The scrublands were oppressively hot, even for the sturdy constitution of a Jaffa. Bra'tac would very much have liked to move back into the shade of the cave, but that would have robbed him of the ability to observe the path leading to the appointed meeting place. As the oldest of the Jaffa rebels, he felt a near-pathological obligation to protect his students.
What they were doing was beyond dangerous. Generally, contact was made with new recruits only after months, if not years, of exhaustive vetting to ensure that the Jaffa's heart was truly seeking freedom. Jaffa who paid easy lip service to the premise of freedom would often reveal their cowardice when the cause called for sacrifice in the name of liberty. Any group meeting between Jaffa rebels and potential allies risked the loss of years, if not centuries, of collected experience.
He had agreed to meetings like this one only twice before, one had nearly ended in catastrophe when one of their number turned traitor. They'd caught the would-be spy in the act when his communicator failed, pure chance saving the Jaffa rebellion from extinction.
This meeting was smaller than that one had been, and only Bra'tac was present from the loose collection of aging Jaffa warriors who might be considered its "leadership." If this failed, it would end the lives of a few dreamers but the dream itself would live on. Bra'tac was under no illusion that the Lord Warden was actually better than his Goa'uld peers, but his political actions with respect to Jaffa autonomy were sufficient to give him cause to arrange a meeting with emissaries from Nekheb. The Nekhebite Jaffa had been prolific in seeding weapons and material support to Jaffa rebels across the galaxy since the Lord Warden's rule began.
At first he'd taken it for a trap, a way to find and kill Shol'va. Over time, it became apparent to him that the offer of material support was sincere. It was likely a ploy to weaken the Warden's enemies, but Bra'tac's cell of Jaffa rebels could ill afford to turn down significant war assets. So Bra'tac and the senior members of the rebellion had set a meeting on an abandoned world with one of the Lord Warden's facilitators.
Most of his fellow Jaffa were hidden, concealed in the distant foliage or deep within the cave. Only a single Jaffa was with him, a young boy chosen specifically to give the illusion that Bra'tac was virtually unguarded. If the Warden's forces were there to do Bra'tac harm, it would be better to spring a trap upon them while the Warden's assassins believed Bra'tac vulnerable.
They had given Bra'tac a guarantee of safe passage, but many of the old ways were becoming unreliable.
Many things were changing in the worlds as he knew them. False gods who'd been languishing in obscurity were rising up and forming alliances, the balances of power were moving faster than he'd anticipated as old hatreds and even older foolishness was rekindled in the furnace of warfare. The cynical part of Bra'tac's heart ached with the reality that the only thing currently standing between the monster Moloch and Chulak were the armies of Apophis. Apophis' cruelty was unforgivable, but preferred to the black pit of despair that pervaded any lands touched by the Golden Calf.
There was a pin-prick of blue light on the horizon, just barely visible against the blazing sunlight. Bra'tac smiled. "Prepare yourselves, they are here."
"Master Bra'tac, is it true what they say? Of the Wardens armies? Do they truly fight the creatures of legend?" Whispered the young Jaffa standing next to his teacher. To'kec was barely old enough to have been given a symbiote. He was trustworthy, but still a dreamer. Stories of monsters and heroes still stirred the boy's heart with the force of youth.
"Tales are always a mix of truth and entertaining lies, boy. You should know that by now." Bra'tac chided To'kec affectionately. "But it would seem that reasonable to assume that the armies of Nekheb have found allies in the enemies of the Goa'uld."
"Furlings and monsters?" To'kec practically vibrated with excitement.
"The Goa'uld crafted the tales of their enemies intentionally. I know not which are truths and which are falsehoods. The System Lords were emphatic in their warnings to never interact with the demons of Sun and Snow, but they were equally emphatic in their own divine right to rule. I would approach the heroic epics with caution - it is reasonable to assume that our enslavers were not entirely truthful in those accounts they shared with their chattel." Bra'tac mused. "But I believe that they were at least somewhat sincere in their fear of the Furlings. Apophis more than most."
"Apophis was afraid?" The boy intoned eagerly, his whispered hiss of joy thunderous in the echoing cave mouth.
"Silence." Bra'tac hissed, glaring at the boy for his incautiousness. The younger Jaffa wilted under his gaze, earning a snort of amusement from Bra'tac. "Child, do not let your eagerness overpower your sense."
"Sorry master." To'kec apologized, shuffling his feet.
"It is well, boy." Bra'tac smiled at his student. "And yes. When Apophis spoke of the Furlings, he did so in a voice of reverence and fear. They frightened him as few things did."
"Are we going to ally with the Furlings?" The boy asked eagerly. "March with ogres and demons of Winter?"
"I think we have enough danger in our lives without summoning demons," Bra'tac shook his head, pointing to a small group of people walking across the scrublands. Three of them, two red armored Jaffa and what appeared to be a human female. "No - one set of monsters at a time is enough for me."
"Are we not here to ally with the warriors of the Warden?" To'kec queried.
"We are here to listen. Nothing more." Bra'tac replied firmly. "They have come with words. I will hear them. But we are not here to enslave ourselves to yet another false master. We will listen, then we will leave."
The boy nodded nervously. "And if they're not willing to accept that answer?"
"Then they will not leave."Bra'tac shrugged. "The warriors of the Lord Warden have won a great many victories in the past year, but they are still the soldiers of Heka. Fancy toys do not make a man a warrior."
"They are very, very nice toys though." To'kec lamented as the Jaffa grew closer and closer, allowing them to see the Jaffa of Nekheb.
Bra'tac was loath to admit it out loud, but one would be hard pressed to find fault in the artistry of Nekheb's warsmiths. Bound by neither the traditional orthodoxy of Goa'uld design or the strategic arms limitations treaties of the System Lords, the Jaffa of Nekheb had made drastic changes to the basic form and function of their armor. Their armor was sleeker, their materials made with composite material more similar to that of a starship's hull than the ferrous heavy materials favored by most Goa'uld armies. That more than any other single fact convinced Bra'tac that the rumors of Furling détente with Nekheb were founded in truth. The armies of Nekheb were arming themselves to fight Jaffa, not Furlings.
"Curious." Bra'tac mused. The staff weapons of the incoming Jaffa were not tipped with the heavy, flowering ball and wide cobra-like flared hit. No, these staff weapons ended with the serrated blade of a wickedly curved Khopesh one one end and a ceramic alloy spear that he was entirely certain opened to reveal a plasma-repeater on the other. "The Jaffa of Nekheb truly have abandoned all orthodoxy."
"Are they not formidable warriors, master Bra'tac?" Queried the young man.
"I do not question their capacity for bloodshed, only the degree to which their innovation has been tested in actual combat." Bra'tac replied, though his doubt was minimal. By all accounts the Jaffa of Nekheb had been adapting and evolving their methods of warfare with rapid enthusiasm if not total efficacy. It was probably a decent part of why they were losing more than they ought to have been losing, lack of experience in actually fighting a war. Heka's armies hadn't actually been in a real war since the fall of Earth. Commanders of the Lord Warden's armies were prone to making impulsive decisions that a more seasoned general wouldn't have made.
He wondered how many millions would have to die before Nekheb's military leadership was experienced enough not to make those mistakes. Not long under the current tempo of warfare, ten - perhaps twenty - years worth of continued experience was long enough for a commander to be relatively competent at waging warfare on a single world. Fleet admirals were rarely worth their salt before sixty. It seemed entirely plausible that the System Lords would band together and annihilate the Warden's armies long before that became an issue.
The Jaffa approaching him were confident in their stride - overconfident. They were being entirely too casual about walking into an unknown situation with potentially dangerous allies. Bra'tac rolled his eyes, heaven help him - his compatriots could easily overtake these fools. These men presumed to offer him help?
"Tak mal tiak." Greeted the the Jaffa of Nekheb as they reached the cave mouth. The older of the Jaffa, the apparent leader of their group reached out his hand to grasp Bra'tac firmly by the wrist. "Well met. What do I call you? Your organization was reluctant to share names."
"You may call me Sef." Bra'tac supplied the pseudonym, selecting a name at random. One never used one's real name for an initial meeting, not till one was sure of another free Jaffa's sincerity. "And you are?"
"You may call me Fin'ma. These are To'pan and Priestess Thema of the Skywalker Sisters." He gestured to his companions. Bra'tac arched his brow in curiosity at the woman's appearance.
Priestess Thema was oddly garbed for one of the Nekhebite clergy. Through in fairness, any garb at all was somewhat irregular for their order. Bra'tac had never seen someone dressed precisely in the manner Thema had elected to dress herself. It was a tightly fitted silk garment that might as well have been painted against her tattooed and pierced skin, slitted in a way that showed a generous helping of hip and thigh leading down to knee high white leather boots with a tall heel. The gossamer fabric dangled down from her sleeves, hanging nearly a foot from her wrists, low enough that even with her arms raised they were never higher than the tight silver belt ending in a sharp-V shaped icon engraved with complex hieroglyphs. She had allowed her hair to grow near comically long before tying it up into a pair of tight braids that wrapped up and around her ears. He wasn't sure precisely how she'd managed it, but he was quite certain that it would have seemed less immodest were she to have shown up entirely naked.
Fin'ma chuckled at Bra'tac's unspoken question. "It is one of the garments worn by Priestesses of the Order Skywalker. One of the less distracting ones, I assure you."
"Indeed." Bra'tac replied. "Dare I ask the origin of this… tradition?"
"The Order Skywalker seeks to find meaning in the parables of Lucas, as told by the Lord Warden. We support all those who seek to protect the downtrodden and fight their oppressor." Thema replied. "Our sisters follow the example of the Princess Organa, secret sister of the Wizard Prince. Our vestments are in imitation of those worn by the blessed Saint, as proscribed by the Bob."
"I am unfamiliar with the Bob." Bra'tac replied politely.
"The Bob is the Lord Warden's most trusted advisor. An undead Furling bound to serve him for eternity," She chuckled. "A spirit of Lust and Knowledge to follow a god of Chastity and Action."
"Realize that we do not intend to serve him similarly." Bra'tac replied politely. "I am here to listen to your proposal, but know this - we are free Jaffa. We do not worship false gods."
"All Jaffa are free." Replied the priestess eagerly. "Freed through the covenant of the warden."
"I need no blessing for freedom." Bra'tac scoffed.
"And yet you have it all the same." Fin'ma chuckled. "You need not believe in the Lord Warden's divinity to understand his sincerity. Jaffa, Tau'ri, Furlings, Goa'uld, Tok'ra, Vampire - the origins and nature of one matters little to the Warden. One is defined through one's choices, not one's birth. The Warden is the first among us to dismiss the relevance or reality of his divinity. "
"I have told you a thousand times, Fin'ma - it is a test. When he denies his own divinity it is a test to weed out the faithless." Insisted the priestess.
"Then it's an awful test, given how he rewards the faithless and insists that he cannot promise rewards in the next life." The Nekhebite Jaffa guffawed, amused in the way that could only be managed by old friends in a seasoned debate. This was obviously not the first time they'd disagreed over this matter.
The priestess shook a finger, clicking her tongue disapprovingly at the Jaffas lack of faith. "You doubt the divinity of the most powerful Gou'uld Lord in history? His magic is without peer."
"I doubt neither his power or his honestly. When he tells us that he is just a man of greater learning and opportunity, I believe him. When he tells me that we can learn the skills he knows, I believe him. Actions speak louder than words and his generosity is near limitless." Fin'ma brushed off the Priestess' dogmatic insistence on the Lord Warden's divinity, but not unkindly so.
"And what is the price of your patron's munificence?" Bra'tac inquired. "What does he demand of us?"
"I feel you misunderstand the purpose of the Order Skywalker." Replied the priestess. "Our order is not directly sanctioned by the Lord Warden. We follow his teachings but our actions are our own."
Bra'tac snorted derisively. "Of course they are."
"You doubt my integrity?" Fin'ma growled.
"I find that few Jaffa in the service of their Goa'uld would be so brash as to divert war materials away from their Lord amidst a bloody war." Bra'tac rejoined. "Certainly not for a purpose so vague as freedom."
Fin'ma threw back his head in mirth. "Do we not face one man who spends his energy accomplishing precisely that?"
Bra'tac nodded, taking in Fin'ma's words. "Assuming that I belive you, and assuming that you are sincere in your intention of providing material support to our rebellion - what support do you have to offer us? If you truly mean that you are not using the Lord Warden's resources, then what are you using?"
"I presume you are familiar with the Right of Conquest?" Fin'ma replied. "It is a practice from the time of Heka. Men and Jaffa could keep the spoils they won from a conquered foe, but all weapons, ships, chattel, and Naquadah were the property of Heka."
"I have heard of such a practice." Bra'tac replies disapprovingly. "It was one of the more loathsome traditions he adopted from his alliances with Moloch. Though by all accounts, the chattel were better treated by Heka."
"Worry not for the chattel. There are no slaves in the dominion of Nekheb. All are free." The priestess spread her arms in praise, splaying her fingers skyward. "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is the Warden's way. We are given rights that may be taken by no man or god, lest we chose to give them ourselves."
"The right to self-defense second among them only to the right to speak one's mind freely." Agreed Fin'ma. "Our spoils are tithed by the needs of the war effort, but we each share in the plunder taken from Chronos and Moloch. We have come into a preponderance of weapons that far exceeds our current manpower. I alone have earned fifteen staff weapons and seven Zat'nik'tel. Given that I was only blessed with two hands to use them, I do not feel the need to trouble myself with an armory that I will never use. There are thousands of like minded Jaffa, humans, and Unas who formed our order, so that we might pass them to those who would find a better use for them."
"And you offer these to us freely, without asking payment in return?" Bra'tac's doubt hung from his every syllable.
"We do not offer these weapons unconditionally." Fin'ma held up his hand placatingly as Bra'tac inhaled sharply. "Worry not, friend. Our conditions are not so heinous as to offend your sense of honor."
"We require that you pledge to obey our code of conduct." The priestess smiled warmly. "Do what you can to guard peace in the Galaxy. Use these weapons to defend and protect, never to attack without cause. Respect all life, in any form. Serve others, rather than rule over them. Seek to improve yourself through knowledge and training. And slay anyone who would worship, do commerce with, or tolerate those who would worship or do commerce with the dominion of Moloch."
"Is that it?" Bra'tac inquired eagerly - he could agree to terms that laughably reasonable without even needing to consult the other senior members of the Jaffa rebellion.
"We do have one more request, but understand that it is a request - our material support of your rebellion is not contingent upon it." Fin'ma waved his hand in small circles as though pulling the words from his own mouth. "We would request that you provide succor to any Tok'ra who you might encounter. They have not found the Warden's Word yet, but we believe that their missions are agreeable to the Warden."
Bra'tac arched his brow. If he hadn't already been planning on passing word of this meeting to the Tau'ri - that alone would have merited visiting his old pupil, Teal'c. "Indeed - I will have to consult the leadership of my movement about your request but I can certainly guarantee the terms will be met for the first condition you requested."
"Perfect." Fin'ma clapped his hands eagerly. "Then we shall pass along the first shipment."
"I presume you have hidden it somewhere on the planet?" Bra'tac inquired. He had not seen them ditch any crates or bags, so it seemed likely that they'd left the weaponry near the gate.
"In a manner of speaking." Replied the priestess as she tapped her belt, pressing upon one of the hieroglyphs with a long fingernail. As the symbol lit up, the sky grew immeasurably darker. Three angular shapes blotted out the sky, Al'kesh bombers.
"I told you not to bring your ships!" Bra'tac hissed. "Only those weapons you were offering. We cannot carry a ship's cargo hold worth of weapons even if we wanted to."
"Obviously not." Agreed the priestess. "Which is why we're giving you the ships."
Bra'tac was briefly speechless. "You're giving us three Al'kesh?"
"We're actually giving you three Al'kesh, quite a few gliders, three cargo-holds worth of weapons, and two hundred bars of weapons grade naquadah." Fin'ma shrugged. "There are more spoils than usual after we've taken one of Moloch's fortresses. It's not like we're not trying to capture or ransom his Jaffa. Once they're all dead, we take anything that isn't bolted down then cut the bolts and take the rest."
"How regularly can we expect shipments?" Bra'tac asked, sincerely amazed by the arsenal he was being handed.
"Not often - perhaps never again." The Priestess shrugged. "It is only when our order has the plunder and ability to divert that plunder from heading back to Nekheb without it being noticed that we can do something like this for your group or one of rebel groups from the other Pantheons. Yu's armies destroyed one of our last convoys to the group in his territory, though we reasonably suspect that he blamed Lucien pirates rather than our order."
"We will almost certainly never meet again." Fin'ma shrugged. "But your cause is just, and men are defined by taking action to protect that which is right."
"Thank you friend." Bra'tac grasped the Jaffa's arm. "I will not forget you."
"Nor I you." Agreed Fin'ma. "Good luck, Jaffa, and may the Force be with you."