Author's note: Well, here is the next chapter of this story, and it is time to introduce another important character, one that will stay with us for quite some time. I'm working on the next chapter, but I'm not sure it will be done by next week. I'll try but...
Guest: It is quite possible I said that because I was remembering the fact about the Ethiopians, spears, and a tank, on some subconscious level, but forgot about the details. If not, I'm not sure I would have used people with spears and a tank to make a point. Go figure. You forget the details, and you end up using the wrong thing to make a point.
Guest No. 2: For now, I'm keeping this and the other stories completely separate. It is easier to follow. So, not sure if there'll be any mixing with the enemies from the other story here. I'm also trying not to make it to complex with too many sides.
Thanks to my beta, and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter too.
updated on 6/9/2019
"Jump completed ma'am!"
"Very well," Admiral Cain replied, complacent of how her crew was performing. "Begin the system-wide scan."
Cain waited while the sensor officer worked diligently and swiftly on his console while thinking about their voyage that had taken them hundreds of light years behind the Red Line. The journey thus far had been entirely uneventful, but she knew that would soon change. Both because they should be meeting with the Expeditionary Fleet and because she knew the Cylons were chasing after it, which meant that the chances of an encounter were climbing fast.
She also didn't like the mission's parameters. She knew Adama well enough and having the task of taking something from him that she knew he'd be reluctant to part with, could pose a serious problem. With the war against the Cylons raging back home, the last thing she needed was to have to shoot at their people. But the president's orders were clear. She needed to get the shield generator back, and it wasn't debatable. Plus, since she didn't have the necessary force to make Adama do anything, he could easily deny her request.
Admiral Nagala had explained how, in his infinite wisdom, the president needed warships back home because he needed to retake Caprica. Even though Nagala didn't give any specifics, she was smart enough to know why the president wanted to retake Caprica. The timing when the liberation of the planet needed to occur was a sufficiently strong clue to know that politics was involved. She knew the president didn't care about a world devastated by nuclear bombing and much less cared for the people still trapped there. He cared for the votes the liberation of Caprica would inevitably bring him.
And that didn't sit well with her.
Not that she had a high opinion of the man before this latest insight into his character. She thought that the man was a moron, a weak leader, and also responsible for the most recent Cylon attack. If he hadn't downsized the military budget, planets like Caprica would have been protected with adequate orbital defenses. Not to mention with more warships readily available to defend them, which could have prevented the Cylons from even getting the idea of restarting the war. Or at the very least, the losses would have been smaller, and perhaps Caprica and Geminon wouldn't have fallen into enemy hands.
She was pissed. The man's incompetence was legendary, and she wished him out of Office at the end of this fast nearing end of his term. She also had the suspicion that Nagala thought the same way. Maybe they could do something about that. Of course, that was, if she could get home before elections.
"Admiral, there are no ships in the system except ours."
Cain turned toward the officer who'd just spoken. "So, the Expeditionary Fleet isn't here. It probably means that they've chosen Rendezvous Point Beta. Is there anything else of any interest in this system?" She remembered the report mentioning that this place had been chosen as Rendezvous Point Alpha for a specific reason, but she couldn't remember what that reason might be.
"There's only one habitable planet in the system, ma'am."
Habitable planets were scarce in this region of the galaxy. In a hundred light years radius, which roughly created a volume of five million cubic light years, there were approximately 15.000 stars. Yet, they had calculated that only one in 2.000 stars had a habitable planet present. Their mission was to meet with the Fleet, but such a finding required further investigation.
It was a carefully kept secret that, after the thousands of years of unregulated consumption, the deposits of Tylium in the Cyranus System were almost completely gone. If they could find another system with an abundance of Tylium - especially one with a habitable planet in it so that people had a place to live while mining the nearby asteroid fields - the shortage of their primary source of energy would finally be solved.
"Take us in orbit above the habitable planet. Let's see what we have here," Cain ordered.
The Pegasus, her two Valkyrie escorts, and three more Defender class gunships meant as reinforcement for Adama slowly pushed toward the fourth planet in the system.
Entering orbit hours later, the Lt. operating the sensors began scanning the surface of the planet. A planet had a large surface, and it took a little over an hour to scan 70 percent of it. It was also the moment when the officer noticed something peculiar.
"Um… Admiral, I think you need to see this," the Lt. said, clearly puzzled at what he was seeing.
"What is it?" Cain asked while moving near the Lt. and the big screen meters in front of him. But even before the Lt. could say anything, she saw it on the screen for herself. "What? How's that possible?"
"I don't know, ma'am."
Cain frowned. The screen was showing a magnified real-time image of the surface directly below them. She was watching people moving around in the middle of a decently sized town. The town could comfortably house at least fifty thousand people and, as the Lt. zoomed out the view, there were nearby farms with large fields of grain spread around them. It also appeared that these people were at a level where they didn't know about electricity. "Ok, this needs to be checked more thoroughly. Tell the CAG to send a raptor down there."
"Yes, Admiral."
Kalen strolled through the central plaza, smiling while watching the people moving in all directions. It had become a ritual of his to every day spend at least an hour mingling with his people. It was crucial for a leader to show his face in public and to, on occasion, listen to their wishes and occasional trouble. He was confident that was one of the reasons why he'd managed to stay in charge for more than two decades and why his people liked him so much. His predecessor had made the mistake of believing that he was the king and these people's absolute ruler, reigning with an iron fist. It was the reason why he'd lost his head when enough people had enough of the way he'd ruled over them. It was a mistake he was adamant not to make.
Life was good in Melor. The weather was good for most of the year, and the crops were plentiful. There was no reason to force people in doing anything, and he was more of the opinion that, if his people were happy, he was pleased as well. He had a wife and three children, with the fourth on his way, and they were all healthy and well fed.
What could he possibly ask more from life?
As he neared the center of the plaza, he began hearing a strange noise; one he had never heard before. It was coming from the north and from above, which was making it even more puzzling.
What could make such high pitch sound?
He stopped walking, watching intently in the direction from where the sound was coming, the same as many other people nearby. As the noise was becoming louder and louder, he understood that, whatever that was, it was coming their way. He began squinting, trying to discern what the dot he was now starting to see could be. Suddenly, fear began overwhelming him. No, this wasn't possible! This could not be happening! He knew about stories from centuries ago about contraptions capable of flying. But that would mean-
"The Gods have returned!" a man near him shouted in terror.
Kalen turned toward the shouting man. He needed to say something before people started panicking "Please, Marin, do not incite fear in people."
Marin turned to face Kalen. "Don't you understand? Only the Gods know how to fly. It must be them having returned! And our ancestors have buried the Chapa'ai, and we let it stay that way. The Gods must have returned to punish us because of our transgression!"
Kalen heard the fearful whispers of the people around him, several of them hugging their loved ones in alarm. He didn't know what the quickly approaching object was, but if they started panicking, it wouldn't matter much either.
"People!" Kalen yelled sharply. Seeing that the people in the plaza had turned to face him, and stopped murmuring, he continued. "Do not panic people! We do not know what this is. Let us not be afraid of the shadows before we see what is making them." It was something his father always told him when, as a child, he was afraid of the shadows he would see coming from outside of his house during a stormy night.
The people did somewhat calmed down, but not as much as he'd hoped. He turned to see what was coming their way. Now it was only a few hundred meters from him, and it was slowing down during what looked like its final approach. He waited patiently until the flying contraption began hovering right above them. The people in the plaza quickly moved away in all directions. As there wasn't anyone beneath the flying object anymore, the thing began lowering until it touched the ground. Suddenly, the high pitch sound started whining down until it completely disappeared. He was prepared to step closer - he was after all their leader, and he needed to show them that there was nothing to be afraid of - but when the side of the craft began opening, he decided to be more prudent and remain where he was.
When the hatch opened, he noticed three people standing inside. They were wearing some bizarre clothing he'd never seen before.
Were his people right? Did the Gods return?
Two men exited while holding something in both of their hands. It wasn't a stick, nor was it the weapon the Gods' servants used to instill fear within their ancestors - at least not if the stories on how the weapons looked like were true. It had been so long ago, and so much had been lost, that he couldn't be sure.
Kalen gathered all the courage he could muster, intent at talking to these people whoever they were. But even before he made a step, he noticed Marin sprinting and kowtowing in front of them. It was enough for him to know that more would follow his example. Idiot!
As predicted, one after another, they all followed Marin's example. If he knew anything about negotiation, it was that you never entered into one holding the short end of a stick; precisely what had happened right at this moment.
After the first two men had jumped on the ground and moved to both sides of the hatch, a third man got out. He moved just a few feet in front of the other two. This person was their leader while the other two were his guards, which meant that what the guards were holding in their hands were probably weapons. What kind, he really couldn't tell.
Kolen stepped forward. Right now, he was the only one who wasn't kowtowing on the ground in front of these people. "Hello, my name is Kolen, and I'm the leader of this town."
The man in front of him put a puzzling frown on his face, as if not understanding what he'd said, "My name is Cole Tylor. I'm sorry for having startled you with our arrival."
Kolen heard the words, and he also understood most of them, but not all. There was also something about their accent that made even the words that he understood sound peculiar. The important thing though was that he understood enough. It meant that he could communicate with these people. The even more important part was that he didn't think these people were the ruthless gods his ancestors have lived under. Among others, this man had used the word 'sorry' in his sentence. He knew the Gods would never use such a word while addressing slaves.
Suddenly, from behind, Kolen heard the voice of Marin. "Please have mercy. Our ancestors did not know what they were doing. Spare our lives, and we will unearth the Chapa'ai."
Kolen rolled his eyes in frustration. Marin didn't know when to quit. Taking a deep breath to calm down, he turned to look at Marin who was still kneeling on the ground. "Marin," he said, waiting for Marin to look at him. "Please shut up." Seeing that Marin had understood how serious he was and that he probably wouldn't say anything else, he turned back to the three strangers. "Would it be acceptable if we were to continue this discussion in my office? As you can see, my people have been frightened by your sudden arrival and the longer we stay here, the worse it will be.
Cole understood enough, "Of course. Please lead the way."
Before leaving, Kolen turned to his people, giving them a few reassuring words. "See, there is nothing to fear. The Gods haven't returned." He then motioned to the three men to follow him in his office.
… two hours later
Cole was sitting in a chair in front of Kolen's table, with Kalen seated on the other side, thinking very hard. He didn't know what was going on here. If he'd understood this man correctly, several centuries ago there was a ruler on this world who pretended to be a God. That individual had ruled over these people ruthlessly with the help of other… lesser Gods and an army of, what this man had called, Jaffa warriors. These people's ancestors had been slaves forced to mine some ore the God wanted badly. It would also appear that such a situation had lasted for millennia until the metal was completely excavated. When that happened, God, his helpers, and his army of Jaffa left the planet, never to return. The people of the time then buried something they were calling the Chapa'ai or the Ring of the Gods so that the Gods could not return. And the worst part of the story was that, on several occasions, this God had come to the planet in a frakking flying pyramid!
He didn't know what these people were smoking, but he had to get some for himself.
Before this man told him this fantastic tale, he was sure these people were the descendants of the colonists who had left Kobol. There were many stories of colony ships that had left humanities birth planet during the Great Exodus, but that had never reached the Cyranus system. But as far as he could tell, these people knew nothing about Kobol or its tribes. Still, it was possible that they'd forgotten everything about Kobol, not remembering their roots. Maybe they'd lost everything when their ship had crash-landed, and they were unable to salvage anything, but what was all this talk about this Goa'uld Gods, Jaffa, and flying pyramids?
I still can't imagine a flying pyramid. And what the hell is a Chapa'ai!?
Well, that was one thing he could find out. "Can you show me this Chapa'ai?"
Kolen was thoughtful, "We were told by our ancestors never to unearth it so that the Gods could not return."
"How would the Gods use it to return?" It was a good question since he didn't have a clue what the thing was.
"I do not know. Our ancestors never talked about it. They only told us that it is evil and that it must never be unearthed."
Cole frowned. These people were afraid of it, whatever it was. He needed to find a way to make this man show him where it was. "What if I told you that we can take this Chapa'ai with us and that you'll never have to worry about it ever again? We could take it to our world."
Kolen's eyes widened, "You can take it to another world? But why would you put your people in such peril? Why would you bring something so evil to your world?"
Well, maybe it was best if he lied here, "Because we do not fear it. We know how to destroy it - forever."
Kolen liked hearing this. "You can destroy it? I did not know such a thing could be done."
Cole was feeling weird about lying to get something he didn't know what it was, but what he did know was that he badly wanted to find out what the thing was. "Of course! We have dealt with evil machines before." That one wasn't a lie. They had been turning Cylons into scrap for a very long time, and there was no greater evil than the Cylons.
Kolen was still thinking about it, still uncertain if unearthing the Chapa'ai was the right thing to do, but the thought of riding this world of it was very alluring to him. "I will show you the Chapa'ai."
Cole smiled. Oh yeah! Let's get ourselves a Chapa'ai! Chapa'ai… Chapa'ai… The name is very catchy. I wish I knew what the hell a Chapa'ai is. With my luck, it will be a massive bomb.
…three hours later.
No native came near the excavation site where the Chapa'ai was buried. A few hundreds of them were present, all watching, but they all stood at a safe distance at least a hundred feet away while his people worked to unearth the thing. Because of it, he'd called for reinforcements, and four raptors were now landed near the dig site. For the best part of the past two hours, a dozen Colonials had been shoveling the dirt on top of the Ring away. Cole also had to admit that the thing was big! It also appeared to be very heavy. After unearthing it, they'd tried to lift it with one raptor by attaching some cables to it, but the raptor had stalled in midair even while at full throttle and the thing hadn't moved by an inch. But Cole wasn't ready to give up, not yet. If one raptor couldn't do it, he was certain three raptors could.
All three raptors had long cables attached to their underside, with the other ends wrapped around three points on the large ring. In unison, the raptors lifted off the ground a hundred feet in the air until the cables fully extended. Cole watched as the Raptors slowly increased their throttle, with the sound getting louder and louder. He was already thinking that even three birds wouldn't be enough to lift the damn thing when he noticed the ring shaking and then slowly beginning to lift. Soon, the ring was in the air, with the three raptors gaining altitude faster and faster. He was glad to see it. After all, this part was the most challenging. Now that they were in the air, they could fire their rear engines, which would give much more thrust. And once in space, even this monstrosity would become weightless. He only hoped that the cables would hold until they reached orbit, because if that thing fell-
'Better not think about it,' Cole thought.
Meanwhile, the pilot of the fourth and last raptor moved toward the nearby bushes. He needed to relieve himself. As he went behind the first available bush out of sight, he heard a strange rustling sound coming from behind. He turned, not knowing why someone would follow him when he went peeing, but people were weird at times, and he didn't know these people, so, anything was possible. What he saw was one of the natives. The man didn't look very threatening, and he didn't have anything with him that could be construed as a weapon. Thinking that the man just wanted to ask him something, he relaxed. The next instant, he saw the man's eyes glow, just before a snake leaped out from behind his head and went straight at him. As the snake hit him in the neck, it quickly dashed around to his back. It was then that he felt a sharp pain at the base of his skull.
He couldn't move. He tried with all the will power he could muster but to no avail. That also wasn't the worst part either. The worst part was that he could feel a presence, but not near him. He could feel it inside his mind - a presence that had taken complete control of his body.
Suddenly, he felt his foot rise from the ground, and then sharply slam into the head of the man that had crumbled on the ground after the snake had jumped from him. He could feel the crunching sound of the man's skull beneath his feet as he crushed it. He immediately knew that the man had died. He had killed a man that he didn't even know, and he wasn't even the one in control of his body. He suddenly felt such overwhelming fear, with an intensity he'd never felt before, but he also sensed the new presence in his mind, the one controlling him, laughing in great joy. He didn't know if the presence was laughing because it had killed a person or because of the fear he was feeling. He had the suspicion it was because of both of those reasons.
His body suddenly began moving toward the Raptor, without him being at the helm. He needed to warn his people. He needed to tell them what was happening to him, but he couldn't even open his mouth, much less communicate. As his fear and frustration spiked again, the presence in his mind rejoiced once more with renewed vigor.
The man had finally found out that, after all, pure evil existed in the universe.
Too bad he would carry this newfound knowledge to his grave, unable to tell to a living soul.
Ba'al strode purposefully toward the alien craft he was the pilot of, still not believing at his fortune. After the rise of the Terrans, he had been tasked with a particular mission. He, as the last Ba'al clone, needed to travel into the past to change the future, but when he'd tried to reach the space station that monitored solar flares, he learned there was no such space station to speak of, but only debris. The Terrans had found it and destroyed it, which meant that he was screwed with no way of opposing such a powerful foe. Worst even, the Terrans had increased their planetary security to such a degree that he couldn't infiltrate the planet to try and destroy them from within. All this left him with only one possible course of action.
To flee.
He knew about this secluded world. He had been their God millennia ago, up until the moment when the deposits of Naquadah ran out more than two centuries ago. He also knew that the gate had been buried by the slaves, which meant that even the Terrans couldn't know about it. And the chance they would stumble upon it by chance was ridiculously small. It meant that this planet was the perfect hiding place.
Still, he couldn't risk someone stumbling on it by chance while retaking the role of God. He would quickly be discovered, with dire consequences. No, he could not have risked it. He'd decided to keep a low profile so that, even if somebody came, he wouldn't be suspected of being a Goa'uld.
It was the reason why he'd spent years as nothing more than a simple peasant, seemingly blending among these people as if he was one of them. And it had worked. No one had ever suspected who he was. Not that it had been easy though. On many occasions, during these years of living clandestinely, it had been very trying, many times wanting nothing more than to show these people who he was, their true God. But somehow he'd managed to keep his temper in check - a feat he didn't know if any other Goa'uld would have been able to accomplish.
And then, suddenly, providence brought these strange Colonials, a race of humans no one even knew existed. They were also very advanced. Maybe not by Goa'uld standards, but they were a spacefaring race that numbered in billions and had twelve worlds under their control. He could barely believe that such fortune could fall into his lap the way it did. But since it did, it didn't take him long to decide it was time to leave this hellhole of a planet and go to find some greener pastures.
Somewhere where he could maybe even restart his empire.
As he approached the raptor, he spotted the CAG looking at him, not pleased.
"Vincent! You worthless piece of shit! Where have you been and how the hell could you leave your Raptor unattended?" Cole barked in anger.
Ba'al's first thought was to snap the neck of the impudent worm that had dared address him in such a manner, but he knew it would be the wrong move. A momentary pleasure could cost him everything. "Sorry, sir. I had to go pee."
"You're the black sheep in the fleet - you know that, right? If you don't do something stupid, you don't do anything except the bare minimum not to get kicked out. If there weren't a war right now, I would have personally kicked you to the curb myself months ago!"
"Sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
"And now you're even lying to me! It's just getting better and better. I don't know what it is going to be, Vincent, but the next ten worst jobs that I can give to a raptor pilot are yours. Is that understood?"
"Perfectly, sir!" Ba'al replied, again getting the clear image of him torturing the man, maybe even in a worse way than how he'd tortured O'Neill.
"Good! Now, start moving that worthless ass and put it into the pilot's seat so that we can finally leave this planet. We are done here."
Without saying anything, Ba'al went inside the raptor and into the pilot's seat. He quickly powered the craft, glancing once to see if everybody was inside, before closing the hatch and taking off. Unknown to the CAG, he was even more eager to leave this rock than the man was. While speeding towards the Pegasus, he thought about what he needed to do next. Yes, he'd managed to get away, but he was going to a spaceship that wasn't about to return to their home system any time soon, and he needed to get there somehow. He wasn't planning to stay on a single ship as a Raptor pilot for possibly months while, from the man's memories, he knew pilots were the first to die when fighting the Cylons. No, he needed to leave the fleet somehow and go back to the Colonies.
Suddenly, he realized something. From Vincent's memories, he knew that it was standard procedure to send a raptor back to the Colonies whenever some great discovery was found and finding a habitable planet with people on it when the Colonials thought they were alone in the universe was a significant discovery by anyone's standards.
"Sir, I apologize again for my behavior. To make it right, please allow me to be the one going back to the Colonies and deliver the news of this recent discovery."
Cole's eyes flew wide. Vincent volunteering to do anything was unheard of. Vincent was the type of guy that would keep quiet and crunched behind a row of other pilots in order to become as invisible as possible whenever duties were passed on. Even when he got a task to perform, he would still try to wiggle out of it. His current behavior was out of character.
Then Cole realized something. He had promised him that the next ten worst jobs would be his, which meant that he'd get the tedious task of jumping countless times back to Colonial space only to deliver a message and then do the same jumping all over again to get back to the fleet anyway. So, of course, what he was doing was to spin this in his favor. As if it had been his idea to volunteer. "Sure Vincent. The job is all yours, as well as many other ungrateful jobs once you get back."
"Of course, sir," Ba'al replied, smiling. He didn't tell the CAG that he didn't have any intention of returning once he got back into Colonial space.
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