A/N: Many, many thanks for the reviews! Ah, you do my little heart good. This chapter's a bit longer and should help establish what in the world is going on. Please continue your kind comments, knowing how much they're appreciated. –your humble author.

Into the Black Light

Daniel woke up, groggy and disoriented. They had been running from the guards when an awful burning sensation knocked him off his feet and then…nothing. Where were Colonel O'Neill and the other two? Where was he? Were they here? More importantly, why was "here" a box?

He gasped when an exceptionally large Jaffa peered into the sarcophagus, along with a staff weapon pointed at the prisoner. He grunted, said something unintelligible, and motioned for Daniel to get up. He did so cautiously.

Hadn't he…hadn't he been shot? With that stick thing? Oh my gosh! He was dead! Except he wasn't. Danny stopped suddenly, then quickly checked himself over, looking like a dog chasing its tail. How was this possible? He knew one of those blasts had killed him. He turned to the guard, then pointed at the box.

The guard—who seemed to be doubting Daniel's sanity—replied in a word that was almost familiar. Almost. So he pointed again and the guard repeated himself (this time nearly certain that his prisoner was crazy).

"Baltukimah."

Baltukimah? A moment passed, but in that moment some circuit switched itself on and Daniel knew exactly what the guard had said. That was Sumerian! He understood. He couldn't explain how he knew; he had learned Sumerian a few years ago. Or, rather, a few years plus seven. But Danny knew he wasn't a good enough linguist yet to decipher the idiosyncrasies of its changes on this planet—change over time and the influence of one or two other languages. Still, his confusion didn't matter in comparison with his joy. He could finally communicate!

"Baltukimah," he repeated. "Baltu…living. Kimah means tomb. Living tomb. What on Earth is a living tomb? It looks kinda like an ancient sarcophagus," he observed, walking slowly around. "Although I don't remember any I ever saw bringing people back to life. Wait! That must be how I got killed and then got…unkilled." He shook his head. "Is nothing simple anymore?"

The Jaffa suddenly poked him with the staff weapon, pulling the young archaeologist back into his present circumstances. "Alka."

"Alka…come."

Having no desire to be killed a fifth time and filled with curiosity and a newfound strength from the ability to communicate, Daniel followed the guard.

Jack crawled out of the water at the Stargate but didn't get up. He just lay there, wet, panting, cold, and fighting back the urge to sob. He had promised to protect Daniel! Why had he not fought Dr. Frasier and General Hammond harder on letting Danny come? Why had he even come up with that stupid escape plan? How many times now had he been forced to lose his friend?

"Colonel! Where's Daniel?"

He looked up, his expression a mixture of fury and self-loathing. "Dead."

Sam almost fell and Teal'C's stoicism melted. Neither had seen the event. "Dead?"

"Was he not right behind us, O'Neill? Are you certain?"

Jack got up and walked to the DHD, followed closely by Teal'C and Carter. "I'm positive. He got hit in the back with a staff weapon blast. There's no day he could survive that. I saw smoke rising from him," Jack added through clenched teeth, ignoring the sting of tears. A string of expletives followed, along with a number of kicks to the DHD's base.

"Sir, Daniel may very well be alive. My leg had what must have been a fourth degree burn only hours ago. Besides, quit kicking the DHD or we might never get out of here."

That had Jack's attention. "What happened to your leg?"

"I got shot by a staff weapon, too, and passed out. When I woke up, my leg was as good as new. They must have a sarcophagus or some sort of healing device. Colonel, if they used it on me, I'm sure they'll use it on him."

There was hope? All right, that made his decision. They'd stay, go back to the village, and rescue Daniel. He wasn't sure how or from whom or with what, but if even a sliver of a chance existed that Daniel was alive and could be rescued, Jack knew he'd give his life for it.

"All right, Carter—you send a message to General Hammond through the Gate, letting him know what we're doing. That'll also make the natives think we've gone back. Then we'll move in a wide arc, back towards the village. We need to remain unnoticed. Let's get to it."

Daniel stood in what could only be described as opulence. The whole room decorated in gold and silver with purple tapestries strewn around appropriately. An imposing, but empty, throne took up the far end, about two feet above everything else. Daniel was before it, being carefully watched by two guards at the back of the room and the two next to him. He wondered what gave them the impression he could fight one, let alone four, Jaffa warriors. He turned to his left and the only familiar face.

"I'm Daniel." He pointed to himself. "Dan-yihl."

Suspicious but intrigued, the guard from the sarcophagus room answered, "Ekur."

"Ekur…okay. Where am I?"

"You come but you do not know where you are? This is Shin'ar."

"Silence!" A ridiculously large Jaffa commanded as he entered. At least seven feet tall with biceps like a side of beef. Suddenly, Daniel found himself forced to his knees as yet another person entered. This man was smaller, but more commanding. He sat in the chair and eyed Daniel. Turning to the other four guards, he waved a hand and they exited immediately, leaving only the larger Jaffa and one young man in his presence.

"What is your name, child?"

Like he needed anyone to make him feel younger. "Daniel. Daniel Jackson."

"And who is this 'Daniel Jackson,' that he should use the portal of the gods?"

He stiffened. Something was wrong. This man, obviously a ruler, handled himself in a manner inconsistent with anti-Goa'uld priests and soldiers. "This Daniel Jackson is a scientist…who doesn't believe in gods."

The Jaffa armed his staff weapon and stalked towards the infidel. "Wait," the man on the throne commanded. He paused, as if trying to make a decision, then said finally, "You may leave us, Telal."

"But, Master—"

"Do you question me?"

Telal bowed low and backed out of the room. "No, Master."

The Master got off his thrown and walked towards the captive. "If you do not believe in gods, Daniel Jackson, then what do you believe in?"

"I believe in Goa'uld."

In one swift move, the Master had hold of Daniel's hair and forced the young man's head back. "Where do you come from?"

"Ea—Earth." His head was pulled back so far that he could barely talk. But it didn't matter; the look on his captor's face was well worth the pain. Clearly, he hadn't expected to hear the word "Earth." Suddenly, Daniel found himself released. "Who are you?" he asked, rubbing his abused scalp.

"Foolish child; you do not know greatness when it is before you?"

"I'm afraid I don't know a lot of things at the moment." He stood up and stretched his neck. "I thought—that is, I reasoned—that this was a sort of ex-patriot colony of Sumerian priests and warriors. I had no idea a Goa'uld had come with them."

This youth kept throwing curveballs at the disgruntled ruler. How did he know about Sumeria? And Goa'ulds? When had the Tau'ri learned to use the Chaapa'ai? His eyes narrowed at Daniel. "You will tell me everything you know of human history, how you came to use the Stargate, and all your interactions with the gods."

Danny knew that he could not cooperate with this being; any information he gave could be used to destroy or enslave Earth. "You're not gods. And I won't tell you anything."

"Very well, then," the Goa'uld announced, reaching for some sort of metal device he put on his hand. He walked over to Daniel, raised his arm, and sent the archaeologist to his knees again. "I am Qingu, young one. I will be your god and you will tell me what I want to know."

With that, Daniel passed out.

He woke up to a nasty headache and wondered, briefly, if the cause had been the first head injury or Qingu's hand…thingy. Either way, it hurt, and left him with a feeling of great foreboding. Sure, he'd done some pretty stupid things in his life—agreeing to be a hostage, drinking tea an Ethiopian herbalist gave him for a cold, walking into a minefield to save a kid, stepping between two angry tribal leaders about to go to war. But being the prisoner of an ex-Sumerian-pseudo-god on a different planet? Maybe he was still tripping on the tea.

Qingu. He knew the name. He had brushed up on his Sumerian mythology as soon as he returned from Iraq only a few months ago…well, a few months ago plus seven years. Qingu was Tiamat's lover and her general in the war against the gods, something that did not go over particularly well. Actually, it wound up with both of them supposedly dead, which might explain why Qingu had to leave Earth. So how did everything tie together? More importantly, what did Qingu have in mind with him and where was Jack?

Daniel looked up as the door to his cell opened and Ekur walked in. He carried a bag in one hand and closed the door with the other, then stood patiently, waiting. Unable to approach because of the shackles that held him to the wall, Danny opted for conversation, instead.

"Hello."

Ekur didn't answer.

"Are you a—" What was the word? Ja…Jaf…Jaffa. "Are you Jaffa?"

That got his attention. "Yes. How do you know?"

"I heard the word used earlier. I'm not exactly sure what it means, though. I noticed that you have the same emblem on your forehead that one of my companions has. What is a Jaffa?"

Ekur pulled a stool over to where Daniel sat. "A Jaffa is a warrior to the gods. He does his god's bidding and fights for him. In return, Goa'uld larvae are allowed to mature within the Jaffa, which allows him health and longevity. Your friend was the first-prime to a god; I know because his emblem is gold. It is a high honor and makes him a formidable enemy. When they return for you, the fight will be great."

"What makes you think they'll come back for me?"

"Because you came back for them."

Daniel's brow furrowed. "But there were two of them and there's only one of me. Besides, I'm of no real value. My companions are all warriors; I'm only a student—that is, I'm not studying anything important. I mean, I didn't study anything important." He desperately wanted to run a hand through his hair in an attempt to convey his frustration. Was the act cross-cultural? "What I'm trying to say is that I don't know if they'll come back. Military people don't think the same as regular people."

Ekur shrugged, then cocked his head. "What did you study?"

"Oh, well, archaeology. And linguistics. And sociology. I spent a lot of time studying. In fact, I was just recently researching ancient Sumerian mythology, which is quite a stroke of luck, considering the circumstances." He smiled a little, enjoying the opportunity to speak a dead language with a living native. Then he frowned, unhappy at the situation that allowed him such a privilege. What would Dr. Manning think? Or Dr. Masood? What would his parents think? He blinked away the thoughts. "Have you ever studied anything?"

"Fighting."

"Right. Shoulda guessed that one on my own. So…what's going to happen to me?"

"Lord Qingu is coming here to ask you questions. He wants to know more about where you are from and those with whom you came. You should cooperate with him; he is all-powerful and very intent on getting whatever information you have. If you are not honest and forthcoming, you will experience great pain."

Danny nodded numbly. "Why don't I go back?" he heard himself asking on the phonograph in his mind. Was he insane? Yeah, chalk another one up for Daniel Jackson: Masochist. As if supernaturally able to pick the perfect moment, Qingu walked in.

"I am pleased to see you awake."

"I wish I weren't."

"That could be arranged."

He shuddered. "Look, whatever you want to know, I can't tell you. This is completely fruitless." Danny frowned. Where had he learned the Sumerian equivalent of "fruitless?" The whole communication process, in fact, was far easier than he would have ever imagined.

"You seemed so fiery and adamant back in my throne room. Have things changed, child?" he asked with only a hint of ridicule. Unlike the brothers and sisters he hadn't seen in ages, Qingu long ago mastered moderation in the art of manipulation. And it truly was an art form. He grasped Daniel's face with a firm, slender hand. "These are the best accommodations I can afford you. Don't you appreciate my hospitality? After all, I raised you from the dead."

Daniel drew his head back. "Of course, I'm very grateful for the…resurrection. It's just that I'm unable to tell you anything. I can't tell you what I don't know."

Qingu flicked a hand in the general direction of the bag Ekur had brought into the room. The Jaffa got up obediently and began unpacking large, painful-looking tools. Unconsciously, Danny stepped back a couple inches while the Goa'uld spoke.

"That is fascinating. In my throne room, you said you wouldn't tell me anything, not that you couldn't. This leads me to believe that the problem on your part is due to a lack of willingness, rather than a lack of ability. Fortunately, I have a remedy. Jaffa, bring me the shuhadaku," he commanded while pulling out a small knife. He sliced easily through the fabric of Daniel's shirt, revealing smooth skin beneath, then manipulated the restraints so the prisoner faced the wall. Holding the shuhadaku with practiced adeptness, he stepped back to get a good look at the target. Danny, white as a piece of clean printer paper, shook so hard that the chains rattled softly.

"Take comfort," Qingu soothed, "in knowing that I will not kill you."

He let the shuhadaku—a weapon somewhere between a whip and a branding iron—soar. Daniel almost flew off the ground as pain and fire coursed through his entire body. His cry was the strangled kind of a man too hurt and shocked to wail.

"Then again, perhaps that's not as much comfort as you would like."

Water touched his mouth and he hoped it wasn't his own tears. No. No, it felt too cool to be tears. Blinking—how could even that be painful?—he saw an almost concerned Ekur, the source of the cup at his mouth.

"Thank you," whispered Daniel, having sipped carefully. It didn't dawn on him until afterwards that the drink could be poisoned. Then again, what poison could possibly cause him any more pain than he already felt. His throat felt raw from what he could only assume were screams and his wrists had blood and bruises on them from tugging and hanging.

"You should tell my master what you know," Ekur said without any bothersome pleasantries. "Then you can die quickly, in peace."

"What a lovely prospect." Actually, it didn't sound half bad. "But I can't. I don't know anything. I tried to explain earlier, but nobody listened. Ekur, when I was on your planet the first time—when you captured the other two—I had an accident and hit my head. That erased my memory. I don't understand how the portal works, I don't know how we came to use it, I don't remember any previous interactions with Goa'ulds, and I especially don't know about Goa'ulds in human history."

"That will not satisfy him."

Sob? Scream? Laugh? Which emotion to choose? They all presented themselves at that moment. "Did it ever occur to you that a "god" as all-powerful as yours should be all-knowing, too? Or how about compassionate? Compassionate!" he yelled, choking back a cry while the shackles tugged at his wrists.

Ekur frowned. Not only had he never seen anyone react in Daniel's manner, he had never heard anyone echo the doubts about Qingu that he felt. The Jaffa moved closer so he could stare better into the eyes of his prisoner, who quieted down. "What you say is blasphemy," he stated cautiously.

"Ekur, I might not know much of anything right now, but this is the one thing I do know: Qingu is not a god. He's some sort of advanced…alien…snake. That's pretty much all anybody told me before we came here." Danny stopped talking and gave Ekur a hard look—one which brightened with hope. "You believe me."

"I do not."

"But you have doubts about Qingu."

"Qingu is my god. He is all-powerful."

It hurt, but somehow Danny managed a slight smile. "Don't be afraid to question."

A moment of silent agreement passed before Ekur changed the subject. He asked why SG1 had come to Shin'ar, to which Daniel could honestly answer that he wasn't sure, but he assumed it to be exploratory; an opportunity to check out a new planet. That seemed to satisfy the young Jaffa, but not Qingu, who walked in on the explanation.

"Is that why your comrades brought weapons and were looking at our naquada?"

Daniel faltered. Naquada? He was understanding considerably more of Sumerian than he ever would have thought possible, but no translation for the word appeared in his mind. "I need you to explain "naquada" to me; I'm not familiar with it."

The corner of Qingu's mouth twitched and even Ekur looked incredulous. "Even if you have lost your memory, you must surely know what naquada is—it powers the Chaapa'ai. It's the most valuable resource in the universe."

So, the Goa'uld had been listening in on their conversation; he'd heard Daniel's excuse for being unable to explain what the god wanted to know. "If you know about my amnesia, you know that I'm unable to tell you anything. All I know is everything that happened up to seven years ago and everything that's happened in roughly the past twelve hours." Twelve hours already, he thought sarcastically. Golly, time sure flies when you're suffering torture at the hands of a megalomaniacal stomach parasite. I'm ready to wake up now from this nightmare.

"Then tell me, child, what you remember up to seven years ago and from the past twelve hours."

"Well, I was born, my parents died horribly, I flitted through foster care, I went to university, passed out, and when I woke up, I was at a military base being told about your planet."

Qingu raised an eyebrow and pulled a tool from the bag. Danny's eyes nearly rolled into the back of their sockets from dread and fear. "Please," he whispered, fighting back tears unsuccessfully. "I've told you the truth! I don't know anything!"

"You must. How else could you communicate with me so well? Your linguistic skills are extraordinary, and certainly honed from practice. Practice with other gods."

"Yes, probably! But it's practice I can't remember!"

Qingu held the weapon contemplatively. The young man before him seemed so earnest. Besides, any prisoner who had suffered through the shuhadaku, yet continued to insist on his own version of the facts, had to be telling the truth or certain of the lie.

"Very well. This matter can be resolved efficiently with the kalashpeta."

Daniel cocked his head. "I don't know the first word, but the second means to open…to open for someone."

"It is a device that will unlock the mysteries in your mind. It is difficult and painful—for me. It will kill you. However, I will have all the answers I need. I shall have Telal prepare it. In the meantime," he declared, handing the torture device to Ekur, "you shall punish this Tau'ri who assuages the name of your god."

The joy of being left momentarily in peace fled Daniel and he began to shake again. His hope had been, briefly, that Jack would somehow rescue him before he incurred any further abuse. He looked over at Qingu. "You're going to kill me soon. Why do this also?"

The strapping god walked over to his captive and whispered, out of Ekur's earshot, "Your physical weakness makes the process of the kalashpeta much easier on me, and this demonstrates my Jaffa's loyalty and obedience. You can go to the grave being right about my godhood, child, but I shall never join you there."

He turned on his heels but continued to address Daniel. "I trust you will not be too disappointed by my continued use of the shuhadaku, but I find it is very effective. If you had been aware of your screams the first time, I'm sure you would agree." He headed towards door, then turned around. Torture might be an art, but it thrilled him to the core. "Oh, and to allay your fears on whether your friends will return for you: I have been informed that they are still on the planet. My Jaffa will capture them shortly."

Qingu nodded once at Ekur, then opened the door.

The torture commenced

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