Chapter 1: The Text
The bookkeeper was an old man. Old, and very cautious. He had seen a lot throughout the years, and he had learned that knowledge was both a great power and a great weakness. He also knew that his books held very powerful knowledge. As a bookkeeper, he had been entrusted with the safeguarding of this knowledge. Because of this, he took his job very seriously.
So, when five individuals that had tried but failed miserably, to hide military garb underneath peasant clothes, he was, well, less than forthcoming with the answers they requested.
"One more time," one of the two, light-brown haired men asked him with a very obscure accent, "we're told you've got a book about the Altarians. We just want to buy it. Isn't that what you do?"
"I do not sell books. I guard them for future generations of this planet to learn from!" The old man tried to hide the sweat forming on his brow. Certain bulges under the peasant tatters looked something like weapons – he didn't want to be shot. Then again, who did these days?
"Sir," the other brown-haired man, this one with glasses stepped forward, "we are, technically, 'future generations' – kind of. And we do want to learn from them – just as people from this planet would."
"Indeed," a dark man added from the corner. The bookkeeper wasn't sure, seeing as his forehead was covered, but he looked a bit like a Jaffa; he had scene pictures of them in his books. His large muscles were very intimidating. More sweat came.
The old man regarded them all suspiciously. He had no intention of sharing these books with these outsiders. Especially the one they asked for. That one was special.
It was a firsthand account from one of the Altarians – someone witnessed an ascension of an Altarian – a very wise and strong one. Even more importantly, the book had been added to about 200 years ago, when the same ascended being returned to this galaxy, on this plane of existence.
That knowledge was too valuable to be used for military purposed. He would not let it be soiled like that – never.
The blonde woman, who had been identified as "Sam" by one of her companions previously, spoke up.
"Please, it's very important that we see this. Have you heard of the Ori?"
The bookkeeper gulped. He had definitely read plenty about the Ori. The book of Origin was in his possession, as were several journals from that galaxy. Both the Ori and their devoted followers terrified him – much more than these soldiers ever could.
"Yes I have. Why do you speak of them?"
"They have invaded this galaxy. We have seen their power, and we have seen the destruction that they are capable of. We think that in this book we are requesting, there may be some information about the Altarians that could help use defeat them. So far, it seems that Ancient technology is the only thing that might defeat them."
"I know you have no reason to, but you need to trust us." the man with the glasses added, "We wouldn't use this knowledge for selfish reasons. But we do need it – it's our only hope."
The bookkeeper weighed the options. If what they were saying were true, then he would give them the book in an instant. But if it were false, then they would have, in their hands, the key to a very powerful force.
Then again, the being that the book refers to would not allow themselves to be easily taken over or used for, well, evil reasons.
The bookkeeper looked into the eyes behind the spectacles. There was something wise- something honest about them. He decided to take a chance.
"I will give you the book. But if you try to use the force described within it to gain power not meant to be yours, it will destroy you."
Back at SGC . . .
Vala whistled through the hallways of SGC, skipping happily to the Gateroom. Her Daniel was coming back today from some mission on some far-off primitive planet. She was ecstatic, elated, and all those other words that meant incredibly happy.
"Where, may I ask, are you going, Miss Mal Doran?"
Her heart sank into her gut, and she turned, plastering a toothy grin on her face, and faced General Landry.
"General! Care to escort me to the Gateroom." She linked arms with him, but he shrugged her off.
"You, if I remember correctly, are not supposed to be out of your quarters." He frowned slightly. "As a matter of fact, didn't I assign a guard to your room…"
"Oh, he got all tired out," she fibbed, and let the sexual innuendo hang in the air as the General shifted uncomfortable.
"Well, you're going right back there. You, officer!" he yelled to a passing soldier. "Escort Miss Mal Doran back to her room.
Vala decided to change tactics.
"But sir," she sniffed, tears running freely on command, "I just miss Daniel so much. I mean, I've been so lonely." She sniffled for effect, and continued. "There's no one to talk to, and a girl can only take so much sex before even that becomes boring…"
The soldier averted his eyes, becoming very interested with the floor, then the ceiling. General Landry looked at him curiously. Vala, stepping out of character for a second, winked at him, and then continued the waterworks.
"Offworld Activation," rang though the halls. The General sighed – he didn't have time for this.
"Fine," he surrendered, knowing when giving up was a tactical move, and continuing the battle was just stupid. "But stay off the ramp."
Vala grinned, and bounced happily towards the Gateroom.