SGHP 3: Discoveries and Dilemmas (Patreon)

*Orbital Habitat - Proxima Centauri, 7504 BC*

Hades was quite pleased with his impromptu speech. It had ignited a fire under the humans, at the very least. He realized he wouldn’t need to worry about them attempting to rebel against him, provided he treated them fairly.

Perhaps his kind's approach to ruling was flawed? Or maybe the humans were still too primitive to understand the divine power of the Goa'uld. Regardless, it wasn't particularly important at the moment. However, as more and more people ventured into the Underworld, keeping the operation secret was becoming increasingly difficult.

The most exceptional individuals were invited to the Habitat to attend the Lyceum properly, but there were seven thousand, if not more, humans who repeatedly visited his facilities on Tau’ri. He still couldn’t even reveal his name due to fear of repercussions. He had no idea how his brethren would react to his educational experiments, and Hades preferred to be safe rather than sorry.

There was a pressing need for weapons and vessels, but there was nowhere near enough material to begin constructing a Ha'tak, let alone the required manpower. The construction drones could easily handle hull construction, but Hades believed a personal touch was necessary when it came to the systems and interiors of the ships

Unless the humans could construct a simple scoutship, there was no point in asking them to build an actual vessel of war. Hades himself held no desire for conquest or war against other Goa'uld—not yet, at least. However, he recognized the necessity of being able to defend his experiment and himself if the situation called for it. The humans would need to advance rapidly over the next few centuries if they were to be useful.

Alternatively, he could invest more research into automated construction, but that would take much of Hades' time, which he'd rather spend on designing lessons for his humans. He would work on automated construction research in his free time, but it wouldn’t be his first priority.

———

Not long after Hades held his first official lecture, something strange occurred. One of his Underworld facilities was experiencing unusual behavior; more specifically, one of the consoles was acting oddly.

It was reported to him by his young students. Apparently, unfamiliar writing had been uploaded into one of the consoles. The only reason they even thought to report it was that it wasn’t distributed to everyone, like it would be if it were a test.

Hades accessed the console from his study inside the Habitat, only to pause and stare. He recognized that script immediately, even though he couldn’t read it.

“Ancient...” he mumbled, completely taken aback. Whatever this meant, it couldn’t be good.

The Ancients were akin to gods, much like the Goa’uld, and Hades didn’t like his chances of facing them if they were displeased. The worst part was that he had no idea what the Ancient, or Ancients, had written for him.

Was it a test, a warning, or perhaps a note of encouragement? The more optimistic thought was quickly squashed. There was a short note in a script he could read just fine. It was in the language he had developed for his humans but appeared more refined, more developed than it currently was.

Even some of the words were unfamiliar to him, forcing him to deduce their meanings through context.

My interference may not be advisable, but I have seen much of the potential wasted. Learn alongside your students. I recommend an actual engineering course; the mathematics you teach is rudimentary at best.

The note was brief and rather cryptic, leaving Hades uncertain about how to interpret it. The only other element of the legible note was a single name, most likely a signature.

“Janus... And here I had hoped to meet one of his kind face to face.” Hades sighed and opened a communication link to one of the humans he had begun to trust marginally more than the others.

“I have sent you coordinates. Bring the right-most console from the marked facility to the Habitat.” It was not a request. Hades couldn’t risk going there himself. This Janus might not know that Hades was a Goa'uld, and Hades, in his paranoia, preferred not to risk revealing himself in case this Ancient held ill will toward his kind.

Thankfully for Hades' growing unease, the human explorer was more than happy to assist his god.

Upon personal inspection, the entire terminal was filled with Ancient language. What it meant, or what this Janus person wanted, was completely beyond Hades. Not to mention that some of his mathematical equations were being corrected, as if he were a child.

The worst part was that the Ancient was right; his equations could indeed be streamlined. The realization made Hades feel both annoyed and determined. Ancient he may be, but next time, this Janus would recognize Hades' greatness.

*Al'kesh Vessel - Unknown System, 7500 BC*

When Hades received a call from one of his human followers requesting assistance, he was skeptical.

The trip would take a few days away from his precious study of the Ancient language, and the progress had been slow already. Hades wasn't a linguist, but he had managed to make some headway in decoding the ever-elusive language.

He was summoned to the Galactic South, nearly halfway to the galaxy's edge from Tau'ri. The readings from his heavily modified Al'kesh were staggering, to say the least. It's no wonder the humans needed a god to come here.

As he entered the atmosphere close to the coordinates of the human's Tel'tak, he came to a stop before something that, by all accounts, should not be possible.

The entire surface of the planet was covered in thick forests; some trees resembled the evergreens of northern Tau'ri, while others boasted lush foliage. Yet, they were all connected by a single root system leading to one, truly massive tree.

The readings were nearly nonsensical.

The crown of the tree must have reached almost seven kilometers into the air, and the trunk was thick enough to be mistaken for a mountain. This entire planet hosted only a single large organism: the tree itself.

Fungus-like organisms ran through the entire system, repurposed from parasites into an efficient nutrient transfer network. It almost appeared as if the tree could instantly communicate with every part of itself through that fungal growth.

The wood was obsidian-black, and scans confirmed its incredible durability. Hades leaned back in the pilot's chair and opened a communication line with the Tel'tak.

"Explorer Five, vessel designation Argo, can you hear me?" he asked, his usual confidence wavering for a moment. He had no idea how to approach an organism like this, but it certainly warranted dedicated study.

"We can hear you, my Lord," the crew of two humans responded immediately. "The organism is fascinating. It seems to have incorporated various organisms into itself. There are even parts that filter-feed in the ocean, bringing nutrients back to the main structure," said the excited voice of the captain.

Hades paused for a moment. Did this 'tree' invent its own means of agriculture? Letting small plankton-like creatures live to sustain itself? This wasn't random behavior; it felt deliberate, at least. Either evolution endowed this organism with instincts beyond anything Hades had ever encountered, or the organism itself was intelligent in some way.

"You were right to call me..." Hades trailed off. "Identify among your fellow Lyceum students those skilled in the study of plants and animals," he ordered, ready to ensure a thorough examination of this planet and its mysterious organism.

"This system deserves proper research." He contemplated as he made his decision. "I will allow you to use the construction drones to establish a station in this system; no word of this shall reach anyone not directly involved." The decision was made.

"My lord? Wouldn't it be better to share—" the woman on board began, but was quickly interrupted. "Medea! ...We have our lord's orders," the man interjected, likely chiding her.

"I feel rather magnanimous today... so I shall answer," Hades said, slightly annoyed at being questioned. "Should other gods learn of this place, they might very well burn it to the ground fighting over it." He continued with a frown.

"We may be gods, but we are still subject to mortal vices such as greed." He sighed, knowing it was an understatement of the millennium.

Even Hades was aware that the Goa'uld were even more susceptible to such vices. His own vice was pride, and although he recognized it, it was still challenging to separate his own will from the embedded genetic memory. The Goa'uld were programmed from birth to be prideful and greedy, a flaw of their ancestors that Hades was burdened by much more than he’d prefer.

"None but myself and those who will permanently relocate to this system shall know... at least for some time," Hades reiterated his prior words, leaving no room for argument. He was the god here, and his word would be obeyed.

"Yes, my lord. We will take care of it personally," the man's voice responded. "Please, send over the drones and materials so we can begin construction."

"You shall have them... Iason, was it?" Hades asked, surprising the humans. He may not ever admit it, but he had committed the names of the exploration crews to memory.

*Orbital Habitat - Alpha Centauri, 7500 BC*

Hades returned home in a good mood. A new planet awaited his human subjects for survey and exploration. He knew he would need to expand the botanical section of the lesson plan, but he was in no rush. Whether the study took a century or a millennium didn't concern him much.

The organism was complex enough that it would take multiple Goa'uld lifetimes to complete, but the Unas body he was currently inhabiting could sustain him for at least another two thousand years without issue. He might need to consider the Sarcophagus technology before it was too late, though.

That thought made him pause. The Goa'uld had already discovered that humans could not sustain them for as long as their previous host species. Although humans were relatively easy to subdue and visually much more appealing, maintaining that youthful beauty; or even a specific appearance would require a visit to the Sarcophagus every few decades.

In contrast, with their previous hosts, the Goa'uld only needed such visits once every millennium to retain youthful looks.

The Sarcophagus technology was poorly understood, even by Goa'uld engineers, and that fact didn’t sit well with Hades. Relying on technology he didn't fully comprehend troubled him. Thankfully, time was on his side.

He returned to studying the Ancient language. So far, he had managed to recognize some phrases, but he was far from finished, even assigning sounds to the letters was more or less impossible.

One phrase he translated was ‘Ex uno omnes discunt,’ which he understood to mean ‘All learn from one.’ Was that a common Ancient proverb? The context was sorely lacking to be sure.

Another phrase referred to what he interpreted as ‘a key to infinite treasure’ — ‘Clavis ad thesaurum infinitum.’ Additionally, a word associated with this phrase that Hades deciphered was ‘Disce,’ which, if he was correct, meant ‘to learn.’

“To learn is the key to infinite treasure…” he sighed heavily, putting down his portable console. He had expected profound technology, not a philosophical lesson from an ancient.

Yet, this was the first time in Goa'uld history that an Ancient had communicated with them. What did he actually know about them? He recognized they were powerful—perhaps just as divine as the Goa'uld themselves. But from the little text he deciphered, it seemed they did not act like gods.

Was it possible that they were... mortal? How could such a powerful, knowledgeable being not be divine? Just the thought of being lectured by a mortal made Hades irrationally angry; his Goa'uld instincts to dominate and lead openly revolting against his curiosity.

“Being lectured like a mere child… Unfitting for a god,” he scoffed.

And yet, he always returned to the terminal, always translated a short passage, and always ended up frustrated. The cycle continued, and he wasn’t even sure if there was a way out at this point.

The potential for knowledge was far too great for him to discard simply because Janus was being an annoying smartass. But the biggest issue was that Hades could not find a flaw in the reasoning.

The Goa'uld only became gods through superior technology and understanding of the universe. Perhaps a member of the most advanced race to ever exist knew something Hades did not.

*Orbital Habitat - Alpha Centauri, 7480 BC*

To say that Hades was pissed would be an understatement. His fists were clenched, and one of his personal portable consoles lay broken at his feet. One of the Underworld Facilities was found; people inside were massacred. He had lost four of his prized students who came down to Tau'ri to teach.

It seemed someone was aware of him— or at least his experiments. He was fortunate that the humans sacrificed their lives to wipe the archives; otherwise, his other hidden facilities might have been compromised.

This situation could not stand. He had no idea whose Jaffa had come to the facility or if they had been following any orders. It was just as likely that the Jaffa had seen the humans vanish for some time and went looking for them.

Meanwhile, the Orbital Habitat was expanding under Hades' orders. A thick ring had been added to the circular frame to accommodate more people. The original habitat could hold about a thousand individuals, but with the proper lodgings now completed, it could comfortably accommodate over five thousand, and nearly nine thousand at maximum capacity.

It was clear that he would need armed forces. However, despite fulfilling minor upgrades for Cronus’ ships and weapons, he was never allowed to take any Jaffa with him.

Hades attempted to give the Ma'tok staffs to his humans, but without the enhanced strength of the Jaffa, they struggled to wield them effectively. The staffs were unwieldy and somewhat heavy, even for Hades’ liking.

For the time being, he limited visitation permits to Gaia, as the humans called Tau'ri, and immersed himself in an engineering project.

Over the next few months, he locked himself in his personal workshop, determined to create something that could help defend his humans. No god would hold dominion over his subjects but himself, and no other god would encroach upon the Underworld without his permission.

He decided to upgrade the original Ma'tok Staff design he had helped create centuries ago. Acquiring a handful of the revised versions made by Ptah was easy, as they were seen as mere infantry weapons that Cronus believed posed no significant threat.

Hades was determined to prove his father wrong in the best way possible. What he was designing would not be for any of Ra's Underlords or any other Goa’uld, but solely for him and his humans. The very idea felt surreal to even think about, and absolutely heretical to act upon, but the safety of his experiment was paramount.

He spent six days focused on the emitter of the weapon, dismantling the coils to improve their focus, reduce weight, and enhance balance without sacrificing too much power.

The main challenge was the overall power of the Staff Weapon. It could serve as a standard anti-personnel weapon or blast holes in solid rock, functioning as an explosive tool for demolition or tool to would multiple primitives charging at the Jaffa with spears. The amount of power was overkill for Hades’ needs.

Jaffa could hold the trigger to charge the weapon for more explosive power, but larger coils and emitters were needed for such powerful blasts—something he had overlooked in the original design.

The Ma'tok attempted to fulfill three distinct roles: a long-range weapon, a melee weapon, and an explosive crowd-control tool. Hades now believed this approach was flawed, hindsight was the most powerful tool.

Despite the setback, he found the task of starting from scratch less daunting than expected. In fact, it was exciting to improve upon past failures. Ultimately, he settled on a new design.

The general concept remained similar: a staff that fired plasma, but there were significant differences. The new weapon was noticeably shorter—around 170 centimeters long, compared to the 2-meter Ma'tok.

Rather than having a serpent's head covering the emitter, this design integrated the emitter into the staff itself, providing better protection against the elements when firing. With fewer moving parts, the risk of failure was minimized as well. Two long prongs flanked the emitter and created a stabilizing field for the outgoing shot.

He named the weapon the 'Bident,' as the humans aptly suggested.

During limited testing, Hades discovered that the Bident could easily pierce not only Jaffa armor with ease, but it went through even Death Glider armor, something the Ma'tok had struggled to do.

While the design still drew heavy inspiration from the Ma'tok Staff, it was clearly tailored for anti-infantry purposes with armor-piercing capabilities, unlike the Ma’tok, it had a dedicated purpose.

The humans adapted well to the new weapon, finding it easier to aim after some minor adjustments to weight distribution. Hades was confident that his humans would eventually design their own weapons or improve upon this one to better suit their needs.

Instead of feeling his usual indignation or irrational anger, he experienced a surprising sense of... pride? Feeling pride in someone else but himself was a rather unusual thought he had never experienced, even through the genetic memory.

Why did it make him feel so light, happy even?

Maybe that annoying ancient was right. The humans were not correcting him to spite their god. They were advancing theirs and Hades' own understanding through science.