Ch. 39 — Doomsday Gate
"We were experimenting with fuel sources," Admiral Potter said, "and forgot that trying to run an experimental reactor from thirty-thousand miles introduced a time-delay in our control of the remote unit. When you're a tenth of a second away and you need to react in a hundredth of a second . . .." He held up his hands in a "well, what do you expect would happen" manner.
"So, you do have a base there," Hammond affirmed.
"Yes. That's where the prison base will be when it's finished in a few days."
"Why Uranus?"
"Jupiter's gravity-well is too deep, and the atmosphere is too unsettled for our comfort, and Saturn has too much debris from its rings," answered Number One. "Uranus is easier to mine our fuel."
"Why can't we see your ships?" the Secretary of Defence asked.
The Admiral gave his head a shake. "We use what you would call a cloaking device. It's quite complex — I certainly don't understand how it works," he said. "However, the easiest explanation is that it renders the ships transparent to a broad spectrum of energy."
"We will not share this with your military," Number One said, looking at the President. "You have no use for such a thing on planet. It would merely cause wars." She obviously turned to Major General Hammond. "That said, there are things we can give your Stargate Teams that will greatly simplify their missions while making them exponentially safer than they are now — if you're interested."
The alien behind them reached over her shoulder and removed a board that looked astonishingly like a wheelless skateboard. She dropped it, only for it to stop barely an inch above the floor. She stepped up on it.
"Almost totally silent movement," the Admiral said, as the alien Combat Operations Commander took a quick, and silent tour around the room. "It leaves no tracks. The only thing that might give you away is the sound of air moving over your clothes when the invisibility cloak is activated."
Then the Combat Commander disappeared. She did not teleport, as the others had.
"It has a top speed of about a hundred miles an hour, and an acceleration of one gravity in space, given that there's no friction," said his First Officer.
"It could go faster on the ground, but the wind turbulence makes it impossible to control," put in the Admiral.
The Combat Commander reappeared on the opposite side of the room before disappearing, again.
The government people were staring, wide-eyed.
"These will also not be given to your military. Any attempt by the military to take the devices given to Stargate will see the individuals responsible for giving the orders, and their departments, denied access to any technology we may make available to you."
The alien reappeared, standing, relaxed, in her former position. The hoverboard was no longer in sight.
"We are aware of your N.I.D., and their attempt to coerce the Tollans into 'sharing' their technology by imprisoning them in forced labour camps," the Admiral said.
Abruptly, they heard Colonel O'Neill's voice, "These people do have rights, you know?"
Then came Colonel Maybourne's voice. "Do they? Under what nation's jurisdiction?"
"They won't co-operate, you know."
"I assure you, Colonel, they will."
Hammond's blood ran cold. How had they known of that conversation?
Then came his voice. "Colonel Maybourne has full authorisation to relocate the Tollans immediately."
"Nice little community with high walls, guards, maybe a little barbed wire," O'Neill said sarcastically.
A moment later, came Maybourne's response. "These aliens will live a better life than most Americans. They'll have a great view, the best food, every convenience, everything they need."
"Everything except a life."
There was dead silence in the room.
"I'm sure the world public would love to hear how the US government planned an alien Gulag to advance their military might," Number One said dryly. "And that visitors to the US have no rights., despite anything the Constitution and your Supreme Court might say or have said."
"Any such attempts on our people will result in retaliation to the individuals who gave the orders," the Admiral said. "We will use our truth serum to trace back the command."
"Is that a threat?" The Defence Secretary said.
"Is it a threat, or a warning, for a bobbie to say to a man holding a gun, 'if you shoot someone you will be arrested?'" said Number One.
Hammond took a long slow breath, and let it out just as slowly. The others in the room were equally stunned. "I am almost afraid to ask, but are those holstered items weapons?"
"Oh, yes," Admiral Potter said, amusement clear in his voice. He reached to his side and lifted up a silvery tube with many black markings.
"Nooo," said one of the aides in the room, disbelievingly.
"Yes," said Potter, as he thumbed a switch and a beam of light shot out to about four feet.
Behind him, the Combat alien lifted their cylinder and a light beam erupted from it.
Number One shook her head, as if in exasperation.
Potter held his straight up, while the other took several swings. It made the iconic vibration noise, then they lightly tapped his with a crashing crackle.
"At this setting, the toy mode, it's harmless," Potter said. "But at higher setting it's quite capable of cutting through steel as easily as a knife through water." He glanced over at Number One, then back at the president. "Would you mind if we made a deal with LucasFilms selling toy-mode-only units? I've been told they would be phenomenal sellers." He replaced his lightsabre in its holster.
President Clinton slowly shook his head. "You might run into some resistance from LucasFilms — that looks like a copy of the lightsabres from Star Wars."
"For most of the profits? I doubt they'd say no, and, yes, it is," said Number One dryly. "We wouldn't be doing it for the profits, though, we don't need them. It's mostly for the fun."
There was a flash of light and an open box appeared on the floor between the Admiral and the president. Potter stood and looked inside, then removed what turned out to be a silvery cylinder. He thumbed a switch and the light-beam appeared. He nodded, turned it off, and held it out to the President. "An early Christmas present."
The Secret Service agents were visibly perturbed, as were the other people in the room. As a casual display of power, having something appear out of nowhere was second to none. Especially when they all knew it had to have come from somewhere else, hundreds of miles away. Or was it thousands?
An aide came over and took it to the president.
"There are lightsabres in the box for each person in the room. There is an extra for your scientists, because, if there wasn't, they'd take one for themselves from the lowest rank in the room, and that would be rude."
That there wasn't an immediate rush for the items said a great deal about their self-control. One brave soul slowly lowered his pinky into the beam, before looking up happily. "Just feels a bit warmer," he said excitedly.
For several minutes there was nothing but the sounds of lightsabres being tested.
"Are you responsible for the sudden remission or cure of cancer and AIDS in so many people in the United Kingdom?" President Clinton abruptly asked.
There was another long silence as the two aliens apparently conferred.
"Yes. It started when one of the crew members had a friend whose son was diagnosed with cancer," said the admiral. "It was an experiment to see if we could do it without getting caught. Unfortunately, we couldn't do everyone in a ward at once without attracting a lot of attention."
"An experiment?"
Number One answered. "It is a matter of resources. We don't have the trained personnel to appear in every hospital in the world with a cancer ward on the same day. Then, of course, there's the problem of the hospital doctors and administrators letting us in to see the patients in the first place."
"For some reason," the Admiral Potter put in dryly, "I don't think they would believe us when we tell them we can cure their patients, especially when they demand to know what medical degrees we have and we admit we don't have any. Or, at least, none that they ever heard of.
"Plus, we couldn't simply drop off the cure with a note saying, 'Try this!' now, could we? Who would have believed it to be true?"
"Once we proved we could do it, surreptitiously," Number One said, "it became a matter of how fast we could move with the equipment and personnel we had. It is a simple numbers game. As long as we can cure them faster than they get sick, we can make progress. Now that the United Kingdom's children's cases have been reduced to curing cases as they occur, about ten a day, we can move to other countries, like Belgium and France. Unfortunately, there will be a point at which the incident rate will equal our ability to cure." She paused. "And we did notice you're bringing Yankee cancer-patients into Lakenheath."
The President's aides exchanged careful and obviously meaningful looks. "If it's personnel," the President finally said, "we would be more than willing to provide people if you can provide the cure."
The two aliens looked at each other for almost a full minute. The Combat Specialist appeared to be watching a tennis match from the way they kept subtly twitching their head from the Admiral to Number One and back.
"We can do that," said Number One, finally. A large, thick, object flashed into place on the side-table between the two aliens. It was about the size of a three-ring-binder for regular paper, not more than three-fingers thick. "This is a Portable Medical Problem-Solver, or PiMPS, as we call it. Place it on the subject's chest or abdomen and then follow the instructions on the display." She tilted her head slightly as she picked it up and held it out.
"Would you like a brief demonstration of its diagnostic abilities?" she politely asked.
They stared at her, stunned.
"There is nothing to worry about. The diagnostic is pain-free, and we won't initiate any corrective actions without your express approval and the subject's permission."
The female looked across the room, clearly examining each person she saw.
"Major General Hammond," she asked, again tilting her head slightly. "Would you like to volunteer? It will only take a few moments. There is nothing to worry about. The diagnostic is pain free, and, as I said, we won't initiate any actions without your express permission."
Hammond hesitated, looking at the President.
"Not to be insulting, sir," the alien admiral said, "But you appear to be the oldest person in the room, and the device is more likely to find something . . . interesting. It will probably be something you already know about, and thus you can confirm the device is working."
Reluctantly, Hammond stood. "I don't see why not," he said. "Where shall we do this?"
The two aliens stood and moved their chairs back. At the same time a thigh-high padded metal table flashed into view in the middle of the room between the two groups.
"Please lie down on this table, sir, on your back," said Number One. "It's just for convenience's sake."
Frowning, Hammond moved over and onto the table. He made himself as comfortable as he could.
The female placed the box on his chest. "Just relax," she said quietly. Louder, she said, "It turns on by pressing these two opposite corners," as she demonstrated. "Please come closer, everyone, so you can see." In a moment, everyone except the Secret Security personnel were grouped around the table.
"As you can see, it now says, 'Scan subject?' Beside that are two boxes, one green and one red. The green box has "YES" written in it, the red box has "NO". We press green to proceed. It now says, 'scanning' and then 'completed.' It is very fast," she said as an aside. "Below that it now says, 'Correct Medical Problems' with three boxes. The normal green/red, yes/no, boxes and a new orange one that says, 'SHOW DETAILS.'" The female explained. "Pressing the orange button gets us a list of the medical problems detected." She paused a moment.
"The details are usually sorted in most dangerous to least dangerous, so someone who has received an injury in an accident will have the most life-threatening injuries listed first.
"The display now says, 'Circulatory system compromised with obstructing fatty deposits, heart failure within five years, fifty-percent probability. Remove obstructing deposits?' with Yes/No boxes." She turned her head to look at General Hammond. "Did you know you had circulatory problems?"
The General slowly nodded. "My doctor has prescribed a diet to cut down on fatty foods and simvastatin to reduce my cholesterol levels."
She nodded. "Do you wish to remove the fat deposits?"
"You can do that?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He thought a moment. If they could cure cancer without physically cutting someone open, perhaps they could do what she seemed to indicate they could do. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
"Yes."
He shrugged. "Do it."
"Pressing the green box," she said. "The display indicates 'Working,' and 'Finished. Three pounds of intrusive material deposits have been removed.' It now says, 'Remove scar tissue, set circulatory system to optimal condition?'" She looked at the general with a questioning attitude.
"Yes. If you can, please do."
" 'Working,' and 'Done.' It now says, 'Respiratory system compromised with foreign substances, efficiency reduced to eighty-five percent. Remove foreign substances and restore to optimal condition?'" She looked at him, again. "Do you smoke cigarettes?"
"I started in high school and quit about ten years ago."
"Do you sometimes notice difficulty in breathing?"
"Only with strenuous exercise."
"Fix it?"
"Yes, please."
"Alright, next, it says, 'Severe damage to mandible and maxilla. Remove foreign substances and restore to optimal condition?'" He thought he heard a small chuckle. "Naturally. You have fillings and a root canal or two?"
"Three root canals and seven fillings."
"Would you like to have your teeth back?"
He stared at her, as did everyone else.
She nodded. "It won't restore impacted or problematic wisdom teeth, just so you know." She paused a moment, "We've also instructed it as a default not to restore the appendix or tonsils if they have been removed for any reason."
"What about the nerves in the teeth?" one of the aides asked.
"The device will . . . remove the fillings and dental materials it has detected. After having scanned so many thousands of people, it now has a thorough picture of what the ideal tooth should look like for each location in the mouth. It will adapt that picture to match the General's own genetic profile, and will . . . build . . . new material in the cavity created, both nerve and calcium, as needed, and restore full functionality. It will also contour the new surfaces so that upper and lower teeth mesh properly, as well as match in colour — which will be a nice, pristine white after removing coffee and tea stains."
The room was completely silent.
"Wait!" said the Secretary of Health and Human Services. "Does that mean this thing can fix nerve damage?" The Secretary of Veteran Affairs gave the female-sounding alien a narrow-eyed look.
"Depending on the reason for the damage, yes." She nodded confidently.
"Yes," interrupted General Hammond. "Please repair my teeth." His next physical was going to drive his doctor mad.
"Done. It now says, 'Minor scar tissue and incidental damage to organs. Restore to optimal condition?'"
"Yes."
"Done." She lifted the box off his chest. "You may notice some unusual aches and pains in the next few days as your body adjusts to its new situation. You will also notice that you have more energy than before. According to the display, we've added about forty or fifty years to your lifespan if you maintain a healthy lifestyle — regular exercise, moderate meals, and so forth. It might be more, we have insufficient data on mu . . . your people to determine that more precisely."
They were stunned.
She held the device out. One of the aides took it. "As you can see," she said, "It is very simple to operate. The only limit is how fast you can train people, and get hospitals to accept them," she said.
Hammond, slowly sitting up and getting off the table, could hear the humour in her voice. "You see the problem? While we can offer a great boon, no one will accept it from us because we are unknown." She turned back to the President. "This becomes even more of a problem in non-first-world countries.
He felt . . . different. It was easier to breath. Aches he had never noticed were gone.
She returned to her chair beside the Admiral. "In view of these facts, we request that your government, temporarily, act as our contact on this issue. Please tell the United Kingdom that we will be sending an envoy to the Queen and her Prime Minister tomorrow to discuss placing the PiMPS in their hands — they can handle the devices' introduction and distribution to members of the Commonwealth. We will land in Buckingham's Back Garden at noon.
"I will have a thousand of these where the Runabout landed in a few minutes. Please tell us the locations at which you wish other batches of the devices to be delivered. We ask that you help spread these as far as possible. We expect you to share these out to other countries as fast as you can convince them to try them out. We will beam these directly to any location you request, just give us the outside coordinates with a clear view from space. There is no reason that every city, town, and village in the world, no matter how small the settlement may be, should not have one of these.
"Also, ask the Chinese and the Russians when they would like us to drop off their PiMPS," said Admiral Potter. "I think Tiananmen Square in China and Red Square in front of the Kremlin would be good locations to start."
Again, there was silence in the room.
The President took a deep breath. "Well, we will certainly put these . . . PiMPS . . . to good use, after we give Major General Hammond a complete physical, of course." He looked over at his aides. "And we will notify the United Nations Assembly of what you want us to do, as well as Queen Elizabeth and the Prime Minister of your intentions to visit her."
Number One nodded. "Finally," she said, "We expect these devices to be used without restrictions on anyone who may, or may not, be considered a suitable patient. If we discover that any country is restricting their use to certain groups or individuals, or preventing other groups or individuals from using them, we will withdraw all the units from that country. So, no denying the unit to anyone because of the colour of their skin, their race, their religion, and so forth. Nor prioritizing one group over another. If someone needs access to the unit, it must be made available to them at the earliest possible time.
"Should a country deny access to anyone, we will deny access to the units to that country's leaders. Should they try to use a device from another country, it will not work for them," Admiral Potter said. "If they have already used a PiMPS, we will reverse the changes and restore that person to their original condition.
"Oh, of course, we expect that your government will want to have one of your aides carrying a PiMPS in his briefcase because you are a vital individual in the government," the female called Number One said, "and that a few others will be kept in places like the Congressional Building and Supreme Court Building. An action we anticipate every government will want for their leadership.
"However, we also expect you to make these available to anyone who might need its services, without restriction, in those areas. So, no rules that the one in the Congressional Building can only be used by Senators and Representatives, for example. Anyone injured or in need of medical help while in the Congressional Building, or close to it — tourists, protesters, homeless, and so forth — will be given access to the device."
"In any event," Admiral Potter added, "Tell each and every patient and his family that this device is being made available to them by the Defensive Space Force." He didn't mention that the units supplied to them would have that emblazoned on all four sides in multiple languages, as well as a logo, as Hammond had noticed. "Attempting to conceal the device's origins will result in its removal. The battery in each unit is good for a year. The display will show a daily countdown for the last ten days, then we will automatically retrieve it. Don't try to disassemble it, the technology is as far ahead of your current technology as your current microchips are ahead of the telegraph. The battery is especially sensitive to meddling, and will likely violently explode — destroying the city it is in. If we detect someone meddling with a unit, we will remove it to prevent such an incident — and not replace it."
"We don't expect this to happen over-night," interjected Number One. "We understand it will take time to convince people that the devices do work as described, and that there aren't any 'gotchas' hidden inside." She turned to look at General Hammond. "I don't envy you the physical they're going to give to you."
She turned back to the President. "I suggest you try this first on the cancer patients in local wards. You know from the United Kingdom that that feature works. There's no reason to delay. Then start using them in a military veterans' hospital to give your doctors experience in using the devices, and spread out from there."
While they had been explaining things, Hammond had resumed his seat. He noticed the table had disappeared shortly after he left it. Frowning, he asked, "Did you have anything to do with the comet that hit Mars last August?"
The Combat Commander put its hands on its waist, tilted its head slightly, and stared at him.
The other two leaned back and were silent for a minute.
"Well," Admiral Potter said. "Now that you know of us, I guess we don't need to hide what we're doing."
"We're currently terraforming Mars," Number One said. "Uranus Base, in addition to collecting fuel for us, is collecting elemental nitrogen and oxygen. The Galileo moves what is collected to Mars. We were waiting for the next shipment to be ready when these Goa'uld showed up."
"Terraforming?" said the President, startled, as were all the other people in the room.
"Yes," said Potter. "Earth is getting rather crowded for us. It is getting harder to conceal ourselves, and many of our . . . animals and plants are on the verge of being discovered as you move closer to their habitats. We think moving them to Mars would be much safer for them," he explained. "The greenhouses at Uranus Base have been a help, but they are far too small for our complete needs.
"We expect the atmosphere to be breathable with a half-to-two-thirds surface-ocean in five years. It would be a bit like standing on Mt. Everest in Summer, but survivable. It should take only ten years to bring it into an earth-normal state."
"Ten years?" said one of the others, faintly.
"Now we don't have to pretend that the atmospheric changes are all natural it'll be lot sooner. We were going to make it look like a volcano erupted from the comet's impact had released all those gases and water, space out the changes, work only on the night-side, and so forth. But now? We can speed things up. It shouldn't take more than two years."
"Two years?" someone repeated breathlessly.
"Yes, then we can start moving the plants and other . . . creatures." He sighed. "We will be claiming the planet for ourselves, and we ask that you respect that and leave it alone."
There was a stunned silence.
General Hammond gave his head a quick shake, trying recover his mental equilibrium. He was quickly approaching an information overload. "Why not use a Stargate to go to another world that hasn't any intelligent life forms?"
"We can't. Stargate technology is fatal to us, our plants, and animals," Admiral Potter said.
"Apparently, being reduced to our component atoms, and then energy, removes something vital to us," concluded Number One. "A few have suggested that the soul does not survive the transition, but we haven't experimented for obvious reasons. However, examining the Stargate One team has shown that their souls are intact, so it must be something else."
"Couldn't you just use your ships to go to another world?"
"It's possible, but, believe it or not, this is actually easier and quicker," said Potter. "Not that we're in a rush, mind you." He paused. "Our engineers are doing this to Mars just to see if we can."
"There's another group that wants to see if we can do the same to Venus. It's an interesting challenge," added Number One.
Again, there was silence for a minute.
"Wait!" one of the officials said disbelievingly, "Did you say, soul?"
"Yeeesss?" the Admiral said cautiously.
"You can detect a person's soul?"
"Yes. All humans, and many other creatures, have a soul," Number One stated firmly and flatly. "We verified this many millennia ago."
Hammond leaned back in shock, as did most of the those seated. This was an earth-shattering revelation, something religion devoutly believed in. Many scientists had wanted to definitively answer that question, but were afraid to research because of the potential problems it would cause with the religious.
"Oh. My. God," another official said breathlessly.
"We have looked for gods," the female said, quietly. "We haven't found any, yet." She sighed. "We know, for example, that all the Roman and Greek Gods were one of us fooling the locals, masquerading, pretending. We finally out-grew that charade." She shook her head in disapproval, and it came out in her tone as she said, "Many of our abilities would make us seem god-like to primitives, after all." She sighed. "Not the least of which is living for one or two centuries, or more, when they rarely survived to a third decade."
Hammond blinked. That made the previous revelations almost inconsequential. The implications were obvious — all the current major religions had the potential to be based on lies. There would be a lot of resistance to that! The evangelicals would go ballistic, and claim the aliens were Satan in disguise.
"The same is true for India, China, and other societies where the common people met ours," said Admiral Potter.
"We believe there is a creator of the universe. However, the whys and wherefores are complete unknowns," said Number One.
"Is there an afterlife?" one person asked shakily, clearly dreading and hoping for an answer.
The Admiral sighed. "Our most learned scholars all say that anyone who dies, goes on to the next Great Adventure. Whether that is Heaven, Hell, or reincarnating back on Earth, or possibly on another planet is unknown.
"I don't know if you all have been briefed," he glanced around the room, "but the Jaffa soldiers of the Goa'uld are humans, who have been spread throughout the galaxy by the Stargates. So, reincarnating on another planets is well within the realm of possibilities."
There were stunned expressions all around at the revelations they were hearing.
"There are those who are afraid of death, among our people, who chose to remain here as ghosts," said the First Officer, sadly. "They refuse to say anything more about the afterlife. They claim they cannot say more on the subject."
"Ghosts were real!?" someone exclaimed.
"Ghosts are not that interested in the living, however. They are mostly trapped in the drama of their deaths and former lives," said Potter. "Nearly Headless Nick, for example, is obsessed with joining the Headless Hunt."
"Nearly Headless Nick," came the disbelieving objection.
"The axeman didn't quite decapitate him," came the calm response.
The officials were all exchanging disbelieving looks.
The First Officer stared at the Admiral for a moment.
"Is there a Heaven or Hell?" another officer asked.
The Admiral shook his head. "Not that we can detect. But, then again, the ghosts refuse to say one way or the other." He paused and shuddered. "There are worse things."
"What could be worse than Hell?" asked on incredulous aide.
Potter looked at him. "Oblivion. Knowing that this is it. That when you die, you will cease to exist. Your soul will be destroyed on your death. To never return. To never see your loved one's again." He shuddered again. "That everything you did and experienced was pointless."
He took a deep breath. "Well, enough of that."
Hammond didn't know what to think. He hadn't been that religious of a person, but to have almost all his beliefs about the religion he grew up in thrown into doubt was a tremendous shock.
"Creatures," another official said weakly, "You said other creatures have souls. Could you . . . elaborate?"
The two exchanged glances. Why they bothered when they couldn't see each other's faces was puzzling to Hammond. Or maybe they could?
The First Officer pulled out a book . . . from somewhere. "Well," she said after writing in it and studying it for several minutes, "I'm afraid I must decline to be more precise, at the present moment. They have not wanted to be known to you in the past, and I must respect their desires. You never see them, anyway." She closed her book and looked at the president. "I can say, however, that many of the creatures you regard as mythological are real."
"I do have to warn you, though, that if you don't stop polluting and over-fishing the oceans, you may start losing your submarines, cargo ships, and fishing fleets. There are some who live there who are beginning to get quite annoyed with you, and it is becoming more and more difficult to restrain them."
"I would say pissed," said Potter, "and definitely not in a good way."
The female looked at the Secretary of Defence. "I don't care how powerful one of your submarines is, it will sink to the bottom if some . . . creature were to wrap its propellers in a cast-off fishing net, which was then loaded with rocks. You would never suspect it wasn't an accident, at first."
"Once is an accident," the Admiral said quietly. "Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action."
That opened up a whole new can of worms, Hammond could see the Secretaries of Defence and the EPA giving the president alarmed looks.
After a long pause, the President said, "Why are you being so . . . forthright . . . with information?"
"Why not?" said Number One, with a shrug. "This is all information we would tell you, eventually, anyway. Why put it off? Hiding it now, only for you to learn it later, would be detrimental to our future relationship."
Everyone was quiet as they mulled over the implications of just what the aliens weren't telling them. Things like how many of them lived here, how long they had been here, what their intentions actually were?
That was on top of what they had disclosed about the world's religions.
Would they have revealed themselves if the Goa'uld hadn't come?
Admiral Potter leaned forward. "Now, then, if you don't have any other questions, at the moment, what can you tell us about these Goa'uld? We have nothing in our library regarding them."
"Nor the Jaffa, for that matter," added Number One.
"In order to continue protecting the Earth from those who threaten it, we need to know exactly what you've learned and what you've been doing with your Stargate program."
The President looked at Major General Hammond and nodded. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"I can give you a short summary, but you'll need to send someone to Stargate to get complete records."
The Admiral nodded. "Not a problem."
"We're not sure how many there are, exactly, but the number we've been able to identify so far is forty-five so-called System Lords," he started. "For the most part, as you saw, they're posturing, immoral egomaniacs, driven by an insatiable lust for power. They trust no one, and no one trusts them. They will promise anything with no intention to follow through, and betray anyone to further their plans to gain more power, even their siblings, children, or parents.
"Becoming a System Lord usually involves killing the previous one in betrayal, usually their parent," he said dryly.
"Unfortunately, they assume the persona of a god and rule many worlds by force through their armies of Jaffa warriors. As a result, you can't trust anything their slaves say or do, as they might have been told to say and do those things by their 'god.'" He sighed and shook his head. "There is no more loyal a fighter than one who thinks their god approves of what they are doing and will generously reward them in the afterlife." He kept shaking his head as he said this.
"Their main weakness is their short-sighted feudal nature. The Goa'uld will reluctantly unite to defend against an outside threat. However, they are primarily in a battle among themselves for supreme domination. The greatest danger, to their way of thinking, is the threat of a single Goa'uld rising and taking over the System Lord collective, reducing the others to no more than servants."
The Admiral nodded slowly.
"Is there any chance we can make peace with them?" said First Officer.
Hammond shook his head. "Any peace they make will only be long enough for them to build up their armies until they are large enough to overwhelm us. The only peace they will truly accept is one where they are in charge — and you are dead."
"Huh," Potter said quietly. They sat quietly for almost a moment, then he said, "Give us a few minutes while we discuss this."
After ten minutes, Number One pulled out her book and started making some calculations. She stopped periodically with the attitude of someone listening. At the end, she sighed sadly.
"Well," she said reluctantly, "If worse comes to worst, and they refuse to stand down, we can acquire the required number of Stargates, program them to the relevant addresses, lock them open, and portkey them deep into a star. Even with properly designed shielding, the gates won't last more than a second. Nonetheless, in that second, each gate will blast through their gate a hundred-mile-long column of hydrogen and helium plasma compressed at several thousand atmospheres and at one million degrees kelvin.
"The Library simulations indicate the column will expand sidesways at nearly the same speed. Everything within that cone will be vaporized, everything within a hundred miles outside the cone will melt, and everything within a thousand miles of that will be set on fire. The column will, for the most part, of course, shoot off into space because of the planet's curvature and the plasma's speed. It will take an appreciable portion of the atmosphere with it. Also, some of it will go into orbit around the planet, radiating hundreds of degrees of heat over the entire globe.
"The primary damage it will cause to the planet will extend for several thousand miles in a line from the stargate, at least. Atmospheric compression driven by the column expanding sideways will generate more heat. Plus, a significant proportion of the super-hot plasma will spread throughout the region, starting fires everywhere as the vegetation instantly dries out."
"The plasma will vaporize a trench in the planet's crust down several miles into the mantle and tens of miles in length, creating a super-volcano as the mantle is exposed.
"The biggest problem, however, will be the matter carried into the atmosphere by the fires, and exposure of the mantle, to set off a decades- or centuries-long winter. In a few months, a significant portion of the planet, if not all of it, will likely be uninhabitable." She shivered.
"That should discourage their interference in our affairs," she concluded bleakly.
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