Chapter 3

The cell floor was damp and cold. Avedra shivered against it, his skin scraping against the rough surface with each contraction of his muscles. No one had bothered to remove whatever was binding his arms behind his back. His shoulders ached, his hands numb from the restraints wrapped around his wrists.

He listened for noises outside the cell. The occasional scream, some whispers and the sound of rodents gnawing within the walls filled his ears. He had no idea how long he had been there. One hour ran into the next. It could have been days, but he wasn't sure. There were no windows, so he couldn't see outside to even judge by the position of Beman's twin suns the time of day. A storm had passed a while earlier. Water had seeped into the cell. His clothes still felt heavy with the musty mix of mud and dust that covered the floor.

Avedra laid his head back on the floor, closing his eyes and trying to preserve his strength. He would surely need it if what he had learned of the Goa'ulds remained true. His mind played out the various scenarios that might face him at any moment – the torture, the conversations, the chance he might die on the very spot he occupied.

His heart sank as the realization that the Tok'ra would not likely send a rescue became more apparent. He was alone, and alone he would die. He had chosen this path – had chosen to put himself at this risk he now endured. Surely, he would have to accept that this was his destiny as a freedom fighter. The peril was clear. He had asked – no, he corrected himself – he had begged for this chance. This was his calling, no matter the outcome. The Tok'ra Grand Council had taken the chance that a candidate would complete the mission and obtain the information they so badly needed.

Neja would call for him soon. He was sure of it. It was bound to be discovered that it was a Tok'ra that had infiltrated the ranks of Beman to spy on the operations there. Since Neja would not know how many pairs of eyes were on him, he would try to extract that information from the one source he had.

Avedra smiled dryly at the thought. This was the sacrifice he had proclaimed he was willing to make. This was the death sentence he assured the Grand Council he was willing to accept in the noble fight for freedom. Neja was an enemy to those who valued freedom. Avedra was his immediate foe. He would match wits against the traitor, vowing that he would not break in the face of torture. The Tok'ra had trained Avedra as best they could to endure the pain and psychological warfare that awaited him in some chamber down the hall.

He wondered if he would cry out in pain as he had been hearing others do. That would surely be a sign of weakness, an act Neja would no doubt take great pleasure invoking. How the man had turned against the Tok'ra still baffled Avedra. Loyalties within the sect had been so constant as far as he had seen. Certain members of the Grand Council had shown definite disdain at the mention of Neja's name. There was no question as to the intent that Neja must die in order for others to live. Avedra's mission was the first step in that endeavor.

There was a clatter at the door. The bar on the outside made a grinding sound as it was pulled away. When the door opened, a guard stood there a moment, looking down at the lump of a being before him. Avedra turned his head slightly and peered back at the guard, holding his face expressionless.

The guard entered, followed by another. Together, they each took a side and hauled Avedra from the floor. He held his breath, beating down a grunt of pain as they pulled at his arms at an unnatural angle. He complied with their commands, entering the hall with a slight stumble. It felt good to be upright again, even though he was being pulled along roughly at a pace he could barely manage.

The corridor they had entered was long. Cells lined the way. As they moved along, he could hear the cries of those inside more distinctly now. The people inside were in pain. Some stood in time to see Avedra pass, managing to get a glance through the tiny barred windows on the doors. Their eyes seemed hollow and dark, their will to fight an elusive commodity.

At the end of the corridor stood a massive, heavy metal door. It was meant to keep people out as much as in. It opened almost automatically as they approached. Avedra was pushed through it into the hands of two more serpent guards awaiting him.

They grabbed at him roughly. He knew his arms would score bruises from their treatment. Sadly, he knew there was more in store for him, most likely, wherever they were taking him. From what he could tell, people did not get to leave their cells. For Avedra, this was an invitation he had no chance of turning down.

He stumbled but was held aloft by the guards, literally dragged down the hall to another awaiting chamber. The air was cleaner here. The water was held at bay by better construction. The lights were bright, hurting his eyes. He wanted to shield them, but his hands were bound. His eyelids rebelled at the contrast, squinting shut to the point he could barely see in front of him.

Before he could see where he had stopped, the guards let go of him. Avedra stood there, unsure of his surroundings and afraid to move. The lights were so bright, but he did manage to make out a figure sitting in front of him on what he could only discern as a throne of sorts.

There was a drawn out silence. He knew not what to say, nor did he care to offer anything that would hasten his schedule of execution. He just stood there, awaiting the next event in what was surely to be the last remaining moments of his life.

Only then did it occur to him that it was Neja who was seated on the chair. As Avedra struggled to open his eyes more fully, he could make out Neja's form. He was seated in an arrogant posture, patiently waiting for his prisoner to become more accustomed to the change of atmosphere. Apparent to Avedra, this was not the first time he had done this.

Only after a heavy silence that sent a chill into Avedra's body did Neja speak. "You are of the resistance," he said, his voice reverberating in the fashion of a symbiote speaking. Though a statement, his words had the air of a question.

Avedra stood silent.

Neja stood from his throne and descended the two stair in front of it. He came toward Avedra, pulling his golden robes about him. His hair was long and dark, pulled back and tied off with a golden metal band. It defied the normal style of other system lords who wore it rather short. With a body tall and lanky, his high cheekbones held the slightest hint of sunburn, no doubt the result of having personally supervised the outside construction of his weapons. The rest of his skin was pale, nearly white.

"I suspect I have been branded a traitor," he said, continuing as though Avedra were not required to provide any answers thus far into the conversation. As he neared, the scent of perfume wafted through the air, assaulting Avedra's senses with a sickening sweetness.

Neja walked behind him, circling like a predator. "What do they call you, Tok'ra?"

Avedra spoke now. "Who I am is of little consequence."

"Oh, I believe it is of great consequence," Neja countered. "You have not blended yet, and I find that peculiar. That tells me you are someone of importance. Perhaps you are a threat to my work here?" His voice was soft, not nearly the edge to it that Avedra had expected.

Neja circled around to face him again. It was then that Avedra noticed the three guards standing post in the room near Neja's throne. They were large men, surely strong enough to subdue him in an escape attempt. "I was unarmed when you captured me," he answered, his throat dry with dehydration and a fear he could not deny.

"So you were. And you do not appear to pose a threat now." He turned to a guard and ordered the release of the binders on Avedra's wrists.

The sudden rush of blood into his fingers brought a limited sense of relief to Avedra. He flexed them at his sides, grudgingly grateful, despite painful pinprick tingling, that his hands were free once more.

"Come, you must be hungry. Let us dine and talk some more." Neja turned and began walking away toward another door. It was opened for him as he neared. Beyond it, Avedra could see a large dining chamber that he never would have guessed existed from his observations outside.

He stepped forward, following Neja into the great room, which was adorned in golden patterns of geometric shapes that were somehow pleasing to the eye. The decor was reminiscent of the limited decorating patterns found in Tok'ra settlements. One shape flowed into the next, creating an uninterrupted river of interconnected outcroppings on the walls. The lights in this room were more subdued, casting soothing shadows in the corners. Candles burned steadily here and there on large but ordinary stands.

The ceiling was high, reflecting the sounds of footfalls with every step. Before them was a large table with two chairs. Neja moved forward and sat down, holding out his arm in invitation for Avedra to occupy the other.

It was at this point that Avedra was aware of the smell of food. A heady scent of cooked meat filled the air. His stomach leapt at the assault, and only then did he realize just how hungry he was. He had lost track of the days, and there was no telling how long he had been without food. Surely, this was better than the rations he had brought for himself in any case.

It flashed through his mind that this could be some trick – that Neja had poisoned the food in order to obtain more information. Avedra weighed his options carefully as he was led to the other chair. Even if the food was poisoned, it would be food nonetheless. He had to keep his strength up if he had any hopes of finding a way out of the complex and back to a transport of some sort.

He seated himself across from Neja at the oblong table. The dampness in his robes had become cold, seeping through to the backs of his legs. A shiver escaped him, though he was sure Neja had not noticed. Two young females emerged from another door, toting two carafes of drinks and small plates of fruit Avedra found appealing yet strange in form. The food was placed in front of the two men and glasses were filled with an amber liquid that smelled sweet and slightly alcoholic.

Neja adjusted his posture, then began tasting the fruits on the plate before him. He ate for a few moments without a word, savoring each bite with a personal satisfaction. Then he stopped and looked up Avedra who had yet to touch his own plate.

"Go on, eat," he encouraged. "I am certainly honorable when it comes to the enjoyment of a meal."

Especially ones intended as your prisoner's last, Avedra thought. His hand moved toward the plate in front of him, and he picked up a piece of the fruit that was orange in color. It was not familiar to him, but his senses perked as he bit into it. A sweet, juicy explosion bombarded his mouth. He chewed on it with satisfaction, squeezing out every drop of juice before swallowing what remained of the pulp.

Neja smiled gently and returned to his own plate. They ate in silence a while, Avedra not offering any information that would endanger his own safety. Every so often, Neja would stop and study the young man. It was disconcerting to say the least to Avedra.

"Tell me – how is Garshaw?" Neja asked finally. "She was well the last time I saw her."

Avedra's mind kicked back into gear, momentarily swept away with the food before him. "I do not know that name," he answered, busying himself with the rest of the fruit.

Neja laughed quietly. "Of course you do. Only the Tok'ra would have such audacity to send someone to spy on my efforts."

Avedra pushed his plate away slightly, careful to avoid the effect that he was rejecting what remained. He picked up a towel placed at his side and dabbed at his mouth. "The Tok'ra are not the only ones who oppose tyranny, Lord Neja."

Neja's eyebrows rose in amusement. "Is that what I have been accused of doing?" He sat back in his chair, angling his body in a casual position. "I do not know the things you have been told of me or of my defection from the ways of the Tok'ra. However, as nature suggests, there are two sides to every accusation."

"I'm sure there are, Lord Neja, but the fact remains you have enslaved the people here for your own needs. Surely, even you will not deny the forced labor. Even I am a prisoner here."

"Nonsense," Neja replied, casually waving his hand about in the air to dismiss the thought. "Consider yourself my guest. I do apologize if you feel you were treated unfairly, but I am afraid all that commotion was as much for my safety as it was for yours."

"Mine?"

"Certainly. You see, this installation is a key asset of mine. As such, I must know all that goes on within and around it. It was either you be taken as a prisoner at the time or my guards kill you dead where you stood. Surely, you can see that I took the more compassionate route in your case."

"Others may not see it as such."

Neja smiled ever so slightly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Allow me to enlighten you, my newfound friend." His voice lowered, as though he were telling a secret. "At all times, your fate rests in my hands. I may not be a spiritual god, but I am a god in that I determine whether you live or die, just as I determine the fates of everyone on this world. Do not test my resolve in that matter.

"And what becomes of those who do?"

Neja sat back. "They are eliminated, of course." He reached up and adjusted the robes near his neck. "This resistance you claim is not the Tok'ra sees fit to destroy its enemies. Why should I not be afforded the same right? I am merely defending my destiny as a great leader and ruler."

Avedra's anger rose uncontrollably, though he managed to keep the tone of his voice even and calm. "You're a murderer. You kill innocents without a second thought."

Neja rose so quickly from his chair that it flipped back and landed on the floor with a clatter that echoed throughout the chamber. His eyes glowed with anger. "You insolent young man! You know nothing of my thoughts! Your arrogance has led you to me, and now you sit there with all your piety." His attitude turned loathsome. "There is no doubt you are of the Tok'ra. You have been poisoned by Garshaw's political ramblings far too long for you to be able to discern truths for yourself."

Now Avedra stood, squaring his body toward Neja. "I am well capable of forming my own opinions. I have had quite a sufficient amount of time to observe your actions here, and I find them deplorable. You are a murderer, Neja, and you are a traitor to the cause of freedom of all peoples."

They stared one another in eye for a moment, then Neja calmly turned and picked up his overturned chair. He sat down gently, but the tension was clear in his shoulders. He let go with an unexpected and drawn-out laugh that startled Avedra. "You are a feisty one, I will admit. And what should I call you?"

Avedra stood there a moment, trying to regroup. Then he sat down slowly in his own chair again. "Fennig," he said. "They call me Fennig."

"Well, then, Fennig," Neja said, almost with a festive tone, "eat well, for we have much work ahead of us."

A sense of danger welled in the pit of Avedra's stomach, signaling that he had somehow made a false step in the game. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he had erred. "Such as?"

Neja smiled, but it was not a kind response. Rather, his countenance was more sinister now, his eyes focusing narrowly on Avedra's. "As I told you before, I make it a point to know all that concerns my assets. And you, my fine friend, have just become my biggest prize yet."