Al-Quasa're
by Tigermoth
EMAIL: nvc425@hotmail.com
STATUS: Complete
RATING: PG13
CATEGORY: Action/Adventure with a light sprinkling (very light) of Daniel/Janet. Quasi-Response to 'The Tok'ra Queen' Challenge.
SPOILERS: Anything with Cassandra, Dominic or the Tok'ra in it.
SUMMARY: NFI. Just read it okay.
DISCLAIMER: All the Stargate people and stuff are
definitely not mine. So NER.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:Feedback = more fic. Hopefully of better quality than
this pov ass attempt! *cringe*
'At the hole where he went in
Red-Eye called to Wrinkle-Skin.
Hear what little Red-Eye saith:
"Nag, come up and dance with death!"
===================
0730h GMT 7:30 am
Friday Morning
Cheyenne Mountain
Control Room, SGC
===================
"Incoming Traveller."
One by one the chevrons engaged. Red flashes of light
from the centre stones indicating an approved signal.
A technician in the control room watched the computer
read the energy signature as it came through.
He looked behind him to a stout man sporting General's
stars on his Air Force uniform. "It's the Tok'ra,
Sir," he said as the seventh chevron locked into
place.
General Hammond glanced in surprise at the technician
and started for the Gate Room. "Let them through."
The technician nodded in acknowledgment and typed in
the iris deactivation code. The protective metal jaws
withdrew into the Stargate in time to allow for the
wormhole to burst forth through the gate. Hammond
looked expectantly at the shimmering circle of blue
light. The base's main team, SG-1, were
uncharacteristically absent from the welcoming party,
as they were offworld on an explorative mission.
Four human figures stepped through the Stargate and
onto the ramp. Three men, and one woman. The men
were cloaked in dull brown robes. Hoods, drawn low
over their faces, concealed their identities in
shadow. The one at the front of the group was Jacob,
host of Selmac. The other two were unknown. The
woman, on the other hand, was dressed far less
conservatively. Rust-coloured leather clung to the
curves of her legs like a poorly-fitted glove. Her
shirt...if the scrap of material could be afforded
such a label; was of similar design, but if the
neckline of the garment plunged any further south, it
would be nothing more than a leather belt with
sleeves.
The one named Selmac drew back his hood and motioned
for the others to do the same. "General Hammond," he
rumbled, with the distinct voice of the Tok'ra. "We
apologise for our unannounced visit, but there was not
much that we could do." The grey-haired Tok'ra turned
to introduce his companions. "These are Reynold, host
of Much'tar, and Ming, host of Farwock. And of
course, you are already aquainted with Freya, host of
Anise."
Much'tar and Farwock bobbed their heads in greeting to
the General. Each held staff weapons in their hands,
and between them they carried a heavily jewelled
chest. The female Tok'ra Anise also bowed her head in
greeting, but did not risk a low bow, as her bosoms
were already threatening to jump from the nonexistent
confines of her dress.
Hammond took the hand of Selmac and shook it, and then
turned towards the ‘Gate Room door, silently
indicating that they should follow. "Not a problem,
Selmac." He said, as they headed towards the Briefing
Room. "Unfortunately, SG-1 is not here to greet you.
They are on assignment until 1500 hours this
afternoon.”
The group filed into the Briefing Room, where Hammond
took a seat at the head of the wooden table in the
centre of the room. Much'tar and Farwock placed their
jewelled burden on the table between them, seating
themselves behind Anise and Selmac who had already
assumed places at the table.
The bald-headed General leant forward with his
forearms on the table. "So, what brings you to
Earth?" he asked, looking Selmac directly in the eye,
and then glancing at the glittering chest.
The older man gestured to the Tok'ra behind him to
open the chest. "General, as much as we despise to
admit, we come today in search of your help."
Much'tar took a sandstone coloured container from the
chest and handed it to Selmac. "This," said the
Tok'ra, handing the container to the General, "is a
portable Goa'uld stasis chamber. We believe that the
Tau'ri refer to them as 'Can-O-Pick' jars."
Hammond raised his eyebrows as a signal for the Tok'ra
to continue. Anise took the moment to pick up where
Selmac had left off.
"We believe that your people have come across one of
these before," she said, her voice sounded deep and
metallic, indicative of the Tok'ra who shared her
body. "In the jar found by SG-1 was the carcass of
the Goa'uld symbiont Isis. This one, however,
contains a symbiont named 'Al-Quasa're'. She is a
queen, whom, until now, we believed destroyed along
with her host, a century ago."
Hammond took a double-take at the woman's solemn
words. "You're telling me that jar has a Goa'uld queen
in it?" His round face turned red, infuriated at the
thought that the Tok'ra would dare to bring such a
dangerous creature to the base.
Selmac moved quickly to alleviate the General's fears.
"No General," he said, "A Tok'ra Queen. Like the
Isis Jar, the seal is damaged, and without your aid in
finding us a willing host...she will surely die."
--
======================
1522h GMT 3:22pm
Friday Afternoon
Brook Street, Colorado
======================
--
The pair walked down the street side by side, kicking
small gravel stones out of their path. A gentle
breeze tugged playfully at Cassandra's shoulder-length
brown hair, whipping it over her shoulders in gentle
gusts. Beside her, walked Dominic. Slightly taller
than his female friend, he stooped his shoulders as he
moved - the awkward posture of a boy who had grown
taller that he possibly would have liked in his
teenaged years. Their bubbling chatter echoed down
the otherwise empty street, save for the occasional
barking of the Big Brave House Dog.
"Did you see the Computer Nazi's face when she saw the
desktop?" exclaimed Cassandra, her brown eyes
twinkling with mischief.
Her companion smiled, furrowing his brows. "No, I
missed it. What happened?"
Cassandra turned her head to face his as they walked.
Around them the birds twittered amongst the rusty
autumn leaves in the trees. She flicked the curtain of
her hair as the breeze blew it into her face. "Ohhh,
you SO should have been there!" She laughed. "Jane
swapped the computer desktop in the library for some
pictures..." the girl paused, waggling her eyebrows
suggestively for effect, "...of the raunchy kind!"
Dominic stared in disbelief at his friend for a
moment, and then joined her in her riotous laughter.
"No shit, really?"
Cassandra nodded, and shoved him playfully off the
path. "Yeah, it was hilarious."
--
At the far end of the street, a car turned. Its
silver paint gleamed in the chill autumn sunlight.
Tinted windows gave no clue as to the identities of
its occupants. The car cruised slowly on silent
tires, moving with the sleek stealth of a panther on
the hunt.
--
The two teenagers continued walking down the street
towards Cassandra's home. Their pleasant banter had
turned to the latest gossip concerning their favourite
television shows. Neither of them noticed the sleek
silver Mercedes until it was right in front of them.
Cassandra froze, a sick feeling coming to her stomach
as she saw the car. Grabbing Dominic by the arm, she
forced him to a halt beside her.
"Cass?" He asked uncertainly, "What is it? Are you
okay?"
Cassandra's lips moved silently, mouthing a word that
Dominic could not understand, over and over. The look
of intense fear in her eyes was growing with every
moment. The dark-haired boy looked over in the
direction where Cassandra's eyes had focused. Just in
time to see the silver car as it ground to a halt just
a few meters away.
Suddenly, Cassandra seemed to snap out of her trance.
She whirled around in the opposite direction, tugging
urgently on Dominic's sleeve.
"RUN!"
Unsure of what was happening, Dominic turned and
started running. He sprinted closely behind
Cassandra, straining under the heft of the backpack on
his shoulders as the fled down the street, away from
the silver car. He desperately wanted to know what
was going on, but Cassandra would not stop long
enough, insisting that they flee.
So they ran. Their sneakers pounded the footpath in
desperate escape. The intensity of the fear, which
radiated of his friend, grew as they heard the rumble
of car tires hot on their tail.
The silver Mercedes.
It screeched to a halt in front of them. Two men and
two women burst out of the car. They were all dressed
in crisp grey business suits, save for one of the
women, who's tight leather garb looked more like
something out of 'Debbie Does Dallas' than Business
Suits 'R' Us.
Dominic heard Cassandra swear loudly when she spotted
the suits walking briskly towards them. She turned,
the panic clear in her eyes, searching desperately for
a means of escape. The suits were closing in on them,
the women's high-heeled shoes clicking like gunshots
on the cement pavement.
"Leave us alone!" screamed Cassandra, picking up a
rock and throwing it at one of the women. Surrounded,
the teenagers slowly backed away, before turning and
making a final desperate break for freedom.
They had waited for a moment too late. Both children
cried out in terror as they were grabbed by the suited
men and women and dragged towards the waiting car.
They struggled furiously against their assailants.
Cassandra used the self-defence moves that her mother
had taught her, shins, instep, nose, groin, but to no
avail. Cursing and fighting, the two teens were
bundled into the car and driven away.
Nothing remained of the battle save the whisper of the
breeze, tugging at the trees on the cold autumn day.
-
=========================================
1700h GMT 5:00pm
Friday Evening
Cheyenne Mountain
Dr. Fraiser's Office, The Infirmary, SGC
=========================================
-
Doctor Janet Fraiser sat at her messy excuse for a
desk, dark eyes scanning over the latest reports from
her medical laboratory. The fluorescent glare of the
overhead light cast a bright glow over the cramped
office. This was her sanctuary, a cosy, quiet respite
from the daily stresses of service at the SGC.
The floor was dull grey concrete, the walls, the same
inspiring shade of grey, were decorated here and there
with framed photographs of fighter jets and a master's
degree in Medicine. In one corner of the office was
Janet's desk, surrounded on one side by a bookshelf
overflowing with all sorts of medical paraphernalia.
Beside the blue-painted door was another table,
crowded over with a computer monitor and several
stacks of paper. Mounted on the wall above the table
was a light screen, essential for those times when all
you wanted to do was slap up a couple of x rays and
examine them carefully. All in the comfort of your
own office.
She put down the report and rubbed a hand over her
eyes. SG-1 had returned from Aida - also known as
P7X-832. A routine mission of exploration that lasted
for two weeks. Nothing more, nothing less. Or...so
she hoped. She smiled wryly to herself. Okay, so
maybe that description was overly optimistic. The SG
team in question had a tendency to harbour trouble
wherever they went. It followed their every move like
some bizarre Egyptian Curse.
The petite doctor snorted softly. Egyptian Curse?
Yeah, she had definitely been spending far too much
time around Daniel Jackson...getting, well...Up Close
and Personal, for lack of a better description.
Pushing thoughts of the Archaeologist aside, Janet
returned her attention to the report on her desk. She
chewed thoughtfully on her pen, pondering over the
abnormalities that the medical report presented to
her.
The door to her office opened slowly, gliding on
silent hinges as it let a man in olive-green BDU's
sneak in. She was so absorbed in her papers that she
did not notice him until his hand came to rest lightly
on her shoulder. Startled, she leapt up from her
chair, catching her 'assailant' with a strong
left-hand hook to the jaw.
The poor man stumbled back, cupping his injured jaw in
one hand. "Ow," came his muffled response. "Jeez,
some welcome party I get!" he complained, re-arranging
his glasses so that they rested again over the bridge
of his nose.
The short Doctor gasped, bringing her hands to cover
her mouth as she recognised the miffed face of Daniel
Jackson rubbing his jaw in the middle of her office.
"Daniel! Oh god, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed,
suppressing the laughter that threatened to bubble up
from her chest.
Poor Daniel. He never seemed to be able to do
anything without getting himself injured. Even the
most innocent of objects, for example, a paperclip,
posed a threat to this accident-prone young man.
Knowing Daniel, he'd probably manage to stick it in a
power point and electrocute himself, or something as
equally bizarre.
Doctor Fraiser reached up and gently touched Daniel's
jaw with her hand, checking carefully for any injuries
worse than the bruised ego that her punch may have
caused.
"Some way you have of greeting a guy, Doc." He
grumbled, dropping his head slightly so that the
shorter woman could reach.
"Yeah, well, you should know better than to sneak up
on me like that," she berated, smiling up at his
wonderful light-blue eyes. "What are you doing here
anyway, Daniel?" she questioned. "Your post-mission
exam isn't for another twenty minutes." She released
his jaw and stepped back, satisfied that no harm had
been done.
Daniel stepped forwards with her, slipping his
well-toned arms around her dainty waist. He brushed
her cheek with a chaste kiss as he spoke into her ear.
"It's been two weeks since I last saw you, Doc," he
said, calling her by her pet name. "I didn't want to
wait twenty minutes to hold you in my arms again."
Janet rolled her eyes, smiling. Daniel was quite the
closet romantic when you got to know him "I'm glad to
see you too, Daniel," she said, bringing her hands up
to toy with the buttons of his BDU's.
The blonde Archaeologist dipped his head to kiss her
fingers. His thumbs massaged tiny circles to her skin
through the cotton covering of her uniform and lab
coat. "I missed you so much, love," he murmured,
pulling her closer as he traced tiny kisses along her
jaw. "Aida was an awful planet. No rocks, no
natives, no trees, no nothing. I could hardly wait to
get back to you.”
Janet sighed happily as one of his hands slipped
around to cradle her breast through her blouse. She
longed for his lips to stop wandering over her neck
and just cover his mouth with hers. She stilled his
head against her shoulder with a firm hand. "Daniel,"
she growled, as he began to tell her about the planet
again, "Just shut up and kiss me already."
The taller man laughed, pulling his lover to his chest
and finally kissing her passionately on the lips. Her
hands clenched fistfuls of his uniform, pulling him
closer to her as he sought out the hem of her shirt.
They stumbled backwards together, sitting abruptly
when Daniel's knees came into contact with her desk.
Laughing into his kiss at his inability to remain
uninjured, Janet began unbuttoning the coarse fabric
of Daniel's BDU's. Hoping absently that he had had
the presence of mind to lock the door. Normally she
wouldn't approve of showing her affections while at
work, but this was a special case. It *had* been two
weeks since she'd last seen him, and Daniel was right:
she really had begun to miss him terribly. For that,
she was prepared to make this one sacrifice to her
moral standing.
Finally, Daniel managed to work her blouse free of her
pants. He ran his hands up inside her shirt, fingers
tracing the curves of her breasts with a feather light
touch. Janet moaned, pressing herself closer to him,
revelling in the scent of him and the warmth of his
hands on her body. Reluctantly removing his hands from
underneath her blouse, Janet grasped the bottom of
Daniel's black undershirt and pulled it up and over
his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor beside
the table with his crumpled BDU shirt.
Her eyes dragged appreciatively over his well-muscled
torso. Sure, she had seen it all before, being the
Chief Medical Officer at the base, but that still
didn't dampen the excitement she found, discovering
every inch of his body.
A knock sounded at the door, stopping the couple short
in their embrace.
"Janet? Doc, are you in there?" Came the worried
voice of Major Carter, the female member of SG-1.
Janet groaned quietly, slipping off her lover's lap.
Damn. Just when things were getting interesting, too.
Sharing an exasperated grin with her, Daniel stood up
from his seated position at the table and bent over to
retrieve his uniform, hastily slipping it back on as
Janet re-arranged her blouse and her hair.
"Just a minute, Sam!" called the Doctor, hastily
straightening her lab coat. Daniel moved uneasily
behind her desk, picking up a sheet of paper and
pretending to read it, just as if nothing had been
going on.
Janet grinned, seeing he was just as uncomfortable as
she was, and went to answer the door. "Hey Sam, come
in. How can I help you?"
The tall, blonde Major stepped into the room, brushing
her hands over her pants as a matter of habit. "Hey
Doc, sorry to bother you. But have you seen Dan - "
Samantha looked up then, spotting the Archaeologist
behind the Doctor's desk. "There you are Daniel! We've been looking for you
everywhere," she said in exasperation.
Daniel looked up, totally innocent. "Hmm? Me? What
for?"
Major Carter rolled her eyes, her expression had
'typical!' written all over it. "The briefing,
Daniel. It's been happening for the past five
minutes. You're late!"
Dropping the papers back on the desk, Daniel looked at
the time. Oh shit, he really was late. Moving
quickly over to the door, he thought up a cover story
to tell to the Major. "Oh, sorry, Sam. I just came
in here to show the Doc some things...we must
have...lost track of the time." He shared a nervous
glance with Janet as he followed Carter out of the
door. It was a lame excuse, but it would have to do.
"Thanks for looking at that for me, Doc. I'll see you
soon."
Smiling secretively at him, Janet put her hand on the
door, watching them leave. "Anytime, Doctor Jackson.
I'll talk to you later."
--
===========================
1713h GMT (-0500h) 5:13pm
Friday Evening
Cheyenne Mountain
Briefing Room, SGC
===========================
--
"They brought a WHAT in here?!" demanded the angry
voice of Colonel Jack O'Neill, sitting in front of
General Hammond in the Briefing Room. Directly behind
him, sat Teal'c, a strong, silent Jaffa who wore the
symbol of the Goa'uld on his forehead. To his left,
sat Major Carter. She shot a warning glare in his
direction, reminding him that he was in the presence
of an Air Force General. In front of Sam, sat Daniel
Jackson. His blue eyes darted nervously from Jack to
Sam, to the General, and back again, sitting silently
as he had already arrived late for the meeting.
General Hammond leant forward towards Colonel O'Neill,
pinning the younger man with a stern gaze. The
Colonel never did seem to take news of the Tok'ra very
well. He voiced his opinions about the rebel Goa'uld
as often as he could, claiming that a snake that
claims to have seen the error of their ways and has
repented is still, and always would be, a snake.
"Colonel O'Neill, may I remind you, that we have
pledged an alliance with the Tok'ra in our battle
against the Goa'uld. Now I know that their bringing a
Tok'ra Queen to this base unnerves you, but all they
need is a willing host. The least we could do to help
them is look for such a person. Now I am as
uncomfortable with this as you are, Jack, but I do
believe that it is our responsibility to help them."
The grey-haired Colonel slammed his fist down on the
table in front of him, leaning forward in his chair.
"Damnit Sir, I *know* that we have an alliance, but
what exactly to the Snakeheads expect us to do?" he
demanded. "With all due respect, Sir, how the hell do
they want us to find them a host? Are we going to put
an ad in the New York Times saying 'Wanted: One
healthy Human Being between the ages of twenty to
twenty-five, who is willing to be a host to a snaky,
red-eyed parasite that goes around the universe
pretending to be a God’?” He paused, waving a hand
around in the air for effect. "For crying out loud,
Sir, how are we excepted to make this happen? Do they
want us to kidnap someone?"
General Hammond suppressed a laugh at the Colonel's
description of the advertisement and shook his head.
"Son, frankly, I have no idea," he said. "However, I
will be sending out teams to all of our friendly
planets in search of willing hosts."
The members of SG-1 did not look surprised, nodding
their heads in acceptance.
"SG-1 you have leave until 1030 hours tomorrow
morning. I want to start this mission as soon as
possible, even as we speak, that symbiont is dying.
SG-1 dismissed."
The General was answered with three 'Yes Sir's' from
Carter, Daniel and Teal'c as they got up and left the
room. Colonel O'Neill pushed back from the table with
a disgruntled 'Sir' and then left the room.
Hammond sighed, watching the retreating back of the
facility's most impertinent officer. Rising up from
his chair, he let out a relieved sigh. Well, he
thought. That's the hard part over and done with.
--
=======================
1754h GMT 5:54pm
Friday Night
Cheyenne Mountain
Infirmary, SGC
=======================
--
Flashing a penlight into each of the Colonel's eyes,
Doctor Fraiser stood back and wrote some notes on her
clipboard before picking up a thermometer and sticking
it into the disgruntled man's mouth.
One of her nurses dabbed the Colonel's arm with a bit
of antiseptic and then stabbed a needle in, injecting
a vaccine into his bloodstream. O'Neill flinched,
glaring at the poor nurse as she put a bandage over
the small wound.
Fraiser removed the thermometer from the Colonel's
mouth and recorded the temperature on the clipboard.
"Don't be such a baby, Colonel," she chided, giving a
reassuring smile to the young nurse.
The Colonel grumbled something under his breath,
glaring mildly at her too. "Why do you always have to
stab us with those things?" he complained
rhetorically. "They're not even necessary half the
time, I bet."
The Doctor rolled her eyes patiently. "It's a simple
routine injection, O'Neill. You know very well that
we have to do it. The least you could do is be a
little nicer to my nurses. You never know, I might let
them run loose with you if you don't find some manners
quickly."
O'Neill sighed in defeat and got up off the exam
table, picking up his jacket as he went. An airman
came hurrying over to the exam table, addressing
Doctor Fraiser as he spoke.
"Excuse me Ma'am, but there's a woman on the phone for
you. It's about your daughter, Cassandra. She's gone
missing."
--
=================
1745h GMT 5:45 pm
Friday Night
Cheyenne Mountain
VIP Quarters, SGC
=================
--
The Tok'ras Much'tar and Farwock knocked politely on
Anise's door to summon her to join them in the evening
meal. The Tok'ra dignitaries had been given VIP
accommodation by their hosts at the SGC. Hearing no
reply, the pair knocked again, calling to her through
the door.
"Anise-Freya?" they called. "We are heading to the
Commissary, do you wish to join us?"
Again, they were greeted with silence from the other
side of the door. "Perhaps she rests?" mused Farwock,
glancing at the Tok'ra man beside him. Much'tar
bobbed his head in agreement. "Indeed. Should we not
go in and awaken her? The Bald-Headed one said that
the Commissary closes in half an hour. She will be
hungry if she does not eat."
The Asian-looking Farwock nodded, reaching out to turn
the handle on the door.
The two Tok'ras stepped through the threshold, hoping
to find their fellow Tok'ra inside. Farwock looked in
confusion at his friend. "Anise-Freya is not here,"
he said, stating the obvious.
Much'tar glanced around the room as well. He spotted
the jewelled chest that held their Queen's Canopic jar
standing open on the dresser. "Look," he said,
walking quickly to the chest, "She has left the Royal
Box open."
Farwock came quickly to stand at his side, peering
into the box and then looking to his friend with a
sense of dread. "The Queen's stasis chamber is gone."
Much'tar turned, heading out of the room again. "We
must inform Master Selmac," he said sternly. "He will
not be well pleased."
--
====================
1800h GMT 6:00pm
Friday Night
Cheyenne Mountain
General Hammond's Office, SGC
====================
--
The General sat at his large oak desk. To his right
was his computer, cursor blinking rapidly as he typed
out a letter to the President, recognizing the good
work of his people at the SGC. The General's office
was decorated with all manner of things; mounted on
the wall was a wooden eagle with its wings
outstretched. A symbol of the strength and power of
his beloved US Air Force.
A staccato knock on the door signalled the presence of
Doctor Fraiser, who stepped up to his desk with his
beckoning nod. Shortly after that came another knock.
The three Tok'ra dignitaries, Selmac, Farwock and
Much'tar, filed into the room without even waiting for
permission to enter.
General Hammond looked in confusion to the sudden
influx of visitors to his office. "How may I help you
Doctor Fraiser?" he questioned, deciding to deal with
his visitors in order of appearance.
The auburn haired woman stood at attention in front of
his desk, standing easy when he asked her to speak.
"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you at such short notice,
but something urgent just came up," she said.
The General looked up at the Doctor, noticing the
sparkle of barely restrained panic in her eyes. "What
is it, Major?" he prodded, noticing how her hands
tremored slightly at her side.
"A few minutes ago I received a phone call from
Cassandra's babysitter, Sir. She told me that..." The
woman paused, deciding to cut straight to the chase.
"Cassandra has been kidnapped, Sir. Along with her
friend, Dominic."
The stout General blinked in surprise. The Doctor's
words were certainly not what he had expected. Then
again, the Stargate Programme was not entirely known
for its predicability. Just as he opened his mouth to
reply to Doctor Fraiser, the Tok'ra Selmac cut in.
"General Hammond, if I may interrupt," he rumbled,
stepping forward to the imposing oak desk. "My
assistants Much'tar and Farwock have come to me with
some very troubling news." He turned to gesture to
the two men behind him, "When they went to summon
Anise for her evening meal, they found that she was
not there. When they entered the room to investigate,
they also discovered the Royal Box opened and the
Queen's stasis chamber gone." The old Tok'ra's eyes
dropped to the table. "We have reason to believe that
the disappearance of Doctor Fraiser's daughter and the
Queen's Stasis Chamber can be directly linked to
Anise's absence."
Both the General and the Doctor looked at them then,
Hammond's eyes pinned the Tok'ra with a stern glare.
"Are you trying to tell me that Anise stole the
Canopic Jar and somehow got out of the base unnoticed,
and then managed to kidnap both Cassandra Fraiser and
another civilian...all by herself?"
The Tok'ra shrugged helplessly, nodding affirmatively.
"We are unsure how she may have done it, but that
appears to be what was occurred, General. We are
sincerely and humbly sorry."
The General heard Doctor Fraiser growl something
underneath her breath as she fixed each Tok'ra with an
outraged glare. He placed a restraining hand on her
shoulder, warning her to calm down, before he called
to the Lieutenant standing guard at his door.
"Lieutenant Dyers, send SG-1 in here immediately."
==================
1030h GMT 10:30 am
Saturday Morning
Colorado
Unknown Location
==================
-
Sighing softly, Cassandra fought her way through the
haze of cobwebs that seemed to have overtaken her
brain. She blinked against the bright autumn sunlight
that streamed in from the window, mentally cursing her
mother for opening the curtains while she slept. Just
because her mom was a morning person, didn't mean that
she had to be one too.
She turned her head and buried her nose in the crisp
starchy smell of her pillow. Crisp starchy smell? Her
eyes snapped open, taking in the dull grey concrete of
her surroundings and the metal railings on the gurney
she was lying upon. She realised with a start, that
she wasn't at home anymore.
She shivered, the memories of the four, grey suited
men and women and the silver mercedes that had
abducted her and Dominic. Dominic! she though with a
start, what had they done with Dominic? The
frightened girl tried to sit up, finding to her horror
that she had been handcuffed to the bed with one
wrist.
She heard the click of high heels at the door, a
feeling of dread rushing through her veins that came
from life experience. She could feel its presence,
though her mind told her that it was impossible. A
leather-clad woman stood at the door. No, there was no
way...but it was. A Goa'uld.
Fighting back her terror, Cassandra lifted her eyes to
stare daggers at the Goa'uld woman. "Who the hell are
you and what the fuck do you want with me?" She spat,
wishing desperately that she was not handcuffed to the
bed.
The woman smiled, gently reaching a hand towards her
in what appeared to be a gesture of friendliness.
Cassandra shrugged her off. "Don't you dare touch
me."
The brown-haired woman frowned, dropping her hand.
"Do not be afraid, child. I am not a Goa'uld, I am a
Tok'ra. My name is Anise. You will be of great aid
to me and my people."
Cassandra huffed, fury rapidly replacing her fear.
"The hell you are, lady. A Goa'uld is a Goa'uld. And
you're definitely one of them! There's no way in hell
that I am going to help you."
Anise reached out to take Cassandra's free hand,
stilling it when she tried to pull away. "Child, do
you not know? The Tok'ra are against the Goa'uld. We
fight against them with everything that we have."
"Bullshit, you are," the young teen snarled. "If
you're so nice then why the hell did you kidnap me?
If you're trying to get on my good side, you haven't
done a very good job of it so far."
The Tok'ra smiled, releasing Cassandra's hand. "I am
sorry, child. But there was no other way. You will
realise the wonder of the gift I will give you when it
is time." Cassandra looked disbelievingly at the
leather-clad woman. Sheesh, you'd think she'd have a
better fashion sense being a Goa'uld...
"Whatever, lady. I don't care who or what you are.
But I do know that when my mom finds you she will
severely kick you snaky leather-clad ass."
Anise, seemingly unfazed by the child's insults, went
to the door and talked to someone outside. Cassandra
tugged at the cuffs, trying to think of a plan to
escape. She stopped abruptly when Anise turned back
to face her. "You must be hungry, child. I have sent
for someone to fetch you some breakfast. I would
advise that you eat."
Her captive pouted, an idea formulating in her mind.
"How nice of you," said the young girl, sarcastically.
"Either way, I gotta go to the bathroom."
The Tok'ra puffed out a breath at the uncooperative
child, taking a key out of one of her skin-tight
pockets and unlocking the cuff, placing the open end
around her wrist. "As you wish. Follow me, I will
show you the way."
Cassandra sighed, following Anise through the dull
concrete corridors until they stopped in front of a
door. The Tok'ra gestured for her to go in, but
Cassandra stopped short, lifting their cuffed wrists
to the woman's brown eyes. "I don't know about you,
lady, but there is no way in hell that I'm going to
pee with an audience. Being in the same house with my
mom and her boyfriend in the next room is sickening
enough."
"As you wish." The Tok'ra replied grudgingly,
unlocking the cuff to leave it dangling from
Cassandra's wrist. "But do not try to escape."
Cassandra fluttered her lashes sweetly. "I wouldn't
dream of it."
--
=================
1030h GMT 10:30 am
Saturday Morning
Cheyenne Mountain
Briefing Room, SGC
=================
--
Eight pairs of eyes followed the Colonel closely as he
paced back and forth inside the Briefing Room. SG-1,
the Tok'ra, Doctor Fraiser and General Hammond were
gathered together trying to figure out how Anise had
left the base unnoticed and what her intentions were
with Cassandra and the Tok'ra Queen.
Major Carter sat forward in her chair, speaking to the
rapidly moving Colonel O'Neill. "She must have had
some outside help from somewhere," she mused. "She
couldn't have kidnapped two children off the streets
all by herself. Let alone known specifically where
she could take them from without having any
witnesses."
The Colonel paused in his pacing and turned to face
the people gathered at the table. "Maybourne," he
growled. "He's got to have something to do with
this."
"Colonel, what makes you so sure?" Intoned Hammond,
tilting his bald head in question.
O'Neill threw his hands up in front of him, "Oh I
don't know, Sir," he said with a hint of sarcasm,
"maybe the fact that he and those thugs from the NID
are so eager to get themselves an alien to interrogate
that - "
He was cut off mid sentence as Selmac interrupted him.
"Perhaps Anise kidnapped the girl as part of a deal
with this NID that you mention. It makes sense. The
NID get their alien to interrogate, and the Queen gets
a suitable host."
Hearing those words, Doctor Fraiser, whom had remained
silent for most of the meeting jumped in, barely
restrained anger tightening her voice. "Woah, woah,
woah!" she said. "Are you trying to say that Anise is
going to implant *my* daughter with a Goa'uld?"
"A Tok'ra Queen, Doctor," Selmac corrected.
Janet swiped her hand through the air in a violent
motion. "Queen, Tok'ra, Goa'uld, whatever! Either
way, one of your people has kidnapped my daughter and
is probably going to put a snake in her head!"
Major Carter touched Janet gently on the arm, giving
her a look that pleaded for her to calm down. The
Doctor sat down abruptly, the frustration of not being
able to help her daughter evident on her face.
The people gathered looked to the General for his
decision. "Well people, it looks like we have a
situation on our hands. If Anise really does intend
to implant a Goa'uld into Cassandra, then we must find
her and stop her before she does. Secondly, Jack, I
think you should follow up on that possible lead you
have with Maybourne. SG-1, you have my full
permission to take whatever means is necessary to find
Anise and Cassandra and bring them back to the base
under custody."
He paused, looking through his mind for anything that
he may have missed. The imploring stare of
Cassandra's mother, from where she sat at the opposite
end of the table, caught him. He sighed. "And yes,
Doctor Fraiser, you may go with them too."
-
======================
1059h GMT 10:59am
Saturday Morning
Colorado
Unknown Location
======================
-
Anise tapped her high-heeled toe impatiently outside
the door of the bathroom. The child was taking
entirely too long in the bathroom. She was probably
up to no good. "Child, I tire of waiting for you,
finish up in there!" she called, waiting for the
sarcastic reply.
There was none. Huffing in anger, Anise threw open
the door, in time to see the young girl as she
scrambled out of the window. The Tok'ra woman rushed
forward, grabbing the child by the arm and dragging
her back inside as she kicked and screamed
incessantly.
"Mal hock tar!" she cursed at the child. "You are
more badly behaved than any other child I have had to
deal with. The Queen will not be pleased."
Cassandra struggled against the woman's painful grip
on her arm as she dragged her back to the room and
handcuffed her to the bed again. "I don't give a
flying fuck about your Queen, you freak!" she cried,
managing to slap the woman hard across the nose.
The Tok'ra swore at her again, and with a squeak of
leather and the tap of heels on concrete, swept
grandly out of the room.
"Bitch," muttered Cassandra.
--
Cassandra sat on the bed, in anger, for ten minutes
after that. She was hungry, and she was as mad as
hell. That Goa'uld woman...or Tok'ra or whatever the
hell it was she called herself, had lied about her
breakfast. Not that she would have eaten anything
from that bitch anyway. She wondered idly where it
was that they were holding her, and wherever it was
that they had put Dominic. She'd feel better if
Dominic were in here with her, she thought. Together
they could come up with a plan to kick these people’s
asses and get themselves the hell outta dodge.
She was broken away from her thoughts as the Tok'ra
bitch returned to her room. Behind her was a man
dressed in white nurse's scrubs, pushing along a
metallic trolley with a sandstone coloured jar and
several nasty-looking medical things.
Sensing the feeling of dread again, Cassandra drew
back against the wall to curl herself up into a
protective ball. "What the hell do you want now?" she
asked, shooting daggers at the nurse and the Evil
Bitch Tok'ra.
The woman said nothing, instead she took the
sandstone-coloured jar and removed the lid.
Cassandra's eyes widened in horror as she pulled out
the writhing, snake-like symbiont of a Goa'uld.
"Get that thing away from me!” Cassandra screamed,
pushing herself as far back as she could against the
wall.
Anise held the symbiont up to Cassandra's face,
smiling gently. "Do not be afraid, child," she said
sweetly. "This is Queen Al-Quasa're of the Tok'ra.
You will make for her an excellent host."
"NO!" Screamed Cassandra, squirming to get away from
the writhing Goa'uld. The Tok'ra woman frowned,
speaking to the nurse. "Have her strapped to the bed.
Her struggling will distress the Queen." The nurse
nodded, and began strapping the girl to the bed as
Anise filled a needle with an amber-coloured sedative.
She felt the sharp sting in her arm as Anise injected
her with the sedative. The last thing she saw before
being pulled into the blackness was the unearthly
flash of little red eyes as the Goa'uld writhed in
front of her.
--
Part 2
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