Mutants & Masterminds: StarGate Freedom - Prologue: Bethany, Narinder and Christian

[z006]

Click to reveal..

Roll for Theology/Philosophy to recognize the name:
1d20+5=22

She needed to use the restroom, but that could wait. She was face to face with someone with authority and he looked human; whenever she'd imagined (in the odd occasional SciFi Channel induced daydream) aliens in an invasion, they'd always been utterly inhuman. It seemed somehow wrong that they should look human. Maybe too frightening, as at least aliens couldn't violate a humanity they didn't possess.

"Thank you, but I'm fine for now." was all she said, though, and with just as pleasant a manner. She smiled her hostess-Senator's wife smile and commented, "Your name is Greek too, the name of a the ferryman of the dead across a river named Styx. I was told we were being taken somewhere to see if we were useful to a 'Lord Chronos' and a 'Lord Ra'. There seems to be a similarity between our mythology and the names of your people. Have you been to Earth before?"

Her tone was mild but layered with the thousand other questions and implications that she wasn't quite ready bring forward as direct questions as she waited to see if he'd allow her to be the one asking questions.

[z-Servant of Ra]

"Hmm," Charon said, his lips quirking in a smile. "Here is how this will work. I will ask a question, and you will answer," Charon said. He pulled a golden device out of his drawer and picked up a stylus. "And if I catch you lying, I will cut out your tongue, and whatever parts I need to remove to convince you to tell the truth."

That pleasant smile came back as he said, "What is your name?" The stylus waited.

[z006]

Bethany listened quietly as Charon went from host to Torquemada and back again, only the tensing line of her shoulders betraying the sudden shift in mood of the conversation.

"Bethany," she answered succinctly and settled into the chair; either this was going to be as long and grueling a process as she could make it, or she was shortly going to be tortured and probably killed. She kept her voice calm and cool and bottled the rage and fear that was burning inside her behind a nearly unnatural stillness.

[z-Servant of Ra]

"Bethany what?" he replied, tapping away with the stylus. He glanced up at her through the glasses. The expression made him deceptively harmless looking, but Bethany didn't doubt that he was more Torquemada than Martha Stewart.

He tilted his head and added, "Your full name - given, all middle, and your family. Oh, and your social security number, too."

[z006]

Bethany sat quietly for several long moments. The question itself was an indication of how much the invaders knew about their systems and culture. Giving her social security number meant she might as well tell them anything they wanted to know about her in regards to her public life. She thought about being tortured and about how long she could obscure the truth and what good it would do, given the question. The question. Her mind revolved around it and they were both aware of the tick of invisible clocks.

"Why do you care? Do you intend to leave our governments in tact, where such a number might mean anything? It certainly hasn't seemed so, so why do you care who is who?" It wasn't asked defensively, but nor was it entirely calmly. Dealing with the enormity and truth of the situation was more than overwhelming and Bethany's mind, even under the threat of torture, was trying to skirt the issue by stalling.

[z-Servant of Ra]

Charon sat back in his chair, the thick leather seat squeaking as it tilted. "Lord Cronus is still deciding what to do about your governments," Charon said, blinking at her. At least the smile was gone. "His methods will be... extreme. Your clothes are nice, meaning you're a person of wealth and taste, and you've had training, enough that you're well-spoken and know what not to say. You acted in a leadership role when the Jaffa found you. So you have a sense of civic duty, either naturally or through education.

"There is exactly one way to minimize the devastation to your people and their way of life," Charon said. "Cooperate with us, or watch your world burn." The whites of his eyes glowed, flaring as if fire lit him from within.

[z006]

Something cold and instinctual screamed in the back of Bethany's brain and for nearly an entire second her body was rigid with the need to run. She wasn't a fighter, not like that; but she was a Senator's wife. Her mind recovered as much as it could for now and digested what he'd said. She kept herself from leaning forward, unwilling to give him, whatever he was, that much of a psychological advantage, but she did watch him carefully. And she filed the name 'Jaffa' away.

"What do you want from us? If cooperation is what you want, then we need to know....why you invaded us, instead of trying communication and diplomacy first. Our world is far from idyllic, politically, but full-scale invasion wasn't the only option." Fear and anger kept such close beds that she was struggling to keep the accusation out of her tone and continue the line of communication that Charon had opened. Her success came from years of dealing with men...whatever their species...far more argumentative and arrogant than Charon had shown so far, but she still had that air of stillness about her that was telling for those that knew her well.

[z-Servant of Ra]

"Lord Ra already told you why in his broadcast," Charon said, staring at her. "This planet was once his, and you heaped insult by attacking his flagship. And it was your country, this country. Ra is within his rights to raze it to the ground and give it to Sokar. That would be Hell on Earth, literally."

Charon smiled a touch. "You started the war; we're finishing it. This is the last time I ask - what is your full name and social security number?" He flexed his right hand, and the odd golden glove glinted in the overhead lights.

[z006]

Bethany's expression for a moment showed her utter confusion at what he'd said. How would the US have started a war with aliens? How could they have attacked this 'Lord Ra's flagship? It was all a little too much like a bad Star Trek episode and she really wished she could convince herself that Devon had finally got her to go bar-hopping with him and that this was some weird drunken dream. She was too tired and too keenly aware of the aches and fear in her body to retreat into such a semi-pleasant fantasy, though.

She'd pushed Charon just about as far as she could, she sensed, and with a discussion about possibly leaving the world governments in place, even as puppets, there wasn't much to be gained by delaying the discovery of who she was and who she knew. Bethany wasn't as brave as her husband or Devon or Narindar, life had never asked her to be and she'd willingly obliged to being one of elite and pampered of her world. Charon had giver her information, even if she didn't understand most of it, and as a diplomat she knew it was her turn to share.

,,

"My name is Bethany Angelica Maria DeCoursey nee Rin, my social security number is 016-12-1822."

[z-Servant of Ra]

His stylus tapped on the device for a moment, then paused. His eyes narrowed at her. "Bethany DeCoursey, wife of Senator Daniel DeCoursey?" he inquired, tipping his head at her.

That surprised her more. "If we invaded you first," she asked, "then how do you know so much about us?"

"You have all the clues you need to answer your own question," Charon said, leaning back and folding his hands over his chest. His thumbs rolled over one another as he smirked at her. "If you were smarter, Mrs. DeCoursey, you'd know exactly why I know so much about you."

He leaned forward, still smirking at her befuddlement. "Are you still a housewife, still married to the Senator? If so, you'll be useful in helping us contact the U.S. Government." He smiled at her, his expression icy. "I'm sure the Senator will be more cooperative if you are in our care."

[z006]

Click to reveal..

(22:55:28) ChatBot: (Malachite) rolls 1d20 and gets 13.
13 + 4 = 17 to recognize the man in front of her.

Bethany's eyes narrowed at the insult, but she listened to what he said. Some little voice in her mind had been vying for her attention ever since she'd sat down, and finally it was given a moment to be heard. Her eyes widened in shock as the realization hit her, and then stumbled into confusion.

"You...you look like the egyptologist. The one that tried to convince Danny that...." Her voice trailed off again as she remembered what Dr. Jackson had been trying to convince her husband of. Pyramids as landing pads for spaceships, aliens living on Earth thousands of years ago. Her eyes flicked back up to the man in front of her; a man entirely different in demeanor and bearing the bookish and somewhat clumsy archaeologist she had briefly met a handful of years ago.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a whisper.

[z-Servant of Ra]

"Happened?" he said, smiling. "I am Charon. Daniel is no more; I am the Ferryman." He seemed to be taking pleasure in her discomfort. "Jaffa!" Three large men entered the room, wearing the now-familiar armor. "Take her to aboard the ship to the holding cells."

One of the men reached for her arms, and Bethany didn't fight him. The trio silently lead her into the next room. It looked as though it had been used as a conference room; a window looked into another room, but Bethany caught the barest glimpse before she was pulled away. A short platform containing inset ring in the floor caught her eye. The Jaffa pushed her up onto it, stepping right behind her. One touched his glove, and more rings popped out the floor as a white light filled the area. Bethany barely had time to gasp before she felt as though she were being pulled up-

She was in another place, something that was Egyptian and ornate. As she glanced around, the Jaffa led her to a door and thrust her into a room.

Other people were there: a handsome man with dark hair and beautiful eyes, holding two small children with familial features; a lovely blonde woman who sat with her face turned to the wall; and an older man wearing a suit and a black eye, holding a pair of broken glasses.

Bethany realized that she knew the man with the children. He was Canadian... Yseult's husband, François.

Click to reveal..

Bethany's Notice: 10 vs. DC 15 - FAILURE

(23:46:44) ChatBot: (Servant_of_Ra) rolls 1d20 and gets 4.

[z006]

"François?" Bethany's voice nearly squeeked in surprise. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes scanned over the children, "And where is Yse? Is she okay?"

The man shook his head and replied with a soft accent, "No, she left with some...some men. Before we were taken." His eyes sought out hers, hoping for something resembling good news. "Do you - do you know where they are taking us? Or why? Or where we are now?"

Bethany shook her head, "I don't. Charon didn't tell me. I...I was at Cheyenne Mountain, but I don't think we're there now."

"Cheyenne Mountain?" He sighed, his fingers running protectively over the hair of his children. "Is that somewhere in the United States? I had hoped....." His eyes flicked downward, then back up to Bethany. "Well, I had hoped many things. None of them included an alien invasion."

There was silence in the cell for a moment before he queitly asked, "Do you know what they're going to do with us?"

Betheny shook her head and answered in the same hushed tones, "No. But sooner or later, we'll find out."

Bethany sat down next to her friend, helping to comfort his children since she couldn't comfort her own daughter. The interview with 'Charon' had been more confusing than illuminating and she wondered at the changes in the rather dorky archaeologist she dimly remembered. He'd seemed so earnest before; had he found some way to contact these aliens? Had he willingly betrayed his own country, his entire planet, just because he hadn't been believed? Bethany liked to think the best of people, but ten years steeped in politics told her that people had gone bad before on much less reasoning.

Eventually boredome drew her back out of her shell of shock and she made her way around to the others in the room. The blonde woman refused to speak to her, or anytone; she just shook her head and turned away from Bethany, curling up into a tighter knot of fear and defeat. The older man's name was Edward, or at least that's what Bethany thought he'd told her. His jaw was starting to turn purple and swell to match his eye. After a few moments of conversation he just shook his head, patted her on the knee, and laid down on the floor to rest. She took the silent suggestion and went back over to François and his children and leaned back against the wall to wait.

[z-Servant of Ra]

It was later. Sooner brought food and water, and trips to a room to use the facilities and wash up. The soldiers who handled them were professional about it, keeping an eye on them. The scrutiny was uncomfortable, but there wasn't a sense that the soldiers enjoyed it.

François took care of his children; the older man helped himself, and the blond was nonresponsive. Bethany tried to help her but was rebuffed, and finally left her alone, as did the soldiers.

More than a day passed like this, or at least several hours of them being left alone to sleep and eat four meals. Bethany talked to François a bit, enough that she knew he was from Montreal and that he'd been separated from his wife. He didn't elaborate how, and she didn't ask.

Their solitude was interrupted mid-day by a guard, who pointed at Bethany. "Come," he ordered in English, stepping back to allow her to exit. He led her through the halls, stopping at a door. Here was a familiar face: Charon, nee Dr. Daniel Jackson.

"Afternoon, Mrs. DeCoursey," he said politely, with that smile she hated. "You're looking well." She started to answer him, but he quickly said, "Don't talk to him at all, unless I tell you to. Address me only. If you look at him, be afraid, and look away quickly. Kneel and keep as low as you can." The doors opened, revealing a massive throne room. "Remember what I told you."

Children flocked around the room, some working, but most looked like ornamentation. The throne at the end of the room was empty, but Bethany knew that wouldn't last long. From behind the throne, she saw movement, and Charon hissed, "Down!" and clapped a heavy hand on her shoulder. He was already bowing his head deeply.

[z006]

Bethany took a quick stock of the situation, and realizing that she was in the presence of at least one of the leaders of these strange invaders, she followed the advice of her native guide and dropped to a knee and bowed her head respectfully to whoever it was she was about to meet. She didn't know if that was the best bow for this, but if Charon wasn't on a knee and the kids were practically worshiping this whoever. So, between diplomacy and pride, she chose the middle path. Honor and respect. She hoped.

[z-Servant of Ra]

The middle path wasn't good enough. The jackal-headed guard stepped forward and swung his staff, knocking her leg out from under her. With a yelp, Bethany was knocked onto her face. When she tried to get up, a boot pressed into the back of her neck. "Ke'i!" the jackal-armored man snarled.

"He just told you to kneel," Charon said, his expression indifferent. "That means all the way down, like the children. That is Lord Ra, Lord of all the suns of the galaxy. You really should kneel, and do so quickly."

[z006]

"I can't do much of anything with his boot on my neck," she snapped back, her patience finally wearing through. It was true, though; with the large man's metal-clad foot on her neck, Bethany was lucky to still be breathing.

Charon watched her for a moment, his lips twitched up in just the faintest of smirks, and then said something in the choppy and quick language of the invaders. The jackal-armored man hesitated and then pulled his foot off of her, but kept his staff ready for another blow if she continued her blasphemy. Bethany pulled herself upright enough to sit on her knees, head bowed and shoulders tensed while she waited to see if this was acceptable to her mercurial captors. Jackal-head grunted, but Charon said nothing and the anticipated blow never came.

The world had not stood still during the little spat and Bethany could sense a presence on the throne now. A voice boomed from it, deep and oddly modulated as if several people were speaking at once. Charon stepped forward, bowed deeply, and responded. Bethany was a fair hand at languages and spoke several herself, but this was unlike anything she'd heard before. She nearly missed her own name in rapid conversation, but shortly thereafter Jackal-head grabbed her roughly by the arm and drug her up to her feet.

She could see the figure on the throne now, a slender and dark-skinned person wearing a golden mask over their face. As she was thrust forward by the guard, the figure stood and began to pace around her curiously; she had the image of a stalking cat in her mind, but her instincts told her this was a much more dangerous predator. He began asking Charon questions; Bethany could tell mostly because Charon started asking her questions.

“Your husband is important to your world? A ruler?”

“He is a Senator of the United States of America.”

“He rules?”

“Our government is ruled by the people, and he is an elected representative of them.”

“What is your age?”

“Pardon?”

Charon frowned at her and the Jackal tensed behind her.

“What is your age?”

“Thirty two.”

“Do you have any medical conditions? Deformities?”

“What? Why do you care?”

Charon sighed and ‘Ra’ removed his mask to peer intently at the woman who was nearly of a height with him. He looks like a teen! Bethany stared back at him, wondering what kind of culture would put a child on a throne. A feudal one, which makes sense given what I’ve seen. Great. Earth’s been invaded by teenage aliens. His eyes flashed the way she’d Charon’s eyes flash and she fought her instincts to not scramble away from him. Scary, teenage aliens.

Charon’s voice came from far away, penetrating her primitive fear, “My Lord Ra wishes to know if you are fit to serve him.”

Thankfully the youth began circling her again, breaking eye their eye contact and giving the Senator’s wife a sort of reprieve. Nervously she asked, “Serve him how?”

She could feel Charon’s smirk. “As Daniel now serves Lord Ra and the Goa’uld.”

“What do you-”

“Kree!”

The boy’s voice boomed out unexpectedly and guards in the room snapped to an even tighter attention. Ra paced back to his throne and settled on it, eyeing her and Charon with a haughty but petulant look. Charon stepped forward and nearly prostrated before the throne, speaking quickly and reverently. He’s afraid of the boy. Can their society really be this…primitive? Ra cut him off after a moment of groveling and spoke slowly and clearly, as if he thought Charon were just a bit stupid. Bethany was able to follow the general pattern of the language, even if she couldn’t understand him. She did manage to catch another name: Persephone.

The boy-king finished his explanation and snapped out a series of orders in his language; Bethany found herself being drug out of the room by a Jackal-headed guard in less ornate armor than the one that had stepped on her neck. Her last sight of the throne room was of Charon, bowing low to the boy and nodding before following her and the guard out. She was marched back towards the cell, but before she could be shoved back inside, Charon waved the guard away from her. He leaned over her, catching her chin and tilting her face up towards his; she kept her confusion out of her expression, but he could feel her tense at his touch.

His smirk was the closest to a genuine smile she’d seen on him, and it sent that same thrill of fear down her spine that Ra’s glowing eyes had. “Not her usual look, but then she’s never really had a choice,” he murmured, “has she?”

Bethany’s brow furrowed, “What-?”

He turned away abruptly and said something to guard, who nodded crisply and grabbed her arm again, but more gently than he had before. The door to the cell was opened and Bethany was essentially shooed inside.

************************

The banker with the black eye was taken next. While he was gone, Bethany told François about her ‘interview’ with Ra and they puzzled over the clues in what she’d heard and seen. She didn’t tell him about the last bit with Charon; something about it was still making her blood run cold. She hoped it was just paranoia. Edward was brought back after about an hour, sporting another black eye and bruised ribs.

They took François then, and Bethany was left to mind the children. They were getting restless now and asking where their mother was; they wanted to go home. Bethany kept them as calm as she could and prayed for François’ interrogation to simply be as confusing as her had been, instead of as painful as it seemed Edward’s had been. Thankfully, François was only gone for about twenty minutes. The problem came when the guard ordered the children out of the cell. Alone.

François refused, his arms protectively around his family. The guard gestured at the two children again, and when François did not release them, several of the jackal-guards stormed into the room. The children were picked up bodily and pulled out of the cell while François was held down by two enemy soldiers. Even after they’d left, François was at the door, pounding on it and yelling. After ten minutes, he was hoarse, after thirty his voice was nearly gone and bruises were already forming on the sides of his fists.

It was an hour before the guards returned to take the blond woman. The children weren’t with them.

[z-Servant of Ra]

François was beside himself. He stalked their room, growling obscenities in French and occasionally punching the wall. All entreaties to calm himself were met with thirty seconds of fuming, false calmness. It was clear to all that the man would not be calm.

The time dragged on, and François only became more enraged as time passed. The blond woman didn't return either, which made their long ordeal seem worse. The banker finally curled up in a corner and tried putting his jacket over his head, as if he wanted to shut François out. Perhaps that was his reason.

Food was brought, and François jumped the guards, demanding his children. They shot him with a strange gun that knocked him to the floor. Bethany feared the worst, but when she knelt at this side, she found him unconscious. He regained comprehension soon, in seconds, but his mood wasn't improved. He ate little food, continuing to stomp around.

The next time the guards came, it was to take the banker. He wasn't returned either. François finally collapsed, falling into an uneasy sleep. Bethany heard him murmuring for his family from time to time.

Her thoughts turned to her own husband and daughter. She wondered if they were safe, and soon found herself praying for them. She prayed for Devon next, hoping that her friend had kept his head down and out of trouble. That prayer widened to include Yseult and François, and their children. Christian and Narinder received her blessing. Slowly, step-by-step, she included other people she knew, asking God to keep them safe. She passed the time by dredging her memories for names and faces, putting them under God's protection.

At some point, she fell asleep as well, huddled under her jacket, a whispered prayer still on her lips.

She woke up when the guards came for them again.

[z006]

She gently shook François awake, figuring that it would be a kinder wake-up than he'd get from the guards. They were standing, Bethany holding François' hand as much to try to keep him calm as to reassure herself, when the door was opened. Sleep hadn't done much for either of them other than to remind them when they woke up that they were in two-day old clothing now and neither had had a chance to bathe.

She squeezed François' hand and waited for the guards.