Enter the Emperor's chosen
Chapter 3

I know that it's been a while since I last updated but this is only one of five stories I'm working on and I find I'm writing three chapters ahead! In fact I've already written the final chapter and epilogue, the only problem is getting there with the chapters in-between! On top of that my Stargate/Star wars crossover (in the Stargate section) is writing itself at light speed! But after months of waiting here you go:-

The hologram had turned itself off a few minutes ago after giving the walking tanks their orders. Strangely the orders were that Jack was given a field rank of company commander and joint leadership of the base for the duration of the mission. Jack's first order was to release the staff and the other SG teams. The second was to have a private meeting.

So now Sg-1 and master Bra'tac stood around the now hopelessly small table. 'Do we believe these guys?'

'I think we should O'Neill.' Bra'tac said in his usual "in dire events" tone. 'He was correct as to why we came here. Several tribes of Jaffa that once served the false gods Baal, Mot and even Ra sent representatives to ourselves at Dakara. They were twisted and warped somehow. They called it a gift of their gods and tried to convert us.'

'How?' asked Daniel.

Teal'c answered; 'With promises of rewards and vengeance against those that enslaved us. They also promised that their masters would stop any other false Gods from taking advantage of us.'

'After millennia of enslavement I suspect that the others would be afraid of something like that happening again.' Daniel announced.

'You are correct, unfortunately that problem is not at the foremost of most of the Jaffa minds. In a perverse way many of out people have found themselves emotionally adrift. With both the Replicators and the Goa'uld defeated our people have no goal to strive for and no orders to follow.'

Jack glanced at Carter, it was her turn to speak but the scientist only looked down; 'That sounds like the beginning of a civil war.' Noted Danny, he missed Teal'c's 'Indeed' as he waited for the only female at the table to speak. 'Alright Carter, spill it. What's the matter?'

She looked up blankly. 'Sir'

'What. Is. The. Matter. Carter?'

Both her eyebrows flew in the direction of her fringe. 'Nothing. Nothing's the matter sir… Its' just. I thought my armour was like yours.' She admitted 'And now I find out its not.'

'It's made of the same materials isn't it Sam?' Daniel asked

'That's not the point, I mean look at these.' She high kicked and rested one leg on the table. 'I mean what would you call these?'

Jack almost bit his bottom lip in half.

'I would call them "Boots" Samantha Carter.' Bra'tac informed her with a evil look in his eyes.

'…and a leg.' finished Daniel.

'Thank you. I was talking about how tight they were. Come on who would be seen dead like this.'

Forcing his eyes on the SGC br… crest at the back of the room Jack hoped the armour wasn't picking up the twitch he had suddenly developed. 'Are you sure there's enough armour there Carter?'

'Yes sir. If you look…' she moved her leg around so that he could get a better view.

Wincing Jack scratched the scar over his eye 'Carter. Leg down now please.'

'Oh yes sorry sir.' Thankfully as she did as she was told and the boot slipped behind the ankle length skirt.

'Good. So here's the plan I call George and put a hold on whatever he's planning. Teal'c, Bra'tac I want you two to talk with our guys, find out what they know.' They nodded in unison. 'Daniel you find their leader and do your thing.'

'You want me to find out about their culture, philosophy and religion?'

'Yes. Whatever. Carter your job is to find out what the hell this stuff is made out of then I want you to figure out theses guy's guns. Something tells me the swords aren't for show either.

'Yes sir'

'Right. I'll just have a talk with George then I'm downstairs. As much as I trust these walking tanks I don't … well you know.'

'Trust them O'Neill?'

'That's the phrase I was looking for.'

General George S. Hammond was out of the hummer before it had a chance to stop. 'Colonel Grove any contact?'

The Colonel in question was a stocky built, but short, man who was in charge of the infiltration team 'None verbal sir. We sent down a team through the access shaft but there were two unknowns with automatic pistols waiting for us. The team came back out with identical leg wounds.'

'How do you mean identical?'

'We measured them sir each of the four team members were shot in the same leg on the same point within an eight of an inch. In less than two seconds. Whoever they are down there, they're good.'

Walters came running out of the escort vehicles with a satellite phone; 'General Hammond sir, there's a call rerouted from Washington. It's General O'Neill.'

Half ripping the sat phone from him George barely stopped himself from barking down the thing, 'Jack what's going on? Is there a Foothold scenario in progress?'

'Sorry George its not your average Foothold.'

'What's average about a Foothold Jack?'

'Off hand I can't think of many that involved over a hundred religious psychopaths wearing more armour than your average tank coming from the future. The good news is they don't care about this world or about killing us.'

Why could it never be simple with SG1 involved. 'Why not.'

'They say they're from the future, ours. If they do anything to us then they might not exist anymore, that's what Carter say's anyway.'

'Jack, are you sure about this. They could just be trying to lull us into a sense of security '

'I might be back in charge down here sir but secure I ain't.'

'Do we have a choice in the matter?'

'No'

'Is there anything we can do from up here.'

A slight pause followed with: 'Nope.'

'Anything you want us to do?'

'Other than order a pizza there isn't much you can do. I've been given command of the base and joint command over the invaders for now. I think that's the best we can get for the moment. If anything turns up I'll call you.'

Sam and Daniel were heading to the commissary. While he lurched around like Frankenstein's monster Daniel envied Sam's lighter armour and walk. 'How do you do that?' he finally asked.

'Do what?'

'Walk like there's no problem. We're trapped in these metal suits and your walking like normal.' It wasn't often Daniel got angry but that was the fourth time he had to fall onto the wall to keep form crashing into his friend.

Sam helped him back up; 'Stop thinking about it. As far as I can tell the headsets are extremely sensitive. Look I heard that these marines brought a priest with them, start thinking about what you need to ask him.'

As always she was right, now that he could think about something else he had another question for her. 'You knew exactly what your leg was doing to Jack didn't you?'

'I don't know what you mean.' was all she said. But without a helmet to cover it Daniel could see the evil little smile women sometimes get that no man understands, unless they're a linguist that is.

Two steps later Daniel realised something; 'Oh no. We left the helmets in the briefing room. We'll have to go back and get them.'

'After we've had something to eat…'

'Your right. come on.' Outside the commissary a small riot was brewing; 'What's going on?' he asked as they got closer.

'Doctor Jackson? Colonel Carter?' asked one of the startled airmen closest to them.

'Yes,' Sam answered 'What's happening here airman?'

'Those "Space Marines" have taken over the cafeteria! They've turned it into some kind of shrine!'

This got Daniel's attention. 'Sam, I'll have a word with whoever's in there you better get to work. No rest for the wicked.'

'Tell the General that. Good luck Daniel.' Sam went down one of the side corridors while Daniel had to push his way through the crowd.

He was surprised how quickly they moved when he mentioned he couldn't control the armour that well. Stumbling to, what he guessed was a hastily expanded doorway Daniel found two Marines wearing the immensely thicker "terminator" armour. Both stood like statues with what looked to be glowing halberds just on the other side of the door. 'Urm… Hello. I'm Doctor Jackson…'

A third Knight stepped into the doorway. This guy was huge, bigger than the other two and even bigger than their commander. What looked to be candle light from inside reflected off glossy black armour instead of the standard silver/grey the others wore. But the thing that made Daniel, and everyone else around him, take a step back was the oversized skull that made his helmet and the red rubies that glowed instead of eyes. 'Saint Jackson. I know who you are. You may enter.'

Hiding a wince at the title of "Saint" Daniel went in. His guess was right, someone had simply bashed through the door widening it enough for the armour to get through. What ever he was planning to say next was lost when he saw the new layout of the cafeteria.

All but two of the tables had been smashed and thrown behind the counters. The remaining tables were stacked one on top of the other on the opposite end of the room. Grafted into the wall was a stylised symbol of a bird with two heads. A large book attached to a chain sat on the hastily erected lectern. Tall posts were flat against the walls and surmounted by tallow candles that replaced the shattered light bulbs. The whole thing was strange, the floor was clean and clear, the bird on the wall clearly defined and the candles bright enough to see. It was almost a chapel, yet the atmosphere was oppressive. The eagle was too big, almost a threat looming on the horizon. The old scratches from chair legs were covered by stomping cracks that webbed across the floor and the shadows that clung to the corners seemed to threaten to engulf the room as the candles flickered. 'Very gothic.'

'This is soon to be our chapel. Before we arrived here I fasted for three weeks. My body is pure and my sprit clean. I was ready to start the ceremony of consecration, will you witness it?'

'If you don't mind, after can I ask you a few questions. If that's alright with you?'

The hulking priest stepped up behind the book. 'I would be honoured. I am Grey Knight Chaplin Arthurus Thurman of Titan.'

'Doctor Daniel Jackson of Earth.'

'Then we begin.'

Sam tuned a corner and found two of the Knights waiting for her. One in the heavier armour and the other in the lighter kind. 'Greetings, as you will remember I am Tech-priest Tiberius Riker and this is my apprentice Decimus Mcrintosh. We require your help, holy creator of the first STC.'

'The STC?' to say she was taken aback was an under statement. Shocked half way out of the armour was better.

'The Standard Template Construct. The technology that the first human empire was built upon.' Decimus answered his voice ringing with something akin to outright worship.

Sam almost grinned as she had an idea 'I'll help you if you help me learn about this armour.'

Tiberius put a hand on his apprentices shoulder 'Of course Holy one..' he bowed his head in reverence. Something that unsettled her no end.

Jack stomped down to one of the sub basement levels deep under the gate room. Cole was with him and both of them were armed to the teeth. After finishing the call with George the big guy stomped in carrying two sets of equipment and said one word. 'Training.'

Entering the base's gym Jack put down the single barrelled rifle and hefted up the one weapon he was unfamiliar with, the sword. A pale blue glow covered the blade as soon as he pulled it out of the sheath. 'I've never been any good with these things.' He admitted.

'Then it is time to get good. We may not have time to reload in battle, your blade is just as important. We begin now.' In all honesty Jack was ready for him to match action to words, however he wasn't ready for the armoured boot to crack into his gut. After that followed a rather painful lesson. "It ain't like television."

Cole didn't bother with parrying or little things like react to the one lucky punch Jack got to his face. He wasn't a showman or a actor, just a pure professional killer. Each round was over in seconds and each time Jack found new ways to fall.

Eventually it felt like every bone in his body was broken. 'Do not be ashamed. I have fought like this for my life while you are not even seventy years of age.'

Jack grunted as he stood 'Just how old are you?'

'Four thousand five hundred and ninety two. Counted in the cycles of Holy Terra.'

'Four thousand? Earth years?'

'Yes, I know I am young for my rank. However I was promoted in the fields of the second Armageddon wars and for my actions in the Gothic sector battles.'

'oh obviously. How old is the Emperor then?'

'He is without age. At the dawn of humanity's first steps into the great universe he lead us.'

'So about now. Forty thousand?' Not even snake heads lasted that long, with the help of a sarcophagus.

'Come we will train with your bolter.'

Putting the frankly disturbing concepts of immortality aside Jack grinned 'Ahh guns.'

End chapter 3