Author's Note #1: Sorry for the delay. I meant to get this chapter up yesterday, but I have gotten interested in a new fandom, the movie Red Baron (2008), and got distracted working on a fic for that. But here you go, at last, Chapter 13 (Part 2 of 3). I'll try to get Part 3 up, at the latest, soon after Christmas.
Author's Note #2: Hope you all enjoy. Thank you to all those who review. I do not always have time to answer them all, but I do read all the reviews, and they are very encouraging. Thank you!
Sujanha was right as she usually was. Anarr's aids had hunted him down quickly, and he had appeared onboard the Valhalla around dinner time of the same day that Jacob-Selmak had visited. Hearing the explanation about Sokar, his growing power, and the countless atrocities he was committing, Anarr had been incensed and had immediately agreed with his sister to make Sokar the next target of the Furling advance.
It took about two weeks to do reconnaissance; construct battle plans; collect the troops; and transmit the news to the Tok'ra and the Rebel Jaffa to give them time to get their people clear. On the morning of the fifteenth day, a couple hours before the fleets were to set sail for their respective targets, Daniel, down in the commissary eating breakfast, found himself with an unexpected summons back to Sujanha's office where he had been less than half-an-hour before.
Daniel hurriedly finished his breakfast—the messenger hadn't said to come right that moment—and trotted back upstairs. Jaax had stepped out, but Sujanha was still in her office with Ragnar, and one of the Dovahkiin had joined her. He wore hardy garments of leather and thick cloth with a leather belt around his waist. A large hammer and another tool that Daniel didn't recognize hung from his belt.
From the stiffness of her posture and the look in her eyes, Sujanha did not seem to be pleased with whatever the Dovahkiin had said to her, but she greeted Daniel calmly as he entered without any heat in her voice.
"You called for me?" Daniel asked, hovering just insider the doorway.
"Knight Commander Qethkroruth," she said, "has raised the issue of how we are to communicate with both the guards and the prisoners on Netu during our assault. The Dovahkiin are only able to speak their own language, and few of the Iprysh can speak English or Goa'uld. And it is not as if we can hope that those on Netu will all speak English."
"It would be convenient," Daniel added wryly.
"Since you speak some Goa'uld and are quite skilled at communicating with new races—we will be too frightening, I expect—Qethkroruth has suggested that you accompany the soldiers as a translator." Sujanha finished.
Daniel thought for a moment. What Qethkroruth said—or rather what Sujanha had said he had said—seemed reasonable, and Daniel wondered what about his suggestion had troubled the Supreme Commander. "I've been in skirmishes with SG1 before, but never outright battle," he cautioned, "I would probably be a liability." Going to Netu would be different even than the 'battle' in Apophis' mothership over earth.
"No one expects you to be on the front lines," Sujanha said, shooting a glance across at Qethkroruth, "You would stay with the healers and be called forward at need."
Daniel hesitated. He was an archaeologist and a linguist by training, but his skillset had been expanding in the months he had spent with the Furlings. Since Sujanha was willing to even suggest the idea, she thought he could do it. "I'm willing," he replied after a moment, "if you can spare me."
The first strike against Sokar was a three-pronged attack. Supreme Commander Anarr with his soldiers and one fleet of ships was going to capture Delmak and Netu. Sujanha with her ships and another army was going to attack Memphis, one of Sokar's strongholds, known for being the home of terrifying monsters and a place of terrible experiments. Algar with the third fleet and army was going to capture a world known only as Necropolis, a fearful world that served as a graveyard for dead Goa'uld and for those facing eternal imprisonment. Under a law left over from the Furling-Sicarii War, Supreme Commanders and High Commanders (or Generals) could not be part of the same attack, except under certain extreme (and rare) circumstances, lest risking a battle that could cripple the entire Furling Military by the death of much (if not all) of the command structure. By joining the group capturing Netu, Daniel would be absent from the Valhalla for as long as the battle took, which could be days.
"I can," said Sujanha, before turning to Ruarc, "You'll go with Daniel. Make sure you both come back in one piece."
"Of course," Ruarc said with a bow, "Good hunting, Commander, until we meet again." 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, concern clear in her eyes.
Ruarc led Daniel out from Sujanha's office on a path Daniel did not recognize.
"The lady's isn't very happy with Qethkroruth's suggestion, is she?" Daniel asked Ruarc quietly.
"On a personal level, not in the slightest, though she cannot deny that what he says is sensible," Ruarc replied, "We all lost much during the Great War. At least five of her aids died, and about half-of her family. She has a tendency to be somewhat overprotective at times ever since."
Ruarc led Daniel to the Valhalla's armory where he took several weapons for himself—only one of which Daniel recognized because it bore a slight resemblance to a Zat—as well as personal shields and breathing masks, much like Jaax's, for them both. They had both barely finished gathering their equipment when they were beamed across to one of the transport ships heading for Netu.
Furling Transport Ships, unlike the motherships and their larger or smaller variants, were made primarily for transport of people or supplies and for transport only. They were not made for convenience and had few of the amenities of the larger ships, except 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.
Moments after Daniel and Ruarc beamed in there was a slight jerk as the ship entered hyperspace. The soldiers and healers were already gathered and were starting to form up into battle formations. Daniel and Ruarc with the healers and a few soldiers were in the center of the formation with concentric rings of Dovahkiin and Iprysh soldiers around them.
"The journey to Netu will be short," said Ruarc, helping Daniel to put the breathing mask on, "We will need to be prepared to beam down as soon as we arrive."
The breathing mask was comfortable but odd, making every breath hissy and echoy.
"Isn't the atmosphere of Netu too thick for ships to get through? How are the sensors going to work?"
Ruarc gave Daniel a dry look as he put his own breathing mask on, "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 be sent down. They have heavy shields and weapons."
"Shouldn't be a problem?" Daniel asked with a slight gulp. This day was 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, or all the ships going to go for it while we cross our fingers?"
Ruarc cocked his head, "What is a Guinea pig?" He asked, "and how does it have anything to with our ships?"
Having to explain the concept of a Guinea pig to Ruarc was a sufficient distraction from his nerves that the trip to Netu passed quickly. Another slight shudder heralded the ship jumping out of hyperspace. Around them, the soldiers and healers started activating personal shields and taking final positions.
"In the event the attack goes bad," Ruarc said, "there are only two rules you need to remember. First, don't panic. It's the worst thing you can do. Your personal shield can hold out for quite some time under heavy staff-weapon fire or under a rock fall. You will have time to figure out a plan. Second, don't get separated from the group. Whatever happens you have to keep up. We are safest together."
Daniel nodded, a kernel of nervousness curdling in his belly. Here he was, an archaeologist and a linguist by training, about to be in a battle. Even the battle on Apophis' battleship above earth where he had nearly died was different than this attack was going to be. He could put his skills to good use, but Daniel still felt out of place.
The entrance into the atmosphere of Netu was bumpier and jerkier than Daniel had ever felt on a Furling warship but not so bad that he struggled to keep on his feet. Ruarc explained that 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. Sam would know, Daniel thought.
Not long after an announcement came over the Furling version of an intercom/loud-speaker, "Prepare for beam out."
"Cloaks do not have a hope of hiding a ship punching a hole through this type of atmosphere. In the slight chance that there are lookouts on Netu, we have to move quickly or risk losing the element of surprise.
Daniel immediately recognized why Netu was compared to Hell as soon as his group beamed down to the surface. The air was choked with haze and fumes, and Daniel knew he would be struggling for breath without his mask. The landscape was dark and foreboding with towering crags and jagged cracks in the surface of the rock. Here and there fiery lava runs crept across the planet's surface. Hell, indeed.
The Dovahkiin soldiers on the outer ring quickly spread out, securing the immediate area and looking for nearby entrance ways into the caverns below. They found three passageways within minutes, and the group split evenly into three groups, one taking each passageway.
The tunnels were roughly hewn and dimly lit with a reddish glow. The Dovahkiin, seemingly used to such conditions, moved easily in the lead, walking without hesitation, checking every side-passage that they went past. Daniel struggled to see with the disadvantage of his glasses and stumbled several times, Ruarc steadying him each time and giving him an encouraging look. Daniel could feel his heart pounding with every step. The tortured moans and screams of the prisoners echoing in the tunnels did nothing to help him stay calm. Trial by fire, literally, Daniel thought ironically. He forced himself to take a deep breath, Stay calm, you idiot. You're not under fire. Don't panic. 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, not apparently Jaffa, but probably guards nonetheless, 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. Some distance back, Daniel only got a few quick glimpses as the tunnel descended into chaos. One Iprysh strode forward, lifting one arm and shot at the fleeing man with an arm-mounted energy weapon. His first and second shots, fired in very quick succession, missed, hitting the tunnel wall, but his third shot clipped the man's leg, and he fell with a cry. At the same time, the other 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 cry out, 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. Ruarc, who had immediately stepped forward to physically shield Daniel and the other healers, relaxed 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," Ruarc added in a low voice.
The two enemy soldiers were moved into a dead-end passage and restrained. A healer quickly examined them to make sure 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 as well as the heat grew greater as they descended deeper through the tunnels; Daniel, who was sure that the stench of filth, suffering, and death would be overpowering if not for his breathing mask, was suddenly reminded of reading Dante's Inferno in high school. More guards were encountered the farther they went. The strike-force's luck held until the fourth encounter where one guard managed to escape. Rekdurlaan immediately increased their pace. They had no way to know if the other strike-forces had been discovered, but they needed to hurry to cover as much grown before resistance increased.
Not long after, another figure came barreling up a side tunnel that led straight into the midst of the advancing strike-force. Chaos momentarily ensued until they realized who the newcomer was. His tattered garments, thin and sickly face, and open wounds instantly identified him as a prisoner of Netu; fear can lend wings to even the weak and injured. The prisoner instantly halted, seeing the frightening visages of the Dovahkiin and the unworldly armor of the Iprysh, and froze like a statue, immobilized by fear if the petrified look on his face was anything to go by.
He began to babble at a quick pace, and Daniel, far back that he only managed to catch one word in three, still recognized the language as similar to Egyptian and Abydonian. "I need to get up there," he said to Ruarc urgently, "I can understand him."
Ruarc pushed his way up through the lines, Daniel moving in his wake. Rekdurlaan moved to join them. "Can you understand him?" The Commander asked through Ruarc.
"Enough," replied Daniel. Up close, the prisoner's babbling emerged as the galactic version of "Please don't kill me."
Using a butchered mix of Abydonian and Goa'uld, Daniel was able to calm the prisoner down, reassuring that him that he was safe, was not going to be killed, and was soon to be freed from his imprisonment. The prisoner, wary but after a few moments willing to be helpful, revealed the reason for the increasing shouting come from a little ways in front of the strike-force. One of the other strike-forces had reached one of the main caves—living/gathering areas, for lack of a better word—and had engaged with Na'onak, the Lord of Netu's First Prime, and a number of the other guards. Only the First Prime had a staff weapon, his guards 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.
Rekdurlaan sent the prisoner up the tunnel to where he had left the last pair of guards with the captured guards, and Daniel and the others continued down the tunnel. The main cave not far away was full of chaos as the 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. The strike-force Daniel was with immediately split up, some entering into the battle and others going off side-tunnels to secure the area to keep 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 into the battleground, bending low to drag the injured out of the battle. 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, assisting the healers in their duties. Some of those they rescued were Sokar's guards, while others were Dovahkiin soldiers stuck down by weapons fire or injured by blunt force trauma—for some reason, they did not use personal shields—and even one of the Iprysh, whose shield had for some reason failed and who appeared to have been stunned by a fall.
Towards the end of that battle—one of probably many going on in the tunnels beneath Netu's jagged surface— 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 brawniest of the Dovahkiin soldiers, kept from her receiving a crippling hammer blow to the legs.
Aaraav made straight for Ruarc, rattling off a string of words in her own language. Ruarc, who obviously understood at least some of what she was saying blanched, his eyes growing horrified before going carefully blank. "The two missing Tok'ra operatives have both been found in a side chamber along with a number of other prisoners, the suffering left to die before they are raised again."
Daniel himself blanched but followed Ruarc and Aaraav back up the tunnel, leaving the noise of battle to fade behind them. He just knew what he was about to see was not going to be pretty, and the nerves that had been twisting his gut all day started a tap-dancing routine. After Sujanha and Anarr had settled on Sokar as the Furlings' next target, Jacob and Selmak had brought them a crystal containing images of the two missing Tok'ra operatives in case they were still alive on Netu. Daniel had stared at their photos until he knew them almost by heart: Ar'sif and his host Arvuk and Jarruc and her host Teti, a young woman who looked so much like an Abydonian that she could have been one of the women lost to Apophis' raid.
The healers had finished checking over most of the occupants by the time Daniel, Ruarc, and Aaraav returned. Most of the sixteen occupants whom Daniel could see were dead, some probably for some time from the looks. He could feel his stomach do a flip. Three were still alive. Arvuk, lying by Teti, was dead, but Teti was hanging on for the moment, though from the shake of the healer's head, she had little time left.
Teti 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. Daniel was thankful that so many worlds conquered by the Goa'uld spoke some form of ancient Egyptian or a derivative.
"Am I dreaming? Are you really there?" Teti asked finally, dragging her eyes open when she felt the touch of a friendly hand. 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. He had never been at a death bed before.
"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 guessed that she meant her symbiote was dead. "Just for a little while," he replied, glancing across at Ruarc had knelt on Teti's other side, "Then you'll be with her again."
Teti's eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she could summon the strength to open them again, "Who are you? How?"
"Selmak sent us. 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, her words growing fainter by the moment, "I would … have … liked to see … the sun one…" Her eyes fell shut, and her chest stilled.
Ruarc touched her head gently in a final benediction, "Find peace, brave one. May the winds of night carry you safely home, and may the Creator have mercy on you at the judgment seat."
