November 10 1998, Amaunet's Jewel, the World of the Tau'ri
Mark stepped in through the door, feeling exhausted. He had worked five hours longer than normal, since Apophis had apparently made some sort of deal with another Goa'uld - at least that was what people in the office thought.
Regardless, the result had been that they had been ordered to find a great number of slaves that fulfilled very specific criteria - so and so many blond women of a certain age, guaranteed to be virgins, another group of both men and women, who all had to be under 20, good looking (definitions attached), and with no body art or piercings... the list went on. It had been difficult, but they had succeeded - as proven by the very fact that they were still alive. One did not fail Apophis.
"Finally! Mark - you need to do something about the neighbors!" His wife, Marian insisted.
"Marian, sweetheart, not right now. I'm exhausted." He threw himself on the sofa that they had managed to find and carry home from a warehouse, only a month ago.
"Sorry." Marian smiled, but then frowned. "It's just... I fear for the kids. For all of us, if they're allowed to carry on. I mean, I've considered turning them in myself, but you don't to something like that, you know? Not if there's another way."
"What are you talking about?" Mark looked confused.
"Have you forgotten? We talked about it last week, too!" She shook her head, and sat down beside him. "The neighbors - they're having that..." She lowered her voice. "Underground church."
"Oh. Yeah, I remember. It doesn't concern us - as long as we don't know anything about it, and you told them you didn't want to hear about it, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did, but today I met Donna... oh, I forgot to tell you, I got off early, because they needed the slaves for some sort of ceremonial dinner - some big-wig is coming to meet Apophis. We worked like crazy all morning to create all kinds of delicacies. Anyway... so I was taking the kids to the park, and there I met Donna... and you know what she did? She started talking about Apophis," Marian lowered her voice again, "and how he wasn't a god... and she carried on and on about it! And there were others that I think heard us. I mean, I saw a Jaffa, but I think he was too far away, but you never know about those aliens and their crazy senses. Oh, Mark, what am I to do? What if he heard Donna? I didn't speak out against her there, didn't want to fight in front of the kids, I guess, but what if someone heard? And what if they turn us in?"
Mark suddenly looked worried. "You're right. We can't risk it."
"So you'll talk to Donna and Nick? Tell them we can't have that stuff they're doing in our decent neighborhood?"
He shook his head. "Too late for that. We have turn them in."
"But Mark!" Marian looked horrified. "You know what will happen to them. Their kids - they play with Lisa and William..."
"I will ask for leniency when I report them tomorrow. Marian, it's the only option... and it's not like they didn't know this could happen." He put his arm around her. "I just want you and the kids to be safe. That's what matters."
November 25 1998, New Earth
Hammond and his temporary Council had chosen six more members, and with a new full Council, the base had been moved from Primo to New Earth. New planets had been found for all the other bases that were on populated worlds as well. There would again be ten base worlds, but they would all be on uninhabited planets. They could not risk staying on planets that were already inhabited, both for the sake of the locals, and for the sake of themselves, since many times traders and other travellers would come to populated worlds.
The uninhabited planets were normally that way for a reason, and only half of the worlds they had picked could be farmed, or used to keep animals on. Still, it was enough to sustain them, if barely.
More than four months had passed since they fled Earth, and after several attacks, unfortunate missions, and many moves to different planets, they had lost almost 100 people out of the originally 10000, and their resources were severely depleted.
Food they now had in reasonable amounts, but they were running low on almost everything else; ammunition, medical supplies, toilet paper - anything and everything they normally took for granted.
While they did have the knowledge to produce some things, they did not have the industrial capacity or the tools. They could mine ore and smelt it, but they did not have the tools and equipment to make it into anything more modern than what could have been made in the middle ages, and it would take years before they could move beyond that level, unless they got help.
They could survive - probably - but not win back their world, or in any way fight the Goa'uld, and the longer it took, the less likely it would happen. Rebuilding a modern, technological society, would take many years, and the Goa'uld would probably find them and attack them long before that happened.
They needed allies who could help them, needed them desperately. Technologically advanced allies. The Tollan had made it very clear they would not help. That left the Tok'ra. Jolinar and Selmak's people.
It was time for the Tau’ri to trust the two Tok’ra among them fully, and allow them to leave and look for their people. Hopefully, the small Earth colony could find something to offer, and somehow convince the Tok'ra to ally with them, and help them.
After some discussions, it was decided that SG-1 - now with Jolinar as a member - would be the first to go out and try to find and contact the Tok'ra.
"Do you have any ideas where we might find some of your people?" O'Neill asked.
"I am hoping not all the operatives have been recalled, and that there are still some undercover at various Goa'uld courts," Jolinar said.
"Uh... Goa'uld courts ?" Daniel sounded nervous.
"Yes. However, we will start with those operatives who are pretending to be minor System Lords themselves, and so will not have any direct superior - or at least not any that will be present on their world often. The Tok’ra operative will be able to protect us, as long as we do not behave foolishly. Then, if we do not have success in this manner, we may have to move on to those operatives undercover at small, but relatively, ah, harmless Goa'uld’s courts, Goa’uld with minimal power. Regardless, it will still be dangerous, of course."
"Wonderful," O'Neill groaned.
"If you do as I say, we should be fine," Jolinar added.
O'Neill snorted, too used to Jolinar and her manners by now to get angry. "Why am I not surprised. Okay, let's hear your plan."
There were some Tok'ra operatives, who would probably not have been compromised and recalled due to the spy Cordesh, since he would only really be focusing on those that were in the territory of Cronus, and Cronus's allies.
Unless, of course, Cordesh was selling them out to more than one System Lord, which could certainly be the case. Regardless, Jolinar had to pick which one to visit first. It should be someone she knew well enough, that she could relatively quickly convince them of who she was. With a new host, that was always a problem, and the operative could not afford to risk going through a long process, while they might be watched too. There were some they could not go to, because their overlord was so suspicious, or their situation and position so precarious, that it could not be risked.
That left a small number that could fairly safely be contacted. However, Jolinar decided to first collect some information about the planets they were on. It would not do to go and ask for a Tok'ra, using their Goa'uld name, only to learn said Tok'ra had been compromised - and had fled or otherwise been discovered as being a Tok'ra.
It was slow work, but she found information about many of the operatives. All she dug up was negative - most had fled, a few had been discovered. It was depressing. A few she could not get any information on, and they would have to go to the planet in question, and try to learn about the world's leader, secretly. It went well, except for one time when they were almost captured, and had to hide for most of three days in a swamp, and returned with mosquito bites and leeches.
"This is not working," O'Neill observed, unnecessarily.
"No. I agree. It is time to move along to the operatives who are minor underlings, and who are on worlds that has a Goa'uld ruler. It will be more dangerous, but you need not concern yourself with that. Samantha and I will of course go alone," Jolinar insisted.
"Are you crazy? We're going with you, of course!" O’Neill exclaimed.
"It is kind of you to offer, but going alone will increase our chance of success. It is more important than ever not to arouse suspicion, and in order to do this, I must go as a Goa'uld, with an entourage."
"You think we'll screw it up, isn't that it?" Daniel asked.
"I believe it will be... difficult, for you to, ah, behave correctly..." Jolinar admitted.
O'Neill rolled his eyes, but he was getting used to Jolinar, and did not get angry at her this time, as he often had. "Then you better start showing us what you want us to do, because we're going with you!"