paulobrito
Well-known member
Somehow, I don't think Ba'al is a naive, rank amateur...
Stargate Through the Looking Glass and into Heaven.
- Thread starter The Immortal Watch Dog
- Start date
600 years old, he is related by blood to exactly none of the other peers or any of the dynasties of System Lords, no one but Ra and Thoth know anything about him and Ra carried that to his grave. Wealthiest creature in all creation as well, how? Why? Where did he come from? No Peer has ever come out of thin air..etc...
Ba'al is definitely not naïve and he's only an amateur by virtue of the fact that he's a comparative child playing this game against people as old as our species. But he's not doing too bad!
I may actually write up some chapters featuring the early days of their rebellion against the Ori. As well as the Titan's rebellion of which Ba'al would feature in the shadows, rather prominently. If seeing how it all began interests any of you gents.
paulobrito
Well-known member
In the series, Ba'al is the best character by a wide margin. I hope you can make it justice.
I plan to feature. Hathor, Amaterasu and Ba'al a lot more as the story progresses.
My hope is that I do him justice as well, because like Hammond...He was kind of a lynchpin character.
Harlock
I should have expected that really
I think he does read like a different generation without quite the same level of tradition weighing on him. My impression is that will make him less predictable than his peers which does reflect original Ba'al.
I'm interested to see more but a good start, different enough to be interesting but still firmly belonging to his species
I'm interested to see more but a good start, different enough to be interesting but still firmly belonging to his species
That remains my biggest concern, an eternal fear all my Goa'uld will end up either sounding the same or deviating to the point of being preposterous.
It is a tight rope I end up rewriting whole chapters over.
The older system Lords built that society to keep the more primitive Goa'uld from turning into what we got in the show.
But a hundred thousand years is a long time, even for the Snakes. There's a chance they've evolved beyond the need for such extreme measures and maybe the System Lords resent their origins to crap on them out of a sense of shame or simple cultural inertia.
Ba'al walks between those extremes and his ambitions are his own, while still being loyal to his species and the Imperium.
Edit- I might have Boch eventually join the Atlantis expedition. He was too fun a character to be a one hit wonder.
Harlock
I should have expected that really
I reckon a lot hangs on how the different factions show themselves. With show Goa'uld it did seem like each Lord was a law unto himself without much shared beside the basics. Felt like a collection of individuals though that may have been down to lack of scope on the show.
I think you have a good grasp but whenever I tried to write Goa'uld I looked at Rome, specifically I Claudius and Titus Andronicus for a flavour of how to mix scheming with absolute power and no limits on their actions. Caligula too but thats probably too far into the depraved side for the nature of these guys.
Anyone who walks around declaring themself a god has some serious confidence and ego even if they don't believe it themselves. Some of the Goa'uld seemed to really buy into it, others maybe more a means to an end. To me that does reflect classic Rome more than say Egypt or other classical society, more intrigue than the Pharohs people usually base Goa'uld on.
So far I think you have been on point communicating this, they do read as having that superiority and confidence but without the blindness many of the TV ones had. The way they speak is sufficiently different to distinguish them, that is probably the area I'd keep a watch on most. You have demonstrated their personalities so its just about keeping their way of speaking consistent with their attitude. Just things like whether they use simple words or more old fashioneed ones, whether they talk straight or hide behind language, simple stuff like that.
Crazy as it sounds you will find they have distinctive voices as you develop them, individual styles of speech and demeanor which makes them unique. At that point its just natural to write them without really thinking about it.
I think you have a good grasp but whenever I tried to write Goa'uld I looked at Rome, specifically I Claudius and Titus Andronicus for a flavour of how to mix scheming with absolute power and no limits on their actions. Caligula too but thats probably too far into the depraved side for the nature of these guys.
Anyone who walks around declaring themself a god has some serious confidence and ego even if they don't believe it themselves. Some of the Goa'uld seemed to really buy into it, others maybe more a means to an end. To me that does reflect classic Rome more than say Egypt or other classical society, more intrigue than the Pharohs people usually base Goa'uld on.
So far I think you have been on point communicating this, they do read as having that superiority and confidence but without the blindness many of the TV ones had. The way they speak is sufficiently different to distinguish them, that is probably the area I'd keep a watch on most. You have demonstrated their personalities so its just about keeping their way of speaking consistent with their attitude. Just things like whether they use simple words or more old fashioneed ones, whether they talk straight or hide behind language, simple stuff like that.
Crazy as it sounds you will find they have distinctive voices as you develop them, individual styles of speech and demeanor which makes them unique. At that point its just natural to write them without really thinking about it.
Never did they consider that Earth stumbled into something on their own in the biggest opposie the Galaxy has ever seen.
The Month of Ouranos
Alrighty then ladies and gents a few incoming chapters! The first of which...a present for @Spartan303 because he asked for this and I figured @Harlock and @bullethead Might like this as well.
While The United States Government is briefed on the sheer scale of the threat they face and Drey'ac begins her journey through the intrigues of the Court of Ba'al the former Empress of the known Universe begins to make moves of her own!
Othalla – Dwarf Galaxy orbiting the supergiant Galaxy Ida
The Month of Ouranos (Sixth month of the imperial Calendar)/July Tau’Ri reckoning
By all accounts this planet was a graveyard. Cold, windswept marshlands extended as far as her eyes could make out ending at what her combat helmet told her was a mountain range that had been broken. Broken by the fall of an immense vessel larger than anything that the Goa’uld had ever built (Or so she believed). She’d dispatched scouts to visit the great ruin, a vessel shaped like a city that reminded her all too much of the fabled Atlantis, the massive wonder created by the Alliance of the four Ancient Powers. Combining the technologies of the Asgard, the Fyryns, the Ori and even the arcane knowledge of the Nox. It was said to be both an ark for the survival of the remaining Ori and Fyryns and the means to defeat the revolution that was quickly evolving into an empire all its own. Allegedly it had the capability to match the industrial power of the Imperium in its early days and was so well defended it was said to be unassailable, with hybrid weapon systems that would have torn through their fleets.
So much for that, the mythical Atlantis was such a threat Anubis martialed the entire armada of the System Lords and stormed the world where it was supposedly being built. Oh sure, there were evidence of a construction facility, but little else. A myth, one that seemed to have been murdered in its cradle by the brother of her mistress. A cold wind passed through her platinum blond hair, causing even her Jaffa physiology to shiver. In the distance, the clear crystalline Asgardian Stargate shimmered in the rising of this planet’s second sun. Ten locks, ten! While travel through the gates in their local Galactic cluster was achievable (The Goa’uld had long ago invested heavily in energy efficiency and power generation, a necessity when you were outgunned and industry and manpower were your only salvation.), sometimes expensive, but it was commonplace given their empire was spread out over three galaxies. But this? The power packs and generations used to ferry them between gates in a totally different Galactic cluster, had taken nine days to recharge and she was concerned that they might overload on the return trip (And so convinced her mistress to allow them to be left here, after all building more wasn’t an issue.) but they were here, nearly a half billion lightyears away, where no imperial subject, noble or Lotar had gone before.
The power of her mistress had made that possible. Her mistress, Sekhmet-Hathor, Imperial chamberlain and former Empress of the greatest civilization that ever was or ever will be. Mother to the first Prim’tah gifted to the Jaffa, the mother of the Horus and Osiris and even treacherous Egeria, some of their greatest and most tragic Gods. Sister to Apophis and the butcher of the Set’yim; Hathor who burned an entire species into oblivion due to her husband’s infidelity with feline humanoids leader. It was hard for Ishta to reconcile the brutal destroyer of the Set’yim with the woman who pulled her from a grotesque mass grave, ignored the brand of Cronus on her forehead and cleaned her wounds. Who raised her up from a half dead adolescent into a ferocious warrior and master of her personal guard. Twenty-four they were in total, all female Jaffa of varying ages (the youngest being roughly in Jaffa adolescence.), all cast offs, undesirables, and children of renegades. Ishta was two hundred and seventy four years old, physically approaching the end of her youth had risen through the ranks and replaced Horem who had been slain in the same assassination attempt that nearly killed Hathor some two years ago. -Amunet- she thought, she couldn’t prove it, and most would think her mad for thinking a Goa’uld even a peer who was still a Prim’tah could organize such a thing and yet. She was wandering again, but her thoughts were often given to wandering in this cold, primeval place.
“Prime Ishta.” The voice of Ru’hak came to her. She was a young thing, physically she would appear as a thirteen-year-old girl by Lotar standards, yet she was close to twenty-five. Her dark hair and orange tinted skin suggested descent in part from the Jaffa who served the nameless one. Dark brown eyes and her near six feet in height at her age implied she was ancestrally mixed, born in the Jaffa slums across Lotar worlds who use Prim’tah from the lowest races of the Goa’uld. Or had, until Hathor took her and gifted her with a proper Prim’tah and gifted her with a second life. Ru’hak was a language specialist, she’d shown remarkable aptitude in deciphering codes and cyphers as well and that had made her integral to this trip. “The natives have been spotted at the edge of our camp again.”
Ah the natives, grey skinned with long snouts, reptile like features and yet genetically unequivocally similar to the Vanir and Aesir or at least their current forms or so her mistress said. The story of the Asgard was one the Chamberlain knew well courtesy of Ra’s tenure inside Odin, but Ishta still had trouble understanding it. They were incredibly primitive, very clearly new to sentience, fashioning crude wood and stone tools. They had shown no outward signs of aggression, merely gazing curiously and Ru’hak passed her time listening to their language hidden from them and trying to learn it. Small vessels could be seen in the shadows of the mountains, Gate hopping transports that looked like large cans of the variety some of the more advanced Lotar worlds used. They were allegedly based upon a design Thoth found in a Lantean ruin some eighty thousand years ago, but where they had created a basic transport. His were shielded and able to engage in combat with vessels ten times their size so long as they weren’t too advanced. “Remain aloof from them, do not engage unless they engage us. If they attempt to seek contact, inform them that we won’t be long and apologize for any trespasses against their kind.”
One of them had gone up to examine wreckage in the atmosphere and the other to investigate the ruins in the mountains. Both had been gone for a week, both crews were likely returning with a treasure trove of data that would answer many of the riddles their mistress felt eluded her. Lanteans, Alterans and Ori. The three branches of the ancient race, the three sons of Asuras who had broken off with their respective followers to found new races. Races that, eventually ended up in a bitter civil war that culminated in the extinction of two of the three and the great hubris of the Ori who in their desperate need to survive dared to enslave the forefathers of the Gods. Or so the story went, according to her mistress, all these events occurred several million years ago and only the Ori endured until “recent” history when her mistress and the rest of “Gods” finally put those arrogant demons out of the universe’s misery. Could it be that the Asgardians played their part in that ancient civilization destroying war? Or were they witnessing something else? Either way she was not encouraged, nor did she like the idea. Here, so far from the events that mattered, war loomed, Apophis grew madder and more brazen each passing month. Amunet…all
Something touched her mind, the bemused laughter of her mistress. -Are I not a God? Where is your faith child?- The facetiousness in the “inflection” on the word God always made her smile. The System Lords referred to themselves as Gods amongst the Lotar, but seldom with the Jaffa (Who regarded them as semi divine regardless.) but to her, Hathor was the closest thing to being an actual God that she’d ever seen. With the exception of Ra any way, Apophis as well, he embodied the primitive’s concept of a war god, but the sheer power and arcane knowledge her mistress possessed. Her mistress…
Ishta turned towards the source of the psychic intrusion, a tall slender statue made of silver and platinum that stood motionless at the center of their camp. Her hands intertwined and folded in front her lap, blue and purple fabric fluttering in the cold wind. Hair that was a mix of a blackness that seemed to steal the light and gold and silver streaks fluttered in the wind and obscured a face that even when covered in armor looked to belong to a woman in her early thirties. But she was as old as Ra, for over a hundred thousand years Hathor had relentlessly pursued the goal of keeping the flames of civilization burning as bright as a cannonade of stars.
Here, in a wasteland a universe away she stood motionless, a living statue. She’d taken no food, no water, she barely even breathed. Three weeks, three long, exhausting weeks, a lesser Goa’uld, even a younger peer might be dead now and yet, she endured. From the readings Ishta occasionally took, she hadn’t even weakened at all. -Even a Jaffa would on deaths door after three weeks with no food and water- and that was without getting into what she’d done. Using the gate to amplify her psychic powers, everyone felt it, even the natives here, the near mindless lizard people. Her presence was overwhelming, and her echo was likely felt by much of the Galaxy.
It was insanely dangerous, in the Asgardians backyard, no Goa’uld had ever reached their home territories and they had no idea how the Aesir would react. Yet her mistress had insisted that this was of vital importance to preventing the storm that was to come from turning into an apocalypse. How, Prime Ishta of Olympias had no idea, but she trusted the Goddess more than she trusted her own sense. -Idolatry?- came the playful mental retort, it was rare that she was externally so friendly with her Jaffa, maintaining the social barriers her and her former husband had erected so long ago. But in the confines of their mentalscapes, Ishta had shared decades of laughter, insights and even on a rare occasion’s arguments with her mistress. It had always confused her, how she could be so stringent on the outside and not within. Perhaps it had been remorse over the annihilation of the Set’yim or perhaps it was merely a self-indulgence, as was being here. “It took, one hundred thousand of our vessels to stop ten thousand of theirs.” Ishta turned, to find her mistress had moved from the spot she’d remained anchored like a galaxy around singularity, and she’d done so without any of her Jaffa noticing.
Ishta was accustomed to it but some of her younger guards looked up in surprise, still easily startled. “We are close to them technologically now, only mere centuries behind when in the past the gulf was as wide as a great canyon. Yet, we still do not understand their instantaneous stellar drives. Though. Thoth, Ba’al and Nerus are locked in one of their technologists competitions to see who can unravel that mystery first” Her voice was smooth, reassuring and like Ra one didn’t just hear it from the near motionless mouth, but the chorus of voices, of women, girls, crones and nymphs echoed all around them. Her mistress canted her head ever so slightly, hair billowing in the wind almost as if it were a secondary banner. “Your sisters in blood return with one part of the answer as to why they didn’t simply annihilate us after the death of Freya.”
Ishta could see the cylindrical vessels pick up pace, accelerating to where one caused waves as its wake, they were running frantically. Only to slow when Hathor sent out a mental command, what ever moved them to alarm evidently wasn’t something her mistress considered a threat (Much to Ishta’s annoyance.) It soon became apparent what they were rallying to protect the former Empress from, as there was a loud roaring of something that sounded almost like the turbines the primitive Lotar on more “developed” worlds used to maneuver their supersonic craft. Something shifted and that which had been invisible before appeared -Not so advanced that our sensors couldn’t detect that they were at least in the area- Ishta mused.
What appeared before them was a long, blocky, ugly starship with what looked like different “modules” and generally looked like three bricks tied to a trio of staff blasters. Shining and bronze colored, it looked primitive, yet it was anything but if it could fool their sensors even a tiny bit. The ship itself was rather impressive, roughly the size of their medium sized cruisers, the all-purpose “platform ships” called the Hatak Class. Some eight hundred meters long and looming above them yet not menacingly.
“They heard your call majesty.” Ishta immediately felt like a fool for stating the obvious. A series of lights flickered and Hathor reciprocated, generating a series of lights that blinked in a counter sequence by drawing on the energies the Gate tapped into and using the focusing variant of the ribbon device lesser Goa’uld used to simulate a fraction of the power of the peers.
A beam of light shot down appearing some two meters from Ishta and her liege. The Jaffa circling their mistress, whose eyes glowed a vibrant pink as figures began to take shape within the beam. Slowly, forming six figures, four males, two females, one with red hair and features not unlike Ishta’s own…she blinked.
Lotar?!
No, impossible. If they were associated with that ruined city ship then they couldn’t possibly be Lotar, that vessel predated the speculated age of the human species. The female turned and caught her eye and smiled at the taller and blonder version of herself in Ishta and then brought her fists together in greeting. “Avelin! Soradelfius!” “Hello sister” in Ori so mangled that Ishta could hear the mental flailing of Ru’hak without needing telepathy. “Eio’sum Melora!”
Now this was surreal “Averas! Ei’Sun’mai Primas Ishta” she replied, gently correcting her “counterpart”. Who smiled and nodded eagerly. The rest of the group gazed in wonder at Hathor, muttering in a language that while similar to Ori was not. She caught a few words “Machine?” in a questioning tone, “I thought they were serpents not meks”.
Her lady merely smiled and replied that she was merely wearing armor. They seemed to register this and nod.
Their leader stepped forward, he was a rather ordinary looking man with blond hair, appearing in his middle years by Lotar standards. He too brought his fists together and bowed slightly “Averas! Sifo Ureium Megalias! Nec’Lingiaria Orelus Se’Polias Tempus”
She assumed they were trying to say, “We haven’t spoken Ori in a long time” but what came out was “Language of Orelus, not easily accessible in long time, forgiveness please”. It was pidgin of a dead language and Ishta wished to weep at the assault to her ears. Hathor seemed to understand and Ru’hak announced her as “Imperial Consort, mother of Gods, mistress of the known universe, Royal Chamberlain and high prelate of the Imperial Religion! Sekhmet-Hathor daughter of Tartarus and mother of the House of Ra! Regent of the Imperium of the System Lords!” Hathor’s eyes flashed slightly at that last bit, she was no Regent. No vote had been cast upon that and she did not like false titles.
Still, pleased Ishta immensely to see them bow at that, realizing only now that they were meeting not with some mere official on behalf of the power who organized this clandestine meeting, but the rightful sovereign of the great civilization the stars had ever known. -Even here, they see you for what you are mistress-. More whispers in their language, enough that Ru’Haks eyes widened, and she cried out “Alteran!”
Not Ori then, her mistress wouldn’t debase herself by meeting with such remnant vermin nor would any exist but Alteran? Their monstrous sibling race?! Ishta’s eyes narrowed in suspicion but “Melora” spoke now in her own language.
“Negatus! Questrum! Soumos Asuras!” she’d crossed the threshold and taken Ishta’s hands and the woman’s eyes widened at their texture…skin that wasn’t quite skin. There was a pulse, but it wasn’t, it didn’t feel, and a mix of emotions assaulted her. Concern, surprise (and not in a bad way.), wonder and curiosity. -They’re artificial!-
“Nej Ri’hu Goa’uld!”
An exchange of language of names chosen by them to name their race, an exchange of a word of power, perhaps the start of negotiations to something grander.
A universe away.
The greatest of the Goa’uld met speakers of the Asurans.
While The United States Government is briefed on the sheer scale of the threat they face and Drey'ac begins her journey through the intrigues of the Court of Ba'al the former Empress of the known Universe begins to make moves of her own!
Othalla – Dwarf Galaxy orbiting the supergiant Galaxy Ida
The Month of Ouranos (Sixth month of the imperial Calendar)/July Tau’Ri reckoning
By all accounts this planet was a graveyard. Cold, windswept marshlands extended as far as her eyes could make out ending at what her combat helmet told her was a mountain range that had been broken. Broken by the fall of an immense vessel larger than anything that the Goa’uld had ever built (Or so she believed). She’d dispatched scouts to visit the great ruin, a vessel shaped like a city that reminded her all too much of the fabled Atlantis, the massive wonder created by the Alliance of the four Ancient Powers. Combining the technologies of the Asgard, the Fyryns, the Ori and even the arcane knowledge of the Nox. It was said to be both an ark for the survival of the remaining Ori and Fyryns and the means to defeat the revolution that was quickly evolving into an empire all its own. Allegedly it had the capability to match the industrial power of the Imperium in its early days and was so well defended it was said to be unassailable, with hybrid weapon systems that would have torn through their fleets.
So much for that, the mythical Atlantis was such a threat Anubis martialed the entire armada of the System Lords and stormed the world where it was supposedly being built. Oh sure, there were evidence of a construction facility, but little else. A myth, one that seemed to have been murdered in its cradle by the brother of her mistress. A cold wind passed through her platinum blond hair, causing even her Jaffa physiology to shiver. In the distance, the clear crystalline Asgardian Stargate shimmered in the rising of this planet’s second sun. Ten locks, ten! While travel through the gates in their local Galactic cluster was achievable (The Goa’uld had long ago invested heavily in energy efficiency and power generation, a necessity when you were outgunned and industry and manpower were your only salvation.), sometimes expensive, but it was commonplace given their empire was spread out over three galaxies. But this? The power packs and generations used to ferry them between gates in a totally different Galactic cluster, had taken nine days to recharge and she was concerned that they might overload on the return trip (And so convinced her mistress to allow them to be left here, after all building more wasn’t an issue.) but they were here, nearly a half billion lightyears away, where no imperial subject, noble or Lotar had gone before.
The power of her mistress had made that possible. Her mistress, Sekhmet-Hathor, Imperial chamberlain and former Empress of the greatest civilization that ever was or ever will be. Mother to the first Prim’tah gifted to the Jaffa, the mother of the Horus and Osiris and even treacherous Egeria, some of their greatest and most tragic Gods. Sister to Apophis and the butcher of the Set’yim; Hathor who burned an entire species into oblivion due to her husband’s infidelity with feline humanoids leader. It was hard for Ishta to reconcile the brutal destroyer of the Set’yim with the woman who pulled her from a grotesque mass grave, ignored the brand of Cronus on her forehead and cleaned her wounds. Who raised her up from a half dead adolescent into a ferocious warrior and master of her personal guard. Twenty-four they were in total, all female Jaffa of varying ages (the youngest being roughly in Jaffa adolescence.), all cast offs, undesirables, and children of renegades. Ishta was two hundred and seventy four years old, physically approaching the end of her youth had risen through the ranks and replaced Horem who had been slain in the same assassination attempt that nearly killed Hathor some two years ago. -Amunet- she thought, she couldn’t prove it, and most would think her mad for thinking a Goa’uld even a peer who was still a Prim’tah could organize such a thing and yet. She was wandering again, but her thoughts were often given to wandering in this cold, primeval place.
“Prime Ishta.” The voice of Ru’hak came to her. She was a young thing, physically she would appear as a thirteen-year-old girl by Lotar standards, yet she was close to twenty-five. Her dark hair and orange tinted skin suggested descent in part from the Jaffa who served the nameless one. Dark brown eyes and her near six feet in height at her age implied she was ancestrally mixed, born in the Jaffa slums across Lotar worlds who use Prim’tah from the lowest races of the Goa’uld. Or had, until Hathor took her and gifted her with a proper Prim’tah and gifted her with a second life. Ru’hak was a language specialist, she’d shown remarkable aptitude in deciphering codes and cyphers as well and that had made her integral to this trip. “The natives have been spotted at the edge of our camp again.”
Ah the natives, grey skinned with long snouts, reptile like features and yet genetically unequivocally similar to the Vanir and Aesir or at least their current forms or so her mistress said. The story of the Asgard was one the Chamberlain knew well courtesy of Ra’s tenure inside Odin, but Ishta still had trouble understanding it. They were incredibly primitive, very clearly new to sentience, fashioning crude wood and stone tools. They had shown no outward signs of aggression, merely gazing curiously and Ru’hak passed her time listening to their language hidden from them and trying to learn it. Small vessels could be seen in the shadows of the mountains, Gate hopping transports that looked like large cans of the variety some of the more advanced Lotar worlds used. They were allegedly based upon a design Thoth found in a Lantean ruin some eighty thousand years ago, but where they had created a basic transport. His were shielded and able to engage in combat with vessels ten times their size so long as they weren’t too advanced. “Remain aloof from them, do not engage unless they engage us. If they attempt to seek contact, inform them that we won’t be long and apologize for any trespasses against their kind.”
One of them had gone up to examine wreckage in the atmosphere and the other to investigate the ruins in the mountains. Both had been gone for a week, both crews were likely returning with a treasure trove of data that would answer many of the riddles their mistress felt eluded her. Lanteans, Alterans and Ori. The three branches of the ancient race, the three sons of Asuras who had broken off with their respective followers to found new races. Races that, eventually ended up in a bitter civil war that culminated in the extinction of two of the three and the great hubris of the Ori who in their desperate need to survive dared to enslave the forefathers of the Gods. Or so the story went, according to her mistress, all these events occurred several million years ago and only the Ori endured until “recent” history when her mistress and the rest of “Gods” finally put those arrogant demons out of the universe’s misery. Could it be that the Asgardians played their part in that ancient civilization destroying war? Or were they witnessing something else? Either way she was not encouraged, nor did she like the idea. Here, so far from the events that mattered, war loomed, Apophis grew madder and more brazen each passing month. Amunet…all
Something touched her mind, the bemused laughter of her mistress. -Are I not a God? Where is your faith child?- The facetiousness in the “inflection” on the word God always made her smile. The System Lords referred to themselves as Gods amongst the Lotar, but seldom with the Jaffa (Who regarded them as semi divine regardless.) but to her, Hathor was the closest thing to being an actual God that she’d ever seen. With the exception of Ra any way, Apophis as well, he embodied the primitive’s concept of a war god, but the sheer power and arcane knowledge her mistress possessed. Her mistress…
Ishta turned towards the source of the psychic intrusion, a tall slender statue made of silver and platinum that stood motionless at the center of their camp. Her hands intertwined and folded in front her lap, blue and purple fabric fluttering in the cold wind. Hair that was a mix of a blackness that seemed to steal the light and gold and silver streaks fluttered in the wind and obscured a face that even when covered in armor looked to belong to a woman in her early thirties. But she was as old as Ra, for over a hundred thousand years Hathor had relentlessly pursued the goal of keeping the flames of civilization burning as bright as a cannonade of stars.
Here, in a wasteland a universe away she stood motionless, a living statue. She’d taken no food, no water, she barely even breathed. Three weeks, three long, exhausting weeks, a lesser Goa’uld, even a younger peer might be dead now and yet, she endured. From the readings Ishta occasionally took, she hadn’t even weakened at all. -Even a Jaffa would on deaths door after three weeks with no food and water- and that was without getting into what she’d done. Using the gate to amplify her psychic powers, everyone felt it, even the natives here, the near mindless lizard people. Her presence was overwhelming, and her echo was likely felt by much of the Galaxy.
It was insanely dangerous, in the Asgardians backyard, no Goa’uld had ever reached their home territories and they had no idea how the Aesir would react. Yet her mistress had insisted that this was of vital importance to preventing the storm that was to come from turning into an apocalypse. How, Prime Ishta of Olympias had no idea, but she trusted the Goddess more than she trusted her own sense. -Idolatry?- came the playful mental retort, it was rare that she was externally so friendly with her Jaffa, maintaining the social barriers her and her former husband had erected so long ago. But in the confines of their mentalscapes, Ishta had shared decades of laughter, insights and even on a rare occasion’s arguments with her mistress. It had always confused her, how she could be so stringent on the outside and not within. Perhaps it had been remorse over the annihilation of the Set’yim or perhaps it was merely a self-indulgence, as was being here. “It took, one hundred thousand of our vessels to stop ten thousand of theirs.” Ishta turned, to find her mistress had moved from the spot she’d remained anchored like a galaxy around singularity, and she’d done so without any of her Jaffa noticing.
Ishta was accustomed to it but some of her younger guards looked up in surprise, still easily startled. “We are close to them technologically now, only mere centuries behind when in the past the gulf was as wide as a great canyon. Yet, we still do not understand their instantaneous stellar drives. Though. Thoth, Ba’al and Nerus are locked in one of their technologists competitions to see who can unravel that mystery first” Her voice was smooth, reassuring and like Ra one didn’t just hear it from the near motionless mouth, but the chorus of voices, of women, girls, crones and nymphs echoed all around them. Her mistress canted her head ever so slightly, hair billowing in the wind almost as if it were a secondary banner. “Your sisters in blood return with one part of the answer as to why they didn’t simply annihilate us after the death of Freya.”
Ishta could see the cylindrical vessels pick up pace, accelerating to where one caused waves as its wake, they were running frantically. Only to slow when Hathor sent out a mental command, what ever moved them to alarm evidently wasn’t something her mistress considered a threat (Much to Ishta’s annoyance.) It soon became apparent what they were rallying to protect the former Empress from, as there was a loud roaring of something that sounded almost like the turbines the primitive Lotar on more “developed” worlds used to maneuver their supersonic craft. Something shifted and that which had been invisible before appeared -Not so advanced that our sensors couldn’t detect that they were at least in the area- Ishta mused.
What appeared before them was a long, blocky, ugly starship with what looked like different “modules” and generally looked like three bricks tied to a trio of staff blasters. Shining and bronze colored, it looked primitive, yet it was anything but if it could fool their sensors even a tiny bit. The ship itself was rather impressive, roughly the size of their medium sized cruisers, the all-purpose “platform ships” called the Hatak Class. Some eight hundred meters long and looming above them yet not menacingly.
“They heard your call majesty.” Ishta immediately felt like a fool for stating the obvious. A series of lights flickered and Hathor reciprocated, generating a series of lights that blinked in a counter sequence by drawing on the energies the Gate tapped into and using the focusing variant of the ribbon device lesser Goa’uld used to simulate a fraction of the power of the peers.
A beam of light shot down appearing some two meters from Ishta and her liege. The Jaffa circling their mistress, whose eyes glowed a vibrant pink as figures began to take shape within the beam. Slowly, forming six figures, four males, two females, one with red hair and features not unlike Ishta’s own…she blinked.
Lotar?!
No, impossible. If they were associated with that ruined city ship then they couldn’t possibly be Lotar, that vessel predated the speculated age of the human species. The female turned and caught her eye and smiled at the taller and blonder version of herself in Ishta and then brought her fists together in greeting. “Avelin! Soradelfius!” “Hello sister” in Ori so mangled that Ishta could hear the mental flailing of Ru’hak without needing telepathy. “Eio’sum Melora!”
Now this was surreal “Averas! Ei’Sun’mai Primas Ishta” she replied, gently correcting her “counterpart”. Who smiled and nodded eagerly. The rest of the group gazed in wonder at Hathor, muttering in a language that while similar to Ori was not. She caught a few words “Machine?” in a questioning tone, “I thought they were serpents not meks”.
Her lady merely smiled and replied that she was merely wearing armor. They seemed to register this and nod.
Their leader stepped forward, he was a rather ordinary looking man with blond hair, appearing in his middle years by Lotar standards. He too brought his fists together and bowed slightly “Averas! Sifo Ureium Megalias! Nec’Lingiaria Orelus Se’Polias Tempus”
She assumed they were trying to say, “We haven’t spoken Ori in a long time” but what came out was “Language of Orelus, not easily accessible in long time, forgiveness please”. It was pidgin of a dead language and Ishta wished to weep at the assault to her ears. Hathor seemed to understand and Ru’hak announced her as “Imperial Consort, mother of Gods, mistress of the known universe, Royal Chamberlain and high prelate of the Imperial Religion! Sekhmet-Hathor daughter of Tartarus and mother of the House of Ra! Regent of the Imperium of the System Lords!” Hathor’s eyes flashed slightly at that last bit, she was no Regent. No vote had been cast upon that and she did not like false titles.
Still, pleased Ishta immensely to see them bow at that, realizing only now that they were meeting not with some mere official on behalf of the power who organized this clandestine meeting, but the rightful sovereign of the great civilization the stars had ever known. -Even here, they see you for what you are mistress-. More whispers in their language, enough that Ru’Haks eyes widened, and she cried out “Alteran!”
Not Ori then, her mistress wouldn’t debase herself by meeting with such remnant vermin nor would any exist but Alteran? Their monstrous sibling race?! Ishta’s eyes narrowed in suspicion but “Melora” spoke now in her own language.
“Negatus! Questrum! Soumos Asuras!” she’d crossed the threshold and taken Ishta’s hands and the woman’s eyes widened at their texture…skin that wasn’t quite skin. There was a pulse, but it wasn’t, it didn’t feel, and a mix of emotions assaulted her. Concern, surprise (and not in a bad way.), wonder and curiosity. -They’re artificial!-
“Nej Ri’hu Goa’uld!”
An exchange of language of names chosen by them to name their race, an exchange of a word of power, perhaps the start of negotiations to something grander.
A universe away.
The greatest of the Goa’uld met speakers of the Asurans.
Last edited:
VicSage
Carpenter, Cobbler, Chirugeon, Dataminer.
I finally catch up, and my reward is another chapter? What fortuitous circumstances be this?!
Overall I'm rather enjoying this, thank you for your writing.
There appears to be something missing at the end here.
Overall I'm rather enjoying this, thank you for your writing.
'Bout three more to come before "episode 2 of season 1" is over.
Nope! She just got distracted by Hathor
My bad for not conveying that properly.
VicSage
Carpenter, Cobbler, Chirugeon, Dataminer.
I do have one question I didn't think of. Ba'al is only 600. Is he related to the Biblical one, or is it just a name much like you'd see a guy named Saul who isn't related to the king at all?
He is Ba'al! Son of Bounce, Son of Ball! King of the Ballkans!
I am not sorry for this fever induced madness.
Good question! Ba'al is certainly a mystery ain't he? Where he comes from and the fact that he doesn't seem to belong to any particular lineage of peers seems rather odd don't it?
Also Dat fucking pun
"AATTT LASSTTT AFTER FIFTY THOUSAND YEARS IM FREEE ITS TIME TO CONQUER TAAUURRI!"
Amazingly good.
Hmmm...a Hathor that doesn't just say, "Males, serve me."
Curiouser and curiouser.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Last edited:
Ishta like "Do we get to fight Robots!?" The Jaffa all together don't particularly have problem with synthetic life. They're not too fond of the children of Egeria though.
Hathor wants to make sure her children and her empire survive the coming storm and knows she needs build certain bridges if she is to do that.
Her alliance with the Asurans will mirror that of earth and the Aesir. Of course neither her, nor Naim nor Thor nor Jack have any idea how massive their decisions in this matter will be to their respective survival for a long time yet.
couple seasons down the road, especially when we get to SG:A
I do plan on tackling the spin off. Eventually
Hmmm...a Hathor that doesn't just say, "Males, serve me."
Curiouser and curiouser.
Thanks!
She's as old as Ra and basically was his best gal and helped him build their civilization from the ground up. Her, Yu and Anubis.
I couldn't have her act like a thirst deranged skank.
she needed to be so much more.Her and Jack are probably still going to ene up having drama together but it won't be "and ai molest you and make you a host/Jaffa" type thing.