SGHP 4: Task From a Titan (Patreon)

**Orbital Habitat - Alpha Centauri, 7480 BC**

Hades watched as the humans completed the final preparations for the Bident test. They had turned a large part of the habitat into a testing facility, opting to assess and improve the more volatile discoveries in a more reinforced area.

To ensure safety, Hades had to add several small shield generators to the lab, which both annoyed and intrigued him. The first time they experimented with containment-field stabilization on the Bidents, they caused a significant hole in the habitat's hull, and Hades wanted to avoid having to reinforce the inner walls with something Bident-proof, so he found the shields to be a more elegant solution.

Additionally, using shields did not require the space that thick Naquadah plating would have.

While the humans had made impressive progress over a few centuries, they were still far from being equals to the Goa’uld in terms of scientific understanding. This gap sometimes led them to propose all kinds of annoying ideas.

For instance, some humans suggested placing heavier components in the forward section to improve balance—a suggestion that was borderline impossible to implement.

When Hades explained the reasons behind this limitation, they began adding small weights to the front section of the shaft to improve balance in their own way.

Another idea involved modifying the weapon to shoot multiple smaller and weaker plasma bolts with a single trigger pull. This presented an enjoyable challenge for Hades.

The existing coils and containment fields were not designed to support such a function, so he had to redesign most of the actual firing mechanism. The result was a ‘Burst Mode’ for the Bident that could be activated near the trigger mechanism.

When activated, the Bident would fire smaller, weaker plasma bolts in a rapid succession, depending on how long the trigger was held. It could handle short bursts of three shots, up to a small barrage of fifteen relatively easily. To prevent the weapon from overloading, Hades incorporated a safety feature that limited the burst to no more than fifteen shots.

Although these bursts were significantly weaker than the single shots, they were still powerful enough to penetrate Jaffa armor. Testing these modes was also the reason for the previously mentioned hole in the hull. The humans were fortunate that the shot did not breach the outer layer of the reinforced Naquadah frame.

For now, Hades was content to let them experiment with infantry weapons. He estimated that within fifty years, they would be knowledgeable enough to start reverse-engineering Goa’uld technology with a real chance of success.

Their progress was faster than he had ever imagined, and Hades did not doubt that they would surprise him again with their creativity; or perhaps their madness. He had learned that humans could be just as insane as the Goa’uld, even if their madness manifested in different ways.

**Hidden Outpost - Antarctica, 7468 BC**

The long-abandoned base was bustling with activity from a small human team as Hades reactivated it. In recent years, Cronus had been calling on Hades more frequently, prompting him to establish a more permanent base on Gaia.

The goal was to spend as little time in his father's presence as possible. It wasn't that Cronus was specifically targeting Hades or any of his subordinates; rather, he seemed to be becoming increasingly unhinged with each passing year. Where his cruelty had once been focused and difficult to provoke, he was now handing out punishments indiscriminately.

Ra's Underlords were at each others throats once again, and Cronus was dissatisfied with the performance of his vessels against their enemies in the preliminary skirmishers. Even though one of his Ha'taks was already stronger than all others—barring Ra himself—Cronus still demanded more power.

Hades sighed, recognizing that there was no pleasing a madman, and his father was clearly slipping into insanity. At least the fighting was mostly kept away from Gaia, thanks to Ra’s fleet, which barely outnumbered the other Goa’uld vessels in the system.

Hades was somewhat grateful that the various Goa’uld were only permitted a single Ha'tak vessel in this system; if they had permission for more, the destruction wrought by their inevitable battles would have been cataclysmic.

Hades had also ensured that his human team became familiar with the Chappa'ai and its functions. It would be a waste if the one he discovered went completely unused, after all.

He still heavily restricted travel through it, but the humans enjoyed scouting out new worlds. It was only his strict rules that kept their overeager nature in check; without them, they likely would have ventured into the throne world of another Goa’uld already.

Hades sighed again, contemplating the possibility that this outpost might need to be expanded after all.

**Throne of Cronus - Mount Orthos, 7468 BC**

Hades blinked once, adjusting to the normal light that flooded in after his journey through Ring Transport. That bright light really needed an adjustment.

He quickly walked through the corridors of his father's Ha'tak vessel, which was parked on a mountain that served as his throne. Cronus had summoned all of his underlings and scientists. For what reason, Hades could only speculate, but it appeared there had been a recent conflict with one of the other powerful Goa'uld.

The throne room was more crowded than usual. Hades noticed many of his fellow scientists. There was Prometheus, a rather subdued individual, who seemed more concerned with convincing people that the budding Jaffa army was a terrible idea than working on improving hyperspace field calculations.

Hades couldn't blame Prometheus for his concern; creating soldiers who were just as dependent on a Goa'uld as the Goa'uld were on them posed a significant security risk. Gods though they may be, the Asgard had already provided ample examples that the Goa'uld were not invincible. Why invite another weakness into their already fracturing empire?

If he was honest, Prometheus and his ever-present brother, Epymetheus, were the only scientists under Cronus that Hades could work with instead of merely tolerate. They might not be as perfect as he believed himself to be, but at least they could remain quiet while he presented his ideas. And where most Goa’uld barked insults, those two occasionally had valuable input.

On the other hand, there was Hyperion, a decent weapons designer, but all his solutions seemed to involve making things bigger. That madman once illuminated the night sky over the netire Cronus’ domain here on Gaia when one of his experiments exploded. The dunderhead was trying to experiment with hard light, without any safety measures in place. The proposed Photon Cannon had been promptly abandoned after that single failure.

Unfortunately, this level of incompetence and lack of commitment was quite common among Goa'uld scientists, and Hyperion was nowhere near the worst in this regard.

“Oh, look who finally showed up. Crawled out of your lab, Hades?” The voice was unfamiliar, but the tone was easily recognizable—a mix of superiority and teasing.

“You’re here too?” Hades grumbled. “I figured Father would keep you far away from this mess, Aphrodite.” He sighed and turned to face the chattiest Goa'uld he’d ever met.

Aphrodite currently resided in a striking human woman with long auburn hair styled to perfection, as always. She wore the finest clothes, making sure to show off her host’s light-brown skin.

“Another new host? It's not even been two decades…” Hades commented. This must have been a recent development; he had seen Aphrodite just a few years ago, and she had been in a blonde woman back then.

“A true goddess takes only the most beautiful hosts, Hades. You should try it too. Maybe then you might actually be revered like the rest of us are,” she said, smiling condescendingly. “I got this one from Marduk’s domain. Can you believe they call me Ishtar and worship me there too? Clearly, beauty pays off.” She giggled; yes, giggled.

Hades could only groan. At least she wasn’t relying on the Sarcophagus all the time anymore. No matter how many times he raised that issue, he was ignored by his peers, but it seemed that at least Aphrodite took him a little seriously.

“So, Father called his best diplomat for this... just what kind of mess is it this time?” he questioned, mumbling to himself.

“I don’t know. But from what I’ve heard, Marduk is mobilizing his forces, and so are Sokar and Apophis,” Aphrodite answered, unusually serious for once.

“Then they are definitely not alone. Yu will be ready to defend himself, and others will follow,” Hades theorized.

Just then, Cronus finally rose from his throne, flanked by his most trusted underlings—Iepitus, Coeus, and Oceanus, the three most powerful Lords serving Cronus.

Rhea, the singular Goa'uld queen under Cronus’ command and his mate, was also present. She sat on a throne almost as opulent as Cronus's own.

“We have finally gathered,” Cronus announced, his eyes scanning the assembled Goa'uld. “The last time I needed all of you was when the Tau'ri were discovered, but this time, the news is not as positive.” He settled back into his golden throne. “As independent lords grow in power, stability decreases; there have already been many squabbles,” he declared to the congregation. So far, nothing Hades hadn’t already anticipated.

“To weed out the weak, System Lord Ra himself is implementing a new hierarchy among rulers. As the newly crowned Supreme System Lord, he will preside over the council of System Lords, consisting of ten of his greatest,” Cronus explained.

Hades already foresaw the problem: a war would inevitably arise to determine the ten strongest, and Cronus would need to ensure the loyalty of his subjects.

“Solving small squabbles among the weaker lords by creating a system that pits the strongest against each other... I don’t know whether it’s genius or insanity,” Aphrodite remarked, a large frown marring her features.

“It is plainly insane. A power play to secure his place before any other lords try to take Ra’s spot,” Hades concluded. It seemed that he would be staying here on Gaia for some time. There is no way Cronus would allow his most reliable scientist to vanish for years on end any time soon.

“In this new system, I am no longer a mere Underlord. I, Cronus, am the mightiest of the System Lords, and with your support, I shall remain so for eons to come!” he declared, as the main underling lords bent their knees before his throne.

“Therefore, I proclaim you, Oceanus, Iapetus, and Coeus, as my first Underlords. If you serve me loyally, you may one day stand beside me as fully fledged System Lords.” This proclamation came as no surprise. Their roles and overall prestige would change very little, if at all, but giving a warlord an empty title is enough to placate them for a time, especially when framed as a reward, as Cronus had done.

Hades doubted that Cronus would ever grant them the real autonomy needed to be recognized as true System Lords, but the tactic seemed to work on those three empty-headed warmongers.

“As for the scientists,” Cronus said, looking directly at Hades, easily spotting the only reptilian in the crowd, “I will need our weapons and vessels in top shape, along with major upgrades to be developed.” He fixed his gaze on Hades. “Hades will head the research initiative. I expect results by the end of the season.” His command forced Hades to suppress a derisive comment. He would much rather work with any of his human experiments than share a lab with Hyperion, let alone the rest of the team.

He hoped to keep the idiot off his back by appointing either Prometheus or Epymetheus to supervise him. Then Hades glanced to his side and saw Aphrodite, who looked as though she had just sucked on a particularly sour lemon.

Ah, of course! If scientists were forced to work together, so would spies and diplomats. She would have to deal with Phoebe and Mnemosyne; her fate might be even worse than his.

“My condolences…” Hades said with a smirk, enjoying the sight of her flustered expression for once. “Ever considered switching careers? It’s not too late to start working as an engineer.” He teased, knowing full well that she despised any kind of manual labor.

“Yeah, laugh it up, Hades. Have fun putting out the fires Hyperion starts… and wrangling Crius to do anything,” she shot back before turning on her heel and walking away, still angry about the situation.

She had a point, though. Hades would have to find Crius before he slipped away to study the Chappa’ai again. Why Crius bothered reading the same manuscripts over and over again was beyond Hades’ comprehension. It wasn’t as though he even had a functioning one on hand to study; yet he was always holed up somewhere, poring over the little the Goa’uld knew about the device.

At least he was usually quiet, unlike Hyperion.

**The main Lab - Beneath Mount Orthos, 7468 BC**

The lab dug underneath the mountain was vast, almost as large as Ptah’s own, and it was filled with disassembled weapons and generators for Ha’tak vessels. Hades could easily make the upgrades himself, improving the plasma concentration of the Staff Cannons by ten percent and calling it a day, but that would likely attract unwanted attention.

If there was one thing he wanted to avoid, it was his father’s gaze. If Hades were honest, he would have told Cronus to shove it and do the work himself, but he wasn't suicidal enough to seriously consider that.

He sighed as he glanced at Crius, the lazy cur. He had to physically drag him to the lab and assign Prometheus to ensure that he didn’t slack off. Those two would be in charge of developing better subspace calculations to streamline the hyperdrives.

Hyperion, under the watchful eye of Epymetheus, would handle the Staff Cannons, while Hades would tackle the massive Naquadah generators. This marked his first opportunity to work directly with the Ha’tak’s heart, and he quickly identified a problem.

The design was simply inefficient. Too inefficient to be Ptah’s work. Or was the inefficiency intentional? Perhaps the basic inefficient variant was distributed to others while Ra enjoyed a revised design.

That seemed plausible to Hades. The generator was massive, much larger than necessary for the power output it provided. He felt that this type of generator did not scale well with size, and his preliminary calculations confirmed his hunch.

Increase the size and fuel by a hundred percent, and you might get, at best, a fifty percent improvement in power. This flaw seemed deliberate on so many levels that Hades was convinced it was intentional. Who even designed the original version of these generators?

This realization was a blow to Hades’ pride. He had always considered the Goa’uld methods of power generation advanced, but he now believed that even his humans could devise something more efficient, maybe not more powerful, but certainly more efficient.

The question was what to do with this newfound information. Should he inform Cronus and attempt to design a new reactor from scratch? Or should he do what he always did: upgrade it enough to placate his father and satisfy the warlords without doing anything groundbreaking?

**Ptah’s Laboratory - Giza Plateau, 7468 BC**

A few weeks into the project, Hades realized he needed answers, and he needed them urgently. There was only one Goa’uld old and knowledgeable enough to provide him with the information he sought.

Hades walked briskly through the massive workshops, following one of the resident Jaffa.

The Jaffa proliferated rapidly, leading him to wonder if the System Lords had created some kind of breeding program. Regardless, there were many Jaffa guarding the pieces of technology that Ra clearly wanted to keep solely for himself, the Staff Weapons at the ready. It was no surprise that the System Lords were sharpening their knives; their new toy soldiers were numerous enough to finally try them out in a proper military campaign.

Before long, Hades spotted another reptilian among humans, standing near a large workbench. It seemed that, like Hades, Ptah was still not persuaded to switch hosts, even after few more centuries.

“Lord Ptah. Lord Hades is here to see you,” the Jaffa announced, bowing to the ancient Goa’uld.

Ptah turned to Hades, a glint forming in his eyes. “Came to see me after such a long time?” he asked, curious.

“I have a question about Ha’tak generator design,” Hades replied bluntly, getting straight to the point.

Ptah paused for a moment before a semblance of a smile appeared on the reptilian face of his host.

“In almost three millennia, no Goa’uld has ever asked me about it. Walk with me.” He started walking, motioning for Hades to follow.

“Who designed it? It is too… inefficient for it to be your design,” Hades inquired directly once they were away from prying ears.

“It was acquired from one of the civilizations we have conquered,” Ptah replied easily, as if wiping out an entire civilization were a normal occurrence. “I dare not tamper with that technology, for I would rather our brethren handle it themselves,” Ptah stated after a pause, looking directly at Hades.

“So you intentionally kept an inefficient design and built our premier vessel around it?” Hades was exasperated, yet slowly, he began to think deeper. “You kept it from everyone… even Ra,” he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“For the good of our race, I did,” Ptah responded, unbothered. “Tell me, Hades. What technology is uniquely Goa’uld?” he asked, knowing Hades would struggle to find an answer beyond Ptah’s own designs.

“You're trying to force us to innovate on our own, aren’t you?” Hades surmised. The look in Ptah’s eyes confirmed his suspicion.

“Our species cannot remain parasitic forever. Eventually, someone with real understanding will wipe us out,” Ptah shared his theory—or rather, his fear.

“And the Asgard have already proven that we can be defeated…” Hades added, trailing off.

A long pause filled the room before he continued, “Cronus wants upgrades. Generators for his vessels, among other things.” Hades revealed, “And I fear that if I design better generators for him, I will simply become another you—that nothing will change.” He was deep in thought.

“One more pioneer means nothing if the rest of our fellow gods remain complacent.” He finally voiced the concern that troubled him most. His and Ptah’s theories aligned on this issue.

The Goa’uld needed to continuously innovate if they wanted to win against the Asgard next time, if they wanted to survive.

“Gods? I see no gods among us. You should curb your hubris, young one. It is that casual arrogance that holds many of our peers back,” Ptah said, shaking his head as he said likely the most heretical sentence he has ever heard.