A/N: As always, thanks to all who read and to all who review, as well. I love writing, and I'm always glad when someone gets enjoyment out of my stories besides me.
The Furlings were nothing if not efficient.
After capturing five of Apophis' most important worlds in the space of a day or so, Sujanha and Anarr spent the next fortnight (by Furling measurements) leading their forces through the rest of Apophis' former domain, cutting a swath through the territories of his squabbling underlings and "cleaning house." Planet after planet held by the Goa'uld fell in quick succession. During those two weeks, so many more Goa'uld ships were captured that Sujanha was even forced to rescind her previous order about preserving captured vessels because the engineers were overloaded with ships in need of repair for the moment. There were only so many ships that could be repaired and only so many ships that the Furlings or the allies could make use of.
Any more than that is a drain on time and resources. The Stargate and fast inter-galactic hyperdrives did not entirely prevent supply chain problems for a military far, far away from its home-base.
On every world that they captured, the Furlings or whichever allied contingent led the siege allowed a handful of Jaffa to escape, thereby spreading rumors across the galaxy about the nameless dread that was relentlessly bringing down Goa'uld worlds and minor Goa'uld one by one by one. Thousands more Jaffa were captured as those worlds formerly controlled by Apophis fell to the relentless wave that was the Furling advance. Those few Rebel Jaffa that Bra'tac identified among the ranks of the prisoners were released as quickly as possible, while still concealing their true allegiance for safety's sake, while the remaining Jaffa and any captured Goa'uld were returned to Asteria to be imprisoned.
Assisted by the Tok'ra and their wealth of information about the functioning of symbiotes, the Furling healers were still researching the best way to extract symbiotes and free the long-imprisoned hosts with the least chance of failure and/or death. Death was freedom of a sort and might be longed for by some, but it was not the freedom for those hosts that the Furlings were hoping for. The delay troubled Daniel, though he knew it was unavoidable. He was impatient for the chance to finally hold his wife again and have her free of Amaunet's control for more than one short day.
She didn't even have any time with Shifu before Amaunet reappeared.
Concurrent with the Furling advance in the Milky-Way, Sujanha's ships kept a close watch upon Saqqara and its newfound prize: the Ancient warship buried beneath the desert sands. Within two days of its discovery, Ipyrsh engineers had determined that it was safe to beam personnel down to the buried ship without fear of structural disasters. The lack of a breathable atmosphere was easily solved. Breathable for a human or breathable for anyone? The ship's power supply had long ago been depleted, but that was a problem the Furlings easily dealt with. Once power was restored to the ships and engineers, technicians, and other workers (along with their guards—Daniel wasn't quite sure why there were guards, but … better to be safe than sorry, I guess?) could move around the ship without difficulty … or without extremely long walks in the dark, a detailed examination of the ship revealed that it was somehow relatively undamaged even after its hard landing on the planet's surface and remaining unrepaired for ages.
Aside from scoring from sand-storms, unless you had cracks in the hull that could cause leakage or water damage, having the ship completely buried should preserve it, not perfectly, but … Similar to the ancient monuments in Egypt that he had devoted his career to studying before everything went array.
And thank goodness for strong hulls … and probably good navigators to pull off a landing like that. Daniel wondered what had happened to the crew. No bodies had been found, though a careful search had been made. In the environment within the ship, bodies should have survived from the crash until the present days. Either some or all of the crew had survived … hopefully … or … worse … any bodies had been taken by the Goa'uld. At least, the sarcophagus doesn't work on deader than dead bodies.
Even though a number of control crystals were missing from the ship, hindering examinations of its logs and from repairs of critical systems, the Iprysh engineers joined by skilled Furling, Dovahkiin, and Asgardian engineers, were hopeful to have the ship, whose hull was still sound, totally repaired and ready for flight within six months. (That seemed extremely short to Daniel, but the Furlings had more resources to devote to such things than most.) The problem then would be extracting the battleship, which had been christened the Azrea (a Furling word that referenced Daniel knew not what), from the ground without destroying the Goa'uld pyramid built atop it.
But they've got six months, at least, to figure out that problem.
In the temporary lull midway through the sweep through Apophis' territory—well, not so much as a lull, but a space of a few hours when Sujanha's battle-group was unoccupied—Sujanha had traveled to Saqqara to see the Azrea for herself. After an hour or two on the ship, Daniel decided that the Ancient warship was more alien in a way than Furling ships with its strange control panels, strange layout, strange walls, and…well…strange everything. The Furling ships had seemed strange, at first, too. It's all in what you get used to.
Sujanha—Daniel was interested to find out—had the specific gene in her DNA necessary for operating Ancient technology, a gene that made lights and some technology activate when she entered a room. The lights were one thing, but the technology made some engineers a little nervous. They were being very careful what they turned on while still going over the ship with a fine tooth-comb.
The Commander has Asgardian blood, so I suppose it's not surprising her line has Ancient blood, as well. The Furling Imperial House, it was said, could trace its lineage unbroken back to the beginning of their written history long ago, and if there was one thing that a royal house did, it was intermarry. Did the other races ever have monarchies, or was it just the Furlings?
Daniel learned a lot more about the Ancients on that brief trip.
The Ancients had originally left the Milky-Way millions of years ago after a plague (a different plague than the one that had forced the Furlings to flee the Milky-Way). More than one widespread plague, wonderful. With the aid of a Furling holographic star-map (the inter-galactic version of a planetarium + phonebook + MapQuest), which he had used a handful of times before, Daniel also learned that the Ancients had then gone what he thought was the Pegasus Galaxy. Sam would know. After being defeated some 8,800 Furlings year ago by an enemy of theirs that dwelt there—an enemy that even Sujanha seemed disconcerted by, though she admitted she knew little more than vague reports and unsubstantiated rumors—the Ancients fled Pegasus back to the Milky-Way before eventually ascending as spirit-beings or something to a higher plane of existence, a process called "ascension."
For a host of reasons, Sujanha had little positive to say about the Ancients' choice to ascend. With the withdrawal of the Nox, even solely as peacekeepers or healers, from the Alliance, the subsequent ascension of the Ancients had dumped all the responsibilities of the entire Alliance first just on the shoulders of the Asgard and then, with the return of the Furlings many years later, on the shoulders of the Furlings and Asgard, the latter of whom were still fighting a galactic-wide war simultaneously. And still are! Even taciturn Ragnar had inserted his two cents, caustically comparing ascension to "a living death" and describing ascension as a violation of the natural order. For it is appointed unto men once to die, as the Bible says.
Despite those warnings and comments, there seemed to be much more that about ascension and the possibilities from ascension that were not being said. Daniel found himself very intrigued by the concept of ascension and mentally filed it away to research in the Great Library the next time he returned to Uslisgas and had some spare time.
22nd of Ea, 6545 A.S.
(~February 1, 1999)
Valhalla, Avalon
Two Furling weeks to the day after the capture of Chulak, the Valhalla was in orbit around Ushuotis, the Furling's base inside of Lord Yu's territory and the planet that Martouf had accidentally stumbled onto months earlier, unexpectedly bringing an end to the Furlings' search for the Tok'ra. The sweep of Apophis' territory had finished, and across the fleet, scout ships and strike-fleets were using the temporary lull following the end of that campaign to restock on supplies and carry out any necessary repairs. Sujanha herself was using the opportunity to receive briefs from their allies and send reports back to Asteria to the High King and the High Council.
And if the rest of us have our way, she'll get badgered into resting for a bit.
A little past midday, Daniel was sitting in Sujanha's private office in the depths of the ship. Slumped against the arm of her chair with her head propped on her left paw, the Commander was reading through several new reports from Bra'tac and the Rebel Jaffa on the response of the other System Lords to the fall of Apophis' domain along with other intelligence. Daniel had left the Valhalla late that morning to go with the guards picking up the reports from the Rebel Jaffa on the latest of a continually rotating list of uninhabited or abandoned worlds. The main reason Daniel went was that, on the occasions that Bra'tac actually brought the messages, Daniel could sometimes get news about earth and all his friends at the SGC.
Good riddance to Hathor. Getting dumped in a cryo tank couldn't happen to a nicer Goa'uld.
Bra'tac's news had been old this trip, but Daniel had been happy to hear of Hathor's demise just the same. Even thinking about that encounter with her back on earth made his stomach lurch.
Good riddance to the symbiote. The host finally is free.
What fuzzy memories he had of her hold over the SGC, he would have gladly expunged them permanently from his memory.
Maybe an hour after Daniel had returned from getting a late lunch, a chime sounded, signaling that someone was requesting entrance to her office. There was a long pause, and no one entered, which was slightly unusual. Any signals Asik, Jaax, Ragnar, or Ruarc made were usually perfunctory unless Sujanha had told them otherwise that she needed privacy, and they usually entered in quick succession. Must not be one of them then. Straightening, Sujanha made a motion with one paw, and the door slid open. Daniel swiveled in his seat to see who had arrived. In the doorway was Asi, one of the children who lived on the ship and sometimes ran errands or passed messages.
"Hello, child," Sujanha greeted him kindly, "do you have a message for me?"
"Yes, Commander," Asi replied with a little bob that was half a bow, half Daniel knew not what. "A message from the surface. A Tok'ra has just arrived through the Stargate and is requesting to speak with you."
Out of the blue? No messengers were expected today. What happened now?
Sujanha seemed to wonder the same thing, given the worried look in her eyes. "Have them sent up at once." Asi nodded, made another little bob, and then, spinning on one heel, disappeared, moving with all the energy of youth.
What's the old saying: youth is wasted on those so young? I could use that much energy.
"I wonder who it will be," Daniel mused when Asi had left and the door had slid shut behind him. "Whatever news he brings," his voice sobered, "I can't imagine it's good. Not without notice like this."
Sujanha scrubbed one paw across her face tiredly and then ran it back the other way, smoothing down mussed fur, heavily streaked with white. "No, I do not imagine so, but such is war."
Ever since the Furlings had allied themselves with the Tok'ra, they had sent an operative every week or two with the latest intelligence and news about the Goa'uld. (The visits were relatively routine, and unexpected news usually meant trouble.) Sujanha always made sure the messenger had a real bed for the night (if necessary) and a decent meal (the food at the Tok'ra base was apparently not very good from what one operative had said in the midst of almost inhaling the fresh food that he had been given. Growing enough food to feed an entire base on deserted, inhospitable words … where you also have to live underground for your own safety … was incredibly difficult, and not prone to providing variety. The Tok'ra did trade for some goods, but still …)
There had been a revolving door of operatives, and Daniel did not think that even the same messenger had come twice these past months. Initially, meeting with the Tok'ra had been rather uncomfortable given his previous interactions with the Goa'uld, but he had gotten much more used to them as time went on. Daniel had even had very pleasant conversations with several over meals and liked most, though not all, of the operatives that he had met. Sujanha herself had similar thoughts about the operatives themselves but disliked the revolving door.
As long as they don't start repeating messengers and send the woman who liked the leather clothes!
Oh, what was her name … Neither Daniel nor Sujanha had liked her.
Five or ten minutes passed, and then the door chime sounded again. A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing Asik in the doorway. "The Tok'ra operative for you, Commander," he said and then stepped back.
The aforementioned operative—a man of medium height with dark skin, a short-cropped beard, and a healing scrape up near his hairline—entered Sujanha's office. Definitely don't know this one. The new Tok'ra was middle-aged in appearance, though how old he actually was, that was anybody's guess. His eyes flicked warily from point to point, assessing every aspect of the room.
Must be a field operative.
They're always more … twitchy.
The operative gave a shallow bow. "Supreme Commander, I am Ocker of the Tok'ra." His voice was the dual-flanged one of the symbiote. Only the symbiote being introduced sometimes was another thing Daniel had had to get used to. Sometimes only one or the other, usually the one in control, was introduced, while other times both were introduced, no matter who was in control. It varied by Tok'ra, and from conversations that Daniel had had, it seemed that some hosts who had especially suffered under Goa'uld rule preferred to stay far in the background.
"You are welcome among us," Sujanha replied in English, waving him to a seat. She looked past him then to Asik, still in the doorway, "If you would bring us some drinks while we speak, please, then you may return to your duties. Leave the door open."
"Of course, Commander," Asik gave a shallow bow and withdrew, leaving the door between the inner and outer offices open.
Ocker saluted Sujanha and finally took a seat next to Daniel in front of her desk. He moved somewhat stiffly, as if he had recently been injured. More severely than just that head wound. "Thank you, Supreme Commander," the dual-flanged voice of a symbiote was much less nerve-inducing than it had once been. "I bring greetings to you from the Tok'ra High Council, who send congratulations on your recent successes these past weeks."
"By the grace of the Maker, our first strikes have gone well, but Apophis had already fallen, and few strong ones remained to oppose us within his lands. Future battles might not be so easy," replied Sujanha modestly and cautiously. "Were any Tok'ra operatives lost?"
"No," Ocker shook his head. "Only a few operatives remained embedded within the dregs of ranks of Apophis' underlings. Your warning gave us time to withdraw them without their covers being broken."
"Good."
Sujanha was kept from saying more by Asik's swift return with a tray of drinks. Once Ocker had declined the offer of food and Asik had withdrawn, Sujanha continued, "Tell me, why have you come? Your coming is unexpected. What news do you bring?"
A dark, worried look passed across the Tok'ra operative's face at the question. "Rumors of your attacks have spread across the galaxy," said Ocker, "and the System Lords are greatly troubled. Some have even made accusations against each other, but so far none have progressed to open war against another."
Sujanha gave a laugh that was almost a scoff. "My people look nothing like any of the races in this galaxy that have survived to this day. To accuse each other of this attack is folly."
Ocker had no reply to that. "I do bring quite serious news on two accounts."
Sujanha gave Daniel a look that he knew was his cue to make notes—copious, detailed notes—and settled back into her chair, her eyes laser focused on the Tok'ra across from her. "Go on."
"There are whispers at several courts that, if these attacks continue, some of the System Lords might form a temporary truce and ally themselves against your forces." Ocker pulled a data crystal from a hidden pouch and handed it to Sujanha. "This is the latest data that we have from our operatives."
A partnership among the Goa'uld? Among the System Lords?
Could they even be a threat, or would it just be more eggs in one basket?
Sujanha carefully took the crystal from his hand—there was always the risk of scratching a human with her claws—and then passed it back across to Daniel. He got up from his chair and took the surprisingly heavy crystal across to a data reader that sat on a table on the other side of the room.
As soon as the reader engaged, multiple holograms depicting the info appeared over her desk, before condensing into one hologram that had multiple 'pages.' Sujanha swiped through the screens quickly, probably looking for anything that she might need to ask Ocker for more information about. There would be time after he left to study it at her leisure.
"This will be very useful. My thanks," Sujanha always spoke more formally around the Tok'ra than she did around Bra'tac or the other Rebel Jaffa. Why exactly this was, Daniel wasn't sure. If he had to guess, it probably had something to do with the revolving door of messengers, which made building relationships … extremely hard since we haven't had a repeat yet.
Sujanha then pulled out a differently colored and shaped crystal from a desk drawer and passed it across to Ocker. "As our attacks increase in number, your operatives might come under greater risk of exposure. This crystal holds the addresses to twelve worlds not within the Goa'uld Stargate network. They have all been confirmed to be uninhabited within the last three days. As I made clear to the operative who came last, any Tok'ra are welcome to flee to one of our bases if need be. Some of those addresses have already been given to you. Our bases are heavily guarded, and they would be assured of aid and medical care there without the risk of capture."
"We thank you," replied Ocker formally, taking the crystal and returning it to the same hidden pouch within his uniform.
Sujanha nodded, "And the other urgent matter of which you spoke?"
"The High Council wishes to know if you have determined which System Lord is your next target."
That's a statement, not a question.
And how does that lead into urgent news exactly?
Aside from the need to warn their operatives, which is a given anyway.
Sujanha leaned back, shifting in her chair. "We have been in conference in recent days, discussing that issue, but have not yet come to a final decision, though multiple possibilities have been raised. Do the Tok'ra have counsel?"
Heru'ur's been taking advantage of Apophis' downfall, she's said.
Cronus and Nirrti are also potential targets.
"Sokar."
Sujanha looked over to Daniel, inviting his usual mythological explanations for each of the Goa'uld.
"We never encountered Sokar while I was SG1, but in Egyptian mythology, Sokar was a god of death who presided over a necropolis, a city of the dead, near Memphis in Lower Egypt. He was one of the most feared gods in the Egyptian pantheon and represented the eternal death of the soul: no afterlife, just oblivion," Daniel replied, only realizing half-way through his explanation that he had code-switched back into Furling.
Oops.
English! Stick to English!
"Sokar is one of the cruelest and most feared among the System Lords ever since the days of the First Goa'uld Dynasty," Ocker continued. "He has taken on the persona of the devil from a Tauri religion,"—the devil. How does he know that term?—"He is one of the oldest of the surviving Goa'uld and once ruled the System Lords long ago before Apophis and Ra defeated him. The rumors of Sokar's death, however, were greatly exaggerated." That is an idiom I've never heard outside of earth. Who has he been talking to? "Since the defeat of Apophis some months ago, Sokar has been quietly building his forces, preparing for an attack against the System Lords, which before your arrival could, if successful, restore his position as Supreme System Lord. Three of our operatives have been lost, trying to infiltrate his ranks, the latest only three days ago. If they are still alive, they will have been sent to Netu … to hell. The last news we received was that his fleet was at least seven times what we originally thought."
Seven!?
Yikes!
How big is his fleet, then? How many ships?
Seven times as big!
"'Devil,' 'hell,'" Sujanha repeated the words slowly, her gaze turning to Daniel, "Those are Midgardian terms. Is there anything significant that I need to know right now?"
How do I explain Satan to someone with no concept of Christianity?
Daniel shook his head, "I don't think so."
"Very well." Sujanha's laser-like attention returned to Ocker. "What are the chances that any of your operatives still live? Would he not slaughter any exposed as spies?"
Ocker's face twisted in a mixture of horror and revulsion. "Sokar prefers to torture his prisoners for as long as possible rather than just kill them. The ways on and off of Netu are extremely limited, and it provides him a secure place for keeping any who cross him imprisoned forever."
Some fates were worse than death.
Far worse.
"Tell me of Netu then."
"Netu is a terraformed world that barely supports life. The surface is uninhabitable, we believe, and prisoners probably live in tunnels or caves beneath the surface. Its atmosphere is impenetrable by ship. Only escape pods can reach the surface."
By regular ships maybe?
Would Furling ships have trouble getting through?
"Is Netu a planet? A moon?"
"A moon," Ocker replied, "that orbits Sokar's homeworld, Delmak."
"Can you give me the Stargate address for Delmak?"
Ocker nodded. Sujanha opened a hologram that Daniel recognized as one of the entry pages into the 2D version of the Furling star map. She pushed the hologram across to Ocker, who, after a moment studying the screen, quickly drew the address into the waiting blank boxes. When he had finished, that holographic window vanished, and a star map appeared over Sujanha's desk with Delmak highlighted in red.
"If Sokar's new fleet is truly as large as Selmak's data stated, he will prove a major threat. If Selmak and other operatives can be rescued …" Ocker's voice trailed off.
Sujanha was quiet for several minutes, staring at the map. "You said Netu's atmosphere barely supports life. Can you explain further?"
If Ocker can convince Sujanha, I doubt Commander Anarr will disagree.
"Netu was once an industrialized world, but when Delmak was captured by Sokar, it was bombarded from orbit by his ships, allowing molten lava and toxic fumes to pervade the surface."
"Such an atmosphere will not hinder us; we have many who can survive in such atmospheres or worse with no difficulty," Sujanha replied.
Would the Ipyrsh suits withstand the heat? I know their homeworld is basically an ice-world. If they use the suits at home, would they function in the heat?
The Etrairs have breathing masks that might be able to deal.
Don't the Dovahkiin live on a fire world, too? Or do they live in tunnels beneath a fire world?
"I will speak with Supreme Commander Anarr, but from what you have said, I think making Sokar our next target and doing so as quickly as possible would be advisable. If the Maker is merciful, we might rescue your operatives if they still live."
Signaling that the interview was at an end, Sujanha rose, a motion that was almost smooth, except for a small catch when she put too much weight on her right leg too suddenly. It was her right side, arm and leg, that gave her trouble more often than not when she had trouble.
"Thank you for your time, Supreme Commander. I will pass your news to the High Council." Ocker rose and bowed slightly. "Please let us know as to your decision as quickly as possible."
Are they going to try a rescue if Sujanha and Anarr don't agree?
"Of course," Sujanha replied. "Asik will show you out." Her voice was raised in pitch slightly on the last sentence, giving Asik the necessary clue to come.
Asik appeared and led Ocker out, leaving the door open behind them. Sujanha returned to her seat with a hissed sigh, as Ragnar appeared in the doorway. "Anything you need from us?" Her bodyguard asked.
"Do you know where Elder Brother is?" Sujanha asked. "I know he has not returned to Asteria, but …"
There was a murmur from behind Ragnar, and he twisted to look back at someone in the outer office. From the low pitch of the voice, it was probably Ruarc who had spoken.
"Ruarc thinks Commander Anarr is on Calydon right now, or at least he was as of yesterday when my brother received a message from one of his friends still within the Imperial Guard."
The Imperial Guard, Daniel also knew from his reading, was one of a handful of elite shock-troop units within the Furling Army. Ragnar and Ruarc had both actually served in the Imperial Guard before being assigned by Anarr to guard Sujanha in 6108 AS after they had recovered from injuries gained at the Battle of Three Peaks the previous year, an important battle near the end of the Great War.
Sujanha nodded, "Well—I don't care who takes the messages up to Mekoxe—I need a message sent to Anarr that I must speak with him as soon as possible. Messages also need to be sent to the leaders of the Ipyrsh and Dovahkiin contingents that their aid will probably soon be needed."
I guess that answers the question about how heat resistant their armor is.
"Do you want to wait until you have spoken with Commander Anarr?" Daniel asked cautiously. Granted, he was pretty sure of what his decision would be, but … better to be safe than sorry.
Sujanha glanced up from her perusal of the data Ocker had brought—she was quite good at multitasking. "No, it's fine. I know what he will say. Sokar is a much better candidate for our next offensive than all the other System Lords we had discussed, especially given his expansionist plans and this fleet of his. If even the Goa'uld consider Sokar to be evil, I shudder to think of what his deeds might be."
How low can the Goa'uld sink … I should stop being surprised.
Ragnar gave a low snort.
Daniel rose. "I can take these messages up to the bridge. Should I wait for responses?"
"No," Sujanha replied with a shake of her head. "He'll send the replies down when they come. Go eat—it's far past time for the midday meal anyway—and then come back."
I thought I said so earlier.
Maybe I just thought about saying it. Wouldn't be the first time.
"I already ate," Daniel replied.
Ragnar tacked on a moment later, "We can have food sent up for you, Commander. You haven't eaten since the morning meal, and you barely ate then."
"Maybe later," Sujanha said, shaking her head.
Worth a try, at least.
Daniel nodded and turned for the door. "I understand why the Iprysh, but why the Dovahkiin?" He asked, turning back for a moment.
"I'll explain when you get back."
Only fifteen minutes later—there had been several others in front of him who needed to speak with Mekoxe—Daniel returned to Sujanha's office. Asik was still absent. "I gave Mexoke the messages," Daniel said, retaking his seat. "He'll send down the replies as soon as they come."
"My thanks," replied Sujanha, "As to your earlier question, for any attack on Netu, we will want soldiers from the Dovahkiin … and the Iprysh … because of the atmosphere and the terrain. We—the Furlings as a race—are not primarily close-quarters fighters, though that varies somewhat by sub-species. We can fight hand-to-hand, but our staff weapons make us best suited for longer-range combat, and our staffs are too long to be properly utilized in tunnels. We are also susceptible to toxic atmospheres, though not to the same degree as humans. Because of the extremely inhospitable conditions of their homeworlds, both the Iprysh and the Dovahkiin live underground and are especially skilled at close quarter combat, especially in tunnels. The Iprysh armor has a closed atmosphere and is very resistant to temperature extremes, cold and hot. Drehond, the Dovahkiin homeworld is a fire-world, but they can survive on the surface, because their lungs naturally filter out the toxic gasses and harmful particles in the atmosphere."
Okay.
Wow.
Sujanha was right as she usually was. Within two hours, Anarr appeared on board the Valhalla with Odin and Frár, his two High Generals, in tow. Once High Commander Algar was present via hologram, a war council began. All the information that Ocker had delivered was presented, including the details about Sokar and the 'threat' of his growing power and increasing fleet as well as about the missing Tok'ra operatives—who, if they're still alive, probably wish they aren't … a horrible thought to contemplate. Hearing that, it was agreed that Sokar and, more specifically, Delmak because of the urgency of this intelligence, would be the Furlings' next target. Destroying Sokar's main fleet on Delmak, capturing his homeworld, and, hopefully, capturing Sokar also would destabilize the rest of his territory.
Furling battle-plans, so far, seemed to be made slowly and methodically, no rushing in headlong, or so it had been these past weeks and months.
But here, now, there was no time to delay.
No one knew how much longer the Tok'ra operatives could survive on Netu, if they still lived at all.
No one knew how quickly Sokar's fleet would leave Delmak, and once it scattered among the stars, it would be much harder to take out quickly. The havoc it could wreak before the Furlings could track the ships down could be devastating.
Everyone buckled down from commanders to generals to simple scouts to collect intelligence and atmospheric data on Netu, construct battle plans (Delmak would be much more heavily defended than Chulak or Saqqara), and transmit news to the Tok'ra and Rebel Jaffa. Within four days, enough intelligence had been gathered that Sujanha and Anarr were confident enough that they would not be rushing headlong into disaster to give the go-ahead for an attack on Delmak and Netu. Much more time to gather intelligence and plan would have been highly preferable, but … needs must?
(There were murmurs on board ship that those days of planning in haste was like being brought back to some days of desperate planning during the dark days of the Great War when Sujanha and Anarr and their commanders and troops had kept ahead of the Enemy only by the skin of their teeth.)
But then other intelligence came in … and maybe the first-strike against Sokar needed to be expanded.
The morning of the fifth day dawned just as early as it had on the morning of the capture of Chulak. At least I got more sleep last night! Around the 5th hour—three hours to go time—Daniel was down in the mess hall eating a hurried breakfast when there was a chime from a gauntlet and a text message appeared from Sujanha. He had spoken with her briefly right before coming down to eat, not more than fifteen or twenty minutes earlier, so why the unexpected summons back?
The message had not said that he needed to come right then and there, though she had said it was urgent, so he took five minutes to scarf down the rest of his toast, meat, and strangely colored eggs and finish his mug of tea. Then Daniel hurried back up-deck. Asik had stepped out in the intervening time, but a tense Jaax was still at his desk, attention fixed upon his tablet in front of him. He looked up as Daniel entered and gave him a sympathetic look.
Okkkayyy …
The tension in the office was so thick Daniel thought he could almost cut it with a knife.
Probably a very dull knife.
It's been like twenty minutes, at most!
What the h**l happened?!
Sujanha was standing behind her desk, eyes blazing in a thunderous scowl, Ruarc flanking her on one side. Across from her was a hulking Dovahkiin, who always looked to Daniel like the cross between a dragon, a gargoyle, and a man. He or she—Daniel still struggled to distinguish genders—had red-gold scales; massive horns, the two largest of which curled behind his head like a big-horned ram; and broad, leathery wings that just brushed the floor behind him. His clothes were made of thickly woven and padded cloth, topped with leather.
Why ever she summoned me, I'd bet money it has something to do with their arrival.
From the stiffness of her posture and the anger in her eyes, Sujanha seemed extremely displeased with whatever had just been said by the Dovahkiin, probably a general within the Furling Army or the Dovahkiin Army contingent. Despite that, she greeted Daniel calmly and without any heat in her voice as he entered.
"You called for me, Commander?" Daniel asked, hovering just inside the doorway.
Might just need a spoon to cut the tension.
Butter-knife would work.
"Knight Commander Qethkroruth," Sujanha replied, voice tight but calm, "has raised a reasonable issue of how we are to deal with any guards and, especially, the prisoners on Netu during our assault. The Dovahkiin can only speak their own language, and few of the Iprysh can speak English without a translator. And," she paused and made a face that, if human, would have been wry, "it is not as if we can hope that those on Netu will speak English or even Goa'uld necessarily, except for the Tok'ra in the former case perhaps … if they live, and with a strike-force made up almost entirely of Dovahkiin or Iprysh … some might fear us as much as their captors."
Yea, all this does take a little getting used to.
"It would be too convenient," Daniel added wryly, "but …" His voice, trailing off, made his point for him. What's your point?
"Since you speak Abydonian and some Goa'uld and are quite skilled at communicating with new races, even those whose languages you do not speak, Qethkroruth has suggested that you accompany the soldiers as a translator," Sujanha finished, voice going tight again.
A human face that won't risk frightening some into an early grave.
Daniel thought for a moment. What Qethkroruth said—or rather what Sujanha had said he had said—seemed reasonable to him, but something about the suggestion had angered the Supreme Commander, and that fact made him cautious. "I've been in skirmishes with SG1 before, but never outright battle," he cautioned. "I would probably be a liability." A battle on Netu would be a far cry from the 'battle' in Apophis' mothership over earth.
And that got me … temporarily … killed. That itself was still a strange thought.
"No one expects you to be on the front lines," Sujanha said, shooting a pointed … glare … at Qethkroruth. "You would stay with the healers and be called forward only at need."
Daniel still hesitated. He was an archaeologist and a linguist by training, but his skill-set had been expanding during his time with SG1 and even more during the last eight plus months with the Furlings. Ruarc and Ragnar have been ensuring I know how to handle myself in a fight. Despite her clear distaste with something to do with the idea, since Sujanha was willing to even suggest the idea and not just slap it down instantly, she evidently thought he could do it. "I'm willing," he replied after another moment's thought, "if you can spare me, that is."
The first strike against Sokar was a three-pronged attack, expanded from the first plan of a sole attack on Delmak and Netu due to further intelligence in the days following Ocker's visit. Supreme Commander Anarr with his soldiers and one strike-fleet was going to capture Delmak and Netu. Sujanha would command the strike-force attacking Memphis, one of Sokar's most infamous and feared strongholds, known for being the home of terrifying monsters and a place of horrible experiments.[1]
(The mention of those final details had brought dark glances to the eyes of the Furling commanders and a curdling feeling to Daniel's stomach. Whatever Sokar had been having done there, it sounded much too similar to what had been done too many Furling and allied POWs during the Great War or to what the Nazis had done during WW2 on earth.)
Algar, with a third strike-force, would capture a world known only as Necropolis, a fearful world that served as a graveyard and a prison. There were as many rumors as fact about this world, and all were dark.
A prison … what are the chances there are Tok'ra there … among the imprisoned?
On both worlds, the Furlings only had a basic idea of what they face, which almost went against all Furling tactics, but …
The sooner Memphis and the Necropolis are under Furling control, the better … before who knows what risks getting freed.
Sometimes risks had to be taken to keep worse things from happening. All the Furlings could do was try to mitigate the risks. Hence the heavy weaponry, souped-up personal shields, and heavy infantry being called in.
No one needs the galactic version of Cthulhu or who knows what getting unleashed!
Sokar was ruthless. It stood to reason his underlings were, too, and sometimes ruthless leaders preferred the take-everyone-down-with-me strategy.
Under a law left over from the Great War, Supreme Commanders and High Commanders (or Generals) could not be part of the same attack, except under certain extreme (and quite rare) circumstances. No one wanted to risk a worst-case scenario where one battle could cripple the Furling Military by the death of much (if not all) of the senior commanders. By joining the group capturing Netu, Daniel would be absent from the Valhalla for as long as the first strike took, which could be days.
Chulak, Memphis and the Necropolis and Delmak/Netu will not be.
"I can," said Sujanha, before turning to Ruarc. "You'll go with Daniel. Come back alive and sound, both of you!"
"Of course," Ruarc said, moving back to give himself room to bow deeply. "Good fortune then, and safe journey, Supreme Commander, Knight Commander." He moved towards the door, motioning Daniel to follow. Qethkroruth remained. Daniel bowed and repeated the same words.
"Be careful," replied Sujanha with a nod of acknowledgement, deep concern still clear in her eyes.
Ruarc led Daniel out from Sujanha's office but turned the opposite direction from the one they usually took.
"The Commander isn't happy with the Knight Commander's suggestion, is she?" Daniel asked Ruarc quietly once they were half-way down the hall.
"She cannot deny that what Commander Qethkroruth is suggesting is sensible, but no, she still does not appreciate the last moment suggestion or having to have you put in harm's way, though there is more at play than just that," Ruarc scowled briefly. Ancient history I don't know about? "We all lost much during the Great War. Most of her family died, as well as at least five of her aids, so she has a tendency to be quite protective of you all."
The room(s) to which Ruarc led Daniel was, apparently, the armory or maybe some sort of storage facility if they'd run out of room in the former. Ruarc claimed several weapons for himself—only one of which Daniel recognized because it bore a resemblance to a Zat—as well as heavy-duty personal shields, reinforced body armor, and breathing masks, much like Jaax's, for them both. Ruarc quickly explained how the heavy-duty personal shield differed from the one in his gauntlet and how to use the breathing mask. His explanation had barely finished when he was commed a warning, and two minutes later, they were beamed across to one of the transport ships soon to leave for Netu.
Furling transports, unlike motherships and their larger or smaller variants (all fighting ships seemed to be differently scaled variations of the same model), were made primarily for transport of people or supplies and for transport only. During the time that remained before the assault on Netu began, Daniel quickly discovered that these transports were not made for convenience and had few of the amenities of the larger ships, except those for the permanent crew. Most of a transport ship was taken up by a large, heavily shield cargo hold that could not be opened to the atmosphere. The areas for the troops on more than short-hops were … almost dorm-like.
It was what … a 12-hour trip from Asteria to the Milky-Way at max speed?
Most trips don't take anywhere near that much time. Even Ida is less than an hour away from Asteria. It's half-an-hour from one extreme edge of Avalon to the other.
The strike-force that would capture Delmak and Netu dropped out of hyperspace far outside the bounds of the solar system, and there they waited for some time, cloaked and silent, or so Ruarc said the plan was. As go-time approached, the ships, still cloaked, slipped forward under sublight power and silently sailed toward Sokar's homeworld.
Daniel knew he should be nervous, but he wasn't yet.
For the moment, safe inside a Furling ship—he could have convinced himself that he was just in another room on the Valhalla if not for all the gathered soldiers—what they would face on Netu was all a future, theoretical thing, not yet painful, probably terrifying reality … of the battle and the horrors that he was soon to face.
That would come soon enough, though.
Even for the Furlings, battles could go sideways without warning.
At a verbal signal over the ship-wide comms, all the Dovahkiin and Iprysh soldiers started moving into battle formations. Daniel and Ruarc, along with those whose uniforms marked them as healers—mostly Dovahkiin along with a number of Furlings—were moved to the centers of those formations, which seemed largely circular. That shape, Ruarc explained, would largely break down as they were forced to adapt to any terrain that they encountered on Netu, but it would provide security against an ambush or an attack as soon as they beamed down.
Once they were in place, Ruarc helped Daniel fit his breathing mask across his face. The air he was breathing in was cool and on the dryer side, and his glasses were not fogging up, which was good. Better hope they don't fall off, or I'll be in trouble. At Ruarc's direction, Daniel also brought up his personal shield but pulled it in so that it was skin-tight, which would allow for closer formations in cramped spaces without shields colliding.
"The bridge will give us a little warning before it is time to beam to the surface."
"I thought Ocker said Netu's atmosphere was too thick for ships to make it through." And I'm pretty sure that was one thing nobody tested. Too much of a chance of detection. "How are the sensors going to work through all that?" The breathing mask was comfortable but odd, making every breath hissy and echo-y.
Ruarc gave Daniel a dry look as he fitted his own much larger breathing mask across his muzzle. "The atmosphere is too thick for Goa'uld ships, but our ships shouldn't have a problem. There are no ground defenses on Netu because of the conditions, so the transport ships will just pierce the atmosphere. We have heavy shields."
Shouldn't have a problem?
"Shouldn't have a problem?" Daniel asked with a slight gulp. This day is just getting better and better. Despite Sujanha's faith in him, he was starting to fear like he might be in over his head. "Is one ship going to be a Guinea pig then, or all the ships going to go for it while we all cross our fingers?"
Ruarc cocked his head, puzzlement clear. "What is a Guinea pig?" he asked. "How does it have anything to do with our ships? And why would crossing our fingers help anything?"
Having to explain the concept of a Guinea pig and of crossing one's fingers to Ruarc was a sufficient distraction from his nerves that the next minutes passed quickly.
"In the event anything goes wrong," Ruarc finally said, once the topic was off English idioms, "there are only two rules you need to remember. First, do NOT panic. It's the worst thing you can do and likely to lead you into even greater peril." Yea, I can believe that. "Your personal shield can withstand staff-weapons fire for some time or even a rock fall. You also have your gauntlet, which will serve as a backup personal shield and has your distress beacon. Second, whatever happens, stay beside me or one of the others. We are safest together."
Could the ships even beam us out from inside the caves/tunnels/whatever?
Somebody has to have thought about it.
Having to fight our way out of the tunnels in an emergency to get beamed out … even with personal shields, Daniel could imagine many ways that could go very wrong, very quickly.
Daniel nodded. The nerves were really curdling in his belly now. Here he was, an archaeologist and a linguist by training, about to be in a battle, a real battle, not the skirmishes of a sort before. Even the battle on Apophis' battleship was a far cry from what this attack was going to be. He could put his skills to good use, but Daniel still felt out of place.
Just don't screw this up.
It was immediately clear when the transport ship began to pierce through Netu's atmosphere. The series of bumps and jerks and shimmies were quite noticeable compared to the usually smooth ride, but nothing was so bad that Daniel couldn't keep his feet after the first hard jerk that necessitated Ruarc grabbing his arm to steady him. His friend then showed him a better way to stand, and then he was okay. Ruarc also explained the reason for the bumpy ride: the navigator would have had to dial back the inertial dampeners to make it through the nearly impenetrable atmosphere.
Why exactly that was necessary, he didn't say.[2]
Sam would know.
Not long after, an announcement came over the Furling version of an intercom/loud-speaker. "Prepare to beam out."
"Cloaks have no hope of hiding a ship punching through this atmosphere. If there is some sort of lookout system on Netu, we have to move quickly or risk losing the element of surprise," Ruarc murmured.
A minute passed.
One final warning.
A flash of white engulfed his group.
It was time.
Netu was hell, metaphorically and almost literally, too.
It took only seconds after beaming down to the surface for Daniel to realize how fitting the comparison truly was.
Mountains towed up all around the plain on which they were standing. Fiery rivers of lava crept down the mountain sides and even across the plains, more distantly. The air was choked with haze and fumes that obscured sight-lines, and Daniel knew that he would be struggling for breath without his mask. Here and there, the dark, foreboding landscape was interrupted by towering crags and jagged cracks that rent the landscape.
Hell, indeed.
All you need now is the screaming of the damned …
(They'd probably find that soon enough.)
The soldiers on the outer rings of the formation quickly spread out, securing the immediate area and looking for nearby entrance ways into the caverns below. Three tunnel systems were discovered within minutes. The large group that Daniel was in split evenly into three sections, one taking each passageway. (Other groups beaming down across the planet would be infiltrating other tunnels at the same time.)
The tunnels were roughly hewn and dimly lit with an eerie, reddish glow. The Iprysh and the Dovahkiin, used to such conditions, moved easily in the lead, walking without hesitation, checking and clearing every side-passage as they passed. Hampered by his poorer vision, Daniel struggled to see in the dim light and stumbled several times, Ruarc steadying him each time. Daniel could feel his heart pounding with every step. The tortured moans and screams of the prisoners, now audible, which echoed in and drifted up the tunnel, did not induce calm.
Trial by fire, literally. Daniel thought ironically. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Just stay calm. You're not under fire … yet. You've got two shields … and … a Ruarc.
He had been in pickles before with SG1 and in his time in the Middle East as an archaeologist.
Looters, rebels, and troublemakers were often problems at ancient ruins.
The quiet and easy passage lasted only minutes.
Two burly men, possibly not Jaffa given the lack of forehead tattoos, but probably guards nonetheless, suddenly appeared out of a side tunnel right ahead of the advancing troops. One let out a shout of surprise and turned to make down the main tunnel, while the other advanced toward the Iprysh and Dovahkiin in the front line.
Towards the back of the column, Daniel only got a few quick glimpses as the tunnel descended into chaos. An Iprysh strode forward, standing a head above his fellow soldiers, and lifted one arm. A bolt of streaking blue fire flew out from some sort of weapon mounted on his arm. His first and second shots, fired in quick succession, missed, hitting the tunnel wall in a spray of stone fragments, but his third shot clipped the man's leg, and he fell headlong with a cry. At the same time, the other enemy guard, who bore a wooden staff, advanced against the front line, his staff a blur of movement. One blow at least must have connected since Daniel heard one of the Dovahkiin roar in pain—they wore heavy body armor, but not shields because of some complication with their wings—but seconds later, the guard himself went down with a howl of agony that made Daniel's blood curdle.
Rekdurlaan, the Dovahkiin leader of the combined Dovahkiin and Iprysh strike-force, began to bark out orders. With the weird way the tunnels were distorting sounds, it was hard for Daniel to understand what he was saying, even with the aid of his translator.
Ruarc, who had immediately stepped forward to physically shield Daniel and the other healers, relaxed … somewhat … for the moment. "Most anywhere else, cries like those would instantly reveal our presence, but due to the … surroundings ... Rekdurlaan hopes that our cover … has not been blown."
The two enemy soldiers were moved into a dead-end passage and carefully restrained with bonds that took account of their injuries. A Dovahkiin healer quickly examined them to ensure that their injuries were not life threatening, and then, leaving two guards with the prisoners, the strike-force moved on.
The cries of the prisoners and the heat grew greater as they descended deeper through the tunnels. Without a breathing mask, the stench of filth and of suffering and death would have probably been almost overpowering. The whole situation reminded Daniel of reading Dante's Inferno in high school many years earlier. Netu was a place he would not soon forget.
The deeper into the tunnel system of Netu that the Furlings went, the more and more native guards they encountered. For the next two times, the strike-force's luck held, and they were able to relatively quietly take down any opposition, but on the fourth encounter, one guard escaped.
Rekdurlaan immediately increased their pace.
From the way the guards that they encountered so far had acted, it seemed that the Furling attack had not been discovered yet. That or the news just hasn't spread widely yet. The winding tunnels would make passing messages slower. Whatever the case, Rekdurlaan wanted to cover as much ground as possible before they were discovered and resistance increased.
The sounds coming up the tunnel increased as the strike-force descended deeper into the bowels of Hell.
A few minutes later, there was the sound of rushing footsteps coming up a side-tunnel.
That tunnel, which had just a moment before been cleared, led straight into the heart of the advancing strike-force.
Daniel and the healers were quickly shoved backwards, and the soldiers turned, weapons coming up and around to defend against whatever was coming.
A few heart-stopping seconds later, a figure almost barreled into the group. It took seconds to realize that this was not another guard, but a prisoner. His garments were tattered. Open sours dotted his skin, and several bloody wounds were staining his already filthy garments red with blood.
Fear lends wings!
For a moment, the prisoner halted, just inside the circle of Ipyrsh and Dovahkiin weapons. His already thin and sickly face blanched pale. He froze like a statue, immobilized by fear, for a split-second. Then he started to back-peddle towards what must have seemed to be the safety of the side- tunnel but only managed to trip over his feet and fall to the ground. He scuttled backwards on hands and feet until he was cowering against the tunnel wall, hands up to protect his face.
The man began to babble at a quick pace, words tumbling one over the other at a frantic pace. Though he only caught one word in three, Daniel still recognized the language he was speaking as relatively similar to Egyptian and Abydonian. "I need to get up there," he said to Ruarc urgently. "I can understand him."
I hope.
Ruarc pushed his way up through the lines, Daniel moving along in his wake. Rekdurlaan moved to join them. "Can you understand him?" The Commander asked, the harsh sounds of his own language translated by the translator pinned to Daniel's collar.
"Enough," replied Daniel. Up close, the prisoner's babbling emerged as the galactic version of "Please, please, please don't kill me. Don't kill me."
Using a butchered mix of Abydonian and Goa'uld with a few hand gestures for good measure, Daniel quickly calmed the prisoner down, reassuring him that he was safe, would not be killed, and was soon to be freed from his imprisonment. After the first rush of immobilizing terror had passed, the prisoner, who said that his name was Ahmose, a very familiar Egyptian name, was willing to answer questions, though he was still visibly wary of anyone … not Daniel.
Ahmose revealed the reason for the increasing noise coming from not that far down the tunnels. A nearby strike-team had reached one of the main caves—living/gathering areas, for lack of a better word—and had engaged in battle with Na'onak, the Lord of Netu's … whoever he is … First Prime, and a number of the other guards.
Only this First Prime had a staff weapon, his guards being armed only with wooden staves, but he had the advantage of a good, sheltered position and shown a willingness to shoot anyone—even the prisoners and his own guards—to keep the Furling troops, who wanted to minimize collateral damage at all costs, at bay.
Only one staff weapon … that makes our lives easier.
Happy for collateral damage … oh, wonderful.
Rekdurlaan sent Ahmose with one Ipyrsh as a guard back up the tunnel to where he had left the last pair of guards with the captured enemy guards. Once they were gone, Daniel and the others continued down the tunnel.
The main cave was full of chaos as the Furling troops reached one of its entrances. Weapons blasts filled the air, creating a haze where they had struck the walls, people, and other objects. Daniel could hear shouting in several languages, including Goa'uld, and the screams and moans of injured men. His strike-force immediately split up, some entering the battle and others going off side-tunnels to secure the area to help prevent the Furling troops from being outflanked or attacked from the rear.
The healers, fearless in their duty even when weapons blasts struck their personal shields, entered the battleground, bending low to drag the injured out of the line-of-fire, no matter whether they were members of the Furling army, prisoners, or some of Na'onak's guards. Daniel, in what he considered to be one of the bravest or dumbest actions of his life, helped, spending some of the most terrifying moments of his life helping to drag bodies, some near dead-weight, out of immediate danger. Most Furling injured were Dovahkiin soldiers stuck down by weapons fire or injured by blunt force trauma, though one Iprysh, not one from Daniel's group, had had their shield fail. Their armor was blackened and dented in several places, and they were limping, but their armor had somehow held.
Towards the end of that battle—one of many happening simultaneously across Netu—Aaraav, one of two female Dovahkiin healers in Daniel's group, appeared out of nowhere out of a side tunnel, running towards them without calling out a warning. Only the quick reflexes of Reythvudu'ul, one of the tallest and brawniest of the Dovahkiin soldiers, kept her from receiving a crippling blow to the legs.
Aaraav made straight for Ruarc, rattling off a string of words in her own language. There was enough ambient noise that Daniel, only a few paces away, helping another healer tightly bandage a gushing wound, could not understand what she was saying. Ruarc did, his eyes going wide and horrified before careful blankness replaced horror. A minute later, Daniel was finished and bolted over to join them.
"The three missing Tok'ra operatives have both been found in a side chamber along with other prisoners, the suffering left to die before they are raised again," said Ruarc. "We must go to them."
Daniel went pale but followed Ruarc and Aaraav and several guards back up the tunnel, leaving the noise of battle to fade behind them. As they threaded their way through the tunnels, Daniel steeled himself for the horrors he was about to see. Prisoners left to suffer and die … it would never be a pretty sight.
(There were three missing Tok'ra: Ar'sif and his host Arvuk, Jarruc and her host Teti, as well as Selmak, whose host had not been named. Less common, but not unheard of during the Furling interactions with the Tok'ra.)
The cavern Aaraav led them to was small, made even smaller by the bars that divided it up into multiple cells. Five of six cells were occupied. The sixth had been occupied, but the man inside was so … visibly dead … that Daniel's stomach rolled. (He forced his eyes away.) There was nothing healers could do for him … without a sarcophagus, and that was a length the Furlings refused to go to.
There was a mix of prisoners and healers in the other five cells. Of the maybe dozen or so living prisoners, some were probably not long for this world, given the way the healers were muttering. The largest of the cells, which also was getting the most attention, had three prisoners inside: two men and one woman … the missing Tok'ra.
One of the Tok'ra, a younger man, was dead, and a Dovahkiin healer was gently straightening his limbs as Daniel approached. Selmak, whose host was an older, grizzled man who looked like he might be vaguely familiar, was conscious, though obviously weak, and speaking quietly with the healers next to him. Teti was stubbornly clinging to life, another healer who waved Daniel forward said, though her symbiote had already died, and she herself had little time left.
Teti, whose darker skin and dark hair would have marked her of probably Middle Eastern descent on earth and who would not have looked at all out of place on Abydos, was half-conscious when Daniel knelt by her side but not totally lucid. Her hand, which Daniel took, was blazing hot, and mumbled words in her own tongue spilled half-formed from her lips. He was thankful that so many worlds conquered by the Goa'uld spoke some form of ancient Egyptian or a near-derivative.
"Am I dreaming? Are you really there?" Teti asked finally, dragging her eyes open. Who knew what phantoms formed by the fever had come to her when her symbiote was too weak to heal her any longer?
"This is real," Daniel replied, struggling to keep his voice level.
"I'm alone," Teti whispered, forcing words across her cracked lips.
Considering that Teti had not been blinded and there was enough light in the dim room for her to see him, Daniel assumed she was referring to her symbiote's death. "Just for a little while," he replied, glancing across at Ruarc, who had knelt on Teti's other side. "You'll be with her again soon."
If there's any mercy and actually something after this life … The Furlings believed there was, at least. Daniel wasn't always so sure.
Teti's eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she could summon the strength to open them again. "Who are you?"
"The Tok'ra High Council requested our help. We are the Furlings," said Ruarc through Daniel. "The reign of the System Lords is fast ending, and you will be avenged. Rest now."
Teti gave a half-smile, saying, every word growing fainter, "I would … have … liked to see … the sun once…" Her eyes fell shut, and her chest stilled.
Ruarc touched her head gently in a final benediction. "Find peace, brave one. May you find swift passage across the Sea of Night."
The rest of Daniel's time on Netu—the rest of that day and the next two days—passed like a blur. The literal maze of tunnels beneath Netu's surface took much longer to secure than regular cities of the same size. Na'onak, the mysterious masked First Prime of Bynarr, was killed in the shoot-out in the cave and was later revealed to be Apophis, the late 'great' System Lord.
Shocked to hear of the First Prime's real identity, Daniel was pleased both to hear of Apophis' death and to know that his host's suffering was finally at an end. Bynarr, the 'Lord' of Netu who served only at Sokar's pleasure, was captured trying to escape to Delmak via a hidden set of rings in his quarters. Bynarr was a disgusting man whose presence made Daniel's skin crawl even after only a few moments in his general vicinity.
On the afternoon of the eighth day after the beginning of the campaign against Sokar, who had been killed during the capture of Delmak, Daniel returned to the Valhalla. The attacks on Necropolis and Memphis had been successful, if much lengthier, than the sieges of Netu and Delmak. After eating a few bites of lunch, an exhausted Daniel, subdued by his experiences on Netu, joined Sujanha in her office. Even before returning to her flagship and even more while onboard, he had heard many … rumors … stories … floating about concerning the "monsters" different groups had encountered while capturing those two other worlds and about the tombs of ancient Goa'uld found on the Necropolis. There were even rumors floating around that, maybe, some Tok'ra had been rescued from eternal imprisonment there, as well.
(There would be time enough to ask Sujanha about that later, if she didn't end up just telling him now, anyway. He was too tired to want to hear too much more about war and sieges. He wanted to sleep in a real bed, and everything would, hopefully, be some better in the morning.)
"I am glad to see you return," said Sujanha in greeting as he entered, visibly checking for any injuries.
"It's good to be back," Daniel replied, sinking into his usual chair with a tired groan.
"Ruarc tells me you performed well under fire and were of great service as a translator."
"I only wish I could have done more," said Daniel softly, thinking of Teti.
"You did all that was in your power to do. The dead are in the Maker's care now. The bodies of the Tok'ra will be returned to their people, and we will see that all others are accorded the honor of a proper burial."
There was silence for several minutes, and then Daniel asked, "Does it get any easier?"
Sujanha cocked her head. "Does what get any easier? Being in battle? Being at a death-bed? Or some other matter?"
"The first two."
"In some ways, yes, and in others, no," Sujanha replied slowly and thoughtfully, weighing her words. "Over time, a soldier becomes more accustomed to battle. He learns through painful experience how not to panic under fire, how not to let his feelings control him when a comrade falls, how to keep fighting when he is cold and tired and hungry. Yet, he still should not be unaffected by either battle or death. If he feels nothing when his enemy falls or his comrade dies, he has been in battle too long and must find a new occupation immediately."
She paused for a moment and then continued. "The Jaffa of Sokar who perished, they were our enemy, yes, but they are also the misguided slaves of a corrupt master, many of whom know no other path besides service and slavery and torment, save, perhaps, for death, though the sarcophagi prevent even death from being an assured escape. The Jaffa are not animals that we should rejoice at their deaths. They are living beings as we are with spirits like ours. They have families and ambitions and hopes, just as we do. Many among them will die as the Goa'uld fall and this galaxy is freed, but we should pity them, not rejoice at their demise."
"How do you all do it?" Daniel asked. "Keep fighting after thousands of years of war, after so many of your own people have already died. How do you do it? Why do you keep fighting?"
"How do we do it?" Replied Sujanha, with a sad and weary shake of her head. "I am afraid that I can say nothing profound. It is with difficulty that we do so many days, but we go on because we must. What else could we do? To give into despair, hopelessness, or even apathy, and stop fighting would render as naught the sacrifices of all who came before, would dishonor the memories of the countless soldiers who have made the ultimate sacrifice. We fight because it is our duty, because our work in this world is not yet done."
"One of our wise men once said, 'It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succor of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.'[3] By our carelessness in setting up our stashes in the Milky-Way or our negligence in failing to return for our technology or some other factor, the Goa'uld rose to power primarily on the basis of our technology. They have enslaved millions, killed millions more, and committed atrocities that cry out for vengeance. It is our duty to 'uproot' their evil and make right an ancient wrong. Then we may enjoy the peace we have won for ourselves at a great cost, and those in your galaxy may determine their own fates."
[1] Details on Memphis and the Necropolis are taken from Stargate SG1: Living Gods.
[2] Inspired by /works/6211903/chapters/14465911.
[3] Quote by Tolkien.
