Tsydon

The Sun On The Horizon

Fourteen

Flight of the Phoenix

the riddle of resurrection 

  dreams

Daniel dreamed.

Scattered images rose and faded in his mind. Voices called out, lost in unrecognisable times, drifted away into silence. The emptiness between the dreams was eternal, frightening and lonely. He struggled to find himself.

He stood in bright sunshine; the arc of an empty blue sky cradled the golden sands surrounding the massive white temple. The bright colours decorating the walls and columns of the building mirrored the dazzling clothes and jewels of the gods who stood under the portico, gathered around he who ruled them all – Ra.

They had come to swear their fealty to him but, as it ever was with their kind, they plotted and schemed. He held the hand of Isis, his consort, his eternal love. Beside them stood Merul, Heru’ur, Seth, Bastet and Anubis. All loved, feared and hated their Lord Ra in equal measure.

Ra reclined in his throne, his queen Hathor at his side, watching the humans parade along the causeway before them, cheering, waving, bearing icons and presenting gifts to their god. He looked down upon them and despised them for their slavery, hated them for being the same as he – Osiris, slave of Ra…

Golden light filled the void.

… Poison crept through his body, agonizing and fatal. The host was dying; he could not stay inside him. His vision darkened, fixed on the horror before him: his beloved Isis, fleeing her dead host, caught in the fist of their betrayer. Seth had convinced him to conspire against Ra. They had met in secret to discuss Hathor’s disappearance, drunk a toast of beer and in seconds lay dying on the ground. Seth sneered at him, picked up a large white Canopic jar and stuffed beloved Isis inside. He held a second jar, came closer and closer. The host expired, his dying breath expelled Osiris into the grasp of Seth. The jar loomed ever closer…

The light surrounded him, filled him.

… She curled in the belly of the priestess, excited and anxious. She was to be Queen, chosen by Lord Apophis to stand at his side. His previous Queen had vanished, why did not matter. Destiny had brought her to her rightful place, and her true love. She heard his voice and poked her head out of the womb.

The offered host stood before her. The pale hair was appealing, as was the face. But the body was too thin, unsuitable to provide the bearing of a Queen. She hissed her displeasure and returned to the warmth of her carrier. Find me another…

In the healing glow, Daniel moved restlessly, on the edge of waking.

… Another offering was presented. Young, beautiful, dark curls tumbling around slim shoulders. The body was strong, yet curved enticingly. The full breasts and wide hips would serve Apophis’s intended purpose. Yes. This one shall be mine…

“No! Sha’re….” Daniel screamed himself awake. His eyes flew open, hands reached out to hold his wife, but they closed on thin air, scraped on the lid of the sarcophagus. “Oh, god no.” He tried to sit up, cracked his skull on the stone lid. “Oh, crap.” Claustrophobia seized him, squeezing the air from his lungs.

The golden light pulsed around him. “Let me out!” he yelled, voice cracking with despair. The machine hummed a little louder. Sleep crept over his consciousness. His body went limp, eyes sliding shut.

“Sha’re….” He fell into nothingness for a long time.

…“That’s yours to keep…”

…“You are weak. You must assert your control. You are Klorel – son of the god Apophis. Would you allow this pitiful human to shame Us?”

“No, father. Forgive me, father. I will do better.”

He bowed his head, humiliated by the scorn of his sire. Within him, the other commiserated, said his father should not treat him in such a fashion. ‘Be quiet.’

‘Let me help you….’

He touched the cold metal object in his pocket. It was always there, had been since he first awoke in this body. Many times he had tried to rid himself of it, but something stayed his hand. Now, it was easier just to leave it there…

… He walked through the palace, bored. Still mistrusted and blamed for the loss of their Ha’taks over the Tau’ri homeworld, his father-god had left him behind. He went into the women’s quarters, scattered the human slaves with a scowl.

His mother-god reclined under the fans held by two male slaves. He sat at her feet for a long time, gazing curiously at her. The boy whispered to him, as he had many times before, told him that his father-god would never grant him power to wield independently. He would forever be inferior to him. Always he denied it, and punished the boy painfully, but each time he knew the truth of the claims. Now, his mother-god slept while the human child grew within the host.

 Loosening his control, he allowed the boy to speak.

“Sha’re?”

“Skarra.”

Their hands met, clung together. “We have heard of a race called the Tollan. If we left, we could ask for their help.”

They had spoken like this many times, the boy and his sister. He had fought it at first, then as their hopeless talk of freedom grew more determined, he allowed it, even encouraged it, for it mirrored his own desires.

He wanted to leave, and the boy would not go without the sister. Perhaps it was time…

…She was gone. Taken in the night, placed into hiding by his father-god. Their chance at freedom had passed. The boy cried, desolate. He comforted him as best he could. He touched the cold metal thing in his pocket…

Light filled his senses, calming his restlessness.

…“Let me take the fleet, father. I will defeat the Tau’ri, and the glory of the victory will be yours.”

His father-god stared at him with doubt-filled eyes. “No. We do not believe you strong enough to conduct such a task. We shall command Our fleet. You may take Our secondary Ha’tak. Follow in Our wake, and learn from Our greatness. But first, you shall sleep in the god’s chamber. Strengthen yourself, my son. Prove to Us you are capable.”

“I will not fail, father. I am prepared.”

Within him, the boy urged him on.

He touched the metal object and walked toward his destiny.

 Daniel tossed fitfully on the threshold of waking, but unable to cross over. His lips twitched with pride at his brother’s defiance. The image of a small metal lighter circled in his head, and he clung to it, determined to remember. To tell Jack.

 The timeless limbo of golden light suddenly altered. Daniel became aware as his heart increased its rhythm, his blood surged through his veins, resuming normal pace. He could feel his fingers and toes, feel the air moving through his nose, down into his lungs. His eyelids fluttered, blinked open. The penetrating light was fading, a paler, more wholesome light replacing it.

The lid is open.

As he tried to muster the strength to sit up, a hand reached down, curled around his neck and eased him up. Dizziness swamped him. A groan escaped as he listed sideways into the sarcophagus’ wall. The hand firmed its grip around his back, another under his knees and he was lifted up.

The hateful box was gone. Daniel let his head sag back in relief and filled his lungs with pure air. His feet touched the ground, but his knees buckled and threatened to send the rest of him down. The hands gripped his body, pressed him close to another. He let his head drop onto a strong shoulder.

“Breathe, Adon. Your strength will return soon.”

Barely supporting his own weight, his limbs trembled. He pulled in breath after breath, and finally got his eyes open again. Beyond the dark clothing of whoever held him, everything was a green blur, backlit by a weird orange blur.

“Wh…?”

“Can you stand, Adon? We must hurry.”

“N….” The person supporting him let him take his own weight. He locked his knees and stood quivering like a newborn colt.

“Adon?” A hand grabbed his chin, shook his head a little. “Daniel!”

He focused with some effort. A blurred face resolved into Ba'al. “B….”

“Yes, Adon. Good. Come now, we have little time.”

“Fi… finished?”

“No. Unfortunately your healing sleep has been interrupted. We will explain later. Come.” Ba'al still held his shoulders, stilling his swaying body.

“Why…?”

“We have no time for talk. Concentrate on breathing.” Ba'al pulled him close again. Daniel’s stupefied brain barely identified the green blur behind Ba'al as the foliage of Eshmun’s temple before metallic bands wrapped around them, and the temple was replaced by the familiar furnishings of his suite in the citadel.

Blood drained out of his head in the sudden displacement. He moaned and slumped bonelessly against Ba'al.

“Thapreet. Sit, Adon.”

Soft material touched his skin. Ba'al deposited him on a sofa and stepped away, speaking urgently with someone. Another person approached, bent over him and lifted his head from the cushions. Cold glass pressed against his lips. “Drink, Adon. You will feel better.”

Obediently, he swallowed the sweet liquid. He dragged his eyes open again, surprised as warmth spread out through his body. It tasted like chillies and nutmeg. He coughed, then accepted the rest of the drink.

“Good. Rest a moment, now.” The person stood back, and he recognized Kosharta. She regarded him critically, then nodded.

Head lolling on the sofa, he watched her moving around the room. “What… s’happening?”

Ba'al stood by the windows, eerily silhouetted by the orange glow in the sky. He looked grimmer than Daniel had ever seen him. A high-pitched whine echoed from outside, followed by a dull boom, which rattled the closed windows.

Kosharta came back with a basin and cloth, and proceeded to wash his face and body. Daniel kept staring at Ba'al.

“Our city is under attack, Adon,” Ba'al said, his voice filled with cold murder. “It is Our own fault. We flaunted you in front of Lord Yu. We knew his court was full of spies.” Another boom – not quite an explosion – punctuated the Goa'uld’s words.

Kosharta brandished a towel and vigorously rubbed Daniel dry.

“Yu is attacking?” Daniel asked, perplexed.

Ba'al strode closer. “No. It is the fleet of Anubis. Led by Zipacna.” Ba'al’s voice dripped scorn. “He cannot do the deed himself. He relies on his disposable lackeys.”

Daniel stared, horrified at the orange glow beyond his room. “The city? It’s on fire? The people—”

A smile creased Ba'al’s face. He raised a hand, aborting Daniel’s alarm. “Our city and Our people are unharmed, Adon. Rest assured we are well protected. What you see is Our defence shield. It covers this city, Our ports and all Our outlying villages. No amount of bombardment will exhaust its power supplies.”

“Oh.” He sank back into the sofa. Kosharta bustled away, picked up an armful of clothes and came back. “Wait. You mean Anubis is attacking…. He wants me?”

Kosharta knelt and guided his feet into a pair of pants. Ba'al stopped behind her. “Yes, Daniel. We are unsure how much the Hidden One knows, but he has demanded We turn you over to him.”

Pants up to his knees, Kosharta grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. She drew the pants up and fastened them while Daniel watched numbly.

“You’re giving me to him.” He couldn’t look at Ba'al.

Ba'al’s explosive laugh made him jump. “Never! Never would We turn over Our lowliest Jaffa to that one, let alone you whom We prize so highly. You have a strange opinion of your worth, Adon.”

Confused, he looked at Ba'al. “Then, where are we going? You took me out of the sarcophagus before the… treatment was finished.”

“We are sending you to Our partners. We believe you should be sufficiently healed, and We will be able to access the information you carry. We will soon begin Our campaign. We shall rid Our home skies of this nuisance and join you before you reach your destination. Anubis has signed his death warrant with this action against Us.”

“Partners….” Barely able to keep up, Daniel watched Kosharta as she removed the gold bands from his arms, and the diamond chain from his waist, dropping them next to Astarte’s diamond favour.

She touched Eshmun’s ruby. “Sire?” she enquired softly.

“No. Leave it. It proclaims to all who he is. That he is Ours.”

She nodded, removed the adornments from Daniel’s hair, then helped him into a jacket. The rich, heavily embroidered material matched the royal purple of the pants. Kosharta buttoned it up and tugged it firmly down over his hips, then pushed him down into the seat and slipped his feet into socks and high boots of the same colour.

“Osiris will kill me.”

“No, he will not.”

“She thinks I know where Isis is.” He automatically referred to that Goa'uld as ‘she’. After all, it was Sarah he saw.

“Do you?”

“Wh… er… she’s dead. She died probably millennia ago, in the stasis jar Seth sealed her in.” Images flashed through his head from half-remembered dreams. “When Osiris finds out, she’s not gonna be happy.”

“Ah. Well, We suggest you do not tell him then.” Ba'al leaned over and peered at Daniel. “Do not worry, Adon. We will be at your side the whole time.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Kosharta pulled him to his feet again. The clothes felt strange, tight but not restrictive, and made him aware of how long it had been since he’d last worn decent clothing. Ba'al stepped in front of him, forcing Daniel to look him in the eye.

“You are safe with us, Adon. We have vowed this.” He smiled and wrapped a hand around the back of Daniel’s neck. His other hand came up and Daniel realised what it was he held. He tried to duck away, but his body was not recovered yet. The sudden movement made his head swim. He wavered and Ba'al easily caught him. Ba'al pressed the silencer to his throat. Slender filaments sank into his skin, and cold metal stole his protests.

 Daniel scowled at him and ineffectually clawed at the silencer. Outside, another strike against the city’s shield made the room vibrate. Ba'al gripped his arm and firmly steered him across the room, towards the hidden doorway that led to the scanning room.

“Wait! My Lord, one moment.” Kosharta ran after them. She held a small drawstring bag, the same colour as Daniel’s clothing. Reaching out, she tied it to a loop on his waistband. “The Adon’s glasses. So that he may see his way clearly.” Her stern face softened in a wistful smile. She reached up, patted his cheek, then fastened his high collar over the silencer. “Fair journey and farewell, Daniel.”

Daniel blinked, surprised and touched by her display of warmth. He gave her a little wave goodbye, then Ba'al was tugging him through the door and down the long passageway.

farewell

The rings at the end took them down. Ba'al strode rapidly along the hall, past the door to the scanning room, which relieved Daniel greatly. The Goa'uld’s grip on his arm was unwavering. At the far end of the hall two Rephaim stood guard. Ba'al walked past them and stopped, drawing Daniel close.

Rings shot up around them, making him jump. Down they went once again, and were deposited in a vast, natural cavern. Daniel had little time to take it in. Ba'al pulled him forward, their footsteps echoing around them. The roof of the cave was hung with a beautiful display of stalactites, all gleaming in an eerie blue light. Reluctant to pull his gaze back to where he was going, he found the source of that rippling blue light.

A Stargate.

In all its majesty, it sat in the centre of the cavern. A circle of Rephaim stood watch around it. Resheph walked toward them and bowed respectfully. “My Lord, the way is clear. Our fleet fares well in the engagement above Tsydon. Anubis has lost two Hat’ak and will lose many more,” she reported grimly.

“Excellent. And Our defences? How fares the shield?”

“It has not weakened, my Lord. The power source holds firm, and the energy from the bombardment is being channelled into the reserve power supply. We will be able to deploy the shield for many weeks, at the very least.”

Ba'al made a low growling laugh. “As We planned, Resheph. But it will be unnecessary. Within days We will have at Our disposal the means of eradicating Anubis and his cronies.” He started toward the Stargate, tugging Daniel along. “Come, Adon. Your moment of glory is nigh upon us.”

Filled with trepidation, Daniel approached the Stargate. He cast a final look back at Resheph and her soldiers, and wondered if he would ever see Tsydon again. Part of him hoped not, but he knew there was much about this planet he liked and would miss.

The wormhole drew him in, then he was out, stumbling in a different gravity. Ice crystals, formed in the journey and compounded by the cold bite of the air, pinched at his exposed skin. It was dark, stars hung clearly, brilliantly above them. Beneath his feet, bare rock stretched away in all directions. A platoon of Jaffa stood at attention, ringing the Gate and DHD.

The Stargate snapped off, leaving them bathed in starlight. Daniel gazed at it longingly. All it would take was a few steps, seven symbols slapped down and he could be gone, whisked away to any of a large number of friendly planets. Free. Safe.

Steely fingers pressed into his bicep and made him realise he’d actually taken a couple of steps toward the DHD. Ba'al frowned at him and dragged him in the opposite direction.

The Jaffa squad leader stepped up and thumped his breastplate in salute. “My Lord, your vessel awaits. It is cloaked. The enemy have not discovered us.”

Ba'al acknowledged him with a nod. He drew Daniel to him and looked intently into his eyes. “Here we must part, Daniel. Our Jaffa will keep you safe while We deal with this attack on Our home.” He looked up and Daniel followed his gaze, seeing only the steady glow of stars in the velvet backdrop of space. “Tsydon is there.” Ba'al pointed to a bright, bluish glow. “Do not be concerned for Our people. No harm will befall them, nor you, Daniel. We shall join you soon, then We shall bring Our peace to the galaxy. This…,” he indicated the invisible battle raging over Tsydon, “will be the last senseless action of war.”

Ba'al caressed his cheek. “Follow the directives of Our Jaffa. Mneehh dareek, Daniel.” Good journey. 

The System Lord stood back and nodded curtly to the Jaffa. Four Jaffa surrounded Daniel. A hum came from beneath his feet. Around them, the base of a ring transporter glowed. Daniel had one final glimpse of Ba'al, standing tall and implacable, his handsome face determined and edged with a proud smile.

The rings came up and Daniel was swept away.

gone

They arrived on a large Goa'uld ship, probably a Hat’ak. Jaffa were everywhere, standing guard at the doorway, moving purposely through the corridors.

Daniel was quickly escorted to a room, and locked inside. He sank onto the bed, fingers automatically going to the device on his throat. It was firmly attached, so thin he couldn’t get a proper grip on it. He managed to get one fingernail under an edge and pulled. Pain shot through his skin and up and down his throat. He gagged and soundlessly coughed.

Okay. Leaving that there.

He sighed. The journey from sarcophagus to Hat’ak had drained what strength he had. Exhaustion crept over him and pushed away the worries and conjectures crowding his thoughts. He slumped back on the bed and was quickly asleep.

He woke to sirens and the smell of acrid smoke. Two Jaffa were standing over him, shouting at him to wake, and hauling him off the bed. They dragged him out into the corridor and a scene of chaos. Sparks showered down from overloaded electrical systems. Barely keeping his feet, Daniel was hustled through smoke and debris. The whole ship shuddered and threw them into the wall. They pulled him up and continued on.

Announcements were coming over the ship’s comms: hyperdrive gone, sublight engines failing, shields failing, hull integrity compromised in seven key areas. Their attacker was identified as Anubis, and whoever was on the Peltak was vowing bloody vengeance on him for this cowardly sneak attack.

They skirted a group of Jaffa feverishly battling a fire. Daniel’s Jaffa took him into the ring transport room, and in a flash they were on an Al’kesh bomber. Through the view screen, Daniel could see the open door of the flight deck, black space beyond filled with laser fire and darting death gliders.

Cold metal wrapped around his wrists. He tried to jerk away but the Jaffa held him while another manacled his wrists together. They pushed him down to the floor and stood over him.

The ship gathered speed and fled the embattled larger vessel. Out in the openness of space, he caught a stunning view of dozens of smaller ships wheeling around three Ha’taks, which were locked in a punishing duel. Fire blossomed from each one and was extinguished in the vacuum.

The Al’kesh gathered speed, slipping through a protective cordon of gliders, and out into clear space.

Apprehensive, Daniel watched, and hated being so powerless, his fate in the hands of strangers.

The navigator swiftly selected a course, while the pilot readied the ship’s hyperdrive. The Al’kesh kicked up to unimaginable speed.  At the moment they reached the threshold of hyperspace, a jarring impact threw everyone flying.

The ship tilted, spun off its course, but the engaged engines took over and they shot to hyperspeed, leaving their attackers far behind.

They limped along for two days, engines only just keeping them in hyperspace. Curled on a blanket in the cargo space, in between long hours of being ignored, Daniel caught a few words in the worried conversation of the pilot and the Jaffa in charge. There were seven of them with him, and they all looked worried. Well they should. They were off-course, unable to contact anyone and about to run out of fuel.

The ship creaked alarmingly, and the engines rose to a cringe-inducing shriek, which produced a flurry of activity at the controls. With a feeling like they had tripped over something, the engines died and the view screen changed from the star-streaked darkness of space to a horrifyingly close image of a planet.

Even Daniel, a novice space traveller, could tell they were too close. He could see land mass and vast green seas beneath the clouds, which were coming nearer every second. Shouts of panic filled the little ship, something about gravity wells, and unresponsive engines.

Oh, crap. Is this how it ends? Burnt to a crisp on some unknown planet. There won’t even be a body, let alone anyone to tell the tale. Jack…Teal'c, Sam, I’m sorry. I hope you know how I feel about you all.

He stared in morbid fascination as the planet below began to spin, its gravity sucking the ship down in an uncontrolled dive. A horrendous noise assailed them – the planet’s atmosphere dragging against the hull as the ship plummeted. Two Jaffa ran into the hold and pulled him to his feet, fear etched on their faces. They dragged him onto the flight deck and without pause, shoved him into one of the escape pods. He barely had time to turn around and see the looming planet one last time before the doors closed over him, sealing him in.

The control panel by the doors blinked from red to green, then shifted back to red. Appalled, he watched the pattern repeat. The pod release wasn’t working. Again and again the green gave way to red, and the pod stayed attached to the doomed ship. Daniel brought his manacled hands up, and blessing Martouf and his meticulous instructions on a previous trip to Hell, he flipped open the access panel, grabbed the manual release lever and yanked it down.

Falling

A prayer, ancient and comforting came silently to his lips. In his head, his mother’s voice spoke the words as she had spoken them over him, so long ago.

Clinging to that slender thread of hope, Daniel fell.

Å

Tsydon

Book Two

The Sun on the Horizon

Thapreet : Phoenician word for Neverworld, Hell, Bugger it.

 Epilogue - The Space In Between

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