Do you accept the bid?" she asked Fazil.

Fazil eyed the three, waiting until it was obvious no further bids would be offered. O'Neill could not tell if he was pleased with the offer or not, but he nodded in Hathor's direction, and she smiled. O'Neill wished he had not seen that smile, or the hungry way she licked her lips when she looked at Daniel. Daniel, had not moved throughout the bidding, sitting on his heels in stunned silence. Ammonet rose and swept from the room, her back ramrod stiff with suppressed anger. O'Neill thought for a moment Daniel would try to follow her. He pushed himself to his feet, but was immediately subdued by his two Jaffa watchdogs.

Everything began to happen in a frantic blur. O'Neill, Teal'c and Carter were dragged to their feet, and pushed to the center of the room. There was no time to even consider resistance as the metallic rings of a Goa'uld transport device appeared around them. In the span of a breadth the mechanism activated and he felt the familiar tingle of energy pulse through his body. The last thing O'Neill heard was Daniel calling out to him.

****

"Jack!!!" Daniel pulled against the hands that held him, only to find, as he had found before, that they were as immovable as stone. "No!" The bottom fell out of his world as he was spun to find himself facing his worst nightmare...alone.

Hathor stood before him, a triumphant smile on her face. "He's gone. They are all gone. Now it's just you and I." With one graceful finger she traced a line along Daniel's jaw, down his neck and chest, stopping at the bottom of the neck opening of his robe. Her long nail dug into his skin, ever so slightly.

"B...but...you bought all of us." Daniel choked on the words, his mind refusing to believe he and his friends had been so casually sold then separated.

"Actually, as much as I liked my chosen Jaffa, I can see where he could be a nuisance, so I allowed him to go with..." Hathor waved her hand in the direction of the nameless Goa'uld... "In return, he paid half what I bid for you. A good day's work, considering the price will never be paid."

"What do you mean...never paid?" This time it was Fazil who asked the question His eyes flashing.

"You don't think I would allow one of my worst enemies to go free again to share or compete for my power. All I needed was access to my Beloved. The rest was just a game, I never intended to let you win. And you, my dear Set, were so willing to play the game. Too bad you are the looser."

With a snap of her fingers, Fazil was surrounded by a ring of staff weapons, armed and ready to fire. The two Jaffa holding Daniel were dropped by weapons fire from behind. Stunned by the aftershock of the energy blast as such close proximity, Daniel staggered free for a moment before Fazil's guards were replaced with two of Hathor's. Hathor quickly moved to the open center of the room. Daniel was dragged down to stand next to her, then the pair was surrounded by a ring of armed Jaffa. As quickly as SG-1 had disappeared, transport rings materialized around them, and Daniel felt a pulse of energy as the transport activated.

"Noooo...." howled Fazil, his cry an incoherent surge of animal rage, throwing himself ineffectual against the outside of the rings. "No...no....no...."

****

End - To Be continued (I've always wanted to do that ) : )

****

© July 27, 1999 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

My thanks to my beta readers Brenda and Glenda (no, I didn't plan that), for catching the little boo boo's and pointing out the rough spots. Also, thanks to Glenda for the necessary Egyptian mythology lesson. Never let it be said that I am a speedy writer. This has taken much longer than I'd planned and its still not finished. Actually, its not the writing, its the 'word wiggling' that takes me forever. Part two will follow at my usual snails pace. *g*