On the planet Aegis, once prosperous under the rule of Queen Helen, whose power emanated from her celestial patron, Pelops, a calm was brewing, presaging a storm. Millennia ago, Pelops, like a gardener sowing seeds, commanded his creations—humans—to prosper and flourish on the alien world now known as Aegis. He bestowed upon them knowledge comparable to the seeds of wisdom, teaching them the art of city building and crafts. But after a millennium, a turning point came. Pelops, like a sudden wind, brought a new people to the planet—the Spartans.
Forged by nature and enhanced by nanites, these children of Pelops, bearing the fire of the chosen in their hearts, sought no peace. Their path was paved with the submission of the conquered. They descended upon the original inhabitants of Aegis, subjugating and enslaving them. Whether this was Pelops's original intention or merely a fortunate coincidence, the result exceeded expectations. He gained an army—warriors with steeled wills and unwavering strength, capable of carrying out his will and bringing order to his domain. Thus, Aegis became the cradle of Pelops's personal warriors, his personal army of Jaffa. In the depths of the planet, beneath the vaults of a grand coliseum, Pelops built secret laboratories where his experiments were conducted. Only the most loyal, like Queen Helena, were permitted to glimpse the fruits of his labors. She, whose knowledge of peoples and gods was boundless, accepted only one messenger of Pelops, his First Warrior, to control her domain.
With the advent of the Spartans, the social fabric of the planet was irreversibly altered, woven into a new pattern, now ruled by a queen bearing the seal of divine blessing. Although the Spartans constituted a tiny fraction of the population, they held everyone else in fear and submission, relying on force of arms and terror. The original inhabitants of Aegis, renamed helots, became slaves, reduced to agricultural and domestic labor, condemned to live in the shadow of their Spartan masters. Every Spartan man was a warrior serving Pelops, every woman a priestess offering prayers to her god. Helen, whose life was marked by the death of her father in the inter-divine wars, inherited not only power but also wisdom, guarding many of her god's secrets.
Denied access to the nanite technology that granted Spartans strength and longevity, the helots lived short, hard-won lives. The slightest disobedience was punished harshly, and any expression of freethinking was brutally suppressed. At night, when fear reigned supreme, their lives were taken by the Kryptia—the secret police, the guardians of order. No laws protected the helots; they were mere property of the state, without the right to vote or appeal.
Spartan society was egalitarian. Men and women ruled together, achieving the highest levels of their chosen professions together. Yet, despite this, their lives were divided: men were warriors, women were politicians, managing most aspects of life. Over centuries spent on Aegis, Pelops honed his soldiers to perfection, making them almost telepathic in their ability to coordinate attacks. The symbiotic pouches Pelops bestowed upon them strengthened their connection to divine power. The Jaffa women, deprived of these pouches due to Pelops's limited supply of symbiotes, nevertheless considered themselves equal to their brothers.
Elena, studying the family archives, realized that the gods' magic was merely a highly advanced technology. And that they, like puppets, were dependent on the Goa'uld, particularly Pelops, who controlled their blood and life. Fear of death, one push of a button—and they would vanish. Men might cherish illusions of honor, but women, ruling worlds, bore the weight of power and the cold breath of death in Pelops's gaze. Alexander, the First Warrior, Elena's longtime matchmaker, possessed even more sophisticated control over nanites. But Elena, having lost her father and concerned about her son's fate, kept him at a distance, in no hurry to start a family. At sixty, as a helot, she would already be a grandmother preparing for death. But, feeling thirty, she could not avoid what was predestined: marriage and the birth of an heiress who would continue her reign.
But one day, on an ordinary day, the usual course of events was disrupted. The guards woke Elena with screams: the arsenals were ablaze, and the Chappai, previously unknown warriors, had slaughtered the guards. She quickly dressed and rushed to the throne room to meet Alexander.
"What's going on?" Elena asked, her voice shaking with anxiety.
"The Chappaai have captured the armories. Their shields are impenetrable, and their helmets are shaped like skulls. They've destroyed a significant portion of our weapons stockpiles."
— Is the enemy advancing?
"No, they've dug in at the gate," the First Warrior replied.
- What? - Elena didn't understand.
"They're digging trenches to hide. And they've brought heavy guns. Some commanders tried to attack, but were killed. They shoot with incredible accuracy."
—Have you contacted Sparta? Our lord?
- Yes, but their chappai blocked the entrance.
— You've fought in many battles. Have you ever seen warriors like these?
- No. Everyone was weaker.
Elena realized: their god, like the criminal helot, feared attracting the attention of powerful predators by attacking the weak. But now someone with sharper teeth had come for her city.
—How long will it take for the Alkeshi, the mighty ships of our lord, to arrive to crush these despicable ones who have defied Pelops?
"A few days at most. But they won't be able to bring many Spartans, just a couple hundred. Considering the enemy can control the gates to Sparta, an attack on us could just be a distraction."
Several hours and a couple of failed assaults later, Elena realized: the unknowns couldn't be driven out. They had transported the gliders and, to the Spartans' shock, assembled them right before their eyes. Now the gliders circled above the city. Pelops had never allocated sufficient resources to Aegis, relying on orbital defense. But the cannons aimed at the planet ruled out any sabotage.
Elena gathered her allies, but her options were limited. Gliders dominated the skies, and the number of defending invaders grew. The number of staffs had dwindled to a few thousand, some of which were lost during the assault on the gate.
The gliders carried out several strikes on the city.
"Contact lost. The relay has been destroyed. We can no longer contact Sparta," said Alexander.
— What are they up to?
In response to her question, a huge image of a man appeared in the sky, and dozens of smaller ones swept across the city. The helots bowed in awe, but Elena merely sighed.
"People of Aegis! I am the god Szarekh, and from now on you belong to me. Your god Pelops has proven weak, your Spartans are insignificant. My power has destroyed all the weapons of your masters. You, Queen Helena, can naively believe that Pelops will send troops to protect you." The man spread his arms, his eyes flashed, and a gigantic flash of light lit up the sky. The shockwave threw Helena to the floor. "I am not cruel. I offer you a choice, Queen Helena and First Warrior Alexander. Kneel and surrender, or burn in flames. The loss of 120,000 slaves would be sad, but I would rather rejoice in the millions under my command. You have one hour. After which, the light will erase you from the face of the planet."
Elena's throat went dry, her knees trembled. She glanced at Alexander, whose face was contorted with the same horror. It began to dawn on her: perhaps Pelops had hurt the wrong person. And this "someone" had come to demonstrate how the other gods operated. She knew from Alexander's stories: the Spartans plundered the weak, those who couldn't fight back, mercilessly killing all the Jaffa, devastating distant planets, stealing naquadah, technology, and gold. They didn't conquer planets for their master, only plundered them. And now they were plundering them.
From the perspective of cruel but inexorable logic, Elena now understood distant Szarekh better than anyone. If all the gods treated humans as Pelops did, then instead of protracted battles, it would have been far quicker to destroy all the defenders in a single blow. Yes, the losses among the helots would have been enormous, but the subsequent fear would have suppressed any disobedience. However, now the Spartans' enemies were eighty thousand helots, who had learned that the Spartans were unarmed. Twenty thousand men, deprived of weapons, would be no match for the enemy before them and the locals, desperate for survival. They would be crushed. The losses would be horrific, but the god Szarekh would have captured the planet without lifting a finger.
"Alexander... Have the gentleman's alkes flown away?" she asked.
"Yes," the warrior answered, still not understanding what was happening.
"They have gliders, they destroyed the communications relay, they have the gate in their hands. It's a trap. A trap for the master's forces. They'll sweep us away, deploy additional gliders, shoot down the alkeshi. And then, perhaps, they'll attack Sparta."
"Then we must gather and attack!" Alexander could sometimes be astonishingly ignorant.
"Alexander, we're already dead," Elena said slowly and evenly. "If you attack, you die. If you wait, you die. The helots fear for their lives and attack. Understand, you no longer frighten them as much as Szarekh does. They'll kill us all, trying to appease the new god. And in an hour, he'll wipe us off the face of the planet. Then reinforcements will arrive, and he'll shoot them down with gliders."
— There must be some way out that will ensure victory.
"Yes, there is one," Elena said quietly. The sound of a Z-shaped weapon being deployed was heard. Alexander, the First Warrior of Pelops, didn't have time to react before the woman tore off the bracelet he used to control his nanites and fired several shots. Until it completely disintegrated, the features of his face, contorted in surprise and pain, would forever haunt Elena.
No one saw it, so she informed the others that Alexander had died in the communications center and that she was taking command, ordering surrender. She would take any punishment from Pelops. Many commanders took the staffs from those who had them and rushed to the attack, where they perished. She barely had time to raise a white flag before a mob of helots began to form, ready to kill every Spartan.
The image of Sareh appeared again.
"You made the right decision. I am a man of my word, you will live. Until I kill Pelops, you will be held in the camp, provided with food and water worthy of warriors. The rules of surrender are as follows: one hundred Jaffa must leave the city every thirty minutes. Weapons must be stored in a wagon, no one is to have weapons. You will be redirected to the planet of your imprisonment. Women and children will also be transferred to the prison, small children will be given everything they need to survive. I am a merciful god and not cruel.
Helen snorted. He'd threatened to kill one hundred and twenty thousand men, and he was persuasive. On the other hand, he could have struck immediately, without issuing an ultimatum. Thirty minutes proved too long, and when the women emerged, everything sped up. But Helen would always remember the hatred with which the helots had seen them off. There was no guarantee that their new masters would be kinder to them, but they rejoiced greatly at the fall of the Spartans. Their gaze was the same as her own when she killed the stubborn Alexander—despair. And this despair could have torn her apart had she not given in so quickly.
She herself remained in the city until the end, ensuring unimpeded passage without casualties. The people left, but she remained on her throne. The helots were about to attack the central buildings, but were repelled by the glider guns, hinting that no uprisings would be tolerated, and that all people should return to their homes and not interfere with the relationship between the god Szarekh and the Spartans.
Darkness had already thickened when she heard heavy footsteps. Seeing armored warriors with skull-shaped helmets, carrying unusual bladed staffs and hexagonal shields, she understood. In the center of the line, Elena removed her helmet and saw that it was the god Szarekh. She knelt.
- My lord, I am Queen Elena, and I humbly ask you for mercy.
"I keep my word," he replied. "You have surrendered, and when Pelops dies, you can swear allegiance to me. Where is Alexander? The First Warrior of your god."
"Unfortunately, he died when you destroyed the signal repeater," she lied.
"You lied," the Jaffa immediately pointed their staves at her, and her heart skipped a beat. "You killed him. Jaffa, Kriy!"
Elena was already preparing for death when she realized that this was an order to put away the weapon.
"Brave and wise enough. You've saved countless lives. I'll confirm your lie to the rest of your brethren, pointing out that I found the Spartan commander's body after excavating the remains of the relay hub and buried him with full honors. My word is not to be doubted."
"But I must swear to serve you," she anticipated the request.
"No. You've betrayed your god. Trusting your word would be foolish, but I'll give you a chance to prove your worth to me on your own. The women of my warriors train alongside the men to defend their homes. If that were the case with you, things would be much more difficult for me. You'll become an ordinary citizen, not a queen, and you'll have to prove your loyalty through your training. And for withholding information, I ask for little—the location of Pelops's laboratories."
"Yes, sir." Her survival was precarious after what she had done, so it was worth taking advantage of the opportunity.
"Lead the way," the troops occupied the city, completely indifferent to the helots. They hid in their houses. She led the god Szarekh to the Colosseum and a vast laboratory complex, accessible with the right code. Rings appeared, and they moved.
"Your openness will be rewarded. My governors will appear today and assume control of the planet. You will hand over all data and management documents. Jaffa women will no longer be used as administrators. You were created for one purpose only—war. Each of you will be given a symbiotic pouch and a symbiont."
Sarykh chuckled.
"Of course, when Pelops falls. We'll see how long he can hold out on his supplies, trying to feed a hundred thousand Spartans on Sparta." A chill ran through Helen. He blocked the entrance tunnels for a hundred thousand Spartans and cut them off from their only source of food—the Aegis. Of course, Sparta had vast food reserves, enough for only a month, unless, of course, the Spartans plowed the land or gathered wild fruits. But the men were too proud to do so. So, when the reserves were depleted, the women would be sent to do it. Sarek was cunning. But there are no fruit-bearing crops near Sparta; all the trees have been cut down and used for the fortress's construction, so they'll have to go further and further. Not to mention that wild fruits aren't as plentiful or nutritious as domesticated ones. Even though Sparta is an entire planet, Szarekh wants to starve it to death because Pelops didn't bring helots there to develop agriculture. There weren't even plows there...
— Yes, sir.
Another squad passed through the rings. They were led by a relatively short warrior, and the protruding armor plate on her chest hinted that she was a woman. She removed her helmet, revealing a young woman of about twenty. She could have been a Jaffa, like Elena herself, but when her eyes sparkled, the queen realized she was one of the goddesses.
"Tesar, we need to look at a lot of data. Pelops was very generous."
"Indeed, such equipment is very rare and expensive," the woman replied in a deep voice. "He invested all the naquad he plundered into his business."
"Excellent," turning to the warriors, Szareh said: "Take Elena back to her chambers and wait for the Faetians, Isaru, she must take over all affairs from her."
The Jaffa turned and led her towards the rings.