Daniel wasn't sure what to do about the thing that looked like Kaiba currently standing guard by the door. It hadn't said a word since it appeared. It? He? Kaiba had called it Cloning. Was that its name? Was it a shapeshifting creature? If so, what species was it and where the hell did it come from?
Blue eyes glanced curiously at him and Daniel blinked. Cloning's eyes weren't quite the same as Kaiba's. The color was right but they weren't... They just didn't seem... right. Wow, that was not a great description but it was the best Daniel could come up with. It wasn't a visible difference so much as a... feel difference. Kaiba's gaze was always wary but curious. This blue gaze was more curious and lacked the hard edges of Kaiba's glacial ice.
"Um, hi," Daniel said, raising a hesitant hand in a half-hearted wave. "I'm Daniel."
Cloning tilted its head in acknowledgement but said nothing.
Okay. Maybe it couldn't speak.
...and this was getting awkward. Guess it was time to go back to the Mirror.
Adjusting his grip on the remote control, Daniel grimaced and sighed. A twitch of the dial and the reality reflected on the Mirror's surface changed yet again. It was familiar but no one stood on the other side and the lights in the room were out. Keep searching.
Change. Nope. Change. Closer but still nope. Change. Change! Wow. Daniel had not been ready to see that. He did not want to think about Jack in a clown suit. Why had that even happened?! What could have possibly convinced Jack to do that? What... You know what? Nevermind. Don't question it.
He would have nightmares about that though. He shivered and adjusted his glasses.
Next world. Boring. Next. Not right. Next. Closer. Next. Woah! The Mirror was outside? And moving? Oh, it was being loaded on a plane. Not right. Next.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed but the distinctive sound of Jaffa boots marching towards him would knock him out of any funk. Startled, he whirled around to see Cloning crouched by the doorway, the golden bladed rod gripped tightly in his right hand. Daniel hesitated. Should he keep looking through the worlds? Each change made noise. What if he was caught? The Goa'uld could not be allowed to get control of the Quantum Mirror. He could only imagine the havoc they would cause by traveling between realities.
"Jaffa! Kree!"
Damn! He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know he'd been found out. At least he hadn't been shot yet. The sound of metal striking metal sent jolts of adrenaline racing through his system. Cloning must be keeping the Jaffa at bay. But how long would that last?
Thud.
Huh?
Ka-thud-clang.
This time, Daniel couldn't resist. He turned and saw the bodies of two, fully armed Jaffa splayed out on the floor. One's throat had been cut and the other twitched pitifully around a bleeding, gaping hole it his abdomen. Their staff weapons were discarded on the ground. Was that one cracked?! How did that-
A flash of gold drew Daniel's attention to the bloody golden rod in Cloning's hand. No way. But gold was a soft metal. It wasn't exactly preferable for weapons or armor. It was decorative and useful, but not for warfare. How could a solid gold rod, even with those identical blades on either side of the rod's spherical top, possibly break a staff weapon? Unless it wasn't solid gold but gold plated perhaps?
But there were no dents in it. Actually, there wasn't much blood on it either. How did... It was drenched two seconds ago. Where did all the blood go?
As Daniel watched, the blood still splattered on the golden rod's surface began to fade like fog on a window in a cool morning. It was the strangest thing. The rod looked, well, shinier than before. Why was that?
Cloning stiffened, flipped the rod so he held the handle like a knife, and darted out into the hallway. The sound of a blade sinking viciously into flesh met Daniel's ears and he gulped. Metal clanged and more booted feet rushed down the hallway towards the room. Daniel had no doubt Cloning could handle himself, but anyone could get overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
Daniel could fight if push came to shove, but he would much rather talk. Talking he could do, fighting he could... passably do. Besides, if he kept working with the Quantum Mirror, he ran the risk of accidentally revealing to the Jaffa and, by extension, the Goa'uld how to use the technology. And if he found the right reality, then what? Leave it open until the gang returned? Escape through the Mirror alone without Jack and Teal'c and Kaiba? No, the latter was not even remotely an option.
"Jack's going to kill me," he muttered under his breath.
With a huff of frustration, Daniel switched off the Mirror and quickly scanned the room. There wasn't any good place to hide the remote where it wouldn't immediately be found except for the crates. So he pried the top of one of the wooden crates open and tossed the remote inside before dropping the lid shut.
Then he drew his gun and stepped warily towards the doorway. Pressing his back against the wall, he leaned around and peered out into the hall. Cloning was handling the situation, but even Daniel could tell he wouldn't last much longer with martial arts and his rod alone. Odd. If Cloning was identical to Kaiba, then why wasn't Cloning using a kara kesh? Daniel knew Kaiba had one.
Unless Cloning only mimicked Kaiba appearance and physical ability at the time of replication. That was more up Sam's alley than Daniel's but if it was true, then this was probably the right decision. Daniel lifted his gun and stared because holy shit!
Cloning had literally just tossed a Jaffa back down the hall hard enough to slam him against the wall without a kara kesh. That was impressive.
Still. He missed one.
Daniel raised his gun and fired at the Jaffa stalking Cloning from behind. It wasn't a headshot. Actually, it wasn't a good shot at all, but it was definitely a lucky shot. The bullet pinged off the Jaffa's armor before deflecting into the soft unprotected area underneath the warrior's raised forearm. The Jaffa grunted, flinching back, and staggering briefly before his head suddenly rolled off of his shoulders.
Oh.
Daniel gulped. He'd seen a lot, especially over the past few years, but a beheading wasn't... Well, it certainly wasn't a sight he could remember seeing. Nor was it a sight he ever wanted to see again.
The sound of a staff blast rang down the hallway, an energetic hum compared to the loud pop of gunfire, followed by a hoarse cry of pained surprise. Cloning stumbled back towards Daniel facing where the blast had come from. One hand was pressed against a shoulder which wasn't bleeding but-
It wasn't bleeding. Why wasn't it bleeding? Staff blasts tended to cauterize wounds, true, but they still bled and burned the fabric and skin around the wound leaving scorch marks. None of those tell-tale marks were visible. Daniel blinked and stared at the wound in confusion.
It looked more like a computer error. It fizzled and blurred before resettling in the form of Cloning's trench coat. That was new.
Cloning's eyes flashed gold and the Jaffa cursed, preparing to fire once more. Except this blast wasn't aimed at Cloning. It was aimed at Daniel. Orange gold energy blazed across the expanse towards him. Daniel had just long enough to comprehend the fact that this was going to hurt before he was pushed aside and Cloning was suddenly there and gone!
Where Cloning had been was just sparks and shards that shimmered and fizzled like the last embers of a dying firework. Then Daniel was alone and Jaffa rushed into the Quantum Mirror room.
He wasn't stupid. He surrendered. The Jaffa didn't kill him. Jack, however, was going to kill him.
~XxX~
Seto flinched in annoyance when he felt Cloning's defeat. He was too far away to make it back in time to save Dr. Jackson. He clicked his tongue in frustration and slammed the bladed top of the Rod into the head of the nearest Jaffa he'd subdued. He had deliberately drawn the Jaffa's attention, luring them away from Dr. Jackson and the Quantum Mirror and into a deadly game of cat-and-mouse.
Unfortunately, Seto's luck decided to be exceptionally bad today. Honestly, all he'd wanted to do this morning was destroy a couple interlopers and go home to rest and prepare for his return flight to Japan. Now he was the interloper and not at all pleased with the scenario. Obelisk have mercy on his sanity. He wanted to burn something.
Why the hell not.
He didn't have a full circle of Shadowmancers like the Shadow Court in Ancient Egypt to back him up and absorb the magickal backlash so he would need to be careful. But one brief burst shouldn't be too big of a problem as long as he kept the Rod on his person. The backlash would give him a headache, but if it made him feel better right now and helped him burn off some excess energy and stress, then it would be well worth it. Besides, if Ra saw fit to watch over this little misadventure, then Dr. Carter was already through the Chappa'ai and convincing the Asgard to help.
With Cloning's defeat, Dr. Jackson was likely captured. Apophis may be an idiot but he wasn't entirely stupid, however oxymoronic that sounded. Seto recognized the golden glyph on Teal'c's forehead. Not only was Teal'c once one of Apophis' Jaffa, he had been the System Lord's First Prime.
Whereas common Jaffa had the glyph of their respective System Lord tattooed on their foreheads, the First Primes had the glyphs cut into their foreheads with molten gold poured into the wounds. It was a permanent mark of possession and slavery, though very few First Primes or Jaffa in general saw it that way. To them, it was a symbol of power, influence, and loyalty, something to achieve and respect. The fact Teal'c was so obviously against the System Lords now even though he had once held the prestigious position of First Prime of Apophis was enough to garner Seto's grudging respect.
Teal'c was quiet but thoughtful and shrewd. If Teal'c was still Apophis' First Prime in this world, then the Jaffa under his command would be trained to be just as thoughtful and shrewd. If Apophis' Jaffa knew what they were doing, then they wouldn't kill Dr. Jackson. The man was obviously a scholar and scientists were less likely to be killed outright and more likely to be captured alive and forced into servitude.
Seto liked Dr. Jackson. The thought of the glasses nerd who was passionate about languages and history forced to work under the Goa'uld he despised rubbed Seto the wrong way. He highly doubted Dr. Jackson would survive the experience; either due to suicide or being caught selling vital information to Apophis' enemies. Seto had no doubt Dr. Jackson was clever enough to figure out a way to pull that off.
However, with Dr. Jackson captured, Apophis would have leverage against Col. O'Neill and the male interloper Kawal-whatever. Seto did not like Kawal-whatever but he was not about to let Dr. Jackson suffer under Apophis' oh-so-gentle care. Besides, he hated Apophis. The least Seto could do was give the bastard System Lord the scare of his life.
"Jaffa! Kree!" he shouted into the dark hallway. He didn't have to see the Jaffa to know they were there waiting for him to approach their position. "Throwing your cannon fodder at me will do nothing but add to your pathetically high body count." He twirled his Millennium Rod loosely in his hand before slipping it into his belt loop. "Kek mattet! The best warrior amongst you against me. No weapons. Just hand-to-hand combat. Defeat me and I will submit to you and your snake of a god Apophis without further resistance. However," he smirked, flashing his eyes a brilliant gold, "if I win, my challenger's life is mine to do with as I please."
The ringing silence that answered his challenge was telling. He snickered. "What's the matter?" he taunted. "Does Apophis only keep cowards as his advance guard? Show yourself. Unless you wish to surrender before we even begin."
The angered grumbles of the hidden Jaffa were audible to Seto until, finally, one lone Jaffa stepped out from behind a fallen piece of debris. The Jaffa's dark eyes gleamed as he deliberately powered down his staff weapon and handed it to another Jaffa.
"I accept your challenge, hashak," the warrior boldly declared.
Seto hummed in approval, choosing to ignore the insult. Careful to keep his movements in full sight of the Jaffa, he removed his Millennium Rod from his belt loop and removed the kara kesh from his hand. He held them both out to be inspected before setting them down on a crumbled chunk of metal by the hallway wall. Then he removed his trench coat and the protective leather case that held his Deck and lay them by his discarded weapons and waited.
Satisfied, the Jaffa withdrew his holstered zat'nik'katel and boot knife. When he held out his arms as proof he held no more weapons, Seto nodded in approval. Then Seto smirked, hooking a finger at the Jaffa in a taunting command to approach.
Visibly fuming, the Jaffa sneered. "I demand to know the name of the hashak I am to defeat!" he barked.
"Fight me first," Seto countered arrogantly. "Win or lose, I'll tell you my name."
The Jaffa did not visibly approve of that offer. Nevertheless, he approached and settled into a fighting stance. He was well built, muscular, and clearly experienced in hand-to-hand combat. Strength alone would do Seto little good in this duel. Pity. Good thing Seto had spent thousands of years studying various forms of martial arts and building up his endurance. His skill, agility, and speed would be his greatest ally in this fight. The Jaffa's armor was a double-edged sword. It would make it harder for Seto to land powerful hits but it would also slow the warrior down.
"Begin!" the Jaffa commanded an instant before he swung at Seto's unprotected face.
The debris scattered across the corridor provided both obstacles to avoid and launch pads from which Seto could brace and pounce. He dodged the Jaffa's next attack with a swift side step, ducked another wild grab, and swooped underneath the Jaffa's outstretched arm. Just as he moved past the Jaffa's unprotected armpit, Seto pressed the fingers and thumb of his left hand together like a white crane's beak and jabbed the vulnerable spot.
Planting his left foot on the ground, he pivoted so he faced the Jaffa's back. He fisted his hands with the index knuckle raised just slightly above the others and struck. One jab at the Jaffa's shoulder joint, one near the Jaffa's left elbow joint, and a sharp kick at the back of the Jaffa's right knee cap. The warrior's metal weave shirt offered some protection from the effects of the jabs but the Jaffa still staggered.
Well, Seto had wondered how the jabs of his favored style of hand-to-hand combat would work against an armored Jaffa. The answer was they were indeed effective, but not as debilitating as Seto would have preferred. The metal weave of the Jaffa warrior's under-armor acted like chain-mail. It offered just enough protection to prevent a fully blocked chi path, but it obviously still hurt. A small smirk worked its way onto his face. Perhaps something with a bit more force was needed after all.
Spreading his feet and bending his knees slightly in a grounded stance, Seto raised both hands, fingers pressed together like a cobra's head. Over the years, Seto studied numerous forms of martial arts before settling on his personal style: a combination of snake and crane kung fu with a dash of Dim Mak against his more formidable opponents. Those styles focused on speed, agility, balance, and accuracy; all things Seto excelled at.
The Jaffa turned and executed a series of punches and attempted tackles. At first, Seto merely dodged, winding his arms and hands around the Jaffa's attacking arms like a snake coiling around its prey. Once Seto was certain his opponent was suitably furious, he grinned and began boldly attacking.
Seto blocked a punch with the flat back of his hand, wound his arm around the Jaffa's, advanced into the Jaffa's guard, and struck once with a stiff, flat, snake-like hand. Blood rushed from the screaming Jaffa's gouged eye socket but Seto didn't pause or gloat. He pressed his advantage. Another strike at the side of the Jaffa's vulnerable throat, this time with his fingers and thumb pressed into a crane's beak. Then another strike at a vulnerable joint, then another, then another, then another until he felt the Jaffa's muscles loosen and given in his hold. Stepping back, he allowed the warrior to slump to the floor in a screaming, bleeding mess.
"You asked me for my name," Seto said, allowing the distinctive echoing quality indicative of a Goa'uld to return to his voice as he knelt by the defeated Jaffa. "I am Nephthys and Earth is mine by hereditary right. You are trespassing."
Without waiting for a response, Seto formed the crane's beak with his hand once more and struck the defeated Jaffa in the throat shattering the warrior's hyoid bone. Leaving the Jaffa to suffocate at his feet, Seto stood and faced the other Jaffa.
"Kree Jaffa! I am the victor," he declared. "You," he pointed to the Jaffa still holding the dying warrior's staff weapon, "return to your snake Apophis and inform him he has trespassed on the territory of Nephthys. This planet is mine by hereditary right as decreed by Ra himself. If Apophis does not leave freely, then I will kill him with my own hands."
Probably not. The Asgard would no doubt take care of that for him. But it sounded impressive and it felt good to say.
The terrified Jaffa Seto singled out hesitated, obviously torn between obeying Seto's command to warn Apophis of Seto's presence and the desire to avenge his fallen comrade. After a moment, the Jaffa spat at Seto's feet in defiance before turning and racing away to warn his false god. Several other Jaffa turned to follow, only to skid to a stop when a wall of violet-veined darkness blocked their path.
"How many Jaffa does it take to send a message?" Seto wondered aloud, striding over to his discarded kara kesh and Millennium Rod.
One deep breath.
Pull the Shadows to him as both a personal shield and a catalyst. He replaced the kara kesh on his left hand, the silvery metal gleaming eerily in the Shadowy darkness.
Two deep breaths.
Feel the electricity sparking just beneath his skin, begging to be let loose. Standing once more, he lifted the Millennium Rod so the bladed top hovered level with the collar bone.
Three breaths.
Feel the dissonant discord between the positive and negative, the white and the black, the bright and shadow. Keep them separate. Keep them just close enough to be tantalizing but just far enough apart to be uncomfortable.
"One," Seto said, closing his eyes.
Deep in his mind, a dragon roared at the same time he breathed out a fourth time, whispering two, soft words in Japanese.
"White Lighting."
Incandescent white light blazed through the subterranean fortress in an instant of heat, light, sound, and power. Had Seto's eyes been open, he would likely have been momentarily blinded and disoriented. As it was, his ears were ringing so loudly everything else was muffled as if it was all filtered through a wall. He wobbled, his internal gyroscope thrown off by the incredibly loud sound and abrupt release of pent-up power.
Instinctively, he opened his eyes to aid in regaining his balance. He blinked and staggered. With nothing to reach out and brace against, he collapsed to one knee breathing hard. His hands reached up to gingerly cover his ringing ears. He would heal the damage in a few hours but damn it it hurt now. He couldn't hear anything over the ringing.
Focus. Breathe, calm down, relax, and use the Shadows. They wanted to be his eyes and ears. They could function as his senses while he recovered. Besides, he could feel the Shadowy wall drop away leaving him in the natural darkness of the subterranean base.
Until a flash of light and the tingle similar to transport Rings sang along his nerves. He had just enough time to gasp in surprise and stagger to his feet in an attempt to dodge befo-