A/N: A few words of thanks: to Eze for the post. I greatly appreciate the time you spent on telling me what you think of the story. Straitjackit, for her unlimited supply of optimism. Matute for everything and Keiko's got one very reliable pet owner, if I may say so. LOL! Right now, my job is taking too much of my time that it's eating up the time I set aside for writing this story. I'm afraid I won't be able to keep up with my weekly updates in a few weeks but I'd still try.
Sorry if I was not able to post this last Saturday as promised. My apologies to straitjackit and matute. As for the identity of the new Goa'uld… I'm not going to describe him yet nor am I going to reveal his name til later. All part of the suspense. :)
OT: I would just like to thank nannon for the review posted on Search Party.
Chapter Spoiler: Metamorphosis & Homecoming
10
As First Prime, it was Kalen's foremost duty to always be by his master's side. He was privy of things no other Jaffa in the god's "household" would ever be and prided himself in this. He also got to watch his master at work in close proximity, always in awe of him. A great thinker and master strategist, Kalen wouldn't dream of serving another god in his stead. His happiness would have been complete if not for the fact that he was sharing the limelight with that woman.
But today, she had been given another task to do and so would not be around for a while. This he welcomed with relish.
As the lead scientist left the chamber, his master completely lapsed into silence, seeming to contemplate on what the small man had just revealed to them.
"Are you certain of your findings, Nibiru?"
The scientist had slowly dipped his head in confirmation. "We have tested the samples Lady Maya acquired a few days ago from Nirrti's storehouse several times, your Lordship." He'd replied. "And always with the same results."
"Impossible," the Goa'uld uttered, surprise evident in his voice.
"We also thought so, my lord." The other was quick to agree. "But the results speak for themselves."
"Are there no evidence of the crystal being damaged at all?"
Nibiru had shook his head. "None, my lord. Nirrti had done a good job of taking care of it. The marks we've earlier detected on the crystal surface suggest that it had been used only once."
"To take a sample of her specimen's genetic make-up for further use before she begins tampering with it."
Kalen smiled smugly as he remembered the bewildered expression on the scientist's face. His master had a knack for surprising others with what he knew. Indeed, the greatest of all the gods. He knew everything that should be known and left the mundane tasks to those who served under him.
And the marks that were found gave a clear indication that Nirrti had only had time to input the initial information regarding the Tau'ri before she was killed.
"My team and I are completely baffled by it, my lord." Nibiru had said, bowing low in apology. "We simply cannot explain how it came to appear in Jonas Quinn's. Although this means only one thing…"
"What other data have you gathered?"
Nibiru had then stopped for a moment to recollect his thoughts. "Nirrti stated that the Tau'ri has a very different physiology. Unlike any other she had seen. That he is a viable candidate to become her Hok'taur once trained and his powers unleashed to its full potential. But nothing further was said, I don't know if the experiment was a success."
"Run another round of tests, Nibiru, and report back to me."
"Yes, my lord," the small had man purred. "For certain, Lady Maya would be pleased – "
"No. Tell her nothing of it. Not until I say so."
It all started out simple enough with the capture of Anubis' First Prime on an uninhabited planet where a trap was laid out for him. There really was no SG-1. It was the bait and Anubis was fool enough to take it. They had learned some months ago that Anubis had left his realm with his newest arsenal and with more than a thousand Jaffas in his command to some part of the galaxy; only to return in his personal ship with nothing but ten Jaffas with him. All because of an element called naquadria.
Intrigued, the Goa'uld wanted to learn of its location and the only way to obtain it was by capturing Anubis' most trusted right-hand: the Jaffa named Herak.
And during their "talk" his master had accidentally stumbled upon Anubis' fascination with two individuals belonging to SG-1: Daniel Jackson and Jonas Quinn.
Of Daniel Jackson, they already gathered a wealth of information. But of Jonas Quinn, information was scarce.
And if what Nibiru and his scientists had discovered were true, his master's plans would dramatically change from here onwards. Harvesting the naquadria on a place called Kelowna would become secondary compared to this latest discovery. To think that after centuries of searching the galaxy in futility and later thought to be gone forever, proof of its existence literally landed straight in his master's lap. If this was the case, then nothing could prevent him from claiming what was rightfully his.
"Hok'taur," the System Lord sneered. "Poor Nirrti had no idea what she had stumbled upon." He beckoned Kalen nearer. "Has everyone accepted your invitation, Kalen?"
"All, except for one, my lord."
The Goa'uld idly waved a hand. "No matter," he said, indifferently. "Send an urgent message to everyone that capturing the Tau'ri Jonas Quinn alive and relatively unharmed will now be given special priority. And," he raised one elegant finger to emphasize his last sentence, "inform them that money will not be an option."
"What of the other Tau'ri, the one named Daniel Jackson?" His master had ordered both men captured and be brought to him.
"I have no more use of him." The Goa'uld replied. "However, I could always hand him over to Anubis as a gift to show my appreciation to his First Prime for being so… accommodating."
- - - o 0 o - - -
Ever since she was a kid, U.S. Air Force Major Samantha Carter, Ph.D., had never been one to believe in hearsay that easily. She was a scientist and scientists believed in corroborated facts. She had no use for rumours and old wives tales but, in the seven years that she had been with the Program Sam had, if not believed them, at least come to respect them.
But when it comes straight from her commanding officer, Colonel O'Neill's mouth she, if not completely ignore it, would probably ask for proof. Normally for a lot of them. The man had this irritating tendency to make things blow all out of proportion and that's when her hardcore scientist persona tends to kick in.
Voices floated down the corridor to her right on her way back to her lab. She wouldn't have given it any thought were it not for the fact that she could distinctly hear Jonas talking to someone. They seem to be coming from his newly refurbished office. She couldn't make out what they were talking about, but based from her friend's harassed tone, he seems to be –
Angry? Sam frowned. Now that's not right, Jonas was never angry. She decided to investigate to see if she was right.
It had only been a few minutes ago when they had last seen each other and that was down one of the base's sub-sublevels where the two of them, and a team of engineers, were experimenting on the possibility of enhancing the energy output of a naquadah generator double the normal level.
"No!" cried Jonas. His next words were incoherent as he'd lowered his voice to an almost murmur.
That caused Sam to quicken her pace, brows furrowed. Something was definitely going on and she wanted to know what. She was almost at the open doorway when an unfamiliar voice growled menacingly saying something in an alien tongue and that was when she decided to barge in unannounced.
Sam's words died in her throat when she saw who Jonas was arguing with. Rhougan Dubois. Wasn't he supposed to still be on Kelowna? But the surprise she felt was nothing compared to the startled look on Jonas' face when he turned to look around. "Hey," Sam softly said, nodding at Jonas. She turned cold blue eyes at the man standing behind her friend. "Everything all right?"
"Yeah," Jonas quickly replied, trying to sound like nothing was amiss. "Rhougan had just returned. We were just discussing something and found out that we have a difference in opinion." He sported a smile but Sam wasn't fooled for a second.
The aide remained silent as he watched the two of them, his face impassive. Her conversation with the Colonel a few days ago played on her head as she continued staring at the older man until he turned away to inspect an artefact in one of the boxes on Jonas' table.
"Wanna join me in the commissary?" Sam really wasn't hungry but she would do anything to get Jonas away from this man. Whatever they were "discussing" seemed to agitate her young friend and that kicked her protective mechanism into overdrive.
Jonas turned to look uncertainly at Rhougan. Either to seek his permission to go or hesitant to leave his aide behind, Sam wasn't sure. But the latter was not giving them any notice as he continued scrutinizing the artefact in his hand.
"Yeah, sure." Jonas finally told her. He was almost at the door when Rhougan finally spoke.
"Kinpa,"
Her friend whirled around to face the room with Sam right behind him.
"Sonu ahwu ne er wun fidelo, netcheset." Rhougan quietly said.
Sam frowned and looked at Jonas whose face was livid with anger. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and turned to her. "Let's go, Sam."
She wanted to ask what Rhougan had said but one look at his flushed face, Sam thought she'd let it go, for now. She had never seen Jonas like this before and that worried her.
"I'm telling you, there's something about that guy I don't like."
"You never did like anyone on first meet, Colonel."
She'd never really believed in hearsay, more so when it comes from her commanding officer. But maybe, this time, the Colonel might be right about this one.
- - - o 0 o - - -
A sharp, rhythmic tapping sound echoed across the high-ceilinged hallway of the science building. The sound was produced by a dark, mahogany-coloured walking stick carved out of a very rare type of tree that once grew in abundance on the central plains of Kelowna. It's bearer, as a child, grew up in one of these places. A small farming community miles away from the nearest city.
The sound continued as the old man walked in quick, uneven strides, not really looking to where he was going. He knew the place by heart. Had spent more than half of his life within these halls, preparing each new generation on how to survive the outside world and to begin making their own destinies. Nothing could compare to the feeling of accomplishment a person of his profession does whenever they see their students succeed in life.
But now he felt like an utter failure. To himself and, most of all, to Jonas Quinn.
For days now, he'd wished to have a private audience with First Minister Dreylock but the head-of-state was always away. It had nothing to do with the Enosh project that the young ambassador had left in his care before he'd left for Earth but, it was also of equal importance.
Aradaean Vinril was sorry to see Jonas go for the second time. But he knew that it was for the best and that the young man was among friends who had taken care of him during his exile. When Jonas came to see him very early that fateful day, he was so excited and could not wait to assume his role as Ambassador to Earth and Vinril was happy for him, too. But when he'd learned that the Ambassador's aide, Rhougan Dubois was also coming along, Vinril could not help voicing out his concerns to Dreylock.
To his disbelief, the First Minister had defended the man and tried to assure the professor that everything was all right. That what Rhougan had done in the past was what he'd thought was best for everyone concerned.
Traitor, that's what he is. Vinril thought angrily. A traitor to his friend's son.
The aged man was never one to curse but he could not help it as he mentally berated himself for not doing it sooner. Recalling the many times he had been given the opportunity to do so but was cowardly enough not to take the chances. Vinril wanted to protect Jonas. And now, when his protection was needed the most, he was unable to provide it. He now feared though that it may be too late.
From the first moment he'd laid eyes on Jonas Quinn, newly orphaned and barely sixteen, Vinril had sensed something different about him. An aura, if you will. An air of benevolence, of intelligence, of quiet strength and nobility that rivalled those that descended from the elite classes of their society.
And Jonas Quinn did not disappoint. He was always at the top of his class and excelled in all fields that he entered without effort at all. Vinril and his wife would've adopted him but Jonas already had a guardian.
The corridors were empty as the students were all out on the grounds, enjoying the late afternoon sun after days of continuous rain pouring down from the heavens.
I should have somehow warned him, he thought. When Jonas thought he was bringing a friend and an ally, he had instead brought along the very thing that could destroy him. Ah, Keiran, what have I done?
The professor went up the short flight of stairs to reach the laboratory section of the building. His office was located at the end of it and as he went nearer, the old man noticed something wrong. Narrowing his eyes, he spied that his door slightly ajar.
He glanced about to see if there was another soul there with him but all the other doors were securely locked for the coming weekend. Whoever broke into his office must be long gone by now what with all the ruckus he'd made in coming there. But still… He shoved the thoughts that weighed heavily on his mind aside as Vinril held his walking stick club-like in front of him before nudging the door with the tips of his fingers. The door gave no resistance and slowly swung open.
"Putrisqua,"
His office was in complete disarray. Drawers had been pulled out; cabinets opened and emptied of their contents. Papers and shards of glittering broken glass scattered everywhere. Liquids of varying colours spilled on the tables and on the floor. Most were absorbed by the papers strewn near them. And in the far corner, his table had been upended.
Vinril quickly hobbled near his table, frantically searching through the chaos and finally found what he was looking for – a framed photograph of a beautiful woman sitting demurely on one of the low-lying branches of a tree. With sorrowful eyes, the professor brushed a trembling hand at the remaining glass that clung to the frame and sighed heavily. He turned old grey eyes to inspect what remained of his once neatly kept office.
What could these men have possibly wanted? There was nothing here. All the important documents he always left at home. But what were they looking for in particular?
The blueprints. They're after the blueprints!
He thought he heard a voice whisper gently into his ear. He glanced down at the photograph still in his hand as the words started to sink in.
"Putrisqua!" he cursed in panic. He walked out of the room as fast he could, not letting go of the picture frame, as his old heart began to beat madly against his rib cage. He must alert the others before it is too late.