"Ray."
"Trev? What ya got?"
"I found an unexpected ally. In ten minutes he's going to sound the alarm about the refugees."
Ray began to pace. "And that's a good thing?"
"Yes. Look, Ray, get the boy and Major Carter to the Stargate. I don't know what the situation is with Dr. Jackson, but I know Vosk is there with him. It may take some time to free Dr. Jackson. I need you to get Col. O'Neill and Teal'c from the Communications room." He clicked off.
"Freak." Ray muttered. He glanced at the auto-doc. "Two more minutes." He took a deep breath and looked at Napoleon and Illya. They both nodded at him, eyes kind, and for a moment he missed Lilia's physical presence with a visceral pang. He pushed that feeling down sharply and looked soberly at Rya'c.
Rya'c, picking up the seriousness of the moment, straightened his spine and returned the level look.
Ray sighed.
"All right, kid. I'm gonna explain this whole crazy situation to you while we wait for the Major. You can take all this stuff back to your dad, so don't feel like I'm telling secrets out of school or nothin'."
He scrubbed his face with his hands, ran them across his head, and gripped his blond hair for a moment. Then he stopped and shook himself all over, and began pacing.
"So...hey. Here we go. In the beginning there was a race of snakes, right? And most of them were wicked little buggers. They set themselves up as gods and made slaves out of other races...you're up with this part of the story, right?" he peered at Rya'c, who nodded.
"Right. So those guys called themselves the Goa'uld. And then a bunch of the snakes decided they weren't down with all the raping and looting and killing. They kinda liked the people they were joining with and they decided they'd rather make it a partnership than take over the poor saps' brains against their will. The main bad guy at that point was this real vicious fuck named Ra and the movement took its name from their resistance to him. So then, you got your Tok'Ra."
He paused, and then flung himself into a seat across from the boy. He looked at the kid, suddenly exhausted. It was more psychological than physical - the symbiote wrapped around his brainstem gave him more stamina than your average guerilla or whatever. But trying to boil down the wacky hijinks of the last several millennia in two minutes was a serious fucking challenge.
"That's where it takes one more branching." his eyes were clear, his voice level and somber. "The Tok'Ra have an agenda. They want to take down the Goa'uld. And we are all over that, believe you me. But at some point a bunch of the Tok'Ra got fed up with the party line. It just seemed that whether it was the Goa'uld or the Tok'Ra, the larger picture was always about this insane war. No one seemed to care that whole worlds were being enslaved. No one cared about all the little guys stuck in ships like this, waiting to be killed or taken over by a Goa'uld. The Goa'uld wanted planets. The Tok'Ra want to take down the Goa'uld. No one wanted to free the slaves."
"So the Lar'raan Reii was born. A bunch of disaffected members of the Tok'Ra set upÉwellÉbasically it's an Underground Railroad. We hit mother ships and free slaves. That's what we do. That's all we do. We don't attack System Lords or plot major battles."
Ray grinned, "As Fraser puts it, 'We're a specialized guerilla spin-off of a disaffected order of rebels.' I like to think of us as the black sheep of the Tok'Ra."
Ray stood again, glancing once more at Illya. The blond head nodded once, sharply, and Ray exhaled a long, long breath.
"Any questions?"
Rya'c's eyes were huge. He simply sat there, stunned, absorbing the information Ray was spilling. Ray could almost see it rising in his head like mercury, heavy and poisonous. He hated himself for giving this job to a child, but Napoleon was right. He needed someone to tell the people with the Stargate that they were good guys. And it had to be someone that the bad guys back on Earth would have a hard time squeezing.
This group, this 'SG-1', they were like cops. Yeah, OK, military - whatever. They were basically space cops. And cops backed up cops. He couldn't be out here and not help them and he knew Frase would feel the same. But he and Fraser were too vulnerable back home. They had too many people they loved. It was going to be tricky no matter how you looked at it.
Napoleon looked at him with compassion in his dark brown eyes.
I know it feels wrong to use the kid, he said, but he is living proof that you're an ally.
"I know." Ray said quietly.
"You know what, Master Skywalker?" Rya'c looked at him strangely.
Right. Ray thought, wincing. The kid can't see Illya and Napoleon.
"Actually, " Ray said, trying to smile at the earnest young Jaffa Junior, "my name's Ray. You can call me that."
The corner of Rya'c's mouth twitched, the question only half serious, "Master Ray?"
"No, kid, no." Ray laughed a little and immediately felt better. Obviously, this kid would be all right. "Just Ray."
Don't discount him, Ray. He's tougher than he looks. Illya was studying Rya'c closely, eyes narrowed in concentration. He is obviously a survivor.
He turned back to Ray and nodded once again.
Yes, Ray. Illya smiled gently at his worried corporeal friend, I believe Rya'c will be just fine.
There was a beep and a hiss and the autodoc's cover slid open, exposing an unconscious but healed Major Carter.
"Oh thank god." Ray breathed. He threw a zat in his pants pocket and tucked his handgun in to the waistband of his jeans. He grabbed another zat and looked back at Rya'c.
"Time to go, kid. I just wanted you to know who we are. So you know who you're fighting with." As lies went, that wasn't such a bad one. And it made Rya'c happy.
Good luck, Ray. Illya said. Ray nodded at him then tossed Rya'c a zat.
"Ready?"
Rya'c flushed with pleasure, but his hands on the weapon were steady and he stood tall.
"You know how to get to the Gate?"
Rya'c nodded. "I kept my eyes open on the way to the place where they held me. I can find my way back."
Ray was already in motion. "Greatness." He went to the auto-doc and pressed a few buttons. "OK, kid. Here's the rules. No shooting unless we have to. We've got an injured Major and that means stealth as much as possible."
Rya'c nodded reluctantly. Ray grinned.
"Good. We're doneski." He made his way to the center of the ship's small hold, cradling the small blond officer in his arms. Rya'c stood next to him, zat at the ready.
"Let's get at 'er." Ray said softly. Metal rings stacked up around the three of them and they disappeared in a glimmer of light.
There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of flesh rubbing against cloth. A suave and rich voice murmured
Illya, why are you wearing that shoulder holster anyway?
A somewhat breathless Russian tenor responded.
You are always welcome to remove it, Napasha, if it truly offends you.
Napoleon laughed as he stood, dragging Illya up with him. He wrapped his hands around the arm straps of the leather holster and pulled Illya in close.
Uh huh. You would just love that, wouldn't you? Sneaky Russian.
The two men kissed. As they began to fad e away
Of course I'm sneaky, Napoleon. I am a spy, remember?