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Family Feud 

The fleet that approached Chulak was the largest that had been witnessed in the star system for nearly a century. Certainly it was larger than the fleet Apophis had commanded just before his death. Sokar had been instrumental in decimating the number of ships Apophis had held. The battle between the two had seen Apophis defeated, and tortured at the hands of his enemy. The ships that had survived had immediately been taken by the victor. Even the Tau’ri were impressed by the fact that in the end, Apophis had killed Sokar, and reclaimed his fleet.

"Is there a specific place to which Apophis would have guided his ha’tak?" Vanshu asked Bra’tac, as the planet grew larger in the windows of the pel’tak.

"There is. He would have positioned his ship directly above his palace, and ringed down to the corridor just outside his throne room," Bra’tac replied. "He did this so that he could strut in front of the Jaffa and any others who might have been present."

"Then prepare for us to do so," Vanshu said.

Bra’tac nodded at Teal’c, who joined the Jaffa Master at the helm control console. It required a steady hand and the advantage of having performed the maneuver before in order to bring the ship to the ‘perfect’ elevation and location above the sprawling palace in one fluid movement.

Casey moved closer to Daniel, her hand reaching automatically for his. The gentle squeeze of his fingers helped calm her pounding heart. While her role as the consort of Apophis was for appearances only, there were still lingering memories and images from her imprisonment by Ba’al to torment her. They seemed determined to play in an endless loop in her mind. Memories that brought with them the aching loneliness and nearly debilitating fear that had been her constant companions during that time.

"It’s not real," Daniel whispered, his lips beside her ear.

She nodded her head in acknowledgement, looked up into his beautiful cerulean blue eyes, and smiled. "It’s not real," she replied.

Vanshu glanced at the couple. Bra’tac had been a fount of information regarding Casey Jackson’s abduction and enslavement. How several of the Free Jaffa who served covertly on Ba’al’s ship at that time had worried about the seer – the dark circles under her eyes…the sunken cheeks of a woman who refused to eat…the restless pacing of the corridors that left her so weary that by the end of her day she was nearly staggering with exhaustion. No doubt she was struggling with the memories of those bleak days as she now played the role of an unwilling captive. He murmured a thought to his host.

"Casey, are you all right?" Pedram asked softly.

The young seer smiled. "Hello, Pedram. I’m okay, really." Two men in the room flinched at the softly spoken words.

"We can end this right now," Daniel offered quietly.

"Indeed," Teal’c said, his response as immediate as Daniel’s.

She shook her head. "No way. We have to make certain Apophis maintains control. One of the teams will spring us…soon. And then, in a few weeks, we’ll just come back and finish Apophis off."

In spite of his worry about his Wife’s mental state, Daniel snorted with laughter. "Have it all planned out, do you?"

Green eyes met blue. "I do, as a matter of fact. So don’t screw it up."

Teal’c’s cheek twitched. "We will all attempt to prevent such an occurrence."

Pedram gave a small smile at the banter. He reached out and gently pulled Casey’s free hand into his. "Daniel is correct. If this is becoming too much-"

Casey smiled. "I’m fine. Really. I think I’m just getting a bit…tired." Tired of the damned memories floating through my brain. She had no doubt that the moment the ruse was no longer needed, when she was safe and sound back at the SGC…even better, safe in the sanctuary of her own home…she would be able to push all thoughts of those heart-breaking days back into the corner of her mind – right where they belonged.

"If I determine that your well being is in danger, I will have Apophis send you away," Vanshu said.

Her smile widened. "Thank you, that’s a lovely offer. But this mission…what we’re trying to accomplish…it’s too important to let one person’s silly anxieties derail the whole thing."

Daniel barely bit back his sigh. Once again, she framed her feelings as ‘silly’. There was nothing ‘silly’ about having to deal with memories of being a Goa’uld slave – whether it was as a prisoner bound to a metal spider’s web being tortured…or as a woman who had been stolen from her Husband’s side and held captive as the ‘Consort’ of a power-crazed System Lord.

"A very brave woman," Bra’tac said quietly.

"Indeed," Teal’c responded in kind.

Vanshu nodded, gave a smile…and determined to keep a close eye on the young Tau’ri. He would not be responsible for an emotional or mental break because of the part she was being forced to play in this masquerade.

Silence fell over the pel’tak as Bra’tac and Teal’c carefully guided the ha’tak into place. The air was filled with anticipation…and colored by a bit of uncertainty.

Casey tilted her head to one side…

"Download?" Daniel asked quietly.

"Sort of…it’s more what I can feel. Some of the emotions are so strong I can ‘hear’ them," she replied. She suddenly began to giggle, then glanced around the room. No doubt her companions would find this…intel…as amusing as she did. "The High Priest is in a snit, because he’s been running things, and now the boss is back, which will cut into his profit margin. The Jaffa who has claimed the position of First Prime is certain that he’ll keep his spot, apparently he doesn’t know that Teal’c has been ‘retrained’ by his ‘god’…I doubt he’s going to take his demotion well. And there are at least three women who are bound and determined to become 'most favored’ by Apophis. Right now they’re using every beauty regimen they know to make themselves as attractive as possible. And the lower ranking priests and priestesses are totally put out that they’re the ones having to do all the heavy lifting for the feast that’s been prepared, because the good people of Chulak are busy decorating the streets for the return of their god."

Snickers and snorts of laugher echoed around the pel’tak.

"Then there is enough…confusion…that there is little chance of our deception being noticed," Vanshu said. He smiled. "Excellent. I’m certain that Apophis’ return will keep things stirred up for at least several days."

Bra’tac chuckled. "At the very least. Any…inconsistencies…with the behavior of Apophis prior to his death and now can be dismissed as nothing more than faulty memory."

"Very helpful," Vanshu nodded. He stood, knowing every eye on the room was on him. "Before we begin the next phase of our operation, I want to thank all of you for a job well done. We have defeated the Goa’uld in a way that will prevent them from rising again, by the simple fact that if they attempt to rebuild, we will promptly destroy them. There are still threats to us…for now the greatest menace comes from Zeus and Nergal. But those are problems we will deal with later. Right now, our galaxy is on the verge of becoming free of Goa’uld domination for the first time in nearly thirteen thousand years. Because of you…and your determination to win your freedom."

The Jaffa in the room puffed with pride and well-deserved glee. "We thank you for your willingness to join our cause," Bra’tac replied.

"Oh? I thought you had joined ours," Vanshu replied, his eyes twinkling. He never would have thought that he would ever be allied with Jaffa…the warriors of the Goa’uld who had killed so many of his friends and colleagues. Yet, here he was…working side by side with Jaffa who valued and fought for their freedom as aggressively as did the Tok’ra.

Bra’tac roared with laughter. "So it would seem, so it would seem," he allowed amiably. "We must also thank the Tau’ri. They learned the secrets of their Chappa’ai, and promptly began dispatching Goa’uld wherever they found the creatures. If not for them, Jaffa would still be slaves to the Goa’uld."

"And the Tok’ra would still be hiding, and working from the shadows," Vanshu added. No one would bother to point out that the Tok’ra continued to keep the locations of their bases a secret. Whether or not agents would return to the palaces of the Goa’uld (all agents had been recalled as soon as the ‘war’ was put into motion…all were safely ‘home’, waiting for word regarding the mission,) would most certainly depend upon any attempts of those Goa’uld to rebuild their decimated fleets and armies.

"Well, as lovely as this is, we’ll save the celebration for later," Casey said, a smile tugging at her lips. "Right now we have to make a few lives absolutely miserable." She paused, then frowned. "Just not too miserable. We don’t want the High Priest to decide to off Apophis on his own. That’s our job."

Once again laughter filled the air.

"Let us begin the next phase of our final battle in the war against the Goa’uld," Vanshu said firmly, his voice quiet, and full of determination.

Rather than risk the local, loyal Jaffa from recognizing any of the rebels, and thus raising the alarm, only Vanshu, Bra’tac, and three Jaffa…who had been taken captive by Sokar just after Apophis had been killed…were ringing to the palace. A few others who had once served other gods would not be suspected as traitors, rather they would be viewed as Jaffa taken by Apophis who were proving their value to their new master.

Daniel and Casey would accompany the group, as Bra’tac would declare to one and all that not only had Apophis returned, but he had captured SG-1 immediately. He would also declare that the return of his god, and receiving his god’s ‘forgiveness’ had seen Bra’tac re-instated as the Master Jaffa, ready to resume training the chal’ti chosen from among the city’s youth. The announcement that Teal’c had been ‘retrained’ would also be made, and Teal’c would then resume his place at the side of Apophis as First Prime. Everything had to happen at once, and without allowing any lingering questions from among those on Chulak.

The sound of the rings activating had Casey’s heart racing. Once again she felt the gentle pressure of Daniel’s fingers against her hand, just before he took a step away. After all, he wouldn’t be allowed to stand too closely to the Consort of Apophis. When Pedram smiled at her, and took her hand, there was a...surprising…and welcome…sense of comfort.

When the light from the rings faded, the High Priest and those around him were on their knees, face down. At least three dozen Jaffa lined the hallway of the palace, each of them standing at attention, arms across their chests in salute.

"You may rise," Vanshu said. He waited until all were facing him. "You have served me faithfully. This I will remember," he said to the High Priest.

"You honor me, My Lord," the man replied apprehensively. He frowned when he saw Bra’tac. "My Lord-"

Vanshu raised his hand. "Bra’tac has returned to my side. And in doing so, brought all of the Jaffa who had once fled their gods. They serve me. And to show their devotion to me, they searched the galaxy, and captured the Tau’ri known as SG-1. Even now Teal’c waits to serve me once again as First Prime."

"These?" the priest motioned to Daniel and Casey. He recognized Daniel, but was uncertain as to the identity of the beautiful woman.

"Ah, yes. Daniel Jackson now serves as my lo’taur. This beautiful woman was once his wife. Now, she is my Consort," Vanshu replied dismissively.

"The others? There were two others also known as SG-1," the priest insisted.

"Slaves to the loyal Goa’uld who have helped facilitate my return," Vanshu replied. He stared at the priest for one long moment. "It seems that my absence has made you forget your place. Your life, and every human life on this planet, belongs to me. Who I choose to serve me is not your concern."

"No, My Lord," the priest said hurriedly. "I meant no disrespect. You are a mighty and powerful god, and it is our honor to serve you." Once again the priest bowed low.

"Very good," Vanshu murmured. He glanced at Bra’tac, who instantly brushed the priest aside, and began to lead the way toward the throne room.

Vanshu had made certain that everyone watching noticed as he turned and offered his arm to Casey…an action that Apophis had done often with Amaunet, according to the reports of both Bra’tac and Teal’c. With luck this would encourage those around them to see Casey as deserving the same subservience as the Goa’uld’s former Queen.

Casey put her hand on Vanshu’s arm. She smiled, although she could feel her lips trembling. The smile on the Tok'ra’s face told her that she was doing well.

Daniel followed, doing his best to appear to be broken, and serving Apophis as was his duty. So damned many Jaffa! This could be a problem if we can’t get our guys down here soon!

The Jaffa who had accompanied ‘Apophis’ and his entourage moved with the assurance of being among the small number of warriors their ‘god’ trusted. Those who lined the corridor watched with varying degrees of envy, and just a touch worry.

In spite of the fact that the war among the Goa’uld had occurred on the very outreaches of the galaxy…word was getting around. In the second town they had visited, the local traders had reported that Apophis was back, the Goa’uld Empire was history, and any Goa’uld not Apophis was too weak to do much more than just complain about his or her circumstances.

This was the third ‘stop’ on the list of trading planets and towns that SG-5 had been assigned. It was on the farthest reaches of the trading routes. Usually the locals didn’t seem to care that they were walking into town. Most didn’t even bother to acknowledge them. This time was no different.

Major Wheaton walked through the door of the tavern, his men at his back. He stood for a moment, giving his eyes time to adjust to the dim interior…and making certain that everyone in the room had taken note of his entrance. Satisfied that every eye would be on him as he made his way to the bar…grateful that his team would be all the protection he’d need from any attempts at a ‘sneak attack’…he strode through the bar as if he owned it.

The bartender eyed him warily. Every time people dressed like these four men showed up they were after information. Usually demanding that information and using threats to get what they wanted. It never seemed to matter how often he claimed to know nothing, those annoying bastards always managed to intimidate his customers into telling all. He heaved a sigh. "What do you want?"

Wheaton lowered his P90 to the bar. There was an accent that made the ‘language of the gods’ sound just a bit different. But he could understand well enough. "A drink."

Startled, the bartender’s eyes widened. "A drink?"

The major’s bronze-colored face puckered with a frown. "That’s what you sell here, right? Drinks?"

"Uh…well…uh…yes," the bartender stuttered.

The major took delight in the man’s discomfort, and decided really knocking the guy for a loop would probably net him more info than being pissy about it. And, since he had the luxury of not actually being desperate to find out where missing SGC personnell were, he was going to try a different approach. He stuck out his hand. "My name’s Wheaton."

The bartender stared at the outstretched hand for a moment. Then slowly wrapped his fingers around Wheaton’s. "Ja’reem," he said, still not at all certain what was going on.

Ja’reem laughed. "I think I can offer something that will do none of those things." He pulled a bottle off one of the upper shelves. Took a glass, wiped it carefully with a clean cloth, then filled it with a fragrant smelling amber liquid. He offered it to the major.

With a nod, Wheaten lifted the glass and sniffed it. It didn’t smell noxious. In fact, it had a very pleasant bouquet. He took a small sip. Then closed his eyes as the sweet, caramel-flavored liquor slid down his throat and warmed his belly. "Oh, that’s nice. Pour a bit for my boys, here."

The bartender happily complied. His smile grew as the three men with Wheaton also showed their appreciation for the very special brandy. "So what brings you here?" He filled four glasses a second time.

"Well, we heard the damnedest rumor," Wheaton admitted. He took another sip, then locked his gaze on the barman. "Has us a bit worried. Ya see, one of our teams was on a simple recon mission. They didn’t make their scheduled check-in. We were a bit concerned, so we went to see if they were okay."

"Were they?" Ja’reem asked.

"No clue. There wasn’t a trace of them anywhere. Now," the major continued, aware that everyone in the room was listening to him, "we were all set to go out and find them, when we got word that Apophis has made a come-back."

Ja’reem’s face went pale. "It cannot be!" he declared.

"Yeah, that’s what we thought, too," Wheaton nodded agreeably. "We need to find our people. What has us worried is the idea that maybe…just maybe, it’s Apophis who snatched them."

"I have heard nothing about the return of Apophis." The bartender was totally unaware of the fact that he was willfully volunteering information.

The bartender shook his head, then poured another drink for the man standing in front of him. "I have heard nothing." He glanced past Wheaton’s shoulder. Noted that every head in the room was shaking from side to side. Not only had they not heard anything about slaves, the wide eyes and concerned expressions were evidence that they’d not heard about the return of Apophis, either. "We know nothing," the bartender said, not with malice, but with caution.

Wheaton nodded, and finished his drink. "Well, if you hear anything, send word to the SGC. And you might let folks know that Apophis is back. He’s probably pissy, and might try striking at planets that are free."

Ja’reem nodded his understanding. "If we hear anything, we will find a way to let your people know."

"Just make sure that all your friends are ready to protect themselves. Apophis is going to be grabbing for slaves and men he can turn into Jaffa," the major warned.

Eyes widened around the room. Two men pushed away from their table and hurried into the street.

Digging into his pocket for the gold coins he’d signed out of the supply room to use for barter, he tossed half a dozen of them onto the wooden bar. "Thanks for the drink, and the conversation."

The bartender nodded. He watched as the four men turned to leave. "Wheaton!"

The major turned slightly. "Yes?"

"I hope that you locate your friends, and that they are well," Ja’reem said.

Wheaton smiled…a sincere, warm smile. "Thanks, Ja’reem. I hope so, too."

It wasn’t until they were walking toward the ‘gate that Lieutenant Bernstein spoke up. "Guess it’s true, you collect more flies with honey."

Wheaton chuckled. "Well, we’ve developed such a reputation of being downright disagreeable when we’re looking for our people that most folks just clam up. Figured I’d see what I could do to change that a bit. That’s the first time I think any team has been in there and not been harassed, ignored, or at risk of starting a shoot-out."

"Well, you know those folks are going to spread the word about Apophis being back," the lieutenant smirked.

"Yep. Which will make it seem all the more miraculous when we Tau’ri get rid of him permanently," Wheaton replied.

"We should be sure we all play up the fact that we made nice with the locals, got a bit of good brandy, and found out they didn’t know about Apophis as of yet, or the little Goa’uld war we started," the lieutenant continued.

"Community service and building up our own rep. Nice work, sir," Airman Sanders grinned.

"Okay, which dive is next on our list?" Wheaton asked, grinning in return.

The lieutenant pulled up the coordinates on his tablet. "Looks like we’re heading to PX7 551."

"Dial it up," Wheaton ordered easily.

In another part of the galaxy, Colonel Thomas was leading his team into a small town not more than a mile from the Stargate. There had been a steady stream of Tau’ri visiting this particular town for nearly two years – at first helping the villagers recover from a serious illness that had struck every man, woman and child...an event that Casey Jackson had picked up with her radar; then later bringing supplies and offering new ideas for farming and preserving food. The expectation was that the team would be greeted as friends.

Not having had Casey available to offer a ‘reading’ before leaving the SGC had the team on edge. Seeing villagers gathering in the square as they approached – expressions of fear and anger on their faces – made that lack of ‘extra’ information even more disconcerting.

Sergeant Sonny Botcelli had warm eyes and an even warmer smile. Those characteristics, and the fact that he could speak Goa’uld with relative ease, were the reasons he was often tasked to offer greetings to the people they came into contact with on their missions. "They don’t look happy, Colonel," he whispered.

"No, Botts, they don’t. See if you can convince them we’re not here to cause trouble," Thomas said.

"I thought we had a good reputation with these people…that we’d built up a good rapport with them," Doctor Susan Daly murmured.

"So did I, Doc," Thomas replied.

Botts stepped forward. "Greetings," he said, offering a smile.

"Why are you here?" the man closest to him demanded.

"Because we’re friends?" Botts said, his confusion genuine.

The man, who had been holding a very wicked looking hay fork, lowered it slightly. "We were told that the Tau’ri have betrayed their friends."

"Now who told you a lie like that?" Thomas asked immediately; he understood the language much better than he spoke it. "Have the Tau’ri ever done anything to you that earns your suspicion?" He glanced at the sergeant. "Mind translating for me?"

The young man nodded his head, and quickly repeated what the colonel had said, the words demanding a response.

Mutters and grumbles moved through the crowd.

"Let me guess," Botts sighed, hoping he was wrong, "some Goa’uld showed up, caused some trouble, and then blamed us for everything."

"How did you know?" the man asked, eyes wide.

"Because that’s what Goa’uld do," Thomas replied, through Botts. "Tell us what happened, and we’ll see what we can do to help." He turned to Major Sommers. "Major, get back to the ‘gate. Tell them we have a problem here. Might be a good idea to get a couple of medics here right away…we might need them."

"Right," the major said already turning to run down the road.

"Wait, I’ll go with you," Doctor Daly offered. "We don’t know if there are folks out there who still think we’re the bad guys."

"Thanks," Sommers smiled. "Appreciate the backup."

The colonel watched two of his team run down the road. Then turned to the gathered villagers. "Now, tell me everything."

Botts continued to translate.

"It started two weeks ago," the man said. "We did not recognize him, nor did he arrive with Jaffa. But he wore the armband and hand device of a System Lord."

Thomas frowned. Who in the hell would be running around impersonating a Goa’uld?

"He said his name was Ba’al. He insisted that he was a god, and then demanded that we worship him. But…" the man paused. "He fell ill while he was here. He commanded our women to care for him…he threatened their lives if they refused. He declared that the Tau’ri of the First World had poisoned him, and that they were never to be trusted."

"So you believed him?" Botts asked.

"He killed my brother," the man responded, before breaking down in sobs.

"Oh, shit," Thomas whispered.

"I am so sorry," Botts said quietly. "My CO," he pointed to Thomas, "and I grieve with you. I promise you, we didn’t poison him. I’m not saying we wouldn’t have done so if the opportunity arose, but we didn’t. And we’re out here trying to protect people from the Goa’uld…like Ba’al."

"That is what I said," a younger man insisted, stepping forward. "But fear has taken the hearts and the minds of these people."

"Let’s get everyone taken care of. Then we’ll figure out just what we’re going to do about this," Thomas promised. He turned to the sergeant. "Two weeks? Isn’t that about how long ago SG-1 was delivering a message to the clone?"

"I think so," Botts said. "So, are you thinking what I’m thinking?"

"It had to be the clone if he fell ill," Thomas confirmed. "Why didn’t he bring Jaffa with him?"

"Maybe he was afraid of them turning on him?" Botts offered.

"Possible." Thomas turned back to the first man, who had managed to stop weeping. "Find out if anyone else has been wounded," he instructed the sergeant.

Botts nodded. "Was anyone else hurt?"

"Several were victims of his hand device," the younger man replied.

"We’ll have medics here in just a bit to take a look," Thomas promised. "Tell me what else happened."

As the sergeant translated, and the leader listened carefully, the people around them began to visibly relax.

The villagers led him and Botts into the large building that served as their community center. The colonel watched as the villagers wearily settled on the benches around him. This, he thought, feeling suddenly as weary as the faces around him looked, is going to take awhile.

While it was true that she wasn’t technically a prisoner, as long as she was surrounded by Jaffa who were loyal to a Goa’uld, and by the hierarchy of that Goa’uld’s priesthood, she certainly wasn’t ‘free’. Casey recognized that suffocating feeling of being a captive. It was almost more than she could bear to be away from the rest of the team, especially Daniel. Being alone and captive had never been easy.

Vanshu had made certain that her pack had been brought to her, and just before she’d hidden it away, she’d pulled her journal from the outer pocket. She pulled the cap off the pen and began writing.

She began to detail all that had happened during the preceding hours. About ten, if she was counting correctly. A smile tugged at her lips as she wrote about the concern that Pedram and Vanshu had shown. She made certain to name each of the Jaffa who had so determinedly played their part as loyal Jaffa; each of them convincing enough to have her just a bit worried for a few moments at a time.

It was with absolute delight that she wrote about the defeat of the System Lords that had allied against Ba’al. Her soft giggle filled the air as she wrote her theories about Ba’al and his reactions to the battle against him. It was maddening that he had managed to escape...damned snake, anyway, she thought with a huff...but he had been knocked down so low that it would be a very long time, if ever, that he was a threat again. The tension that filled her any time that particular name was mentioned was beginning to unwind. Maybe, just maybe, I won’t have nightmares about that bastard now.

Her pen continued to move over the page...

Casey followed the two women…she guessed their ages to be mid-forties…into the lavishly appointed bathroom that opened to the bedchamber. One of the women started to fill the huge marble tub, she could see steam began to rise. A flask from a nearby cabinet filled with crystal bottles and jars was chosen. The contents dumped into the rising water. The scent of gardenias filled the air. Almost as sweet as the flowers in Emma’s back yard, she thought.

The other woman helped the seer out of the revealing green dress…her hands gentle as they touched the trembling body. Casey obeyed the signal to get into the water, slid down and closed her eyes. If the situation was different…much different, her mind insisted…she could actually enjoy this.

She started slightly when the woman who had helped her undress began to pour water on her hair. The hands that washed her long blonde tresses continued to be gentle. It could have been so easy for this woman to have been brusque…cruel even. The simple act of gentleness brought her to tears. She opened her eyes and offered a small smile, not completely unaware that her lips were quivering…again.

"I am Gin’ra," the woman with the gentle hands said softly. "What are you called, child?"

Casey fought back tears…her nerves were stretched to the limit, and the kindness she was being shown was more than she had expected. "Casey," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The other woman, who had been busy gathering towels, turned to look at her. "I am Doora."

"Thank you," Casey said, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.

"For what?" Doora asked, obviously bewildered.

"Being kind," Casey responded. She noticed the look the two women exchanged, and began to worry that their kindness was going to precede their attempt to kill her.

Gin’ra smiled, and patted Casey’s naked shoulder. "Your fear fills your eyes. You must not allow Apophis to see such fear. He will, instead, wish to see you smiling."

"I’m his prisoner," Casey said, a bit of the fire she was known for filling those expressive eyes. "Being happy isn’t going to happen."

The two exchanged a knowing glance. "The man Apophis has taken as his lo’taur…he was once your husband, yes?"

"Yes," Casey whispered.

"Then for his safety, you must give to Apophis exactly what he wants…and expects," Doora told her.

Ice cold terror raced down her spine for one second. It’s not real. She could hear Daniel whispering the words. It’s not real. No, it wasn’t real. But it sure as hell felt that way! "I’ll try," Casey promised.

Doora nodded, and offered an encouraging smile. "Come, let us get you into a fresh gown, and your hair combed."

With a submissive nod, Casey obeyed the instructions that were offered in soft voices. She decided that the new silk gown wasn’t quite as bad as the green one…it had a substantially low neckline, although she didn’t feel as if her breasts were about to be exposed. And the white lined with what appeared to be real gold was a bit worrisome…it looked too much like a wedding dress to her.

Her hair was carefully curled with an old fashioned-type curling iron, one heated in an actual fire. She wondered how much damage would be done to her hair during the process, then decided that there had been a significant amount of what seemed to be a moisturizer rubbed through the long tresses to offer some protection. When the curls were completed, Gin’ra pulled the sides back and secured them with pins…each decorated with an emerald the size of a quarter, completely surrounded by diamonds. A complicated-looking necklace was latched around her neck, the gold that held the jewels cold against her skin.

A pair of gold sandals were brought out of the closet. They felt as uncomfortable as they looked…the footwear had Casey hoping she wouldn’t be expected to walk far from the room she was in.

"You are quite beautiful, Casey," Doora smiled. "Your beauty will protect you."

"And your obedience will protect the lo’taur," Gin’ra added, the words sounding like a warning.

"I understand," Casey replied. Yep…feeling way to damned real for me! She was too off-balance in that moment to recognize the fact that – rather than insisting she was being honored to be chosen as the Consort of a god – the women were speaking much more freely...and with far more candor, than what the slaves of a ‘god’ should be comfortable doing.

"Come. It is time for you to greet your Master." Doora lead the way into the corridor.

Vanshu had decided that putting two Jaffa with whom Casey was comfortable into place as her guards would go far in helping the young woman as she dealt with her feelings of unease. He could well understand her misgivings, he was suffering from the same emotions. While they had been successful in battle, convincing these loyal Jaffa and priests that he was truly Apophis could be much trickier than establishing himself among combatant Goa’uld had been. In spite of their own inclination towards deceit and treachery, the fear he had instilled had made his words and actions believable.

So it was that Adal and Aron were waiting just outside the chamber door. "My Lady," Aron said, formally saluting the young woman. He gave a nod to the two women, those obviously chosen to serve as the maids to the Consort of Apophis. He watched as the women slipped back into the rooms that made up the private apartment of the resident god.

The instant the words left the Jaffa’s mouth, Casey felt herself yanked back to the ha’tak where she had spent so many horrible days…weeks. The words reminded her of the pain she had endured, being away from Daniel, away from the safety of his arms. In that moment she needed him as much as she had needed him then.

"This way," Adal said, holding his arm out to indicate the direction in which they would move.

"I hope it’s not far. These shoes are already killing my feet," Casey complained, repeating over and over again in her mind that she was playing a part, that her ‘captivity’ wasn’t real.

"It is not far," the Jaffa promised.

True to his word, they passed two doors, and then turned into the intersecting corridor. At the end was a set of huge double doors. The corridor leading to the throne room was lined with Jaffa, who were stationed every few feet. As she passed, the Jaffa stood at attention, recognition of her position as the Consort of Apophis. Aron opened the doors, then led Casey inside.

Daniel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw her. In spite of the fact that the gown she was wearing was open to just below her breasts, it actually seemed a bit more modest than the green dress…which had been open almost to her navel. Multiple strands of pearls – interspersed with diamonds and emeralds – wrapped around her throat and décolletage, with a single strand dipping down between the curves of her breasts. The gold trim along the edges of the dress glittered in the candle- and torchlight that filled the room. It was the white of the silk that announced what her attire represented. That, he thought glumly, is a wedding dress. No doubt the High Priestess had something to do with choosing that particular gown. This isn’t real. He watched as Aron led Casey to where Vanshu…Apophis…waited. It’s not real, he repeated to himself.

Vanshu was just as taken aback by Casey’s appearance as her husband. She was stunningly beautiful, and he found himself rising to his feet as she approached. The troubling thought that her beauty could stir jealousy in the heart of a priestess, or even a maid, and put the young seer in danger – most probably of being poisoned – flitted through his mind. "My Beloved," he said, grateful for Pedram’s urging to ‘play the part’.

The Tok’ra kept his eyes on Casey, with his peripheral vision watching those around him. The High Priest was as struck by her beauty as every other man in the room. Five of the ‘elite’ families of Chulak, those to whom Apophis had granted lands and slaves, in return for their worship…and the helpful tidbits of village gossip they could bring to him…were gathered to one side. Three young women, daughters of those families no doubt, looked positively green with envy. He took time to note that they were each carefully dressed, their hair piled in curls on top of their heads, jewels glittering in their ears and around their throats. He barely bit back a chuckle, remembering Casey’s ‘vision’.

It had been a surprise to learn that two very minor Goa’uld, both of whom had served Apophis in the past, had found their way to Chulak, arriving just before the fleet. No one was certain if they’d been on one of the other System Lord’s ships during the battle, or if they had been on a planet somewhere, and simply learned about the return of their ‘god’. Any news of his return would have certainly been accompanied by reports of his actions during the ‘confrontation’ with Ba’al. No doubt these Goa’uld were determined to continue to live as well as possible as ‘advisors’. Their presence had added more tension to an already stressful situation. Teal’c was certain that he and the Free Jaffa would be able to keep the two under control. They could easily be killed, and their bodies disposed of – zat’nik’tels would prevent any evidence of their fate from ever being found – and the rest of the populace could be told that they were away on ‘business’ for Apophis, should there be any questions. They would, Vanshu had decided, ‘play it by ear’…even though Pedram was definitely on the ‘kill them now’ side of their private conversation.

Aldwin and Lorraine were in attendance as well, dressed as the higher ranking Goa’uld they were pretending to be. Jack was wearing simple black trousers and a sleeveless black shirt, while the Tok’ra was wearing a much more elaborate royal blue suit. Sam was wearing a red silk dress which closely resembled a kimono. Lorraine’s red hair played beautifully against the deep green of the satin dress she wore. She was also wearing a tiara of emeralds and diamonds.

When Casey saw her two friends standing behind their ‘masters’, she breathed a silent sigh of relief. Seeing them reminded her that she wasn’t alone in this game. It was almost impossible not to stare at Daniel. He was wearing the same cut of clothes as he had been earlier, but the cream colored satin accentuated the strength of his legs, and the amount of chest visible beneath the vest was enough to have any red-blooded woman breathing hard. The gold of the slave collar brought her up short…she jerked slightly…forced herself to look at Vanshu.

Hopefully, she thought, Vanshu and Pedram had enlisted Bra’tac and Teal’c’s advice on what to wear – because the blue satin tunic, although heavily embroidered, over the cream satin trousers seemed far too understated for a Goa’uld.

Teal’c was standing behind the throne, wearing the Serpent Guard uniform, as was every other Jaffa in the room. The helm was open, revealing the skull cap that carefully concealed his newly grown hair…something that Apophis wouldn’t have allowed. He scrutinized the countenances of the priests. Three of the priestesses wore expressions that seemed…bitter.

He continued to observe their faces as Casey was brought deeper into the room. There were flickers of curiosity, but nothing more. It was not the presence of Casey Jackson that displeased them, then. If asked, he would reply that it was the return of their ‘god’ that had them indignant. Something they were struggling to disguise. It would, Teal’c thought, be judicious to keep several Jaffa near the temple offices. The presence of the warriors would discourage the religious sect from acting rashly. And being placed as sentries in the temple would allow those Jaffa to hear any whispers that might be shared. They couldn’t allow an indignant priest...or priestess...to kill Apophis because his return was limiting the power they had been wielding.

When Casey was close enough, Vanshu took her hand. He then turned her to face the audience in the room. "Behold, my Consort!"

Everyone in the room, including three very unhappy young women, bowed low.

"I have returned, not dead as my enemies perceived. Not weakened, not defeated. I have learned much in my time away. I will not tolerate disobedience. I will not tolerate defiance in any form. Your lives belong to me. You live because I allow it," Vanshu said. He watched – several of the Jaffa, almost all of the priests and priestesses, and the two Goa’uld – reacted nervously to the declaration. Not much. Not even enough that those around them would see it, or even sense it. But the signs were there. The twitch of a cheek. A flicker in an eye. The subtle shift from one foot to the other. "I am a generous god, however. Serve me well, worship me as is my due, and I will reward you from the bounty in my hands."

One of the priests nearly dropped his chalice of wine. His face went pale, and his companions moved slowly but noticeably away from him. Everyone remained frozen, not sure what to expect from their newly returned god.

Vanshu stared coldly at the priest. Then, offered a smile. As if a switch had been thrown, every face in the room reflected that smile. "Are you unwell? Do you need your god to bring the might of his healing power on you?"

"N…n…no, My Lord. I fear I am simply overcome with joy at standing so near my god once again," the priest stammered.

"Ah, yes. I do understand," Vanshu said magnanimously. "Sit, everyone! Let us begin the celebration of my return!" He turned to look at the women who had once been in the harem of Apophis. "Music! We must have music!"

The first notes were a bit sour as shaking fingers moved over the strings of the harps and the instruments that closely resembled guitars. But within minutes a lively tune was filling the air.

Vanshu made certain that Casey was seated comfortably, then sat down beside her. He nodded at Daniel, who moved closer, standing as if waiting for any orders. "You are beautiful tonight," Vanshu said softly. "I’m certain Daniel appreciates your beauty."

"Yes, I do," Daniel said softly, his lips not moving enough to be noticed by those seated further out in the room.

Casey did her best not to look at her husband. But was unable to bite back her smile at his words. "Thank you…both of you," she whispered in reply.

"Teal’c informed me that Apophis always had his lo’taur sleep in an alcove off his chamber. Amaunet had her own chamber that connected to that of Apophis. There was a ‘common room’ between the two, where they shared meals and spent time together," Vanshu said softly. "I can see no problem with Daniel being able to slip into your room tonight, as the room doesn’t open to a corridor."

Casey gave a small nod as Vanshu described the rooms she’d been in. A worried thought caused her to frown. "Only if the two women who were sent to serve me aren’t there."

Vanshu frowned as well. "I will see to it that they are sent away for the night."

"Unless that’s something Apophis wouldn’t do," Casey pointed out.

"Let’s hope that Apophis can do what he damned well pleases, and no one is of a mind to question him or his motives," Vanshu said. "Now, we must smile, as if we are enjoying ourselves. Or…at least I must pretend to be delighted with this feast in my honor."

"Good luck," Casey muttered, bringing a chirp of laughter from the man beside her.

The meal was served…platters of meat and fresh fruit, carefully prepared vegetables, and delicate cakes and pastries were carried in by a parade of slaves. Each platter was taken first to ‘Apophis’, who eagerly made his selections, encouraging his ‘Beloved’ to do so, as well. Then the other guests were served; the Goa’uld first, then the men and women of the temple, and then the few ‘dignitaries’ of Chulak. Very few seemed to actually eat…all eyes remained on Apophis.

After nearly two hours, ‘Apophis’ demanded a bowl of water, so that he could wash his hands. Once again Teal’c’s knowledge of the Goa’uld dictated their actions.

A group of scantily clad men and women appeared, and began dancing; half a dozen men had joined the women who were playing music, adding the sounds of drums and pipes to the tunes. The dancers moved gracefully across the floor. Vanshu noted how close the dancers actually came to the Goa’uld who watched. How easy would it be for one of the dancers to touch those Goa’uld – using a special ring with tiny needles imbedded in the stones – and poison them?

That could certainly be beneficial, Pedram said quietly.

Yes, it could be, the Tok’ra agreed.

Vanshu had continued to watch the priests. The High Priest and three of the others seemed to have a lot to converse about…although they chose to whisper only when they believed Apophis wasn’t watching them. They were either plotting to kill their returned god, or they were trying to figure out how to prevent Apophis from learning about their most certain larceny.

You know, it would seem that Apophis would be interested in just how flush his coffers are. He was just in battle, and though he didn’t lose any ships, there are repairs that must be made. We’ve already learned that most trading planets will no longer just give Goa’uld what they demand, Pedram said…his voice low, so as not to startle Vanshu.

This is true, Vanshu agreed.

I believe that Apophis would demand to see the registers where all of the business of his temple is recorded. That could create enough fear and havoc that there won’t be anyone in the palace who gives a damn about who is sneaking into whose chamber, Pedram continued. "It would also give us all the information we need about the planets that still pay tribute to Apophis, and where the priests get their prim’ta.

Most of the prim’ta come from one planet. And the Tau’ri have been poisoning the river where the Goa’uld spawn. Only enough to kill the Goa’uld, Vanshu replied with a chuckle. From the last survey that the Tok’ra took there were fewer than fifty Goa’uld that could be found. And they were promptly destroyed. What we don’t know is if the Goa’uld are aware of that fact. I believe there are other sources, but I do not know how many prim’ta may be available. I don’t believe that the number could be significant enough to prevent us from destroying them as well.

That is most encouraging, Pedram sighed. You can be certain that if there is another source, Apophis’ records would list such a place. Of course, if any of the Goa’uld can spawn…

I thought any male would do, Pedram said.

Vanshu chuckled again. No, the male has to be compatible. And that’s not always easy. Some Goa’uld use drugs to create that compatibility, but those spawn are usually weak, and most never survive. To spawn in that manner was more of an attempt to create a substantial number of larvae in the hopes that a few would thrive. The most positive thing about the Goa’uld spawning in rivers and lakes is the lack of current knowledge about their empire. It’s very easy to...persuade...them of certain ‘facts’ because of that lack of information. What has been the most devastating is the number of Jaffa who have left the Goa’uld. They served as ‘incubators’ for the prim’ta. And it’s not possible to infest a child with a Goa’uld larvae too soon, their bodies don’t cope well, for some reason. Thus, they have to reach the age of ‘prim’ta’, which is usually around thirteen years of age. As the Goa’uld lost control of planets where they harvested the populations for hosts and slaves, the number of those available to become Jaffa dropped significantly.

I see, Pedram ‘nodded’. He contemplated what Vanshu had shared with him. Obviously, the issue of the prim’ta was one that would need to be addressed. But...that would have to wait until they weren’t in danger of having their mission exposed. Well, we can just focus on what planets these priests and Jaffa still hold hostage, and make certain that the Tau’ri can make a visit to free them.

This time Vanshu laughed out loud. Everyone in the room took notice. Casey leaned closer, as if she were the reason for his outburst.

"What’s so funny?" Casey asked, in a hushed whisper.

"Pedram is anxious to be rid of all traces of Goa’uld in the galaxy," Vanshu explained, his voice as low as possible.

"Oh, well I’m for that," she giggled.

"Then let us begin," Vanshu replied. He gave the seer a subtle wink. He rose to his feet. "Enough!" he shouted. The music died on half a dozen weak notes, and the dancers froze in place.

Fear rolled over the assembled ‘elites’ in waves. All had memories of bursts of displeasure…anger…rages. The times when Apophis would strike out at the innocent in a flurry of wrath-driven attacks. How many times had Jaffa pounded on the doors of the houses of Chulak, most often in the dead of night, demanding entrance; and then searching for whatever device or traitor that Apophis had decided was hidden in the city, and was the cause of whatever situation in which he had found himself? How many loyal followers among those who operated businesses had been arrested, accused of some petty crime that offended their god? And among those accused, how many had been executed for their fictitious crime?

Servants and slaves backed into the shadows. Those who lived in Chulak…those who had remained loyal to their ‘god’, were suddenly wondering why they had prayed for his return. And several were already beginning to plot to get rid of him once again. The two Goa’uld who had determined to make themselves useful to Apophis watched and listened carefully; they would attempt to determine what the System Lord wanted, then do their best to provide it. Doing so would be their only means of survival.

Vanshu looked directly at the High Priest. "We have celebrated long enough. I now require you to show me the ledgers that record my holdings. I will know all that has transpired while I was absent."

The High Priest nearly passed out. Before the night was over he would be dead, he was certain. There had not been enough time to hide everything…not enough time to put back what should be in the treasury. And he was positive that Apophis would demand a counting of every shes’ta. He would be killed for his weakness and his disobedience.

"Go…you may leave now," Vanshu said jovially, waving a hand toward the now open doors of the banquet room.

The guests rose as one, and made their way silently through the door. Vanshu nodded, and a dozen Jaffa ‘escorted’ the departing visitors to the gates of the palace. Which were closed and locked behind them.

"So our god has returned," one man said quietly, as two old friends stepped into the street together.

"So he has," his companion replied.

"By morning the priests will have concocted a dozen or more plots to kill him," the first man mused.

"Perhaps. But Apophis is…different. He is still cold and arrogant. But there is wisdom in his eyes. I know not where he’s been. But he is not the same Goa’uld we once served," the second man said. "This is a Goa’uld like no other. And if the stories of the Jaffa who have returned are true, there will be no battles in which we can pray for him to fall."

The first man sighed heavily. "If the stories the Jaffa tell are true, then killing Apophis will see the end of any rule by a Goa’uld. How we should accomplish this feat, however, I do not know."

"As we, and the Jaffa here, helped Teal’c when he pleaded with us?" The first man said sarcastically.

The second man remained silent for a moment…in remembrance or shame, his companion didn’t know. "What of the Jaffa? Those who have remained loyal will certainly carry out any and all of his orders, no matter how abhorrent."

The first man sighed. "I believe that you have a valid point regarding the Tau’ri. We can only hope that we can get a message to their ‘SGC’, and pray that they will respond with more…empathy…than we had in our response to Teal’c."

"Without the Jaffa learning of our treachery," the second said, sighing as well.

The two men shuffled into the night, each heading for their homes.

Just behind the pillars that supported the gate, two Jaffa exchanged glances. "Interesting," M’zel said softly.

"We must let Teal’c know about this," Lo’teal replied.

The taller Jaffa nodded. "Come."

The two Rebel Jaffa walked past a group of those who had been living on Chulak, their very manner speaking of their rank and importance. The lesser soldiers parted respectfully. In their minds, those two Jaffa represented the true ‘faithful ones’…warriors who had left the shol’va behind, and now served the greatest System Lord to ever exist.

Bra’tac watched as the group of Jaffa moved back into the palace. He had not overheard the conversation between the two men, but he was aware by their movements that M’zel and Lo’teal had been alerted to something. That the other Jaffa didn’t respond to any perceived threats meant that so far, all believed the story that he and Vanshu had so carefully constructed.

He glanced at the moon-lit hills that surrounded Chulak. Wondered if there were Tau’ri already waiting for the order to ‘free’ SG-1. He almost chuckled out loud. The faces of those who had been part of the celebration bespoke of a people willing to worship their god…as long as that god stayed conveniently dead. They understood now – somewhat belatedly he thought – that having that god return would bring far too much oppression. Just how soon would the rebellion start, led by the people of Chulak?

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