Happy SG-1 Gen Fic Day!

[fignewton]

It's SG-1 Gen Fic Day! Celebrate by commenting here with links to new fic, older fic, recs, meta, picspam, vids -- anything, as long as it's gen and related to SG-1.

Shameless self-promotion is cheerfully encouraged, although if you've linked to your own story on a previous Gen Fic Day, we ask you to choose another fic so that others can enjoy some variety. :) The exception is Jaffa-centric stories, today's unofficial theme - even if you've linked to your own Bra'tac or Teal'c or Rak'nor fic in the past, we'd love to see it here again. But that theme is only unofficial, so go ahead and link to other fanworks, too!

Sometime tomorrow, I'll post a round-up for everything linked, both on DW and on LJ.

If you're an Alphabet Soup writer, don't forget to do THREE things: Post your fic on your own journal, comment here with a link to your journal, and e-mail me a copy of your story so I can collate it into the full anthology. If you've already e-mailed me your story, don't forget to post it and link to it, too! Complete guidelines are here.

Have fun, everyone, and enjoy the gen squee!

Comments

Alphabet Soup, T is for Tales

[thothmes]

Alphabet Soup, T is for Tales

This fic is too long to post here in the comments so you may find it:


On my dw journal here

On my lj journal here

A small sample:

Bra'tac could still remember with crystal clarity the first night when he was allowed to follow silently behind his father into the men's tent, to feast with the men and older boys and stay for the storytelling to follow. He knew that he was to keep to his place near the outside walls of the tent, and not to attract notice by wiggling or making noise. If his discipline was not up to the task, chastisement would be administered, and he would not be able to return to the men's tent until his trainers deemed him more ready. He crept quietly to the back of the tent, and sat down among the other boys, the youngest there. He watched the other boys and took his cues from them, and listened to the hum and the rumble of the conversation of the warriors gathered around the brazier in the center of the tent.

V is for Voice

[sid]

There had never been such a thing as a voice of the Jaffa people. The Jaffa peoples were divided and at war with one another throughout their known history. Loyal to this god or that one, and filled with bitter mistrust and scorn for those so misguided as to worship any god which was not one's own.

Even within the ranks of Jaffa loyal to the same god, there was no true voice. The words of a First Prime were listened to with respect or fear, but he spoke only as his lord commanded. In his waning days as First Prime of Apophis, Bra'tac had had questions and misgivings to which he dared not give voice. He saw similar questions sometimes in the eyes of the men he commanded, but their silence was even more certain than his own. He might dream of speaking out; they would never dream of so doing.

As the Free Jaffa gathered and organized and recruited and planned, many individual Jaffa found their voice. They orated and persuaded and argued. They were loud and fierce and proud. A new kind of pride, centered on free choice rather than service to a god. But too many of their voices were silenced in the bloody battles that followed. Their words, their leadership, seemed to pass from memory. In that time of upheaval and rapid change, the tradition of honoring the past was set aside, and fallen heroes were simply fallen.

Now the battles have ended. They have won their victory, and, for the present, peace reigns. It is time to unite – to create a strong nation that will never again be oppressed, that need fear no enemy nor rely on any ally. Once again, voices rise.

Smooth. Insinuating. Smug. Self-aggrandizing.

The loudest voices of the Jaffa Council are as the voices of braying animals, filled with wind and empty of sense.

So now it is Bra'tac's self-appointed mission, with Teal'c and a few trustworthy others at his side, to ensure that the ultimate, lasting voice of the Jaffa people will be the voice of reason. He is confident that he will succeed.

No matter how many skulls he must crack together in the pursuit of reasonableness, Bra'tac shall, in the end, prevail.

http://sid.dreamwidth.org/249367.html or http://sidlj.livejournal.com/251762.html

[magibrain]

Here is A is for Ashrak, Apophis, allegiance, assurance, assassins, ambition, and aim! And here is an excerpt:

The ashrak led.

He walked without recalcitrance or eagerness. Bra'tac followed, ready for battle, but hearing nothing but silence and their own footsteps and breathing. It was a strange, cool affair, and after several corners, Bra'tac said "This is a strange place for a god to hide."

The ashrak surprised him by answering, "Yes."

"The warren of a prey animal."

"Yes."

And in honor of Bra'tac and the Jaffa, which would be but an okay band name, here's an old Teal'c fic: Many Have Said.

E is for Elegance

[beatrice_otter]

Title: E is for Elegance
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2,331
Written For: Bra'tac Alphabet Soup
AN: did you know that the Gateworld encyclopedia spells "kel'no'reem" as "kelnorim"?
Summary: The opposite of crude.

Bra'tac was in his third decade when he noticed it for the first time. Old enough to have experience; young enough to still be under a master's care, responsible only for his own actions and with no greater cares than survival to distract him. Old enough to understand what was happening beyond his own small corner of the battle, and young enough to be idealistic about it.

That delicate state did not last long, and he later came to realize it was as well he had seen it then, for he could not have earlier and would almost certainly not have later. But when he had seen thirty-four summers, he saw it, and it was the beginning of many things no one could have foreseen.

His lord and God Apophis was attacking Sokar's domain, in retaliation for a battle lost and in hopes of gaining control of the planet which was the main source of a certain rare type of fabric that was very valuable. Bra'tac did not know what the fabric was called, for it was too expensive for Jaffa or for slaves, and besides, it was enough that Apophis wanted it.

There were no ha'tak in orbit, though there were many Jaffa on the surface guarding Sokar's planet and the slaves who produced the fabric. Ha'tak were expensive; Jaffa were not. Apophis' Ha'tak arrived unheralded, surprising Sokar's Jaffa. It landed on a mountain near the main city (where Sokar's own ships no doubt landed) and disgorged its horde of Jaffa, Bra'tac among them.

In full armor, staff in hand, Bra'tac jogged towards the city, where he could see Sokar's Jaffa gathering against them. Above his head, death gliders wheeled and fought, but he paid them no mind. Awe-inspiring they might be—and his master had promised that he would learn how to fly them some day—but they were only a distraction in battle.

Bra'tac knew how the battle would go, for it would be like every other he had fought in, every other he had heard of. Apophis had landed his Jaffa. Sokar's Jaffa came out to meet them, and the two great armies would meet on a field. The stronger army would win.

This was all Bra'tac knew of war, and all his Master had ever said of it. Yet, as he ran towards the enemy Jaffa as he had done many times before, it occurred to Bra'tac that perhaps there might be some better way to fight. After all, he knew well that in a battle between individuals, skill and cunning could be more decisive than size and strength—surely, the same held true in battle between armies? He shook his head. A battle was no time for thinking, not if one wished to survive.

After the battle, when his friends had set his leg and bound his wounds—for he had been grievously injured—the thought came to him again. He tried to ignore it, for if there was some better way Apophis would know it and would already use it. The very idea that Apophis might have missed something was blasphemy! Besides, while Bra'tac knew much of skirmishes, he knew little of large battles besides his own role in them. So he could not imagine what better way there might be, and comforted himself that he could not imagine it because it did not exist, and Apophis knew it.

Read the rest on AO3
Read the rest at my journal

[fignewton]

My Alphabet Soup contribution is here: R is for Reassessment

And here is some fresh new fic in honor of the day: On the Outside, Looking In (Season Four)

Q is for Question

[iamnomad]

Hello, and here is (part of) Q is for Question, Quick, Quarry and Qetesh:

Bra'tac took a step forward, eyes fixed on the prisoner.

Alone among the System Lords, Ra did not think much of Jaffa, and filled most of his army with humans. This had its advantages, since it freed him from the need to keep queens who could provide him fresh symbiotes, but it meant that his soldiers weaker, without the strength and endurance that a symbiont could give them.

They were also much easier to question.

Y Is for Years

[paian]

First ~300 words:

Bra'tac strode across the trampled meadow towards the shimmering chappa'ai amidst a rumble of staff weapons butted hard on Chulak's ground in respect. No honor guard, the Jaffa posted here; some of the most able and courageous warriors of this planet, they performed, in deadly earnest, a duty as vital in this strange new era of peace as it had been in the countless generations of war that preceded it. And what better delegation could a returning warrior desire?

No priests. No Priors. Only Jaffa, now, at the gateway to this Jaffa world.

Teal'c stepped through onto the stone platform in a swirl of robes. As ever, Bra'tac's heart soared at the sight of him, pleasure tinged with only a mild dismay at the greying temples, the new lines around mouth and eyes. He knew of Teal'c's entrapment in time on the Tau'ri ship and the price he had paid for saving his comrades and the Asgard's legacy. He had also heard of Teal'c's ordeal on Celestis. Surprisingly, the wear of years and suffering paled in comparison with the ravages wrought on him by the Dar Eshkalon massacre and its aftermath. Imposing and inspiring a figure as ever, he seemed more balanced, more at peace, than Bra'tac had seen him in a great while.

He could not suppress a smile and nod of approval as he moved to meet his onetime protégé at the foot of the platform steps. But he sobered as he got a closer view of Teal'c's expression.

For Teal'c, this was the poignant joy of reunion after a long and gruelling campaign, magnified many times over. What had been for Bra'tac a scant -- albeit momentous -- few weeks had been decades for his old friend. Teal'c had tears in his eyes when they gripped each other's arms.

Never had they met this way without another battle on the near horizon. Never had they met this way in a time of peace. Never, in all their lives, had they known a time of peace.

Full 1240-word fic is here.