Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long. I had like 10,000 words written, but then I had to scrap it because it just wasn't working out. I hate having to scrap chapters, and I'm sure everyone hates having to wait because of it, but it's quality over quantity right? And then there were finals, horrible, horrible finals. Any who, things are rolling again. Tell me what you think.
Crumpets Aren't My Style
By Marz
My Enemy's Enemy's Former Roommates
The sky was too orange and the air smelled like mothballs. His eyes watered, his nose ran, and flecks of spit splattered down his arm with each cough. He could feel the dirt still rattling around in his lungs. His stomach contracted again and he gagged. Harry took another gasping, wheezing breath and struggled to get to his feet. His hands slipped out of under him and he fell again.
"Perhaps you had better stay down, Mr. Potter," said the cultured voice of Professor McGonagall.
Harry rolled over so he could see her. His glasses were lost, but she was near enough to his face that he could make her out. He tried to ask how he got there, but another fit of hacking came over him. His teacher flicked her slightly singed tail.
"I had to claw quite a few people before they finally got round to digging you up," she said. "The spell shut down when you did, apparently. You'd managed to inhale quite a bit of soil and your heart had stopped. That Mo'tha woman had to start you up breathing again. You've been unconscious for nearly four hours. You gave me quite a fright, Mr. Potter."
"Sorry," he managed to wheeze between coughs. His vision turned red at the edges as he struggled for air. "Where…hack…where…houggggggg….where….?" he couldn't get his question out, but she got the gist of it.
"We've moved planets. I don't know the name of this one. The Rebels dropped you through the gate as soon as you were breathing again, and of course I followed. They've put you a bit outside the camp. Apparently there is some debate about what you are and what to do with you. It seems about time you got this collar off of me, Mr. Potter. If they decide against you, you will most likely need my help."
"They…chough…the…Jaffa…huk…huuuuuuuuuu Ro'dan is…he…?"
"The little boy that keeps breaking your fingers? He's not up and walking yet, but that Mo'tha character seems to think he'll make a full recovery. Really Mr. Potter, the reparo charm isn't meant to be used on living things. If it wasn't for that parasite, that spell wouldn't have helped him."
"But…hack hack…he's ok."
The cat nodded. "You need to worry more about yourself."
Harry shrugged and lay back for a moment. What would they do with him? He supposed he could come clean about being a wizard, but he didn't know if that would help him. They might think he was trying to pull the same stunt the Go'auld had used on them, claiming to have magic and incomprehensible powers in an attempt to control them. He could just play dumb, he supposed, act like he didn't know what he did or how he did it. It wasn't likely to fool Bre'tac though.
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard footsteps coming through the leaves around him. Harry tried to get up but his arms wouldn't support him. The approaching figure was a tall man dressed in tan clothes, rather then the shades of gray worn by the Jaffa. Harry couldn't see him very well, as his glasses were lost, but he didn't see a tattoo on the man's forehead. Harry was attempting to speak when the man pulled a zat from behind his back and pointed it in Harry's face. McGonagall hissed.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" the man asked in a strangely resonant voice.
"What's…hack….look like I'm doing?" Harry said trying again to rise.
The zat chimed as the man charged it.
"You will answer me," the man demanded.
It was difficult to glare convincingly while coughing, but Harry gave it his best. He thought he might have enough strength in him for a stunning curse, though he'd never had much luck with that one wandless. He clenched his right hand and the thorn embedded under his skin gave a disturbing twitch, as if it knew he was going to use magic.
"Stu-"
"Cree Jaffa!"
The man lowered his zat as six rebels stepped out of concealment in the surrounding vegetation. McGonagall leapt up and nipped the man's fingers. He jumped and dropped the zat.
"Pointing a weapon at an injured child! What is wrong with these people?" she muttered as she hopped back over to Harry's side.
Of course everyone else only heard "Meeeeeeow!"
"Identify yourself!" ordered the lead Jaffa.
Harry recognized him but couldn't remember his name. The stranger did not answer. The Jaffa came forward and bound the man's hands behind his back. Another came and helped Harry to his feet.
"Go and tell Master Bre'tac," the lead Jaffa ordered.
"Bre'tac?" the prisoner said, his voice suddenly sounding like that of a normal man. "You are free Jaffa?"
"We are!" the leader said proudly.
"I am Lanshu of the Tok'ra," he announced, resonating again. "I demand you release me."
The lead Jaffa snorted. "You are in no position to make demands. Bre'tac will decide your fate." The Jaffa turned to Harry, who was staggering along with them. "The counsel has come to a decision about you as well."
"Goody," Harry muttered.
The new camp was still fairly chaotic. It was set up at the edge of a dense jungle, which seemed to be the source of the mothball smell Harry had noted earlier. There were crates and baskets set about randomly. A few bodies lay wrapped and unrecognizable under a small pavilion. The rebels still working paused to watch them as they passed. They seemed more interested in Harry than in the Tok'ra, which made him nervous. Several of the watching Jaffa were also very dirty. The instant quicksand stunt at the gate probably hadn't made him too many friends.
Bre'tac and several other graying Jaffa stood in a pavilion in the center of the camp. They all looked very solemn as Harry and the prisoner approached. Again Harry seemed to have most of their attention, but they spoke to the Tok'ra first.
"Lanshu of the Tok'ra," Bre'tac said, apparently recognizing him. "Why are you here?"
"I need not answer you. Our alliance was dissolved," Lanshu said, his voice going all strange again.
"Your unwillingness to battle alongside us does not speak in your favor," said a female Jaffa, another stranger to Harry.
"I have nothing to say to the soldiers of the Go'auld," Lanshu said.
"You are Go'auld yourself," called a Jaffa who had wandered over to watch.
"I am Tok'ra!" Lanshu declared, his eyes suddenly glowing orange.
"I'm confused," Harry said, rather more loudly then he meant to.
The Jaffa all turned to stare at him.
"We have decided you may stay with us, if you do not wish to return to the Tauri, but we require the truth from you. We will discuss those matters later, after this Tok'ra has been dealt with. Return in two hours," Bre'tac said.
Harry supposed the "go" was implied. He bowed and walked away. He really wanted to know what was going on with that Tok'ra, who may or may not be a Go'auld, but the desire to get the taste of dirt and bile out of his mouth was a little stronger than his curiosity at that moment. McGonagall climbed up onto the roof of the pavilion and sat. He supposed he could get a summary of what went on from her.
He noticed the pack he'd been given at the alpha site among some baskets of supplies and picked it up. He asked a Jaffa woman if there was a stream or something nearby and she gave him directions. She said that they had set up a guarded perimeter three kilometers out, but not to wander much beyond the stream. It took him ten minutes to find his way there. He knelt by the water, scrubbing his face and hands. The water was clear and moved quickly. He could see smooth stones at the bottom. He thought maybe he should worry about leeches or bacteria, but thirst won out and he washed out his mouth, and then drank. He looked up and down the stream, and seeing no one else around decided it wouldn't hurt to have a quick wash and do some laundry. Of course five seconds after he was in his birthday suit company arrived.
"Who are you?"
Harry whirled. The water was up to his chest, so this involved a fair amount of splashing. He finally picked out the speaker. There was a boy crouched in the foliage on the other side of the stream. He had unusually large brown eyes and a bald, almost transparent-looking head. He was dressed in tan and Harry saw he had a zat strapped to his side. Harry guessed the stranger was in his mid-teens.
"I'm Harry Potter," he answered.
"I'm Charlie," the boy said. "And Paclan is with me too."
Harry looked around but didn't see anybody else.
"Nice to meet you," Harry said without much enthusiasm.
"What are you doing?" Charlie asked.
Harry thought of saying "what does it look like I'm doing?", but was worried it would be taken as an invitation to watch. The people on this planet certainly had a propensity for dumb questions.
"I'm covered in dirt, so I'm taking a bath."
"Why are you covered in dirt?"
"Because I accidentally buried myself alive earlier today."
"Why?"
"I ask myself the same question."
The other boy lapsed into silence. Harry sighed and went back to washing. He thought the bald boy might have been a Tok'ra too, but as he didn't seem overly threatening, Harry hoped simply ignoring him would inspire him to go away.
"You cause strange disruptions in the space around you," the boy said as Harry was getting dressed again.
"What?" Harry asked, picking bits of leaves off of his socks.
"Mother created me to see more than I normally would, so I could see her and speak to the humans for her. You look strange. You take up more space than you should. You're in more then one phase."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said.
"Probably not," Charlie agreed.
Charlie sat on the other side of the stream staring at him for a few more minutes, then waved and wandered back into the jungle. Harry repacked his still slightly damp laundry and headed back to the camp. A dozen more Tok'ra had arrived and there was an argument in full swing at the meeting pavilion.
"How do you know you weren't followed?" a Tok'ra man with short curly brown hair was demanding.
"We would not set up a base camp here if we were not certain of it," Joe'mec said.
"This is unacceptable!" declared a Tok'ra woman with short blond hair. "You will lead the Go'auld to a world we have kept hidden for centuries."
"This world is known to the system lords," Bre'tac said. "It is simply not worth their effort to colonize."
"But now they will know we are here and they will come!"
"How will they know?"
"You have spies within your ranks."
"You dare question our honor?"
"If you have claim to this world, we will move on," Bre'tac said, trying to be reasonable.
"It is too late. You will only lead them back to us."
McGonagall sat up on the roof of the pavilion and stretched. She nodded to Harry and then hopped off the roof. She landed on the shoulder of a dark-skinned Tok'ra before taking a second leap to the ground. The man let out a startled shout.
"Keep that beast under control!"
McGonagall looked disdainfully back over her shoulder. Harry was rather glad at that moment that everyone else only heard "Mew". The Tok'ra man watched McGonagall until she reached Harry and climbed up onto his shoulder. His shirt was full of tiny claw holes from her doing that all the time.
"Why is that Tauri boy here?" asked a red-haired Tok'ra woman in a rather skimpy outfit.
"He is training with us. Do not defer from the matter at hand," Bre'tac said.
"It is unfortunate that this planet is such a point of contention between us," said Ish'tar, a Jaffa woman who had come to the camp a few days before the attack by Ba'al. "But we are here already. We have injured to care for and must regroup. We cannot leave for several days, at least. Perhaps we should simply stay out of each other's way until then."
It took another half hour of arguing, but the Rebel Jaffa and the Tok'ra finally agreed to ignore each other. Harry thought the entire situation was fairly ridiculous, but no one asked his opinion. The Tok'ra were escorted out of the camp and Bre'tac waved Harry over.
"We have much to discuss," the old warrior said.
Harry ended up giving Bre'tac a very watered-down version of the story he had given Teal'c a few months earlier. He told him he really was from Earth, and that he had always lived there in secret. He tried to skirt the issue of magic. He didn't really know how to explain it, and with McGonagall hanging about he didn't want to risk saying too much. Master Bre'tac seemed to take it at face value that turning the ground to liquid was something Harry had always been able to do, without knowing how. He told Harry to stay out of trouble and went off to oversee something or other. Harry, having nothing to do, went to check on Ro'dan. The younger boy lay in Mo'tha's tent, looking gray and pale, but he did smile when he saw Harry.
"I have survived my first battle," he said rather proudly.
Harry was tempted to say "You almost didn't." but kept his mouth shut, and nodded.
"Are you feeling better?" Harry asked.
"Of course, my symbiote will have me healed by tomorrow. I am certain. Master Bre'tac said I could join the adult warriors' training now. I think he will let you join them as well."
Harry thought about the still-aching injuries he had from kiddy combat practice. "I don't know if that will work out so well," he said.
"Do not doubt yourself! Though you have no skill in unarmed combat, I have never seen such precise aim with a staff weapon; three kills with your first three shots. I only hit two of Ba'al's Jaffa before I was struck down. How many did you kill?" the young Jaffa asked.
"I…I don't remember," Harry answered. He really didn't. The battle was a confused blur in his memory; dodging, ducking, weaving. Only a few scenes stood out clearly. He remembered taking aim, but the results of his shots were somehow missing.
"You hit Ba'al's first prime in the stomach! How could you not remember?"
"I don't know," Harry muttered.
"His symbiote and intestines fell right out on the ground. I certainly would not forget something like that."
Harry didn't know if he said anything to Ro'dan after that. The next thing he knew he was walking into the jungle with a twisting pain in the center of his chest. He had slumped to the ground. As he thought back to that battle, a lifetime ago but really only that morning, things floated to the surface. He remembered. The second Jaffa through the gate, Harry remembered aiming, and the surprised look on the man's face as he fell to the ground with a smoking hole in his stomach. He could recall, now, the man falling to the ground. The other Jaffa had had to step over him as they came down the steps. His hands had curled and uncurled as if he were trying to grab something. Harry wasn't sure when he started crying, but he was almost cried out when he realized someone was watching him.
"Master Bre'tac," Harry said, getting up.
He made one last attempt to clean off his face, but the Jaffa could probably see that it was wet.
"I was…I was…"
"You were crying," Bre'tac stated.
"No! No, it's just that I…I still have dirt in my eye-"
"Jaffa warriors do not lie," the old warrior said sharply.
Harry watched him for a few moments, not sure how to answer.
"Why do you act this way?" Bre'tac asked.
Harry still didn't know what to say. Bre'tac looked angry about something, but Harry wasn't sure if it was because he'd wandered out of camp again without telling anyone, or something about the quicksand stunt he'd pulled at the gate, or any number of cultural incompatibility errors he may have committed.
"Explain what you are doing out here," Bre'tac said, clarifying.
"I didn't want people to see me," Harry answered hanging his head.
"I do not mean why you left the camp. Why do you weep?"
Harry was again uncertain. He looked up at Bre'tac through tangled and overgrown hair. He started to respond several times, but cut himself off. The Jaffa master was starting to look impatient, so Harry finally spit something out.
"People are dead because of me," Harry answered. "People are dead because I killed them and I…I didn't even care. I shot them and I didn't care. I killed all those people and I didn't even know them."
"Do you believe they would have spared you? Or anyone else in the camp had they been allowed to pass?" Bre'tac asked, as if he found Harry's contemplations offensive.
"I…I…"
"Could you have stopped them without killing them?"
"I might have….I tried…"
Bre'tac cut him off. "Then why do you sit here mourning and wallowing in self-pity? The universe is not as it should be, and cannot be any other way if those able to change it are unwilling to act."
"But this killing, is that how it should be? Is that the better way? I don't think I can do it again."
"I think you can," Bre'tac said. "I think you are afraid."
"I'm not afraid to die," Harry said, which wasn't true, but seemed the right thing to say.
"You are afraid," the Jaffa Master stated. "Perhaps you are afraid you are like them? Do you think that killing Ba'al's soldiers to aid in our defense has made you into something you are not? You think you have become a mindless follower, killing without feeling or thought? What is it?"
"I'm not a murderer," Harry mumbled, unable to look up.
"And you think I am?"
"No! You don't have a choice. But I…I don't know. It isn't right."
"I made a choice nearly a hundred years ago, long before I became First Prime of Apophis and leader of his armies. I saw then that those who ruled us were not what they claimed. I could have fled or tried to assassinate my Master; instead, I chose to stay in his service. I killed for him and tried to keep as many of the other Jaffa, my brothers, alive as possible. I did great evil in his name, all the while looking and hoping for an opportunity to free all of my people from the Go'auld. When my former student, Teal'c defected to the Tauri I allowed myself to believe that change was coming. I now lead Jaffa against Jaffa. Those we hope to free are our greatest opponents. Every battle we fight leaves the blood of our brothers on our hands. Yet if we were unwilling to do battle, the Go'auld would remain unchallenged in their tyranny. Where is the right in all of that?"
"Maybe all of it is wrong," Harry answered.
"It may be, but what else is there?"
"I don't know," Harry said.
"A person leaves a bit of themselves behind in every battle they fight. The first battles take the most," Bre'tac said, looking up at the stars, barely visible through the jungle canopy. "Now you mourn what is lost, but you may be better off without it. The world is too uncertain for you to survive for long, otherwise. If you intend to sleep this night, return to camp soon. Training resumes at dawn."
Bre'tac turned suddenly and started back towards the camp. Harry felt more confused and slightly dizzy, but the urge to cry had left him. He got to his feet and followed.
The next few days passed slowly. Training resumed, and this time Harry was allowed to practice with people his own age. He didn't feel quite so bad about hitting larger opponents with the staff weapon, so he actually managed to score a few hits and disarm his partner several times. Of course, the Jaffa warriors his age were also about three times as strong as he was, and he had a purple patchwork of bruises to prove it. His only advantage was slightly quicker reflexes that allowed him to get out of the way of more devastating strikes. He was getting a reputation as a dodger, but found he didn't care that much, as long as he wasn't getting a broken arm every other day.
McGonagall agreed to work with him as he tried wandless transfiguration, but they rarely had the privacy to practice. Harry had noticed that weird kid, Charlie, watching him from the jungle when he went to get water for the camp and sometimes when he was out running with the other Jaffa. He had waved to him a couple of times.
As the first week on "planet mothball" came to a close Harry once again noticed Charlie hanging out by the stream again as he and a few of the younger Jaffa washed the dishes from the evening meal. Charlie waved and Harry waved back. Tre'ak elbowed Harry in the ribs.
"You shouldn't talk to him," Tre'ak said. "He's Tok'ra. Their kind have no honor."
"They claim they aren't Go'auld but if they can't find a host who will volunteer, they take the nearest human," said Ro'dan.
Charlie was watching the exchange with huge sad eyes.
"Stop it. He can hear you," Harry hissed.
"Why should we care if a parasite hears us?" said Tre'ak loudly.
There was a loud rustle of leaves as Charlie rushed off into the jungle. The Jaffa nodded to each other, silently passing along a "mission accomplished." Harry picked up his pile of dishes and stormed off. When the others were well out of sight, Harry stacked the dishes by a funny looking tree so he could find them later, and then waded across the stream.
It didn't take long to find Charlie. He'd left a trail Harry could have followed even before training with Bre'tac. But then the problem became what to do now that he was found. Charlie was crying and tearing leaves off a nearby plant, and then shredding those leaves into even smaller bits.
"Hey," Harry said awkwardly.
Charlie said nothing and continued shredding leaves.
"Sorry about those guys. They just…don't understand…that they're jerks," Harry finished lamely.
"They don't just grab the nearest human," Charlie said.
"Who?" Harry asked.
"The Tok'ra. They'd rather die then take a host against their will. It's just that once in a while someone panics and really, who wouldn't if they're dying, but that's the worst crime, you understand?"
"Not really," Harry said. He wasn't following the conversation, but Charlie had stopped crying so he guessed things weren't going that badly.
"Lanshu said you were from Earth," Charlie said, suddenly changing topic.
Harry nodded. "I'm from England."
"That's on Earth, though?"
Harry laughed and nodded. "What planet are you from?"
"I was created on Reetalia."
"Created?" Harry asked.
"Mother created me to act as an interpreter between her and the people of earth, so they could be warned of an impending attack. She was in a hurry and made lots of mistakes. If it wasn't for Paclan, I'd have died years ago."
"And Paclan is your…Tok'ra?"
Charlie nodded. "He's quiet most of the time. He doesn't talk to me much, because he thinks it will disrupt the formation of my personality if I'm constantly under his influence."
"Oh. So…er…are there lots of other kids with Tok'ra around?"
"I am the only host under the age of forty at the base."
Harry supposed that explained a lot. He knew what it was like to be stuck with a large group of people and not have any friends to commiserate with. Remind me to shoot myself in the foot if I ever complain about fate again. He'd thought having to fight Voldemort was a bad lot to draw, but this kid had him beat by a mile. Created by aliens so you could deliver a message and then die, that had just about everybody beat.
"Do you…want to…I don't know…play chess or something?" Harry ventured.
He didn't have a chess set or any other board game for that matter, but he couldn't really think of anything else to say.
"I used to play chess with Jack," Charlie said, looking up and smiling.
"With Mr. O'Neill?"
"He says I can call him Jack," Charlie declared proudly, but then his face fell. "He doesn't visit so much any more. Not at all, since the thing with Canin."
"What thing?"
"Jack was dying and Canin promised to heal him and then find another host. Jack didn't want to do it, but he finally agreed to when they said Canin had information that could save many Tok'ra lives if they could retrieve it. Canin took him and left the camp without permission and got captured by Ba'al. He left Jack there by himself. Ba'al tortured him to death for weeks, so I don't blame him for not coming to visit any more."
"Well that's…bad," Harry said.
"But we can play chess!" Charlie said as if suddenly remembering. "Come on!"
Reluctantly Harry followed after him. He wondered just how angry Bre'tac would get when he noticed Harry was gone. They didn't have any training scheduled for that evening, but he hadn't exactly been encouraged to visit the Tok'ra. They hiked up the side of the valley. Harry started to wonder if what the Jaffa had been saying about the Tok'ra was even a little bit true. He could be following Charlie right into a trap. Of course Charlie didn't seem the type to knock him over the head and put a parasitic snake into his brain, but then again, Quirrel didn't seem the type to strangle his students and Moody didn't seem the type to rig up a portkey to deliver him to Voldemort. I really am an awful judge of character, Harry though, pausing in his tracks.
"Almost there!" Charlie called back.
They scrambled over the top of the hill and then down into another ravine, where the ground was almost completely covered with black vines that cracked and oozed foul-smelling sap as they stepped on them. At the bottom of the ravine was a pit. The Harry looked over the edge, into the seemingly endless darkness below.
"We don't have to jump, do we?" he asked.
"Nope," Charlie said, stepping over the edge.
Harry lunged to catch him, but pulled up short when he realized Charlie wasn't actually falling. After another moment of hesitation, he stepped out after him. When they were both standing well clear of the edge, Harry looked down again.
"The ground feels weird."
"It isn't really the ground," Charlie started to explain. "The pit isn't an illusion. We're actually standing on a force field."
"Oh," said Harry. "So how do we get into the base from here?"
"Like this," said Charlie, as he pressed a button on what Harry had thought was a wristwatch.
The force field shut down. For half a second they were in free fall, and then with a loud whirring seven large metallic rings came up around them. For an instant everything disappeared in a flash of light, and then they were standing in a cavern. Harry looked around, blinking and amazed as the rings rose back into the ceiling. He stared in wonder at the crystals that formed the walls, ceiling and floor.
"This is very…cool," Harry said after a moment.
He was a bit shook up from those ring things. For a second it felt as if he was being painlessly torn into little pieces. He wondered if disapparating felt anything like that.
"Come on, my room's this way," Charlie said, grabbing his arm like an overexcited eight-year-old.
It turned out that Charlie wasn't the chess master that Ron was, but was still ridiculously better at the game than Harry. They'd been playing for about an hour before a very angry-looking Tok'ra with short curly hair burst into the room.
"Paclan! Rem shal ork nor cren Tauri!" he shouted in a booming voice.
Harry was pretty sure he was the target of the man's ire, as he was glaring at him with glowing eyes.
Charlie's eyes flashed the same disturbing orange and he answered in a similarly deep tone "He looked alright to me."
"Maybe I should leave," Harry said starting to get up.
"You will not move!" the man demanded.
Harry saw he was resting a hand on the zat strapped to his side. The man and Paclan/Charlie continued to argue, but they lapsed completely into that strange other language, so Harry wasn't following very well. He was feeling incredibly awkward, but didn't think there was a way to slip out of the room without being shot. He could see other people were gathering outside in the hall, and were arguing amongst themselves as well. A lot of people were staring at him.
He did his best to affect an air of complete boredom and tried to balance a captured bishop on its pointy little head. That accomplished, he began to balance the pawns, one at a time. They were a little harder than the bishops as they were round on the top, but after a few minutes he got them all up. He was starting on Charlie's pieces when he realized the argument had stopped. He looked up. They were still staring, but no longer at him. He looked down. Sixteen chess pieces stood, improbably balanced on their heads on the flat board. The thorn in his hand was twitching slightly.
"Crap," he muttered.
The pieces tipped and fell.
"We have few other options," Anise said.
She dimmed the lights in the lab and brought up the holograms she and Solit had constructed. They both knew it would take a lot of convincing to get Gel'et and the other high consulars of the Tok'ra to approve their plan, and a few shiny visual aids couldn't hurt their efforts. Lanshu stepped closer, peering at the images of the planet Ock'een suspiciously.
"You are certain your program will be able to override the system without Ba'al's detection? Of all the System Lords, he is the most skilled in detecting our inquests into his systems."
"If we can upload it into the subspace broadcasters before the system has been brought online and run through initial diagnostics, the program will not be found," Solit said confidently.
"And how will we get access to the systems on Ock'een?" asked Yolan. "Tieholtsodi is a minor Go'auld, but carefully guarded nonetheless. No Tok'ra would be able to sneak into his palace."
"Not a Tok'ra," Solit conceded.
"Who did you have in mind?" Gel'et asked.
"We need a human," Solit began.
"And where would you get one on such short notice?" Gel'et asked suspiciously.
"There is one in the rebel Jaffa camp at this very moment," Anise said. "The boy has been to our base several times and had developed a close friendship with Paclan's host, Charlie."
"You wish to send that boy, who has information about us, the rebels, and the Tauri into a situation where he may be captured and tortured for information, or taken as a host?" Gel'et asked.
"He will not be chosen as host," Anise said calmly. "He is too young and not a terribly attractive child. At worst he will be executed."
Gel'et frowned and stared into the holograms for several long moments. "You believe he will be willing to help you?"
Solit nodded. "Though it would be best if we did not tell Paclan, until the mission is well underway. He may not approve."
"It is the rebel Jaffa you should worry about," Yolan said. "They may not be willing to give the boy up to you."
"We will convince them," Solit said confidently.
"No."
"This opportunity will not come again," Solit said. "If we do not plant the override programs before the system is secured, we will lose a chance to monitor all of Ba'al's communications. Think of what we could do with such information!"
The leader of the rebels stood expressionless before her, glowering and unconvinced.
"O'Neill has entrusted him to us," Bre'tac said. "If I thought he was ready for such missions, he would be carrying them out with the free Jaffa he has trained with. Besides, the boy is too young."
"That is what makes him perfect for this mission," Anise said. "Our operative will get him into the group of human slaves being brought before Tieholtsodi, as potential hosts. He will be overlooked because of his age and sent back outside to continue work on the temples that that Go'auld is constructing. In the few hours he is inside he will be able to upload the program into the temple's communication systems."
"It is too great a risk. You To'kra have a habit of overstating the simplicity or security of a mission to get others to agree to participate in it."
"I swear upon my own life, the risk is minimal," said Solit.
Bre'tac scowled. "You may swear upon your life all you wish, but the boy will not go with you."
Solit, Anise, and Yolan nodded, slightly less then graciously, and walked out. They hadn't expected the Jaffa to agree readily, but they had not expected to be so bluntly denied access to the Tauri child. The boy had not been in the camp when they arrived, so there was no time to get him on their side before approaching Bre'tac. They were halfway back to the base when they noticed the boy jogging on a trail in the valley bellow them.
"Wait here," Solit said.
She slid down the hill. He noticed her coming and hesitated. For a moment she struggled to recall his name. The Tauri were easily offended when mistakes of that sort were made.
"Harry Potter?" she called.
"Yes?" he said, walking cautiously back towards her.
"I would speak to you for a moment."
When he saw Solit sliding down the hill towards him, he was more then a little concerned. After the incident with the chess pieces, the Tok'ra, other then Charlie, were constantly trying to get him to put his head into weird machines. Paclan said it was because they thought he might be a telekinetic Hok'tar. Harry finally submitted to a brain Xerox a few days earlier. He and Charlie were attempting to assemble a Risk board game, and that weird woman, Anise agreed to trade them some markers and cardboard for a scan of Harry's brain. She seemed very disappointed in it, saying he had unusually low levels of activity in his frontal lobe. He had been worried they wanted some follow up scans. What the Tok'ra woman was asking for took him completely by surprise.
"Would you be willing to help us?" she said after her woeful tale was finished.
Harry chewed his lower lip. He didn't trust them, except maybe Charlie. But then again they were on the same side, fighting Ba'al. And they sounded very sure the plan would work.
"But why would they just let me walk in?"
"Inspection of slaves is very lax. You will be brought from the marketplace, searched for weapons, and then brought to the palace for inspection and possible resale. You will be sent to work building the temples outside. I will retrieve you there."
"But won't they notice I've got the program thing with me? Won't they find it in the search?"
"They will search only for weapons and other symbiotes. The program will be encoded in a partially organic matrix. It will not be found. Time is very short."
"Alright. I just need to clear it with Bre'tac."
"He has already given his permission," Solit said. "That is what we were speaking to him about."
"Oh. Well I should probably go get my things."
"We have all the equipment you will need."
"I have to…tell my cat where I'm going…"
The Tok'ra woman looked at him skeptically.
"My cat…she's very…she'll drive everyone in camp nuts if I don't feed her."
"We will send someone to feed your cat, but time is of the essence. We must leave immediately if we are going to reach Ock'een before the communications systems are complete."
"But the shapa'i only takes…"
"We must travel by ship," Solit said.
Harry had a bad feeling about this, but then again he had never seen a spaceship before. And they did seem very sure of themselves.
"Alright, but remember about my cat."
They hiked back to the Tok'ra base, at a pace Harry could barely maintain. He'd been up to visit the Tok'ra camp several times since Charlie first invited him a few weeks earlier. They played cards and chess and once in a while Harry got to help him repair some of the Tok'ra's very interesting and glowy technology. Or rather he got to hold a flashlight or fetch tools while Paclan repaired Tok'ra technology. The way there had become familiar, but today it took on a dark and forbidding air. He couldn't shake the creeping feeling that he was being watched as he stepped out over the pit. As Solit hit the control button on the little watch-like device on her wrist, Harry wondered where in the caverns the Tok'ra kept their spaceships.
His answer arrived as the rings sank away, leaving them not in the normal crystal-lined check-in room, but instead in a triangular room with gold walls and slate floor, into which the rings dropped. Solit strode purposefully out of the room and Harry jogged after.
"Sit there," she said pointing at the copilot's chair. "Do not touch anything other than the chair and the floor. Do not move until we are underway."
Harry wanted to say something in defense of his maturity, but all complaints dropped away as he looked out the forward window.
"Wow."
It was insufficient, but all he could coherently say.
"I said stay in your seat," Solit said sharply, not looking up from the control panels.
Harry hadn't realized he was standing.
"This is the first time I've ever been on a spaceship," he said.
It was as close as he was willing to come to an apology.
"Unless you stop distracting me, it will also be the last."
Harry frowned and sat. The view before him suddenly changed. The endless night sky was replaced by a swirling circle of pastel colors into which the ship suddenly rushed. There was only the faintest hint of motion.
The next nine hours were not exactly exciting. Solit wasn't much of a conversationalist. She would answer direct questions in as few words as possible. Harry tried to sleep in the copilot's chair but it was definitely not designed for that. He got up and paced the ship, despite glares from Solit. The most exciting thing he did was figure out how the Go'auld designed W.C. worked. He went back to his chair and struggled to find a comfortable position to sleep in.
He had just managed to find a working doze position, with one leg thrown over the arm of the chair and his head resting on his arm, resting on the panel that separated the pilot and copilot seats, when an alarm went off. An incomprehensible display of lights came up on the inside of the windows, green dots and angry red graphs.
"Go into the cargo hold. There is a trunk containing the clothing worn by humans native to Ock'een. Put them on. Make certain you remove all personal items and items made by the Tauri," Solit ordered.
Harry returned a few minutes later in the itchiest clothing he had ever worn. And the itch seemed to concentrate itself in the spot right in the center of his back where it was almost impossible to reach. He supposed his agitated dancing finally inspired Solit to look up from the controls.
"Are you certain you have removed all Tauri made items?" she asked.
"Yes," Harry responded, walking past her towards his seat.
He couldn't suppress the startled yelp as Solit snapped the waistband of his boxers.
"The people of Ock'een have no such material," she said innocently.
Harry couldn't seem to find a comfortable way to sit in the chair anymore. He wondered how people got anything done before elastic was invented. He couldn't seem to stop worrying about his clothes falling off. He shot Solit an annoyed look every few minutes, but she didn't seem to care. It was another hour before the planet Ock'een came into view.
Harry couldn't keep the stupid smile off his face as they approached. Out in space it hadn't really felt like they were doing anything, but now that their objective was in view it actually felt as if they were flying. The planet expanded from a tiny point of light to a huge green and blue globe that filled the windows. They dropped through the atmosphere, bright burning light from friction with the air coming up around them. Harry didn't see any cities as they flew in low over the forest. He mentioned it to Solit.
"Most of the population lives within a few hundred miles of the gate. We have come in on the other side of the planet to avoid detection. After we land we will have to travel several miles on foot to reach the city of Tieholtsodi," she explained.
They landed and started off into the jungle. Solit seemed to know where she was going, and set a very uncomfortable pace. The Ock'een-style shoes she had gotten for Harry didn't fit very well and after about half an hour his feet were killing him. It was an hour more before they came across the first of the enemy Jaffa. A group of seven was marching along a dirt track. The lead Jaffa was wearing a helmet so large Harry was amazed the man wasn't tipping over. It was molded in the shape of a cobra's head and the eyes glowed with a disturbing red light. For a moment Harry was confused. He'd learned a little bit about the System Lords, the most powerful Go'auld in the galaxy, from the rebels. He thought the snake guards worked for Apophis, Teal'c's old boss.
"I thought Apophis was dead," he whispered to Solit as they crouched in the shrubbery, waiting for the patrol to pass.
"He is."
"So those aren't Apophis's Jaffa?"
"No. In recent years many System Lords have fallen in battle and the armor of their guards has had little value. I believe Tieholtsodi got several dozen serpent guard helms for a very small price."
"His guards are wearing used armor?"
"He is a bit of a joke to the more powerful Go'auld, which is probably why they allow him to live. He is also unusually skilled at adapting alien technology. At the moment he is under Ba'al's protection. He is one of the few weak links in Ba'al's communications system."
"If he is such a joke, why would Ba'al tell him anything important?"
"We are not concerned with what Ba'al says to Tieholtsodi. We are concerned with his subspace communications system."
"Oh. How much farther?"
"A few miles more."
A "few" must have a very different meaning to the Tok'ra, Harry grumbled to himself as the city finally came into sight. They'd walked for at least another three hours since passing the first patrol. The city looked only half finished. There were lots of mud and straw houses on the outlier and huge stone blocks lay about everywhere, though few buildings had actually been constructed. They apparently hadn't started work on the sewer system yet. Solit pulled him into one of the mud houses.
"This device must be attached to the bottom of a communication relay. Any relay inside the palace will do. They are large metal spheres, which hover several feet off the ground. You should be able to find one on your own, once you are inside," she explained hurriedly.
The override device looked an awful lot like a slice of processed American cheese. Harry put it in the pocket of his trousers. They stepped out of the little house and hurried further into the city.
"Just keep your head down. Avoid eye contact unless someone orders you directly to do otherwise. Do not speak to the other slaves. If a guard knocks you down, do not retaliate. You must act completely subservient while you are inside. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded mutely and looked at the ground. "How was that?" he asked a moment later.
"Don't speak, human!"
Harry stumbled as Solit hit him hard between the shoulder blades. He noticeda Jaffadownthe street was looking at them, and tried not to take it personally.
The Jaffa gave him a hard shove and he stumbled into the pen. The gate swung shut behind him and there was a loud sizzle as the fence reactivated. Harry turned slowly in a circle, taking it all in. There were maybe fifty people crowded in there. They all kept toward the center, showing clear respect for the fence. The faces that looked back at him were either disturbingly blank or disturbingly interested. No one spoke or nodded or gave any form of greeting.
Harry shuffled his feet a bit and something caught against the wooden sole of his shoes. He looked down. There was a thin net of wires under the dirt on the ground. Harry guessed it was probably so the guards could shock everyone in the holding pen if they got out of hand.
Is it too late to change my mind? he thought as he sat down.
The morning wore on into scorching afternoon and there was no shade. His stomach was rumbling and his mouth was dry and sticky with thirst. He supposed everyone else was even worse off then he, as they had been in there longer. It was dusk when two harried-looking men arrived with a large bucket of water between them on a pole. The guards let them in. One by one the slaves lined up for a dipper full of the muddy, tepid liquid.
About an hour after sunset the guards came for them. They shouted something in another language. Everyone else in the pen got into a sort of haphazard line and put their hands on top of their heads. In single file they began to walk out, towards the half-finished palace. Harry looked about. There were at least ten prisoners for every guard. He was pondering whether or not he'd be able to outrun them when someone further up the line got the same idea.
He wasn't sure if the escapee was a man or a woman. The hunched figure, dressed in rags, shoved the woman in front of him towards the Jaffa guards and ran. He was cut down by half a dozen shots from assorted staff weapons. Harry grimaced. Maybe I'll wait for Solit.
They passed through an ornately carved arch as they entered. Harry felt a strange buzzing, and guessed they'd just passed the Go'auld version of a metal detector. People were taking their hands off their heads so Harry followed suit. They were moving down a long hall and at the end of it Harry could see a large floating metal sphere that was most likely the subspace communication thingy Solit had described. He reached into his pocket and palmed the couldn't-really-be-a-cheese-slice. As he passed the floating globe has slapped the override-cheese slice onto the bottom. It seemed to melt into the surface of the sphere. He looked back, but the Jaffa guards hadn't noticed him.
Mission accomplished, then. That wasn't so hard.
They turned a corner and passed into what could most accurately be described as a throne room. That was the only piece of furniture Harry could see, anyway. It stood at one end of the room, on a raised dais. On the other side there was a large gap in the floor, maybe fifteen feet across, running the width of the entire room, with a gilded railing around it. Harry wondered what was down there for all of three seconds before he heard the hissing. He supposed it made sense. If you had the serpent guard armor, you'd need the pit of snakes to go with it. The slaves were lined up in the center of the room with their backs to the pit.
"Kneel before Teiholtsodi, Serpent God of the Third Plane, Ruler of All Waters," ordered a Jaffa with a little gold mark on his forehead.
Harry couldn't see what it depicted, as his glasses were still buried three planets back, but he remembered that gold meant first prime rank. The humans all knelt as quickly as they could, and Harry heard more then a few stiff joints popping. Most of them proceeded to stare at the floor, but Harry's attention was drawn to the procession that was entering the room.
In the lead was a man with a pointed hat that appeared to be made out of snakeskin. Behind him were two burly Jaffa, carrying an ornately decorated glass aquarium between them. It looked like it was full of blue green eels. Then there was a woman in a turban, a gold bikini, and what, on Earth, Harry would have called a smoking jacket. He would never understand alien fashion, he supposed. She was carrying a bunch of smoking incense. And taking up the rear was a man so badly dressed he had to be Tieholtsodi. It looked as if he had decided to wear burgundy Venetian blinds with bits of gold foil glued on. He wasn't particularly tall, and his face was unremarkable, except for the glowing orange eyes, of course. He raised his hand and spoke in a booming voice.
"Today some of you shall be blessed beyond your capacity to understand. I, Tieholtsodi, your god, have brought you forth from nothing, and made you civilized. But greater glory is possible for those who have served me with the greatest dedication. This night, seven of you shall become children of the gods!"
When he finished he nodded to the bikini woman. She reached into the aquarium and pulled out one of the creatures, which Harry was wishing very hard would turn out to be eels, as he'd first thought. The creature gave a wheezing shriek and hissed unintelligibly as it writhed in the woman's hand.
"Choose!" Tieholtsodi said.
The woman held the Go'auld parasite high above her head, and stepped toward the line of slaves.
This to Harry did not look like constructions work, nor resale. He suspected Solit had been slightly less then honest with him.
I think I'm starting to understand why nobody likes the Tok'ra.