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).

Part Five: by PHO

WHAM! The metal plate hit the door with what should have been a satisfying clang, but somehow all it was, was noisy. Not to mention messy. Daniel stared dejectedly at what passed for food on Boch's ship as it rolled its way down the door. Maybe, just maybe he should have eaten some of that. A high-pitched squeaking noise attracted his attention, and he watched, with something akin to awe, as a little mechanical creature appeared from a small, almost invisible, door in the wall. Less than twelve inches high, it reminded Daniel of a very large mouse. Small metal antennae wiggled and twirled on its 'head' as the device aimed for the mess he'd made. Amazed, he watched as it carefully cleaned up every last morsel of his dinner, used a little hook inside it's chest to lift the plate to balance on its head, then turned and whirred its way back into the wall. The only thing it hadn't done was belch. As the little door snapped shut, Daniel groaned and threw himself down onto the bed. "Damn it, Daniel. You've got to do something. If Sam were here, she'd probably catch the mouse, rearrange its circuits, overload the door, and steal the ship." However silly that thought, Daniel could think of nothing else to do but wait to be rescued. The thought of not being found, and soon, was too horrible to contemplate.

Forty-eight hours. It had been forty-eight hours since Daniel's hat had turned up, battered and covered with sand. It was now cleaner than it had been since Daniel had acquired it. God. When had* that been? Jack couldn't remember. He stared at the misshapen green rim sitting in the center of the briefing room table. Suddenly, all the rage he'd felt since they'd found the ship's imprints in the sand surfaced, and he slammed both fists hard onto the tabletop.

"Colonel?" Sam's voice trembled with emotion as she stopped in the doorway.

Jack just looked at her, dark shadows under his eyes telling of too little sleep of late. "Two thousand eight hundred eighty."

"Sir?"

He rose tiredly from his chair. "Number of minutes in forty-eight hours. God, Sam, he could be dead by now ... or a slave, or a Jaffa."

Sam noticed he avoided the thing he feared the most ... that Daniel's brilliant mind and gentle heart were now imprisoned by a Goa'uld ... that he was now a host. "The Tok'ra apparently have news. Representatives will ...," the Klaxons went off, alerting the base to off-world travelers, "... are apparently here now."

"Sweet. After you, Major."

Twenty minutes later, an unusual group of people found themselves gathered around the conference table. Robert Makepeace sat next to Jack, keeping a concerned eye on his Air Force counterpart. Teal'c was on Jack's left. Sam and Janet Fraiser sat across from the men. Jacob Carter AKA Selmac sat next to his daughter, Martouf had chosen the seat next to him. Hammond arrived moments later, apologizing for his delay. "The President wanted an update. Jacob, Martouf, I'm sorry we have to meet again like this. What have you got for us? Is Doctor Jackson alive?"

Jacob Carter smiled sadly. "Yes, but for how long, we cannot be certain."

Jack's eyes widened as he realized the implications of the Tok'ra's words. "You know where he is."

Martouf spoke up. "No, but we know where he is being taken."

"Why do we always have to pull the information out of you people?"

Jack's frustrated cry brought a frown of disapproval from General Hammond. "Colonel O'Neill..."

Jacob interrupted. "George, it's okay. Colonel O'Neill has reason to be concerned. Daniel Jackson is in a great deal of trouble."

"What have you learned, Jacob?"

The older man nodded for Martouf to take the lead. "Our sources say that he is being taken, by ship, to Torvahn. There is no gate there. The planet is in a sort of System Lords neutral zone. It's really more like a large moon, no atmosphere, totally uninhabitable except for the dome."

Sam frowned. "Jolinar's memories lead me to believe that this is not a good place."

Martouf sighed. "You are correct. I regret to inform you of this, but Daniel Jackson is to be auctioned off to the highest bidder."

"He's to be sold, like an animal?" Makepeace was horrified.

"Yes." Martouf looked grim. "And his ultimate fate will depend on which System Lord buys him. Our sources say there are three main players."

Jack stared blankly at the Tok'ra. "Well, Martouf, don't just sit there, tell us the really bad news."

The younger Tok'ra looked surprised. "I do not understand what you mean."

"Don't play games, Martouf. I'm guessing they all want him for different reasons. So what do they want?"

"I see. Seb, the son of Ra, wishes him to execute him, by slow torture. Ushas wishes him to serve her as her new First Prime, and Thanatos, wishes to keep him human, but as a, uh, ..." The Tok'ra's voice broke off.

"As a what?" The tightlipped fury in Jack's voice told the room that someone would pay dearly for Daniel Jackson's pain.

"Daniel Jackson is a handsome young man."

"Go on."

Martouf grimaced. "Thanatos usually prefers his males to be very young, actually little more than children, so that he can train them properly."

"Train them?" Sam asked, slightly confused, before her tired mind kicked in and filled in the blanks. "Oh, God."

The young Tok'ra nodded sadly. "It is my understanding that he looks forward to 'training' Daniel Jackson."

The growl of "Over my dead body" from Makepeace took everyone, including Jack, by surprise. All eyes turned to the Marine. Glaring furiously at the rest of the table. "We've got to..."

Jacob Carter smiled grimly. "What, Colonel? What would you suggest we do? Send a team to Torvahn to kick ass and break him out?"

"SG-1 did that for you."

"Granted, but Netu was a prison planet. Torvahn is not. The public auctions held there attract multiple System Lords, and their entourages, for the regular auctions. This event promises to draw many more, even if they do not choose to bid on Dr. Jackson."

Hammond interrupted quickly before Makepeace could say anything more. "What do the Tok'ra suggest?"

Martouf looked uncomfortable. "We have nothing to offer you at this time. I am sorry. Our agents are still looking for answers."

Jack O'Neill looked intently at the Tok'ra across the table. "So, for now, we do nothing."

"I'm afraid so."

Only Jack heard the now subdued Marine mutter. "You don't understand. I've got to do something. They took him on my watch."

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