DISCLAIMER: Concurrent with fair dealing clauses of the Copyright Act (R.S.C., 1985, c. C-42) of Canada and fair use clauses in copyright legislation in other nations, this is a work that was created solely for entertainment purposes. Furthermore, it is posted freely on the Internet without expectation or requirement of remuneration.
The End of the Circus: A Tale of the Yizibajohei
Side Story: Out of the Past
by Regina Mafia, Fred Herriot and Dr. Tempo
Edited by Rose Ash
Based on characters and situations from Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, written by Seth Grahame-Smith; Kantai Collection, created by Kadokawa Games; Rome, created by John Milius, William J. MacDonald and Bruno Heller; Urusei Yatsura, created by Takahashi Rumiko; Mahō Shōjo Madoka Magika, created by Urobuchi Gen, Shaft and Aniplex; normalman, created by Jim Valentino; and Stargate SG-1, created by Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner.
Also including characters and situations from Urusei Yatsura: The Senior Year, created by Mike Smith and Fred Herriot.
Somewhere...
What is this?! What is happening...?!
Those were the first thoughts to cross the mind of the woman born as Kleopátra VII Philopátōr on regaining consciousness, finding herself in a strange chamber with a see-through cover, that withing a darkened hall built of a mysterious metal she couldn't recognize. Considering that, she then wondered why she hadn't slipped into the realms of Hades; after all, she gladly allowed a poisonous asp to bite her so she could join her beloved Marcus Antonius in the next life, he having killed himself in the wake of his defeat at the hands of Gaius Octavius near Áktion. Yet the vast space outside the coffin-like object she was lying in didn't seem like any version of the fields of Ēlýsion she understood.
A strange hissing noise then made the last monarch of the final dynasty that ruled ancient Egypt for centuries tense before she blinked as she felt the clear hard material keeping her within this sarcophagus-like construct lift away, allowing a fresh breeze to flood her nostrils. Hesitantly, the beautiful dusky-skinned woman appearing to be about nineteen or so lifted herself out of the device she had woken within, planting her feet on a cool yet not uncomfortable floor; covering her body was a grey form-fitting dress that only allowed her head and hands to remain clear. Once she was fully erect, she blinked before looking around to take in all the very unfamiliar surroundings while one hand rubbed the fabric cloaking her other arm, the completely alien feel of the material making her scowl...
"«What are you doing?!»"
Crying out in shock, the raven-haired queen spun around to see what seemed to be a Nubian to her, dressed akin to something like the guards that protected her while she lived in her palace...even if the spear-like device now being levelled at her didn't have any recognizable sharp point. Before she could demand what was going on — she did understand his words as some type of ancient patois spoken by her subjects — she then tensed as a wave of something washed through her from the obvious guard's direction, indicative of his clear displeasure at her actions.
"«Why are you not in that pod, Ra'kalach?!»" he demanded, levelling the walnut-shaped end of his spear at her face as it opened, an ominous glow emerging from with. "«Get back in there NOW...!»"
Her hand shot up to bat away the weapon, she thanking her lovers for teaching her some self-defence moves. The guard's eyes went wide at her burst of speed, then lunged over to snare her hand.
That was a mistake.
Both people yelped as Cleopatra felt her mind plunge right into the guard's very SOUL, he stumbling enough to make her force him onto the floor, her free hand slapping his spear well out of his reach...
...two bizarre vehicles engaged in battle against Nyx's night, such dotted by many twinkling stars...
The guard screamed as he tried to force her away from him, she tightening her grip on his hand as her free hand slammed down on his face to bash him into the floor and stun him...
...numerous people with pointed ears lying either dead or wounded in hallway somewhere, the guard and his friends moving to slay the latter group with strange light-like energy blasts from their spears...
He howled as he felt his very soul being laid bare by the queen's mental onslaught, that causing something in his abdomen to stir under the light cloth of his tunic...
...the guard and his companions smiling on seeing dozens of sarcophagus-like chambers with clear covers, each bearing what appeared to be women dressed in the same type of full-body covering...
She screamed as she sensed whatever it was surging out from the guard's body punch through his tunic, revealing a snake/eel-like being with THREE jaws and wing-like forearms moving to bite her...
...one of the women the guard and his friends had taken from the other people being HER...!
Cleopatra snared the creature and pulled to keep it away from her, yanking same out of the guard's body. As he howled in agony from that act, she felt her mind plunge into the creature's own soul...
...born of a living god...
...born to conquer...
...bonded to a slave to be carried within his body until it was time for it to seize its own host body...
The last queen of Egypt hissed as her free hand literally CRUSHED the creature's head with a show of strength no man she ever met in her lifetime could possibly equal! The guard jolted as if he was struck by Zeus' own lightning, he sensing his precious prim'ta be squashed by Cleopatra's hand while his own body began to shut down from the severed bond that had kept him alive and well. As she gazed in wide-eyed yet understandable confusion at him, he felt his vision ominously darken.
"«The legends were true...»" he rasped as his heart seized up. "«To sin against...the...Ra'kalach...»"
Silence fell as a final rattled breath escaped him, his body going slack as his spirit fled. Gazing upon the dead guard's now-tranquil face, Cleopatra uttered a quiet prayer to see the brave and loyal man's soul carried off to whatever his version of Elysium was within the realms of Hades. Slowly rising to her feet, she then looked behind her before blinking in shocked recognition on seeing the many other chambers like the one she had woken in lining both sides of this chamber...
A chamber...
...within a great pyramid of all things that flew throughout Nyx's dark heavens...
...far, FAR beyond the bounds of Mother Gaia herself...
...far, FAR beyond the soothing light of Apollo's bright sun...
Shaking her head as she tried not to scream out at the torrent of information her very mind absorbed from the guard and his serpentine symbiote — realizing she was now in a situation that no philosopher of her time period could EVER begin to conceptualize! — Cleopatra shook her head as her mind focused on one bit of knowledge that she gained: How to open the other chambers bearing their precious cargo. With that, she moved to examine the one sitting directly beside hers...
...before she blinked in curious surprise on noting how PALE this particular woman was, blessed with hair the shade of rich soil that flowed past her shoulders. At first thinking this woman to be of the mysterious Celts who had pressed south against the northern reaches of Macedonia where her ancestors had emerged to conquer the known world over three centuries before her birth, the queen then shook her head as her hand slammed down on the red button by the other woman's elbow.
"I'm not sure what's going on..." Cleopatra muttered as she watched the other woman's dark blue-grey eyes opened, "...but I need to find a way off this Hades be-damned ship...!"
"Cher Dieu...je suis vivant...?"
Hearing that odd speech, the queen considered something before she reached out with her hand in offering. Noting that as she tried not to stop and gape in wide-eyed confusion at her current surroundings — this certainly was NOT the Place de Grève in Paris' fourth arrondissement where she was to confront Madame Guillotine after her pre-meditated murder of that maniac Marat over a week ago — she nodded her thanks at the Arabic-like woman's offer to help, then grasped her hand...
Both cried out as their minds instantly locked with the other's, memories from two lifetimes separated by EIGHTEEN CENTURIES of time instantly flooding the other woman's souls. As the last queen of Egypt and one of the victims of the Terror watched each other's very LIVES play before their mind's eyes, something else awoke in them. That made Marie-Anne Charlotte de Corday d'Armont blush madly at the idea of finding herself one of the legendary queen's ladies-in-waiting within Alexandria, a place clearly not touched by the Muslim hordes that ran over the region centuries after Cleopatra's suicide. Sensing how much the beautiful brunette loved the handsome Marcus Antonius even if such a relationship had been born from her desperate desire to keep the hordes of Rome at bay...!
Finally, Cleopatra hissed. "That man was a monster...!"
Blinking on realizing that she could now understand and speak Ra'nkumat, the native of Écorches in Normandy nodded on sensing what the other woman was referring to. "Yes, he was," she said with the accent of her native land, making the reborn queen before her tense as she tried not to laugh at such odd tones. "Even if my own life would be forfeit, there was no choice, especially with the many people being made to face the guillotine because of what Marat and his allies were demanding..."
"You faced such a death bravely..." Here, the native of Alexandria blushed as she realized she was still holding the Norman woman's hand. "Um...how do you like to be called...? You have so many names..."
"I am Charlotte, Your Majesty." Here, she gave Cleopatra a curtsey. "Now, much that I'm relieved to be still alive, I'm as lost as you seem to be as to where we are. This is some sort of SHIP...?"
"That flies through the dark realm of Nyx," the other woman finished. "Aye, this is no situation I could have dreamed of. Nor you, I suspect. As to HOW this happened, I did not gain much from him."
That comment made the native of Écorches look at the fallen guard, then she focused on the eel-like thing nearby. "Some fellow forced to be a BIRTH MOTHER to some alien creature...?" Charlotte hissed.
"He had no choice. Still, he died well," Cleopatra noted before she shook her head, pulling her hand back. "Come! Let's free the others here, then try to determine a way to be free of this place."
Charlotte nodded as they moved to inspect the next chamber...
An hour later...
"Oh, my Queen! Look out there!"
Hearing the cry from the princess-turned-oracle cursed by Apollo himself — and all because she had spurned his desires for her! — Cleopatra looked over her shoulders. "What is it, Kassándrā?"
Seeing where the native of Troy who had lived through the infamous wars that wrecked that city was pointing outside a vast window into the dark night, the last queen of Egypt and the six others who had been held by someone claiming to be none other than Nephthys herself — though Cleopatra herself now had some serious doubts thanks to her actually touching the soul of that "prim'ta" creature who had been carried inside the body of the guard she killed after awakening — gathered to look outside...
...before their jaws collectively dropped with both awe and wariness.
"It's a ship of some sort!" Huā Mùlán exclaimed.
"A pre-dreadnought battleship! French or Russian, I think!" Margaretha Geertruida Zelle declared.
"From MY homeland?!" Charlotte de Corday exclaimed.
"Ja, Mevrouw de Corday!" the native of Leeuwarden in the northern Netherlands who later became famous through her stage name "Mata Hari" affirmed with a delighted nod before she shook her head in disbelief. "Clearly adapted to fly in space and quite larger than what I remember..."
"Wait!" Cassandra said, pointing. "There's Greek written by one end!"
People looked. Sure enough, at one end of the craft now hovering nearby was a clear line of angled characters that hearkened to the days of ancient Greece and its descendant lands, all in bright gold...
Святий Пантелеймон Цілитель
"'Zb'...I don't know that third letter...'t'...what do those final two letters mean? 'Paet'...that looks like an èpsilón following...'l'...another èpsilón and that odd letter...'moe'. A ýpsilon, then 'i', strange letter, 't', the èpsilón again, 'l', then a bêta...?" a perplexed Cleopatra called out, grateful she now had VERY sharp vision that could pick out details at a distance. "If that's from your time, Margaretha, can you read it?!"
The famous courtesan-turned-spy from the Great War shook her head sadly, she holding up her hands in regret. "I never had reason to deal with Russians in my day, Uwe Majesteit," she stated with honest regret, then she looked at one of the three Oriental women with them, a mannish-looking older teenager whom the others knew was had been royalty of a line as ancient as Cleopatra's. "What of you, Uwe Hoogheid? You certainly had to deal with those accursed Communists from Russia before your..."
Here, Margaretha's voice trailed off as an apologetic look crossed her face. Smiling at the famous spy whom she emulated in service of Imperial Japan during the Second World War, the woman born Àixīnjuéluó Xiǎnyú and known better to history as Kawashima Yoshiko nodded in understanding before peering intently at the vessel hovering nearby. "If my knowledge of Cyrillic is anything close to accurate, Mistress Margaretha, that reads Svjatíj Panteléjmon Tsilítel'," the native of Běijīng blood-descent from the leaders of one of Qīng China's most prominent clans affirmed. "I'm nowhere close to being familiar with Russian, but I believe the word 'svjatíj' implies a saint in your traditions."
"Could there be a real saint here to save us, Miss Yoshiko?"
Hearing that from the youngest of their group, six-year old Virginia Dare from England's first try at colonizing the Americas during the latter years of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, Yoshiko smiled as she beckoned the emotionally younger girl closer to her. "If that is so, Little One, then we are blessed indeed," she affirmed as the only survivor of a terrible drought that had forced her parents and others to become part of the native Roanoac people moved to hug her leg in comfort.
The other older women all beamed at the cute child before they gazed once more at the nearby space battleship. "It's so quiet..." the shaman-turned-queen Yamato no Himiko warned.
"Agreed, my Queen," Cassandra advised, grateful she possessed something of her precognition to understand what was going on. "Even if that ship there seems to be a sign of the gods' favour..."
"We best move," Cleopatra affirmed. "Let's keep looking."
The others grimly nodded, then reluctantly pulled away from the vast window — as Margaretha, Yoshiko and Charlotte would have addressed such a thing — and the craft hovering close to the vessel they had woken in. "I wonder how long it's been," the Angel of Assassination from the French Revolution mused, looking around. "This must be well past Yoshiko's time and that horrid world war she endured..."
"I believe the more important question we should ask is not 'when' but 'why', Mistress Charlotte," Cassandra advised. "We should all be dead, we remember dying...and yet, here we are, alive and well."
"Not to mention de-aged," Himiko mused. "I was over seventy seasons old when I went to be with the gods. Now I look no more than eighteen. The same with all of you as well, save the Little One."
"Definitely intentional," Margaretha then advised. "We were allowed to live again for a purpose."
"Can you think of what purpose that might be, Mistress Margaretha?" Mùlán asked. "What of you, Lady Xiǎnyú?" she inquired of her fellow countrywoman. "Given both your work as spies...?"
The other two women shook their heads. "I wish I could think of what it might be, Mistress Mùlán," Yoshiko affirmed as she tried not to stare in obvious awe at the legendary warrior's daughter from the Northern Wèi whose existence was the gristle of myth and child's fables when she was growing up in Běijīng. To have living proof before her that the centre figure of the Mùláncí was REAL...! "Still, regardless of why this happened to us, I believe being alive is much more preferable than being..."
Everyone then jolted on hearing something ominous. "Fighting!" Mùlán hissed.
As the others tensed, footfalls echoed from a side hallway...
...before three women in Egyptian-style dress marched out, one clearly being the leader if her aura of haughtiness and lavish clothes indicated anything. All three stopped, their eyes widening in surprise on seeing the group of eight nearby. Then the leader of the group sneered, her confusion turning to outraged fury. "How did you get out of those pods, Ra'kalach?!" she snarled in a curiously echoing voice that sent chills down people's backs, pointing at them with a semi-armoured hand.
Virginia yelped as she hid behind Yoshiko, the others shielding her as the leader's attendants drew what some realized had to be hand-held weapons. "Did you put us there, Mevrouw?!" Margaretha snarled.
"No one speaks to me that way!" the other woman snapped. "Make these fools bow to their god!"
"At once, Lady Nephthys!" the attendants snapped as the levelled their weapons...
...only to have them savagely kicked away by Mùlán and Himiko as the others save Yoshiko and Virginia charged. Squawking with outrage that her current slaves were revolting, Nephthys levelled her armoured hand in the direction of one of them, not sensing Cleopatra herself wheel around to her right while Charlotte, Margaretha and Cassandra moved to support the amateur general from the Northern Wèi and the shaman-queen of Yamato-koku. Before the woman who called herself the goddess of the night and counterpart to the Greek goddess Nyx could sense the danger in time, the arms of the last true pharaoh of Egypt snaked around her neck, a hand grasping her throat. "No...!"
Instantly, Cleopatra's mental powers — as to what she had and what she could do, none of her new friends could imagine — went to work, the memories of this being replaying within the last pharaoh's mind at a speed that would have knocked her insensate had she been back in Alexandria. As the noise of fighting nearby echoed faintly in her ears, a hideous snarl escaped Cleopatra's lips as the true nature of the deities she and so many others had worshipped both in Egypt and beyond sank in hard.
"PSÉFTIKI THEÁ!" she screeched as that phenomenal strength which first appeared when she killed the creature within that guard who clearly believed this being — who, underneath the cloak of a normal woman, was in truth a more mature alien serpent-eel than what the guard himself had born within his body — surged up anew to choke Nephthys in a grip of pure diamond. "APÁTI! PSÉFTIS! MAY YOU BURN FOREVER IN HADES FOR ALL YOUR CRIMES, FALSE GODDESS!"
The attendants struggling with Himeko and Charlotte looked over, then shrieked as she forced the shaman-queen and the aristocrat's child away from her before she levelled her zat'nik'tel pistol. "UNHAND HER, RA'KALACH...!" she then barked out, keying off the safety...
A shriek made everyone yelp as a bolt of bright energy engulfed the woman's weapon and hand, turning both into mist in the blink of an eye. As the woman yowled from the loss of her limb, a blur of silver, white and gold raced before her before an arm cloaked in a billowing white sleeve swept back to smack the woman in the side of the head, sending her FLYING over to smash head-first into a nearby wall!
She wouldn't rise from that.
"Pryvitánnja, ladies."
Everyone, even the gasping Nephthys, stopped to look...
"A saint...!" a wide-eyed Virginia then whispered.
Hearing that from the cute child nearby, the mannish woman with the shaggy hair of pure silver and eyes of burning chestnuts blinked before she politely nodded to the first English child born of the New World. Given the flowing white robes with very baggy trousers she had on — trimmed in silver topped with intricate green Cyrillic notations as well as Russian Orthodox crucifixes in natural wood shades — it didn't take the others knowledgeable in Christian lore to understand why the youngest of their group would mistake this newcomer for one blessed by God Himself. As rapid footfalls heralded the approach of others, the newcomer gazed on the other attendant, who had been disarmed by Mùlán and Margaretha — Cassandra had moved to help Cleopatra keep down the struggling Nephthys; naturally on touching the would-be Goa'uld system lord, the princess-turned-oracle was just as outraged as her spiritual countrywoman to learn the truth of their "gods" — and was now being forced to the floor by the Northern Wèi warrior and the Dutch courtesan/spy. "If I may, ladies?" she politely asked.
Mùlán and Margaretha gazed on her, then backed off from their opponent. Before the woman could recover or grasp her zat'nik'tel, the newcomer's eyes glowed as bright as the Sun itself before twin pulverizing beams of energy ripped through her head from the side; fortunately for Virginia, Yoshiko instantly shielded the child from such a gory sight. "Slípa nekul'túrna dytýna...!" the newcomer then muttered, shaking in her head before she focused on everyone's "host".
Feeling that disgusted stare fall on her, Nephthys shuddered as she tried to struggle free from the grasp of both Cleopatra and Cassandra; fortunately for the last pharaoh of Egypt and the princess-turned-oracle from lost Troy, they now knew to keep that armoured hand away from them. "Filthy Orak'nou!" she spat out. "I'll have your body melted down so I can seize your Gift seed...!"
"TÝSHA!"
The namesake of the goddess of the night clammed up as the newcomer's eyes glowed ominously...
"Hályna Jevhéniovna?!"
That made the newcomer left. "Dóroti Pétrovna! Klementína Maksimiliánova! Vasílissa Vasíl'evna!"
Heads turned to look...
...then Cleopatra and her companions all gaped in surprise on seeing three more women about the same age as their obvious rescuer literally FLY through the hallway to land nearby, all looking as if they got some decent exercise in the last few minutes. "We subdued the last of the Jaffa, Hályna Jevhéniovna!" the woman with the VERY long silver hair — with strands tied in ponytails over her ears — announced before she turned to see their main target now easily subdued by a group of women wearing a very familiar type of skinsuit. "Avalonians...?!" she exclaimed, her own chestnut eyes wide with surprise. "What in God's name are THEY doing here?! I thought Admiral Moroboshi freed them all!"
As one of the newcomers — dressed in the same type of flowing robes the first wore even if colours were understandably different — moved to gaze upon the wide-eyed Virginia, the one called Hályna gazed over. "Don't scare the Little One there, Vasílissa!" she then chided, earning her an annoyed pout from the woman with the BLUE hair cropped at the shoulders. "Much that none of us have their delightful empathy, by the looks of them, they've been through quite an ordeal before we came."
"I AM Russian, Gálina Èvgéniovna!" Vasílissa declared.
"Net! You are Chuvash, not Russian!"
The woman named Dóroti and the woman beside her — a woman with long, flowing black hair and a rather toothy smile — laughed at the joke the others couldn't understand. Footfalls then heralded the arrival of a quite muscular man, carrying what Yoshiko, Charlotte and Margaretha instantly recognized as a rifle of some sort, he dressed in an almost-black uniform with very dark-shaded insignia. "Captain!" he called out, stopping before Hályna and giving her a salute, which she returned with her own hand. "We've secured the whole ship now." A foxy, knowing smile then crossed his face. "I take it you're going to do a harvest for you and your old fleet mates from the ohýdni zmijí here?!"
"But of course, Comrade Lieutenant," the mannish silver-haired woman affirmed before she waved to the people in the gestation suits, all of whom clearly were relieved that people who clearly cared for them had come to remove them from Nephthys' grasp. "However, we've seemed to have freed some unexpected prisoners this particular lar'beke has taken along the way, so my friends and I will get them back to the KósPan before we start to cull the prim'ta! Get the men back aboard the ship."
He saluted her. "As you wish, Captain!"
Turning, he raced off. "What about this one, Hályna Jevhéniovna?" Dóroti asked.
Before the namesake of the Egyptian goddess of the night and childhood could react, a hand vastly more powerful than Cleopatra's snared the system lord by the throat. "I'll deal with this one, Dórosha," Hályna coolly declared. "You and the others escort our new friends here to where we can get them onto the ship so we can learn their stories and find out how the devil a Goa'uld got its hands on Kal'ma Ra'kalach of all people! For that, I've some questions for you, Néftyda Gébovna!"
Unfortunately, her grip on Nephthys hadn't cut off all her oxygen. "You...dare ATTACK...your gods...?"
She was yanked into gazing at Hályna's glowing eyes. "Is that a trick question, lar'beke?!" the silver-haired woman snarled in a voice as cold as ice, that making the system lord croak in terror.
A pained whimper answered her. "Come on, everyone," Dóroti then bade. "Let's leave the old woman here to her fun! You all look as if you haven't eaten for some time now! We have food!"
That made the eight women from different periods of time instantly perk. As Virginia then ran into Vasílissa's welcoming arms to be carried off, the other "prisoners" — all of whom were now wondering what the appellation "Avalonian" actually meant and why it was applied to them — moved to walk away from the scene. "Now..." Hályna trilled as she reached down to crush Nephthys' kara-kesh with her free hand, making the system lord shriek in pain before she was allowed to drop to the deck, she moving to cradle her crushed hand. "Decisions! Decisions! What will I do with you once I kill you?! Should I coat you in dough to make some varényky or cut you to pieces for a serving of shashlýk...!"
Even wounded, Nephthys instantly reacted to THAT!
"KEK'ULD! HOW DARE YOU THREATEN TO EAT YOUR GODS?!"
A powerful slap to the head stunned her. Walking away from that scene, Cleopatra paused as she looked back at the fake "god" before she gazed quizzically on Dóroti. "'Eat your gods?'" she asked.
An amused chuckle answered the last pharaoh. "Let's get you somewhere safe before we explain..."
To Be Continued...
WRITER'S NOTES
This particular side story is set around the time of Part 21 in Book One of the main story. Save for two, the ladies "reborn" here are historical figures whose stories can certainly be examined elsewhere. Huā Mùlán is, as noted above, the subject of the tale Mùláncí ("Ballad of Mùlán") set during the era of the Northern Wèi dynasty which dominated northern China from 386-535 CE. Cassandra hails from Greek mythology, said to have lived at the time of the Trojan Wars believed to have occurred around 1260-1180 BCE; her story is better explored in the Iliád as written by Homer. As for the system lord Nephthys, she has never appeared in any version of Stargate SG-1; she was created by myself.
Translation list and source language: Áktion — Proper spelling of the ancient town on the Ionian Sea known more commonly by the Latin term Actium, near modern-day Préveza (Greek); Cher Dieu — Dear God (French); Je suis vivant — I'm alive (French); Mevrouw — Madame (Dutch); Uwe Majesteit — Your Majesty (Dutch); Uwe Hoogheid — Your Highness (Dutch); Svjatíj Panteléjmon Tsilítel' — Saint Pantaleon the Healer (Ukrainian); Pséftiki theá — False goddess (Greek); Apáti — Liar (Greek); Pséftis — Fake (Greek); Pryvitánnja — Greetings (Ukrainian); Slípa nekul'túrna dytýna — Blind uncultured child (Ukrainian); Týsha — Silence (Ukrainian); Ohýdni zmijí — Dirty snakes (Ukrainian); KósPan — Short for Kosmíchnyj Pántsernik ("Star Armourclad") (Ukrainian); Lar'beke — Snake leech (Yizibajohei); Varényky — Perogies (Ukrainian); Shashlýk — Marinated lamb shish kebab (Ukrainian).
As an aside, the term Ra'kalach can be seen as translated as "souls touched by the Sun" in Goa'uld. This is Fred's invention to mark natives of the planet Sagussa, which first appeared in his fanfic series The Senior Year. Naturally, Kal'ma Ra'kalach would mean "children of the souls touched by the Sun"; the word kal'ma has appeared in Stargate SG-1. This represents the Sagussans' bioroid descendant race, the Avalonians, who also appeared in TSY. Also, both terms Orak'nou and Kek'uld are Fred's creation; the former literally means "unspeakable devil" and the latter means "eater of gods". These words were created using Coptic, the last remnant of the ancient Egyptian language, as inspiration.
Ra'nkumat is the name of the ancient tongue of Egypt itself as pronounced in its native language.
Comparing the similar-looking ancient Greek and Ukrainian Cyrillic alphabets to explain Cleopatra's more than understandable confusion on see KósPan Svjatíj Panteléjmon Tsilítel'. First, Greek:
Α/α ("a"), Β/β ("b"), Γ/γ ("g" or "ng"), Δ/δ ("d"), Ε/ε ("e" in may), Ζ/ζ ("zd"), Η/η ("e" in bed), Θ/θ ("th"), Ι/ι ("i"), Κ/κ ("k"), Λ/λ ("l"), Μ/μ ("m"), Ν/ν ("n"), Ξ/ξ ("ks"), Ο/ο ("o"), Π/π ("p" in top), Ρ/ρ ("r"), Σ/σ/ς ("s" or "z"), Τ/τ ("t"), Υ/υ ("e" in few), Φ/φ ("p" in pot), Χ/χ ("c" in cat), Ψ/ψ ("ps" in lapse) and Ω/ω ("a" in saw)
Now Ukrainian:
А/а ("a"), Б/б ("b"), В/в ("v"), Г/г ("h"), Ґ/ґ ("g"), Д/д ("d"), Е/е ("e"), Є/є ("je"), Ж/ж ("zh"), З/з ("z"), И/и ("y"), І/і ("i"), Ї/ї ("ji"), Й/й ("j"), К/к ("k"), Л/л ("l"), М/м ("m"), Н/н ("n"), О/о ("o"), П/п ("p"), Р/р ("r"), С/с ("s"), Т/т ("t"), У/у ("u"), Ф/ф ("f"), Х/х ("kh"), Ц/ц ("ts"), Ч/ч ("ch"), Ш/ш ("sh"), Щ/щ ("sch"), Ь/ь ("soft" sign indicating palatalization of the previous consonant), Ю/ю ("ju") and Я/я ("ja")
Note that the way Cleopatra pronounces the names of each of the letters in her alphabet is the ancient style; the modern version of Greek pronounces those names differently.
The joke concerning Hályna Jevhéniovna Hólykova-Pot'ómkina's name is simple. In Ukrainian, her name is written Галина Євгеніовна Голикова-Потьомкіна. In Russian, such could possibly be read Gálina Èvgéniovna Gólikova-Pot'ómkina; note that in Russian Cyrillic, there's no stand-alone "h" letter, "i" is inscribed as И/и and "y" is actually inscribed as Ы/ы. Also note the Russian "è" is written as Э/э, the mirror of the Ukrainian "je" Є/є letter. In Russian, the standard Е/е is often pronounced with a /j/ when the letter appears either after a vowel or at the start of a word;, for example, the name Elizavéta (Елизaвета) is pronounced /(j)ɪlʲɪzɐˈvʲetə/. In Ukrainian, the Е/е is pronounced without the /j/ regardless of the position the letter appears.
And that's the only clue you'll get about who Hályna once was at this time!