Chapter 10
(A lot of the beginning is boring, fluff focused stuff. You can skip to the next [[][ breaker if you don't wish to read it)
"This Quickening…" Fenrir held the auto-syringe out for the room to see. Most of the higher ranking individuals, of those being Hassir, temporary Lord of Armies, and Btham, Lord of Sciences, and another ten other representatives, and their two members of staff behind them. "…is a neurological development accelerant. When administered, will seek out the Greater Cerebral Vein, where it will then aggressively force neurons to develop. This requires intense focus from the individual, any distraction for the full twenty hours of its activity may prove to hamper any improvement on a subject."
"You ask us to take this drug in order to more rapidly learn various topics of your Hierarchy? Why don't we just learn more steadily over time, add in our own aspects of culture? These sessions you made thousands of years ago would hardly be universal." A male spoke from the table, his name unknown to Fenrir, but was clearly human. He spoke well, but his voice carried a tone of tension, nervousness from being at the same table of Jaffa and speaking of sharing in government equally.
"Your culture?" Hassir questioned sarcastically, "You're farmers, laborers. You can't even read or write. What 'culture' do you have to add?"
"Master Jaffa…" Fenrir glared at her, looking to one of the human representatives, seeing outrage as well as carefully disciplined withdrawal not to engage the old jaffa. Fenrir was uncertain whether or not this is due to her specifically being a jaffa, or maybe was more politically inclined before these first beginning weeks of the Hierarchy. "They shall learn in time, but the Quickening can have the human's literacy of Summa'Goa to your level or greater in but five days, then to Gjin-Ai. The accelerant must be given two days to leave the body, if injected within these forty-eight hours, could not only be toxic but damage the brain of the user." He paced the sides of the tables, behind the seated dozen and their twenty-four staff members behind them, "These lessons that Ha'Gael has developed gives the information, the Quickening does not impose, replace or impair the thoughts, ideas or theories that an individual has or may have in the future. It is like any lesson, giving information, but is your choice on how to interpret it."
Bthahm spoke, "While I am not a biologist or chemist by any stretch, Ha'Gael has informed me that anyone who uses it will be introduced to mild pain in the forms of headaches, muscle aches, and various other symptoms that range from person to person. I shudder to think what it may do to a child, and is out of range of use to someone that has not reached a maturity of twenty-or-so-years."
Fenrir stopped, turning from the table and looked out to city.
Toha-Rah. First City. The substandard, wretched stone buildings and huts of the Capital of Ix'Zary were replaced with a far more spacious and open metropolis. The apartments, housing and living quarters of most citizens were focused at the center, around the citadel, expanding outwards from the building he and the temporary council stood upon. He moved most of the system's citizens to Toha after it was completed, swelling the number of those within it to just over two-million, the majority being slightly in favor of the humans in terms of numbers, but literacy, education and combative skills being almost totally in the hands of the jaffa.
In the mid-ring were various establishments such as bakeries, vertical farms, groceries, merchant posts and, most recently, banks.
"How fares the transition from Naquadah coins to Hierarchy Ducats?" Fenrir asked. A good portion of the last five weeks was forming a basis of economy, transferring away from bartering and trade and more into currency, where each ducat represented a specific weight of Naquadah. Since Ha'Gael's deployed refinery vessels and mining drones to the belt, they've had a vast access to the mineral and proved a valid basis of Mineral-Standard for the Ducats.
If he encountered other cultures (hopefully soon, he was getting anxious and desired to explore the systems nearby), if they had Naquadah, could easily begin trading in Hierarchy territory, whilst those that did not and had more domestic goods or consumables could trade for Naquadah from the Ducats they earned.
"Most are still at odds or confused with the process. They still find the ducats to be a bit… odd looking."
Fenrir dug a hand in one of his robe pockets and pulled out a ducat, examining the iron-grey block. It held an impression of the Star-Wolf, and between its jaws held the star of Ix'Zary, the neighboring heavenly bodies laser inscribed. At the 'bottom' of the ducat was a laser etched set-code, to insure validation and deny counterfeiting, looking like sets of keys lain side by side.
Of course, there were 'decimal currency' which took the appearance of laser inscribed copper squares, silver triangles and gold circles, representing zero-point-one (0.01), zero-point-ten (0.10), and zero-point-fifty (0.50) respectively.
This was an unusual exercise in simple economics for Fenrir, as transferring to the more collectivist-rank oriented economy of the old Hierarchy was not only a bit hampering, it would likely not work for these people. He needed people to go out, find resources, goods, and people to commit services in order to expand fast and promote an individual identity for his new citizens, no longer purely farmers, warriors or laborers.
"Aesthetics are of little focus currently." Fenrir chuckled, looking at the clan-iron clad buildings of the city, smooth, spear-like and gleaming in the morning light of the desert.
The metal seemed to darken from exposure to a yellow-light star. The adopted homeworld of the clans, where the clan-iron was created, almost glowed under the light of the red star.
"Perhaps. We must, however, get back on track. The Quickening can be distributed first to one half of the army, then to the other as soon as the first recover. As soon as we know we won't be weakened from a lack of able warriors, we can distribute the various lessons and the Quickening in a mere ten days." Hassir commented.
"We can distribute it first to the worker volunteers!" A newcomer jaffa, one of the treasury master's guards, before he was killed. Apparently, the treasury goa'uld required at least minimally helpful guards to assist with her duties, making her useful in teaching and leading the various humans and jaffa that came to her in the hopes to further furnish the city. She had a youthful appearance, eyes blazing with passionate determination, hair more white then Kanyto but far shorter, just under her chin and skin red-brown as if her fiery temperament had leaked to her epidermis. "We can construct defense towers, protect the city in similar fashion to Ha'Gael protects space in orbit. Or further increase ship or defense platform production. Improve the workers, improve the state of life of the Hierarchy. The information and engineering is already here, we just need the knowledge how to understand the information and engineering."
Fenrir sighed, "We're looking at this product too limitedly. We cannot replace traditional education with Quickening. I told we are going to give the first bounties of it to the military officers immediately under Hassir's command, not to the army as a whole then allow for public distribution. If they desire to have an accelerated education course, they must either become a warrior or officer of great merit or purchase it themselves, such things cannot be simply given, no matter a group's place in society or disposition. However, with the new need for instructors becoming paramount, we can distribute it in limited forms freely, per your recommendations."
He spotted one of the staff lean in and whisper to one of the people he has yet to remember a name from. She was a large jaffa, giving the impression that she was recently a warrior, before and after the Hierarchy reclamation, he could not say. She looked to him and asked, "Explain how, after the dissolution of this provisional council, will the Hierarchy government function? Where would we find ourselves?"
Fenrir walked to his chair, some distance away from the front of the teardrop shaped table, swiping a hand over the console on the seat's left arm. "Holo display: New Hierarchy government."
The table's center holographic projector opened up and shown the symbol of the Star-Wolf before transferring to a set of runes, lines leading to one another and icon representation of individual ranks or occupations in society. "The Hierarchy is as much a merit focused republic as it is an oligarchy. Cities, space habitats, planets and star systems are required to elect a representative from both the larger population of citizens and a set of the twelve highest officials that represent the twelve lords of the Hierarchy. The Writ of Rahaga, an outline explaining the minimal focuses, laws and liberties that official Hierarchy territories must have, where the peoples involved must confer to its laws as supreme and cannot make or enforce laws that limit or curtail them. These are only those territories whom are directly under control of the citizenry, the twelves lords and the crimson-king."
"Excuse? Citizenry? Twelves lords? Crimson-king?"
"The citizenry is a legislative body of publically nominated citizens to represent various, officially recognized bodies of likeminded people whom place effort, resources and voices together in order to effect change in a certain fashion, whether it is to petition inclusion of a territory within the Hierarchy, change of a law within the government and throughout its territories, or demand a replacement of one of twelves lords. There will be one citizen-representative per recognized territory." Fenrir shrugged, "We only would have two right now. One for those who live in Toha-Rah, one other for those who live in Ha'Gael. Ha'Gael herself is a citizen, and is thus considered an equal voter, as is Ria-zar. They often don't however, feel it's beneath them."
He continued, "The twelve-lords are the highest positions in the Hierarchy government, regulating, directing and exemplifying one of the twelve facets of society: army, navy, education, commerce, production, agriculture, medical, law, intelligence, diplomatic, sciences, and the citizenry." He zoomed into the twelve runes representing the twelve lords. "Each lord has an equal say in parliament, and are held in equal footing of certain Examinations and Equialibrium, assuring that one lord can neither infringe on the duties of another nor control past their elected performances, focusing on the fulfillment of roles which cannot be done purely themselves. Soldiers need farmers, diplomats needs soldiers, navies need materials, production needs education and so on. The possibility of becoming a lord is all inclusive, anyone of the profession and ability can be voted into the position if one dies, is proven inept and voted out or is surrendered to a given nominee. Every farmer, thus, can potentially become not only a high ranking member in control of the various assets under him, but possibly a lord his or herself of agriculture. Bankers, bakers and merchants, commerce. Each duty thus extends to the branch as a whole, encouraging to commit to the job to the fullest abilities and advance in rank and status, as we expand, more opportunities will become available to the various ranks. The lord of citizenry is voted into the position, being able to put forth the people's desires amidst the other twelve-lords in parliament, voted not by their duty, but by their merit, and by the desire of his or her fellow citizens. Now! My favorite part:" Clicking on the console and focusing on the highest rune of the lot, "The Crimson-King. Me."
"The crimson-king is a man, or woman, that has absolute authority amidst the high lords and parliament. It is as much a counter balance to assure that the lords do their duty to the fullest ability, and if found wanting, or maneuvers in such a way, can authorize immediate dismissal, removal or execution of one of the lords and nominate a successor. They, however, can only do this once every ten years. The crimson-king will have a private army at most one thousand personnel, called the Carmine-Guard. A successor is either chosen directly by the king or can be overruled by shared vote of both Parliament and the Citizenry. This king, can only be of a clan, however. As our physical immortality allows for more limited infringement, unless absolutely necessary, being able to see much longer down the line then others and guide the Hierarchy most efficiently."
The fire-blooded jaffa slammed a fist on the table, "This crimson-king, you, would operate with nearly unlimited power! You'd be no different than the goa'uld!"
He rolled his eyes, "Yes, so close to a goa'uld, I'd offer a tested and successful government, free of constraints of birth, race, free to perform in this society, rise as high as your skills can take you and vote for your people's desires." He presented an arm to her, closing his eyes and placing the back of his hand on his forehead dramatically, "Open my wrist! Let me bleed my last! Before this power corrupts me!"
She stared between him and the wrist, wondering if he'd gone mad, "Are you serious?"
He took the arm back and smiled at her, "No." Looking back to the table, "You all will be the first twelve-lords of the Hierarchy, but first must assure economic stability and surety, that the people can provide for themselves, their families and all under their care, steadily easing them into new positions and how the government functions. This could very well take months, and should start immediately. Any questions?" Fenrir awaited a response, "Good, dismissed."
The council stood from their seats, saluting in the jaffa fashion of bowing slightly whilst placing a fist over the center of the heart, then proceeded down the citadel to perform their various duties, given to them by their staff.
One stayed, however. Btham, who approached Fenrir as soon as all had departed and smiled broadly, "I heard you've adopted a child, Fenrir!"
He chuckled, "Made. Didn't adopt. I know, I know, the timing doesn't make sense to you, I've only been in the system for two months, how could I have sired a full fledged child in that time? I have, and she's safe and healthy."
Btham shrugged and gestured to the door, "Can I at least see the child? Is it with its mother?"
Fenrir's smile vanished like cube of ice in a fire. "She left. I do not know where she is."
"She abandoned her child?" She asked, appalled and shocked.
"Hardly abandoned. I will make certain that the child has more love then any two parents could spare. I have to return to her side soon anyways, come." He presented his arm to the door downwards.
As they entered the elevator, where his comrade asked, "So it's a girl then? Whats her name?"
[[][
Denta held the bundle close to her chest, cheeks dry as she looked at the World-Gate, Fenrir at her flank.
"Please, stay. She deserves a mother, a good mother. She needs you." The man tried to convince her, here at the eleventh hour of their deal.
Denta slowly shook her head, jostling the pack filled with supplies enough to survive on her own for a month. "I… I can't. I need to be far away from here and forget what the goa'uld have…" She swiped at a cheek, eyes bleary red. "I know you'll be a better parent then me. I don't even know who I am."
Fenrir tried to hold back his scorn for Denta's decision, but did curse her silently as she held the babe towards him.
He looked to the chapa'ai after he took their child to his chest, "Where do you go?"
"A place I think that may remember me, or at least, holds clues from where I come from." Denta stared at the child as she spoke.
"You said you had a name for her?" Kaennin asked, forcing tenderness in his voice where, he would be speaking only with apathy if the child were not here. Looking down, parting a part of the blanket the daughter slept. Opening an eye as she felt Kaennin's finger cross her cheek, where orange eyes, new to the world, bore unto his own of near identical color.
"Adria." Denta said, as she prepared to step through the gate. "I… think it was what my mother was called." Pacing over the edge of the portal, it quickly shut down.
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"Her name is Adria." Fenrir looked to Bthahm as they stood in the lift. "When I am not around for some time, I have given the duty to trusted friends. Kanyto, her new charge of nieces and one elderly jaffa look over her."
At the recollection of Baxtza's children, Bthahm's lips stressed into a vexed line. A former comrade betraying her people. They had lost a father to a simple accident, how have they taken to a mother being killed for treason? Do they even know?
"I hope to raise her between myself and jaffa standards. She must be made strong sooner, rather than later." Fenrir commented, "And all jaffa must have a clansman that they admire and respect."
"More then you, their liberator?" Bthahm scoffed dryly. "I'd name my firstborn after you, if you asked."
"I don't think that's nessessary, though flattered." He nodded to her with a smile, "I am still an outsider, taking up the jaffa's cause for true freedom. Adria will become a bridge between the clan and the jaffa."
Bthahm bit her bottom lip, "She will face rigors a human shouldn't. I would warrant thinking long and hard before committing to that decision."
Fenrir shrugged, "She is of the clan. She will be both strong and resourceful. Baring the need for implantation of a prim'ta. Speaking of: how fares your Naki?"
"Kanyto was not kidding when she spoke of how much less it stirred. It's almost… humble in how it tries to not move too rapidly, no longer anxious to leave." Bthahm denied the sudden urge to touch her pouch's opening from the mention.
"Good, it was meant to be so." Fenrir nodded approvingly. "We've only heard of two cases of rejection, but now have immature goa'uld in excess for them to use until a sustainable substitute can be found or made."
The lift stopped at the city-core's highest level, and they both walked off in unison before the grav lift descended down further to service another. Of course, the jaffa preferred stairs, being able to go up flights without tiring in the least, but many of the newly added human facilitators absolutely adored the new transportation addition of graviton controlled personnel elevation lifts.
He opened up the doors to his far more spacious quarters, though still sparse of decoration. At least, that's what he thought, as he looked at one end of the room, he saw Son'Tza and B'ari sparing with wooden replicas of the Va'Tok staves, Amae'An, guardian before and now partly after Baxtza's rediscovering them, sitting in a wooden chair holding Adria in her lap, facing the practice duel but often looking back up to Amae'An and giggling, pointing a small, chubby finger at her and saliva bubbling at her mouth.
"Ah-ah! Attack only when grounded! Strike without proper footing, you are either dead or defeated!" Amae'An commanded, seeing Son'Tza attack brazenly, strength misplaced due to her new arm making her both over confident and uncoordinated.
B'ari used her sister's distraction to quickly strike her guard more left and swung her staff's under side out, striking Son'Tza in the mouth, turning her around in pain. A practice staff was actually much heavier than a staff weapon, and extremely weighty in comparison to the new Plasma Lances. Son'Tza's gums began to bleed, top lip split open and she spit blood on the practice mat, turned with fury in her eyes and began to strike back against B'ari with a roar of fury, mechanical limb's grip beginning to crack the practice weapon, and struck with such uncontrolled strength that B'ari was taken off guard and pushed to the ground.
"Son'Tza!" Amae'An stood up from her seat, and her yelling began to upset Adria who broke out in weeping soon after her order was heard. "You will engage in combat with a cool mind! Your sister struck you when you were distracted and the engagement hadn't been dismissed! A warrior's first distraction will be their last!"
Son'Tza quickly stopped, stood at attention towards her instructor and bowed, planting the staff in the ground. "Apologies, master."
"B'ari, good work. Go find a meal dispenser. Whatever you like. Son'Tza, you will practice every sequence I have taught you, and when I am satisfied, only then will you eat. Commence!" The younger child gave a short bow before running out of the room, the elder jaffa commanded the remaining junior, the later huffing before starting the first sequence of hits, blocks an foot movements to an invisible enemy on the opposing end of the mat which looked suspiciously like her little sister.
Adria's cries only increased the frustrations, but was silenced when Fenrir quickly reached down to her and picked her up from Amae'An's arms.
The two clansmen, Firstborn and Hybrid's eyes remained transfixed, Fenrir soothing her with simple telepathic communion, who in turn returned simpler images and emotions. Her abilities were far superior then he expected. The psionic connection was momentarily disconnected as Fenrir had to look away, eyes briefly flashing orange as emotion overwhelmed reason, heart swelling with pride before returning to normal and reconnecting with Adria who cooed appreciatively.
"The day goes well then?" Fenrir asked Amae'An.
"Better then the day before, my lord." Amae'An nodded and smiled, sitting down as quickly as she could, suddenly feeling her age. "I have heard that the all the old temples, all the priests and priestess within that did not surrender and forsake their gods, were burned."
Fenrir grimaced, "This… pleases you?"
"The temples always horded wealth, excused the goa'uld's 'divine' acts against us all. If anything, they deserved a slower death."
"Remind me not to get on your bad side." Fenrir chuckled dryly, before departing looking at the enraged Son'Tza, "Ral tora ke." Patting the chair she sat in, departing with Adria.
'Place go?' Adria telepathically inquired.
'Eat place.' He tried to explain, his thought explaining the Dispensary being a little too complex and confused her. 'Food place.' He tried again, more or less succeeding in conveying that he goes towards food. The Dispensary itself had a fairly limited selection, rationing being limited in fresh breads, fruits and meat from limited supply, while cereals and porridge being the main stay and freely consumed without restriction.
Agriculture was a primary concern of the Hierarchy currently, feeding the now bustling population of Toha-Rah, as was shifting a family focus to having many children, offering incentives with more spacious living environments, assistance at home with automata made specifically to the family and various other offers that help at home or the work environment. He needed a 'baby-boom' to increase the system's native born population as soon as possible, and the removal cultural taboo of having more than one son per family. Several of the council encouraged a limited form of polygamy, as there were far fewer males on the planet in ratio to the opposing gender, causing a massive gap of married and bachelors. This frustration continued to plague the council, with Fenrir himself willing to have polygamy to be officially legalized, he didn't wish to push the jaffa out of long kept traditions too fast, where marriage was always between a single pair of partners. He was hesitant to interfere, knowing that if he did would limit the natural problem solving process between the council members and make them increasingly dependent on either his opinion or intervention, which short term would be highly efficient. Long term wise? Potentially crippling of the Hierarchy's future twelve lords.
'What eat?' Adira inquired, breaking his train of thought.
Thankfully he smiled at her, 'Not for me. Feed you.' Sending the image of a thinned, bloody morsel and saw her eyes brighten, lips parting, showing several small incisors at the mid of both upper and lower jaws.
Hybrids, the natural born anyways, always had a voracious appetite. Being fed lightly cooked, bloody meat. A fair amount of her nutrients were no longer bound to the babe's nursing, being unbound to hunt smaller prey or being fed the hunt of larger game by the parents, like packs of predators to their offspring.
The Dispensary was a large room, filled with table, chairs and eight outlets at the back of the room, being able to dispense various food goods, taken directly from the place it was made through small teleportation pads, and if power was of concern, a series of tubes could safely transport food, but took a minute or two to arrive. Pushing in a button next to the image-representation of a 'cattle-cutlet', imputing his account code, the pad turned blue before the light was replaced by a raw piece of meat.
Taking to a table, he let Adria crawl on the table as he peeled a piece of meat off and she quickly crawled to it, wrapping fingers around one end as she fed the other into her mouth, suckling at the blood and eagerly tearing flesh, swallowing what she tore off easily.
She would be this voracious for months to come. Her body would mature to lower adulthood in half a year, but sexual maturity itself would have to wait five years. Good enough time between to the two to fully master one's fierce impulses.
All clansmen carried an organ, functioned very similarly to sweat or adrenal glands, save these were near constantly on, functioning as sensory modifiers, making everything… Fenrir couldn't quite explain it himself on a human level, even as he reclaimed a partial human sight with years of patience and control. The 'Manaka' Glands were responsible for staining of eye-color of the individual clan to the individual. Orange, his and Adria's, was very common. It made sight, feeling… engaging. Glaringly intense. The responses he and others gave those same stimuli being intensified as well, leading to several incidents of his youth he wished he forgot, either from embarrassment or full-fledged regret.
He was curious what Adria's eyes would look human. Whether they'd be blue like his own, or brown like her mothers. She's already inherited much from her as is, being of a lighter skin tone of her though still fairly darkened, with eyebrows and top of her head sprouting dark brown, almost black hair, something possibly of either of their ancestry. Though she still kept his active eyes, triplet slits of pupils barely indistinguishable from afar.
He clicked a rune on his wrist-guard. "Ha'Gael, what else is on the agenda today?"
"You were going to run final tests on the Explorer, take a small, skeleton crew and explore the nearby star Ymorin, take back a World Gate for use of Toha-Rah, then upon your return, decide what to do with the goa'uld prisoners in stasis." The World-Ship replied curtly.
"Ah yes! My thanks!" Fenrir snapped his fingers in recollection, then gave a telepathic signal to Adria, 'Want to go on a small adventure?' Fenrir smiled at his daughter.
It didn't have the desired affect, as she tilted her head and gave a confused response back, the thoughts unfortunately too complicated. He then sent the image of Amae'An and saw her brighten with a smile, sending back an image of B'ari with the sensation of affection and kinship.
'So you've taken to her or she's taken with you.' Fenrir thought to himself, seeing her quickly devour the last of her meal. Dispensing of the trash at the center of the table and taking Adria up again, escorting her back to Amae'An's care in his quarters.
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Fenrir settled into the Explorer's captain's chair, getting a sense of nostalgia, the bridge being replicated from the small, Contender-class frigate of the Clans piece by piece. Command was seated in the center, the chair elevated slightly, command crew were seated in small console-alcoves along the captain's chair, where further across the bridge against walls, doors and where the various other lesser staff and officers worked, going on about their duty of maintaining the ship.
The vessel was an 'beaked-tube', bulbous set of large engines at the rear, the main section extending forward until the end tapered to a beak that tapered down, holding most of the fore weapons and the command deck. Along the spine was a plasma cannon, the only confined weapon on the vessel that could not alter firing direction and also the most powerful, the other hull mounted phason torpedoes, lancer-point defense guns and heavy mass accelerators were on small turrets or self-guiding, even if a torpedo was launched from the fore, it could guide itself near instantly to the rear, not that it was necessary. This ship was not built for sustained combat, being equipped with a cloaking device, argon-shielding systems and three Wolf-Glider fighters, was a perfect long-range exploration or patrol craft, if properly outfitted. Right now, he had only the one glider in the cargo hold, as well as the entire arsenal of torpedoes being removed. He always wanted to be prepared, but if he was attacked, would be simpler if they just retreated to hyperspace, if they were discovered. Its small profile, in comparison to motherships at least, speedy engines and cloak could hold until the hyperspace tunneler recharged.
"Crimson-King." A deep voice boomed from the bridge's grounded speakers, metallic and positively apathetic in expression, "I am fully installed within the vessel, Ha'Gael has conveyed the mission required. Weapons, hyperspace, sensors, cloaking and shields are all fully operational. The rest of the crew is yet to arrive within the hour, where we will test engines then launch from the Space Elevator. I am Bokal, demi-mind fashioned from Ha'Gael to serve as this vessel's machine-intelligence."
Demi-minds being the half way point between metal-minds, multipurpose artificial intelligences or computers, and a true tool, confined to singular purposes. These semi metal-minds being focused on specific duties, kept in check by constraints of protocol and far, far 'stupider' then a full-fledged metal mind. Even the simpler metal-mind of the Tauri base was far more adaptable and capable of growth of use when compared to Bokal here.
He typed several runes into the command console on his chair, showing the sensor observation of nearby space, spying the space elevator constructed. Or most of it. The main section was still in orbit, automata working constantly to build enough of the bases, both in orbit and on the ground, to pull reliable graviton tethers and lifts together perfectly. People are relying on either VESs or Ha'Gael's transportation network to get from planetside to orbit.
Eventually, the ground base of the elevator will hold the system's world-gate, secure with an energy shield to deny possible hostiles, as well as a tracking system to perfectly pinpoint ring activation. While the World-Gate system will assist in instantaneous transportation across the galaxy, it will severely limit a focus on stellar fortification. He and his people will not be confined to limited to relying on a gate network that was pieced together by short-sighted, decadent Alterans, but currently he needed one to facilitate travel that requires little to no supplies, personnel and equipment, all three being severely lacking in the Hierarchy until everything comes together.
Not to mention, only the first-generation of World-Gates exist in the western galaxy, far less reliable then the more plentiful, main stray World-Gates, even without the nebulae in the area disrupting wormhole connections, but he needed to start somewhere simple.
"Warm up the engines, I want to head to the Ymorin star system as soon as all crew are aboard in half an hour, send them notification that any who do not arrive on time will be left behind and severely punished." Fenrir looked towards the screen, "Display the Ymorin star system on the viewer, give status of planets, populations and resources."
"Yes, lord." Bokal confirmed emotionlessly, the main screen at the front of the bridge showing a plain system map of Ymorin. It highlighted that its single gas-giant had an impressive possible mass of Helium-3, something that could assist with higher production of cold-fusion power, whether it was in armor, cities or ships. The planets between it were barren, cold, but likely had accessible, more mundane materials for mining. Ymorin-Five, on the edge of Ymorin's star's life zone, was cold by all the livable standards of the planets in the Ix'Zary system. It had several, small, roaming populations towards the poles, most greenery, flora, fauna, and the bodies of the human populations being constrained to the equator. Two oceans, four continents, and innumerable islands, most being encrusted in ice.
"Population of humans is unknown from probe scans. Number possibly three million across the globe, but precise estimates unknown. Pre-industrial development, no baser forms of long-range communication, no nuclear or electrical elements detected that appear man made. World-Gate found in population center of equator. Burn-Stone scans negligible. No presence of goa'uld or jaffa structures recognized in archives." Bokil explain. "Theorized that humans were left in isolation due to extreme cold and limited burn-stone in system, as well as no technological development that could threaten the goa'uld."
Fenrir grimaced, "Will likely have to barter for the ring. While possible it's still buried, could also be held in religious or cultural esteem." He had much to offer, but he needed this World-Gate as soon as possible. "Notify Ha'Gael to transfer several consutructors, enough Burn-Stone to empower three small, safe reactors for several years and schematics of the most basic insulation, electrical engineering and what else is needed to improve a primitive, extreme cold society on Ha'Gael's recommendation." He then pinged the console to teleport some of his personal effects, a few things he sorted out from one of Ha'Gael's storerooms. He'll attempt to negotiate from an even table, on land and walking to the city by foot and attempt to trade from there.
He wished the information was forwarded beforehand, however. He didn't even consider a colder climate. "Kanyto, do you receive?"
"Yes, my lo- Fenrir." She hastily replied. "In the armory. I am preparing several Spearguns for the party to follow you, though I would enjoy it if Ha'Gael could have forged us a Rol'Na. We do not know of these primitives capabilities."
"Ah, I suggest you focus your attention on finding both of us something warm to wear. We're not invading the people, we desire to form an accord and trade. They'll be intimidated by anything so… overt. Do you know how to use a sword?"
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"Ix-Chel has fallen? From idiotic, rabble, vengeance fueled jaffa?" The red-headed goa'uld chuckled, "Wonderful. Might as well take the rest of her territory. Why settle for the outermost scraps?"
The Raven-Headed jaffa First-Prime nodded to his goddess, "Shall I relay orders to the ships to scout ahead of these systems? Ix-Chel was quite militant, some forces may be left even after her demise."
"Do so. These foolish westerling goa'uld will prove ripe for conquest, the Crone's expansion has left many desolated worlds in her wake." She shook her head and spoke to herself, "Allowed herself to get killed by jaffa. Pathetic."
The First-Prime bowed at the shoulder before departing the deck of the Ha'Tak that was fashioned into the goa'uld's quarters. She clicked her fingers to the nearby human-slave, whom quickly took a knee at her throne, and asked, "What is your will?"
"Send for a small group of jaffa to use a Tel'Tak, find the system Ix-Chel fell, collect any information you can and then return, how many ships, troops, did they get help from a goa'uld, absolutely any information."
"Yes, my lord Morrigan." The goa'uld spotted the momentary hesitation as he recalled the rule of referring to Morrigan as a lord, queen or goddess. Never lady. She flogged the last fool to death who spoke that in reference to her. Standing back up and striding towards one of the ring-teleporters leading to the surface of the world beneath them. One of the handful that Morrigan herself controlled, though has a few unwilling vassals nearby, but hopes that the coming war will assure her the title of System Lord.
Though, a part of her knew that was less of a concern of the agenda, what she really desired was more soldiers, weapons, anything at all. Sokar was breathing down the throats of the entire goa'uld empire, having been emboldened by Ra's death and now Apophis's capture.
[][][
Uunathwan, bright season, fifth day.
"Jah! Get your lazy ass over here! We need the wheat out of the caravan and back on the road by midday!" Jah's uncle ordered as he ordered his nephew out from a very shallow sleep. Grogily forcing himself to remove his arm that was covering his eyes from the light, but hissed and rolled onto his front. He groaned, batted his head against the wooden deck of the cart, where someone then pulled the tarp he was hiding under, snow falling off it and onto him, "Hell!" He cursed wiping the fluffy precipitation off him and looked at the one who insulted him from denying him his warm-up out of bed ritual.
"Brother." Deep brown, almost black, eyes looked up at Jah, framed by brown hair flicked with spots of yellow and white, nearer to the center of the head. "Get moving now, or uncle will beat both of us."
"Pah!" Jah scoffed, "Just me. He likes you, Ngoml." Seeing his younger brother roll his eyes before slapping his boot as he departed.
"No more ale for a week, if this is what we are to work with in the morning." Ngoml warned, making Jah instantly sit up, get off the cart and rush past him and take hold of the nearest bag of wheat he could find.
"Good boy!" A tall, bald, portly man with a black beard, more frizzy then bushy, that stretched to the center of his chest declared, "Might actually work your worth today! It's only a couple hours walk to Qwol. Get this village what they paid for and I'll pay for the first round for everyone!" He declared, making the workers give a short cheer as they unloaded and took up various supplies that they were paid for by the council here or traded for raw materials that could sell higher in the city.
"Traga?" A tall and quite muscular woman with short black hair, Vitha, asked the caravan driver, "What about the rumors? I think we should just take our capital and head back south."
"Well, then it's a good thing you're not paid for what you think. You'd be broke." Traga waved a dismissive hand at her, "The Oskirk wouldn't have gotten an army all the way here without Debin or at least Yukop seeing something and calling for help. Why would they ignore the easier targets and head inland? Its hog wash." Smiling to his underling, "Don't worry. Get back to work, alright?"
Vitha sighed and nodded, "Yessir." Going back to load up the bartering tables they set up a few days ago.
When she was a few paces away, he dropped the smile. Honestly, he was beyond worried. Traga knew several officers in the autarch's army, and they've told him that the Oskirk as well as a few other tribes have been pushing against patrols, the ones they know about at least. The outer cities know how to hold against them. What about Uunathwan? Protected by the outer kingdoms and republics for so long may have made them soft if the wastemen grew bold enough to attempt to plunder this place and others close by.
That's why, as soon as the second morning unfurls, he's going to get a completely surprising warning that Tolp to the south has run a standing bounty for any caravan that could get there fastest with as many goods as they could carry. Traga would be absolutely shocked and excited for sure.
As Jah strode to his uncle's side carrying a massive sack, Jah asked, "Were we carrying visitors?"
Traga looked to the older nephew of his, "What do you mean?"
"A couple of strangers are asking for directions. Just two. No one else. We would've seen a column or another caravan if these two just got here. Barley can speak Yaf. Might wanna check it out." He grinned from ear to ear as he whispered, "The woman is quite the looker. I called dibs, so no ideas, old man." Walking to the village with his cargo.
Traga scoffed, "Get your head out of your ass boy! I better not catch you slacking when I come back!"
Jah waved back at him, smiling cheekily.
Traga looked up the caravan and followed the commotion to the newcomers.
The man was remarkably pale, paler then he's ever seen a man, quite tall and carried blue eyes. His features were sharp, and he had almost completely yellow hair.
The other, a woman, was only a couple niches shorter then he was, grey of hair despite her incredibly youthful appearance, skin more like the peoples in the area but carried a more reddened tone to it as if cooked by a fire and eyes of bright brown, almost as yellow as the man's head.
They both carried no marks of a city amidst heavy coats and robes of what was definitely not fur, leather or wool, smooth like plate steel yet flexible like any clothing, but did carry a bulk that muddled their body shapes past height.
The man spoke, "Gahh… uh got little clues on roads. Wish to find big ring. Is on city? Do look? Open to walks?" He spoke in quick bursts and thought pauses.
"Woof, nearly as pretty as the woman here! A couple more days on the road and I would have con-", One of Traga's men replied to him before the Traga himself declared:
"Oi! Back to work all of ya! If I want ya to talk to 'em, I'll get ya! Back at it!" Making the group disperse quickly, terrified of the consequences of their harsh caravan master. He walked up to the outsiders, and the man smiled gladly at him while the woman stared harshly at him and his hands before she looked around, watching the people nearby like a hawk.
"Who are you two and why are you here?"
"Apology." The man stated, "I… no practice with words with… Yaf. Little time and back will be." Pressing a hand to his chest, "Fenrir." Then gesturing to his accomplice, "Kanyto.", whom briefly looked back to the man at the saying of her name.
'Well, least they're not lying about the names. Or are real good at lying.' Traga thought. He looked over Fenrir, then noted the small grip coming out of the back of his right on his waist. "What do you have there, boy?"
Fenrir looked briefly confused before he smiled and declared, "Ah! Yes! Sword for hunts." Taking the short sword, still in sheathed, and allowing Traga to view it fully. Traga had to blink twice at its odd design, it seemed two sided, but the point was missing leaving only a flat 'head' at the end of the blade. It was a hammered bronze, but unusually smooth and organic that belied its texture, the scabbard a dark red, and the handle itself was fairly long, enough for two hand, the end having a flat, hammer like end. "I kill beast, I make sword." Putting it back, "Kanyto has bigger. God big. Could not bring. Would frighten all like child." He laughed and saw Kanyto fidget uncomfortably.
"Why are you here?" Traga repeated, patience running thin from the lack of communication skills of the new party. "Call me paranoid, but I'd also like to know where you're from."
"Ah, am from…" He looked distant as he tried to find the word, "Very far away. Much warmer there. Already missed."
"Shit, really? Even in this season?" Jah spoke as he walked to Traga's flank. "Can you take me and my brother with you? I got a strong back and good with my hands." Looking to Kanyto as he explained. "I'll even work for less then I get from this bas-" Getting smacked in the back of the head by his uncle.
Fenrir found it less then ideal to question the act and looked to the uncle, continuing with, "Am to city to find big ring. I hear it here in city. Would like to buy."
Traga's rage was momentarily scorched as he tried to hold back laughter from what the stranger just said. "What? Buy the Sacred Ring? Are you an idiot?"
Fenrir was taken aback, "No fool. Very good pockets. Would like-"
"The Ring is not only in the prince's palace, it is guarded by the Church of Jahagol's Templars. Those guys would barely tolerate an outsider breathing in the same room with the Ring, let alone stroll in…" Taking his finger and thumb and squeezing them, "pick it up, then leave the city. Coin or no coin, the only way to take the Ring is to burn the city to the snow around the blasted object."
"Though if I was guarding it, I'd know how you could bribe me." Jah recovered and presented his fist out towards Kanyto, "Jah of Bnin, son of Olgar. How can I please you?"
Jah expected the man to get defensive over what he presumed was his woman, but didn't expect him to laugh out loud in his face.
Kanyto asked Fenrir, her language completely unknown to the natives here, "Did this… mosquito say anything I should kill him for?"
Fenrir shrugged, looked to Kanyto, smiling, "Depends. If I was you, likely not, though not sure how I would react to an advance if I was the woman." He circled with his hand, "I'd say no, for the sake of your pride."
Kanyto grimaced and gave a small, spiteful glare as Fenrir turned back, her gaze turning menacing as it returned to Jah, fist still presented. She decided to try and appease Fenrir and quickly tapped his fist with her own.
The effort was a little greater then she anticipated, Jah shaking his fist lightly in pain. "Wow, you two really aren't from around here."
'Far too civilized to be spies sent from the Oskirk.' The lack of threats, huffing, puffing, stomping and cursing was a firm element of this. 'Could be spies from elsewhere. Nearby nation perhaps? Can't pin the accent down, and these clothes, they look more fit for a noble then secretive rabble.' "Jah, get the sacks off to the village. Now."
His nephew knew from experience that when Traga ordered in a more quiet tone, it was now infinitely more serious. Even he didn't wish to tempt fate in this, his smile fading and went into a light jog to dispensing cargo.
Traga looked to the man, "My name is Traga, of Sogol, son of Oriph. I lead this trading caravan, and am allowed within the city." He pointed at Fenrir, "I will allow you to come with use for five gold. Immediately."
'Idiot.' He cursed himself, 'I think I worded 'wealth' wrong.' He only had on him the small samplings of Hierarchy currency. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the five pieces of gold circles, as well as the same number of silver, copper and two ducats. The currency fit into his palm neatly as he pulled it out and presented it to the man.
Traga looked skeptically, taking a piece of gold and silver, biting them and trying to bend them. Satisfied with the result he gestured with his chin, "What are these then?" Taking up a square ducat. "What will these get me?" Running a finger across the laser inscriptions of the wolf in the center and code at the bottom, impressed with its fine precision.
"Here? Not sure." Fenrir shrugged, "Where I come from; a great deal. Three more… ducats… and many goods from home."
Considering the craftsmanship of both the 'ducat' and what is on their forms, he considered it an even trade, even if the gold and silver coins were not of traditional value of currency between the cities of the area, they were still gold and silver, worth their weight in and of themselves.
He nodded, "Fine then. We will leave soon. You get the cart in the back. Lady," Looking to Kanyto, "if Jah makes any further advances, you may break two bones of his. Don't make them too vital." Leaving them where they stood and yelling at some of his crew, to hasten their efforts, "Time is wealth, whelps! Move it!"
"What did the bearded one say to me?" Kanyto inquired as she followed Fenrir to the rear of the line of hooded carts.
"Uh, if the mosquito bugs again, you may…" He irked his smile into a wry line, "Dispatch him at your leisure, but don't kill or cripple him."
[][][]
Hassir groaned, leaving the small capsule, the Quickening still running through her veins, her head aching like a sharp, glowing iron prod was slowly digging into through the center of her skull. The flashing images and audio the learning capsule forced upon her didn't lessen the symptoms, as much as inflaming them. She was given a break, as long as she desires, for water, food and easing her eyes, then she was to be tested in if what she was instructed at such a rapid pace had stuck. The last session, before she is relieved, and may fully rest. Uneasily walking to a large jar of water in the back of the chamber, pacing past other capsules in the room that have been emptied, being surrounded by other jaffa who have recently been released as well, cups dipping into the jar and swallowing cupful after cupful, the accelerant taking a higher toll then simple pains, sapping most moisture and nutrition from them.
These usually brief breaks were often met only with famished silence, all concentration had in devouring the bowls of porridge and barrels of water. This, was met by smiles, relief, and the occasional chuckle and slap on the shoulder trying to keep a fellow nearby from drifting to a standing sleep.
Hassir thought briefly of the tax that would be levied against a human's body when one takes these courses. Only briefly. Her thoughts focused on the reflection in the large, clay drum of life giving moisture. The sigil just above the bridge of her nose was gone, the three-peaks of Ka-Palor, gone. She has had the mark for as long as she can remember. Now, in its place was nothing. Only she existed.
"Lord Hassir?" A man to her right asked calmly, the voice foreign to her, a part of him appearing in just the periphery of the water's reflection. Turning, the first thing she noted in place of the marking that was now void upon herself and many others, the man still had one. Not of peaks, not of the crone, but of a dart, knife or sword of some kind, extremely simple point, blade and end, all through a half circle, the tip peaking at the bottom of the curve, the mark was white against dark skin. He looked young, slightly older then Kanyto for sure, scars clawing from his chin to his right brow, three of them. The last, and possibly worst thing she noticed, was his eyes. Blue, rare in this area, darker of hue when compared to Fenrir's, but the worst oddity was when she looked into them, they were dull, even as she gazed into them, nothing, not even her, reflected back. His robes were heavy, even in the sweltering heat, and hid most of his mass especially around his shoulders and back.
"Not for much longer." Hassir spoke to the newcomer, dropping the cup into the barrel, another jaffa greedily supping from it anew. "Temporary lord of the army. Who are you?"
"My name is unimportant, call me Grigh'hori." The man explained. "I and… several other prominent jaffa desire your thoughts on a matter, something that would be best spoken of in more private conditions." Gesturing to a nearby door. It led out of the instruction chamber, to a hall, the door guarded by Apex warriors.
Hassir remained skeptical, "Be brief. I have little time for people with no name."
He gave a slight nod in thanks, following her out of the door, ignoring the guard as soon as it closed. "Ah, much better. Do not worry of these two warriors, they've already heard me speak enough as is."
"Get on with it. You're interrupting my recovery meal."
"I and several notable jaffa are in the process of making a special group." He spoke candidly, but veiled of reason, "We are placing resources, people and information into this group in order for it to serve, to its fullest, the strength and influence of all jaffa."
Hassir's eyebrow quirked, "Ahhh, a political group then? Odd that you come-"
"It is as much more than political, it is more… functional, lord." Grigh'hori interrupted, "We are called Claymore. A force of jaffa, made to serve jaffa. Whether it be our siblings here or those still under tyranny of the goa'uld, we will make certain that the jaffa become a true force in this galaxy."
She glared at him, "Claymore? A military group? Outside of the command structure of the Hierarchy?" She waved a dismissive hand, "To publically announce my support, then trust that you do what duty you claim? Moronic to say the least."
"Then do not proclaim. Heh, in fact we would appreciate it more if you did not."
Hassir nearly growled, "I do not enjoy what you are alluding to. A secret group, with people with no name, needing my support? Getting warriors and materials without the military, for the moment my military, not knowing? Trickery of this degree is for goa'uld, broaching of godhood so thin, it could be ripped with a breeze of wind."
"Indeed? Very well." Grigh'hori shrugged, sounding not in the least bit disappointed, "If you change your mind, draw this…" Tapping on the mark upon his head, "Get some chalk and make this upon your dwelling's door. It need not be perfect. We will understand its meaning." Beginning his walk down the hall, "We will be watching, temporary lord."
Hassir's eyes blazed with insult, looking to the nearest guard at the wall, "You! I want to turn your armor's memory to a scanner! Find this man!"
The warrior did not reply, nor did the other.
Hassir reached for the chest piece of the warrior, "Your lord has-" The armor, woman inside within it, fell to the ground as soon as she touched her, and out of the helm came a river of blood.
This Grigh'hori killed these two warriors, then somehow stilled their armor so they stood, all without firing a weapon and keeping the women at attention.
][][][]
Uunath
"The place stinks worse than the Capital did." Kanyto commented as they walked down a stone and wooden laden street, crowded with people, stalls and the coming convoy.
Fenrir looked curiously at her, "I was under impression that you were only on Ix'Zary during the invasion."
She shook her head, "I was at the city for a time, nearly a month. It was several weeks before Ix-Chel's invasion came to the system and many jaffa fled to Hijin."
"What was the reason then? Slumming it?" He chuckled.
Kanyto rolled her eyes, "I was looking for my father."
He blinked, "I assumed he was dead."
"You are correct." The jaffa discipline managed to creep in, Fenrir noticing the sudden clenching of the jaw, her facial expression becoming rigid, muscles constrained even as lips moved as she continued to explain, "He was dying of a wasting disease. Half-breeds are more susceptible to diseases and weaknesses then humans, but are too physically human for the jaffa womb to work effectively, and still have the jaffa trait of being resistant to goa'uld infestation. Mix breeds are condemned, in the eyes of goa'uld, for very good reasons." She shrugged as the pair passed a roudy pub, the stench of burnt bread and alcohol wafting out. "We managed to commune. Enough for me to weep when he soon passed. He was a good man. I…" She looked down, distracted, "Regretted not knowing him longer."
Kanyto was brought out of her small stupor when he felt Fenrir's hand clench firmly on her shoulder. He nodded to her, "Regrets. I wish I could honor the man that, despite the terrain, made a wonder in a wretched landscape." He then slapped the shoulder in a friendly manner, and smiled, "Come! Let us see this palace. The sooner we make a deal, the sooner we can sample the local spirits, see if this a world worth coming back to."
Kanyto was momentarily dazed, before forcing her duty to the fore and ignoring the sudden hot-cold shock from Fenrir's words. "Y-Yes, my lord."
Fenrir chuckled dryly, "I assume it's that one." Pointing at the stone-building that dwarfed all other buildings in sight. Not nearly as unsightly as the palace Fenrir saw demolished and his own domain being erected upon its ashes, but was fundamentally lacking in renovations, with outer walls crumbling, inefficient looking lookouts, and rough wooden, hastily made structures leaning off the building like tumors, warts or what blights that would plague the appearance as much as the function. "The city must have sprung around the place, while it was designed to be a singular fortification or military staging point."
"I still say we come here with at least a cabal." Kanyto suggested. "We do little in the way of showing our superiority or what we can offer if we wander into this city like vagrants."
"These people are not jaffa." He looked to her, "Even if they were, strength of arms and sophisticated weaponry can only earn so much respect. We must show that we are not just representatives of a foreign domain, but one that shows it is willing to walk on the same ground as its people, shoulder to shoulder."
"It's too easy for a rogue to stick a knife in when they are shoulder to shoulder, as you said."
"Quite, but we are not worms. We honor risk, especially if it's needed for highest efficiency and for those who would be partners or members of the Hierarchy to know that while our paths may be different, we are all people of reason."
The walk to the lowered bridge, lying over a moat of all things, they were instantly beset by a trio of guards. Two were in plate armor, steel from the looks of it, but mostly consisted of fur and leather, and in their hands they carried spears as long, if not longer, they were tall but the third, the captain of them it looked like, wore a large, hat that had the head of a snarling feline creature, spear replaced by a sword at his hip, hand on its grip while he extended a hand out at the approaching pair and yelled, "Halt!" The other two soldiers marching on the man's flank, back several paces, optimizing the range of their weapon while still being in proximity to cover their leader.
Fenrir's language digestion was coming on smoothly, if forcibly so. His mind turned over new words with understood definitions, holding up his hands, "We will comply. We seek your leader, master or lord. I wish to initiate peaceful trade between our peoples."
"Where do you hail?"
"A land a long distance away, called Ix'Zary. May I please speak to the one who can authorize trade for what I offer? 'Tis the first time our respective kinds make contact, a higher official or lord would be most appreciated."
[][][]][[
Mamwe's eyes stared at the city, his band having gathered at the cusp of a hill, preparing for the attack. "Looks like a new caravan. More plunder and spoils." He told his lieutenant.
"Gargin will be here in half a day to support-"
"I won't wait for that stunted little dog to take a single sheaf of grain! We strike now! Get the steeds ready!"
[][][]
Prince Vashes hastily struggled with his belt, still amateur in skill with dressing himself with a single arm. Refusing attendants who offered to assist him, he was quickly ushering himself out of his room, little more than half dressed in his formal armor, having difficulty clenching the brace-tie around his neck.
"Sire, we have to check your eye! Make certain it does not get-!" A short, squirrelly medical attendant, detached from the Coalition's remedial platoon nearby.
"I'll not be killed from a disease that has not been treated in but a sprinkling of hours. You will attend to me later, annoy somebody else in the meantime." Vashes dismissed the squirrel with a cyclopean glare.
"Sire." He bowed slightly before scampering off in the opposite direction.
As the prince quickly walked down a plain set of stone stairs that led down to an extravagant gold and crimson in color hall, adorned with both tapestries and gold encrusted gas-lights, a fully armored sergeant came out of one of the nearby rooms. "Talg!" The prince exclaimed with a smile. "Tell me about these outsiders! I must give them thanks for giving the excuse to deny the shifty medical official from fucking my vacant eye socket with that oil-scented phallus of his!"
Talg of Kur, Son-of-None (though most are fairly convinced that the man was belched from the womb of the Sea of Frost itself), gave a curt nod, his equivalency of a jovial smile, "Sire. There are two, they claim to be from a place called Ix'Zary and offer a great boon of some kind and promise of trade. I do not like the eyes of the man." He gestured to the door he came out of, "They carry a… spark of ferocity. Barbarity. They maybe some kind of wastelanders."
"If they can talk in complex words and did not kill anyone on the way here, they probably aren't." Finally satisfied with his uniform, he sighed, "How do I look?"
Talg looked the prince up and down, "Half blind. Fashion-wise. But acceptable, sire." He jibed plainly.
Vashes scoffed a puff of slightly bruised ego out of his nose, but still smiled, "Watch yourself, Sergeant. I can still kick your ass with only one arm." Opening the door for the prince.
[][][]
As soon as the man walked into the room, Fenrir was able to easily detect surface thoughts, laced with his emotions, it all refreshingly open compared to the jaffa he had to contend with on the three day journey from Ix'Zary to Ymorin. He stood up with his seat, Kanyto mirroring him not a second after and he smiled, "Ah! Prince Vashes! Glad to make your acquaintance!"
"Yes, yes, you're from a faraway land and desire trade?" He snapped his fingers, a scribe rushing forward with a bone-pen and parchment. "What do you want? How far is your land? Do others of the Coalition trade or are aware of you? I do not enjoy dallying with a project that you could have solved by going to the city's Trader Guild."
Kanyto whispered, "We can crash the VES through the window. That would certainly gain some deference."
"We are not doing that." Fenrir whispered back, eyes darting between the massive sets of stained windows and the prince, "Yet." Switching back to the native tongue, "I desire the Sacred Ring. In exchange, I will offer you and your kind the benefits and secrets of personal-power-generation." Regretting that there was no word for 'electricity' in their vocabulary.
"Yet another piss-seller. What is this 'personal-power-generation'? And why is it worth more than my people's heritage?"
'Now, we begin the impressing.' Fenrir clicked on a communicator on his wrist, "Rahim? Window. Show off, stationary hover. Deactivate cloak, kick on one of the plasma engines and turn off stealth-silence. Give the people a bit of noise. I'll try to get them to the roof, you can unload the automata and materials from there."
The blocky VES quickly materialized out of the vision of the prince, and as soon as the loud plasma jet blared, the prince and the guard quickly ducked their head and pointed at the window.
Fenrir gave a sharp hand chop to his neck to the pilot, the plasma jet turning off. Gesturing to the vehicle outside, "This is what you can make with what I offer, if you're well practiced!"
The prince was immensely intrigued, despite his guard's reservations, after everything quieted down.
It took some explaining on how what Fenrir was trading, not giving him, was the building blocks that could eventually lead to similar creations. As if Fenrir was teaching him and his people how to make and lay bricks for a shelter, kiln or what not.
The prince was intrigued by the idea of 'electricity', being able to heat thousands of homes with just some lengths of cord, several 'heating coils', a few power-modules to insure stable, safe flow of this energy to where it is needed, then a reactor. That, through experimentation and innovation, by their own hands, they could equal or eventually surpass the construct Fenrir summoned out of what seemed to be thin air.
As the group made to the roof of the massive castle made palace, Prince Vashes explained several aspects of the world's society, with a majority of the nearby republics, kingdoms and city-states such as his own being drawn in a confederation of cooperation and mutual defense, called the Middle-Coalition, as most of these nations are focused on the equator and require a great deal of coordination in order to defend against vicious assaults from the eastern empires, the wasteland raiders from the frozen lands north and south, and the zealots of the second continent, willing to butcher the men, women and children of this coalition in the name of their deities.
No signs of goa'uld presence, and a world that already has a focus on more individualistic attitudes, rather than the more primitive, collective aspects reserved only for the most primal ways of sapient function.
It was also explained that the World-Gate was a key focus of the people's faiths on this land, Fenrir did note the occasional small-ring tattoo or pendants. That, when Uunathwan was once a mighty empire, generations ago, took the ring from the Second Continent. To Fenrir, this was a massive inconvenience; a Control Module for a World-Gate was almost as valuable as the damned ring itself, and making a replacement would not only be an extreme tax of resources and time, but also due to the likely fact it still exists in possibly hostile terrain, to plague them later if they ever discovered its use and its relationship to the ring. He couldn't just demonstrate the gate's use, take them to a random backwater and come back, point proven, trade for the ring and eventually come back with another to replace the one they lost.
Breaking down the World-Gates use and what it was actually used for was no easy task, taking Fenrir two days for Vashes to merely doubt his theological stand-point and contemplate the possibility of other worlds, greener, plentiful and full of other humans like himself existed. The guards, more religious faculty then military, were tempted to attack for the blasphemies he dared corrupt the prince with, but was stopped by the prince's warrior, Talg, every time. Which was a pleasant surprise, while he doubted Fenrir's authenticity, he was willing to question or at least, allow others to question and not seem overtly opposed.
Though somewhat secular, the people of these lands carried the faith of their gods and prophets close to their hearts. To disregard it and disprove its authenticity could be considered insulting, in the least, and Fenrir understood this, more then he wished.
"Do you not believe in any gods then?" Vashes asked, a sour, desperate tone to his voice. "Do you not desire a higher power, guiding you in this life to the next?"
Fenrir tried not to crack a joke about any 'higher powers'. "The only higher powers I know of killed billions of people to assure their position in this reality, and even now, are blistered and tumored with vanity, pride and apathy that plagued them in their mortal coils. I worship, if it can be called that, the Eternals. Three aspects of reality that branch into its infinite complexes: creation, change and destruction, all circling, feeding, and in harmony with one another, coveted only because they exist in all things; big, small, mortal, immortal, living, non-living. Every atom of existence, even time, is connected to all three. But if a temple is desired to pray for these things and understand the blessings they have given you, you'd need only a mirror: the iron in your blood was once the matter that burned in the brightest stars. The air you breathe is part of a world, through hell and fire, struggled to become what it is now, knowing the fury of the universe at the moments of its childhood and adolescence, billions of years before the air that is in your lungs became tangible enough to support any life at all, past its simplest of forms."
These meager explanations of what and who Fenrir was, mangaged to soften the prince somewhat. He's invested so much faith and emotion into not only the people who broached his beliefs, but in the hopes that the injuries that inflict him, the pain and suffering of centuries untold meant something, that it had a plan that would see all people, at the end of it, enlightened and fulfilled.
"Then come with us." Fenrir offered.
Vashes blinked, "What?"
"Come visit my world. You may take a detachment of guards if you feel it necessary, but we will leave the automata to do their work, you come to my world with the World-Gate and see what the land I come from holds. No plan, divine or otherwise, matters beyond what you, yourself, create. So allow me to help you in making it."
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