Chapter 46 - Negotiation
Daniel took a deep breath of the fresh air on PXY-887, coming through the gate just behind SG-11. It would be a fair walk to the village, but it was morning and he had slept well the night before.
"Dr. Jackson, I hope you're not urgent about seeing Tonane again," said Connor, turning around as his weapon rested loosely in his grasp.
Daniel blinked. "No, not necessarily. Why?"
"I know the general just wants us to overlook the capture, but surely you understand that we'd like to take a little closer look at that forest where we just showed up," said Connor. His face didn't look out of the ordinary, just serious and a little curious. "Briggs and Satchel will take the rear, and if you'd like to accompany Thaid, maybe we can figure this out before we have to get to business."
Daniel answered with a nod. Not exactly what he'd been expecting, but a plan he didn't have to think too much on to support.
The marched out, the sound of dry grass and the shifting of canvas BDUs the only sounds for a while. Like before, there were no animals around the gate, but other than that, it seemed as normal as they remembered. They walked past the blasting site to circle around the village, and Daniel was surprised to see how well Connor remembered the direction.
Thaid apparently had no interest in checking the blasting site where they had vanished, but then again, SG-1 had already looked around and found nothing. Daniel supposed that in the end it wasn't as mysterious. The brush grew thicker, but only a few wildlife sounds accompanied the change, even once they reached the edge of the forest itself.
Daniel had no weapon ready, but he did find it noteworthy that neither did SG-11. They weren't relaxed, certainly, but he didn't see the usual tenseness that military men often had even when they weren't dealing with apparent magical technology. He had to assume that they were growing much more used to the ways of the galaxy than SG-1, for instance. Then again, SG-1's first reaction to anything strange was to assume technology, so was the superstition truly any less? So far they'd been proven right, but there was always a chance of error, and Daniel thought the chance much less remote than most of his companions did.
The forest of Xels and Takaya smelled warm and pungent, nothing out of the ordinary in it. SG-11 and Daniel quietly wound their way through it, keeping eyes open for anything that would explain how they had ended up here. Daniel paid close attention to the trees, not just because of the last real SG-1 mission, but because it seemed the only thing that might hide technology. He remembered Cimmeria and the entrance to the Hall of Thor's Might. There were no pillars of stone, or even large rocks, but the trees were large at some points.
Daniel didn't know where exactly they were in relation to where they had come to find SG-11, but for the moment it didn't matter. He looked at the trees, wondering for a moment, and stopped to pull a book from his pack. They looked normal from the outside, but there was an odd kind of scent in the air that he couldn't place. Janet's antihistamine potion had been working for some time, and given the usual forests they discovered, he'd grown used to certain smells. Just for thoroughness, he wanted to look this one up.
He flipped through the book, frowning as he looked for the picture that matched the grey-orange lichen on the bark. None of the rest of the team seemed to care or comment, as he heard nothing, but they had been pretty quiet during the whole trek anyway.
"Lieutenant," he called out for Thaid, wondering what the scientist's specialty was and if lichen might have something to do with it. There wasn't an answer, and Daniel heard some slight noises—what sounded like the flap of wings, and the soft fall of the feet of some small creature. "Hey," he called again, turning his head.
There was nothing there. In all meanings, there was nothing. Neither the animals he might have heard, nor SG-11. The forest around him was empty, as if he had imagined that SG-11 had ever been there. Daniel felt his hand twitch slightly towards his sidearm, and his brow furrowed. This was worryingly like deja vu.
ooooooo
~I'm not sure I understand,~ said Sam as Jolinar prepared them for the great Council meeting. ~Garshaw could have formed an alliance on her own, but this little issue requires unanimous presence?~
*An alliance does not threaten our mission, and therefore Garshaw may use her authority without check. However current things go down, a shift in the entire Goa'uld structure is probable, and that is of grave importance to every leader among us.*
Sam was finding that her blending with Jolinar was not as flawless as it seemed like it should be. Just as she could not access her own memories to determine why she reacted in certain ways, being in tune with Jolinar's thoughts and emotions did not explain much at all about the Tok'ra world that was still somewhat new to Sam. She had been surprised when they heard the news that the Council had grown a new crystal chamber for the purpose of this briefing. She was for a moment put off when they descended to breakfast and found little buzz, even with Tok'ra leaders arriving.
Selmak and Jacob came down to the mess hall that morning, taking a seat near Sam and Jolinar but not speaking as they did so. It seemed to be the first time since blending, and some of the other Tok'ra came up to quietly pay their respects. Sam wondered if they recognized the look on Selmak's face that clearly spoke of weariness with the reverence given to him, and Jolinar wondered if Jacob's personality would be at all useful in helping Selmak dissuade it.
Before any of them spoke, Martouf and Lantash joined them, taking the seat opposite Sam and Jolinar. As Jolinar quietly glowed with her usual gladness at their presence, Sam suddenly wondered what her father now knew about all of them. Jolinar brushed it off, reminding her of Selmak, one who had known Jolinar ever since she first came to the Tok'ra. It didn't quite work, and so she tried to ease Sam's awkwardness by changing the subject, but Sam was reminded of just how touchy this whole situation was.
It was Martouf and Lantash who broke the silence and the awkwardness in Sam's mind alike. "It is good to see you here, Selmak," Martouf said.
"It is not good to be here, not for this," said Selmak. "Jolinar once attested to being cursed with bad timing...I do not hesitate to call her correct in this case."
Jolinar hmmed to herself, unfortunately in agreement. And yet, for their side mission it might have been perfect timing.
"Apart from the obvious situation, do you believe that the issue of limited availability will arise?" Martouf asked, glancing from Jolinar to Selmak. He would not be present at the briefing.
"You mean the fact that we should have been warned by an operative," Jolinar answered.
"That is no new question," Selmak reminded Martouf. "With this issue having plagued us from the beginning, this is for damage control alone; we have no new resources to design a new strategy for."
"We almost lost both you and Jolinar recently," Lantash surfaced to say. "It appears that we have not been using our current resources well. And yes, I know that some of it cannot be helped, but I am not content nevertheless."
Selmak nodded slightly, with a hint of wry in his tone. "I would not have expected you to be content."
"There is, and has always been, only one solution," Jolinar added, quietly as she stirred her food. "But it involves consolidating our purposes."
"You mean cutting off our alliances and efforts to aid trading partners, I assume," Lantash clarified, but Sam and Jolinar could both see from his look that it was only a rhetoric question.
"We must always make that decision—how much can we afford to give and possibly damage our mission, and how much we cannot afford to lose by isolating ourselves." Jolinar spoke with words that came easily on this subject, and the quiet determination Sam felt from her triggered Sam's own thoughts. She couldn't hide that she had always supported a more generous policy; but she did not resent Jolinar's comment on that, that she had always worked for a leadership who could afford to be beneficial. And in the end, Jolinar was not ready for the Tok'ra to do all that she said, even if they would have considered it.
By the time they had run through all these thoughts, several minutes had passed without words at the table. Both of the other two pair were eating quietly, heads downward as if in private thought. Sam remembered once wondering why the Tok'ra did not speak to each other often, and now more than ever realized that one would not be so quick to seek other companions when at least one was always present. Jolinar then had a moment of remembrance herself, and let Sam have a glimpse of old feelings, what it was like when despite the two minds she had felt alone in the world. Sam didn't have anything to say, and Jolinar indicated by the way she moved on that she hadn't expected words in response.
Glancing across the mess hall, Jolinar caught sight of three new figures entering. Sam wasn't familiar with everyone on this base—not even Jolinar was—but these uniforms were different, those of the Risa system as Jolinar's memory told Sam. And the figure in the lead was the Malek that Jolinar had spoken of.
"Old friends have arrived," she murmured aloud as she excused herself from the table. Crossing the hall with easy stride, Sam caught sight of Malek in both real time and in a memory that Jolinar recalled at that moment. Sam couldn't help but be surprised at Malek's host, with a face that was almost the picture of a romance hero, complete with tousled dark hair. She quickly quelched it as Jolinar seemed a bit offended at such a comparison. And as she shared the memory with Sam, Sam realized why.
It was only brief flashes in the short steps it took to make it across the room, but Sam saw ships and Jaffa and tunnels on a planet that was not like this one. And Jolinar, in the ship, swooping down from the skies to take the shot that would have destroyed the base. She barely made it unscathed from the ship to grasp the hand of Malek, grateful for reinforcements and surprised at Jolinar's reckless act. With the gate destroyed in the attack, they had had a week of being on the run from remaining Jaffa on the planet, gathering supplies and people and waiting for the rescue. Malek was hard-willed but fair, and kept strict protocol even among the chaos. But he had not taken Jolinar under his wing, but instead gave her and Rosha free reign to plant traps, play guerilla warrior, not just run and live to fight another day. Malek respected that, and Jolinar respected him for it, as one of the few Tok'ra who would.
"Malek," Jolinar spoke, as the memory disappeared and was replaced by the picture of Malek today, no different after those decades.
His face, twisted in a slight worried frown, smoothed as he saw them. "Jolinar?" he asked, though seemingly sure.
"Indeed," she answered, a slight smile finding its way on her face.
He smiled back, stepping forward to clasp her in a firm embrace. "It has been some time, comrade," he said, with a firm clap on her back as they separated. "I heard of what happened, but urgent events trailed me ever since. But I was glad to hear of your safety."
"This is Samantha," Jolinar said, introducing her in Tok'ra fashion. Sam had no need to come forward to say anything.
"So I heard," said Malek, with a nod of greeting. "Leyon greets both of you as well, and like myself was not surprised to hear that your new host is not of the usual kind."
Sam balked for a moment, wondering if he was making a jab at Jolinar's error in meeting with Sam. But Jolinar's emotions were smooth, and she let her response inform both Sam and Malek. "The Tauri are not usual in any sense," she said. "Our contact has been strained, but if Selmak's experience with Jacob is any further evidence, it has not been failure."
"You and Selmak, of course," answered Malek, with a friendly half-snort. "It should never surprise me when we meet because of your actions."
"And yet it has not been so in reverse, which is surprising to me," Jolinar answered. "I have heard nothing of Risa for many seasons, which seems to belie all that I have seen of you and it."
"We are careful to keep from anything that might prove infamous," said Malek, with a slight ease in his manner that transcended the ordered words. "And being separate from the High Council, there is a solidity that aids our conservatism."
Jolinar nodded. "Are you ready to meet with the Council?"
"Yes, I believe I have heard all that I need for the initiation," Malek answered. "Until then, I had hoped to speak with Selmak on a matter of trivial importance."
"He is this way," Jolinar said, and they walked over to the table.
Sam had one of her few moments where Jolinar's emotions made perfect sense, as the worries about the Council faded and left only interest in the people they cared about. Already, she was feeling that Malek was a war-brother to Jolinar, someone who did not just see her as another member of the same movement, but who could appreciate and be at ease with Jolinar the individual. Sam didn't need to know much else; she felt that she would have the same appreciation for Malek by the time he returned to his role in the Risa system.
ooooooo
Daniel hesitated before making a move. The entire team had just disappeared, the same way they had once reappeared only the day before. He didn't want to jump to conclusion and put his hand to his zat, but he also knew that he didn't have back up if he didn't stay on top of things.
"Captain Connor?" he called out. "Lieutenant Thaid? Lieutenant Satchel? Sergeant Briggs?" Nothing. "Okay, so we weren't off about the creepy," he said quietly to himself, taking a deep breath and looking around. Occam's Razor, that Mckay was so fond of, said that he should go to Tonane and explain everything, because they were probably "with the spirits" once again. Then again, he wasn't too sure that he knew how to get to Tonane.
A large crow flapped in front of him, landing in a tree some feet off. Daniel eyed it for a second, then turned to attempt to retrace his steps. He wasn't really scared, not yet; his heart was beating faster, but the way Thor had once inspired that emotion. Every time he thought the galaxy was becoming simple, it shook him like a rag doll.
He walked a few steps, then stopped. Ahead, on the path that he thought they had made, sat a big grey wolf. He made the connection to the crow in a second, and took another deep breath. Either this was coincidence, in which case he might be in danger from wolf attack, or the spirits had decided to pay him a visit after stealing SG-11.
"Takaya?" he asked, feeling more than a little silly. The wolf sat on her haunches, but didn't move. Her eyes watched Daniel carefully.
He turned back, and saw the crow fly over to a closer tree. "Right, I don't think this is coincidence," he said out loud. "My name is Daniel Jackson, and I'm a peaceful explorer. Could you please tell me who you are?"
A direct answer was not what he was expecting, and so the crow's quick caw almost made him jump. And strangely, he almost thought he heard "You first" in it's animalistic sound.
"Um, I already said that," he said, stumbling a little over his words. "The team that you took? They're my friends, and they don't mean anybody harm either. We're just curious about you, about your culture, about how you relate to Tonane's people. We didn't realize that we were doing anything wrong, if we were, which would be nice to know, if you could tell us for sure."
He glanced between them, but neither animal moved or made a sound. "Okay, you don't look too happy, but you also didn't make me disappear," he said, brainstorming as he went. "So, I don't think you're really sentient animals, which probably makes you some kind of being that can send out holograms or alter its image to other eyes. Is that close?"
Takaya yawned, shook her grey wolf head in a vague diagonal motion.
"Is that yes or no?" Daniel asked cautiously.
"You are Daniel Jackson," came a creak from behind him, prompting him to turn suddenly. Before his eyes, he saw Xels stretch and transform, changing height and size to become another humanoid alien, silver robed and with strange gills across its face. "You speak for the leaders of your people?"
Daniel swallowed, looking back to see that Takaya had dropped the disguise too. He wasn't sure if he was glad to be right at this moment. "I'm just an archaeologist," he said, clearing his throat a little.
"We think otherwise," said Xels. "We saw how your leaders respect you, and how you know them."
"You did?" Daniel's mind flitted through telepathy, omnipotence, seers, and tracking devices all in an instant.
"Those who you call SG-11 never returned to you," explained Takaya, walking past him to stand by Xels. Their stance was stiff and regal, befitting a race that posed as this race's gods, perhaps.
Daniel frowned. "You pretended to be them. Just like you pretend to be the ancient spirits of the Salish people."
"All for their own good, yes," said Xels shortly, firmly.
"That is not what we are to talk to you about," Takaya continued before Daniel could collect his thoughts. "You, Daniel Jackson. Are we to trust your people?"
"Wait, what?" Daniel asked, confused. "Shouldn't it be, should we trust you? You still have our people captive, and you've deceived us at least once."
"We feared what you would do to Tonane if he did not grant your requests," said Takaya. "We have not worked for their benefit all these hundreds of years, only to let you ruin them with your ways."
Daniel had lost the original question, listening to everything else that was in or underneath their words. "You're the ones who banished the Goa'uld from this planet," he said. "You saved the Salish, but you didn't leave them alone."
Xels and Takaya looked to each other, and Daniel wondered if he was pushing it.
"We don't mean any disrespect," he said, putting out a hand. "But in our culture, we value free will and honesty. If you do too, we mean you no harm. We certainly don't intend to do anything to Tonane or his people."
"And your leaders?" Takaya asked.
"I believe they mean well," said Daniel, nodding after only a second's hesitation. "You need not fear them, not now."
"Then we will return your people to you," said Xels, raising his arms.
"Wait, not yet," Daniel called out, putting his hand out again. He had too many questions. Their eyebrows rose. "If you want to protect Tonane's people, why do you pose as their gods like the Goa'uld?"
"They are young," said Xels. "And cannot see what dangers lie down certain paths. We keep them from those paths, but we do not control their lives."
"But surely," Daniel said, thinking that now he was starting to understand, "you could do that without this ruse. You let me see you like this, why not Tonane?"
"They are younger than you," said Takaya. "They would not understand."
Daniel half shrugged. "They know you, they care about you; do you really think that they care what you look like? Have you ever tried?"
Once again, the two aliens shared a look. Then Xels turned to Daniel. "You may be wise, Daniel Jackson, but this is not the time. Your team will be returned to you, and then you may leave freely. We will never harm the Salish, and you and your people will be safe as long as you do the same."
Daniel bit back his curiosity, slowly realizing exactly how dangerous could be. "What do you call yourselves?" he asked, once last question.
"The spirits of the Salish," Xels answered. Before Daniel could say anything else, Xels and Takaya clapped their forearms together. They were gone in a flash of light.
"Dr. Jackson? What are you doing here?"
Daniel turned, and saw SG-11, looking less than confident and more than confused. But this time, it was the real one. "It's a long story," he said, realizing that in this case, he was the only one who could tell it.
ooooooo
The new Council chamber grown for this day was set up in a manner that Sam immediately admired. Crystal benches were arranged in a horseshoe shape, allowing for all to see each other, but the acoustics allowed for a lack of microphones. By midday, all the members called to this impromptu council were arrived and fully refreshed.
Jolinar and Sam took the least of the places at the edge of the circle, and Selmak and Jacob took the seat next to Garshaw in the center, with Ren'al taking her other flank. Malek was somewhere several seats down, and neither Sam nor Jolinar knew the rest well. Garshaw opened with her own thoughts, and then immediately Sam and Jolinar were called on to give testimony.
Jolinar felt no need to keep track of anything for posterity, and so Sam found it difficult to remember what exactly had been said as soon as they finished speaking. They had been completely honest, though, about the situation—just not, perhaps, how they came about this information.
After the facts were laid out, they sat down and swiftly withdrew from the focus. The other Tok'ra had good memories, and did not need to call on Jolinar or Sam for information as they began to debate points. Sam wasn't so much interested in the current decision, so much as why it needed to be made. As the talking continued, Jolinar also stopped keeping track to clarify with Sam just what was the issue.
~Why would taking out Quetesh be such an issue, if she's a minor Goa'uld?~
*Morale. It is something that cannot be predicted, but can easily be influenced. The removal of a god, especially if it is not by another god, will be remembered by all who hear. It could inspire a revolution, which if it happened unexpectedly could bring total chaos.*
~And how is that bad again?~
*If one Goa'uld wins out over all the others, he will be vastly more difficult to defeat, and vastly more motivated to pillage and conquer. By balancing the infighting, the Tok'ra keep the galaxy in a state of flux that we can one day take advantage of to destroy the Goa'uld entirely.*
~So you think.~
*So we plan.*
Sam paused, listening to the debate going on as she heard a name she recognized.
"We have more to worry from than benefit from with Ba'al at this point," said Johanen, a female Tok'ra with an older host of Asian descent. "It was his attack on Apophis that distracted him long enough for Sokar to make his move, and if Sokar succeeds in his plans, then we will have lost Apophis through Ba'al. It seems wise to let Quetesh loosen his hold."
There was a quiet murmur for a few seconds, and Sam wondered how the debate was going.
"Nay, nay," spoke up Thoran, frowning deeply. "Ba'al is grown arrogant indeed, and it seems that Quetesh is aware of it. If she knows where to strike, Ba'al could become crippled for many years to come."
"I do not see the problem with that, brother," said Noren, a representative who had arrived with Malek. "Has he not proven dangerous to us?"
"And dangerous to the Goa'uld," Kanan answered before Thoran could speak. He, like Malek, was in a younger host's body, but his eyes were aged beyond any but perhaps Selmak or Garshaw. "Ba'al's cunning has been a threat to them, and will remain so as long as he is in any power. They may ignore him, but they do not forget. And he does not give in. Cripple him, and he will return eventually, but in the meantime the Goa'uld will have a safety net."
"And Quetesh will be in power," Thoran followed on, pointedly. There were some meaning-filled looks among the Council, glancing back and forth, with no firm answer.
Jolinar silently thought her firm agreement, and Sam wished she knew more.
*The last time I saw Quetesh,* Jolinar said reluctantly. *I goaded her for the sake of spurring her to foolish action, regaining her trust after we had been separated and then declaring myself Tok'ra. It seemed to work, and after winning the first attack I made it back safely. But she did not react as planned, and managed to see through our plan and discover how I escaped. She followed the trail as long as she could, decimating any village that might have housed us, and nearly discovering the base itself in the end. An operative left behind in her court was discovered and tortured, as she guessed that we would have left a contingency plan. The attack did its job in the end, but it was a bitter failure for the Tok'ra.*
~Why do you feel guilt for it?~ Sam asked, feeling the weight of Jolinar's feeling.
*Such a bold plan would never have been attempted were it not for my background,* Jolinar said. *Yes, the Tok'ra Council approved and expanded upon my suggestion, but it was my miscalculation that is the root of the entire debacle.*
And Sam knew that the death of a comrade among the Tok'ra, so soon after joining their ranks, had not helped; it would have troubled Sam under normal circumstances, and she had never been in a situation like Jolinar's. There were no further "whys" about the guilt.
~So neither Ba'al nor Quetesh can be in strong power, but the Tok'ra need them to play off each other and the other Goa'uld?~
*In essence, yes.*
~And what about Sokar?~
*He is an old player, like Apophis,* Jolinar answered. *Sokar has a colder, straighter intelligence, and technological superiority in mass.*
Jolinar's words trailed off, and rather than try to explain, she worked with her growing blending with Sam, creating a mental map of all she carried with her about the hierarchy under discussion. And Sam reached out, feeling the way the thoughts were like sounds and pictures and not, all at once, almost as if the thoughts themselves were transposing themselves over Sam's mind to where she could "feel" them. It was too large for Jolinar to understand and picture, and too large for Sam to comprehend all at once. But she remembered Heru'ur, and the level of information kept about him alone, and Jolinar's mental chuckle as her mind swirled at the idea of that being understood for all the Goa'uld was completely understanding.
There was no way to understand it all, unless you had lived it all. Jolinar felt inadequate, for all that she knew more than Sam, relying on a thankfully reliable intuition to guide her. Despite the string of mistakes lately, she had not had to depend on luck for success very often, and though she wished for Sam's assurance through knowledge, the current situation made her content.
The debate had continued on outside of them, going back and forth among speaker after speaker.
"We cannot underestimate the resources necessary to commit to this course of action," cautioned Malek, speaking for only the second time during this entire council. "Look at what brought this situation so strangely to our attention, and then tell me that we can afford to carry this out properly."
"Quetesh's domain is small," objected Sina, who sat next to Malek. "The coverage needed would be minimal, and the commodity most needed would be time. Time to make sure that every complexity is accounted for. But we have that time; we need not saturate the situation with operatives that we, as you said, do not have. If the right steps are taken in the beginning, she will not be ready to attack."
"You bring to light that point again, Sina, which was mentioned earlier and not fully discussed," said Noren. "And that is that she is determined to attack Ba'al, and believes herself nearly ready. We did not keep close enough watch on the situation to know immediately how best to put those steps in place to slow her advance."
"No, Noren, I do not believe that that will be an issue," said Malek, brow furrowed but without a frown. "Quetesh's manner will make deep absorption of the operatives we assign go swiftly; she is no Ba'al, even if she seeks his power and his role."
The discussion turned again, and Jolinar grew lost in the words, remembering that they were discussing this neutrally. There was no thinking of this issue in terms of Jolinar's mission, merely a new mission that would require new priorities. For a few minutes, she and Sam let fly their argument for why they would need to volunteer and insist on taking this mission. Sam had caught enough of the talk to know that this would not be an easy, or short, one, but strangely that didn't seem to matter anymore.
All their past goals, ideas, with relation to saving the Abydonians, seemed without proper plan or logical reason now. They had been emotional wishes, and rather than laying it all out before, they had laid each step out as they went along. Sam was just as pleased with Jolinar to know that, if all went well, this mission would have much more of a chance of success.
Sam felt the pull of the web of intrigue and political machinations that defined the Tok'ra's mission among the Goa'uld heirarchy. The widespread dissemination of resources and back-up plans, constantly readjusted with each change in the world outside of the plan, and all preparing for one day in the future when it could all be used to fullest advantage. It was supporting, and stifling all at the same time. Jolinar knew the appreciation for a good plan as well, but she was pleased to feel Sam's desire for just a little more breathing room.
~I can't believe I ever thought of doing this unblended,~ one stray thought escaped from Sam's thoughts.
Jolinar could not agree more dramatically.
Hours had now passed, and at last the Council broke for recess. Sam and Jolinar failed to catch the last tone in the room, but as they all walked out, Malek and Selmak fell in stride.
"It seems that they finally acknowledge that this terror has gone on too far," Malek murmured.
"Yes, Jolinar, you need not fear; my voice will be in favor of this action," Selmak said.
"Indeed, it seems that your voice has found new strength, Selmak," said Malek, looking to him.
"If you have spoken at all to Samantha, you would understand the source," said Selmak amiably.
Jolinar and Sam had a simultaneous moment of satisfaction. If their friends were correct, then the decision prognosis appeared favorable towards them. And Sam could guess, and Jolinar guess more educatedly, that Selmak was as much at peace and comfort as he had ever been. Jacob had not spoken, but Sam felt his presence, and was glad that were going well for him and Selmak.
Nothing was decided yet, but the best thing about issues that relied on logical debate and rationalization was that the end could easily be predicted. And Sam and Jolinar were ready to take on the destruction of Quetesh and subsequent rescue of the Abydonian people as their official mission.