Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Wars, or Stargate movies, TV shows, games, books, or comics. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not for sale or rent.
Chapter 3: A Sith in Lady Kali's court
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Part 1
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7Jun 1996
Project Giza complex
Cheyenne Mountain
United States
Milky Way galaxy
A haggard-looking Henry Hayes dragged himself into the project's main conference room. A direct flight to Washington to brief the President, followed by another one back, did him no favors. That was on top of a sleepless night spent preparing said briefing.
Henry sat at the single free chair and took a drink of his coffee. The beverage was mostly caffeine with enough sugar to keep the spoon upright, and for a brief moment allowed himself to feel pleasant warmth spread through his body. That short-lived kick to the system quickly faded, leaving him once more, wearier than he had been in a very long time.
"I need to know a few things. First, what do we know for sure? Second, what do we think we know, based on everything that aliens gave us. Third, how much of that data is as much bullshit as we fed him through our cultural materials?" Hayes requested answers and looked back at his coffee with ill-disguised intent to finish it off as soon as his stomach settled down a bit.
"I vote for utter bullshit!" Colonel O'Neill raised a hand. "That thing admitted it's a parasite infesting some poor bastard! Sadly, I can't prove he is full of it!"
"We got you the first time, Jack, there was no need to repeat yourself." West gently chided his old friend.
"What we know for sure is that their ceremonial weapons have the punch roughly equivalent to an RPG, though much lesser kill radius." Jack straightened up and answered in a no-nonsense tone. "A direct hit in the torso will be deadly, no matter what personal armor we wear. A glancing hit can be survival… if we don't wear armor with metal insert. The plasma would heat said metal, causing additional heat and shock damage, significantly increasing the odds of a fatal outcome. A hit to an appendage would almost certainly sever it, incapacitate the poor bastard, and possibly kill them through shock. Several gel dummies and targeting mannequins valiantly sacrificed their existence to earn us this data. To make our lives even more interesting, a few limited tests indicate that the staff weapon can burn through light armor. Up-armored Humvee s and APCs likely won't be able to resist more than a handful of shots before being compromised." Jack took a sip of water, before continuing. "From what I experienced handling the weapon, it is indeed a ceremonial piece. It lacks any proper features to aid in targeting something. This makes it a strictly short-range weapon against human-sized targets. Another weakness is the slow rate of fire. Now, the next bit is speculation, we'll have to wait for proper tests to be certain. At range an average soldier can aim those things, they could be a credible threat to even modern IFVs and tanks, especially if they can get repeated shots at the sides and rear. What makes this especially problematic, is that these weapons are not only ceremonial, they are still an only hand-held personal weapons, instead of heavy weapon meant to deal with vehicles and armor. At this point, we know nothing about what heavier systems the Goa'uld deploy as a matter of course." Jack took another sip of water, before finishing his presentation. "Further, we know that their actual soldiers are using rifles, and if nothing else we can assume that they're more accurate. They might trade stopping power for firing speed or have both. We can't know for certain before seeing them in action."
"Without more information, I can't speak in detail about the Goa'uld industry. We know for a fact they can produce energy weapons, advanced drones, and computers. They possess a piece of in-depth knowledge on how the Stargate operates, and are able to utilize it through the device a fraction of the size of what we currently need." Woolsey summarized. "What Perun told us, might actually be true. They might throw many warm bodies at agriculture and extraction industries. If they have enough," Richard grimaced in distaste at that, "slaves, and enough mines, our technical advantages in those areas might make no difference in the great scheme of things. Further, the advanced technology we've seen is not something that uneducated slaves can ever hope to build. Those weapons, the drone, and similar devices require factories more advanced than ours, and skilled personnel who know what they're doing. Then we've got the design process – someone first had to figure the need for and benefit of the equipment we saw, design it, and figure how to build it. Those people could be a lower caste among the Goa'uld – technicians, artisans, scientists, and industrial workers. If they have a large enough Empire, the Goa'uld could potentially afford to use inefficient work as slavery, and indeed keep the slaves ignorant as a way to maintain control."
"I was afraid of that." The secretary of State muttered. "Dr. Jackson?" Hayes asked.
"What Perun told us, what he sent us and what little writing survived from the site in Egypt roughly tell us the same tale. If he's lying about something, it's probably by omission. That, and because we still don't know which questions to ask. There are also various fascinating fables either about other Goa'uld, or Jaffa, who appear to be their soldiers. I'm inclined to agree with Mr. Woolsey, at least until we get more information. It appears that the Goa'uld society is highly stratified and divided into castes, with humans generally being the lowest one. Then we have Minor Goa'uld which is a wide branch – some are indeed scientists or engineers. They could be advisers of higher-ranked Goa'uld, or even hold substantial domains. From what I can gather based on the available information, Perun is among the more successful and powerful Minor Goa'uld. Further, we do now have a very strong indication, that many ancient Earth religions were either influenced, co-opted, or founded in the first place by aliens. If just a place within a pantheon matters, then Perun might be more powerful than he is telling us. Perun was the head of his pantheon. On the other hand, if it also matters how powerful the people following said pantheon historically were, then Perun could indeed be a relatively small fish, trying to survive into shark-infested waters. For example, Egypt used to be an ancient super-power, and Ra, the head of their pantheon, is the being supposedly controlling most of the galaxy."
"What about the claim that most Goa'uld would consider us enemies just because of how technologically advanced we are?" The Ambassador inquired. "For all our power, we're one nation among many, still largely stuck on a single planet.
"A mixed bag. We know that there was a rebellion in ancient Egypt, that it was successful and the gate buried. It might be just that, back then, we were too far away to bother with. We don't know how far away by ship we're from the closest alien stronghold. Besides, this gives further credence to Perun's tale about an uprising among the Goa'uld trying to oust Ra from power." Jackson pointed out. "He could have been too busy to bother, then too weakened to risk sending ships here, then we just stopped mattering, I guess?"
"I see." Hayes hummed to himself. "The President wants a recommendation. You've been the people to have personal contact with Perun. Do we continue negotiations tomorrow and make a deal, or try to slowly back off, trying not to piss off the aliens? What are your thoughts on the matter?"
"We can learn much, save us a lot of time and potentially lives if we accept aid from Perun. Making a mutually beneficial deal now doesn't tie us up into an alliance, or a much closer association by default." Woolsey suggested. "Doing so would gain us some more useful technology to reverse engineer, and we'll have an opportunity to see how much our new acquaintance is deceiving us."
I admit it, I already hate those parasites on a deep, instinctual level!" O'Neill shuddered. "However, intelligence can either pave us a way to the future, or the lack of it can break us. If we can trust Perun as far as I can throw him, and that's a big if, then a simple trade deal could be very useful. We know virtually nothing about what's out there, the dangers and opportunities, what we have to look for, or to avoid it at any cost."
That was the gist of it. While morally speaking, no one was thrilled at working with Perun, everyone who went off-world and saw him, agreed that the United States had much to gain, at a relatively cheap price.
A call to the White House later, Hayes got his going orders, instructed his aides to prepare a bunch of catalogs about mining and digging equipment, then went to finally catch up some shut-eye.
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Part 2
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Site Beta
Abandoned Goa'uld world
Milky Way galaxy
The powers that be gave green-light to the trade deal. They were going to finalize a trade deal with the devil, then keep working with him for the foreseeable future. Jack didn't know how, or when, however, he was sure that this particular decision would sooner, or later, bite them all in the ass.
Nevertheless, like a good soldier, he followed his orders. Jack escorted the diplomats back to the meeting point. This time it was just the Ambassador and his technically-legal adviser, or whatever official title Woolsey had.
It wasn't all bad. The two negotiators were armed with briefcases full of paperwork, and catalogs from various US manufacturers of agricultural machinery and mining equipment. Perun would be stuck fighting that particular hydra for the foreseeable future, instead of doing dastardly parasite things. Whatever those were. Perhaps kicking cute puppies and curdling milk with his very presence?
The Stargate activated with a swoosh, and Perun strutted down the stone stairs, accompanied by smaller security detail. He wore black painted armor, had an even darker shimmering cape fluttering in the light wind behind him…
"You've got to be kidding me!" Jack exclaimed when he saw a very distinct and recognizable cylinder hanging from the parasite's belt.
"Colonel, what's up with you…" Mycroft trailed off. The Ambassador took in the approaching abomination and groaned. "I'll strangle whoever gave him Star Wars to watch! What's next?! Is he going to arrive on a Star Destroyer in orbit, or build the Death Star?!"
"Greetings, Tau'ri! Today you can call me Darth Perun, Dark Lord of the Sith! Further, I must congratulate you on the shrewd negotiating tactic! Which one of you is carrying the first three episodes of Star Wars, and what do you want for them?" Perun's voice thundered, leaving the whole Earth delegation speechless.
Five minutes later, O'Neill stared at a despondent-looking parasite with a stony expression on his face. His eyebrows kept twitching, while Daniel gently tried his best to explain that there were no Star Wars prequels yet.
"It's settled then!" Perun declared grandly, making Daniel wince during translation. "When we're done concluding the agreed-upon deals, we'll talk about financing prequels of the piece of art that is Star Wars! I want to see those infamous Clone Wars, the Jedi Order's fall, and the rise of the Empire!"
A very nervous Ambassador nodded numbly, before somehow guiding the conversation back to the topic at hand.
For the next few hours, the ball was almost entirely in Woolsley's and Perun's court. They, along with Daniel discussed the merits and availability of various tractors, assorted attachments for different agricultural work, and so forth, trying to reach a deal with the parasite.
There were two primary sticking points – Perun wanted thousands of machines to spread over five worlds, with the bulk of them going to his primary agricultural center. While doable, Jack didn't even want to think about what hoops all kinds of people would have to jump through to hide the recipient of such a large order.
The second issue frankly came from left field, surprising everyone.
"You'll be offering me machines with electrical motors, right? No one is using, what you called it, oil?" Everyone looked in surprise when Daniel translated that particular bit.
"We might be willing to sell oil as well?" Mycroft tried to sweeten the deal.
"Why would I want that and the increased logistics burden? If I absolutely need oil, I have eleven worlds, I'm sure at least a few of them would have more than enough to meet my needs. Building supporting infrastructure to use something like that is going to be a problem, and frankly a waste of time and resources." Perun didn't waver from his position.
"I'm not sure if anyone is producing practical electric engines for tractors, much less for the kind we can easily fit through the Stargate." Woolsey countered.
"I see what are you doing, and while I think you're being greedy bastards on this point, it is a good one. I'm willing to pay a premium for equipment with electrical engines. The same goes for the mining equipment. Otherwise, the investment in supporting infrastructure would make the trade-offs mostly moot. It would take me longer, however, I might as well waste my people's time on designing and building the necessary equipment instead of buying it from you. The primary benefit of this deal for me is saving time. Building the infrastructure to extract, refine and move around oil in large quantities makes most benefits of the deal moot. The same goes if I have to buy fuel in sufficient quantities from you."
Thousands of light-years away from Earth, during negotiations with alien parasites, everything somehow came back down to oil?! O'Neill didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry bitter tears.
The oil issue stretched negotiations significantly. In the end, Mycroft and Woolsey somehow managed to cludge together something that had a distant shot at working. They would do their utmost to solve the engine, and its fueling issue, considering the large orders Perun wanted to be fulfilled. In exchange, he would prospect for oil on his worlds, and if it was worth it for both parties, they might create a joint company to exploit it.
O'Neill wasn't sure about the logistics. How did you ship oil through the gate in any meaningful amounts? Perhaps using space tankers, but then there was distance and price? Then again, he was just a grunt. At least Mycroft looked terribly pleased with himself.
Woolsey too, for that matter, though if Jack was any judge of character, it was about the promised payment – a thousand staff weapons, know-how, and tools to maintain them. Just like everything Perun would be paying in exchange, the trade would occur one batch of equipment at a time. In the weapons' case, that meant two hundred of them. Next came ten kilograms of naquadah, a precious metal with supposed wondrous properties, and another ten kilograms of trinium. The latter was a very strong, yet lightweight material, that could be alloyed with naquadah for even better results. Earth would also get the basic building blocks of the Goa'uld computer technology. That was the know-how to grow crystals, how to write and read the information on them. Two old aerospace-capable fighters, with basic weapon suites, clinched the deal. As a gesture of goodwill, Perun was going to deliver one fighter in exchange for the first batch of equipment, and the second for the last.
On top of that, Perun and his people would provide intelligence on the strategic galactic situation, and help train US teams on how to safely operate on distant worlds, among other things.
The deal appeared generous and slanted in Earth's favor. O'Neill couldn't help but wonder what was the big catch.
It was at the end of the meeting, when Jenkins, a new addition to the security detail commented that Perun's lightsaber was a nice prop. At Perun's request, Daniel did gingerly translate the sergeant's words.
"Why would I carry a fake weapon?!" Perun heard Daniel's sanitized response and exclaimed.
His right hand moved sharply and plucked the cylinder from his belt. He made a flourish and pressed a very visible button on the lightsaber's side. A silver blade came to life with a loud and very distinct snap-hiss sound.
"Of course he built himself a real lightsaber…" O'Neill groaned.
Considering that Perun had only a few days to watch Star Wars before building himself a real lightsaber, that now illuminated the trade deal in a different light. The parasite was giving them second, or even third-rate equipment, which was still a major improvement on everything in its class Earth had. And he was doing it simply to save time and pad up a weakness on the cheap.
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