Harm stared at the pile of rubble cutting him off from his father and the
woman he loved. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen both of them
shoved clear of the falling debris by the force of the explosion, but he
was acutely aware that that did not mean nothing bad had happened to them.
He climbed to his feet, swaying slightly. He put his hand to his temple, and it came away bloody. He allowed himself a small groan. Another concussion was the last thing he needed.
Then he heard a sound behind him, and corrected himself. A Jaffa with a staff weapon pointed at him ready to fire was the last thing he needed.
He turned round slowly, his arms held out from his sides to show that he wasn't holding anything. There were five Jaffa, standing in a V formation with the point towards him. All of them were aiming their staff weapons at him, the tips crackling with the yellow energy that all to easily could soon be hurtling towards him in a ball of light. And even Jaffa couldn't miss at that range.
The Jaffa at the point of the V spoke to him.
"You are at our mercy, Tau'ri. You will be imprisoned until our Lord and Master arrives to view you for himself. I will take great pleasure in participating in your interrogation."
Harm, never one to particularly enjoy the experience of being tortured, was disinclined to surrender. He spat at the Jaffa's feet, and grinned. "Temetfutue, serve."
Had there been other people present, none of them would have been more surprised than Harm when the Jaffa all bowed their heads and dropped their weapons.
Mac was on the move. Well aware of the fact that she was the nearest to their pursuers, she backtracked along the corridor, hoping to find another turning to escape down rather than be cornered. However, she could not move far before she encountered another blockage in the corridor, where another of the localised charges had detonated. She was stuck.
Harm Sr found himself in a similar situation, cut off in both directions without an escape route. But he had been more fortunate than Mac. A flying shard of gold, formerly part of the wall, had rebounded off the ceiling, revealing some sort of hidden panel in the ceiling, not too far from the wall. Seeing no real alternative, Harm Sr ran his fingers over the wall beneath the opening. The glyphs on the wall did not jut out much, but he'd be able to get a grip with his fingers and the toes of the boots he had chosen to fly in that day. How he would manoeuvre himself through the gap when he got that high was an interesting question, but one which he chose to ignore for the time being.
Harm stared at the Jaffa in front of him.
"What are you doing?"
They all raised their heads. The one at the front raised his hand to the black tattoo on his forehead. It was the shape of a goat; the symbol of Pan's Jaffa.
"You have set us free."
"What?!" Harm had to admit, it was a weird form of manumission.
"It is written."
"What is written?"
"The Prophecy of the Liberator!"
"I still have no idea what you're talking about." Though 'The Liberator' had a nice ring to it.
"'He shall come among you, a mortal man with the mind of an Achaian, and he shall curse you in the tongue of Rome, and by his words the name he calls you shall be made void'. That is the Prophecy of the Liberator. All the Jaffa of Pan know this."
"You wanna be free?" Harm was now slightly confused. Most Jaffa needed a little convincing before they embraced the concept of freedom.
"All those who know they are slaves seek freedom. Most Jaffa do not know they are slaves, but we know. We are kept on this planet for years on end, with only the prospect of a brief relief from it when there is war to be waged. There is limited food, as the space is used to store naquadah and devise technology. Our food is strictly rashioned, and we require special permission to have children. Who would not yearn to be free if they lived thus? We know Pan is not a god. If Pan were a god, he would have no need of this place."
"Even gods need weapons, in most mythologies."
"Not to work simple illusions. Not to look out over the world and see what is going on."
"Okay. So you're free. Now what?"
A somewhat sinister grin appeared on the face of the Jaffa. "Now we exercise that freedom. Remain behind us. The others do not know the prophecy has been fulfilled, they will try to kill or capture you." The Jaffa beckoned.
"Wait just a minute. The people who were with me are on the other side of that rubble. They don't know what's going on either. We have to get them out of there."
"Very well. Stand aside."
All the Jaffa raised their staff weapons, and started firing in volleys at the rubble. As it was mostly metal, in particular gold, it did not require too much heat to melt. Very soon they had cleared a path over the top of the rubble to the two corridors Harm felt Mac and his dad were most likely to be there.
Coughing slightly on the dust the firing and explosions had created, Harm waited for the area to cool a little before climbing over the top, and looking down both ways. There was no sign of either his father or Mac in either unbroken length of corridor.
He climbed to his feet, swaying slightly. He put his hand to his temple, and it came away bloody. He allowed himself a small groan. Another concussion was the last thing he needed.
Then he heard a sound behind him, and corrected himself. A Jaffa with a staff weapon pointed at him ready to fire was the last thing he needed.
He turned round slowly, his arms held out from his sides to show that he wasn't holding anything. There were five Jaffa, standing in a V formation with the point towards him. All of them were aiming their staff weapons at him, the tips crackling with the yellow energy that all to easily could soon be hurtling towards him in a ball of light. And even Jaffa couldn't miss at that range.
The Jaffa at the point of the V spoke to him.
"You are at our mercy, Tau'ri. You will be imprisoned until our Lord and Master arrives to view you for himself. I will take great pleasure in participating in your interrogation."
Harm, never one to particularly enjoy the experience of being tortured, was disinclined to surrender. He spat at the Jaffa's feet, and grinned. "Temetfutue, serve."
Had there been other people present, none of them would have been more surprised than Harm when the Jaffa all bowed their heads and dropped their weapons.
Mac was on the move. Well aware of the fact that she was the nearest to their pursuers, she backtracked along the corridor, hoping to find another turning to escape down rather than be cornered. However, she could not move far before she encountered another blockage in the corridor, where another of the localised charges had detonated. She was stuck.
Harm Sr found himself in a similar situation, cut off in both directions without an escape route. But he had been more fortunate than Mac. A flying shard of gold, formerly part of the wall, had rebounded off the ceiling, revealing some sort of hidden panel in the ceiling, not too far from the wall. Seeing no real alternative, Harm Sr ran his fingers over the wall beneath the opening. The glyphs on the wall did not jut out much, but he'd be able to get a grip with his fingers and the toes of the boots he had chosen to fly in that day. How he would manoeuvre himself through the gap when he got that high was an interesting question, but one which he chose to ignore for the time being.
Harm stared at the Jaffa in front of him.
"What are you doing?"
They all raised their heads. The one at the front raised his hand to the black tattoo on his forehead. It was the shape of a goat; the symbol of Pan's Jaffa.
"You have set us free."
"What?!" Harm had to admit, it was a weird form of manumission.
"It is written."
"What is written?"
"The Prophecy of the Liberator!"
"I still have no idea what you're talking about." Though 'The Liberator' had a nice ring to it.
"'He shall come among you, a mortal man with the mind of an Achaian, and he shall curse you in the tongue of Rome, and by his words the name he calls you shall be made void'. That is the Prophecy of the Liberator. All the Jaffa of Pan know this."
"You wanna be free?" Harm was now slightly confused. Most Jaffa needed a little convincing before they embraced the concept of freedom.
"All those who know they are slaves seek freedom. Most Jaffa do not know they are slaves, but we know. We are kept on this planet for years on end, with only the prospect of a brief relief from it when there is war to be waged. There is limited food, as the space is used to store naquadah and devise technology. Our food is strictly rashioned, and we require special permission to have children. Who would not yearn to be free if they lived thus? We know Pan is not a god. If Pan were a god, he would have no need of this place."
"Even gods need weapons, in most mythologies."
"Not to work simple illusions. Not to look out over the world and see what is going on."
"Okay. So you're free. Now what?"
A somewhat sinister grin appeared on the face of the Jaffa. "Now we exercise that freedom. Remain behind us. The others do not know the prophecy has been fulfilled, they will try to kill or capture you." The Jaffa beckoned.
"Wait just a minute. The people who were with me are on the other side of that rubble. They don't know what's going on either. We have to get them out of there."
"Very well. Stand aside."
All the Jaffa raised their staff weapons, and started firing in volleys at the rubble. As it was mostly metal, in particular gold, it did not require too much heat to melt. Very soon they had cleared a path over the top of the rubble to the two corridors Harm felt Mac and his dad were most likely to be there.
Coughing slightly on the dust the firing and explosions had created, Harm waited for the area to cool a little before climbing over the top, and looking down both ways. There was no sign of either his father or Mac in either unbroken length of corridor.