ThatTabiFromSB
Professional Jissou Abuser
One moment, just one moment. I was just at home, on the recliner, laptop burning the skin off my lap, and enjoying a nice cup of tea. Posting on my favorite forum, being my usual affable and perhaps arrogant self entitled perverted maniac self. And then I was somewhere else.
Why was reality so white? White on white and on more white-
"We have to be quick, so listen to me! Listen, dammit!"
A sharp pain whipped across my cheek and I blinked in confusion. That hurt.
Which of course, another slap brought my attention to the man in robes with glasses holding the front of my shirt. Huh. It was Daniel Jackson. Maybe adding rum to the tea was a bad idea-?
"Listen you self entitled-" Heh, I was just thinking of that. "-Shut up! We only have a few minutes, so listen. Your life depends on it."
Okay, that got my attention.
"The Ancients are being their usual helpful selves, but I managed to get them to let me make one request to make things right again. Unfortunately," at this point Jackson looks especially pained upon looking at me, his expression is hard to describe, "that means you. So right now this is the best I can do with what I've got."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded, looking around wildly. "Where the hell am I?"
"We're in the space between worlds. Conceptual space, so to speak," said the fictional character, who was now frowning at me. He leveled a glare at me. "I'm not fictional."
"Says doctor Daniel Jackson," was my reply, I was less than impressed. Maybe the rum was too much. Note to self, never put more than two shots of high proof rum into black tea. It does things to me.
"This isn't a hallucination," insisted the apparition of the fictional character, ah there goes that pained expression of frustration. He throws up his hands and visibly seems to calm down, "Look. I'm putting you in the worst position possible. You're going to be Ra's best friend and I need you to save the entire galaxy while being a megalomaniac parasite pretending to be a god who just happens to be you."
...Okay, what the hell did he just say?
"I said-!" Says the fictional- "I'm not fictional-"
White enveloped me and somehow I knew time was up. This was real.
That revelation was too late.
-
Wakefulness came to me slowly, like a bad hangover.
...Oh yeah. The rum in my tea.
The first conscious thought that came to mind after that revelation was whether or not it was better to go to sleep or try to stay awake. My decision was to stay awake, on the edge of falling back into slumber. I was content to be surrounded by warmth and the smothering blanket around my body.
I would fall asleep within a few minutes anyway. My sight was poor and I was not inclined to open my eyes quite yet.
On occasion, I would hear a voice, cold and a hard, murmuring above me. I would ignore it for the few moments I was still conscious in favor of returning to my sleep.
Each of my waking moments grew longer and longer, each time I would awaken, I would hear more clearly, my eyesight sharpen ever so slightly. My senses grew and soon I began to feel most peculiar.
Then alarmed as I realized I could not move.
I tried to move my arms, to no avail. I would try to move my legs, again to no result. All I could move, was my body, but that too was odd. I would give up eventually, tiring myself with the exertions and fall asleep.
My first true waking moment, was one of shock and terror.
Suddenly something cold was wrapped around me and my eyes snapped open. I tried to shout, but only a tiny little squeal came from my mouth. Only squeaks came, for I no longer had lips. Instead my mouth was a little more than two pincer-like mandibles. I thrashed this way and that, but I had no arms or legs, for my body was that of a serpent.
The cold that permeated my body however, was a small child-like hand. It was pale and white, there were only four webbed digits wound around me as I looked at the owner of the fleshy prison gripping me.
Resembling a roswell gray, the Asgard peered down upon me in interest as I squeaked at it again. I blinked and squealed louder as I began looking around frantically, thrashing harder than ever as I sought to escape it's grasp. Terrible implications began to dawn upon me, more so when I saw familiar outlines nearby, situated upon little stone tables lining the walls. One of the tables nearest to me held a body I recognized on sight. I would have moaned in horror if I could.
My body, what was left of it, was strapped down onto the examination table. Naked and now very much removed of most of it's internal organs, it's skin was a sickly gray pallor and the many little devices both within it and upon it were beyond me.
Daniel Jackson was right. The Powers That Be were dicks.
But what wasn't beyond me was that I was realizing just what happened.
"You have adapted well to the transference," murmured the Asgard softly, humming in approval as he held me closer. I recoiled, but went still when his hands tightened around my body.
"It is a pity, you were a decent enough success. But returning you to your home is impossible now," it said with indifference. "Being an immature goa'uld will suffice to your needs. Destroying even a minor success would be troublesome. So be grateful that I've taken the time to give you a new body."
The asgard dropped me back into the water and my baser instincts took over as soon as my scales were in contact with the water once more.
I swam down to the deepest corner of the tank and curled up, trembling. Thoughts whirled around my mind. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be free of this nightmare. This terrible terrible reality. This was all fictional. This was just a dream.
It had to be.
Sleep after that realization became much harder to attain.
Barely a minute later after I fell asleep, I found myself bathed in light with the sounds of chimes ringing. Suddenly the water was warmer and there were bodies all around me. Feeling myself uncurling in uncertainty, I floated in stupefied stillness as goa'uld symbiotes swam around me.
In an attempt to process this, I did the only thing I could hope to do without suffering a nervous breakdown. I curled up at the bottom of the pool and went to sleep.
All I could hear as I fell asleep, was Daniel Jackson's voice.
"I'm sorry."
It did not reassure me at all.
-
Flashes of memory would play pretend as dreams. The rich and violent history of the goa'uld would file past my mind, the exploits and the dark secrets of the goa'uld lay before me in vague dreams and terrible hints of more to come. Knowledge born of thousands of generations of Goa'uld before me came to mind in flashes of insight, the genetic history of an entire race laid bare in all it's glory. Technology slowly refined over thousands of years of insight and philosophies, battles and thoughts of hundreds of goa'uld, their victories and their failures, all mine to read and learn from.
They were not my memories. So many memories were mine now, and they were jarring and confusing. The memories had many emotions, chief amongst them the sense of superiority. The weight of so much thought and knowledge was incredible, but my own memories were slipping away, replaced by countless other identities.
It was a struggle to maintain myself. I could do nothing, but hope I would remain myself. And nestle a budding hatred for the man who put me in this situation.
I would wake, swimming leisurely and sedately as I tried to come to terms with my situation. The other symbiotes would ignore me, which suited me just fine. It gave me time to think, to attempt to find a compromise to the terrible state I found myself in. I was no longer human. I was a snake, a parasitic creature made of nerves and sinew, my mind was perhaps my own, but my own body would now influence me with it's own genetic memories that would assault my psyche every day, every moment.
I could do little now, but curse Daniel Jackson's name again and again.
For how long I spent in this pond of water, I did not know. But plans came unbidden to my mind, thoughts of grandiose schemes, words of a demagogue and the charisma of a god made me wonder...what if I could take this chance?
I could be worshipped! I could become a power to be reckoned with! Untold numbers of warriors to serve my very will, untold numbers of men and women who would do my bidding. Powers never thought possible at my very fingertips!
Those thoughts would quickly die when I realize that I did not have fingertips. Let alone any human-like fingers and the other parts of my former self used to have.
So I brooded and planned, slept and swam. For what seemed like an eternity of mindless routine, something finally happened.
A hand reached down and grabbed me. It was rough and I struggled out of instinctive fear. My gills would flap as I breathed in the air outside of the water, my eyes would adjust to the sunlight. I slowly cease my struggles as my sight became clearer.
Below me was a great pool, the slithering and swimming goa'uld frolicking inside. Around it were great walls and a single set of steps leading into the warm waters. I was in the hands of an old priest, his forehead clean of marks of allegience. I was in a great chamber, made of stone and metal.
But I was not alone.
Humans, men and women of all ages, tanned and naked, stood fearlessly before me in lines. Jaffa, armored warriors wielding tall and hard staves stood at attention, their eyes upon me. I look further and I see a young man with two beautiful women, one smiling and one expressionless, standing at his sides, sitting on thrones. Boyish handsomeness, cold expression, and calculating eyes...the symbol of a stylized eye around his neck.
This could only be Ra. And the beautiful woman, beautiful sun-colored hair, buxom chest, and cold eyes...Marasis, his Queen.
[Father(Supreme{Emperor/Queen} System Lord)Mother]
...What was that just now?
A naked young man walked up to the Jaffa Priest holding me. He was handsome and powerful. The strongest and the best of his kind. I look at him and relaxed as he knelt before me, his face gazing lovingly towards me.
"I am your avatar," said the young man earnestly. "I am your vessel. Please, take my body as your own. An offering to the Child of the Gods. Take me, please!"
His smile was one of a fanatic and his eyes glowed with the fervor of one. He opened his mouth and leaned forward until I could see the back of his throat. Despite my reservations, I reacted.
Instincts overrode my thoughts at this point. As the hands around me loosened just slightly, I threw myself into his mouth. My jaws cut through the back of his throat easily, forcing my long thin body through the flesh, tissue, cartilage, and the fat; soon I found myself intertwined around his spinal cord, my head instinctively knowing where to bite.
I stumbled as a rush of familiar and foreign sensations rushed over me. I opened my mouth and took a deep breath. My tongue licked my chapped lips and I blinked. I realized that I now had hands. I had feet. I had hair and a face.
I had a body now. One younger and better than my previous one.
One that had been someone else's, I reminded myself with a flicker of guilt. The guilt was crushed ruthlessly. I paid it no mind as Ra [Father(Supreme{Emperor/Master}System Lord)Creator] stood and bid me to come to him.
A pair of young women in silken cloaks led me away from the pool, towards the stone path to the thrones. I stood before Ra and his queens, swaying from the sensation of the air upon my skin, the touch of hands on my flesh. My eyes refocused upon the [Father/Creator] and I felt my knees kneel automatically in submission.
"Arise my child and embrace the glory that is your birthright. Know that I, Ra, and the eternal sovereign of the Goa'uld and that you have been made to serve me," said Ra, his eyes glowing softly in the torchlight and his voice booming. "I name you Iah, God of the Moon."
I stood, eyes bright and my chest rising in pride. A man stepped forwards; he was clad in the armor of the Jaffa, but it was ornately decorated. He bore a golden symbol of Ra's eye upon his forehead.
"Behold, that I shall set you amongst the greatest of my Jaffa, so that you may benefit from their wisdom and experience," Ra intoned. "Yet your purpose is unique. While my Jaffa carry forth my will, you have but one charge entrusted to you."
"What is it, my [Father/Creator]?" I asked, softly.
"You will be chief amongst of my great Magicians," boomed the goa'uld's voice. "You will become my most trusted and loyal. I shall give you a test today, to prove your genius. Three days and three nights, you will take my First Prime's staff weapon and make it fit for a god."
Automatically, thoughts began to gush forth. Details and designs of the Ma'tok Staff Weapon unfolded in my mind, how it first conceived, how it worked. But my feeble mind stood firm and I asked myself, how could it be improved?
Vaguely, I was dimly aware of being moved. A Jaffa was leading me by the arm, gently, while I maintained my train of thought. Already, my hands were running down the length of the staff as I compiled a list of requests.
Three days and three nights with no preparation. I needed something, an improvement and perhaps something simple enough to achieve.
But it needed to impress him. Ra.
Normally, I would have found my current predictament uncharacteristic of me, but the leader of the Goa'uld Empire just told me to make this weapon fit for a god. I had little knowledge on improving on the technology...but ideas were there.
Hands, using the knowledge of countless craftsmen and smiths before me, took apart the weapon with practiced ease. The particle accelerator was laid bare and open. The rear energy ducts disassembled. The primitive firing mechanism taken off. The tiny vial of liquid naquadah resting in my palm.
So many ideas. So little time.
A sort of haze settled over me, clouding my senses and my mind as I focused on the task at hand, ignoring all else. I got to work, and I didn't know why.
-
For two days and a night, I pondered on what to do. For a day, I waited for the materials I requested to come. For a day and two nights, I tinkered and improved upon what I was given. A better trigger, a sling and grip, a more efficient accelerator and capacitor. The result was larger and it was perhaps unwieldy. I ate little, drinking only water and eating a little porridge when forced to.
I emerged from the room, which I realized was a workshop, dazed and perhaps a little confused about my sudden turn of mindset. This thought was quickly squashed when I found myself face to face with Ra once more.
It was morning, I realized. The twitter of birds and rising sun's rays was a welcome change to the monotone of my endless musing and work.
Where was I? How long has it been since I came to be here? My hands seem unfamiliar. Oh, right, I was in someone else's body. Hmm. Why was I so-?
"Have you completed the task I have given you, Iah?" Asked Ra, cutting off my new train of thought.
I nodded and tried to hold the newly improved staff weapon out to him, but it was too heavy and though my host's arms were strong, they were unused to the weight. Ra shook his head and motioned for me to look to the direction he was pointing at.
This was a courtyard, I realized, my awareness sharpening as I found myself awake. Adrenaline flooded my veins as I realized why.
Standing dejectedly were over two dozen naked servants of all ages. All were looking down at their feet, fear and worry all over their faces. These were the disobedient, the unruly, the ones that did not pass expectations. The ones that displeased Ra in some form, real or imaginary.
A dawning horror was beginning to descend upon me. Surely...god, he wasn't going to-?
"Show me what you have created," Ra said, his voice lazy and commanding.
I hesitated. I...I couldn't just kill all these people, could I? He wasn't going to-?
"Show me. Now!" Barked Ra, eyes flashing.
My hands and my arms moved, beyond my control, as I did as Ra ordered unwillingly. The bulbous head of the staff weapon opened with a loud zap and crackle of orange lightning. The servants flinched.
No. No, don't! They're just people. Just innocent-
My hand twitched. Against my will, it grew firm.
No!
The trigger depressed and the weapon in my hands launched a bolt of energy.
NO!
To my despair and regret, it flew true. A young man, in his teens, cried out as it impacted his chest. He flew back and crumpled to the ground, dead. I stared in horror as my hands and arms moved.
The trigger depressed again, and again I railed against my traitorous arms and hands. A burst of three bolts sailed into the ranks of servants. One bolt struck the wall, destabilizing and releasing a burst of destructive energy that cratered the thick structure. The other two did not miss and felled two more innocents.
I couldn't even sob, as my face refused to cry. I could only stare stonily as my thumb switched the weapon to an alternate mode. My feet and legs were adjusting and I knew why.
I rallied again and struggled against my body, watching in muted horror as over a dozen were cut down by the stream of plasma bolts, their bodies smoking and the flesh around their fatal wounds cooked to a crisp darkness.
I resigned myself to end this as quickly as possible, cutting down all but one with precise shots. They all died quickly.
The last one. A young man. A boy really. He stared at me, his eyes dead and glazed. He was resigned to his fate. He stared at me and I stared at him. The boy closed his eyes and waited.
My thumb depressed on the trigger and a soft whine came from the staff in my hands. Static gathered around the exposed barrel of the staff weapon. A moment later, the trigger was released.
The bolt that the weapon fired was bright. The bolt that struck the young man was a blow to my already bleeding heart. The explosion obscured my sight. Just as well, I looked away.
Nothing would be left after that.
I turned and found Ra standing, his face lit in excitement and joy. Despite the amoral actions I had just taken, warmth and happiness flooded me.
I was worried now, but the warmth I felt was overwhelming.
Ra was happy and now, so was I.
Why? Why was I happy? I just killed...murdered so many innocent people. On the orders of my [Father(Supreme{Emperor/Master}System Lord)Creator]'s whim.
"Well done, Iah," said Ra, smiling at me. He bade me come forward, which I did [eagerly]. I knelt and placed the modified staff weapon before him in reverence.
I don't revere him. I don't! Really, I don't!
"You have done as I have asked," said Ra, his eyes dancing in joy. He too knelt, and I felt a rush or pride. "For this, I reward you. You shall have twenty units of naquadah to work with each year and a workshop to create works as I desire. Personal slaves as you see fit. And my eternal gratitude."
He placed his hands on my cheeks, a thumb deftly wiping my lips. The Goa'uld smiled again, laughing. "You have exceeded my expectations, Iah. You shall be the herald of great things."
Through the foreign and artificial happiness, I felt something inside me wither and die.
-
I stood in my new workshop, staring stonily at Daniel Jackson from my bed of silk and cushions. The apparition did not look me in the eye.
"I hate you," I spat. Eyes flashing. "You put me here. You are responsible for this."
The ascended archaeologist nodded, eyes cast downwards. "I am. I...the Ancients...I...I'm sorry-"
"Your apologies won't bring those people back," I hissed, stepping forwards, my teeth bared. He didn't move, merely curl more into himself.
"I know..." Murmured Jackson, his voiced tight. "I know."
I refused to look at him, until he disappeared, leaving no presence. I knew, deep inside, that he was perhaps still here. But I didn't care. I drowned myself in spirits and slept, hoping I would wake up and be home.
A pipe dream if there was ever one. Stay out of my head, Jackson. Ascended or not, I will hurt you if I can.
'...'
Dammit.
-----
Author's Note: As you can see, I'm crossposting this from over SB, with minor updates and changes from the original. Please enjoy!
Why was reality so white? White on white and on more white-
"We have to be quick, so listen to me! Listen, dammit!"
A sharp pain whipped across my cheek and I blinked in confusion. That hurt.
Which of course, another slap brought my attention to the man in robes with glasses holding the front of my shirt. Huh. It was Daniel Jackson. Maybe adding rum to the tea was a bad idea-?
"Listen you self entitled-" Heh, I was just thinking of that. "-Shut up! We only have a few minutes, so listen. Your life depends on it."
Okay, that got my attention.
"The Ancients are being their usual helpful selves, but I managed to get them to let me make one request to make things right again. Unfortunately," at this point Jackson looks especially pained upon looking at me, his expression is hard to describe, "that means you. So right now this is the best I can do with what I've got."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded, looking around wildly. "Where the hell am I?"
"We're in the space between worlds. Conceptual space, so to speak," said the fictional character, who was now frowning at me. He leveled a glare at me. "I'm not fictional."
"Says doctor Daniel Jackson," was my reply, I was less than impressed. Maybe the rum was too much. Note to self, never put more than two shots of high proof rum into black tea. It does things to me.
"This isn't a hallucination," insisted the apparition of the fictional character, ah there goes that pained expression of frustration. He throws up his hands and visibly seems to calm down, "Look. I'm putting you in the worst position possible. You're going to be Ra's best friend and I need you to save the entire galaxy while being a megalomaniac parasite pretending to be a god who just happens to be you."
...Okay, what the hell did he just say?
"I said-!" Says the fictional- "I'm not fictional-"
White enveloped me and somehow I knew time was up. This was real.
That revelation was too late.
-
Wakefulness came to me slowly, like a bad hangover.
...Oh yeah. The rum in my tea.
The first conscious thought that came to mind after that revelation was whether or not it was better to go to sleep or try to stay awake. My decision was to stay awake, on the edge of falling back into slumber. I was content to be surrounded by warmth and the smothering blanket around my body.
I would fall asleep within a few minutes anyway. My sight was poor and I was not inclined to open my eyes quite yet.
On occasion, I would hear a voice, cold and a hard, murmuring above me. I would ignore it for the few moments I was still conscious in favor of returning to my sleep.
Each of my waking moments grew longer and longer, each time I would awaken, I would hear more clearly, my eyesight sharpen ever so slightly. My senses grew and soon I began to feel most peculiar.
Then alarmed as I realized I could not move.
I tried to move my arms, to no avail. I would try to move my legs, again to no result. All I could move, was my body, but that too was odd. I would give up eventually, tiring myself with the exertions and fall asleep.
My first true waking moment, was one of shock and terror.
Suddenly something cold was wrapped around me and my eyes snapped open. I tried to shout, but only a tiny little squeal came from my mouth. Only squeaks came, for I no longer had lips. Instead my mouth was a little more than two pincer-like mandibles. I thrashed this way and that, but I had no arms or legs, for my body was that of a serpent.
The cold that permeated my body however, was a small child-like hand. It was pale and white, there were only four webbed digits wound around me as I looked at the owner of the fleshy prison gripping me.
Resembling a roswell gray, the Asgard peered down upon me in interest as I squeaked at it again. I blinked and squealed louder as I began looking around frantically, thrashing harder than ever as I sought to escape it's grasp. Terrible implications began to dawn upon me, more so when I saw familiar outlines nearby, situated upon little stone tables lining the walls. One of the tables nearest to me held a body I recognized on sight. I would have moaned in horror if I could.
My body, what was left of it, was strapped down onto the examination table. Naked and now very much removed of most of it's internal organs, it's skin was a sickly gray pallor and the many little devices both within it and upon it were beyond me.
Daniel Jackson was right. The Powers That Be were dicks.
But what wasn't beyond me was that I was realizing just what happened.
"You have adapted well to the transference," murmured the Asgard softly, humming in approval as he held me closer. I recoiled, but went still when his hands tightened around my body.
"It is a pity, you were a decent enough success. But returning you to your home is impossible now," it said with indifference. "Being an immature goa'uld will suffice to your needs. Destroying even a minor success would be troublesome. So be grateful that I've taken the time to give you a new body."
The asgard dropped me back into the water and my baser instincts took over as soon as my scales were in contact with the water once more.
I swam down to the deepest corner of the tank and curled up, trembling. Thoughts whirled around my mind. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be free of this nightmare. This terrible terrible reality. This was all fictional. This was just a dream.
It had to be.
Sleep after that realization became much harder to attain.
Barely a minute later after I fell asleep, I found myself bathed in light with the sounds of chimes ringing. Suddenly the water was warmer and there were bodies all around me. Feeling myself uncurling in uncertainty, I floated in stupefied stillness as goa'uld symbiotes swam around me.
In an attempt to process this, I did the only thing I could hope to do without suffering a nervous breakdown. I curled up at the bottom of the pool and went to sleep.
All I could hear as I fell asleep, was Daniel Jackson's voice.
"I'm sorry."
It did not reassure me at all.
-
Flashes of memory would play pretend as dreams. The rich and violent history of the goa'uld would file past my mind, the exploits and the dark secrets of the goa'uld lay before me in vague dreams and terrible hints of more to come. Knowledge born of thousands of generations of Goa'uld before me came to mind in flashes of insight, the genetic history of an entire race laid bare in all it's glory. Technology slowly refined over thousands of years of insight and philosophies, battles and thoughts of hundreds of goa'uld, their victories and their failures, all mine to read and learn from.
They were not my memories. So many memories were mine now, and they were jarring and confusing. The memories had many emotions, chief amongst them the sense of superiority. The weight of so much thought and knowledge was incredible, but my own memories were slipping away, replaced by countless other identities.
It was a struggle to maintain myself. I could do nothing, but hope I would remain myself. And nestle a budding hatred for the man who put me in this situation.
I would wake, swimming leisurely and sedately as I tried to come to terms with my situation. The other symbiotes would ignore me, which suited me just fine. It gave me time to think, to attempt to find a compromise to the terrible state I found myself in. I was no longer human. I was a snake, a parasitic creature made of nerves and sinew, my mind was perhaps my own, but my own body would now influence me with it's own genetic memories that would assault my psyche every day, every moment.
I could do little now, but curse Daniel Jackson's name again and again.
For how long I spent in this pond of water, I did not know. But plans came unbidden to my mind, thoughts of grandiose schemes, words of a demagogue and the charisma of a god made me wonder...what if I could take this chance?
I could be worshipped! I could become a power to be reckoned with! Untold numbers of warriors to serve my very will, untold numbers of men and women who would do my bidding. Powers never thought possible at my very fingertips!
Those thoughts would quickly die when I realize that I did not have fingertips. Let alone any human-like fingers and the other parts of my former self used to have.
So I brooded and planned, slept and swam. For what seemed like an eternity of mindless routine, something finally happened.
A hand reached down and grabbed me. It was rough and I struggled out of instinctive fear. My gills would flap as I breathed in the air outside of the water, my eyes would adjust to the sunlight. I slowly cease my struggles as my sight became clearer.
Below me was a great pool, the slithering and swimming goa'uld frolicking inside. Around it were great walls and a single set of steps leading into the warm waters. I was in the hands of an old priest, his forehead clean of marks of allegience. I was in a great chamber, made of stone and metal.
But I was not alone.
Humans, men and women of all ages, tanned and naked, stood fearlessly before me in lines. Jaffa, armored warriors wielding tall and hard staves stood at attention, their eyes upon me. I look further and I see a young man with two beautiful women, one smiling and one expressionless, standing at his sides, sitting on thrones. Boyish handsomeness, cold expression, and calculating eyes...the symbol of a stylized eye around his neck.
This could only be Ra. And the beautiful woman, beautiful sun-colored hair, buxom chest, and cold eyes...Marasis, his Queen.
[Father(Supreme{Emperor/Queen} System Lord)Mother]
...What was that just now?
A naked young man walked up to the Jaffa Priest holding me. He was handsome and powerful. The strongest and the best of his kind. I look at him and relaxed as he knelt before me, his face gazing lovingly towards me.
"I am your avatar," said the young man earnestly. "I am your vessel. Please, take my body as your own. An offering to the Child of the Gods. Take me, please!"
His smile was one of a fanatic and his eyes glowed with the fervor of one. He opened his mouth and leaned forward until I could see the back of his throat. Despite my reservations, I reacted.
Instincts overrode my thoughts at this point. As the hands around me loosened just slightly, I threw myself into his mouth. My jaws cut through the back of his throat easily, forcing my long thin body through the flesh, tissue, cartilage, and the fat; soon I found myself intertwined around his spinal cord, my head instinctively knowing where to bite.
I stumbled as a rush of familiar and foreign sensations rushed over me. I opened my mouth and took a deep breath. My tongue licked my chapped lips and I blinked. I realized that I now had hands. I had feet. I had hair and a face.
I had a body now. One younger and better than my previous one.
One that had been someone else's, I reminded myself with a flicker of guilt. The guilt was crushed ruthlessly. I paid it no mind as Ra [Father(Supreme{Emperor/Master}System Lord)Creator] stood and bid me to come to him.
A pair of young women in silken cloaks led me away from the pool, towards the stone path to the thrones. I stood before Ra and his queens, swaying from the sensation of the air upon my skin, the touch of hands on my flesh. My eyes refocused upon the [Father/Creator] and I felt my knees kneel automatically in submission.
"Arise my child and embrace the glory that is your birthright. Know that I, Ra, and the eternal sovereign of the Goa'uld and that you have been made to serve me," said Ra, his eyes glowing softly in the torchlight and his voice booming. "I name you Iah, God of the Moon."
I stood, eyes bright and my chest rising in pride. A man stepped forwards; he was clad in the armor of the Jaffa, but it was ornately decorated. He bore a golden symbol of Ra's eye upon his forehead.
"Behold, that I shall set you amongst the greatest of my Jaffa, so that you may benefit from their wisdom and experience," Ra intoned. "Yet your purpose is unique. While my Jaffa carry forth my will, you have but one charge entrusted to you."
"What is it, my [Father/Creator]?" I asked, softly.
"You will be chief amongst of my great Magicians," boomed the goa'uld's voice. "You will become my most trusted and loyal. I shall give you a test today, to prove your genius. Three days and three nights, you will take my First Prime's staff weapon and make it fit for a god."
Automatically, thoughts began to gush forth. Details and designs of the Ma'tok Staff Weapon unfolded in my mind, how it first conceived, how it worked. But my feeble mind stood firm and I asked myself, how could it be improved?
Vaguely, I was dimly aware of being moved. A Jaffa was leading me by the arm, gently, while I maintained my train of thought. Already, my hands were running down the length of the staff as I compiled a list of requests.
Three days and three nights with no preparation. I needed something, an improvement and perhaps something simple enough to achieve.
But it needed to impress him. Ra.
Normally, I would have found my current predictament uncharacteristic of me, but the leader of the Goa'uld Empire just told me to make this weapon fit for a god. I had little knowledge on improving on the technology...but ideas were there.
Hands, using the knowledge of countless craftsmen and smiths before me, took apart the weapon with practiced ease. The particle accelerator was laid bare and open. The rear energy ducts disassembled. The primitive firing mechanism taken off. The tiny vial of liquid naquadah resting in my palm.
So many ideas. So little time.
A sort of haze settled over me, clouding my senses and my mind as I focused on the task at hand, ignoring all else. I got to work, and I didn't know why.
-
For two days and a night, I pondered on what to do. For a day, I waited for the materials I requested to come. For a day and two nights, I tinkered and improved upon what I was given. A better trigger, a sling and grip, a more efficient accelerator and capacitor. The result was larger and it was perhaps unwieldy. I ate little, drinking only water and eating a little porridge when forced to.
I emerged from the room, which I realized was a workshop, dazed and perhaps a little confused about my sudden turn of mindset. This thought was quickly squashed when I found myself face to face with Ra once more.
It was morning, I realized. The twitter of birds and rising sun's rays was a welcome change to the monotone of my endless musing and work.
Where was I? How long has it been since I came to be here? My hands seem unfamiliar. Oh, right, I was in someone else's body. Hmm. Why was I so-?
"Have you completed the task I have given you, Iah?" Asked Ra, cutting off my new train of thought.
I nodded and tried to hold the newly improved staff weapon out to him, but it was too heavy and though my host's arms were strong, they were unused to the weight. Ra shook his head and motioned for me to look to the direction he was pointing at.
This was a courtyard, I realized, my awareness sharpening as I found myself awake. Adrenaline flooded my veins as I realized why.
Standing dejectedly were over two dozen naked servants of all ages. All were looking down at their feet, fear and worry all over their faces. These were the disobedient, the unruly, the ones that did not pass expectations. The ones that displeased Ra in some form, real or imaginary.
A dawning horror was beginning to descend upon me. Surely...god, he wasn't going to-?
"Show me what you have created," Ra said, his voice lazy and commanding.
I hesitated. I...I couldn't just kill all these people, could I? He wasn't going to-?
"Show me. Now!" Barked Ra, eyes flashing.
My hands and my arms moved, beyond my control, as I did as Ra ordered unwillingly. The bulbous head of the staff weapon opened with a loud zap and crackle of orange lightning. The servants flinched.
No. No, don't! They're just people. Just innocent-
My hand twitched. Against my will, it grew firm.
No!
The trigger depressed and the weapon in my hands launched a bolt of energy.
NO!
To my despair and regret, it flew true. A young man, in his teens, cried out as it impacted his chest. He flew back and crumpled to the ground, dead. I stared in horror as my hands and arms moved.
The trigger depressed again, and again I railed against my traitorous arms and hands. A burst of three bolts sailed into the ranks of servants. One bolt struck the wall, destabilizing and releasing a burst of destructive energy that cratered the thick structure. The other two did not miss and felled two more innocents.
I couldn't even sob, as my face refused to cry. I could only stare stonily as my thumb switched the weapon to an alternate mode. My feet and legs were adjusting and I knew why.
I rallied again and struggled against my body, watching in muted horror as over a dozen were cut down by the stream of plasma bolts, their bodies smoking and the flesh around their fatal wounds cooked to a crisp darkness.
I resigned myself to end this as quickly as possible, cutting down all but one with precise shots. They all died quickly.
The last one. A young man. A boy really. He stared at me, his eyes dead and glazed. He was resigned to his fate. He stared at me and I stared at him. The boy closed his eyes and waited.
My thumb depressed on the trigger and a soft whine came from the staff in my hands. Static gathered around the exposed barrel of the staff weapon. A moment later, the trigger was released.
The bolt that the weapon fired was bright. The bolt that struck the young man was a blow to my already bleeding heart. The explosion obscured my sight. Just as well, I looked away.
Nothing would be left after that.
I turned and found Ra standing, his face lit in excitement and joy. Despite the amoral actions I had just taken, warmth and happiness flooded me.
I was worried now, but the warmth I felt was overwhelming.
Ra was happy and now, so was I.
Why? Why was I happy? I just killed...murdered so many innocent people. On the orders of my [Father(Supreme{Emperor/Master}System Lord)Creator]'s whim.
"Well done, Iah," said Ra, smiling at me. He bade me come forward, which I did [eagerly]. I knelt and placed the modified staff weapon before him in reverence.
I don't revere him. I don't! Really, I don't!
"You have done as I have asked," said Ra, his eyes dancing in joy. He too knelt, and I felt a rush or pride. "For this, I reward you. You shall have twenty units of naquadah to work with each year and a workshop to create works as I desire. Personal slaves as you see fit. And my eternal gratitude."
He placed his hands on my cheeks, a thumb deftly wiping my lips. The Goa'uld smiled again, laughing. "You have exceeded my expectations, Iah. You shall be the herald of great things."
Through the foreign and artificial happiness, I felt something inside me wither and die.
-
I stood in my new workshop, staring stonily at Daniel Jackson from my bed of silk and cushions. The apparition did not look me in the eye.
"I hate you," I spat. Eyes flashing. "You put me here. You are responsible for this."
The ascended archaeologist nodded, eyes cast downwards. "I am. I...the Ancients...I...I'm sorry-"
"Your apologies won't bring those people back," I hissed, stepping forwards, my teeth bared. He didn't move, merely curl more into himself.
"I know..." Murmured Jackson, his voiced tight. "I know."
I refused to look at him, until he disappeared, leaving no presence. I knew, deep inside, that he was perhaps still here. But I didn't care. I drowned myself in spirits and slept, hoping I would wake up and be home.
A pipe dream if there was ever one. Stay out of my head, Jackson. Ascended or not, I will hurt you if I can.
'...'
Dammit.
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Author's Note: As you can see, I'm crossposting this from over SB, with minor updates and changes from the original. Please enjoy!