A/N: Trigger/Content Warnings: Mental Health Issues.


After discovering Sha're on Abydos on the one-year anniversary of her kidnapping and all the upheaval that followed, life went back to semi-normal for Daniel, or at least semi-normal for the new normal that was his life on Uslisgas. Not long after his wife was transferred from the Furlings' base in the Milky-Way back to Ardea, one of their off-world bases in Asteria where Goa'uld hosts would be held until they could be freed, Daniel was appointed as Sujanha's third aid, a development which he was pleased with. Suggesting the appointment to him, the Commander had noted wryly that, with all the help he had been to her since his arrival, he had been doing the work of an aid and should at least get paid in return.

Ruarc, who had become Daniel's closest friend on Uslisgas and his go-to person for questions about anything Furling or anything Furling-related, had revealed that his salary … very generous … would allow him to live extremely comfortably … by my standards, at least … even if he were paying for his own housing. And since I'm staying with the Commander and she's not even letting me chip in for the common meals, that's most of my salary getting banked every month. Thankfully, with the Furling's 'banking' system, Daniel was not reduced to hiding his money under his mattress.

Every weekend where urgent business did not confine him to Uslisgas, Daniel went off-world to Abydos to check on his son and spend time with him. Even though circumstances prevented him from raising Sha're's son 25-8-400,[1] he wanted his face to be familiar. He wanted to spend time with the child whom he already loved as his own. He wanted to build a relationship with him. Shifu was a good-natured child, quite healthy too, and was grew quickly in those first weeks and months. After visiting Kasuf and Shifu on Abydos, Daniel always went next to Ardea, the world where Sha're was confined, to check on his wife and spend some time with her. He could not talk to her per-say, since Amaunet was in control, but he could talk at her and hope that Sha're could at least hear his voice and the updates on how her son was growing.

Three months passed, and Sha're remained confined. Developing safer methods to extract symbiotes would take time even as advanced as the Furling healers were. As promised, Amaunet was never interrogated by the Furling military, though occasionally probing or leading questions were put to her as a one-off, and from time-to-time Goa'uld arrogance served its purposes to lead her into saying more than she should in response. One piece of information that came from such questions regarded something that had troubled Daniel ever since their return from Abydos. It had never made sense why Apophis wanted to take his host's son as his new host, and it had made even less sense why such a decision (as staggeringly depraved as it was to Daniel and everyone else) was controversial enough to require it being hidden from the other System Lords.

The answer when it came was critical for taking care of Shifu but utterly horrifying, plunging his healthy son into an uncertain future.

Harcesis—which was probably derived from Harsiesis (Hor-sa-Isis, Horus son of Isis)—was the term that Amaunet used one day during one bout of ravings about her pharaoh avenging her and setting her free and destroying the Furlings and razing their worlds to the ground for holding her captive and so forth and so on. The term meant nothing to Daniel at first, aside from its likely etymological and historical derivations, which he could have expounded to Sujanha at length.

The term Harcesis meant nothing to Daniel—what exactly did it mean that Shifu was Harcesis? How was Harcesis related to Apophis' concern that the boy not be discovered?

It seemed important enough to track down. But how? Daniel had no access to Teal'c or to Bra'tac or any other Free Jaffa. The Asgard, when asked, knew nothing. Whatever Harcesis was, it seemed to have to do with the inner workings of the Goa'uld, which the Asgard had nothing to do with.

So, who to ask? How do you solve a mystery when all the experts were in another galaxy?

It was actually one of Sujanha's senior commanders who proposed the solution. The Free Jaffa were in the Milky-Way, but all of Heru'ur's Jaffa who had raided Cimmeria and then been captured by Thor were prisoners here in Asteria. To make matters better, some of them were cooperating with the Furling Military, actually cooperating, not just the bare minimum needed for interactions regarding the running of their colony.[2] One such Jaffa was Imsety, an older man and one of the two chief commanders under Heru'ur on that mission, though not a first prime or a former first prime.

(Imsety was an interesting name for a Jaffa. In Egyptian mythology, Imsety was one of the four sons of Horus and the guardian of the canopic jar which contained the liver.)

He doesn't sound like he's quite gotten to the point of denying the divinity of the Goa'uld, but he's getting there.

All Harcesis—what is the plural? Harceses? It sounds vaguely Greek—were forbidden by the System Lords under pain of death, Imsety revealed. The reason they were forbidden had something to do with hidden knowledge that should be kept secret. He did not know more, and even that much Imsety was not supposed to know. Apparently there had been some kerfuffle at Ra's court some years earlier (before we blew him up) when one of Ra's underlings had created a Harcesis. Even among the Goa'uld, people talk, and Imsety had overheard things in the aftermath of that event.[3]

Harcesis.

"Hidden, secret knowledge."

With more research and more questions later, including to Amaunet, that one clue was enough to put the pieces together. A Harcesis bore forbidden knowledge: the genetic memory passed down from his parents, both of whom had to be hosts.

What does that mean for Shifu? No one knew yet.

Was that sweet little boy, growing like a weed, going to grow up to turn into a galactic megalomanic with delusions of grandeur? No one knew.

What did it even mean, what did it even entail for a human mind to bear the weight of the genetic memory of a Goa'uld lineage? No one knew yet. Was madness and megalomania the predetermined end? No one knew.

What was that going to mean for Shifu growing up? No one knew.

Am I going to watch him change? No one knew.

No one knew anything … well, almost anything … yet, and that lack of knowledge was the hardest part.

The Furlings healers, however, seemed to take the new bomb dropped in their lap in stride. After everything they had faced during the Great War, Daniel did vaguely wonder at one point if anything could phase them. Regular reports on Shifu's health and behavior as well as regular non-invasive tests, including brain scans, became vital.

The whole situation reminded Daniel of what some parents had to go through watching their kids be diagnosed with some horrible disease and have to face an uncertain future.

The decision, however, to have Shifu stay on Abydos remained, at least for the moment. With the Stargate, healers could go back and forth quickly and regularly without trouble, and the healers did not seem to think that, at least for now, Shifu needed to be closer to the healers as long as he was under the regular care of healers. Kasuf knew to bring him to Uslisgas if something went wrong.

Is genetic memory even accessible to a human with no symbiote? No one knew.

But Daniel (and the Furlings) had every intention of finding out.

Finding the Free Jaffa and, most of all, the Tok'ra just got very personal for another reason for Daniel.


In the ensuing months after Abydos Daniel also continued to devote a considerable amount of his time, when he was not working with Sujanha at Headquarters or visiting Sha're and Shifu on weekends (or briefly at other times, when possible, especially after the Harcesis bombshell), to studying of the Furling language, an extremely complicated tongue. Those tasks kept him busy enough that studying books for hours daily was hard, but immersion—hearing the language all around him—still allowed him to advance quickly. Ruarc and Sujanha were also happy to assist most any time he had questions. By the time he had been on Uslisgas for around five months, Daniel had gained a solid grasp of written Furling and near-fluency in spoken Furling, though some of the seemingly endless contextual variations of certain words still escaped him.

Preparations for war continued slowly but surely. All over headquarters and especially in Sujanha's offices, there were many discussions most every day about supply lines, cache planets, available allied contingents, weapons and equipment, and any other topic remotely related to preparing for war and supplying an army and a fleet for a war in a totally separate galaxy. The logistics to even make such a thing possible were mind-bogglingly complex.

Although their allies are organizing supplies and weapons for their own contingents.

All the Furlings have to do is make sure everything gets coordinated, which is a massive task all on its own.

And although for a galactic empire, the size of the Furling army … for whom most of these preparations were concerned … with the ships, the fleet has it a little easier … was actually quite small. According to Sujanha, the Furlings were committing 500,000 men—a little more than half of their active-duty troops to the fight, numbers which would then be increased by contingents of varying size from their allies. That meant the army probably had between 800,000 and one million active-duty soldiers. Those numbers had sent Daniel down a research rabbit-hole some weeks earlier. 800,000 soldiers, that number was well-less than the size of the United States military, though the Furlings had a population of about 600 million, twice the size or so of the United States, spread across the galaxy.

Once his Furling had advanced enough for Daniel to look more into the Great War, he promptly regretted his curiosity. The reason the Furlings' population was only 600 million and their military comparatively small? The military and civilian death toll for the Great War for the Furlings alone, not even counting all of their allies and the entire civilizations that had been wiped from existence, made the death toll of World War 2, the deadliest known war in earth's history, look like a minor uprising. More than half of the entire population of the Furlings had died during the war. More than half.

The death toll for all the peoples, soldiers and civilians, combined was in the billions. The billions.

Reading the death toll made Daniel feel sick.

Wars that lasted millennia and crisscrossed an entire galaxy were a whole new ball game, which nothing on earth had prepared him for.

The numbers of those MIA were, in their own way, as horrifying as (or perhaps even more horrifying than) the numbers of the dead, given Sujanha's comments that alluded to their enemy conducting human experimentation. For most, there had been no rescue, no escape except for death. The Furlings were still doing archaeological excavations on worlds where those atrocities had taken place, sifting through debris from mass grave after mass grave after mass grave to bring home every missing soldier that they could.

If I have time, I'll be out there in a heart-beat if they'll let me.

Little progress, meanwhile, had been made in the search for Bra'tac and the rebel Jaffa. After their original discussion where Daniel had told Sujanha about them, Supreme Commander Anarr had soon dispatched many pairs of scouts to the Milky-Way, equipped with what intelligence the Furling military had, to start sowing seeds of rebellion where possible and to search for the Free Jaffa where possible.

No one wanted to risk exposing the fifth column within the Goa'uld Empire. Expose as in lead the Goa'uld right to them.

Both Supreme Commanders, along with their principal lieutenants, had all agreed that it was too risky to attempt to infiltrate Chu'lak to seek Bra'tac directly, if he were even still there by that point. Daniel was well aware that his intelligence was out of date. Even cloaked scouts would be exposed coming through the Stargate by the ripples in the event horizon … if the guards were paying attention. While the scouts had learned much valuable intelligence for the war effort during their multi-month search, they so far had discovered few leads as to the Free Jaffa.

But (unbeknownst to Daniel), not for long.


28th of Ihom, Spring, 6545 A.S
(August 25, 1998)
Uslisgas, Asteria Galaxy

Today was Daniel's morning off. With three aids now, Sujanha did not have need of all of them all the time—for the moment, not that that is likely to last once the war starts—and it was Daniel's turn to have the morning off. Unsurprisingly, he had elected to spend his morning in the Great Library. He had made his way straight there after eating breakfast with the Commander and had happily ensconced himself at his reading nook to pour through more books and put his newfound knowledge of the Furling language to good use. The Great Library was massive with more books than he could read in a lifetime, but Ragnar, Ruarc, and Sujanha had all given him suggestions on what to read first to help him get up to speed.

The books in the Great Library from the general browsing as well as perusing of the catalog that he had done covered almost every topic imaginable: histories of the Furlings, Ancients, Asgard, Nox, Ohnes (!), several other races from Asteria, as well as many species name Daniel had never heard of; biographies of major figures from a multitude of races; theological texts and treatises, though none from the Furlings; philosophy and ethics, especially regarding conduct during wartime; literature, including some works of fictions, epic poems and odes, as well as other types of poetry; and engineering, technical, and scientific treatises, some of which were so advanced that Daniel felt like he was trying to read an entirely separate language just glancing at them.

When it came to books written by their allies, the Furlings collected everything. Absolutely everything. It made sense, though. Some races had been utterly wiped out during the Great War, and now all that remained of them were the texts in this library and the memories of the living. And even the Furlings did not live forever. The Great Library and its collection were all that stood between some races and their loss from history.

However, the Furlings' own writings—so a librarian had explained to him at length and so he was discovering from his own perusing—were mainly of the historical variety (including biographical) or the philosophical/ethical or the scientific. Of fiction, Furlings read little and wrote even less. The same went for poetry, generally, though Daniel learned that multiple lays/epics had been written concerning the Great War and the unnumberable dead. On theology, the Furlings also had written basically nothing. They were obviously religious from the occasional reference to their "Maker," but their religion did not seem to be an organized one with institutions or major texts like Christianity or Judaism or Islam or other major religions on earth.

The Great Library was also a wonderful place for people watching, as almost every race in Asteria seemed to be present there one day or another. The occasional Asgard, along with members of a handful of other races that seemed non-native to Asteria, also wandered through from time to time. Unlike in the Milky-Way, humans were the minority, and the races of Asteria and Ida ran the gambit from human or near-human to humanoid but very inhuman appearance-wise to four-footed but sentient and about everything in between, including a few that seemed to fall into the who-the-h**l-knows category.

The prime example of the last category was the Iprysh, the strange and mysterious guards at headquarters and the High Council Chambers. And probably at yet more places I haven't been yet. They all wore suits of high-tech Iron-Man like armor, and Daniel had never seen them outside of their armor. Or are they the armor? Were the Iprysh mechanical life-forms? Or a race who used or had to use those armored suits for reasons unbeknownst to Daniel?

He was not exactly sure.

I'm not sure anyone actually knows for sure.

Curiosity about the Iprysh had him falling down a research rabbit hole one morning some weeks earlier. Their homeworld, Skeshan, was an ice world with temperatures that commonly made Antarctica look warm. As a result, it was impossible for most races to travel there, forcing the Iprysh to travel off-world to meet with their allies … where they were always seen in their who had traveled to Skeshan had never seen or never revealed the true appearance of the Iprysh, if indeed the Iprysh were seen outside their armor on their homeworld at all.

Because of the lack of knowledge about the true appearance of the Iprysh, truly ridiculous rumors had developed over the years. Some said that the Iprysh had no bone structure and needed their armor to protect their bodies and to give them a non-horrifying, globular shape. Others said, instead, that the Iprysh were some sort of bodiless consciousness who required a physical form (via the armor) to interact with their allies. Others, more sensibly, believed that the Iprysh who probably had forms adapted for the extremely cold and harsh conditions of their homeworld required the armor to protect their bodies from milder conditions on other planets, similar to how the Etrairs required breathing masks when not on their homeworld.

Among the humanoid but not-at-all human fell most of the races in Asteria, and they all had interesting characteristics and quirks that made learning more about them fascinating. The Etrairs and most of the Nafshi (like Jaax), one of Sujanha's other two aids, were so similar in appearance to Wookies, save for their breathing masks, as to be eerie.

Star Wars didn't have any basis in reality … did it?

Teal'c would be quite happy if it did, I think, as many times as he's watched that series.

The draconian Dovahkiin were rather terrifying in appearance, a cross between dragons, gargoyles, and probably a few other things. Yet when Daniel actually spoke to them from time to time, he found them to be some of the most pleasant, congenial, helpful, and respectful people he had talked to yet, always happy to share stories or answer questions. Scrupulously exact in their dealings, they were craftsman and lovers of knowledge with a fascination of riddles, the more complex the better. Such things had never been Daniel's forte, but he was able to drudge up several from memory to share.

The morning passed quickly, and it was coming about time to wrap up and go buy lunch before heading to work when Daniel, standing in the stacks pursuing a book on Furling architecture, heard hurried footsteps. He looked up and around with some surprise, double-checking what was going on around him. A young man (human) in what passed for a military uniform among the Furlings was coming down the main hallway that bisected that wing of the library into two long rows and was quickly scanning people's faces, looking for someone in particular, it seemed. As soon as he caught sight of Daniel, he made a beeline towards him.

"Doctor Jackson," he said in rapid Furling, "You are summoned to Headquarters. The Commander needs to speak with you."


Sujanha had been having a good day so far. Had with its past completed nature, regarding the good portion of her day, was the operative word. It was half-way through the fourth week of the month, and the day had started out normally enough. With three aids, Sujanha did not have need of all of them all the time, and it was Daniel's turn to have the morning off. Unsurprisingly, given his new grasp of the language, he had elected to spend his morning in the Great Library.

She had opened her home to the young Midgardian out of a sense of duty, welcoming an exile who would have struggled to find his footing on a new world otherwise when no one apart from her and her bodyguards spoke his language. That being said, over the past months, she had come to enjoy his company greatly. Daniel was an interesting young man, possessed of a complex soul. He was kind, generous, devoted to his wife and son, absolutely brilliant and extremely inquisitive, and yet somewhat moody at times and prone to bouts of single-minded focus at his research that kept him up to all hours for sometimes days on end, especially with projects that were near to his heart as with his wife's imprisonment and his son's uncertain fate.

For the last forty-five years, Sujanha's life had been rather repetitive. Her health had been nearly shattered by the end of the Great War, and thirty-two years of convalescence briefly on Gaia and then on Drehond had restored enough of her health for her to return to the fleet. That did not mean, however, that she felt well, and getting through each day, getting out of bed every morning was often a struggle. The pain in her limbs, her joints, the trembling of her paw, the tiredness, all of it was a reminder that she should have died in 6048 A.S.

It never got easier wondering why she had lived when so many others had died, when her brother-son had died terrified and in agony.

Sometimes only her driving sense of duty and loyalty toward the thousands under her command gave her the strength and determination to push through. Her days were repetitive—day after day of rising when pain drove her from sleep, working as long as her strength held, and eating what she could when she had the stomach for it—a routine only interrupted by those rare days when she was almost or actually bedridden. Those days she longed for sleep—even sleep interrupted by dark dreams or bittersweet dreams of the Honored Ones[4] or of the friends who were lost to her—if only to make the time pass faster and spare her from the dark thoughts that came when the pain was worst.

The punishing schedule she had kept all these years was certainly in the end to take years off her life—and she already knew, the healers had told her before her departure from Drehond, that she would die very young—but the driving nature of her work and the horrific among of work to do in the wake of the Great War, rebuilding a shattered military and galaxy, had left her little time for regrets in the wake of her untimely return from Drehond and little time for dwelling on her losses or her own pain and weakness. There was just a never-ending amount of work to be done for people of all classes from the humblest farmer—extremely vital for without food no military could survive—to the king himself.

Daniel had brought a breath of new air into Sujanha's life, shaken up the repetitive structure of her days with his kindness, inquisitiveness, and interest in everything. When asked the right question or when on a favorite topic, Daniel could talk animatedly for as long as someone would listen, and he always had interesting questions to ask about the Furlings and his research. His questions seemed never ending, not that Sujanha minded. She liked his inquisitive nature, though the memories of Odin, her brother-son, lost too soon, that those talks sometimes provoked, made her sad. Her relationship with Daniel was simpler in a way, unfraught by the weight of years and losses unnumberable. Having Daniel in her home also made her not work so late, for which her aids and her bodyguards seemed eternally grateful.

The morning had been going well.

Daniel had expounded over breakfast about what he had hoped to look at in the library that morning, his hands sometimes waving around to illustrate his points. He had veered off onto tangents, as he often did, about the "people-watching" that he often did and all he was learning just by watching and listening. They had parted ways after breakfast. Daniel had headed off to the city on foot, a chance to get some exercise while he was at it, and Sujanha had beamed to Headquarters.

After a somewhat boring but uneventful morning, problems started appearing at her office door, and that was the end of a good, quiet day. Jaax appeared first in her office doorway, tablet in hand and apologetic look in his dark eyes. His mask was off for the moment—as a half-blood, he didn't have to wear his breathing mask continually—and the set of his mouth showed his unease. "Supreme Commander Anarr is on his way down to see you. A message or messenger came through the Stargate not long ago. Something went wrong with the scouts in Avalon."

Oh, stars!

Sujanha immediately felt her stomach tighten. How many more names to add to the Wall? Too many had died on her watch, and her mind had a way of jumping to worst-case scenarios. All he said was that something went wrong. He did not say what went wrong. Yet, it was serious enough that Anarr was coming down without giving her more warning than this.

"Very well. I thank you," Sujanha replied, her gaze returning to her open reports and papers still to be signed so that she could start closing down things for the moment, but Jaax remained, "Yes? Another message?"

Jaax nodded, frowning harder, "Whatever happened, it got Stargate operations …" He paused, obviously searching for a descriptor, "flustered, so what I'm about to tell you does not make perfect sense. Around the same time as the news from Avalon, an envoy from Drehond also arrived, either the High Princess Zulaar, her eldest son, or … possibly both of them," he made a disgusted face that exposed an array of very pointed teeth, "They stated that they needed to speak to you on Fleet business."

Possibly … both … of them!

Wonderful! She thought sarcastically.

It had been strange, at first, but now it was just tragic in a way the wealth of emotions that the mention of Zulaar's name could provoke in Sujanha's mind. A lifetime ago when Sujanha had been growing up on Drehond, Zulaar had been her surrogate younger sister—Zin's only sibling—who had delighted in following Sujanha around, calling her "elder sister" and showing off how she was learning to fly or do aerial tricks, displaying the results of her latest crafting lesson, or asking for stories.

That was a lifetime ago.

All goodwill between Sujanha and the Dovahkiin Royal Family had shattered in the space of a day forty-five years ago. Reeling from unexpected news from her healers and in great physical pain, Sujanha had made one of the hardest decisions of her life in the attempt to do the right thing for Zin. Everything had spiraled out of control, and that one decision had cost her everything: her surrogate younger sister, those who had raised her for longer than her own blood parents, her dearest friend who would have been more if things had been different, and her home. But going down the road of those thoughts only brought pain and self-recrimination, which was worse than the cutting politeness in Zulaar's voice and the burning hatred in her eyes.

"Commander?" Jaax prompted gently.

Focus. You have work to do.

What's done is done. The past is the past.

"Unless whatever she …," oh, for stars' sake, "they," singular or plural, "need can wait, whatever matters Elder-Brother needs to discuss with me comes first." (Part of Sujanha really hoped that whatever Zulaar, her son, or they both needed could not wait, because she was not sure that she felt up to dealing with either of them on top of whatever issue was going on in Avalon.) She paused, "Are my High Commanders on-world?"

Jaax paused and got a far-away look in his eyes. Her aid possessed a prodigious memory that he used to great effect, keeping her office running and tracking where her chief commanders were at any particular time. "No," he shook his head after a moment, "But Fleet Commander Aterra is. I saw her on my way up this morning."

Aterra would be an excellent choice to deal with them. She was one of the Kushik, a half-blood Dovahkiin-Furling hybrid, and the Dovahkiin envoy(s) might appreciate dealing with one of their own people if Sujanha was unavailable. Zulaar, at least, would probably prefer NOT to speak to me.

Ragnar appeared in the doorway at that moment, "High Commander Algar is on-world."

"No, he isn't," was Jaax's immediate, affronted response.

"Yes, he is," Ragnar replied. "I saw him in his office half-an-hour ago when I went for tea."

(Jaax scowled, obviously annoyed at his memory failing him. Though considering that Sujanha didn't think he had left the office for at least two hours, he could not have known.)

Algar was also one of the Kushik and a higher rank than Aterra in case they get offended at getting shunted off to be a Fleet Commander's problem. At least, they won't be my problem. It was at moments like these that Sujanha gave thanks that the debacle on Drehond had somehow not lost her the support of commanders like Algar and Aterra. Some Dovahkiin in the lower ranks had left the service, but Algar and Aterra had remained steadfastly loyal.

Sujanha pinched her eyes shut. A throbbing headache was forming behind her forehead, and the worst was still yet to come. "I don't have time for this." Or the strength or the patience or the stomach. "Send the High Princess or her son, or both of them, to Algar. Take a message down to him first. Give him my regrets for dumping another thing on his to-do-list, but tell him to deal with this, whatever this is. If he does not have the time, send them to Aterra."

Jaax nodded and withdrew. Ragnar, still in the doorway, sent Sujanha a sympathetic look and then also withdrew. He and his brother had an inkling of what had gone wrong, but on Uslisgas, only Sujanha, Anarr, and the High King knew the full story. In a small act of mercy, Sariiz, the Great Queen of the Dovahkiin, had kept the details of the matter that had sundered Sujanha from her second-family permanently locked down. Even Vaazrodiiv, the only member of the Dovahkiin court who kept contact with her and polite contact at that, a fact that sometimes seemed like a minor miracle, did not know the full story. It was known by many that something had gone terribly wrong, leaving Sujanha veritably shunned, an outcast from the court in which she had spent almost her entire childhood, but no one knew why exactly.

Sujanha was widely enough respected that there was no open commenting or speculation on what had happened, though a few rumors had reached her ears over the years. Most of those at Headquarters had automatically taken Sujanha's side, even though I was in the wrong, taking great affront at her treatment by the Dovahkiin, which was generally on the barely polite edge of hostile, and did their best to shield her.

Anarr entered within the next minute, movements perfectly controlled but with a look in his eyes like thunder. The sight of her elder-brother so soon after the stirred-up memories of her time on Drehond were yet another reminder of their complicated relationship. Sujanha trusted her brother without reservation, wanted the best for him, and would die for him without a shadow of reservation. Yet … the two had grown up apart, spending only twenty years together as children until the danger grew too great, and they were sent to safety on separate worlds. The war had stifled communication, and Sujanha could count the remembered interactions between them in the following 230 years on the claws of her paws. Sujanha and Anarr had been close as younglings, but their childhood separation had created a gulf between them.

That first reunion … I barely recognized him, could barely remember what he looked like.

I did not even know the sound of his voice.

Their first reunion had been awkward, but under fire and war and death and staggering responsibility, they had reforged their relationship. Their bond would never have been the deep and easy friendship … it was more than just that … which she had shared with Zinjotnax … which you destroyed, but it had been something. However, that had only lasted for about six-hundred years before Sujanha had been poisoned and Anarr's first-born son had died. And in the aftermath of that, the gulf between them had reopened and deepened, formality replacing any closeness between them. And with her brother-son's death, any hope of time forging a stronger bond ended.

And yet …

Anarr was still her brother.

And she loved him, still did, even though any show of closeness in public was more of a front than anything else.

At least we can still work together.

The two worked well together at headquarters and on the battlefield. Long years of fighting together had given them a deep understanding of each other's strategies and tactics, so much so that they could regularly accurately predict what the other's movements and decisions would be. Their interactions on a personal level were few and far between, aside from polite inquiries into the other's well-being. In most ways, Sujanha was closer to her bodyguards by far than her own brother. Personal visits, even to see the children, were nonexistent. She had enough weight on her shoulders without her law-sister's anger and disdain. Could I have prevented Odin's death? After so many years ... and my so few visits to their home … and how we can't stand each other, Sujanha knew that her brother could not NOT know, though he had never confirmed that knowledge … or put a stop to his wife's actions. His matching slide into formality in their dealings only confirmed the rift in Sujanha's mind.

Does he blame me, also?

It was one of her deepest fears that Anarr actually agreed with his wife and blamed Sujanha for his son's death, blamed her as she blamed herself. As a child growing up on Drehond, Sujanha had nearly idolized her brother, or rather, the idea of her brother that she could barely remember. Though their relationship was fractured beyond repair, there was a part of Sujanha, which felt that she could not bear it if Anarr laid the fault for his boy's death on her shoulders, too.

Anarr dropped into a seat opposite Sujanha. His ears were pinned flat to his head, and the look of thunderous anger in his eyes had not abated. By the stars, what happened? For as long as she had known Elder-Brother, his anger had always run hot like the fires of Drehond, while hers generally ran as cold as the ice-fields of Skeshan.

Like for Anarr, displays of anger, like at the High Council meeting at the time of Daniel's arrival, were rare. She was judged by an exacting standard, more-so for the last 45 years since her return. Some of the High Council wanted her unseated for varied reasons, Janth being the principal opposition. The events on Drehond … my fault, all my fault, I ruined it all for all my good intensions … had drawn her more unwanted attention. If I had chosen differently, might some still live? It was an old fear that had taken root in her heart long-years before, blooming in the darkest of night when pain kept her from sleeping. Sometimes Sujanha wondered what a life of peace would be like without the shadow of war or politics.

It was hard to imagine what that might be like.

"…my scouts!" Anarr was speaking, had been speaking while Sujanha's mind wandered again. Leave thoughts like that for the night. There is work to be done.

"Forgive me, Elder-Brother," Sujanha interrupted carefully before he could continue, "My mind wandered." It made her cringe internally even to admit the fact, although only her brother, her aids, and her bodyguards were present and could hear, "Would you start again?"

For a bare moment a look of … something … flashed across Anarr's eyes, a touch of frustration perhaps, before he gave a sharp nod, took a deep breath, and restarted in a calmer voice, "As you know, our scouts have made little progress in finding and contacting the Rebel Jaffa or Bra'tac."

Sujanha made a noise of affirmation. She had spent hours reading the reports with the information sent back so far by the scouts. There had been much of use, but not what she desperately wanted: leads on the Rebel Jaffa.

"An hour ago, one of my scouts, Jeluk, one of the Getae, returned through the Stargate, injured."

Just one! Oh, stars.

All the scouts had gone out in pairs.

Jeluk.

She knew that name.

He was one of Anarr's most trusted scouts, though he was young and had only seen service in the latter years of the war. He and his brother Navok looked human, but a near-ancestor of theirs had been from one of the long-lived races, and both had seen more than a hundred years. Sujanha had met them both more than once. They were twins, rarely parted from each other.

He would never have come back without Navok.

"They were attacked?" Sujanha asked, as a wave of sorrow swept across her. Death had always been a close companion. Too many had died for the sake of the Empire because of her orders, as much as she had struggled to bring every soldier home. Her own slowly declining health kept death close, and every loss, she felt deeply, "Can anything be done to retrieve Navok's body for burial? For his brother's sake?"

No victory comes without sacrifice, but … what a cost.

Not one more name to add to the lists of the Lost, please, Maker. That list is long enough.

Anarr's jaw tightened. The sound of his teeth grinding was almost audible. "Navok isn't dead." Thank the Maker. "Jeluk and Navok were ambushed by Jaffa belonging to Apophis, who discovered one of their hideouts after they helped a group of villagers. In the ambush, Jeluk was wounded, and both would have been overcome except that a group of Rebel Jaffa under Bra'tac rescued them." They found us, instead of us finding them. Interesting. "Their help for the visitors and the information they could provide, as well as Dr. Jackson's name and some details about him, seemed to reassure Master Bra'tac that Jeluk and Navok were not System Lord spies intent on driving his people from their dens."

"Is he willing to meet?" Sujanha asked.

"Yes," her brother replied, "Master Bra'tac sent Jeluk back, since he was injured, to bring word of his willingness to meet and to identify a world to meet on."

"Navok?"

"Still with the Rebel Jaffa. They do not trust us completely," there was grudging respect in Anarr's voice, "They would be fools to, yet. Master Bra'tac is keeping Navok with him until we can meet. His safety is assured meanwhile."

I cannot imagine Jeluk was happy to leave his brother.

"How badly is Jeluk injured?" Sujanha asked.

"A burn on his leg, possibly a near-miss from a staff weapon, and some broken ribs. A couple of nights in the Halls, and all should be well. As in pain as he was, he was almost more upset about having to leave his brother." Such injuries were more severe for a human or a near-human than a half-blood or full-blooded Furling. We could survive injuries that would kill a human. Even Sujanha, who was known for her weaker constitution because of her Asgardian blood, would have considered such injuries as comparatively minor. Once. Not so now.

"Who does Master Bra'tac wish to meet? And what is the address?"

A swipe of one paw brought up a holographic screen, and Anarr jotted down the address and shoved the screen across to his sister. The sooner the better. Bring Navok home. Daniel had said Master Bra'tac would make a vital ally. Using a hostage to try to ensure the safety of a meeting was a well-known tactic, one that Sujanha could understand given the circumstances. I'm not sure I'd ever use it myself, but I understand the use. That did not mean Sujanha or Anarr trusted Bra'tac yet, nor did they like having one of their men in harm's way.

I don't know this address. Is it on the Abydos cartouche? A few quick motions set a search running for any information on that world in the Furling database.

Anarr's ears twitched. "He wants Doctor Jackson to come, as well as Jeluk and Navok's commander. Just those two."

Just the two of them …

"How many men does Master Bra'tac have?"

"Unclear."

Wonderful.

Now Sujanha's ears twitched. She had grown quite fond of Daniel these last months. He reminded her of her brother-son, though she was fond of him for his own sake, and part of her riled at the thought of sending him into danger. We were betrayed on an allied world. That was the hardest part in finding friends among those who served her. At some point, her orders would send them into danger. She had lost so many people in the course of her life: father and mother, though they were but dim memories; her brother-son; even Zin, though not too death; and so many others.

Just Daniel and a commander. Hmm … there might be ways around that depending on how closely the Stargate is watched.

"Doctor Jackson's presence will be half the proof of us speaking truth," Sujanha noted, "The scout's commander … that gives us great freedom in choosing who to send." The scouts were Anarr's soldiers but reported as much to Sujanha as to her brother, so taking a loose interpretation of 'Commander', we can pick about any commander in the Fleet or the Army. "Assuming we are willing to meet …" and not just to go rescue our scout.

"I think the reward is worth the potential risk," Anarr replied cautiously. His earlier anger had faded, or at least come back under his control, the longer the two spoke. "But I would be interested in hearing your aid's opinion. Is he here?"

"No, this is his morning off. He should be down at the Great Library. Asik!"

Asik appeared in the open doorway at Sujanha's call. "Yes, Commander?"

"Have a messenger sent down to the Great Library to find Doctor Jackson. I need to speak with him."

"Of course, Commander!" Asik bowed and returned to his desk, out of sight.

Beaming technology meant that getting from headquarters to the Great Library and back was quickly done, but finding someone within the miles of corridors and thousands of shelves was more time-consuming. It was nearly half-an-hour before the door between the outer office and the hall opened, and a few moments later, Daniel appeared in the office doorway, eyes wide behind his glasses and expression concerned.

I don't make a habit of summoning him during his hours off. This is the first time, I think.

Sujanha waved him to a seat with a kindly look. "Thank you for coming. I am sorry to have to interrupt your morning off."

"Do not concern yourself," Daniel replied in Furling. His accent still needs a little work, and he sounds like he swallowed a court protocol book. My brother's presence doesn't require that level of formality. "I had almost concluded my research for the morning and would have returned soon. What has occurred?" Maybe my brother makes him uneasy, though. At least Long-Claw isn't here. I think he is terrified of him.

Sujanha quickly outlined the recent events with the scouts and their encounter with Master Bra'tac and his followers. Daniel listened quietly, his head cocked slightly, and occasionally reached up to fuss with the position of his glasses. That seemed to be a nervous gesture.

When Sujanha had finished explaining what had happened, Daniel was silent for a moment and then asked, "Are you asking for a threat assessment?"

Of a sort.

"Yes," Anarr replied, "I am inclined to believe the reward is worth the risk, but you have more knowledge of Master Bra'tac than us, and I would know your opinion about the matter. An alliance with the Rebel Jaffa would be of great benefit to us, but not at any cost."

Daniel nodded and was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowing again. "When SG1 and I first met Bra'tac, he was very suspicious of us. Bra'tac is an old, cunning warrior and an honorable one, but the rebel movement among the Jaffa is small, and Bra'tac is one of the principal leaders, if not the main one currently. If something happened to Bra'tac, it could spell disaster for them. Bra'tac wants to meet. He said that already. An alliance could strengthen his cause, but he is going to be a wary of a double-cross or a trap, just as you are."

Caution is wise as long as it does not descend into paranoia.

Wariness is wise considering the System Lords.

Sujanha glanced over at Anarr, a question in her eyes. Are we willing to do this? There was a long moment's pause before he gave the slightest of nods. Yes. His eyes flicked toward Daniel. If he is willing.

"Are you willing to go, Doctor Jackson?" Sujanha asked.

"Yes." There was no hesitation, which reassured her somewhat.

"How likely is it that the Stargate will be watched?" Anarr asked.

"Almost certainly. Bra'tac is too experienced to make the mistake of not keeping watch," Daniel replied, "Why?"

Sujanha explained the possibility of sending cloaked scouts through the Stargate, along with Daniel and whichever commander was chosen to go. That strategy, she noted, only worked if the Stargate was not closely watched. Cloaking devices were not foolproof, and the ripples in the event horizon of the Stargate would give away a cloaked scout's presence. (That tidbit brought a very intrigued light to his eyes.)

"Then the only matter left to discuss," said Anarr, "is to decide which commander to send."

"All Master Bra'tac said to Jeluk regarding this matter," rumbled Ragnar from his position in the doorway, "was that he wanted to meet Jeluk's commander. That means anyone from the army or fleet could go … except for either of you … with all due respect." The last statement was tacked on as an afterthought.

Sujanha bit her lip to keep from laughing or showing any sign of her amusement. There had been no reason to perpetuate sharp distinctions between rank and tedious formalities between her and her bodyguards, considering the time they spent together. She appreciated their blunt straightforwardness. The two usually remembered to be a more formal in front of her brother.

Sujanha understood why Ragnar had said what he had said. First, it would be unbridled insanity for either of them to go, anyway. Though both Sujanha and Anarr would have been willing to go—they never gave an order that they were unwilling to carry out themselves—neither of them would have gone, even Sujanha, who was sometimes critiqued for being too hands-on as the senior-most commander within the Fleet. The risks were too high. Second, those risks would have recalled to mind the darkest days of the Great War when high rank, especially within the Army, was a veritable death sentence. The Enemy had gone to great lengths to target high-ranking officers, an understandable strategy, which they had just gone about cruelly.

Not that in that war, any of us expected to live that long or live to see the end.

"What rank then?"

Whom we choose will somewhat depend on who is quickly available.

The sooner we get this done … safely … the better.

"Fleet Commander or Commander?" Suggested Anarr.

Sujanha shook her head, "No. Too high ranking." She shot her brother a significant look. As the highest powers within the military, they made life and death decisions that affected everyone under their command, and they had to plan for any eventualities, including the ones where the meeting with the Rebel Jaffa ended badly. At least we are not confined to those who speak English anymore. English had been entered into the translation matrix of the translators so anyone could go as long as their primary language was itself in the translation matrix. "Wing Commander or Knight Commander?"

High enough ranking not to be insulting, not that he knows our command structure.

After a moment's thought, Anarr nodded approval. "Mine or yours, then?"

"Mine," replied Sujanha definitively after a moment's thought.

Anarr shrugged and agreed. "Which one then?"

That would take a moment's thought. Sujanha had a number of Wing Commanders, not all of whom she would send into a situation like this. Some were relatively inexperienced, promoted to their positions near the end of the Great War or since the Great War. Some had families with underage children, and though the military always did its best to care for the families of the dead, better to avoid the problem altogether. She ran down the list in her mind.

"Where is Agar currently?" Sujanha asked, her gaze flicking over to Jaax, who was standing along the back-wall. Agar was an Akush, a half-Furling, half-human, who looked close enough to human to make him a better choice for first-contact with the Rebel Jaffa, who are probably unused to non-human peoples.

"In Asteria," Jaax replied, "His ship is at Ocelum currently. He isn't on leave, so he's probably there or here." Ocelum was another world in the same system as Uslisgas and was used as a shipyard by the Fleet. "Shall I send for him?"

"Please," replied Sujanha, "and send a message to Njall in the Milky-Way, I need to speak to him, as well." If we cannot send guards with them, a ship in orbit would be wise.

"Of course," Jaax said. He bowed and withdrew.

Sujanha turned her attention to Ruarc. "Please take Daniel to get supplies. See that he has what he needs."

"Yes, lady," said Ruarc and motioned for Daniel to follow him.


Ruarc led Daniel silently from Headquarters and south along the Citadel until they reached a heavily fortified building that looked like it might have been built to withstand a siege. Well, considering the Great War, it might have been built to do just that. The massive building, which Ruarc revealed was used as a temporary barracks, a supply depot, and a training facility, was much busier than even Headquarters seemed to be, with people from every race in Asteria that Daniel had met yet and a number he hadn't yet come across coming and going.

Waitt … are those gills? Whatever species they had just passed, they weren't Ohnes.

Ruarc led Daniel up and down several hallways until they reached a small staircase that led down two levels into a large multi-level chamber, with other staircases that led between sub-levels. The level that they were on was subdivided into smaller sub-sections by see-through partitions. The rows of staff-weapons along one wall made it clear that they were in an armory.

"Over here, Daniel," called Ruarc. Daniel had stopped walking unconsciously while looking around and around, but Ruarc had gone on ahead and was standing by a storage rack full of gauntlets like Sujanha and her bodyguards … and most every soldier I've seen … wore. "Pull up one sleeve, please."

"Coming." Daniel walked over, taking off his jacket and then tugging his right sleeve up to his elbow.

The gauntlets, when not on a person, were formed of what appeared to be two pieces of metal the width of his forearm that hinged on one side and fastened on the other. There were no visible buttons or moving parts or control mechanisms. Sam would love to see this. (There was so much on Uslisgas that Sam would love to see, so many things that he had filed away to tell her about … whenever I see them again.)

"You'll feel a slight prick," warned Ruarc, pressing one open gauntlet to Daniel's right forearm.

The prick when it came was so slight that Daniel almost didn't feel it, but he rubbed away the slight sting automatically. "What was that for?" He asked curiously.

"These gauntlets are now coded to your signature. You are the only one who can use them now," Ruarc replied, "You can pull your sleeve back down now."

Coded to my DNA?

Ruarc handed the gauntlets to Daniel one at a time. All the gauntlets seemed one size, as far as his eyes could tell. Yet, as he put them onto each arm, the gauntlets seemed to shrink to fit to his arm exactly, and then the seams and hinges disappeared, making the gauntlets appear to be made entirely out of one piece of metal.

"Whoa!" Daniel exclaimed in surprise, "Uh, how do I take them back off?" Sam would have kittens if she could see this.

"Put one finger at the top of where the seam was, press in slightly, and then drag your finger down. That will make the seam reappear, but if you don't take the gauntlet off, the seam will disappear again in a few seconds."

Daniel followed the instructions and watched with wonderment as the metal seam flowed in and out of sight. "How does it do that?"

"Nanotechnology," replied Ruarc, "though I don't really understand the exact principles of how it works."

"Amazing."

Sam would love this.

"Focus," chided Ruarc gently, "Your gauntlets serve, most importantly, for this mission, as a personal shield and an emergency beacon, though there are other functions. These functions can be accessed in two ways. The first is through touch, which is slower and requires using the holographic interface, a poor choice in an emergency. The neural interface is faster once you become accustomed to it." Neural … I'm controlling it with my mind?! "Never activate the beacon except in the direst of situation where you have no alternative. When the beacon is activated, it transmits a warning that goes off at headquarters and on all nearby ships. Unless we are overrun, aid will always come. The personal shield, however, can be activated on any occasion. Using it to keep yourself dry in a rain-storm works just as well as to use it to hold back staff blasts."

So no low-kinetic energy weakness then?

"How do I activate the shield mentally?" Daniel asked.

"Close your eyes, and imagine yourself surrounded by a shield. Focus on that."

Daniel closed his eyes and focused, trying to draw up the image of himself surrounded by a bubble. After a few moments, he felt a slight shiver, a tingling sensation, and then Ruarc exclaimed, "It's up."

Daniel reopened his eyes. Everything seemed the same. "Nothing looks any different." He noted, puzzled.

"The shield is invisible unless it's under pressure," Ruarc explained. To illustrate, he slowly reached out one paw toward Daniel. The movement was unobstructed until his paw was a few inches away from Daniel's shoulder. Suddenly, his paw stopped moving, and a blue energy field appeared surrounding Daniel's body.

"This shape is called a bubble shield," Ruarc explained, "The name is unfortunately rather undignified, but it is descriptive enough that the name stuck. The shape of the shield can be modified by an experienced wearer until it is skin tight, but you don't need to worry about that for now."

Interesting.

"What's the advantage of that?" Daniel asked anyway.

"Depending on the person and the species, a skin-tight shield can cover less surface area, meaning it requires less-power to maintain under fire. Mainly, they are less noticeable if circumstances require that a shield is kept up and if others are close by. With a bubble shield, it will activate if I'm just standing too close or if a passing hand or wing come too close."

And if the goal is for people not to notice, that isn't good.

Ruarc continued, circling back to the original topic, "The shield within the gauntlets is weaker than that of a dedicated personal shield, as the gauntlets are multi-functional, and the power crystals have to support all functions. That said, your shield can stop anything from a bladed weapon to a staff blast, though a sustained barrage of weapons' fire would not end well. Reverse the process to turn the shield off."

What qualifies as "sustained"?

"Do you and the Commander have dedicated personal shields?" Daniel asked, as he tried to bring his own shield back down. It took two tries before he was successful, though Ruarc assured him using the gauntlets would become easier with practice.

"My brother and I always carry them," Ruarc responded, "but they are much more obvious, so we keep them concealed. The Commander should. Whether she does for sure, I do not know. Now …" He stepped away to a rack of shelves several yards away and came back carrying something. It looked like a cross between a heavy-duty Kevlar vest and medieval body armor.

"You want me to wear that?" Daniel asked, surprised. At Ruarc's nod, he continued, "But I have a personal shield?"

Wouldn't both be overkill? Can't a shield protect against more?

Ruarc's answer reminded Daniel that, while he had seen fighting with SG1 against the Goa'uld, he had no understanding of actual combat, that he lacked the centuries of experience that the Furlings had. That inexperience could get him killed. "Because, Daniel," Ruarc said with a sigh, "it took you several seconds to bring your shield up. In the event of an attack, that gap is enough to let in a first blow, and depending on the accuracy of your attackers, one blow might be all it would take."

This is Bra'tac!

"Are you expecting an ambush?" Daniel asked, almost aghast, eyes wide behind his glasses.

This is Bra'tac!

Ruarc hesitated, long enough that Daniel felt a knot form in his stomach. "No," he finally replied, "but if the Great War taught us anything, it is that it is better to protect against treachery and thank the Maker if it does not occur. If we truly expected a trap, we would send soldiers down from orbit, not two men alone through the Stargate."

Better to be safe than sorry? The Furlings had been betrayed by supposed allies more than once. That was how Sujanha had actually been poisoned.

It isn't paranoia if they actually are out to get you, and some have been so better to be safe than sorry?

Daniel trusted Bra'tac but was feeling a lot more nervous now as Ruarc explained the function of the body armor and then helped him put it on. Hidden under his jacket, it would protect his torso and vital organs from attack and give him time to pull his shield up. It was lighter than it looked and more flexible and stretched from the base of his neck down to the bottom of his abdomen.

Sensing Daniel's nerves, Ruarc shifted into instructor mode and gave a few brief instructions, which boiled down to "Be careful!" and "Don't do anything stupid!" and "Follow Agar's instructions to the letter!" and, finally, "Come back in one piece whatever happens." As soon as that was finished, Daniel and Ruarc beamed across to outer-hallways of the Hall of the Stargate.

By the time they reached the inner chamber past all the security checks, Wing Commander Agar was already there waiting for them. He was at least a head taller than Daniel, with sharp features, an expressionless face, and severely cut clothing with excessively long sleeves that seemed oddly out of place. For a few moments Daniel thought he was human, but then as Agar surveyed him, Daniel saw that his half-lidded eyes had inhuman vertical pupils and the hands that rarely appeared out of his sleeves were tipped with claws.

Agar made a signal, and the Stargate began to dial. Ruarc gave the Wing Commander a brisk salute and then turned back to Daniel. "Trust your friend, but be careful. If the meeting goes wrong, a mothership will be in orbit. Good fortune."

Daniel nodded. Behind them the Stargate finished dialing and opened with a kawoosh that made him jump slightly, distracted as he was by Ruarc's words. Agar motioned for him to follow and then stepped into the wormhole, and Daniel followed a few paces behind.

Here we go.


The world to which Daniel and Agar had been sent was forested. Jack would complain about the trees. The Stargate stood in a large, oblong clearing that was surrounded by trees at a distance of maybe 20 meters. Here and there were gaps in the tree-line that possibly belonged to cultivated trails, if the world was inhabited or used by passing travelers, or animal footpaths. There were no Jaffa in sight. From all he knew of Bra'tac, Daniel was almost certain they were being watched: the question was by how many and where were they.

"Where's Bra'tac?" Daniel said aloud in a low voice, pitched deliberately not to carry, a voice he had learned from long hours spent in libraries during his academic career. (It was very worthwhile to keep on the good side of the librarians!) Part of him felt uneasy about being back in the Milky-Way without backup, but then he remained himself sternly that there was a mothership in orbit and that with Furling body armor AND a personal shield, he was almost certainly safer than he had ever been on all his missions with Jack, Sam, and Teal'c.

Agar was an utterly still presence at his side. The man's head was tilted to one side, an action Daniel had seen Ruarc or Ragnar or Sujanha do frequently, and only his eyes flicked around the clearing. If he turns, anyone watching will know he's looking. "There is a Jaffa just within the tree line ahead of us. He has concealed himself quite poorly," the Wing Commander said bluntly.

Almost as soon as he had finished speaking, a young Jaffa emerged from the tree line and approached them slowly, stopping out of lunge-range. He had a staff weapon in his hand, but it wasn't activated. He looked between Daniel and Agar for a moment before his gaze focused on Daniel. "Daniel Jackson." Is that a question or a statement?

"I am," Daniel confirmed just in case, "Bra'tac sent for us."

"Follow me," the Jaffa replied, casting one last glance at Agar before turning and leading them into the woods.

Bra'tac and three other Jaffa were waiting in a clearing a couple hundred yards into the woods along one of the smaller, less-travelled paths. It was either early in the day or late in the afternoon from the long shadows on the ground, and a small fire had been built on a clear-patch of soil around which were several logs for use as seats. A young man—ostensibly human—almost certainly the missing Navok, was sitting by the fire, talking quietly to Bra'tac, but looked up instantly as Daniel and Agar approached. Eyes wide, he bounded to his feet and bowed low before Bra'tac had even risen.

Agar took in the surroundings with a quick glance before Daniel saw his gaze focus on the missing Novak. "You are unharmed?" He asked in English.

"Yes, commander," Navok replied. (Commander seemed to be a default title of respect/manner of addressing officers when using full, formal titles was unnecessary.)

"Is he free to leave?" Agar asked Bra'tac, identifying him immediately either because he was the oldest there or because of Daniel's previous description of him.

A wordless nod was the only reply. So far, matters were turning out somewhat friendlier than Daniel had expected. He would have thought that Bra'tac would have wanted Navok's presence throughout the meeting.

"Return to Uslisgas immediately," ordered Agar, "The Supreme Commanders will wish to speak with you." His face softened slightly, and he added more gently, "Your brother is well and will be glad to see you."

"Yes, commander." Navok bowed to Agar and saluted him, and then he turned to Bra'tac and did the same.

As soon as Navok had departed toward the Stargate, Bra'tac came around the fire. It had been some time since Daniel had seen him last, but the old Jaffa warrior looked exactly the same, the same easy movements, the same depth of wisdom and cunning in his eyes. There were good reasons why he had survived so long leading the Jaffa Fifth Column without being discovered.

"It's good to see you, Master Bra'tac," said Daniel, extending his hand to the old Jaffa.

"And you, Daniel Jackson," replied the old master, grasping Daniel's arm in the traditional warrior's greeting, "Teal'c told me of your exile at the hands of the hasshak." From the scorn with which he spoke and the insult rendered to Maybourne, it was quite clear what Bra'tac's opinion was about Daniel's involuntary exile. "I am glad to see that you are well."

Daniel quickly introduced the Wing Commander, and the two greeted each other as warriors. Bra'tac then gestured to the seats around the fire. "Come. Let us sit, and you may tell me why your people have sought us out." With a few quick words in Goa'uld, he dispatched his subordinates to keep watch nearby.

"After he first came to us," Agar said, after a few more words of introduction on his own behalf, his intonation sharp and his every word precise and to the point, "Doctor Jackson told us of the Rebel Jaffa and of your work to bring an end to the Goa'uld empire from the inside. My people, the Furlings, were greatly encouraged to hear of this for we, too, seek the destruction of the Goa'uld."

Bra'tac was silent for a moment. "You plan to make war upon the Goa'uld?" He asked bluntly.

Agar gave a sharp nod.

"And your people believe that they have the power to do this?" Bra'tac seemed skeptical. Opposition from the Tok'ra and the Free Jaffa had only done so much; the Asgard were hampered by their own problems, and the Goa'uld had largely ruled unchecked for millennia.

"You know of the Asgard and the worlds banned by and to the Goa'uld such as Cimmeria?" Agar asked, answering a question with a question.

"I do," Bra'tac replied, "I warned Teal'c myself of the forbidden worlds, and the Tau'ri have told us of the Asgard."

"From ancient times, my people and the Asgard have been allies. Yet, the Asgard hold the Goa'uld in check from those worlds by the threat of power and the occasional show of force," Agar continued in quick tones, "The Furlings are as mighty as the Asgard, and we are limited by no treaties that check our power and keep us from outright war. The twilight of the Goa'uld is upon them."

Yikes! He's actually revealing that. They really are putting a lot of trust in my representation of Bra'tac!

Well, he's actually implying more than he's saying, maybe?

He's not actually saying that the Asgard are struggling or explaining why the Asgard are limited by the treaties.

"And what would you seek from us? My followers are few."

And Bra'tac is putting a lot of trust in me, being willing to meet.

"Intelligence, first and foremost," Agar replied without hesitation, "My people dwell in a distant land, and we know little of your language and of this galaxy, save largely for what the Asgard and Daniel Jackson have told us. That makes it more difficult and dangerous for us to send out scouts. We are wary of capture lest we inform the System Lords of our presence too soon. What information Doctor Jackson could give us about the Goa'uld, their worlds, their numbers, the main leaders, their alliances and rivalries, was undeniably valuable but limited, considering his recent exile from Midgard … earth. The war that will soon be upon the Goa'uld will sweep across the galaxy. It is a war we are ready and willing to fight, but we have no wish to step onto a battlefield where we have little knowledge of the ground that lies ahead."

Bra'tac nodded. He was an experienced enough soldier that he would have agreed with Agar's final statements. "What of the Jaffa who have not yet learned the truth about the false gods?"

"No war is bloodless," a shadow of regret flashed across Agar's face for an instant and then was gone, "but we wish for as few to die as possible, not just among our own men."

"And in return?" Bra'tac asked. What would the Jaffa get in return was the question.

Agar relaxed somewhat and leaned back against the log. He had chosen to sit on the ground, instead of on his log for some reason. "What do you want?" He asked easily, "Food? Healing supplies? Better weaponry? A safe world? Transportation?" Generosity had many uses.

"I will consider what is most needed," replied Bra'tac. He paused and seemed to think a moment before continuing. To Daniel, it seemed like the talk would soon be over. Agar and Bra'tac seemed much alike, and Bra'tac was wary but not stupid. He would know that an alliance would be beneficial for the fragile Rebel Jaffa movement. "What is your conflict with the Goa'uld?"

"They are a blight upon this galaxy, a race of thieves, betrayers, and killers, who have no honor," said Agar, disgust dripping from his words, "They stole from us in a past age, taking from our hidden strongholds. Most of their technology are ancient copies, with some distortions, of what was ours. They used our technology to fuel their rise to power, and we would see them fall as recompense."

"I see," said Bra'tac. He asked a few more brief questions, but then he rose and extended his hand to Agar. "You have my support. All that I know of the Goa'uld I will freely share."


[1] The Furling equivalent of the earth phrase "24-7-365."

[2] Enough Jaffa were captured on Cimmeria that the Furlings were reticent to just dump them all into prison, even a comfortable one, as that would require a considerable number of guards. Rather, a small settlement was founded on the surface of one of those prison worlds, and Heru'ur's Jaffa were settled there. Sensors and trackers keep them confined to a large but limited area, and within that area, they are free to move around. They are given materials to build houses and the like, and they farm the land or hunt (with limited, low-tech weaponry) for food. The Furlings would, of course, step in if inclement weather or other problems meant harvests went bad. Commander Sujanha describes it as a trial solution that might be used further for large groups of Jaffa from the same System Lord's army. Prisoners who might otherwise be in danger from the general population, Goa'uld, or especially notoriously nasty non-Goa'uld prisoners would be kept within the prisons themselves.

[3] A/N: I have no fondness for Stargate: Origins, but the reference is helpful here.

[4] The dead.