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Playing Ba'al

As soon as he and SG-7 were aboard the Phoenix, Colonel Johnson turned to face them. "Okay, tell me what in the hell is going on, and why we’re going to…wherever the hell that woman said we need to go."

Major Andrews pulled himself up to his full height of five feet, eleven inches. He was still about two inches shorter than the ship’s commander. "We’re going on a mission to deal with Goa’uld, which is what we do at the SGC, and ‘that woman’ is Casey Jackson, and she just happens to be the reason every damned one of us is still alive!"

"Miz J has helped save the planet a time or two as well," Sergeant Sutter added, his voice little more than a growl.

Johnson held up a hand, realizing he’d just pissed off the five men who were going on what sounded like a dangerous mission. It was his job, he knew, to get them there and home again. That was pretty much all he knew at the moment. "Forgive me, Major. I’m still a bit dazed about everything. I was just assigned to this ship three days ago, and then last night we were told that ready or not, we were heading out."

"Uh…the ship is ready, isn’t it…uh, sir?" Lieutenant Waters asked nervously.

With a smile, Johnson nodded. "According to all the technicians, the ship has technically been ready for almost two weeks. However, there had been rumors about upgrades. From some aliens we know, or something like that. My engineer assures me that everything we need is online and ready to go, and that any upgrades can be added without any problems."

"Probably the Tegerians," Major Andrews grinned. "They seem to like playing ‘big brother’ and giving ‘little brother’ fun new toys."

"Colonel Johnson, report to the bridge stat," a voice came over the intercom system.

"Let’s go," Andrews said. "We can talk on the way."

Nodding, Johnson followed the team into the corridor. From what he had read in his briefing package, each of the four honest-to-goodness space ships now owned and operated by the United States Air Force were laid out the same. The only differences were that the Odyssey and the Phoenix had newly designed engines, and additional weapons packages. Those same weapons packages would be added to the Prometheus and the Daedalus as soon as possible. He had a feeling that at some point in time he was going to be grateful for that little bonus.

As succinctly as possible, Major Andrews explained the reason for the mission, why it was so important that they get it done now, and that chances were, they would run into trouble. Any time a team was ringing or beaming or even crawling onto a Goa’uld ship the risks were high. It was always possible that the rebel Jaffa – whom they were going to depend on to help them escape from the holding cells – had been discovered to be rebels, and thus killed. Or had simply been assigned to tasks that would prevent them from helping. It didn’t mean the team couldn’t make their escape. It would just take longer, and be much more difficult.

By the time the men had arrived on the bridge, a message had already come over from the Odyssey. It seemed that the Odyssey would arrive in position first. As soon as the Phoenix was in position, they were to send a scrambled message…and a message not longer than three seconds. A simple ‘here’ in Morse code, General O’Neill had insisted, was all that was needed.

"Navigation, do you have our target destination?" Johnson asked, settling into the captain’s chair.

"Yes, sir. Coordinates locked, course laid in," Lieutenant Hope Williamson replied.

Johnson gave a small shake of his head. He was certain that those particular phrases were only used in science-fiction books and movies. He glanced around. He was sitting on a real spaceship, getting ready to go on a mission approved by the President of the United States. Life could not get any more surreal, he thought, feeling more than a bit overwhelmed.

Major Andrews bit back the comment that had nearly slipped out…about the fact that both the navigator and the helmsman looked like they should be planning for a homecoming dance, not operating a multi-billion dollar space ship. He glanced at Lieutenant Waters. Young they might be, but he’d bet those kids were trained to do things he couldn’t even comprehend.

"SGC, this is Johnson, on the Phoenix. Requesting permission to depart," Johnson said, his voice masking the worry that was joining the jumble of emotions roiling in him at that moment.

"Phoenix, this is Hammond. Request granted. Good luck, and Godspeed," the general’s voice crackled in the speakers.

"Navigation, helm, get us where we need to be as soon as possible, if you please." Johnson gave the order as if he’d given it dozens of times before. He realized that he’d certainly be giving such an order again…and didn’t know whether to be excited at the prospect, or scared to death.

On the Odyssey, Colonel Simpson had been given the highlights of the mission. She was also on the bridge of ‘her’ new ship. A brief discussion with her navigation and helm officers confirmed the Odyssey was ready to go.

"SGC, this is Odyssey. Requesting permission to depart," she said, having heard Johnson’s communication with the SGC.

"Permission granted, Odyssey. Good luck, and Godspeed," Hammond replied.

"Thank you, sir," Simpson said. "Let’s go. Best time," she added.

Jack stood at the back of the bridge, arms around his chest, his team in a tight semi-circle around him. "Radar, are we really going to be able to do this?" he asked quietly.

"From everything I’ve seen…yes. I just wish I could figure out where the hiking comes in," she replied.

"Hiking I can handle," Jack grinned. "We’ll figure it out."

She gave a small nod. "At least it’s not someplace cold," she admitted.

In a flash Daniel recalled the escape they had barely made from Ba’al’s ship, winding up on a planet in what they had assumed was the middle of winter. A planet where Nirrti had left a group of…creatures…who had once been human beings. It was just another of the close calls SG-1 had survived. Hopefully, this mission wouldn’t be added to that number. Who am I kidding? Those seem to be the only kind of missions we have, he grumped to himself.

The trip to the cloned Ba’al’s ship was going to take at least three hours. They’d been on the go all day, with meetings and the day to day tasks that came with working at the SGC. No doubt they’d be on the ha’tak for at least an hour or so. And escaping was always an exercise in physical stress with lots of panic tossed in.

Jack looked at his team. "There are bunks in one of the ward rooms available. We should grab a couple of hours of sleep. We’ll probably need it."

Daniel was more than a little disappointed that he and Casey wouldn’t have their own quarters, with a full bed they could snuggle together on.

"Next trip, the accommodations will improve," Jack said quietly, seeing the look that had flashed in the blue eyes of his best friend. "Paint’s not dry yet."

"I can live with that," Daniel said amiably.

"I get the top bunk," Casey said, a wide grin on her face.

With a grin of his own, Jack led the way to the corridor. "Wake us up when we get there," he called over his shoulder to Colonel Simpson.

"Will do, sir," the colonel smiled. She settled back in her chair. And wondered if feeling as giddy as a school girl about the view out windows in front of her was common for those arriving in space for the first time.

The ward room was long and narrow. Eight sets of bunk beds lined one wall. Sixteen lockers lined the opposite wall. The path between the two was just wide enough to pass through without having to turn sideways.

"Not into luxury, eh?" Casey said, looking around curiously.

"This room will be used mostly for those transferring in, until permanent quarters can be assigned. It will also house any Marine teams we need to take along in an emergency," Jack explained.

Sam climbed onto the top bunk of the first set of beds. "It’s better than a sleeping bag on the floor of the docking bay," she offered.

"That’s true," Casey agreed. "I wasn’t complaining, just observing."

Sam smiled. "I know. But if anyone arrives while we’re here, they get the sleeping bags on the floor of the docking bay."

With a giggle, Casey climbed onto the top bunk next to her best friend’s. "Not sure where that ‘anyone’ would come from…but given our history, anything could happen!"

Laughter filled the room. As long as they could laugh, all was well. Jack settled on the bunk beneath his wife, Daniel on the bunk under Casey. Teal’c stretched his long frame on the bottom bunk next to Daniel’s. Within fifteen minutes, SG-1 was sound asleep.

The Odyssey slipped into place, just to the right of the ha’tak. For those who had never seen a Goa’uld ship, it was an impressive sight. For SG-1, it started the adrenaline flowing and hearts pounding. Once again they were going to march right into the lion’s den…into his very jaws…and then, according to plan, turn around and walk away.

Timing on this mission was everything. The messages had to be delivered at the same time, or as close to the same time as possible. They needed the two Ba’als pissed off and searching for each other. Those searches wouldn’t go unnoticed by the other Goa’uld in the surrounding solar systems. And, if all went well, the Goa’uld in service to Ba’al…either one…would race to try to make the best deal with the information they had, offering what they knew to the System Lord or Lords willing to pay the most. Yep, they were about to start a civil war in the Goa’uld Empire that they hoped would bring an end to at least a few of the most annoying of the bunch. They were also holding on to the hope that such a civil war would knock Ba’al down to size…disable him enough for them to start attacking him in earnest.

Jack was leaning against the console behind which the transportation tech stood…who wasn’t certain if he should continue with the routine maintenance scan, or stand at attention. Which amused the general greatly.

Sam, true to her nickname, was pacing the transporter room from one side to the other. Teal’c stood near the door, arms behind his back, looking for all the world as if he were as comfortable as if he was in an easy chair. Daniel and Casey were standing against the wall, side by side, their hands entwined.

Waiting, Casey knew from experience, was one of the most difficult aspects of their job. Especially when there was the chance that while they were waiting, something could change and totally screw up their plans. She shook her head mentally. She’d seen absolutely nothing for SG-7. No problems…to no trouble. In fact, the feeling that was most prevalent when she had searched for the team was ‘unhindered’. While she had no idea if she was to take the feeling literally, she was hoping that it meant the team would have no problems on their part of the mission.

Daniel closed his eyes, let his head rest against the wall behind him. Given half the chance, he’d have Casey back home in less time than it took to drive to work in the morning. He hated the idea of being on a ship with Ba’al. Bad things happened when he and his Wife…and the rest of the team, for that matter…were on the same ship as Ba’al. This is the clone, he told himself. Not as big a threat as the real, very pissed off Ba’al.

"General O’Neill, we just received a message from the Phoenix," Colonel Simpson’s voice echoed in the room.

"And that message was?" Jack asked, hand on the intercom.

"One word, sir. ‘Here’."

"That’s what we’ve been waiting for. Send a reply, Colonel. One word. ‘Go’."

"Yes, sir." Not more than five seconds ticked by. "Message sent. Communication officer estimates the message will be received in seven minutes."

Jack looked at his watch. "Get ready, campers," he said softly. He watched as his ‘kids’ moved casually into the center of the ring transport. They formed a circle as soon as he joined them, adjusted the packs on their backs. "Any last minute insights, Radar?"

"Nope, just the same images," Casey reported.

"Okay. Let’s keep it simple, get in, get out as quickly as we can, and go home. Bra’tac says there are rebels on the ship who will see that we get out of the holding cells," he said. "We do not do anything to get separated or killed, right?"

"Right, sir."

"Right."

"Right, boss."

"Indeed."

He gave a nod of approval. Checked his watch. Five minutes. Then – suddenly it seemed – it was time to go. For some reason, that five minutes had gone much faster than he’d thought it would. And for just a few seconds, he was so tempted to scrap the entire thing that he took a half step toward the door. It was the expressions on the faces of his team that had him standing taller. We’re in this together, those faces told him. We’ll get this done.

Jack checked his watch again. The transport tech was waiting for his order. "Okay, do your gizmo thing with that crystal."

Fifteen seconds later, SG-1 was on the ha’tak of the Goa’uld they hoped was the clone of Ba’al.

As soon as they had arrived on the ship – in what had been an empty corridor when Sam had scanned it – alarms were already blaring. And the clanking sound of Jaffa armor echoed in the corridor in front of them. They raced in the opposite direction, to another cross corridor.

Casey peeked around the corner. Damn it! More Jaffa!

Noting the frown on his Wife’s face, Daniel peeked around the corner as well. Should have known this mission would go tits up before we’d been on the ship five seconds!

Jack tapped each of his ‘kids’. Nodded toward the room behind him. He’d already checked, and it was empty. They needed to get out of the corridors ASAP, or they’d wind up being more than just ‘messengers’.

When the door was carefully locked behind them, Jack led the team to a shadowed corner of the room. "What the hell went wrong?"

Sam shook her head. "I don’t know. Ba’al must have been monitoring for power surges. We had the correct information about his shields-" She paused and rolled her eyes. Obviously the data they had received from Thor had been correct. Or they wouldn’t be standing there having a conversation. "Just the shields going down shouldn’t have the Jaffa reacting like this…especially if, or rather when, the shields were back up just a few seconds later. Somehow Ba’al must have picked up on the power fluctuations as we were beaming in. That’s the only explanation."

"That snake is the poster boy for paranoia," Jack muttered. "Now what?"

"I say we do what we came here to do," Casey said softly. "But, we do it differently." She tugged her pack off, and handed it to Teal’c. When she pulled at Daniel’s, he shrugged it off, and she pushed it toward Jack.

"Okay, how?" Jack asked hesitantly. Not certain he was ready to hear whatever Casey was going to say. Because with her, there was no telling what she would say…or in this instance…just what idea the slender seer had come up with.

Casey held up her index finger, then turned her attention to Sam. "Was there any way for Ba’al or his Jaffa to know how many people beamed in?"

"Not that I know of," Sam replied.

The grin that lit Casey’s face had her teammates grinning in return. "How about Daniel and I make our way very carefully to the pel’tak? I know of a corner in the corridor where we can hide until we know for sure the snake is there. It’s fairly dark, and the Jaffa never pay attention to it. Then we just casually stroll in, deliver our message-"

"And wind up prisoners before you’re finished," Jack interrupted.

"Which we expected in the first place. And…that’s where you come in, boss. You, Sam, and the Big Guy find some comfy place to hide until Daniel is tossed into the holding cell. Break him out, then come get me."

Daniel frowned. "I don’t think it will be that easy. Ba’al isn’t going to leave you alone in his chambers."

"No, he probably won’t," Casey admitted. "But I’ve been working on the seventh level of mastaba, and I haven’t had a good workout yet this week."

He could feel the twitch in his cheek as he tried not to chuckle. "And when he uses the ribbon device on you?"

"Won’t give him the chance," Casey said confidently.

Jack studied the young seer. It wasn’t any riskier than the original plan, and Radar’s idea might be the only way to salvage the mission.

Daniel noticed the expression on his best friend and CO’s face. "Don’t tell me you think this could work!"

"It could," Jack said slowly. "We’d have you out of the cell before the Jaffa have even cleared the corridor. If we find a few zats, we can just take them out. I don’t think Ba’al will have Casey in his chambers for more than a few minutes before we can get there."

"I’ll still be telling him what an asshole he is…just don’t make me leave before I get to smack him around a bit." Casey’s grin went wider.

In spite of the terror welling up in his heart, Daniel chuckled.

"Daniel, it’s always been this…game…between us," Casey said softly. "He tells me what a great god he is, and how honored I should be that he’s picked me to be his Consort, and I tell him exactly what to do with the position. There’s always at least fifteen minutes or so of sheer bullshit before we even get started with the really serious ‘I’m your god, accept it’ and ‘go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut’."

Again, Daniel chuckled. He looped his arm around her neck and pulled her close. Kissed the side of her head. "I hate this idea."

"I know."

"If anything else goes tits up, I’m gonna be pissed."

"I know."

With a sigh, Daniel turned to his CO. "How do you want to move around?"

"Corridors are out, they’re crawling with Jaffa, and we don’t dare put any of the rebels at risk. Put your radio on mute, use the earpiece. You should be able to hear me. I’ll let you know when we’re in position. Hit the send button once, then go in and do your thing," Jack said.

"It would be wise to arm ourselves with zat’nik’tels before we begin," Teal’c suggested. "I believe there is a weapons locker in this corridor."

"Okay. Let’s do this without all of us getting caught, shall we?" Jack said. He noted the four nods of understanding. "Let’s go. Take the lead, Big Guy."

Four of the teammates remained hidden in the shadows of the dimly lit room. Teal’c carefully unlocked the door, attempting to make as little noise as possible. Moving to one side, he touched the control that would open the door.

Just before Daniel could move forward, following Sam, Casey put a hand on his arm. "You did bring it, right?"

His heart fell to this stomach. "It’s in my thigh pocket."

She nodded.

"Please tell me this is going to work," Daniel begged quietly.

"This part is. We’ll even get off the ship okay. But then…" she shrugged. "I just see us doing some hiking."

As long as they were together, he could face anything. He took the time to kiss her. "Be careful."

"Always."

Their teammates had been waiting silently just inside the door. Jack nodded, and they moved into a surprisingly empty corridor. They weren’t going to question their good luck. Not more than five minutes later Jack, Sam, and Teal’c, armed with zats, and were climbing into the ventilation shafts.

Jack nodded at Daniel. "See you in about twenty minutes. Or less."

"Right." Daniel gave a nod in return. He followed Casey further down the corridor, to another shaft. One that would take them to the upper levels, and the pel’tak. He hated the idea of being anywhere near Ba’al. Hated even more the idea of his Wife being anywhere near Ba’al…clone or not. Knowing what was about to happen had his stomach in knots. If this plan should fail, they were all in serious trouble…Casey most of all.

Watching carefully, making certain there were no Jaffa near to see them crawling out of the shaft not more than ten feet from the entrance to the pel’tak, Casey slipped to the floor. Daniel was right behind her. She smiled up at him, wrapped her fingers around his hand and squeezed gently.

He tugged slightly, bringing her closer. Felt the warmth of her body against his. I hate this plan, he groused silently. Determined in that moment if one thing…just one thing…went wrong, he’d call on the heat that flowed through his body, and leave the ship they stood on in shambles, and Ba’al dead. Screw the plans they had made while sitting safely around the conference table in the briefing room.

Casey adjusted the earpiece of her radio, smiled when she realized Daniel was doing the same thing. They stood close to one another in the tiny alcove that held a secret passage to Ba’al’s personal escape pod. She’d discovered the alcove as she’d walked the ship when she’d been held captive. With O’nan’s help, she’d even sneaked in and taken a look at the pod...it was no different than the others, as far as she could tell. If need be, she and her Husband could slip into that forbidden passageway and hide.

"We’re in position," Jack’s voice said, after what had seemed to be an eternity, but was probably no more than fifteen minutes. It was obvious he was attempting to be as quiet as possible. "I don’t believe I’m saying this…but…go bait a snake, Radar."

With a deep breath, Casey carefully pressed the button on her radio. She looked into worried blue eyes. "Ready to have some fun?" she whispered.

"Not really," Daniel whispered in reply.

She gave a shake of her head, glanced around, then eased her slender body toward the open door that led to the main control center of the Goa’uld ship. Yep, the snake was in residence, because the Jaffa were standing at attention. If he hadn’t been there, their posture would have been more relaxed. Again, something she’d learned during her captivity.

Standing straight, tossing her braid over her shoulder, Casey marched into the room, Daniel right behind her. The Jaffa on duty were too stunned at their sudden appearance to do more than stare for several long seconds. Then staff weapons began to whine as they were charged and aimed at the intruders.

"Hey, Ba’al. How’s it hangin’?" Casey asked casually in Goa’uld. Tossed a wink at her Husband when he snorted loudly. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her pants…to prevent the Goa’uld from seeing how much they were shaking.

Ba’al’s eyes went wide. Then narrowed in suspicion. "So it was you who beamed onto my ship!"

"Nope. They gave it to us before the treaty was in effect," Daniel said cavalierly. "And, just so you know, we have proof of that."

"Why are you here?" Ba’al demanded. His eyes remained on Casey. He was doing his best to ignore the fact that Jackson was with her.

"Well, we have a little intel for you," Casey said, her voice dropping conspiratorially.

Ba’al settled himself more comfortably in his chair, determined to appear as disinterested as possible. Even though he was more than a little worried about just what the seer would reveal to him. He knew that she would never bother to warn him of danger; if she knew something that would drive her to seek him out, to risk boarding his ship even knowing she’d become his captive…whatever she wished to tell him most certainly would only benefit the Tau’ri. He fought back a moment of panic. What are those troublesome humans up to now? "I see. And just what is this ‘intel’ you believe I should be interested in?"

"Remember the clone Ba’al made of me?" She asked casually.

"That I created in your image," the Goa’uld protested. He had mourned the loss of the clone as much as he'd mourned her loss. He’d only just learned that Casey was still alive from one of his spies…

"Nope. You didn’t do anything. Because, Balls, you’re a clone, too. You are, in fact, a really, really bad copy of a really, really lousy excuse for a Goa’uld." She grinned, certain that Jack would be thrilled that she’d remembered the comment made during their planning session for this mission. Daniel snickered beside her.

Ba’al began to laugh. "Whoever gave you this ‘intel’ is sadly mistaken."

Casey shook her head. "How much do you remember of the day we destroyed your ship? Do you remember how my clone was killed? Do you remember what she said?"

For one moment Ba’al sat silently. The frown on his face became severe. He’d assumed that the clone had been taken by the Tau’ri when they’d invaded his ship. He’d not been able to find the clone in his haste to get to his escape pod. She’d not been in his chambers where he was certain she would be waiting for him. His sense of self preservation, however, had made his escape more important than finding a mere clone…no matter how deep his feelings for her were.

"She was running…from you…well, no, she was running from the real Ba’al…when she was shot, both with a staff weapon, and with a zat," Casey said, repeating what Gemeti had told SG-1 after they had all escaped Ba’al’s ship that very long, heartbreaking, crazy day. Her voice was calm. Firm.

"Zat’nik’tel. Zat for short. So much easier to say," Casey explained, shrugging slightly. "She trusted the Jaffa who were loyal to her to make certain you…well, the real Ba’al…couldn’t put her in a sarcophagus, if you’d…er…the real Ba’al…had that idea in mind. Although I sort of doubt that, because you…er…he…had ordered her killed. She told you she hated you…er…him…as much as I do." Casey cocked her head sideways. "Ya know, I think that in that moment, it was just possible. That she hated him as much as I do."

"What you need to determine," Daniel said, moving to stand behind his Wife, "is how much time you actually have left. Apparently Ba’al wasn’t as good at cloning as he thought…you clones have a shelf life. We’re pretty sure he lifted the information about cloning from Nirrti. Who lifted it from Loki…an Asgard who isn’t very good at what he does. His clones are always defective."

"Lies!" Ba’al shouted. His heart was pounding in his chest. The odd thought that his host should be taunting him poked at the back of his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time the host – who had become quite annoying lately – had actually provoked him. In fact…he couldn’t remember feeling the host even moving in some time. He pushed the irrelevant…yet troubling…thoughts from his mind.

"Sure, you can tell yourself…and these Jaffa…that I’m lying. But deep down, in your heart of hearts, you know I’m right," Casey insisted. Her green eyes held his in a firm gaze. She noted with not a little satisfaction that he when he broke the gaze and looked at the Jaffa who was now standing beside her, she could see his uneasiness. He didn’t want to believe her. But the seeds of doubt had been planted, and now he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what she had said. In spite of his insistence that he didn’t believe her, he would be hell bent to prove her wrong. Mission accomplished, she thought delightedly.

Daniel wrapped his arms around Casey’s waist. "She’s right, and you know it."

"Take him to the interrogation room," Ba’al ordered gruffly. "And her-" In spite of his misgivings, Ba’al’s brown eyes softened as he looked at the woman who would be his Consort. The one thing he was certain of…perhaps, his mind prodded him, the only thing he was certain of…was his love for the beautiful Tau’ri. "I will take her to my chambers."

Casey gave Daniel an ‘I-told-you-so-look’ before smirking at Ba’al. "So, do you want to make any bets on how long you hold us this time?"

"Within the hour, Jackson…your husband…" he snarled, "will be dead. And you, Beloved, will become my Consort in a ceremony as old as time."

"Don’t call me that," Casey said, automatically. "In an hour, we’ll be gone." She looked at the Jaffa who stood beside Ba’al. He had been one of the two Jaffa tasked to follow her as she paced the ship during the time Ba’al had held her prisoner. Her heart lurched at the thought of O’nan, the Jaffa who had given his life to help her and Daniel escape. "I’ll bet you a months’ rations right here and now."

The Jaffa looked nervously from the slender blonde to his god, and back again. He knew the reputation of those known as SG-1. Chances were high that somehow these two would once again escape captivity. Witch, he thought silently. She had to be a witch to have muddled O’nan’s mind to the point he’d betrayed his god. He shuddered when her green eyes focused on him. She had to be a witch to be able to appear and disappear and reappear on Lord Ba’al’s ship as she did. Witch.

Ba’al signaled, and two Jaffa grabbed Daniel and jerked him away from Casey. His arms were pulled painfully behind him.

Casey whirled when she felt his body move suddenly away from hers. "See you in a bit," she said, offering a smile that only trembled a little bit.

Daniel glanced at Ba’al, then winked at her. "See you in a bit."

Ba’al was on his feet. "Do not believe that you will escape me."

"I can believe whatever I want to believe, Snakeface," Casey insisted. "Especially when I have experience to back me up."

"Today is different," Ba’al smirked, striding confidently toward her.

"Really? How? Seems just like a regular work day to me." Casey taunted.

In that moment she realized that he had no memory of that horrible day…only of escaping a ship that was exploding around him. The worrisome conversation she remembered having had been with the other Ba’al…the real Ba’al. This Ba’al apparently didn’t remember his defeat when he…or rather, the real Ba’al…had tried to take over Earth. This Ba’al was still arrogant and egotistical…but he hadn’t reached the point of fury that the real Ba’al seemed to have done. We’re really going to pull this off! Relief flooded her, because…as she continued to tell those she worked with…nothing was ever written in stone until after the fact, and that most certainly included any of her downloads. Her full-throated laugh echoed around them. "Oh, puh-leeze! We’ve escaped you at least half a dozen times. Made you look the fool each and every time."

Ba’al searched his memory…he could remember each time this annoying group of humans had managed to find a way out of his holding cells, off his ship. His eyes glowed as his anger began to swell. "Once I have rid the universe of Daniel Jackson, you will have no reason to fight against me. And there is the fact that the two of you arrived alone…do the others even know you’re here? No, there is no escape this time."

Once again Casey laughed. "You just keep telling yourself that, Snakeface." She paused, putting her fingers against her lips. "Oops…you’re not a snake. Just a clone."

The Goa’uld took two steps closer to the seer. He frowned when she didn’t immediately back away from him. "Come. We must make ready for the ceremony." He reached out, ready to grab her, prepared to drag her to his quarters.

"Oh, sure. Whatever." Slender shoulders moved up and down.

Stopping mid-step, Ba’al stared at her. She had always fought him, with her words and her physical struggles.

Casey took a step toward the door. Couldn’t resist baiting the clone just a bit, not certain he had the memories of forcing her to bathe while he watched. "Well, come on. I’d like to get a bath in before all the bruhaha starts."

"Where are the words of hatred you always have for me?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"You’re just a clone. Not worth the effort." She took another step. "Are you coming or not?"

Shaken, Ba’al moved closer, reaching out to take her arm.

"Uh…no. No touching. Clone or not, I’m not allowing any Ba’al to touch me," Casey hissed, yanking her arm away. Clone or not, this was still ‘Ba’al’, and she still hated him with every fiber of her body.

Too shocked to do more than follow her, Ba’al allowed her to lead him to the elevator.

Daniel didn’t even struggle as the Jaffa dragged him toward the holding cells, and the dreaded interrogation room. He caught the surprised looks the Jaffa exchanged, and barely bit back his grin. The way he and Casey had just ‘appeared’, and now their atypical behavior was just confusing the hell out the help, he mused. No doubt Casey was making Ba’al’s head spin. Or spin more than it had been when they’d dropped the news that he was a clone.

It had been risky to approach this particular ship…it was one of the ships Ba’al used often. All of their intelligence indicated that this particular Goa’uld was the clone. But it hadn’t been a one hundred percent guarantee. Ba’al’s reaction to Casey’s question had proven that he was, as they suspected, the clone. Her recitation of the events of her clone’s death had shaken the Ba’al sitting on the throne. The Goa’uld’s face revealed his denial of what he was hearing, even though Daniel had seen the shock in his eyes.

The interrogation room was at the far end of the corridor on level seven. As far as he knew…going by what Casey had told him of her days spent on this particular ship…Ba’al’s chambers were on the first level, just above the pel’tak. That was a hell of a lot of climbing to do in the few minutes they’d have…

There were a dozen holding cells, six on each side of the narrow hallway. Again, Daniel didn’t struggle or fight as his hands were shoved into manacles…as he was raised until he was on tiptoe. "So, see you around the next time we drop in," Daniel called out as the Jaffa left the room.

The sound of zats being discharged echoed from the corridor. He couldn’t help but grin when Teal’c stepped into the room and promptly set about freeing him. "Well, Casey was right."

"Indeed."

"We should probably go get her before she starts getting pissy," Daniel said.

"Doing so will put Ba’al in our debt," Teal’c replied, poker-faced.

Chuckling, he followed the large man into the corridor. Jack and Sam were standing guard at the cross corridor.

Jack nodded toward the maintenance shaft. "Let’s go."

"How did Ba’al take the news?" Sam asked in a whisper.

"Tried to play it off that he didn’t believe us. Casey said that the ‘test’ would be what he remembered of her clone’s death. Whatever Ba’al believed happened to her, he was shocked to hear the truth." Daniel replied in kind.

"Or your version. If he’s convinced that he’s the real Ba’al, he won’t believe what you said," Sam pointed out.

Daniel shook his head slightly. "I don’t think he had a clue what had happened to the clone. He was shocked. Just before he could get control over his emotions, his face…his eyes betrayed that shock."

Jack glanced up at Teal’c. "Do you think this will make him behave the way we want him to?"

"I do. I believe he will be driven to prove that he is the real Ba’al. To do that, he’ll search to prove there is no other Ba’al. Whether he will look near his own holdings – where the real Ba’al is certain to be – I do not know," Teal’c answered.

Jack grinned. "Good. Having the two of them buzzing around looking for each other should shake up the Goa’uld neighborhood."

Sliding into the shaft, the four teammates began to move silently. The maintenance shafts had lovely ladder rungs. And, from what they could see, this particular shaft went straight to the top of the ship. As long as they didn’t run into any Jaffa who might be working on some system or another, it wouldn’t take more than ten minutes, fifteen at the most, for them to reach the level where Ba’al’s chambers were.

The thought that a lot of hell could be traveled in ten to fifteen minutes played at the edges of his mind as Daniel followed Sam. He pushed it away. No sense borrowing trouble.

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