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Chapter 15: The path to war can be paved with the best of intentions

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Part 7

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Slavna Zemq
Perun's Throne World
Milky Way Galaxy

Two small machines a bit larger than Bra'tac's fist silently raced down the corridor. Golden light burst forth from them, washing over everything in sight before focusing on him. A long time ago, he believed such things were divine servants or, at worst, tools that could only be created with the magics wielded by the Gods. Now, he knew better, though that didn't fundamentally change things. These machines were no less useful or dangerous, no matter if a Goa'uld created them by wielding divine powers or ordered one of their craftsmen to wield them.

"It is good to see you aren't carrying unpleasant surprises, Master Bra'tac," Prime Vasil commented after the flying balls silently flew back the way they came from.

"I am here to negotiate in good faith," The old Jaffa offered. Nevertheless, he was relieved.

Apophis was a treacherous and temperamental False God. Bra'tac wouldn't put it past him to have ordered something particularly nasty put in the armor he wore. At the same time, doing so in this case made no sense. Even most False Gods usually had reasons for what they did, even if those reasons were pure cruelty. As far as the Jaffa Master knew, there was no ongoing conflict between Apophis and Perun. The same was true about ancient vendettas; not even a minor border conflict, which made sense – their respective realms were separated by those of other Goa'uld.

Finally, they reached a surprisingly small chamber deep within the palace, where a man with a warrior's build was working on a desk covered with stone tablets. The place was remarkably spartan. What few decorations Bra'tac could see nearly melted with the walls, making them easy to ignore if you weren't looking for them. There was little gold as well. It was almost exclusively used to gild the weapons held in dark wooden displays that nearly melted into the walls, or so it seemed.

"Prime Bra'tac, servant of Apophis himself," the man behind the desk spoke in a deep voice without looking away from a hovering display of light that showed Bra'tac's armor in great detail. Perun, presumably, raised his head, and his eyes glowed for a moment before he spoke to his Prime.

"Leave us, Vasil. Master Bra'tac is no threat, no matter how capable he is."

The old Jaffa bristled inside at the veiled insult. He might be old and wouldn't survive an attempt to kill the Goa'uld, but simply dismissing him as a threat? Was that sheer arrogance as expected of a False God, or was Perun, an experienced warrior who was merely confident in his skill? He did style himself as a Warrior God, to the amusement of Apophis and his court.

Heru'ur, Cronus and some others lived up to such boasts. Yet, most Goa'uld, no matter if they were False Gods or not? It didn't matter what they claimed. The great majority of Goa'uld were no warriors.

"Even in this distant corner of the galaxy, we've heard of you, Master Bra'tac, the teacher of Teal'c, the First Prime of Apophis," Perun tapped his desk with a finger, and the transparent image in front of him vanished.

"I am honored, Lord Perun," Bra'tac offered an appropriately deep blow. "I offer greetings from my Lord Apophis. He sent me as his envoy."

"What does Apophis wish of me? I can make an educated guess."

Bra'tac spent a few long moments deciding how to respond. He had been thinking about how he could approach his task since Klorel ordered him here. Ultimately, the Jaffa Master chose to treat Perun as a fellow warrior and see how far that might get him.

"My Lord wishes to save time and resources by acquiring weapon and equipment designs you have developed," Bra'tac explained plainly and respectfully."Lord Apophis also wants to avoid wasting time developing the best ways to utilize the tools of war you created, Lord Perun. To achieve an agreement, my Master is ready to offer resources and potentially a limited number of tools to build more equipment. The final price would depend on what you are willing and able to deliver, my Lord."

"Regarding equipment, I simply can't offer more than examples. Between what Lord Ra requires and the need to outfit the Jaffa on my new worlds with adequate gear, my production capacity is tapped for the foreseeable future. Resources are less than a problem. Suppose your Master hasn't figured it out already. In that case, he will know soon – I have a similar deal to the one he offers with Lord Yu," Perun explained in a surprisingly mild tone.

There was none of the grandstanding or arrogance that Bra'tac was expecting. Perun was talking with him like a peer, if not equal, which was a scarce experience as far as the Goa'uld were concerned. It was becoming crystal clear that dealing with Perun plainly, warrior to warrior, was the right call. Klorel and Apophis were apparently right on that front.

Bra'tac didn't know any details about Perun's deal with Lord Yu. If it were an exclusive agreement, the only one beyond Perun's relationship with Ra, successful negotiations might not have been possible. That would be unfortunate for many reasons. If Apophis or Klorel knew more about it, they didn't bother to enlighten their envoy.

"I understand, Lord Perun. What can you offer, my Master?" Bra'tac inquired.

"As I said, examples of armor and weapons. For the right price, I can offer data crystals with the designs. That would save time. A few vehicles, their designs, and most importantly, the knowledge of how to best utilize what I've developed? That would cost your Master. I've spent what feels like a lifetime acquiring the knowledge I used in developing my craft."

This was the first time Bra'tac heard pride in Perun's voice. It was over something he had done with his own hands, no matter what divine powers and inspiration he might have. That was something Bra'tac could respect. It was also a breath of fresh air compared to the usual boasts he had to endure from Goa'uld. At least when veteran Jaffa boasted, they did it after fighting and risking their lives in combat. Most Goa'uld sent good people to die, often for no good reason, then took credit.

Bra'tac felt uneasy the more he gleaned of Perun's character. Here was a God who might very well be worthy of the title. The contrast between this brief exchange and enduring the typical audience with Apophis was startling.

It was unfortunate that Perun was merely a minor God with good ideas.

"I hope we can reach a satisfactory agreement, Lord Perun. Besides resources, Lord Apophis authorized me to offer several compact portable refineries and foundries for Chapa'ai transport. The exact numbers will depend on what you can offer, my Lord," Bra'tac said. That was the maximum offer he could make, yet doing so now wasn't an issue, considering that Perun was ready to deal with everything Apophis wanted.

"First, a handful of examples of each item I am selling you. That way, Lord Apophis can verify that the designs I am selling him work. Second, I have two options for you. I can send a small training cadre to train a group of your Jaffa as trainers. The other option is for Apophis to send some of his Jaffa, who train his warriors, to observe and learn from the veterans training my warriors. That option has the benefit of your Lord knowing he is receiving what he pays for."

That was something Bra'tac hadn't thought of, and Klorel didn't mention either as an issue. He could see how any Jaffa Perun sent might teach Apophis warriors flawed ways to use the new forms of war. However, if they observed what Perun's warriors were doing and why they were doing it, then the odds of such a betrayal were lower.

"I will relay your proposition to my Lord Apophis, Lord Perun. I am confident that my Master would agree to acquire the equipment examples and their designs. Which option for training his armies Lord Apophis will choose will be up to him," In this regard, Bra'tac could, in theory, speak for the False God. After all, Apophis gave him written authorization and guidelines about what he could offer.

"Let us discuss the details of the exchange then."

"The final price will depend on what exactly you deliver, my Lord," Bra'tac reminded the Goa'uld. Instead of bristling at being spoken back to, Perun simply nodded.

Haggling with a Goa'uld was a novel experience for Bra'tac, yet that was precisely what followed.

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Part 8

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20 November 1996

Storm Industries Corporate HQ

Colorado Springs, Colorado

The United States

Earth

Milky Way Galaxy

After a few days of ensuring everyone was on the same page, specific crippling issues raised their ugly heads. They should have seen those coming, though Samara thought there was little to do to prepare for the challenges at hand.

The problems became evident when Lady Lyda attempted to explain various theories and concepts in a way the scientists and engineers she was about to teach could understand. The first obstacle was that although the alien woman was more than fluent in English, that didn't quite translate into a good enough understanding of Earth's scientific terms and measuring systems. Fixing that was a work in progress.

Issue number two was that English simply needed more words for certain concepts. Besides, translating the math used by the Goa'uld to something everyone could work with was proving troublesome, to say the least.

Next came another foreseeable obstacle, which could only be solved with time and effort: the actual introduction of theories far ahead of anything Earth had at this time.

Samara struggled with the Goa'uld understanding of gravity, which went way more profound than anyone thought possible. That made sense. The drives used by the aliens for their vessels were, at their core, gravity manipulation devices. When married to various other technologies, they, in practice, became inertialess drives. That was something straight out of science fiction and, until recently, thought impossible as far as any self-respecting scientist was concerned.

The rest of the galaxy disagreed and had the hardware to prove their point.

Samara's stomach growled, angry at being ignored. The noise and unpleasant sensation of emptiness startled her. So much for being more aware than the likes of Felger!

Samara gathered her notes, closed her laptop into its carry bag, and headed to the cafeteria. On the way there, she had to pass through two checkpoints similar to the ones in the depths of Area 51. Well, that wasn't fair. There were fewer exposed pipes, and the building looked much better than anything the average government contractor could come up with while remaining vaguely on budget.

The food was much better, too! That was partly due to their alien benefactor splurging for quality ingredients and chiefs who didn't have to cook for a small army.

The mystery of where everyone was solved the moment Samara reached the cafeteria. Her fellow scientists and engineers were there, eating or discussing their latest lesson over mugs of coffee and the odd cup of tea. Samara beelined to the closest accessible spot and claimed it by dumping her bag on it before marching to load a tray with food.

Besides two regular meals the cooks here cooked for lunch and dinner, there was always a rich buffet for those who weren't operating on a regular schedule. From what Samara could note since her arrival, Lady Lyda fell in that group, which explained much.

Carter returned to the table, carefully balancing her tray and a big cup of coffee. The latter was of a quality that would be luxury on her salary, and she was getting paid very well by government standards. After Samara had sat down and dug into her food, she decided to see who else was at the table. Two aerospace engineers from Boeing, if she remembered right. They weren't exactly the crowd she gravitated with.

"The implications are endless!" One of them was saying. "Space mining! Automated cargo ships! The future is now!"

"A computer error and one of those robot cargo ships you keep babbling about can gut a city or worse," the second many noted in a long-suffered tone.

"We should have orbital defenses by then! So that's not an issue! We have practically a free lift now! Just think what we can do with it!"

"They'll be testing one of the alien vessels with an inert load next Monday. Then, we will know how feasible it is to use them that way. Mind you, their engines are unreal. Even if these fighters can't do it, we should be able to make something useful with just a power plant, engine, and controls from one. All we'll need it to do is go up, release cargo, and land in one piece," he dismissively waved a hand, "No fancy fighter stunts. Besides, who thought that fighters would be useful in space? Star Wars isn't supposed to be real."

"The alien king built himself a lightsaber. And the galaxy-spanning empire we know of uses space fighters," Samara pipped up between two bites of mashed potatoes liberally seasoned with gravy.

"That's my point!" Number one declared victory.

His friend scowled at Samara and buried his face into his cup of tea.

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Late that day, Samara was back in the conference room alongside most of the scientists for whom this lecture would be relevant. Most of them were theoretical types. The engineers who were up to speed were spread over the lower floors, doing their best to design better tools so they could then build even more devices.

Another set of scientists and engineers were apparently doing their best impression of slamming their heads into a concrete wall. They did it by trying to grow useful crystals similar to those the aliens used in all their computer systems. The storage alone, one of those offered, was beyond revolutionary. Yet, that whole field paled compared to the groundbreaking science they were doing here.

"What is gravity?" Lyda asked again. She opened her first teaching session on the subject that way and has kept doing it ever since.

The answers kept changing, and Samara hoped they were getting closer and closer to the truth. It was both instrumental and even more frustrating that they had to figure it out together. Despite everyone's best efforts, they lacked the shared understanding and foundations for Lyda to explain it in a helpful way.

The math kept making no sense, even if, with every passing day, Samara was more and more confident there were fewer and fewer misunderstandings on that front.

"How does gravity work?" Lyda repeated her second vexing question.

According to the alien, all viable theories Earth had on the subject merely described what people could observe and created a reasonably accurate model based on those observations. However, that wasn't an explanation of how gravity worked from where she stood. Why did objects with mass have gravity? What precisely was gravity? How could you harness it? And more importantly, how could you bend it to your will? Was it a force in itself? Was it merely a distortion of space-time created by sufficient mass? Or perhaps something else?

Four whiteboards covered in equations Samara could hardly begin to wrap her head around were the tip of the iceberg they had to conquer. She was excited that she could be the first human from Earth to solve one of them!