In her chambers, Nirrti divested herself of the disgusting Janet Fraiser costume and slipped into a skimpy silk gown, then arranged her hair in East Indian fashion. Although, she enjoyed this host's fuller figure, Nirrti missed her old self that in all honesty had been almost two thousand years old and needed to be recycled.
Like it or not, Woden had done Nirrti a favor that day he'd snapped her neck. But then she had sensed the inevitable climax and had detached herself from the host's spinal column just seconds from the end. The worst Nirrti's serpentine form had suffered was a bruise to her Goa'uld pride. She'd slithered away with none the wiser, vowing to one day take back what was her future hok taurs; Jack O'Neill, Samantha Carter, and their first born, Cassandra. Since then she'd had over a dozen hosts, temporary shells until she found a permanent residence.
Having lost another laboratory to the efforts of SG-1, Nirrti had to start over. But she'd left Woden's planet with vital knowledge on Ancient branding that had been initialized on Carter's DNA since she'd given birth to Cassandra. Not to mention what had been gleamed from the Kelownan Jonas Quinn. So while the other system lords had joined forces to defeat Anubis, Nirrti quietly worked in her lab on a distant moon. Firstly, she'd developed a drug that concealed traces of Naquadrah in a Goa'uld and its host, and secondly, she'd learned to clone hosts. Patience was one of many human traits Nirrti had come to admire and use to her advantage.
Now with Anubis and most of the major system lords turned to space debris, she could enjoy herself and in time, rule the universe. But first she had to pacify a handful of minor system lords including Klorel, Zipacna, and the worst of the lot, Baal. Yes, Baal would be the most difficult to squash, for there was nothing minor about him.
Baal was one of her many lovers over the centuries. After taking him to her bed again she'd initiated a truce and got her hands on the sniveling, but brilliant Asgard Loki. Nirrti had learned another human quality. When a Goa'uld took over a male Tau'ri it quickly found itself inundated with male hormones which clouded its Goa'uld nature. Basically, they became horny as rabbits and Baal was no exception. He'd been immediately attracted to Janet Fraiser and Nirrti had gotten everything she wanted. However now, she must become cleverer than ever, especially once Baal learned of her deceit.
Today Nirrti would divest herself of this present host, Fraiser #6. Although most of the host no longer existed, there was enough left that it'd almost ruined the enjoyable moments with Colonel Carter this morning. Oh, Nirrti had intended to reveal herself in time. But she'd gone too far expecting Carter to swallow the, Fraiser was a whore line. Interestingly though, she'd not lied about Fraiser's feelings for O'Neill. But then, what woman didn't want that beautiful Tau'ri? Point noted.
Each Fraiser clone, proved closer to perfection, which would allow Nirrti to achieve her goal. Although similar to Anubis' super drones her clones reserved memories minus the emotions, thus allowing the Goa'uld to utilize the host's history. Her latest attempt to clone the host and Goa'uld as one entity had been a success. Baal would kill her in a heartbeat to acquire this technology. Still there were two flaws. One, her clones remained as physically fallible as a normal host and secondly, they possessed no Ancient DNA. Without which Nirrti would never create the ultimate advanced human host, a hok taur. Now that she had O'Neill and Carter, Nirrti's misfortune had changed to fortune. Better yet, they'd never know.
"You said I could have the donor O'Neill!" Klorel made grand entrance into Nirrti's chamber, stalking back and forth in royal rage.
"That I did." Nirrti pushed upright on her velvet cushions and yawned indifference at the Goa'uld's furious outburst. She'd been a rebel Goa'uld too long to be intimidated by a son of Apophis, a dead Apophis no less. The young Klorel had yet to realize that he was her pawn, as were the other Goa'uld she'd taken up with these last few years.
"So why did you place me in this-this female warrior's body?"
"You know I rarely keep promises, Klorel. But in my defense and considering your former host was old and dying, I did the best I could on short notice. This body you inhabit is young, strong, and possesses knowledge that will help us reinstate the system lords in this galaxy. You will soon learn female hosts have advantages that male hosts don't. I believe the Tau'ri call one such advantage, 'feminine wiles.'" She sipped from her wine goblet. "So use them well."
"But I do not want a clone!"
"Klorel, when will you realize that these weak humans hosts are nothing but aggravation with the obstinacies to control their vessel? Do you not enjoy the freedom allowed within this clone? You have complete authority over its consciousness. No more inner battles. And for the first time we Goa'uld can truly state that nothing of the host remains?"
Klorel calmed. "Yes, I admit that unlike with Skaara, this is a pleasurable blending. I can access memories and emotions whenever I desire and there is no resistance."
"Correct. You have no reason to complain. Furthermore, I had originally planned to inhabit your clone, which would make my plans for O'Neill much more enjoyable. Do not give me reason to regret my change of heart." She rose from the cushions and came to stand before him with an intimidating look. "You won't like it."
"Understood, Nirrti. But it will still take time to adjust to this--this feminine host."
"Yes, transition from one gender to the other is often difficult. You will now become the daughter of Apophis."
"I know." Klorel snorted. "Now where is its donor?"
"Being interrogated." Nirrti shrugged indifference.
"Would you allow me that honor?"
"As you wish. I should have eliminated her when I had the chance. She has too much influence over O'Neill. In the past their relationship proved beneficial. I know realize the only way I will gain access to their daughter Cassandra, is through him. Do with Carter what you will."
"Thank you." Klorel nodded. "And now that you've perfected the cloning what will we do with the Asgard?"
"His usefulness has ended. We must dispose of Loki before Baal demands his return, especially since I've created multiple clones without DNA degeneration."
"You really don't intend to give that data to Baal?" Klorel looked worried.
"Of course not. Can you imagine this galaxy with multiple Baals?" Nirrti shuddered.
"Never." Klorel mimicked her reaction.
"Good."
"And what of Shanahan?"
"His being the first prototype has proved advantageous to my experiments. But he too has exceeded his worth. I will eliminate him shortly. Besides he's too emotionally attached to Colonel Carter. He will not be receptive to her demise, which will give me pleasure."
"I agree. But let me enjoy him awhile."
"Do what you like. And after you've amused yourself with Colonel Carter, we will talk with Zipacana. Now that he has joined our alliance we must converse on the next move to defeat Baal," said Nirrti.
"Of course. And insure that Baal takes the blame for what happens today with O'Neill and Carter."
"Yes. I also think the scientist McKay will prove a generous addition to our cause. Perhaps Zipacana will chose his clone."
Klorel nodded. "You still insist that no harm befalls the donor O'Neill?"
"I do. Put aside your petty retribution for him taking you from the host Skaara, who I remind you is long dead."
"He's not dead. He's an ascended being. And no, I will not put aside my thirst for revenge. But in this body it will taste much sweeter."
"I warn you, Klorel!" Nirrti stood her ground.
"Do not upset yourself. I will not injure him physically. But there are ways as this clone knows that will ripe his human heart asunder."
"Now that I will enjoy."
Feeling like she'd been dragged behind a X-302, Sam opened her eyes and glanced around. Her wrists bound and over her head, she was chained to the ceiling, her boots just scraping the floor. Sam knew exactly where she was, Nirrti's torture chamber.
"So the female Tau'ri has awakened." A Goa'uld mocked.
"Yes, milord," said the Jaffa guard.
"Leave us."
Oil burning wall torches illuminated the chamber. Sam concentrated on the location of the voice and watched its host step out of the shadows while the guard walked away.
"Replicarter?" Sam blinked in surprise.
"No. But I'm certain that in a few seconds you will prefer that version to this one," responded the tall, blonde Goa'uld dressed in Sam's green BTU's.
Sam was looking at herself. "Dear God, a Goa'uld clone!"
"You are indeed smarter than Doctor McKay." Her clone circled. "I hope you remember me, Colonel Carter. I am Klorel, daughter of Apophis."
"You got to be kidding!" Sam's shock caused her mouth to hang ajar as she futilely struggled in her chains.
"Oh, I do not as you say, kid. But speaking of children, how is your lovely daughter, Cassandra?"
Sam glared.
"You know she hates you, right? All those years you'd abandoned her. Then once you found her, you abandoned her again in that missile silo, and then by giving her over to Janet Fraiser."
"I came back for her and I didn't know she was my child!" The moment the words spewed from her lips, Sam regretted them. The clone knew exactly what had happened in Sam and Cassandra's life. From here on she'd not speak a word, she'd not be baited.
"Yes, you did. Now how about saving yourself further physical and emotional trauma? Where's Cassandra? I mean I'm sure you and O'Neill wished she'd come along for this family reunion."
"Go to hell, you heartless snake!"
"Shut your mouth," the Goa'uld commanded.
"Make me!" Sam challenged herself.
"My pleasure." Klorel's fist slammed into her mouth.
Under the brutal blow, Sam felt her jawbone crack and agonizing pain fired through her face. Blood trickled from her mouth and nose. Her vision swimming, she watched as Klorel removed weapons of torture off the wall and then turned back to her. Unable to speak Sam could only stare in fear and listen to her own taunting voice.
"Holy Hannah! You can't exactly talk with a broken jaw now can you? Well, I'll be honest. We no longer need you, Samantha. And I cannot wait to see our beloved husband's expression when I set your shattered corpse at his feet. Consider it my small token for when he ripped me from my first host, Skaara. Now," the Goa'uld gloated in Sam's voice, "What shall we next break, mayhap a few ribs and then a shin . . ."