Science Fiction Fantasy Chronicles: forums - View Single Post

2muchtvs · 23rd February 2002, 03:01 AM

SPOILER WARNING : THIS STORY IS MEANT TO TAKE PLACE AFTER SEASON FIVE. There is a bit of cussing.

I hope that this isn’t starting to be too hard to follow. I am trying to tell it from many points of views and I know that that could be distracting. This is also my first story, so I appreciate your patience.

I had mulled this plot over in my head for months. I love to read fan fiction, but I rarely saw one written that included a Goa’uld point of view. Then I started thinking, what would have happened if one of those little critters of Daniel and Hathor’s lived. I mean talk about a dysfunctional lineage. Then Daniel died on the series and I figured it was a good time to unleash this mess.

I realize that I need to have a recap/explanation chapter pretty soon to explain some of what is happening.

Thanks again for taking the time to read, ML

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What Shall Be: Scene Thirteen
2muchtvs

Kha'sekhem was tired. Actually he was completely exhausted. He knew that he should probably be concerned that two fully loaded weapons stood poised to blow him all to hell but at the moment it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. The Gou’ald had had a busy 24 hours after all and this human body thing took some time getting used to. In addition to his lethargy, there was also the small matter of his host. Callen, the young man whose body Kha'sekhem had taken possession of, would not shut up. The village boy rambled and blathered on in the Gou’ald’s head like an endless clap of thunder. Kha'sekhem had mentally threatened Callen with a multitude of painful incentives to quiet down and behave but the young host would have none of it. He continued to peck away at Kha'sekhem’s inner peace like a woodpecker on a dead tree trunk. Kha'sekhem made a mental note to himself, ‘ The next host I take will be from the absolutely least evolved race that I stumble on’.

Looking across the large tent, Kha'sekhem studied the other source of his angst; SG 1.

They were three most unpleasant people.

He had known Kasuf for almost a day and the man had yet to even pull so much as a butter knife on him. SG 1 was another matter.

He had spoke to Jack all of two minutes before weapon number one had been drawn. He only said ‘Hi’ to Sam before she produced weapon number two and now, Jack and the huge Jaffa Teal’c, had rushed in, Teal’c brandishing weapon number three.

A most unpleasant group of people indeed.

Kha'sekhem searched the archive of memories in his consciousness, rummaging around for an acceptable plan of action. For a Gou’ald, his mother Hathor had not been particularly aggressive, preferring to maintain an air of collected confidence in lieu of anger and threats. Her memories urged him to placate the humans, let them believe that they had complete control, then lie in wait until a moment when he could either recruit them or obliterate them. His father’s memories of these people were so convoluted by emotions that Kha'sekhem had difficulty trying to discern what Daniel Jackson would have done if he found himself in a similar situation. Kha'sekhem decided to approach the situation as Hathor would have.

Having done one more quick assessment of Daniel’s memories of his friends, Kha'sekhem concluded that addressing Sam first was his best bet. The pretty blond woman’s reaction to him was a mystery. Kha'sekhem had no idea how she had figured out that he was a Gou’ald. The Jaffa, Teal’c, carried a larva, so his ability to detect a symbiote was understandable. But the woman, how had she managed to identify him so quickly? He tried again to scan Daniel’s memory bank about Sam, but he drew a blank. Callen’s constant droning on didn’t help his concentration. Kha'sekhem took a deep breath, let out a fatigued sigh, and attempted a dialogue with Sam.

“Captain Carter, I am unarmed, there is no reason for your weapon. Please put it down so we may talk. I had no intention of upsetting you. I was actually pleased when I saw you enter the tent. You are even more beautiful than my father’s impressions allowed. Please, just put down the weapon and allow me to speak to you in a more dignified manner.”

Carter didn’t answer him back. Instead she turned to Jack and looked for guidance.

O’Neill leaned over and whispered something into her ear. Carter and Teal’c separated slightly, continuing to aim their weapons at the Gou’ald, but changing their positions so that they were facing him at more of an angle.

“Nope”, Jack stated as he started to move towards Kha'sekhem. “You see, I was going to let her talk to you, really I was, but that was before you failed to mention that you were a slimy, parasitic snake. You see, for that little omission, you are back to dealing only with me.”

Kha'sekhem, having absolutely no desire to exchange even the same oxygen as O’Neill, lowered his head, shaking it back and forth in frustration. He was feeling sorry for himself.

In the span of one day, he had managed to bury his most faithful servant Chona, threaten the lives of ten young children, invade the body of what must be the most talkative host available in the universe, choke on Aydonian dust, have a big gun pointed to his head, be locked in a tent that reeked of beast urine, have another gun and staff weapon pointed at him by two people he hadn’t even been formally introduced to, and last but not least contend with the fact that if he ever hoped to met Daniel Jackson, he was going to have to execute a civil conversation with one very arrogant Colonel Jack O’Neill.

Kha'sekhem took one look at O’Neill’s swaggering approach and simply said to himself, ‘To hell with this’.

“Save yourself the effort of coming over here Jack, I told you two hours ago that I had no desire to have a conversation with you. I assure you, nothing has changed. Either you produce Daniel Jackson, or please leave me the hell alone. I’m tired. If you will excuse me, or even if you won’t, I’m taking a nap.”

With that, the Gou’ald made his way back to the hard bench that he had been laying on when Carter had entered the tent. Kha'sekhem lowered himself to the bench, turned to his side, wrapped his arms around his body, let out a huge yawn, and closed his eyes.

As his eyelids dropped, shutting out Jack and the rest of SG 1, Kha'sekhem conducted one last order of business.

‘SHUT UP Callen’, he screamed mentally to his host. ‘I’ve had my fill of you as well’.

To be continued……………………….

23rd February 2002, 03:01 AM	#36 (permalink)
2muchtvs Senior Member Join Date: Dec 2001 Posts: 252	What Shall Be: Scene Thirteen SPOILER WARNING : THIS STORY IS MEANT TO TAKE PLACE AFTER SEASON FIVE. There is a bit of cussing. I hope that this isn’t starting to be too hard to follow. I am trying to tell it from many points of views and I know that that could be distracting. This is also my first story, so I appreciate your patience. I had mulled this plot over in my head for months. I love to read fan fiction, but I rarely saw one written that included a Goa’uld point of view. Then I started thinking, what would have happened if one of those little critters of Daniel and Hathor’s lived. I mean talk about a dysfunctional lineage. Then Daniel died on the series and I figured it was a good time to unleash this mess. I realize that I need to have a recap/explanation chapter pretty soon to explain some of what is happening. Thanks again for taking the time to read, ML ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ What Shall Be: Scene Thirteen 2muchtvs Kha'sekhem was tired. Actually he was completely exhausted. He knew that he should probably be concerned that two fully loaded weapons stood poised to blow him all to hell but at the moment it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. The Gou’ald had had a busy 24 hours after all and this human body thing took some time getting used to. In addition to his lethargy, there was also the small matter of his host. Callen, the young man whose body Kha'sekhem had taken possession of, would not shut up. The village boy rambled and blathered on in the Gou’ald’s head like an endless clap of thunder. Kha'sekhem had mentally threatened Callen with a multitude of painful incentives to quiet down and behave but the young host would have none of it. He continued to peck away at Kha'sekhem’s inner peace like a woodpecker on a dead tree trunk. Kha'sekhem made a mental note to himself, ‘ The next host I take will be from the absolutely least evolved race that I stumble on’. Looking across the large tent, Kha'sekhem studied the other source of his angst; SG 1. They were three most unpleasant people. He had known Kasuf for almost a day and the man had yet to even pull so much as a butter knife on him. SG 1 was another matter. He had spoke to Jack all of two minutes before weapon number one had been drawn. He only said ‘Hi’ to Sam before she produced weapon number two and now, Jack and the huge Jaffa Teal’c, had rushed in, Teal’c brandishing weapon number three. A most unpleasant group of people indeed. Kha'sekhem searched the archive of memories in his consciousness, rummaging around for an acceptable plan of action. For a Gou’ald, his mother Hathor had not been particularly aggressive, preferring to maintain an air of collected confidence in lieu of anger and threats. Her memories urged him to placate the humans, let them believe that they had complete control, then lie in wait until a moment when he could either recruit them or obliterate them. His father’s memories of these people were so convoluted by emotions that Kha'sekhem had difficulty trying to discern what Daniel Jackson would have done if he found himself in a similar situation. Kha'sekhem decided to approach the situation as Hathor would have. Having done one more quick assessment of Daniel’s memories of his friends, Kha'sekhem concluded that addressing Sam first was his best bet. The pretty blond woman’s reaction to him was a mystery. Kha'sekhem had no idea how she had figured out that he was a Gou’ald. The Jaffa, Teal’c, carried a larva, so his ability to detect a symbiote was understandable. But the woman, how had she managed to identify him so quickly? He tried again to scan Daniel’s memory bank about Sam, but he drew a blank. Callen’s constant droning on didn’t help his concentration. Kha'sekhem took a deep breath, let out a fatigued sigh, and attempted a dialogue with Sam. “Captain Carter, I am unarmed, there is no reason for your weapon. Please put it down so we may talk. I had no intention of upsetting you. I was actually pleased when I saw you enter the tent. You are even more beautiful than my father’s impressions allowed. Please, just put down the weapon and allow me to speak to you in a more dignified manner.” Carter didn’t answer him back. Instead she turned to Jack and looked for guidance. O’Neill leaned over and whispered something into her ear. Carter and Teal’c separated slightly, continuing to aim their weapons at the Gou’ald, but changing their positions so that they were facing him at more of an angle. “Nope”, Jack stated as he started to move towards Kha'sekhem. “You see, I was going to let her talk to you, really I was, but that was before you failed to mention that you were a slimy, parasitic snake. You see, for that little omission, you are back to dealing only with me.” Kha'sekhem, having absolutely no desire to exchange even the same oxygen as O’Neill, lowered his head, shaking it back and forth in frustration. He was feeling sorry for himself. In the span of one day, he had managed to bury his most faithful servant Chona, threaten the lives of ten young children, invade the body of what must be the most talkative host available in the universe, choke on Aydonian dust, have a big gun pointed to his head, be locked in a tent that reeked of beast urine, have another gun and staff weapon pointed at him by two people he hadn’t even been formally introduced to, and last but not least contend with the fact that if he ever hoped to met Daniel Jackson, he was going to have to execute a civil conversation with one very arrogant Colonel Jack O’Neill. Kha'sekhem took one look at O’Neill’s swaggering approach and simply said to himself, ‘To hell with this’. “Save yourself the effort of coming over here Jack, I told you two hours ago that I had no desire to have a conversation with you. I assure you, nothing has changed. Either you produce Daniel Jackson, or please leave me the hell alone. I’m tired. If you will excuse me, or even if you won’t, I’m taking a nap.” With that, the Gou’ald made his way back to the hard bench that he had been laying on when Carter had entered the tent. Kha'sekhem lowered himself to the bench, turned to his side, wrapped his arms around his body, let out a huge yawn, and closed his eyes. As his eyelids dropped, shutting out Jack and the rest of SG 1, Kha'sekhem conducted one last order of business. ‘SHUT UP Callen’, he screamed mentally to his host. ‘I’ve had my fill of you as well’. To be continued……………………….