Chapter Two

Detection

The first month aboard Klorel's ship was one of the hardest months Laelia had ever been through. She was use to being able to do what she wanted whenever she wanted to do it. She did not have that luxury on the ship, but it helped to be one of Klorel's favorites. She had a more free reign than most. The only bad side to that was that she also had to spend a lot of time with him. During that time she had to keep a peaceful façade while the violence threatened to creep up from inside. Having to be close to him without having the means to end him frustrated her. She wanted him gone from existence, but thus far come up short on how.

She had gotten there and now it was time for her to figure out how to make sure her plan was carried out. She could not have brought a weapon with her because it would have been found quite easily if she had been searched and she was sure they had ways of detecting such objects anyway. It was only a matter of being patient and waiting until the right time arose. She would strike then, and only then. To do so before would not only be suicide, but she would fail and she could not due knowing she had not avenged Loren.

Her days were mostly spent doing little errands for minor Goa'uld aboard the ship or lounging in her quarters when she wasn't helping Klorel learn his assigned text. At first she was able to ignore the long watchful stares, but after a few weeks she found herself growing more and more uncomfortable under his dark-eyed gaze. She tried not to show it, but she believed that somehow he knew exactly what he was doing to her. He made her sick, but at the same time he made her tremble. What was it about him that caused her to feel such extremes.

Hatred. Attraction.

In Laelia's case it would probably end fatally.

Great, the teenager thought in misery, letting herself relax back on Klorel's lavish bed while she waited him. He was in some kind of meeting - - or maybe he was off harassing some of the less fortunates.

Who knew?

Her mind was wandering along the desert of despair and confusion, her thoughts centering on the Goa'uld warrior. When she didn't have to look at him she knew her mission clearly, felt it strong in her heart, but when her eyes fell upon him she wasn't so sure anymore. Everything just felt off.

Heh, she thought, raking her slender fingers through her reddish brown hair, it's almost like you don't know whether you want to kill him or screw him. That was the blunt of it. She had finally come out and said it to herself. She didn't want to admit she had any kind of feelings for him, but in a way she did.

Was it fear? Was she making up reasons not to kill him and put herself in danger? Or was it something even worse, something unthinkable? Was she actually beginning to care for the monster that murdered her brother? No, absurd. There was something else. All her life she had listened to her instincts, this time was no different. Something was holding her back, telling her she needed to lay low and wait. Wait for what? That's what she wanted to know.

She didn't have to wait long for the answer.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laelia had found increasing difficulty in sleep. She did not know whether it was because of the cold that permeated parts of the ship or the fact that she had to slumber so closely to people she didn't know, people she didn't trust. She guessed it really didn't matter what the reason was, the fact of the matter was she was seriously sleep deprived and it was starting to show. Her eyes were closed and she was curled around one of Klorel's fancy pillows. She had pulled it against her while she slept. It was the first time since she had arrived that she was in peace.

It was quiet in Klorel's chambers and isolated, making it easy for her to catch up on her much needed rest. She didn't hear the door slide open and the light footsteps growing closer. A hand lightly touched her cheek, brushed aside her hair. "Laelia." She didn't respond to the soft low voice. "Laelia." A little louder, but still no reaction.

Finally a shadow drifted across her sleeping form and lips descended upon hers. A sweet sensation raced through her and she shivered. She responded, her arms wrapping around her partner's neck. Her eyes blinked a few times as she woke. Klorel? It took her a few seconds for everything to sink in to her mind. This wasn't a dream. She jumped up, shoving him away with a gasp. She was too shocked to even be disgusted by the invasion of privacy. Her thoughts were reeling from the fact that just below the surface she had known who it was - - and she had wanted it.

She slid down onto the floor, leaning her back against the edge of the bed. She more than expected immediate punishment for that not so nice push she gave him. Instead there was a minute of silence, after which she was surprised to feel hands enclosing hers.

"You do not need to fear me? Why do you refuse me, Laelia?"

She raised her face at this. Was that hurt in his voice? He was beside her now, his eyes searching for hers. "I do not fear you." Laelia said. I hate you. I hate you even more so because I want you. "And I do not refuse you. I just - -"

"I should not have done that."

"No, no, I was just startled." Laelia replied. She was a little confused about all of this. What was he playing at? Was he just pretending in an attempt to lure her into his good graces so that he could easily seduce her? Or was he really truly having a moment of uncharacteristic decency? Either way, it wouldn't hurt to have a small game of her own. "It's all right, really. Where were you? What took you so long to get here?"

He looked away, a cold silence drifting into the air. "I was speaking with my father." He answered. That seemed to be a good enough answer.

"Oh." Laelia said. "Was he angry about something, you don't seem yourself." Indeed, he seemed quiet.

"He is never pleased." And that was all. Apparently he didn't want to talk about it. For the first time Laelia actually felt sorry for him. He was always trying so hard to be exactly who, or what, his father wanted him to be and he was always falling short.

"But I am pleased."

His eyes met hers. There was a light there that could not be hidden by the darkness of the Goa'uld evil. She thought about it every now and then, speculated about it. She had her suspicions, but it didn't matter. There was nothing she could do about it even if she was right.

No matter how much she wanted to.

A hand touched her cheek, his skin moving lightly against hers. His hands were slightly rough, calloused. They were not the hands of a Goa'uld prince, they were the hands of a worker. Laelia wondered who his host had been before he had been jerked out of his life. Where was he from? What part of society was he from? Did he have family? Friends? … A lover?

Once again, it did not matter she supposed. Even if she wished to she could not save him. Killing Klorel was a big enough challenge, but rescuing his captive host was impossible. Her brethren, the Tok'ra had ways of removing a symbiote; the problem was getting someone to them. If it was that easy then the Goa'uld would be in trouble.

Klorel had just taken his host a year, perhaps two years ago. The chances of his conscious still being fully intact and sane was good.

Stop it, Laelia. It's IMPOSSIBLE.

"If you are pleased then all is well." Klorel said, the sultry quality to his voice sending shivers through her body. He lifted her face with his thumb and forefinger before lowering his mouth to cover hers.

For all the logic in Laelia's mind she could never seem to remember any of it when he touched her, when he kissed her. This time her mind was clouded with thoughts of Klorel's host. She drug up a fantasy in her mind to lift herself from the thought of this intimacy with Loren's murderer. Klorel was gone and she was left with his endearing prisoner, his rugged beauty, his perfect body, and his rose-petal soft lips that transcended all definitions of sweet.

Oh, god, how she wished that was real…

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're not paying attention again."

"Of course I am." Klorel said innocently. Yet another week had passed and the two of them were almost through with the text he was supposed to be studying.

"No, you're not." Laelia scolded. "You're staring off into space."

"No. I'm staring at you." He replied. He was trying to be cute. It wasn't working. Laelia pretended, but never fell for it. She knew what he was, and nothing would take away that knowledge no matter how charming he acted.

Once again she played the game. She wagged her finger at him. "No. Not going to work. We both know you have to get this done." He looked like a sad puppy, his dark eyes wide and pleading. His fingers reached out to brush through her hair. Shit. "Fine." She said. "Take a break." She smiled, but thought. Who's the pet now, Laelia?

However, Klorel never got his break. Once more they were interrupted by one of his guards. His words chilled Laelia's soul. "We have found the Tok'ra spy, my lord."

Jansen. Oh, god, no.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jansen was dragged into the room, for he could barely walk. He looked like he had already been badly beaten. They had probably tried to force him to talk about the other Tok'ra. Laelia didn't have to think about how that ended. Jansen, like most of the Tok'ra, would never endanger the others. He would die first, not that he didn't already look close to it. The guards unceremoniously dropped him onto the hard floor

"Jansen." Klorel left Laelia's side and moved to stand over her fallen compatriot. There was an arrogant sneer in his voice as if he had known all along who Jansen was. He might have. "He refused to tell us anything?" He asked his guards. As Laelia suspected that was affirmative.

As Klorel spoke on, reveling in the capture of one of the spies on board Laelia let her eyes wander to meet Jansen's. He tried not to show any recognition as he looked up at her. One of his eyes was swollen and blood leaked from a wound on his lip. He looked the cliché of black and blue. Part of her wanted to look away, the other half knew that would just be like turning her back on him. She knew Jansen wouldn't want her to do anything rash to try and rescue him. He would most likely strictly forbid it.

She wondered briefly if this was her fault.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Klorel addressed her. "Laelia, isn't this most disappointing that one of my best soldiers would betray me?" The tips of his fingers brushed sensuously along her neck before touching his lips to her bare shoulder. She saw Jansen stiffen.

Oh, Gods, he's going to think the worst.

Not that it really mattered.

In an instant Klorel had already moved away from her. "Well, I suppose, unfortunately, there is only one thing I can do." He raised his hand and the device that adorned his right arm began to glow.

No… Laelia thought desperately. She knew what he was going to do. Her eyes flickered uneasily between him and Jansen, who looked resigned to his fate.

And then something happened. For a moment Klorel seemed frozen, as if confused. Laelia's eyes widened when she looked at him. The host. He had stopped Klorel for an instant, but only just. The moment was over and Klorel was back. He blinked a few times, pushing the other mind back. He looked frustrated - - and even more intent on torturing Jansen.

"Kill me, Klorel." Jansen said. "But more will come."

That was the day Jansen died.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was one thing to hear about the atrocities of the Goa'uld, but it was another to witness it first hand. It was horrible either way, but it really hit home to see it with your own eyes, and especially to one that you had known. From that day forward she looked upon Klorel with a completely different view. She no longer had any kind of compassion for him, but her plan had changed. There could be no doubt now about the conscious existence of his host. He was there - - and he was still fighting.

She wanted to free him. And she would do what it took.

She began forming her plan soon after Jansen was killed, and completed only a few short weeks later. She had been able to contact one of the other Tok'ra on the ship and convince him to help her. She was going to lure Klorel close enough to either the Stargate on board or a glider, and then with her agent's help she would temporarily knock him out and escape. She wanted to leave this place as soon as she could. She had stayed longed enough, and seen too much.

Excitement over. I want to go home. Oh, Martouf, I miss you… Do you even know I'm still alive?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laelia was never able to set her plan in motion. She was wakened early one morning and dragged through the corridors into Klorel's empty chamber's to await his arrival. They knew who she was.

And she was in deep shit…

Finally I finished the next chapter. I was stuck on the last couple of scenes. Sorry. Hope you're still reading this. R&R, as usual.

I have mapped out the rest of this story. The chapters (as of now) are what follows:

Prologue: Enemy
Chapter One : Infiltration
Chapter Two: Detection
Chapter Three: Crash
Chapter Four: Skaara
Chapter Five: Captivation
Chapter Six: Trickery
Chapter Seven: The Tok'ra
Chapter Eight: The End?

Of course I may add a chapter somewhere, but I dunno yet. I can't remember whether I said or not, but this is the beginning of a trilogy. There will be two more stories staring Laelia and our beloved Skaara! Yay!

- - Muse

P.S. I've also got a Stargate site popping up soon when I'm able to make the finishing touches if anyone's interested.

C-YA