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 Family Feud

He strode through the corridors of his palace, his long legs making quick work of the passageways. In his throne room waited the visitors who had so cautiously accepted his invitation.

Yamm paused for a moment, checking his reflection in a large mirror. Adjusted the cuff of the silk shirt he wore beneath his cape. He locked eyes with his reflection. What he intended to tell them – those who waited for him, and probably impatiently – would change everything. Their lives would change drastically if they agreed to his proposal. After so long...to finally be a powerful System Lord again...

His mind pulled up the memories of the past centuries. He, and the Goa’uld with which he’d found himself trapped, were among a handful of the oldest who had survived the transition from their home planet to the First World, and the building of the Empire. Regardless of their rank as the oldest, they’d been relegated to minor status – the result of their own actions...and failures over the centuries. Several System Lords in the Goa’uld Empire had been at a loss as to why Ra permitted the five to live as comfortably as they had, rather than destroying those who had tried to rebel against him in the early days of the Empire.

Perhaps it was largesse. Or mercy. Yamm snorted quietly, a rare moment of brutal honestly racing through him. Neither of those qualities had ever been present in any adequate supply in Goa’uld…particularly Ra. What those who had questioned Ra didn’t realize was that allowing them to live, to serve as such minor Goa’uld, was more of a punishment than banishment. Those who had once been powerful gods – their names striking terror among the simple humans forced to serve them – were only allowed to live…exist…as nothing more than minor ‘minions’ for the younger, more powerful gods. The younger gods who had prevailed in that earlier war. Yamm had often wondered if their ‘punishment’ was simply because not even Ra could destroy those older than himself, regardless of the power he wielded.

The most likely reason – one which Yamm had decided long ago was the truth – Ra was merely using them as examples of what he would do to those who dared rise against him or those who held his favor. He’d stripped them of whatever power they’d wielded...erased their names from every record he deemed important. Denied them the trappings of their ‘god-hood’. Whatever Ra’s motivation had been, he’d left them alive. And alive they would remain, if left to their own devices.

This group of five became the lowliest Goa’uld in the Empire; demeaned in the eyes of System Lords – even among the minor Goa’uld who served those in control. They tended to Ra in the plebian tasks that Tau’ri were considered too ignorant to perform. Interestingly, it was their positions as such minor Goa’uld that offered each of them the opportunity to search through Ra’s computers. Hiding their actions behind the day to day tasks they’d been assigned, each searched out a place to go, to escape. For the fear of dying at Ra’s hand was a real and deep fear. Ra was a cruel Goa’uld, and took delight in torturing his enemies.

If he had but known that he hadn’t been the only one to steal information from Ra’s computers, had he had any inkling that others had found the same details he had, he would have searched again. There had been little about the galaxies that existed beyond the stars that had seen the birth and rise of the Goa’uld Empire. Except for one system. It was barely mentioned in the star maps the Supreme System Lord had created. Just a location and the fact that three planets were inhabitable; no other details about the galaxy or the solar system itself had been recorded. That lack of information didn’t stop his dreams of escape; didn’t stop him from fleeing Ra’s control in a bid to survive…with hopes of one day returning strong enough to exact retribution for his humiliation.

He hadn’t known that the others had found the same star charts and noted the far galaxy. There had been no way to know that the others were scheming and planning, just as he had been. One small star system. Only three habitable planets. It had seemed to be the perfect place to go. If only he had known.

Still staring at his reflection, he recalled the day he had arrived. Within hours, his scanners were alerting him to the arrival of other ships. Four in total. All as old and worn and barely armed as his own. There had been a moment of shock...admitting, if only for a moment...that his convictions of his superiority faltered slightly. He had immediately demanded that the others bow in submission to him. They had lashed out with as much fury as he had been feeling.

The trip had not been easy...not for any of them. They had a few slaves. No Jaffa. No technicians. No healers. It had taken them months to arrive at their destination. That they had arrived within hours of one another was simply the result of all of them leaving the moment Ra began striking out at other System Lords. Yamm, and the others, had determined not wait to be killed.

The circumstances in which the five Goa’uld had found themselves had left them with little choice but to cooperate. He had immediately claimed the first planet...smaller than the other two, but much easier to protect. He dictated the terms of their cooperation. The others had argued vehemently against him. Until they realized that they had no other choice...none of them had any other choice.

For ten thousand years they had been here. Never attacking, although each watched the others carefully, never allowing any growth that could be a threat. It was an unconventional arrangement. But it had allowed them to live as the gods they believed themselves to be, without the threat of death at the hands of a more powerful System Lord.

He had been the first to limit the number of slaves he kept. If the multitude of slaves Ra had held were able to revolt against him, and be victorious, it would not take many slaves to kill him. He had only warriors to serve him, no true Jaffa. There was little doubt that if the slaves rose up, his warriors would join them, rather than protect him. So he had devised a plan. Only a few, carefully chosen slaves were allowed to bear children. And only every ten years could those few women do so. It was all that was necessary to maintain the number of slaves he needed to carry out the tasks of keeping his temple and his palace functioning. That the others had chosen to follow his example meant nothing to him.

He had been concerned that the one female Goa’uld among them who could have spawned prim’ta for Jaffa, would do so in order to become more powerful than her brothers and sister. However, the other female, a vicious and most disagreeable sort, had made certain that this solar system would never see the rivers and lakes filled with prim’ta.

"Warriors," he muttered under his breath. "Not true Jaffa."

It was a most unconventional arrangement, he thought. He was well aware that the others planned and plotted continually. He had his own plans and schemes, although he would never admit to being like the others. He was far stronger. More intelligent. More determined to rise again to the heights from which he had fallen. In spite of the planning and plotting and scheming...they managed to maintain the status quo. While he insisted to himself, the priests he had ordained, his warriors, and his slaves that he was the Supreme System Lord, it was nothing more than a hollow declaration.

There hadn’t been a summit of the five for nearly six thousand years, Yamm thought, and the one summit they had agreed to was merely a gathering to make certain none had managed to gain an advantage over the others. They had their territories, they abided by the rules of their tiny Empire, and they continued to live…perhaps not thriving, but they weren’t facing imminent death. He snorted softly. Not facing death did not mean they were living well. He sometimes felt he had nothing more now that he’d had as a lackey for Ra.

It had been a risk. He had calculated and planned carefully. He would finally take the steps to end the stalemate and become the most powerful System Lord. He had made a bet, and had won. He had knowledge the others didn’t. And that information would allow him to return to the stars of his birth. To finally take his place in the Empire again.

Yamm strode into the room, his robe billowing behind him, the deep purple proclaiming his leadership. He didn’t even glance at the four occupants of the chairs he’d had his slaves place in a semi-circle exactly ten feet from the dais on which his throne sat…an attempt to pose them as subordinates, in appearance if not reality.

Ianna shifted slightly, was barely able to resist rolling her eyes at the display. Yamm controlled an entire planet. But…it was the smallest of the habitable planets. It was also mostly desert. She often comforted herself with that reality when she grew agitated at the position she’d been forced to accept.

Yamm didn’t miss the movement. He ignored it. His eyes moved over Qingu and Tiamat…mother and son, queen and consort...and thanks to her schemes and plans which had gone awry...now mortal enemies. Neither, however, strong enough nor determined enough to destroy the other. He pretended not to notice that Kothar sat relaxed, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. No doubt his ability to create ships and weapons from the simple iron and copper ores that were in abundance in his territory had something to do with his indifference. While his ships couldn’t withstand repeated attacks, the sheer number he now held prevented his ‘neighbors’ from attacking him.

Worthless. The lot of them, absolutely worthless. Yamm shielded his thoughts behind his hooded brown eyes. The information he was about to share, information that had cost him dearly, would open a door…one that would allow him to finally be rid of these incompetent and irrational creatures. He settled himself on his throne. Knowing that one of them would speak out, too confident of their own standing to fear his ire.

"Shall we sit here all day and stare at you, or will you tell us the reason we’ve been summoned?" Tiamat demanded. Her face was weathered – her symbiote had been wounded in a battle against Ra in the first days of the Goa’uld Empire. For many years she hadn’t been able to prevent her host from aging. Those wounds had also prevented her from being able to take on a new host. Two facts that made her furious…and dangerous.

Yamm signaled to a slave, waited until a chalice filled with wine was placed in his hand. He took a sip, his eyes never leaving the grey, anger-filled eyes of his enemy. "I have news from the stars of our home." Not one of the Goa’uld staring at him had been prepared for such a statement. Their expressions of open-mouthed shock brought a barely suppressed smile to his face. Feeling especially magnanimous, Yamm signaled again, and the slave stepped forward with a tray loaded with heavy chalices. A second slave followed with two bottles of wine.

Ianna shook her head, her dark brown hair falling over her shoulders. "Impossible." She waved the slaves away.

"Lord Yu controls a vast area in the farthest reaches our home galaxy," Yamm replied. "I have, for some time, been sending trusted Jaffa to travel as close to his holdings as possible. And to listen for any contact between Yu’s ships."

Kothar sat straighter in his chair. Of the five Goa’uld gathered, his position was the most precarious. His fleet of Goa’uld ships had always been the smallest. In spite of the number of ships he controlled, he didn’t dare take on his ‘frenemies’, for those ships could be rendered to scrap most easily by the al’kesh the others owned. "Those Jaffa must have heard something, or we’d not be sitting here." He accepted the wine, sniffed it briefly, then took a cautious sip. He wrinkled his nose, then put the chalice back on the tray.

The only Goa’uld with any sense, Yamm thought. Kothar was not the strongest among them. But he was the most intelligent. He had spent millennia puttering in his workshops and laboratories. Creating. Building. Learning. ‘This is the only Goa’uld with which I must tread lightly,’ Yamm thought. ‘Perhaps the only Goa’uld with whom I dare ally myself.’ He took another sip of wine. "They did."

"I weary of your pointless games," Tiamat said, her voice rising. She had also refused the wine. "Tell us about the information, or I will have my Jaffa search your computers until they find it."

Qingu winced slightly, then shook his head. "Be silent, hag." When the slaves approached him, he lightly licked his lips. He hesitated for a long moment, looked at the beautifully decorated glass bottle with barely concealed yearning. Then, like the others, he waved them away.

Tiamat turned to look at the Goa’uld who was her son, and had once been her consort. "Silence yourself, fool, lest I finally rid the universe of your presence."

Yamm held up a hand. "Enough of the petty bickering," he said firmly, his voice filling the room.

"I too would like to know what you have learned, before I grow older," Ianna retorted.

"There has been great upheaval in the galaxy of our forefathers," Yamm replied at length, enjoying the agitated movements of the others. He nodded at one of his priests. That man gathered the scrolls that had been waiting on a side table, and carefully gave one to each Goa’uld.

For several moments all that could be heard was the quiet ‘swish’ of a scroll being unrolled, as the information within was quickly read. The tension in the room became palpable. Yamm’s Jaffa, who stood guard along the perimeter of the room, shifted unobtrusively at the change. Slaves pressed themselves further into the shadows against the walls.

"This…this cannot be!" Ianna gasped, the scroll falling into her lap.

"You have verification of this information?" Kothar asked, his dual voice filled with disbelief.

Yamm nodded. "I dared to send a delegation to Lord Yu. He was most surprised to hear that I…that we…still live. He sent proof, knowing that it would be difficult for us to believe that so much could have transpired."

"Ra…dead?" Tiamat whispered. If the mighty Ra was dead…she shook her head. Part of her rejoiced to learn that her enemy breathed no longer. The larger part was terrified. If Ra had been killed…and by slaves, according to the information from Yu…how could she hope to survive?

"According to…this," Ianna said, waving a hand over the scroll, "there are very few Goa’uld still living. And none of them more than minor System Lords. Even Yu admits to having lost much of his holdings in battle against other Goa’uld."

"Even more to the Tau’ri," Yamm said, his voice flat. "It seems that the slaves of the First World travel through the Chappa’ai as if they were gods themselves. They have emboldened other slaves to rise up against their Masters."

Glances were exchanged. Fear etched in their expressions.

"So, why do you tell us this?" Qingu asked.

Yamm hesitated. His gaze moved quickly over the faces in front of him, rested on the strong features of Kothar’s face. "I believe we face a decision."

"Decision?" Ianna repeated.

"We could remain here, in peace. Until the Tau’ri manage to find us, and no doubt destroy us," Yamm replied.

"They would not dare!" Tiamat hissed.

"Did you read the list of the Goa’uld the Tau’ri have killed?" Yamm asked, raising his voice slightly.

Ra. They killed Ra! And so many others: Apophis. Cronus. Moloc. Seth. Hathor. None as strong as Ra, but certainly powerful in their own right…how could mere slaves have killed them? She refused to answer his question, but the fire died in Tiamat’s eyes.

"We could join with our brothers and sisters," Yamm said, his voice calm, low. "Together, we can destroy Ba’al for his arrogance, and for leading the Empire to this horrible state."

"And then?" Kothar asked.

"We turn our attention to the First World. And rid ourselves of the scourge of Tau’ri who would believe themselves as powerful as their gods," was the calm reply.

Kothar shook his head, tapping the scroll in his hand with one finger. "Any battle with Ba’al, according to Yu’s predictions, will weaken the Empire even further. He claims that the Tau’ri weapons are formidable, and able to decimate Jaffa armies."

"So he claims," Ianna snipped. Even though she had no doubt that the words of the oldest Goa’uld were true.

"But if we band together-" Yamm started.

Kothar tossed the scroll to the floor. "I do not have a large army of Jaffa. I do not have ships that withstand extended battle, although I do continue to work on that problem," he said, the latter mostly to himself.

"But you have a large number of ships," Yamm insisted.

"I have lands. I have priests who lead worship in my name. I have Jaffa to defend me and what I hold. I have slaves to meet my every need. I am alive," Kothar responded. "If we go against the Tau’ri, whose numbers are in the billions, according to Yu, and who become stronger with each battle they win, we will suffer just as surely as those on that list."

"Can we believe Yu?" Qingu asked.

"He is the oldest Goa’uld in the Empire. That he is still alive is because he chooses to remain separated from the others. He protects his territories viciously, preventing the others from daring to attack him. And his information, as shocking as it is, can only be the truth. Because he has proof of the deaths of those Goa’uld," Yamm answered. "Deaths witnessed by other Goa’uld, or by the Jaffa faithful to those fallen System Lords. He has even managed to collect the skeletons of at least five of the dead…although how he was able to do that, I have no idea."

Once again the four Goa’uld exchanged glances. Ianna shuddered.

"So, do we join our brothers and sisters, to stop this abomination?" Yamm asked.

"If we join our brothers and sisters, we only bare our own throats to the blade of the Tau’ri," Kothar argued.

Tiamat studied the Goa’uld beside her. For so long she had embraced her anger. Her rage. Had warmed her very soul with those flames. She too dropped her scroll to the floor. Sighed heavily. "I am too old to do battle in a war I cannot win," she muttered.

Qingu stared at the scroll, his attention caught by the myths that Yu had shared, stories of how he and the other Goa’uld he had known, had battled, were remembered. ‘A defeated god’. That was what was written beside his name. He closed his eyes. Marduk had so soundly defeated him that he’d barely escaped with his life. Rather than be grateful for such mercies, Tiamat had screeched that he hadn’t been strong enough, fought well enough. It was satisfying to note that Marduk was dead. Killed by the Tau’ri.

"Do you have anything to add, Qingu?" Yamm asked, almost gently.

He shook his head. "I can see nothing but death if we return to the stars of our birth," Qingu replied. "We are among the oldest of the Goa’uld, simply by the fate of having escaped Ra’s wrath over the revolt of his slaves. None of us, no matter what we believed, or attempted, were more than minor Goa’uld in his Empire. Here…" He took a deep breath. "We will remain the oldest…and alive…if we choose to stay where we are."

Yamm frowned, pushing away the truth of Qingu’s words. He’d been certain that Tiamat and Qingu would be anxious to return and battle against those who had stood with Marduk against them. To settle old scores. Perhaps too much time had passed. Too much time pretending to be System Lords, holding meager lands and a few slaves and Jaffa as talismans against the bitter sting of their losses.

"There is always the chance that our numbers could be an advantage to our brothers and sisters," Ianna said slowly. "But the risk…the risk is so great!"

Qingu pointed to the scroll. "Apparently Zeus and his House live still. As does Nergal. Both quite powerful. Together, they could defeat the Tau’ri. But they refuse to do so. There has to be a reason for their hesitancy. I believe they hesitate because of the strength of the Tau’ri. If two so powerful will not become involved, I will not be foolish enough to do so."

"Ra was the most powerful of all Goa’uld," Kothar said, his voice low. "He was defeated by slaves. I agree with Qingu. The number of slaves on the First World is too great for even Zeus and Nergal to face. These slaves have ships. They have weapons. And according to Yu, they have the protection of the Asgard." He shook his head slowly, and rose to his feet. "I will not hasten my death by entering a battle against slaves that cannot be won by the Goa’uld."

"Only Goa’uld are in this battle," Yamm insisted.

"For now," Kothar spat. "Until the numbers are so low that the Tau’ri can simply destroy the survivors with little effort."

"Yamm, we know that the hatred you hold for Ba’al is great. But do not expect us to sacrifice ourselves for your revenge," Ianna said quietly.

He stared at her for a moment. "You would allow the Goa’uld Empire to be destroyed?"

"It was destroyed the moment Ra died at the hands of Tau’ri slaves," Kothar pointed out. "The Goa’uld were a dying race before he discovered the humans. It seems that all he did was to postpone our ultimate fate."

Yamm curled his hands into fists. He’d been certain that he’d find more support from those with whom he’d fled the First World. Cowards. Fools.

"If you choose to go, you give up all rights to the planet you hold," Kothar said, his voice cold.

"You would not dare to touch my holdings," Yamm hissed.

"You will be dead." Kothar shook his head, and rose to his feet. "I will stay here. If the Tau’ri come, the distance will prevent them from coming in large numbers. We can defeat them in smaller numbers. Here. But not there."

"We are not going to fight the Tau’ri, but to destroy the Goa’uld who has brought the Empire so low!" Yamm exploded, jumping to his feet, his fists held stiffly at his sides.

"Then you are blind," Ianna said, rising to her feet as well. "A war among the Goa’uld will reduce their meager numbers even more. The Tau’ri will not allow the chance to completely destroy the Goa’uld Empire to pass. I too, will remain here. And build my forces while I can."

Qingu rose to his feet, letting the scroll he’d held fall to the floor. "It would be folly to become involved in a Goa’uld war that will only result in the death of all. If we stay here, we keep the Empire alive."

Tiamat stood slowly. "Do you believe you will be welcomed? That the Goa’uld of our home galaxy will open their arms to you? They will not. They will remember the battles they fought…and won…against us. We are nothing to them. Even though they have fought one another for as long as we’ve been here, doing nothing more than dwindling their own numbers, they are still more powerful than we. Now, they battle against themselves once more. If they will fight one another, they will attack you as soon as you are near enough. As Kothar says, let the Tau’ri come. We will battle them here."

Yamm shook his head. "You refuse to see! We would battle not against the Tau’ri, but Ba’al! United, the others of the Empire can destroy him! And together, we can destroy the Tau’ri!"

Kothar shook his head stubbornly. "I have more here than I had as a minor Goa’uld serving under Ra. Here I have the status of System Lord. I have no intention of losing what I have." With a final look at Yamm, one that held both contempt and pity, he turned and walked out of the throne room.

Standing helplessly, watching as the others filed out behind Kothar, Yamm finalized in his mind the plans he had made before calling this meeting...a contingency should he fail to find support for his proposal. He had no time for those he considered to be cowards and fools, and the Goa’uld with whom he shared the galaxy had proven...by his standards...to be both. He waved his High Priest forward.

"See to it that my…apologies… are sent immediately," Yamm said, his voice cold.

The priest flinched slightly. "It will be done, My Lord."

The smile that pulled at Yamm’s lips was as cold as his eyes. He had known – when he’d first sent gifts to his…enemies…as tokens of apology – that one day the practice would serve him well. Not one of the Goa’uld would hesitate to drink the wine he offered…his wine cellars held the best wine available. The responses today were merely a show of defiance. Always before his gifts had been received well. This time, there would be more than just wine in the bottles…

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