Stargate And Then I Was A God (Stargate SI)

I - From The Mouths of Gods

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
One moment, just one moment. I was just at home, on the recliner, laptop burning the skin off my lap, and enjoying a nice cup of tea. Posting on my favorite forum, being my usual affable and perhaps arrogant self entitled perverted maniac self. And then I was somewhere else.

Why was reality so white? White on white and on more white-

"We have to be quick, so listen to me! Listen, dammit!"

A sharp pain whipped across my cheek and I blinked in confusion. That hurt.

Which of course, another slap brought my attention to the man in robes with glasses holding the front of my shirt. Huh. It was Daniel Jackson. Maybe adding rum to the tea was a bad idea-?

"Listen you self entitled-" Heh, I was just thinking of that. "-Shut up! We only have a few minutes, so listen. Your life depends on it."

Okay, that got my attention.

"The Ancients are being their usual helpful selves, but I managed to get them to let me make one request to make things right again. Unfortunately," at this point Jackson looks especially pained upon looking at me, his expression is hard to describe, "that means you. So right now this is the best I can do with what I've got."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, looking around wildly. "Where the hell am I?"

"We're in the space between worlds. Conceptual space, so to speak," said the fictional character, who was now frowning at me. He leveled a glare at me. "I'm not fictional."

"Says doctor Daniel Jackson," was my reply, I was less than impressed. Maybe the rum was too much. Note to self, never put more than two shots of high proof rum into black tea. It does things to me.

"This isn't a hallucination," insisted the apparition of the fictional character, ah there goes that pained expression of frustration. He throws up his hands and visibly seems to calm down, "Look. I'm putting you in the worst position possible. You're going to be Ra's best friend and I need you to save the entire galaxy while being a megalomaniac parasite pretending to be a god who just happens to be you."

...Okay, what the hell did he just say?

"I said-!" Says the fictional- "I'm not fictional-"

White enveloped me and somehow I knew time was up. This was real.

That revelation was too late.

-

Wakefulness came to me slowly, like a bad hangover.

...Oh yeah. The rum in my tea.

The first conscious thought that came to mind after that revelation was whether or not it was better to go to sleep or try to stay awake. My decision was to stay awake, on the edge of falling back into slumber. I was content to be surrounded by warmth and the smothering blanket around my body.

I would fall asleep within a few minutes anyway. My sight was poor and I was not inclined to open my eyes quite yet.

On occasion, I would hear a voice, cold and a hard, murmuring above me. I would ignore it for the few moments I was still conscious in favor of returning to my sleep.

Each of my waking moments grew longer and longer, each time I would awaken, I would hear more clearly, my eyesight sharpen ever so slightly. My senses grew and soon I began to feel most peculiar.

Then alarmed as I realized I could not move.

I tried to move my arms, to no avail. I would try to move my legs, again to no result. All I could move, was my body, but that too was odd. I would give up eventually, tiring myself with the exertions and fall asleep.

My first true waking moment, was one of shock and terror.

Suddenly something cold was wrapped around me and my eyes snapped open. I tried to shout, but only a tiny little squeal came from my mouth. Only squeaks came, for I no longer had lips. Instead my mouth was a little more than two pincer-like mandibles. I thrashed this way and that, but I had no arms or legs, for my body was that of a serpent.

The cold that permeated my body however, was a small child-like hand. It was pale and white, there were only four webbed digits wound around me as I looked at the owner of the fleshy prison gripping me.

Resembling a roswell gray, the Asgard peered down upon me in interest as I squeaked at it again. I blinked and squealed louder as I began looking around frantically, thrashing harder than ever as I sought to escape it's grasp. Terrible implications began to dawn upon me, more so when I saw familiar outlines nearby, situated upon little stone tables lining the walls. One of the tables nearest to me held a body I recognized on sight. I would have moaned in horror if I could.

My body, what was left of it, was strapped down onto the examination table. Naked and now very much removed of most of it's internal organs, it's skin was a sickly gray pallor and the many little devices both within it and upon it were beyond me.

Daniel Jackson was right. The Powers That Be were dicks.

But what wasn't beyond me was that I was realizing just what happened.

"You have adapted well to the transference," murmured the Asgard softly, humming in approval as he held me closer. I recoiled, but went still when his hands tightened around my body.

"It is a pity, you were a decent enough success. But returning you to your home is impossible now," it said with indifference. "Being an immature goa'uld will suffice to your needs. Destroying even a minor success would be troublesome. So be grateful that I've taken the time to give you a new body."

The asgard dropped me back into the water and my baser instincts took over as soon as my scales were in contact with the water once more.

I swam down to the deepest corner of the tank and curled up, trembling. Thoughts whirled around my mind. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be free of this nightmare. This terrible terrible reality. This was all fictional. This was just a dream.

It had to be.

Sleep after that realization became much harder to attain.

Barely a minute later after I fell asleep, I found myself bathed in light with the sounds of chimes ringing. Suddenly the water was warmer and there were bodies all around me. Feeling myself uncurling in uncertainty, I floated in stupefied stillness as goa'uld symbiotes swam around me.

In an attempt to process this, I did the only thing I could hope to do without suffering a nervous breakdown. I curled up at the bottom of the pool and went to sleep.

All I could hear as I fell asleep, was Daniel Jackson's voice.

"I'm sorry."

It did not reassure me at all.

-

Flashes of memory would play pretend as dreams. The rich and violent history of the goa'uld would file past my mind, the exploits and the dark secrets of the goa'uld lay before me in vague dreams and terrible hints of more to come. Knowledge born of thousands of generations of Goa'uld before me came to mind in flashes of insight, the genetic history of an entire race laid bare in all it's glory. Technology slowly refined over thousands of years of insight and philosophies, battles and thoughts of hundreds of goa'uld, their victories and their failures, all mine to read and learn from.

They were not my memories. So many memories were mine now, and they were jarring and confusing. The memories had many emotions, chief amongst them the sense of superiority. The weight of so much thought and knowledge was incredible, but my own memories were slipping away, replaced by countless other identities.

It was a struggle to maintain myself. I could do nothing, but hope I would remain myself. And nestle a budding hatred for the man who put me in this situation.

I would wake, swimming leisurely and sedately as I tried to come to terms with my situation. The other symbiotes would ignore me, which suited me just fine. It gave me time to think, to attempt to find a compromise to the terrible state I found myself in. I was no longer human. I was a snake, a parasitic creature made of nerves and sinew, my mind was perhaps my own, but my own body would now influence me with it's own genetic memories that would assault my psyche every day, every moment.

I could do little now, but curse Daniel Jackson's name again and again.

For how long I spent in this pond of water, I did not know. But plans came unbidden to my mind, thoughts of grandiose schemes, words of a demagogue and the charisma of a god made me wonder...what if I could take this chance?

I could be worshipped! I could become a power to be reckoned with! Untold numbers of warriors to serve my very will, untold numbers of men and women who would do my bidding. Powers never thought possible at my very fingertips!

Those thoughts would quickly die when I realize that I did not have fingertips. Let alone any human-like fingers and the other parts of my former self used to have.

So I brooded and planned, slept and swam. For what seemed like an eternity of mindless routine, something finally happened.

A hand reached down and grabbed me. It was rough and I struggled out of instinctive fear. My gills would flap as I breathed in the air outside of the water, my eyes would adjust to the sunlight. I slowly cease my struggles as my sight became clearer.

Below me was a great pool, the slithering and swimming goa'uld frolicking inside. Around it were great walls and a single set of steps leading into the warm waters. I was in the hands of an old priest, his forehead clean of marks of allegience. I was in a great chamber, made of stone and metal.

But I was not alone.

Humans, men and women of all ages, tanned and naked, stood fearlessly before me in lines. Jaffa, armored warriors wielding tall and hard staves stood at attention, their eyes upon me. I look further and I see a young man with two beautiful women, one smiling and one expressionless, standing at his sides, sitting on thrones. Boyish handsomeness, cold expression, and calculating eyes...the symbol of a stylized eye around his neck.

This could only be Ra. And the beautiful woman, beautiful sun-colored hair, buxom chest, and cold eyes...Marasis, his Queen.

[Father(Supreme{Emperor/Queen} System Lord)Mother]

...What was that just now?

A naked young man walked up to the Jaffa Priest holding me. He was handsome and powerful. The strongest and the best of his kind. I look at him and relaxed as he knelt before me, his face gazing lovingly towards me.

"I am your avatar," said the young man earnestly. "I am your vessel. Please, take my body as your own. An offering to the Child of the Gods. Take me, please!"

His smile was one of a fanatic and his eyes glowed with the fervor of one. He opened his mouth and leaned forward until I could see the back of his throat. Despite my reservations, I reacted.

Instincts overrode my thoughts at this point. As the hands around me loosened just slightly, I threw myself into his mouth. My jaws cut through the back of his throat easily, forcing my long thin body through the flesh, tissue, cartilage, and the fat; soon I found myself intertwined around his spinal cord, my head instinctively knowing where to bite.

I stumbled as a rush of familiar and foreign sensations rushed over me. I opened my mouth and took a deep breath. My tongue licked my chapped lips and I blinked. I realized that I now had hands. I had feet. I had hair and a face.

I had a body now. One younger and better than my previous one.

One that had been someone else's, I reminded myself with a flicker of guilt. The guilt was crushed ruthlessly. I paid it no mind as Ra [Father(Supreme{Emperor/Master}System Lord)Creator] stood and bid me to come to him.

A pair of young women in silken cloaks led me away from the pool, towards the stone path to the thrones. I stood before Ra and his queens, swaying from the sensation of the air upon my skin, the touch of hands on my flesh. My eyes refocused upon the [Father/Creator] and I felt my knees kneel automatically in submission.

"Arise my child and embrace the glory that is your birthright. Know that I, Ra, and the eternal sovereign of the Goa'uld and that you have been made to serve me," said Ra, his eyes glowing softly in the torchlight and his voice booming. "I name you Iah, God of the Moon."

I stood, eyes bright and my chest rising in pride. A man stepped forwards; he was clad in the armor of the Jaffa, but it was ornately decorated. He bore a golden symbol of Ra's eye upon his forehead.

"Behold, that I shall set you amongst the greatest of my Jaffa, so that you may benefit from their wisdom and experience," Ra intoned. "Yet your purpose is unique. While my Jaffa carry forth my will, you have but one charge entrusted to you."

"What is it, my [Father/Creator]?" I asked, softly.

"You will be chief amongst of my great Magicians," boomed the goa'uld's voice. "You will become my most trusted and loyal. I shall give you a test today, to prove your genius. Three days and three nights, you will take my First Prime's staff weapon and make it fit for a god."

Automatically, thoughts began to gush forth. Details and designs of the Ma'tok Staff Weapon unfolded in my mind, how it first conceived, how it worked. But my feeble mind stood firm and I asked myself, how could it be improved?

Vaguely, I was dimly aware of being moved. A Jaffa was leading me by the arm, gently, while I maintained my train of thought. Already, my hands were running down the length of the staff as I compiled a list of requests.

Three days and three nights with no preparation. I needed something, an improvement and perhaps something simple enough to achieve.

But it needed to impress him. Ra.

Normally, I would have found my current predictament uncharacteristic of me, but the leader of the Goa'uld Empire just told me to make this weapon fit for a god. I had little knowledge on improving on the technology...but ideas were there.

Hands, using the knowledge of countless craftsmen and smiths before me, took apart the weapon with practiced ease. The particle accelerator was laid bare and open. The rear energy ducts disassembled. The primitive firing mechanism taken off. The tiny vial of liquid naquadah resting in my palm.

So many ideas. So little time.

A sort of haze settled over me, clouding my senses and my mind as I focused on the task at hand, ignoring all else. I got to work, and I didn't know why.

-

For two days and a night, I pondered on what to do. For a day, I waited for the materials I requested to come. For a day and two nights, I tinkered and improved upon what I was given. A better trigger, a sling and grip, a more efficient accelerator and capacitor. The result was larger and it was perhaps unwieldy. I ate little, drinking only water and eating a little porridge when forced to.

I emerged from the room, which I realized was a workshop, dazed and perhaps a little confused about my sudden turn of mindset. This thought was quickly squashed when I found myself face to face with Ra once more.

It was morning, I realized. The twitter of birds and rising sun's rays was a welcome change to the monotone of my endless musing and work.

Where was I? How long has it been since I came to be here? My hands seem unfamiliar. Oh, right, I was in someone else's body. Hmm. Why was I so-?

"Have you completed the task I have given you, Iah?" Asked Ra, cutting off my new train of thought.

I nodded and tried to hold the newly improved staff weapon out to him, but it was too heavy and though my host's arms were strong, they were unused to the weight. Ra shook his head and motioned for me to look to the direction he was pointing at.

This was a courtyard, I realized, my awareness sharpening as I found myself awake. Adrenaline flooded my veins as I realized why.

Standing dejectedly were over two dozen naked servants of all ages. All were looking down at their feet, fear and worry all over their faces. These were the disobedient, the unruly, the ones that did not pass expectations. The ones that displeased Ra in some form, real or imaginary.

A dawning horror was beginning to descend upon me. Surely...god, he wasn't going to-?

"Show me what you have created," Ra said, his voice lazy and commanding.

I hesitated. I...I couldn't just kill all these people, could I? He wasn't going to-?

"Show me. Now!" Barked Ra, eyes flashing.

My hands and my arms moved, beyond my control, as I did as Ra ordered unwillingly. The bulbous head of the staff weapon opened with a loud zap and crackle of orange lightning. The servants flinched.

No. No, don't! They're just people. Just innocent-

My hand twitched. Against my will, it grew firm.

No!

The trigger depressed and the weapon in my hands launched a bolt of energy.

NO!

To my despair and regret, it flew true. A young man, in his teens, cried out as it impacted his chest. He flew back and crumpled to the ground, dead. I stared in horror as my hands and arms moved.

The trigger depressed again, and again I railed against my traitorous arms and hands. A burst of three bolts sailed into the ranks of servants. One bolt struck the wall, destabilizing and releasing a burst of destructive energy that cratered the thick structure. The other two did not miss and felled two more innocents.

I couldn't even sob, as my face refused to cry. I could only stare stonily as my thumb switched the weapon to an alternate mode. My feet and legs were adjusting and I knew why.

I rallied again and struggled against my body, watching in muted horror as over a dozen were cut down by the stream of plasma bolts, their bodies smoking and the flesh around their fatal wounds cooked to a crisp darkness.

I resigned myself to end this as quickly as possible, cutting down all but one with precise shots. They all died quickly.

The last one. A young man. A boy really. He stared at me, his eyes dead and glazed. He was resigned to his fate. He stared at me and I stared at him. The boy closed his eyes and waited.

My thumb depressed on the trigger and a soft whine came from the staff in my hands. Static gathered around the exposed barrel of the staff weapon. A moment later, the trigger was released.

The bolt that the weapon fired was bright. The bolt that struck the young man was a blow to my already bleeding heart. The explosion obscured my sight. Just as well, I looked away.

Nothing would be left after that.

I turned and found Ra standing, his face lit in excitement and joy. Despite the amoral actions I had just taken, warmth and happiness flooded me.

I was worried now, but the warmth I felt was overwhelming.

Ra was happy and now, so was I.

Why? Why was I happy? I just killed...murdered so many innocent people. On the orders of my [Father(Supreme{Emperor/Master}System Lord)Creator]'s whim.

"Well done, Iah," said Ra, smiling at me. He bade me come forward, which I did [eagerly]. I knelt and placed the modified staff weapon before him in reverence.

I don't revere him. I don't! Really, I don't!

"You have done as I have asked," said Ra, his eyes dancing in joy. He too knelt, and I felt a rush or pride. "For this, I reward you. You shall have twenty units of naquadah to work with each year and a workshop to create works as I desire. Personal slaves as you see fit. And my eternal gratitude."

He placed his hands on my cheeks, a thumb deftly wiping my lips. The Goa'uld smiled again, laughing. "You have exceeded my expectations, Iah. You shall be the herald of great things."

Through the foreign and artificial happiness, I felt something inside me wither and die.

-

I stood in my new workshop, staring stonily at Daniel Jackson from my bed of silk and cushions. The apparition did not look me in the eye.

"I hate you," I spat. Eyes flashing. "You put me here. You are responsible for this."

The ascended archaeologist nodded, eyes cast downwards. "I am. I...the Ancients...I...I'm sorry-"

"Your apologies won't bring those people back," I hissed, stepping forwards, my teeth bared. He didn't move, merely curl more into himself.

"I know..." Murmured Jackson, his voiced tight. "I know."

I refused to look at him, until he disappeared, leaving no presence. I knew, deep inside, that he was perhaps still here. But I didn't care. I drowned myself in spirits and slept, hoping I would wake up and be home.

A pipe dream if there was ever one. Stay out of my head, Jackson. Ascended or not, I will hurt you if I can.

'...'

Dammit.

-----


Author's Note: As you can see, I'm crossposting this from over SB, with minor updates and changes from the original. Please enjoy!
 
II - Humble Beginnings

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
Diary Excerpt 1: I have made a diary. Out of vellum and bindings. The ink is made from local saplings, mixed with glue and wine. A fountain pen, made of wood and a sliver of refined naquadah.

In this diary, I write down my thoughts. My secrets.

I doubt anyone will be able to translate it, even if they managed to steal it. It isn't like the goa'uld has a base in order to try and translate pig latin.

It has been years since I've written anything. The use of computers and electronic devices has spoiled me, but I admit there is some satisfaction to be gained for physically imprinting these words.

It helps keep me...me. Its hard to differentiate between my memories and that of the goa'uld. Even the memory of my murder of three dozen men, women, and children at the behest of Ra not a day ago faded far more quickly than I knew was likely. It is, I think, because of the genetic memories.

The goa'uld have killed millions, almost billions and trillions of innocent lives over the entire course of their history. Knowing this, having felt and seen those deplorable actions with my own eyes in my dreams, what were a few lives?

Even as I write this, I feel hollow and tired. The genetic memories plague me even now. Entire worlds razed, entire civilizations destroyed and enslaved. The cultures and knowledge they possessed subsumed or burned.

Daniel Jackson, the one who brought me here. He is an ascended being. But from what I can tell, I am in the past. Before anything has happened. What did he refer to, that great cataclysm which killed those he loved. Was it something that he was responsible for?

Maybe I should not blame him so much. How desperate he must have been, to call on the Ascended Ancients for help, and how much guilt must he feel for putting me in this situation?

My hate for him, however unfortunate his situation, does not fade. I was still forced to kill those people. Their blood stains not just mine, but his as well. Because of his actions, because of him, I am not human anymore. Worse, my body is that of a parasite, whose genetic memories assault my sanity each passing moment.


One day, I will punch him in the face. And he will take it, because he well and truly does deserve it, and more.


-

One week since my...beginning, my new life here in this universe. Since I've started. I've done nothing but work endlessly to forget the blood I've spilt.

Despite the grisly means of testing my work, the process of researching and developing new technologies and innovations is interesting enough to keep my mind occupied.

For all it's faults, Goa'uld technology is quite amazing. They have rudimentary gravity manipulation, functional plasma weaponry, nano-fabrication on an industrial scale. But it's never used properly. So much potential still untapped. Inefficient. And they just leave it there, stagnant.

It isn't really their fault, not entirely, of course. Their very culture is counterproductive, it makes them go for the grandiose option, one with far required much of their technology to be dumbed down in order for it to work. Ra's enforcement of the lack innovation of technology that kept him in power didn't help. Then, I suppose, it was engineered to be that way.

The less technological advanced his many rivals are, he alone retained powerful advantages.

But even against the grain of over a thousand years, the many House Lords would experiment in secret. Sooner or later, they would match parity, if only almost or a little. Sooner or later, his technological advantages will erode away and Ra would lose the power over the other Goa'uld.

Which is why he apparently created me. Or rather Iah. I am merely the passenger, after a fashion.

In not so many words, Ra wanted Iah to innovate for him. Iah was his secret weapon. One who dared to imagine against goa'uld nature with goa'uld memories, all to find new ways of killing.

And under the geas of his order, I devised new ways of killing. But it was my prerogative to allow just how much was devised and when to release it.

I had to be careful, however.

Whatever innovations and technologies I developed for Ra would eventually trickle down to the other Goa'uld in some fashion or another. Sooner or later, they too will possess it. And that makes them all the stronger.

To accomplish all this, however, I had my workshop.

Pleased with my...success, Ra granted me access to a large workshop that also doubled as my home in his palace on his homeworld; aptly named 'Ah'Ra', literally translating into 'I, Ra'.

The workshop was a cavern in of itself. A pair of long stone tables held many instruments of my given profession. Smelting equipment and measuring rods, several small fabricators for processing and refining naquadah into usable components, and a large table holding a stylized set of magnifying mirrors and magnetic screwdrivers.

Also occupying this room was a large holoprojector installed into a pedestal, sitting next to the computer.

The computer itself took up an entire wall, an entire bank of consoles and manipulators that I could use to design my tools and projects.

In the middle was a large platform, where a skeletal frame sat. An idea, still being formed. Sitting next to it was a partially disassembled death glider engine. Gravitic drives, and despite their solid grasp on it's physics, it couldn't go faster than mach 3.

Pushed into a corner was a bed, hewn from stone and wood, filled with silk sheets and a makeshift mattress of feathers.

All in all, a room meant for a scientist and a craftman. An active human imagination combined with the memories of an entire race's technological progress was just asking for trouble.

Which meant that I should have no trouble making something out of all this gold-covered technology the Goa'uld have.

Should, being the word here. Just because I have an active imagination doesn't mean I actually understand what I'm doing. After all, all I have are memories. And most of them are all about death and destruction.

And maniacal laughing.

But who's counting that?

I'm sitting down on a wooden stool, laminated by exotic oils and perfumes. It's smooth to the touch and I idly toy with a capsule of liquid naquadah.

It was getting harder. Was I Iah? Or was Iah me? Was there even a difference? Was it me, or was it Iah, who killed all those people? Those 'test subjects'?

I didn't want to get into that, so it was time to busy myself. I hurried to the exposed glider engine and bent down to take a closer look, ignoring the question in the back of my mind.

I didn't have an answer to it. And I didn't want to know.

After all, what if it was me who murdered them all after all?
 
III - Humble Beginnings

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
Diary Entry: Today I tried to speak to my host. Just using that word makes me feel terrible, it leaves a terrible taste in my...well, his mouth.

Nevertheless, my attempt to speak to my host faired fairly terribly, all things considered.

He is fanatic. Pure and simple. And unfortunately, my attempts to dissuade him of his belief that I was not in fact a god did little but reinforce the idea that I was attempting to test him in his resolve. After three days of trying to get through to him, I reluctantly return to my studies in goa'uld technology.

He had gone a little strange though. He has taken to muttering to himself and his maddened whispers distract me terribly. Possibly, his self exile of his own senses has resulted in acute sensory deprivation. I have tried to return control to his body, but he rejects it violently, injuring himself until I retake control.

He is literally driving himself mad and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

I have resolved to ignore my nameless host, however much pity I feel for him. Raised from birth, indoctrinated in the belief that you were made to be nothing more than a host for a god.

I shudder at the thought and resolve to end this practice however I can...


-

I met Ra's immediate family today. The success here varied. I suppose it was because of my robes. They were very basic, just plain silk with very little embroidery. But one can only hope it was my fashion sense that offended Ra's brother so.

Apophis appeared to have had taken an immediate disliking for me. Drawing what little knowledge I remember on him, the man hated Ra and me being essentially the Supreme's lapdog it was no wonder he hated me on principle alone.

His queen, Amaunet, was a little nicer. She had the host of a young woman, mid twenties, and very supermodel look in her appearance. As it turns out, she and I had a few things in common, such as our liking for cats. Amaunet dotes on several cats, domesticated tigers as she said. When I admitted to always wanting a kitten to raise on my own, Amaunet took me into her arms and hugged me.

Much to the amusement of Ra, Amaunet declared that she would find the perfect feline for me to take as my own, lamenting the lack of appreciation of the creatures amongst the Goa'uld.

Apophis left shortly after, taking his Queen and his entourage with him. He shot me a filthy glare that promised vengeance while Amaunet looked rather pleased with herself.

"Iah," said Ra, motioning me over to him. Standing next to him was a bald young man with the beginnings of a beard, wearing golden Jaffa armor.

I joined Ra and glanced at the man next to him.

"Iah, this is Heru'ur, my son," said Ra, smiling pleasantly.

The two of us glanced at each other. I gave him a quick once over. Upon closer inspection, Heru'ur was not bald, he still has a slight fuzz over his scalp, nor did he wear the gold earrings as he did after Ra's death. The thought of that man's....no, that thing's death sent a mixed jolt of unease and elation through me.

I glanced at Ra. He had chosen to go topless this time, wearing only golden jewlery were likely doubled as emergency shield emitters and silk loincloth. Ra smiled at me, preferring to watch how my interaction with Heru'ur would unfold.

"So...you are father's newest, ah, acquisition. I hear you impressed him very much only a few days after being gifted with a host," murmured Heru'ur softly, eyes flickering to his father standing only a few feet away. "You are his new scientist, yes?"

I nodded mutely, if a bit shyly. I also did not wish to remember that day that Heru'ur mentioned. Though I no longer felt ill at the memory, the lack of it still left something distasteful in the back of my throat.

"What modesty!" Heru'ur was saying, his eyes creasing slightly at my lack of response. "But surely you must have some grand projects you are working on? Why don't you give...us, a quick tour?"

Again, I glance at Ra and nods minutely. It took only a few minutes before we reached my workshop and immediately Heru'ur and Ra noticed the changes I have made to it's basic security system.

Firstly, a forcefield that was almost invisible to the eye. It was situated just past the doorway and one would have run headlong into it, though with what results no one but I knew.

"What manner of forcefield was that?" Asked Heru'ur, curiously.

"A simple defensive kind. There are no other properties to it, I haven't the time to add anything," I reply airily.

The first immediate impression one would get of the workshop was that I was rather untidy. However, considering the state of my previously pristine and spartan workplace, the term would upgrade straight up to chaotic. I took apart the one holographic projector in one of my bouts of insomnia and used my inherited knowledge of Goa'uld Technology regarding it's kind to replicate it. I now had just shy of a dozen of the things turned on.

Vellum and data tablets were strewn everywhere.

Two workstations were dedicated entirely to containing the ever growing mountains of the stuff. Other projects were stranded in their own islands of chaos. Those in particular brought great interest of Ra and his son.

"What is this?" Ra asked, examining a skirt-like base of golden plates. It's midsection was sitting nearby, partially dismantled. Next to it was a three fingered manipulator arm and a drastically shortened staff weapon.

"A failed design. Third in the series of travel machines I was going to create for symbiotes to control. Decided the process would be too severely traumatizing for the symbiotes to handle and that completing this project would use up too many resources."

Of course, I had other reasons why I decided to stop the project on that one. No need to create something worse than the Goa'uld and set all of space and time on fire. No, that would piss of the Ancients.

'Yes. It would.'

Shut up Daniel. Get out of my head.

Heru'ur had arrived at on of my partially completed projects. "This looks promising."

I nodded, "Ah, yes. The Needle Threader."

I had taken Ra's old concept of the gate-capable fighter and redesigned it. Taking a standard Deathglider, I peeled away the wings and formed a more needle-like appearance. It's hull formed a pointy thin dagger-shape, with the canopy sitting near the rear. Two stubby wings holding staff cannons were tapered just shy of the rear.

"This is the new Needle Threader?" Ra's voice was soft, though it expressed deep interest. "It does look promising."

"However, it is unfinished and untried," I interjected swiftly. "It will take time for me build it's exact specifications and more to ensure it is indeed capable of traveling through the Chappa'ai."

I directed their attention to something a little more attainable. In this case, a skiff that I had built and was the most completed of my projects.

"This is the cargo skiff I have designed for the use of Goa'uld and Jaffa alike," I said, tapping the projector. It showed the completed version of the skeletal frame sitting on the platform, with all the plates in place and the steering vanes attached. "An open deck that can hold two hundred units of naquadah ore or sixteen Jaffa. The control pedestal is very easy to use."

"How fast can this skiff fly?" Demanded Heru'ur.

I listed a number in Goa'uld, equivalent to a hundred kilometers an hour. Ra smiled widely, "Combat applications?"

"Poor," I spoke up immediately. "The skiff is unarmored; a single staff weapon can disable it with a hit to a steering vane. The vanes on the side near the rear provide very limited maneuverability in high speeds. It is a vessel best used as a laborer's craft."

Ra frowned, but nodded. Heru'ur however remained unconvinced, though he did not say anything.

We went over a few other projects, some of which were clearly failures. Both Goa'uld were, however, very interested in my plans for a scaled up staff cannon capable of striking ships in orbit. I can see why such a thing would hold enormous value to them.

Aside from that, I think today went rather well.
 
IV - Choosing the Lo'tar

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
Diary Entry: My lord and master isn't happy with me.

Oh, it isn't because he's displeased with any of my projects, in fact he is rather delighted by the variety I have prominently displayed within my workshop.

No, it's rather because my room is awe inspiringly messy. Datapads and notes were strewn everywhere, mountains of the stuff just sitting in the corner. Partially finished or dismantled machinery just sitting every which way. The sight of the workshop, Ra had said, made his eyes water.

He ordered me to get a human assistant to keep the place in order.

This leaves me with extremely mixed feelings. The goa'uld personality, which I've identified to essentially be Iah, which I will not refer to as myself, likes the idea of this. Having direct power over another living being does make oneself rather confident. It is also a privilege afforded by those of high positions of power.

System Lords prominently had one or more lo'tar as confidences and emergency hosts. Ra himself had well over a dozen that he kept close to him. Certain Underlords that had the favor of their patron also bound a human to themselves.

More often than not, the Goa'uld would tell them things that most humans and Jaffa would never know about. They would tell them of their errors, defeats, and all the little worries they had. Lo'tar were the closest thing the Goa'uld had that could be called a friend.

Lo'tar were also used as bedmates and sometimes trained as assassins or bodyguards in some cases.

For me, however, I was to find and make a human being my lo'tar so they could keep my workshop clean and in order. Less of an assistant and more of a nanny.

Personally, however, my modern views clashed with the goa'uld personality. It galled me to essentially own another human being. But needs must. Still, I remain uncomfortable with this no matter how casual this seems.


-

Humans, slaves as one can tell with their clothes and lack of footwear, by the dozens lined up against the wall. A few jaffa stood opposite of them, daring them to make a run for it or do anything to annoy me. Most of them wore almost nothing, sometimes only a loincloth and only a few women in the group wore anything around their chests to preserve their dignity.

Many of these people were teenagers, some as young as even four or five.

Most trembled and looked as though they were frightened out of their wits. I don't blame them, they believed I was a god, and knowing the palace servants, it was likely that news of Ra's angry demand that I take on a lo'tar spread like a wildfire.

And consider the first thing I did less than a handful of days after my conception...Well, news of that was enough to have servant girls shaking terribly at the mere sight of me.

Not all were so submissive, however.

One young man, a boy really, was very vocal in his displeasure of being corralled like some dumb animal. He kicking and shouting as a pair of Jaffa forced him into the line.

"Let go of me you-" Part of me is frankly dumbfounded at the amount of swearing the kid was capable of, but it was clear that the Jaffa were not pleased with this act of defiance.

Faster than I could open my mouth to issue an order to stop him, the jaffa guard struck the boy across the face. Before he could raise his fist again, I was grabbing him by the throat and raising him into the air.

"Strike another child in front of me and I shall have your heart!" I hissed. Cartilage cracked audibly as the Jaffa's eyes looked down back into mine, twitching wildly with terror as he pawed frantically at my iron grip. With almost no effort, I threw him aside.

The jaffa sucked in great breaths of air as he fell onto the hard marble floor, clutching at his throat.

As I turned back to the slaves, I saw that their expressions mirrored that of the Jaffa whose throat I nearly crushed.

Then I noticed that every single one of them were refusing to meet my eyes...save for one.

The boy stands defiantly before me, fire in his eyes and they and mine meet.

Oh...that wasn't fire. Those were my eyes reflected in his.

I stared at him and he stared at me, his expression defiant. We maintained our staring contest for several seconds more, until the boy's eyes began to tear up. Just as he was about to blink, someone imposed themselves between us.

I blinked in surprise as the boy cried out. It was a young woman, very nearly blossoming into one of adulthood. She was beautiful in a way few could naturally attain, with smooth unmarked skin and dark curls that framed her face into one of breathtaking beauty.

She was also quietly blocking the boy away from my sight, as though protecting him from me. Not that the kid seemed to like.

Her eyes were steely and they too were defiant, but different. They were one of resignation.

"Boy," my voice boomed softly. My voice seemed to send ripples down the the line of slaves as they cringed away from the two in front of me. The child's head slid out from behind his protector and stared up at me, as though daring me in an unspoken challenge.

The corners of my lips twitched upwards in amusement. "Do you have a name?"

His eyes narrowed at me. "Nakhti."

"Do not take him, my god Iah," said the young woman, pushing him back behind her. "Take me instead!"

I turn to stare at this fine specimen of female flesh and almost blushed at her flushed face and her heaving bosom. She was not begging me to take her as my lo'tar, instead she was protecting him from me.

My eyes narrow slightly as I took in her lovely features. My goa'uld side roared in acceptance, reminding me that I was a Goa'uld and that a willing woman was an easier take than one rebellious one; though not as fun to break. I pushed aside the thoughts and focused on her eyes.

Those eyes were still of resignation. She was resigned to being a slave to the Goa'uld. But she risked her life for this boy. What value was he to her?

"Boy. You have spirit and courage, or just plain luck and stupidity," I said, smiling widely at the him behind the woman. "I offer you a position as my lo'tar. Do you accept?"

"Only if you make Nishka your Queen," demanded Nakhti.

The absurdity of this boy! I couldn't help but laugh. Nishka was the young woman then. I glanced at her and she seemed shellshocked by Nakhti's blatant disregard for social ranks.

Her eyes flickered to mine, horror in them. I looked away, quickly.

"No," I said, struggling and succeeding in mastering my composure. "I will take her on as a servant. Are we agreed, Nakhti?"

"Deal!" He said, nodding, looking pleased with himself.

I ignored the murmurs of the people around us in favor of turning on my heel and walking away, glancing back only long enough to make sure that my two new acquisitions were following. Silently, I wondered, what I had got myself into.
 
Seshat I

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
Diary Entry: So yes. Two lo'tar. Loyal human slaves in other words. Well, in this case one rebellious child and a world weary lady that may or may not be his sister. I need to get them to tell me their story.

On the other hand, my lord and master has taken the liberty of foisting yet another caretaker upon me. Former assistant archivist Seshat has been assigned as my personal scribe. A glorified secretary in other words. She hasn't arrived yet, so I think it best I get my new servants something better than rags to wear.

Best if I put on a good impression yes?


-

Seshat checked the time again. Its been almost half an hour since she arrived and Iah still wasn't here yet. She had heard he had taken on a pair of lo'tar to serve him today, but other than that there was little information on this elusive new variable.

She had been one of the many mere trusted Goa'uld on Ah'Ra, seeking to attain a position within Ra's court. Unlike the rest of them, however, she was one who sought something more than worshipping the supreme god.

Seshat sought the downfall of the feudal society that were the System Lords, just as any ardent Tok'ra would.

But even though she toiled tirelessly in Ra's service, she made little headway in his Court. That changed when she was appointed to be assistant to the head archivist of the Court's records. At first, she thought this was her great breakthrough, the chance to send the High Council information on Ra's coveted worlds and the locations of his secret treasury worlds. The Council thought this as well and urged her to accept the position.

After a century of endless record-keeping and data-filing Seshat was ready to scream bloody murder. After two years of dealing with a cantankerous head archivist that preferred to lay with his women and smoke his opium rather than actually doing his job.

The Council was unwilling to risk their only spy within Ra's Court in an attempt to find a better position, so they ordered her to remain as the Archivist. Being the Archivist did not actually give her access to sensitive subjects, but her forays into secure records yielded little reward and what records she did have access to yielded only outdated information.

So when Ra came down to her corner of the palace, she was frightened out of her wits. Did he find out she was Tok'ra? She was willing to die for the cause, yes, but she didn't want to die!

Little did she expect the Goa'uld Emperor to personally reassign her to become the aide of his scientist, Iah.

This was the breakthrough she had been earnestly hoping for for the last century of ruling her kingdom of dust and crystals. She could effectively spy on this Iah and become an important asset for the Tok'ra!

Of course, she had yet to meet this goa'uld so she didn't know how hard it would be to spy on him. But if half the rumors were true, then he was a coldblooded murderer, willing to kill as many slaves as needed to properly test out his weapon designs. And she had seen the cratered walls and ground where that rapid fire staff weapon of his had been tested. And all the bodies of the slaves murdered for it.

And if that was anything to go by, she had already painted a mental picture of Iah. Typical of his kind, sadistic to a fault, a genius in weapons of cruelty and terror, and a glutton for the pleasures of the flesh. Just like the rest of his ilk. Nothing more.

Of course, if he was that cruel, it was probably going to end badly for her if she did not step lightly.

Whilst immersed in her thoughts, Seshat did not notice him approach until she heard his voice just meters away.

Eyes flashing open, the tok'ra found her first real glimpse of this elusive Iah.

He was a tall, rather slim young man wearing rather simple white robes with equally simple embroidery. At his side was a boy, perhaps ten or so, chattering about something. Behind them, a young woman on the cusp of womanhood with an expression of world weary resignation.

This was Iah?

The boy was no doubt his lo'tar, considering the way he let him talk without limits of boundaries, questioning everything without societal niceties. The other human...was she his mistress?

"Ah, Seshat?" Iah's voice was lightly and pleasant as he addressed her politely. He smiled disarmingly at her and held out his hand, "I am Iah."

She stared at the outstretched limb dubiously before deciding to merely nod. Her new superior frowned slightly before withdrawing his hand and glancing at his lo'tar. The boy shrugged.

"Well, follow me then, I'm afraid my workshop is a little messy."

Messy was an understatement. Seshat had seen many scientists come and go, often berfit of their hosts and often made into chunky bits excruciatingly slowly, but at least they were tidy. Iah's workplace looked as if a small war had occurred here and the remains were fought over to the last Jaffa.

"Seshat, I believe your expertise if best handled over there," said the goa'uld scientist, waving in the general direction of several small mountains of parchment and data tablets. "Nishka, if you would make some tea? There is a pot in the back. Tea leaves are in the copper bottle. There is water and a heater..."

She simply stood there, staring at the immense tower with something akin to horrified awe. How the hell did he manage to make this? Was it even stable? Would it topple over her and bury her forever if she took the wrong piece of paper?

Her musings were interrupted by a squawk of pain. The boy, what was his name, was holding his cheek gingerly as Iah knelt down in front of him.

She peered over the mountain of tablets curiously, only to find Iah holding a healing device in his hand. A smile threatened to emerge from her lips as the boy became visibly surprised over how his injury disappeared, so she returned to digging through the mess of papers.

"What kind of magic was that?" Asked the lo'tar curiously. Seshat paused in her work to listen intently, expecting Iah to return the injury back to the boy.

"It is simple Goa'uld magic, Nikhat," said Iah simply. "It is what I do, create new magic for the Goa'uld."

"Can I learn how to do magic?"

Seshat froze.

"You will need to learn the language first," said Iah lightly. "Without knowing the basics, you will never learn how to do magic."

Nikhat was silent for a moment. "Is it hard?"

"Very," came Iah's voice in a mild manner. "There is no reward without hard work. You are young still and you can learn...if you wish."

"I do!" Exclaimed Nikhat.

"Then know this, if you take this chance, then you will become my apprentice. What you do will represent my actions to others," Iah said. "You must do exactly as I say, because it is dangerous work."

"Okay!"

Seshat let out a breath of air as she exhaled softly. This was different. And strange. And just surreal.

"Now...this is the letter A. This is B. And this is C."

What. Those weren't goa'uld or even jaffa languages!

As Seshat listened to Iah teach his lo'tar the basics of an unknown language, she wondered if she just walked into a job worse than her previous one.
 
V - Humble Beginnings

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
Diary Entry: The first few days of having actual human company (that stuffy scribe that Ra assigned to me) has done wonders for my peace of mind. Actual interaction, even if stilted, has given me a sense of self and purpose again. Being by myself, I had become insular. All I had were my projects, all drawn from the knowledge of all the goa'uld before me.

I had nothing to anchor me, to ground the madness that I had wrought into reality. And some of the things I considered building were mad. Things I'd normally wouldn't even consider due to the massive changes it would make to the style of warfare that the Goa'uld were used to.

But that doesn't matter anymore. I had Nikhat by my side, eagerly learning what I could teach him. He is an eager boy and of the kind of children I love interacting with. Eager to learn, curious, and obviously intelligent. I've yet to see any of the typical impatience of those of his age.

Nishka is something of a conundrum. She is the flawless image of a perfect servant, but a cold one. Nikhat tells me that they are siblings, not by blood though, and that she is very smart.

I inferred from that statement as world weariness. It does make sense, however. Nikhat is still rough around the edges, but he is a child and children adapt quickly to their environments. Nishka, however, is almost mature, just shy of seventeen. She is beautiful and her skin is flawless, which likely has attracted much attention from unwanted suitors. She has seen, no doubt, the many cruelties that the Goa'uld are capable of. She does not look me in the eye when I turn to her, instead lowering them in submission.

Still...I can see her listening in on my lessons to Nikhat as I teach him the very basics of the english language. In her own way, she has hope. Maybe that'll be enough to earn her trust.

Seshat, the scribe, is something else though. She's managed to cut the mountain of notes I have down by a quarter and she's making progress on the data tablets. If nothing else, she's quite a worker. Seshat keeps glancing at me whenever she thinks I don't notice, but I think nothing of it. I'm well aware of the rumors surrounding me, but there isn't much I can do to dispel them outside of personally showing my new companions I am not a typical Goa'uld.

Showcasing my working prototype to Ra might not help with that though.


-

"What is this? A flying boat?"

I bristle at the sneering tone of Anubis, Ra's First Prime. He was examining my skiff with all the skepticism he could muster whilst under the eyes of his lord. He criticized everything, the general shape of the skiff, the steering vanes, the simplicity of the controls; even the color of it was not above reproach.

Currently, he was criticizing the seating arrangement of my skiff.

I honestly don't know why he was acting this way. Maybe he was simply an asshole.

The skiff was something I had personally crafted with my own two hands, judiciously and meticulously designed to use as little of my naquadah budget as possible, while maximizing it's value as far as I feasibly could. Considering how cheap it was in comparison to a Deathglider, I considered it quite the achievement.

At some point Anubis had finished insulting me before demanding that I get to the practical demonstrations as he sat down in one of the 'uncomfortable seats'.

While I designed the controls to be as simple as possible, I wasn't never a very good driver even when within my original reality.

But then again, the controls were literally foolproof.

I examined the control pedestal with a quick glance. I had replaced the original red control globe with a pair of simple joysticks, after deciding that the joysticks itself was a more familiar means of piloting.

Grasping both sticks, I braced myself.

Easing them forward, the skiff began to move forwards sluggishly. Even under the low thrumming of the repulsors of the ship, I could hear the human Jaffa's snort of derision at 'how slow it was'.

Slow was it? I'll show the bastard slow!

I moved the sticks a bit more and suddenly the wind was splashing against my face, going at a respectable eighty miles per hour.

Anubis had given a cry of alarm, almost falling out of his seat. I could see him grasping the handhold in the side of the skiff, knuckles white.

"What are you doing? That is a lake, you fool! This craft is made for land, not the waters!" Bellowed Anubis. I could hear the faint note of panic in his voice as I spotted what he was refering to.

A large lake lay ahead, artificially constructed and built purely for the pleasure of the Goa'uld within Ra's court. Fortunately, there weren't many there, save for Heru'ur and his whores. I pushed the throttle all the way and was rewarded with an increased thrum of compliance.

The internal mechanisms compensated for any uneven ground, even water was nothing for this skiff. I shifted the skiff slightly, very carefully and slowly to avoid crashing and smiled as I spotted my destination ahead.

Though the skiff zipped past Heru'ur in his dainty little yacht, I could see the shocked expression on his face as a small sheet of water splashed against the wooden hull of his ship. I decided if I were impress someone, it was Ra's son. I sure wasn't going to impress Anubis.

"Turn this around!" Demands the Jaffa angrily, his face stark white.

Already an expert with the skiff, I knew turning was a dangerous affair at such a high speed. I told him as such, but Anubis was having none of it.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I employed one of my tricks to comply. Shuttering the repulsor generators and the thrust nozzles, I sent the ship seemingly tilting at a dangerous edge as it threatened to tip over. Leaning sharply to the side, the skiff made a dangerously sharp turn as it headed back to Ra's palace.

As I slowed down the skiff, I could see Anubis was finally beginning to regain some color. the cloud of sand decreased in size dramatically as the skiff finally halted smoothly before an amused looking Ra. His First Prime stepped shakily out of the skiff, face slightly pinched.

I took this as a good sign.

The trials continued for another three hours as I demonstrated the immense loads the skiff could carry without a decrease in speed, though I did caution that sharp maneuvers were not recommended as the cargo skiff wasn't designed for them, merely speedy and easy to use transport of goods and supplies.

After ferrying well over a hundred tons of naquadah to one of Ra's craftsmen, I found Heru'ur joining us. I feared for a moment that he was angry for whatever transgression I had struck him with my passing in my skiff.

"I want one" was all he had to say on the subject. Dare I say, I was most pleased by that. If Ra's son said he desired a skiff, that was a point in my favor.

The last trial was one of defensiveness, one that I argued against as it was a cargo transport, not a fighting vessel.

But Anubis was determined to make me fail in some aspect. Two jaffa were selected from Heru'ur's retinue to pilot it and they found it easy to use as well. They were told to avoid shots from Anubis' staff weapon.

The jaffa did well for several minutes until Anubis' staff managed to score a hit on one of their steering vanes, slagging the wing-like component. The ship slowed as another hit a thruster nozzle, setting alight a fire and leaving the skiff belching a trail of smoke behind it.

Ra's First Prime fired one last shot that splashed on the thin hull of the skiff. To my relieve, it did not penetrate. Heru'ur smiled as his Jaffa cheered, relieved that they did not die so soon in their god's service.

Anubis looked put out and I was ecstatic.

In the end, when Ra approved the limited manufacture of skiffs for one of his mining worlds, I was ready to celebrate when Anubis glared at me with impotent rage and Heru'ur all but begged his father for a few.
 
Nishka I

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
Diary Entry: They say actions speak louder than words, and I believe that this is true. Though Ra ordered a limited production run of my new skiffs, his son and brother both have expressed a definite interest in them. Heru'ur wanted to use them to transport his Jaffa into battle, and I expect Apophis wished the same as he shelved his pride to personally demand the designs for my skiff.

I think it amused Ra immensely to see his brother coming to me, and by extension to him, for those designs.

I couldn't give them to Apophis anyway, not without losing Ra's favor. To say that Apophis' hate for me has reached new heights is nothing short of an understatement.

In any case, impressing Ra with my practical work is worth a little celebration. A roasted pig slathered in honey, filled with fowls stuffed with fruit, bread and wine to fill out everything else.

Seshat, being used to hundreds to thousands of these being served at once in some grand hall for many years wasn't impressed, but Nikhat and Nishka certainly were.

The excitement was contagious and I had found myself grinning and laughing with them.

How long has it been, since I have company like this?


-

Iah has become drunk. I fear the worst.

Not for myself or the other goa'uld woman; but for Nikhat. He is young and innocent, with no true idea of what the goa'uld are capable of.

I have seen with my own eyes of the debauchery that the Goa'uld were capable of. Children, men, women, all were nothing more than toys to them. Toys they can take, play with, and break as they see fit.

Most of them weren't drunk.

They say that the drink brings out the worst in a person. A drunk goa'uld is the worst thing for any victim, because it is true. The drink brings out the very worst in them.

I have seen the bodies. Of children. Boys and girls. Young men and women.

"You're very pretty."

Iah is in front of me, swaying on his feet. His face is ruddy and sweating, and it was very close to mine. I can smell the wine in his breath. I kept an expression of submission as I lowered my eyes and spoke.

"Thank you, my lord."

I felt his hand on my chin and I stiffen out of reflex. A prickle of goosebumps form along my spine and I desperately hoped he did not take offense to it.

Iah lifts my chin up, so I face him, eye to eye. His eyes are drooping and he has an odd expression on his face. "You would look beautiful, if you smiled."

A smile, forced and automatic, formed on my lips at his request. But Iah frowns and he looks disappointed. He shakes his head and withdraws his hand. I brace myself for the inevitable.

A moment passes. Then another.

No blows come and I chance a glance at Iah.

"I'm not going to beat you," said the goa'uld sadly, disappointment frank in his voice. "I am not going to rape you. Please, believe me."

He turns and stumbles away from me.

Confusion has all but taken ahold of me as I wondered what just happened. Why did Iah just leave like that, looking like a kicked puppy? For a moment, I believed him, that he wasn't like the other Goa'uld. Seeing that expression on his face, the disappointment and sadness was sincere as it can be.

"Iah, wait." I blurted the words out, suddenly. I was taking a chance, a terrible chance with a god who is unpredictable, who could be just as cruel as the rest of his kind. He stopped, swaying as he glanced back at me, eyes hopeful.

I held back, wondering why this doleful version of Iah was so endearing.

"You don't need to smile for me, Nishka," Iah slurred, eyes half-lidded. "Just smile for Nikhat. Hug him, love him. Protect him. Yes, that's it..."

He nodded to himself, looking away with a wet sigh.

I was feeling uncomfortable now. What kind of god was Iah, to be such a sad drunk? But he seemed so vulnerable compared to the other Goa'uld. Why did he make it so hard for me?

Relunctantly, I stepped towards him, and allowed a small, shy, smile to form on my lips.

Iah's eyes widened, his eyebrows rose, and a full smile formed on his face; an expression of complete and utter joy that I could not help but feel taken aback by.

"Thank you," Iah murmured softly, blinking away tears?

"...for what, my lord?" I asked, cautiously.

"For reminding me that I'm not a monster," he replied, turning away from me. I still caught a look of shame on his face as he stumbled towards his bed. I walk after him, steadying his ambling.

"You are goa'uld," I said, taking care to choose my words carefully. "You are a god. We are mere mortals to do your bidding."

"Don't say things like that!" His whispering voice had suddenly taken on a harsh quality as he stared at me with softly blazing eyes. "Don't ever say things like that. It is wrong. It is right, and wrong in so many ways. And it is sad. It is a sad fact in ways you cannot understand..."

He shook off my hand and made his way to his bed.

Someone was already occupying it. A boy who could be nothing more than Nikhat. I rushed to take him from the covers, to prevent Iah from punishing him.

But Iah beat me to it. He knelt by the bed, staring blearily at Nikhat. I stood nearby, unsure of what to do.

Iah spoke, softly as he gazed down upon Nikhat. "He could be great, you know."

W-what?

"He is smart, quick, and sharp. He has the wit, the flexibility to do what I can do. In time," said Iah with a sigh. He adjusted the covers and pulled an extra blanket from underneath the boy. "But Nikhat is brash. Reckless. It will get him in trouble, sooner or later. But he will grow up and learn from it. And then he will be great..."

I watched as Iah sat down, against the wall of his workshop and nod off, into drunken stupor. After a moment's hesitation, I knelt and adjusted the blanket to cover him more completely.

I crawled into his bed, wrapping my arms around Nikhat, but I did not sleep for some moments; for my thoughts were all on Iah and the contradictions he was.
 
Seshat II

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
Second part



I stifled a yawned as I stepped over the threshold to Iah's workshop. It was still early in the morning and there was still work to be done; namely finishing the cataloguing of Iah's datapads and reorganizing them into something a little more than a gargantuan mess.

The sheer amount of random thoughts and ideas he had written down was staggering, much of it made little sense to me, while the ones I could understand were nothing short of horrifying if he ever managed to get them to work.

But being the featherbrained goa'uld he was, I doubted Iah would ever get around to it.

Last night had been something of an eye-opener for me, really. Because of the healing ability of the symbiote, it was incredibly hard to get the host body, and by extension the symbiote itself, drunk. But Iah managed with copious amounts of the sweet sour wine he had consumed in great quantity.

They say that one's true nature can be revealed through being inebriated. After how many Goa'uld revealing their cowardliness and secrets of being afraid of losing their lives to anything from slave uprisings or by their brothers and sisters, there was perhaps some truth to that old saying.

He was an interesting drunk, the I admitted to myself. Last night I had listened in on that enlightening conversation with his other Lo'tar, the pretty young woman. The sister of that other slave.

Iah was afraid of being feared, of being seen as a monster.

It was an interesting quality to the goa'uld I had been assigned to clean up after.

As the door closed behind her and it's shield came online, I let my eyes adjust to the less lit dimness of the workshop.

Last night's little party had been cleared up, the detritus swept away in favor of the relatively clean stone floor. The smell of brewing 'caf' was still fresh, it's source bubbling away somewhere within the deepest recesses of the workshop.

I was of two minds about that experimental beverage Iah had concocted. It was an excellent stimulant. But why did have to be so bitter? Speaking of the young goa'uld inventor, where was he? Ah.

Iah was propped up against the foot of his bed, his chin nestled on his chest. He was still asleep, arms and legs crossed with a blanket tucked around him. My eyes flickered to the lump in his bed, a mop of messy black hair peeking out of the blanket.

Nikhat...was in Iah's bed?

Did Iah let the boy sleep in his bed in an act of generosity? I had expected him to simply join the boy in bed or kick him off it entirely, having been in such a drunken state.

But he had apparently retained enough of a state of mind to simply take the floor as his bed of choice that night.

I peered down at the goa'uld scientist. Iah looked...peaceful.

So too did other Goa'uld when I caught glimpses of them slumbering, but most still bore that arrogant note within their features, of the falseness that belied their very existence. My charge did not have those blemishes.

I found myself watching the subtle twitches of Iah's face as he slept, not unlike that of animals when they slept.

The rustle of cloth and the sound of a mug on a tray and it's aromatic contents alerted her to someone approaching.

"My lady."

"Lo'tar," I replied, eying the steaming cup of caf with hunger. Bitter it may be, it was exactly the sort of thing I needed to wake up completely.

Nishka knelt down, a hand holding a mug up to Iah's face.

Iah's expression of peacefulness was ruined by a twitch of his nose as he inhaled the aroma of caf and opened his eyes. He stared blearily at his lo'tar before switching to me.

It is hard to explain it, but I found something incredibly endearing about his morning bout of confusion.

Rising to his feet, blanket pooling around his feet, Iah took a sip of the caf and I watched with interest as his bleary expression transformed instantly into something resembling a living human being.

As he finished the cup of steaming hot caf, he thanked Nishka. I mentally added his general politeness as another thing I needed to investigate regarding his incredibly contradictive behavior.

"Is there something on my face?" Iah asked, blinking in confusion at Nishka. The young woman merely shook her head gave him a small smile as she took his mug.

That was new. Nishka never smiled like that.

"Are you alright, Sheshat?"

When did Iah get so close to me?!

"I'm fine!" I said quickly, forcing down a flush as I shrugged off his looks of concern for me. I added another note to my ever growing list of contradictions on Iah.

"Ah, alright then," nods the goa'uld, frowning slightly. "Hmm. Maybe I should refine the recipe a bit. This caf seems a little weak."

I grimaced as he walked away, mumbling to himself about potency and brewing methods. Seshat placed a mug of steaming caf in front of me.

Surprised by the sudden appearance of the miracle beverage, I almost forgot myself as I almost thanked the lot'ar.

Nishka smiled that unnatural smile of her's that she never had made before and left without a word.

I stared at the mug of steaming caf with sudden nervousness.

I threw caution to the winds and began sipping at the scaldingly bitter beverage. All about in my mind, I made nothing but notes on Iah's behavior and the sudden change of mood and attitude his lo'tar had.
 
Interlude - Tok'ra High Council POV

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
"Let this Council begin," intoned an elderly man with faded golden hair. He was Per'sus, Supreme High Councilor of the Tok'ra High Council. Taking his seat in the center of a crescent stone table, six other Tok'ra followed suit. He cleared his throat and coughed into his fist. "Firstly, how goes the infiltration of Olokun's 'secret' research facility, Thoran?"

The dark-skinned Tok'ra smiled, "Slowly, but surely. We have an agent deep within the research staff. Olokun's hopes for a more powerful staff cannon will come bearing fruit soon. Unfortunately for him, several components have been sabotaged, it will overload unexpectedly, destroying the facility and killing all the research staff. Hopefully, Olokun will be killed as well. In any case, our agent will be long gone."

Per'sus nodded, pleased, "Your agent is to be commended."

"Lantash and Martouf make an excellent team," agreed Thoran.

"Very well. How do our plans proceed within Nirrti's domain?"

"It is well ahead of schedule," said Selmak, thin lips forming a grim. The glow in her eyes faded as Saroosh emerged. "Nirrti will never see it coming. I'd expect she'll hate the fact an old woman outsmarted her when she gets out of that cage!"

Per'sus closed his eyes and tried not to smile at the mental image of the furious System Lord locked up in one of her own cages as her experiments ran amok. "Duly noted."

"Very well, it is time we move onto the main topic at hand,"
said Per'sus as he banished the amusement from his face. His expression became grim as he surveyed the room. "It has been two years since the induction of Iah to Ra's courts and we have of course followed his meteoric rise to power as one of Ra's most trusted Underlords and perhaps his most valued scientist. One of our spies holds great influence and power within this new Goa'uld's domain. We have new information on Iah's machinations."

"What new weapons of destruction has he created now?"
Demanded Garshaw of Beloc, her face marred by an expression of disgust. "Thanks to Iah, Ra's grip on the Empire has been stronger than it has been in centuries!"

And it was true. Ever since the introduction of various innovations of Iah, Ra's power and influence grew until no System Lord could feasibly match his technological superiority with in any reasonable frame of time, even if they all poured their resources together.

The fact that they would never do such a thing out of pride and paranoia only ensured this fact.

Iah's contribution of the Kel'tak orbital fortress only served to deter the System Lord's from sending their vessels too close to Ra's homeworld. Several of the immense fortresses guarded Ah'Ra, resembling a golden octahedron several times the size of a standard Ha'tak Mothership. With no engines to speak of, the immense space station was heavily armed, armored, and shielded. Whole fleets of goa'uld motherships would be needed to destroy just one of them.

Apophis and Heru'ur each petitioned Ra for one. Such were their wishes that they both fought to send Ra a grander gift to prove their loyalties.

It was this grand design that motivated Ra to gift Iah a star system of his own, chosen for it's large naquadah resources and it's stable population of worshippers. A grand gift for a grand design; it boasted three worlds, two habitable, the other a gas giant with several planetoids, and a few asteroid fields. It was there Iah settled down and established his researches where whispers of new and frightening technologies were tested there to further increase Ra's power.

As the council exchanged worried glances, Per'sus nodded to Malek, a younger man with curly brown hair and a slightly haughty expression. Malek pulled a datapad towards him and cleared his throat for attention. "According to our source, Iah has been given additional units of naquadah for a new secret project, utilizing the knowledge obtained from several previous failures to create a completely new kind of weapon to supplement the Jaffa."

"Which of the failed projects is Iah using for this new weapon?" Asked Selmak curiously.

Malek glanced at the datapad, "The miniaturized personal anti-gravity module..."

The council exchanged an uneasy glance. That one resulted in at least one of Iah's jaffa minions floating away, never to be found again.

"...the solar-powered drone that Iah built when he imbibed sixty liters of cactus juice from Chulak," he continued, pausing slightly. "For those who wish to know, it was captured using several large fishing nets, four Al'kesh, and several hundred Jaffa."

That one was an interesting, if not humorous, failure that had the Tok'ra wondering what use it could possibly have. The thing was powered by the sun, something that was plainly lower on the technological ladder, and it absolutely refused to be caught by anyone. All it did was fly and bathe in the sun.

"And finally, the palm-sized ma'tok prototype that Ra rejected," finished the Tok'ra.

"That one was certainly a joke," murmured Per'sus aloud, eyes wandering.

Selmak looked like she wanted to say something, but Thorin interjected sharply. "Let's not start this argument again. You two can argue about the feasibility of that thing outside."

Both Tok'ra flushed at the rebuke but complied.

The weapon in question had been one of Iah's attempts at decreasing the size of the traditional Jaffa weapon without losing firepower and increasing the fire rate. Unfortunately, the firepower did decrease, but several shots were enough to wound at the very least, though compared to the range of Ma'tok staves, this prototype's effective range was reduced drastically. Iah was unable to convince Ra to allow even the limited manufacture of these weapons.

The Tok'ra were of two minds about it. It was a concealable weapon, one that could be used extensively by their agents, but the lack of effective firepower reduced it's usefulness to the point where a zat'nik'tel was preferred.

The arguments between Selmak and Per'sus were the stuff of legend. Their argument regarding this little weapon was no different.

"The question is, what does Iah intend to do with the knowledge gained from these failed projects?" Asked Delek, a young man with an aura of calm around him.

"Alas, we do not know," said Per'sus dejectedly. "Our agent may soon find out soon enough."

"Is there any other news regarding Iah that we should know about?" Asked Delek.

Garshaw snorted. "Other than his extensive rebuilding of the cities on his new homeworld? We still haven't been able to insert agents into his domain without extreme difficulty."

"Don't worry Garshaw, we have people on the ground and that is what matters," Malek said reassuringly. He turned to the rest of the council, "Iah is continuing to import great quantities of animal life, ranging from birds to small animals, including cats and dogs. As well as large numbers of skilled Jaffa from Ra's forces."

The Supreme Councilor nodded, "Something to keep an eye on."

"Well, according to our source, Iah recently traded seven of his cargo ships for roughly seventy leagues of bronze piping," noted another Tok'ra, raising her eyebrows. "Why would he need seventy leagues of piping?"

"Clearly, nothing good," muttered Thorin, to the agreement of his fellow council members.

"We will have to wait and see then," Per'sus said, standing. "This meeting is concluded."
 

Spartan303

In Captain America we Trust!
Administrator
Staff Member
Founder
Osaul
I remember seeing this a while back. Nice to see it here. Our creative writing section needs to grow.:)
 
Seshat III

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
In truth, ruling a world had it’s perks, Seshat decided, as a servant deposited a goblet of chilled sammuro juice. She thanked the young man and turned back to her brooding.

After nearly two years of working for Iah, her reward came in the form of becoming the only real assistant to Ra’s favorite scientist.

But now, instead of actually assisting Iah in his experiments, she ruled his world for him while he tinkered away in his workshop.

She managed everything from the flow of resources and manpower to a myriad of complicated projects that ranged from the construction of a dedicated waste management system to the allocation of materials for the eventual shipyards to produce experimental warships.

It started with Iah giving her little jobs. Taking care of the organizing of reports from the various Jaffa overseers about the construction of the city’s various districts. Iah had gone down there to personally make sure his orders for the treatment of the workers were taken in both spirit and letter of the law; she’d never seen the goa’uld so adamant.

It wasn’t long before Iah began delegating more and more work to her before Seshat realized that Iah absolutely hated doing paperwork. He wasn’t a sloth by any definition of the word, but he was most certainly someone who preferred to dream up grand projects, design the greater parts of it, then hand it out to those underneath him to make it reality while shutting himself in his workshop to tinker.

Hence why she now owned a massive office suitable for her position as the woman who organized and delegated everything for Iah. A hand built wooden heavy desk with a shining finish sat in front of her, with a very comfortable hand carved chair. Not to mention the very tasteful carpets, the fountains, and the very nice view of the balcony on the lefthand side.

None of this dispelled the literal mountain of datapads and readers on her very large and very nice desk.

It was a very nice desk, though, Seshat decided. It was a pity she couldn’t appreciate it properly with all the paperwork covering it.

In truth, most the actual paperwork was done by the human underlings Iah had her appoint to sort what was important and what was not, giving them unprecedented power in the growing bureaucracy.

Seshat massaged her temples in the growing headache as she thought back on everything Iah had done in the years they’ve known each other.

He had invested a great deal into this planet, more so than the richest Goa’uld would ever risk.

Iah freed the slaves, educated them in the Jaffa tongue, and taught them how to read and write. He gave each family outside of the city a plot of land, a large house, and protection in exchange for seasonal tribute of foodstuffs, a list of services they were to provide, and a pledge of their loyalty to him.

Before they were given to Iah, most slaves lived in squalid huts, often made of mud, wood, and straw. They were often dirty and had no concept of hygiene and having any real privacy.

That all changed when Iah developed the concept of apartments within his city proper. Large complexes that could easily house dozens to even hundreds of people at a time, with each family having up to three bedrooms, a kitchen and common area.

Truthfully, he more or less told her the general gist of his idea and then left it in her hands to make it into reality.

At first, the people had no idea what to make of the place. A home given to them by a benevolent ‘god’ with no strings attached was perplexing enough to the poor people. Giving thousands of people what was essentially a many homes built into one multilevel home was mindboggling.

But to Seshat’s surprise, the freed slaves eventually adapted and began living in them as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Of course, then Iah demanded that the former slaves learn how to clean themselves using the internal plumbing installed within the homes.

Iah had built a toilet with nothing more than cheap ceramic, string, and some bronze tubing. Each family had one, and a large bathing hall was built into each level for the growing communities to use.

Again, the primitive people were perplexed at the idea of washing themselves everyday. But Iah was adamant.

“A clean and orderly people are less prone to becoming ill. A bath or shower a day and I guarantee that the population will practically explode within the year,” the goa’uld had said, trying to look wise.

Seshat didn’t argue, but quite a lot of people did. Many outright refused to bathe at all, while others took to the practice and looked better for it. Outbreaks of disease and illnesses dropped sharply over the year and thousands praised their ‘god’ for so generous with his wise edicts.

Ever since then, Iah would throw concepts and ideas at her, one after another and leaving it all in her hands to plan out and development while he stayed inside his workshop to tinker away without distraction.

Most of his ideas were of the conventional sort. Very experimental, and maybe a little cruel.

But at least Iah didn’t go out of his way to be cruel unlike many Goa’uld scientists.

A kitten was once gifted to him by Amaunet, Queen of Apophis, and Iah loved the little creature to pieces. Feeding it, playing with it, constantly in his company. In one of his bouts of inspiration, Iah had paired it up to some equipment and ‘interfaced’ the feline with one of his projects; an aerial drone with an onboard artificial intelligence.

Whatever the reason, the drone was a success of a sort. It flew about, surveying the area, but without rhyme or reason.

To Iah’s horror, the cat began to show signs of deterioration, ultimately resulting in it’s slow wasting death.

The idiot goa’uld blamed himself of course, and he was nigh inconsolable for weeks. Seshat found it hard to believe he would become so attached to the animal, but found herself missing it too.

Iah was like that sometimes. He’d get flashes of inspiration, make something happen, and it’d either result in joy or tears.

She honestly didn’t know whether to enjoy the joy or the tears; the joy often came from a new weapon and the tears often resulted in far less people dying. But at least her patron didn’t become an emotional wreck every time he found a failure that he’d blame himself entirely far too much for.

So when she heard Iah having another of his ‘fits’ from a servant, she quickly made her way through the palace to Iah’s workshop.

The workshop was a mess, littered with shattered crystal, broken datapads, twisted metal, and papers in all directions. Huddled in a corner, weeping to himself was Iah.

He was a mess. Tears streaked down his face as he moaned and murmured madly to himself, cursing and growling in the same breath. Seshat had seen him in many such fits, but never one as violent as this. Seshat moved towards him, but Iah seemed to be in a world of his own, ignoring reality to sob into his knees and babble to himself.

"Iah?" She asked, taking a hold of his shoulder, as she tried peer into his tear streaked face. "What's the matter?'

Iah only hugged his knees harder and became even more unresponsive to her prodding.

Unsure how to handle this, Seshat called for Nishka, the motherly servant girl.

Nishka had been of great help these past few years, dealing with her patron’s fits and making sure he ate while she took care of the minute details of helping him rule his little empire. She took care of his needs while acting as the defacto head of the common servants and acting with surety that no human in any Goa'uld realm would ever dare.

But then, Iah's home was not like any Goa'uld Seshat ever seen before.

Sure enough, within minutes Nishka pushed past her without a comment, making a beeline straight for the blubbering goa’uld in the corner.

Within seconds, the young woman did what Seshat could not, cajoling Iah into standing up, pushing, bullying him almost, in his bed, preparing some spiced tea to put him to sleep. All the while murmuring a song softly to him.

Seshat watched them for awhile, eyes on Iah’s face before she turned and walked away. Her feet took her to her private quarters, a place where her privacy was assured.

Iah was more liberal with his trust than other Goa’uld, something Seshat had unabashedly taken advantage of.

This meant the private subspace transceiver to the Tok’ra hidden underneath her floor wouldn’t ever be found, especially not with the security safeguards within her quarters. Pulling out the orb, Seshat made to touch it, but hesitated.

The High Council already knew that Iah suffered from some form of mental illness, but did not know the cause nor the effects on him. Their insistence on treating him like the other Goa’uld seemed contrary, especially after what she had seen of him so far in these two years of working with him.

Iah wasn’t like them. He was kind, he was gentle, and above all else, he displayed uncharacteristic moral fiber in comparison to that of the malevolence of Goa’uld as old as him.

Seshat moved her hand away and pushed the transceiver back into it’s hidden compartment.

Her report to the High Council could wait.
 
Nishka II, Heru'er I

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
The morning brought a new dawn as the city slowly began to awake. First amongst those awake was Nishka, already out of her showers and pulling on her robes. Her role had changed greatly ever since Iah brought them to this world and built this massive city.

Once a caretaker and a careful servant, her time with Iah changed her little. Now, however, she commanded legions of servants, oversaw the craftsmen, the bakers, and the common jobs of the common folk of the realm.

An incredible position that most slaves would never concieve of.

But then, there were no slaves in Iah’s realm.

If nothing else, this decree alone was what allowed her to impart a little trust towards the ‘God’. She had seen too much, been humiliated greatly by the Goa’uld to truly trust them; but Iah had promised freedom to his slaves and he kept his word. This was enough to let her trust him a little.

That he would allow himself to be so vulnerable was also a surprise. Goa’uld did not trust others, this was a known fact.

But Iah trusted her implicitly, even though she could have ended him at any time.

At first, Nishka didn’t know how to return that trust. She tried to please him with her body, but he had refused her advances. She tried to see to his needs, but that only really had to do with making sure he ate and exercised.

It was only when Iah was rewarded with a world of his own did she find a means to return his trust.

She returned that trust by ensuring the loyalty and discretion of the people working for him.

People saw her as the one mortal woman who had Iah’s ear. They were in awe of her; but at the same time, there were always those who saw her as an obstacle.

Nishka dealt with those as she always did.

Discreetly.

This morning, instead of her usual meal of porridge and tea, she decided to add an egg and some fruit as well. Nishka feared she would need the strength today.

Her usual rounds alternated depending on the day, ranging from inspecting the plumbing network to checking up on the orphanages. Today, however, was very different.

Ever since Iah’s latest fit a week ago, he had thrown himself into his work with reckless abandon. Just yesterday, she had found him throwing a cloth over a mass of metal and crystal, before taking an afternoon nap with several cats and dogs, all with odd helmets attached to their heads.

Then, out of nowhere, he announced that the Supreme System Lord Ra had decided to check up on his projects by sending his son Heru’ur and a number of Horus Guards to inspect the latest prototypes.

Personally, Nishka hated it whenever Iah threw these little surprises of his on her with little to no warning. She wondered if he did it intentionally or he really was just that tactless.

So it was with some dread as she found herself standing just behind Seshat with a group of jaffa before the Chappa’ai. Even as she composed herself, Seshat was eying her with some concern as the ring activated.

Even as the plume of the gate’s activation was drawn back into the shimmering surface. Nishka tried not to let the fear show on her face as the first of the Goa’uld stepped foot upon her home.

-

The first thing Heru’ur noticed when he emerged from the Chappa’ai was the smell.

He had been told Iah had built a massive city with the resources at his disposal, with at least a million slaves, thousands of Jaffa living in it. Having lived, fought, and conquered many such metropolises, Heru’ur had found they all had something in common:

They stunk.

This city, however, smelt clean.

Heru’ur looked around his surroundings, seeing only white stone clean of any blemishes or stink. Even plazas where the Chappa’ai were located on other worlds had the suffocating smothering of perfumes to cover the scent of piss and waste of cities.

If Iah’s city was as clean as he believed it to be, even the individual stones beneath his feet must be washed every day to look so white.

“Lord Heru’ur,” said a minor goa’uld within a beautiful female host, bowing her head towards him. “Welcome to Aaru’Ra. If you will follow me, I will take you to Lord Iah.”

Next to him, the Jaffa Anubis purses his lips in a grimace, much to Heru’ur’s amusement. Whatever ailed the Jaffa to fuel such disapproval, he could not fathom.

As they began their trek, Heru’ur took the time to take in the sights.

Aaru’Ra had once been the domain of Osiris, before the betrayer settled on Earth with his Queen during the glory days of the Empire.

There was a city dedicated to him, yes, but it had fallen into disrepair, and nothing was done to improve the world.

Until Iah came.

Now, Heru’ur saw, there were aqueducts, made of stone and little else. They carried clean water from the mountains around the city, utilizing only the natural gravitational pull of the world to rush the water along; no naquadah was needed.

Large buildings that the slaves lived in, rather than the mud huts and hovels. And the slaves!

The slaves wore clothes. Simple and clean clothing, yes, but on most worlds slaves barely had any to begin with, naught but rags to their filthy bodies.

A sea of men, women, and children bowed their heads in respect for them as they parted before the Goa’uld and their guards.

Heru’ur felt a tricking of confusion, as he glanced at the bowed heads of Iah’s subjects around him.

Their offerings of respect and submission to him was not false, that was clear enough. But it was strange, their postures, their stances, their very actions were too...casual. Casual acknowledgments were only given by those a Goa’uld felt safe around or had in turn acknowledged in such a way. He himself had such a group, his favorite Jaffa company were often casual in their worship of him and Heru’ur often drank and whored with them.

Were he someone else, these people would be rounded up and several of their number made an example of.

Idly, the goa’uld wondered if Iah was too soft of these creatures and made certain to speak to him about it; lest one of the mortals would get it into his head to make trouble.

Rebelling humans were always a tricky problem to deal with; especially when cities full of valuables were involved. You couldn’t bombard them with staff cannons until they submitted, because half the city would be on fire. No, Heru’ur had a good idea how to advise Iah on this matter; a few executions and that ought to put the fear of the gods into these people again.

He glanced at Anubis, noting the Jaffa’s curled lip and wondered if the man ever found approval in anything.

As they cleared the crowd of peasants, a large golden skiff was waiting for them. Of this, Heru’ur beamed at the sight, while to his left Anubis began to scowl.

The skiff bore Iah’s emblem, a half crescent moon emblazoned on it’s tall triangular red sail. Sitting down on one of the plush seats, the System Lord gazed upwards towards the bright blue sky.

Dozens of platforms each massing as much as three Al’kesh hung in the air, sitting high above the city as skiffs of all shapes and sizes flew through the clouds, delivering their cargo to and from the platforms.

Iah had done well for himself, despite his faults, mused Heru’ur to himself as their ship lifted off and began ascending. The young goa’uld had a city teeming with millions of relatively devoted worshippers, a technological genius with incredible amounts of resources devoted to his researches, and the favor of the Supreme System Lord himself!

He gazed at the nearest platform, noting the tall obelisk sitting atop it and the adjacent pylons supporting it’s place in the sky. Dozens of skiffs were docked on it and there seemed to be construction going on. Perhaps another project of Iah’s?

Turning downwards, Heru’ur saw that the chappa’ai was situated on an inhabited forested island, a single large bridge leading from it to the main landmass, where the real city was situated.

It was a shining jewel of gold and white in the far distance; pyramids and obelisks of all shapes and sizes gleaming under the full force of the sun. Sitting against very mountains, in all it’s glory was a great pyramid that was no doubt Iah’s palace.

“Why is the Chappa’ai so far from the city?” Demanded Heru’ur, eyes glowing.

“The city’s does not need the chappa’ai,” replied the human woman, Iah’s lotaur, her gaze submissive. “Iah wishes for it to be so.”

“Iah often keeps his reasons to himself,” said the lesser goa’uld, Seshat, her expression bland. “He prefers that no questions are asked unless he wishes for them.”

Heru’ur resolved to ask Iah regarding the matter later, insteading he turned to another topic nearest at hand. “Hmph. What are these platforms for?”

“According to Iah, he intends for these platforms to act as a variety of stations.” Explains Seshat, glancing at a platform nearby. Numerous arms and and extensions protruded from it’s base, where numerous gliders could be seen. “From refuel, repair, and service to mining and refining of naquadah and other resources. All purpose space stations that can be placed in orbit or in the atmosphere.”

“Can they move on their own power?” Asked the System Lord with interest.

“From atmosphere to high orbit, yes. But they require assistance from ships in order to move to other locations.”

“Interesting...” Murmured Heru’ur.

There was not much other talk, save for the occasional question as they quickly passed over vast tracts of farmland and small towns. Skiffs from the city avoided them; but gliders and skiffs holding Iah’s jaffa began to form up around them in protective formation as they drew closer to the city.

Heru’ur felt a grin slowly climb as the craft peeled away, feeling the skiff slowing as it settled atop a raised platform. He and the Horus Guard stood as it settled down, and led by Seshat and the Lo’taur, found themselves in a plush waiting area.

Much to Heru’ur’s annoyance, Seshat promised them that Iah would be arriving shortly to greet them, as he was apparently testing something and that they only needed to wait for a little while longer.

“Where is the testing area?” He demanded, voice booming. The lesser goa’uld looked like she wanted to protest, but his quelling glare silenced her at once.

“It is unwise to interrupt Lord Iah during a test-” Said the lo’taur uneasily, her voice broke off at the sight of his face. “...if you’ll follow me. It is not far from here.”

And once again, they were off, through the winding passageways and past servants and jaffa.

Finally, they found themselves before a large doorway, with sounds of a dog’s booming bark on the other side.

Heru’ur ignored the protests of the lo’taur and opened the doors himself.

The first thing he saw was a large object flying towards him. It impacted his chest, knocking him back slightly before it dropped to his feet. His eyes dropped to the object.

It was a large cloth ball.

The booming bark of the dog caught their attention and eyes slowly raised upwards.

It was massive, easily many times the size of an ordinary hound. Unlike a regular hound, this one was made of metal and crystal. Smooth edges and a rounded head shaped vaguely like that of a dog’s, with eyes of crystal that focused on them.

The monstrosity barked again before throwing itself towards them, bounding in great leaps and bounds in a matter of seconds. Heru’ur was frozen in fear as it bore down on him, it’s massive jaws opening to reveal rows of sharp teeth as it...

...snatched up the ball and turned around to run away.

Heru’ur let out a deep breath as the dog-shaped monstrosity bounded over to a figure in a simple tunic and pants, dropping the ball at his feet and snuffling softly.

“Iah,” breathed the lo’taur softly, “I tried to stop him, but...”

“Oh don’t worry about it Nishka!” Iah said, grinning widely as he patted the creature. It whines softly as he picks up the ball, hefting it in both hands. “I’m sure Heru’ur has learned his lesson. Here, play with Tesem. I’ll introduce Ibi and Gari.”

A slimmer, but substantially massive creature emerged from behind a rock, resembling a large cat of sme sort. It too was metal and crystal, with crystal red eyes as it swept it’s gaze over them before turning to ‘sniff’ at the air.

Anubis gave a small shout of alarm as something fell from the sky and settled by Iah’s shoulder. Richly decorated, it resembled a small owl with it’s talons tucked underneath it’s body, it’s wings ornate wheels that spun rapidly as it hooted softly.

“W-what are these things?” Asked Heru’ur softly, his eyes on the massive metal hound as Iah’s lo’taur tiredly herded it away with the ball. “What have you created?”

Iah smiled as he strokes the top of the feline machine’s head.

“Prototypes. The Watcher. The Guardian. And of course, the Hunter.”

There was a loud tearing sound as the mechanical monstrosity that only vaguely resembled a dog tore into the ball with relish.

“Like them?” Asked the goa’uld with an air of smugness.

“Like them?” Breathed Heru’ur eagerly, “What else have you lying in wait? I can’t wait!”

Next to him, Anubis gave a low moan of horror at the sight of Iah’s face growing even smugger.
 
Heru'ur II

ThatTabiFromSB

Professional Jissou Abuser
“So you call this hound the Guardian, do you?” Murmured Heru’ur as he examined the machine closely.

“It’s a guard dog that will never rest, will always be alert, and can tear a fully armored jaffa in two if need be,” said Iah with a great deal of pride.

A masterwork of silvery metal, with articulated joints that seemed blocky and sluggish, but clearly had no affect on the limber and swift hound pacing the laboratory's floor. It's eyes were of gleaming blue crystals on a large vaguely dog-like face, it’s jaws filled with dozens of sharp, jagged teeth.

Heru'ur watched, his breath tight in his throat, as Iah calmly patted the machine's 'nose. The machine's tail slammed into the ground in pleasure in response, just like a normal hound's would, sending small reverberations through the ground.

The beast had all the presence of a slab of untempered metal, but was running around the room with barely constrained energy, again, just like a normal beast of it's kind would have.

That was the most disconcerting thing; how had Iah managed to create a Dog in a body that was not a dog's?

The body itself was not particularly difficult to comprehend; expensive though it appeared to be.

Blocky armor sections interwove around the beast's chest and limbs, leaving just enough room for the joints to move about easily, with nary a single sound.

It carried more plate than a dozen Jaffa, and even its only weapon were its teeth, it would be more than enough to tear through any number of Jaffa without pause.

Finally, he turned to Iah, a dozen possible uses for such a Weapon lingering in his mind.

"I want one," Heru'ur said at last, staring at Iah.

The other goa’uld laughed heartily at him. “I expect you will. When I have finished with this one here, I shall gift him to you. Once he has passed the tests, he will be worthy of a System Lord.”

“Thank you.” Heru’ur rarely ever used those two words with such sincerity as he did now, such was his gratitude to Iah.

“Come,” said the scientist eagerly, his enthusiasm matching the System Lord’s. “I have much more to show you.”

Unheeding of Anubis’ expression of disapproval, Heru’ur followed him to the Hunter. The immense cat-like machine emitted a purr at the sight of Iah, but paused in midstep once Heru’ur came into view. Though it had no traditional eyes to be seen, the crystals inset into the eyesockets gave the impression of an unnerving gaze.

“Shhh, it’s alright...come here my girl, yes, that’s a good girl,” Iah murmured, holding out of hand as the Hunter slowly padded forward.

Unlike that of the Guardian, the Hunter’s paws made little to no sound that he could pick up. The cat-like ‘face’ of the Hunter turned towards him, it’s ears twitching before pressing the side of it’s face against Iah’s hand with a low purr that set his teeth on edge.

“The Hunter, fast, versatile, less armored, but it can chase down just about anything,” Iah was saying, as the enormous cat-like machine continued to purr against it’s creator’s body with obvious pleasure.

“Who!”

Heru’ur resisted the urge to jump as the distinctive hoot of the owl-shaped creature made it’s presence known above them.

Perched atop a bookshelf, the iron avian’s two large eyes looked down at them with a strange intensity. Heru’ur frowned slightly as he matched stares with them.

The Watcher’s eyes spiraled slowly, the golden hoop on each side spinning slowly as it stared right back at him.

Iah was saying something, but his voice seemed far away. Heru’ur felt his eyes growing heavy as the spirals in the owl’s eyes kept spinning steadily, mesmerizingly and-

He yelped as something jabbed him in the side.

“The Watcher also has passive hypnotic abilities,” the scientist explained as Anubis rushed towards them, hand on his staff weapon’s trigger.

Heru’ur stood up, shaking his head to throw aside the cobwebs in his mind, all traces of tiredness fading. “And effective as well. I don’t like it.”

Iah nodded, ignoring Anubis’ scowl as he looked up at the Watcher as it’s miniature talons shifted and it’s petite beak emitted another hoot. “Ah, it’s a typical reaction.”

“Anyway, perhaps we should finish this with something to eat? I have experimented with foodstuffs as well, I’m sure you’ll find what I have come up with delightfully delicious!”

-

Anubis looked down at the bowl of thick stew with a dubious expression, noting the overly spicy smell, the overcooked meat, and the odd herbs he couldn’t recognize.

The Jaffa glanced to the side, where two other Horus Guards were watching impassively as Heru’ur and Iah talked animatedly over their food.

Iah had introduced ‘caf’ to them, an exceedingly bitter and disgusting beverage he had created from roasting herbal ‘beans’ to invigorate the body and sharpen the mind. Strangely enough, it worked, but for the First Prime of Ra, it wasn’t worth another sip.

Heru’ur however, he took to the black drink with gusto, talking about how he would use it to ensure his jaffa remain alert even through the night and cold. Personally, Anubis doubted it’d last, and the taste was putrid enough to make any Jaffa worth their salt gag.

No, only weak Jaffa would bother imbibing the horrid sludge just to keep awake for their god.

Real Jaffa didn’t need caf.

He took a miniscule sip of his stew and grimaced at the spice. Pushing it away, the Jaffa Prime let his eyes roam around the room for threats.

When Iah insisted on the Guards partaking in the meal, Anubis found himself suspicious of the young Goa’uld’s motives.

There was no poison, nor assassins or even any Jaffa bursting in to kill him whilst he grudgingly partook in Iah’s little feast by Heru’ur’s insistence.

Much of the fare was delicious judging by the other participants, including one of the larget Jaffa he’d ever laid eyes on.

The man could hardly be considered ‘Tiny’ by any means, with massive shoulders and arms as thick as the trunks of small trees; the First Prime of Iah gave off an imposing presence that even he, First Prime of Ra, felt and acknowledged.

Iah merely introduced him as his First Prime, leaving it at that. The immense Jaffa gave no name; his sheer bulk and intimidating size was all he needed to say.

Whilst the three other Horus Guard kept an eye on the monster of a Jaffa, Anubis remained vigilant as Iah’s servants cleared the plates and began laying out bowls of an icy dessert.

“What is this? Some new sugary invention?” Heru’ur was asking, voice curious as he carefully poked at the small mounds within his bowl.

“Iced cream,” Iah had replied with a small smile as he spooned some into his mouth. “Inexpensive and relatively simple to make. Mere peasants can make it with simple instructions; though it takes some skill to create a truly smooth and flavorful ice cream such as this.”

“Mmm! It is delicious!” Said the other goa’uld with a nod. “Honey and spice cream, you spoil me Iah! At this rate I’ll be knocking Nerus off his pedestal of the quickest to change hosts because I’ll be more morbidly obese than he!”

Iah didn’t reply, Anubis noted, with the odd expression on his face as he gazed at Heru’ur. Iah was hiding something, he realized.

It was only when Heru’ur stopped laughing, winced, and put a hand to his head to moan in acute pain, did Anubis realize why.

Poison!

Iah had seen Heru'ur's expression of pain and had the gall to laugh at his face, leaning towards him to gloat.

By the time the Jaffa were rising to the defense of their God, Anubis was already moving, his hands constricting around Iah’s frail neck as he prepared to break the treasonous God’s neck.
 

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