"Contrary to what you may believe Samantha I do not enjoy this."

'Yeah right.'

Sam was on her knees, hands tied behind her back, blood seeping from a deep gash above her collarbone… staining her caftan. Twisting her hands against her bonds Sam glared up at Ptah. The blade that had cut her flesh dangled dangerously close to her throat, forcing her to take shallow breaths to avoid coming into contact with it.

Ptah knelt towards her, keeping the blade level with her chin. "When you wake up I will be waiting to take you to see my laboratory. With your help we will achieve our goal. Imagine living for eternity, never aging. No pain. Everlasting youth. You cannot tell me that you are not interested in such an endeavour."

'When I wake up? Our goal?'

Sam's heart skipped a beat, her bravado struggling to mask its fear.

"Nope, not interested a bit."

'God, not the sarcophagus again… and please, anything but asphyxiation…"

A sly smile crept into Ptah's features. "You will change your mind once you see my work." Ptah pulled Sam to her feet, hot pain fizzled down her right shoulder from the wound on her chest.

Her hiss came through clenched teeth, "I don't think so."

"Everybody breaks Samantha. You will be no different."

Strong hands seized her from behind. Sam didn't even get to turn around before she felt the first blow. Her cry of pain was cut short by another blow, and another, and another…

Ptah sat on a low lounge and folded his arms across his broad chest, watching. There was something entertaining in torture executed the 'old fashioned' way. The Jaffa had been ordered not to kill her, but Ptah thought better to watch just in case. Sam had chosen the wrong Jaffa to mess with.

"You killed my brother!"

'Shit'

Sam couldn't fight back; her hands were still bound, digging deep into her wrists. Hot pain shot across her chest as her ribs broke, as her shoulder dislocated. Blood trickled from a new gash in her forehead, obscuring her vision. She didn't know if she was still crying out in pain, or if the screaming was in her head. It didn't really matter, it hurt just the same. The feeling of vulnerability was almost as unbearable as the agony of broken bones and torn flesh.

The Jaffa was relentless, a wild look frozen in his eyes, and he was almost frothing at the mouth as he stabbed his toes into Carter's side. Sam coughed, choking in the blood that was now filling her throat. Not entirely satisfied, he flung himself over her, swiping a clenched fist across her cheek, curling his fingers around her neck…

"Stop!"

Ptah was on his feet, the look of amusement replaced with a cold stare. Perhaps his choice of First Prime had been a mistake after all.

"My brother…"

"Your brother was foolish and weak! Beaten to death by a woman. Enough."

The burly Jaffa released his grip and stood up. Using the heel of his boot he pushed Sam onto her side to stop her from drowning in her own blood. His distaste was evident as he muttered profanities and flexed his hands.

Her head was spinning, the pain was so intense. Every muscle, every bone screamed in agony, and breathing sent her chest into heaving spasms. Broken ribs grated against raw nerves, her shoulder had been wrenched from its socket… and she was now lying on it. All she could smell was the blood in her nostrils, all she could see was darkness. Her ears rang in a deafening high pitched squeal that came in waves.

'So much pain…'

Hands on his hips, Ptah watched her as she struggled to breathe. When her agonised moans finally stopped, the Jaffa felt the sting of victory.

"My Lord, I shall escort her to the sarcophagus."

"No, there is no need. She is not dead. The sarcophagus will only make her strong again." Ptah knelt to run a hand through Sam's blood streaked hair, "And we wouldn't want that now would we."

Disappointment laced the Jaffa's tone "My Lord?"

Ptah's First Prime wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. Sometimes Ptah wished that he had a son to carry out his most important tasks rather than this bumbling excuse for a Jaffa. Perhaps Major Carter would be useful in more ways than one.

"She is afraid, hungry, and now she is also injured. She will be easier to bend. No, there will be no sarcophagus for her this time. Take her to my quarters and have her seen to, and this time, make sure she doesn't escape before I get back. Or it will be your head."

Snorting in utter disgust, Ptah's First Prime slung Major Carter's limp body over his shoulder and strode out the door. Ptah sighed and made for his laboratory. Soon, very soon he would reap the rewards of his hardship.

"Whoa… what's uh, what's with… that?" Jack stabbed a finger at the huge glittering blob in orbit above Elysium. They'd made it in record speed, if you could call a gruelling 12 hours speedy. The small Tel'tak slowed as they approached. Jacob hit the cloak and they hovered overhead, squinting at the ship before them. Somehow Ptah had managed to cover the entire ship in a very bright, very tacky gold paint.

"It is exceedingly shiny." Ajax squinted violently through the glass.

"I guess if you've got time to spare, which Ptah obviously does, external decorating becomes popular. It's kinda cool…" Daniel had managed to clean up nicely, both physically and hopefully mentally, which Jack was eternally grateful for.

"You're kidding? That's a royal eye sore… and then some! They can put as much gold paint on the thing as they want, it'll blow up just the same."

"It appears Ptah's ego surpasses even my understanding."

Jack flicked his sunglasses over his eyes and glared through them at Teal'c, "And that can't be a good thing right?"

A smile was his answer, followed by an even more satisfying statement, "It shall be a victory indeed to lay waste to such a blatant display of Goa'uld pomposity."

Jack snorted in utter amusement, "Couldn't have said it better myself T. Alright campers, time to go. Take one last look, it's gonna be the last."

Jacob rose from his chair and watched silently as his passengers hefted weapons over shoulders, crammed MRE's into pockets and chatted quietly about how they were going to destroy Ptah's ship. He wanted nothing more than to join them. Right now he wished he didn't have a tiring Tok'ra council to attend. Maybe he could skip it and just say he got lost… Selmak wasn't happy with Jacob's current train of thought though, which wouldn't make that possible. Sighing, he ushered everyone to the rings.

"Be careful. It's a long flight back here if I have to rescue you lot."

"We'll be fine."

Jacob wasn't convinced, "Jack, how are you going to get out?"

"Oh I dunno, rings, gliders or maybe something Carter Junior has up her sleeve."

"Didn't think of that." Jacob smiled, glad to hell that his daughter had such a loyal team behind her.

"See you back at the SGC?"

"Deal. Good luck." There was pretty much nothing more to say. Jacob punched the symbols to activate the rings. In a flash, everyone was gone; glancing out the window he watched the blue stream of light penetrate Ptah's ship. When the light receded, so did he. Manoeuvring the Tel'tak around he began his long flight back, wishing to hell that he was down there with them all.