DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.  Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).

"Spit it out Daniel," O'Neill said, puzzled. He hadn't seen Daniel quite so reticent in a long time.

"Teal'c's been taken to be reconditioned," Daniel said and before he could go on, O'Neill put his hand on his arm.

"Just a minute. Reconditioned? For what?" he asked puzzled.

"To become Khepera's first Jaffa," Daniel said simply. He was trying to make this as painless as possible. He was failing.

"More details?" O'Neill asked, his eyes boring into Daniel's, a mixture of concern and anger reflected in his eyes.

Daniel sighed. "Okay, you want it, you got it. Khepera sees Teal'c as ideal for building up his new army. He's Jaffa and he carries the only other Goa'uld on this planet. By subverting Teal'c he has a powerful warrior in his army. Khepera knows that without Ra's support he has to build his own forces here, where no one knows he is. Then he can strike against Heru'ur and Sokar and whoever else is out there."

O'Neill raised an eyebrow. "Teal'c won't subvert very easily," he said.

Daniel looked down.

"What?" O'Neill said, somewhat alarmed at his friend's attitude. Sure Teal'c was in trouble but he was strong. Trying to subvert him probably wouldn't work anyway.

"Khepera's methods of subversion are apparently unique," Daniel muttered.

"Like?"

"Like fitting him with an implant. An organic implant. One which will live in harmony with his larva but won't let him do anything to go against Khepera." Daniel answered.

"And you know all this because?"

"Zophra took great delight in telling me all about it once they'd put us in here. I guess he figured we can't do anything to stop it." Daniel said.

"And Carter?"

Daniel shook his head. "You're not going to like this either."

"Like I really like what they're doing to Teal'c? Come on Danny, spill it."

"Khepera's going to use her as a host in some sort of genetic experiment." Daniel raised his eyes to look at O'Neill.

"You said that there were no other Goa'uld larva on the planet," O'Neill said, his mind racing, his nerves on edge.

"And there aren't. Jack, Khepera's been working on genetically creating a new species. A species he can call his own. A species to populate his armies, and populate his world. Remember, I told you he was the God of self-generation and self-renewal. He's probably been experimenting genetically for hundreds of years in some form or other. You can see from the guards that he's modified reptilian and human DNA. You saw the guards' skin doesn't penetrate easily. But he wants more, Jack. Much more."

"Do I want to know this?" O'Neill said, looking doubtful.

"I guess you should know what we're up against," Daniel replied and got to his feet. He turned and stared through the bars at nothing in particular.

"Selphic's managed to combine the reptilian/human DNA with something else. I'm not sure what, but they're sure excited about it. They're going to use Sam as a genetic guinea pig to see if it can survive. If it can, then we'll be next on his list."

Jack kicked at the wall angrily.

Sam looked around her. The room was basic but spotlessly clean. She'd been sitting for what seemed like an eternity, waiting. She was worried about the others. Jack had been hit by that energy weapon and Daniel looked horrified as she'd been led away after Teal'c. She didn't like Selphic one bit. She'd been put in this room, sat on a chair and then they'd locked the door. No word of explanation, nothing.

Then suddenly the door opened.

"We need to take some blood," Selphic announced as she walked in. She reached forward for Sam's arm, her eyes flashing as she spoke.

Sam backed away from the chair and folded her arms. She wasn't about to co-operate with them.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, conscious or unconscious," Selphic said as she snapped her fingers and two guards entered the room.

Sam contemplated their weapons and knew that she was no good to the others if she lay unconscious for the next hour. Reluctantly she stretched her arm forward.

"Good," Selphic muttered as she roughly gripped Sam's arm and placed a small round instrument on the skin. She pressed a button. A slight stinging and red liquid flushed into the container. She placed a small pad on the wound and moved to go out of the room.

"Wait. I need to know why I'm here. I need to know where my friends are," Sam said.

"Your friends are well. For the moment. You will be reunited soon enough. You are here because you have been honoured by the great God, Khepera. You are his chosen one."

"Wait...." The door closed behind Selphic. Sam folded her arm and rubbed the pad across the skin ruefully. She felt a sense of relief that her friends were all right, but being Khepera's chosen one sounded a dubious honour somehow.

Sam sat back on the seat and waited.

The passageway was dark as it always was. Dark and damp. The stones here were rough, a sure sign that the passage wasn't used much. That was to his advantage. Forgotten routes, forgotten ways, forgotten lives. The youngster edged towards the corner of the wall, his stealth his best weapon.

This part of the palace outer-ring was abandoned. Khepera didn't think he needed to defend against attack from outside. The threat was always from within, from the ring of water in the bowels of the palace and from beyond.

Tornak pulled the roughly made hood over his head and gripped his blade tightly. He didn't want to use it, didn't want to kill anyone. The guards knew no better. Crafted from something Tornak didn't understand fully, they were pure servants to Khepera, knowing nothing of their heritage, of the men and women who had died to give them life. Without the building blocks of life, the composites would not exist. Tornak knew that. Tornak had been taught that. Tornak wanted to teach others about it, but there were few others left. Few humans, to pass his knowledge to. It is as it must be. His teacher warned him to stay hidden, stay away from the center of the palace. Now Tornak had strayed too far in and yet had been rewarded by sight of them. Sight of the newcomers. Tornak had to tell his teacher and warn him. Warn him that the day of reckoning approached, as he had been told it would.

The large hand, which smothered his mouth suddenly and took his breath from his throat, was familiar. Tornak relaxed into the stranglehold.

"You'll get yourself taken through the ring, boy, one of these days," the rough voice hissed steadily in his ear and then dragged him quietly to the side and through a dark passage to their left.

The smell of decay greeted their nostrils as they made their way slowly down towards the deep chamber. Down beneath the inner part of the palace and extending towards the outer defences, the chamber lay well behind the Gate chamber, out of sight and forgotten by all but the few humans who remained within the palace perimeter. Humans who poked at the defences and sometimes won. Small victories, small annoyances to Khepera, but victories all the same.

"Morphan, you'll scare me so much one day," the boy chided insolently and was playfully cuffed by the older man.

"Saving your sorry backside, boy, and that's all the thanks I get," the older man said laughing as he greeted the two men who guarded the entrance to a smaller chamber at the rear, an almost mirror image to the Gate chamber.

The chamber was basic but comfortable. A low bed, curtained behind a wooden bench and table. Some shelves which held books and writing material. Morphan lit a candle and placed it on the table. He gestured for the boy to sit.

"I have news, teacher," the boy said, sitting down on the bench, his heart racing at the news he was about to impart, a strange cocktail of excitement and fear.

Morphan turned to his pupil and smiled.

"And what news is so important that you risk your freedom for it, boy?"

"The ring has given up four strangers to Khepera, teacher. Three men and a woman. A flaxen haired woman, teacher."

Morphan's eyes narrowed. "And the men? They are as we are? Not composites?"

"No, teacher, they are not. They are as we are. All except one. One has a strange mark here," and the boy touched the center of this forehead swiftly. "His head bears no hair and he carries a weapon as you have warned me the Ring bearers do."

Morphan turned and lifting a jug from the table, he poured straw colored fluid into two mugs and passed one to the boy. Tornak gratefully sipped at the liquid.

"It is time, isn't it teacher?" the boy said.

"It is time, my boy, it is time. Go to the perimeter and seek out Sten and his men. Tell them to come to me."

Tornak drained his cup and wiped a grimy hand across his mouth. He hesitated momentarily and then risked mentioning it. "And those down below?" he asked, his eyes reflecting terror and excitement.

"I have told you not to speak of them, Tornak. They are not to be disturbed. Not yet. Their time will come soon enough, soon enough," Morphan said and smiled gently.

"Are you pleased with me, teacher?" Tornak said as he wrapped his cloak around him and eyed his teacher warily.

"You have done well, my boy. You have done well. Now go with all haste. Before it is too late."

As the boy turned to leave, Morphan put his hand on his shoulder and turned him to face him.

"Tell me, Tornak. The woman? Is she with Khepera yet?"

The boy shook his head, his eyes burning. "Selphic has her. I saw them take her to her rooms."

Morphan's spirits rose. "Then it is not too late. Go, go with speed, my boy. Bring me Sten."

The boy nodded and fled, upward through the chamber and back through the passage towards the palace perimeter and Sten's people.

In the small chamber, Morphan extinguished the candle and sat down to think. He bowed his head for a minute and then raised it. His eyes glowed bright, an illumination never seen by his pupil. His voice, deeper, in control, called for his two guards.

They bowed in deference.

Morphan faced them and raised his hands. "Send word to the creatures below. Tell them to prepare."

Then he uttered four words, but the words were enough.

"Tok'ra, it is time."

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