AN: Here we have a taste of how things on the System Lord's side had changed. While in some respects a Jaffa's lot in life is quite different, they still have to die in job-lots for the Goa'uld ambitions.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Mass Effect games, nor books, neither any of the Stargate TV series, movies or books. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not created with commercial aim. I make no money from it.

A Different Galaxy: Stargate/ME fusion

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Phase 2. An old Prime's morning

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25.11.2170 SGD

Prime training academy

Chulak

Master Bra'tac stood straight and pretended to listen to Ra's speech for the new Prime candidates. The supreme god's "magic" made the man's image float above the old man's desk. Ra's words echoed through the large well lit chamber, dazzling the younger and more gullible Jaffa. All but a handful students in Bra'tac's class were young men deemed intelligent enough to be taught to command. There was a smattering of older faces spread through out the rest. Those were all veterans who earned the chance of becoming leaders of warriors on the battlefield. They were easy to distinguish – all were fully grown up, towering at least a head above their younger brethren. Some had scars they proudly displayed for the world to see, but most importantly, it was the way they carried themselves – they had faced death, knew that seldom their gods were in any position to actually help on the battlefield. A few of them might even be willing to listen to Bra'tac, perhaps even willing to eventually consider treason.

Ra continued to natter about the Goa'uld superiority, about all the good the "gods" did for the Jaffa, which for a change wasn't a complete sack of lies… Ah, here it goes.

"Soon my children, our benevolent tolerance for the alien fools will run out! We will raise as one and sweep the unbelievers from the galaxy! We willbring their people the enlightenment of the gods! We will bring them the gift their leaders deny them even now!" Ra roared to the masses.

While that wasn't the Supreme Lord's best speech – far from it, Bra'tac thumped his fist over his chest in a warrior salute as it was proper. To give the snake his due, no matter what one may say about Ra, the man was charismatic. Even when speaking utter nonsense, both Jaffa and humans tended to listen and believe him.

Ra continued to natter. It wouldn't be long now, before the recording would be over. Bra'tac had to fight not to laugh aloud at the bit of usual propaganda that followed – how the Jaffa were superior warriors thanks to the blessing of the gods, how the really faithful Jaffa could never lose to the dastardly foe…

Anyone who hadn't been indoctrinated from birth would have asked some pointed questions. Like why even now, more than a thousand years later, the Citadel degenerates weren't crushed, their people liberated from the lies of their leaders.

One might also wonder why as often as not, no matter the intention or blessing from the gods, battles both on land and in space were lost…

Bra'tac put a manic grin on his face and shouted his adulation along with everyone in the room at the appropriate time as the speech was ending. Fortunately everyone who saw his face mis-interpreted his expression for one of adulation. Oh, the smile was more or less real, just the reasons behind it was quite different than expected.

The Jaffa Master had been stuck at this job for a second decade in a row. While his position allowed him a chance to influence some among the future leaders of the Goa'uld armies, it was quite boring – something made worse by the constant propaganda he was fed while on Chulak. It was even less fun figuring out how to balance the what was told to the Prime candidates and the reality he had to prepare them for without breaking the belief that their lords and masters were actual gods instead of damned parasites.

As if to emphasize that point, the damn snake he carried in his gut began shifting so it could be more comfortable. Bra'tac sent a mental curse to the Primta which finally settled down by the time Ra's long winded speech was over. He waited for a few moments so everyone could stop cheering the System Lord before walking to stand in front of his desk so he could be closer to the candidates.

"You've all been sent here because you Masters deemed you worthy!" Bra'tac used his best command voice for this. Making a good and memorable first impression was vital in his experience. "You're here because you've shown potential, have the brains and dedication to serve our gods in one of the most important roles they might deign to grant any Jaffa!" He paused and looked over the candidates.

The youths were all preening at the praise. Cocky young fools. The veterans on the other hand were staring at him warily – they were experienced enough to know that an old bastard like him would have at least one, possibly more unpleasant surprises in store for them all.

"You've all heard the proclamations, the battle accounts of glorious victories." The Jaffa Master proclaimed.

There were actually some big Goa'uld victories – that much was true. Bra'tac, in his youth, had been a part of multiple campaigns and some were successful both tactically and strategically. Others failed miserably. Both had something in common – they were either won or lost after oceans of Jaffa blood had been spilled.

"There were defeats too." Bra'tac added quietly enough that the candidate had to lean forward to hear him properly despite the good acoustic in the room. "Some were caused by fools who lacked faith in our benevolent gods. By traitors who spat on all the magical gifts we were given and continue to receive daily!"

As expected, most of the youths began decrying the faithless.

"Silence! You will speak when addressed!" Bra'tac's voice snapped like a torturer's whip. "There is another kind of defeat. One born of hubris. Of the mistaken belief that just because you're faithful servants of our gods, they will intervene and stop you from getting our people killed when you make mistakes. That is not the case!" Bra'tac declared loudly. "You're here to learn to be the best Primes you could possibly be. One of you, if he's talented and lucky enough, might even one day become the First Prime for his god. However, before any of that could happen, you're all mine." The Jaffa Master gave his charges a wide smile. It was mostly genuine too. "You will learn everything the other masters and I have to teach you. You will how our enemies think. What tactics and strategies they like to use. You will know the capabilities of their equipment along with those of our own..." Bra'tac continued his tired and tested speech.

Once he was done, he beamed at the candidates.

"One of the first thing you will learn is that before being a Prime, you'll need to be able to do a regular Jaffa warrior's job at least as well as he can. A few of you already know that. The rest are about to learn. All of you have passed the basic training and have a kernel on knowledge to be built upon." Bra'tac's grin widened until it felt like his face was going to split in two. "Now its time you put those skills to the test. Masters!"

"Jaffa Kreee!" Multiple throats roared from the back of the room.

"Take this bunch and make sure they remember which way to point a staff-rifle." Bra'tac dismissed the class.

He smirked when the combat instructors began corralling the candidates towards the training ground to the east. With this bit of trivia over, he had twenty minutes to prepare for the next class – a second year one covering Turian Cabal tactics and how to oppose them without Biotic Warriors or heavy support to call upon.

That was always a fun class to teach.