1st of Vlopa, 6546 A.S.
(March 4, 2000)
Uslisgas, Asteria Galaxy

Almost two Furling weeks had passed since Sujanha and Daniel had unexpectedly encountered SG1 on Teucuria, a Furling-controlled military base in Avalon. Despite the tense and frosty reactions of SG1, Colonel O'Neill especially, after Malek's presence had been accidentally revealed when Major Carter had strayed too close, drawn by a scientist's interest in Vylt's armor, Midgard was still interested in further talks and in a possibility of an alliance, based on their common opposition to the Goa'uld regime. The Midgardians had a saying, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' I understand the point, though I'm not sure I agree with it.

During those intervening weeks, Daniel had met with his former teammates several times, both with and without the presence of one of High Councilor Amilcar's ambassadors to help advance matters. For now, any alliance with Midgard would be of a military nature only, though even that gave good flexibility with terms, for which Sujanha did not technically need any approval from or the oversight of a Furling ambassador to enact. And yet keeping the lines of communication open with Amilcar's office and staying on the High Councilor's good side, as the Midgardians would say, was useful, especially as our relationship is … tense, as it is.

Given Daniel's stories; what she knew of Midgard and the SGC from the Free Jaffa, the Tok'ra, and Thor; as well as her first-hand impressions during the encounter on Teucuria, Sujanha was not exactly sure what to think of SG1 or of the Midgardians overall. Adapting to work with diverse forms of government was something with which she was quite familiar. Most races in Asteria were ruled either by monarchies or by high councils. Given the long life-spans with which most Asterian races were blessed—even the Zukish there lived longer than the humans of Avalon—stable governments with low turnover of leadership were the norm. On Midgard, however, that seemed to be the exception, not the rule, especially on the latter issue.

And that was a concern. A major concern.

On Midgard, there was not even one country, one government to deal with, but more on one planet than Sujanha could almost wrap her mind around. (How could a world function properly with that many governments, that many countries? How did they get anything done? How do you facilitate international cooperation with that much bureaucracy?) In the United States, even, the government (depending on which branch) could turn over every two to four years, a time that seemed especially short and especially unsettling to the Furlings who were more likely to deal with centuries than even decades (to use the Midgardian terms). And with the heavy factionalism within the United States government, that frequent turnover had the potential for great impact on policies.

From what Colonel O'Neill had said, with the election of this new President of the United States, the political winds had shifted against the NID, meaning that Daniel could return without risking imprisonment. And yet … who was to say what this next election would bring in a few years' time? And yet … organizations like the NID, people like Colonel Maybourne who had led the charge against the Tollan, were insidious. Who was to say that they could not worm their way back into the good graces of the United States government and regain their lost power and influence?

There were so many unknowns, and Sujanha hated that.

It's also a good reminder of why I hate politics.

And yet … there were more complexities to be dealt with when considering a military alliance with the United States and Stargate Command. The Tok'ra. Symbiotes. Midgard was a valued ally of the Tok'ra (at least from the Tok'ra's point-of-view), but SG1's reaction to Malek's presence, even after her status as a Tok'ra had been clarified, was extremely troubling. What Major Carter had suffered at Jolinar's hands was unconscionable, and so was what all of SG1 had suffered at the hands of the Goa'uld more generally. Memories could last a lifetime, but it was one's duty when serving in a leadership position or as an intermediary with other races to not let such memories poison you against your own allies. Was it just the Tok'ra that were mistrusted by SG1 (by Stargate Command?) because of their being symbiotes? Did that mistrust apply to the host as well? Was it not just the Tok'ra (symbiote and/or host), but also non-human (non-humanoid?) allies in general that faced such discrimination and mistrust?

It was an issue that Sujanha would need to be aware of during the meetings with Stargate Command that would begin that day. How would they treat her symbiote?

Racism and xenophobia were not unknown in Asteria. In the middle of a war, one could not always be overly choosy in one's choice of ally. Though this is not the Great War. An alliance with Midgard … with the United States … would be useful but is not absolutely critical. That being said, such blatant issues could make potential interactions between the Midgardians and the wide array of races in the Furling army potentially problematic. The Dovahkiin would be even more … alien as Midgard might see it—Sujanha cringed at the descriptor—and with their strict systems for interactions, such reactions … things would not end well. We will see what happens today. If such behaviors are widespread …

*I know you like to consider all eventualities, but don't get ahead of yourself,* noted Malek, rousing from her own thoughts.*This issue may not be more widespread than just a simple dislike of me because I am Tok'ra.*

*Yes,* Sujanha acknowledged. *However, it is still problematic EVEN if there is only tension between some in the SGC and the Tok'ra. Especially in Colonel O'Neill's case, one so openly … biased? … distrustful of? … contemptuous? … of symbiotic allies, simply because you share a species with the Goa'uld, is a poor choice in leaders.* His blatant prejudice and bias against the Tok'ra, allies also of Midgard, did not reflect well on him or his command and were not fitting of a soldier as high in the command structure of the SGC as he was.

It was frankly insulting.

With all those thoughts rolling around in her mind, Sujanha actually felt apprehensive for the first time in quite some time as she readied to meet with a potential ally. She, Daniel, and their bodyguards, including Vylt and Ragnar, were standing before the Stargate on Uslisgas as it dialed Midgard. Daniel was nearby, saying goodbye to his wife and little Shifu, who was growing … what was that strange Midgardian idiom … like a weed and would be, as fast as Zukish children grew, not 'little Shifu' much longer. Weeds were unfortunate things to have in gardens, but somehow in English, "growing like a weed" was a positive descriptor in terms of children's growth rates. The oddities of languages!

At that point, Ragnar, who had been called aside by a technician a few minutes before, returned to her side, rousing Sujanha from her troubled thoughts. "The Valhalla has entered orbit around Midgard."

"Very good. I assume Ulfar was extremely careful when entering their system? It would not do for the Midgardians to detect its presence." Sujanha continued to find it both puzzling and troubling that the existence of the Stargate was not public knowledge on Midgard, despite the continued threats that the planet faced. Yet another complexity of an alliance with Midgard. The Stargate was in the hands of one nation, and it was that one nation leading the Midgardian charge against the Goa'uld, making decisions and involving itself in affairs that could have world-wide consequences for Midgard, would have already if Apophis' invasion had not been turned back.

Joint protection was a fundamental issue in the military treaties that the Furlings made. There would be little, for now, that Midgard could do for the Furlings in that regard, but if the Furlings were ever called upon to protect Midgard, there would be two battles to fight: one against the enemy and one involving all the strategic and tactical contortions to fight that battle WHILE attempting to keep any signs of her ships or the ongoing battle from being discovered by the Midgardians on the surface. How does one even begin to hide the signs of a major space battle? Fighting while cloaked is likely to end in trouble. Such contortions could have consequences.

"Ulfar was careful," Ragnar replied. "He dropped out of hyperspace well-beyond the confines of the system, cloaked, and traversed the rest of the distance under sublight power." Ulfar was the typical commander of the Valhalla when Sujanha was not onboard or was off duty.

That was one contortion already required, and no alliance had even been made yet. Yes, the Furling sublight engines were extremely fast … but not as fast as their hyperdrives. It took time to drop out of hyperspace that distance from their destination, out of sight of satellites and telescopes, and continue under sublight power. Especially with military endeavors, wasted minutes here and there added up.

"Good. Is all else prepared?" Sujanha asked.

"Yes, Commander." Ragnar nodded. "We are ready to depart at your command." The Stargate stood open, its blue event-horizon illuminating the room with strange rippling shadows.

"Then let us depart." Sujanha confirmed. Before I change my mind on whether this is even a wise idea. "Please, go get Daniel." As she spoke, she turned back to look at Sha're and Shifu, who was waving at her, and she waved back.

Ragnar nodded and crossed the room with long strides, leaving Sujanha again to her troubled thoughts. In the back of their shared mind, Malek was staying unusually quiet and had been all morning, especially for her, since her symbiote seemed to have opinions on everything.

*Hopefully, this General Hammond is less prejudiced than his second-in-command, or this meeting will not go well,* Sujanha mused, returning to the earlier line of thought.

Malek gave a mental snort. She had never met any of the Midgardians before Teucuria, having been at a different base when SG1 first found the Tok'ra, though she had heard stories from her friends about them. *Not all are cut from the same cloth. The Tau'ri did—without being asked—help us evacuate our base after Cordesh was revealed as a traitor. They risked their lives, risked capture to help us.*

And now they had another traitor in their ranks. Tanith, whom they hoped to use to feed false information to the Goa'uld ranks. Sujanha was not particularly enamored with the Tok'ra's plan. Using spies had the ability to go wrong in a multitude of ways.

*Undeniable, and that speaks well of them, but O'Neill is still my concern. He is second at their base, and seconds have power and, especially, influence. Such blatant prejudice does not bode well,* Sujanha noted. Subordinates regularly saw more than leaders might expect, and the prejudices of a second could lead subordinates astray.

*I do not expect to be liked by all, and I am not,* Sujanha added after a moment's thought. However, there is a certain level of respect due to any living being, and with those in positions of power, one should respect the office, if not the person. And with military officers, for the sake of working with allies, O'Neill should have learned how to, at least, give a veneer of respect.*

Host and symbiote paused their discussion when Daniel appeared at Sujanha's side, dressed in his usual Furling clothes, which looked close enough to his old Midgardian BDUs as to not be blatantly obvious. (He had his BDUs. Should she read something deliberate in his choosing not to wear them? He had not relinquished his ties to Midgard or the SGC, just cultivated new ones with the Furlings, with Sujanha and the Fleet.) Daniel seemed (to her) both excited and nervous, understandably so.

Sujanha turned, surveying her companions one last time. Daniel was at her right hand. The number of her bodyguards had been increased for the trip. Ragnar and Albjorn, so close in appearance that they could almost be twins, were several paces in front of her; as was typical procedure in cases like this, they would enter the Stargate first, with Sujanha and the others lagging behind enough that they could abort and remain on Uslisgas if all went wrong. (Ruarc's absence at his brother's side was still a gaping loss.) Vylt and Zaln Drisek were behind them, their armor colors muted to draw less attention, not that that would help much, Daniel had commented when they had gone over the plan for the trip the previous day.

("You saw Sam on Teucuria," he had said. "The Iprysh look like sentient robots or robots with AIs straight out of sci-fi." That was a term he promptly had to explain. "They're going to draw attention no matter what their armor color is.")

Finally, just off of and behind Sujanha's left hand and in front of Vylt and Zaln, was Drogvussik, the much older brother of Vaazrodiiv, whose particular shade of blue-green scales marked him as also a distant relation of the Dovahkiin royal line. Like his sister, he had not forsaken Sujanha after all that had happened and had remained a trusted elder and advisor whose advice she often sought, especially in situations like this.

(Daniel had said the Stargate ramp in the SGC was not wide enough for three to walk abreast.)

"Send the signal," Sujanha ordered a technician. They could not go through until the Iris on Midgard was lowered, or instead of establishing a treaty, Sujanha and her companions would find themselves setting sail upon the Sea of Night on their final journey home, their bodies scattered in atomic fragments only the Maker knew where. The wait was only a few seconds before the technician called back with the all clear. Sujanha gave the signal. Ragnar and Albjorn started forward, disappearing into the wormhole, and as soon as they gave the all clear, the rest followed.


Stargate Command, despite Daniel's description and stories, was not what Sujanha expected. The gate room was large, though after a moment Sujanha decided towering was a somewhat better word. A large observation room behind glass looked down upon them, and two large doors, one on either side of the room, would serve as bottlenecks, which could be both a help and a hindrance depending on the situation. The setup could have been much worse, but Sujanha was inclined to think that theirs on Uslisgas was better. But our technology is more advanced.

The Midgardians seemed to have taken Daniel's relation of Sujanha's dislike of ceremony into account, for only SG1, except for Daniel's young replacement, Nyan; an older man, whose face and bearing commanded respect; and a short woman in a long, white coat were present, along with those whom Sujanha presumed were the usual guards of the Stargate.

The ramp that led up to the Stargate was made of metal in a strange lattice pattern that hurt her feet. It was narrow enough that Ragnar and Albjorn could not step aside to let Sujanha and Daniel pass. Annoying at times, but probably good for security. At the bottom of the step, Ragnar and Albjorn were finally able to step aside, leaving Daniel and Sujanha facing the older man—who must have been Hammond—who was himself flanked by O'Neill and Teal'c.

The Jaffa's face was impassive, and whatever his thoughts were, they were hidden behind his stony facade. Carter looked a little uncomfortable. *She senses my presence.* O'Neill's … well, Sujanha wasn't sure what the best descriptor of his face would be. Pinched, perhaps. The gate guards seemed to be eyeing all the newcomers with a mixture of shock, awe, and wariness. The presence of four hulking, very alien guards plus Drogvussik seemed to have put them on edge.

Daniel stepped forward to do introductions. "Supreme Commander, may I introduce to you Major General George Hammond, the leader of Stargate Command." He then turned to the older man and continued, saying, "General Hammond, may I present to you Supreme Commander Sujanha Staðfastur, High Councilor and representative of His Imperial Majesty, Ivar, High King of the Furling Empire."

While this trip to Midgard had still been in the planning stages, Daniel had again warned Sujanha of the American views of empires, kings, and royalty. Inherent suspicion and allergic were the two comments that had stood out to Sujanha the most, though she had forgotten to ask him to explain the "allergic" comment. Those American views made as much sense to Sujanha as the notion of having a 'democracy' or a 'republic', despite Daniel's best attempts to explain the alleged political benefits of such a system. Why anyone would want the instability of constantly rotating government officials baffled her.

Introductions were quickly concluded with the bare minimum of tedious political speeches and stilted greetings and with the shaking of hands, a custom Sujanha disliked, because with the curling of the hands, she had to be extremely careful not to cut the other person with her claws. (It was worse for Drogvussik. Her claws could be retracted.) She was re-introduced to SG1 and introduced to the short woman, who was the chief healer of the facility, Doctor Janet Frasier, whom Daniel had mentioned from time to time. Teal'c greeted Sujanha respectfully, mimicking the Furling salute he must have seen during the interim meetings between Daniel and the Midgardians, a display of effort that greatly pleased Sujanha. O'Neill, however, shook her hand, while giving every indication to her that he would rather be doing anything but.

General Hammond, a polite and distinguished man, escorted Sujanha up a very narrow and steep curving staircase to the observation room where there was a large table and many chairs. Another shorter older man, whom General Hammond called Walter and who had the look of an indispensable aid, was dispatched to order refreshments, and Sujanha and the others were shown to their seats. These chairs were not made for Furlings or any of our builds. At least I do not have wings. In company such as this and in a situation such as this, copious amounts of shifting (or wiggling) to get comfortable would be highly undignified, so Sujanha settled herself the best she could as she sat down and prepared to endure. Poor Drogvussik would have a much more difficult time getting comfortable without getting his wings pinned between himself and the back of the chair. Oh, for the backless chairs common on Furling worlds.

General Hammond sat at one end of the table, as the leader of this discussion for the Midgardians and the highest-ranking member of the local military present. O'Neill sat at his right hand, with the rest of the Midgardians arranging themselves in order along the side of the table which faced the window. Sujanha had directed Daniel to seat himself at Hammond's left hand between her and him, and Teal'c had ended up across from her. Her bodyguards lined up along the wall behind her, except for Ragnar, who sat on her other side where he would be closer at hand, while Drogvussik was on Ragnar's other side.

Less desirable, but Ragnar wants to be close, and standing behind me would block me from rising.

"I bring you greetings and compliments, General Hammond," Sujanha began once all were settled, "from High King Ivar, my lord. We have heard of your courage in your opposition to the Goa'uld after having so unexpectedly found yourself on the galactic stage. Your fight is worthy of renown." Not all the choices the Midgardians had made in opposing the Goa'uld had been wise, but their tenacity and their courage after such a drastic reintroduction to galactic politics were commendable.

By her side, Daniel pulled out his tablet and began to make notes. He kept it carefully angled so that all Sujanha had to do was flick her eyes down to see his notes to himself or his snippets of guidance for her. Sujanha did not even have to turn away from Hammond or even move her head. The less noticeable, the better. (If he had suggestions or comments, Drogvussik would have to pass a message up the table, which would be quite noticeable unfortunately, but some things were unavoidable.)

"Thank you," General Hammond replied. "We have been very interested in meeting the Furlings since we learned of your people and the Alliance from your former meeting place on Heliopolis. We appreciate your willingness to treat with us."

"We are pleased to treat with you, as well. The Asgard, as well as the Tok'ra and Free Jaffa, speak well of you, and I believe this treaty will be mutually beneficial."

Whatever your government's foolish actions in the path, the rest of your world does not deserve to pay for that foolishness.

For some reason, the Asgard have named you the Fifth Race, and if there is ever a chance to rebuild the Alliance, Midgard will need support … and training.

The niceties continued on for some minutes. Political niceties, whatever the type of treaty, could not be entirely avoided. Sujanha made herself nod along, make the appropriate replies, while keeping her attention firmly on the Midgardian leader, despite her instincts—the crawling feeling up her spine—making her want to scan the room occasionally. Totally comfortable here, she was not. Finally, Walter returned with another soldier bearing drinks. A large pitcher of a harsh and bitter smelling beverage was parceled out to the Midgardians along with a number of small cups with tiny handles that would be quite problematic for Sujanha to hold. From Daniel's delighted face, she wondered if this was the coffee he had sometimes spoken of.

Proving himself more observant than some, Walter had brought a large mug with a large handle for Sujanha, better suited to her less dexterous paws. Before Walter could hand Sujanha the cup, Ragnar stopped him and carefully took it, instead. For a few seconds, he held it, letting the small device attached to the underside of his gauntlet, half-hidden by his sleeve, a device that Sujanha had seen a healer hand him that morning on Uslisgas, scan the drink. Only then did Ragnar hand the drink to Sujanha. The action, in most cases, was designed to be unobtrusive, a design usually accomplished if he were handed the cup first. The sudden action necessary to take the cup from Walter first made it much less unobtrusive.

*I am capable of detecting and filtering out poisons,* Malek noted dryly, seeing from Sujanha's thoughts what Ragnar was doing.

*You are, and I am supremely grateful for your companionship and watch-care, but Ragnar would feel that he had failed in his duties if you ever had to.* Half the reason she had bodyguards was to prevent another assassination attempt like during the Great War. The other half was to protect her from physical attacks.

The cup, which Sujanha could easily hold despite the different physiology of her paws versus Zukish hands, was full of what appeared to be brown water and had a small, strange bag floating along one side with its cord pinned to the outside of the cup. Daniel, who was happily sipping at a cup of that bitter beverage that smelled somewhat noxious, typed a brief message on his tablet and titled it slightly very casually as he shifted his things around to indicate Sujanha should look.

They gave you tea. The message read. Are you quite certain? Colored water does not fit under my definition of tea. Sujanha was politely suspicious, but the drink was warm and smelled pleasantly enough so she was willing to drink it, for diplomacy's sake. Malek snickered softly.

As the drinks finished being distributed, the healer discretely passed a note up the table to Carter. One benefit of having two consciousnesses in the same body was that, as long as extra movement was not required, Sujanha and Malek could have their attention fixed on two separate things simultaneously, while sharing the information learned from both between them.

"From what information Dr. Jackson has transmitted to me," the general asked, "this treaty is strictly a military one, correct?" Sujanha had a good feeling about the Midgardian general. Daniel had spoken well of him, and he seemed quite competent and sensible.

Sujanha nodded, fighting back the urge to shift positions. "Yes, as Supreme Commander, I only have the power to create military treaties. All other treaties require the presence of a Furling ambassador and are usually accompanied by much more pomp and … debating … sometimes, arguing, over terms. Much more time is required to set them up."

There were multiple snorts of laughter. Hammond's calm composure broke for a second with the appearance of a faint smirk. Even O'Neill looked amused. From what Daniel had said of him, he was an "old school" type of soldier (whatever that meant precisely in Midgardian terms) with a deep dislike of pomp, politics, and, especially, paperwork. With such a dislike, Sujanha could commiserate personally. She had little like of those things either.

Sujanha quickly continued, "And a simple military treaty will be of more use to both our peoples for the time being." And what terms fall within the bounds of military treaties … well, I can tread the line, push it even, if useful. Not having an ambassador looking over her shoulder was convenient at times, when she needed to use her own judgment and not two-step the political dance of Council and Court.

"I'm sure," Hammond agreed, "though there are many on our world who would value an exchange of culture, as well, once the danger of the Goa'uld is past." And if there are more like Daniel working here, they would value the exchange of culture now, also, but one cannot please everyone all of the time.

"My people would enjoy that, as well. Our scholars have been greatly interested in the stories that Dr. Jackson has shared of your world and its many cultures from across the ages," Sujanha replied. (Daniel was not even trying to hide a grin. The amusement on his face fled when O'Neill muttered something almost inaudibly about "geeks." He had probably not meant the rash comment to be heard. What a "geek" was, Sujanha did not know, but from the resulting shift in Daniel's expression, it was likely not a compliment.) She continued, "Honestly, it puzzles me how one world can have so many peoples and still accomplish anything. Such … a … multiplicity of … governments on a single world is foreign to our galaxy."

Hammond smiled slightly. "It takes time and patience." The long-suffering look on his face was of one who spent much time battling bureaucracies. Or would that be for the impolitic comment of your second? He continued, asking, "Where do we begin?" Sujanha appreciated his straightforward manner. If Hammond disliked her, as his subordinate did, he, at least, did not show it openly. That is more than could be said of the Dovahkiin, with a few exceptions.

"The process is simple and straightforward, though not always as quickly concluded as one might wish," Sujanha began, resisting the urge again to shift. By the end of these negotiations, which she could only hope would be concluded the same day, she had a feeling that she would be quite stiff and sore.

Given the way his government and military functions, does he even have the power to treat with us? Or is he the mouthpiece?

If he has to confirm all of the terms with his leaders, that will extend the process, especially if military politics becomes involved.

For safety's sake, we prepared as if this could take some days. Algar knows what to do, and if there is an emergency here or abroad, the Valhalla is in orbit.

"I present the terms for the Furling Military," Sujanha continued after a moment's pause. "We negotiate. You present terms on behalf of your people … your country, perhaps I should say. We negotiate. Once the terms are finalized to both our satisfactions, we discuss how they will be fulfilled, and it is concluded."

"No treaty signing?" Hammond asked, making notes with one hand while his attention and gaze were still focused on Sujanha. Even when I could write with more skill, I could never manage to write without looking at the page. Unreadable handwriting defeats the purpose of scribing.

The expression on Sujanha's face went fixed, almost forced. The Furlings made written treaties … generally. It was the Dovahkiin who did not … generally. (In Asteria, what was a slight idiosyncrasy for a Furling commander was generally accepted and not-commented upon, since it was widely known that she had been raised on Drehond. The Dovahkiin way of doing treaties had become so entrenched in her that she did not think about doing things the same way she always had … until someone mentioned the difference, and the difference struck her in the face.)

Among the Dovahkiin, verbal contracts were used in many situations, especially short-term ones like this. Let your yes be yes and your no, no. Some terms might be written down, since memories could be faulty, though that was different from a formal written contract. Your word was supposed to be your bond. A written contract should not be necessary for terms to be kept and enforced. Only for long-term (by Furling standards) or in very important, high-stakes, formal contracts and, in those latter cases, often only with allied governments where records might need to be kept for generations were written contracts used. Like in my case.

*You've paused too long.* Malek was shouting at her. *Put it aside. Keep moving.*

Now Sujanha realized that Hammond was looking at her strangely. Her silence after that startling reminder had stretched uncomfortably long.

*Thank you.*

"Commander?" Ragnar asked in Furling, touching her shoulder and leaning in closer. There was barely hidden, open concern in his eyes. (Drogvussik was watching her closely, too. He would have recognized the slip, the implications more quickly. It was her unusual reaction that had prompted Ragnar's question.)

Sujanha shook her head and waved him off with a slight motion. "Forgive me." She gave no explanation for the reason for her silence and simply pushed forward. "I am not accustomed to doing so. Military treaties are by their nature limited in duration, and depending on circumstances, the terms can change based on need, sometimes rapidly. Of course, if you prefer, any treaty may be set in writing."

Hammond made another note on his paper. "We would prefer. Politics. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," Sujanha replied, forcing her facial expressions and body language back toward normal. Sometimes the memories of her time among the Dovahkiin—and the reminder that in some things she was more Dovahkiin than Furling despite her appearance—reappeared at the worst of times. You made your choices. Now you live with the consequences.

O'Neill made a note of something on his own pad and tilted it in Hammond's direction. Hammond looked over at his subordinate briefly before refocusing on Sujanha. "What do the Furlings want out of this treaty? Or should I say, what does the Furling military want?" The general asked.

"The latter is correct. However, if you wish to be exact, Midgard is making a treaty with the Fleet, not the Army, though both will benefit from the terms set out."

A puzzled look flashed across General Hammond's face. "I see," he said slowly. "You are in command of the Furling fleet only, correct?"

Sujanha nodded. "Yes, though my duties do overlap with Supreme Commander Anarr's in many situations. As to terms—what the military wants from this treaty—those things are straightforward. First, we need intelligence on the Goa'uld, including the major Goa'uld you have encountered or killed, any minor ones of note, all their numbers and tactics, worlds they currently control or once controlled, any information that can be of use to us in our war. Any information that could speed this war and reduce casualties on both sides."

"Why us? You can't get that information from the Free Jaffa or the Tok'ra?" O'Neill interjected somewhat skeptically.

"We can, to some extent." Sujanha readily acknowledged. "However, that intelligence does not fully overlap with what I believe you could provide us, and you might present the same data to us in different, perhaps more helpful." One valuable thing in commanding a military force that comprised many different races was that all the races went about war in different fashions. Different races conducted military training differently, thought in different patterns, and that meant intelligence was collected, examined, and transmitted in diverse ways. "Those of Midgard and those not of Midgard have been trained differently. You go about war differently, and that affects how intelligence is gathered and transmitted."

O'Neill made a slight face with an accompanying head tilt that Sujanha had seen enough times on Daniel to interpret as "Okay. I suppose that makes sense."

"We are also interested," Sujanha continued, "in information about the network of Stargates within this galaxy. Before our war against the Goa'uld began, many ages had passed since we last had more than cursory dealings in Avalon … your galaxy. Save for what Daniel has told us previously and the intelligence from our ancient allies like the Oannes who have not been lost to time, we have little knowledge of worlds with potential allies, with those peoples who must be protected, and those worlds that are best avoided. Such is not usually the focus of the Tok'ra and Free Jaffa, but I am told exploration is a major endeavor of your program here. Your teams are more likely to encounter a diverse range of worlds and peoples. Since this war began, our work has been largely focused on Goa'uld-controlled planets or uninhabited worlds, for our bases, and that has given us only a limited knowledge of the worlds here. Much has changed in the ages since we dwelt in Avalon."

The Asgard were of little help in that regard. Their attention was largely fixed on their own affairs, sparing enough attention to remain one bluff ahead of the Goa'uld in regards to the Protected Planets Treaty.

Discussion followed for some time. Sujanha's requests were straightforward, though not the simplest. Further questions were asked to elaborate on the details of what exact intelligence the Furling fleet was in need of, and there was talk about what types of information Midgard would be willing to share versus what might be privileged, how such intelligence must be conveyed the Sujanha, and the like.

Finally, after a morning of discussion, General Hammond called for a break once the Furling terms were reasonably settled, possibly except for agreement on behalf of America's government. Sujanha gratefully rose from her extremely uncomfortable seat and stepped away, back toward the circle of her bodyguards. Daniel remained at the conference table, talking quietly with the rest of SG1, in low enough voices that Sujanha could filter out the conversation with something else to focus on. Ragnar also rose from the table but stopped about half-way between it and the wall, angling his body so that he could ostensibly speak with the group and keep an eye on Daniel simultaneously.

"Is there anything I need to know?" Sujanha asked, switching from English into Furling.

*I greatly dislike English. The imprecision is horrifying, and the vocabulary is so … odd.*

*Be grateful that you have never had to speak Goa'uld on a regular basis.* was Malek's wry reply. Sujanha gave an internal shudder of agreement.

Albjorn shook his head. "No, Commander. Nothing to report from the Valhalla or Supreme Commander Anarr. All is well."

Sujanha glanced to Drogvussik next, the same question in her eyes. He shook his head, wings rustling slightly, a motion that she understood from having spent enough time with him meant he had no comment either, not that he was reluctant to speak here. That was reinforced by him adding after a moment's pause, "There was nothing unexpected in this phase of the negotiations, but if Ragnar is willing, it might be better if we switch seats when negotiations resume with Midgard's terms."

Ragnar turned his head a fraction, his displeasure with that idea clear in the momentary flash of bone-white teeth, but after a moment, he added verbally, "If you wish it, Commander. It is a risk, but with the seating … an acceptable one." Teal'c directly across from me and not O'Neill? His voice was slightly grudging.

Drogvussik gave her oldest bodyguard a look but, considering their audience, even speaking Furling and Dovahkiin, did not say anything. Though only an advisor and elder of great wisdom and renown now, he had fought at length during the Great War. He was older than his sister but not old and was just as capable of dragging Sujanha bodily away from danger as Ragnar was.

(Ragnar knew that. He was just … quite protective.)

Some minutes later, when the discussion among the Midgardians turned to the midday meal, Sujanha stopped intentionally trying to ignore their words for politeness' sake. General Hammond was saying something to Daniel about "having rooms prepared" and "food sent up." Having planets with even slightly different rotation cycles (and thereby different lengths of days) meant that the time of day on one planet could be much different from one another, which was why schedules onboard ships were set based on Uslisgas time. Conveniently, the times on Uslisgas and Midgard were comparatively synchronized for the moment, which made meal times easier.

*It would be more informative to eat in the mess hall. Considering O'Neill's opinion of us, it would be good to judge what the majority think,* Malek noted.

*Agreed.* Sujanha replied. She had been thinking similarly, it being her habit, when schedules and her own strength allowed, to eat with her men onboard the Valhalla.

As General Hammond had spoken, Daniel had turned to look at her, a questioning look in his eyes. Sujanha nodded assent but, still speaking in Furling, suggested the slightly alternate arrangements that Malek had raised. (Drogvussik inclined his head just slightly, agreeing with the new plan. More information would be beneficial.)

"We would prefer to eat in the commissary, if that's alright," said Daniel at a convenient pause.

That drew several startled looks Sujanha's way from the Midgardians. Perhaps, here, generals and commanders were not accustomed to working and eating among their men. It would be their loss if that was true, since much could be learned and bonds could be forged in the doing.

General Hammond was surprised but, after a few moments' thought, assented. SG1 escorted Sujanha, Daniel, and her bodyguards down a labyrinth of hallways, a horrible contraption called an elevator that seemed ricketier (and certainly noisier) than the lifts on Uslisgas or the Valhalla and set her teeth on edge, and then more hallways.

"If there's a chance," Daniel asked as they walked, "may I tell Sam about Rosha?" He mouthed the last words, instead of saying it aloud. Speaking a different language could not disguise the name, if anyone was half paying attention. "I think she'd like to know after you-know."

Sujanha nodded slightly, silent permission. It had been a (Furling) month exactly since that evening when she had been asked to come to Ardea, since that evening when they had discovered that Rosha had survived her separation from Jolinar, though it might have been kinder if she had not, given what she had suffered, how she was still suffering in many ways. Sujanha got an update on her from time to time. There were good days and bad days for Rosha, but overall, she was better … more aware, more cognizant of the fact that she was safe and that those around her were not humiliations or Goa'uld spies. Most importantly, the mind-healers were slowly coming to consider her less of a risk to herself as that awareness returned.

Healing, especially when it came to the mind, was rarely a quick or a simple thing.

The SGC's food hall was mostly empty as they entered. (Daniel whispered in Furling, "It's not quite time for the lunch rush yet.") What few Midgardian soldiers were there looked at the newcomers with a mixture of wariness, curiosity, and surprise. Those with the look of scholars about them seemed more interested in the arrival of the Furlings than wary. Several called out friendly greetings to Daniel, which pleased Sujanha, and there were some respectful greetings for Sujanha herself, as well, which interested her. Had those been on the intermediate meetings between the SGC and the Furlings, planning for this treaty discussion? What had prompted the greeting?

The Furlings and Daniel claimed two large tables next to each other along one wall, large enough combined to seat the seven of them, with plenty of room for elbows and wings. Sujanha gratefully took a seat with her back to the wall, while Daniel went off to see what was being served. He returned within a minute or two. "Meatloaf's the meat dish today."

Sujanha gave him a blank-look. Sometimes Daniel forgot to explain things. Just because he was speaking Furling did not mean that his words made any sense. "Which is … what exactly?" The English word was parse-able into two separate other English words. Sujanha knew what "meat" was, of course, and she thought "loaf" had to do with bread, but how the two went together to form a dish that was either sensible or edible, she did not know.

Daniel winced. "Oh, sorry. Meatloaf is made up of ground meat, combined with vegetables, eggs, and breadcrumbs, and formed into a loaf shape and then topped with tomato sauce."

I'm not sure I know anything more than I did before he explained.

What is a tomato? There might be a roughly equivalent vegetable in Asteria, but Daniel had not added a Furling identifier, simply used the Midgar … English … word. And why would you do that to meat?

"Very well."

With Vylt as an extra pair of hands, Daniel returned about ten minutes later carrying trays of food and drinks for all of them, save for Vylt and Zaln, whose eating habits were just as mysterious as almost everything else about the Iprysh. Once Sujanha and the others were settled with food and drink, he departed to eat with his old teammates. Ragnar and Albjorn set to eating, keeping an eye on Daniel and scanning the room for possible threats at the same time. Drogvussik was making notes on his tablet—it was the wrong angle for Sujanha to read the Dovahkiin script, even if she had been looking—and was paying more attention to that than the food beside him. Sujanha was left to her own thoughts.

The food that Daniel had kindly brought her barely looked like food to her in large measure. On her tray was a plate of this meatloaf dish—an entirely unappetizing brownish mass slathered in red sauce—a round red fruit that Daniel called an apple, and another mug of tea-that-was-not-actually-tea. In my opinion. Sujanha picked up one of the eating utensils and gingerly poked the meatloaf with the eating end.

*You're supposed to eat it, not poke it,* her symbiote interjected gently. Gentle was not exactly a common mental tone out of her sometimes temperamental and often opinionated symbiote, which meant she was worried about her.

*It looks more like sludge than food,* Sujanha replied, allowing the mantle of Supreme Commander to slip from her shoulders for a short time. *I'm not really hungry, anyway.* Despite Malek's best efforts, her body ached from a brief night's sleep—there had been many final preparations to complete before leaving Uslisgas—and from the morning hours spent sitting in that uncomfortable chair upstairs. Stress had a way of whisking her appetite away, even if the aches did not.

*You need to eat,* Malek protested. *You didn't have anything this morning except a piece of fruit and your tea. I have to have something to work with. I cannot keep our body functioning on next to nothing.* Even on the best of days, Sujanha rarely felt hungry. Chronic pain sapped at her appetite, and food had never tasted the same since she had been poisoned, though some of that she blamed on the medicines the healers plied her with. Getting her to actually eat often required copious amounts of gentle prodding and not-so-gentle bugging. (Ruarc was good at that.)

Somewhat reluctantly, Sujanha picked up her eating utensil and slowly ate several bites of meatloaf. That was all she could stomach. This is disgusting. The texture was extremely strange, the use of spices awful, and the sauce on top almost tasteless. Is it supposed to be sweet? Those with predominantly Maskilim blood could not taste sweetness. Though why would you put sweet sauce on meat? Her stomach rolled, and she pushed the plate away with a flash of teeth.

*Anything else I would offer to eat for you,* murmured Malek. Her senses were muted when she was in control, and Malek could eat some foods Sujanha disliked or couldn't stomach.

If they disliked the food, Ragnar and Albjorn showed no outward sign of it and were demolishing two large plates of the meatloaf with accompanying side dishes, while discussing … something. Lost in thought, Sujanha had missed too much of the context for their discussion to make any sense. She nudged her plate in their direction, confident that one of them would finish it off. She picked up the apple off the tray and carefully gnawed off a piece with one long canine. Its texture was more pleasant—quite crunchy—though it was also rather tasteless.

The problem of sweet things.

"Perhaps we should offer to provide the people of Midgard food, as well," Drogvussik said dryly a few minutes later. (Sujanha smirked slightly.) From his expression, he was much less fond of his food than Albjorn or Ragnar, the latter of whom was well known for his willingness to eat anything that would not poison him first, appeared to be.

Drogvussik was still eating, nonetheless. While the Dovahkiin had suffered no outright planetary attacks during the Great War due to the inhospitable conditions of their world, they had been forced to bury their Stargate and had suffered a blockade on multiple occasions, leading to many years of want. Unless the food would make them ill, no Dovahkiin would refuse the food put in front of them. Those were long, long years. We ate what was in front of us, or we did not eat.

Vylt extended one armored hand, scanning Sujanha's abandoned lunch with his sensors. His head was tilted in such a way to make her wonder what he was thinking behind his expressionless mask. "Should I be glad that I cannot consume the same food as your species?"

"That would depend on which of us you ask," Sujanha replied in Furling, glancing away for a moment to check on Daniel. He was in good spirits, it seemed, and was gesticulating wildly as he made some point or another. It was a somewhat amusing and endearing habit of his … as long as he did not end up smacking someone in the face in the doing.

Drogvussik stopped eating long enough to remove a small bag from his belt. "Asgardian rations," he rumbled, reaching across the table to set the bag down within Sujanha's reach. "Help yourself." Dovahkiin was not a language quietly spoken, and at his words, the eyes of some of the nearest Midgardian soldiers were again drawn to her advisor, more so even than to her, Ragnar, or Albjorn. She wondered why.[1]

Asgardian rations were cheap, easy-to-make, mass-produced nutrition tablets in various flavors. Opinions about them usually fell along species lines. Sujanha was ambivalent about most of the flavors but liked the blue ones, especially. She gave Drogvussik a nod of thanks and took several of the blue ones to nibble on. They were one of the few things she could eat with regularity.

*Do you want me to take over?* Malek asked. (Her attention had been split all morning between the treaty negotiations and some data analysis she was doing remotely for the Tok'ra.) Even in situations where she generally needed to be in control, she would often take over to give Sujanha a chance to rest during meals. Aside from those close to her who could tell the difference in body language, without the dual-flanged voice of a symbiote, no one could tell the difference.

*Please.*

Switching control was quite easy and not at all strange anymore. Sujanha took a mental step backwards, and Malek slipped seamlessly into control. With the resulting shift in body language, Ragnar cut a glance over quickly, showing that he had noticed the switch, but then went right back to his discussion with Albjorn. Sujanha closed her mental eyes and settled down to rest.

Some time had passed when Sujanha roused again. How much, exactly, she did not know. There was a Midgardian clock nearby, hanging on the wall, but clocks, numerals, and methods of telling time were very culturally specific, and Midgardian clocks were not something she knew how to read. (The English script, generally, was not something she knew how to read, though she could speak English well.) They were all still at the table in the food hall—here, of all places, Malek would have roused her if they had needed to move—but Daniel had returned to their table. Malek was mid-discussion with Vylt about something biochemical related, a side that she had not known about her bodyguard.

The conversation paused as Malek realized Sujanha had roused. *Do you want control back?*

*No, not yet. Just scan the room, please.*

Malek did so. *As you wish. Daniel thinks the talks will restart soon.*

Her symbiote returned to her conversation, and Sujanha settled back down, rousing slowly and listening to bits of the surrounding conversations. She relished the opportunity to have absolutely nothing to do, even for a brief time. Save for the years of inactivity during her convalescence after the Great War, work, work, and more work had been her constant companion for many years. Daniel, Sha're, and Shifu were doing wonders for giving her a life outside of work, people to always be able to come home to, but there was always work.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, a Midgardian soldier—young, fresh-faced, with dark skin and wide eyes, who could barely stop staring at Drogvussik and the Iprysh—arrived to tell them all was ready to restart. He escorted them back upstairs to the conference room overlooking the Stargate, rewinding their way through those labyrinthine halls and rickety lifts, which were not any more pleasant the second time through. As they walked, Malek returned control to Sujanha.

All seemed find until they entered the conference room, and then it went wrong. O'Neill was standing by the table, his face pinched and unhappy … even more so than some moments earlier, speaking with General Hammond in quick, curt tones. His voice was too low for Sujanha to pick out more than the tone all the way across the room. Carter was hovering by O'Neill's shoulder, face just as concerned. Only Teal'c seemed impassive and apparently unruffled.

Not that it would show, given he is Master Bra'tac's student.

The tension in the room was thick. Sujanha tensed immediately, picking up on the emotional undercurrents, and her bodyguards did likewise. She glanced at Daniel, who looked just as confused as she felt. He shrugged. What happened? What changed the dynamic? He seemed to have no more idea of what had happened to prompt this reaction from the Midgardians than she did. Ragnar, Vylt, and Zaln stepped forward, slipping into a semi-circle between her and Daniel and those around the table. She could still see them clearly, but there was a barrier between them. Albjorn remained at her elbow, and Drogvussik a step behind her and Daniel. Even without a personal shield, he would make a formidable rear guard in these close quarters until Albjorn could fall back to take his place.

Those two … three … four … guards are new.

"Is there a problem?" Sujanha asked pointedly.

O'Neill quieted, and Hammond turned to her. "To whom am I speaking?" He asked.

Excuse me?

Sujanha stiffened, her expression offended. "Supreme Commander Sujanha, of course. Who else?" Beside her and half-concealed behind Ragnar's bulk, Daniel winced. As anyone familiar with her knew, outside of introductions, Sujanha usually used her full title (A) with those whom she greatly disliked or (B) when she was angry and fell back on strict formalities.

"You tell us." O'Neill replied, his tone accusatory … unlike his superior's. He pointed a finger at Vylt, who visibly stiffened at the gesture, which was an insult among his own people. "One of your guards was overheard talking to your symbiote, who was not using the creepy voice."

The "creepy" voice? Sujanha understood the disrespectful insinuation from the tone of his voice, if not the exact nuance of the term. How unprofessional!

*Weren't you using Furling?* Sujanha asked. That would help avoid a problem like this. If all one understood of a foreign language were names, there were fewer clues of whether someone was speaking directly to someone or simply referring to them by name.

*Mostly. Not entirely, though.* The Iprysh had translators built into their suits, so they could have been speaking English, Goa'uld, or Asgard for all Sujanha knew. *There are some terms I don't know the Furling words for. You don't either.* Malek replied. *A couple of people passed by our table while you were asleep, but I would have thought the noise of the room would have largely concealed our voices. We were speaking softly.*

*Someone might have been spying on us.* It was always a possibility that had to be considered.

Sujanha touched Vylt's shoulder calmingly and replied in a frigid tone. "Is that a crime? Malek was having a private discussion with one of my bodyguards in low voices in a loud room. I am surprised that anyone would have overheard us." The implication was unspoken but clear. Unless you were spying on us.

O'Neill opened his mouth, but Hammond shook his head, and he stayed mercifully silent. I am quickly losing patience with his rash speech. Daniel was generally quite fond of O'Neill from all the stories, but SG1's commander had not made a good impression on the Supreme Commander so far. In other situations, he might be a good friend, but here he was a liability for the SGC. Angering potential allies would not end well for him or his career.

"No," the general replied carefully, "it is simply unusual and somewhat confusing for us. Usually, the Tok'ra make more of an effort to distinguish whether host or symbiote is in control." Is that an explanation or censure for my behavior? Or both?

"Such measures are not necessary among my people," Sujanha countered, tone firm and somehow even more frigid. "If you simply watch, which of us is in control is clearly visible. Moreover, Dr. Jackson introduced me upon our arrival. There has been no change of control during our negotiations. I am Supreme Commander. I am responsible for negotiation on behalf of the Furling military. If there had been any change which you needed to be aware of, it would have been made expressly clear. Dr. Jackson can vouch for this, and I am sure that you trust his word. Furthermore, there are more hosts among the peoples of the Furling Empire than I alone. We are close allies of the Tok'ra. That will not change. Any alliance will be unsuccessful if there is no trust between us. Beware of unfounded accusations. They will win you no favors among us."

You are allies of the Tok'ra, as well, though one wonders how much you truly trust them.

*The alliance is even due to be formalized in days.*[2] Malek noted, as an aside.

For several long moments, there was an awkward silence, and the tension in the room was so thick one could almost have sliced it with a proverbial dagger. Sujanha stared down the Midgardian officers with flashing eyes and waited to see how they would respond. She had done her best to back them into a verbal corner. Countering her statements would require denying Daniel's trustworthiness and might result in insulting her again.

Midgardian needed this treaty more than the Furlings did, so …

Finally, General Hammond nodded. "Thank you for clearing up the confusion. I'm sure we will get accustomed to your way of doing things." He gestured toward the chairs. "Please, sit."

Daniel, Sujanha, Ragnar, and Drogvussik retook their seats, with Drogvussik now at the commander's side. The other bodyguards, now rather less at ease, lined up closer behind than before.

"Where were we?" General Hammond noted, adjusting his pad of notes.

Sujanha thought it unlikely that Hammond had truly forgotten and surmised the question must be a Midgardian turn of phrase she did not understand. "We were ready to discuss what Midgard's terms in return for our requested intelligence are."

"Of course. What are you willing to offer?"

Sujanha was silent for a long moment. It was a question that she had pondered for days and a question with an answer that could not be influenced by her mood. Midgard is not endearing itself to me at the moment. "What do your people need?" She countered. "There are some types of goods I cannot authorize sharing, but I am willing to listen, nonetheless."

"Medical supplies," the SGC's healer exclaimed. "The Jaffa can barely hit the broad side of a barn some days, but their staff weapons can almost cut holes through our soldiers when they do connect. Soldiers are dying on my table, and I can't do a thing to save them, only make them comfortable. Don't get me started on Zats. Multiple alien epidemics … I don't have the equipment or the know-how to treat most aliens, including our allies …" Dr. Frasier shook her head, the picture of a healer thrown into "the deep end" (as Daniel would say) and struggling to keep body-and-soul together for herself and her patients both.

"Alien diseases, we can help little with that. Our contact with this galaxy has been almost non-existent for ages," Sujanha replied. She paused for a moment, listening to Malek, whose mind had latched on to the topic of "diseases," as it was somewhat related to her biochemistry work. "However, Malek says that the Tok'ra may be able to help with widespread diseases, though not necessarily planet-specific ones. Our healers can help to some extent with information on treating some specific species with which we have had dealings before like the Nox, the Asgard, the Oannes, and, of course, on helping Jaffa and symbiotes."

Many notes were subsequently scribbled, but when no more questions were forthcoming for the moment, Sujanha continued. "Beyond that, I am authorized to offer at least one healing pod and multiple healing devices, as well as the services of one or two healers to assist and teach you how to use our technology."

That got quite an excited reaction.

"Are your healing devices similar to the Goa'uld ones?" Carter asked after the initial fervor died down.

"Extremely, considering the Goa'uld stole that technology and most all else from us several ages ago." Sujanha ignored the resulting kerfuffle—Daniel had used the word once, and the Commander found it most amusing—of noise at that revelation and simply continued speaking over the top, raising the volume of her voice as necessary. "Our healing devices are not thirty thousand years out of date and do not require the presence of naquadah in the bloodstream of those using it in order to function."

The resulting conversation was quite jumbled with overlapping threads of discussion covering everything from how the Furlings had been careless enough to allow the Goa'uld to steal their technology and why they were only doing something about it now—a question that made Sujanha bristle. Now was not the time to even try to start explaining those events—to Carter's statement … something about her experience with healing devices, a statement that worried Sujanha. Experience and competence are separate issues, especially with healing devices. Other threads of conversation were going back and forth between the Midgardians simultaneously, making some bits of speech almost indecipherable.

"Captain Carter," Sujanha asked when the room had finally quieted some minutes later, "do you have training as a healer?"

Carter blinked, seemingly surprised at being addressed directly. "No, not beyond the basics. Triage for out in the field and the like," the soldier-scientist-second of SG1 replied.

Sujanha cocked her head slightly. "Do you believe you know how to use a healing device?" Pointed questions could backfire, but there was a point to this. In the hands of an inexperienced user, a healing device could cause more havoc than good. That needed to be made clear. Lest you court death for yourself or those you attempt to save.

"I've used the Goa'uld device successfully."

"How many times?"

"Once. On Cronus." Now Carter cringed slightly, perhaps in remembrance of the attempt or of the one she had saved. "I've done more work in practice."

Sujanha shook her head. "Your success then was more from luck or blessing. In the hands of an inexperienced user, a healing device can just as easily kill someone as bring them back from the foot of the pyre. A healing device accelerates a body's healing beyond all normal measures, even beyond a symbiote's capacity to heal swiftly. One needs to have a skilled knowledge of the body and its processes, since it is just as possible to set a broken bone in the wrong position or reattach damaged innards to the wrong organ as to actually heal a person. In desperate cases, a healer can even kill himself from the strain of trying to heal the wounded. Healing devices must only be used with great care … for your own sake, as well as those you seek to heal."

Carter paled and went a little green. She understood.

"We will be happy to provide medical assistance, including technology, healers, and supplies well-suited for traumatic field injuries," Sujanha concluded, turning her attention back to General Hammond. "What else?"

"Big, honkin' space guns." O'Neill declared.

Daniel warned me, and yet I'm still surprised.

Does O'Neill not consider how impractical his desire even is?

"No," Sujanha replied definitively. That got several stony looks. She knew that the issue of more advanced races not sharing their technology was a touchy subject at the SGC. The Tollan are not always the most diplomatic. "Let me explain why. First, you have no ships to mount ship-to-ship weaponry on, and I am not authorized to provide you with ships that you do not have the skill to man or the ability to maintain. Furthermore, unless you have only recently revealed the existence of the Stargate to the inhabitants of your entire world, you could not conceal the use of ground-to-ship weaponry."

As the Furlings saw it, it was the height of foolishness to simply give a less advanced race great technological advancement if they had no conception of how to operate, troubleshoot, or repair that technology. Misused healing technology could kill a few people before the mistake was discovered. The misuse of weaponry or generators could kill thousands or thousands upon thousands or even destroy an entire world. As the Tollan discovered.

"If that changed, we might reconsider," Sujanha continued. "We would, however, be willing to offer staff weapons and stunners that are not grievously out of date. Our stunners are just as effective but are not so overpowered as to come with great physical risks. Our staff weapons are much more accurate than the Goa'uld abominations with a much greater range and rate of fire. They are more than weapons of intimidation for a force of poor marksmen."

At those words, there was a light in Teal'c eyes that matched the one in Chakrechi's whenever there were new weapons systems to test on the Valhalla or otherwise.

"The Jaffa should audition to play stormtroopers," someone muttered, a comment which made Daniel snicker, obviously catching a reference that Sujanha did not understand.

"Are the personal shields in the Goa'uld hara-kesh your invention?" Carter asked.

"Yes, we created it, though it has been greatly corrupted. It was once an instrument of defense, not an instrument of torture," Sujanha replied, noting the dark look that entered O'Neill's eyes at the mention of the hara-kesh. She tugged the sleeves of her jacket and tunic up to reveal the gauntlet on her left arm. "The hara-kesh is a much-corrupted version of this. There is no good translation in your language, but I believe Dr. Jackson simply calls them 'gauntlets.' They include personal shields, which do not have the weaknesses of the Goa'uld versions." Turning back to Hammond, she continued, "we would be willing to share shields for a limited number of your teams."

We do not have the stock to do so for all, even if that were advisable. What could be used to fight the Goa'uld could be used against the Furlings.

"By weaknesses, do you mean their vulnerability to objects with low kinetic energy?" Carter had a look in her eyes that promised many questions and much research to follow.

Unfortunately, Sujanha did not follow. She glanced at Daniel, a puzzled look in her eyes. Kinetic? He nodded. "Yes," Sujanha replied, trusting Daniel's knowledge of scientific terms in English.

Carter bent over her pad and began to scribble furiously for several long moments, before Hammond cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to the matter at hand.

"We would be very happy to have personal shields for our front-line teams, especially," Hammond said. "The Jaffa are usually poor shots, but we have lost a lot of good men to them and other incidents off-world." The faces of all around the table were somber. All around the table, Furlings, Midgardians, and Jaffa, had lost good men, good friends, even family to wars across the ages.

"The loss of good men is greatly mourned for the sake of their comrades and their kin. Weaponry can be easily replaced, but good men not so," Sujanha said quietly. After a beat of silence, she added, "One other piece of technology that we are willing to offer is an early warning system, a small satellite with long range sensors and its own dedicated shield. Dr. Jackson tells me your system for detecting ships in your solar system … has its weaknesses, and since we do our best to send military support to our allies when they are in need, it would be helpful to know of threats before they are at your gates. It would be linked to a console installed in your base."

(This system could pick up anything from Goa'uld ships to large asteroids … but not Furling or Asgardian cloaked ships. The system was also locked to prevent its code from being studied by non-authorized personnel.)

"Earth is part of the Protected Planets Treaty," Hammond noted carefully.

"Which is valuable, but there are some threats the Asgard cannot protect you from," Sujanha countered.

Possibly even the Goa'uld, depending on the year and how the war with the Replicating Ones progresses.

"Like…." O'Neill drawled.

Sujanha shook her head and leaned back in her chair that had not grown any more comfortable as the day wore on. "These are matters I can speak no further of."

"Can't or won't?"

"Colonel." There was a very pointed warning note to Hammond's voice, and O'Neill immediately subsided.

"All you are offering in return for the intelligence sounds more than reasonable and very useful. Thank you, Commander," Hammond continued.

There were a few more requests, some which Sujanha was willing to agree to, others she was not. It was early evening by the time the meeting concluded after a somewhat lengthy discussion of how each party's conditions were to be met … pending approval from America's government, of course. Politics. All the proposed conditions on both sides would have to be approved by his superiors and some within the American bureaucracy before the treaty could be finalized.

Once the terms were finalized, Sujanha noted that the early warning satellite as well as the weapons and medical supplies could be gathered and brought to Midgard within one to two weeks. Suitable healers, who did not require translators to speak English and were willing to be detailed to Midgard for a time, might take slightly longer to be located. For the moment, she handed over several Stargate addresses to which intelligence could be sent and, as she had done for the Free Jaffa and Tok'ra, provided several other addresses where hard-pressed SG teams unable to reach Midgard could find assistance and safe-harbor.

Sujanha was glad to depart once all was concluded. The alliance with Midgard would be beneficial, but she found their base uncomfortable in multiple respects and was glad to return home. It would also be good to release the Valhalla back to real work, not guarding her.

"Let us go home," she said to Daniel, as they waited at the base of the ramp for the Stargate to finish dialing. "Today has been a profitable day, but there is more to be done."

There was always more to be done.


[1] AN: Here there be dragons … almost literally … in the SGC's view.

[2] I.e., the events of Divide and Conquer.