Arkesh- name given to Daniel by the Watcher. Literal Terran translation: whore.

Arkesi- literal Terran translation: harem, the rank of whores.

Keltasch- literal Terran translation: champion; the rank of champions.

Kiere- name given to Jack by the Watcher; Literal Terran translation: deathdealer.

Shaitar- an organism whose physical form resembles liquid metal. The organism is introduced into the bloodstream of the keltasch, breaking down mental barriers and augmenting the violent tendencies held in check. Outside of the bloodstream it solidfies slightly to become an intelligent, malleable substance, that is used in many ways. There has been no successful method of removing the shaitar from an infected body.

Tolkar- literal Terran translation: Master. Form of address from arkesi to keltasch.

Yaeta- A yellow flower found exclusively on the Watcher's homeworld. The petals when ingested are mildly hallucenogenic. When distilled into an oil, the oil has caustic properties and is fatal when ingested. The pollen when dried is referred to spice. It is a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening the awareness of the user and giving said user increased stamina. It is also highly addictive. Withdrawal from the spice addiction can be fatal because of the violence of the reaction.

* Even though the Watcher is referred to in the masculine, I only did so because I am used to thinking in a two sexed connotation. The Watcher comes from a race of creatures that are completely asexual, having neither male, female or neutral genders.,br>

** In no way do I believe that Jack enjoyed killing. In fact he is well known for just the opposite. The Watcher is from a race that feeds on violence and fear. They are incapable of understanding the emotions of guilt or remorse nor are they capable of understanding the gentler emotions of love or caring. It only understands the acts not the ramifications of the acts that Jack has commited in the past.

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He* was pleased, more than pleased by the latest editions to his stable. It had been impulse that had led him to that tiny planet. And that impulse had resulted in the capture of these two. Although they bore some resemblance to creatures being used by others in the Arena, these were different. They were more primitive in some respects and more advanced in others. It was the primitive that he would be using, he was certain that it would be most profitable. There had been four on the planet but his preliminary scans had ruled one out because of physical frailty. The second had been most promising. That was until he had found the parasite inhabiting it. A deeper scan showed the parasite would prove impossible to control, and the host specimen couldn't survive with out it. It saddened him to leave that one behind.. it had the most delicious streak of violence in it. The third had been a fine physical specimen but hadn't had the quatilty necessary to become keltasch. It was the fourth** that had intrigued him the most. Held tightly in its mind had been thoughts of killing, ways and means to inflict pain and death. He had found memories in its mind that had sparked his hunger... memories of violence inflicted on the creature himself and of violence the creature had inflicted. Oh, yes, this one would do very nicely.

He had some concern upon the completion of his scanning, that he would not be able to control this one if he were to take it. The creature's mind and will were strong; his past experience showing that it would not succumb easily to the will of another. But then the creature had given him the means with which it could be tamed and controlled. Buried deep in the mind, he had found the key. The creature cared deeply about one of its companions. A caring that, while foreign to the Watcher, could be used to keep the creature in line. Make him into keltasch and keep him under control. So he had taken them both.

Erasing them from the minds of their companions had been simple. The removal of the physical traces of their existence had also been easy. He had departed the planet, bound for the Rim and his home. He was eager to begin this training session, eager to see if his suspicions were correct, that this would be the keltasch that would make his name among the other Watchers. It would take delicate handling to create this new keltasch and not make it into a mad monster. A challenge that he was looking forward to. If he had been honest with himself, something his race wasn't prone too, he was more than anticipating the feast these creatures would provide.

Upon reaching his home, he had transferred them into the appropriate areas. The keltasch went into a holding cell; the companion went in a punishment pod. He had learned in his years that those destined to be arkesi were sometimes the hardest to train. An error had left one in a punishment pod for a prolonged period of time, resulting in his new method of training them. That one had emerged after a stay of five days, thoroughly broken. A virtual clean slate to be molded in the form he thought best. That arkesi had served long and well until an overeager keltasch had ripped it in two. As he sealed the newest arkesi into the pod, he felt a spark of excitement flow through him, he couldn't wait to "hear" its panic. That was the best type of appetizer.

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//Jackjackjackpleasegodsomeonehelpme.footstepssomeonescoming.jack?jackisthatyou?whereareyoupleasehelpme….//

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With a jerk, he woke. His heart was pounding and he was shaking. He groaned and leaned his forehead against his upraised knees. God, he thought. What the hell is going on? The residue of his nightmare tore at his mind, and he scrubbed a hand roughly over his face, trying to shake it once and for all. But like most nightmares, this one remained stubbornly refusing to recede. The dregs of it made his heart pound but not in fear. He moaned softly as he classified the feeling it gave him. It was desire, dark, hot and heavy. Shit. With a thump his head hit the wall.

He closed his eyes unable to deny that the dream hadn’t in fact been a nightmare but had been the most erotic piece of fiction his mind had ever cooked up. It played out against his eyelids. And he moaned once again this time with thwarted passion. Part of his rational mind rebelled against the dream; but he didn’t care. One hand slipped down to cup his erection, teasing it through the heavy cotton of his pants. A softly sighed name echoed in the empty room. “Daniel.”

He was tired, weary from his labors of the day. He didn’t speak to those he passed, instead letting his silence speak for him. He paused outside the door to Daniel’s office; he could hear Daniel’s soft laugh from the other side, then the cadence of a sentence. There was someone with him; a spark of jealousy ignited in the center of his chest. Someone who made him laugh the way he had once long ago. Slowly, he placed his hand on the door to push it open. It swung silently to reveal Daniel standing with his back to Jack. His head was cocked, cradling the phone whose cord was slightly wound around Daniel’s hips. He was intent on his conversation and completely unaware that he was being observed. A shift in his stance pulled the cord tightly against his ass, causing the material of his pants to meld against the flesh hidden beneath. The sight took his breath away, the well muscled form clad in olive drab and one of those should-be-illegal-black tees that Daniel loved so much. The matching olive drab shirt was off, hanging loosely over the back of a chair.

Another chuckle had Jack gliding quietly further into the office. He didn’t know why, but he found himself fighting to keep from pulling the phone forcefully away from Daniel. Instead, he forced himself to listen to what he could hear of the conversation. Daniel was discussing plans for his two days off; he was going to be meeting with Paul Davis their Pentagon liaison officer, As Jack listened to the plans for dinner and a night at the symphony his jealousy flared and he couldn’t restrain himself any longer. Daniel was his, dammit, and it was about time he realized it. The growl started somewhere in his chest, increasing in ferocity until it erupted from his throat, causing Daniel to spin around. His blue eyes widened in astonishment when he saw Jack standing there. His eyes widened even further when Jack ripped the phone cord out of the wall, ending his talk with Paul.

“Ja-?” he started to question but Jack clamped a hand over his mouth cutting the words off. Without moving he kicked the door shut, blocking them from sight. One hand still on Daniel’s mouth, he used the other to twist the receiver out of Daniel’s stunned grip. He thumbed the cord connector out of the receiver and with a carefully aimed toss, knocked the video camera off it’s pedestal in the corner. Satisfied that there would be no interruptions, he pushed Daniel back up against the desk, entwining the phone cord around Daniel’s arms as he did so. The stunned and shocked archaeologist was slow to respond to the threat he was facing.

He was still growling, part of his mind recorded the fact with detachment, but the rest of it was occupied with the feel of Daniel’s lips as they moved soundlessly against the palm of his hand. The sensation only served to fuel his passion and he tightened his grip, the skin under his hand whitening. Daniel pushed back against Jack, but his shock had allowed Jack to put him off balance, and his push was without leverage, hampered by the phone cord still wound around his arms. His efforts were further hampered when Jack buried his free hand in the hair at the back of his head, pulling it harshly, bending his head back to bare his throat.

He dipped his head to the throat so exposed, barely brushing his nose over it. Daniel was sweating now, the salty tang spiced with something that Jack remembered. Fear. Daniel was afraid; for some reason the thought made him even harder and he ground himself against the body pinned against the desk. A tiny bead of sweat raced down Daniel’s throat toward the neck of the tee shirt. Keeping Daniel pinned, he captured it before it could reach its goal. The taste was enough to send him over the edge. Blood pounded in his veins, heavy with desire long denied. Lust warred with tenderness and tenderness lost.

Something in his eyes must have shown Daniel the imminent danger he was in because he began to fight Jack in earnest, managing to find a bit of leverage against the desk. A light rap on the temple stunned him enough that Jack was able to slice the tee shirt off him with his boot knife. He used the slight reprieve to bind Daniel’s arms behind him using the belt that Daniel wore. The now shredded tee became an impromptu gag, when the sounds of distress finally registered in Jack’s fevered mind.

The pants were taken care of just as quickly, falling into a heap on the floor. Another growl sounded at the sight of Daniel before him, naked and shaking slightly. The blue eyes were beginning to show awareness once again, their depths darkening with fear. With a stifled groan, he ran his hand over the exposed body. Feeling the satiny warmth of skin and the erotic play of muscle underneath. Daniel tried to flinch away, but couldn’t. He whimpered, but the sound was whisper soft against the gag. Bending his head, Jack again inhaled the scent of fear sweat. He traced the lines of muscle in Daniel’s chest with the flat of the boot knife; following the curve of ribs to the soft, yet rigid stomach. Daniel dressed looked like a skinny geek; Daniel undressed was something totally different. There were firm muscles hidden under those baggy clothes. Daniel tossed his head in a quick negative; but Jack’s growl stopped him.

The blood pounding through his body demanded release. The hot throb of his erection goaded him further. He couldn’t wait any longer; after all hadn’t he been waiting for three years? First the year while Daniel played house on Abydos with Sha’re; then the past two years of tormenting closeness as they worked together. He had been patient enough; it was time Daniel learned who his master was. After this, there would be no question left in his mind what the right answer would be.

He stepped back only far enough to flip Daniel around and force him down across the top of his desk. He pushed Daniel’s head firmly against the desk, earning another whimper from the stunned man. He roughly kicked Daniel’s feet out from under him, spreading his legs wide, pinning him in place with his own weight. The warmth of the naked skin almost sent him over the edge; it felt so good, and he slid a hand between them to push his own tee out of the way, too feel that skin against his own. With the same hand he undid his belt and pants, letting them slide as far out of the way as he could.

He hissed as his cock brushed against the bare fire of Daniel’s thigh. He could feel the fine hairs tickle against the over sensitive skin, urging him to more. He slapped his hand against the firm ass taunting him; Daniel jumped and a muffled scream made it’s way past the gag. The sound made Jack’s blood burn even more and with a groan he separated the globes of flesh baring the tender skin to the chill air and his eyes. The tight pucker mesmerized him; its pink ring taunting him with the hidden delight he knew it guarded. Daniel tightened against the heat of Jack’s gaze; he was beginning to struggle again, bucking and jerking against him in the attempts. Laying his arm heavily against the back of Daniel’s neck to keep him pinned once more, Jack took his heavy cock in hand. He was starting to ooze and with his thumb he smoothed it over the broad head.

He wasn’t thinking too clearly, the lust overwhelming his brain cells, but he knew that he would need some type of lubricant, otherwise he would never be able to put his full length into Daniel. A quick glance showed the ever present bottle of hand lotion that Daniel kept on the desk; the dust from the artifacts dried his hands horribly. Quickly, Jack smeared some of the cold stuff down his length, the hot blood warming the cold lotion. Ready at last he rubbed himself against the pucker, feeling the soft skin twitch in response. Daniel jerked and screamed against the gag. Jack cuffed him on the head negligently, more intent on getting himself into the heat that he knew was waiting.

The ring was too tight. Daniel’s fear having tightened it beyond the norm. With a smack of frustration Jack growled. A sharp warning to Daniel; “You move and I will kill you.” had Daniel freezing in place. Both hands free, he shoved his thumbs brutally into the pucker, pulling it open with a roughness that had Daniel jerking in pain.

The heat and silk of the opening on his thumbs made him groan, holding the tiny hole wide, he began to force his way into the clinging textures. It stretched slowly; he could feel the muscle rebelling, making it even more intense; the sounds of Daniel’s distress a wonderful counterpoint. Jack was big, thick and long. He had scared Sarah the first time she had seen him fully aroused; nine and a half inches was intimidating, even more so when it was a thick nine and a half. He moaned as the tip was swallowed by the tight pucker, he pulled his thumbs out of the way and almost came as it tightened obscenely against his tip. Unable to restrain himself, the need too great, his blood too hot, he grabbed Daniel by the hips and slammed his way into him.

Jack threw his head back hard against the wall, hoping to force this dream-memory back into the recesses of his mind. His cock throbbed with denied release; he would not give into this sick fantasy he had concocted. He loved and respected Daniel too much to allow this darker side of his passion any leeway; even if it was in dream only. A silent sob wracked his frame. The betrayal of his lust sickened him. Calling on reserves of will power that he seldom had to use, he pushed the fantasy back forcing his mind to fixate on the worry over his teammates. He chose to ignore the remembered cries of Daniel’s fear; the dream sense of his body; and above all he denied the fact that this perverted dream had him harder than he had ever been before.

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He hissed in frustration. The creature was proving more difficult than he had imagined. It was resisting all his best efforts to bend it to his will. While the fighting spirit was a requirement in the Arena, it was NOT something to be recommended for successful indoctrination. His tentacles flattened in irritation. To soothe his frustration he turned his attention to the punishment pod holding the other one. His scan showed that at least this one was responding in the preferred manner; the creatures vain attempts to cling to reason amused him. He listened for a bit, feeding on the terror that it fought so hard. Pleased and sated, he manipulated the creature, looping the terror back onto itself, and rippled in pleasure as the scream reached his auditory synapses. At this rate this one would be ready to assume its new life in just a few days. He thought about that for a few moments, it would not do to have one of the pair ready before the other… it would work best if they were ready at the same time… however as he thought a delicious idea came to him.

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//pleasepleasepleaseillbegoodipromisejustletmeoutjacksorrysosorrywhatdidido?pleaseiwontdoitagain…please…please…(whimper)//

Jack paced the floor afraid to fall asleep. By his estimation he had been held in the place for almost four days. Not that he was certain of that, the loss of his watch and lack of outside illumination made this only a guess. But from the number of meals sent and his body's own need for rest, he felt that it was a reasonable estimate. He still had no idea of the status of the rest of his team; he was in complete isolation and it was being to fray his nerves. For the first day he had allowed his mind to wander to the safe world of his fantasies…but with the beginning of the “nightmares”, as he chose to name them, he hadn’t felt safe in allowing that little indulgence. Yet that hadn’t helped, the nightmares had continued, escalating in both content and clarity. He was finding it most difficult to keep his thoughts from returning to those sick fantasies that his mind was cooking up. He wasn’t sure what disturbed him more, the idea that his mind could come up with these types of things, or the fact that he was beginning to enjoy them more with each passing moment.

“Get a grip, Jack.” He growled to himself. His pacing picked up and he continued to berate himself. He spared a moment’s thought that he might be observed but throwing a mental “bird” to his observers, continued. “Think about something else…anything else.” He searched his mind for any escape from the latest dream sent to plague him. He had only woken from this one when his body betrayed its excitement by coming explosively. Even now, he shivered at the remembered release. “Shit.”

Sounds from behind him made him spin, dropping by instinct into a defensive crouch. To his astonishment, a creature stood there. It was about three feet in height, slender and a sickly orange-ish hue. It appeared to be covered in hair with no eyes or ears that he could see. It actually reminded him of Cousin IT from the Addam’s Family movies that he had seen years before; only this one was missing the bowler hat.

“Hello.” He spoke cautiously. There was no response but he didn’t relax. As difficult as it was for him to feel threatened by this creature, he knew that more than likely it had been responsible for his incarceration and whatever had happened to his team. Frankly in his current state of mind he really wasn’t interested in communicating with whatever this thing might be. He was more interested in getting the hell out of this room, finding his team and getting home.



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