Power - Strength or force exerted or capable of being exerted; might.

-November 1999-

Just when I thought I was dead, they bring me back again.  What do I need to say to get this snakehead to end my life once and for all?  Hey, be careful!  Those knees need to last me for another five or six deaths.  Oh crap, I'm in the throne room. 

Okay, this is not good. If there is anything worse than one Goa'uld, it's two - and they are smiling. Although I'm not sure you can count those as smiles. More like involuntary muscle twitches.

"A present for you, my queen." Hey didn't he already have one of those. That one didn't work out too well.

"If at first you don't succeed, Apophis?" I really have to work on my insults. Not exactly effective when you sound like a frog.

"I am going to enjoy watching you die, Tau'ri scum." Oh great, more entertainment for the masses. Can we just get on with it? The suspense is killing me. How do you want me? Kneeling with my head bowed? Nailed to a cross? Held between two Jaffa while you two take pot shots at me? Sorry, can't stand on my own. My strength gave out days ago.

"You have one of the Tau'ri, how fortunate…for me." You know, I thought she was a bitch when she was on Earth. I don't think she's improved with time.

"You approve, my queen?"  Hmm, fawning sycophant just doesn't work well on Apophis.  And I don't like that look in Niirti's eyes.

"My Lord. I have an idea." Oh boy, I don't like the sound of that. Please…just kill me and put me out of my misery. I'd beg, but I already know it wouldn't do any good. There simply isn't an ounce of humanity in a Goa'uld.

"They don't know he's alive. He will be my pet."

If anyone ever asks me which is more dangerous, a guy snakehead out for revenge or a female Goa'uld with plans to take over the universe, I'll go with a woman every time. Every single fucking time. They plan for the long term, seeing not only the big picture, but the little picture too. They have better impulse control.

I am so dead.

~~~

"Die for your god."  What is wrong with these people?  Can't they take a hint?

"No." 

It's the same thing over and over again. A wounded soldier is worthless, of no use to their god. Glory equals victory or death.

I never know when I'm going to be punished. Never know when I've done anything wrong.  I've been beaten within an inch of my life for daring to look Niirti in the eye.  Ignored at other times, for daring to hit Apophis' Prime. And there's always the fear, fear of never waking up or losing a body part.

I'd kill everyone in this room if I thought I had a chance in hell of escaping, but I don't.  I've got to hang on. They'll come for me. Never leave a man behind, isn't that the SG-1 credo? And if I ever get back, I'm never going to complain about the food in the Mess Hall again.

Every damn day, it's the same thing, that bitch Niirti arrives and her Jaffa remove me from the cell to go to the training hall. I fight, I die. I come back.

"Who is your God?" Fuck you asshole. I'm not telling you shit.

Stars, fucking stars. I can't see. Not paying attention.  Where is he? Think, Jack. Listen. I've got to follow their movements. Need to know where the next punch is coming from. Where the next blow is going to land.

I swear, the first thing I'm going to do when I get loose is murder this piece of scum. Dead as a door nail. I want to do it slowly and excruciatingly painful. Make it last for a long time…a very long time. But I know I'm not going to have that pleasure. If I ever want to get out of this hellhole, it'll be quick, clean and move on to the next guy.

Apophis sure has come down in the world if this guy is his Prime.  He needs some anger management for dissidents.

Duck.  Parry.  Hit.  Crap.  I'm dead.  Last thing I see before the shot from the staff weapon hits me is his smile.  Just wait, dog face.  One day, I'm actually going to have a gun.

~~~

I awoke hanging from the ceiling of Apophis' dungeon again.  What have I forgotten, what rule did I mess up?  That bitch has no right...I don't deserve this…do I?

Christ, dogface is back and I start to sweat.  I know what's coming next, the whip.  It's a struggle to breathe.  Sparks dance before my eyes, white dots flashing in and out of the darkness as the leather hits my skin, blood seeping from the criss-crossed welts on my back sliding down the back of my thighs to floor.  I'm going insane.

"Who is your god?"  Niirti.  Queen Bitch.  The voice I will forever associate with hell. 

"Not. Mine."  I can barely talk my voice is so raw.  Doesn't matter.  The whip only stopped for a second.

"Wrong answer, Tau'ri."

What I wouldn't do for something to eat.  Something to drink.  My dreams are filled with thoughts of steaks and beer, or even better a glass of whiskey with a touch of tonic water. 

"Who is your god?" 

"Jesus Christ."

Fuck off lady. 

"I will ask you one more time, Slave."  Come on bitch.  Closer.  Closer.  Just one more step.  That's all I ask.  One more so I can reach your face.  I'll bite your fucking nose off.

"Who. Is. Your. God."

"I have only one god, and it ain't you."  I froze, wrong fucking thing to say.  Way to go Jack.  Just what the bitch wanted to hear. Niirti had an evil smile plastered across her face with eyes colder than the Antarctic. I waited to see what her response would be and from the looks of it, I should have kept my big mouth shut.

"Castrate him."

"Wait!"

"You had your chance, Tau'ri." 

"I'll do anything you want."

"Anything?"  Sadistic bitch.   Christ, yes.

"Yes."

"Cut him loose."

I fell to the floor in a heap.

"Kneel at the foot of your god, Slave."

That's all I need to do to stop this pain. All I have to do is cross that line, kneel at her feet. I can do that. It doesn't mean anything. Claim to be her servant. I can pretend.

God, it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

"See, my pet. Was that so hard?" Just stick me in the Sarcophagus, Lady. I did what you asked. "Take him back to his cell.  Continue with the castration."

"No! You can't do this!"

"Remember this well, Tau'ri. I can do anything I want. You will never forget another lesson again…will you?"

I don't care how it looks. I start begging, pleading. Fuck, screaming one word as I'm dragged off,  "NO!" Did I really expect her to listen? Not really, but God I wanted her to. No man should have to live like this. She really is one sick, twisted bitch.

"Make sure he is fed and cleaned before I visit tomorrow."

~~~

"On your feet slave."

Screaming. Who's screaming? Shut him up, I'm trying to die over here in my corner. Oh fuck, I can't move, can't breathe…

"Shut up, Tau'ri or I'll do it again."

"Right." I gasp.

I try to breathe again and keep out of kicking distance at the same time. I remember this guy, he's got a wicked left. I've lost three fingers to his boots, not counting how many times he's cracked ribs when I didn't move fast enough. I'm trying to get up off the floor but something's not working right. Like something's missing.

No, oh god no. Shaking my head, I pull back against the wall. This can't be happening. Can't be happening. I think I'm going to puke. I think I'm going to pass out. Hell, why fight it? If I'm lucky, I'll bleed to death. I let the darkness take me.

~~~

"Get him on his feet."

No.  Not again.  Go away.

"Come, My Pet.  Time to wake up."

No.

"I said to open your eyes, Slave."

Pain.  Yes.  Must listen.  I need to listen.  Don't forget.  Never forget.  I open my eyes.  "Yes, Mistress."

~~~

"So what's it going to be Jack? Are we going to continue dancing around each other or do something about it?"

Have you ever been handed your best wet dream on a silver platter? That was Daniel. Standing there on my doorstep. In the rain. His eyes focused solely on me.

"What do you want Jack?"

"You…" The hell with the Air Force. I could live without it.

He took the keys from my hand and led me into the house. I was nervous. Didn't know what to expect. Do I kiss him? Touch him? Where to even begin.

All those questions silenced with one fell swoop, Daniel leaned in and kissed me. It was so soft, so gentle, so giving. Giving me what I needed. His hands cupped my face, thumbs rubbing along my jaw. Every caress special. Almost as if his hands were talking.

Pulled me into his arms. And it was an explosion of heat and cold and fire and water and everything in-between.

"I think we're a little wet, Jack." He murmurs against my lips.

"Ya think?"

He laughed and started pealing clothes off. Mine and his. Leaving a trail down the hall way as he pulls me to the bedroom. I guess that's so we can find our way to the kitchen in the morning?

He falls back onto my bed naked, watching as I finish pulling my pants off. Sweet Jesus, all that smooth skin and tanned from head to toe. What in the hell am I doing falling in love again? I'm forty-three years old.

"Come to bed, Jack." And just like that, I'm doing what he says…the civilian ordering the CO around. Should I call him 'Sir'?

~~~