For the Tok'ra, whose name changed to Mirra this workday, governor of the backwater planet of Vritra, everyday life was as meager as naquadah mining. The planet, like a depleted vein, held little interest, and even Vritra itself only deigned to pay nominal attention. A thousand Jaffa formed a garrison—a pitiful semblance of a force, sufficient only to control the meager mines. Mirra, however, had been sent here on a secret mission: to discover where the lord had deployed his main forces. Rotating the Jaffa was the key to obtaining the necessary information, as each one, upon changing locations, might let slip a word about their previous duty station. But that was only the beginning. She was tasked with identifying the weaknesses of the Vritra army so that the High Council could launch a preemptive strike.
A week ago, whispers swept through Vritra: a massive force belonging to one of the lords had been destroyed on a god-forsaken planet. Myrra listened to the fragments of rumors, but details were scarce. Word had come from that planet of an attack, and the Goa'uld, attempting to send reinforcements, had encountered a blocked gate. Whether it was blocked or constantly jammed by some device remained a mystery. Vritra's fury was no exaggeration; due to the planet's remoteness, it was unable to dispatch its ships, forced to rely on dialing the gate's address. Jaffa, whose previous station had been there, whispered that Master Belkor's attacker had used numerous gliders to decimate the troops. Then the connection was lost. The attacker remained nameless, their forces unknown. The glider base, like many ships, had been captured. The Tok'ra, accustomed to a keen analysis of Goa'uld tactics, saw something new in this: something attacking with limited resources. The Goa'uld rarely cared about trophies, especially something as insignificant as gliders. But this operation was built on capture, not simply destruction. Information about Vritra's weakening immediately reached her rival, Indra. Rumor had it that Indra knew the planet where Vritra's main forces were based—it was hers. She immediately attempted to seize it, transferring five thousand of her troops. Only then did Vritra's forces arrive, and the battle began. Whoever destroyed Vritra's forces had succeeded in pitting the two lords against each other, plunging them into a fratricidal war. Indra quickly lost control of the gates, Vritra regained a foothold, but, with the support of the local population, Indra's forces occupied defensive positions on the city walls. A bloody battle ensued. And, as luck would have it, some asuras coveted this planet, and the Tok'ra had to find out why.
Suddenly, a worried Jaffa ran into the throne room.
"Goddess, we've been attacked!"
"Who?" the Tok'ra perked up, once again assuming the governor's appearance.
"I don't know, my goddess, they appeared from the region with the gates and are rapidly breaking through to the settlement.
"Mobilize all forces!" she commanded, realizing that survival depended on their resilience.
Trumpets blared. Myrra, monitoring the scene through her sensors, saw around thirty swift objects rushing toward the settlement. Soon the battle raged right at the pyramid; reports indicated that enemy troops were storming the citadel. The Tok'ra were perplexed—what kind of transport was this? The horses seemed impossibly slow compared to this speed. Her Jaffa, armed with heavy cannons, should have stopped any onslaught at the approaches to the gorge, but nothing worked. Now they had to run and identify the enemy. Myrra had found herself in similar predicaments many times over her millennia, but her master, young Amun, was unaccustomed to this, and a wave of undisguised fear emanated from her.
"Calm down, I'll get us out of here," the Tok'ra said to herself, trying to calm the other's horror.
Having readied her belt device, she braced herself for the worst. The Jaffa had set up ambushes around several corners, but that didn't even slow the attackers. They advanced with a steady, relentless pace, grinding down her troops.
- Who is this?
Wars were usually predictable, but these unknowns had covered five kilometers from the gate in a short time—an unimaginable feat. Preparing to flee through the secret passage, she nevertheless decided to strike a few blows at the unknown enemy, having good reason to believe it might be safe. More than two dozen Jaffa clustered around her, and her gaze kept returning to the secret passage—the path to salvation. Judging by the enemy's advance, this would soon be the only way. Through the wide gates leading to the throne room, the powerful tread of the Jaffa could be seen—the sound of their sabatons was unmistakable. And then the first opponents appeared: skull-shaped helmets, towering shields, and staffs extended forward. Myrrah activated her energy shield.
"Jaffa, Kree!" she ordered, and her warriors fired a volley.
Myrrah's eyes widened as a golden halo of energy enveloped the shields, absorbing the plasma blast. Then the skull warriors fired their volley. A third of her Jaffa instantly fell dead, and the shooting continued. The defenders' numbers dwindled with every heartbeat, and Myrrah decided to retreat. Her resources were no match for those who had mastered the mobile energy shields. The Tok'ra Council had to be alerted. But as she rushed toward the secret passage, she encountered a warrior wearing a skull helmet right at the exit. His staff was different from the standard one: instead of a safety mechanism, it had a blade located next to the firing port. This warrior's appearance in the secret passage was so unexpected that Myrrah and Amon didn't have time to react before they were struck painfully in the chest by the staff, and the blade, passing through the energy field, ended up at Myrrah's throat. The staff's muzzle was now pointed at her face. The blade vibrated, obviously powered by a power source. Examining the blade in minute detail, Myrrah realized it was a naquadah-trinium alloy, honed to molecular sharpness. Any movement, and her flesh wouldn't even feel resistance.
"Take down Kara Kesh!" boomed a voice, distorted by the speakers.
Myrrah obeyed without hesitation. Jaffa in skull masks filled the hall, their gaze fixed on their commander. After a moment's pause, several fighters took up positions near him, while the rest disappeared into other parts of the pyramid. The Tok'ra realized they clearly had a connection, one that didn't require shared orders. She also noticed a ribbon device on the commander's hand, connected to his gauntlet, but the emitter crystal stood out. It was difficult to determine the device's original color, but it was definitely Goa'uld.
The sound of heavy cannon shots could be heard outside, and Myrra suspected it wasn't her powers. The man standing over her with a matok spear tossed two objects in front of her. The first, bound with flexible material, was made of paper. The second, oblong, had a metal tip.
"Tell me the addresses of Vritra's planets, and I will spare you, allowing you to leave," the synthesized voice muttered.
"I can't," Mirra doubted she'd be spared, so she continued to play the governor. "She'll punish me very severely, given recent events."
"Yes, I know. She lost seventy thousand asuras. Fighting them was a pitiful spectacle," the figure muttered. "But I'll give you a chance to survive, Governor. To give you another culprit, you can provide her with the Jaffa who commanded the garrison on the planet where she lost her troops. Our deal won't be revealed; I'll grant you your life and the chance to curry favor by bringing back the true 'traitor.' After all, trying to escape, the fool came to your planet and brought us here. Unluckily, he was loyal to the end, so death at the hands of his deity will be honorable for him."
Mirra considered this. If they let her go, she risked nothing, unless, of course, this was a trick and the Goa'uld changed its mind.
— What guarantees do I have that you will let me go?
"Because no one paid me for your death. My contract stipulates that I must reduce Vritra's troop numbers by any means necessary. I don't kill anyone I'm not paid for—it's very good business practice. The Jaffa can't afford to hire me, but you will in the future. But don't be offended that I won't leave you anything. Mercenaries live not only on their paychecks, but also on their spoils."
Mirra almost laughed. A Goa'uld mercenary with an army of Jaffa—was this some new joke? She could understand the Ashraks, but a high-ranking Goa'uld fighting alongside his subordinates and clearly crafting weapons for them—there were too many inconsistencies. However, she picked up a sheet of paper and began to trace the gate symbols using another object. The ink flowed smoothly—an interesting invention.
"And in exchange for this, I expect brief characteristics of the planets and the number of Jaffa there," he pointed to her tape device.
"I don't know much," Mirra lied.
"Specify the one with the largest garrisons. I know a battle has broken out between Indra and Vritra, on the planet where I destroyed seventy thousand. Apparently, the balance of power there was five thousand of Indra's against ten thousand of the Asuras. In my opinion, the fool is simply wasting her forces in a futile conflict."
"It's none of my business," the Tok'ra replied cautiously.
"I highly doubt it. Could you point out where the naval forces are, please?" The phrase nearly sent her into a panic attack. A standard Goa'uld would humiliate her, but her current opponent, in her current state, was too powerful. And not speak as if she had any power and be polite.
"A Goa'uld mercenary? You don't see that every day. How did you even think that was a good idea?" the Tok'ra asked with genuine interest.
"And how did the Tok'ra decide that coexistence with a host was a good idea?" the warrior retorted, and his words made Myrrah glance involuntarily at the shielded Jaffa standing guard. Few Goa'uld would dare openly discuss the Tok'ra in front of their own Jaffa, especially not so clearly distinguishing their essence from that of the Goa'uld. "One day, I analyzed the situation and realized that being a mercenary is far more profitable than being a minor lord. After all, every second in the galaxy, some bastard thinks attacking another Goa'uld is a great idea. But they are only held back by poor tactical calculations or a lack of resources and Jaffa. Instead of waiting for my master to call me to battle, I decided to seek out those who will pay me and my army. My Jaffa don't care who they fight, and they certainly don't know who is paying. So I guarantee complete anonymity."
The sincerity with which the unknown Goa'uld revealed his plan seemed absurd. This wasn't the way to do things—it was unprofitable, and it would create countless enemies across the galaxy. On the other hand, how he intended to deal with the wrath of the Goa'uld, whose domain he had encroached upon, remained a mystery.
"What if Vritra wants to find you? For revenge?"
"Then she's a fool. I was hired to save her men. And while she's looking for me, her holdings will simply be plundered. Besides, she already knows my strength and is unlikely to devote even a small force to my capture. While she's searching, her forces will weaken further, and she'll fall." The mercenary thought for a moment. "Besides, there are additional bonuses: I don't have to pay a lot of taxes, they pay in naquadah, and the spoils are vast. My army is growing rapidly. Care to join? I see you're not stupid. I can offer you the position of quartermaster."
"I'd prefer to decline." The Tok'ra Council might be interested in learning about the arrival of a new madman in the galaxy, but she didn't want to fail the mission with Vritra and risk having her cover blown.
"It's your business. If you want to hire me, there's a desert planet. Leave the terms of the contract under a stone by the gate's dial." He handed over a note with an address.
"I'm afraid I'm short on naquadah, considering you were paid to fight Vritra's forces," Mirra was still under the impression and simply didn't know how to behave with the leader of the damned mercenary army. She didn't even have time to realize how beyond absurd this all was. "Do you know why Vritra kept its troops there?"
"Oh, I smell a good old-fashioned underhanded scheme. Yeah, I know. How much will you pay?" She thought she saw the bastard smirk under his helmet. Mirra gritted her teeth. She had no money now, and if she had, they would have found it and taken it by now.
"Information. I know you could have destroyed Vritra's gliders, but you captured them. That means you need equipment. Recently, a Goa'uld was promoted from governor to minor lord. He bought a planet where his forces consist of three Alkesh and five thousand Jaffa. Gliders—50-60." Yes, Mirra was willing to share this information in exchange for knowledge of what Vritra was doing on that planet with such an army.
"If you deceive me, I will find you." The playful, albeit synthesized, voice vanished. It wasn't the standard Goa'uld threat that Mirra had heard a million times, though those were quite serious. This one was dry, a statement of fact, without any sadistic undertones. "Considering that I now know you betrayed Vritra."
Mirra just nodded.
"She thought there was some kind of storage facility there, belonging to an alien race, perhaps the Gate Builders. But I sincerely doubt it, because the slaves dug the shaft without a clear plan or understanding. There was no scanning equipment. It seems Vritra thought she could simply order the slaves to dig, and they would find the warehouse. It's absurd, but it's not for me to judge Goa'ulds with brains damaged by the sarcophagus."
As soon as the man revealed his information, everything fell into place. Gate Builder technology had elevated the Goa'uld to the stars. To strengthen her power, Vritra decided to find some kind of Goa'uld repository. However, if the mercenary claimed that all searches were absurd, one could suspect some kind of trick. Either Vritra had received distorted information to reduce the size of her army, or she had deceived herself. Mirra, in turn, had written down the address of the planet belonging to the unfortunate person who would receive this mercenary.
"The deal is done. I gave you the information. When can I leave?"
"We'll finish off the Jaffa stationed here, take all the useful equipment, I'll give you the Jaffa Master, and you can go."
The fact that she wasn't killed immediately gave hope that he would fulfill the deal.
"What are the prices?" Mirra decided to ask anyway.
"Considering I'm still new to the market, I attacked Vritra at a steep discount. But when 70,000 of her asuras died, that increased the cost of my contract. I attacked you for a couple hundred naquadah cubes. Besides, I have exclusive rights to any trophies. As for that minor lord you mentioned, I would have attacked him for 500 naquadah cubes, maybe a little more. After all, he has alkeshis and gliders," the mercenary was frank.
"I'm sure whoever hired you wasn't happy about the spoils clause," Mirra was almost certain Indra had hired him.
"That's his problem. I've done my job."
Such a practical approach, free of arrogance and excessive boasting, was surprising for a Goa'uld. So she continued asking about the mercenary lord. She cared little that asura were being killed. Jaffa weren't worth the effort—they could stab you in the back. Egeria's Jaffa were exemplary, as were the lords who had voluntarily joined the Tok'ra, which spoke volumes about their unreliability. Garshau if Beloth and Jolinar if Malkshur had learned this the hard way. Egeria had tried to instill in them ideas of freedom, but they... betrayed her when Ra fought her. Betrayed the Tok'ra—many of her brothers and sisters had died because of the deceitful Jaffa. So their deaths didn't bother Myrra in the least.
A day later, all the asura were killed. A pair of Jaffa locked her in her quarters and politely guarded her while the pyramid was looted. She saw little of the fighting, but what really stood out was the abnormal accuracy. Any Tok'ra could fire a matok, and it was difficult. Shooting while hanging, from the chest... Even experienced marksmen only hit the target one out of three times at long range. These warriors in skull masks were much more accurate. Every shot was perfectly accurate. Combined with the energy shield, Mirra wasn't surprised that all the asura stationed there had been killed. Plus, she heard the howl of gliders. Considering they didn't have one, perhaps this mercenary lord used needle threaders. The level of madness was comparable: being a mercenary with an army and controlling something that constantly crashes into chappai. Same level. The warrior was honest with her: they had taken absolutely everything of value from the palace—gold, weapons, naquadah. They hadn't touched the common people at all. Any servants who tried to escape were stunned by the warriors with the intars on their bracers. Afterwards, they continued fighting, attacking only the asuras. When asked about such selectivity, the mercenary lord replied:
"I'm a warrior. If you kill weak slaves who can't do anything against you, that's foolish. Everyone will think of you not as a strong warrior, but as a mindless butcher."
The Tok'ra sat in shock for about five minutes. She was awakened only by the scream of her mistress, who managed to reach her.
"Besides, I'm hired for a reason. Every planet serves a purpose. My employers will immediately want to use it once it's freed from a hostile presence. Slaves are a vital resource. If I kill too many slaves, my employer will have to find new ones somewhere, instead of simply bringing in his army and a new governor and getting to work." That explanation made everything much clearer. Mirra saw logic in it. Cold, calculating, but logic nonetheless.
After all the valuables had been collected and most of the Jaffa had simply left, she was led to the gate. She walked past buildings that still bore scorch marks, and there were no defenses—only traces of the fires. All the corpses had been removed, and in some places there was a concentration of ash. Most likely, to ensure complete secrecy, the mercenary lord had taken all the asura's equipment and then burned the corpses. This ensured that no one would learn of his methods. Myrrah had already thought out the story she would tell Vritra, especially once she had the Jaffa Master in command of the planet, whose existence she, as governor, had never even known about. The stunned asura was waiting for her at the gate, and she would have to drag him through the portal. The mercenary lord gave her the ribbon device.
"I fulfill all the contracts I have made. You have been kind to me, so you can go."
She nodded and dialed the address of a neutral planet, dragging the stunned man along with her. She silently wished him luck in his mission to exterminate the armies of Vritra.