Cleaning Up After The Ancients - Chapter 153

Chapter 153 - Aftermaths

The bevy of staff weapons and zat'nik'tel's that had been raised by the guards and certain members of the high council stayed pointed at him. A precaution Eventus couldn't really fault them for given they'd just watched a brief but intense battle between what was effectively two super powered combatants

“Are you well, Eventus?” Bra'tac inquired in concern, his words seemingly enough for the high councilors who had drawn them to stow their pistol-like weapons back under their robes.

“A bit disappointed.” He admitted, securing his own gun back in its holster now that the threat in the room was dead. “Why?”

“Perhaps you should look behind you.” Teal'c offered helpfully.

Following the Jaffa's advice, Eventus glanced over his shoulder only for his eyebrows to practically reach his hairline at sight of the dripping molten outline in the stone wall behind him.

“Okay,” He began as he turned back. “I'll admit that's moderately impressive from a purely directed energy standpoint, but my personal shield is able to handle that level of energy just fine.”

It was not, but since there wasn't anyone around who could challenge his claim he didn't mind lying to make his survival look more effortless then it actually was.

Pointing at the wall on the opposite side of the room whose stone now had a clean hole drilled all the way through it and into the next room, he grinned. “And as the people of Earth like to say, it’s not the size of a thing that matters, but how well you use it.”

Gerak stood, glancing at the small hole for a moment before motioning to the guards to lower their weapons. “I suppose we can consider this evidence that Origin's claims towards the Ori's divinity may have been slightly exaggerated.”

“Try completely made up.” Eventus corrected in annoyance. “The book of Origin's big promise of ascension after death for those who follow the path of the Ori is just straight up impossible.”

Gerak narrowed his eyes. “And the Ancients knew this for certain?”

“We did.” Eventus nodded firmly. “Ascension is the coming together of the body, mind, and soul into something greater than the sum of its parts. Once the body dies and the mind fades however, the soul moves on to the unknown inbetween before eventually returning to be reborn anew.”

“So it seems even the Ancients hold faith in something.” Gerak put forward in an oddly smug tone that left Eventus with the distinct sense that the Jaffa was digging for something specific in the Lantean’s words.

“It's not faith.” He insisted firmly. “It's the result of a multi-million year long study recording and tracking soul patterns. So we know for a fact that souls eventually end up reborn in new bodies. And can even on occasion recall vague details of their past lives.”

Or be technologically assisted in recalling more, though he knew those particular studies had been forcefully terminated after the volunteers had begun to suffer schizophrenia-like symptoms.

“All that aside, there's actually a very easy way to tell if someone dying actually ascended. Because they'll leave a pile of empty clothes where their body used to be.”

“Indeed.” Teal'c spoke up. “That was what we saw when both Daniel Jackson and those on Abydos were helped to ascend by Oma Desala.”

“That on the other hand,” Eventus pointed at the scorch mark that was the only thing left of the Prior. “Was a showy self destruct built into his staff and or genetics by the Ori. Likely with the intent of tricking people into thinking they actually ascend their most powerful followers when they die.”

It wasn’t a bad bit of showmanship so far as things went, but his people could, and some unfortunately had, done it better.

“I believe it’s clear,” Bra’tac began as he rose to his feet and turned a somewhat judging stare on Gerak. “That shackling ourselves to Origin as these Ori seem to wish would be no more than trading our old masters for new.”

“New masters who would probably kill off your people by the time everything was said and done.” Eventus added in.

Gerak scowled. “Explain.”

“You’re Jaffa.” Eventus spelled out for him. “There are only four ways you can survive long term. A constant supply of new Goa’uld symbionts, which the Ori would never allow. Production of Tretonin, which requires an industrial base that the Ori are not likely to let you keep. Genetically repairing your peoples immune system, which the Ori will almost surely claim some reason not to do. And turning your people back into regular humans.”

“We would never accept that.” Rak’nor snapped.

Eventus gave a nod of understanding. “I considered it extremely unlikely that you would, hence why I said the Ori would probably end up killing off your people.”

They would probably pretend to accept the Jaffa’s desire at first, then a few years later infect them with a plague or something like it that could only be cured by turning them back into regular humans. After all, leaving a group of obvious superhumans around wouldn’t play into the general narrative they were trying to sell.

“And what would your people do to help us solve that problem?” Ishta asked.

“Not interfere with your current methods of handling it for a start.” Eventus returned dryly, accepting the woman’s unamused glare for several seconds before continuing. “Which is a much larger ask then it likely seems on the surface given I expect several of you have captured Goa’uld queens being forced to produce larval Goa’uld for implantation in those who don’t wish to chain themselves to daily drug injections.”

The way many of the assorted Jaffa refused to meet his eyes was telling enough that he didn’t feel the need to press more on the subject.

“In regards to the idea of solving your immune system issue without turning you back into regular humans. While I can’t answer that question with absolute certainty until analyzing the general Jaffa genome. It’s highly likely that yes, my people could do that given a couple years to work on the problem.”

“Then that will be the Hak’tyl’s price.” Ishta said, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair as if to say the matter was settled.

“We should not discuss such in front of others.” Gerak growled down at the woman.

Ishta rolled her eyes, clearly done with the man’s posturing. “Yes, we must first all spend the next twenty hours talking in circles amongst ourselves.” She pointed a finger at Eventus. “The Ancient obviously wishes our people’s assistance in driving away these Ori. And now he knows what my people’s price for that assistance will be.”

“I’d have honestly been happy with you just not joining the Ori’s side till they inevitably turned on you.” Eventus put forward, moderately bemused at the sheer bluntness on display. “But yes, I am willing to negotiate for more proactive assistance against them on your part.”

As if those words were a cue, several different arguments openly broke out amongst the council members as Ishta shot the quietly fuming Gerak a smug look.

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Author’s Notes: There’s good reason Ishta’s not the usual representative for the Hak’tyl, her bluntness tends to work against coming to a political compromise.