Earthman....
@Harlock @Spartan303 Since you guys seem to enjoy Hathor's POV.
Also Ishta and Drey'ac meeting the most bad ass fighter pilots in the uncharted territories!
One hundred lightyears from the edge of the imperial space, Apophis Domain: Kre’lyn
“You’ve got to be kidding me!!!” His father’s indignant cry in English rang out through the building which had doubled as his childhood home and “City Hall”. The exasperated tone would ordinarily make the youth, sixteen cycles in age laugh as it was invariably in response to something he’d done. But not today, today D’argo Sun-Crichton shared his father’s concern because it wasn’t him taking up one of those antique Death Gliders, or Farscape 1 out for a spin and pissing off local sector patrols but the immense shadow of what could be none other than the Enkidu the flagship of the militia belonging to Lord Ba’al, youngest and wealthiest of the System Lords (or anyone anywhere really.). Or at least, that’s what their insanely well-paid spies within the ranks of Peacekeeper High Command had told them. Ba’al was usually far more discrete than this and hid most of his strength and concealed the extent of his technological achievements.
But he was here now, flanked by Elann and Druzus two of the surviving four hybrid Gunships uncle Crais had managed to create when he triumphantly came back from the dead eleven cycles ago. “I knew it! I knew it!” his father was ranting again “What did I say? Sooner or later, he was going to frell us! But nooo “John he’s a changed man” right, came back from the dead and all that and friends with the damn snake in the brains!”
John Crichton had spent the first few years of his exile believing the Peacekeepers and Scarrens were the dominant superpowers of the Galaxy, his father had not handled the realization that those two demons of his past were little more than minor powers scrapping for their piece of leftovers in the shadow of a giant that they both desperately tried to avoid waking up particularly well. When he learned about what the Goa’uld were, more specifically their leadership caste, he’d gotten properly paranoid about any newcomers to the world he’d settled despite reassurances that “they don’t operate like that because they consider it demeaning.”.
“I knew we shouldn’t have picked a planet with a Stargate to settle” Crichton grumbled. Throwing on one of his best jackets, trying to look formal, while also trying to hide the body armor and guns. They’d settled this world based off intel provided by Rygel and Crais, that while it was a world along a commerce route for the empire it was sparsely populated and more like a rest stop for space truckers than a major hub. There were about eight million permanent residents here, dispersed around one of the four continents that covered the surface of the planet Kre’lyn as it was called by the locals. John and Aeryn had taken up a quiet retirement on a large ranch with a beach on its eastern border only to eventually be asked to run the local space cops, which resulted in John becoming mayor of a small “town” in space. Not that he minded, he enjoyed working with the different aliens here, the riddle of why so many seemed to have human DNA intrigued him and Aeryn had taken to being a gruff police chief like a fish to water.
They just want to talk john.
His mother’s voice echoed in both their ears as “Deke” as he was called flanked his father catching a pulse rifle tossed into his hand by one of the local security boys. Personally, he didn’t see what the fuss was about, Crais might have been an enemy once, but he had come back from the dead humbled and had been a valued friend ever since. Besides…Jaffa weren’t that bad. He had run into them during trade missions that his father let him go on, most of them treated him with a sort of mild neglect due to his Sebacean heritage and tended to be more tolerant of him when he revealed he was part human (Or Lotar as everyone called it.), which was a stark contrast to most Sebacean’s who just hated him outright for being a half-breed. Whatever bigotry and warrior’s pride that made the Jaffa look down upon the Peacekeepers due to the failings of their genetic makeup it was preferable to being shot on sight. And then there was Amret, the Jaffa peace officer he had a thing with last year, she certainly didn’t hold his heritage against him until things got serious between them anyway.
Yeah, that sucked.
“How many times have we heard that before huh?”
Not from them.
“No, we always stayed out of the big dogs’ yards…Now they’re coming to us!” Which was an entirely different level of weird. They were worshipped as Gods by everyone and their mother out here, even the Peacekeepers who had that weird Hypersapce cult still maintained the System Lords as divine beings in their own way. They were larger than life figures who ruled entire galaxies in some cases and who were spoken of in hushed whispers, half a prayer and half a horror story.
And then there was the fall of the Scarren Empire, six hundred ships commanded by one Jaffa fleet Captain (their equivalent of a Peacekeeper Commandant or some high tier Admiral from what D’argo told him.), they had burned through a Scarren fleet numbering six thousand without a single loss in under half a solar day and from what John could see aboard Moya, they only took that long because they were feeling lazy. He’d never seen cap ships move that fast, vessels that were half the size of a Command Carrier dancing around like a prowler pulling maneuvers that shouldn’t be possible for ships that large and the range on those weapons.
Pilot only received one communique during that time. “Leave”.
Moya didn’t need to be told twice.
The skies above them were in an odd twilight as the crescent blade like vessel partially blocked out the sun. He could see the shadows of the two combat leviathans, they were enormous despite their young ages and then he saw them, the famous Hatak’s and Alkesh class vessels that made up the backbone of the navies of the Imperium, each one entering orbit and doing a flyby. Something Aeryn told him was their version of a salute.
John didn’t know what was worse, that they knew who he was or that they apparently respected his accomplishments enough to give him the Snakemen version of a blue angel flyby. Ahead of John his son was rushing out to the transport pod that landed, with D’argo exiting to greet his Godson. D had been trapped behind enemy lines when Apophis’s navy came knocking on Scarren space and apparently spent several days in a medically induced coma but had been rescued by them and given safe transport to Hynerean space where he’d been working for Rygel as a mercenary to build up the Frog kings armies. Apparently, Buckwheat smelled something rotten from Imperium and was worried about the fallout from it. That had been a while ago and everyone hoped he was wrong. “I’m gonna kill him!” Crichton roared. “I’m gonna put one right between the frelling eyes!”
D’argo walked towards him, Deke in tow “John, do not shoot Crais. Do not do anything to provoke them.”
“Yeah, yeah, what the hell are you doing here anyway?”
“I was visiting Pilot and I’d hoped to borrow your son for his psychic abilities.” D’argo added and when John gave him a murderous glare the Luxan rolled his eyes. “He’s old enough John! When I was his age, I was already blooded and a man..”
“We’ll talk about this later..If there is a later.” John muttered, he wanted his son nowhere near Hynerean politics but if this mountain of dren parked in orbit was anything permanent than Deke was probably better off with Ryg and D than here. Outside, as they headed to the public square in front of city hall, the black Stargate with its pink symbols rising from center of the square, people were gathered, Sebaceans, Lotar of humanoid and alien stock, the citizens of his town. -How the hell did I end up space mayor again? - he thought annoyed.
“You don’t think it’s this..Who’s the one this ship belongs to again?”
“Ba’al.” Deke answered.
D’argo shook his head “No, doubtful, System Lords don’t do these things, they don’t come out of their Crownworlds to visit backwaters like this. Frell, in ten thousand cycles of our history only once did a System Lord visit Luxan space and it is spoken of in legends more than truth.” People were gathered, and it was almost, religious.
Fear, elation, apprehension, all of these emotions and more he saw on their faces.
“I don’t know why a full battlegroup is here John, but the person I spoke to was fleet Captain Drey’ac.”
D’argo’s eyes widened. “John..what did you do?”
“Nothing! Wait Drey, she’s the one who blew up the Scarrens?”
Both answered in the affirmative and Crichton laughed. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and BETTER!”
"She insists they come in peace and only wish to speak to you; she swears on her honor that no one will fire a shot.”
“pffttt yeah right.”
John, you should trust her.
“Fat chance..”
“To be fair, the disparity between what we can do and what they can do is about as bad as the disparity between what you’ve told me about earth and us.” D’argo cautioned. “If she really wanted to.”
“Right, she’d just blow us all up, I get it D.” he paused looking up and at D’argo and his son both were guarded and nervous but there was something else in their eyes..excitement? Excitement?! “The frell is wrong with you two?!”
“John..Drey’ac and her husband are some of the greatest living warriors. There isn’t a Luxan or a Peacekeeper alive who hasn’t studied their tactics during the Titans rebellion or their raid on Lucia or their war against the Roshna dealers in the uncharted territories. Or their..”
“She became a top-rated pilot before she was even an adolescent John. Her, aerial combat treatises were required reading when I was in flight school”
“Yeah, you’re meeting Chuck Yeager slash James Doolittle, I get it, just remember, these guys conquer other planets and serve snakes who eat brains!”
“Of course..right.” D’argo muttered before frowning “I am underdressed”
“OH FOR..” Aeryn’s prowler jetted through the skies at that moment silencing everyone, it circled and then landed on the roof behind them. Suddenly, the skies roared as four black starfighters shaped vaguely like a cross between a scarab and a bird of prey escorting a long diamond shapes ship that was jet lack with no, visible engines appeared in full view of the public. The vessel must have been a shuttle or something, because it didn’t look armed, and it was carved with glyphs in imperial standard and depictions of various figures prospecting for minerals or toiling over scrolls. It was beautiful, all in all, sleek and when a beam of light appeared from its center, shimmying down three golden rings John had to smile in surprise despite himself. “Teleportation tech..mahahahaaann…we are so screwed.”
ten figures began to manifest within the beam, shapes that evolved from shadows into shapes then finally six Jaffa appeared. Three were tall and covered in black armor with a Dragon’s head for their combat helmet with glowing crimson eyes. Each one carrying a sleek black staff one end a long-edged spear tip and the other some kind of gem in the shape of a flower bud. Three were clad in silver and gold, armor that almost seemed to be liquid like. Each of the three wore a falcon head. The other two were clad in armor black and green with the black almost being opaque in its intensity, they had Dragon like helmets that reminded him of the Scarrens only meaner. The only two beings not covered in those nanomachine helmets were two women who looked to like they could pass for an older pair of Crichton’s nieces. One looked to be in her mid to late thirties, the other in her twenties. One was nearly as tall as the tallest Scarren he’d ever seen, she had pale stone like skin and bloodred hair looking almost like some British warrior princess from the time before the Romans. Or rather a reject from a Xena episode and the other? Copper skin and dark green hair, indigo eyes, an odd combination of a Brazilian super model and a cover girl for an anime inspired rock album.
The younger of the two six to eight inches shorter than the other and that still put her half a head taller than Crichton. Those two were adorned in armor that matched the uniforms of both of their Jaffa warriors, but one had a platinum brand on her head, scythe wreathed in lightning and the other a bull like creature encircled by gold. Their capes billowed melodramatically in the wind and while neither woman was armed both looked like they had something mounted on their greaves that could transform into a weapon if needed and both looked like they could outfight a Luxon with ease. John didn’t fail to notice the stressed look on the faces of both women.
Crais stood behind them, his uniform immaculate and an equally distressed look on his face, mixed with..awe? Adulation? Confusion?
The crowd gasped, his wife who managed to run from the building and towards the group stopped and sported a look of pure shock on her face. A mix of horror, indignation, pain and wonder…
John grumbled, he didn’t like seeing everyone bow and whisper, he didn’t like seeing even D’argo dumbstruck and he was about to open his mouth until he felt his son elbow him then shake his head firmly. “Not now Dad.”
The nudge had shocked him out of his confusion and frustration and caused him to focus on the being in the center.
Cloaked in purples and blues, dressed every bit of a queen from one of those old sword and sorcery movies he loved so much when he was a kid in college. Platinum skin shimmered, wait no it wasn’t skin it was some sort of armor that seemed to grow out of her skin in segments and form around her body, black hair with streaks of silver fell around her shoulders and chest and her eyes glowed pink.
This was insane, a living statue with almost perfectly regal poise that slowly canted its head to one side and smiled lightly. Crichton assessed her in the silence, she was actually kind of beautiful in a pants crapping brain eating sort of way. When she spoke, it was with a thousand voices each noble, forceful and oddly soothing and his experiences with freaky aliens with mental powers armored him against the subtle effects but what he couldn’t stop from flooring him was how it responded in heavily accented American.
“Comundyr Kreyton”
The rest came out in high Imperial. “We hope we haven’t mangled thy name and former status. Admiral Crais has been a most patient tutor with us.” Or at least that was how the translation microbes parsed it to his brain. John Crichton had an odd feeling that her actual choice of words was far less imperious and far more personal but thems were the breaks.
“You, did better than most..Umm.” Okay, he had to be diplomatic, not just because of the huge honking ships in orbit but because of the murder stares he was getting from half his family. “On behalf of the people of my little Podunk planet. Welcome..la..miss?”
The two Jaffa with the bling on their heads stamped their feet and the other six snapped to attention. Each banged their staffs against their armored thighs. The two women spoke in unison, eerily synchronized. “Commander John Crichton, Governor of Kre’lyn you stand before the mother of the Jaffa and Sebacean races! She who is one of the two fires at the center of the civilized Universe, Imperial Consort, Chamberlain of the Imperium of the System Lords, once Empress, prelate of the Imperial religion and..Mother of Gods! SEKHMET-HATHOR!”
The crowd went completely silent and to John’s annoyance D’argo dropped to one knee and the hundred or so people who gathered in the crowd did likewise, some were even weeping.
Mother of the Gods.
It wasn’t enough that a Brain Snake chief was here, the queen bitch of the universe herself showed up? And knew his rank.
Suddenly the reports of they’d heard of Amun-Ra being murdered by the Tau’Ri, Tau’ri….The first world, the mythical home of much of the Lotar races…The..Oh..Frell.
John Crichton did his best to remain calm, he was too damn old for this and too damn frazzled from years of running for his life. He walked forward and met the group head on, eying them all before settling his gaze on the living statue. “Listen, your majesty?”
“Majestic eminence.” The tall redhead corrected, eliciting something of an amused laugh from the statue.
“R..right..” He turned to the figure. “I just…Crais, translate for me..please.” he muttered making a mental note to shoot him later for spilling the beans on where he was. “Please tell the brain eating snake Queen that whatever the US did, I spent like five minutes in the Space Force and I’ve been out of IASA since I got thrown into this part of the Galaxy and my planet probably thinks I’m dead. So I’m not sure why the freeeell..She thinks I’m of any use to her.”
Crais gave him a look that he hadn’t seen since the man was strapped to an aurora chair. “John you can’t be serious…”
Another chorus of soft laughs echoed. “M..More..Like..sp..spin? No, spinal, yes spinal is correct word; Spinal Snakes..but..” The statue again paused, trying to capture the correct words. “I think..we are..more..like..mammal..than..reptile.” she paused for effect seemingly taking the measure of Crichton before continuing. “I…Am not here, for veng” “To avenge” John corrected before internally cringing.
“Ah, Sankyu..I am not here, to avenge husband. But to..ask you, for help with..understanding better, your people.”
Somehow, that seemed almost worse. “W..why? No offense but, you guys pretty much run the universe, right? Why don’t you just park in orbit around earth and yell at them for killing your ex.”
A metallic “eyebrow” lifted. “How..y..you..know ex?”
Crichton grinned. “Tone of voice.” Goddess or not, married for twenty years or not it was nice to know he could still spot a divorcee from a mile away. “And you can speak in your language your royal snakeness, my translator microbes read you just fine though they think you’re some kind amateur hour Shakespeare when they do.”
She seemed to understand the implication and proceeded with a hint of amusement in her ancient eyes. “Thou art most kind then Commander Crichton, we have not had the occasion to learn a new tongue in a long time. We do not “park” fleets upon your world for the same reason we imagine thou doth not pillage every Shadow Repository ye come across nor shoot every Peacekeeper thou encounter. We seek understanding, mayhap congress with thy kindred. Seeketh us peace and not discord with Tau’Ri as we prepare for a great and terrible storm. We shall not tarry long nor disturb the peace thou hath built for thy kin and people here. But we would have thy insights, should Crichton of Tau’Ri wish to perform one last duty for his kind.”
Well, he didn’t expect the brain eating snake mammals to be weirdly friendly. He was still on edge, but that was a step in the right direction. And the absurdity of it all had him laughing. “Gah..Frell..Lady, really?”
“Majestic Eminence” hissed the redhead again.
“Man…Humans are either the luckiest people out there or we’re the most frelled.” Crichton continued.
“Maddest.” Proffered the queen bitch of the universe. It was meant to be humorous, and he appreciated the attempt at humor but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was the correct answer. After a moment, he let out a sigh and shook his head. “Yeah sure, what the hell, I mean it’s not like the survival of my planet or the whole universe is at stake if I give the wrong advice.”
“Tempt not fate, Commander.”
Oh frell.
“..Ooohhkaayy..Well…umm dinner at my place?”
It nodded seemingly catching the sarcasm and taking the initiative to guide the meeting from here for long enough for John to get bearings straight. What the frell was he getting himself into this time.
My name is john Crichton. An astronaut, twenty-one years ago I was shot through a Wormhole, and for years I was pursued by insane military commanders. I got me a wife, a son and two daughters, one who I’ll never know. I thought I had found peace being mayor of jerkwater milkyway but now I’m being drafted by this insanely hot alien Goddess to help her stop a cosmic war…I’m doing everything I can..I’m just looking for a quiet place to retire and be a family man
Also Ishta and Drey'ac meeting the most bad ass fighter pilots in the uncharted territories!
One hundred lightyears from the edge of the imperial space, Apophis Domain: Kre’lyn
“You’ve got to be kidding me!!!” His father’s indignant cry in English rang out through the building which had doubled as his childhood home and “City Hall”. The exasperated tone would ordinarily make the youth, sixteen cycles in age laugh as it was invariably in response to something he’d done. But not today, today D’argo Sun-Crichton shared his father’s concern because it wasn’t him taking up one of those antique Death Gliders, or Farscape 1 out for a spin and pissing off local sector patrols but the immense shadow of what could be none other than the Enkidu the flagship of the militia belonging to Lord Ba’al, youngest and wealthiest of the System Lords (or anyone anywhere really.). Or at least, that’s what their insanely well-paid spies within the ranks of Peacekeeper High Command had told them. Ba’al was usually far more discrete than this and hid most of his strength and concealed the extent of his technological achievements.
But he was here now, flanked by Elann and Druzus two of the surviving four hybrid Gunships uncle Crais had managed to create when he triumphantly came back from the dead eleven cycles ago. “I knew it! I knew it!” his father was ranting again “What did I say? Sooner or later, he was going to frell us! But nooo “John he’s a changed man” right, came back from the dead and all that and friends with the damn snake in the brains!”
John Crichton had spent the first few years of his exile believing the Peacekeepers and Scarrens were the dominant superpowers of the Galaxy, his father had not handled the realization that those two demons of his past were little more than minor powers scrapping for their piece of leftovers in the shadow of a giant that they both desperately tried to avoid waking up particularly well. When he learned about what the Goa’uld were, more specifically their leadership caste, he’d gotten properly paranoid about any newcomers to the world he’d settled despite reassurances that “they don’t operate like that because they consider it demeaning.”.
“I knew we shouldn’t have picked a planet with a Stargate to settle” Crichton grumbled. Throwing on one of his best jackets, trying to look formal, while also trying to hide the body armor and guns. They’d settled this world based off intel provided by Rygel and Crais, that while it was a world along a commerce route for the empire it was sparsely populated and more like a rest stop for space truckers than a major hub. There were about eight million permanent residents here, dispersed around one of the four continents that covered the surface of the planet Kre’lyn as it was called by the locals. John and Aeryn had taken up a quiet retirement on a large ranch with a beach on its eastern border only to eventually be asked to run the local space cops, which resulted in John becoming mayor of a small “town” in space. Not that he minded, he enjoyed working with the different aliens here, the riddle of why so many seemed to have human DNA intrigued him and Aeryn had taken to being a gruff police chief like a fish to water.
They just want to talk john.
His mother’s voice echoed in both their ears as “Deke” as he was called flanked his father catching a pulse rifle tossed into his hand by one of the local security boys. Personally, he didn’t see what the fuss was about, Crais might have been an enemy once, but he had come back from the dead humbled and had been a valued friend ever since. Besides…Jaffa weren’t that bad. He had run into them during trade missions that his father let him go on, most of them treated him with a sort of mild neglect due to his Sebacean heritage and tended to be more tolerant of him when he revealed he was part human (Or Lotar as everyone called it.), which was a stark contrast to most Sebacean’s who just hated him outright for being a half-breed. Whatever bigotry and warrior’s pride that made the Jaffa look down upon the Peacekeepers due to the failings of their genetic makeup it was preferable to being shot on sight. And then there was Amret, the Jaffa peace officer he had a thing with last year, she certainly didn’t hold his heritage against him until things got serious between them anyway.
Yeah, that sucked.
“How many times have we heard that before huh?”
Not from them.
“No, we always stayed out of the big dogs’ yards…Now they’re coming to us!” Which was an entirely different level of weird. They were worshipped as Gods by everyone and their mother out here, even the Peacekeepers who had that weird Hypersapce cult still maintained the System Lords as divine beings in their own way. They were larger than life figures who ruled entire galaxies in some cases and who were spoken of in hushed whispers, half a prayer and half a horror story.
And then there was the fall of the Scarren Empire, six hundred ships commanded by one Jaffa fleet Captain (their equivalent of a Peacekeeper Commandant or some high tier Admiral from what D’argo told him.), they had burned through a Scarren fleet numbering six thousand without a single loss in under half a solar day and from what John could see aboard Moya, they only took that long because they were feeling lazy. He’d never seen cap ships move that fast, vessels that were half the size of a Command Carrier dancing around like a prowler pulling maneuvers that shouldn’t be possible for ships that large and the range on those weapons.
Pilot only received one communique during that time. “Leave”.
Moya didn’t need to be told twice.
The skies above them were in an odd twilight as the crescent blade like vessel partially blocked out the sun. He could see the shadows of the two combat leviathans, they were enormous despite their young ages and then he saw them, the famous Hatak’s and Alkesh class vessels that made up the backbone of the navies of the Imperium, each one entering orbit and doing a flyby. Something Aeryn told him was their version of a salute.
John didn’t know what was worse, that they knew who he was or that they apparently respected his accomplishments enough to give him the Snakemen version of a blue angel flyby. Ahead of John his son was rushing out to the transport pod that landed, with D’argo exiting to greet his Godson. D had been trapped behind enemy lines when Apophis’s navy came knocking on Scarren space and apparently spent several days in a medically induced coma but had been rescued by them and given safe transport to Hynerean space where he’d been working for Rygel as a mercenary to build up the Frog kings armies. Apparently, Buckwheat smelled something rotten from Imperium and was worried about the fallout from it. That had been a while ago and everyone hoped he was wrong. “I’m gonna kill him!” Crichton roared. “I’m gonna put one right between the frelling eyes!”
D’argo walked towards him, Deke in tow “John, do not shoot Crais. Do not do anything to provoke them.”
“Yeah, yeah, what the hell are you doing here anyway?”
“I was visiting Pilot and I’d hoped to borrow your son for his psychic abilities.” D’argo added and when John gave him a murderous glare the Luxan rolled his eyes. “He’s old enough John! When I was his age, I was already blooded and a man..”
“We’ll talk about this later..If there is a later.” John muttered, he wanted his son nowhere near Hynerean politics but if this mountain of dren parked in orbit was anything permanent than Deke was probably better off with Ryg and D than here. Outside, as they headed to the public square in front of city hall, the black Stargate with its pink symbols rising from center of the square, people were gathered, Sebaceans, Lotar of humanoid and alien stock, the citizens of his town. -How the hell did I end up space mayor again? - he thought annoyed.
“You don’t think it’s this..Who’s the one this ship belongs to again?”
“Ba’al.” Deke answered.
D’argo shook his head “No, doubtful, System Lords don’t do these things, they don’t come out of their Crownworlds to visit backwaters like this. Frell, in ten thousand cycles of our history only once did a System Lord visit Luxan space and it is spoken of in legends more than truth.” People were gathered, and it was almost, religious.
Fear, elation, apprehension, all of these emotions and more he saw on their faces.
“I don’t know why a full battlegroup is here John, but the person I spoke to was fleet Captain Drey’ac.”
D’argo’s eyes widened. “John..what did you do?”
“Nothing! Wait Drey, she’s the one who blew up the Scarrens?”
Both answered in the affirmative and Crichton laughed. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and BETTER!”
"She insists they come in peace and only wish to speak to you; she swears on her honor that no one will fire a shot.”
“pffttt yeah right.”
John, you should trust her.
“Fat chance..”
“To be fair, the disparity between what we can do and what they can do is about as bad as the disparity between what you’ve told me about earth and us.” D’argo cautioned. “If she really wanted to.”
“Right, she’d just blow us all up, I get it D.” he paused looking up and at D’argo and his son both were guarded and nervous but there was something else in their eyes..excitement? Excitement?! “The frell is wrong with you two?!”
“John..Drey’ac and her husband are some of the greatest living warriors. There isn’t a Luxan or a Peacekeeper alive who hasn’t studied their tactics during the Titans rebellion or their raid on Lucia or their war against the Roshna dealers in the uncharted territories. Or their..”
“She became a top-rated pilot before she was even an adolescent John. Her, aerial combat treatises were required reading when I was in flight school”
“Yeah, you’re meeting Chuck Yeager slash James Doolittle, I get it, just remember, these guys conquer other planets and serve snakes who eat brains!”
“Of course..right.” D’argo muttered before frowning “I am underdressed”
“OH FOR..” Aeryn’s prowler jetted through the skies at that moment silencing everyone, it circled and then landed on the roof behind them. Suddenly, the skies roared as four black starfighters shaped vaguely like a cross between a scarab and a bird of prey escorting a long diamond shapes ship that was jet lack with no, visible engines appeared in full view of the public. The vessel must have been a shuttle or something, because it didn’t look armed, and it was carved with glyphs in imperial standard and depictions of various figures prospecting for minerals or toiling over scrolls. It was beautiful, all in all, sleek and when a beam of light appeared from its center, shimmying down three golden rings John had to smile in surprise despite himself. “Teleportation tech..mahahahaaann…we are so screwed.”
ten figures began to manifest within the beam, shapes that evolved from shadows into shapes then finally six Jaffa appeared. Three were tall and covered in black armor with a Dragon’s head for their combat helmet with glowing crimson eyes. Each one carrying a sleek black staff one end a long-edged spear tip and the other some kind of gem in the shape of a flower bud. Three were clad in silver and gold, armor that almost seemed to be liquid like. Each of the three wore a falcon head. The other two were clad in armor black and green with the black almost being opaque in its intensity, they had Dragon like helmets that reminded him of the Scarrens only meaner. The only two beings not covered in those nanomachine helmets were two women who looked to like they could pass for an older pair of Crichton’s nieces. One looked to be in her mid to late thirties, the other in her twenties. One was nearly as tall as the tallest Scarren he’d ever seen, she had pale stone like skin and bloodred hair looking almost like some British warrior princess from the time before the Romans. Or rather a reject from a Xena episode and the other? Copper skin and dark green hair, indigo eyes, an odd combination of a Brazilian super model and a cover girl for an anime inspired rock album.
The younger of the two six to eight inches shorter than the other and that still put her half a head taller than Crichton. Those two were adorned in armor that matched the uniforms of both of their Jaffa warriors, but one had a platinum brand on her head, scythe wreathed in lightning and the other a bull like creature encircled by gold. Their capes billowed melodramatically in the wind and while neither woman was armed both looked like they had something mounted on their greaves that could transform into a weapon if needed and both looked like they could outfight a Luxon with ease. John didn’t fail to notice the stressed look on the faces of both women.
Crais stood behind them, his uniform immaculate and an equally distressed look on his face, mixed with..awe? Adulation? Confusion?
The crowd gasped, his wife who managed to run from the building and towards the group stopped and sported a look of pure shock on her face. A mix of horror, indignation, pain and wonder…
John grumbled, he didn’t like seeing everyone bow and whisper, he didn’t like seeing even D’argo dumbstruck and he was about to open his mouth until he felt his son elbow him then shake his head firmly. “Not now Dad.”
The nudge had shocked him out of his confusion and frustration and caused him to focus on the being in the center.
Cloaked in purples and blues, dressed every bit of a queen from one of those old sword and sorcery movies he loved so much when he was a kid in college. Platinum skin shimmered, wait no it wasn’t skin it was some sort of armor that seemed to grow out of her skin in segments and form around her body, black hair with streaks of silver fell around her shoulders and chest and her eyes glowed pink.
This was insane, a living statue with almost perfectly regal poise that slowly canted its head to one side and smiled lightly. Crichton assessed her in the silence, she was actually kind of beautiful in a pants crapping brain eating sort of way. When she spoke, it was with a thousand voices each noble, forceful and oddly soothing and his experiences with freaky aliens with mental powers armored him against the subtle effects but what he couldn’t stop from flooring him was how it responded in heavily accented American.
“Comundyr Kreyton”
The rest came out in high Imperial. “We hope we haven’t mangled thy name and former status. Admiral Crais has been a most patient tutor with us.” Or at least that was how the translation microbes parsed it to his brain. John Crichton had an odd feeling that her actual choice of words was far less imperious and far more personal but thems were the breaks.
“You, did better than most..Umm.” Okay, he had to be diplomatic, not just because of the huge honking ships in orbit but because of the murder stares he was getting from half his family. “On behalf of the people of my little Podunk planet. Welcome..la..miss?”
The two Jaffa with the bling on their heads stamped their feet and the other six snapped to attention. Each banged their staffs against their armored thighs. The two women spoke in unison, eerily synchronized. “Commander John Crichton, Governor of Kre’lyn you stand before the mother of the Jaffa and Sebacean races! She who is one of the two fires at the center of the civilized Universe, Imperial Consort, Chamberlain of the Imperium of the System Lords, once Empress, prelate of the Imperial religion and..Mother of Gods! SEKHMET-HATHOR!”
The crowd went completely silent and to John’s annoyance D’argo dropped to one knee and the hundred or so people who gathered in the crowd did likewise, some were even weeping.
Mother of the Gods.
It wasn’t enough that a Brain Snake chief was here, the queen bitch of the universe herself showed up? And knew his rank.
Suddenly the reports of they’d heard of Amun-Ra being murdered by the Tau’Ri, Tau’ri….The first world, the mythical home of much of the Lotar races…The..Oh..Frell.
John Crichton did his best to remain calm, he was too damn old for this and too damn frazzled from years of running for his life. He walked forward and met the group head on, eying them all before settling his gaze on the living statue. “Listen, your majesty?”
“Majestic eminence.” The tall redhead corrected, eliciting something of an amused laugh from the statue.
“R..right..” He turned to the figure. “I just…Crais, translate for me..please.” he muttered making a mental note to shoot him later for spilling the beans on where he was. “Please tell the brain eating snake Queen that whatever the US did, I spent like five minutes in the Space Force and I’ve been out of IASA since I got thrown into this part of the Galaxy and my planet probably thinks I’m dead. So I’m not sure why the freeeell..She thinks I’m of any use to her.”
Crais gave him a look that he hadn’t seen since the man was strapped to an aurora chair. “John you can’t be serious…”
Another chorus of soft laughs echoed. “M..More..Like..sp..spin? No, spinal, yes spinal is correct word; Spinal Snakes..but..” The statue again paused, trying to capture the correct words. “I think..we are..more..like..mammal..than..reptile.” she paused for effect seemingly taking the measure of Crichton before continuing. “I…Am not here, for veng” “To avenge” John corrected before internally cringing.
“Ah, Sankyu..I am not here, to avenge husband. But to..ask you, for help with..understanding better, your people.”
Somehow, that seemed almost worse. “W..why? No offense but, you guys pretty much run the universe, right? Why don’t you just park in orbit around earth and yell at them for killing your ex.”
A metallic “eyebrow” lifted. “How..y..you..know ex?”
Crichton grinned. “Tone of voice.” Goddess or not, married for twenty years or not it was nice to know he could still spot a divorcee from a mile away. “And you can speak in your language your royal snakeness, my translator microbes read you just fine though they think you’re some kind amateur hour Shakespeare when they do.”
She seemed to understand the implication and proceeded with a hint of amusement in her ancient eyes. “Thou art most kind then Commander Crichton, we have not had the occasion to learn a new tongue in a long time. We do not “park” fleets upon your world for the same reason we imagine thou doth not pillage every Shadow Repository ye come across nor shoot every Peacekeeper thou encounter. We seek understanding, mayhap congress with thy kindred. Seeketh us peace and not discord with Tau’Ri as we prepare for a great and terrible storm. We shall not tarry long nor disturb the peace thou hath built for thy kin and people here. But we would have thy insights, should Crichton of Tau’Ri wish to perform one last duty for his kind.”
Well, he didn’t expect the brain eating snake mammals to be weirdly friendly. He was still on edge, but that was a step in the right direction. And the absurdity of it all had him laughing. “Gah..Frell..Lady, really?”
“Majestic Eminence” hissed the redhead again.
“Man…Humans are either the luckiest people out there or we’re the most frelled.” Crichton continued.
“Maddest.” Proffered the queen bitch of the universe. It was meant to be humorous, and he appreciated the attempt at humor but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was the correct answer. After a moment, he let out a sigh and shook his head. “Yeah sure, what the hell, I mean it’s not like the survival of my planet or the whole universe is at stake if I give the wrong advice.”
“Tempt not fate, Commander.”
Oh frell.
“..Ooohhkaayy..Well…umm dinner at my place?”
It nodded seemingly catching the sarcasm and taking the initiative to guide the meeting from here for long enough for John to get bearings straight. What the frell was he getting himself into this time.
My name is john Crichton. An astronaut, twenty-one years ago I was shot through a Wormhole, and for years I was pursued by insane military commanders. I got me a wife, a son and two daughters, one who I’ll never know. I thought I had found peace being mayor of jerkwater milkyway but now I’m being drafted by this insanely hot alien Goddess to help her stop a cosmic war…I’m doing everything I can..I’m just looking for a quiet place to retire and be a family man
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