The Ashrak were a specialized group of soldiers - assassins trained with the sole purpose of taking out the enemies of the System Lords. They were first created by the Goa'uld Selket, who disciplined and brainwashed them into complete and utter loyalty, before contracting them to the System Lords.

They held technological and martial secrets kept only within their own creed; knowledge which by all rights should never have found its way to Shezmu. However, Selket had underestimated the deep-rooted desire a Jaffa could have for freedom, once stoked, and one such individual had seen Shezmu's banishment as a window of opportunity. The man had snuck aboard the very vessel he was in right now, while it was being transported to the Garden by Ra, seeking to change his way of life.

The assassin then proceeded to share every torturous yet fascinating detail of what exactly his training had entailed, before swearing off his past and living out the rest of his life in peace. For a long time there had been no need for specially trained soldiers, until recently, when Shezmu felt it was safe to use the Stargate again and began to authorize expeditions.

In the event of war, the few who had chosen to become Ashrak would inject a refined serum into their bodies, extracted from the body of himself as well as his host. It was a very painful process for him, which involved several slim and long tubular threads contained within the metallic bands he wore around his limbs and neck. At the push of a button, they would puncture his skin and burrow through arteries and organs, draining both blood and other vital fluids.

That was the current condition Shezmu found himself in, struggling not to show the immense agony he was suffering. After one of the longest minutes of his life, he removed the bands and handed one to each of the five figures kneeling before him. They were clad in the darkest of black, covered from head to toe in light yet sturdy armor. Only their lower jaws were visible, eyes covered by an advanced visor allowing them enhanced vision and computing abilities.

The figures accepted the bands and held them against the exposed skin just above their throats. It was a testament to the Ashrak's training that they showed no discernable emotion, even less than he himself had, as they experienced the very same pain he did when the serum was injected into various parts of their bodies.

The point of the procedure was to grant them all the benefits that came with possessing a mature symbiote, as Selket's assassins had, such as the highly advanced healing properties that could take care of all but the most lethal of injuries or infections. They also gained slightly augmented speed and strength, and perhaps most importantly, the ability to utilize naquadah-based equipment such as the Hara'kesh.

Not to be confused with the Kara'kesh, the Hara'kesh was a much smaller and more easily concealed version of the former, and one of the Ashrak's greatest secrets. In some respects it was superior to its more common counterpart, as it had additional functions enabling instant healing of small wounds, the ability to see through organic material, and the capacity to send electrical impulses that could overload machinery or even kill an organism. The drawback that came with its smaller size was a limited area of effect and lack of a fully enveloping personal shield.

Of course, Shezmu had immediately seen those functions incorporated into his Kara'kesh, and would be immensely surprised if any other Goa'uld had developed anything even remotely similar.

The Ashrak soldiers stood up, returning his golden bands. He promptly clasped them back in place, where they once again served only as jewelry. Relaxing back into his throne, he fought off the involuntary spasms from the damage caused to his nerves and looked at the five assassins.

"Well done. Heed my words carefully, for they will tell of your assignments." he spoke seriously, making sure they were paying full attention.

"Serpent, you shall locate the Tok'ra Selmak, and ensure his survival. He is expected to be on Ne'tu, and your visor will respond to the probe placed on his person."

The Ashrak known as Serpent nodded once in understanding.

"Scarab, you will locate and secure Apophis, dead or alive, and bring him to this ship without delay. Jackal and Vulture will work together to kill Sokar, and finally, Scorpion will trail my every movement and make certain my actions are unobstructed."

Golden light shone brightly from Shezmu's eyes, and his voice grew deep. "These tasks are of utmost importance. Failure is not an option."

The assassins stood in silence, before lowering their heads. As one, they suddenly spun around and appeared to blend into the shadows.

He usually did not deal in absolutes, but sometimes it became a necessity. Furthermore, his Ashrak were not normal soldiers, to the extent where only himself and Petekh, his Chief of Integrity, knew their former identities. The stoic and wizened man had a single principal duty, to be a judge of character. That meant he oversaw the planet's inhabitants, looking for any, however unlikely, signs of dissent or strife, and also employed Ashrak.

Those who chose to walk that path gave up everything in service of their people. Their lack of identity meant that they could not form bonds with other beings, be they of friendship or love. Even their very families had been purged from their minds. Their cold existence resulted in an unparalleled military proficiency, where devotion to their home meant everything and interrogation would yield no outcome.

It was sad, grim and cruel to live in such a way, but they chose this fate of their own free will and that made it beautiful. To the people of the Garden, they were a paragon of protection, held in the highest esteem. Shezmu was glad that the Ashrak would now have a purpose beyond petty reconnaissance missions, instead doing something worthy of their dedication and no doubt to be sung of in legends.

"Those guys always send a shiver down my spine." Seshem said, approaching him from where she had been standing, at the very edge of the bridge.

"Good. That means they are doing their job correctly." he said, smirking at her discomfort.

The bridge had originally looked like a temple altar, with most of the space decorated with statues and other ornaments, even having curtains hanging down around the throne. Only at the very front, by the viewscreen, was there a single seat with piloting controls.

That was not the case anymore.

A large redecoration had taken place, long ago, with less space committed to his grandeur in favor of efficiency. While a handful of statues still lingered, many had been replaced with large computer screens used to monitor the ship's many engines, weapons and Glider bays. Gone were the curtains, although the throne remained as a central command chair. The area around the piloting controls was now much larger, providing more space as well as more seats.

A circular table stood in front of the throne, surrounded by chairs, where his Chiefs could devise various plans and courses of action. As a matter of fact, they had just gathered for briefing, each of them sitting down before turning to him expectantly. Two pilots had also positioned themselves in front of the command console.

"My Lord, we are ready to depart at your command. However, it would be wise to first speak to the people." Medes commented.

His Chief of Defense was a young Jaffa with hardened features and scruffy blond hair, bleached even further from exposure to the Garden's nearly constant sunlight. Despite his modest age, he had shown a remarkable ability in getting operatives out of tight spots and had definitely saved them from trouble off-world more than once.

"Indeed. I shall speak through the Vo'cume." Shezmu responded, and stood up. Medes nodded at that, pressing a button on the edge of the table. Yellow light illuminated his form from the roof above, enveloping him much like a spotlight would.

The Vo'cume was a handy piece of technology he had chosen to improve upon. Whereas the original would only produce a hologram of pre-recorded messages, this one could transmit information in real-time.

A more impressive upgrade, however, was that the small, rotund device had been taken apart and reassembled, fastened to the very top of the ship's exterior. It was capable of generating a hologram over a hundred times larger than before, thanks to the excess energy provided by the ship. This meant that every single resident in Aaru would be seeing an enormous projection of their god, seemingly hovering above the great pyramid.

Shezmu looked down at the floor, knowing that his hologram would appear to be staring down at his people. Deep down, he was slightly nervous. He had not given a proper speech in ages, and took a deep breath to compose himself.

"People of the Garden, I come before you today to disclose an arduous undertaking. Ever since your ancestors first set foot on this planet with me, they, and their children, and their children's children, have known no other existence. That is not to say that life has not been good to us, for we have prospered."

He spun around on the spot, an action which would appear strange on the bridge, but to the city's inhabitants as though he were turning to face those on the other side of the pyramid.

"Together, we have achieved something truly remarkable. Harmony. There is nothing that could make me more proud than to see so many people living side by side, in peace. Where others would destroy, you build. Where others would wage war, you extend a helping hand. Where others would hate, you love."

He twisted to the side, adopting a solemn expression as he was reaching the difficult part of the speech.

"However, I will not lie to you. This world we have made for ourselves is an exception. It is a deviation from the abhorrent norm that constitutes the rest of the galaxy. Yet, for all its atrociousness, it remains a galaxy that we are a part of."

Shezmu slowly faced the only side he had not acknowledged thus far.

"I believe that each and every one of us has always known, that the day would come when we had to reveal ourselves once again. Our history is written in the very walls around us, and there is not one soul here that knows it not by heart."

He finally assumed his original stance, now speaking as much to the assembled Chiefs in front of him as he was to the people.

"We must face that history, and right the wrongs that were once imposed upon us. It is not a decision that has been made lightly, and I hope you will grace me with the same trust and solidarity that you have shown over the past five millennia. I truly believe that there are none better suited to bring forth an era of greatness to the galaxy, than you. My people."

Shezmu had expected cries of anger and outrage, or at the very least sorrow and despair. He was prepared for nearly every possible negative reaction that should logically follow the disruption of a utopian lifestyle.

What he did not expect were the cheers.

The combined cheers of many tens of thousands of people reached his ears, easily penetrating even the thick metallic walls of the ship. His Chiefs all looked at him with approving smiles, and an indecipherable emotion began to well up in his chest.

It was more than happiness and pride. It took some time for him to figure out what it was, but once he did it hit him harder than a Glider to the face.

It was love.

Shezmu loved his people. He loved the Garden. And he was a Goa'uld.

A tear trickled down his cheek, and yet he could not bring himself to care that the Vo'cume was still activated, or that everyone on the bridge witnessed this moment of weakness.

He raised his hand in farewell, and Medes took that as a sign to dismiss the hologram. The still resounding cheers confirmed in his mind that the right choice had been made. Meanwhile, his First Prime kept looking at him in a way he had never seen before, her eyes gleaming from something suspiciously similar to tears.

"That was beautiful, my Lord." she whispered, catching him slightly by surprise.

"You think so?" he asked. "I was worried that it might have become slightly long-winded."

There was a round of muffled laughter on the bridge, and the atmosphere lightened. He figured now was as good a time as any to depart. Should they wait any longer, the risk was that they might never leave.

"Pilots, take us into orbit and set course for Delmak. It is time to see what this old hunk of metal is capable of."

The pilots worded their affirmations, and with a rumble the sublight engines were ignited. Shezmu felt slightly giddy, despite himself, to be flying again after such a lengthy confinement. He knew the gravitational dampeners inhibited excess force within the ship's hull, but he could have sworn he felt something the moment they took off.

He laughed out loud in amusement at the idea of the people's expressions when they saw the great pyramid taking off into the sky, realizing he had never told them exactly what revealing themselves entailed. There was a reason he had been known as the Trickster God, after all, amongst other titles. Most of the time, however, his tricks were completely unintentional.

Not that anyone believed him.

It was magnificent to see the Garden's horizon become steadily more curved as they rose. The contrast of the green continents against the deep blue of the ocean was one of the most stunning things he had ever witnessed. Eventually the group found themselves in orbit, staring down at the planet from which all but one of them was not native to.

"My Lord, the course for Delmak has been set. Rerouting ninety percent of maximum power to the hyperdrive." one of the pilots apprised, and Shezmu felt his giddiness grow stronger.

A particularly clever scientist had realized that the velocity of hyperspace travel depended on two things - the amount of power fueling the hyperdrive, naturally, but also the size of the subspace window. Given some research, it was possible to have the hyperdrive make use of the ship's power output in a manner similar to the shields. It would leave them more vulnerable and without certain functions, but it was hardly of any consequence while in hyperspace.

All in all, the result was that the hyperdrive became much more efficient than before. Just how much faster they would be traveling remained a mystery, however, since the effects of the subspace window had yet to be accounted for, unlike the thrusters which could be calculated.

From there, the next logical step had been to apply the theory to the sublight engines. By rerouting power from the hyperdrive while not in use, which was not an insubstantial amount, they were able to nearly double the speed of sublight travel. All of that with barely any structural changes; requiring only a bit of clever thinking.

Unfortunately, attempting to do the same with the weapons was not as successful of an endeavor. The staff cannons grew more powerful - much more so - but overheating became a problem and waiting for them to cool down was not a viable option. In any case, as staff cannons were not all they had in the way of armament, it was decided that rerouting power to weaponry could remain a last-ditch effort in dire situations.

Of course, it was one thing to go over it all in theory. Praxis would prove to be another matter entirely.

All of a sudden space seemed to warp and glow violet, just as Shezmu remembered it would, and he grinned when his surroundings blurred and they shot away, crossing unfathomable distances in a matter of seconds. In the periphery, stars appeared as streaks of white light, and the swirling azure patterns in between were as alluring as they were dizzying.

Sokar would not know what hit him until it was too late.