"Normal speech"
"Gothic around non-Imperials."
"Mental Links."
"Ship Names."
"#Ancient to everyone#."
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Ladies and Gentlemen! I present to you the long overdue chapter eighteen. Why the delay you ask? Well it's a long complicated story filled with misery and joy. So here goes. Way back in June when I started writing this thing I was in the middle of some EXTREMLY important exams. And as you might guess this delayed it a little. But all was good and I was keeping to my schedule. Then disaster, my Gran suddenly needed a heart operation. Now as you can imagine this took priority. So most of June floated past with about half of this getting done. Then at the end of June I went travelling. Why, because this is the last year I'll have enough money to do so. For the entirety of July I travelled the world. I won't bore you with the tales but let this be a warning. If you live in a typhoon area invest in good window sealants to avoid unnecessary flooding. Anyhow, so I return to my lovely country at the end of July. Thus between the extra jobs I take to earn some needed cash I begin to write again. Then more misfortune. My Nana falls and fractures her spine. Unlucky three months for the grandparents. So I'm busy with something far more important than this again. I know you understand. Then finally I return to the story only for another set of misfortune to strike. First the roof springs a leak, a big leak. Secondly the lawnmower explodes in my face. Thus I find myself busy trying not to have my house fall apart. Finally deciding that getting this to full length might take until Kingdom Come, I have decided to publish this half length chapter. So enjoy and if you're still reading this fic then thank you for your patience.
He who fell from grace.
One sorry excuse for cyborg Lemming.
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skipper 1337: Hi. Okay a nice long review with lots of lovely ideas. Firstly, although the Imperial Cult teaches anti-xeno laws the planets outside of Goa'uld territories have a far lower percentage of converts. This spawned from the Goa'uld instilled beliefs that when one god defeats another completely the remaining servants of the defeated god should worship the victor. While the other planets are no were near as easy to covert. If you remember the SGC, and by extension the USA and IOA, actually administers the Imperium. And the last thing any of them wanted was rampant insurgency from the Xeno portion of the galaxy. Which would have spelled doom for the fledgling Imperium. So the vast majority of Xeno races simply carry on with their everyday lives. None the wiser that a good portion of the human population wants' to gut them. The galaxy is vast and its relatively simple to keep the sides apart. After all they had been separated for nearly fifty thousand years.
Now as you have said the Milky Way was heavily divided. However the SGC had contacts, both friendly and hostile, within a large swathe of the known galaxy. Really the non-Goa'uld sectors of the Imperium are tied to it by Imperial advancements, fear and the promise of a better future. Most of these worlds actually stayed on the sidelines until the battle of Bellut where the remaining Goa'uld forces were destroyed. The information was passed to those governments and they agreed to join the Imperium peacefully. That is why the Imperium suddenly jumped in size between Bellut and the Replicon invasion. It was a mixture of military and economic manoeuvring that gained their compliance. The Marines for all their terrible might could only fight so many foes and didn't have anywhere near the resources to force themselves on the galaxy. The sudden increase in ships and weapons comes from the united galaxy not just the conquered.
Next, unfortunately Earth going onto a war footing is pretty much useless. Sure it has an unprecedented industrial infrastructure. But there is one big flaw. Over ninety nine point nine nine percent of that industry isn't suited to handling Naquadah or working in space. With the ships needing to be built in space and Naquadah being the main component in most advanced technologies renders much of Earth's power useless. The process of constructing space docks has begun but most of the Imperial fleet comes from Goa'uld and a few other races shipyards. The one thing they do have is expertise. Which can be shipped off world much faster than Naquadah and other materials can be shipped in. Walkers. Well while cool, I can't see a link. The Dreadnought and Sentinels are really the only ones, but the Tech-priest twitchy when it comes to outsiders examining the ancient Battle-Brothers. But hey; why not. I'm sure the inventive (read unstable) minds at the SGC and Asgard Remnant could whip up some new instruments of death. War necessitates a different set of morals.
Huitt1989: Why thank you. The praise is much appreciated. Hate enriches.
EdGuess: Thanks. I try to keep to the canon as much as possible but at times I've just got to wing it. I'm sorry if the personalities are a little off I'm just running this from memory. So my perceptions might be a little jaded. PM me you guess on the ending, I would like to see how close you are. Hell you might actually change it. Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none.
The Amazing chicken dinner: Yes, yes it would have. Ignorance is your best defence.
Sdarain: Thanks for ready anyway. I know the Atlantis series can be quite tedious at times and it lacks the pure awesomeness of SG-1 but it can be cool at times. If I haven't cleared it up in this chapter it time I'm messing with. Davidenko; okay she has a watered down version of the Ancient gene. Which Levi, in his attempts to save her from the Replicon hive mind, awoke and strengthened by bringing the warp into contact with her mind. She used Psyker powers once before back in the SGC. Since that time the Replicon cells in her body, which are programmed to keep her alive at any cost so she can complete her missions, have analysed and adapted to them. In the end the warp powers are just energy and the one thing that Replicon and Replicators do well is channel energy. The awakening of her powers comes from her exposure to the Tyranid hive mind. Which can drive proper Psykers insane, in her case it again reinforce her powers. Although her body is still not suited to controlling the power. They have to get back to their own times by themselves. The only true achievement is Purity.
Trife: I am so sorry. So very, sorry. Thanks for the compliment. Fear denies faith.
AngleForm: This is some minus forty million years from the present. Most records of that time are long gone. Like the fact Ancients were once Alterans and the Ori. The Alterans at this point are still in their total pacifism mode. So their military technology is mostly based off of the Furling and Asgard. A Replicator ship has been shown to be dispersed and destroyed by fire from three O'Neill class Asgard battleships. The Nova cannon not only neutralises the Necrodermis it also provides enough kinetic energy to break the bonds between the blocks. Combined with anti-replicator weapons it's a very powerful combo. Their ability to survive energy weapons, from my understanding, comes from the energy that binds the blocks together. In the end energy is energy and transforming it is relatively simple. In the show they were shown as being stunned for a second after receiving a staff blast. Clone O'Neill, he's still a private because it would seem weird if a seventeen year old was an officer without any formal training under his belt. To be just, our law must be cruel.
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The strange group of humanoids stood on the empty bridge, the ship was apparently being operated by the Furling from engineering. The main window showed them what lay ahead. Space was on fire. It was the only description that came to Sheppard. All around the Aquila plasma and lasers flashed. Detonating clouds of organic projectiles, washing over shields that flickered through a rainbow of colours, burning through flesh and bone and metal with vehemence. Sheppard watched as a giant creature shuddered and writhed. Its innards exposed to the cold of space by a cloud of tiny silver ships. He watched as what he could only describe as a three kilometre Dreadnought was ripped in half by a pair of claws. The massive creature rammed one flaming half of the dying ship into a tooth filled mouth that could swallow the Aquila with ease. Tentacles expanded from the orifice wrapping around the dead ship crushing it into the mouth. Replicas of the Aquila raced past them, firing emerald green particle beams from their cannons that carved at the feeding Hive ship's carapace. Mycenic Spores raced past the Alteran ship, brining even more creatures down towards to the world's surface.
One of the Alteran ships exploded. A hailstorm of bony spikes tearing through its debris. Another ship was hit. Its shields flaring for a moment before the metal hull buckled. The crew spilling into the void, their screams lost to the darkness. The long, thin, trilobite shaped vessels swerved away from the retaliation fire, jets of gas propelling it.
Some distance away a ship trailing pieces of its hull and streams of gas plunged into the side of a fairly large Hive ship, as it unleashed a wave of organic weapons, engulfing them both in plasma and energy. Seconds later the tiny sacs of acid and toxins battered against an Asgard ship that had lost its shields. The hull melted in seconds, spilling the Asgard crew into the void. In retaliation a squadron of Asgard ships quickly blew a huge organic Hive to meaty hunks with plasma and lasers.
"What is this?" Carter asked as the main cannons of the Apuilia eviscerated a small escort drone sending it tumbling away as a cloud of flesh and black ichor.
"This is the last tooth of the Nidhogg." Tror said, bracing himself as a bio-plasma blast clipped the ships shields.
The Aquila raced further and further away from the planet towards a small cluster of Alteran and Asgard ships. This second fleet seemed to be waiting for something to happen as they held back from the battle. Before Carter could ask another question one of the many blank screens flickered to life, showing an aged Alteran male. Behind him smoke and steam billowed uncontrollably and the image constantly faded and jumped.
"Your mission was a success?" It wasn't a question, it was a demand.
Before Tror could answer a musical chime came from behind them, quickly followed by a slightly mechanical sounding. "You will know. Soon."
Vanem and Samuel stared at the Furling. It was in some kind of strange suit. The thing was huge, if it uncurled its four thin legs it would stand twice the height of either Marine. A thick body sat on top of the four legs. It was vaguely square with the edges and lines gently flowing into one another and a large ridge that ran down the centre of the torso. Its shoulders were broad and thick coming up to the level of its head and protruding far past its body. The arms were thin like its legs a double thumbed, four fingered, hand at the end of each arm. Like the legs there were many visible joints allowing the arms to fold neatly to the sides of the suit. The head was large and like the body organically blockish with six circular bright blue eyes that sat in a 'V' pattern on the front of the head. The entire thing was comprised of a reddish brown material that covered what looked like black cloth. The cloth could only be seen at the joints. Strange symbols embossed in gold trailed down the left side of the creatures head, its right shoulder with larger script going down the centre ridge. Currently its head was tilted slightly towards the Imperials with the top and bottom set of eyes irises slightly closed. It seemed to be looking at, and yet somehow beyond, them.
"That's an affirmative." Tror said, ignoring the Furling's entrance.
"And who are they?" The Alteran asked, narrowing his eyes at the Terrans and Marines.
"Those who bear the name of Power." Was the Furling's answer. "He" thereby moved his gaze from the screen to the Marines, his eyes opening fully.
"We don't know." Tulinen hissed. The Furling language, comprising of different paralell layers of sounds many below or above the hearing range of the other three races, was hard to translate into Asgard or Alteran at the best of times. Leading many to ignore the cryptic statements Furlings made. And others to dissect each statement searching for the insight hidden within....
"Are they hostile?" The old Alteran asked, his wrinkled face crinkled in thought. His eyes betraying his age. And sorrow.
"Not at the moment." Tror responded, glancing over at the bolter held loosely in Vanem's hands.
"The Wind is both savage and tender. Usurping scarlet thrones to charge across the heavens." The Furling chimed in, its eyes sweeping over the Imperials, an un-translated note that sounded forlorn followed. "Time is the adjudicator."
"We'll deal with them later." The Alteran responded while a confused frown flashed across his face for a second at the Furling's statement.
"Don't we get a say in this?" Sheppard asked.
"No." Was the Alteran's curt response before he cut the line.
"Come." The Furling suddenly ordered, its six eyes centering on Davidenko.
"Why?" Carter asked watching the Furling as it turned around surprisingly gracefully.
"Clarity." The bizarre creature responded, its four legs carrying it out of the bridge without a sound.
"Well that was weird." Sheppard muttered.
"Should we follow?" Samuel asked, tilting his head in confusion as the back of the creature disappeared around a bend.
"It knew we're lost." Carter said looking to the others for some sort of plan.
"You should follow it." Tror suddenly spoke up. "A Furling, especially a Mayyit, never does anything unless it is important."
"A what?" Vanem asked confusion clearly written on his face.
"For an Alteran you are not that well informed." Awyn quietly said, her hands dancing over one of the control boards around the bridge. Tulinen sat next to her, a complex cascade of runic symbols dancing over his screen.
"Oh well, onwards and upwards." Sheppard said cheerfully following the Furling path. However his P-90 was held tightly in his hand.
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Orllan shifted his rifle from one shoulder to another. An explosion near the front line erupted high into the air, as the fighting again flared up. With a sigh he turned on his heel and started back towards his post. His patrol as always had been uneventful. The beach would have been a good place to relax had it not been dotted with the stripped down shuriken turrets from the Kaerathaì Baermon. A few other Zerfàrim manned these positions. The skeleton crew that had survived the crash had been stretched thin and the defensive line at the beach had been given a low priority by the command staff. A whole day had passed after the disappearance of Thane Ghen'Hòar and the Zerfàrim had been on the back foot ever since the storm ended. With Sàdo'Kel overseeing a valiant retreat back to the Kaerathaì Baermon. Even now the heavily damaged self destruct device was being repaired at a frantic pace.
Orllan hummed a small tune as the sun began to set on the second day of fighting. The humans had fought with a ferocity that he and many others had not expected. The beach hadn't seen a bit of action, the point defence weapons of the ship deterring any aerial or amphibious assault. The waves crashed gently against the shore and Orllan found himself smiling slightly at the beauty of the forest planet.
Out from the shore a shadow moved in the water. An explosion sent salty spray everywhere. The last thing that passed through Orllan's head before he died was a seventy five calibre mass reactive bolt. The detonation splattered the beach with the insides of his cranium.
The other dozen or so Zerfàrim on the beach turned to the headless corpse weapons raised to pour shuriken into the ocean. A hail storm of metal death broke the surface of the ocean, boiling up the once calm and clear waters. The entire squad died as the bolts either blew them apart or fragments of metal and bone shredded them. The skirmish was over in less than five seconds.
A dark figure rose from the water, his red eyes gleaming in the fading light. Others followed, water gushing off their armour. Eyes, auspexes and targeting sensors washing over the scenery as they marched, unopposed, onto the beach. Weapons poised to unleash death on anything that moved.
Nearly eighty Marines emerged from the water. Their black armour silhouetted against the setting sun. Quickly and quietly they secured the small group of the lightly defended weapon emplacements.
"Brother. Another squad approaches." A voice hissed into the vox in Nestor's ear.
The helmeted second in command of the Sons of Sol turned to the direction his HUD showed. The Eldar were coming and the Tactical and Devastator Marines were not in place yet. The underwater trek had been taxing even for the Marines. Fending off razor toothed shark like things as you moved under deadly pressures in near darkness was not an easy feat. However the ancient, and glorious, efforts of the Emperor had seen to it that his Angels could go where other men could not. Clearing the unnecessary thoughts from his head, Nestor turned to the task at hand.
The Zerfàrim had been notified the moment the patrol had gone dark. Another squad was immediately dispatched to see what was going on. The fighter pilots had been long pulled to make up for the lack of men to guard the ship. So air support or recon was not an option. The squad of Guards carefully advanced down the coast line checking on each of the batteries. The lines connecting them to the operator in the ship seamed intact so far. And no hostiles had been seen yet. Maybe it was a clandestine communication failure. The leader sighed at the thought. It was never that simple.
The leader of the squad was diving onto his stomach before he realised as the Zerfàrim on his left was incinerated in a ball of plasma. Twin missiles soared over head detonating against the shuriken cannon behind them sending metal shards screeching through the air. The leader desperately fired at the position that was raining death down on his subordinates. The magnetically propelled shurikens lacked the accuracy or power to do any damage at such a long range.
"Curses." The Zerfàrim leader hissed as a blinding white pillar of light turned one of his charges, and the wrecked chunk of shuriken cannon she was hiding behind, into molten slag.
There were just too many of them. If they just could disengage and bring back some of the heavy firepower from the front line. But that would let the un-armoured humans storm the Kaerathaì Baermon. However the black ones were closer to the Zerfàrim Frigate and had proven extremely dangerous in most situations. That would make them the higher priority. His thoughts ended when a white flash accompanied with a faint humming. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Turning slowly around he came face to face with a large black box on legs.
"Despair! For I am your end." Hadril boomed, one of his huge fists clamping around the Zerfàrim leader before crushing his bones into dust.
"Brothers, the way is clear. Advance." Nestor ordered as the Assault squads materialized around him. Tonight the Eldar would be broken.
Nestor unhooked his helmet and looked up at the now clear night sky. "Where are you?" He muttered into the night. Neither hide nor hair had been seen of Levi, Vanem, Samuel or Angelus since they had dropped from the Ragnarok. Or the teams they had met up with. A long sigh escaped his lips. He turned away from the faint stars that were flourishing into life. His eyes, dark iron that held no pity, looked to the crumpled Eldar ship. The iron softened for a moment while his mind drifted to his friends.
But Angelus had given an order. And he would carry it out. Even if his whole world was swallowed by fire and shadow. His eyes once again turned to steel and the Marine advanced towards his goal. He had Xenos to purge.
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It was official. McKay hated forests, woods, jungles or any form of wooded area. Three times they had been attacked by armoured soldiers. The woman and child were, unfortunately for them, now stuck with the wandering star god-man. The child seemed not to be affected by the carnage that McKay wrought, but his mother was absolutely terrified. She had taken to muttering prayers to the Ancestors to take back their Nexi Lorde (Lord of Death). McKay himself wastoo preoccupied to give much notice to the mutterings. An internal battle between his newly imposed hunger for energy and his desire not to literally eat everyone in sight was reaching its peak.
True to its words the C'tan hadn't resurface to massacre its way through the universe. But it had been filling McKay's head with sensations and thoughts. The things malicious laughter was almost a constant. With the unfortunate scientist having to resist the urges that followed. This was not helped by the near endless flow of people he had to kill.
"How much further?" McKay asked politely. His attempt at being friendly only deepened the woman's terror.
"Close! Very close!" She squeaked, trying desperately to ignore the pool of blood at her feet.
"Good." The reaction on the woman's face was instantly wiped away. But it could be said that it was the same as if she were looking at the Chaos gods themselves.
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Flesh hitting flesh was a very distinctive sound. Angelus had fought on uncountable worlds. Battled things that could shatter the minds of lesser men. However there was always a little place in his mind that winced at the sound of a thorough beating.
"What should we do?" O'Neill asked. The Supreme Commander of the Second Imperium of Man was currently acting as guard of their agreeably docile captive. Waking up in a glass filled hole surrounded by people who would take any excuse to put a bullet, sword or explosive bolt through you head and or body tended to have such an effect.
"Intervene. They're the first living people we've found." Angelus answered. Wherever they were it was massive and Imperial built. However the crumbling prefab huts had so far been deserted except for a few dead beggars under the harsh sun.
"Are all you people so blunt? Or is it just the ones I've met?" Ommarin quipped. Her attempt to lighten the mood only made Angelus and O'Neill glare at her.
"Sometimes it is necessary to prioritise." Angelus answered, drawing his power sword from its scabbard. The destructive field surging into life with a gentle whisper.
"Why?" Ghen'Hòar asked. Her curiosity getting the better of her pride.
"Replicons." O'Neill hissed before pushing her forward.
Three figures stood over a fourth, who lay curled on the ground, kicks raining down on him. Of the three standing the largest, and probably the leader, was wearing a grubby version of an I.G.L. uniform. The flak jacket was ripped in several places and the shirt was missing its sleeves. Ragged edges marking where they had been. The trousers were covered in dark stains with a large patch of blue cloth over one knee. The one on the soldiers left was a small man. Not even clearing the shoulders of the leader. He was in a simple leather vest and trousers, similar to what many would wear in the Pegasus Galaxy. The third was a tall thin man who had a smile that bordered on insanity covering his face. He was naked from the waist up, his trousers a shredded pair of military issues. The remnants of a twin headed eagle could be seen on his chest. Angry red scars marked where a brutal attempt had been made to remove it.
All three froze when Angelus rounded the corner of the deserted street. Eyes bulged out of heads when his status as an Astartes clicked in their minds.
"Shit." The leader mumbled. He was already perspiring heavily and his eyes were darting around the deserted street.
"Fuck." The small one echoed, slyly sliding in behind the taller one.
The half naked ones reaction was markedly different. "What we got here? A Space Marine? We aint't breaking no laws so get lost." He all but shouted flinging his arms wide for emphasise.
"Don't mind him sir. He hasn't been right since the Gates of Drjugr Fold. Sir." The leader said, grabbing the offending man by the arm.
"Kicked them little bastards straight back to the burning husk o' Terra we did!" The boisterous one shouted waving his free arm above his head.
"We'll take our leave now." Quickly the leader retreated down the street, pulling his freind along. While the little one following quietly behind
"Burning husk of Terra?" Angelus repeated his eyes narrowed. The power sword automaticaly returned to its sheath as the Marine moved towards the downed figure.
"Okay that was weird." O'Neill said, readjusting his cap. His face was a mixture of the expressions of worry and what could only be described as 'what the fuck'.
"Isn't Terra your home world?" Ommarin asked. Her question was innocent enough but Ghen'Hòar was listening intently.
"Yep. Heart of the Imperium. Cradle of humanity. Last stop of the Ancients." O'Neill said proudly. "Best damn fishing in the Galaxy."
"O'Neill, enough about the Terran fish. Atlantis was far superior." The Space Marine said, sternly turning over the figure on the ground.
"Only because we got to use Bolters. But you can't eat a fish that has depleted uranium... in... it..." The sentence died in his throat as he looked down at the man on the ground. He looked aged, thinner and the blood running from a gash on his head covered some of his face. But there was no mistake. "Daniel?"
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"So now it ends." Suen muttered. The Space Marines were fighting their way closer and closer. The pathetically thin line of Zerfàrim little more than a mild obstruction. They would reach the ship in an hour. Maximum.
He was walking through the medical section of the Kaerathaì Baermon. Moans and groans followed him. The Naqahdah in his host's blood pulsed at the pleading look the Zerfàrim warriors were giving him. So like his, long dead, Jaffa. Shame they had to die too. A shiver of fury coursed through him, easily disguised by his location. Zerfàrim made such bad hosts.
The Imperials were merciless. That much he knew. Naqahdriah enhanced petroleum weapons deployed from low altitude. The near invisible blue flames might never go out. He had ordered a retreat when the Astartes had breached the beach's defences. The forest had turned into a burning hell a few minutes later.
He could feel what was coming next. The Tau'ri had a strange love of fusion weapons and the Imperium was no different. Soon the nukes would fall. All that was left was to make sure he and a few, carefully chosen, survivors miraculously lived until the Zerfàrim fleet arrived. Then a little jump into a new host and watch the Expedition Force be crushed under Zerfàrim fury. And finally his ultimate revenge; as the Imperium died under the emerald flames of Gauss and waves of Replicon Naqahdah blocks. Beautiful.
Suen could feel his host revulsion at the plan. To use so many lives in such a selfish errand was almost unthinkable to Sàdo'Kel. But unfortunately for him he had a member of the most insidious parasitic race to ever live latched onto his brain stem. Fate can be such a bitch.
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"The right hand of the monkey grasps the star. A pride that has them resemble a blade." Sheppard could see why nearly everyone ignored the Furling. It was like listening to the badly translated ramblings' of a madman. For all he knew that's what they were.
"What?" He moaned for the umpteenth time.
"Failings and triumphs." It said. A groan came from the Imperials behind Sheppard. Their heads were hurting.
"Look you said something about clarity. Right?" Sheppard prompted. He had become the spokesman for the group. Carter was too busy running around the Alteran engine room. Davidenko was clearly in a lot of discomfort. Something he chalked up to her newly re-awakened Psyker powers. And Samuel and Vanem. Well they had a tendency to shoot first, burn next, maybe bombard from orbit then think about asking questions. If they could be bothered.
"Yes." It chimed calmly.
"And?" Again Sheppard pushed, hoping for some form of progress.
"I have seen. You will listen." It said. Its legs had pushed the main body forward. The head had extended away from the body. The distance from Sheppard's face was a few inches and the blue eyes almost bore holes into him.
"Okay." Sheppard muttered. Unsettled by the creatures gaze. Unsure about what was happening.
"You wish to know how you came." It whispered. The volume level was the same. So was the tone. But it just seemed like a whisper.
"Yes." Sheppard said enthusiastically. "Guys get over here." He called to the other Imperials.
"Explain." The Furling ordered. Sheppard's face fell at the strange order. The creatures left arm had unfolded and was pointed at Tror. The Furling slowly withdrew from Sheppard's personal space. Its eyes never leaving him.
"Explain what?" Tror queried. Looking from the Furling to the Imperials and back.
"Me." The sounds were sad. Depressing to listen too. The translations tone was as flat as always.
"Why? Everyone knows what happened." Tror demanded, surprised by the demand. "What happened to you." He said much quieter. The Furling was already turning away, its eyes narrowed at him. Tror swallowed heavily.
Sheppard turned to Tror. The Asgard was looking uneasy. He was watching the back of the Furling as it made its way to the other end of the room. Towards a large device that he'd never seen on any other Alteran ship.
A cough broke him out of his thoughts. "Well?" Sheppard asked impatiently.
"You don't know?" Tror asked incredulously.
"Do we look like we do?" Samuel retorted. His usually calm temperament was being stretched by the Furling's enigmatic nature.
"Who are you?" The Asgard demanded his eyes narrowed.
"Just some travellers; trying to get home." Carter responded a false smile adorning her face.
The Asgard sighed. Why couldn't anything be simple? "Okay let's start with the basics. What do you know of the Furlings?" A room full of confused glances and shifting eyes met his question. "Right. Why am I not surprised?" Tror muttered.
"Hey! We know that they were one of the Four Great Races." Sheppard said proudly.
"Were?" Tror was getting really confused now.
"Are! Are! I totally meant are." Sheppard shouted earning him a series of side way glares.
"Tnon Rdlim. Torb nimm nema."Tror moaned in Asgard.
"This grows tiresome. I wish to return. Sheppard convince the Xeno to help us." Vanem demanded, the novelty of Ancient engine room slowly wearing off.
"I don't think accosting it is a good idea." Davidenko said, rubbing her temple. The pain had died down slightly.
"Oh don't even think of that." Tror said frantically. "As much as I like a good fight Furlings can be extremely dangerous. Firing energy everywhere, shape shifting and they're harder than stone. Plus they can get inside your head."
"Sounds... dangerous." Samuel said at loss for words.
"It's worse with a Mayyit. They can't control themselves at times." Tror said solemnly.
"What? It seems perfectly stable." Samuel said, glancing over to the Furling as it strode around silently.
"That's what the suit is for. Stops them hurting each other; and us." Tror said flatly. He had long abandoned the pretence that these beings were Alterans.
"Hurting how?" Sheppard inquired. Both his and Samuel's eyes had flickered towards the ailing Davidenko.
"Well you know the Furlings have always been telepathic. Right?" A small chorus of no's and sigh from Vanem was Tror's answer. "Of course not." He muttered.
"Okay then. Simply put." Eager nods met Tror's statement. "The Furlings were experimenting with parallel-dimensional power sources. There was an accident. A big; a really big accident. And now some of them, some of them can't stop re-living that moment." Tror added sadly.
"And how does that make them dangerous?" Samuel asked. If parallel-dimensional meant what he thought then they were all in trouble.
"Imagine the death cries of a third of your race. Then imagine that you can actually feel them. Feel them dying." Tror was getting annoyed at the obvious lack of concern from the Marines. "But at the same time your natural abilities have been enhanced beyond comprehension."
"Mental powers tied to emotions. Like a..." Vanem trailed off his eyes widening in fear.
"Psyker." Samuel whispered.
Both marines whirled around faster than the human eye could follow Bolter and Bolt pistol poised to blast the Furling apart if it moved a single inch closer. "Don't move Xeno!" Vanem shouted. The Furling turned to face them its head slightly tilted to the right and all six eyes wide open.
"What have you been doing to Davedenko?" Samuel demanded, ignoring the confusion on everyone else's' face.
"Learning." The Furling stated.
"You could have asked." Sheppard growled. Both his and Carters weapons joining the Marine's.
"You would not answer. You preserve your future." It reasoned. "You have travelled before."
"What do you mean the future?" Tror shouted, glaring at both the Imperials and the Furling.
"They are your tomorrow. They are your doom." The Furling responded. Its upper two eyes focusing on Tror.
"Enough. Tell us everything you know. Now." Vanem demanded.
"Not yet. It is too early." A hiss came from the suit and a faint blue light escaped from its back. "The guests are yet to assemble."
The only warning anyone got was Davidenko's scream before she fainted. The light coming from the back of the suit intensified and out of it rose a creature unlike any the Imperials had seen before. The creature was composed of blue crystals that looked like glass but reflected very little light. Inside it a deep purple, almost black, mist swirled, bolts of energy leaping around in it. The mist seemed to trace the hazy outline of a humanoid skeleton. Its head was avian. Sharp angles that ended with a perfectly flat front. Along the top running backwards grew jagged protrusions that looked like hair or a crystal crown. Its torso was thin and lanky. Vaguely humanoid but lacking in any detail like the rest of its body. The arms were too long, reaching down to its knees. The hands were long and thin. Delicate but at the same time powerful. The fingers had one too many joints in them and ended in sharp tips. The legs were like the arms too long for the body. Its feet had three toes forward and one back. Again with one too many joints in them. Each ended in a dangerous point. Like a bird of prey's. Each and every joint in the Furling's body was marked with a ring of jagged crystals that contracted or expanded in a flurry of sparks when they moved.
The details of the Furling were lost as an unbearable pain bore down on the Imperials and Tror. Sheppard held his head screaming at the top of his voice as images of death and destruction flashed through his mind. He felt through a billion minds and bodies as the world seemed to ignite in an unholy pinkish red fire before his mind was shattered into tiny pieces. The same pattern repeated endlessly. The pain was maddening, the grief, rage and fear that followed instantly only compounding it. Everyone lost consciousness almost instantly their minds attempting to escape the torture.
The Furling looked down on the group of cataleptic beings. Sorrow and self-loathing welled inside it. It hadn't wished for this. The Marines, as the female called them, and the other humans had reacted faster than it had expected. An interesting second evolution of the Alterans. Little wonder the Asgard saw fit to befriend them.
The head swung around to face towards the planet below. The mist inside its body swirling faster; the lighting storm inside that intensifying. The flat front of its face vibrated making a simple melody of light sounds. A second later the suit spoke up. "She is here."
An alarm began to screech throughout the Alliance fleet. Followed by panicked screams of. "Energy vortex detected! Dimensional shift in progress!"
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"You came!" Kevl boomed clapping Levi vigorously on his auto-reactive shoulder plate.
"I am merely seeking information." Levi said politely. He patted Kevl on the back almost sending him to the ground. Everyone seemed to find that very amusing.
The camp was, in a word, a mess. Hastily assembled shacks housed women and children that looked half starved. Men sat in groups either nursing wounds or drowning their sorrows. Moaning and screaming came from the largest hut, along with the powerful stench of death. The improvised weapons lay in bundles, spears, rusted farm tools, bow, crossbows, swords and pointed sticks making up the arsenal. Kevl was busy exclaiming the battle prowess of Levi to a group of sceptical males leaving the one-man army to wander around the camp.
Levi hadn't got three steps before two large and heavily muscled men appeared. "Would you come with us?" The one on the right asked. His hand slid down towards what looked like a pistol.
"To see this Ronon Dex?" Levi asked making the one on the left nod. "Then lead on."
As a Space Marine Levi was used to seeing humans being ground down by war. He had seen what happened when the Imperial Guard Command lost control. He had seen what happened when faith faltered. He had seen what happened when armies turned on themselves. This camp, these men. It all had the look, the smell, of humans on the edge.
The tent Levi was taken too resembled the rest. The only discernable difference was the guard. If you could call him that. The old man was leaning heavily on what looked like a single shot gunpowder weapon. It was a strange phenomenon but on almost every world in the Imperium there existed gunpowder weapons. A remnant of Terran history perhaps.
"Go on in." The old man chuckled, revealing a single yellowed tooth in his mouth.
Levi pushed aside the flap that covered the entrance. Inside was a single short wooden table around which sat four men. One was old and heavy set, his clothes better quality then the others. Another was dressed in furs and a single large black tattoo covered part of his face. The third was a young man who wore rags, his eyes were wide and darted around constantly. Finally at the head of the table sat a dark skinned man. His hair was done in dread locks, his clothes old and worn. A strange black pistol sat in front of him. A large map was strewn across the table pebbles, coins and few carved pieces of wood sat ontop of it.
"The main force resides in this area." The one in furs said gesturing at a group of pebbles. "There are reports of Wraith in the castle." He said again gesturing at the wooden markers.
Ronon's eyes flickered up to the large blue armoured man that had just entered. "That's all for now."
The three men filed out, casting wary and inquisitive glances at Levi. In return the Librarian just stared back. His hand slowly moved towards his force sword. Behind him he felt his two escorts tense.
"Leave." Ronon commanded his eyes never leaving the map. The two escorts glanced at each other before complying. "Who are you?" He demanded.
"Levi." The Astarte Psyker responded. A faint smile graced his face. This man was strong. In both body and mind. Rudimentary psychic defences deflected his weaker attempts to probe the man's mind.
"Is what I hear true?" Ronon continued. He knew something was different about this man, if that was his true identity, but he couldn't quite place it.
"Depends on what you hear." Levi said. He wanted to information and randomly ripping people apart was the less efficient way. Silently he took the seat opposite Ronon. The small wooden chair gave a groan of protest before collapsing.
"Need some help?" Ronon taunted the blue armoured warrior. Levi cursed himself for losing some of his intimidation factor.
"I am fine." The Librarian stated. "Now what is it you want?" he continued, tiny sparks dancing in the depths of his Hood. An internal smile grew as he noticed Ronon's eyes widen at the display.
"Kevl; he said you threw fire and lightening from your hands. He says you are faster and stronger that any Wraith." Ronon said, staring deeply into Levi's eyes. "He said you were like an avenging god." He continued after a small pause.
The Space Marine leaned closer. An action that made Ronon's hand dart towards his pistol. "And what if it was true?" Levi leaned back, happy that he was achieving his goals. "I've answered your questions how about you answer some of mine?"
Ronon's eyes widened slightly as the strange behemoth of a man in front of him smirked. His answer was drowned out by an explosion. Both of the warriors leapt out the tent. Through the trees black smoke drifted. Then something caught Levi's eye. Something terrible. A faint green glow danced within the smoke.