Chapter Twelve
Combat Information Centre
TFS Victorious, That Same Time
Standing before the main holographic situation table in the centre of CIC Rear Admiral Kristen Mabuto resisted the impulse to shake her head as she gazed upon the spreading cloud of cooling plasma, dust and torn metal that was all that remained of the alien warships. She didn't really understand what the alien commander had hoped to accomplish by firing at them they way he had, he had to have known he was massively outgunned and would be utterly annihilated by the return fire.
For a moment she thought about the briefing she'd read on the known character of the aliens. There belief in they're own divinity and the religious fundamentalism there followers seemed to have would go someway to explaining the alien commanders actions. From the point of view of a fanatic nothing was more preferable or desirable that to die while striking at the enemy. Doing so was the sure way to achieve martyrdom in there eyes. I hate dealing with fanatics, she thought, especially when they give me no choice but to either kill them with my own hands, order others to kill them or have there ships burnt from the stars. It always feels like they've won somehow when they make me do that or give such orders.
"Admiral we're receiving messages from the other ships," one of the communications reported bringing her out of her unpleasant thoughts on the unpleasant nature of fanatics, "there requesting instructions."
"Understood," Kristen replied looking at the officer. "Order all ships to stand down from battle stations and go to yellow alert. Have them spread out and begin sweeping the area for any sign of surviving alien forces, if they find any they are to report it immediately."
"Aye ma'am," the officer replied.
"Sensors scan the sentry station I want to know there status."
"Aye ma'am," one of the officers manning the sensors reported, hands dancing over her console as she instructed the computer to turn the powerful main sensor arrays of the Pandora-class heavy carrier on the damaged sentry station.
"Admiral," another officer reported from one of the secondary sensor stations. "We're detecting a small craft in a very low orbit of the gas giant. It's composed of the same materials as what made up the hulls of the alien capital ships. From the size I believe it to be a fighter."
Kristen raised an eyebrow as she turned in place to look at the officer in question. "Show me," she instructed before turning her attention back to the holographic display. The display shimmered for a moment then changed from the view of the spreading debris plumes to a closer view of the gas giant.
There silhouetted against the turbulent white, ochre and brown clouds of the planet was an alien fighter craft. To Kristen's eyes it was a bizarre design with an oval shaped main body from which two bat-like wings emerged before curving a little towards the front of the craft. Two stubby weapons emerged from the hull on either side of the central hull and from what she could see on the display they didn't look to be turreted like the under wing fusion blasters were on a Jaguar-class fighter.
"The enemy fighter appears to be adrift," the officer who'd initially alerted her to the fighter's presence continued as she examined the display, "there is extensive laser damage to its rear section and its main power source appears to be offline. However there is some emergency power present and the cockpit module still has atmosphere – one life sign aboard."
"Is the fighter in tractor beam range?"
"It is ma'am."
"Excellent. Tactical grab that ship in a tractor beam and bring it into the upper port side hanger deck, have a marine unit waiting for it. Have them wear full combat armour as opposed to light battle uniform there has been enough death here today – I don't want anymore, as for the alien pilot detain him and convey him to the brig, command will send someone to interrogate him later."
"Aye ma'am."
"Admiral the scans of the sentry station have been completed."
"What's there status?" Kristen asked as the display changed again to show the sentry stations. Even a cursory glance confirmed that the station was badly damaged – a significant number of the complex projections and domes that covered the surface of the asteroid had been destroyed – reduced to blackened stumps or missing altogether. New craters had been blown into the thick trinium-reinforced nickel iron exterior of the station and small globules of flash frozen rock and trinium – that had once been part of the station – slowly moved away from the asteroid, propelled by the inertia imparted when alien plasma weapons fire had blown them away from the main body of the repurposed space rock.
"The station has sustained massive damage," the reporting officer said his voice sombre as he knew that a great many of there fellow guardsman and women would be dead or seriously wounded aboard the station. "Roughly thirty percent of external structures have been sheered off or blown away. Collateral damage in all outer compartments. The main antimatter reactor appears to have scrammed, the station is functioning on fusion generators only and there output is dropping by point zero, zero six of a percent every minute.
"The stations orbital control systems also appear to be damaged, its orbit is slowly decaying. Computer estimates that at its current rate of orbital degeneration the station will enter the upper atmosphere of the gas giant within twelve hours."
"Anyone still alive over there?"
"We are picking up life signs on the station, ma'am. However there is too much radiation from the star and the battle flying around to be able to tell what state they're in."
"Are any of the external docking ports still intact?"
"Yes ma'am. Two of the lower docking ports near the engineering areas at the base of the station are intact."
"Then we have a chance to save the people on board. Communications instruct the destroyers Orinoco and Rubicon to move in and dock with the station. There orders are to commence search and rescue operations, once they've got the survivors off retrieve the bodies of the dead and the stations logs."
"Aye ma'am."
As the CIC personnel moved to carry out the tasks that she'd just assigned them Kirsten turned her attention back to the hologram of the station. Given the assault it had to have endured from the aliens it was amazing that it was as intact as it was and she could think of only one reason for that. The aliens hadn't wanted to destroy the station; instead they'd wanted to capture it presumably to get at its databanks. High Command and SOID are right, she thought, the aliens are looking for us. They were stopped this time but what about next time? We may have blasted the warships to space dust this time but what about next time. There looking for us, it's only a matter of time before we encounter each other again and next time they might strike at a colony and not a military outpost. If that happens the civilian casualties could be… horrific especially as these aliens have already shown that they have no interest in diplomacy or the rules of war when they killed Ambassador Trainer and destroyed Crystal Dove. Who's to say they wouldn't resort to blasting a planet from space prior to an invasion?
Kristen shivered at the thought of the aliens attacking a civilian world. Such a horror could not be allowed to occur – not again. The Federal Guard had failed in its duty to prevent that during the A.I War and hundreds of millions had died when four worlds had been burnt to glass by the machines. The possibility that it could happen again, at the hands of aliens with delusions of godhood this time instead of sentient robots, was horrifying. No we won't let it happen, not again, she thought, and if stopping it means going to war with whoever these aliens are then so be it.
Pushing aside the thoughts of the potential war with the aliens – a war that was looking increasingly likely to erupt as the unprovoked attack on the sentry station would enrage the senate – she forced herself to focus on there here and now. And on the plight of the survivors of the attack, stuck on a station that was on a trajectory that would soon bring about its destruction. Hang on people we'll get you out of there, she thought, then once SOID's stealth cruisers find wherever the aliens came from we'll make them pay for what they've done here today.
Crippled Goa'uld Glider
A Few Minutes Earlier
From his position in the cockpit of his crippled craft Va'tan had had a commanding view of the brief battle between the Ha'tak's, Lord Boreas' Shal'kra and the Terran warships that had arrived in response to the attack on the station. It hadn't really been a battle but a one sided slaughter. The display of firepower that the Terrans had put out in retaliation for being fired at had been both absolutely awe inspiring and terrifying. He'd seen alpha strikes before – most Jaffa who served on motherships as pilots or crew saw them at some point as the false gods incessantly warred with one another – but nothing he'd seen had prepared him for that display of raw destructive power. Power that had swatted three top-of-the-line Goa'uld warships from the sky as if they'd been mere toys.
Seeing the three ships explode filled him not with rage as he would have expected, instead it only brought a profound sense of sorrow. Not for Lord Boreas – his death was justice for all those he'd harmed since he'd first taken a host – but for those brothers who'd joined him in embracing oblivion. Though most of his fellow Jaffa onboard those ships had been blind and mindlessly loyal to the Goa'uld, believing the lie of Goa'uld divinity they'd still been his brothers. Brothers whose loss he mourned.
Closing his eyes he began to slowly utter a prayer of mourning, a prayer that would speed the souls of his brothers and the innocent human slaves who'd died with them onto the next world. A world where they would not know the slavery or cruelty of the Goa'uld but where they would be free for all eternity. He had no such prayer for Boreas; instead he hoped that the Fleet Lords soul – if he even had one – spent the rest of eternity in torment. It wouldn't really address all the evils his foul kind had perpetrated over the last few millennia but it would be a start.
Abruptly the Gilder shook as though something had struck it, the violent jolt making Va'tan snap his eyes open as the words of the prayer died on his lips. A strange humming sound filled the cockpit and for a moment he thought his crippled engines had somehow, miraculously started up again until he realised that the sound had completely the wrong pitch and there was no vibration to indicate that the Glider was under power. A quick glance out the cockpit canopy however showed that despite being unpowered the Glider was moving. Something else, some powerful but invisible force had grabbed his craft and was pulling it out of the orbit it had been stuck in by the gravity well, up away from the planet and towards the largest of the Terran warships.
A check of his few functional sensors revealed the answer to what was pulling his craft – the Glider had been enveloped by some sort of gravitational/magnetic force beam being projected by the massive warship. The pull of the beam was extremely powerful and Va'tan didn't doubt that he wouldn't have been able to break free of it even if the Gliders engine had been working, the grip of the magnetic and gravitic forces on the small attack craft was just to strong, to attempt to break away from the beam would have been futile and only led to extreme sheering forces tearing the Gilder – and himself – apart.
As the Glider was pulled closer and closer to the warship Va'tan realised that he didn't really want to die, not now that an opportunity to help his people had been dropped in his lap. There was no denying the fact that the Terrans were an advanced species and wielded considerable technological and military power. Maybe with a little bit of luck and with a great deal of patience he might be able to convince them to help the Jaffa to throw off the yolk of the Goa'uld which would only benefit them. It would take time, he knew that but he hoped he would be able to pull it off – assuming of course he survived the interrogation he was bound to be subjected to.
Looking resolutely through the canopy he noticed that he was now very close to the great warship. So close that it seemed to completely fill space ahead of him – instead of stars all he saw was a wall of dull brownish-grey armour, lines of light marking some of the ships central decks and weapons emplacements. Abruptly a line of light appeared on a large section of the hull directly ahead of him, the line widened as the doors of a hanger bay opened.
Another jolt ran through the Glider prompting him to glance at the sensor display again. The gravitational/magnetic force beam that had his craft in its irresistible power had changed angle and now seemed to be coming from inside the opened hanger bay doors as opposed to a point on the ships hull. He looked back up from the sensor display just as the Glider reached the hanger bay doors and a brilliant purple tinged flash momentarily filled the cockpit as it passed through an atmospheric containment field.
Blinking rapidly to clear the after image from his eyes Va'tan kept his gaze focused out the windows as his crippled craft travelled down a metal tunnel whose only features were bright strips of light and doors that looked like they could close. The HUD fitted over his right eye confirmed that behind him previously opened doors were closing – clearly the hanger bays on this class of Terran warship was heavily protected by armoured bulkhead doors. It made sense as like most Jaffa who served on ships he was well aware that the hanger bays were weaknesses in a starships design – ones that could be exploited to cause severe damage from fires and secondary explosions if you hit them. Adding additional layers of protection prevented someone from exploiting that weakness.
After what seemed like an eternity – but was probably only a few seconds at most – the tunnel gave way to a cavernous internal space. The deck was huge, if he had to guess Va'tan would have said that the deck ran near continuously down a large part of the ships length. It certainly seemed to transcend a number of decks as platforms and balconies ascended for two decks above his head and another two below him. Many of the pedestals had craft sitting on them, some of which were clearly fighters – they were sleek delta-winged craft with weapons slung on turret mounts near the underside edges of their wings and another weapon recessed into the nose. Now that he thought about it Va'tan could remember seeing a few of them flying by outside – maintaining a patrol around the Terran fleet – though those had had something else slung under there wings as well, some kind of pods. Though what purpose the pods served and why the docked ones didn't have them he had absolutely no idea.
He didn't have much chance to think about it as he became aware that the Glider was descending, towards one of the unoccupied platforms. Even from here Va'tan could see the welcoming committee of Terran soldiers waiting to greet him – several stood at one end of the platform while a dozen more stood on the balcony on either side. All of them were dressed in armour and all were armed, most appeared to be carrying the powerful plasma rifles he'd heard about from those Jaffa that had survived combat with the Terrans on the surface of Sakana. But a few – mostly those on the balconies – were armed with larger weapons, weapons that were pointed right at his Glider. Va'tan didn't want to think about what they could be and how easily they could probably destroy his crippled craft.
The Glider was set down with a jolt and the sensor suite gave a small chime alerting Va'tan that the force beam had disengaged but that a force field dome had now been activated around the platform – a force field that would no doubt have prevented him taking off even if he had engine power. With no other options open to him beyond possibly activating the Glider's self destruct charge – something he didn't want to do as he could hardly make allies of the Terrans if he got blew himself and them to space dust – Va'tan powered down those few systems that still had some power, before pressing the control that made the cockpit canopy retract into the main fuselage.
Cautiously, nervously as he had no idea what to expect from the powerful Terrans, he stood up and raised his hands above his head in the universal gesture for surrender. He kept his eyes focused on the armoured soldiers as they came forward keeping the blank muzzles of there weapons focused on his torso.
One of the Terrans spoke and the voice while filtered by the helmet of its armour was distinctly male though Va'tan didn't understand the words as they naturally weren't in any dialect of Goa'uld or any other language that he was familiar with. Fortunately the armoured human used the muzzle of his weapon to indicate that he wanted him to get out of the Glider. Cautiously to appear non-aggressive Va'tan did as he was bid and as his boots touched the metallic alloy deck of the landing platform the Terran spoke again – this time using a hand to indicate that he wanted Va'tan to turn and lean against the side of the Glider.
Confused but knowing he was hardly in a position to ask questions - even if the Terrans had been able to understand Goa'uld – Va'tan again did as he was instructed. He turned and pressed himself against the side of his crippled craft and immediately heard the rhythmic pounding of booted feet on metal as the Terrans approached him. After a moment he felt a hand grab his left arm and pull it behind the small of his back before feeling something metallic slip around the wrist of that arm, his other arm was subjected to the same treatment almost immediately. Then he felt his zat'nik'atel and knife be taken from him before three objects were placed against his skin – one against the bare skin at the nape of his neck, the other two behind his ears.
"You should be able to understand me now," the Terran said and this time Va'tan clearly heard Goa'uld words.
"Yes," he confirmed.
"Good. Stand up straight and turn to face me." Va'tan did as he was instructed and watched as the Terran helmet retracted down into the collar of his armour revealing a square jawed human face with very light brown skin, vivid green eyes and short cropped black hair.
"As of this moment you are now a prisoner of the Terran Federation," the alien said. "You will be confined in a holding cell aboard this vessel until such time as you can be transferred to appropriate authorities. If you don't resist you will be treated well and afforded considerable privileges, resist and you will still be treated fairly however things will get more unpleasant do you understand?"
"I understand," Va'tan replied, "I won't resist."
"Good for you," the Terran answered before gesturing with his rifle, "move."
Va'tan nodded and began moving in the direction the soldier had indicated, moving off the platform onto the balcony. As he did so most of the soldiers who'd met him fell into formation before and around him, ensuring he wouldn't be able to escape even if he had the intention of doing so. For a moment he was offended that they would question his honour as a warrior, he had given his word that he wouldn't try resist them – which included trying to escape. But then the rage subsided to be replaced with a sense of shame, in all there encounters with the Terrans the Jaffa had not really given the previously unknown but very technologically advanced humans any sense that they had a sense of honour.
Instead he wouldn't be surprised if the Terrans thought of the Jaffa as violent savages who'd attacked them without any warning and with no provocation. Everything he'd heard from fellow Jaffa told him that the Terrans had actually tried to talk to them when they'd met the first patrol on Sakana – only to be promptly fired at as new enemies of Lord Poseidon. No wonder they don't trust me. That's something I'm going to have to change, he thought, when they interrogate me I'll have to tell them the truth of the Jaffa and make them understand that we are as much slaves to the Goa'uld as the uncounted numbers of humans spread out across this galaxy.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed when they came to a door and turned off the balcony. If one of the Terrans hadn't tapped him in the back with his/her rifle he certainly would have just kept on walking straight ahead.
"This way," the human said in a voice that was clearly female.
"My apologies," Va'tan replied as he turned in the direction he was bid and continued following the Terrans as they passed through some thick armoured doors and into the rest of the warship and his inevitable captivity.
TFSC Cheyenne
That Same Time
Commander Alan Lorne frowned thoughtfully as he studied the analysis of the latest long range scans on the holographic screen floating a few feet in front of his face. For the last week the Cheyenne and three other stealth cruisers Yupik, Kaska and Sekani had been carefully sweeping space beyond the claimed borders of the Terran Federation, searching for any sign of the aliens that had in the last month been responsible for thousands of Terran deaths amongst them civilian scientists and an ambassador.
Unfortunately there had been no sign of them or anything else that would indicate a high technology civilisation capable of interstellar travel. No subspace transmissions, no ships in hyperspace nothing beyond the normal background noise of space. The only thing there sensors were picking up were odd disturbances in subspace – disturbances that lasted anywhere from one or two minutes to thirty eight minutes but no more. The disturbances were very regular with the distinctive phase displacement trail of a wormhole but without any of the normal quantum or radiation flux readings that indicated a wormhole tunnel was present in that part of the multidimensional ether that was subspace. The disturbances also matched the phase displacement signature of the phenomenon that the Railion's sensors had recorded on the surface of the planet where they'd first encountered the aliens, the signature that had come from an unknown object that the aliens had somehow used to send additional troops to the planet without needing to use a ship. Whatever it was the technology was one hell of a tactical advantage and one the Federal Guard would have to learn to understand if they wanted to combat it, especially given how close to war they were with the aliens.
Studying the analysis of the phenomenon floating in front of him Alan's frown deepened as he tried to figure out exactly what he was looking at. From Commander Larsen's report he knew it had to be somekind of mass transport system that wasn't dependent on costly starships to work but how exactly did it work? Though he was no scientist Alan was an intelligent man and he was stumped by what he was seeing. He wasn't the only one as he knew his science officers were as well as were the science officers on the other three stealth cruisers – according to his last conference with the other commanders the scientists were practically pulling there hair out trying to figure it out. Maybe they'll know something when we meet up again in two days, he thought as to cover more ground the four Phantom-class cruisers had split up and moved to different sectors to do there scans, they met up every few days to share information and determine the next region to scan, if not we'll just send these readings to command and let them take a look at it.
The sudden bleeping and vibration of the comm. around his right wrist drew his attention away from the conundrum on the holographic screen. Now what, he thought as he raised the offending device and answered the hail.
"Yes?"
"Sorry to disturb you sir but our long range sensors have picked up a ship in hyperspace approaching our location," his first officer Colonel Adrian Preston reported from his location on the bridge.
Alan frowned. "Can you identify it," he asked.
"Yes sir, the phase variance matches that of the alien vessels. However the ship is much smaller than any alien hyperspace capable craft we've seen before – it's close in size of the Nautilus-class scouts that are sometimes attached to exploration ships and battle groups."
Alan smiled slightly. If he was right then the craft they were picking up was certainly an alien scoutship – such craft were lightly armed, if armed at all, and very lightly shielded. Scoutships depended on stealth to escape detection and speed to get away if they were detected. One coming here to this system presented them with an opportunity to gather more information about there enemy, information that would be very valuable if war did indeed erupt with the aliens.
"How long until the scoutship arrives," he asked keeping his voice calm so none of his inner excitement showed.
"We estimate there ETA at six minutes sir," Adrian answered a hint of excitement beginning to show as he realised what his commanding officer was planning to do. "Based on the hyperspace vector of the craft they'll return to normal space near the orbit of the forth planet."
"Excellent. Call all personnel to battle stations. Engage our stealth systems and plot a course to intercept the alien ship, we're going to capture them when they arrive," Alan ordered. "Have our Black Falcon unit stand by to board and secure the alien craft as soon as she's captured. I'll be on the bridge shortly."
"Aye sir," Adrian replied before singing off. Alan lowered his wristcomm before saving and closing the file he'd been reading, making the holographic screen vanish as if it had never been present at all. Then he carefully stood up and moved around his desk even as alarms began to sound throughout the eight hundred and twenty metre length of the Cheyenne. The atonal wail of the battle stations klaxon sending the cruisers seven hundred and fifty crewmembers out of there bunks, from the mess hall and recreation decks scrambling to get to their battle stations. Picking up his uniform jacket from where he'd left it on the back of a chair; Alan slipped it on before leaving his quarters – joining the organised chaos of the crew preparing the ship for battle.
Had anyone been watching the Cheyenne at that moment they would have seen the space around the long, slender delta-shaped hull of the Phantom-class ship ripple with an optical distortion wave. Then the cruiser – already hard to spot against the blackness of space due to its dark coloured hull – vanished from both the naked eye and all known scanners as the cruisers sophisticated cloaking mechanism engaged.
Silent and as invisible as the mythical apparition that her class had been named after the Cheyenne began to move in system, on an intercept course with the projected hyperspace emergence point of the alien scoutship – a scoutship that the crew would hope wouldn't know they were there.
Not until it was to late.
Tok'ra Tel'tac
A Few Minutes Later
Sitting in the pilot's seat of the modified Tel'tac Anise smiled slightly as she observed that they were coming up upon there next set of destination coordinates. She and Selmak had been searching for the mysterious new humans who'd clashed with Poseidon's forces over Sakana for just over a fortnight now. So far they had found nothing, no sign of whoever the newcomers were – though Anise privately clung to the belief that they were likely the modern, technologically advanced people of the first world, a world lost to the Goa'uld and Tok'ra for so long that its very name had become a legend.
A world that if her hypothesis was right would be located somewhere in the sectors they were now entering. Sectors that had once been ruled by Ra but which had been abandoned by Goa'uld and Tok'ra alike for thousands of years; which was more than enough time for a human world to make the transition from primitive agrarian to possessing highly advanced technology capable of interstellar travel.
"Do you really think we'll find anything this time, Anise?" Kaira asked the symbiote that had shared her body for the last two years.
"I don't know, Kaira," Anise answered her host honestly, "but we are coming into sectors of space that no Goa'uld or Tok'ra have entered in eight millennia. If I am right and these new humans are Tau'ri then there worlds would likely be located in this area. Its hard to be sure as records from that era are poor at best."
"Especially as the System Lords suppressed information about the Tau'ri after the revolt drove them away," Kaira agreed as they'd talked about the history of the Tau'ri revolt and its affects on the galaxy quite a lot over recent weeks. "The last thing they would want would be for news of it to spread across the galaxy and possibly encourage other enslaved worlds to rise up against the 'gods'"
"Precisely, hence why the records were largely wiped by Ra himself."
A crystalline sounding chirp from the control console but a stop to Anise discussion with her host and made her turn her full attention back to the control orb she was holding. The sound of footsteps approaching, then the sound of someone sitting down in the co-pilots chair informed her that Selmak had joined her.
"We're coming up on our destination coordinates," Anise said calmly as she prepared to drop the Tel'tac back into normal space and power down the hyperdrive so they could transfer additional energy to sensors.
Selmak nodded as he prepared to sensors and initiate the power shunt from hyperdrive to scanners. "Sensors are ready."
"Dropping out of hyperspace, now," Anise commented as she gave the command to the console. Outside the front view ports the normal purple-blue tunnel produced by a Goa'uld-style hyperdrive flashed and vanished to be replaced by the star sprinkled darkness of normal space. For a moment the stars were nothing but a blur of colour as hyperspace inertia carried the ship forward at tremendous sublight speeds, though after a moment the blur resolved as the sublight engines automatically slowed the ship down to a safe normal space transit speed.
"Normal space reversion complete. Powering down hyperdrives and transferring energy to sensors."
"Beginning preliminary scans," Selmak added as his console reported that additional power was now flowing into the sensor systems increasing both range and scan resolution prompting him to give the command to start the familiar routine of sensor sweeps. "We should have preliminary results in approximately two minutes."
"Think we will find anything this time," Anise asked mirroring the question Kaira had already asked her.
"I don't know but I hope so," Selmak replied. "This search is getting somewhat tedious. It's easy to forget just how vast space actually is unless you're looking for one specific thing."
Anise nodded in agreement and was about to reply when the short range sensors came to life, screaming an urgent warning. Simultaneously the holographic HUD blinked into existence above the control consoles revealing a distortion field directly ahead and a few degree's above the Tel'tac's central axis. A distortion field that rapidly revealed its nature as a cloaking field as it shimmered away, revealing a large, menacingly black ship floating in space directly ahead of them.
"Who are they," Anise wondered.
"I don't know," Selmak replied checking the sensors. "However the energy signature matches the energy signatures we observed from the ships over Sakana."
"We've found them or should I say they've found us," Anise commented a moment before the sensors screamed again – a moment before a point on the unknown warships hull flashed and a brilliant yellow-orange bolt of energy shot towards them – skimming past the hull by a scant few metres, close enough for the energy wake of the bolt to rattle the Tel'tac but not hard enough to cause any damage.
"That missed our hull by less than five metres," Anise said as she checked the proximity sensors. "If it had hit use full on we would have not withstood the blast."
"A not very subtle warning shot," Selmak answered knowingly as the pilots console chirped again.
"Incoming message," Anise reported before pressing a command on the console to put the message through while piping it through the translation systems as well. A moment later the hidden speakers crackled and a powerful, male human voice spoke.
"Alien vessel this is Commander Alan Lorne, commanding officer of the Terran Federation stealth cruiser Cheyenne," he said, "your ship is at our mercy. On the authority of the Federal Guard you are directed to stand down and prepare to be boarded. You will comply with this order or be destroyed."
"Open a channel with him," Selmak ordered and Anise nodded, making the HUD change to show the face and upper torso of a human male with brown hair and eyes and possessing a powerful, muscular build that his black and grey uniform did little to hide.
"Commander Lorne I am Councillor Selmak of the Tok'ra," Selmak said in greeting, "there is no need to threaten us; we will comply with your request to allow boarding."
The Terran officer raised an eyebrow. "Just like that," he asked seemingly taken aback, "you certainly seem different from the last of your kind we encountered."
Selmak smiled slightly. "That is because I am not a Goa'uld like 'Lady' Amphitrite," he explained. "Both myself and my companion, Anise, have no desire to be worshipped or treated like a god in anyway. In fact we've been trying to find you ever since your peoples encounter with Poseidon's forces at Sakana."
"I see," Lorne replied. "Why have you been trying to find us?"
Selmak paused to consider how to answer for a moment. When this mission had been ordered by the Tok'ra High Council it had been intended purely as an intelligence gathering operation to find out who the newcomers who'd so decisively pounded Poseidon's space forces at Sakana were and if they were right in that they were descendants of the long lost Tau'ri. They had not really meant for contact to be made with them – with the Terrans as the Tau'ri possibly called themselves no – at this current time.
However it appeared fate, the universe or some random ascended being had decided that they were going to meet now. There was no choice after all, it was either try to make diplomatic contact with the Terrans or be taken as prisoners. Escape certainly wasn't an option as Selmak didn't doubt that Commander Lorne would carry out his treat to blast the Tel'tac out of the sky if they tried to run.
After a moment thinking about what to say he decided he might as well tell the human the truth. "Initially the High Council of the Tok'ra was curious about you," he admitted, "the ease with which your ships defeated both 'Lady' Amphitrite and 'Lord' Deimos and your use of non-standard technology piqued our interest."
"And now?"
"Now I believe it important that we speak," Selmak replied, "while your people do seem to be technologically considerably more advanced than most human groups in this galaxy you have made a very dangerous enemy in the Goa'uld System Lords. My and my companion can provide you with considerable tactical, strategic and cultural information on them and the state of the galaxy in general."
"What's the catch?"
"No catch, all we ask in return for providing this information is your friendship."
On the communications screen Commander Lorne frowned thoughtfully and Selmak could tell that the human commander was trying to decide if he could trust them or not. Selmak wouldn't blame him if he decided not to trust them and take them prisoner; they'd already been informed by encrypted subspace communication with Tok'ra operatives in Poseidon's court that the Terrans had tried to talk diplomatically with Amphitrite. Only for Amphitrite to destroy the ambassador's ship, killing everyone on board in cold blood when they'd refused to bow down to her authority as a living goddess. Given the fact that Tok'ra and Goa'uld were the same race – though neither really liked to admit it – he wouldn't be surprised if they ended up being taken as prisoners and transported to the Terran homeworld for interrogation.
After a couple of tense moments of silence the Terran seemed to make up his mind. "Very well," Lorne said at last. "We accept your offer. We will bring you aboard this ship and you will be treated as our honoured guests. However if you attempt to cross us or betray us in anyway…" he let his voice trail off the silent threat hanging ominously in the air.
Selmak nodded. "We understand, commander," he said, "thank you for trusting me."
"Just make sure I don't regret it," the Terran replied before breaking the communications link between there ships from his side. The holographic HUD returned just as the Tel'tac gave a sudden jerk.
"The Terran ship has just locked a tractor beam on us," Anise reported.
"Shut down the engines," Selmak instructed her. "Let the Terrans take us aboard."
Anise nodded and disengaged the sublight engines which immediately resulted in the Tel'tac beginning to be pulled towards the Terran stealth cruiser. As the power to the engines died she looked over at Selmak.
"Are you sure this is the right thing to do, Selmak?" she asked in concern. "The High Council was quite clear that they didn't want to make contact with the Terrans yet."
"I know and if there was any other way I wouldn't have made the offer I did," Selmak replied. "Unfortunately there is no other option, it was either resort to formal diplomatic contact or be taken prisoner. Trying to escape was certainly not an option, the Terran ship would have easily been able to destroy us long before we could cloak or escape into hyperspace.
"And this way we have the possibility of making an alliance with the Terrans or at least come to an understanding with them while providing them with information on the nature of the Goa'uld. Information that they are going to need if they are going to survive," he concluded.
Anise nodded. "I understand and I agree. As I said during the High Council meeting the Terrans are obviously a very powerful race with formidable military capabilities," she replied. "Making an alliance with them, or at least laying the foundation for one can only be a good thing for the Tok'ra. I just hope the High Council agrees with you when we see them again."
"So do I Anise, so do I."