Chapter 4: Captured.

Pirate came to with a start and a groan as the lingering pain from the Zat blast hit him. He shook it off, and looked around the cell, noting that all of RSG-1 was present and slowly waking back up. He looked closer at the walls and cursed, this didn't appear to be the old temple on PC-49X, this looked a lot like the inside of a Goa'uld ship.

"Not good" he noted, and then moved to wake the rest of the team up, "Wakey Wakey, rise and shine cos the shit just hit the fan, and we're covered in it."

"Shit, remind me never to get Zatted again." Pierce rose to her feet, glanced around the room and the solid looking door, and cursed, she hated getting captured.

"Fine, I'll ask the next group of Jaffa nicely to use their staff weapons instead of the zats shall I?"

"Can the sarcasm, Brown." Pierce glared at the captain, before returning to her inspection of the room.

A clunk in the ceiling made RSG-1 look up as a small object dropped through the hastily closed opening, Brown glanced at it and cursed, knowing what was gonna happen next;

"Well, Shit!" A flash filled the room and RSG-1 fell unconscious to the floor they had only just risen from.

Pirate once again awoke first, with a curse as he tested the straps holding him to the cold solid marble table. He glanced around the room and noted quickly the solid gold walls and floors, the Goa'uld markings, and the Jaffa guards who had the mark of a snake branded into their foreheads. Pirate glanced closer at the mark; it wasn't a mark he had been shown in their briefing on the snakes, which meant a new Goa'uld to deal with, perfect. Well, he noted as he glanced to the sides, at least the teams all here.

Pirate waited patiently as the rest of the team woke up, muttering comments about paracetamols and hangovers. He wished fervently that it was that simple, if a Parrcetamol could get them out of this…

"What the hell was that?" Pickstock cursed; trying to bring his hands far enough up so that he could hold his head against the pain.

"Shock grenade" Brown replied.

"Well, Shit!"

"Silence!" the shout boomed through the room from the Jaffa guards on the door as the clumping sound of approaching Jaffa echoed through the room. The door opened and twenty Jaffa stepped in, lining the room, their zats pointed directly at RSG-1 as they lay strapped to the tables. Behind them came a tall wizened man in radiant purple silk robes with flashing eyes.

"I find myself in need of a new host." the Goa'uld spoke, his voice guttural and cruel-sounding, "Which one of you shall have the honour of serving your God?"