Stargate And Then I Was A God (Stargate SI)

[ThatTabiFromSB]

I worked my way through a backlog of old projects I've been keeping on the shelf. The Servitor drone found it's innards being open up and removed like a mechanical vivisection of crystalline dust and bronze shavings. It's sole eye is dim and the halfhearted whirring inside has stopped when I found what the problem was. A shattered control crystal that had exploded within it's slot, damaging the controls to it's anti-gravity module.

"Hand me those control crystals, would you?" I asked aloud.

My shadow, ever present, picks up a rack of colorful control crystals. Each were the size of thimbles, they were hideously difficult to make. Crystallized computing was already very efficient, attempting to miniaturize it further was an effort in inducing madness.

There is a soft clink as he picks up two light pink crystal. Ha, he can already tell which ones I wanted out of the lot.

I glance up at him and take the crystals, "Thank you."

The Ashrak doesn't react, merely returning to his composed ramrod straight guarding pose. My attention returns to the drone's innards, but my thoughts are on my shadow.

I knew better though. Underneath the mask of indifference was a young man unused to emotion, who only knew how to seek love from his highest superior, his god. Beneath the training of a lifetime was a human boy who was desperate for affection and acknowledgement.

Each and every heartfelt thanks and honest praise struck him deeper than his blade ever could.

I know this, because I saw it. In an effort to find out how he had evaded all my security measures, I had Nishka and Seshat gather all surveillance footage from all around the city, the countryside, the surrounding wilderness, and the Bridge.

After many hours of reviewing said footage, we carefully pieced together the means of infiltration he had taken. The Ashrak did not arrive through the stargate as we had initially thought. No, we found him leaving a cargo container that an Al'kesh had dropped off earlier that day. The container had been moved into the city, it's contents of grain to be distributed.

He left wearing a Baker's Guild tunic. Despite Seshat insistence, there were no cases of anyone in the Baker's Guild coming down with an unexpected case of death or sudden possession.

We tracked the assassin across the city as he made his way past the security checkpoints and evaded the patrols. He made it look easy. Of course, at the time I did not know he was Ra's and thus had access to my security measures and patrol times. The Baker's tunic was exchanged for more nondescript clothing and a cloak.

What was unusual was that he did not make his way to my palace immediately. Instead the Ashrak had made his way to the Jaffa Quarter, a walled community where approximately a quarter of the Jaffa's families lived; hence it's name. The quarter were made up large apartments with parks in the center, each holding an upwards of a thousand people and allowing the residents to live comfortably.

We watched as the man scaled the walls and make his way through the apartment interior. He avoided the children playing in the park, taking the stairs to the third floor and knocking on a door. A woman, slightly thin with a smile that reached her eyes. The two spoke as Nishka searched for information on the woman. Was she an informant? A spy?

Perhaps it was none of those things.

The assassin reached into his cloak. To our surprise, it was not a knife or a bribe he pulled out, but a letter. The woman took it with trembling fingers and slowly opened it. The expression of her face went through many changes in quick succession. Fear, shock, hope, joy. She was crying silently and the assassin turned away slightly.

From what I could see, he felt uncomfortable.

Then the woman threw her arms around him, practically pulling him into a hug. The assassin's face was one of pure panic as the woman sobbed what we could only assume was gratitude.

The ashrak eventually managed to extricate himself from the woman's arms and big her goodbye.

She shook her head and bade him to wait, turning to head back inside. A moment later, a parcel wrapped in leaves was given to him with a prayer on her lips.

This was not the first letter he would bring. I would watch him bring letters that brought joy and closure to three more families across the city. Later, when Nishka found the families in question and had them questioned discreetly, it was discovered they all had something in common.

Jaffa in the service of Ra who had disappeared. From the contents of the letter, it seemed they were Jaffa trapped on a planet Ra used for his Trials. Each were veterans of their own right, former Primes that had served Ra for many years, before being sent to be opponents in a Trial of martial might for any that Ra wished to test.

The Ashrak had no reason to abide to their request to deliver letters to inform their families of their fate. But it was a request honored with faith.

"Is there something the matter, my lord?" Asked the Ashrak behind me. I smiled to myself and shook my head, extricating myself from within the drone.

I hit my head on the lip of the opening as soon as I heard the air raid sirens go off.

-

Underlord Mot'ti couldn't help but feel unease as his First Prime informed him of their imminent arrival to Dashani, Iah's homeworld. Apophis had assured him that a small force would be able to penetrate whatever defenses were present and strike deep into Iah's domain. From there it was merely a matter of attacking a research center and making off with whatever technology was being developed.

Personally, Mot'ti was of two minds about this endeavor. On one hand, it was incredibly risky. On the other... well, it could be extremely lucrative. From all reports and assurances, Iah's defenses were very light. Perilously so, even!

So weak that even a minor Goa'uld such as he stood a chance to climb very high into the ranks indeed.

"My lord, we are leaving hyperspace," said his First Prime.

This was it. The moment where he gave to order to begin the attack... or retreat. He was racked with indecision, but the conclusion was foregone. The Underlord didn't have a choice, really, when it came down to it.

When Apophis tells you to attack, you attack. Regardless of the consequences or assurances. Mot'ti knew very well what the consequences would be for him if he simply returned; execution for cowardliness or worse.

That is of course not to say what Ra would do to him.

But... the alluring chance to get technology beyond even the Supreme System Lord...

"Launch all death gliders as soon as we arrive. Al'kesh are to escort the transports to their landing zones," declared the Underlord authoritatively. "Gliders are to engage their fighters while we focus our firepower upon whatever ships are present."

"Yes, my lord!" Chorused the Jaffa around him.

His ship left hyperspace and Mot'ti found himself looking at a blue green and gold jewel of a world below him. The edges of his pel'tak were lit with flames, licking at the window. They were still decelerating, it seemed. He had chosen to emerge close to the world, despite the risk of losing some structural integrity, partially entering the upper atmosphere, as well as weakening the shield strength of his ships and exposing them to fire from any ships in orbit his fleet had bypassed.

"There are no ships in orbit." Spoke his First Prime, his voice betraying his surprise. "No reaction from Dashani's defenses, if there are any."

Perhaps Apophis was right, after all. Perhaps Iah relied upon his and Ra's reputation to protect him from harm.

"All death gliders have been launched. They have taken up positions to escort the Al'kesh and the transport ships."

"Have the Grasping Hand join them in the descent. We will remain in low orbit to provide support."

"Yes, my lord!"

One of his three Cheops-class warships broke away from formation to join the two dozen Al'kesh and two troop transports. A flock of sixty gliders took point as they screamed down to the planet below in search of worthy prey. A hundred more waited in the modified hangar bays on his Cheops for the order to descend.

Mot'ti sat back into his throne, counting down the time it would take before things went awry. He was soon rewarded for that foresight, when sensors found half as many Gliders ascending to meet his forces. Along with one Cheops and a Chel'tak siege vessel bearing Iah's cresecent moon.

Perhaps Lord Apophis was right, he did have a chance.

"Open fire. Destroy all enemy forces and land the Jaffa for the glory of your God!" He ordered. There was no turning back now. He was committed.

The outcome of this battle would result in his death or his ascension. Underlord Mot'ti was hedging on the latter.

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

The sirens continued their wailing, even as people milled about in confusion.

"Evacuate to the shelters! I repeat, evacuate to the shelters!"

The booming voice of the Jaffa over the speaker echoed across the city and the words of warning spurred the people into action. Guards quickly direct the city folk to the shelter entrances, leading them deep beneath the city. This was what I was assured of as Jaffa led me to the command center deep within the palace.

Even from here, deep in the pyramid in the moutains, I can still hear the faintest of panicked cries of the people and the booming echoes of warning.

The command center was a hive of activity that slowed just a bit as I entered. An immense table was raised in the center, on it's surface a hologram of the city, my palace, and the surrounding area. The Chappa'ai was active and it looked like enemy troops were already pouring out of the portal.

"Report!" I demanded; it was unnecessary it did give me a feeling that I had some measure of control right now.

A full sized hologam of Marshal Kar'tan, however, immediately assured me that I did indeed have that control as he inclined his head towards me in acknowledgement and began speaking.

"Three Cheops class warships emerged in high orbit above Dashani, along with two dozen Al'kesh, two transports, and some one hundred sixty gliders." He gestured and multiple new holograms appeared representing the ships over the planet. "They emerged extremely close to the upper atmosphere, risking insufficient deceleration."

The holograms refocused, showing three pyramids, one joining the landing force and two holding position in orbit.

"Forty of the new glider craft are seconds away from engaging the enemy, my lord. The modified Cheops and Chel'tak warships will join them in battle as well." Kar'tan continued. "In coordination with Marshals Targon and Ra'nor, the Jaffa are readying themselves for fighting in the streets and in the fields. I will command the Chel'tak to do battle with the enemy forces in orbit."

"Has the enemy been identified yet?" I ask, forcing down the grimace of the thought of blood to be shed for and in my name. It wouldn't do to look weak before those who wanted to worship me.

"We do not know. There are no sigil or insignia that can be identified belonging to any Goa'uld in particular," replied the Marshal regretfully. "Nevertheless, Jaffa have orders to capture ranking captains and commanders for interrogation. We will find out who attacks us so brazenly."

I almost pitied those Jaffa leaders coming down to my planet. Almost.

-

Jaffa Commander Gorak drew in a breath of the cold morning air as he watched dozens of Jaffa rush out of the transport's doors. The ship had landed just outside the defensive perimeter of the vast research complex that lay outside the city from which Iah ruled. Their deathglider escorts had been forced to engage the forces of Iah's older, open-cockpit udajeet gliders, leaving his warriors without air cover.

It did not matter overmuch. The enemy Jaffa that defended the walls were few in number and his Jaffa marched by the thousands. Two transports meant he had at least two thousand Jaffa ready to storm the walls.

Gorak gave the warriors around him an evaluating eye and nodded in approval as they formed lines twelve bodies deep. The first four lines were equipped with large heart-shaped shields made of naquadah, to protect the siege engineers so they may breach the wall. And past it lay the research structures, staffed by the brightest minds that Iah had taught. His God decreed that they would be taken to serve Him as well; though their loyalty to Iah was most likely without peer, they would soon find Him a better patron.

He did not question as to how his God knew where the wall's weak points were, the number of troops there were, or their battle plans in case of attack. His god's ways were beyond mortal ken, what need did mere Jaffa have to know how their god knew? The commander had faith and that was all he needed.

First, the line of shields. He watched Jaffa strap the shields to their forearm and line up in formation. Behind them, Jaffa raised their Ma'tok staves and held them with the middle of the shaft upon their shoulders. They would fire behind the shield line with impunity. Genius! No other Jaffa in all of the Empire had such impenetrable defenses!

Unfortunately, there was an incline, forcing the Jaffa to move far slower than he'd like. Gorak knew how time sensitive his mission was and urged his forces to move faster.

The walls themselves were fairly tall, at least some ten meters high, made of stone and metal, with no gatehouse to be seen anywhere. The only way in was through air, but with the staff cannons active, there would be no way to land troops directly within. Hence the siege engineers. Twenty Jaffa had been trained in the delicate and brutal art of transporting extremely volatile explosive charges to a defensive line and detonating it.

Their life expectancy, unsurprisingly, was not very high. Gorak had yet to meet one that survived past their first deployment.

A shot of gold struck the shield, pushing the Jaffa behind it back ever so slightly. His jackal helm's eyes narrowed and Gorak peered through the and high above on the battlements, he could see dozens of Jaffa in slim silvery armor, their faces concealed behind masks. Their staff weapons were long and strangely built. Several had very bulky staff weapons that fired a quickly, almost as though there were a dozen Jaffa firing one after another!

The warriors above fired and the shields resisted the shots like a leaf would resist a drop of rain.

Gorak rallied his jaffa onwards and they obliged him, slowly creeping forwards under the hail of bolts striking their shields.

Confidence bloomed inside him as he felt the weapons splash uselessly against his shield wall.

Hidden between ranks, the six teams of siege engineers crept alongside them, carrying a dozen spheres on their person; bombs made from highly purified weapons-grade naquadah. Each one had to be activated and armed by hand before a countdown to detonation, giving the engineers at least a chance at survival.

Ma'tok staff heads poked out from beneath the shields and they began to return fire at the defenders above. Most of it was inaccurate, but it served to keep Iah's jaffa suppressed.

There was a loud 'WHUMP' that caught their attention. Gorak watched as three glowing objects arced high like small comets above Iah's walls

And then they fell, picking up speed as they raced towards his formation.

"Spread out!" He shouted as dread and fear bloomed up within him. Around him, the Jaffa obeyed without question, spreading out as fast as they could with the shieldbearers protecting them. Gorak dived to the ground as the first sphere struck the ground in the midst of the Jaffa.

Even spread out as they were, the impact still launched Jaffa into the air. There was smoke, heat, and the screams of dying Jaffa.

There was another 'WHUMP' from behind the walls, but Goran could see no staff cannons adorning the walls. He was quick enough to understand the implications, however. Iah's magic gave him cannons that did not need any line of sight to strike his enemies. Such a weapon would render his army's shields and tactics irrelevant.

"Forward!" He roared, picking up a shield and running towards the walls. Around him, scattered pockets of Jaffa ran with him.

Bolts of gold picked off the Jaffa as three more fiery comets landed and exploded in the middle of the charge. Bodies and limbs were flung into the air as Goran urged his increasingly tattered forces onwards.

Miraculously, all the siege engineers survived the charge, dozens of jaffa giving their lives to protect them and their sacred cargo. Even as three more barrages of arcing staff cannon fire and an unending rain of fire from the walls reduced their army significantly.

They were close enough that he could see the Jaffa in their strange armor atop the walls and hear their shouts. The walls were only a few dozen meters away and twenty Jaffa bounded forward, separating from the ranks. Each consisted of three Jaffa shieldbearers and two siege engineers underneath them.

Fire from above concentrated on these, cratering the ground as they ran on, heedless of the danger. Two teams made it to the foot of the wall, forcing the defending Jaffa to lean forward from behind the battlements, exposing themselves just to be able to fire at the sappers.

Goran barked a command and the ragged line of Jaffa fired their staves from behind the shieldbearers. This time their aim was true and many defenders were struck down.

The surviving engineers cried something out, and Gorak's heart rose as they ran back towards the shield-line. The defenders, however, opened fire swiftly, massacring the vulnerable sappers from behind.

Moments later, two dozen naquadah grenades exploded. There was a clap of thunder that sent the Jaffa sprawling, ears ringing and eyes crossed.

As Gorak came too, he shook his head to try and dislodge the dust all over his head, only to regret it when white hot pain along his back nearly made him pass out. His jackal helm had been torn away, leaving his face exposed to the grit and elements. He grit his teeth and forced himself to stand. All around him, the Jaffa with him were in a similar state; alive but very disorientated.

But their hearts soared when they laid eyes on the walls.

Or rather what was left of them. The battlements were gone and a great deep hole had been carved out. Wordlessly, their commander staggered forwards and behind him his fellow Jaffa followed.

Meters thick armor and stone had been blasted apart, shattering a great deal of the first layer. The gap narrowed as it deepened, but it was still wide open, large enough for ten Jaffa abreast..

A feeling of triumph coursed through Gorak. The walls had been breached, his men still were numbered by the hundreds. The defenders had but two options: Surrender or die.

"Jaffa kree!" He roared, grinning bloodily. "The walls have fallen! The warrior of Iah are scattered! Take this place for our God!"

The Jaffa howl in approval, streaming through the breach.

Gorak joined the wave of bodies and saw the prizes his God wished so greatly to acquire.

A squat pyramid sat in the center of the plain, with several small short walls and warehouses were scattered around it. A dozen pillars of varying height and shape stood tall before him, golden spheres with a stubby head of the ma'tok staff weapon protruding out of the center.

Far in the distance, three squat round platforms held an engorged stubby staff cannon the size of a jaffa. All three were aimed towards him. Gorak felt a chill as the spheres atop the pillars swiveled with soft whines.

"Jaffa kree-!" He raised a gauntlet and pointed at the pillars. To their credit, many Jaffa swiftly aimed at his target and began firing.

Jaffa Commander Gorak had no way of knowing that he had led his warriors straight into a killzone, one that none would be able to leave. The spheres spat a stream of golden bolts into the mass of bodies, cutting Jaffa down like a farmer would scythe down stalks of wheat.

He himself took six blasts to the torso, the superheated dense plasma bolts punching through his armor and chainmail instantly. He died with his eyes wide with fear and horror.

His Jaffa, once triumphant and victorious, quickly gave in to the same fear and horror that their commander had realized. They tried to retreat back through the breach, but the hail of fire from the pillars made that impossible.

To make matters worse, the army was still trying to push through the breach, leading to more confusion and death.

In the distance, the cannons that had laid waste to so much of their army previously fired.

Three comets trailed waste plasma as they struck the morass of Jaffa, incinerating dozens in their wake and injuring hundreds more before they detonated within their ranks. Bodies were flung dozens of feet into the air while yet more Jaffa were cut down by the repeaters.

Some of the shieldbearers had enough sense to form a new wall as they desperately tried to withdraw, but the unending stream of plasma bolts from the pillars slowly ate through their shields.

After a minute of endless firing, the repeaters fell silent, their flat prongs white hot with heat. The smell of ozone and burnt meat was almost overwhelming.

One of the spheres atop the pillars split open like petals of a flower. A Jaffa clad in silver armor peered down at the field of bodies littered before him. He scanned the scene before him twice before tapping the side of his helm.

"Confirmed, no survivors," said the Jaffa tonelessly. "Your orders Marshal?"

"Find the body of the commander." Came the old Jaffa's voice through the comlink. "I will interrogate him. Remain on alert until otherwise commanded."

"Acknowledged."

The Jaffa looked down at the bodies and grimaced within his helmet. There were a lot of bodies to look through for that commander.

-

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

“Take my love, take my land, take me to where I cannot stand I don’t care, I’m still free, you can’t take the sky from me…”
- Unofficial motto of Jaffa pilots in service of the Goa’uld Iah

Doran felt a shiver of satisfaction run down his spine as his hands gripped the control sphere, his glider responding instantly. This was what it was meant to be, to truly fly! The young man never felt more free, never more joyful, as he soared through the skies and watched the blue and white recede to that of black and the glinting of thousands of distant stars.

He would do anything to stay like this forever.

When his God came to the barracks, he spoke of searching for the best Jaffa to fly his gliders. Hundreds of Jaffa were tested and thrown through trials of fire.

Iah, God of knowledge and magic, gave them the power of flight and all the fearsome power that came with it. Their Gliders were stronger, faster, and better. Into those worthy, they found themselves able to extend control over their weapons and powers of flight, each thought responded to in instants. Every time they took the air, Iah improved their very essence to better fight in his name and glory. In repayment, they gave him their worship and unbending faith.

Only the dozens that remained were considered worthy to ride the Gliders he had built specifically for their skill.

And how they soared! Were it not for the weakness of the flesh, they would fly forever.

It was all he and his brothers and sisters did, if not for lack of trying. They trained, flew, ate, flew, rested, and then flew some more. They craved for the time where Iah would allow them to simply fly forever, soaring through the skies and the sea of stars.

In time, Doran was shown targets to destroy and goals to achieve. New gliders were built and with it, he could fly them faster as though he were one with it. The old gliders were slow in comparison and their frame fragile. These new wings given to him were sleeker and thinner, swept back to allow for greater agility and movement in the skies.

And how he could soar in them! Even the Udajeet, the glider made for flying only upon worlds, could not match his wing’s speed and maneuverability.

Then Iah gave him weapons to carry, weapons that spoke harshly and quickly. Almost too quickly, in fact.

But they served him well, and Doran relished in this task. He and his brothers flew faster, hit quicker, all with greater grace.

And when the Gods decided to test his faith, he relished the challenge and charged forwards head on.

Enemy gliders seemed slower and more ungainly, moving almost sluggishly in his sights. A mere thought was all he needed and the weapons of his craft spat out a dozen bolts of fiery death. Only two were needed to shatter the inferior craft before him, leaving behind only smoke and debris.

Around him, he and his brothers cut into the enemy glider wings. Though the enemy were many, their craft were slower and unable to turn as quickly; nor were their weapons as effective. Two, six, soon their kills were up to over two dozen with no casualties on their part.

All too soon, he had carved a path through the swarms, and set his sights on his primary target; an Al’kesh bomber.

His Glider banked left, taking only a second to roll about to avoid a trio of blasts from the bomber’s guns. Even now Doran could barely believe this kind of speed and maneuverability was possible for a Glider. Oh how the Jaffa in the service of the other Goa’uld must be astonished; for he was one with his craft, and it flew in the face of all the enemy could have ever known of their ken.

The bomber’s belly turret fired desperately at his glider. A thought was all he needed to avoid certain destruction, even as he replied in kind. A short burst of sustained fire stitched it’s way across the ship’s fuselage. Another burst found it’s mark on the weakened armor plating and broke through.

The rear engines flickered and died. A moment later the entire section exploded spectacularly as the ship’s fuel cells ignited.

Doran mentally added the bomber’s demise to his kill streak and grinned as he found another target to hunt.

-

High above the battle over the capital city of Dashani, Marshal Ka’tarn sneered at the Cheops on the main screen before him. The battle was going well and for that alone, he knew Iah would be pleased. He stood next to the Jaffa commanding helm of the Chel’tak and barked out an order. Ka’tarn

“Intensify forward firepower!”

“By your command,” replied the Jaffa manning the comms immediately, hands on the blue control spheres, as he relayed the order to the gunners.

Outside of the Chel’tak’s pyramid, three triple pronged turrets stopped their barrage for a second. That second passed and their prongs glowed gold-white. A moment later, nine iridescent gold bolts shot out in three separate volleys.

The first two volleys impacted the pyramid ship’s shields, collapsing them with their combined might. The last three bolts struck the ship’s forwardmost hull, splitting them apart as naquadah and metal panels melted and shattered under the onslaught. The pyramid turned, presenting a fresh unblemished side of armor plating as it’s dozens of light staff cannons opened fire in a staggering volley of bolts.

Volume of fire notwithstanding, the Chel’tak seemed content to simply absorb of fusillade of cannon fire impacting it’s golden shield. Ka’tarn grinned savagely as his command ship continued it’s advance.

All three turrets swiveled, adjusted their aim, and fired.

A hole formed and the entire face of the pyramid crumpled inwards as all nine plasma bolts bored into and through the layers of armor plating that made up the starboard side of the Cheops.

Watching the enemy vessel break up in a series of explosions created a warm feeling in Ka’tarn’s chest, a sense of pride that he ruthlessly quashed. The battle was not over yet, after all.

“Helm!” roared the Marshal from his throne, “Come about and make haste! Target the next ship and charge! For honor! For glory! And-”

“For Iah!” cried out the crew, their faces tightening in resolve.

-

Underlord Mo’ti grit his teeth as he watched one of his ships take a crippling blow from Iah’s siege ship. That was one of his precious few ships he would not be getting back.

“The Grasping Hand has lost all power! They are falling! The enemy Chel’tak is ascending towards us!” Reported one of the Jaffa at the helm.

“What of the Jaffa at the laboratory, is there any word of their success?” Mot’ti demanded, his hands tightening on the armrests of his throne.

‘Or failure’ came the voice of despair as he watched the Cheops below fragment and Iah’s warship rise to greet him with cannon fire.

“No word yet.” came the most unsatisfactory reply as the ship shook.

The Underlord descended into an uncomfortable silence as he regarded all his options. No report from Commander Gorak may as well mean failure, even with virtually all his best troops being sent down to secure an otherwise lightly defended research base. And most of his remaining gliders and Al’kesh were busy besieging Iah’s city and keeping most of the enemy forces distracted.

But he had underestimated the sheer force of power that Iah’s warships were capable of. Traditionally, Cheops were lightly armored and covered in numerous staff cannons, they were speedy and could dance around heavier ships. Chel’tak siege vessels were notoriously slow and resistant to maneuvering with their heavy armor, shields, and weapons, hence why they were often paired with Cheops to provide support.

That was how both ships had been for the last several thousand years. Only the Ha’tak Mothership could boast heavy armaments and retain the speed and maneuverability without sacrificing armor and shields.

He should have seen this coming, so now he paid the price for his lack of foresight.

Iah’s versions were both faster and capable of maneuvering swiftly, even in the upper atmosphere. They hit harder and their shields were capable of absorbing any amount of light staff cannon fire, no matter how numerous.

As the both of his ships opened fire on the rapidly approaching warships, Mot’ti pondered on his options. He could still overwhelm the research base with additional reinforcements… the reserve force of one thousand Jaffa would be able to supplement Gorak’s surviving forces, if he was even alive, and then the technologies he’d salvage from this mess would allow him to still ascend the hierarchy.

If his remaining gliders and Al’kesh could suppress Iah’s foot soldiers and prevent them from moving to the research base, then he might be able to make it.

But first, that would require his victory in space, and two Cheops could not defeat the forces arrayed against him. And though it grated him to use his reserves now, Mot’ti knew he would most assuredly die if he did not.

“Have the Cradle leave hyperspace and join the flagship. Order the Serpent’s Wrath to engage the Chel’tak. Stall them long enough so this ship can join with the Cradle.”

“At once, my lord!” cried out his First Prime.

His secret weapon emerged from hyperspace just as the Wrath turned towards the Chel’tak and pelted it with a continuous stream of cannon fire, rotating constantly to spread the damage and prevent a critical strike it’s sister ship had suffered. His flagship quickly altered its trajectory to intercept the star-like superstructure speeding towards Dashani.

It took over a hundred years to scrape together enough naquadah and metal in order to build the Cradle, in order to give his forces a chance against others who held enough power to built a Ha’tak of their own. As the Cheops slid into the empty middle section, Mot’ti’s confidence bloomed. His flagship now resembled the modern Ha’tak, except perhaps quite a bit smaller and less well armed.

Nevertheless, he now boasted the firepower to defeat Iah’s upgraded craft, his victory would be assured.

He was about to order the Serpent’s Wrath to turn away when the pyramid’s lights shut off and the ship began drifting.

“Serpent’s Wrath has lost main power,” came the unnecessary report.

“No matter,” replied Mot’ti with a growl. “Engage docking clamps and raise secondary shields. Then target those ships and destroy them!”

He sat back into his command throne and watched intently as the Chel’tak and it’s accompanying Cheops opened fire. Where their attacks would have destroyed his ship, the new connection between his craft and the Cradle now allowed him an unbreakable defense.

“Returning fire.” Said the Jaffa.

Heavy staff cannons fired, more numerous than the Chel’tak could ever hope to bare. The Goa’uld felt a sense of deep satisfaction as a steady barrage struck the smaller ship’s shields and carefully melted it away.

The forces of Iah must have sensed the tide turn, for they began to immediately retreat in force, leaving behind only a harassing force of Al’kesh and gliders, all of which were incapable of defeating his newly empowered mothership.

“The cowards flee.”

“Let them try to run, they won’t get far.” He smiled and leaned back into his throne. “Disable them and let them watch in complete and total impotence.”

His First Prime nodded, grinning. “As you command, my lord.”

Victory never felt so good as watching those damnable ships break under fire. Oh yes, he would enjoy this.

-

Distantly, far below the battle in high orbit was a mountain range. Only wildlife inhabited the mountain range and what precious few humans called it home, lived deep within the mountains themselves.

One mountain in particular bore a great concentration of such people, all of whom were builders and learned men who worshipped a God of Thought and Innovation. And in their hands, they held a great power.

Such power was evident as the very mountains burst open, their rocky sides parting, and a great pillar of gold rose from the hollow recess within.

To the naked eye, the pillar was a long narrow teardrop with a rounded bottom stretched out to challenge the skies at a narrow point. Slowly, ponderously the needle-like tip split in three and the pillar became three prongs centered around a spherical center. Lightning bolts jumped from pylon to pylon, intensifying with each passing second.

Slowly, and painfully, the entire structure dipped and shifted, turning on it’s axis as barely constrained energies crackled along the prongs, collecting into the center of the sphere.

The crackling storm of energy disappeared for a moment.

The afternoon became dawn for another second as an enormous lance of brightest white shot out into the sky.

-

The battle had turned against them, Marshal Ka’tarn was helpless in his command ship and only he and his gliders stood against the newly converted mothership.

Then came the order to disengage. The Jaffa obeyed and pulled back as Iah unveiled a great and terrible weapon of last resort.

Doran watched in fascination as a great lance of brightest white and blue shot out from the surface of Danashi. It struck the enemy mothership magnificently and he felt great relief as it’s shields flickered and died. The energy coursed across the ship’s hull, lights flickering, weapons sputtering. He watched with baited breath as all the light died.

The Jaffa had just breathed a sigh of relief, elation at the victory, when those very same lights slowly returned. He watched in abject horror when the shields visibly came to life, enclosing the mothership in it’s protection before fading away.

“Wing Commander Doran,” came the voice of Marshal Ka'tarn over the comms from the drifting Chel'tak, "The Great Weapon was only partially successful in its strike upon the enemy mothership. It’s weapons have been disabled and it’s engines are damaged. Take your glider wing and delay it for as long as possible.”

The Jaffa nodded, only to remember the Marshal could not see him acknowledge and spoke in reply. “By your command.”

“Kree, Jaffa! This is your commander, we must weaken the enemy and buy time for the Great Weapon to strike down the mothership once and for all!” He banked his glider starboard, gunning the engines to maximum speed. “All squadrons, overcharge your weapons and break their shields. Once they have fallen, Gold squadron will target weapons, Silver will destroy their shields permanently, Azure and Crimson will target their hangar bays and engines.”

“By your command!” Shouted all four squadrons as one.

Doran glanced at his HUD and saw his wing forming up alongside and around him. Inwardly, he felt a warm ball of satisfaction; despite being outnumbered three to one, all eighty of his Deathgliders survived the battle.

And now they would take part in this mission. Perhaps even add this mothership to their list of kills.

Speaking of which, the descending underbelly of the mothership slowly filled up his vision. Despite knowing full well that it’s weapons were disabled, the Jaffa commander could not help but feel a sense of trepidation of his task.

After all, gliders were traditionally not able to fight Ha’taks, even one as ramshackle as this foe.

Then again, Doran though, he and his were most decidedly not traditional in any sense of the word.

His hands gripped the control sphere and the prongs of his glider’s underslung staff weapon glowed bright. A meter out of the corner of his eye quickly began to rise until it flashed a blinking red. A sharp beeping sound gave him the notice that there was a confirmed lock on target.

“Fire!”

Dozens of bright bolts shot out from the Gliders in a spectacular wave of ordnance. They impacted the mothership’s golden shields, each bolts creating a ripple like raindrops falling into a pristine lake. Each shot was over a hundred times more powerful than what a single ordinary shot a Glider’s weapon was normally capable of. And that shield could only take so much after so little time to rest from the Great Weapon’s touch.

The shield held.

Around him, Doran felt more than saw his gliders bank away in a single graceful move, squadrons splitting off like shoals of fish. They came at the mothership again, staff weapons charging.

Again, they fired a wave of bolts.

This time, the shield broke.

“The day is our’s!” Doran roared into his comms, amidst the cheers of his wingmen. “All squadrons, proceed onto your attack runs! Destroy this foe and return home in with honor and glory!”

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

Targon watched, silently pleased, his Jaffa warriors stood their ground beside him on the wall, steadfast against the raider's push.

They had already withdrawn from the first defensive line due to how quick and concentrated the invader's initial thrust had been. Now the raiding Jaffa had brought sappers, fanatical warriors armed with powerful bombs to break down their fortifications.

To devote so many seasoned and dedicated warriors solely to this diversion, this distraction, Targon remarked to himself in thought, was risky at best. Whoever had sent this force here must have wanted his God's secrets very desperately.

Golden plasma bolts struck the walls with violent cracks of fire and smoke, as the Marshal's forces fire upon the Jaffa.

Sappers threw themselves into the fray, running headlong into fire as their escorts desperately protected them with heavy shields and their very lives.

"Sappers! Sappers!" A cry went up among the defenders as they shifted their fire to the group of fanatics running towards the wall. The Marshal watched the enemy sappers approach with apprehension as he pulled the trigger of his staff weapon frantically, lobbing shot after shot into the group.

One of the foremost Jaffa fell, the shield wielder's corpse tripping the entire group and sending them sprawling over each other. Plasma bolts peppered their bodies until there was a and the sound of thunder echoed across the battlements. Almost at the same time, another explosion, much closer, shook the wall and sent Jaffa reeling.

Targon shielded his eyes as he found himself on his back, blinking away tears as his ears rang. A Jaffa stood above him, the butt of his staff weapon braced against his sholder, it's long shaft crackling with energy as it emitted blast after blast. The man was shouting, but no voice came from his mouth. A bolt of gold struck him, sending the young soldier reeling and falling to his knees. Targon forced himself to stand shook the ringing away, and raised his own weapon. The butt of the weapon rested comfortably against the inside of his shoulder as he aimed down it's iron sights to the fields of battle.

The explosion had left the enemy army reeling as well, moreso given that they did not have the benefit of fortifications to lessen the disorientation that followed.

There was enormous crater that a group of sappers and their escorts had left, not far from the walls themselves, another three such craters had been stitched across the ground. Each was uncomfortably closer than a the last.

He cast his eyes across and saw the enemy wavering. Though they outnumbered him by more than half, they were also stymied and slowed. Setback after setback had demoralized them and this only further accenutated that failure. Several rows of Jaffa inched forwards, shields in hand, preparing to charge.

"Mortar teams! Prepare!" He roared.

Captains heard their Marshal's cry and began echoing his command. Some dozen soldiers in light mail and plate carried out their heavy weapons, laying them atop mounted tripods to aid in aiming.

The Marshal had been loathed to use them at the beginning of battle; they were heavy, unwieldy, and there was little ammunition available for every crew. He knew if he had used them on the lesser wall, they may well have been abandoned. But now the enemy were preparing for one final charge and these would the means to break them.

"Ready!" Said one pair, their hands on the short bulbous oval. Three petals separated, their pylons crackling of bright electrical arcs.

A low roar echoed as the enemy forces began their charge, shields raised in front of them as they ran forward with reckless abandon. Thousands of Jaffa ran at a steady pace, their armor glittering in the afternoon sun as they effortlessly formed an enormous shield wall that readily absorbed any plasma bolt that impacted it.

"Take aim!"

The crackling seemed to intensify as the crews adjusted their sights and held their breath.

Targon took a breath and held it, eyes pressed against the farsight view within his helm. He caught a glimpse of white from between the cracks between shields, minuscule and full of fear.

"Fire!"

A series of dull 'whump' sounds signaled dozens of superheated high mass plasma bolts leaving their pylons. They resembled head-sized comets of white-gold, a wisp of waste heat and gas trailing behind it to complete the image. Having fired at such a low angle, the bolts did not arc; instead they impacted the ground right in front of the oncoming mass of shielded Jaffa.

The shield wall shattered where the mortar blasts fell, sending dismembered bodies flying into the air over the heads of their comrades. The charge faltered and began to slow as the nearby soldiers were disorientated and unable to comprehend what had just happened. Jaffa captains shouted, desperately trying to regain control, to urge their subordinates to ignore their confusion and continue the charge.

The crews had recharged their mortars in record time, swapping out the heat sink for a new one seconds after they had fired their weapon. The crackling filled the wall as they aimed for the untouched portions of the slowed charge.

"Take aim!" Targon and his captains shouted.

Using a combination of threats and promises of reward, the Jaffa pushed forwards again. But this time, their formation is ragged, with some parts further ahead than the rest. Others fell out of formation entirely, seemingly moving separately or in even smaller groups.

"Fire!"

The second salvo propelled themselves at the army, leaving the harsh smell of ozone and rippling trails of heat in their wake. Explosions across the enemy line once again wracked their numbers.

This time they broke and no amount of threats of divine punishment could deter the broken enemy from attempting their escape. The Marshal signaled for the crews to recharge and fire their last shot before tapping his comlink to the other captains.

"Pursue the invaders! Take your assigned skiffs and hunt them down before they reach the forest!" Said Targon over the channel. "Take as many alive as possible, especially enemy commanders! Go!"

"By your command!" Chorused the captains.

-

Gelmar ran as fast as he could. He had long since discarded the heavy shield in his haste to run back to the transport. He ran past the still smoldering husks of comrades and friends, doggedly ignoring the screams of pain behind him. His breath, long since winded during the charge, came in sharp short gasps. It was his luck he had joined this raiding force, it was his luck that he was one of those in the rearguard and with the best chance to survive this ordeal.

The faintest sounds of zat'nik'tel discharge told him that the Jaffa of Iah were at least possibly looking to capture, rather than kill. A small mercy.

But a second shot would kill, and he had no desire to find out if they were pulling the trigger a second time.

All around him, desperate and weary Jaffa ran towards the forest from whence their ship had deposited them in. With hope, it was still there, waiting. If nothing else, they could lose Iah's forces there and hopefully find a way to survive.

A low drone filled the air and Gelmar dared to look back.

Golden skiffs descended from above carrying Jaffa baring Iah's silver and white colors, gripping zat'nik'tels at the ready. Soon, all around him, his comrades began to fall.

Almost there... Just a little closer! The treeline was close, he could make it!

A tingle on the back of his neck was all the warning he had. Without thinking, the Jaffa veteran threw himself to the side and narrowly avoided a blue electrical blast of painful stunning energy. Forcing his legs to keep moving, the Jaffa practically threw himself into the woods, avoiding another blast of lightning on his heels. Gelmar heard the shouts of frustration of Iah's Jaffa and grinned to himself.

Moving deeper into the forest, the Jaffa began to harbor hope he may be able to escape.

He felt a sharp pain on the back of his head and found himself on his back, stars in his eyes. He tried to stand, only for the familiar crackle of a ma'tok head splitting open right above his face to stop him. Gelmar shook the stars from his eyes and looked up, with surprise and fear, at the old Jaffa standing above him with a wide smile. He swallowed thickly and raised his hands in surrender as more figures in white and silver armor began to appear.

"Good choice." said Ra'nor with an indulgent smile. "Now get up, prisoner. I am a hundred and twenty years old and it is rude to make an old man wait."

-

"Why are we still under attack by these pests?!" Mot'ti demanded, fist pounding the armrest of his throne. "Destroy them at once!"

The bridge shook violently as another blast hit far too close. His First Prime grimaced as the light of the control spheres in his hands flickered. "Enemy gliders continue to damage the shield emitters! Every time the shields return, they are too weak to resist the damage they sustain!"

A glider across the pel'tak's main viewscreen, it's weapons firing as it strafed his ship's superstructure, stitching a steady line of burning craters. The craft pivoted almost effortlessly and sent a stream of fire at another subsystem.

The Goa'uld Lord couldn't help but silent scream in frustration.

"My lord!" Said his First Prime, all reluctant to again be a bearer of more bad news.

"What?!"

"The Jaffa sent to assault the city have been defeated." Said the First Prime, grimacing. "I am also detecting multiple weapons locks on the ship from the city."

Mot'ti clenched his fists and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Nevertheless, fear motivated him to continue on this course, no matter the cause. "We cannot return empty-handed. Move the ship to the research facility and land on top of it. Scraps are better than nothing and it's destruction should at least please Apophis."

His faithful First Prime nodded diligently. "As you command, my lord."

If I cannot have Apophis' prize, then I can at least deny it to Iah. It is at least something that can be salvaged from this - There was a violent shudder that seemed to reverberate all across his vessel and the mothership lurched forwards in sudden vertigo.

"What is happening?!" Mot'ti Demanded, holding onto his throne for dear life.

"There is something wrong with the main reactor, I don't know what -"

There was a shudder and with the shriek of tearing metal, the pel'tak's display simply shattered. The Goa'uld watched on in horror as his Jaffa were torn out of the room and into the open sky. Desperately, he tried to hold onto the armrests of his throne as his very ship tore itself apart in the skies above Dashani.

Mot'ti screamed he was ripped through the jagged hole of the pel'tak of his ship.

-

There were many things that Seshat and Melia had been afraid of, working for Iah. Their identity being revealed, the Tok’Ra communicator being found, their efforts being discovered, and their assassination… one of which had come to pass, in a terrifying moment of pain and sudden darkness, enveloping everything in a choking blanket,

Sirens wailing in the distance, Seshat stared into the holographic display of the palace’s war room, and realized that she had never truly considered planetary invasion.

She had seen plenty of barbarism from the Goa’uld, but the last several years had changed her perspective. Three invading Cheops, deathgliders and al’kesh raining fire upon the civilians, and Jaffa marching against her System Lord… and all Seshat could think was how much paperwork it would cause her.

There was a blast somewhere in the city, and she felt the tiniest tremble in the ground. But Iah’s palace had no dust to fall from the ceiling, and there was no second rumble, as the central holodisplay showed one of Iah’s modified fighters chasing down the offending deathglider and driving it from his skies with a hail of precise blasts.

“Commander Na’tir reports, my lord,” one of the Jaffa called out, striding into the control room. “The facility’s walls were breached, but the enemy was repelled completely.”

“How many fled?” Iah boomed, his voice falling into the commanding tones of a Goa’uld lord.

“My lord…” the Jaffa paused, as if not sure how to answer. “None, my lord Iah. They were struck down as they charged; there were no survivors.”

She waited, looking across the holodisplay, waited for that one sign of arrogance, of pleasure, of pride… and as every time before, Iah failed to meet them. The System Lord’s face was muted and still, and after a few moments, he dismissed the messenger with a simple nod.

Iah looked back at the holodisplay, his eyes so focused on the tableau of violence that he did not see her, directly across and in front of him, looking back in concern.

And wasn’t that a shock, to who she had been just a few years before? Concern, for a System Lord.

Not a System Lord, Melia whispered to her, her presence like warm silk against cold parchment. A man that feels guilt just as heavily as we do.

Seshat brushed Melia aside with the ease of long practice. Even if she was right, now wasn’t the time to confront those strange thoughts that danced in her belly; there were dozens of things that demanded Iah’s attention, much less her own. Those feelings were not important right now, no matter how Melia kept bringing them up, trying to push them along.

A moment’s pause, then Seshat slipped away from her position at the table, walking carefully between the watchful eyes of the Jaffa guards even here, and moved to Iah’s side.

The System Lord so favored by Ra was not moving; his body locked in place by will alone as he scanned the holodisplay’s updates and information. But… no, that wasn’t true. Iah’s eyes were not moving, he was not reading. Seshat reached out, slowly, as if to not startle an animal, and placed her slender hand on Iah’s shoulder.

But still, Iah did not move, did not notice. Her hand slipped lower, and she could feel his arm tensed; he was squeezing his body in exertion, and it was moving ever so slightly, not even noticeable to the eye. Shivering, trembling… but Iah refused to show it.

Not so immune to the horrors of war as he liked so show, she realized. Not so cool and collected as he presented to his Jaffa, the image of the noble System Lord, dispassionate and sterile, like some of his creations. The Goa’uld that watched with cold eyes as his weapons mowed down targets with horrifying brutal efficiency, the monster which had frightened her, was nothing more than a front. An illusion that Iah put on, like an elaborate gown before he entered Ra’s court.

With a nod of understanding, Seshat withdrew her hand. Iah did not notice.

Look, Melia whispered. Not at him, look at us.

Seshat paused, and lifted her hand up in front of her, looking down at it.

Her hand was trembling as well, so slightly that she had not noticed.

“The glider squadrons have succeeded, my lord. The enemy mothership has been destroyed!” cried another Jaffa, clad in the gilded plate of the elite guard, pointing at some of the glowing glyphs on the holodisplay.

Cheers erupted throughout the command center, like the howls of victorious wolves. The Jaffa beat fist upon breast, and a chanting, rhythmic song of victory began to echo through the halls as countless Jaffa began to sing. Their words roared through the now-open communications networks, bouncing between the stonework and concrete of the apartment blocks.

She flinched instinctively, unable to hide her reaction at the sound of that howl; familiar as it was to any slave, any rebel… but the song was different. Not a song of Iah’s glory, or the death of their enemy. It was a song of home; a song hailing Dashani. They praised its beauty, vowing defense forevermore. A slow, rolling victory hymn.

Iah looked up and finally met her eyes. There was no sign of a triumphant conqueror or a sadistic monster in his gaze. Nothing but relief, as if a great burden had been lifted from him.

Spoiler: Author's Note

Xeno Major was responsible for the last part of this update.

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

There were no repercussions from the raid that could be visibly felt. Iah appeared to have known full well that there would be no true backlash for the likes of Apophis. It could not be proven that it had been the Serpent God was the one responsible nor could he be reliably linked to as the Underlord Mot'ti has perished wholesale along with all of his personal Jaffa and his makeshift mothership.

Many of the foreign Jaffa that had been brought to the field of battle were taken from other minor Goa'uld, impressed into an army for the Underlord for this very brief campaign. Iah had many interrogated in a vain attempt to learn more of his enemy, but the story had always been the same; Mot'ti ended their masters swiftly and took their allegiance by force.

Dashani had suffered the rigors of battle, but she had emerged victorious. The perpetrators had failed in their objective, whatever it may have been, and the Jaffa defenders would suffer no true loss under their patron god. None of Iah's worshipers had died and many would praise him for their survival in the face of such a sudden attack.

From Ra's personal forces, additional soldiers and ships were sent to guard Ra's prized scientist and the continued security of the crown jewel that was Dashani.

In the wake of the battle's end, however, Iah had decreed the construction of new defensive works. Flaws in the current defenses had been noted and considered by the Moon God, so new walls and towers were added to the city and beyond. Weapons he had devised from the testing grounds further west of the city were recreated and placed liberally across the defensive lines drawn around the citadels and the walls. New forts and outposts soon became the cornerstone of a great city expansion.

- Records of the First Battle of Dashani


-


The Soldier In Training

Anul breathed in great deep breaths, the drills finished for the day. The Battlemaster had taken great pleasure in using the zat'nik'tel on some of the other recruits before teaching them how to carry them to safety; either through a carrying technique or an improvised stretcher. At least one team had a shoddy stretcher that broke and dropped their unconscious comrade onto the ground, resulting in a head wound that simply bled everywhere.

The entire line of Jaffa had been stopped and forced to endure holding their unconscious comrades (those who were foolish enough to awaken were shot with the zat'nik'tel again) while the Battlemaster had the bleeding fellow taken away for healing and verbally punished the poor fools into tears.

That had been almost two hours ago. By the time they had arrived to an open ground near the forest, everyone was bone tired and ready to collapse.

Sweat poured off his brow as he struggled to steady himself. Around him other recruits suffered as he did, but none faltered. As his breathing steadied, the former potter's apprentice picked himself up and leaned against his staff. His armor did little to add to his comfort, but at least he could stand and not waver with the full plate on his person.

The battlemaster had decreed that the entire battalion was to camp out in the forest and to set up their sleep rotations. To no one's surprise, the battlemaster had disappeared to presumably prepare more sadism for the following day.

He grabbed the 'pack' assigned to him and quickly rummaged through it with deft hands. A canteen and a small thin rectangular box made of embossed metal with engraved markings were pulled out. Anul found a seat on a log and stared at the engraving on the box with hungry eyes.

'Curried Pigeon Stew'

Two Jaffa approach him, their meal boxes in hand. Anul looked up with a questioning look.

"We have come to trade." Said one, gesturing to the bar of chocolate in his hand and the roll of jellies in his comrade's. He pulled out several packets of carefully looked after pastries and saw their eyes light up. Anul pointed to the jellies and the chocolate. "Have you got more of those?

Both Jaffa look at each other and then the haggling began.


-


The Jaffa at the Range

A breath in.

A squeeze of the trigger.

The streak of energy struck the fast moving target with a crackle of energy. With nary a sound, the false Jaffa warrior crumpled bonelessly to the ground, staff weapon falling out of it's pale white hands. Six more appear, this time crouched in the foliage, their white expressionless faces staring straight towards his position.

Ka'nel shifted his aim, peering into the magnificent eyepiece atop his rifle. The sight magnified about ten times with a simple flick of his finger and he laid his eye on the closest Jaffa.

Breathe in.

The gel-like face of the target Jaffa shook with a satisfying jiggle as the bolt struck it square in the face as the young man instantly shifted his aim and fired two more bolts, each striking another target in the head. The other three, already slow in reaction, began running, each in a different direction.

Breathe out. Quietly, as he shot the legs out of one of the False Jaffa, Ka'nel marveled at how easy the weapon was to handle. He had experience with old Ma'tok Staff. As many of his brethren had. But never could that weapon allow him to strike so swiftly and with such accuracy! In comparison, it was ungainly and cumbersome. Aiming it was an exercise in frustration at the best of times; even the best marksmen could only last about two thirds of their shots at best.

Shifting his aim once more, Ka'nel fired twice. Both bolts struck the targets in the head, one after another.

No more targets appeared and a loud klaxon rang. Over twenty False Jaffa stood up from their positions in the field in unison. They turned as one and marched away, to prepare for the next session. Behind them, the Jaffa Ka'nel took the time to take a break from laying on his belly for over half an hour of picking targets a three hundred meters away.


-


The Artificer Hard At Work

Yolna's ecstatic expression was mirrored along the rest of her fellow Artificers as she led them past the Jaffa guarding the path to their God, Iah.

It was finished! It took the sweat and blood of six to eight days and nights,(along with innumerable pots of caf and more than a few tantrums) but it had been been finished!

'It' being a task that Iah had assigned to his best acolytes in the art of Artificing. Their God had within his possession a vessel of cold steel and golden naquadah, it's innards filled with crystals and lightning. Their task has been to create the 'soul' which would give that vessel it's noble purpose.

That purpose being to observe and gather information. A simple enough purpose, but one that required an intelligent set of pathways for an artificial mind to use in order to sift what was useful information and what wasn't. On top of that, it needed to be capable of knowing when to move from it's position and when to stay still. Almost none of that could feasibly be done without asking Iah to let them use the vessel for a little field testing.

Speaking of, their Lord and Master was head deep into the guts of a Chappa'ai pedestal, it's outer casing of keyed panel removed to reveal the large red control crystal in the center.

Yolna cleared her throat. "My Lord Iah."

Bright gold eyes flashed towards her from underneath the darkness of the pedestal's innards, locking onto her own before Iah pulled his head out and making to stand up. His face was covered in crystal dust and grime, but it was one with an expression of interest and curiosity.

"My Lord Iah, we have finished the task you have given us." She declared proudly.

Iah blinked in confusion. "Task?"

"The task you gave us eight days ago, my lord." Yolna said pointedly. Perhaps he had simply forgotten? "It was about the ensoulment process for your empty Observer?"

"Did I...?" Iah murmured to himself, walking to a table with a set of notes. He shuffled through them and frowned. "I do not recall giving you any such task."

"But, my Lord, you talking about how you hoped to have it done within that timeframe. About the requirements and the needed-"

Their God seemed to remember, a spark of comprehension dawning in his expression right before he began to laugh. By the time Iah was done he was breathless and the acolytes were sweating slightly in nervousness.

"I was speaking aloud." He admitted, his tone tinged with embarrassment. Even so, within the gaze they saw him send their way, the Acolytes could see pride and affection in the glow. "Nevertheless, I am impressed by your initiative and dedication. Come, let us see if this fits what I have in mind..."

Yolna nodded furiously as she and the rest of the artificers followed after Iah like ducklings after a mother.


-


The Giant and the Marshals Analyze the Battle

The glow of the hologram lights up the room in an eerie sea of colors, the soft sounds of voices screaming out and weapons fire whizzing here and there through the whole cacophony. Six figures watch the replay avidly; one a giant of a man, three progressively older Jaffa Marshals, and another Jaffa who alone bore the sigil of the sun rather than the moon. The last Jaffa seemed to be uncomfortable to be present and was shifting nervously next to the young God they all served.

"- as we can see here, the enemy continued to push despite heavy bombardment." Said the oldest Jaffa, pointing towards a specific point in the hologram.

Repeaters pepper the shield wall as they slowly advanced and the tactic allowed them to weather it handily. But once mortars came into play they were immediately forced to scatter. Iah shifts uncomfortably as the bodies of Jaffa are flung into the air, often raining back down in pieces.

"The Jaffa leading them was capable and quick. A pity he could not be recovered completely." Ra'nor nodded sagely, eyes picking out the distant image of the enemy commander besieging the research facility's defensive wall. "He recognized the immediate danger of the mortars and adapted his tactics accordingly."

The Jaffa continued their charge, regardless of losses. Once the wall was breached, their tactics did not change. They continued a charge into the gap, weathering both repeater and direct mortar fire.

"The repeaters seemed to be most effective, I would recommend more of these weapons be created in the future." Noted Khe'jan the with a rumble, as he made an appreciative noise at the sight of shieldbearers being cut down. "The mortars, while effective, should be a lower priority."

"I don't understand, the mortars didn't work nearly as well as I had hoped. The enemy simply continued charging..." Iah said, his youthful face frowning heavily as he stared at the hologram intently.

Targon's fair visae twitched and then softened as he quickly began to explain. "They did work, but the enemy Jaffa were simply too stupid for it to work on them."

"...huh?"

"All of our Jaffa would slow down in response to mortar fire. They know what it is. The enemy Jaffa didn't, and so they ignored it, save for when it killed them." Explained Targon matter-of-factly. "It had no affect on their morale or their speed."

"But it's supposed to kill them, not destroy their morale." Protested Iah insistently.

Ka'tarn took the chance to interject.

"With respect, it's supposed to kill Jaffa that are behind cover. If you want to kill as many Jaffa as possible at this time, we simply need more repeaters." The youngest Marshal said quickly. He pointed towards the waves of holographic Jaffa attempting to rush past the repeaters and rifle fire. "Once the enemy Jaffa get used to Repeaters, they will start taking cover. Until now, Jaffa could simply charge through enemy fire, but with a Repeater, they can't do that."

"So once they stat taking cover, you need a way to fire around that cover..." Dol'nac said, realization settling in his features. With Ka'tarn raising an eyebrow in his direction, the Jaffa quickly replaced it with an air of intelligence as he quickly continued. "Which is where the Mortars come in."

"To put it simply, my lord, you are on two steps ahead of the problem, while the enemy is still on step one." Said Ra'nor sagely, stroking his beard.

"To have the most effective defensive force, we need to exploit the enemy's stupidity for as long as we can. So long as they refuse to take cover, the best way to do that is to make as many Repeaters as possible." Khe'jan said, finishing the Marshal's words of wisdom. "Once they start taking cover, then the mortars will be just as effective as you foresaw... but that hasn't happened just yet."

Iah didn't seem to be convinced, but despite his personal misgivings, the Goa'uld appeared to be wise enough to take the wisdom of his advisers.

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

Despite having such a lust for battle and glory, Heru’ur prided himself on his intellectual wit and poetry. Odd, wasn't it? That a creature such as he, experienced with matters of war, martial arts, and the game of tactics and grand strategy… would ultimately prefer the writ of word and the tip of a writing wand.

If he were to ruminate on the very idea of his hobby, the Goa’uld might suppose his love for it came from that old snake Yu.

Yu was ancient even for a Goa’uld, he was old when Ra first took power; that the Heavenly Jade Emperor still ruled demanded respect. Heru’ur remembered his father speaking of Yu with caution, citing that Goa’uld only grew old in a few ways.

Either by cowering and hoping they would survive,’

By painstakingly working their way up.

Or simply by defeating, subverting, and killing everyone else.

And Yu was the oldest of the Goa’uld.

Though he had personally never seen Yu’s methods of securing power among his court, there were his habits that the young Warmaster did pick up on and took on as his own hobbies in imitation.

Heru’ur was an avid reader of intellectual works, with a preference towards poetry and song. Particularly of those that held deeper meanings beneath the surface. He enjoyed teasing morsels from between lyrics, uncovering a piece of the story hidden behind the script. When he was not leading his Jaffa into skirmishes with upstart lordlings, he would write his own riddles and poems.

This was one of those rare days, when time permitted him many hours to ruminate on the written word and how best to trick and puzzle those who might find his works one day.

Unfortunately, that was soon interrupted by a chirp of an active call from his personal Vo’cume Projection Sphere. The Warmaster frowned unhappily, having been in the midst of a fresh poem detailing the most recent failure of an prideful Underlord. With a growl of anger, Heru’ur threw aside his writing wand and stalked towards the floating sphere, fully intent on making whoever was interrupting his precious peace-

His brother’s youthful face appeared upon the sphere’s reflective surface, expression conflicted and fearful.

Instantly, all the anger melted away as Heru’ur felt himself grow concerned, instincts of familial protectiveness coursing forwards. He carefully readjusted his expression to that of the attentive older brother and smiled at Iah warmly. “Brother! It has been only a few days since we last spoke! Have you missed me already?”

The corners of the younger Goa’uld’s lips twitched involuntarily and Heru’ur felt a trickle of pride at allaying whatever troubled his sibling.

“I am worried about Ra, brother mine. He has not contacted me for the monthly reports.”

Was that all?

Father was on his Grand Progress, the great touring of his Empire. Why, the constituents of Yu, Ba’al, Apophis, Cronus, and Olokun had already hosted the Emperor at great expense as a show of their continued loyalties in hopes of royal favor.

“This is the third time in as many months. I have already tried contacting him, but to no avail. I do not know what to do.” Iah’s voice was grim and his face tight with worry. He stared imploringly at Heru’ur, and the older Goa’uld could not help but feel the beginnings of doubt creep down his host’s spine.

“I will look into this matter, brother. Do not worry yourself. Father will contact you soon, no doubt having run into some trouble. Why don’t you deliver those reports to me and I shall pass them to Father when I contact him?” Heru’ur saw Iah remained unconvinced, but acquiesced to his authority. As his brother delivered his reports on the state of his research and developments, Heru’ur listened raptly… but thought of the worry of his brother and the news of his father’s lack of communication.

After the report and promising Iah that he would personally take care of the matter, Heru’ur let himself openly appear uneasy as soon as he was sure the projection sphere had disconnected.

It was most unlike Father to miss the monthly reports from Iah, after all their father had been most meticulous in cultivating all the desired qualities of his children; chief among them the Warmaster himself. He didn’t stop asking for regular reports until Heru’ur was at least a century old and had shown himself to be fully dedicated to his destiny as Warmaster.

Quickly, he entered the requisite codes to contact his father. The projector hummed and became silent.

He tried again. Nothing.

Frowning, Heru’ur contemplated using the emergency codes afforded to him as his father’s Warmaster. Hesitantly, he inputted the correct hieroglyphics… and the projector refused to connect.

With pursed lips and a growing frown, the Goa’uld thought about the possibilities of a good explanation; perhaps father was in an area where communication was impossible? Was there something finally broken in his centuries old personal communications sphere? Scenarios and explanations ran through his mind, each more unlikely than the last.

The thought of the Supreme System Lord disappearing without a single appearance for any length of time was alarming in of itself. To go weeks without being seen by other Goa’uld of high station would invite temptation, three months would no doubt give cause to prod and poke for reactions…

Heru’ur wondered why he himself did not notice Ra’s disappearance or lack of communication. His father liked to be kept up to date, it was almost an obsessive tic of his personality, the overwhelming need to be in control.

It was the momentum of Ra’s continued dominion of the Goa’uld Empire, he realized. Like a massive ripple in a great ocean that was still being felt. The other System Lords still feared their Overlord, but without that visibility of fear, without Ra, it would give way to curiosity and seditious thoughts.

With sedition, without fear, rebellion might just forment.

First raids. Skirmishes to test the water. Then more overt actions… Heru’ur looked around him, cursing his lack of hindsight as he realized that it had already begun.

He needed to prepare. Warriors, ships, garrisons of entire star systems… Should Ra ever return and see what he was doing, it could be seen as an attempt to usurp him. But Heru’ur trusted Iah to take his side, to help convince Ra he only sought to prevent civil war.

"Kruun'l."

Within seconds, the pale visage of his First Prime was before him in miniature within the palm of his hand. The jaffa knelt in supplication, as was appropriate. "My lord."

"Leave a quarter of the fleet for systematic bombardment. Make an example of the transgressors and their servants. We will make best speed to Soma'Kesh."

"As you command, Warmaster."

Bringing up a hologram of the star charts, the Warmaster first began with the Goa’uld he could trust to raise their banners with his… and those who either might, would, or could not.

 

[Knowledgeispower]

And so begins the stargate cannon. On the positive side for the SGC only Iah's Jaffa have all the fancy gear and training and since Iah is an SI as long as he gets to keep his domain I'm sure he would make a deal with the Tau'ri

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

stargate cannon

I mean... it could work. But would it use Stargates as ammunition?

 

[Knowledgeispower]

I mean... it could work. But would it use Stargates as ammunition?

Opps, spelling error nothing to see here

 

[Urabrask Revealed]

Well, there the SGC are now. I wonder how long it's going to take them before they run into Iah's forces.
I'm not as familiar with the Stargate as I should be, mostly because Stargate seemed to run on an episodic format.
In fact, I was surprised to learn that Stargate started with a movie.

EDIT: Teal'C would likely have heard rumors of Iah and his many developments. Might be that the SGC leadership could consider trying to eliminate him to weaken the Goa'uld further.

 

[The Whispering Monk]

I'm just waiting for Iah to discover he has a Toc'ra (so?) working for him.

 

[Urabrask Revealed]

I'm just waiting for Iah to discover he has a Toc'ra (so?) working for him.

Maybe he already knows? Eh, unlikely, considering she seemed to have covered her tracks quite well.

 

[Jormungandr]

It'd be funny if he either knows and is blase about it or finds out and is like, "meh, okay".

Seshat's/Melia's brains short-circuiting would be hilarious.

...I kinda want to see a subplot where "Queen" Seshat and Queen Amaunet frequently have monthly tea dates to pretty much gossip, much to Iah's indifference and Apophis' confusion (and despite the latter being in a state of underhanded war with the former).

Iah trading away a pizza recipe for another one of Amaunet's kittens, since they're the "best in the Empire" (unintentionally insulting Bastet's pride, who tries to dissuade Iah of that notion by regularly sending him her best of the latest generations of her cats), and baffling Apophis, who thinks it's part of a greater plot.

Idle thoughts, though these might just be omake-worthy stuff:

In the future, where the SG:C holds a summit for the inclusion of Earth into the Protected Planets Treaty, Iah's presence causes ripples: Teal'c would obviously know of the eccentric and contradictory Goa'uld, views filtered through his former Master and Bra'tac, and the other System Lords in attendance would probably just facepalm or look on in guarded amusement as Iah tries to set up trade-links for harmless things like twinkies/"Tau'ri cuisine".

It's only that Iah unintentionally does horrifying shit (like accidentally blowing up a moon or planet) that prevents him from being just considered a harmless eccentric and is instead considered eccentric and dangerous, albeit non-maliciously.

...And Yu grimacing and trying to duck out on Iah's offer of "coffee" during their meetings.

I think the SG:C would see the true threat in Iah, though: he's a Goa'uld that tries to push the envelope in innovation and invention. Although other Goa'uld do try to actively advance research and technology, he's their Speedy Gonzales.

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

Ra was dead.

There is no doubt about it.

If the lack of communication from Ra [Father(Creator)Emp- stop that] was of any indication, the total lack of ability to contact him at all for over three months was a clue in of itself.

Tiring of pacing the length of my personal chambers, I sat down, practically melting into the soft cushions of my bed. Desperately willing the headache away, the panic that threatened to drown me. My feelings on the matter were decidedly mixed.

On one hand, I felt immeasurably relieved. While the leash on me had been long and underused, it was still a leash. On the other hand, the only reason the Goa’uld Empire remained a stable, if stagnant, united nation was because of Ra being immeasurably smug at everyone else. He had technological superiority over the rest of the Goa’uld, ensuring a long reign over the other power blocs, thanks to me and P’tah the inventor of the Ha’tak… who incidentally hasn’t been seen in person for centuries and only occasionally resurfaces to give hardware and software updates.

Considering how long it took to drip-feed back down the pyramid and the literal centuries to research and develop anything they couldn’t just directly copy… Well, that explains why Ra had me become P’tah 2.0, but better and more reliable. Hah.

Anyway, Ra was basically Palpatine. Except less Force Lightning happy. And prettier. Of course just as soon as Palps snuffed it, the Empire tore itself apart with everyone trying to get top seat.

My brother and uncle are among those potential warlords.

Heru’ur was... Well, for a Goa’uld he was a very good older sibling. He cared, insofar as much as a Goa’uld can, for his family.

I have not spent much time with my other ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’, but it seems to be an odd quality for those born directly from Ra’s line; to care for each other as a family unit.

Another point in his favor was perhaps, a redeeming quality; that the treatment of his Jaffa, a trait we both share, in the sense that the Jaffa under us both saw many benefits far above the norm. For all the time we spent together, during his visits to Dashani and outside of it when he insisted we go hunting or hawking (Heru’ur had a particular affinity for the damn birds, for all his professed love of running with the Hound at his side), he would often offer advice on various subjects.

While I was outwardly receptive to his words, I couldn't help but wonder what his angle was. Was Heru’ur always so familial? My genetic memories would lead me to believe that he was, to a point. He was the one who argued for lenience on Hathor’s part, leading to her imprisonment in stasis rather than outright execution. Despite being Goa’uld, he was loyal to our ‘father’… though he held a marked dislike for Apophis; another common trait in the family spawned by Ra…

Speaking of Apophis.. My dear uncle.

He has always been jealous of his brother, Ra, for being the most powerful. For being Emperor in all but name. Envious, avaricious, and vainglorious. All the worst qualities of the Goa’uld, but tempered by experience and cleverness in equal measure.

But... he bore a genuine love for his Queen Amunet. Unlike the vast majority of Goa’uld who had Queens, he shared a bond with his that transcended the base desire of lust and control. His host’s face would change expressions the moment he laid eyes upon his Queen and I knew if nothing else, he would consider her words with deep thought before coming to a decision.

Amunet always did like my gifts. And I her’s. Amunet was like an aunt in that regard, who would spoil her nieces and nephews out of a desire to see them happy. And Apophis the disgruntled uncle.

That said… Apophis saw me as a living insult to his vanity. The latest of many insults from his brother Ra. The rivalry between the two had been famously one-sided; it was said that it first began during the war against Anubis, where Apophis led the armies and fleets with great martial strength and earned the Goa’uld many victories despite Anubis’ technological might.

It was Ra who held the socio-political factions of the Goa’uld together and between the two brothers, they forged the otherwise factious Underlords into a force that ultimately defeated Anubis.

But because Ra held the reins in matters of Court and claimed a stronger direct lineage to Apep’s line, he was able to amass the loyalty of many Goa’uld to his banner, leaving Apophis as second among many lesser equals.

Every moment of Ra’s achievements from that day forward only rubbed it into Apophis’ face that the rank of the Supreme Lord could have been his.

Every moment of Ra’s superiority by my hands was another reminder of that loss and more.

Of the System Lords, my ‘Uncle’ had the most motivation to see me humiliated and chained as his pet scientist. He would destroy everything I have achieved in this world. Dashani would be lost in every way that mattered; its uniquely developing culture, the educated people, the lives of all the Jaffa and Nakhti, Neshka, and Seshat-

My heart leaped to my throat as I thought of the horrors that Apophis might inflict on... Not a single one would be left untouched by his cruelty.

And of the Goa’uld, Apophis was well known for his creativity in matters of cruelty.

I wanted to just hide away from this. The inevitable cavalcade of problems that would soon come knocking on my door. Once Ra’s disappearance gets out, one of the greatest priorities of any ascending Goa’uld would be to take this world. And they would not come asking politely.

Perhaps even Heru’ur’s words of assurances were suspect, however unlikely that was.

Slowly pulling myself up from the increasingly comfortable bed, I began to think. I needed a plan to survive this.

At this time… no one knew for sure if Ra was truly gone. There were no outright rumors or even speculation yet. But it would not be long now. It could be anywhere from another month or two before the cracks of this feudalistic system would begin to show.

I needed to exploit that. Even more than I already have, that is.

To do that, I needed to tell Seshat she needed to visit Aru’Ra with a shopping list.

-

Seshat was... less than enthused. She had the most pained expression of sufferance when I entered her office solar and walked straight to her desk. I ignored the small pile of untouched dataslates in favor of thrusting another directly at her.

She took it without pause, setting down one after signing off on it and then giving it a glance. Then her face blanched.

I took a moment to sit down and wait for her calm inquisition of my purported insanity.

"I know Ra has given you access to all his vaults and stores for anything you might desire, but isn't this a little too much?" Seshat asked me incredulously, scrolling down the dataslate I had handed to her. "You're already getting regular shipments of naquadah and even trinium! Never mind the regular influx of new workers and artisans... You're getting more naquadah than the most voracious of Ra's underlords."

She set the data slate down on her desk and looked me in the eye. "Why the sudden need for more? Is this not already enough, Iah?"

I tried not to look away as I carefully replied.

"The recent attack has made it clear that I cannot rely on Ra's reputation to deter other Goa'uld from raiding Dashani. Despite the fortifications and the addition of a new defense grid... it is not enough."

Seshat does not speak for a moment as something in her searching eyes changed. "And these items will change that?" She asked, gesturing at the contents of the dataslate.

I nodded and Seshat considered it. Guilt gnawed at me as she continued to stay silent, I tried not to squirm as I waited for her answer.

Unmentioned were the older hulls generously donated by Ra's Underlords to the defense of Dashani, along with the Jaffa to crew them. The Shipyards were busy refitting them with upgrades to being them up to standard while others were being gutted for distinctly non-combat use. Many were Cheops or Chel'tak warships, obsolete by any standard, but en masse were able to deter even Ha'tak motherships fielded by the most powerful System Lords. Combined with my technology, it should be more than enough.

Were it during the peacetime, perhaps. During the calm before civil war? I sincerely doubt it.

Seshat did not need to say anything. She hid everything behind an expression of calm, but she suspected what I was hiding. I don't doubt that, even as she nods silently in acquiescence, that might even know the truth of my distress. She picks up the dataslate once again, sliding it under her arm.

I felt her walk close and almost started with the rustle of silk against silk as she wrapped her arms around me. Looking up at her in surprise, I see on her face an expression that was mixed with equal parts pity and resolve. I inhale the faint perfume of oils of the Sammaro blossoms on her hair as she hugged me close. The warmth of her skin and the intimacy of the act set me at ease within moments.

"It will be alright, Iah. I trust you know what you're doing." Seshat whispered softly into my ear as the tension in my body faded. "I will return from Aru'Ra with all haste."

"You will need to make a show of it..." I mumbled into her hair, my arms wrapping her close. "I hate politics."

"I know, Iah. I know." She sighed before pulling away slightly. "Is there anything else I should know of?"

I hesitate for a moment before nodding. "I will be taking the Tender and several Ha'tak to retrieve an item of great importance. When you return, I will be waiting at Uat-Irtyu. I will explain then."

Seshat nodded minutely before drawing me close for a little longer. After a minute, she pulls away, I almost protest. "Isn't that request urgent?" Her voice held no bite, only teasing. My eyes looked away and she giggled gayly as she ran her fingers through my hair. "You have your own tasks to get to, my lord."

Her fingers trailed down the back of my neck, leaving goosebumps and a surge of warmth rushing to my chest. I nodded, she was right. "In the depths of Uat-Irtyu."

"In the depths of Uat-Irtyu," Seshat promised.

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

Hundreds of years ago, the Goa’uld and the Asgard waged war upon each other. Or… rather, the Asgard waged war on the Goa’uld. And the Goa’uld tried to fight back.

Stalemate was often victory in and of itself while true victories were rare and far between those self same stalemates and defeats. Often, victory came at the cost of many pyramid ships to often single digit numbers of Asgard warships.

The famed chariots of the Asgard of ancient legend; small frigates that were ridiculously well armed for their size, downing many Cheops opposite of it with ease. Or perhaps more famous still were the Beliskners, the hammerheads that ravaged the nascent Goa’uld Empire and led the way to instilling thousands of years of fear of the Reenlokia in every symbiote since.

One battle in particular, long lost and unknown save for very few Goa’uld is that of the world Stennos. Once a world within the domain of the Goa’uld Zeus, it was largely forgotten during the chaos of the later stages of the Asgard-Goa’uld War. It was during this time that Zeus had been deposed by his father Cronus and subsequently banished to Tartarus forever.

Cronus sent five early generation Ha’tak Motherships to ambush a single Beliskner over a world of Zeus’ worshippers. A beautiful planet with very little in the way of water save for many small lakes, it was most predominantly forest; so heavily that it was almost always twilight underneath the shade. A saber tooth mouse lion could travel thousands of kilometers without ever touching the ground below.

What land that was not covered in trees were inhabited by these worshippers of Zeus, who had built shrines and monuments to his glory.

Hundreds of generations ago these people would bare witness to a fiery sky where the Gods did battle.

The battle was short. But all five had managed to do what many others had failed to on numerous occasions.

Heavily damaged, the Asgard warship crashlanded on this world. It’s amnesiac clone commander was mistaken for Zeus himself and it ruled in his stead for many years before finally succumbing to old age. Ra had known of the ship’s survival and feared that attempting to capture it would be impossible. But when it died of natural causes, he took the opportunity to annex the world to his Empire, brutally subjugating the natives and securing the warship.

What had once been a planet of tens of millions unified in peaceful worship of the Asgard Zeus became but a hundred thousand.

Despite being well over a thousand years old, the warship was remarkably intact and still worked flawlessly. It would be obsolete by Asgard standards by now, but it was still many generations ahead of Goa’uld technology.

Ra could not decipher how it worked. Until I did and secured my place in his Empire, deriving technologies from it to in turn secure his rule.

He had then given me Dashani. A world to call home. A world I now must protect at all costs.

I feel apprehension as the natives are told to take all their belongings and board the ships to their new home. They all gave but token resistance; Ra had long broken their will when he came for the Asgardian warship, the King Under the Mountain they had long believed to be their god.

The Jaffa were gentle in their persuasion. I made sure of it. The people of this world would see prosperity under me, it was the best I could do for them.

The alternatives would be worse. After all, I could not afford to allow the Goa’uld to discover this place… and in the event they do, they would know the true threat I would represent to them.

I feel apprehension as the monitors beeped quietly. This world was close to Cronus’ border. He did not know I was here. And if he did, he would send ships to investigate. Unwanted attention at a point I could least afford.

Which was why I had many Al’lesh to cover the edge of the system under cloak, and ready to give warning.

Some might say it was paranoia.

But is it really paranoia if they’re out to get you?

The karakesh entwined around my right arm sent a tingle across the limb. I open my palm and allow Khe’jan’s kneeling figure in miniature to appear.

“What is it?”

“My Lord Iah,” intoned Tiny softly without looking up. “We are ready. The Reenlokia body has been secured. Cloaking fields have been properly calibrated and tractor beams are holding steady.”

“Was there much trouble, Khe’jan?” I asked, amusement creeping into my voice at the soft spike of irritation in his voice. The Jaffa wiped his face clean as he stood up properly, but kept his composure.

My First Prime shook his head. "Nothing that required more than a minor rebuke

“And the people of this world? I hope there is no trouble…”

“We have taken aboard the citizens within the Motherships via ring transport. The remaining villagers were ushered through the chappa’ai. Their shrines and holy works have also been secured, as you have ordered.”

“Very well, take us to high orbit with our prize.” I order with a nod of approval. Khe’jan clasped his fist to his heart and bowed slightly.

“As you command, Lord Iah.” With that final declaration, his hologram disappeared and the scene began to change. As I turn to watch it fully, the Jaffa around me stiffen to attention, but I pay them no mind.

From the Pel’tak, I watch as the forests begin to fall away and the ascendance does not slow. Around the flagship, five other Ha’tak follow. With a wave of my right hand, the main screen changes to show the bulk of my prize, the distinctive hammerhead outline of the Beliskner rising with us, hidden underneath a shell of cloaking devices salvaged from dozens of Al’kesh.

Perhaps in time a cloak for an entire mothership can be developed. But I had no more time for that. Brute force strategy would have to do. When Dashani was secured, I would have time for such projects.

As the pel’tak reaches the clouds, I can see the Tender waiting in high orbit for us. An open lotus flower of fifteen petals glittered in the distance. As we reach the Tender, it’s arms formed a cradle around the Beliskner, securing it in place and enveloping it in shields and clamps. With Ha’taks in escort, we formed a Hyperspace field around it and opened a window.

On the surface of Stenno, there would be nothing left to show that any civilization existed.

As we entered Hyperspace, in our wake, it’s vast forests were consumed by a conflagration stretching thousands of kilometers.

There would be nothing left.

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

The bustling streets of the metropolises of Aru’Ra were very much not unlike those of Dashani, Seshat noted. With the exception of the Chappa’ai placed at the center of an enormous civic center surrounded by garish looking obelisks that represented the most loyal of the System Lords to Ra, of course.

‘Though the people at home aren’t nearly as downtrodden,” Melia reminded her Tok’ra symbiote pointedly. ‘Look at these poor people… I can’t help but pity them whenever we walk on this world.’

And pity them she did. The common human slave looked upon her with such adoration and wonder that it was all she could to hide her discomfort. Both Melia and Seshat shuddered mentally, but Goa’uld functionaries and human slaves alike saw only the regal uncaring mask of the direct representative of Ra’s favored Goa’uld Lord.

Behind Seshat, sixty Jaffa in silver and white plate marched in lockstep, stepping through the Chappa’ai in threes. They made for an impressive sight as they followed after her, the light catching prettily on their shining armor and the sound of their marching giving off a distinctive beat of confidence.

And behind them, some thirty or so cargo containers and chests followed on anti-gravity sleds, inlaid with the marks of Iah proclaiming gifts for his rightful liege lord Ra.

Avarice and lust in equal measure raked her body from hundreds of glowing eyes, from the silken robes and sash wrapped around her body, the lightly dusted flesh of her round face... all eventually gravitated onto the amulet around her neck. Adorned with the crescent moon of Iah, the center inlaid with the eye of Ra, it was the physical representation of the authority she wielded; more powerful than merely knowing that she was the envoy of Iah and that she could order the immediate deaths of any minor functionary in her way and inconvenience many an insolent Underlord.

Even System Lords would hesitate to show anything other than polite courtesies in her presence; for it was she who might look upon them with favor… and thus grant them access to Iah, the source of Ra’s might.

As she walked through the square, three golden skiffs waited for her. One for her personal guard, two for her retinue and Jaffa, respectively. The Horus Guards bowed respectfully towards her and Seshat graced them with a nod of acknowledgement. She internally shuddered being so close to them. For every Tok’ra that died at the hands of a Goa’uld, many more died by those of Jaffa.

As if sensing her anxiety, the Crescend Guards draw closer around her, shielding her from the sight of the Horus Jaffa as the skiff took off and began speeding towards the great temple-citadel at the center of the continental metropolis.

Seshat didn’t know how to feel about that… Whether the sight of Iah’s Jaffa providing comfort or the fact that she was feeling anything positive at all was a good thing or not.

She cast it from her mind. It didn’t matter. Right now, she had a job to do.

And judging by the gradual slowing of their ride, they were fast approaching the location of their assignment.

Several kilometers from the stone edifices that paid homage to the Goa’uld as a species and the marketplace for secrets and court gossip, the citadel that played host to Ra’s court was a small city in of itself, surrounded by thick sloped walls studded with bastions and anchored by great defensive towers.

Within the walls were a veritable maze of wide brick streets and twisting alleyways, fountains, gardens, temples, palaces, baths, brothels, and fighting pits.

At the center of all this were a score of pyramids where the Goa’uld nobility; functionaries, underlords, and courtiers resided, but none even stood half as high as the Great Pyramid of which Ra called home.

Ra’s pyramidal palace was excessively massive at a height of over two and a half kilometers tall. Quite literally built as a monument to the Supreme System Lord’s vast ego and megalomania. It was also where the physical throne of the Goa’uld Empire had been for the last ten thousand years; yet another reminder to the Goa’uld where the seat of power was.

Vast hangars sat at multiple levels of the Great Pyramid, one of which the skiffs transporting her entered. A small group of Horus Honor Guard resplendent in gold plate stood waiting in neat rows to honor her arrival, at their head a group of oily courtiers whom Seshat recognized as the Castellan and several of his ministers.

Sitting in neat rows within the cavernous hangar were more of Iah’s now famed skiffs, of various configurations and styles, Seshat noted, It seemed that skiffs were now catching on properly among the Goa’uld nobility.

Stepping off the skiff, the Castellan immediately offered her a perfunctory bow and an oily smile. Behind him his aides did the same, if kneeling as low as their pride would allow.

“My lady, so good to have your august self here once more. Already this city is made brighter by your presence,” said the Castellan, simpering at her side as they walked across a familiar path. “I assume Lord Iah seeks more ancient treasures of Ra to study? And gifts for our Emperor? Splendid!”

Seshat gave the Castellan a false smile, Melia muttering distinctly unfavorable things about the Goa’uld functionary’s body odor and brown nose. It was always the same song and dance with this creature of Ra. If not for his genuine fondness of Iah, despite having no real close relationship with her Lord, she would not have tolerated his presence without giving away her utter disdain for his existence.

The Castellan continued the one sided conversation gallantly, reporting of the latest gossip on in the capital without fail; Olokun flying into a rage and beating one of his Underlords half to death over a slave warrior’s victory against his favorite Unas in the Petranaki Arena, the humiliation of several lesser Underlords attempting rebellion in the Arrakis system, Nirrti’s alarming tendency to end up being trapped in cages for weeks at a time on her throneworld of Tlulax just to name a few.

Their path took them to a set of transport rings and Seshat discreetly activated her karakesh, as did presumably the Castellan as well. Two Crescent Guard stood with them as the rings activated and deposited them in a room that could not be otherwise found.

A great antechamber with a Chappa’ai at the back, partially within the floor. A most recent addition to the Vaults where Ra kept his most prized relics. Only those with the authorization codes combined with that of the Castellan’s could even access the relay system that would take them to this place.

Seshat stepped out of the Rings with her Guard and the Castellan just as they activated again, bringing with them Jaffa and their cargo.

As Horus and Crescent Guard began to file out of the Rings, Seshat was mentally preparing herself with Melia fortifying her with that ever strong resolve that humans seemed to be ever abundant with and raised her right hand, palm facing the gate. Opposite of her, the Castellan watched with keen eyes as he too raised his karakesh.

The Chappa’ai activated in response to the remote activation protocols embedded within the crystal matrices of their ribbons devices.

Jaffa watched in silent awe as the Goa’uld before them activate the Chappa’ai, dialing the sequences with nothing but their thoughts.

In reality, Seshat knew, this was simply another advancement of Iah’s contributions to the Goa’uld (and in some cases, to the Tok’ra).

He had isolated this Chappa’ai to accept only one other Gate sequence by using Aru’Ra as the point of origin, maintaining a private network of gates on the same planet as the main gate in the Grand Plaza.

Another marvel that Iah had created in service to Ra. Another achievement that he had forged.

Seshat wondered, as the gate activated with it’s ploom of energy, how many more achievements her Lord would create.

And how many more Tok’ra may die or benefit from it.

She set those thoughts aside at Melia’s urging and nodded in acknowledgement to the Castellan. His presence would no longer be required until it was time to leave the antechamber. Though even then, it might not be needed, as her karakesh did not actually require it if Iah’s modifications to the security systems bore fruit.

Without further ado, Seshat send a signal through to the other side to deactivate the shield. Once she had confirmation the shield had been lowered, she stepped through.

The treasures of ten thousand years of rule lay before her on the other side. Trophies and relics of wars and battles, each a personal physical memory of Ra’s life. The other System Lords no doubt had collections, private museums to their ego… but surely none would have one of this magnitude.

Jaffa followed after her, cargo containers being opened as they gathered the necessary relics and items under her direction.

Seshat made a beeline for the first upon the list of requirements that Iah required.

Nestled upon a pedestal, encased in a golden protective disk, lay the Eye of Osiris. Deactivating the security measures took no more than a thought and soon the ancient crystal amplifier was in her possession.

Several other items were noted and taken. Among them a long red bident that raised goosebumps across her body as soon as she lowered the energy shield around it. Even the Jaffa seemed reluctant to approach it. But it soon lay within a shielded cargo container.

Another of Iah’s requests was a marvel of a bauble with what appeared to be a miniature galaxy within it. Though Seshat could not understand the ancient blocky script around the bauble, she could almost make out the individual lights of the false galaxy’s stars… it almost seemed to draw her eyes ever closer, almost where she could see deeper and-

“My Lady.”

Seshat pulled away from the mesmerizing sight, eyes glowing softly. “... Yes, Renak?”

A Crescent Guard held up a book, bound in vellum depicting an agonized Unas face… though she suspected it was quite possibly an actual Unas’ face. A quick glance told her it was written by a Goa’uld philosopher and law maker Alhazred.

“Thank you, Renak. Place this with the others… make sure not to look at it too closely.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Intoned the Jaffa quietly, carefully covering the bauble with a silk sheet. Another Guard followed after him, arms laden with a wooden case filled with four sided pyramids of golden and black, cubes of blue and silver.

‘I don’t think we should take some of these relics for granted, Seshat,’ noted Melia after a while, her mental voice tight. Privately, Seshat agreed. There were some things in this vault best left unmolested.

Like the little transparent tubes of fetuses suspended in a thick orange-yellow liquid within a large tank-like machine. Nevermind they all bore distinct resemblances to Ra’s host. It had been referred to as an Axltol Chamber by Iah. Was it one of the rumored cloning tanks of the Aztec goa’uld Xolotl? What had Ra been planning with these that he now had Iah to tinker with it?

Setting aside her musings, Seshat turned back to her search for the final item on Iah’s list. A large sphere of gold, engraved with microscopic script. He warned her not to touch it nor to allow it to be removed from it’s containment cell. And to have the Jaffa be prepared to destroy it should it prove ‘too dangerous’.

The words did not fill her with confidence. Internally, Melia noted that Iah was due to answer so many questions when this was over.

She walked through gallery after gallery. Past the trophies and murals, weapons and armor of fallen foes. Through the bestiary of mummified and preserved Stragoth Queens and Thresher wurms, ignoring the treatises and the many books of the long dead Pharaohs and Goa’uld Philosophers.

The young Tok’ra finally came upon a small room, almost hidden in the shadows and gloom.

But within, past it’s wooden doors, lay the prize Iah requested of her.

The golden sphere covered in script so tiny it made her eyes hurt just to look at it. It was the size of her head, perhaps larger. Suspended within another sphere of spider-like lattices, a energy field that prevented anyone from touching it. The Jaffa regarded the sphere with some wariness, their weapons inactive but at the ready. The containment sphere was quite easy to move, Seshat discovered, as it was already situated upon an anti gravity sled.

“This is all then…” Seshat made a show of double checking everything, but the desire for answers burned within her. All she needed to do now was to return home with everything in tow.

The return trip was mostly uneventful. Iah’s desire for all to know that he was removing items of import from Ra’s personal vaults was known to his Jaffa and they performed admirably. Perhaps a little too well, judging by the reactions of the Goa’uld and their slaves shying away in fear.

Even the Castellan seemed wary as he walked with them to the hangar.

They had to stop completely in the hangar, in the middle or embarking when the sphere underneath it’s veil began to whine softly, wind picking up to reveal minute glimpses of its smooth surface shifting.

Without so much as a command from her, the Jaffa had trained their weapons upon the sphere, prong open and buzzing with barely contained energy. After a moment, the Horus Guard joined them.

The golden sphere became quiet after several moments and the wind died down. Seshat realized at that moment that she had been holding her breath for so long that her chest had begun to ache. Taking in a deep breath, she made sure that the sphere was the last to be loaded aboard the rearmost skiff, determined to be as far away from it as possible.

‘What is that thing?!’ Hissed Melia in their mind, shuddering. ‘Why is it in Ra’s vault and why does your lover want it?!’

Seshat stiffened. ‘He’s not my lover!’

‘We sleep with him don’t we?’ Scoffed her host, waving away her outrage. Seshat was about to fire back something vile when she noticed the Crescent Guard drew comfortingly closer.

‘When did we start thinking having Jaffa around us was a good thing?’

She had no answer for that.

They landed at the edge of the plaza leading to the planetary Chappa’ai. The gate had just deactivated, having just been used to deposit several Goa’uld representatives. Among them a familiar face that she had no desire to ever see again.

Apophis blocked her way, his sycophants leering at her with undisguised lust. Yet another unnecessary power play, and Apophis was one System Lord high ranking enough to give her due grief just because he could.

"Does Iah not have enough relics of Ra that he must desire yet more?" Says her Lord's 'Uncle' with a sneer. "Iah yet shows his greed even past his infancy."

"Lord Apophis. Please step aside. I am in a hurry. These must be delivered to Dashani with all due haste." Seshat calmly replied, her voice tight.

He eyed their procession with utmost disdain, ignoring the crowds around him in favor of showing her just how much he despised her existence just for her position as Iah’s-

The sphere shrieked suddenly.

All around them, the Goa’uld and Humans alike staggered as they clutched at their heads. Apophis winced, even as his guards attempted to regain their bearings. But Seshat’s attention was towards the rearguard, where the veil had been torn away by a great draft of wind.

The sphere’s once smooth surface was rough, parts spiking out as though something inside of it was trying to break out.

Crescent and Horus Guard had been prepared this time and they had their weapons aimed straight at it.

The sphere shuddered violently, the buzzing of it’s containment field growing louder and louder with each passing second. Seshat found herself standing in front of Apophis, glowing karakesh raised towards the sphere, shield at the ready.

It’s surface spiking randomly, it was no longer a sphere, it was… something else. Something trying to break free. Something primal that demanded freedom from the confines of its once beautiful shell.

With one final dying scream, the sphere became inert. Smooth golden surface with the filigree words uncountable by mere eyesight.

Seshat didn’t lower her hand until she could breathe again.

The plaza was silent. Save for the sound of staff weapons crackling and the Chappa’ai dialing, even the birds did not scream.

Apophis did not look at her as she passed.

She ignored the whispers that began to grow even as she entered the portal. No, she was done. Iah had answers to give her.

And she would have them if he wished to have a good night’s sleep ever gain.

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

I gaze out of the panoramic window at the ocean with a sense of calm that I did not have. Deep down inside, I was panicking; hurriedly examining my position from every angle and trying to figure out what to do. Too many angles. Too many problems. Too few solutions that could be easily implemented in time.

From my seat at the table, I picked up the crystal decanter and poured myself a glass of apple wine. The sharp scent of apples filled my nostrils as I sip at the brandy-like liquor, feeling the burn run down my throat and settle into my stomach like a warm egg.

I offered a glass to Khe’jan, but the giant Jaffa shook his head.

He always preferred ale more than the refined stuff.

I watch the fish swim in shoals down below, basking in the excess heat gently wafting from vents, uncaring of the greater complexities that is the future war to come.

Behind me, enter the Marshals Three from the far side of the room. From the reflection of the meters thick clear trinium-carbon plating, I could spot the elderly Ra’nor in his new assisted hardsuit. I try not to smile as he holds his cane with uncertainty; due to his new hardsuit, he no longer truly needed it. But as a man ingrained with certain habits, he still holds it even as he stands tall and proud as though he were not a man of well over a hundred and fifty.

Silver haired Targon with a face of a man sixty years younger than he should, Ka’tarn with his close chaven auburn beard and sun kissed skin. The three walked until they were only a few feet away and knelt upon one knee.

A hiss of the door opening once more and I can see Dol’nac enter. The Jaffa Commander joined the others in kneeling on one knee.

I let them stay like that for a few moments before gesturing for them to rise.

They stand and remain silent as I do.

A moment later, Niksha entered with the Ashrak following after her like a lost little puppy. Niksha took to my side, touching my shoulder in quiet concern.

I smiled slightly at her, but her expression of concern did not fade.

”Please, take a seat.” My lips barely moved, but all present (save for the Ashrak) did so. I glance at the door as Seshat walks in and my heart leaps at the sight of her. I gesture to the empty seat to my left,

I feel her tense as she walks near the Ashrak, but relax as she takes a seat next to me. Niksha shared a short glance with her as she joined us at last.

Time to begin.

”I have asked you all here because this the most secure room currently in the star system.” I begin, feeling tense. Nishka’s hand once more finds purchase on my shoulder as I continue. ”Ra is missing.”

The reactions are mixed among my audience.

Ra’nor and Targon are both shocked and troubled. Ka’tarn worried. Dol’nac looked halfway furious and terrified.

Dol’nac looked ready to level his staff weapon at me for daring to imply that Ra might be dead. However, the glance at Kha’jen’s massive size put an end to any such thought.

Beside me, Seshat was in a state of shock while Niksha did not appear to understand the enormity of the news I had just given.

It was, however, the silence of the Ashrak behind me that was most telling.

I did not yet hold his loyalty, for all that I encouraged his independence and humanity. But he had not killed me yet, so he was waiting for me to explain before making judgement.

Good.

“I have contacted my brother Heru’ur to ask for an explanation. We have both used our emergency contact protocols to reach Ra, to no avail.” Behind me, the nameless assassin sucked in a deep breath as he stiffened. I had not asked him to confirm it, knowing full well he reported to Ra on his own time… but his reaction told me the theory of Ra’s possible death held water if his most loyal Ashrak could not do what we could not. “As of this moment, we are assuming Ra is waylaid and will be returning to us in the near future. However, his absence has been felt and noted by a number of Goa’uld. It will not be long before unrest begins. And with it the potential for war.”

The Jaffa stir uneasily and I could not help but share their concerns.

A true war had not erupted in the ten thousand years of relative peace under Ra’s rule. The occasional skirmish and short lived battle did, maybe there were even actual wars on the edge of the Goa’uld Empire between lesser System Lords… but not one that encompassed entire sectors and disrupted hyperspace lanes.

It was hard to imagine a war of the scale like that of the Goa’uld-Asgard War that lasted millennia and across the breadth of the whole galaxy.

War had been practically ritualized under the auspices of Ra’s rule as Kaggath. Part duel, part grand strategy in real time. There were… rules and even regulations. War had been turned into a game between System Lords; a vast chess match where Jaffa were pawns, Gliders knights, Cheops Bishops, Chel’tak Rooks, and Ha’tak Queens. With the respective Lords even dueling one on one, their hosts resplendent in artistic or intimidatingly designed armor.

Goa’uld would watch on the sidelines, betting on who would win.

Only this time the bets would be for keeps.

“What is to be done then?” Asked Ka’tarn gravely,

“Heru’ur, I believe, intends to rally those who are steadfastly loyal to Ra and to secure the borders to ensure compliance of the System Lords. It will not last, the longer Ra remains away. Should any believe Dashani ripe for the taking, he has sent us additional laborers and vessels to bolster Dashani’s defenses.” I declare, nodding towards Dol’nac. The Commander of the shipyard garrison blinked at the sudden attention afforded to him. “Heru’ur will be sending additional Jaffa to join us. I will assign you these Jaffa. See to it they meet your standards and are aware of the importance of their assignment.”

Dol’nac’s bald head is shining with perspiration as he nods frantically in wholehearted agreement. He looked most prideful when the Marshals nod in apparent agreement with my decision. They all caught my eye and I couldn’t help but smile.

The Marshals were all experienced enough to know full well why I made the decision; the Jaffa were simply too inexperienced to fight according to our ways; best to keep them within the heavily defended garrison stations while we build them up properly should time allow for it.

“Marshal Ka’tarn, you will be in charge of the fleet. Coordinate with the defense cannons and drill with them to ensure the orbitals will be difficult for any enemies who may attempt another attack on Dashani.”

Ka’tarn saluted me, his fist positioned where his heart would be. “It will be as you command, Iah.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Commander Dol’nac bristle as the casual tone of voice of the Marshal.

“Marshal Targon, you will hold the walls and the defenses. I have the Artificers producing more weapons for the Jaffa, but you will ensure that the armies that land will pay for every step forward they take. Hold for as long as you can and ensure your soldiers withdraw in good order. Drill, plan, fortify.”

The human Jaffa Master nods, saluting quietly, his handsome features serene as he accepts the task without issue. “As you will, my Lord.”

“Finally, Marshal Ra’nor.” The old Master acknowledged my voice with a slight inclination of his head, his grizzled face betraying no outward emotion. My voice takes on a more sombre tone as I slowly put into words the burden I would be giving him.

“Yours is perhaps the most arduous task. You will take twenty hundred good men and prepare them for low war.”

Almost immediately, there is a mild uproar, mainly from Dol’nac and Targon to a lesser extent.

Though Dol’nac immediately began apologizing, horrified at his lack of composure, I could understand where he was coming from. For Jaffa, fighting with hit and run tactics was not beyond their purview. But sneaking about in the dark, pretending to be Jaffa of another allegiance, cutting throats and stabbing symbiote pouches… that was essentially anathema to how all warriors were trained.

It was also essentially the favored tactics of the Tok’ra. Enemies to all Jaffa as they were now.

Jaffa were not Tok’ra. Nor were they Ashrak. But they were capable of learning these skills. .

Those Jaffa who survived long enough knew it to be essential to matters of war.

But unlike Dol’nac, Ka’tarn, Targon, and Ra’nor held expressions of understanding. Targon did not like it, his distaste was obvious, but like his fellow Marshals, he knew full well the odds were against us.

And he was experienced enough to accept it as a price for survival.

”That is enough, Commander,” I murmur softly, cutting off Dol’nac’s frantic apologies. My face is mournful, reflecting my internal thoughts truthfully. ”It is regretful to resort to such tactics, but if we face armies on Dashani, they will be essential to disrupting their command chain and disorganizing them. It is not honorable. Nor does it hold to the tenants of High War, but it is necessary. We do not have the strength to resist a concerted attack at this time.”

“It feels wrong, to fight as the Tok’ra do.” Murmurs Dol’nac harshly.

Seshat’s lips pursed, I noticed. She was displeased with the Jaffa Commander’s continued petulance. I was too in a manner of speaking, but I let it slide; there were trying times for all of us. Niksha, however, looked ready make a cutting remark to his ego, so I quickly interjected.

”Seshat, Niksha. I will need you both to begin funneling the citizens into Uat-Irty. I have already begun construction of new habitats to make room, but if war does break out, I wish for there to be no innocents to be in the line of fire.” I touch the conference table and the center glows, projecting a large map of the ocean floor. Dozens of pyramids, connected via a myriad of domes and towers atop geothermal vents appeared. Many had once been Cheops-Class warships, now stripped of their engines and weapons, repurposed for housing and research. Nestled within the titanic shipyards was a hammerhead titan connected to the power grid, supplying the settlement with virtually unlimited energy.

”There are undoubtedly spies on Dashani, but this location remains secret to all but ourselves and those that Niksha has assured me are loyal.” I nod towards my Lo’taur, who smiles slightly.

In truth, I had no idea she had taken up the task of organizing the census and the Wojek. She’s sniffed out quite a few people working for other Goa’uld and kept things quite tidy, all things considered. Targon had a few choice words to speak of her, all of it positive.

“I will continue my task, Lord.” Said my Lo’taur softly, smiling slightly, her gaze focusing towards me. “The Wojek will continue to ensure there are no more infiltrators.”

Seshat stirred behind me as I nod and turn towards her. “Seshat, I must give you the task of lead the support staff and the bureaucracy in ensuring this all remains organized. Please see to the safety of Dashani.”

The former Archivist gripped her datapad tightly, face pale as she nodded. A sort of shudder passed through her and Seshat gave me a more firm nod as she shook off what I assumed was her shock of all of this.

“Yes, Iah.”

I gave her a grateful smile and dismissed them all, save for Khe’jan and the Ashrak.

As the last of my subordinates filed out and the room was once again private, I face the glass once more, to stare into the depth of the ocean outside. I watch the fish and crabs, the shoals of fish no smaller than my pinkie follow the strobing lights of Tel’taks and Glider trains.

“What is your bidding, Lord?” Asks the Ashrak quietly.

“If you wish it, I will release you from your obligations to me, so you may search for Ra.” I said, turning slightly to look him in the eye. My voice no longer rumbled, now that I was with just him and my First Prime. “It is the least I can do. I would rather you be here to defend Dashani from possible encroachment. But you hold higher obligations to our liege.”

The Ashrak nodded. “I understand, Lord. I will leave immediately to begin my search. I humbly request a ship.”

I accept the loss without a beat, holding up my hand. The red ruby of the karakesh glowed and an angular tel’tak appears. “Bay twelve. It has been supplied for up to a year’s worth, as well a medical suite, weapons, cloaking, and a new hyperdrive. Good luck.”

“Thank you, Lord.” With one final perfunctory bow, he turned and cloaked. I could hear his footsteps fade as he reached the door. But as he was about to pass through, a question fell from my lips before I thought against it.

“Did you ever choose a name, Ashrak?”

Despite being invisible, I could almost see him hesitate and perhaps even glance towards me.

“When I find my answer to that question, I will tell you, Lord.”

The door shut and I knew he would be gone within the hour.

I sigh, heart heavy, and turn back to the ocean outside, watching the bubbles stream back to the surface high above. Days like these would be soon in short supply. I was determined to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

Because come tomorrow, I will be busy preparing for a war that will undoubtedly come to my doorstep.

Come what may.

 

[ThatTabiFromSB]

Seshat tried not to run all the way back to her private rooms. Indeed, even Melia complimented her on her composure all the way from the walk to the ring transports. But the Tok’ra symbiote could only maintain a facade of absolute calm for so long.

Once more, her host came to rescue, siphoning her fear and hyperventilation away into the deepest recesses of their shared mind.

That didn’t stop her from screaming internally, however.

She was still screaming deep inside when the rings took her to the Chappa’ai and through there to Dashani, then into the rings to the palace where she all but walked at quick pace to her private suite.

As soon as the doors were sealed, the security fields active and anti cloaking measures at full coverage… Seshat checked the sensors and decided that they were private enough to break down and panic.

Melia took over, letting her Tok’ra symbiote lose all composure and blubber wildly in their shared mindspace. She went to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Sammuro liqueur and a small glass. A small measure of the liqueur that went in filled it nearly to the brim and she threw it back. She took a moment to savor the burn and the tart taste on the front of her tongue that soon gave way to a refreshing sweetness.

She knocked back another fortifying glass.

And then several more.

After draining nearly half the bottle, Melia could feel herself calming down somewhat. Even Seshat had stopped wailing in the back of their head. Truly, there were some things that Symbiotes did for the constitution; without Seshat, she would have blacked out by now. Instead, she savored a pleasant buzz and a dull warmth.

‘Could Ra really be dead?’ The human host wondered inwardly, marveling at the sudden upending of the millennia long game of knives and shadows. ‘Iah certainly believes so.’

Seshat didn’t reply. Checking on the Tok’ra symbiote told her that her partner was still blubbering, if quieter.

With an audible sigh, Melia took control once more and walked towards her private bedroom; idly commanding a cleaning drone to begin wiping the floors and tidying up her rooms. The golden spherical machine’s dull sapphire eye came to life as it chirped agreeably and came to life.

Securing her bedroom with a lock and her personal sensor grid, she summoned forth a modified Voc’um Projector. With her personal Karakesh, Melia mentally input the encryption codes into the silver sphere.

She was already breaking a cardinal rule of the Tok’ra by contacting them far earlier than scheduled. Thankfully, however, this was a secure channel and the rooms had already been checked for possible surveillance; not that there was any real need to, Iah trusted Seshat implicitly.

Still, old habits die hard.

A mental confirmation told her that a connection was made. Additional mental buttons entered the passcodes to the queries being sent her way. The Projector’s silvery finish rippled and the concerned face of the Supreme High Councillor appeared. He appeared to have just woken up, judging by his tousled blond hair and tired eyes.

“Seshat, Melia. This is most irregular. What is the emergency?” Per’sus asked immediately.

“Ra is dead.” Even as she murmured the words, Melia and Seshat both could still not believe them. It seemed impossible, still, but the briefing was fresh and she could remember what Iah had all but confirmed it, for all that he himself was unwilling to believe it.

The Tok’ra opposite of her looked disbelieving as much as she was, panicked even. Melia could only imagine what terrified thoughts were rushing through the Tok’ra leader’s mind right now.

“How have you come by this information?” His voice was human now, without the intense vibrations of the symbiote. Per’sus must be in shock and his host had taken command to compensate.

“Iah debriefed his inner circle an hour ago. Both he and Heru’ur attempted to contact Ra, but failed. According to them, they have failed to make contact with the Emperor for the last three months.”

Per’sus’ eyes widened comically. Were it any other time, the subordinate Tok’ra would have laughed. This was not one of those times.

“Three months… We had thought it unusual, but didn’t suspect that…” Almost immediately a change came over him and the Tok’ra Councilor composed himself. “What do Iah and Heru’ur plan to do about this?”

“As far as I can tell, the both of them will attempt to secure the Empire against civil war in hopes Ra will return. Both have appeared to have agreed to wait for Ra’s return rather than either of them attempting to crown themselves Emperor.” Melia paused, worrying her lower lip as she thought. “However, as we have noted, Iah is… startling naive when it comes to politics. It may be that Heru’ur will actually attempt to become Supreme System Lord while keeping Iah in the dark.”

“Yes, a probable possibility.” Agreed the elder Tok’ra with a nod, his host withdrawing as they both ruminated on her report.

Seshat finally managed to bring herself to some form of normalcy, just as Per’sus spoke.

“We will attempt to confirm this information. In the meantime, continue as you will under Iah.” He said, rubbing his face tiredly. “Grow close to him. Seduce Iah if you can. Find out what Heru’ur plans to do. What he will do to aid him. And if possible, see if you can find out the significance of the items you retrieved for him from Ra’s athenaeum world. We will reestablish contact with you in several days. Stay safe, Melia, Seshat.”

“Of course…” Seshat mumbled, staring wearily at the projector as Per’sus’ handsome visage rippled and faded. As soon as the disconnection was confirmed, she glared at the projector, feeling disgust well up inside her. Disgust for the orders she had just been given.

And disgust for herself, for what she had to do for the cause of her people.

Seshat laid there, shoulders slumped, Melia’s whispers and the feather-light scampering of the cleaning drone for company.

-

Per’sus felt all of his three thousand years when the reports painted the picture that was spreading rapidly across the Goa’uld Empire. The System Lords had already taken notice of Ra’s absence.

Indeed, the banners of the vassal lords under Cronus, Apophis, and Ba’al were beginning to gather.

Agents from across the galaxy reported troop movements, immense supplies of refined naquadah being shipped to major shipyards and factoriums, fleets being assembled.

Heru’ur had already stamped out two dozen minor insurrections, executing the perpetrators and slaughtering their Jaffa.

There is already unrest among the System Lords, but none had yet openly defied Ra’s rule… yet.

It was a delicate situation. With each passing day, the likelihood of war grew.

Already plans sown hundreds of years ago would be ruined. The delicate web of plans and contingencies all lost. They had planned everything to take advantage of the stagnant conservative nature of the Goa’uld, but in doing so left them vulnerable to sudden shifts in the Great Game.

The Tok’ra were paralyzed, only able to take minute advantages in opportunities provided by the haste of the Goa’uld.

Even as slow as the situation was progressing, things were still simply moving far too quickly.

“What do we do?” Malek asked, frustration on his young host’s face as he looked imploringly around the council table. “We cannot manipulate the situation to our advantage yet, it is simply too fluid. Opportunities come and go as quickly as you breathe…”

Garshaw of Belote casts a grimace of recrimination with him. “Heru’ur still wages war along the borders of his father’s holdings. These are but skirmishes by the proxies of their masters; the System Lords. They are testing the waters and so far the response has been strong. Enough to delay the inevitable, I think.”

“We must secure our long term agents, provide them with support to ensure they will have high places of power in the new order, whatever it may be,” Selmak intoned wisely, her hands folded over the other. She looked up, face grim, but determined. “The Goa’uld will be disorganized. Keep them disorganized. Troop movements can be leaked, supplies intercepted. Even if Ra returns, alive and well, we can still weaken them all by playing their nature against each other.”

Per’sus nodded, a motion imitated by the other Tok’ra around them.

“Wise words.” Agreed the Supreme Councilor solemnly. “This leaves but one other subject of contention. The Goa’uld Iah.”

His fellow Counselors shifted. Some uncomfortably, others with interest.

“Iah has grown considerably powerful within Ra’s own court; he is the Emperor’s chief scientist and maintains a state no other Goa’uld would ever allow in his own domain. Save for the fact the population are fervent worshippers and his apparently loyalty to Ra, he is an ideal candidate for subversion.”

The High Council was silent. Even Selmak, ever outspoken and unrestrained in speaking her mind did not speak.

Per’sus waited for protest, anything. So he forged onwards.

“Despite being the direct spawn of Ra, it is clear he does not exhibit the megalomania typical of his kind. Iah is an introvert who wears his heart on his sleeve, he has no grasp of politics nor aspirations for power. He contents himself with creation of things that benefits his subjects. Moreover, we have an agent who he is reportedly very close to emotionally.”

He stood up, eyes of the Tok’ra following his ascension as he delivers the finishing touches to his carefully written argument. “In many ways, Iah represents an ideal Tok’ra. Without Ra to ensure his compliance, I believe we can subvert him. If not him, then co-opt his resources and technology to the benefit of the Tok’ra.”

There was silence as the rest of the Council digested his proposal.

“What does Seshat think of this?” Asked Denel carefully, his ebony face expressionless. He leans forward, fingers steepled in front of him. “She is close to Iah. Of the Tok’ra, she alone has the expertise necessary to determine if this is indeed a wise course of action.”

“It is also incredibly risky.”

Heads turn towards the entrance. A lithe woman with pale red hair stalked towards them, her leather bindings slick with sweat.

“Jolinar.” Breathed Malek in surprise, he glanced with Selmak. “We did not expect your return for some time. We last heard of your escape from Netu and hoped for the best. Have you seen Martouf yet?”

She shook her head. “There are more important matters to discuss, Counselors. I’m sure you’ve heard Ra is dead.”

“That has yet to be confirmed.” Per’sus said quickly. “But all evidence points to his apparent disappearance is evident. Whether or not he is dead is irrelevant.”

“Then most of what I have discovered is outdated.” Jolinar admitted easily, but her eyes gleam nonetheless. “Save for one morsel, I suspect.”

She held out her palm, where a modified karakesh activated.

“It took me some time to get home, both to make sure I was not followed and to ensure if I did have any pursuers, they could not follow me. So I took a risk and went through one of Ra’s athenaeum worlds.”

There was an instant uproar, of shock and horror, one that Jolinar ignored with practiced ease by activating a hologram that showed a rare but familiar shape. The distinctive hammerhead of the Asgard.

“An Asgard was present at this world. I do not know why, but it was there. I hid under cloak, but I do not doubt it knew I was there. Not long after I had detected it, it jumped to hyperspace.” The hologram faded and she closed her palm thoughtfully. “I did not dare test the orbital defenses anymore than I already had and made several jumps before I finally came here. I have sensor readings of the Asgard ship, what little I could gather. What it was doing there, I fear we may never know.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Agreed Per’sus, tapping his chin. “What the Asgard may gain from that world when they already have greater technology is beyond me. Still, we have goals we may yet reach. Lend us your wise counsel, Jolinar of Malkshur.”

As the session continued in earnest, he wondered, idly, about the Asgard before dismissing it. The thoughts of the beings from beyond the galaxy were irrelevant to the Tok’ra as far as the freedom from the tyranny of the Goa’uld were concerned. More than one foolhardy Tok’ra had lost their lives and their host trying to contact the Asgard.

So he turned back to the rest of the Council, words of those he could trust and understand.

The times were changing, and he swore the Tok’ra would take full advantage of what opportunities would present themselves.

 

[Karmic Acumen]

Jolinar saw Loki, eh? And Seshat will have her conviction about Iah's naivete throw by him having known about her and the Tok'Ra all along.

 

[Jormungandr]

Nirrti keeps accidentally locking herself in cages? sigh If it weren't for the fact it's her, I'd find that pitying, heh.

A certain Tok'ra is beginning to have divided loyalties, and genuine feelings for Iah. The 'seduction' part of her orders might not be so much a seduction in the future, I think.

Seshat becoming Iah's queen, a post she gladly takes because, not only it advances the Tok'ra cause, she and Melia genuinely fall for him? Best outcome.

And it'd be more hilarious if Iah knows that Seshat/Melia is a Tok'ra, but he genuinely doesn't care.

It'd create an odd yet amusing dynamic: the Tok'ra Queen, heh.