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Chapter 2: Making deals with the Devil...

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Part 9

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Objective Delta
Jupiter's outpost
Milky Way galaxy

It rained on the other side. Orel's weathered face stretched in a semblance of a grin, making his scars stand out. Rain was good, the heavier, the better. It cut down on visibility and thus spotting range. It drowned out sounds and made guards miserable. Who wouldn't want to be inside, warmed by a merry fire or their divine magic?

The only issue was that stumbling through near pitch-black darkness in the night, while that same rain pounded on your armor without stopping, could quickly sap the strength of an armored Jaffa.

In that regard, the scouts were invaluable. They had been deployed on this world for about a month. By now, the scouts knew the area leading to their target well enough.

The only disconcerting thing was, that until Lord Perun's divine revelation, most of their worlds were no better protected than this one. In other words, his Lord's realm had been ripe for the taking. Why waste Jaffa in such menial duties as guarding a Chappa'ai, unless you were at war? Things like that would sting anyone's pride. They were warriors, after all. They were made for battle, not to act as sheepherders!

However, the training and weapons Perun introduced changed things. They demonstrated the hard way, to even the most hard-headed Jaffa that times were changing. If the Jaffa were to keep wining and living, if they were to keep serving their god, as he deserved, they had to awake and change as well. More importantly, this new perspective, made Orel and his fellow Primes consider options and situations, that they wouldn't have thought of before.

Today's mission was a point of fact. There would be little honor in it. Unless something went wrong, there would be precious little honorable combat to enjoy. That was what made this task so important. It was as much a test by Perun as anything else.

Orel was determined that neither he nor his Lighting Legion, would be found waning!

Their target was a moderately sized mining operation. Two factors made it interesting in the first place. First, for a mining operation, there were very few slaves present on the site. This indicated that either the place was a cover for a different activity, or Jupiter had deployed more advanced means to mine naquadah. The second factor reinforced the potential importance of the mining site – it was a small refinery complex that produced a Tel'tak's hold worth of refined naquadah each month. At the time, Orel deployed for an attack, three weeks passed since the garrison sent the last shipment off-world. If nothing else, seizing both refined and unrefined minerals would be of great use.

The mining operation was divided into three separate objectives. Far to the east, most remote and isolated was the mining site itself. The slave pens for the miners were set up nearby, along with three relatively small Jaffa outposts surrounding them, preventing escape.

The second objective was an ore storage facility. It stood close to the refinery itself. By all accounts, that place was lightly guarded.

The third objective was a medium-sized Jaffa base. It was built in an open plain. Under normal circumstances, that would have made a covert approach nearly impossible. It sat between the low mountains nearby containing the mine, and the Chappa'ai. They had to neutralize this base, at the same time, they took the refinery. Otherwise, in a case of raised alarm, they could lose valuable salvage.

Conventional wisdom held that all those facilities were too far from the Chappa'ai to be practical. The same was true for the world Lord Perun was attacking. Jaffa looking for targets to raid rarely went that far out of their way in search of anything useful. Usually, the Chappa'ai was placed as close to anything important on a planet as possible. The only major exceptions were various large throne and agricultural worlds.

Now, Orel had to consider the simple matter of using Goa'uld magic to build important facilities far from the Chappa'ai.

After hours stumbling through the dark, the bulk of the Lighting Legion deployed for the raid were in position. Following Lord Perun's wisdom, Orel left a holding force hiding near the gate, just in case. This left about a third of the deployed Jaffa to move forth, following most of the scouts. Their job was to take and hold the prize until reinforced.

While Orel's second strike unit advanced in the dark, he had his Jaffa surround the base, using darkness and heavy rain for cover. The Prime carefully removed the cap covering his time-piece, an ingenious device created by their god. Four glowing numbers, offered a new, different, and easier to use way to coordinate forces, compared any that the Jaffa had ever heard of before. The numbers slowly counted the passing of Slavna Zemq's time.

"We're moving at four-zero-zero," Perun said after squinting at the time-piece. That would give just enough time for word to reach everyone surrounding the base.

Why no one had thought of something so simple, yet useful before, Orel would never know. Its existence made coordinating forces, or even planning on how to use your time in the day so much easier, it wasn't even funny!

The five minutes that followed were among the longest in Orel's life. All he could do was wait under the chilling rain. Painfully slowly, the minutes on the timepiece counted up, and the Jaffa surged forward, moving as silently as the muddy ground and their armors allowed.

The first wave had knives that could easily pierce even the best chain and plate, for quiet kills, and Zats on the ready if they had to take out someone at a distance. The rest of the Legionaries, who crawled forward at least a few meters behind the leading elements, had their staffs at the ready. If they had to go loud, they were going to storm the place as furiously as they could, before the enemy could mount an effective defense.

In hindsight, Orel was wrong. The waiting in the rain wasn't the hard part. Keeping himself from screaming that they were here to do Perun's bidding, that physically pained the Prime.

Scouts swept over the low earth rampart surrounding the enemy base and went after the few miserable sentries. For a few precious moments, it appeared that they would breach the perimeter without being noticed. That happy state of affairs lasted until a Legionary slipped on a patch of soaked soil made unstable by the rain. He had just sneaked behind his intended target and swung down with a knife for a killing blow when his luck ran out. The blade did strike true, just far off target, and a keening wail fit to awake the dead carried over the base. The storm did little to silence the scream, and by the time the scout managed to finish off the wounded Jaffa, it was too little too late.

"Jaffa, Kree!" Orel roared at the top of his lungs. "Charge!"

The time for dark deeds in the night was over. It would be a battle now, hopefully, still one-sided in the Lighting Legion's favor.

Zat and blade-wielding wraiths wasted no time and charged into the base, followed by muddy, angry apparitions.

Confused, barely awake Jaffa stumbled out of the barracks, while others ran to the armories inside to gear up. Silver Zat blasts hissed quietly through the rain, followed by less than precise plasma bolts. The darkness and rain already made targeting pure bitch. The nearly invisible Legionaries were even harder to see, resembling so many ghosts haunting the base. That advantage, combined with sheer surprise allowed them to quickly gain control of the exterior, bottling in the enemy within their barracks. Lightly armed scouts wasted no time and charged into the command building, soon followed by a much larger detachment.

Meanwhile, Orel took one look at the stalemate at the barracks and grimaced in displeasure. They didn't have time to be halted here.

"Suppressive fire. Use grenades and stack up for close assault." The Prime mercilessly ordered, consigning to death many of his own Jaffa in the process. This was a situation tailor-made for the Space Wolves. Unfortunately, their deployment would give the game up if Perun's Jaffa failed to erase all traces of their presence. That was a risk to their whole realm no one was willing to take at this time.

The hard way it was, Orel grimly decided and joined his Jaffa. This was his mission, his responsibility, and his failure. He was going to make it up good, one way or another.

The Prime stacked right behind the first unit set up the breach the main barracks and offered them a sharp nod. While twenty Jaffa provided covering fire, six others removed grenades from their webbing – a mix of explosive and regular incapacitating.

"Now!" The unit commander barked sharply, and six spheres flew through the opened door and slit windows. A flash of magic meant to overload the senses, followed by deafening explosions that threw debris through the windows signaled the point of attack.

"Go! Go! GO!" A veteran Jaffa screamed. He had discarded his staff weapon for a second Zat and charged inside shooting with both weapons. Improvised assault teams rushed in, Zats and blades on the ready.

Close in, butcher's work followed. Most of the enemy had a tunic and an odd piece of armor at best, though everyone was armed with whatever they could get from the armory. The Legion had the initiative, and armor that could let them survive a single clear hit, even if the damage meant they were out of combat until they could heal up.

Jupiter's Jaffa wasn't that lucky. Practically everything that struck them would kill, incapacitate, or at worst, grievously wound, leaving them easy prey for a follow-up attack.

Outnumbered and outmatched, the enemy Jaffa still fought to the bitter end, offering to surrender. That was all right. Orel would have been loath to refuse it. Those were all good Jaffa they faced this night. They just had the misfortune of serving a lesser, less capable god.

The Prime couldn't properly recall the vicious fighting when it was over. All he can remember were jumbled-up flashes – lit up by the odd surviving torch, and wild weapon fire. He shot a naked madman running forward wielding a massive chair like a club. His armored vambrace shook from a staff's melee attack, making the whole arm numb. It was worth it, because that parry, allowed Orel to get closer and bury his knife in the Jaffa's heart.

He led Legionaries against a last-ditch defensive line made of overturned beds. A short staff cannon barked once, burning through multiple Legionaries, before at least ten Zat shots struck its wielder dead.

Orel jumped over a table and brought down an ancient, white-haired Jaffa, who was still taller than him. Their knives rose and fell in bloody strikes. Even as the ancient Jaffa below Orel gurgled his last breath, while his wicked knife found a chunk in the Prime's armor, and his back felt on fire.

While Orel faded out, he could hear a distant cheer.

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Prime Orel awoke under steel-gray skies, something he didn't expect to see ever again after what little bloody memories he could recall. That old bastard got him in good, proving that any Jaffa who got old to retire was something to watch out for.

One of Lord Perun's attendants knelt above Orel. Her face was scrunched in concentration, while she worked her magic on his wounds.

"You'll live, despite your best attempt to get yourself carved up like roast, Prime," The woman declared with a tired smile. "Our Lord smiles upon you today."

"So shall I." Orel took a deep breath and winced, when something in his back and right lung pulled, in protest.

"Take it carefully. There is only so much I can do out here, while there are other wounded to attend to. You'll live and shouldn't engage in combat over the next few days unless it's a matter of life and death."

"Thank you, my Lady. I have work to do." Orel slowly dragged himself to a sitting position, ignoring the woman's huff.

She stood up, straightened up her simple green skirt, and went to aid another wounded, while a pair of Jaffa followed her.

There were a lot of wounded Jaffa, and a surprisingly few dead set aside for later disposal. They'd achieved a stunning victory for Lord Perun this past night. Finally, it registered to Orel that it was daytime. He looked around, saw where the closest Jaffa providing perimeter security around the wounded was and headed his way.

"Jaffa, Kree! Report! What's our status? What about the other objectives?"

"Prime!" The man smiled in relief when he saw his commander up and walking. "The base is secure. We slaughtered all enemies as ordered. The second objective is secure as well, and we've got the mine surrounded. We were unable to assault it, while still under the cover of darkness, and before its guards could rally. The last I heard, the enemy has a good defensive position, and Acting Prime Charam is waiting for reinforcements before he strikes."

While the situation wasn't ideal, it went better than it could have.

A ripple of sound went through the people nearby, and Orel's head snapped to look back over the wounded. There was a long column of Jaffa marching in from the direction of the Chappa'ai. The golden armor gave them up – they were Custodes.

Orel briefly closed his eyes and fought a wave of bitter disappointment. He knew that there were no more reinforcements available from his own Legion. His people were already stretched too thin between executing two raids, multiple reconnaissance operations, and provided training cadre back home.

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Part 10

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Quarantine Zone 3

Milky Way galaxy

Fortune is a fickle mistress at the best of times, I had to remind myself. While my raid went without a hitch, I couldn't say the same for Orel's. At least I had a mountain of equipment already secured in sensor dampening storage hangars, waiting for a careful sweep for trackers and nasty surprises. That had to serve as a consolation prize, and it was a big one.

Just the major fabricators we recovered from Heru'ur's forward base were enough to nearly double my modern industrial capacity. Several smaller fabbers and precision machinery meant to repair and refurbish parts of Death gliders, and Al'kesh bombers would release available industry for other projects. I would no longer need to keep most of my existing industry bound to merely maintain my existing technological base. Further, we took a lot of spare parts, then on top of them, tore out the most expensive and vital components off the local fleet. We also got some refined trinium and naquadah, which were there to be used in the construction of more small craft.

One unexpected result of this raid was that it brought home how much I was currently outclassed by every single System Lord. While Heru'ur was a special case, it was telling that he could allow himself to stage so much industry in a support of a minor base out in the middle of nowhere. That said industry was nearly as much as I had available in my whole realm, merely rubbed additional salt into the wound so to speak. Granted, Perun used to be on the lower level of Minor Goa'uld with their own realms. He held as much territory as he did only as a reward for supporting Kali when mattered, instead of on his own merits. At the same time, Heru'ur was above most System Lords due to his position as Ra's son and heir.

Nevertheless, the difference in capabilities was staggering. If anything, the results of this raid meant that I must hurry the hell up, if I wanted to have a reasonable chance of survival when the wars began.

The other raid was a mixed bag. Luck wasn't on our side there. One of the scouts going after an enemy sentry slipped on the muddy ground and failed to achieve a silent kill, thus alerting the locals. From preliminary reports, we suffered about thirty permanent casualties there, along with about twice that number of severely wounded. Due to the wonders of this galaxy's medical technology, virtually everyone who didn't die and stay that way would fully recover sooner or later.

After all, I was a benevolent god, who was more than happy to offer his sarcophagus to heal up crippled soldiers. Unfortunately, due to security considerations, it simply wasn't practical to hurry up the dead back for resurrection, while their bodies were still viable for the process.

Considering what Orel and a detachment of my Custodes ran into when finally assaulting the mining complex, my paranoia was anything but unfolded. From the reports I received, relayed through sensor probes, I was pretty sure I knew what was up with that facility. The description sounded painfully like nanotech utilized for mining purposes. As far as I knew, that wasn't a standard Goa'uld practice. Jupiter was experimenting and innovating, which automatically made him more dangerous than the regular snake with a delusion of godhood.

In practice, this revelation meant that everyone I sent on that raid will be spending a long time in quarantine. On the bright side, my strike force recovered about three tons and change of refined naquadah – a large boon if it wasn't infected with nanites. They also got out the core of a modern naquadah refinery, which I would eventually put to good use if it wasn't infected.

Another thing that my people found, which indicated that they ran into a field test of new technology, were several powerful naquadah bombs. My Jaffa found them waiting into a sealed part of the base's armory. Before leaving to be quarantined, Orel set up the charges. In conjunction with the mine being nearby, the resulting explosions were severe enough to either bury the gate or worse, detonate it. At any rate, that site was gone, and unless my people got tagged with some weird tracking nanites that could be detected from far away, we were in the clear. At any rate, just in case, everything recovered, along with my personnel, would be spending weeks, if not months in a shielded underground base.

I wasn't going to risk a gray goo scenario at the heart of my realm.

That said, if everything was clean, or if my people could make it clean, then I was quite ahead of where we were yesterday. The captured naquadah alone might be enough for limited trade with the Serrakin. Either that or I might use a combination of captured equipment to make larger trade deals with Earth than initially envisioned.

When all was said and done, I might be better introducing lower-tech, simpler equipment from Earth, while bargaining for know-how, teachers, and teaching materials with the Serrakin. That way, I would get the best of both worlds and end up ahead of Earth in the educated population department. The latter was important. For the time being, Earth's indigenous technology, and R&D capabilities, would mean that they were in a better place both to reverse engineer technology and put it into production. As long as they got the necessary resources.

In contrast, I soon I would likely have access to more resources I could feasibly make use of, due to lack of industry, and more importantly trained personnel.

Nevertheless, my new strategy was more or less successful. I would be leading and authorizing more raids to recover technology, capture industry, and, intelligence, both military and industrial.

My immediate concerns were to set up a vigil for the honored dead and make sure their families would be well taken care of. That would earn me their continued loyalty, ideally for generations to come, as I continued to treat them well and reward them.

Second, as soon as I was back, I would be arranging a covert meeting as the Serrakin as well, or perhaps not. First, I would have to wait and find out if the naquadah captured by Orel was clean. It simply wouldn't do to send my future trading partners booby-trapped payment.

That left the coming meeting with Earth first, planning another set of raids, second, and waiting for intelligence on Ba'al's stronghold. I needed to finalize a plan on how to present that issue to Kali in order to profit most of its resolution.

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Site Beta
Abandoned Goa'uld world
Milky Way Galaxy

The second diplomatic meeting with Earth was a smaller affair. The principal representatives on both sides were the same. Ambassador Mycroft, Legal adviser Woolsey, and the cultural attache Sonia Kostenkov, who most certainly wasn't a concubine to be gifted away, were on Earth's side. I obviously, represented my most august and divine self.

Daniel Jackson had been a near-permanent fixture at the meeting site. He spent most of every day this past week, speaking with my Jaffa. He was both trying to glean information, and more importantly, improve his understanding of Goa'uld – the modern galactic variant of Ancient Egyptian.

Jack O'Neill was here, with a five-strong team of security, cutting down the Earth group nearly in half compared to their first visit. They arrived carrying a few backpacks that likely contained cultural artifacts.

I had a few stone tablets prepared as a gift. They contained a sanitized history of the Goa'uld, and some cultural advice about the galaxy at large – the thing that most people able to travel independently learned as a matter of course. If nothing else used properly that data might save the lives of a few Earth spies, by keeping them from sticking like sore thumbs into a crowd. I also included the odd harmless Jaffa or Goa'uld legend - the kind I was pretty sure had no relevance to the future.

We exchanged customary greetings, using Daniel as a middle man. His days-long talks helped tremendously. While his accent was rough, and grammar rougher, we could more or less understand each other without hilarious, or embarrassing mishaps.

"Lord Perun, we have authorization from our government to begin preliminary trade negotiations, pending final approval by the President." Mycroft began. "May I inquire why are you so interested in our mining and agricultural technology? We do have a large array of goods and services we might be willing to negotiate for. Why these areas, specifically?"

"To answer your question, I will have to go into detail about our shared ancient history, and the state of the galaxy nowadays. The cultural information I'm ready to exchange does contain a broad overview of the situation at hand as well." I not so subtly hinted.

"Then perhaps we should begin with that point." The cultural attache interjected. "We've prepared various books and recordings containing samples of Earth's culture, past and present, as well as a brief history overview."

No doubt, it was as sanitized as what I had my people prepare.

"In that case, perhaps an exchange in the name of goodwill is in order." I nodded at one of my Custodes, who carried a soft bag filled with stone tablets. I pulled one out and gave a brief description of how to use it.

In exchange, I got two backpacks with books, and one containing a bulky, likely older model laptop, and a few cases with CDs. A glance showed me vaguely familiar covers, including that of Star Wars and Star Trek. At that point, I was barely able to contain my mirth. I made a show of briefly browsing through the contents, and eventually allowed myself a small smile, at seeing Vader's distinct helmet, and a part of an ignited lightsaber.

"Fascinating. I can already say that this has been a most productive exchange for all of us." I paused and turned my head to Daniel. "Dr. Jackson, you might want to get yourself a refreshment, this is going to be a long and involved tale I'm about to tell you, and we do have negotiations to go through as well."

First, I gave them the party line – how the great, benevolent, and all-powerful Ra, god of the sun, and so many other titles it wasn't even funny, created the first Goa'uld dynasty, using Unas as hosts.

"Those are ugly ill-tempered bastards, whose savage instincts didn't affect us for the better." I wasn't even quite stretching the truth. It was a known thing that Goa'uld with Unas hosts sometimes preferred to eat people, among other things. They were often more aggressive and ready to enter a conflict and damn the consequences. "While Ra traveled, the stars," I smiled, grimly at the Tau'ri, "not to mince words, he was, in fact, busy conquering every piece of real estate he deemed useful," I added, "he stumbled upon yet another world inhabited by a primitive species. They turned out to be very useful – easily led, could breed relatively fast, and more importantly, their bodies were easy to repair using Goa'uld technology." I tapped my cheek at the dawning realization of my audience. Their racing emotions were particularly tasty to experience at that moment.

"Earth!" Daniel exclaimed. "Ra found Earth!"

"And as legend has it, when his ship landed in a desert plain, near a group of the locals, while all other ran, one beautiful, brave boy walked into the light…" I added in my best storyteller's voice. "That poor bastard has been Ra's host for thousands of years now."

My story made the diplomats uneasy and had their security detail on edge.

"You know, I might be just a dumb grunt, but I don't see how this story is going to make us want to trade with him," O'Neill muttered. "He's one of those Goa'uld, a parasite infecting a human host, isn't he?"

I blithely ignored O'Neill and continued with the party line, adding my comments at key points, covering how Ra took humans from Earth and seeded them all over the galaxy as hosts and slaves. How one day, thousands of years later, a rebellion erupted on Earth in conjunction with an attempt of certain System Lords to overthrow Ra. With his exalted supremacy busy fighting to keep his throne, and head, Earth's rebellion was successful, the gate buried, and their world became a legend.

"That's why I call you the Tau'ri. That is who you are to the wilder galaxy – the mythical first human world, ripe with countless slaves for the taking."

"Yet here you are, wanting to trade with us?" Mycroft carefully asked and waited for Daniel to translate.

"I'm a minor Goa'uld who rules over eleven ill-developed worlds. I have just a handful of capital ships and enough Jaffa to keep my realm relatively safe against rival incursions." I said just as carefully.

One of the first things they taught us in the Sith Academy on Korriban was that trying to lie to a more powerful and experienced Sith was madness. Our best chance, when our survival depended on deception, was to mislead, by telling the truth. Just not the whole truth, and being very careful of the context we spoke of.

The ultimate expression of that ability was to lie our asses off by telling nothing less than truths. Why lie, when a well-placed truth could be more devastating?

As a bonus, that way we didn't have to try and remember what lie we told to whom, hugely decreasing the odds of being caught in our lies.

In hindsight, and if I felt charitable, I could admit that despite being an utter hell, there were some useful truths and vital skills I learned while suffering in that hell hole.

"While the situation can somewhat vary from realm to realm, most of my kind keep their human subjects as primitive, slaves, who are barely able to sustain themselves. That state of affairs more or less persists across the galaxy and is aimed to decrease the odds of an expensive rebellion. For example, humans in Ra's realm, except for the few he raises in his personal guard, are forbidden to learn to read and write at the pain of death. Merely possession anything with writing on it, is grounds for arrest, interrogation, and execution." My expression grew darker and darker as I spoke, and gradually my voice folded into a full Goa'uld thanks to puppeteering my symbiote. "Do I need to explain to you, what bloody waste is to have most of my subjects waste their lives as farmers who could barely feed their families? Or miners using tools that were obsolete at the time Ra first came to your world?!"

"Do you claim you're a paragon of enlightenment?!" O'Neill snorted, earning himself a sharp rebuttal by the Ambassador.

"I've spent the past year building hospitals, schools, and basic things as sewers and aqueducts across my realm. Yet, most of my people are still stuck toiling under primitive conditions, because even inquiring about ways to better their working conditions can be a death sentence for me, and might see my real raised to the ground." I flashed my eyes at the Tau'ri. "As a general principle, the Goa'uld don't tolerate any people more advanced than stabbing themselves with pointy sticks and sharp pieces of metal. What my probe recorded in the room you hold the Chappa'ai, would be enough to see a fleet dispatched to Earth to destroy your civilization and enslave any survivors. What I'm offering you is a chance to prepare, so when the storm comes, your world will have a fighting chance. In exchange, I want the tools I need to better prepare my realm to survive the coming wars." I paused to take a breath and visibly calm myself down. "Ra's long peace lasted too long, and many System Lords grew enough in power to be able to challenge him if a few of them ally with each other. My scouts confirm that various System Lords are building forward bases preparing to strike at Ra and their most dangerous rivals. When the war comes, worlds burn, and everyone needs an easy, defenseless place to get millions of slaves to feed their war machines, they will come looking for you like I did. And they will find you if for no other reason, that even the weakest System Lord has orders of magnitude more resources than I can throw around."

"You don't want just trade." The Ambassador concluded. "You're looking for an alliance."

"Eventually it might come to that. When you're able to confirm the state of the galaxy by yourselves, we will talk more on that topic. All I want until then is a fair trade deal. That, and the opportunity to ensure you can find the truth without drawing hostile attention. Make no mistake, any attention from my kind will be hostile, and can be fatal."

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