Aannd we get to imperial politics, some scene appropriate music and Bra'tac!
.....
Dakkara
How he
missed this place, the capital of the greatest Empire the universe had ever seen. The center of a cosmic golden age that had risen from the ashes of a million years of darkness, decay and decline. The ancient Capital of the remnants of the Ori and the second world his father liberated, the site where his grandparents were killed, and the rebellion evolved from a pair of lonely outposts to a fire that consumed whole galaxies and cleansed it of the filth that dared to hold his ancestors in bondage. Dakkara had been many things, the symbol of the expansion of their slave rebellion, the nexus of their cultural power and the birth world of the Jaffa race.
Two billion Jaffa lived in the shining blue, green and rust colored gem, another four billion baseline humans, six hundred million Serrakin and a small kingdom of Unas scattered among the immense archipelago’s that dotted the ocean around Dakkara’s southern pole. One hundred thousand years ago, Dakkara had been a wasteland. It’s red, dust covered surface mirroring the sickness that was ravaging the Ori and their dead Alteran brothers, but Yu, Prometheus and Ra had turned it into a verdant paradise, keeping solely the largest eastern continent as the rust colored hellscape the rest of the world had been. There in the dune seas, amidst oasis and the hybrid animals that were a mix of Tau’Ri beasts and local fauna lay the ancient temple of light. Guarded by War Master Bra’tac it was the center of all martial learning and knowledge for the Jaffa warrior race. While Chulak would always be the military industrial center of the Empire, Dakkara was where the greatest Jaffa were trained by the retired first Primes of many system lords and under the leadership of Bra’tac of Dakkara formerly of Chulak.
Apophis, the war god, the master of expansion. The gold and silver colored Tel’tak would have trembled under its owner’s fury at the thought of the name had he not more self-control. In the Imperial religion, Apophis and Athena were the gods of war, strategy, expansion and defense and Horus mighty Falcon was the god of the Hunt, of athleticism, of discipline and skill. Looking at the muscular, tall man that sat upon a throne covered in exotic pelts and furs an enormous golden sword resting against his knee one might be forgiven for assuming he was the god of war. Unlike Apophis who kept himself bald, Horus’ golden hair long and fell about his shoulders like a mantle. Several long braids trailed down the length of his chest while others fell down his back to coil on the cushions. One of his hands was metallic and gold in color, robotic and clawed. A hand taken by his kid sister Egeria during her rebellion and though he could have in time grown back the hand; Horus preferred a prosthetic. A reminder of the price of keeping one’s guard low, of allowing love for one’s family to cloud one’s judgment. A mistake he would not repeat with his uncle.
They entered the atmosphere just as the sun was setting on the southern most western continent, what looked like a series of mountain ranges looming in the sunset. Mountain ranges that were in fact towers belonging that were part of the
Iwnw the marvel, the wonder, the center of political and administrational power, the seat of governance of the greatest Empire the universe had ever seen. The beacon, the flame of civilization, the heart of the fire at the center of creation. At twenty thousand square kilometers
Iwnw was as much a city as a palace. Half a million people lived within its walls and another million worked in and around it. Though the southern wing of the palace belonged exclusively to the House of Ra, it hadn’t been where he grew up. Horus was born on the world that was the epicenter of the rebellion. The primordial home world of the races that made up the Goa’uld and Horus had been raised in what were now the ruins of the hermitage there. The Tel’tak landed on a concealed pad near one of the grand hanging gardens that dotted the Western Wing. Suspended on anti-gravity pads each block of plants represented a different group of tropical flowers or vines from across the empire. Water flowed against gravity, rising “upwards” and feeding a river that flowed through the air towards a series of cisterns and pipes that fed other sections of the palace.
Ordinarily the arrival of Prince Horus would have come with much fanfare but today he hadn’t even bothered to announce his coming or send a herald. Today his meeting had to be secret, for today the House of Ra was discussing the unthinkable and the very real consequences that potentially came with such talk.
But what choice do I have? My uncle has gone mad.
There were many system lords who were cynics, many who were overly ambitious, but what they all held in common was a belief that the Empire, the dream they built from the ruins of their chains was bigger than all of them. Though none embodied that belief quite like Prince Horus of the house of Ra who was the closest thing one could find to a Goa’uld zealot. On earth, he’d be called an ultra-nationalist. The Tollan called him a fanatic, the Asgard a supremacist and Apophis called him a fool playing at patriotism. Horus was loyal, he was a good son and that was why he was here.
He came alone, save only for Garek his chamberlain. The dark skinned, hoarse voiced behemoth of a man was born a peer, one of the sons of Ame-No-Manakushi and thus, like Prometheus. Garek was of his grandmother’s generation. Despite his powers however, he had dedicated himself to martial pursuits and had trained Anubis and Apophis in the art of war and when they surpassed him, he set aside his weapons and became a scribe and administrator. Many scorned him, for he easily could have become a system lord and for changing his name, yet he had chosen to serve instead. To Horus, that was always something to aspire too and admire about the hard old devil. Garek’s cape cast a mighty shadow that when joined to his own gave the impression that he was every bit the winged creature of his personal symbol. Automatic doors opened, there were servants but most scurried away or averted their gaze. To the citizens of the empire, the System Lords were gods and even the lesser breeds of Goa’uld worshipped them as such. -Pathetic- Horus thought, why had his father insisted on the Imperial religion again? It helped keep the peace, it helped build a sense of unity and no peer save father ever really called themselves Gods in private (His father had earned the right as far as Horus was concerned.) Nor did Horus really refer to himself as one in public either, within his domains his deeds spoke for themselves and people worshipped him of their own accord.
They entered an antechamber, far from the main apartments and Horus suppressed a shudder. How could he call this place home when his mother had long ceased living here? Only Isis, Osiris and the myriad of their children and grand children and the imperial bastards lived here.
Walking along marble it wasn’t long before Horus espied a woman who appeared to be physically in her late teens to early twenties by human reckoning. She had long, thick black hair with metallic red streaks and a pair of eyes the color of finely polished copper. She wore a corset made of some leather he couldn’t recognize and a skirt of fine silk that extended to her knees. As usual she was drunk and as usual, she was sharing a bottle with Bra’tac who was the only Jaffa to earn the right to be privy to such discussions, even if Horus did believe it was ludicrously above the War Masters’ station.
Bra’tac was a leather worn, copper skinned,
gnarled, wrinkled hard old devil of a Jaffa with long brown hair that had gone an ashy, charcoal like gray. Broad of shoulder and with a long whiskered mustache and hands that still looked like they could crush the skull of an Unas in their grip. Bra’tac, the only Jaffa to defeat Herakles in single combat, the man who defeated two dozen primes and eight of the twelve first primes back-to-back in one of the most amazing sequence of duels Horus had ever witnessed. He'd also killed two hundred of Cronus' rebellious Jaffa as he carved a path of ruin to the mad Titan with not but two teenagers at his back. Brat’ac was adorned in the dark gray and gold of the imperial army, the golden symbol of the serpent upon his head an unpleasant reminder that the mentor of all Jaffa had been a creature of Apophis. -He shouldn’t be here, yet we cannot have this discussion without him-.
“Elder brother!” Isis whispered in a sing song tone. A soft chorus of a dozen different voices some childlike others womanly, some ancient. Rising from the table, swaying slightly she smiled, allowing her eyes to glow a deep white. Brother-in Law Horus wanted to correct, Isis was the daughter of Set, who had been given to Ra when she was still a larval infant. She’d been fostered with Osiris and grew up to eventually marry him and her domains were roughly the same size as her husband’s. Ra, Osiris, Isis and Horus, together the house of Ra ruled some sixteen thousand lightyears and nearly a quarter of a million worlds. Horus personal domains made up the lion’s share of that territory (some nine thousand lightyears), his domains being the largest of all the System Lords, save Apophis whose monstrous fiefdom was nearly the size of the entirety of the house of Ra’s. Together the Houses of Tartarus and Ra controlled just under half the total size of the domains of the system Lords and nearly twenty five percent of the total size of the empire not counting his uncle Yu’s Kingdom.
House of Ra, Horus had to stifle a chuckle at that. He remembered when the house of Ra and the House of Ouranos were one and the same. Before Anubis declared Ra their emperor and divine father made the House of Ra. -Things were simpler then weren’t they? -
“Sister” Horus said nodding his head to her, the bells on his braids jingling. Eyes narrowing as the woman rose and walked towards Garek. She took a dry, old hand in hers and bowed to the ancient Goa’uld. “Old uncle, it is good that you accepted our invitation.”
“Indeed? Bra’tac is already here, if you need a wise voice to tell you this is pure stupidity and disloyal as well, then you’ve him.” Garek rasped in response, his tone as curt as ever and his eyes hard.
“It is only treasonous if we act before Apophis draws first blood.” Horus responded with a sigh, rehashing the argument he’d already had with Garek before they left
Nekhen The Crown world of Horus’s domain.
“I agree!” Isis chimed in as she laced her arms through Garek’s who was walking towards Bra’tac and clasped the man firmly on the forearm with the free hand in greeting. “War Master,
Tek’ma’te!”
Bra’tac nodded his head, honored by the informality and respect of the term while Horus did his best not to roll his eyes at the absurd latitude the Jaffa was given. “Well met, old father” Bra’tac bowed his head. “They fear, not without reason that Apophis will not wait for the Grand Convocation and election ceremony in five years, they fear he will make war first and seize the throne by force.”
“He would be mad to do that!” Garek responded the chorus of his voice sounded like dozens of deep chanters meeting the rasp of a bunch of machinery. His eyes glowed a soft green indicative of his generation and his connection by blood to Amaterasu and her lineage. Even the ancient strategist, the precursor to the First Primes could not conceive of Apophis being so insane as to do what Cronus tried. “The only reason the Titan rebelled was because he believed he could wipe out the House of Ra and Tartarus at the same festival! A conflict between the house of Ra and Apophis would be a disaster for the Empire!”
“We would need the four of us to stand united against him to merely survive, we would have to call on Athena and Zeus to win.” Horus remarked concerned. “Haqet would side against us, that ancient bitch has ever resented the House of Ra because father was made Emperor and not her!”
The fury of that embittered fossil was well known. Haqet had been with the exception of Garek and Prometheus the oldest surviving Peer after the deaths of Tartarus and Ame-No-Manakushi, Ouranos and Nu made her subservient to them and when both were murdered by primitive Goa’uld in the aftermath of the first battle of the rebellion Haqet had tried to assert her authority. Anubis overruled her by bowing to Ra and the rest was history.
The ancient bitch ruled from her castle on Taonas, a grim and reclusive domain spanning some seven hundred lightyears at the “Northern” border of their empire. Tanith; her Chamberlain was always present at the imperial Court no doubt delegating his duties to some lonely second, his smiles as false as Haqet’s youthful host.
“Amaterasu will involve herself, the only being she detests more than Apophis is Haqet and your mother hates the old whore profoundly as well and if sAmaterasu involves herself, then Izanami will join, and Set will be compelled to side with Apophis as his realm would inevitably end up a warzone! And if Set joins him...” Horus clenched his robotic fists, eyes glowing a violent sort of white.
Nearly all the System lords embroiled in a war that would unravel everything they’d worked so hard to build. It would be a disaster and the ultimate vindication of the arrogant Nox and judgmental Asgard. “We are discussing this as though it is foretold” Garak cautioned as one of the doors opened and their fellow confederate entered. A tall pale skinned man with a lanky body and elegantly trimmed hair that was combed to the side. He wore a form fitting tunic with the symbol of the House of Ra and embroidered on the cuffs of his tunic, a falcon like bird flying through a field of stars. The symbol of Osiris, “God” of exploration, movement and politics, who looked every bit as youthful as his wife Isis despite being of another generation entirely. Osiris, his younger brother conceived some eighty thousand years ago during a period of relative peace between the great wars against the alliance.
“Ah, I see you have begun without me hmm?” Osiris spoke in sweet, melodic tones, the compelling voice of the Goa’uld sounding as though it were full of reassuring, confidence, and ease. The charmer, the snake oil salesmen, the liar. Yet the only being in the universe Horus trusted completely. “Is Garek doubting that Apophis will make a play?”
“He is dear husband” Isis chimed.
Bra’tac regarded the couple and nodded. “Garek is correct, he may not make a move until after the election, should he put his name forward at all” Though Bra’tac hoped he would, if not there would be war for a certainty and all the seeming obedience to form and protocol would have been not but a ruse to build up his forces.
“That brings us to another problem, no one expected Father to die, I do not believe he expected himself to die. These protocols were written the year Osiris was born and ratified by System lords of whom, only seven from that time still live. Prometheus himself is one of the signatories, good luck arguing the legitimacy of
that document now.” Isis said folding her hands behind her back in a manner that reminded Horus of father -She may not have been his blood but-.
“Those documents are law!” Garek insisted, flustered by the talk he was hearing. “And even if it weren’t that would mean the position of Supreme System Lord and Emperor would go to your mother.”
Hathor
had been co-ruler, empress before her divorce from Ra and while she became the Imperial Chamberlain and remained the second most powerful figure in the imperial government, it had been a step down. Hathor had lost much of her executive authority, retaining the judicial power while the Court of the System lords acted as the legislative body. An ascent to the position of Empress would mean someone would need to fill her spot, Isis and Osiris both seemed to beam with ambition.
Horus and Bra’tac both promptly threw cold water on their fantasies. Assuring everyone that Hathor would never accept the position of empress unless it was forced upon her. “It would go to you Horus, dear brother” Osiris finally said, speaking that which they all knew but dare not say, not until the votes were tallied.
“I wish it, for my father, to continue his legacy but it is a hard duty and I concur with Garek, those protocols for succession cannot,
must not be broken!” No, Horus thought, I would not have the empire torn apart solely because of who my father was. I am loyal and we worked far too hard for this peace to be so broken.
“And if Apophis should break with the protocols? Osiris asked.
“Then his death shall be as grotesque as that
invalid he calls a son!” Horus boomed and everyone in the room had to suppress a shudder. Klorel was, an uncomfortable reminder of where they came from, a cruel lesson in the dangers of mixing between the breeds and an
abomination against every Goa’uld in existence and a perversion of the blood of the peers. “Vile creature that he is.”
“Amunet is little better” Bra’tac remarked and then clarified when he caught the withering gaze of Horus who was one moment of presumption away from killing the War Master. “With respect, eminent prince” Bra’tac began using the affectation for a scion of the House of Ra. “I spoke with Shaun’ac earlier, it seems Amunet took an unwilling Host, without cloning or lobotomization, without it being a condemned criminal and made sport of..neutralizing her spirit.”
Isis gagged and walked towards one of windows overlooking a hanging garden, her body tense with disgust as Osiris cursed and Horus grew so wrathful, he withdrew his sword and in a loud curse struck it into a column, nearly shattering the stone. “
Barbarian! It’s bad enough she’s a filthy mongrel, but she conducts herself like some lowly
Hassak vermin?
Ja’mah! It’s unseemly!” Horus fumed, while the risks the lower breeds of Goa’uld underwent when taking a fully developed Host weren’t present for the Peers it still didn’t mean it was acceptable to conduct yourself like some, mindless, hunger driven primitive. “Father always regretted the way Odin’s body was taken and the way he took the boy. “Horus grew silent, the memory of his own possession distant and far away but he remembered that it was unpleasant, that he had greedily tore apart the mind of his host the act was…bestial and it shamed him to come so close to conducting himself like his barely sentient ancestors or the disgusting peasants that made up the lower orders...
“Our uncle consorts with beasts, surely someone so..addled is capable of anything” Horus said looking to Garek, who seemed to nod regretfully.
“Which is precisely why I suggest we prepare, but only prepare. We will not strike first and if Apophis waits until the election, then more the better. He will be attainted if he does..Perhaps we can avoid civil war entirely if we build a bulwark and box the old serpent in.”
“Or” Began Garek his eyes dark as concern filled him for even suggesting this. “Or we.” He went silent as Lotar entered to deposit some beverages andfoods resuming only when the group departed. “Or we bribe Apophis by promising a period of expansion, long has he eyed the largest Galaxy in our cluster, what the Ori called
Akromedas I believe he rules several hundred lightyears there already. There are regions of our Galaxy the rest of the Empire could expand into and establishing a bulwark in Pegasi and the Dwarf Galaxies nearby, it would certainly occupy us for the next ten thousand years.” Garek muttered, touching his chin. Yes, the opportunity for growth there would be something even the Asgard couldn’t object to, even if they did rattle their saber about expansion in the milky way.
“That, would require approval of the new Emperor, only Ra ever held the authority to authorize expansion.” Isis said before her eyes glinted in realization. “Ah, yes, I see…So we make dear brother Emperor and Horus agrees to go on a conquering spree and we sate Apophis bloodlust.”
“You assume” Bra’tac remarked, cutting in. “That Apophis merely wishes for a good fight and is not ambitious, or resentful of being in the shadows of others.”
Horus sneered at that. “Apophis never once set his eyes on the throne before. He was content being our dog of war, he’s served in that capacity for a hundred thousand years! Why would he suddenly want more?”
“Why indeed.” Bra’tac asked with a serene smile, perhaps prince, whose father believed him a fool. Perhaps because he has been sitting on resentment for several ages of the universe at this point and wishes to claim what was long denied to him? Bra’tac said nothing because Garek cleared bis throat.
“This is a discussion we cannot have without your mother, where is her majestic eminence, the lady Hathor?” Garak asked, with none of the usual preamble those who claimed to be friends with their mother only using the prefix used when she was empress. The only real sign that Garek was the closest thing Hathor had to a grandfather.
“No one has seen mother, not in a year.” Isis responded; concern evident in her voice. “Her office continues to release edicts and update scripture as though she were still with us, but she departed Dakkara months ago.”
“
What?!” Garek’s voice held a note of worry and Horus looked up positively horrified. “You’re certain?! The lady is missing?”
“She claimed she was going to find answers as to who murdered Father, she left through the Gate alone and we traced the address to a Forest world at the edge of Father’s domain.” Isis responded meekly, somewhat surprised her foster brother's chamberlain hadn’t noticed. “You both have been gone too long my loves.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?!” Horus asked in alarm. “Madness…we’re on the edge of civil war and…”
“We should request an analyses of local subspace from Thoth or one of Ba’al’s technologists, we should determine where mother has gone.” Osiris offered, attempting to defuse the stress. “In the meantime I suggest that we at least begin to fortify our borders and send out word that we will hold a grand banquet in Ra’s honor, issue a summons to all the system lords and request their attendance personally, infer that we will begin the process…”
“That may provoke Apophis” Bra’tac cautioned, earning a nod of agreement from Garek who touched his chin in thought. “And yet, perhaps it is good that we do, provoke. At least we will find out who has the appetite for battle and if we’re correct in assuming the majority would prefer a peaceful transition of power and not a civil war.”
“Amaterasu and Apophis, Set and Ba’al, Haqet and mother at a table together…” Isis murmured with an amused drawl in her tone. “Empire’s have been destroyed by less…volatile personalities.”
“And saved by them as well” Garek said, his eyes shifting towards the gardens. -Anubis, your presence is sorely missed…Everything went wrong when you died, Ra cites Egeria’s death as the point, but it wasn’t the Tau’Ri who marred us was it? It was your death-
No, Garek thought.
It was that you laid your weapon down and bowed to Ra and vowed to avenge his parents and unite the universe under the all-seeing eye of Ra, when it should have been the banner of the
shakal.
Funny, his failure as a teacher was the inverse of Prometheus’ failure, Garek had never nurtured ambition in Anubis and Prometheus over indulged Ra’s.
He laughed aloud and when the others looked at him, the ancient Goa’uld smiled. “Nothing, Nothing”
Except an old man recriminating against himself, lost in nostalgia.