VORASH—TOK'RA BASE

Vorash was an unfriendly planet, mostly desert and little greenery. Unlike other populated desert planets like Abydos, there were no ancient cities or residing civilizations. There were no ruins to marvel at or artifacts to discover. It was an inhospitable but survivable planet that had nothing to offer anyone.

No one, that is, except the Tok'ra.

Deep beneath the dunes lay a myriad of tunnels built by a remarkable technology still not understood by those who hunted the Tok'ra. Quickly excavated and quickly collapsible, the tunnels had lain hidden beneath the surface on many planets, all under the seeking eyes of the Goa'uld. On Vorash, the drifting sands helped to camouflage the tunnels and the continually blowing wind hid any signs of the Tok'ra presence.

Inhospitable? Yes.

Practical? Definitely.

Convenient? Definitely not.

Mordecai had lived on a variety of planets since he left his position as instructor to the young and became host to Malthus, but desert planets were among his least favorite. The harsh conditions on the surface meant that they had to spend most of his time in the underground tunnels. It was a complaint he knew his symbiote was familiar with. Malthus' recent experiments had lasted for several days, those days spent secluded in a laboratory watching cells split and then fail. He longed for something, anything to distract him from the tediousness of the repetition.

'….How much longer, Malthus? …'

'Not much longer. This was my last sample.' Both host and symbiote watched as the final sample deteriorated …

'….Now what? Try again? …'

'No. We have no more, and there's no way to get more.'

Vorash was a well thought out hiding place for the Tok'ra, but everything from food to equipment had to be transported there. Basic supplies were in great demand and had to be rationed out to each Tok'ra. Items other than basic supplies were in even greater demand. This proved to be a difficult obstacle with the scientific community within the Tok'ra commune. What was a scientist to do when an experiment had to be ran many times and not just the number of times the experimental rations allowed?

Mordecai felt Malthus' frustration when his symbiote thought about the futility of running the experiment again even if he had another sample. He knew the results would be the same, and he would just be wasting precious resources. He couldn't reproduce the effect in a laboratory. It could only happen naturally, and there was little chance that he would ever get a viable sample to work with again. .

'….Can I do anything to help? …'

'No. There is nothing to be done.'

Mordecai "sat" back within the confines of his mind and let Malthus have full control. This was a time when Malthus needed quiet to think …

~o~o~o~

Malthus regarded his now non-existent supply of genetic material. He needed more, but the chances of obtaining any were slim. Goa'uld Queens were well protected behind their Jaffa and their Pharaohs' protection. There were a few so-called royal physicians to aid matters when the sarcophagus and the healing devices weren't readily available for the pharaohs and the queens, but none of them could be trusted to obtain a sample. Malthus only needed a small amount of genetic material. He could filter out the host's portion to leave him an unsullied sample. It didn't even have to be fresh. It could be …

Malthus sat up straight in his chair. He remembered! How could he have forgotten? There was a sample readily available to him. There was a queen buried in the desert sands of Abydos. The host's family had buried Amaunet there just two months earlier. Yes! He could get a sample easily from …

No, he couldn't.

Malthus remembered that Amaunet's host had been the wife of Daniel Jackson, and the Tok'ra were now friends of the Tau'ri. If he just went to Abydos and "appropriated" the necessary amount of genetic material, he could jeopardize that "friendship." It wasn't that Malthus really cared about the Tau'ri. They were primitive and not able to understand that the Tok'ra had a more important agenda that did not include catering to the Tau'ri every time they needed something, but the Tok'ra Council were rather fond of them, mostly because of Jacob Carter and the help they offered Selmak. Malthus would have to go to Earth and obtain permission from Daniel Jackson to exhume his wife's body. Barring that, he would have to go to Abydos and ask the host's family. Given the Abydonian's respect for the dead and belief of certain punishment when disturbing the dead without reason, he knew that he would be refused permission from the family, but perhaps he could persuade Daniel Jackson. After all, the man was an archaeologist. Digging up the dead was a profession with him. Surely, he could have no objections to his request for such a great cause.

'….You believe that Daniel Jackson will give you permission? He searched for his wife for almost three years. She died recently. He will still be grieving …'

Malthus considered what his host said. Was it too soon? It didn't matter. They needed the genetic sample before it degraded any more. 'I'll ask politely,' he thought back to his host. 'I'll tell him as much as I can without telling him everything. He's a scientist. He'll understand the urgency. And if he doesn't, I'm sure Colonel O'Neill or Major Carter will understand and explain the importance of the research, both militarily and scientifically.'

' ….You think Colonel O'Neill could understand the scientific research? Even if he could, do you think he'd tolerate such a request, even to a scientist the quality of Daniel Jackson? …'

'We have to try.' Malthus couldn't argue the point with his host. Even though he didn't like the Tau'ri, he didn't want to deliberately hurt someone, either, certainly not an ally. Still, his research was too important to worry about the feelings of one obscure individual.

'….He's not just any individual, Malthus. He's the one who deciphered the Stargate for the Tau'ri and helped kill Ra. He's considered exceptional by many of our allies and acquaintances, and he's well liked by most of the Tok'ra. You'd better be very polite when you talk to him. I don't think Jacob or Selmak will let you get away with hurting him …'

'I'll try not to hurt him, but we need that material.'

'….Then I wish you luck, my friend, but if I even sense that you're about to do something stupid or say something wrong, I'll be the one doing the talking. Understood? …'

'Yes, I understand.'

Pushy host, Malthus thought to himself. He felt a mental "kick" by his host and laughed. It wasn't the first time he was grateful for sharing a complementary pairing. Mordecai the teacher and Malthus the scientist had a congenial blending, each able to use the knowledge of the other to enhance his own studies. Mordecai might not always like the way Malthus went about his business, but he respected the scientist, and Malthus truly respected his host—even if he did have to let Mordecai do the talking now and again. 'I promise, I won't force the issue, but I will get that material. Somehow...' Already anticipating success, Malthus called for his assistant. "Donan!"

Donan ran into the room expecting to see Malthus either exultant because an experiment was a success or ready to destroy the laboratory because the experiment had failed again. Instead, he found an exuberant Malthus pacing the room, talking to himself, making plans. "Get the team together. Exhumation and containment equipment should suffice. We must go to Earth as soon as possible."

'….Malthus, you are to meet with the Council in a few hours …'

The Tok'ra stopped still in his tracks, his excitement only slightly abated. "Donan, I must attend the Council meeting later today. We'll leave tomorrow and prepare for a short trip, but bring weapons. We may need them."

Donan didn't stop to wonder, he just turned to carry out Malthus' orders. Whatever they were about to do should be an interesting excursion. All trips involving the Tau'ri were interesting.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

LOKI'S SHIP

Angrboda stood silently as she watched Loki walk to his laboratory. Her mate was decidedly silent, his manner aloof and mysterious. She had been opposed to his plan of action, but Loki was determined to succeed, no matter what the cost.

From her vantage point, she could see Loki wave his hand over a wall panel. A small drawer ejected from another hidden panel. It was the location of Loki's more delicate technological devices. She watched as he meticulously sorted through the objects stored in orderly rows in the drawer. She could hear him muttering to himself as he searched for … ah, yes. He found what he was looking for. Very carefully, he pulled two very tiny disks from the assortment. It was two tiny, almost metallic-looking disks, both miniscule when compared to the small appendage—two small neural implants.

In Loki's hands were the weapons he needed to help the plan to succeed.

Yes. The means of revenge. Subtle, easily delivered with an absolutely assured success. The hand that held the disks would destroy the one whose hand had destroyed their children.

Loki would have what he had brought them there for. He would have his long sought for revenge.

"Innocents will be harmed by our actions," she said, her voice filling the room.

"I will protect all who I am able," Loki answered as she approached him.

"Apophis has given you his instructions," she stated.

"He has. We are to restore Queen Amaunet to life. He is also making plans to capture Daniel Jackson." Loki placed the small disks into a protective container and then placed it with the portable equipment he would take with him to Abydos.

Angrboda had never heard Loki speak so dispassionately of another living being. His attitude toward the Tau'ri was one of an indulgent parent to a recalcitrant child, but like Thor, he truly liked them. Yet, to be so cold toward one of them … "Daniel Jackson—"

"Daniel Jackson will survive. I will take all precautions to ensure that, but I cannot prevent him from being harmed. That will be necessary for us to claim vengeance on Apophis.

"Any harmful action endured by Daniel Jackson will provoke a negative reaction from O'Neill. That, in turn, will cause Thor to administer punishment for those actions. His punishment may prove to be more dire than we would expect."

Angrboda spoke the truth to remind Loki of the dangerous path he was walking. Revenge knew no bounds, but despite her warnings and no matter what the personal cost, Loki would gain his vengeance over Apophis. She knew this without doubt.

"I will take full responsibility for our actions. I will pay any penalty Thor wishes to impart, but Apophis will pay for his crimes. The right is ours to take. Thor will not dare argue that."

"No," Angrboda answered calmly. Her own anger at the Goa'uld was great as Loki's, but more reasonable minds would not see the situation as they did. "He will not deny us our right. He swore before Odin and the Asgard Council that he would stand at our side and aid us in any manner necessary. We are acting without him."

They had waited for this moment for long years. Thor had deliberated over every aspect of his plan, studied every angle, considered every contingency. The opportunity had arrived. Loki was in the moment, yet he and Angrboda were alone and without help. "Thor is engaged with other concerns at the moment. Until the negotiations with the border worlds are completed, he could not leave, and we cannot wait. We must act now."

"Our need to act now will not be questioned. Using Daniel Jackson will be." Angrboda was a very patient Asgard. Being with Loki all those ages, she had to be. She, too, had waited for this moment for centuries, but to use a Tau'ri …"Loki, if permanent harm befalls Daniel Jackson—"

"It will not. My plan may not be perfect, but Daniel Jackson will survive and perhaps gain some measure of revenge himself. I know it is not within his nature to seek exactitude, but he will claim it nonetheless. And I will make restitution to him for his suffering."

Angrboda looked as puzzled as an Asgard possibly could. "How will you compensate him for all that Apophis has inflicted on him and his family? On what will happen to him?"

"By returning to him what Apophis has taken."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

SGC—DANIEL'S OFFICE

Daniel looked up from the paperwork on his desk to the picture of Sha'uri sitting beside him. He wanted to reach out and touch it, but it wasn't a substitute for the living, breathing person he longed to hold.

"Good Son," Kasuf's voice sounded from the darkness. "You are troubled?"

Daniel turned and saw Kasuf standing in the doorway of his office. When had his good father arrived? "Yes, I am. Many things have happened, Good Father, and I am not myself."

Kasuf's expression changed to a more compassionate gaze. "You grieve for Sha'uri as I do. I know that pain as well. It will never pass, yet we must learn to live with its presence. But something else disturbs you … it is the Blood of Sokar that remains within you that adds to your distress. It will soon be gone, and you will again feel as yourself."

Daniel saw Kasuf fade and disappear. He rushed to the door only to find an empty corridor. "Good Father? Kasuf?" Only empty echoes answered back.

Daniel walked back into his office and sat down at his desk. He glanced at the picture of Sha'uri sitting on his desk, saw her head turn, her eyes blink, her lips curve in the beautiful smile he longed to see again. Her gentle voice called out to him. "My Dan'yel?"

Daniel reached out to the picture frame, but it moved away from him, shrinking away from his reach. Daniel rushed toward the frame, trying to capture it before it was gone completely, but it fled from his reach—

Daniel jerked his head up. He was sitting at his desk, the last bit of paperwork scattered in front of him. He saw the clock—it was only twenty minutes later than it had been when he last looked—he had dozed off. He'd be glad when the Blood of Sokar was out of his system, if not for the chance of getting a good night's sleep then for the absence of the unusual nightmares he'd been having since they escaped Netu. In a few hours, he'd be sitting in the passenger's seat of a truck headed toward Minnesota.

He didn't really want to go, but he needed the distraction, and Jack needed to feel like he was doing something. There were many uncertainties in life, but one absolute was the fact that Jack O'Neill didn't like feeling helpless when a friend was hurting. If it made Jack feel better, then maybe it was worth the trip.

Daniel sat there, his gaze on the picture frame that had eluded him in his dream. He reached out and took it, not allowing it to escape. Maybe the dream was a lesson of sorts. He had sought Sha'uri for three years, and she was always out of his reach. No matter how hard he tried or how far he reached, she was just out of arm's length.

He missed her. No amount of time anywhere was going to change that.

He felt a small tear start to form and fall down his cheek. He wasn't sure if the tear came from his own loneliness or from the emotional downs brought about by the Blood of Sokar. He wasn't sure of anything at that moment. All he knew is that he hurt, and he didn't know what he was hurting from.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

DAY THREE—APOPHIS' HA'TAK

"Abydos, My Lord." The First Prime watched the view screen with Apophis as the planet grew larger. "Shall we prepare to transport to the surface now?"

Apophis thought for a moment as he gazed at the planet. It was a barren, sandy place. He didn't prefer to hold court over this type of planet, but Ra was never as particular. While Apophis preferred lush, verdant areas, Ra enjoyed the climates that placed harshness on the everyday lives of the people. That way, they would depend on him more for their existence. It was a false dependence, Apophis realized. Humans were highly adaptable and could thrive under almost any condition. This, he had learned through the memories of countless hosts. Ra had only the one human host, the one that he possessed when Daniel Jackson and O'Neill killed him. Therefore, Ra had little understanding of his slaves. Had he been more aware of their foibles and eccentricities, he would not have been so clumsy as to allow the Abydonians and two Tau'ri to beat him. It was a fateful lesson all Goa'ulds had learned from.

"My Lord?" Kintac asked a second time.

Apophis decided. "Land the ha'tak at the pyramid. We will transport down. Choose four Jaffa to travel with us to the grave, and another four including Sar'ac to accompany Klorel. I want no surprises."

"It will be as you wish, My Lord." The First Prime bowed and left to follow his master's bidding.

Klorel and Loki stood by quietly in the throne room as well. Both remained silent as they waited for the System Lord to give them their instructions.

"You are certain your device will work," Apophis almost nervously asked the Asgard.

"That it will work? Quite certain. That it will work correctly is another matter. That is dependent on the condition of your queen's host body, Your Majesty. The device is a derivation of one of the Ancient's devices. They had tried to alter time, but were unsuccessful. My research has proven that their failure was based on the parameters of their experiment. They were using a planet as a basis. Such a large-scale attempt was disastrous. The effects could not be contained within our temporal continuum and created a time loop that did not alter the timeline. However, when used on a small-scale application as you are proposing, I have had great success. But I must warn you, I have never attempted such an experiment as you have requested. There may be … unseen complications that cannot be accounted for nor corrected."

How many times would the Asgard repeat himself? Apophis had been told this before. Loki had impressed upon him the fact that this had never been tried, and that the device could only be utilized for this particular use once. A second time risked discovery by the Asgard, and both Apophis and Loki wanted to avoid that by any means possible. How many … then Apophis realized that the Asgard did not wish to raise the System Lord's hopes. There was a great chance that their mission would fail. "I understand. You will not be held responsible should the process not be successful. I realize you are making a great sacrifice by agreeing to assist me."

"No, Your Majesty. I make no sacrifice by returning your queen to you. I wish only to help."

If an Asgard's expressions could be interpreted, Apophis would almost say that Loki was acting smug—very uncharacteristic of an Asgard. He waved his hand and dismissed Loki. He had to tread cautiously. This annoying little cretin could be the only chance Apophis had of retrieving what was his. Motioning for Klorel to come forward, he asked in a low voice, "Do you know what you have to do, my son?"

Klorel, fully understanding what his father wished but not fully understanding why, answered truthfully. "Yes, Father. But what purpose does the old man serve? How can he help you retrieve our queen?"

"He is not required to help the Asgard. I need the old man to bring me my new host."

Klorel smiled at the knowledge that Apophis was interested in a change of residence. "A new host, Father? Who?"

With a frightening smile, Apophis answered, "Daniel Jackson."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

NAGADA

Abydos before sunrise was the quietest moment of the day for the soon-to-be bustling town. Although the farmers would have been up and working in the fields and the herdsmen tending to the animals before the first rays of sunlight draped over the mountains, most of the townspeople would only be beginning to rouse from sleep. Waking babies would need to be tended to, morning meals cooked and others would be preparing to greet the day. The people would be awake but the town itself had a little longer to sleep.

Usually.

First, there was quiet … intense … profound … no loud noises hiding in the darkness …

The nightmarish screeching of a ha'tak's braking thrusters tore apart the quiet calm. The ship landed at the pyramid … the demons had returned!

City guards ran through the city streets warning that the demons were back. The militia took up arms, prepared to bravely but uselessly defend their city from the death gliders that would inevitably come …

But no death gliders flew over the city.

Only one cargo ship flew from the ha'tak, heading in the opposite direction—toward the desert.

Skaara watched in muted fear at the danger being marched toward Nagada. Klorel was taking him and a small troop of Jaffa over the desert toward the city. He had tried to fight back, tried so desperately hard to stop the Goa'uld inside him from completing Apophis' orders, but Klorel used torturous pain to subdue him. Skaara tried to influence Klorel as he did on the ha'tak flying toward Earth a few years earlier, but it was to no avail.

Apophis' will would be done.

As they entered the city, Skaara heard his name being yelled, watched in abject horror as those people he'd known since childhood were struck down with staff weapons—his name the last word they uttered. Skaara fought for control, just one moment of personal freedom to run away from the Jaffa, to allow one of the militia a clear shot at him, but Klorel again subdued him painfully.

'Fool,' Klorel's voice echoed through the blinding pain. 'You cannot stop us. Your father and the Tau'ri will kneel before Apophis and our revenge against your precious Dan'yer will be enjoyable indeed.'

A stabbing pain splintered through Skaara, pushing him down into the darkness, away from the terror and the bloodshed, away from the knowledge that he was helpless to protect his family and friends against the Goa'uld. When he saw his father being taken prisoner by the Jaffa, he whispered as silently as he could, hopefully too quietly for Klorel to hear him, "Forgive me, Father, Dan'yer."

Yet Klorel heard him. 'Forgive?' the creature laughed. 'Watch as your father bows to me!'

Klorel stood within the protective circle of his personal Jaffa bodyguards as Sar'ac dragged Kasuf before him and threw him to the ground. His host's memories about this human were very clear. Memories of listening to his stories and advice, memories of a devoted father and loving parent …

The older Abydonian stared at Klorel, the hatred intense in his eyes. Hatred, and yet no fear. It seemed that fearlessness was a trait within the family. "I know who you are. You are the demon that has infected my son," the human spat.

The Goa'uld sneered at the insolence. "I am Klorel, son of Apophis. My father has commanded you be brought to him."

"I will not go. Your false god has no power here."

Klorel raised his hand and viciously slapped Kasuf, almost knocking him off his knees. "Come or I will destroy every living creature in this city."

There was a moment of utter quiet, and then Kasuf bowed his head. Klorel quietly laughed. The human knew he had no choice. After all, the Goa'uld were in control.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

NAGADAN BURIAL GROUNDS

Apophis cursed the sand.

As the four Jaffa toiled to remove the body from its grave, the sand would fall back into the pit. It was a slow, laborious process. They never once glanced at their master, only kept shoveling the sand out of the pit as quickly as they could.

Apophis was not known for his patience.

He waited. Loki and Kintac waited quietly beside him. Apophis' mind was more focused than it had ever been before. His goals were not unreachable—a simple plan in the making, a complex task to perform, a series of retributionary acts that he would personally administer. He was a very busy god. Waiting was not conducive to his good humor.

The sands were finally convinced to release their hold on the shrouded body. Once the grains had been swept away, the Jaffa carefully lifted their queen out of her grave and placed her at Apophis' feet. The Goa'uld knelt beside his beloved and carefully removed the primitive burial wrappings from her face. The hair, the skin … she appeared to be only sleeping. He touched her cheek, her lips … yes. Just as he remembered. Beautiful.

"Your Majesty, I do not wish to intrude upon this moment, but we do not have much time," Loki informed him.

Time. Time was the enemy. "Of course. What do you require of me?"

"Only that you step back and allow me to examine the cellular degradation. I will work swiftly."

Apophis wordlessly obeyed and stepped back.

Loki motioned for Kintac to pass him one of the hand-held devices that they had brought with them. He removed a miniscule disk and watched as it activated.

"What is that?" Apophis asked.

"It is a neural implant module. It will allow me to more accurately gauge the degradation and mental activity," Loki explained as he placed the implant at the base of Sha'uri's skull and waited until it was absorbed through the skin. "It will temporarily attach itself to the brain stem and will then be absorbed by the body within a few days. I will need all information possible in order to secure every chance of a successful result. "

Loki swept the hand-held device over the body. After a few long moments, all of which Apophis carefully watched every move the Asgard made, he saw the hand-held device glow. Finally, Loki said, "Your Majesty, the cellular degradation is minimal. If you would have the Jaffa move her into the shuttle, I will attempt to resurrect her."

A quick jerk of Apophis' hand made the Jaffa move quickly. They raised the body from the sand and carried her into the shuttle. Before Apophis and Kintac could follow, Loki stopped them. "I must do this alone. The technology works best if there are few living beings in close proximity to the temporal device. The energy field a living creature generates could presumably interfere with the process. I would not wish to endanger the results."

Alone? Apophis wanted to be the first person Amaunet saw when she awoke, but if he had to be separated from her in order for her to awaken …" Of course. We will wait here. Will that be sufficient?"

"It will be. I will try to be expedient, Your Majesty, but this procedure is delicate. I must take extreme precautions, and I must be allowed the time to take care in each step of the process."

"I understand," Apophis said almost patiently. In moments, perhaps minutes, his queen would once again be by his side. He could afford to be patient, but only for those few moments. He watched as the Asgard walked alone into the shuttle.

He only had to wait those few moments, maybe minutes, and then his patience would be rewarded.

"My pharaoh," Kintac pointed beyond the shuttle, "Klorel comes."

"Ah," Apophis watched his son lead the small brigade. "This will occupy our time until the Asgard has fulfilled his obligation."

Very quickly, Klorel and his Jaffa traversed the distance and forced Kasuf to his knees before Apophis. The Goa'uld walked slowly around Kasuf as if determining his worth. He wasn't pleased with the sight. "This is the slave's father?"

"Yes." Klorel grabbed Kasuf's chin and forced him to look up at them, reinforcing his position as a mere slave whose life was dependent on the Goa'ulds' good will.

"He will further my plan well," Apophis cackled. "Pathetic slaves. They are so easily manipulated." He motioned toward the Jaffa standing behind Kasuf. "Sar'ac, give me your symbiote."

Without a single word of protest, the Jaffa reached into his pouch and withdrew his prim'ta. Apophis took hold of the creature, his eyes glowing in exultation. "Varos," he spoke solely to the symbiote, "You have served me well many years. As befitting your title and duties and your loyalty to me, I have always allowed you to choose your own host. However, I must insist you take this human as your next host. I have great need of him and of you controlling him for a short time. Will you accommodate me?"

The symbiote screeched and moved its head in acquiescence. Whatever his pharaoh wanted, Varos would perform without question. He always had.

The human was much older than Apophis liked for Varos' hosts, but he needed the slave for a deified purpose. So be it. Once the plan came to fruition, Varos could always choose another, and Apophis would get him any host he wanted as a reward for successfully obeying his orders.

Varos sounded one more screech, as if sounding a warning to his pharaoh. Apophis merely smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, there are dangers in taking an entire family as hosts, but I accept those dangers in this case. I will have my revenge."

~o~o~o~

Kasuf had known fear.

Under Ra's rule, he had watched as his people lived and died by the god's whim. He witnessed the deaths of many and saw the cruel unjust punishments of even more. Ra terrorized them ruthlessly and without mercy.

Yet, at that precise moment, Kasuf would have gladly welcomed that fear to the ones he had suffered through for over three years and the one he was staring at. He'd survived the greatest fear any parent could experience when he lost all three of his children in one helpless moment. And now, his worst nightmares were coming true.

His son … no, not his son. The demon inside Skaara stared at Kasuf through his son's eyes with hatred and disdain. Kasuf knew that Skaara was trapped within his mind, forced to watch the spectacle of oppression about to take place. What had Dan'yer told him? The host was helpless against the power of the demon? Kasuf knew that Skaara would be unable to stop the proceedings. At least Dan'yer was not there at that moment—one of his sons was safe.

In one last show of defiance, Kasuf glared at the demon that stole his children from him, who placed his mate in Sha'uri, who placed his son in Skaara and who hunted Dan'yer.

He would not be subdued quietly. Kasuf swore to this to himself. He would not allow the demon an easy victory.

~o~o~o~

Loki was alone in the shuttle … for the moment.

Sha'uri's body lay on a table-like structure. Death had not robbed her of her beauty—or so Loki thought the humans would believe. Stories of certain humans reached even the Asgard, Daniel Jackson among them. His search for his kidnapped wife had taken on heroic, almost mythical qualities even amongst the most advanced races. There was an irony to be found in the tales that a forgotten people on a lost world were destroying the Goa'ulds' empire one symbiote at a time.

Without further delay, Loki activated the temporal manipulator and waited for the indicator to show its readiness. He wasn't absolutely certain that he would be successful, but he knew enough to surmise the outcome. The temporal manipulator was once thought to be the ultimate panacea to universal ills, but the attempts to control time on a planetary scale had proved unattainable. On a much smaller determinable use, it had worked.

It had to work now.

One last check of the neural implant showed that it was active and functioning properly. The temporal manipulator was ready. Loki was prepared. He placed the temporal manipulator at Sha'uri's head and stepped back.

All he could do now was wait.

Within moments, a beam emitted from the device and enveloped Sha'uri's body. Loki watched as the pulsating energy wave moved and danced over the human. As the light grew, it hummed ever louder, reversing the cellular degradation, reversing time within its limited realm of influence.

As he waited for the first signs of life from the dead human, he heard an agonized, piercing scream echo from outside. It was a new voice, an older voice … no. With a sudden clarity of thought and realization, Loki immediately understood that his actions were now party to placing another innocent in harm's way. He had been too reckless to consider the bystanders … he knew what had just happened.

Thor would never forgive him for that.