Stargate Through the Looking Glass and into Heaven.

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Alright gents! After waayy too damn many delays, which I profusely, profusely apologize for and hope that interest in my story hasn't died because of it...I present to you, the conclusion to Enigma!

Mysteries are unraveled, more mysteries emerge, Carter comes face to face with her inner demons and more about Constellation is revealed and a horrific prediction is shared....And a lost brother returns to the fold!

All credit to the excellent artists..as usual

Abydos Pyramid complex

What are you doing Sam? A question she’d been asking herself with alarming frequency ever since she helped rescue the Tollan leaders from their doomed home world. Three hundred million survivors of a population of two billion, caused by an industrial accident on the other side of their own solar system. The prospects of just what could be done harnessing zero-point energy as a weapon hadn’t been lost on her, try as she might to banish the thoughts but something else came to her unbidden and that was a profound sense of sorrow at all the lost art, science and potential of two species ground to cosmic dust by the accident. Hammond wanted the technology for energy research, Ellis wanted the technology to fuel project constellation, but part of Sam still salivated at what amounted to the threat of exploding blackholes as a deterrence against the Imperium.

And another part of her, a stupid, silly part desperately wanted Narim to request asylum just so they could stay together. -I’m not a little girl, this is stupid- she repeated the mantra -It’s just leftover trauma from the fight with Horus. You’re just jumping at anything that feels nice.-. There was no way they could be compatible beyond Narim looking ten years older than her and apparently being old enough to be her father. She didn’t even know what he did, only that he came from a society that were willing to let billions of their own people die to protect their secrets. They were ruled by fear, by the past and Carter was always looking ahead, but so was Narim and his ability to ground himself in his heritage while striking ahead captivated her.

Perhaps that’s why she was going to visit him before they left, walking lazily along side her was Hugo who trotted through the Abydonian pyramid as though it was his mountain range sized complex and not the property of the former Empress of the three galaxies or whatever gaudy title the Hathor snake called herself. In her hand was a bag with four noisy bundles, a gift from General Landry to the Tollan team, including the arrogant Omoc. Seeing the Abyodians bow to Hugo always intrigued her. Teal’c and the Kelownan explained that it was because of Anubis who seemed to be a figure beloved by everyone not only the Goa’uld and their subjects but much of the known universe. Evidently his standard was a humanoid dog like creature with black fur that to Sam reminded her of Jacko (Named after O’Neill apparently.), the big goofy high content wolf dog that Grandpa Jacon owned while she was growing up than any Egyptian Jackal. Only the Anubis figure was apparently based off a wolf like creature with three horn like tusks rising from its snout. Seeing the black dog, with its pointed ears and battle scars and his gentle sense of guardianship must have reminded them all of the God who’d been martyred by what Carter suspected was a Goa’uld so evil that they had struck his or her name from the mythos, leaving only a void that referred to a “dark time, wherein a Nameless Horror, a fallen one slew noble Anubis and tried to destroy all the gods, Goa’uld, Asgardian, heretical Ori alike.” She wanted to know more about that period, for some reason her gut instinct told her the enigma of the Tollan was partially entangled in that ancient chapter

But even Teal’c and the Kelownan who were both fairly secular about their worship of the System Lords refused to talk about it and the look of abject horror on Skara’s face when she brought it up told her of the futility of it.

-One day, I’ll ask Narim assuming I ever see him again.- Hugo led her fairly quickly to the room the Tollan were using to prepare for their departure, Omoc, Daniel, the impossibly tall Morrigan (Who gave her the creeps in an almost fun way.) and General Landry were off to the side of a column discussing something that must have been important since despite the fact that the General looked like he wanted to jump out of his own skin he was doing his best impression of a stoic.

Narim was sitting on a bench near the entrance discussing something with another Tollan when he saw her, the smile on his face was all too boyish. He waved off the other Tollan and rose to greet her something that made her want to match his smile with one of her own -Stupid, stupid. – Hugo loped into the room and ran straight for Narim jumping on his new friend in greeting before he made his way towards the Morrigan with no fear.

For her part the Nox leader seemed amused by his defiance and knelt down to pet the Dog. “Well, if it isn’t an old warrior come to make sure I’m treating his charges well.” Something danced in those starlike eyes and Sam’s skin crawled. She’d done something to Hugo in that moment and instinctively she knew it wasn’t bad but gifts from the Nox seemed to carry with them a charge and she didn’t want to think about what that duty would be for such a friendly animal.

“He minds us, Queen of the dead, he minds us sometimes too much for his own good.” Landry answered. “As all good soldiers do, you know something of this yourself Henry Landry.” She stood; the dog seated dutifully by her calf (though with her height it seemed like he barely made it above her ankle when she finally stood.) as she turned to Omoc. “That technologist there bares gifts for you all.”

“I do actually.” Carter handed the satchel she’d been carrying to Narim who opened it and laughed. “Are those.”

“Puppies, specifically from one of the retired service dogs here on Abydos. I’ve also included genetic material from four different species of buffalo as well. Though, Stargate Command says any cloning you do, would have to be limited only to Tollan ownership, you can’t sell them to anyone not of your kind.”

“None of us would dream of it Samantha.” Narim breathed, as he held one of the fat pups in his hands, it licked him and the other Tollan came to collect theirs, each one seemed both baffled by the SGC’s gesture of good will and surprised at such a precious gift. Omoc raised an eyebrow at carter Carte, what might have passed as surprise appearing on his features. “You are still determined to establish some sort of relationship with worlds not on our trade colonies it appears.”

“The SGC accepts you likely won’t ever share technology; Travell made what she wanted from us clear..Secrecy.” Carter answered coolly, causing Omoc’s eyes to narrow at the mention of their leader. “She threatened your world did she not?”

“She did.” Carter answered. “But she also offered us favored amongst nations trade deals, almost as if she was trying to buy our silence and make sure can keep us where she can see us.” She waved a hand cutting Omoc off. “Governor, we’re used to her brand of nonsense, don’t get me wrong, the SGC just chooses to retain good relations with Rax-Tollana. Your new world needs to rebuild heal and grow and we would prefer to do business with you. Consider these..gifts which came about because a few of our civilians didn’t control their own pets..a gift in that spirit.”

That Admiral Hammond and General Landry chose the most ruthless member of Stargate Reconnaissance team One to deliver this, offer which Omoc knew he would have to accept in good will couched with a subtle condemnation was not lost on either man. Omoc chose the runt of the litter for his own lifting the female up. “Well, it seems I shall name you Samantha. May you be worthy of the name.”

When he stormed off back to the crowd around the Morrigan Narim and Carter shared a laugh. “He cares, callous as he may appear. I believe he feels he owes a debt of honor to Doctor Jackson..”

“The way Daniel tells it, this Nox Queen put your entire species under some sort of hidden test that he passed. I’d say the whole of the Tollan race owes him.” Sam muttered feeling Narim take her by the wrist. A sense of relief filling her when he opted to make the first move. “May we take alone outside for a moment Samantha?”

She grinned. “I’ve got a few.” Again, like a school girl -what the hell is wrong with you Sam!- outside, with only the puppy as a chaperone Narim chuckled softly, the annoying fact that the two of them could often guess each other’s moods once again rubbing itself in her face. -This isn’t just unprofessional, it’s seditious, for both of us- She had to remind herself, though she was reasonably certain she was exaggerating that.

“You have chosen to obey Travell by spiting her, I assume your commerce with Rax-Narya and the other commerce colonies will continue, but you wish to do business with us as well?” Narim seemed amused by that, it must have been given that they had energy to matter conversion, but she also had a feeling that Rax-Tollana would need certain amenities such as Naquadah that they would not be able to obtain on their own. Kasuf, for his part had spoken with the other city masters and would likely broker a deal with Omoc as soon as the Stargate on Rax-Tollana was set up and they could establish a closed Gate Network with Abydos. Assuming they could, it seemed like the City Masters believed they could manage the extra demand so long as their people were paid well.

Which was likely not going to be a concern.

-We’re building a neat little web of soft power allies out here, on someone else’s turf..And its all nice until this Hathor person decides to show up and kill us all- she thought dejectedly, it was why they really wanted some Tollan expertise, help reverse engineering some of the weapons tech they managed to take from the various fights with the Imperium. She shook herself from those thoughts when she felt a reassuring grip on her wrist. “Hathor is no tyrant, unlike Ra. From all accounts she’s a far more just ruler, albeit distant.”

Carter laughed. “Really, because Teal’c says the same thing, yet also said she committed genocide against an entire species because Ra stepped out on her with their queen.”

Narim nodded, his eyes shifting in that odd way that made her think he was trying to access a memory file, another reminder that the Tollan might have looked human, some might even have had a human ancestor, but they were absolutely not human. “I’ve always been..shall we say..skeptical of that story. Do not misunderstand me Samantha, it is possible for someone to change, guilt is a powerful motivator, and I will admit from first hand experience attempting to assess and predict the mind of a creature over a hundred thousand years old is what you would call a nightmare. But it seemed so, irregular. I’ve always fancied there was more to it, though that hardly makes her any less dangerous I suppose”

He was speaking like a spy, she realized, or someone involved in intelligence and it suddenly hit her that in all their interactions she’d never bothered to ask him what he did for a living before his world blew up and there was a momentary sense of panic until Narim shook his head. “Yes, I was involved in security, specifically I was the commander of planetary defenses…I suppose I still am, but I was not intelligence. I did study what you would probably call “xeno-psychology” and foreign relations, but you may relax.”

So, I’m smitten with their equivalent of a three-star general, lovely.

“I..Thought I was more of an idiot than I am for a second there.” Carter muttered, running a hand through her straw-colored hair. Tracing her fingers along the braid Kadra had done up for her while the two women waited for Doctor Lahm to come back and clear her for duty this morning. (Carter ended up having a pretty spectacular allergic reaction to plant matter in the Tollan atmosphere that must have carried on their clothes, then her gear.). Narim let out a laugh “I think we are attracted to each other because it is safe. We have both lost, grievously, we have both suffered wounds of the mind and we both love our respective nations far too much for our own good.”

“We’re all wrong for each other baby.” Carter answered with a manic grin. The pup scurrying about ahead of them.

“We are.” He conceded then shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been enjoyable.”

She nodded in agreement, damn him, it had been. “It also doesn’t mean it couldn’t work if our situations were less insane.”

Narim nodded enthusiastically before he gently guided her to a corner, which she was glad for because if she had stopped to think on stupidly cliché what she’d just said was, she’d want to rip her own eyeballs out. Wait, why did he? “Sam, would you think less of me if I decided to share some intel with you?”

“You know the answer to that Narim, you wouldn’t sell out the Tollan for a stupid primitive its why I like you.”

He paused, assessing before nodded in relief. “Though, I would not call you a primitive, not entirely at least…” After a moment of seemingly trying to collect himself, the Tollan continued. “The other War Master of the Imperium, Bra’tac has invested a rather large number of spies in his former Lord’s activities. Some time ago he noticed that Apophis has begun shifting funds to pay for the construction of ships, transport vehicles and weaponry. As of now, it’s estimated this auxiliary fleet numbers nearly sixteen hundred vessels.”

This was shocking, not the intel given even though that was a heavy gift all its own, but that Narim was willing to hint to the sheer extent of the Tollan spy network to her was on a whole other level. Carter’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran over the possible reasons a ranking member of the paranoid Tollan’s military would provide her with such intel, if like Shaun’ac Narim intended to use her species to settle internal matters or if he had another reason in mind or if this was a further attempt to spite Travell or if this was something else entirely. The Tollan were a whole mess of inconsistencies, lies, feints, maneuvers and cover stories within cover stories and even now she couldn’t be sure why Narim was divulging any of this except that they both shared a love for their people, a sense of ruthlessness and a mutual attraction born out of grief.

The perfect combination for a healthy relationship, Sam Carter, P.H.D, J.D, D.O etcetera, you truly are a genius. Only the smartest person on earth could be this stupid. “Maybe he’s just preparing for a civil war like the House of Ra is doing?” She paused, frowning. “Well, if that’s the case why would he outsource the construction when presumably his own industry would produce better ships?”

Narim nodded, that nod the Tollan did when they thought you were unusually clever for a lower lifeform. “Yes, that is eventually the conclusion Bra’tac reached. In either case, unless we were to construct a fleet that size every month in your twelve-month year, he would not be able to replace even one of the proper fleets under his command. The military might of the Imperium is staggering Samantha, and Apophis represents a sizable portion thereof.”

So then why? Why was he outsourcing the construction of ships and to such a number? Unless he was planning something covert? “Y..You think he’s trying to stage a false flag to lure Horus into making the first move?” If this was true, it was an intelligence gold mine. Something they could trade with the House of Ra if they ever came knocking on Abydos’s door, intel that could buy them a lot of good will and hopefully diplomatic leverage. Something dawned on her, a memory of the lore master, Shaun’ac and the things she implied, of Shepherd’s conversation with the Jaffa girl and Herakles in his report.

No, they seem to think that’s happening already.

So, then what?

Her heart sunk.

“You understand Samantha.” Narim said, his tone as grave as the ash saturated skies of his former home world. His cheeks a similar shade of that ash color, a look of empathy that was striking to Sam Carter in his features.

Apophis was building up a force to make a play for earth. She swallowed, then allowed the emotion to wash over her, the panic to bleed away until all that was left was her reason. She brushed hair from her eyes, hoping that hand wasn’t shaking. “From what Teal’c told us it would take weeks to months to navigate outside of the Hyperspace relays, then they’d have to invest in and secure planets to use as staging points and hubs along the way and that’s while navigating around the protected planets zone and neutral space full of minor civilizations that.”

“Most of which are only slightly more advanced than your kind.”

“But sixteen hundred ships would that even be enough to take earth?”

Narim smiled sadly. “A single Tollan vessel could destroy most of your defenses and military bases inside of a day, and our ships are not dedicated warships like those of the System Lords. Apophis would only need to remove your ability to mobilize an army, perhaps wipe out a major city or two. Tell me, would the nations of Tau’Ri not surrender then?”

He was right, damn him. He was right. Her mind wandered back to Project Constellation and O’Neill’s effort to talk Horus down. Of all the effort to befriend advanced cultures and to convince the leaders of the Imperium, these System Lords that they only wanted to explore and do business. It was all an attempt to build a bulwark, a deterrence and was it for nothing now?

“We estimate of that sixteen hundred, however he likely would only be able to bring a hundred of those against your world, with the rest being used to occupy the worlds he would need to use as a beachhead and the bulk of that would be to act as a deterrence against Asgardian intervention. Or, intervention by his fellow System Lords.”

Something else dawned on her and it was like a slap in the face.

Constellation, he knew. She didn’t know how, but he knew, he must have had far greater access to their systems than anyone could have guessed and worse! Whatever he did likely affected earth as well. I’m being paranoid Sam thought, Landry had plenty of information on Constellation since the 302 prototypes were to be built and tested here. She was being paranoid, it had to be and yet, with how dismissive he’d been of their technology…He knows.

Narim set a hand on her shoulder. “I assure you, only Omoc knows, and he didn’t seem to care, only remarking that no one else could succeed where Thoth failed save his son or you.” Before she could pull back, he squeezed her shoulder. “I swear to you, no one else knows and no one ever will. It isn’t our in our nature to traffic the secrets of less sophisticated races and I would destroy the evidence even if it were.”

“Why?” she asked, hating herself for how breathless she sounded in her own ears.

Narim shrugged. “Because I..You and I are alike, Samantha. Because my wife is dead and buried, because I lost most of my sons in the tragedy. The ones who survived, may never wish to speak to me again for remaining behind. Because you needed a friend.”

“We both did..” she muttered. “We’re dumber than we thought.” She let out a sigh and cursed herself because before she knew it the two were embracing. “There’s been an attraction there between us from the start Narim, but it comes from a bad place.”

He nodded in agreement, there wasn’t much else to say, and she understood there was no point in conveying her gratitude so the two kissed and parted ways.

Lahm had advised her to seek counseling for what the fight with Horus did to her, Jack and Teal’c and Daniel had all been friendly ears, but the damage wasn’t anywhere near repaired.

Except perhaps now.

Carter laughed bitterly; she would cherish Narim for as long as she lived if for no other reason than because realizing there was someone out there just as wrecked as you are was; an oddly stabilizing thing.

She wouldn’t be there when they departed, she didn’t want to be anywhere near the Morrigan, and she had what she needed from the Tollan.

God, family, country. That’s how Grandpa Jacob lived, her parents had put country above family and God and as a result her mother had been aboard flight 77 when it slammed into the Pentagon, where her father had worked. The Tollan seemed to place their species and its safety above all other considerations even family for the mother of all paradoxes in her mind. Narim, had spent his entire life in the service of that extreme creed just as her parents had, just as she had.

Yet he broke it for her.

She’d never forget that and never understand it. She wasn’t even sure if it made him seem less in her eyes for violating values, they both held sacred, or if it was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for her.

And she wasn’t sure she’d ever be brave or weak enough to make that mistake.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

@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

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

For those who think Apophis has forgotten about his excuse to false flag Horus!

Chulak-

They were thirty in all, only ten of which were Jaffa trained purely in soldiery. Guards, for a mission Moa’tak did not believe guards would be needed for. The rest, he observed entering their stasis chambers, each one would enter a state of Kelno’Reem so deep that both Prim’tah and Jaffa would average a single heart beat every eighty seconds. Though, the stasis chambers themselves would place them in suspended animation. An artefact, perhaps a redundancy from a bygone era but the elderly Jaffa had insisted they enter their hibernation states before the stasis field took effect. After all, was not discipline the key to honoring the Sodan? To serving Lord Apophis and avenging the insult that had been perpetrated against their entire military order earlier in the year?

Moa’tak was a former prime, he’d served Apophis with distinction in the skirmisher corps, a division of Jaffa who frequently collaborated with the Ashraks of the Imperium. Special forces was the Tau’Ri analog, at least according to the knowledge ripped from the mind of that prisoner before Klorel (He would not call the boy Lord, for as a half breed an invalid he had no true status.) destroyed what was left of her mind. Moa’Tak was three hundred and sixty years old. He'd retired forty standard years ago to farms on a planet some six hundred lightyears from Chulak to live with his many grandchildren in dignity and grace for his final century of life.

Then his mighty Lord was nearly assassinated by a scribe, whose terrorist friends tore through the heart of the Imperial military, the core of Jaffa culture and power humiliating his entire species and disgracing Lord Apophis. His youngest great grandson had been killed in the chaos, when the trainees rallied to defend their home, he’d been blown to pieces by that demonic creature of the nameless one, the spawn of a million Tau’Ri arsonists, the mad technologists Car’tur and though he died well Moa’tak made a promise that he would attain some manner of blood for blood for him and for the whole of the Jaffa race.

Even though this assignment was perhaps beneath his station, it had been a type of mission he’d pioneered in his youth. And he wanted to visit restitution and pain on the planet that had spawned those depraved barbarians who claimed his great grandchild and who had also somehow managed to seduce Teal’c.

Thirty souls, one construction vessel, one transport shuttle.

Three months once outside the relay network.

They would use the planetary rings of one the Tau’Ri systems gas giants to establish the main base, they would never know what hit them.

Perhaps it wasn’t honorable.

But Moa’tak was ordered to obtain revenge not satisfy honor.

No, honor would be satisfied when Apophis sat upon the Throne of the Imperium and humbled the arrogant House of Ra and brought the light of civilization to the entire Galactic cluster.

Vengeance would be enough for this old man.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Annnndd the conclusion!

Abydos

It was odd, Daniel Jackson thought; to be both relieved that someone was departing and to also realize you were going to miss them. The Tollan were an enigma, a riddle that only grew more complex and dangerous as you unraveled it. Their language, so alien even among the alien languages he was learning from Teal’c and yet so clearly influenced by them but in a way that suggested they managed to pull off some kind of coordinated and managed cross-cultural “contamination” to aid in their infiltrations. They lied to each other as readily as they lied to other species, withheld technology from their own colony worlds and called it national security while engaging in open displays of power to less advanced races. They mocked the Imperial religion while clearly maintaining primitive superstitions of their own if Omoc’s reaction to The Morrigan was any indication. They were curious and for an archeologist who was weaned off tales of his grandfather’s exploits and hurled himself into a Wormhole chasing after mysteries that caused his death more than once…Well, curiosities were an almost irresistible temptation.

And they had suffered horribly for their arrogance and their fear, were humbled before their ancient Gods that he wondered if these Tollan would ever be whole again, and he worried for them. That was ridiculous, especially given how unpredictable they were but he couldn’t help himself.

Narim stood quiet and contemplative before the Gate, two other Tollan were thanking General Landry and Jack who seemed elated to see them go, his patience for their nature completely evaporating, hours ago. The Morrigan stood tall, proud and utterly menacing in her own way before the Gate, her “eyes” focused on symbols as if recalling events from long ago. What part she played in the riddle of the Tollan was anyone’s guess but whatever it was, it left an indelible mark on their culture, because Omoc regarded her in absolute terror.

“You have a consternated look on your face Doctor Jackson. I trust that isn’t for my people.” Omoc’s dry, cold voice cut into his thoughts, and he noted it lightened somewhat. He had an almost, amused look on his aged, grim face.

“I guess I am, you’re wandering into an unknown in the hope that you can make it home. And what then?”

Omoc nodded a smile not quite reaching his eyes followed. “It’s no less than you’ve done I’d guess.”

Daniel laughed. “Yeah, maybe that’s why I worry. Both of our species need to do a lot to navigate this hostile universe, not all of it is going to be things we’ll enjoy.” He paused there and turned to Omoc, deciding to take a slight risk. “But I take it the Tollan people have done that before?”

Omoc’s eyes flickered, it was subtle, but it may as well have been them bulging out of their sockets. “You’re astute Doctor Jackson…That isn’t healthy.”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” Jackson admitted ruffling his golden hair lightly, somewhat embarrassed. “You’ve come along way.”

“I have decided, we will make our departure.” The Morrigan announced, her tone completely flippant and devoid of any of the grimness one would assume the personification of chaos, war and death would hold (which only made her creepier in Daniel’s estimation), raising a hand towards the gate she flicked her fingers in an overly, theatrical manner.

The Gate simply, opened. No woosh, no backwash, no sign of dialing it merely activated and Daniel grumbled about how he was thrown through space but the Tollan got to go it the safer way. The Tollan, began their departure, with only Omoc lingering to nod his severe head at Jackson. “I think we’ll see each other again boy, should you survive long enough.” He departed, with the Morrigan turning into a murder of crows which swarmed Jackson for a second a soft whisper of a promise he couldn’t allow himself to believe before they departed through the Stargate and as it closed.

A sense of relief fell over the Pyramid complex, relief, followed by confusion, concern and a healthy sense of just how large the Galaxy truly was and how careful the SGC needed to be going forward.

Less they stumble into a Bear's cave as they try to outrun the Dragon.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

This part is for @Spartan303 and @Harlock and anyone else who enjoys Hathor's character and the antics of the Moya crew. You're also going to get a little more of Goa'uld History and for those who like carnage...well..This is a damn heroes quest and SG1 is gonna shiinneee.

Alrighty then..it begins

Stargate: SG-1

Episode 5: Thor's Hammer
One hundred lightyears from the edge of the imperial space, Apophis Domain: Kre’lyn

It had been a long time since John Crichton had attended a state dinner, it must have been during the last years of the Clinton Administration when he was selected head the Farscape project. IASA was seen as about as much of a joke as the Space Force had been, only Taiwan, Japan, India and Canada decided to become founding members and all of those countries had kept their own space programs going any way. Farscape 1 was supposed to be the lynchpin around which the entire agency’s future would be decided and he blew it by getting sucked down a wormhole. Wormholes, the quest to weaponize them for logistical purposes had been the bane of his existence since only he held the knowledge within his head to build working Stargates, or to create stable wormholes without them or so he had believed until they encountered a Stargate a few years after his arrival in this corner of the cosmos and then he realized just how insignificant he really was.

The snakes could have smashed them all like bugs at any time, possessing the casual use of technology that caused all his misery, and he learned that their refusal to share that technology with species who couldn’t reverse engineer a gate or crack its mysteries had been why he was so ruthlessly hunted. Except that they didn’t, opting instead to do business with the minor powers of the Galaxies or ignore them entirely. Crichton had been through hell and back, all because tyranny existed outside their borders brought about by their own lab freaks and they just couldn’t be bothered.

He tried to keep this in the forefront of his mind because Hathor was damn charming, refined, cultured and wise. She’d retracted that armor of hers into her own skin (That had been weird.) revealing the form of a young woman who reminded John of those Brazilian models who were all the rage back in the 90’s. Except that she had silver streaks in her dark hair, and he couldn’t quite tell the color of her eyes because they glowed pink and never stopped glowing. She was powerful too, Deke describing her psychic energies like seeing the Galaxy from outside for the first time grasping just how big the damn thing was. She also disarmed Aeryn’s rage at her race being discarded by the System Lords with something that wasn’t quite an apology but came close enough that she had nearly wept.

Aeryn Sun never humbled herself before anyone, hell no Sebacean he knew did; not even in the face of energy beings, but she did before Hathor, and it was disconcerting. He liked the creature wearing the woman suit, despite everything he liked her and was starting to enjoy her company and that’s why he wanted this wrapped up as soon as possible and her out of here as soon as he could do so without causing an incident. They were too, this wasn’t his problem, earth wasn’t even really his home anymore. He shouldn’t be doing any of this and yet he was and it made him mad.

When he walked in, the queen bitch of the universe was seated in what passed for a lounge in the private annex of “City Hall.” She was relating a story about a battle from the early days of the rebellion against the Ori, the ancient juggernauts who once ruled the known universe whom the Goa’uld overthrew to “earn their Godhood.” As Aeryn had explained it. To the ancient roach man impersonating his dad it was less a rebellion and more a slave revolt that turned into a bitter blood feud that caused the extinction of the race that gave his sentience and nearly eradicated his in the process..Maldis called it a war in heaven, Zaan and Pilot had a position that was more in the middle with the “Living Gods” defending themselves from exploitation and deciding to simply unite as much of a broken universe as possible to prevent what happened to them from ever happening to anyone else.

Whatever that was.

Everyone seemed attentive, even her Jaffa which led him to conclude she rarely talked about that era. This was special, he supposed, and he wondered if that was the name of the game. To make them feel special, to make them trust her more and divulge more information on Earth than he intended to give out or maybe he was just being paranoid, and she was merely sharing these details because they were outsiders, and she could talk freely because there was no cultural red tape. He’d heard her sigh, her voice was odd, there wasn’t one voice, but hundreds, some old, some young, some childlike, some haggish. They sounded mostly human, but there was definitely something inhuman there as well, utterly alien and sounding like something trying to emulate humanoid speech even though it wasn’t how its kind ordinarily spoke. He heard the words “Eighty thousand years..Cycles ago.” Remembering how ancient she was and focusing on that inhuman aspect to her chorus like voice reminding himself that while she might have been female, she wasn’t the young woman he was looking at.

“How many hosts ago was that?” Crichton asked, breaking the warmth in the room, wanting to remind everyone that what he was staring at wasn’t like that, it was a creature pretending to be like them that could easily kill them all if it so chose. And he felt oddly bigoted and ashamed after he closed his mouth and he wasn’t sure why, except that she wasn’t what he expected at all and despite how dangerous she was, he felt nothing close to threatened.

Which he suspected was her doing.

“Only the one, no, the one I am in now has been the one I’ve always adorned. She was my first, I intend for her to be my only one.” Her English was getting better, way better, they learned languages so damn fast it reminded him of Sikozu. Her tone wasn’t filled with annoyance or even a hint of shame which pissed John off, he’d wanted to get under her skin, but she played him off and her ambivalence over the fact that she was wearing some poor young woman bothered the hell out of him or would have but for that “and I intend her to be the only one.” That bit actually piqued his interest. “Really, I kinda figured you swapped us out like like clothing.”

The woman, or snake wearing the woman made a face that implied she shared his disgust. “It isn’t easy doing what we do, for the less evolved subspecies it usually results in the personality death of both and the creation of a new being. Having another personality in your head is no simple thing, Commander. None of us take hosts casually nor take the business of possession lightly.”

He shuddered at the memory of Harvey, the look in her eyes suggested she saw it for she inclined her head enough to count as a sympathetic nod and damn her, he wanted to continue to be angry at her not, mortified. Something else cliqued in his head and he laughed “Mannn, you’re telling me that’s an Ori then?”

“She was, before I destroyed her mind and took her body.” There was a hint of that ruthlessness that spoke to the stories he heard about her blowing up a race of talking cats once upon a time. It was cold, but measured, there was nothing of the cavalier ability to slaughter of Scorpius or even Crais, this was a being who could commit atrocities on a scale he couldn’t guess at, but not easily. Which made her more dangerous, having a moral compass and still making that decision was far too human for his liking. “You wouldn’t have liked her very much John Crichton, she conducted a good deal of horrific experiments on innocent animals and sentients with a single mindedness that caused her to kill billions. Her kind may have mourned her passing but I certainly didn’t...”

Okay, then…Wait slave revolt? Experimentation? -You’re kidding me…- he thought. He wanted to ask more but the woman affixed him with a look that suggested he had no right to ask and despite himself Crichton changed the subject. “Sorry, it’s just all the movies, the stories on my world paint brain eating slugs as bad guys.”

That caused a cascade of laughter. “I wonder if that is some sort of subconscious racial memory of our days on Tau’Ri. We were not, the best of overlords to your kind.”

Now that surprised John who raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying my ancestors were justified giving you the boot?”

“We did worse for similar reasons.” She conceded, though she wouldn’t expound on that, but the revelation was enough to leave Aeryn. D’argo, his son and her Jaffa with their jaws on the metaphorical floor for how honest she had been about their early past. A past, that was always deliberately left vague in so much of the holy scripture Hathor had spent her long life editing and revising and publishing. “Amun-Ra and I, we believed that laws bound those who ruled to the ones who are ruled, it was the one unifying truth of our civilization, the Imperial religion being more of an anchor, a sense of a shared, rooted past. We failed in our duty as rulers on Tau’Ri. Your people exercised their right to void the terms of bondage between us. My former husband grew embittered, obsessed and angry over it, but I never saw the point. We were to do better elsewhere with your kind, as we did with others before you. That was how I focused my energies.”

The Jaffa and Aeryn seemed to be in an almost, stupor at what she had just admitted, the magnitude of the gesture wasn’t lost on Crichton even if he didn’t have any of the cultural or religious baggage that they did, he didn’t understand the gesture from her was a rarity and it was an invitation to his species to be something more than what they were. “Why are you telling me this?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

She rose, she was tall, almost six feet and she was elegant, others rose around her, something she was entirely accustomed to and something that should have bothered John because his family, his people were behaving weirdly. “The universe belongs to my children John Crichton, but the future belongs to both of our species, I believe, I have always believed that neither can truly grow beyond a certain point without the other. But by the smell of it your staff is finished with making us dinner and I have questions about your world.”

“R..right.”

Oh, sure John, talk to the hot alien Goddess, what’s the worst that could happen? Good frelling job…

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

And here's getting a glimpse of Asgardian space, what their mercantile kingdoms look like and shit fixing to hit the fan.

Also, background on the snakes and Hathor's view of the Tau'Ri rebellion.

………

Hurot- Planet within the Asgardian Protected Planets Zone.

Wyryn Hall rose from the valley and defied the shadows of the wooded mountains behind it to pierce the heavens or come near as close as the architectural capabilities of denizens of Hurot allowed. Granite, marble, red bricks and cemented (created by Ginunian tradesmen hired at great expense.), she was built like the long houses of old, yet she was nine stories tall and was six hundred feet long. Designed to host dignitaries from all over the galaxy, the Stargate and its dialing device stood proudly at the center of a paved road that allowed travelers to gaze upon the Wyryn as they walked or rode towards it for a mile. Two blue stone obelisks each one carved with the glyphs of the imperial language and in Runic Aejir (Called Low Asgardian, the dialect spoken by the peoples of the protected planets zone.), telling newcomers that while they may have hailed from Imperial space, they were entering the domain of Thor and Heimdall and Baldir and Nanna. The hammer of Thor rose above the top of the Obelisks signifying whose power reigned supreme on this world.

And come they did, emissaries from the domains of Ba’al, Set and even Haqet or Heqet as the malevolent crone was so named in their tongue. Of the house of Aether Apollo and Dionysus sent trade envoys. All of the System Lords used Lotar proxies of course, be the Llempiri or Sebacean (Grudgingly.) or Nebari or Kelownan or Lotar of Tau’Ri stock. For none who was bonded by a serpent may safely enter the realm of the Aesir or Vanir (Save for the First Prime of Apophis the mighty War Master Teal’c for his defection was known by now and Thor sent messengers to inform his people that he would be allowed and should be treated with the honor a true disciple of Anubis deserved. For even the Asgard held the martyred God in high regard.) or so the story went. This had been a particular point of pride for King Hethrir, whose forefathers were a mix of Tau’Ri rescued in a storm a thousand years ago and sent here by Thor and of Lotar who rebelled against Amun Ra at Lantesh on Abydos and had survived the slaughter two centuries ago. Now, those who would have ruled over the old man and his children would have to send people in their stead to face him as an equal.

Hethrir was old, ninety years yet he attributed his good health to the few drops of Peacekeeper blood in his veins courtesy of his mother. For though he ached and wasn’t as strong as he used to be, he was as healthy as a man thirty years younger. Technologically, Hurot wasn’t the most advanced world, they only had indoor plumbing courtesy of trade with more advanced worlds in the protected planets Zone and Kelownans had showed them how to use coal and water to create electricity. But they were prosperous, and they were healthy and ever since Trinium mines had begun to bear fruit, they had become wealthy.

Twenty years ago, the Wyryn’s foundations had been laid down, fire danced in the skies that day and many took it as an omen, some that for good, many for ill.

Hethrir ignored them and the planet prospered under his rule, a rule that had come after a century of bloody and constant warfare to unite different tribes, quarreling Yarls and colonies of Lotar that practiced the imperial cult until the warriors of Odin showed them the errors of their ways. That ended around the time the Trinium mines opened, around the time he amassed the wealth needed to build the Wyryn.

How could that be ominous?

That night they celebrated the thirtieth anniversary of the end of the unification wars. “Wars that spanned two continent and twelve kingdoms! Peopled by superstitious snake worshippers and militant traditionalists who went “aviking!” through the gate to try and pillage worlds where men with firearms met them in battle! Who brought calamity and mistrust from neighbors who now embrace us brothers, as equals! We are seen as backward no longer! And the wealth of Hurot flows from the bones of her soil!”

“In our pockets!” Wyglief, his son by a Nebari female who’d come to their world twenty years ago roared to raucous applause. A Serrakin guard was so drunk that he tumbled over and crashed into two serving girls who squealed in amusement and hefted him above their shoulders, bearing him out as another of half Lotar descent took his place.

A Tollan from Rax-Pelora laughed to himself in that insular and somewhat arrogant way Tollan’s always laughed as though they were privy to a riddle only their kind knew the answer to. Smoke wafted through the levels of the banquet room hundreds of people were smoking and drinking, a feast that would have been impossible to host when he was a child, life was good. As the suns sank below the horizon the planet’s triple moons rose into the heavens King Hethrir was content knowing that even if he died today, his realm would be intact, and his dream would rest in the two-dozen ground-children and dozen sons and daughters he left behind.

That night he went to sleep, so intoxicated he could barely move.

Men slept in banquet hall, men slept outside on the benches, in the gardens. Up above, in the rafters between levels, men dozed and Hethrir and his family dozed in the royal wing of the house and slept the sleep of hedonists.

But envious eyes, who came by Gate or by fire, a band of marauders, furious exiles from a fallen empire of demons began to assemble in the dark, eyes glowing malevolently their immense body heat causing the light evening snow to melt away made their move.

And they moved like shadows, passing over the walls that guarded the town that had sprung up around the Wyryn until they were at last within.

And the screams started.
................

One hundred lightyears from the edge of the imperial space, Apophis Domain: Kre’lyn

He had to be embellishing! Tau’Ri known as Crichton, had spent the majority of dinner answering almost every question her mistress, the Chamberlain had asked though he had started the discourse warning her that he was that she called a Technologist first and an explorer second and that his knowledge of military matters would be amateurish at best and that his knowledge of the intricacies of “American intelligence and infrastructure” would be by this point nigh a quarter of a century out of date if he knew anything at all. She had accepted this, stating that she wished to know more about the history of his world, its peoples and its stories and the story of his nation.

And he wove them, as best he could, telling her about what he was taught as a child. That humans as he called his species (Lotar were all the same to her, and most had some form of Tau’Ri ancestry given how vigorous their sexual appetites seemed to be.), evolved from small ape like creatures and that the first civilizations his people knew of were formed in the valley of a river called the Nile, another called the Yangtze, one called the Congo and somewhere called “The fertile crescent”. Hathor inquired as to where these places where geographically upon which land masses and smiled slightly almost nostalgically.

Were those places where the System Lords had rather extensive outposts? She knew Tau’Ri was less a planet they dwelled upon and ruled and more a world they used as a nature preserve and a place to harvest “crops of biomatter” as Lord Thoth once put it to Ishta with all the subtlety a Goa’uld who preferred machines to men was capable of. Was it possible their civilizations emerged in the ruins of those ancient outposts? What struck her was that very rarely did an empire or dominant civilization on her ancestral home world last more than five centuries. This Rome sounded interesting, their method of Government not at all dissimilar from the governments of Kelowna and Vorash. A collection of special interest groups, with managerial authority in the form of a representative government with a sovereign at the top (she refused to call these Caesars Emperors, she had known Ra, there would be no other Emperor in her mind save Prince Horus.), this ancient China reminded her of the Peacekeepers, a bureaucracy of scholars and logistics officers who ruled in the name of a petty king who fancied himself a God and it didn’t surprise her when Crichton explained they were repeatedly conquered by more dynamic and aggressive tribes of Tau’Ri. Apparently the Tau’Ri called their world Earth which was the most unimaginative name she’d ever heard for a planet seeing as they called soil Earth. Hathor seemed to find amusement in it and chided her “After all, Tau’Ri merely means “first world” in ancient Goa’uld.”

True, their respective species did have some similarities. Her Mistress’s Crownworld of Jwnt simply meant “Hathor’s house” in Ori shorthand. Perhaps that would have offended her, on behalf of her liege once but Hathor had been so cavalier of late about the Tau’Ri that she had learned to let go of her indignation over it. But still, some details.

The Imperial Chamberlain, Amun-Ra, Zeus, Izanami and Apophis were all roughly the same age as her ancestral species in its modern form and they only had ten thousand cycles/years of recorded History and nearly all of that was spent in constant war. It was unreal to imagine, the Jaffa had kept the cosmic piece for nearly thrice that long. There hadn’t been a major war since the dawn of her race, they were far too effective as soldiers and the Asgardians too exhausted and the Ori and Fyryns too extinct. The casualties on Chulak and during the raid on Tau’Ri itself suddenly made a lot more sense when one realized that Crichton’s nation (which was only forty years older than her and ten years younger than Mah’ret! The Jaffa warrioress who was stationed at the entrance to the dinning room.) had known perhaps twenty years of peace in one hundred. The Tau’Ri were aggressive, relentless and despite their physical inferiority had more practical experience than most Jaffa who had spent their long lives less as warriors dedicated to the art of soldiery and more sleepy officers of the peace on Lotar populated worlds that were by and large friendly, none of them had faced uphill battles or insurgencies not since Lantesh two centuries ago and the last war was the Titans rebellion which was less a war and more comparable to the actions taken by Lotar auxiliary officers in planetary law enforcement agencies against Roshna dealers across the Imperium.

She had fought in the war, earned her Liege’s respect then.

But it hadn’t felt like what she imagined a war ought to be. When she was a girl War Master Bra’tac had crushed that race of life eaters, but that was less a war and more a genocide of a tribe of bandits..For the Tau’Ri war was a sport. -We would still defeat them, they would have still been killed at Chulak had they lingered, but we could learn much from these beings who are our inferiors in body but not in discipline. –.

“Do you know any of the Tau’Ri commanders of what they call the “Stargate” program?” Hathor asked, her yingrish becoming far more masterful as the conversation war on.

John had explained what IASA was, the poor cousin of NASA a boondoggle much like the Space Force, which he admitted was led by men who were themselves legends and not disgraces. When she mentioned Hammond of Texas, his expression must have given away that he did vaguely recognize it. “Lady.”

“Majestic Eminence.” The Redhead corrected causing Aeryn to gently kick him under the table.

“Right, Your majestic snakeness, I wasn’t exactly a big dog in my nation, my father was more the legend. Astronauts from that era tended to be.”

Ah yes, Az-Tro-Nauds. A Branch of technologists dedicated to exploring space by sitting in crude metal tubes launched into orbit by chemical explosives. Ishta noted Fleet Captain Drey’ac’s eyes flickered in a mix of admiration and awe, especially when this Tau’Ri admitted that he himself was one and that he had designed his module. She kept silent, as her training compelled her too, but she could tell the other female wanted to speak to Aeryn and Crichton both after the fact. “But we did have a lot of crossover with the Space force, there was ahh Major Hank Landry when I left earth who helped me with the Farscape Module and there was a crazy guy, what you call a technologist named Rodney McKay who submitted some fuel calculations for me to review.” He remembered Rodney, mostly because the first time he saw Stark’s crazy ass he reminded him John of that eccentric Canadian. “I imagine Landry is a Colonel or a General by now.”

Hathor reciprocated Crichton’s generosity with a confirmation that he indeed was, as far as their limited intel said.

Crichton nodded. “Good for him! The name Hammond does ring a bell though, my dad knew him and he’s one of the most decorated SEAL officers in US history. Uhh, the SEALs are basically a sort of elite combat unit that specializes in underwater demolition and raids behind enemy lines and amphibious assault. He’s a veritable master of war at least from what Dad told me…There was a General Carter, but he retired and was working with NASA before I left Earth. He had diabetes, a health condition where mammals afflicted struggle to metabolize glucose.”

All the Jaffa nodded extensively, it was a rather pervasive issue amongst Lotars and would be amongst the Jaffa but for the Prim’tah’s making illness a fable for their kind. There were plenty of medicines Lotars used, some worlds even managed to cure it, but it was an annoyance.

“What of a…Elees”

“You mean Ellis?” Crichton asked, it had to be him, no one else would merit a mention by a Goddess and if Hammond and Landry were there, then the old Admiral was too. “Ahh man…” Crichton laughed. “I’m surprised he’s still involved, he’s gotta be very old by my species standards. He’s a legend, both as an Admiral and as a theorist, see he wrote the first papers on space combat published in a while. I showed Crais some of his stuff, or at least something I wrote going off memory.”

“Admiral Crais showed it to me.” Hathor remarked. “That is why I ask, what you put to script showed a remarkable grasp of the basics for such a primitive world. I had wondered if perhaps he came in contact with other races before mine.”

“Well..” Crichton paused, deep in thought, trying to recall rumors and inuendo he’d heard but could never verify. “The first of those papers he wrote as a petty officer, before he’d have had any contact with anything classified..but..” He gave an indifferent shrug, it probably wasn’t leaking state secrets and even if it was, there was nothing he could do anymore to protect Earth. They’d opened the doorway to the cosmos by blowing up the frelling master of the universe. He could protect his former home from Scorpius, but the System Lords? It was plainly evident that Earth’s fate was in its own hands there. “There were always silly conspiracy theories about the US military finding crashed spaceships, they were all nonsense..The funniest one was about a flying donut thing that crashed and was piloted by a manipulative little gray man.”

The Snake men stood erect at that, with Hathor being the only one who didn’t freak out and they were soon followed by Aeryn who muttered something that sounded like “Aesir.” But that couldn’t be? Could it? Then again, the Egyptian Goddess of Motherhood, Joy, Dance, Queenship, sex, conquest and life was sitting across from him looking like a vogue model. Either way she changed the subject with a wave of her hand asking about an O’Neill and Crichton shook his head. “It don’t ring a bell.”

“Do you know if this Jacob Carter is by any chance kin of a Samantha Carter?” Hathor queried. Ishta made a noise of disdain and Crichton sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to conjure up memories of men he’d known twenty to thirty years ago and suddenly felt old. “Hah..y’know I think he had a granddaughter named Sam, but I’m sketchy on that, she must have been two or three when I lifted off. Are these, the leaders?”

She nodded. “It would seem so; my interrogation must have been intrusive.” She stopped short of apologizing, John caught that, but he didn’t mind, he had a feeling she’d given him more courtesy than she’d given entire civilizations and it was a daunting sort of form of respect. When she rose, everyone else did.

Everyone except him.

She smiled slightly at that, as if she missed the defiance of his branch of humanity. “I intend to visit your General Landry since he’s decided to make a planet of mine his testing site for some experimental fighter craft. Oh he thinks he’s well hidden, but I’ve Ashrak on that world amongst his new allies, no harm will come to him at least, I do not intend to initiate hostilities. But I am afraid I’m going to likely evict him.”

Crichton wanted to laugh again. “Man, the guy’s a bird watcher! What is he doing!” then he went silent, realizing how deadly serious this situation was. “Maybe I’m out of place, but please don’t kill him?”

Her glowing eyes seemed to spark slightly “Impudent wretch!” her tone had no menace in it and then she laughed. “Dear Commander, I came to your world and imposed upon you. I would be a poor guest if I did not leave with a parting gift.”

He took a risk at that point, deciding to go for broke. “Well, if that’s the case can you pass a message to Hank for me? I have a bunch of logs and journals, things I want my father and my family back home to.”

She raised a hand silencing him. “I shall do you one better Commander, I have a matter to conclude with a brother-in-law of mine, however I shall pass this way again in one month’s time before I head to the world your friend occupies. If you wish it, you can join me as an interpreter and as an aid.”

He paled, she was serious? She wanted him to come along for the ride? “You want me to see you shoot up my friends?”

“Did her majestic eminence suggest such a thing? Do you think we are the Peacekeepers? The Scarrens? Petty tyrants that need to destroy whole worlds to sate bestial urges? Fool! Speak with more respect.” The Redhead looked ready to rip John’s head off and might have advanced on him when Aeryn and D’argo inched closer to him if not for Hathor’s hand touching her elbow gently. “I am not those Tyrants, Aeryn Sun.”

“But you did destroy the Set’yim.” Aeryn spoke up. “You can see our concern.”

Hathor turned and seemed to fix the woman with a gaze that could have withered starship armor and Aeryn did her best to hold under that ancient, truly alien stare. “Among other species, in a war more terrible than you can grasp, one day maybe I shall explain my actions but it is not this day nor to you Aeryn Sun. But, from one mother to another as someone who once loved another as dearly as you do I would only say that there are some acts of treachery that transcend infidelity and we are forced to..conceal them well. No, I am not asking you to come there to see the destruction of your husband’s people. I am asking him to help me avert a war with them.”

He'd never seen anyone successfully chastise Aeryn Sun, today was a day of firsts it seemed, and John stepped between them, an odd emotion he hadn’t experienced in a while running through his mind, hope? Or something similar, hope in relation to his home. “I’ll tag along, do what I can…Who knows maybe I’ll be of use.”

Hathor inclined her head, perhaps it was a nod before her armor enveloped her again and she barely needed to gesture for her Jaffa to flank her. “Then I will see you, in thirty-two standard days Commander John Crichton.”

They departed and the universe seemed a lot larger, a lot more mysterious than it once did. Harkening back to his first dew days aboard Moya, when everything was hostile and yet new and wondrous.

John Crichton felt young again.

And that was a bad frelling omen.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Credit to this artist because damn...

Alright, the Wyryn is friggen attacked.



Planet Hurot-The Wyryn

“What in the name of Vili’s Ballsack is going on out there!” Prince Wylhuf was one of King Hethrir’s older grandsons, at forty he was a broad-shouldered man of nearly six feet. Barrel chested, with long black hair, a thick beard in which a gold-plated rib bone (Belonging to his dead wife.) dangled clanging on steel armor as he stalked towards the Banquet Hall. A pair of oversized axes in each hand and beside him one of the ambassadors to one of the more advanced worlds that did business with them was readying one of their firearms, his bodyguards already had theirs drawn and the drunkenness was fading from their eyes as adrenaline began to surge.

Good, no one within the hall would die on their knees. “Unknown my lord prince!” The call came from a redskinned giant of a man whose facial features suggested he came from one of the races transported off Tau’Ri and a Kelownan mix. His sloping brows, thick arms and hard features giving him a grim visage in the flickering light. “Prince Wygleif was alerted to a fire in the town and when he went out to supervise its extinguishing his forces were ambushed at the great doors of the Wyryn, they’ve been fighting in retreat ever since.”

“Who attacks us!”

“Deamons!” someone hissed.

“ttsssppt..Say nothing of such nonsense.” The Ambassador hissed aiming his long gun. “I did see them though, they were all..reptilian creatures. Some ran on all fours with long tails and rose to walk on two legs to do battle with our men while others marched as men would. They are strong! They tore one of my men in half and began to feast on him as we withdrew here.”

Wylhuf let out a hiss of disgust. “Savages, most likely from another world, skulking through the gate before we moved it into the valley…I..” Hands tightened on his axes as the lights began to die and a thunderous bang silenced the noise of the assembled men. It was followed by another and another until at last the immense iron gates to the entrance of the banquet hall bent inward and burst open, the left door ripping partially from its hinges and spraying sparks of molten slag forward causing men to run in shock and alarm.

In the darkness all they could see were glowing eyes, malevolent and hungry and a great deal of heat seemed to fill the room and they ran forward. One man hurled a spear with impressive force and it caught in the open mouth of a long snouted tall creature that was naked except for trousers and it gurgled and stumbled back only to wrench the spear from its throat and hurl it forward into the man’s chest. Another grabbed the dying man’s leg and ripped it off spinning and caving in the chest of a guard with the bloody stump.

The Ambassador and his men opened fire, blood spattered but any wounds made were mostly superficial as musket balls failed to penetrate flesh. There was a scream of pain as a creature plunged its fist into the Ambassador’s chest and pulled out a still beating heart.

Wylhuf plunged a battle ax into the right shoulder of the nearest attacker, the trinium alloy of the blade allowing it to cut into the thick flesh. Steam ebbed out and the creature that had a mannish face and the scales of a serpent roared and brought forward a hand. And in an instant a wave of heat careened into his face, causing him to tense and tighten in agony, his muscles paralyzed as his body tried to cope with heat that was starting to reddened his skin. Someone broke a chair over the creature who turned and that relief was enough that Wylhuf plunged his other ax deep into the side of the demon, below the ribs and into organs.

It must have struck true, for the creature roared in agony and stumbled about and a geyser of steaming blood erupted spraying him with greenish red liquid which melted skin where it touched and caused burns so atrocious Wylhuf was certain he would lose a limb. In defiant fury he reached for the ax embedded into the monster’s shoulder, pulling loose, exposing himself to even more of the accursed heat.

In defiant rage buried the ax in the creature’s skull which all but exploded from the force of the blow. It staggered and then fell forward crashing through a table just as another creature rushed him. Wylhuf was sent to Valhalla taking another demon with him, burying his axes in its chest as another came from behind and pulled two of his ribs out through his armor as its teeth sank into his throat from the rear.

Ahead of his dead form Wyglief managed to return through the hall, what was left of his men ambushing the creatures from behind, his sword also of a trinium alloy was red hot at the tip and he plunged it into one of the more primitive creature’s skulls wrenching it down from the table where it had a pregnant woman pinned and was devouring the infant from within, its snout mostly inside her midsection. Another creature ambushed him and he took its head from its body and then screamed in agony as he felt something grab his left arm and snap it like a twig below the elbow.

His bluish red blood spilled all over the floor and he looked up at his attacker.

All around him the lizard men had ceased their attack, they had formed ranks. Bowing in supplication to an immense figure standing near nine feet if he was an inch, hard, scaly skin and long talons on hands that when balled into a fist would scarcely fit inside a cooking pan. He was holding up the hand that had been so casually snapped off the prince’s arm and dangled it over his head, which was turned back, and blood ran down its horned eyebrows and bony, armored nose into a wide human like mouth with rows of fangs.

It was drinking his blood!

The last thing Wyglief saw was green light emitting from its eyes as it swung a hand forward and connected with the prince’s temple.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Alright gents...More chapters out.

Giving you a little more info on what things are like in the protected planet's zone and Hammond decides to lead a band of heroes to fight monsters.

Also as @Spartan303's been asking me for details on project Constellation, he shall get it.

@Harlock You're about to get your "Ye I shall be the first of men!" moment.

………….

Washington D.C

September 8th.

If a gnat farted in the situation room everyone would have been able to hear it in Maybourne’s humble estimation. Everyone, from the President to NID director Robert Statterfield, to his wife the deputy director, to Ellis and Weir all sat in stunned silence as Doctor Samantha Carter calmly explained that the Tollan had not only warned them of an armada of alien vessels being built and manned for the sole purpose of kicking America’s shit in but also that the Tollan would absolutely not provide them with any sort of technological aid. Sixteen hundred to two thousand ships, which Teal’c said would likely be carrying a quarter of a million Jaffa and likely three times that in mercenary troops. even if only a hundred ships arrived Narim was likely only talking about the warships, he estimated twenty to fifty thousand would be in the first wave.

The size of a corps, but Teal’c had explained once that the Jaffa analog to a corps varied from one million to ten million soldiers depending on the System Lord.. So this wasn’t a full force invasion and it was still a million aliens screaming for Earth. It was unreal, Fifteen Jaffa had nearly taken this base, twenty thousand might be enough to break any world military and that was ignoring the fact that they would likely be occupying a world that would be bombarded from orbit to cripple the ability to mobilize anything before the plasma raining down from above blasted gigantic holes in any cities or bases where things might get organized. “Do..Do they plan to conquer the planet?”

“Teal’c says a force the size of the initial invasion wouldn’t really be enough to hold the planet, but he’s occupied planets of eight billion baseline humans with about a hundred thousand Jaffa before. Granted, he said he did it with support of planetary governments who asked him to intervene to deal with something called Roshna” Director Abraham Ellis answered, and everyone shifted uncomfortably because they knew some world governments and some people within their own would happily comply and augment the Jaffa occupation if it came to that.

If, it came to that was a thought none of them wanted to entertain that thought. “Roshna?” The President asked.

“Space crack sir.” Kim Statterfield responded. “Apparently it’s a drug addictive enough that it’s considered a type of chemical weapon.”

“Space Fentanyl then.” The President corrected before turning to Ellis. “What’s the progress on Constellation?”

“Constellation itself has become more, helpful of late. But there have been problems with our battleship class and our carrier analogues. Namely in the field of power generation and the artificial gravity prototypes, sir they’re finicky” Ellis responded back, the weight of his age and the immensity of the situation casting a grim shadow over the old warrior. “With Doctor McKay back in the fold we’ve made lightyears worth of progress.” He shook his head “Between him, Carter and the O’Neill twin, but we need more power.”

“How long do we have?” The President asked, his voice devoid of the usual energy, his language lacking the usual hyperbole, he looked suddenly old, because he was old. Most here were.

“Teal’c believes it likely be a year and a half before the invasion..Though he says he wouldn’t put it past Apophis to authorize a primary strike to weaken us at some point before that.” Statterfield answered, her voice sounding robotic as she rattled off the figures and did her best not to show any panic.

“So that gives us half that time if not less. To build a fucking fleet that’s capable of fighting that off, uuyyyy I should have stayed in business.” The President grumbled rubbing his forehead with his palms. After shaking his head, the man’s eyes bored into the director of Constellation and the man who was likely going to end up leading humanity’s first fleet in battle chain of command or not. “What’s holding up the construction of more vessels?”

“Right now, sir? Alloy and power generation. We’ve been using a fabrication devices onboard constellation, but the ship insists it needs more power and raw materials. Frankly Mister President, the AG systems for the ships themselves are proving to be the biggest problem….”

“Why can’t we just throw zero G ships at ‘em?” The President asked, it was still weird to him that the Constellation wasn’t just a super advanced machine but that it was alive as well. He’d seen it back in 2017, that was the first thing he did after taking office and a few photops. He went down to Groom Lake, met Abe and a twenty-two-year-old lunatic who ended up being one of their foremost experts on weird science and a flagship member of the Stargate Recon teams. Down to area 51 like one of those lame tv shows in the 90’s they always wanted him to cameo on. Down twenty levels, so deep his ears popped to talk to a living spaceship that had a wicked sense of humor.

America’s best kept secret.

And Donald Trump didn’t trust the silver bitch as far as he could throw her. But she’s our only hope right now.

Typical..

“Because to accelerate to the speeds needed to be more than sitting ducks against the Goa’uld it would be suicide without it. Our men would get turned into little more than bloodstains and powdered bone..Mister President.” Ellis responded before adding, shaking the President out of his thoughts. “What we need is something called Trinium, apparently if you mix that with a little platinum and carbon it creates an allow that’s almost as light as a feather but is energy resistant and can take a great deal of abuse.” Ellis looked towards Maybourne and the others before adding. “And if you can create a poor man’s Naquadria by making an alloy out of Trinium and Naquadah. It’s apparently extremely energy productive and efficient, but dangerous.”

That caught the President’s eyes and he nodded. “How dangerous are we talking about Abe?”

“Bblow up a small moon dangerous sir, but we’re working with the Kelownans who defected recently and they’re certain they can make some stable reactors for us so long as we provide decent quality material. I…I talked to the Constellation’s AI and she assures me that she can handle the material safely and use to regenerate her own power systems so we don’t need to be connecting her to generators”

Yeah, no that wasn’t happening. The President shook his head, a lot of what ifs to build a fleet on, a lot of what it on shaky intel and by alien “experts” that he wasn’t sure could be fully trusted. Well except Teal’c Trump trusted him. Mostly because he understood the bastard was always going to be a servant of the Empire but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a loyal ally of the United States and her interests.

Which was why he was only going along with this insane plan because the big man seemed to think it was the least retarded scheme.. “Alright, so this Trinium crap, can we get it, and can we refine it?”

“Yes, to the first no to the second. But the Tollan can.” It was Maybourne’s turn to pipe in, he had a rather amused glint in his eyes as he speculated as to who was going to be using who in that pretty arrangement. “Apparently, they don’t consider doing the refining and forging to be a violation of their technology ban, of course we’d have to kick them back fifteen percent of the Trinium we mine as a fee of course.”

“Of course.” The President said, his features glum. “If you’re gonna do something for the primitives, I guess you better get something out of it huh?” He gave a nod signifying the meeting was about to end for the day. “I want these ships up and running gentlemen it’s a top priority, as of now most of the SG teams need to be dedicated to finding technology that will speed up our shipbuilding capacity..” What he wasn’t going to do, was preside over the annihilation of his species or its conquest, the next year would not be the twilight of planet Earth.

He paused before adding.

“I also, want you to arrange a meeting with Teal’c, I want to see if there are any of these Tok’Ra that we could maybe hire as tech consultants and to help us build up our defenses, maybe explore the possibility of reaching out to this Zeus or Horus character to see if they’d be willing to make some kind of lend lease deal if that angle falls through.”

The room went silent again and he could feel the military men glaring at him. “Mister President, with respect, Teal’c described most of the Tok’Ra as like the IRA or worse, ISIS…and he said the Imperium is pretty strict about tech sharing…I...”

“Look, this Tollan guy said most of that fleet is going to be a mercenary force, right? I’m assuming that means Apophis isn’t giving them his best, else he’d just send one of his own battlegroups to come fight us. He’s the head of their military yet he’s outsourcing this shit? I’m gonna assume that means what he's doing isn't technically legal. Maybe that’s the gray area we operate in…in Exchange for say.”

“Handing his political opponents, the means to undermine him by highlighting the illegality of this invasion?” Kim asked, somewhat amused. Every now and then, the President was damn smart, this wasn’t too bad. Evidently a preemptive strike against a nation that hadn't evinced any hostility towards the Imperium for more than a thousand years was seen as a violation of the cosmic law that the Goa'uld themselves imposed and took great pains to show the universe they weren't themselves above. “Maybe even offer to perform certain actions down the line if their political divisions become hot..Like pass along any intelligence we might have, accept asylum applications from any of their minor nobles who lose their domains in the early stages of the war.”

Maybourne twitched. “Assassinate some of his fleet Captains or Primes?”

“Exactly.” Kim answered brightly.

Damn NID, while he loved the paycheck, they sent him for his side ventures on their behalf he couldn’t stand how easily the Statterfields took to the Roman/Renaissance/Sengoku era style political bullshit of the System Lords. “George Hammond isn’t a Condottiero Madam Director. Nor is the SGC La Banda Nirri or a bunch of Vikings or Puritans willing to take Powhattan fur and venison as payment for a hit against a rival tribe…” He wasn’t even sure he liked the Texan all that much but even he found that idea distasteful.

The President shrugged “Half the world was that for us during the cold war and it paid off pretty well for some of ‘em. I don’t see anything wrong with the US learning from a bigger more successful power if it means our planet isn’t blown up and we actually have a chance at avoiding insterstellar war.”

“A war.” Ellis cut in “that would involve an enemy that rules multiple Galaxies…I don’t like it either. But the President isn’t wrong, we’re going to have swallow a lot of our pride here. Besides, no use in getting angry over nothing, any goodwill we won with Horus at Avalon and any goodwill Shepherd’s been building with Herakles there over the last couple days is still contingent on them deciding that trial they held about us in absentia means we’re worth paying attention to as opposed to just being told to go to hell.”

They had set up mining crews on Avalon over O’Neill’s objection, over the last few days and had found Herakles and one of his half siblings had indeed returned there to hunt and visit with The Morrigan and Leanan when she made her return to Avalon. John Shepherd who had been given command of the garrison on Avalon was surprised to see Herakles greet him less as a potential enemy and more as a friendly rival. Evidently the planet Earth was to be put on Trial for the murder of Amun-Ra Kingsnake of all the cosmos in a year or so but the confrontation with Horus and his glowing endorsement of the conduct of SG-1 had resulted in the trial moving up.

Apophis protested this loudly, accused his nephew of siding with the Tau’Ri and all but implied Horus used O’Neill to eliminate his father for him and that nearly resulted in an honor duel. It was this mega old snake called Garek and Zeus who had calmed the situation down and when Athena another system Lord brought up that her own forensic technologists corroborated the testimony provided by Horus based on their examination of the wreckage of Mandjet that Apophis vowed that his scribes would not attend the tribunal in protest of this grave miscarriage of justice.

…Which prompted the Goa’uld equivalent of a chief justice of the peace to unceremoniously dismiss the charges against the Tau’Ri as a whole.

All of this had been relayed by Herakles through a teenaged interpreter that hated the English language but court transcripts they provided seemed to confirm the story.

It was sure nice to know that the fate of his entire planet hinged on the amateur hour political machinations of a hundred-thousand-year-old reptile that in all those millennia hadn’t bothered to learn how to pull off the showmanship he was clearly gifted at in the theatre of war in the arena of politics.

It had been a strange comfort to know that the Goa’uld legal system was as ridiculous as so many of the ones on earth. Since then, at least the System Lords of the House of Aether seemed oddly willing to reach out to Earth so far it was only to break the news of their “innocence” of the charges of terrorism and regicide (Odd, since Trump couldn’t remember ever swearing an oath of fealty to a snake in the brain of a caveman.) and to imply that there was a chance either Lord Zeus or Athena the third System Lord of the House of Aether might be willing to purchase some goods from Earth. But that was all vapor wear until it was put to paper and so the old Admiral was right.

They could just as easily tell them to go to hell and he liked the idea of renting out the US armed forces like mercenaries even less than his Generals did but the magnitude of the situation. “Look, we can table the renta spec ops team plan for later, as Director Ellis says we’ve no idea how they’re going to react. But for now, we need something more than what we’ve got.”

The meeting cleared out not soon after leaving the leader of the free world to contemplate how in the hell they were going to create a fleet of ships able to fight an alien armada in a year. This was starting to seem like one of those Japanese cartoons Baron watched.

The space snake saga.

Nah

The Crazy God arc or some crap..yeah that sounded like something from those animes.

All that was missing was the freaky haired girls and the pointless screaming and men glowing in the dark.

…….

Cheyenne Mountain

September 10th

“So, what are these guys again?”

“Well Kowalski met envoys of theirs on a mission to Rax-Pellora apparently, the Governor of the Tollan planet told them we might be able to help them with their little problem.” Daniel Jackson panted most of that out, while living on Abydos has toughened him up, jogging with Jack, Admiral Hammond and Teal’c was still something he kicked for himself for doing whenever he agreed to it. He’d been living for half the month on Earth and the other half with his in laws on Abydos, not shirking his duties to their emerging society nor his duties to the SGC. As time wore on, he hoped to make it a half the year here and there type deal. He hoped to, move on from Shau’re’s….

“Of course, they did, it probably made Governor whateverhisnameis chuckle to recommend us like hired guns.” O’Neill groused leaping over a log, ever since Leanan did whatever she did to his body he’d been determined to strengthen himself. To “put all near forty years of his experience in the corps to good use in a thirty something year old body.” He was certainly enjoying himself, though what amazed the archeologist was that the near seventy-year-old Hammond would keep pace with the younger men without ever really showing any signs of fatigue. Teal’c of course never tired and would likely hit the weight room after the morning jog and bench press eight hundred pounds a couple dozen times. Daniel was glad the complaining distracted him from thinking about Shau’re though. “What’s their story anyway?”

“They’re from a planet called Vindilas within the protected planet’s zone. Technologically they’re on par with us circa the mid eighteen hundreds. Population about a billion and a half people, one of their trading partners and allies who rules the two main continents on a planet called Hurot asked for help dealing with some kind of alien bandits that are arriving in the hundreds with advanced tech and rampaging across their cities and towns and farms.”

“Snake?”

“Doubtful, no Jaffa no Goa’uld may enter the Protected planet Zones save by special dispensation to do from Thor, Heimdall or one of other princes of the Aesir or Vanir.” Teal’c explained as they ran. “Their Stargates are very advanced, and they are equipped with technology that will detect a Prim’tah or a fully mature Goa’uld upon which the matter stream will be shut down at both ends and the travelers obliterated.” He shook his head, “I have seen it occur once due to an accident with a closed Gate Network, only the matter stream was reversed..What..came back was a mound of material that mercifully did not long survive after.”

O’Neill made a groaning noise and Hammond brought them back to the topic. “So, I take it Teal’c can’t go on this mission assuming I authorize it.”

“Indeed.”

“Actually.” Daniel interrupted. “From what I understand the Asgardians made an exception and encoded Teal’cs DNA into their Stargate networks as a friend.” Jackson murmured. “Something they’ve only done three times before.”

“For Anubis, Hathor and Amun-Ra.” Teal’c almost half whispered.

“Apparently the endorsements of Leanan and ol’Bird man carry a hell of a lot of weight eh big guy?” O’Neill asked with a laugh. The relationship between the Asgardians and the Snakes didn’t make any sense to O’Neill nor did the emerging relationship the Snakes seemed to be forming with the SGC. It was bizarre to him, how enemies that fought each other so viciously for so damn long could end up building bonds of respect enough that even without a formal peace treaty one of the leaders of the other side calling you up and saying “Hey that dude who technically committed treason against us, he’s okay..let ‘em through.” And it wasn’t immediately laughed off the line.

Or how Horus just seemed to forgive O’Neill because he wasn’t willing to put a desire to avenge his team above his species.

Damn Galactic politics was one part sophisticated as hell and one part as simplistic as medieval politics seemed to be at times. Where Machiavellian schemers and men of honor so unimpeachable even sworn enemies would take what was said at face value, it was an insane society, almost as insane as his own. “Well why can’t these guys help with the bandits? I mean, aren’t they a century and a half behind us? A few hundred dudes with ray guns aren’t going to be a match for five thousand riflemen and a bunch of howitzers.” That had been the one thing he learned about fighting more advanced societies. They tended to take longer to die but that was it.

“Their armies are currently heavily invested in a southern expansion, evidently they’ve got a species in the southern continent their nation is connected to that evolved on their world and is very similar to the Comanche and the Mongols. And they managed to get ahold of the other sides guns.” Daniel said.

Hammond shook his head ruefully. “Every damn time you give repeating rifles to horse nomads it always ends the same way. Their boys in blue equivalent are going to be tied up fighting those guys for the next forty damn years and whoever’s in charge of the SGC at that time might have to be making diplomatic entreaties to them not the Vindlanders.” That settled that, but it didn’t fully explain why he should waste the blood or treasure of the SGC on repelling some brigands. “What do we know about the people in charge of Hurot?”

“Well, its like Kelowna, a planet with a lot of rare minerals and material potential and crops galore. It was also until recently a planet with eighty petty medieval like kingdoms spread across three continents. Some King a century ago started a sort of unification war and his son named Hethrir succeeded him and is in his nineties and ended the wars with control of an empire spanning the coastland of two continents and a few dozen Taiwan sized islands. “It still bothered him just how much the Tollan were able to learn about earth to even make that comparison.

“So that’s why we should intervene then? To protect this Hethrir’s interests?” Hammond asked calmly. “Son, are we really strapped that badly for Naquadah?”

“No, but we are strapped badly for Trinium and Hurot apparently has the largest deposit of Trinium outside of Nineveh, Ba’al’s crownworld. In, well the known universe sir and from what I understand they mean whole mountains made of the stuff.”

“There’s another consideration.” Teal’c added “They are peoples whose cultures are very similar to Viking culture of your dark ages, assisting them in their quest to rid their world of what they would logically see as monsters would go a long way towards earning prestige among the Protected planet’s zone. Prestige in a martial culture means alliances and it is believed by the Ashraks of Apophis that Hurot possessed a munitions depot that survived bombardment in the early days of the war.”

That caught the Admiral’s attention. “Are you sure Teal’c?”

“That the planet in the reports was so named Hurot yes, I remember well because of the risk and cost of managing to get a Llempiri Ashrak onto Hurot I was not in favor of the decision. That the munitions depot would possess anything useful or that could be transported through the gate I cannot be certain. They would be eighty thousand years old by this point, it may not even be intact.” Both the Goa’uld and the Asgard built their things to last, but that didn’t exactly mean a volcano erupting and burying it a million tons of rock or erosion or continental drift couldn’t have its day.

“And did Charlie speak with anyone form Hurot?” Hammond asked.

“No, only that one of the Vindlander Ambassadors would meet one of our teams at Rax-Pellora and from there we would head to Hurot. My understanding is that they’re both very close allies and that Vindilas would consider this a favor to us as much as it would be to Hurot. Admiral, I know this isn’t what the Space Force is about, but two resource rich worlds indebted to us potentially?” Daniel implored, not particularly liking the idea of going on a Viking hero quest himself given how those usually ended in bloodshed and death for everyone involved but hundreds of thousands of some of the finest soldiers in the known universe were on their way and they couldn’t afford to say no.

“Hurot, that’s similar to the name of the hall of King Hrothgar in Beowulf isn’t it?” O’Neill asked out of the blue.

“Indeed, it is O’Neill.” Teal’c answered.

“Cool, so long as I don’t have to fight a fucking Dragon..I’m all for it Admiral, providing you are…err sir.”

Hammond laughed. “Fine but take Carter with you.”

“You sure?” O’Neill asked suddenly. “Tomorrow’s..”

“That’s exactly why I want her out there, I’m also assigning Colonel Makepeace’s team and SG-6.” As they neared the main entrance to the facility Hammond added. “And I’m coming with you, that makes thirteen which from what I recall of my history class was a lucky number in Viking culture, lets hope that holds true for them.” When O’Neill went to object, pointing out that there was no guarantee the Tollan weren’t just going to assassinate them the moment they stepped through the Rax-Pellora Stargate Hammond silenced him with a stern look.

They weren’t going to step through the Stargate to fight someone else’s monsters in order to obtain the means to fight Earth’s own without their XO. The risks were too great and if his men were going to sometimes act as peacekeepers then by Jove, Admiral George Hammond would lead them into it.

Besides, how often could a US armed forces officer say they got to participate in a good ol’fashion hero quest.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Alright gents...the story advances...

Hammond of Texas and mighty O'Neill meet the Space Vikings of Hurot and Teal'c discusses lizards! Oh and a Tollan is along for the ride, so you know there's probably gonna be some BS afoot here!

Hurot-Asgard protect planets zone.

If there was one thing the Admiral was never going to get used to about Gate travel was how you could step through one world, enter another, then immediately step through the Stargate again and be in yet another planet. This one, three hundred lightyears from earth but paradoxically twelve thousand lightyears from Rax-Pellora. The Ambassador to Hurot from Rax-Pellor was an elegant, tall older gentlemen named Xoltec and he was in a jovial mood because apparently their “Grand Regent” Travell was absolutely livid that the US Government chose to do business with Rax-Tollana and that Omoc had not only agreed to it but enthusiastically began making request for various foods from earth that he’d sampled. The commodities needed to make pizza was his chief request. Hammond chuckled to himself at that; all his bigotry and self-superiority but the man was willing to pay licensing fees for the molecular structure of the items by which pizza was made. Food, it really was one of the universal ways in which barriers could be broken, the other being need.

And even with energy to matter conversion tech, building a new colony from scratch after your original was destroyed wasn’t something the Tollan could fully achieve on their own. Hammond guessed Travell wasn’t very well liked by a sizable portion of the Tollan leadership given how free he was with this info until they went through the gate to Hurot in which case state secrets and all.

The Asgardian Stargates were an interesting departure from the Goa’uld’s Stargates who were all like pieces of art. This gate was simple, translucent and made of some sort of crystal Teal’c explained was created by the Asgard and was a Naquadah alloy. The Gate symbols looked more runic than glyphic, and the chevrons were each in a shape similar to the traditional depictions of Thor’s hammer. There was a finely paved road, smooth that wound down from the Stargate that connected with other roads that led into Hurot, tall statues of mighty warriors with horned helms and battle axes or a long sword stood grim faced and their shadows covered the first few dozen feet of road from the Stargate.

“Hethrir’s father Hyjiliac and his grandfather and two eldest sons who died during the war.” The Tollan explained before frowning. “Ecthor was supposed to have met us here…He’s the head warrior of the Wyryn’s guards.” Xoltec explained in a voice that made it seem like expressing sentiments in English offended his sensibilities. “I will speak Aejir and Imperial Standard from here on out.”

Which was fine, Teal’c spoke both languages fluently and Daniel was learning Aejir uncommonly fast as he usually did and what surprised the hell out of the Admiral was that O’Neill of all people seemed to have picked up a fluent grasp of Imperial standard. O’Neill was usual was talking to Teal’c about football while Sam Carter sat on the vehicle, she was driving via remote which was one of several that carried their medical supplies, extra guns, explosives, six aerial drones with cameras and their charging stations, a Naquadah generator and enough ammo to overthrow a small country.

Colonel Makepeace was as silent as a tomb, watching and observing everything. In an hour the clock would strike midnight East Coast time and it would September the eleventh. Both he and Carter had lost that day, Makepeace a brother, Carter her parents. And Lahm had told him not to take both, mercifully she was only the chief medical officer of the Abydos facility, and its chief researcher and Janet Frasier shared his belief that it would do both good to get them out and on active duty with their minds focused on something.

Besides, the one thing he could say for the Tollan was that Narim had left Carter in better spirits than when she helped rescue him. Carter needed to be out here, and she was the only person besides McKay or Sasha O’Neill who understood anything that Constellation imparted to them on the molecular properties of Trinium and she would be the only one who understood anything in the Asgardian weapons depot assuming that wreck was worth trying to investigate or if this Hethrir allowed them to see it any way. And Admiral Hammond couldn’t bring Sasha on this trip, since he had the other twin replace the mousy Doctor Rothman who knew little about Viking culture and less about trinium on this mission. Hammond wanted his right hand for this and besides, she needed to get field experience sometime in her life.

Jack had taken pretty well too, only glaring at him murderously for an hour before relenting and seeing the sense and scuttlebutt was Mitchell owed Kowalski a C note because he bet Colonel O’Neill would mutiny over it. Beside Hammond Doctor Jackson asked Xoltec if they should be concerned about this Ecthor being late. Xoltec waved it off, but Jack and Makepeace and Major Ramirez SG-6’s XO had none the less ordered everyone to keep their eyes peeled..

“Did you know Hyjiliac, the old King?” Daniel asked, prompting the Tollan to laugh. “Boy, you must think we're as long lived as the Jaffa. I was a boy when Hyjiliac began his wars and served as a diplomat to Vindilas for the last fifty years. No, though from what I remember of what I heard he was a brutal man who believed Thor personally charged his bloodline with the unification of this planet.”

Of course, all of this happened in Imperial standard, which the younger of the O’Neill twins translated for Hammond. Who was beginning to learn the language but wasn't entirely confident enough to navigate it alone.

“So, he was crazy then?” Daniel asked eliciting a shrug from Xoltec “Ask Teal’c he’s the only one here who’s met Asgardians.” For his part Teal’c answered that in his experience like the System Lords themselves, the Asgardians seemed to be very aloof and off handed in regard to the worlds they assumed charge over with the exception of the most advanced ones. That he wasn’t sure he could say that it wasn’t in Thor’s character to command some sort of holy crusade against nonbelievers having never personally met him. Only that from his very limited interactions with Heimdall and Hela that he doubted very much Thor would have the time to do something like that.

Jackson pointed that despite how aloof Teal’c thought they were, ancient Germanic and Nordic cultures seemed to have so many elements common to the Asgardian sponsored cultures that it was almost certain they had extensive contact with Earth as recently as a millennium ago.

Hammond wasn’t sure if he liked those answers. O’Neill the elder seemed to laugh it and seemed ready to make a joke only to go silent as he noticed a group of riders up ahead. “Huh would you look at that!” Jack gestured ahead, noting that the men wore plate armor and weren’t dressed in chain or the leather padded armor he expected from a Viking culture. Even their horses wore armor…

Which was something he was surprised to see, the six men were all mounted but the lead two had large black horses that looked almost like Shire horses but with the sleekness of Friesians, the other four weren’t horses at all. Looking more like horse sized, long necked tapirs with their weird trunks and fangs. “Makes sense..” O’Neill thought aloud. “Weren’t horses the size of Dogs back when the snakes got evicted from our planet?”

“Yeah but, those horses look almost modern, as if they’re descended from horses transported off earth in the last few thousand years.” Jackson said somewhat surprised. “These guys appear to be in their equivalent of the Middle Ages Sirs..” It was Major Ramirez coming up. “And yet their visors have friggen sunglasses.” He muttered. “The tech levels out in space always confuse me.” He muttered shaking his head to a sympathetic clasp on the back from O’Neill.

It was Jackson and Sandra O’Neill who announced that they came in peace, from another world to offer aid for their monster troubles. With Xoltec walking out in front laughing as the leader of the group dismounted. He was hominid, at least, mostly neanderthal with a mix of human and some other hominid in him. Barrel chested, broad of shoulder and with thick black hair and slightly accentuated canines. “Yver Ye’rl Ecthor!”

“This is Yarl Ecthor, commander of the Wyryn’s guards.” Xoltec said. Turning he responded in Aejir “This is Hammond of Texas! Famed War Master of the Tau’Ri! And Jack O’Neill the God Slayer! and Teal’c War Master of the Imperium, Colonel Makepeace son of Makepeace, a mighty warrior and Ramirez”

“Jorgeson!” Ramirez answered slapping his chest.

All this was translated, and Hammond glared slightly as Xoltec happily acted as their hype man and he wondered again if the Tollan’s motivations here were as simple as that particular planet’s economy being somewhat dependent on the resale of Trinium and other rare materials bought from Hurot. Or if he was also trying to create as much havoc for the SGC and the Space Force as possible by making sure every unaligned planet in the universe came to seek them out for aid.

For his part Ecthor regarded O’Neill and Teal’c contemplatively before bowing to them and in Imperial Standard informing them that their deeds against Amun-Ra and Anksu-Apophis were the subject of many songs and tales even out here in the Dominion of the Aesir. His eyes scanned passed them to Hammond and he nodded grimly.

“He wants to know if you come here seeking Valhalla for lords of War your age seldom rides out to battle beside their champions.” Daniel responded, sheepishly. Hammond raised an eyebrow the skin on his bald head tightening in a mixture of amusement and frustration. Damnit! He wasn’t that old! Walking forward he eyed Ecthor, who himself looked to be in his fifties. “Tell him, war chiefs on my world don’t let old bones slow their minds or their hands.” He said, tightening a gloved grip on the family bowie knife he always wore. A look of amused defiance in his old eyes.

Ecthor’s men went silent recognizing the rebuke for what it was, and the tension suddenly mounted until Ecthor burst into laughter and begged Hammond’s pardon. Saying that it was only for the magnitude of the threat which plagued Hurot that he wondered if the old warrior came to die, but if he was the master of a company that included O’Neill God slayer and Teal’c the fearless and the Demon arsonist Ka’tur as the Jaffa had taken to calling Carter than surely, he was not one to be overcome by simple brutes with mighty weaponry.

As the party advanced down the road Hammond began to notice the road which was designed to support heavy use was completely still except for a few families on horse carts with frightened children. “How many do you guys reckon there are?”

“Hard to say, they raid mostly at night and are uncommonly fast and hardy.” Ecthor answered through Daniel. “But I believe five hundred, perhaps less. All in all, a paltry force, had they been any other group of off world marauders we would have had them hung by their entrails already. My men have driven off Lucien pirates before.”

Teal’c raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing. “The trouble with these things is that they’re insanely hard to kill, hide thick as iron and they’re bent on hitting everywhere and everything around the Wyryn, they’ve burned dozens of settlements, destroyed one of our cities by breaching a dam we built. If they came to extort us, they have done so much damage to our ability to grow or mine anything in this part of the country that they are working against their needs.” It was a mystery that clearly daunted Ecthor who had taken a rather flirtatious tone with his Petty Officer, eliciting a murderous glare from Jack who Hammond could tell was resisting a request that his daughter be sent back through the gate.

Hammond was resisting the urge to send her back himself, except he needed the extra hand, and she was going to have to go on a mission sooner or later. -Better she draws first blood with us beside her than with a team of raw recruits, or strangers.- Hammond thought. “Does he recognize the aliens at all?” Makepeace asked and Ecthor shook his head responding that at first, he thought they were Unas, there was a small colony of Unas on an island in his domains but they were hard workers, laborers and had little inclination to war.

Teal’c seemed visibly relieved at that. “Unas were once the soldiers of the Imperium before the Jaffa, they have a long lifespan and breed slowly, they evolved on the same primordial world as the Peers. They are immensely strong, but it is true, they are not a warlike people and take pride in their trade work and craftmanship. They worship Thoth and if I were to indulge in idle speculation, they worshipped Brokkr and Sindiri here, the Jotuns who the premier engineers among the Asgardians before their deaths.” Idly Teal’c gripped the Jaffa staff he carried with him, it too had been built by Brokkr for Anubis. “But if they are Unas like, then it gives us a clue there are several races descended from Unas who interbred with other reptile like species.”

“So, we’re fighting lizardmen from space.” Jack said with a shake of his head. “We’re fighting lizardmen from space for a mysterious heavy metal.”

“We’re living an old Metal Hurlant comic, aren’t we?” Ramirez asked amused.

“We usually do.” Carter said from their baggage train. She had been occupying herself by chattering with some of the few peasant refugees that had fallen in beside them. Some of them spoke Imperial Standard and Sam had been picking up enough of it to ask certain questions about what attacked them. Though she went quiet when they got close enough to the Wyryn to see the extent of the palace. Shaped like a Viking longhouse but bigger and taller than any she knew of that had ever been built on earth. A monument to the wealth and power of Hethrir’s dynasty, monuments like the kind her countrymen used to build before a bleakness overtook America. Today was a bad day, no matter the world, no matter the century.

Eleven was a bad number.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Teal'c talks lizards even more...Petty Officer O'Neill sees the Wyryn, they meet Hethrir and Space Viking and American culture probe each other.

.................

The Wyryn -Hurot: Asgard Protect Planet's zone.

The first thing that Sandra O’Neill noticed was that the walls looked burned, blasted and scarred. That the houses that filled either side of the streets leading to the Wyryn were all burnt out, pulled down and the dead were still being recovered by the smell of it. The second thing she noticed was that the people everywhere looked absolutely demoralized and the third thing? That while everyone here was human or mostly human, she could spot a few blue skinned aliens and a redskinned Kelownan or two. -Fascinating, people come even to this primitive worlds looking to profit from their skills.-

It explained why her father kept pointing out storm drains, public bathhouses and downed powerlines. Why they looked to be in the high Middle Ages and yet had working electric lighting and to a degree even cooling and heating. Not that they needed those, Hurot was a paradise, she doubted it was above seventy-two degrees and the air was cool and clean after a horrific massacre. People received them as conquering heroes and she felt a pang of guilt about the fact that they were likely going to demand payment for the monster slaying in a form of a somewhat uneven treaty. Doctor Jackson had explained that in their culture it was expected, and some sources indicated that not extorting the people you saved was seen as disrespectful.

That was whack but she didn’t let it dampen her excitement, her first mission off world! Her first actual adventure and it was with her father, her mentor and her sister’s role model and someone she considered a close friend. And there was Doctor Jackson, who wasn’t bad company and Teal’c whose advice had become something she’d come to cherish. “I know you didn’t want me on this mission..Da-Sir..but.”

O’Neill waved his daughter off. “Honestly, up until a minute ago, I wasn’t too worried about you. You’re well trained and you helped repel Tealc’s best guys remember? I thought mopping up a bunch of criminals wasn’t going to be too risky. Still had to pretend to be mad, you know fathers’ rights and all.”

She nodded; it had been a sore spot between them the involvement of his children in the Stargate project up until very recently. Her father wanted them lightyears away from any of the dangers he’d lived through in his life and she and Sasha didn’t really realize West was tapping them for the project to use as leverage until after his death. “Well, I’m glad..wait why until a minute ago?”

“Look around you. This is a big city, well town by the standards of their tech level.” Sometimes her dad was shockingly smart, other times..he was well..himself. And they wrecked this place pretty damn good…That’s my concern here.” O’Neill responded. “I doubt they sent their full force here either, but still they did all this damage. They’ve gotta be Jaffa strong and Jaffa tough or near enough as they’re the only guys I know tough enough to run wild like that….Well except for some United States Marines on leave with too much booze in ‘em and nothing to amuse themselves with.”

Suppressing an urge to roll her eyes at the Marine brag she nodded. “Teal’c do you know any species that matches…The Colonel’s profile.”

“I can think of several” Teal’c said grimly. “Though most of them are not known for the kind of violent behavior I am seeing here.”

“Anyone in particular?” Sandra asked.

“Sleestak, Slytharians and The Scarrans.” He recalled, that the Cylons, the robotic creatures created by the Kobolons were named after a semi mythical reptilian species native to Caprica that their ancestors allegedly destroyed when they tamed the planet after the “Gods” exiled them from Kobol. In Teal’cs mind they were probably a colony of Unas who had been left on that world and forgotten by Izanagi in the distant past.

“Scarrans? Aren’t those the guys you and your wife blew up?”

“Indeed.”

“You missed some.”

“That remains to be seen, O’Neill”

“oookkayyy.”

“Gentlemen.” Hammond’s voice carried in a way Sandra didn’t think it would due to the oppressive silence that hung over this mangled city. People looked up, gazing at the strange men and women with a strange language and she smiled. “We’re the aliens here..” she whispered causing Doctor Jackson to smile at the allusion. “It’s true and we speak a language none of them have ever even heard of, but some might recognize as sharing some root elements with their own.” He needed to write a book about that, one day when all this was declassified.

How to learn alien languages by inference and how to apply the psychological and cultural eccentricities of Earth to neighboring worlds without causing an interstellar incident or something. “Grandpa Nick was right in so many ways, wrong in so many others. He’d be so thrilled.” He gave a reluctant shake of his head, that was the only thing he really regretted about being part of this wonderful and insane program. Even losing Shau’re was worth having met her and loved her in the first place, but to not be able to share all of this with the kind man who was more a father to him than a grandpa.

“My grandfather would have gotten a kick out of this too.” Carter muttered, falling in line between Jackson and the younger O’Neill twin, looping her arms through theirs. “His whole thing was that space was the future, even before he got brought into project Constellation, he was adamant that there was life out there.” She smiled sadly, one of the reasons the more benevolent Goa’uld intrigued her was their ability to seemingly cure any disease and repair any genetic defects or damage resulting from said diseases and depending on the species so much more. She lost her parents to terrorism, her grandfather to disease and she nearly lost her surrogate family to picking a fight she wasn’t ready for.

The Wyryn was an impressive castle and Daniel inquired as to what it meant as it didn’t seem to match any Nordic or Celtic or Aejirian words. Teal’c explained that it was Sebacean for “Vault” or “Strongbox.”. Of course, a High King whose victories in the field of battle were likely heavily contingent on the wealth that flowed through the Stargate would name his Castle “Castle Bank”. It was almost cliché but the building itself was a marvel of engineering for any era and the odd mix of gilded age technology (The lamps, the fans, other subtle signs of working electricity and the engineering knowhow.) and high medieval period architecture and textiles with dark age Viking aesthetics. The whole galaxy was weird, the Imperium’s planets went from barely out of the bronze age (Abydos.) to densely populated worlds with technology she couldn’t even conceptualize and all of them seemed to have an aesthetic clash of eras.

And then there was Hethrir himself who to Samantha Carter looked like a living relic almost as much as Apophis had. He sat on a throne elevated above the rest of some ginormous multi-storied feasting hall on a throne made of what she suspected was some sort of ivory. He was gray haired, wrinkled, haggard but he must have been as tall as Teal’c because even back bent he looked like her head would maybe reach his chest. His bald head was a patchwork of scars that spoke of a youth spent in constant war. His hands were gnarled and looked more like bear paws and though she was told he was closer to a hundred years, he looked to be in his late sixties at most. His voice was loud, booming and was very much the voice of a man who was used to frivolity, laughter and command. -He’s never been challenged, existentially. All the wars to conquer this planet were wars he had been certain he could win no matter how damaging they were- Her eyes narrowed.

Carter didn’t like that.

P.O O’Neill walked up and alongside Daniel introduced the group. Amusingly, some of the warrior’s there seemed afraid of the Colonel more than Teal’c and more than the Admiral (Who they should have feared more than anyone even the monsters.). Others looked up with eyes glinting with wounded pride at her team. This wasn’t going to be easy, whoever the enemy was outside there would be challenges within that would cause near as many problems if the Stargate teams weren’t careful. Hethrir seemed to sense this and smiled a kind of smile she didn’t quite like as he leaned forward and offered them welcome into his hall and told them that rumors of their victories and standoffs had reached even here. “I hear you killed Sek’het…I saw him fight once when I was a boy, he killed an entire room full of Lucian pirates with nothing but a knife.”

When the younger O’Neill translated it, Jack laughed. “It was me and Daniel here.” He said slapping Jackson’s shoulder. “And an Abydonian princess. But I did crush his chest and send his head through those ring things yeah.”

Hethrir seemed to consider the translated words, replying in Imperial Standard. “And how? Boy, do you believe a Tau’Ri war chief, a Skald and a little girl were able to overcome the champion of Amun Ra?”

O’Neill grinned a feral grin. “Because Snake boy wasn’t trying to beat me, he was trying to humiliate me to prove a point of honor to his wounded pride. I’d gotten the better of him twice before and he didn’t like that very much.”

When this was translated the spectators who filled his hall murmured amongst themselves. And Hethrir’s smile only broadened, Carter noted he had all his teeth. Something she didn’t quite expect for a medieval near centenarian. “And you, do not engage in battle to prove matters of honor hmm?”

“No sir, when a United States Space Marine engages in battle, he means to kill his enemies until there are none left, or his soul departs his body. Whichever comes first, I leave the honor of matter to be decided by the folks that I serve.”

The room was silent, minus a few laughs until Hethrir erupted in laughter and nodded his head. “Ah, you aren’t a warrior.”

“No, King I’m a soldier.” O’Neill answered in space Egyptian, hey he had been learning if slowly. Hethrir turned to Hammond and Teal’c and asked them if they shared O’Neill’s view on the matters of honor and their place in war. Questions Carter believed could be answered with a “the object of war is to achieve political ends that couldn’t be achieved via negotiation. There’s no honor in that…just give me fissile material, some Naquadah and a machine shop and a rad suit and I’ll end your damn war by lunch.” Though she was reasonably certain her answer to the obvious character test (Apparently the guy besieged by space monsters wanted to see if the values of his deliverers matched up with this own…) would have counted as an instafail.

Teal’c answered that the legions of the Serpent Guard were always about creating warriors and soldiers and that both had their place in war. An answer that satisfied many, but it was Hammond’s answer when translated that seemed to send the crowd into cheers. “I come from a different military order than Colonel O’Neill sir, one that is more ruthless than the marines. We decapitate in the dead of night so that when men of honor fight on the field they can go home to see their wives and children. Honor, is in the man as much as it is in the deed and neither of our orders leaves a fallen man behind or lets an insult to the weak go unchallenged and if you want your monster problem taken care of, we’re the guys you want, because we’re bigger, meaner monsters. Besides, I don’t think it’s honorable to try and humiliate an enemy solely to salve your wounded ego Sir. Where I come from that is just thuggery.”

“Well-said Hammond of Texas, spoken as a warrior Skald even. Though, you dissimilate a bit, you and yours would not come here without purpose.”

The Admiral didn’t rise to the insult instead he admitted it. “No, even now as we stand here an enemy fleet is being built with the purpose of coming to our world to conquer it and we need Trinium and access to…some knowledge regarding the Aesir.” Hammond said, unwilling to inquire about the weapons depot in public.

The King answered that if all they wanted was some Trinium his subjects were being offered a bargain for they had more Trinium than most worlds and they would gladly part with some. “Though, I warn you, more arrive every day and we aren’t certain how.”

…Lovely.

………

Instead of feasting, the King had ordered a simple mean be brought out and the hall cleared of all but his warriors, the Stargate teams and witnesses and survivors of the battles and raids. That was a smart decision, what they needed right now was information and details sufficient to form a plan of action and if Major Ramirez was being honest, he really didn’t like the idea of getting wasted on the potential eve of battle. No, he thought from his chair, that was a young man’s game and if he was going to throwdown with marauding space aliens, he wanted to be sober and clear eyed and rested.

His men shared his sentiments, as most had dozed off after dinner, getting sleep when they could like proper hunters and waking only when he tapped the table to wake them as the witnesses came in. Several were members of what passed for the Wyryn’s police force while the others seemed to be civilians if Ramirez could tell by their outfits. Unlike O’Neill and Makepeace Ramirez didn’t speak much space Egyptian and so he stayed silent, trusting the senior officers to ask questions while either the other O’Neill or Doctor Jackson translated.

It appeared they had some kind of armored pets, lizards similar to the ones that attacked the Rangers on Avalon and Ramirez suppressed a shudder. The last thing he wanted was for his men to be eaten alive by Komodo dragons the size of SUV’s. Teal’c remained impassive until an old man with a missing eye and healing burns on his right eye described two types of lizard like creatures, pale skinned and tall and one had a long reptilian like snout with fangs and the other has a more Lotar (Which he understood to mean humanoid) like face with a perpetual frown and cold beady eyes. Evidently these guys could produce heat from their hands, which could paralyze and kill the person targeted and killing them was dangerous as near boiling blood would shoot out and scald those who were attacked. Ramirez didn’t like this; they were going to run out of antibiotics faster than a pharmacy in a redlight district due to all the burns they would likely be treating after the first engagement if they weren’t careful.

“Everyone worries about bullet wounds in battle.” He muttered rubbing the bridge of his nose. Makepeace nodded in wordless agreement with the sentiment. Infections were always his primary concern and he’d seen enough bad burns in jungles kill soldiers to make him almost regret volunteering. “We need to keep our people segregated if we take any injuries, no matter how clean this place might look it’s still primitive and who knows what their sanitation standards are for surgical tools.”

O’Neill gave a slight nod, though it had been addressed at Makepeace and asked Teal’c if he recognized the race. Teal’c responded by asking if the creatures violated any of the females before departure. When the man responded that one of his granddaughters had been raped to death by two, Teal’c looked ready to throw his chair across the hall “Hassak Scarren!”

Hassack, Hassak, Hursac as the Abydonians said it..Ramirez knew what that meant.

Hammond asked Teal’c if those were the people, he and his wife made war against for Apophis, and he nodded. “Indeed Admiral, they are a race of despoiled, inbred, serial raping savages partially descended from Unas. They conquered dozens of species for sport and believed in their own genetic superiority and that said superiority granted them the right to do with the universe as they pleased. And though our legal scribes could never prove it, our Ashrak swore the Scarran Empire funded the research into biological weaponry that made Linea famous early in her career. Raping females of other species was an atrocity they were legendary for. Their lust knew no bounds and their former colonies are filled with their illegitimate offspring.”

“What would they be doing here?” the Admiral asked.

Teal’c shrugged answering that he did not know. To Ramirez the reason didn’t matter, from what Teal’c described these bastards merited a “shoot first, ask for surrender later” approach. The other race, long tailed and far more cartoonishly lizard like Teal’c identified as Sleestak, a formerly advanced species that aided the Ori as servants whom the System Lords crushed early in their war and had hunted to near extinction in revenge for their refusal to join them in their ancient rebellion.

Later that night Teal’c explained that was left of their race, which had once been quadrillions strong had been reduced to two million primitives huddled in a world rad bombed to near uselessness. Over the next ninety thousand years, their species crawled from barely above animals to a barbaric and nomadic state. Sleestak were hateful, they resented the Asgardians who refused to help them in their hour of need, they utterly despised the Goa’uld for the loss of all they once possessed and the murder of their Gods (The Ori.) and roamed the Galaxies as gangsters, pirates, drug dealers, bounty hunters and thieves. He understood their anger at the snakes, they had stolen from earth, abducted his ancient cousins and flung them across the Galaxies too, but that didn’t give them the right to rampage around the universe brutalizing decent people because of the crimes of a few ancient reptiles who played at being Gods.

The one thing that all the witnesses had in common was that the attacks they survived were uncharacteristically brutal; they didn’t occupy mines or carry off children to Lucian slave markets as was common in other primitive parts of the cosmos. They didn’t steal wealth or food, they just arrived and slaughtered and slaughtered and kept slaughtering. The most distressing part of it was that it seemed like they didn’t have a leader, but they were all certain they had seen one, a great hulking alien in the shadows.

Once it all wound down, Hammond asked Teal’c if it was possible that a closet Gate Network could be why they seemed to have an endless supply of troops, but Teal’c shook his head. “It is only a technology utilized by the Imperium and their most trusted or lucrative trading partners. To my knowledge the Asgardians do not utilize such devices and I believe they would have had to transport a secondary Stargate to this planet in any case. Though it is possible they came by ship, though with the Hetch drive the Scarrans use it would have taken them several years to arrive here. Perhaps, they stole a vessel with a working hyperdrive.”

“But how does that explain their belief that more are arriving every day?” Doctor Carter asked, she’d been unusually silent during the whole debacle, her mind wandering slightly, and Ramirez understood why. She was an unusually attractive thing for a scientist, much less someone who had blown herself up several times before she was old enough to drive.

“They might just be demoralized.” Ramirez offered, though he immediately regretted it. Nothing in the Wyryn suggested that Hethrir himself was being beaten down by this, only that his subjects were completely terrified and seemingly preparing to die. Could a people like that devolve into hysteria so quickly? From what he understood, the raids against the Wyryn had only begun recently. Unless the rest of this dude’s enormous kingdom was almost constantly under siege and if that was the case then he was a bigger idiot then any monarch Ramirez had read about in school. -Letting your people fall victim to a horde of lizardmen and then lying about it for as long as you can get away with it? ‘Sta loco.-

Hammond nodded, he’d taken up one of the larger cots in the room and seemed as comfortable out here in this weird pastiche world as he would have back on Earth. A reminder that the Admiral spent the majority of his career sleeping in ditches and fighting the wilderness and all kinds of enemies America would never know it had. “Maybe, but all the same, I’d like to understand what we’re dealing with here. Teal’c says Scarrans are almost as strong as Jaffa and their bodies can resist energy weapons to a high degree naturally.”

“I do indeed Admiral, though I believe your rifles should penetrate their hides far easier than they do Jaffa armor. The danger will lie in when they close the gap between us.” Teal’c contended, gripping his staff weapon tightly, almost as if he was trying to channel the Spirit of Anubis. “Scarrans are the worst impulses of the Goa’uld with none of their high-minded values, or virtues. None of their inhibitions about being seen as body thieves that restrain them.”

“Or their moral compass I guess.” Jack said, surprising himself. If you had asked him in 2015 or hell even in the weeks after the fight at Chulak what he thought of the Goa’uld he’d have sneered and called them brain eating parasites, snakes that needed to be exterminated. Now he only really held that opinion about Amunet and Apophis, Horus might have used lethal force on his men but even O’Neill could tell he was shocked and upset by the fact that he’d stabbed Jackson and the disgust in his voice when describing what Amunet did and his sincerity at the promise to bury his friends with honor and leave Earth alone…In any case what he didn’t like about their weird ass gilded cage Empire paled in comparison to a race that was summed up as “Rape Iguanas in space.” And from what he saw here on Hurot, Teal’c’s wife did the Galaxies a favor when she blew up their empire.

“So, we have no idea how they’re doing what they’re doing to get here and there’s scant evidence of high-tech weaponry.” It was Makepeace who answered this time, an annoyed look on his usually calm features. “What we need to do is figure out where the hell they’re at.”

“I’ve got Watson on drone duty.” Ramirez offered. “he’ll know if we’re going to be attacked tonight Sir and if so, maybe we can have the drones follow them back to their lair.”

“Lair?” O’Neill asked.

Ramirez shrugged lazily. “They’re lizardmen, don’t lizardmen always have a lair?”

Hammond laughed from his cot. “I don’t know if comic books, and tabletop games are a good way to anticipate enemy action son.”

“Our entire lives are comic books at this point, sir” O’Neill chimed in, getting up and cracking his back. “Permission to turn in sir?”

“We could all use some shuteye.” Hammond said, putting a cap over his eyes. He’d ordered them to sleep in the hall, after something Jack had said before departure. Something about how this all seemed familiar to him to some degree. Hammond thought he was talking about Beowulf but Jack insisted it was something else, something he couldn’t place at that moment. Which wasn’t too surprising given the attention span O’Neill had when he wasn’t laser focused on a mission.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Teal'c and Carter bond over being Orphans, doom marches towards the Wyryn as Teal'c gives a little more info on the Titans rebellion and just how corrupt Cronus/Kronos was. Also, some info on just how much the Peers crap on other Goa'uld.

Credit to whoever did this painting by the way because..damn.

.................

The Wyryn -Hurot: Asgard Protect Planet's zone.

While the others slept, Teal’c who had been in a state of Kelno’Reem for the last hour (which was comparable to sleeping six hours.), made his time exploring the Wyryn. His long shadow haunting the columns in the hall of battle, a section of the great castle dedicated to exhibiting the armor used by the various kings and potentates that Hethrir and his father before him had subjugated in their wars to unify the two dominant continents on this planet. Though it lacked the immensity of Goa’uld architecture and its multicolored towering monoliths or the charm of the practical yet aesthetically pleasing architecture of Tau’Ri, it was an appreciable middle ground. A feat of engineering that for a people so primitive might have been a marvel and it made Teal’c wonder how many laborers, builders and engineers died completing this behemoth of a structure and if so, just how many of them had been prisoners of war drafted into a labor force. It wasn’t a pleasant thought about a potential ally, but Teal’c knew the Admiral and O’Neill were both thinking the same. They had seen the look in those eyes, the cruelty, the coldness.

Sebaceans were a prototype of the Jaffa race, cast out of the Imperium because of the genetic defects that prevented them from enduring extreme heat, because their lifespans weren’t as long as a Jaffa’s would be even without a symbiote and because many of them could not control their more aggressive impulses. Teal’c had little use for such a broken people, though he knew his sentiments were prejudiced and thus refused to disparage King Hethrir with the Tau’Ri for being one quarter Sebacean. His wife had always insisted to him that while the race might have been despoiled not all of them were bad, she’d befriended some angry young officer forty years ago, Crais or something like that and his tenacity had impressed her. Teal’c remembered she even mourned his death. And so, armed with the knowledge that it was likely his biased speaking to him he had stayed silent, until he saw the eyes of his Tau’Ri friends and leaders. Hammond of Texas was wise for someone who was so young, O’Neill possessed an intuition that was almost clairvoyant. In the time he spent with them, he’d come to value their insights above all others save Daniel Jackson. And both saw what he saw, Doctor Carter had as well but she didn’t speak up because she would have ignored far worse if it meant her people obtaining their goals.

…Samantha Carter.

The one member of his team that Teal’c wasn’t quite certain about yet. She liked him, which was surprising for he was an alien and Carter seemed to place the Tau’Ri above all other concerns and she trusted him enough, but he was never fully certain if he could extend that courtesy in the other direction. Carter was a youth with a great deal of personal wounds, and even greater potential both for madness and greatness beneath a surface that had grown thinner by the day and though she was improving and mending now (Because she’d learn to trust her teammates and the O’Neill Twins.), to go into battle with someone whom he believed had the lingering mental wounds of battle and had not yet consented to addressing always carried its risks. “She needs to get her head above water Big guy” O’Neill had said, and it was true. But had it been the Serpent legions, had he commanded, he likely would have sent her to the healers the moment they returned from Avalon.

No, that wasn’t correct, had this still been Apophis’s military he would have been too busy running an armed forces that numbered in the billions to really be able to focus on one, single soldier that needed help. The youngest War Master ever, yet he believed at times that he knew less about individual soldiering than O’Neill and the others, for he spent comparatively less time as one than the others. Perhaps he’d forgotten until very recently the bonds of local command, for Hammond was not the sort of leader of men to let one of his bleed mentally or otherwise unaided. Perhaps it was true about focused thoughts being capable of conjuration because Samantha Carter was seated on a ledge, a leg hanging over stone her back leaning into the wall behind her. She was gazing up at the moons, or moon and a half, there were a series of rings around the main moon and a quarter remaining of the original. “The handywork of one of your ancestors Teal’c?” Carter asked offering him a jug of what he assumed was the rose tasting honey wine these primitives enjoyed.



Likely not, Teal’c thought. “Anubis, or Apophis, possibly Horus or Garak or Unas under the command of them.” It could have been Izanagi, the eldest member of the house of Ame-No-Manakushi outside of Garak. The father of System Lord Countess Amaterasu and her Tsukuyomi and the grandfather of Raijin the ape like first prime and however many hundred million or so descendants produced by Tsukuyomi who was one of the most prolific queens this side of Hathor and their progeny thereafter. “In the early days of the war, the Goa’uld held very few planets, but they had seized factory worlds and so their strategy was to hit everywhere, as often as they could to confound the enemy. A hundred thousand years and no doubt extensive effort by the Asgard to repair the damage to the ecosystem.”

Carter nodded; a shattered moon would have done God knows what to the planet, another testament to the mysterious Asgardian races and their technological might. She knew the Goa’uld weren’t that far off, that alarmed her and had always guided her outlook on Stargate command’s mission. “If you can’t beat a superior enemy, make your attacks confusing…Were these Asgard worlds back then?”

Teal’c shook his head. “I believe they belonged to none, it’s possible there was a military installation here of Fyryns. The Ori were not in any position to act aggressively so far out of their territories.” Or so the legends went any way, steeped in a mythical past and shrouded by the mists of time it was never easy to figure out how much of the truth was legend or fable and after a hundred thousand years, it was likely even the oldest of the Peers had forgotten.

“Do you remember your parents?” Sam asked suddenly, her voice sounding every bit as young as she looked. Teal’c raised an eyebrow, ah yes was the eleventh not the anniversary of their deaths? And if he recalled Earth history, a particularly nasty terror attack.

“My father was a Prime to Kronos..”

“C, or K?”

“Interchangeable, Doctor his role in the Imperial religion seems to have been corrupted into two distinct Titans on Earth. In any case, Kronos dismissed my father from his service for refusing to execute an Ashrak he believed was wrongly implicated in a gene trafficking operation. One of the Titan’s illegitimate spawns had been selling genetic material to the Ashen Confederacy, a grave crime. Father always believed the Titan had a hand in it.”

“Were they poor?” Carter asked confused, the House of Aether seemed to be involved in all kinds of stuff that was usually associated with organized crime or corrupt multinationals and dirty politicians not something she’d expect from powerful aristocrats that ruled huge pieces of entire galaxies.

“No, but the world they came from was quite resource deprived and the worlds they tamed and conquered took many centuries to elevate to what they are now. They were considered the Galactic wilderness. I believe Kronos and Zeus suffered from some many of neurosis from that long ago era.” Teal’c shrugged. “It matters not why, in the end my parents and my sister were left to wander..My sister needed a Prim’tah but by the time they could scrounge up enough to obtain one on the black market…Prim’tah are heavily regulated. If a Jaffa serves not a Peer nor the Imperial bureaucracy, then obtaining one is impossible and death is all but assured for their children. It is how they keep Jaffa from attempting to become warlords out in the uncharted territories or in space not claimed by the Imperium and how they keep the lesser races of Goa’uld from being used like chattel..Except for by the Peers I suppose.”

Fair, she thought, if Jaffa could just access replacement Symbiotes for their own offspring whenever they wanted, there was no reason for them not to go do what the Sebacean people did she supposed. And, whether she liked it or not, Goa’uld were sentient beings and the manner in which the Peers oppressed their less evolved cousins and used them to enhance the Jaffa was terrible. The Jaffa might not have been slaves, but they certainly had a sword of Damocles over their heads as did the Goa’uld themselves. -I can give them that at least- Carter thought bitterly, the sword that hung over the lowliest soldier hung over their “Gods” as well, it took balls to be a member of the elite and willingly point a gun at yourself to earn loyalty however twisted...

Her own national leaders hadn’t taken risks like that in decades. “I take it..the Symbiote wasn’t?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Too primitive and she was too ill. Agents of Apophis eventually found us, my father was made a Prime and given estates on Chulak and I was given over to Bra’tac to act as his personal..hmm..I suppose Squire or Page is the closest analogue in your language and cultures that comes to mind. My mother was a Priestess of the Imperial religion, a lore master and she came with us and was placed beside Shaun’ac as her aide and representative of the clerics of Apophis on Dakkara.”

“Sounds generous” Carter murmured; she was sporting that sleepy look she got when she was intensely focused on someone talking. Teal’c was surprised none of this bored her or was unsatisfactory. Jackson and Carter were both very young and the very young do not always enjoy hearing an autobiography however brief. “Lord Apophis was generous.” Teal’c conceded. “He wanted to tap my father’s talent and I believe part of him an echo of the hero he was once was impressed with his honesty. He also hated Kronos and viewed his humiliation over the scandal to be justice.”

Teal’c swallowed. “They died the day of the Titan’s rebellion. I was on Dakkara with Bra’tac attending him as he dueled Herakles. My father and mother were called aboard Ra’s pleasure barge, for her intended to hold court as he departed on one of his Imperial progresses. Lord Apophis did not attend. Nor any of the House of Aether, in hindsight perhaps that should have alerted Ra. As it was, the Countess Izanami requested they delay for a tea ceremony. Ra was far too annoyed and Sek’Het I believe did not alert the Jaffa aboard his palace of light….the pleasure barge. That fact saved their lives..Kronos had a bomb planted in the engineering section of the vessel, its powerplant. I remember seeing it, Iwnw’s top tower burned. My parents were murdered…” He let out a warm breath which steamed in the cool night air. It had been a long time since he’d told anyone that story. “I was twelve years old.”

“I remember too.” Carter whispered. “I was five..I don’t remember the details like that only that..Grandpa took me to work that day. The Pentagon was so big, I was so excited to see it. I was with his secretary Miss Jenkins, she was sweet…She gave me candy. I remember being really happy because I hadn’t seen my Daddy or mom in a month, I think…I just. All of a sudden there was noise, so much noise…” She looked up at Teal’c sadly. “The terror attacks in 2001, you know the sad part? I can’t remember if my mom was on the plane when it hit or my dad..But one of them was at work in the building with grandpa and the other was.” She stopped herself and sighed. “They talk about me like I’m a firebug, an arsonist, but I’m not. Fire isn’t an old friend…It’s a vicious animal that..That kills your family in broad daylight.” Carter looked like she was about to bolt from her seated position, but she remained. “When my grandfather died, it was all I had left.”

“That is no longer correct Doctor Carter.” If it was correct at all, had not Jacob Carter more children? Did she not have a great many cousins? Human filial relations confounded the Jaffa sometimes. He set a hand on her shoulder and felt Carter’s hair brush up against his forearm as she leaned against him. “Stupid..old..man.” she whispered in a grateful voice, evidently crying. Teal’c smiled but said nothing, allowing them a moment of silence for those whom they both loved that had left them behind.

“Thanks, Teal’c.”

“For?”

“Nothing.”

He was content to stand there with his comrade until the sun rose, but at that moment a series of horns broke the silence of the night and at the city’s edge Teal’c espied a series of what looked like pulse flashes.

Carter stood.

“They’re here.”

It was time to repel the enemy, to strike a first blow for Tau’Ri and for Teal’c to finish what his family started years ago.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Alright ladies and gents, update time.

The SGC has its first battle with forces that don't belong to the System Lords, Carter gets a little crazy and Hammond and O'Neill preside over a changed hall!

Planet Hurot- Asgard protected planet’s zone.

The Wyryn.

……………….

“Pulse blasts? Are you sure?” Sam asked, her eyes narrowed on the horizon. It looked like they had breached the walls near a canal that likely fed the sewer systems of the town that seemed to circle the Longhouse shaped castle. Teal’c handed her a pair of binoculars and when Carter took a look through them, she could make out long snouted, tall creatures that looked like bipedal Komodo Dragons hacking and slashing but the taller broader lizardmen without tails were firing bolts of bright red energy from what looked like rifles to her. “Are those Scarrans.”

“Indeed.” Teal’c answered with not a small hint of venom in his voice. “But I do not understand, Hethrir said nothing of energy weaponry, even crude ones why would he deceive us?” That seemed to run contrary to his whole reason for allowing the SGC to engage these brigands on his planet. Whatever answer Sam was going to give him however was silenced by Teal’c whirring around and activating the ancient staff weapon he wielded. A bolt of green plasma lanced out and removed the head of a figure climbing along the wall, while another leaped over its failing comrade, crashing into Teal’c whose staff skidded along the floor. The creature that was on Teal’c was eight feet long, looked like a fat, broad snouted Komodo Dragon with armored plating on its scales and a spiked club on its tail. Its fangs were wrapped around Teal’c left arm crunching down through body armor and crushing bone.

Sam opened fire, the rounds from her next gen weapon shattering plates of armored bone and digging into flesh. The creature let out a deep malevolent hiss and turned on her charging Carter who was being backed towards the balcony’s ledge as the creature slid on its blood and crashed into her, pinning her legs to the wall. Teal’c was up, one handed firing the staff at yet another wall climbing before he walked towards Sam pulling the dead animal off.

“Are you well Doctor Carter?”

“I’m fine big guy.” She said before her eyes met his left forearm, metal plating was bent and twisted, fabric torn, and she could see shattered bone and deep puncture wounds four inches wide. She instinctively reached for it, but Teal’c jerked away, and she realized why…There was an odd sweet smell to his wound, his blood steamed and gave off an odd color. “They’re venomous?!”

“I believe so, I was feeling sluggish until my Prim’tah began pumping my body with adrenaline.”

“Teal’c do…I mean..Junior, can he?”

The Jaffa nodded. “The poison will be neutralized quickly enough Doctor. Though repairing bone damage this extensive will not be pleasant, perhaps after the battle I might partake in large doses of morphine, that I might sleep through the process.”

“yeah…sure..wait lets head to the hall, I’ll radio command and let them know these damn things are venomous!” she hissed kicking one of the corpses before they began their retreat. Over the radio she heard that Ramirez and his team were engaging bipedal Komodo like lizardmen who were wearing armor that looked like Roman armor and Teal’c hissed “Slytherian” under his breath. “And I believe the ones we killed were of a subspecies of Sleestak.” He added telling Carter to advise Major Ramirez to aim for the head and chest, Slytharians apparently had formidable regenerative abilities and it was preferrable to destroy their brain or otherwise mangle every major organ in their body. “Doctor Carter, it may be prudent for Major Ramirez to avoid any short, faced intruders, Scarrans ought not to be fought unless we are all in the same room.”

“They’re the ones you said are super resistant to energy weaponry, right?” She asked, popping one of the crawling lizards that was trying to get at some servants behind a door in the eye and splattering most of its brain against a nearby wall.

“That is correct Doctor.”

“Do you think they’ll be bullet resistant too?”

“These next generation weapons the SGC were given have proven to be remarkably effective against Jaffa armor. I’ve yet to encounter organic matter that can long endure high velocity conical metallic objects battering it before it inevitably is torn into many grotesque pieces.” Teal’c answered causing Carter to laugh. “That’s music to my ears, so Scarrans, shoot on sight and shoot to kill.”

“Unless orders are given to the contrary, that is indeed what I would advise Doctor Carter” Teal’c said. As they ran, Teal’c showed no signs of slowing even though his face was pale and clammy and the lobotomized Goa’uld inside him began to neutralize the poison that otherwise would have rotten through his arm and killed him with a cascade of system destroying infections. (At least if their venom worked like Komodo Dragons.), a long the way several of Hethrir’s guard joined them commanded by a young man with slightly blue skin. He identified himself as Rothgar the older brother of a Prince who was killed during the first raid. He wielded a Trinium ax, and it worked as well as Teal’cs staff against these reptilian marauders or so it would appear as it was covered in a red blood tinged slightly green.

“Ramirez fall back to the mainhall, Makepeace will rendezvous with you there, we’ll drive the bastards out.”

O’Neill’s voice rang out in their comms and the group ran past panicked servants and onrushing guards, towards the doors that lead to the first level of the feasting hall. Lights flickering as bulbs burst from straw plasma shots painted a grotesque picture. Men had been ripped in half, a serving girl was screaming as she was being carted away on the shoulders of a short faced Scarran and Makepeace was locked in a knife fight with a fat frog looking thing that kept trying to take his head off with thrusts that overextended his body. The Colonel swerved, slashed the creature’s wrist then drove his blade under the armpit. Gouts of blood spurted from the creature as Makepeace kicked it into the back of the knees of what Teal’c told her was a long faced Scarran who roared in his disorientation and reared on Makepeace only to be shot to pieces by members of Makepeace’s SG team, who had descended onto the scene like a wolf pack and fired into the Scarran until his steaming blood and bone matter were raining down on his fellow lizardmen. Makepeace had been pulled back and handed his weapon. Sam looked around until she saw Sandra O’Neill firing methodically at anything that came near Admiral Hammond who was standing on one of the raised tables, grim faced, silent and covered in the blood of whatever the hell was unfortunate enough to get near him.

The jokes about Hammond being a living anachronism to the early days of the US navy wasn’t entirely untrue. Standing tall in the carnage he looked at home same as he did at his desk in the SGC. “Where are Daniel and the Colonel?” Sam called to Makepeace who gestured to where a group of archers were raining hell down on the weaker lizardmen. O’Neill was shooting anything that the archers missed while Daniel was handling a console.

-Oh. So that’s why there’s gunfire outside. - Sam thought. Two of the Drones they brought along were a new kind of combat drone, one designed from materials created by Project Constellation that hadn’t even hit skunkworks yet and were mounted with armor piercing rounds. No doubt they were strafing the armed Scarrans and leading them and their energy weapons away from the settlement or killing them all.

It was clear they were going to win this one, the creatures hadn’t anticipated resistance from a more developed group of humans and when the explosives started going off they began to turn and break only to be bolstered by a group of armed Scarrans who entered the fray firing their pulse rifles. Semi-automatic energy guns…Carter never thought she’d see the day, she wanted to get her hands on those things.

Teal’c had ducked behind a bench and pulled her with him. The two firing at the advancing intruders, his mythical staff weapon blowing the entire upper body off an unarmed Slytharian, while a tall alligator looking creature used its tail to whip a barrel of what she assumed was mead at their position. -Great, I’m going to smell like booze and be sticky if those public baths aren’t working-. Pulses, bullets, each whizzed around and several of the armed lizards died; their insanely tough hides crumbling after a few seconds of abuse from the best weapons the US armed forces had at their disposal. The room was awash in reptilian blood and the steam from the immense body heat of these unnatural creatures. Behind them, Hammond called for the SG teams to advance. “Space Force! Hoooo!”.

Carter leaped out, her blood up, her despair wracked brain pouring all the pent-up anxiety and grief into massacring as many of these cold-blooded interlopers who dared disrupt the US Space Force and the SGC’s mission to arm and save their planet as possible. Hammond took the lead, his rush forward with SG-6 and half of Makepeace’s group and the prince behind him, all firing relentlessly broke the momentum of the Scarrans one of which threw his pulse pistol to the floor and took off for the door only to be shot through the back by Carter who was determined not to allow a single one of them to escape.

A horn broke over the din and then another and another and soon the invaders turned and began to run, chased by the Stargate Reconnaissance teams and angry villagers.

The SGC had its first engagement on another world against forces that weren’t from the Imperium and the engagement was a total rout. While everyone else in the Wyryn cheered and O’Neill made his jokes, Admiral George S Hammond stood at the entrance to the great longhouse styled palace, eying the shadowy figure that stood like a statue on the northern walls, waiting as its men retreated and the in the dark of the night the Admiral wondered if the faint green glow of its eyes was a trick of the light.

Or a sign that something was very wrong here.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Aannnd we move along...Hammond gets himself a POW and the history of the "Japanese" pantheon and its relation to Ra's cosmic dynasty gets some light shed on and they figure out who the leader of the Scarrans is...but but the mystery deepens. Also a bit of info on the state of affairs within the US IC and US armed forces post Apophis' raid.

…………

Wyryn Castle: Outskirts- Planet Hurot

By the next morning the total tally of casualties numbered roughly one hundred sixty. One hundred of which were enemy lizards and none of which were members of the Space Force Marine division assigned to the SGC. Jaffa, giant eagles, war beasts, now ghoulish lizardmen from strange worlds who abducted women in the dead of night. Ranger or Space Marine, his kids acquitted themselves exactly as one would expect from the best of the best and the Admiral was proud of them all. He was also, grateful that the public baths weren’t destroyed, and he was able to clean as much of the blood and grime off him as possible and change into some new fatigues. As he walked through the aftermath of the battle, he was certain the stories about the century spanning unification wars weren’t mere propaganda. Though underpopulated the Wyryn was clearly the center capitol of a burgeoning empire, one that had spent several generations in continuous warfare. The people wept, briefly, celebrated their loved ones and by the time he got out of the bathhouse and made his way down the city streets people were beginning to rebuild their homes and stores.

No day of mourning, nor rest, religious services would be held that night and there likely would be neighborhood feasts held on their rest day to commemorate the dead and they would go on with their lives. It reminded him of the Congo early in his career and of Kosovo in the 1990’s when he organized black ops missions during the conflict. People inured to atrocity could bare an incredible amount of weight until one day they grew tired of the cycle and either snapped and tore down their leaders or pushed for reform in a more peaceful way. It was interesting to think of, as he looked around, he could see the usual mix of nonhuman hominids and human as the base stock in a lot of the men and women in the settlement. There were some aliens too and he was told that some of the human looking people were Sebacean or of Sebacean descent which he was told by Teal’c was a prototype species created before the Jaffa and exiled for being a failure. Teal’c didn’t hold them in very high esteem and from the angry and bitter looks some held at Teal’c the Admiral wondered if his exiled War Master wasn’t just as much of an anachronism as he was.

But what was interesting was that one out of every ten village looked like Serbians, or Russians or Swedes. Which he was told was the result of the Asgardians transporting Vikings lost at sea and their families to their sanctuary worlds. Apparently Hethrir’s ancestral claim to the Throne rested on him being descended from a “Chief among the newcomers”. Hammond wondered which of those chiefs and if they were at all like the brave heroes the history books mentioned when he was a boy or if they were as shrewd, cynical and manipulative as Hethrir.

Hethrir, he reminded the Admiral of someone. He just couldn’t figure out who, until he saw Ecthor’s police force accepting a bribe from a local businessman to buy three demolished “government” buildings for pennies on the pound or whatever the currency was. Coppers on the Gold piece? No wait, Hethrir used platinum as the standard and gold and silver coins were the next most valuable currencies.

Platinum as the standard, Hammond shook his head. Just suggesting that in an interview would be enough to send the global economy into a panic, plus the metal was rare on earth..apparently in Hurot it may as well have grown on trees. But the level of kleptocratic nonsense he and the elder O’Neill’s had seen since he got here (Including things well above your standard fair middle age corpse robbing and other things. He was certain Ecthor was a drug dealer despite how much he enjoyed the boisterous warrior’s company.) Hethrir reminded him of Mobuto. He’d met the Congolese dictator several times throughout his life in the service. Dined with him twice, an experience that left him as disgusted as just about anything else. It was that realization that made him regret just how dire the situation was with earth. “I never thought I’d live to be involved in a second cold war.” This time they were the minor nation making the deals with the bigger ideological power and in turn brokering deals with minor nation.

Hammond didn’t like this.

In fact, he hated it.

But paradoxically; he didn’t feel any regret.

Petty Officer O’Neill joined him, silently on the walk looking like she’d just gotten out of a bath as well and he had to remember to put her up for a promotion for this. Last night she fought beside him and earlier Ecthor, she fought like a demon, and she fought to protect not only her Admiral but everyone around her and she did it without flinching. Barely into her twenties, she showed the kind of bravery aspiring officers of his generation had shown but not something that was so common in the Space Force, which existed unofficially since the Reagan years and officially since the Clinton era and had been the butt of every joke until project Giza succeeded. The discipline, the fact that the different service branches used his service as a dumping ground for flunkies to well connected to washout had crippled it for far too long. It was only the looming alien threat that had begun to instill a sense of virtue and tradition in it. -And the other service branches are afraid we’ll eventually render them obsolete or absorb them now and are trying to sandbag us at every turn-. Hammond thought ruefully..traitors, the lot of them and the less said about the near mutinous feud between the CIA and the NID the better. “The war between rats and ferrets” Daniel had called it. He liked Doctor Jackson, he was a scholar and a dweeb but there was fire in him and the heart of a medieval bard. Plus, Hammond was fairly well acquainted with the works of Doctor Nicholas Ballard, they had prompted so many of his early missions into the jungles, or on submarines chasing after lost Russian subs with the intent to board them in the depths, only to find corpses strangled by the dark seeking ruins and legends. It was a damn shame so much of his life would likely remain classified long after he was gone, he could write a whole lot of adventure novels and thrillers off most of the things he did. Maybe he’d put them to paper and audio and let one of his grandkids profit off it in the future? Hayes had suggested he do that.

The Ballard-Jackson theory was going to become one of the most important methods of approaching alien cultures and their own if not the defining method of analytics. The old Admiral knew that much. “Afternoon Admiral, sir.”

“Sandy.” Hammond responded returning her salute. Sometimes he had to remind himself, she was one of his sailors, not one of the army of grandkids he had. Most of the time she never bothered to correct him. “Still sore?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Shoulder feels better after a hot bath..They look, energized today sir.” The younger O’Neill remarked, her eyes scanning the men and women working to rebuild the damaged parts of their town causing the Admiral to laugh slightly. “These people spent four generations at war, their entire economy and way of life revolved around the consequences of that and mining. Those wars ended a little under twenty years ago from what I remember Xoltec saying. These people had to shift their entire way of life to a peaceful commerce kingdom, in our world societies at this level usually descended into periods of anarchy and banditry as Knights without the income of war tended to go on a rampage when they didn’t have family to maintain them. “All in all, Hammond had to admit they made the transition well, but he couldn’t shake the fact that he suspected most of that change came from the fact that those who couldn’t adapt were sent through the gate to tame other worlds, or worse were sent ahead to raid and settle other landmasses here.

Hethrir struck him as someone who exported his social ills as much as he exported Trinium and other precious metals. Which was one of the dozen different things that made him wonder why the old monarch was absolutely thrilled when it was revealed that all they wanted was access to the hall of Hammers and some Trinium. As if he expected a much higher cost or more accurately viewed their coming as a stay of execution. They continued to walk, mostly in silence though they were joined by a detail of guards and a twenty-year-old named Rynulf who he could tell by the tinge in his skin was one of the many progenies of King Hethrir, probably a grandson of the kids he had with those blue aliens. The boy spoke Imperial Standard (Or Space Egyptian as so many of his boys called it.), he was friendly and helpful, nothing like his grandfather. And he was reasonably certain the youth was flirting with his petty officer..Who had just begun to flirt back.

Heaven shield me from the young! Hammond thought with amusement. They were all eventually going to return to the Wyryn but a crowd assembled on the stoop of what he assumed was the manse of some merchant or noble or one of Ecthor’s warriors. There was a hostile tenor to the jeers that the old seal recognized as something that wouldn’t have been out of place in a vigilante mob. The fury, the rage, the sadistic amusement spurned him on and to his shock flecks of fluorescent purple blood spattered onto his wrist and his eyes jerked towards the gap in the center of the crowd.

The creature that stood at the center flinging wildly was squat. If he was five feet he was standing on the tips of his hind flippers (For that’s what they looked like, frogs’ feet.), he had an enormous chin that looked more like a bloated frog’s waddle and his skin was a mottled green with dark green stripes. Purple blood ebbed from wounds that were rapidly closing, and his wide, overly large yellow eyes were clearly pained by the afternoon sun. There was something innately pathetic about the bandit that made Hammond take pity on him, the indignation below the fear suggested that he didn’t even know why he was there in the grander sense not merely a POW. The prince beside his aid spat and told Sandy that (At least as far as Hammond could understand.) these fools were making the poor creature fight in a blood sport for pennies.

No, he was too valuable a resource to be killed for amusement, they needed intel sorely and this was just cruel. His eyes shifted to the prince who gave him a nod and then Hammond stepped forward, Sandra following him dutifully. One of the local toughs was using an improvised machete hacking at the beast who was only parrying most of the thrusts by virtue of slightly superior reflexes. It managed to get a solid hit off with a pathetic wooden club and when the man cocked his arm back preparing to brain the poor alien Hammond grabbed the man’s wrist stopping his movement dead.

The tough turned; hostile gray eyes framed by a youthful face with a beard that was still coming in. A look of surprise replaced the fear as he recognized the elder leader of the Tau’Ri warband. The recognition caused him a second of hesitance, enough that he dropped the blade and seemed to relent. Only to realize his friends were behind him and rather than taking a light rebuke, he opted to act on pride and his throat made a gesture Hammond knew well.

Too many veterans had been spat on by anti-war protestors throughout the decades, too many of his fellow sailors and marines had been disrespected. His grip loosened on the tough’s hand and then the back of his fist slammed into boy’s mouth. The kid had apparently not expected such force to come from an old man because he staggered and fell backwards farther than Hammond expected him to. Two of the guards were on him while Sandra grabbed the chain around the fat frog man’s neck and asked him if he was alright in Imperial Standard.

The creature answered in the affirmative. Hammond turned to the prince “Have him taken to one of your nicer cells. I’ll send one of my marines to interrogate him later in the evening.” It was a lie, he’d probably send Daniel Jackson and Teal’c along with some food to ask him his life story rather than what they believed he’d do. The youth gave a nod and soon the creature was grabbed and yanked along the streets towards the Wyryn. “You think this wasn’t a good decision?”

Sandra shrugged. “Admiral, it’s not my place to question your decisions. But I do wonder if we can trust anything he says.”

Hammond smiled and slapped her arm lightly. “Experience sailor, lots of experience.”

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

…………

Wyryn Castle: Outskirts- Planet Hurot

It was hard to surprise Robert Makepeace of the United States Space Force, Marine division. He’d like to think he’d seen it all in his rather checkered career. From back-alley deals, political assassinations to a good ol’fashion clash between good and evil on alien planets. Makepeace had seen or done it all. Or so he liked to think, working undercover for the NID while also working undercover for Kensey’s faction or at least pretending to (Makepeace still wasn’t sure if he was as bold as Maybourne who was screwing absolutely everyone but Vice President Hayes over for profit. But he knew loyalty to that maniac was not viable long-term.), he even vaguely believed Fraser about her experience with bigfoot because he’d seen something when he was doing an op in the mountains of Pakistan ten years ago.

Very little surprised him, even fighting rape iguanas and their hordes of lust driven, small-brained lizard men didn’t really phase Colonel Makepeace.

What had surprised him, was just how easily Hammond could play the game against corrupt potentates without so much as a comment about the taste in his mouth. Oh sure, the Admiral was a legend in the black ops community, but he also had a reputation as being somewhat of an implacable man with an iron like moral character that was never going to crease no matter who asked him to compromise himself. So, the fact that he could fenagle a vicious warlord turned miserly merchant king had almost made Makepeace burst out into laughter in the Throne Room. Admiral was an interesting man, having been tasked with observing him and his command, scrutinizing his moves to search for a sign of a compromised command so Kensey’s backers would make a futile attempt to remove a man who answered directly to the President in these matters and had his and the Vice President’s undying loyalty wasn’t going to be easily ousted.

Makepeace didn’t care, they were bribing him well enough, an assignment that got him comfortably paid to pretend to be obeying orders was one of the best assignments around. In hindsight, maybe the Admiral’s ability to play the game shouldn’t have been surprising given that Makepeace was starting to adore the old bastard. Speaking of old bastards, the enormous shadow of Teal’c began to look over him as both he and Daniel Jackson joined him by the column Makepeace had been sitting against for the last couple hours. Teal’c was a career officer from what he could understand of his former Government, born and bred, genetically engineered and a member of a race of super soldiers who’d been groomed to run the armed forces of their damn war God since he was a ten-year-old in the early nineteen hundreds. One hundred and twenty-five years old, talk about old and due to his status as a head honcho, a chief of the bean counters Makepeace wanted to hate him.

Problem is Teal’c was the lead from the front type, he enjoyed those guys. But Teal’c being a young man by his species standards explained why he was still alive. With the exception of O’Neill (and he allegedly died once already, then came back younger and healthier the bastard.) and Hammond, Robert knew of no “lead from the front, father to his men asshats” that survived to see middle age.

Jackson was another kind of dumbass, probably one of the smartest people on his or any other planet but dangerously curious and naïve and assumption prone (Makepeace probably would have shot him in sands of Abydos by the end of week one when they didn’t find the Gate address for Earth.), it was another idiot Makepeace should have hated but had come to find amusement of. “Look’n less purple Doc.” Makepeace teased. The allergy prone idiot had gone and drunken mead made from all the exotic flowers on this alien world and then had some river shellfish on an alien world during the celebration and almost died from anaphylaxis if it weren’t for Captain Stacey Spacek, his red headed medic pumping him full of meds. Jackson smiled sheepishly “Yeah, sorry about that sir, it’s never happened on any other alien world but in hindsight.”

Makepeace laughed “In hindsight you dweebs should all sit down with Doctor Fraser and hammer out some kind of dos and don’ts for alien eating and fornicating.”

Teal’c raised an eyebrow though Makepeace could tell it was less because he used a naughty word and more because Teal’c was shocked they still hadn’t done that. “Is that still in committee? I was under the impression that was given priority. Some of the sexually transmitted diseases in the galaxies can be quite atrocious. I know of one that was common on Lotar worlds in Ra’s domain that caused the flesh to fall off the bone.”

Jackson balked and Makepeace howled.

“I would not concern yourself doctor, it was eradicated when I was an adolescent.”

“Was that fifty years ago? Or a hundred?” Makepeace asked despite himself.

Teal’c regarded him with a playful glare before offering Makepeace some mead in a platinum and gold lined drinking horn that was four feet long and almost too heavy for him to drink from. Damn the stuff was good, even if it did leave his throat scratchy. “The Colonel wishes to speak to you regarding a plan of action.”

“Ah, him and Hammond are gonna go with Ramirez’s desire to hunker down here and ware them down huh?”

Teal’c shrugged. He wasn’t keen on the plan because he believed they were missing a key component of how they were able to get armed men here and if they didn’t have a ship or something nearby. “A Scarran dreadnaught could carry some sixty thousand troops, twice that if they were stretched to their limits”

Makepeace whistled.

“I thought Drey’ac destroyed them all?” Daniel asked.

“There were several thousand of them in the Scarran armada, it is possible one fled. Though I do not know how it would end up out here, their faster than light capabilities are rather primitive. It would have taken them decades.” Either way Teal’c thought they were getting reinforcements somehow.

“You don’t think it could be one of them closed Gate network systems?” Makepeace asked.

Teal’c shook his head. “That technology is a jealously guarded secret and very difficult to replicate”. The Tollan proved that. Closer to the Asgard technologically than even the Goa’uld were and yet they still were only cracking that riddle. Besides you needed to know how to make Stargates to do that and the Scarrans were as ignorant about interdimensional physics as the people of Hurot were of the science behind the SGC’s armed drones. “My belief is that a sizable starship is within the system, though how the Scarrans were able to cross the distances is what eludes me.”

Daniel looked like he was going to say something and held his tongue until Makepeace prodded it out of him. “Well, Sam tells me you think this planet was subjected to some kind of orbital bombardment, right?”

Teal’c nodded.

“Well..These guys don’t seem to really want anything from Hurot, aside from stealing women but Ecthor says they just do whatever they want with them and then kill them. They’re not here to take anything. Almost like they’re out for revenge.” He replied sheepishly. “Like they’re just trying to cause as much pain as possible.”

Ohhh! Huh, the kid was right. “I see what you’re saying Danny boy, if they were just out for revenge why not park their fancy death cruiser in orbit then blast the whole planet to smithereens.” Makepeace offered, damn. Why hadn’t he thought of that? It did explain a lot of the absurdity behind the tactics and actions of the prior raid.


Teal’c blinked, disturbed. “You believe the original Gate to this world was found? But then someone would still have to have arrived via ship.”

Daniel nodded. “Right, but they said the day of the Wyryn’s inauguration that there was a meteor storm in the sky. Uncommon, but not unheard of and so they didn’t really pay attention. Maybe a vessel tried to escape through hyperspace and without the proper tech they were just flung through the stars? Oh but…do Gates even work like that? Can you have two gates to a world that aren’t closed Network gates?”

Teal’c nodded. “Though I have not seen it myself, Apollo’s First Prime once told me of an incident in his youth when he and his commander were forced to repel Lucian pirates from a planet and similarly to us, they could not ascertain how they were constantly reinforcing themselves through their orbital defenses. Until they attempted to rotate troops outside of schedule and the Gate would not dial. I believe which ever gate is active defaults to the primary so long as it is active and if the Scarrans knew the regular traffic hours.” He frowned.

This meant virtually anyone could come through, provided the original Gate to this world was not also of Asgardian make with the programming to remove genetic material midstream that was kindred to the Serpent kings. “This is most alarming..”

“If that’s the case then we need to find evidence to corroborate this and soon because if they come again, they might come with reinforcements in numbers we can’t really match.” Makepeace annoyed. They had to take the fight to the lizards in their lair and hopefully bury that gate or something. Else they’d be stuck here and eventually call for reinforcements, a forever war on an alien planet for resources. He had zero interest in another such foreign adventure, especially since he didn’t get rich off the last one.

This was all terribly shaky, of course. They were doing nothing but speculating, but as Daniel Jackson pointed out, speculation done by members of the SGC seemed to count more for prophecy and the Colonel hoped their luck in that area would hold. Around the time they finished running through all arguments for or against the existence of a backup Gate, O’Neill and Ramirez had arrived with servants on wheeled trays with hot chow. Chow in this case being a stew that was made from some local wildlife. Apparently, there were roaming flocks of elephant birds (an extinct species of giant tropical flightless birds from Madagascar.) all over Hurot and many other flightless bird species that the Asgard had either cloned and seeded throughout their domain within the Milky Way or had transplanted off earth in its ancient past.

Teal’c had also said animals and pollen tended to get through the gate and that also lead to the proliferation of certain plants, insect like and rodent like species. Apparently, these guys had their own subspecies of domestic elephant birds, some used for slaughter and others as nine-foot guard dogs. So, this stew, had a mix of beef (Descended from Aurochs according to Doctor Jackson. whatever the hell those were.) and giant bird. Fighting lizardmen, eating stuff straight out of the Flintstones. Maybe he’d be tempted to ask for a permanent posting here if any embassy gets established? It wouldn’t be too bad, plus he could get in on the local action and there were these gigantic antelope that reminded him Eland’s that he saw grazing on the outskirts of the city once.

The Asgardians had populated this world well.

They had settled down to eat when the Admiral joined them and so everyone shot up to salute and met with at ease. Apparently, Hammond had found himself a POW earlier and was planning on having Jackson and Teal’c interrogate him later. They were joined by a youth with slightly blue skin and O’Neill’s less nerdy daughter. Sandra and Sasha weren’t bad to look at and Makepeace didn’t mind Carter either, or Lahm. Truth be told most of the women on the base since all the fatties got purged were lookers as if Hammond and Landry staffed their facilities with models. Of course, Makepeace didn’t fraternize anymore, not since his wife died; not that it stopped him from admiring the aesthetic. Well, he also knew O’Neill would kill him so there was that.

It was when Jackson and Teal’c began discussing the possibility of a parallel gate that O’Neill grumbled about how ‘These damn things were waaayy too much like cosmic telephones”. But Teal’c and Daniel’s observations seemed to make the Admiral think and when Makepeace asked him what it was the old man shrugged.

“Teal’c, you described Unas as large, broad shouldered with more human like face and armored scales, correct?” The Admiral asked, setting aside his bowl and drinking some water with citrus inside. The Admiral had weird tastes for a southerner. Teal’c gave an affirmative and Hammond nodded, considering his words for a second before asking if their eyes reflected light the way nocturnal predators did or the other reptiles and Teal’c shot up, his reaction almost immediate. “They do not…”

Hammond nodded.

“Admiral what did you see.”

“It’s probably nothing, though with the possibility of a secondary Gate. I should mention I thought I saw the leader of the bandits last night during the raid, he looked at me, same way Apophis did when we first met Teal’c.” Hammond’s voice was faraway, intense yet distant and Makepeace couldn’t help but notice however one was hanging on his every damn word.

“What color was the glow of its eyes.” Teal’c asked alarmed.

“Green..Son, it was green.”

Hassaaaccckkkkk Yahata!

The sheer venom and alarm in Teal’cs voice caused Makepeace to raise his eyebrows.

“What?!” O’Neill asked bewildered.

“Yahata? As in The Yahata? As in the Shinto God of war?!”

“That is Apophis’ position within the religion. Though Hachiman of the Japanese religion bares much similarity to Yahata. He never attained the Status of System Lord, he was the First Prime of Izanagi, a Son of Amaterasu and the last Peer to ever take an Unas as a host and the decision was extremely controversial if I remember true.”

“So..we have proof that there’s a backup gate then? One that predates the Asgard otherwise this Yahata would have been killed getting here.” Hammond asked alarmed.

“Indeed, unless he went in the vessel, Daniel believes landed here. But that does not make sense..He is a criminal, wanted all over the known universe.” Teal’c sat back, in thought, bewildered. “We all assumed him dead…” Teal’c murmured. “He was barred from consideration for the elevation to the Status of System Lord for body theft….I cut his left eye out and Bra’tac routed his forces, when he fled back to his command ship Apophis had hit it with a full broadside from his flagship, nothing should be able to survive such an assault…. Entire planets have not survived such an assault.”

“Is that what made him a fugitive?” O’Neill asked and Makepeace was suddenly deeply focused on the conversation, annoyed that O’Neill missed that tiny detail about how Apophis shot this fucker with enough ordinance to pop a planet, but he was still ticking.

Teal’c shook his head. “No, it was the fact that he joined the Titan's rebellion, claiming his family had forsaken their vows and become pawns of the House of Ra.” The Jaffa went into some long-winded explanation about how the house of Ame no whoever…had launched their own rebellion against the Ori around the time that Ouranos and Tartarus had (The fathers of Ra and Apophis respectively.) and that they hadn’t joined the overall rebellion against them until five centuries into the war and had been the most resistant to Ra’s authority as Emperor only joining after Anubis and Prometheus were able to convince Izanagi who had taken over after his father died fighting the other great races that being part of the new order as opposed to a group of outsiders was the best way to ensure his family’s longterm survival. It still took them two thousand more years to finally submit fully to Ra’s authority and then they became his family’s most fanatical supporters until some bullshit where Apophis raped their princess in which case their devotion switched to the civilization they helped build instead or some nonsense. This maniac had apparently convinced almost half their Jaffa to join the rebellion against Ra and the humiliation of the entire family that resulted left them in a state of semi disgrace. Which Makepeace took to mean a crap position politically.

“But why work with a bunch of rape lizards?” O’Neill asked. “Sounds like he’d hate them.”

Teal’c shrugged. “Yahata has been a Roshna addict nearly as long as my species has existed, I believe he may have gone insane, or perhaps he has grown so despondent over his failure to attain vengeance that he has turned to simple vandalism because he feels he has nothing left to him but to seek a death in battle.”

Oh lovely, an insane, thirty-thousand-year-old drug addicted, suicidal terrorist. Makepeace thought, yup absolutely fucking wonderful.

And that still didn’t explain why the hell the damn Scarrans were here!

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

@Harlock @Spartan303 Something rather nefarius is afoot as more of the Scarrans motivations are revealed, Teal'c comes face to face with certain prejudices and Hammond and O'Neill spar about how to handle combat with a peer.

@Knowledgeispower and his deviousness regarding vaporizing Snakes has inspired me.

Naquadah powered drones!

Also we learn a little more about Lotars and their lives within the Imperium. Oh and a flashback that'll tie things together in time.

all credit as always to the glorious artists whose work google provides.

…………….

Castle Wyryn’s Dungeons: Planet Hurot.

“The Admiral said the prisoner was to be placed in a nice cell.” Daniel Jackson rebuked, his eyes narrowing in anger at Ecthor as he spoke in Aejir and then again in Imperial standard, just in case the hulking Captain decided to pretend he had issues understanding. “As was your prince” Jackson added the last bit with more than a hint of fury. Ecthor, the great Neanderthal Viking that he was merely grunted and gave an indifferent shrug. “Cree Danyer, ah’ata rishu’vei’n”

Daniel blinked, was that how he sounded to Teal’c? That was so lazily crafted and guttural it was almost hard to understand. Though from the gist of it, he gathered Ecthor said something like “Peace Daniel, this was not my doing.” Which it clearly wasn’t given that he was glaring murderously at the two guards who suddenly looked like children about to be severely scolded. Ecthor barked a series of orders and they swallowed then bolted out of the room heading towards the exit of the dungeons and towards the chief goaler. Evidently rite of conquest was respected here, and Hammond had claimed the POW from a local criminal and as such legally the prisoner belonged to the commander of the SGC. No one was very happy about that, and Hammond looked visibly disgusted at the thought. Apparently, several of his great-great grandfathers children had been taken as slaves by the Comanche and the same generation had opposed slavery despite being behind the CSA border. To say nothing of all the time the Admiral spent in places of the world where slavery was still legal until recently.

But if it kept the poor frogman from being slaughtered.

The miserable creature was chained to the wall, its arms above its head and it was clearly making noises that sounded like sobbing. On his shoulder was a mark that had been covered by uniform until recently, the mark of Apophis and Daniel instinctively took a step back whereas Teal’c eyebrow raised stepped forward. Breaking the dungeon door open with a grunt of effort and to a barely contained cry of alarm from Ecthor. Teal’c narrowed his eyes and demanded to know the poor creature’s station and duty.

It answered that he was a design and implementation supervisor in the shipyards over Karnak, one of Apophis industrial hubs. He built warships Daniel realized and on listening further was surprised to learn he worked under a bonded Goa’uld of one of the middle races, those that made up the bulk of the members of the technologist guilds. His name was Slys and he was a journeyman in one of the larger Guilds. He said that he had been sent to Ba’al’s realm as part of the treaty between the two great lords and was looking forward to meeting his mate and their spawn in their new lake side home. The creature shook his head ruefully, weaving a tale of woe about how he was captured, on a backwater that he had been convinced to go visit by Gate for an evening meal as it had the best tavern in the sector.

Jackson hadn’t thought of the idea that Stargates might be used to commute for something as simple as a meal, but in hindsight it made sense to a degree, but it was a concept that was going to take some getting used too. Idly Jackson wondered if there had ever been traffic jams at a Gate. This whole tale of woe was guttered out in a way that made it too convincing to be a lie. This poor Slys was apparently pressganged into working for this weird collection of lizardmen. “Sleestaks always like a good fight, many of my people live on worlds under Lucian control, not all of us are blessed to be under the dominion of the Star Gods!” he yelped out weakly. Teal’c nodded and struck his chains with the Excalibur like combat staff that seemed to awe Ecthor who had his suspicions about what the staff was but had no way to confirm it until it just, morphed into a plasma ax and cut through the chains before turning back into a staff. The freaky weapon also elicited a look of shocked focus in the eyes of Slys. “Apophis says you were seduced, but..” he nodded. “I see..I understand why you did it Sir.”

Teal’c gave the barest of nods of acknowledgment before asking if he knew Yahata commanded the legions of reptilians. This caused a look of shame to fall over his face. “No War Master, I had no inclination until I was forced through the Stargate and brought to this world to service their weaponry…which I know not how to do, so they broke my hands and when those healed gave me a pulse pistol and forced me to fight as if I were cannon fodder…I miss my children..”

The poor guy was pathetic, too pathetic to be a spy or a plant or for it to be a lie. Teal’c asked him a few more questions about himself and his career that confirmed it. “But I do know he is using their grief to indulge in his bloodlust.”

“Hyrh’keha?” (Grief?) Daniel asked.

The Frog man nodded animatedly. “Yes, yes, Hethrir and his father before him sold small amounts Naquadah to the Scarrans and Trinium, but they were a far larger provider of the ingredients that go into the oils those barbarians use to fuel their energy weaponry. Protected by Asgardian might, no Scarran dreadnaught would ever come here and so Hethrir, and his kin and the leaders of several other worlds gouged them and the Scarrans were fool enough to think this was an untouchable client and thus it made them allies. Hethrir and these leaders promised them they could send their families here and be granted sanctuary…War Master, when Fleet Captain Drey’ac began her invasion of Scarran space.”

Teal’c shifted and Daniel’s eyes narrowed coming to the same conclusion about where this was going. “But when the Scarran Empire fell they didn’t honor their promise?”

‘No, worse…They did and soon a million Scarran women and children were spread out across four worlds within the protected planets Zone…When the Scarran men returned to Hurot and the other worlds for their kin…they found a battalion of Lucian mercenaries waiting for them. It was treachery…Hethrir and the other Kings had many of them massacred and sold their children and women to Lucian slavers..” Slys groaned. “I cannot believe the Asgardians would tolerate such treachery within their own borders…something terrible must be waylaying them for such a thing to transpire without retribution.”

Ecthor laughed and answered in far better Imperial Standard. “And why would they care? Scarrans are rapists and murderers, pillagers and thieves, brutes driven by lust and greed, and they would be mindless Unas descended mongrels if not for their stupid flower.” He sneered at Slys “And this mad serpent, Yahata! What does he want?”

Teal’c turned and eyed Ecthor coldly. “Scarrans are vermin true, but more fool you for inviting them here then trading their flesh for profit.” He snapped back in Aejir, his voice hard and cold.

“They’re Scarrans!” Ecthor sneared.

“And I along with she who is my wife had already broken their fighting spirit and the defective ones moved in and they are not but Peacekeeper thralls now. What point did their further denigration serve?” Teal’c’s voice was brimming with scorn. “Safe for sating your King’s greed.”

There were times, Daniel thought. When Teal’c sounded like what he imagined William Marshall or Miyamoto Musashi would have sounded like. Or what King Arthur or Achilles brooding in his tent might have. He was every bit what he expected from a spacefaring empire of feudal lords who treated their conquest of the stars as some sort of noblesse oblige. With all the good and bad that came with that sentiment.

Ecthor responded, eyes filled with fury. “And do your former masters not conquer whole civilizations? Entire Galaxies have been fed to their insatiable lust for justice over a slight that happened ere the dawn of our races! Do they not rule as God Kings over countless sentients?!”

“Goa’uld do not make slaves of any within their domain!”

“Then what be that thing in your entrails?!”

The question tore apart Teal’c’s indignant certitude like an armor piercing round through tissue paper. “Lotar…” He began.

Ecthor raised his hand, deciding to be the peacemaker. “Tis, true. My kind are treated well by the serpents, but what they do to their own brothers? If not slavery, then what be it War Master? I and mine only sold foreign flesh. Removing mouths to feed who could not be trusted to work and to serve, wielding the fortune gained to strengthen our people. We did not this to own kin…But that which the Peers visit upon the middle and lower breeds of Goa’uld is a malevolence that goes well beyond mere vengeance nor defense. What manner of monster engineers their own kindred to serve as fuel for their war machine?”

It was not a moment Teal’c was prepared for, to consider the reality that the Prim’tah inside his body, that enhanced his already formidable strength and regenerated his flesh and prolonged his youth for centuries had been mothered by something connected to the Peers in part by blood, as the “lowest” of breeds didn’t have the strength to sustain Jaffa, Daniel knew some of the Jaffa and Goa’uld that were apartheid but not so low on the ladder and some Peers hunted the lower breeds of Goa’uld for sport. Teal’c seldom touched on it, because for a hundred plus years he never had to think about it. It was just, a natural law of society, speaking of the equalist movement (The closest thing the Goa’uld had to a civil rights movement.) as if they were just a bunch of entitled bastards making noise for no reason. It was only on earth, studying and reading human history had he begun to question that. As badly as Ra treated Abydos, their lives were a million times better than some Goa’uld subspecies had it.

Teal’c was sustained by a creature that had been modified, experimented on heavily, whose growth was permanently interrupted, halted at infancy and whose mind was shattered by lobotomy before it was even born. To serve as a steroid pack and immune system for the champions of the Gods. And Daniel stayed silent for long enough for Teal’c to dwell on that a bit before he interjected.

Because he’d be damned before he let a child peddling piece of crap lecture his friend. Speaking in Aejir. “Well, be that as it may…The Jaffa race would go extinct without the…sacrifice of the middle born. I see no comparison between what Hurot did and what the Peers did, beyond a surface parallel. As to Slys, Yarl Ecthor he belongs to the great Admiral who wishes him freed so that he might help us protect you from your own sins.”

…………

Nevada Desert -July 14th, 1956

“Last time I was out here, it was a bombed-out wasteland.” Robert Statterfield the second had been here after the A bomb testing, then again in ’47 when he was called out to a desert hotel to wait on orders that never came. He figured it was about the hubbub over some damned weather balloon (Fat chance! It was probably a field test of sophisticated nuke equipment.), calling an OSS boy from the war out there to run misinformation only for the absurd flying saucer narrative to render his mission moot. Damned annoying, it was too hot then and it’s too hot now.

Robert Statterfield was a Setauket man, descended from Anna Strong on one side and a Colonel Woodes Statterfield who served as a ranger under General Washington. In one form or the other his family had been involved in American espionage since the dawn of the country. Which was why he almost quit in fury when President Truman passed his father over for that effete criminal Dulles as Director of the CIA the whole Statterfield family damn near quit it all. Some, like Bob and his brother were still contemplating creating a new kind of private intelligence agency, a new form of Pinkerton. That was until Ike called him up a week ago and he flew into Washington on an overnight (He loved planes; he didn’t understand his wife’s fear of ‘em!) to meet with the President. A man he served during the war.

-Son, I know you’re all still smarting over the Dulles situation. -

Smarting, hah, the Statterfields built the CIA and funded the damn thing behind the scenes, using their own connections and their affiliation with a particular group. It had been their baby and that damned wheelchair bound drug addict and his successors stole it from them. They were so close to getting it back as well, until last week.

-I’m creating a new intelligence agency, in response to all these..bizarre incidents with flying saucers and allegations of international cabals and a million other things that I can’t trust the FBI or CIA to handle. Nor any existing agency for that matter-

Oh lovely, chasing things right out of the comics and magazines his sons read!

The old smoker sensed his disdain then and laughed “Now, now Bobby, trust me. You won’t want to refuse this National Intelligence directorate post.”

The NID? But why? It was originally an organization founded during the height of the Civil war, there might even still have been an old Union boy or two left alive that participated in its affairs, though bent and hobbled they’d be, if not outright senseless from old age. It had been shutdown slightly before the outbreak of the first world war, rumor had it that they were all about chasing nonsense.. Specters, lost cities in the deepest jungles and riddles in the darker places of the world and the way his grandfather talked about it, just a gigantic waste of money so the useless sons of blue bloods could hold a job and feel special. The thought of being saddled with the second iteration of such a nonsense agency made his damn blood boil. It was only their past relationship that led him to take the files home.

He read them.

He agreed an hour after his hands stopped shaking and the bourbon was in his blood.

Now he was here.

He needed to see it.

He needed to know what he committed his family to.

………………

Castle Wyryn’s Greathall: Planet Hurot. Asgard protected planet’s zone

“We need this mining treaty Jack, and we need the Trinium.” Hammond was being patient, more so than he ordinarily might have been when one of his premier marines, the head of the flagship team of Stargate Command decided to act like a frightened teenager (with the near mutinous indecisiveness to boot!). Though in truth that might have been Why he’d decided to give Jack some latitude. Nothing scared Jack O’Neill, not in the near thirty years he’d known the man had the chiseled jawed, wisecracking marine ever shown hesitancy or fear. Oh, sure he’d made grumbles of “forget that” or opted to shoot someone he might have otherwise gone into CQC with. Jack was a bit of a rogue even by special forces standards but genuine fear? “Teal’c says Yahata isn’t as good as Bra’tac or Herakles or Horus.”

“Ohh great…That means when we drop a redwood on his head, he’ll have to pick it up and throw it at us instead of vaporizing it with a damn flaming laser sword thing!” Jack rolled his eyes, his tone exasperated. Neither man discussed Slys’s revelation about just what Hethrir did to piss off the Scarrans, because the fact that they would once again be working with tremendous scumbags was something neither of them wanted to address for fear of doing something..unfortunate. “Sir, we threw grenades at Birdman…hell we threw a Naquadah enhanced vacuum bomb at him!”

“Only a little one” Carter murmured. “There was like..a salt pinch worth of Naquadah in that thing”

“CARTER NOT THE POINT!” O’Neill snapped.

Hammond rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand. And Syls who’d been listening to Daniel’s translation meekly offered to go to Nineveh and request the aid of Aris Boch who had been hunting Yahata for the better part century any way. Teal’c’s eyes widened both with the eagerness to work with such a legend and to perhaps get a message to his wife, but he reluctantly pointed out that there was no way in hell some random mid-level factory boss would get an audience with the legendary hunter of the stars. Especially when he seemed to be far closer to being the first ever non-Jaffa or Goa’uld bonded First Prime. Hammond set a hand on the Frog man’s shoulder when he saw the dejected look in his eyes. He was the one he felt the most sympathy for outside of the civilians in town, Slys hadn’t signed up for any of this, he was just a regular joe, the intergalactic equivalent of a working man and it was only the fact that his mate also did the same job that Hammond wasn’t worried about his kids going homeless.

It was weird to think about, realizing that he was looking at a man-sized frog alien and thinking of him the same way he used to think about the construction workers and day laborers caught in the middle of whatever cold war era shitstorm he and his team were caught in at that particular moment. But really, once you got below the surface oddities most aliens Hammond had met (That in and of itself was such a bizarre thought.) were no different than most humans. They worked, paid their bills, loved their families and did everything they could to keep the hell away from the giants in the playground. “Tell Slys the only duty he has is to get home to his family and that I’ll be sending him through the gate the moment this conflict is over.”

Something stirred in the frogman’s giant eyes and Hammond turned from him to look at O’Neill. “I read the report, I read what Horus did to you and I wager that the only reason why he took any injury at all was due to the fact that he underestimated you.” And that he was trying to capture them George left out, that was a sore point. He knew just how strong Teal’c was, and he listened to Teal’cs stories from the Titans rebellion, how Herakles, Bra’tac and Horus had carved through hundreds of Jaffa the same way his mountain had nearly been taken from him. He knew Apophis was capable of similar if he felt so inclined and that it took ten to one odds to briefly turn Ra’s security at Abydos, he knew all this but still the old Admiral had committed the sin of dismissing the tales as slight exaggeration. After all much of the known universe worshipped them as living Gods, exaggeration was bound to enter the equation.

And then his best team was only saved by a combination of a Prince’s sense of honor and damn fairy magic. At least he was able to convince Jack just to radio Abydos for some of the new combat drones and a prototype Naquadah enhanced missile. Apparently, Landry’s ‘302 project wasn’t just for aero-space fighters, but he had been working on modified predator drones as part of the Constellation fleet project and Naquadah had given him the leeway he needed for his “hunter-killer project.”, with any luck one of them would be here within twelve hours. Peer or not, a high-altitude RC plane of death was a high-altitude RC plane of death. Jack grumbled something about how he hoped it would be enough and Hammond sat down on one of the immense leather-bound sofas in the great hall.

The prince who had been flirting with O’Neill had come in joined by several of his siblings, apologizing for their great grandfather’s dishonor and asking to join the SG teams on their hunt for the alternate Stargate.

A gate that, Slys was all too happy to divulge the location of and its defenses.

And of course, it was in a blasted cave complex, behind enemy lines in their well-fortified riverside base.

The Beowulf parallels were too much for this old warrior who had no desire to meet death in battle against a Dragon and so he decided to radio Jack and order him to request a bunker buster or two if Landry was able to do anything with the Naquadah enhanced vacuum bombs Carter had thought up.

Fighting a Peer in CQC might have been suicide, but at least he could deny this lunatic reinforcements and hopefully bring down the entire cave network on his head in the interim.

He just hoped that would be enough.

Slaying dragons was something he was too damn old for.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Alright...Alright So I'm writing out a battle but I thought I'd toss out a chapter dump to hold y'all over.

Back in the halls and alleys of our nations Capitol Secretary of State Elizabeth Weir begins the process of reforging old alliances and making new ones.

And on Hurot, Stargate Command prepares to drop yet another atomic device on the head of a snake. @Knowledgeispower @bullethead shall be pleased! Pure carnage is coming up.

@Bear Ribs and @Navarro Too if they're still reading it. Holiday appropriate fireworks be coming.

Also Yahata hypes up his death commandos.

All due to credit to these phenomenal artists whose work I could never hope to duplicate.

…………..

Washington D.C: September 14th

It didn’t take a genius to figure out something was happening within the US, something massive. It didn’t take extensive contacts within IASA and family members on the boards of tech companies that had once been failing but were now surging passed the established firms to know that something other worldly was at the center of it all. The US economy had been growing dramatically since 2017, several prominent tech firms had either been crashed or replaced by new ones selling computers that operated at speeds that were impossible merely a year before that. Compression algorithms and memory, processing power, all these things coming out of small mom and pop firms and then Mitsubishi and Ford releasing cars made of new lightweight metal and far more fuel efficient in 2018. The growth had been, dramatic but it had spread out over half a decade at least which was fairly consistent with past tech booms. China was being muscled out of the computing game which was ideal for Japan and Korea but there had been so much internal strife within the US about the fact that much manufacturing and tech production was returning home that he was concerned there wouldn’t be some kind of cataclysmic shape up in the global economy.

Then a month ago a new Caribbean bank bought up six trillion in US national debt and began offering retirement accounts backed in gold and platinum and crypto that was luring the baby boomers, the last generation of Americans with sizable liquid assets into shifting away from traditional retirement firms and investment hedges. Then the Bank known as the Woodes and Nasau Mercantile Bank and Trust (Because someone had a perverse sense of humor.) sent the world markets into a free fall when it forgave half that debt. That was a deliberate salvo, an act of economic warfare against the old order so brazen that he found himself shocked that the MUFG was in bed with it behind the scenes. Some of the more hostile nations that profited by US debt certainly could have seen it as an act of war. But the question on everyone’s mind was where the hell the money was coming from.

He had an idea; it was a mad idea but when Ambassador Hiroki Matsukata saw that the archaeologist Daniel Jackson was on the board, the absurd became certitude.

Project Giza wasn’t just a success as his government's intelligence agencies and his personal spies insisted despite the impossible, but it was replaced by something more successful still.

There had always been rumors, his great Grandfather ranted about how the Americans unlocked nuclear power before the Empire had because of alien technology (Ignoring that Showa had proscribed the research and development of nuclear power. because his heavenly highness was at heart an environmentalist. And like so many after him, misunderstood the virtue and value nuclear power.) . His grandfather was a firm believer in the Roswell crash conspiracy theories and the rise to prominence of the designated joke of the US armed forces, the space force and its multiple service branches that weren’t branches and the NID all confirmed it. Or at least, that’s what the thirty-one-year old’s father and grandfather insisted. His wife believed it was all just luck, but no country could be so lucky. Also where the hell did all that wealth come from and whoever was wielding it needed to be extremely careful because they could devalue every currency everywhere. They can’t be shipping in wealth from other worlds! The Americans can’t be that reckless…

The fact that none of their traditional allies had been brought in on this, only those countries who had been bored enough to involve themselves in IASA (Minus England anyway.) was mind bending, this was all leading to a disturbing implication.

There was a mission to absolutely flip the world order on its head, as quickly and as decisively as possible and there was a frightening amount of desperation in it all. Why?

Not that Japan wouldn’t benefit immensely, presuming the nations and megacorps about to get phased out of the limelight if not existence didn’t start a world war to keep themselves around. Already several Zaibatsu’s that had been floundering were experiencing breakthroughs in medical and tech research and had been since the 2015 “incident.” But in the last two months they’d been more than just lucky. Things were being laid in place in Tokyo, Deli and in the Silicon Hills that gave him hope, but it was a hope mixed with manic concern. Too much change too radically could cause disaster. On the other hand, if this was just an opening salvo and things cooled for a time, if their allies played it right.

He exhaled, tossing the mini cigar he’d been smoking out the window as his car pulled up to the entrance of the Hay-Adams, a hotel that would only serve as a clandestine meeting location in a cheesy thriller or some tacky “realpolitik” TV-show. Beside him, his body guard a descendent of some Shinsengumi commander or other (they all claimed to be now a days.) Had a look of distrust and consternation as they made their way towards a more personal and hidden lounge where Secretary Elizabeth Weir who sat sipping what he expected was cold tea instead of warm bourbon. She was almost seventeen years his senior, but he admired her looks, few men could avoid becoming withered when they led a life was unusual as Weir’s or had as many children once they exceeded age forty, much less remained as healthy as she did.

As someone whose hair already possessed gray streaks, Hiroki envied the woman, damn her.

She bowed, addressing him as Genro, he wanted to correct her. That had been his great-great Grandfather Prince Masayoshi and that the Genro honorific was not hereditary nor would it be seen with much favor now. But there was something implicative in her inflection that made him suppress a shudder instead. “Kakka, I thank you for responding to my request. I’m aware the state department must keep you busy at present.” Weir bowed her head slightly; she was good at playing the part of someone who honored the old traditions when she needed something done. Not that the term was used often to describe foreign officials of stature, but Weir had certainly earned that respect as far as he was concerned.

“You mean because the President is about to fire half of it?” She asked with a wolfish grin. Hiroki hastily ordered a Buffalo Trace, handing out information like candy? Oh, this was going to be an interesting meeting. Yes, it would be rot gut tonight as the Americans called it. “That would be one of the reasons. Forgive me Kakka but this game the President is playing is most..Perilous”

Silence as the waiter delivered his rot gut.

“Kantai Kessen always was, but the rewards when it succeeded were innumerous weren’t they?” she asked him causing his bodyguard’s eyes to widen slightly. “An economic version isn’t going to be that much different.”

He almost spat out his bourbon. “In..” he cleared his throat “With all deference Kakka the last time my country did that it broke our backs at midway and the time before that it caused a world war and the American version left you bleeding a generation of blood in the middle East.” They were insane, that had to be it.

Yes, the leaders of the United States had gone mad.

And then a report that was brought to his attention about aliens that possessed humans like demons smuggled out of an NID blacksite made him contemplate utter nonsense and filled him with fear.

“Well, we don’t have a choice, much like the second world war, our nation was struck unawares by an enemy who thought he could plunder our soil without repercussion.” Weir responded, but this time she spoke the words in a dialect of Japanese so old that the only reason he knew it at all was due to his upbringing. It took him a second to realize what she meant and his mind wandered back to the report.

No.

She seemed to sense his thinking and leaned back in her chair, hands steepled in her lap. She gave the barest of nods.

No

His chest tightened. She nodded again, subtly.

No

“What have you done…” he whispered.

She took a breath. He knew about project Giza, the Matsukata family was too well connected, too entrenched in the levers of global power and paradoxically capable of asymmetrical thinking that she was certain he knew. So, she spared him the summary that couldn’t be spoken of in such a place. “Colonel O’Neill was right, we didn’t listen, neither of our governments and so someone else came knocking on our door.”

No!

He swallowed. Trying to keep himself calm, they faced an alien menace, and these were the games being played? A dark thought came to his mind unbidden -How many of the barbarian nations that surround Japan would fight, how many would treat with these creatures? - why was he even thinking that. “H..how bad?”

She leaned in “A year from now, an armada of nearly two thousand alien warships will enter our system, their goal will be to initiate a Pearl Harbor style assault on our entire species, then hold out until reinforcements can arrive to establish a Vichy regime.” It took her a few pauses between sentence fragments, as she tried to remember the correct words in this ancient dialect and each pause allowed him to focus on not having a stroke.

NO!

He wanted to jump up, rip his hair, tear off his clothes and run screaming out of the nearest door. “..What are you..doing to prepare for this..eventuality.” His mind screamed impossibility, but he knew no falsehood in her voice.

“Exactly what we’ve been doing. The question, Matsukata-San; is will Japan help us shoulder this burden? Help us prepare our species, help us grow a better world from this looming conflagration.”

A military man can hardly pride himself for smiting a sleeping enemy, it is more a matter of shame for the one who was smitten while asleep. Filled with rage he shall muster a determined counterattack and how we respond will be the test of our power.

Had that been Admiral Yamamoto?

“The President firmly believes that our salvation lies in new alliances with old and new friends alike. Alliances that, he believes should benefit the citizens of those nations first above all others.” She spoke the words calmly, with a level of certitude that was inspiring enough that he imagined had she chosen the military path for service over the diplomats, she would have set in his soul a bonfire of patriotism. But the way she said it made him realize just how opportunistic and ruthless this new America could be.

“Naturally, our entire species will be defended…yes?” It was a risky question, one that probed. But when she retorted with “As much as can be defended.” He understood at once that they Needed help even if they could shoulder the momentary burden alone. Opportunity, they said knocked but once per lifetime, but he knew it knocked all the time only most were too afraid to answer the door for with opportunity often came calamity.

He sighed. “I will need to speak to my government, but…I believe I can convince them of the merits of further discussions and partnerships.” When she nodded in gratitude he hastily added. “But there must be..some concessions. None too larger of course but.”

“When we speak again Hiroki-san.”

It was a dismissal, from anyone else he would have taken it as an insult, but he left and thanked the stars that he didn’t start trembling until he got into the car.

Everything was going to change.

Everything had changed.

………………

Hurot- Asgard protect planet’s zone.

Samantha Carter probably looked like a kid at a toy store on her birthday. Bouncing on one of the vehicles they used to transport their ammo and other supplies. Her straw blonde hair finally looking like something other than a mess as it bounced along with her body. She’d forgotten they packed conditioner until the resident O’Neill twin reminded her and the public baths weren’t that bad. She’d also taken up training in the palace guards’ personal gym with several of the shield women who fought along side Ecthor. Apparently, they were surprised that she was a “Skald” because she was beautiful and physically fit. Carter wasn’t often praised for her looks, mostly because she had one of the biggest brains in the galaxy, but she did model a little as a teenager (Mostly because she tried to find different ways to cope with her depression, until she realized trying to cope with was stupid and she set herself to unfucking her mind.) and one of the things she stressed to Sasha O’Neill and the one thing her grandfather Jacob stressed to her all the time?

A healthy body begets a healthy mind. He was of course, absolutely right, her own despair over her parent’s deaths, the memories of the smell of human flesh, her own inner demons never quite left her but when she was in front of a punching bag or swimming or doing calculations, they weren’t as loud as they were without. She was also reasonably certain she became an adrenaline junky at some point between kindergarten and when she built her first glider at eight and managed to sail the airs for four acres before crashing into a tree line and being bitten several times by an irate rattlesnake.

That had been fun, the venom induced visions had been interesting though. She spoke a little Aejir (Learning by listening to Sandra and Daniel converse between Space Egyptian as the Colonel called it and Aejir) and she spoke Gaelic because she was dared to learn the language once. And amusingly Syggy the Captain of the guards for the redlight district, this twenty-year-old red headed Amazon who managed to cut a Scarrans heart out in battle with a Trinium tipped knife was from a world that seemed to have humans taken from ancient Ireland and England and dumped there. So, she was able to figure out what the girl was saying in Gaelic and since she spoke Imperial standard the two had hit it off.

They were similar, Syggy was a child prodigy with a sword and string instruments whereas Carter was a natural pilot and engineer. Both prized sharp minds and sharper bodies as a method of maintaining mental discipline and both shared a love of making things explode and both were orphans. The slight blotches of burns on Carter’s thigh and her calf had fascinated Syggy who had similar wounds on her forearm from the fight with the Scarran. When she told Syggy how she got those scars, the woman reacted with a mix of respect and amusement. That was different, she’d been the youngest person in space, doing a test flight on a modernized version of the legendary Farscape-1 module that Astronaut John Crichton had disappeared in twenty-one years ago. One designed to take off from a conventional runway and make it into space then do a few aerial moves before reentering orbit.

The mission was a success.

But also, the cockpit caught fire during one of the barrel roles she did in space and Carter had managed to put the fire and then safely bring her down even taking time to park her neatly between her two sisters Farscape-3 and 4. She’d been thirteen, so naturally everyone felt pity that a kid was put in that situation at all. Well at least the ones who had the security clearance to know about what happened.

Idiots, she was thirteen and chosen to do the first combat maneuvers in space specifically because she had helped her grandfather perfect John Crichton’s design, because she was the only one with the reflexes fast enough to do it and because General West was a ruthless bastard and Admiral Ellis had faith in her skills. She didn’t need pity, no other earthborn human save maaaybbbe Crichton himself could have pulled off the entire experiment. Much less stopped a damn fire and brought the vessel down without the AI support that the 302’s would have. She didn’t need pity.

O’Neill and Daniel had reacted with respect, as had Teal’c who praised her for it, that was why she would always be an SG-1 member first and an area 51 mad scientist second. Outside of the Admirals only Syggy had reacted similarly. That made them instant friends, despite one being a warrior and a female Knight and the other being a mad scientist. Prince Rynulf had come with a detachment of twenty armed warriors along with Ecthor and Rynulf’s father Aerwulf (Which sounded more Saxon than Norse and Daniel agreed.) who Carter had learned was the next in line for the throne when old King Hethrir the avaricious died. They had all wanted to see what the mighty soldiers of Tau’Ri were bringing to contest the arms of the Lizard men now.

And so, when the gate opened and out came four members of Evan Lourne’s security team and then three carts containing four-foot missiles and one twelve-footer Carter grinned malevolently.

A Naquadah enhanced vacuum bomb, a prototype, the first of its kind. Weighing only five hundred pounds and made from polymers developed in the nineteen nineties by project Constellation at the Groom Lake facility that still hadn’t released to the general public and tipped with a drill like missile head that was made from the alloy that was being used as armor for the vessels in Constellation’s fleet. Landry had taken her recommendations regarding the vacuum bomb she used against Horus and dialed it up to eleven the devious bastard. -This is going to turn that cave complex into hell- she thought. There were two more compact combat drones, though these had a different weapon system on them, not the crude rail guns that were deployed against the Scarrans and it took her a second to realize they were lasers.

“So, we’ll be field testing energy weapons?” Carter asked.

“Naquadah in the power source, meaning that these drones can sustain aerial combat for forty minutes and about three days before needing a recharge in the air and with the solar panels on the wings.” One of the men answered her.

Right, in theory, forever. O’Neill was making a joke about how they were going up against lizardmen with ray guns of their own but Carter didn’t like it. She didn’t appreciate the rail gun tests either, in the sense that she didn’t want her Colonel and her second favorite Admiral getting shot up by monsters because experimental tech that was a scaled down version of an abandoned system that was made for the 302’s didn’t work or blew up the drones. The third cart contained the command-and-control system for what was coming next.

The warriors of Hurot gasped as a long jet-black bird like machine with wings folded exited the Stargate, towed by a vehicle driven by a base technician who looked like he wanted to turn right around and leave.

The Raptor.

Built on a predator drone’s template she had a sixty foot wingspan instead of the usual forty nine and fueled by a miniature Naquadah generator that could allow it to run for weeks if just doing surveillance work and sixteen hours if in combat (and able to recharge itself with two backup batteries that were themselves slowly recharged by the main powerplant.), a stealth frame designed to block out most forms of sensor tech that Earth knew about (and if the Constellation’s AI wasn’t lying, some sensor tech that it didn’t know about.), she was sleek, armed with one forward mounted energy weapon that looked like it was taken from two Jaffa staff weapons and two of the mini railguns.

This would be their bomber.

The damn lizards wouldn’t know what would hit them.

In the cart beside her Slys was speaking energetically with the Admiral through Daniel. Apparently, the spaceship engineer was impressed, and Carter beamed. When the Admiral told him just who had designed this thing, he hurriedly ran over and shook her hand, nearly rattling her off the cart in his zeal which caused the Wyryn guard to laugh. When it became clear Slys was much a victim as they were, their hostility towards him all but evaporated. They were an interesting people, the cruelty visited on the Scarrans was treachery defined and they could turn that cruelty off and act friendly with an alien the next moment. Evidently, they considered killing Skalds who couldn’t fight back to be the height of dishonor and counterproductive to the objects of any war and so they viewed his debasement and humiliation at the hands of the Scarrans to be a form of dishonorable conduct so profane that Slys would have been offered a place of honor amongst Hethrir’s house had he not so keenly expressed an interest in sticking with the Tau’Ri.

He babbled, guessing aspects of the design she couldn’t confirm or deny but were so close to the mark Carter felt a grudging respect for the foreman. -We should press gang him and send him home to his family after he helps us build up our fleet- she thought and then felt an immediate a swell of guilt over the thought. She’d felt more conflicted of late about her humanity first approach to the stars, but not enough to go soft. All the aliens out here even the human ones had a duty to protect their planets, species and societies, she could be no different.

Arming, loading and calibrating the Raptor would take time and as the technician and the men assigned to the Abydos base departed, Sam Carter sat there wondering if Slys was right about them lacking artillery and any defenses rated for what passed for modern armies on her world.

She hoped so, she didn’t like the idea of SG teams taking losses. She certainly didn’t want a repeat of Avalon where a bunch of aliens out on a recreational hunt slash meeting put more Army Rangers into the ground in five minutes than have died since the wars in the middle East calmed down.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

………………

Hurot- Asgard protected planet zone -September 16th.


Colonel Jack O’Neill really, really wished the Abydos and Earth Gates were the size of those big industrial gates, because what he wanted right now wasn’t a pair of miniature phantom rays, but a pair of B-2 Spirits fully loaded with enough nukes to turn half of Western Europe into glowing glass, because after his fight with Horus he walked away convinced the only proper way to deal with a Peer was how he had dealt with Ra.

By blowing them the fuck up with nuclear weaponry from as far away as scientifically and humanly possible. Jack wanted to be sipping a mojito on another planet while “crude atomics” as the snakes loved to call their most sophisticated explosives were shoved up this Yamaha or whatever the hell his name was ass. Teal’c had tried to reassure him, not all Peers he said; were created equal. That Horus was among the greatest of them and even then, the disparity in power between Horus and say his mother or Ra was as deep as the deepest ocean on Earth. That hadn’t actually reassured Jack at all, in fact it made him want to pick up smoking again. “Yahata is weaker than his parents and grandparents, weaker than Horus and below Herakles”

Yeah, below the snake Teal’c said killed two hundred Jaffa with his bare hands in a single evening. Just below that may as well have been “Can and will make a nice set of leather gloves, a wallet and some belts out of the SG teams.”. Teal’c had laughed and said that he wouldn’t be surprised if Jaffa in barracks told the story of O’Neill the Tau’Ri first prime battling multiple Peers and surviving to boast about it. “Let ‘em keep their stories, so long as I can stay the hell away from those freaky boss snakes.”

It was wild to imagine ever trying to fight Ra directly, Horus hadn’t even been trying to kill them. Looking back on the battle he’d reacted to the realization that he stabbed Daniel with shame and regret and while he did throw Danny’s corpse at him, it was done when Horus realized they were going to try and kill him to avenge Daniel. Jack figured, Horus couldn’t have been more than a little bit stronger than Sek’Het or Teal’c and he had been so damn wrong. So damn wrong that it got his entire team killed. And Deus ex Fairy wasn’t here this time to save their asses and Yahata wouldn’t be trying to capture them, he would be coming at them with everything he had seeking death in battle rather than justice and an ass whoop’n from his mother.

His mother, Jack suppressed a shudder. Teal’c had described Amaterasu was a brooding, sullen, isolationist whose domains were populated by giant apes and mastodons and whales the size of submarines. She was apparently a psionic and could do the same funky stuff with lightning that Amunet could do only y’know more varied and more dangerously because she wasn’t a kid. She apparently saw the future too and her first prime was a big foot. She was also an absolutist about the law and wouldn’t hesitate to have Yeehaw flayed alive, over and over again or some other sort of awful punishment before finally letting him die.

..Yeah okay maybe he felt a little bit of sympathy for Yahoo…If he had a mom like that he’d probably also go psycho bandido on everyone. Granted, Teal’c admitted half of what he knew about the house of Kotoamatsuwhateverthefuck was likely filtered through his own biases since Apophis’ family and the Japanese sounding snakes hated each other because Apophis pulled a Fatty Arbuckle with Amaterasu. But even with his tinted peepers Jack found Teal’c to be a solid judge of character and if the big guy said the mother was even crazier than the son then she probably was.

Major Ramirez and Colonel Makepeace were talking with the Space Vikings through interpreters and Hammond was once again asking Carter if this bunker buster of hers wouldn’t react with any Trinium in the cave system and cause an explosion that could kill them all. She was insisting no, she didn’t even think it would explode the Stargate and Slys had been asked to participate and from what O’Neill could make out, he concurred with Carter, saying the only risk would be if the gate was active which might result in most of the heat and energy of the explosion being pulled into the gate. Which was something he saw occur during an industrial accident once that had mercifully saved his life and the life of his crew. Though it wouldn’t actually damage anyone on the other side, and he was pretty sure the cave in would still bury the gate, just that they would then still have some sixteen hundred Scarrans and four hundred Sleestaks and their dog lizard things to contend with instead of almost none. Amidst all this chatter Jack noted that nope, none of the discussions involved what would happen if yeehaw somehow survived. No one wanted to talk about that! No siree.

Damnit all…

................

…………..

Planet Hurot – Asgard Protected Planet’s Zone.

The Caves of the Dragons

“You are certain of this?” The voice, deep and rasping might have been a muted roar for how it carried across the cavern that had become the Stargate chamber. In the dark eyes glowed, joining the subdued light of the room to reflect shadows on the cave walls. A Scarran cast a long shadow, being tall and mighty creatures that often towered above the mammalian sentients of the cosmos.

Yet the figure that stood above the Scarrans kneeling form utterly dwarfed it, rising out of the darkness like a grim, madness infused tower. A thing, most of the reptilians present were unaccustomed to, ordinarily being a head taller than most Lotar’s and other sentients of the galaxies. An indicator that though the Scarrans were a once mighty race, the Unas from which their race partially traces its ancestry were mightier still and more besides. Yahata, a peer and Goa’uld of the highest pedigree inhabited the body of this Unas and shaped it as he willed it.

A five fingered hand, with armored scutes on each of the knuckle bones rested upon the Scarran’s shoulder, or more precisely encompassing all of it. The long snouted reptile steadied his breath, resisting the urge to indulge in the primal fear that most mammalian sentients felt at his own presence. “Yes, First Prime.” Yahata had snapped the neck of one of their commanders once for referring to his presence as “My Lord Prince.” Even as an exiled criminal, determined to die in battle he maintained the discipline of a soldier. Magnificent.

Death in battle didn’t bother him all that much, though he wanted his vengeance first. There was not else to do but die after he tore Ecthor’s heart from his still living body and ate it in front of him. Maugryn knew that well enough, he returned from the fall of his civilization to find the sanctuary worlds they had paid enormous sums of money and treasure to for the right to live as citizens of their worlds and their cultures amounted to nothing. His wife of twenty cycles was dead, his two eldest sons he’d found their hides tanning on a board outside Haelfdan the tanner’s shop who joked and laughed with his son’s and shown them the art of leather working. His youngest hatchlings were sold by Lucian pirates to who knows where and who knew what. His father had died in battle, his mother thirty cycles earlier had perished from one of Lenea’s horrible bioweapons and his brothers had all fallen when the Dreadnaughts they served aboard were torn apart by Drey’ac’s forces. There was nothing left for him, no home, no country among stars no family.

Only a blood debt and then peace.

He wondered if Anubis would welcome them in the afterlife, the Scarrans weren’t particularly devout, most keeping to their ancestral cults of worshipping nature or the stars and some heretics even copied the Sebacean’s blasphemous subspace cult (Though many of them held that the System Lords were Gods within Subspace as well as the physical realms.) but Maugryn’s family had worshipped Anubis, Izanami and Horus since the Unas ancestors mated with his more primitive reptilian kin and created the first Scarran of his line. He tried to live by the Sodan and Yahata who had the honor of being trained by Anubis some time before the Nameless One’s treachery had once told him that everything in the Imperium went wrong when the great and noble God was struck down.

Maugryn believed that everything went wrong for the universe when that happened. But perhaps, he could be greeted in the realm beyond, perhaps he could die with justice and vengeance in his heart, for his people and be rewarded.

“Every Scarran alive knows the faces of the destroyers, Drey’ac the burner of fleets and her foul mate Teal’c the butcher of Katrazi.”

That had been the only time Teal’c had taken a direct hand in his wife’s war. A prime had been attached to command the troops in the fleet and that had been overkill. It took what amounted to the personal “patrol force” of the Fleet Captain to obliterate the Scarran Empire’s entire military and seldom did they deploy troops. They seemed content to slaughter their way through the fleet and leave the rest of the work and clean up to the thrice condemned Peacekeepers (May the Nameless One claim their souls!) but Katrazi? Their most fortified star base, their most top secret. Infiltrated only once in the past by that damnable Crichton had been the place where Emperor Staleek and his ministers had taken refuge. The War Master of the Imperium had no reason to involve himself, save that there were accusations of an assassination attempt on his person by a Charrid. Perhaps desiring to make an example or to prove to the Galaxies that he was not merely a desk commander, Teal’c came, War Master, First Prime and butcher. He cut through the base, his men overwhelmed the Scarran and Charrid detachments and he slew the emperor personally in a duel that lasted four minutes.

Maugryn gave the order to flee then, and he and his unit departed on a Stryker just as a Hat’ak exited hyperspace. He would never forget the sights, nor the view of a seven hundred dreadnaught strong fleet burning inside the nebula that surrounded the Scarran home system. Teal’c was immortalized in the mind of every living Scarran. Yahata withdrew his hand and walked towards the mouth of the cavern, his shadow obscuring nearly all light. “Then it seems, the cosmos smiles upon us both Maugryn.” His voice seemed to flow from a low rasp into a deep thunderous growl that every Scarran for hundreds of meters within the cave network could hear and in the one violation of the harsh laws that governed the Goa’uld The disgraced First Prime spoke with the compelling voice of the System Lords. An offense punishable by death even amongst the peers.

Ah, yes Teal’c had wronged the mighty warrior as well, humiliated him and led his former lord, the great War God Apophis to victory against the Titan’s forces. Now he was aligned with Tau’Ri terrorists, terrorists were trying to deny his people their revenge.

Behind him, the Unas bonded serpent clenched fists that weren’t quite his and his eyes glowed a dark green. “ It is time, my Scarran progeny, time to launch a final assault upon the accursed Wyryn. Time to break all our enemies at once, time to bathe in their blood and feast on their entrails. It is time to lay the flowers of our hatred on the ruin of their world! It is time to meet Anubis! It is time to liberate the souls of your children! To Regain honor!”

“To the death!”

“Revenge!

“For our mates!”

“Vengeance!”

A thousand, hisses and roars echoed across the darkening sky. It would be tonight; it would be tonight Drones be damned.

……………

Planet Hurot – Outside the Gates of Castle Wyryn

Something about all this was bugging Lieutenant Colonel John James O’Neill and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. No, it wasn’t the damn lizardmen, or that he was about to be the first Space force Marine division Colonel (And the first marine corps Colonel ever.) to deploy not one but two tactical nuclear weapons on a battlefield and on another world. Nah, it wasn’t that or the fact that he was fighting the king shit of lizardmen, a renegade terrorist and damn Peer only a few rungs on the ladder below the guy who stomped a mudhole into his team’s asses while under almost continuous fire. Nah, it was none of that, he couldn’t put his finger on it except that all of this reminded him of his high school days but not English class, not Beowulf something else.

“Are you sure we won’t end up any radiation poisoning from the fall out?” Daniel asked, the history dweeb was doing his level best not to freak out because they were pretty damn close to the cave system now. The huge forest that covered the final six mile stretch between the river and the mouth of their underground base loomed ahead of them. Doc Carter shook her head; she’d been given authorization from Hammond to run at least these things by the Frog man and of course Teal’c and both doubted that there would be any fallout at all beyond the usual debris and ash. Evidently Naquadah was fairly “clean” and tended to merely enhance whatever energy source passed through it. The kind of explosive would determine what was released, without anything radioactive there’d be radiation.

Naquadah was weird and seemed to dance on the laws of physics. Jack appreciated that even if he didn’t understand it.

“We’ll be fine..unless I miscalculated the yield, then we might have to run for our lives from a forest fire.” Carter admitted getting an admonishing Glare from Admiral Hammond. Doctor Jackson and his daughter had watched with excitement alongside the Admiral as the immediate forces around the Wyryn and the full force of the city and palace guard had marched out from to bolster the Stargate teams. Four thousand infantry, two thousand armored men on horseback both light and heavy cavalry though they seemed to realize how useless their horses would be in foliage that thick and were grumbling and presumably complaining about having to walk in or else risk charging into a forest.

Not that it mattered, if this went well nearly everyone on the enemy side would be wiped out and O’Neill could get some of their mead before the treaty was signed and he would have to spend a week babysitting the nerd brigade while they rummaged around in that hall of hammers, they were supposed to gain access to after all was said and done. -Hah, yeah, the guys who the snakes needed ten to one odds on are just gonna let us walk into one of their old weapons depots because some wannabe Edward Longshanks promised us we’d get access- Jack still wasn’t sure how the hell any one believed they’d just be handed a bunch of advanced weapons on a pile. Nothing was ever easy, especially that easy. Which was why a damn Peer was on the side of the damn fucking near bullet proof lizardmen.

Those damn Scarrans took a few rounds to kill even with the next generation weapons and their blood was so hot that if any got on you, you’d end up with third degree burns right quick. Hell, one of Ramirez’s boys had a nasty burn on his wrist that was currently bandaged tighter than a mummy’s ass solely because he got near a flailing Scarran and the steam coming out of his body scalded the kids flesh. Damn Peers...

“Hey big guy.” O’Neill called to Teal’c who had finished discussing something with one of the nobles who brought a hundred armored men who all looked like they took a bunch of Angel Dust before setting off on the march. When Teal’c approached and nodded his bald head, O’Neill offered him a nestle crunch bar which the man took readily and handed him a Twix.

It was a little ritual they had.

“Lemme ask you a question, you said without resurrection chambers a snake could keep an average body alive for maybe five hundred years, right?”

“That is correct O’Neill.” Teal’c answered with his usual stoic tone, it impressed Jack how well the big guy could restrain himself. At his relative age (With a Jaffa lifespan he assumed a hundred and twenty-five was closer to twenty-five in human years.) Jack would have been prowling around the camp itching for a fight, ready to go in there and shoot up some lizardmen.

“Then how come this Yeehaw guy isn’t dead?”

Teal’c raised an eyebrow, his version of a belch of laughter Jack was coming to realize. “As I have said those Goa’uld born Peers are biologically immortal. They do not age and their control over their host bodies and regenerative powers are such that they can triple that time.”

“Right but thirty thousand plus years?”

More so, Teal’c thought. Yahata was born when Amaterasu was only two hundred years old, that was before the dawn of the Jaffa and Sebacean races. “Unas have a natural lifespan of near two thousand years, they have formidable regenerative powers and seem to be almost..designed to be hosts.” Teal’c paused before adding. “And those born as Peers are the only ones granted the right to use of the resurrection chambers from maturity, Yahata’s has never been subjected to the ravages of time, neither would his host.”

“Great, so it’s not like we can rely on his lizard suit to be slow or old or at the end of its rope?” O’Neill asked.

“Indeed, though if he has been without Roshna all this time he may be going through withdrawal, it is the only narcotic that I know of that Peers can experience difficulty adapting their system to become immune to. It is possible he is somewhat weakened, but also quite insane as the withdrawal process from Roshna often leaves addicts in a prolonged state of insanity.” Adding after an uncomfortably long pause. “And I do not know what a century of Roshna abuse would do the neurochemistry of a peer without a resurrection chamber to flush it out. No one does..”

Wonderful, Jack thought.

-Please let us pancake the snake druggie in the blast, or this is gonna end up like the Teutoburg forest Lizardman edition-

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Alright boys and girls the final battle commences.

And we get an aerial battle and a strategic bombing from the POV of a medieval noble.

Also Carter does what Carter does.

Hope this doesn't suck, nor the coming conclusion.

…………

Planet Hurot - The battle of Red River PT -I

Of course, the skies around their little army would begin cloud in those odd map painting like swirls that reminded Robert Makepeace so much of fantasy movies from the nineteen eighties. Of course, lightning would begin to spark along said spirals and distant thunder would presage the looming battle. Here he stood, waiting with his team and SG-6 who was sitting inside a makeshift barrier where the command system for the combat drones was set up, waiting for Doc Carter to arrive to take over the Raptor which was now courtesy of new AI flying around taking photos of the lands around the Wyryn and atmospheric readings, waiting for a pilot to guide it towards battle.

This was like something out of the old movies he’d watch as a kid, meeting up with friends after football practice and heading out for pizza and cheap flicks at a dollar theatre. Or to one of their parents houses to watch crap on cable, the 90’s were an era where you had to entertain yourself as much as anything. He was here surrounded by an armed escort, a team of archers led by that Gaelic speaking alien who wielded bows made out of bones that looked like ivory etched with steel from some weird alien whale and trinium tipped arrows and steel “threads” and next to them were four armored Viking like Knights on fucking tapirs and another hundred generic warriors. He was fighting next to space knights, on planet Valhalla for the right to obtain a special metal and fucking ancient relics, he was living the kind of movies he and Colonel O’Neill likely watched as kids and now to advance the interests (Namely survival.) of the US Government on another planet. Colonel Robert Makepeace and his SG team would be the only thing besides a bunch of primitives standing between his dweebs and slaughter once they realized their one means of reinforce got buried into part of a mountainside.

That was when Doctor Carter came from the front of the army and nodded in deference to him and slapped the Celtic alien on the shoulder before she hopped over the makeshift barricade erected around their consoles.

Behind them a cavalry group led by Ecthor and containing a gray bearded human who Makepeace recognized as one of the many sons of Hethrir, long faced and grim who was cloaked in pelts of some kind of big cat and riding one of those Tapir descended mounts because of course he was. He might have been there to officially command the army but it was clear the whole force assembled was taking orders either from the semi blue skinned little shit who was flirting with Jack’s daughter earlier or ecthor.

Great, a damn divided command structure.

Prince Long Face looked to Ecthor and then out to Admiral Hammond who was out in front with O’Neill (And really should have been in the rear at his age, his rank and SOP dictated.) Hammond nodded, blue bastard nodded and Ecthor turned and let out a roar that sounded like he was insulting half the universe, and everyone erupted in cheers, banging pikes and lances to shields or axes to shields or armor, even some of the Stargate teams were cheering... Hell Makepeace wanted to cheer. There was something infectious about the half-crazed intensity of the man’s shout that made you wanna toss your guns aside, pick up some axes and go to work the old way.

He remembered a history lesson from an old Colonel he served under, who said he thought fighting in the Middle Ages must have been an unholy mix of tank warfare and one gigantic, highly disciplined, well-organized riot. Where both sides smashed into each other like tsunami’s then withdrew and danced and feinted and did it again all while trying to avoid being runover by draft horses in armor ridden by bastards who could turn you and four of your friends into a kebab on a stick. Makepeace remembered him saying that it must been more terrifying than modern war in some respects and more intoxicating (which he ascribed as a bad thing.) which probably was why those battles could when carried on beyond a certain point devolve into an orgy of carnage.

As Carter announced that she was ready, Robert Makepeace preyed that wouldn’t happen here.

…….

They were a sanctimonious people, Ecthor thought. Knowing what the Scarrans were and still decrying their slaughter. Yet they were a people who had won not only the respect of one of the greatest warriors in the universe but an honored enemy of his God Thor and from what he understood of Thor’s edict, not only the Thunder God’s respect but even the mighty princess of the Aos Si herself seemed to take a personal liking to the heroes of this Essgee wun. They were still fools, but Ecthor understood Hethrir’s willingness to do business with them, one would have to be an even greater fool to sneer at a people who despite being as primitive as his people were to them by the standards of the System Lords of the Imperium of the Goa’uld (the Gods who had been the bitterest of foes to his Gods for so long that they won the recognition of his Gods.) and yet still slew Amun-Ra the King of those Foe-Gods and master of much of the stars and fought Prince Horus one of Thor’s greatest rivals well enough to win freedom and to have humiliated the mighty and hated Apophis not once but twice!

No, only a fool would dismiss such a people.

And when the heavens lit up with lightning and the spiraling skies, he knew that which these newcomers with all their science did not. That the God of Thunder, of wind, of travel, of military might and conquest himself had come to witness the battle. These people were as the Elves of old, as the Aos Si, heralds that presaged great tests and great change, change that wasn’t always for the better. His hands gripped on his ax handles; eyes narrowed into the horizon as faint dots in the sky began to move forward.

He knew of high technology societies, but he had never witnessed the forces of two distinct high technology societies at disparate levels face each other. He knew that the Scarrans were the most feared military power of their galaxies among the “lesser advanced space faring races” whatever that meant and that they were seen as the second power beside the Serpent kings. The forces of the System Lords had fought his Gods for tens of thousands of years, fought them so hard they forced a superior race to the peace table. These Scarrans were terrifying, but he knew the status they enjoyed was pure nonsense and to the surprise of no one within the realm of the Aesir and Vanir the Serpents rolled them over as swiftly as Ecthor had run through those rebellious farmers in the last Island they had conquered at the end of the war.

Like threshing grain stocks. And so, these broken barbarians would now face an enemy that was their inferior for all intents and purposes and with little technology to aid them but that little technology should be sufficient should it not? Ecthor smiled savagely as a thunderous series of pulses erupted from the river beyond the forest and bright orange-red balls of fire shot into the air. What little Artillery they had managed to construct since they learned of the Drones was dangerous enough one of the six lights in the sky blinked out. Ecthor smiled, Judge us! The chosen of the true Gods! Tau’Ri fools!

The other fire lights began to dance, spinning and weaving, moving with a shocking abruptness and he whirred around on his mount to look back at the unimpressive pair of Skald warriors focusing intensely on their little boxes that projected images (He knew of the technical term for such devices from the more advanced worlds they did business with, but he couldn’t be bothered to remember it.) was that the nature of “modern warfare”? Some scrawny runs who desperately needed to fornicate more playing with toys and obliterating enemies’ miles away? -Mistress Sif take my soul before that nonsense infects my world. I do not wish to live to see war fought with such sterility! –

Still, it was impressive, how they bobbed, they weaved, swarming like so many ants and then let loose a terrible roar of its own. One that even from this distance spooked the horses and caused mutters of alarm and Ecthor cursed. “FOOLS! You all know what a firearm is! And what they sound like! Do not act like a bunch of gawking wildmen shouting babble about firesticks!” idiots! There was honor to maintain here and face to be saved!

There was a laugh from behind him, evidently one of the Skalds shredded the accursed reptiles who were manning one of the guns for it fell silent for a moment. They resumed but Ecthor couldn’t help but catch the malevolent grin on the face of the pretty blonde Skald, the demon Kar’Tur as the Jaffa called her. Evidently that pause was enough for her to figure something out and a moment later, from high above the smaller vessels who continued to belch out a sound that to Ecthor’s ears sounded less like the muzzle blast of a musket or a more advanced gun and more like the rapid and sequential striking of a very loud hammer a series of bright green pulses ripped down from the heavens.

There was silence.

And then an explosion of dark crimson flame and the stench of chemical burns filled the air as debris rained down onto the forest and Ecthor’s eyes narrowed. The crazy woman had hit one of the munitions cannisters for their artillery! The damnable oil those stupid lizards used as their ammunition was notoriously combustible if hit with the right amount of energy! And that could easily have spread to the waters, miles of stream and potentially forest could be on fire within moments!

There was silence again, the guns stopped and yet the wasps of the Tau’Ri did not cease their onslaught, red lights and that atrocious hammering occasionally danced in the skies and Scouts were likely being treated to a great many Scarrans bursting from bullets or being sliced in half by what he expected was some kind of light weapon (A Government they did business with bought many precious gems as they apparently were needed to focus those light weapons. Though those people used them for mining and medicine.), but nothing he’d seen yet could have prepared him for what was to come.

Eventually, two of the Scarrans long guns began to light up the skies again.

Two more of the Wasps vanished.

And then Kar’Tur proved why the finest soldiers in the universe considered her a mad skald. Because she whispered “bahms awai” in her odd language with a grin that utterly unnerved him.

All was silent, the Wasps lingered distracting, he supposed their furious fire.

Then something changed, the air grew dry and stale, tasting metallic and the skies above roared with lightning.

Then something exploded.

No, explosions didn’t make such a noise.

The horses screamed bloody murder, their eyes wild with terror, the other mounts who were so predominant on their world bucked, their long noses bouncing all over the place. Explosions didn’t break the very concept of sound, they didn’t roar so loud you lost your hearing for what felt like an eternity. They didn’t send the men at the front back nor cause trees that stood forty feet in height to sway like saplings in a windstorm nor did they create a gout of fire that ripped into the heavens like volcano spewing Surt’s (Whom the serpents called Ouranos, father of Amun-Ra) rage against Thor for the war made upon his children. Lightning lashed out at the immense column of fire which seemed to convert into a huge mushroom like plume of smoke that mingled with the great lightning storm above.

The one called Makepeace rounded on the mad Skald when his senses recovered, roaring at her and presumably damning her madness.

The army nearly broke.

He was certain the league of Lizards was not but ash.

Surely after such a horrific explosion!

But he couldn’t focus on that, the bald one Hammond of Texas and O’Neill Godslayer were rushing towards the barricade eyes burning with questions and remonstrations and he and the princeling had to restore order.

The Princeling for his useless uncle who had once been the air seemed to have bolted away from camp when the battle started and abandoned what was supposed to be his army.

This was pure insanity, but the thunder in the heavens only grew as did the increase of the spiraling clouds.

Thor Odinson it seemed, approved of their madness.

It had to be over, this madness had to be over.

A violent wave of wind hit the army in that moment, several hundred men up in the front were thrown onto their backsides but others held. His Scouts were surely dead and in the chaos of trying to keep his army together Ecthor almost didn’t see the hundreds of birds, flightless and winged and of the beasts of the forest bolting in terror out from the woods.

But he did hear the wails.

The inhuman, utterly alien cries from where the Lizardmen had made their fortress, from where the vile reptiles had been kissed with Tau’Ri fire and madness.

Some had lived.

Worse, some infernal beeping confirmed whatever the maniac Kar’Tur was babbling to the two leaders and then the raven-haired daughter of the blond one. The God slayer ran over to him and told him in accented Serpent speech that it there was no “fire poison” (She likely meant radiation) idiot girl-child! He knew what radiation and chemical poisoning was and what it could do to a person, anyone who conducted business with societies on the verge of colonizing worlds outside the Gate Network within their own solar systems knew of those things. “I’m not a savage woman!” he hissed and then paused.

They were not entirely certain that they hadn’t used an atomic on the Scarrans!

Madness!

“Your kind is new to weaponizing Naquadah.” He whispered in horror.

She nodded.

Had she not been the offspring of the God killer and had it not been dishonorable to slay a herald of an ally in battle even for impudence, Ecthor would have opened her throat on the spot.

Damn these Tau’Ri! They are insane, they are daemons! This is madness!

The tradesmen more experienced in commerce with advanced societies amongst the ranking officers began panicking asking if their sensors were absolutely certain. Realizing then what these felons had just done. And what enraged Ecthor more was that most of them were impressed and praising them! Damn these credulous buffoons! “We must hold!” he shouted. “This is not yet over!”

But did they get the leader of the vermin? When news of his identity was broken by Hammond of Texas in the war council, Ecthor wanted to feign injury and run to his island estates three days by sea from here. King Hethrir had forbidden any from speaking of him less the army refuse to march and the God Killer and Teal’c had insisted that they would endeavor to remove the lead in the first strike.

But if Yahata lived?

A terrible thought came unbidden into his mind.

They had just struck a blood mad Peer dishonorably.

If he lived…How would he respond?

Ecthor knew, there was only one choice in that moment.

To stay and fight.

Because there was nowhere to run and no ocean too deep, nor fortress too strong to safeguard him from the Wrath of one born to the blood of the Gods.

Nowhere.

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Alright gents, happy 4th of July. In honor of independence day. I Present to you, the second part of the epic conclusion to Thor's chariot.

@Spartan303 This one's for you buddy! And for @bullethead Because good ol fashioned firearms don't get enough love in sci fi.

Asgard Protected Planet's Zone Hurot-Battle of the Red River PT-II

Ecthor and Rynulf had ordered that they hold, the Tau’Ri gave the same order and held they did, as the skies blackened and the earth and dust shot into the sky began to spread across the horizon, dispersing with the violence of the firestorm that gave it monstrous life. Above the expanding cloud, lightning roared and the inhuman hollering that had at first sounded like the cries of despair of the dead and dying now swelled into something more violent in its frenzy and it became clear that while a sizable portion of the lizards had been buried or incinerated by the Skald’s mad bomb, that at the very least several hundred had survived.

They had departed slightly before the aerial battle; it would later be determined. Marching across the roaring river on their makeshift bridges and crossing into the forest several miles from the main road leading into the Wyryn. Caught in the explosion, a wave of heat, steam and debris had been hurled by the shockwave (which had decapitated several dozens of them from the kinetic energy alone.) smashed into the group, cutting a force of one thousand Sleestak and Slytharians and six hundred Scarran down to fifty Sleestak, two hundred Slytharians and four hundred Scarran.

It had taken them time to pull themselves up from the rubble, the Slytharians had risen first. Being the ones who healed the fastest and the frog men promptly ran screaming for their lives., Bellowing inhuman cantos of sheer terror until they breached the tree line and were pelted by a thousand arrows from archers and fire from the Tau’Ri. Until Daniel realized they were screaming surrender in Imperial Standard, surrender that Prince Aerwulf who commanded the forward line alongside O’Neill was in no mood to accept. He kicked his horse, his group of heavy cavalry charged into the frightened, still healing lizardmen and began to slaughter them.

They were running them down, running them over. Dozens scattered, twenty or so were butchered like vermin and Colonel O’Neill came very close to shooting the prince in the back to put a stop to the slaughter. But before he could, the bruised and battered Scarrans came out, rushing forward with frenzied glowing eyes and blood covered mouths. Aerwulf tried to rally, but a Scarran hurled a boulder the size of a man’s torso at him. The blow impacting the prince’s mount square in its chest. The beast heaved, blood erupted from his nose and spun backwards falling forward crashing into one of those giant tapirs in armor, knocking down mounts and riders. Aerwulf hadn’t made it to the pile of corpses however, being launched through the air by the suddenness of the impact the man fell face first into grass, his form twisting and bending backwards unnaturally.

Prince Rynulf screamed for his father and was grabbed by Ramirez who pinned the boy to the dirt as Jackson beckoned the Slytharians forward. The madness of their commander ending with him, the rest of the cavalry ran for their lives rushing back to the line and even making a path for the surrendering frogmen. Members of SG-6 and Petty Officer O’Neill opened fire in that moment trying to turn the Scarrans who just didn’t care.

They knew they were dead reptiles. Several died but others managed to get to the warriors of Hurot and they launched into that battle with mad fury. Four Scarrans had stopped at the body of Aerwulf and began to rip his armor off until one of the smooth faced ones ordered them off, at which point he grabbed the Prince’s head and twisted it off, hurling it towards the O’Neill’s and Rynulf and bellowing a challenge.

The Prince slithered out from Ramirez, who simply pushed the boy aside and ran towards the Scarrans. Firing at them with the weapons of the Tau’Ri that were quickly becoming the bane of every advanced civilization that forgot that cardinal rule.

Energy weaponry might have been less costly from a logistics standpoint and more advanced, but that didn’t mean good old fashioned metal slugs hurled at sufficient enough velocities weren’t capable of doing just as much damage and in the case of Scarrans who had evolved to be extremely resistant to heat and thus had natural armor against a lot of the energy weaponry used by the Galaxies at large…had no real protection for bullets.

A bullet caught a long snouted Scarran straight in the nostril.

It’s entire snout split from nose to jawline, brains erupted from the back of its head and to complete the grizzled visage of a flesh canoe teeth and skull fragments slid around the wound as he crumbled. Rynulf lunged at the lead Scarran who had rounded in time to begin blasting Ramirez with heat projected from the hand. The boy plunged a Trinium tipped spear into its side, aiming for what he thought was a kidney, only for it to have been the heat gland itself. The commander howled in pain and swung, smashing the prince in the head with a balled fist as SG-6’s commander opened his chest with a discarded battle ax before rounding and firing on the remaining Scarrans.

Together they carried off his father’s body, under cover fire from SG-1 and SG-6.

“Get Daniel to the back with Carter and Eco or whatever the hell the commander’s name is” Jack muttered to his daughter who looked like she wanted to protest but O’Neill shook his head. “No, get the hell out of the front, these guys are coming through like lunatics and the army’s discipline is breaking, this is going to be a bloodbath, get out and I’ll get the Admiral and whatever Prince is left alive out..We’ll be right behind you.”

“Form a stable cadre at the rear? Rally from there?” She asked, sensing her father’s plan.

Jack nodded. Much as he was terrified of losing another child, much as he resented himself for not just shooting West when he found out he’d approached his daughter’s with offers of a lifetime. Much as he resented Hammond for the crime of looking after them (which was stupid.) She’d been the only rookie in any of the teams who didn’t walk away bloodied from the last engagement, only bruised. More than that, she defended her Admiral to the best of her abilities and her abilities..he was reluctant to admit were as good as his were at her age. “You’re a damn fine sailor.” O’Neill added eliciting a tearful salute from his kid before she grabbed his nerd by the scruff of his collar and joined Ramirez and Rynulf in falling back.

To his credit the prince managed to issue a final command to the warriors who hadn’t mentally snapped and were just bum rushing the Scarrans and the other lizard people and engaging physically superior foes in what looked like the most schizophrenic brawl he’d seen since that mosh pit turned abortive revolution in Belarus back in ’96. He wasn’t sure what the kid had said though, or at least he wasn’t sure until one of the commanders walked up to the Admiral and snapped at attention doing his best to mimic the Salute the SG teams gave Hammond. Evidently, they’d been left in command of this mess.

It started to rain, Hammond’s eyes burned, and he made a few gestures. “We Advance backwards, slowly damnit! Forget the guys out in front, they’ve lost their minds son!” He grabbed a breast plate. “Get your guys under control and move back, let them take ground, let them run themselves ragged they’re half dead already! We get to the back; we kill them all!”

Sometimes, you didn’t need to speak the same language. Sometimes presence and tone were enough. The man nodded grimly and turned and began barking orders at the other commanders who managed to regain control of about five hundred members of the Wyryn guard and the other militias. They began to form rank and organized and under control of a pair of calm commanders, they stopped dying like flies and managed to start slaughtering the Sleestaks and venomous lizards.

Behind them Teal’c was rallying the archers and they were raining hell down on any of the scaled bastards that made it out of the gigantic slaughterfest and brawl between enraged space Vikings and suicidally furious lizardmen. A dozen were cut down, while at least a hundred others were taking wounds that, if not fatal would at least slow them down.

Still, swords were no match for Scarran hide unless made of Trinium and they were slowly slaughtering their way through and managing to inch closer and closer to the retreating band.

It was interesting, if Jack O’Neill wasn’t fighting for his life, he might have stopped to bask in the ego trip this gigantic mess was. Unlike Teal’c he never commanded an army, though like Hammond he helped train up special forces’ teams in allied countries. But the respect this marshal culture held for him, for the Admiral and for Teal’c was a hell of a confidence booster. They were despairing for a second before they were able to figure out just who the baton of command had passed too and then he saw in their eyes. Each and every Viking looked like they were ten feet taller and a hundred times stronger. O’Neill, killer of Ra, Teal’c the youngest First Prime in history, a master of war and mighty Hammond of Texas who commanded them all. Who could defeat a force even if it was a remnant that had such commanders? This was pretty fucking awesome.

It also felt weirdly familiar, and he couldn’t quite shake it. But he knew this. It was as if it was something he had relived a hundred times in his head, thinking less and acting more on instinct.

He knew this.



A book he read as a boy, yeah, one of the few books that really drew him in and made him reread it until the pages were worn thin. He’d been here before, fought this battle before if not in reality in his dreams.

A book, yeah that was it! That was it!

And then a roar so loud it deafened the thunder broke his train of thought. A roar that wasn’t just one voice, but a chorus of voices, all of them torn, agonized and driven by a hatred that was older than his civilization. Primal, bestial and utterly unhinged and O’Neill recognized that chorus.

All fighting stopped.

Thousands of men, hundreds of lizards all frozen in place like frightened children with the bloodlust just, ripped out of their minds by those cries that seemed to penetrate their very souls. Even the animals which were scattering to and frow trying to avoid being killed by a stray arrow or stabbed by an errant sword or lance or ax all froze.

And then O’Neill saw it.

Ten feet tall, with shoulders and a chest that looked like the front of a firetruck. Five long talons on each hand, glowing green eyes, armored scutes covering knuckles and other vitals, horns protruding above the forehead. Green florescent blood trickled out from hundreds of hideous gouges where molted debris had burned into the skin and flesh and was now being pushed out by healing tissue. Scales and scutes flaked off, replaced rapidly by new tissue but in other places, fluids oozed from muscle that had been charred and was being consumed by the body as it regrew new flesh. Half the flesh and scales from the left side of its face were gone, revealing exposed bone and teeth that gnashed in fury and a forked tongue that flickered angrily even as the flesh repaired itself.

He held in his right hand what looked like a gigantic halberd that must have been fifteen feet tall and must have weighed several hundred pounds if not more.

He swung it.

Space Viking, Scarran…it didn’t matter.

Ten people were cut in half and their parts flew through the air launching dozens of feet overheard.

Someone, one of the heavier armored warriors of the Wyryn guard ran towards him and thew a spear. The giant lizard king battered it aside and crushed the man’s skull, helmet and all with a hand larger than his torso and as he licked up the blood, he pointed his weapon forward.

“TEEAALLL’C! ON’YEERR! HAMMUN! KREE’HO’MYR SHAKA! KEEKAI! KAAAAIII!!!!”

Heel! Step forward you cowards, come to me, come out and die!

-Well Jack, at least he’s not Horus…- Yeah, just keep telling yourself that…

Teal’c stepped forward. His eyes narrowed “YAHATA-SHOLVA! KREE! KREEE! KAAAI!”

So the big bastard called them names and told them to come out and die, that was to be expected from a lunatic that looked like he just survived an entire mountain falling on his head and came out with both his brains damaged. Plus it was par for the course for a druggie to run his mouth.

What possessed big guy to respond by calling Yeehaw a traitor who should kill himself to avoid dishonoring us by having to do the job for him. Jack O'Neill would never know.

But they were officially in it now.

And we were doing so well, for once!

 

[The Immortal Watch Dog]

Alright boys and girls, I am terribly sorry for how long this took, I intended to have this done on July fifth at the earliest and then stuff happened and then I caught the coof and I've written most of this up while in recovery so if it completely sucks I'm terribly sorry.

Any way without further adieu, the conclusion to the monster fight!

Asgard Protected Planet's Zone Hurot-Battle of the Red River Conclusion

Hachiman

Colonel Jack O’Neill was a special kind of marine, in his youth he’d been a hot head who would have picked a fight with anyone for any reason so long as it didn’t land him in the brig right before deployment. He loved, fought, drank and swore with the kind of cavalier nature typical of the Marine Corps’ reputation. He lived up to that reputation in battle, as well. Fearless as he was irreverent, and he wasn’t stupid like so many of his former unit mates, he was a clever, cagey operative. As Admiral Hammond watched the boy grow into a man, that nature was tempered by wisdom and made even more deadly and though Jack O’Neill concealed all that behind the façade of a meathead Hammond knew below the hyperbole, sarcasm, mistrust of authority and incessant need to assign nicknames to everyone that his word was good as gold to anyone he considered a friend.

So, when O’Neill had returned from Avalon talking about just how deadly the leader species of the Goa’uld were, Hammond had been one of the few members of the Space Force’s upper echelons to take him completely seriously. He’d taken Jack at his word while others assumed he was exaggerating the extent of just how deadly they were (After all, no one just took that much abuse and kept fighting, life wasn’t a comic book.) except that Hammond watched Teal’c spar with the men and women under his command. He remembered the bodies strewn about from repelling Apophis and his security detail. He knew enough to know that they were living an epic to not be skeptical.

A good skipper after all; listened to his crew.

And armed with all of that, Hammond still couldn’t believe what he was witnessing with his own eyes. They had essentially tac nuked this Yahata guy, dropped an entire hill on his head and burned what looked like thirty percent of the scales and scutes off his body. Hell, they had carbonized some of the damn muscle off his body and yet this damn snake in the body of a giant lizard man was killing six to twelve Aejiri (Or however they called themselves.) with every swing of his halberd like weapon that was more like the blade of an industrial fan sharpened and attached to a support beam. He raked the blade, killed more only to be pelted with arrows, falling on him in a similar manner to how he imagined ancient Romans took down war elephants. In the modern Shinto religion Yahata, now named Hachiman was a God of war, of carnage, of strategy and battle.

He didn’t see much strategy, but everything else, every bit the type of being he could see the ancient caveman ancestors of the people who migrated to Japan confuse for a God. Time for thinking was over though and the old frogman pulled out his rifle and unleashed a flurry of bullets firing up and towards the creature’s center of mass just as green flames from Teal’c staff weapon smashed into its shoulder. The Archer’s behind him were firing like crazy and Space Vikings as O’Neill called them were crawling up the things back, stabbing it anywhere they could only to be grabbed and tossed dozens of feet into the air where they smashed into Scarran, Sleestak and human descended alien alike. Above them, he heard several of the smaller prototype drones and he wondered just how much ammo they had left.

His question was answered when one of the remaining drones that didn’t come with laser weaponry turned upwards, then spun and immediately dove to a concentration of Scarrans who had finished slaughtering their opponents and were preparing to move against Teal’c and the squadron of archers he had taken command of. Spinning it smashed into a smooth faced Scarran like a meteor exploding in a mess of flesh, heated blood, propeller blades, molten plastics and metal and flaming batteries and then finally the Naquadah generator all went up.

A miniature geyser of fire lit up the night sky and a dozen of those lizards were dead, two dozen others were mangled and leaking their unnatural body heat into the air as they writhed on the blood covered ground. Carter Hammond thought shaking his head and chuckling to himself. Jacob had once exasperatedly remarked “That girl ain’t right George” with a hefty amount of pride and a small touch of concern mixed into his voice and Hammond found himself thinking and feeling the same not for the first time this year.

Of course, the damage to the enemy came at a price. Steam was rising from the ground into damp night as hot Scarran blood began to churn the terrain. That was another problem; he knew enough about combat in the classical era and antiquity to know that on a rainy night like this, with ash and soot and dirt falling from the heavens after Carter’s min-nuke followed by the annihilation of the lion’s share of his remaining drones the death and devastation that it caused was likely going to result in enough grime and guts spilling onto the soil to make it an intolerable bog. Footing was insanely important in these kinds of battles, perhaps more so than any other element beyond quality foot-ware (Which was true in any age, Hammond’s father insisted that the quality of American shoe manufacturing quality was probably the single greatest asset it possessed in the war, arguably more so the atom bombs and right below America’s logistics and Hammond had never seen a solid counter argument to that in all his years in either the conventional Navy or the USSN.) and they were rapidly in danger of losing that advantage to the T rex footed giant lizard armor piloted by an unhinged drug addicted mammalian snake.

I have to thank Shepherd for pointing that out for me Hammond thought. That the host bodies were more like vehicles or equipment, very sophisticated “encounter suits” than they were the entity you were referring to.

If Apophis was wearing a sort of organic exo-suit, then Yahata was running the organic version of an old Sherman tank.

The son of a bitch would not go down.

The closest thing he’d ever seen to this was a forest elephant he knew in India who was obviously either a retired war elephant or descended from one and he remembered the spec ops group he was training that operated out of his turf (and it was his turf, that old elephant ran the whole damn forest as tightly as Hammond ran Cheyenne.) who had battle scars from taking on anything deadly that had entered his facility without leave. Tamerlane, they called him, after Tamerlane and it was a name that fit like a glove. They once found him demolishing a group of Chinese sponsored terrorists that had the misfortune of running their operation out of Tamerlane’s Forest.

They shot that old demon dozens of times, his leg had been set on fire, there was a machete sticking out of his rump and the bastard would not stop until every single one of them was dead even if that meant he had to perform convoy escort duty to hell to do it. It was that same psychotic fury he saw now.

Yahata wasn’t interested in victory; on some level he probably knew that even a Peer with those injuries couldn’t fight thousands of men with steel weaponry and a dozen armed men with sophisticated projectiles. It didn’t matter, he wanted it. The bastard was a kamikaze, and he embodied the fanaticism people hundreds of lightyears away that worshipped him despite not even knowing the origin of their divine figure and in his name once bathed most of the Eastern part of their home world in blood in his honor.

Admiral George Hammond had little interest in helping someone die to salvage honor the Admiral suspected he’d lost around the Viking age any way and so he took advantage of the moment of violent confusion a drone smashing into enemy combatants and exploding several hundred yards from their location caused to level his rifle and fire.

Next generation bullets were good, but apparently this thing’s scutes were tough enough that all he managed to do was crack and chip the armored bone above the eyeball and so the Admiral tried to fire again only to realize the giant suicidal snake commander had turned and sneered at him. “Hamun mik’ta! Kree”

Didn’t need to speak imperial standard to know that was an insult.

The Admiral idly wondered how the hell a fugitive who had spent a century on the run knew anything about him (And his conclusions weren’t good at all, namely that this was more than what it appeared, and it already appeared strange enough.) as he watched the fallen First Prime respond by thrusting that weapon of his forward, gutting a bunch of his own men and hurling them aside, plowing through blood soaked grass and soul as he stomped towards the Admiral, who crouched and fired.

Something tore and the giant grunted, and Hammond realized he likely blew off one of its testicles or its equivalent thereof. If the utterly agonized face that contorted into a mangled scowl of humiliation and rage filled his features was any indication. “Hasssack Taauu’Ri’so!”

The only insult Hammond returned were six bullets into its inner thigh. Green blood spurted out and he stumbled to one knee. The total sum of all the horrific injuries he’d sustained since Carter busted his bunker finally beginning to weigh the mad serpent down. Teal’c and Jack O’Neill ran towards Yahata like a pair of mad men, a kind of desperate look in the Colonel’s eyes as he tried to restrain Teal’c who fired several blasts from his staff weapon into Yahata’s wrist.

Hammond catching; on turned and fired into its right hand, smashing scutes and tearing through scale and bone. The alien giant roared, jerking and twisting on his bent knee attempting to flee from the assault but his movement was stopped when he swung his right arm and then doubled over in agony as a ripping, tearing sound carried above all others.

Something came loose and the spear fell forward.

Hammond sidestepped the spear, watching it crash harmlessly to the death soaked grass.

His eyes darted to the fallen First Prime and his wrist.

They sawed his hand off.

The creature looked down, almost in disbelief, around them the battle was either dying down, or had more or less ceased entirely. When he looked towards Hammond, finally regaining his focus. The hatred in his cruel “eyes” could have frozen an ocean. Yahata opened his mouth, a maddening roar of pure fury that echoed into the skies challenging the thunder. Louder then thunder and like Apophis before him, that weird hypnotic ability the Goa’uld voice powers carried made the roar penetrate his very being. Hammond felt a flurry of foreign emotions assault him, despair, rage, humiliation, lust, an incessant need to partake in addictive substances and a hatred for Teal’c that would have driven a lesser man to take up that hatred.

But George S Hammond wasn’t a lesser man, and he wasn’t an old Viking King in a Norse epic willing to die facing a Dragon in battle so that the Valkyrie might usher him into paradise.

He was an Admiral in the United State Space Force, Stellar Navy. “Lo’ there do I see my father.”

He took aim.

“And he taught me aim small, miss small.”

He fired.

And the bullets that were making the next generation squad weapons so damn famous out in the stars tore through the giant’s throat and open mouth, shattering teeth, jawbone and severing the spine at the base of his immense skull.

And from the trickles of blue blood.

Something else as well.

The roaring abruptly stopped.

Just as a puppet without strings the immense figure of Yahata went rigid and still. Dying on one knee, a grizzled, dinosaurian statue of dead flesh. A macabre tribute to the madness of the immortals.

Scarran, Sleestak, Lotar, Tau’Ri, everyone seemed to inch close, tentatively. Sloughing through the blood and the grime and the mud the skies sparked as storm clouds warred with the mushroom cloud.

Something twitched in the gaping mass of torn flesh that was the throat wound and Hammond edged back. O’Neill had joined him; the Colonel had a nasty gash above his eyebrow and his fatigues were torn in certain areas. He’d clearly exhausted the ammo of most of his weapons and was holding the O’Neill family 1911 pointed squarely at the writhing wound that had once been a neck.

Something slithered out, gasping, hacking, hissing. Retching, one its four fangs had been blown off, two of its four tiny green eyes were mashed beyond utility and its flesh was torn leaving a patchwork of sinew and odd-looking threads of energy woven between what was either nothing but pure nerves or muscle. Neither man had seen a fully mature Peer up close and from the Admiral’s vantage point the creature didn’t even look like it was fully corporeal which was one of the most disturbing aspects of the serpent like monster that was hissing, wheezing and seemingly trying to unleash one last psychic assault.

All Hammond knew, was that when it screeched something primal in his instincts screamed at him to get as far away from this thing as possible. An atavistic, ape like reaction to seeing something wholly unknown, not fully there reaching into your psyche.

Jack O’Neill and George Hammond fired simultaneously but Teal’c beat them to the punch, utterly vaporizing the creature that was the real Yahata.

Silence.

And then as if the Reptilians were under some sort of spell (Which they may very well have been if what Hammond remembered about the voice abilities of the Goa’uld in general but the Peers in specific were true.) enhancing their hatred and despair, they began to look around insensate and drunk as if an imposed clarity had been stripped them from with enough abruptness to leave them nearly lobotomized.

Teal’c walked towards the immobile corpse, its head unbent in a posthumous act of defiance and after examination propped himself onto the bent knee and reached down into the throat to retrieve what little was left of the fallen first Prime.

With a tear he pulled it loose and leaped to the death covered ground and rose displaying the mangled serpent’s tail. “BEHOLD!” he called in space Egyptian. “Thus passes Yahata of the house of Ame-no-Minakanushi, Bastard progeny of Amaterasu by Apollo!” Teal’c would refuse to use the word son, for he was attainted and thus no son of the Red Dawn.

Around them the Scarrans and other lizards seemed to fall to their knees, the fight utterly torn out from within their souls. Their civilization was gone, their worlds and their fellow Scarrans were now a conquered people, ruled over by their bitterest enemy a race of failed Jaffa prototypes. Their families were lost to slave mines, cartels and enforcers or had been put to slaughter or hunted for sport, betrayed by those in whose trust they’d placed their futures and now even their vengeance had been coopted and stolen to sate the madness of another. Hammond almost pitied them, but for what he’d heard about the former Scarran Empire he knew all too well that this sorrowful existence was one brought entirely upon themselves. From the macabre gathering around the deceased fugitive to the rear it seemed as though the fighting had finally ceased.

The war for the fate of the people of Hurot was over.

The Judgment of the Scarrans was now at hand.

And as Admiral George Hammond looked up at a sky.

The thunder seemed oddly animated and a sense that there was something else here, watching sitting in Judgment once again upon his boys and girls who had given their all, shed their blood, fought their hardest and may have died all on a world that wasn’t their own, for a people that weren’t theirs, in a feud they had nothing to do with.

He was proud of them all, no matter what.

He was proud of them all.