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Gallia Across the Stars

Gallia Across the Stars

Sep 29, 2020

Gallia Across the Stars

A crossover between Valkyria Chronicles and Stargate: SG-1

Commissioned by @miner249er

Prologue Part 1

5000 years ago
Bareyuz Savannah

Netun patrolled the streets of the soon to be the capitol of the Goddess Bastet, over the mud huts of the simpleminded and fearful folk that lived in these lands.

Like all Jaffa he was sporting the cat’s head tattoo on his forehead, but this one was special: the ink was fresh from his initiation. And he was honoured that of all the things, the gods have favoured him to be in this newest conquest.

He could not help but be awed by the rising pyramid, that would be the home of the goddess and soon the centre of the entire planet’s domain. Given that she had decided to name it Bastetopolis was better in his opinion, as the locals had called Bareyuz before they had been broken under the yoke or fled from the majesty of his goddess.

In fact, in the front of the palace, a slab of stone was slowly taking shape as a cat’s head that artisans were working on under the eyes of the priests and their acolytes.

From what he remembered from the grapevine, the surroundings used to be a savannah that he remembered from growing up in Geb, but now was slowly becoming a desert due to the abundance of Naquadah that seemed to sprout in this land, only.

That was the price of progress and enlightenment, as taught to him by his fellow Jaffa. Civilization was coming and the pyramids and manufactories of the gods would soon dot the lands just like the rest of the galaxy under the rule of the System Lords.

Netun had to remain vigilant in his patrol, as the slaves who still called themselves the Dar-Sen were still wild and hostile to the rule of the System Lords. He saw this in the eyes of each and every man and woman as he walked through the streets, their eyes shining with barely concealed hatred as they carried heavy loads of stone and naquadah in their wicker baskets.

Children would scamper and rush into the alleyways when they noticed his presence. A shame, as he could see potential recruits in the making.

He remembered from three years ago, the first wave from the Chappa’ai had it easy, taking over the city of the Dar-Sen, but as they expanded from Bareyuz the resistance they offered was becoming more coherent and organized, not helped by the expansive forests and hills that the primitives hid

Even then, the First Prime had beaten into their skulls just because the enemy was a rabble, didn’t mean that they were the same people

No one dared touch him, as he had the authority of life and death over them, and the goddess had commanded them to bring the slaves to heel with whatever means necessary. He remembered going to the swamps with his fellow Jaffa, riding on a Pelt’ak and running down the free Dar-Sen that had escaped and abetted an uprising over a minor outpost.

Soon, their children’s children will know the wisdom of the gods, as their place as ordained. Everything lived and died for the Gods as they willed it.

He wondered if they had had the potential to make good prim’ta and later as proper Jaffa for Bastet.

The fight was in their souls. He and the rest of his kin must beat it and mould it into a proper path against their true enemies.


High above in her soon to become a magnificent palace, the goddess Bastet had deigned to visit in her personal Ha’tak when her First Prime had given her interesting reports about the newest planet they conquered in her name.

Her First Prime as ever was dutiful and as ever her new home was designed to her exacting standards. This First Prime was better than her previous ones even!

The room she was in had the finest silks from the weavers of Lord Yu’s domain, dyed in that crimson red she was currently favouring right now, and her quarters were filled with the proper sigils and idols of her religious aspect, made by the finest artisans and priests that worshipped her.

Colour her surprised when her favourite chilled wine was present on her desk, just as she had wanted.

To be able to build such a good palace in three months and have the slaves do it without problems on the way? Why she had to find another way to confer another honour to his efficiency and firm hand in keeping the newly conquered people on a leash.

Perhaps a night on her bed?

Her musings were interrupted when her First Prime arrived, who then approached and stopped twenty steps from her, and prostates himself fully, lying down as he extended his hands in supplication.

She was pleased with the proper deference being shown to her august status. Such good and trained help were hard to find these days.

With one command, she deigned to look at this lowly worm. “Rise, my First Prime.”

He obeyed, rising to a kneeling position, head down and eyes staring at the shiny marble floor. “My goddess.”

Though she mused on the particulars of her palace, Bastet was conferring with her second in command regarding the quotas of the new planet.

“I am pleased. In three years you have conquered this planet and in the first six months, you have sent enough naquadah to ensure my power and stop the other false gods from taking a foothold. And yet,” she paused, “Why have this last month’s quota of naquadah the same as the last shipments?”

She paced, “And I would have expected that there would be a detachment of fighting Jaffa from the populace here.” She cut the First Prime, hoping to garner a reaction. “Have the Fighting Masters been so lax to their duties? I have had high hopes for you.”

The First Prime schooled his face, thankful that his goddess could not see and punish him for his temerity. “Goddess Bastet, she of the fairest of them all, I have endeavoured to ensure that they would come as you needed, and on time. How are the quotas so far my lady?” Said the First Prime.

He knew he made a mistake when her eyes glowed yellow, and that deep booming voice said, “It is not satisfactory!” Yelled the bitch at him! “I have been hearing from my priest and my divine powers that there are delays and the slaves are restive, despite your pathetic excuses. So what are you doing?”

The kneeling Jaffa makes excuses. “We cannot work when you’ve had by your command scattered us all around, and I’ve been hearing fantastical tales from distant outposts of silver-haired maidens wielding a large but sharpened Jaffa Staff and a shield leading war-bands that wipe out a patrol or two then disperse like the mists.”

It burned him on how these primitives made a mockery of such a sacred and divine weapon that the gods had forged for him and his kin. He vowed that they would soon taste his wrath.

Bastet was enraged at such a pathetic excuse, wanted to strike down this impetuous shol’va. but a moment of clarity made her use the pain glove instead. “Preposterous, it is you incompetence that s doing this! Find me that shol ’ va in a fortnight's moon, or else don't come back. I remember that Harun who is trained in the ways will take your place, and I will allow this as My Judgment.

Searing pain filled his core, as his nerves became molten lava that slowly flowed throughout his body. Yet he didn’t cry out as that would invite further wrath from his goddess, focusing on his mind his anger and rage over his traitorous and cowardly subordinate. That bastard? Who was all bark and no bite?

Over his dead body.

Without any inflexion of pain, he said, “By your command.”

“Then leave.”

Inwardly Bastet was impressed. Few had the willpower to resist the pain glove, and yet her First Prime joined that rarefied ranks. That impression solidified as he raised up and she could see no shaking wracked his body, and leave without a word.

Now the System Lord had to focus her thoughts on this strange, blue glowing crystal that the local primitives had worshipped and used in various trinkets and accessories. She was no Nirrti, but the crystals were interesting.

They were good energy source, and they were plentiful on this planet, but so far from naquadah as both were present, the latter outnumbering the former.

That this planet was full of the Tau’ri that probably another System Lord had taken and abandoned for other reasons, the presence of blue crystals that seemingly abounded the planet sparked her interest. The primitives were using it for many things, and she felt that it belonged to her rightfully, and would utilize it better.

She had no use for trinkets and healing stones they purported to be but wondered if she could make better cannons out of them.

If these exotic crystals proved better than naquadah… well, she had leverage as the sole user of this blue crystal.

She was going to do more studies if the claims were true that it could also heal and provide as an energy source at the same time.

And those silver maidens sounded interesting. Her host was past its prime in beauty, and now she could see the first wrinkles which were unacceptable.

If her First Prime could conjure one body, then her divine essence was enough to break in her potential host and plunder what secrets and powers it has.

A slow smile spread on her face. Then perhaps this could be the single step on her path as the Supreme System Lord?

Suddenly the palace was rocked with explosions.


Netun was caught surprised as he saw the palace of Bastet burning. He could not believe it!

How? The tribes and nearby city-states were at their most submissive! He could not fathom that the primitives of this planet could execute such a plan of such magnitude!

The massive and proud cat head sculpture of Bastet was gone, nothing more than rubble and crater in its place, punctuated by bloody chunks of gore and smoke.

It must be the work of an agent of another false god! Or the fabled To’kra it must be, as the whispers and hushed rumours from the barracks could attest to.

Suddenly there was a lunge from one of the Dar-Sen, hate in her eyes as she screamed obscenities at him.

Netun dodged her wide strike and kills her with a strike to her neck, as she stumbled down with her head paced at an unnatural angle.

His training kicked in. “Jaffa Kree! Rally to me!” as he searches for the scattered and no doubt confused Jaffa. This he hoped would bring the scattered Jaffa around him and bring righteous retribution on these shol’va that dared defy and strike a god.

The explosions kept on coming.


That was the signal.

Over the cliffs overlooking the accursed city from those outsiders, the smoke and multiple cascade of explosions was a sign that the plan was working as intended.

And that brought relief to the man and his small party watching

For the Johtaja of the Dar-Sen, this has been nothing more than the culmination of three years of planning and seeding the damned city with his men and those brave enough to go into the belly of the beast. It was a risky thing, but he gathered the tribes and rallied them for this one final push.

If all else failed, then darkness was going to fall over the Dar-Sen.

The Johtaja was sure of that.

Everything that made the Dar-Sen would be gone, their oral and written histories erased by this so-called priesthood of the Goa’uld.

And in its place broken slaves as docile as the sheep of the plains people and evil Jaffa would take over where death and misery became life.

She now understood why the elders had passed down stories that the Ringed Gate brought nothing but misfortune and evil.

“So, this is the final push against the star people, then?”

She looked at her Kven, the captain of her lifeguard and her husband who looked at Bastetopolis with a critical eye. “It is dear husband of mine, despite the host I have gathered in these last dozen moons I am aware of how restless the warriors have been.”

The Kven scoffed. “You mean, the hotheads who have not yet tasted blood and saw gore, aye? We both know that it is the elders that chafe at either not making an accommodation with these…beings or not winning the decisive battle just like in the stories.”

If she could, the Johtaja would deal with the elders once and for all, yet they had a firm grip with the warriors and merchants, two branches she needed to most to reform the Dar-Sen and make them a power to be reckoned with.

The time for the disunited tribes and city-states had to end.

The Kven said, “But was making a deal and cooperation with the Valkyrur worth the concession? Bareyuz is our land, despite how the vile star men have defiled it with their evil magicks and tools.”

She did not know if it was worth it. But she had to show confidence and hide any hint of weakness. “It may be so, but who would want to return to this cursed place? What would they do with this wasteland? Build a monument of their own glory?”

She had the thankless task to deal with the Valkyrur, too.

Oddballs and outcasts that found a strange religion and right now were talking tales of the Goddess Valkyria who blessed them with magics and knowledge no tribesmen could fathom or match so far.

Worse still, was that they were getting converts and followers from the barbarians of the steppe of the eastern lands, and some of the hill tribes of the far west were getting receptive.

Her husband felt that they were going to be the enemies of the Dar-Sen if not in the near future, then in two to three generations then, as they would bring their religion by sword and lance.

The doom of the Dar-Sen would not end here, by the short and brutal whips of the Jaffa, but by the long and inevitable war with these Valkyrur.

The Johtaja turned back. “Come, husband. We have a war to win.”


The Maiden of Valkyria, chosen champion of the War Goddess was wielding power to free the people from the false gods, and she felt unlimited power flow in her veins.

She was glowing blue, a sign that of her favour in this just crusade against the vile heretics from the stars and with the lance forged by the hands of the goddess herself there was nothing that could stop the Valkyrur!

And a bright light manifested before her, a woman similar in looks, sporting the red eyes and silver hair and yet possessing ancient wisdom.

“My champion. Go forth and destroy the false lords, as one of their avatar of evil is present. Aid the Dar-Sen here with your might that they might know they do not stand alone.”

Valkyria spoke to her, and she rallied her war host to finally drive out the heretics and heathens and burn down the city as a monument to all their sins.

Her power was overwhelming.

And she would show the wrath of a goddess against such evil beings.


In a realm beyond mortal comprehension, a voice cut out.

“So this is where you have been gallivanting to in your time. Playing god.”

Valika or Valkyria to her chosen people was yanked out of her musings of helpfulness by her fellow ancients, angry at her interference and telling her so.

She saw two of her fellow Ascended, disapproval in their features. She knew that she was breaking their most sacred edict, but what choice did she have?

Valika stood her ground and begged them to have her one final chance in saving her people from Goa’uld retribution.

“Please, I could not allow the Goau’ld to commit another atrocity. One is too many to bear watching over and over again. They have our blood, don’t you see? Let me protect them from the vengeance of the Goau’ld one last time.”

“You know the rules. We cannot interfere or else we create the very problems we are supposed to prevent.”

There was a considerable pause, and Valika feared that her plea was rejected before it came out of her lips.

“One time then, and you cut off contact permanently. You will see the consequences soon enough.”

That chance was reluctantly given. If she was mortal Valika would have sunk to her knees in relief, but knew that this was her final chance before being divested of this planet and its interesting people.

She hoped that both the Dar-Sen and the Valkyrur would fare well after this.


The city was burning.

It’s was nothing but a bloodbath.

Netun had been fighting in the streets and killing a lot of people that wanted him dead, but the chaos and confusion in the city meant that the Jaffa could not fire effectively and had to resort to hand to hand.

Despite their martial prowess, one by one falls to enraged and fanatical Dar Sen who didn’t care if they lived or died, as long as the Jaffa and those that supported them died in droves.

He didn’t know how long he was fighting, the only respite he had were the pauses to catch his breath and to check his armour before trekking the dangerous side streets to the palace.

He winced as his right shoulder spiked in pain, a wound courtesy of a very lucky strike from one of the slaves.

Blowing up the slave quarters may give a vicious satisfaction right now, but the damage and the resulting fires added to the city from that spree had impeded their progress.

His armour, a pristine black was now dented and with scratches and soot from the flames as he had to deal with constant ambushes and vicious close-quarters combat, whittling his small band of Jaffa from a band of thirty to him alone.

His last comrade had been swarmed by fifteen Dar-Sen that stabbed and stabbed and stabbed until

He heard the war cry of the slaves that wanted to kill him.

Kuole, paskiainen!

Netun did not know and didn’t care about the language of the slaves, but he had an inkling that it meant ‘Die shol’va!’ or close to it.

Soon a booming voice was heard from Bastet.


The message was clear: She needs to fight another day. Avenge her! Divine retribution must be close at hand and that bolstered the surviving Jaffa, and glorious death was coming for him.

If he had to bring a hundred of these fanatics with him as part of his funeral passing, then so be it.

Then Netun sees a big coalition of free Dar-Sen and magical wielding fanatics. And they are closing in on the walls and open city gates.

His final moments were upon him, and he would face it with dignity, daring not to shame his ancestors.

Thousands of them, war cries shaking the walls as the final death of Bastetopolis was at hand. And he could see one being shrouded in glowing blue light as her Ma’tok burst in light.

Netun in his final moments sees the biggest laser stream towards him and then he knew no more, becoming particles as the city exploded into ashes.


The palace was burning, and smoke filled the rooms as servants and guards rose up against their masters.

Bastet escaped by the skin of her teeth, yet she rages at the loss of that blue crystal in the palace. Everywhere she saw traitors and incompetence everywhere, as the palace servants hounded their every step and Jaffa guards died left and right!

It was only by the sacrifice of her First Prime by shielding her from an explosion from one of the escape tunnels as she reached her ship.

How had these savages known to rig a naquadah explosive?!

And that powerful laser cannon wrecked her city! Her city!

She made it to her personal Ha’tak, but the rest of the ships were burning or became targets

She was about to call in the orbital bombardment, but then signals came from her Hat'ak that they sensors and everything is failing but the drives.

Then the navigator sees on his sensors signals. Asgard signals. “My Lord! Sensors detect Asgard ships arriving at the furthest planet! What are your orders?”

They needed to get the Ha’tak out of here. Quickly. “Those accursed wretches! They will get their time we have enough time! Engage hyperdrives and flee, or I shall be most displeased!”

No one would know of her failures here. And she made the decision: she had to kill the rest of the survivors in the ship to ensure secrecy and ensure nothing would taint her divinity.

Unbeknownst to the System Lord and surviving that was the last action of Valika who wished that her people would not suffer from Goa’uld retribution and from the mistakes of her people.

Manifesting once again she appeared before one of her champions, who was leading the post-siege cleanup. “My champion.”

The silver maiden bowed and genuflected. “Goddess Valkyrur, the evil star people you have warned us about have been drive, their evil avatar of their false gods driven off.”

“And that is to be commended, my child. But I must go beyond, to a place beyond your reach and ken, to ensure that the false lords do not return.”

The Valkyrur faltered. “Goddess?”

Valika smiled. “I am not abandoning you and your people my champion. My work here is done, and the forces of the false lords are spreading their vileness elsewhere. Take heart, for I am always with you. And this is my last command: be strong, and spread the knowledge of my teachings and values to those who would listen, that they may, in turn, learn of wisdom and strength.”

In a blink, the goddess was no more.

The maiden, with tears in her eyes, had her faith strengthened. She would make the Valkyrur strong and spread their knowledge and strength throughout the world.

Her goddess willed it.


Time passed, and seasons changed, and so did knowledge and history.

The Ringed Gate, cursed for all time, was buried in the deepest canyon the Dar-Sen and Valkyrur were able to find, its location and legends erased from history and memory.

The land surrounding the city of Bastetopolis, now returned to its rightful name of Bareyuz never recovered, in time becoming the Barious Desert.

A monument was made, commemorating the event where two civilizations united and drove off an evil that came from the stars, and that peace, at last, would return to the land.

Alas, fate meant it not to be.

Generations passed, and people forgot the tale of the stars and focused on their petty problems and the rising power of the Valkyrur.

The Cataclysm was the last of the naquadah used, by the Valkyrur that was an impasse from the Darsceni, who resisted the might of the conquering polity.

It plunged them into a dark age, and yet, in the end, Valkyria’s descendants won the narrative as they tore down anything of the Darscen and rewrote history to villainize the vanquished, including the monument both had built at the Barious Desert.

And then forgotten, leaving it to the sands of time as their superiority was assured.

That monument which thousands of years later, one Welkin Gunther and Alicia Melchiott hot on the heels of Prince Maximillien and Selvaria Bles discovered.

In a stroke of fate, after the Second Europan War and in the resulting peace Gallian archaeological teams discovered a large, peculiar ring riddled with indecipherable runes and nine chevrons from its hidden burial place...

To be continued...

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