Mutants & Masterminds: StarGate Freedom - [Fic] A Great Day for Freedom [complete]

[Caesar]

The forest was quiet, sunlight filtered through the upper canopy of leaves to dapple the floor of the forest in spots of warm orange light. Kor crept along the trunk of the downed tree. In his hand a short spear bearing a crude metal head stayed level to his eyes. Ahead of him his father, Tok Ska Nat, moved in a slow crouch, a sharpened flint spike in each hand. Tok Ska Nat stopped and peered over the thick trunk, across the sunlight spotted clearing was a scrofa, a pig like creature with shaggy wool-like hair that was prized among the Unas in the cold weather months. Kor stretched but he could only barely see over the tree trunk; even as large as he was for his age he was still nowhere near his father's size.

Tok looked at his son, and suppressed a grunted laugh. Tok hefted one of the stone spikes and took aim on the scrofa. His arm snapped forward and the spike flashed through the air burying itself deep in the animal's neck. The scrofa bucked and started to flee into the forest when Kor's spear with the metal head flew and pierced the creature in the side causing it to stumble. Once down it flailed but was unable to rise. Tok Ska Nat was already crossing the distance, he approached the beast carefully, wary of the serrated tusks. He caught it around the neck and with a jerk of his thick muscles he snapped its neck.

Kor wrenched his spear, and the flint spike, from the animal's side, his pointed teeth bared in a fierce grin. The young Unas was proud of himself, he had proven his worth. The older Unas also grinned, but behind the pride he felt he knew he would someday have to banish or fight his son, Kor would not be content until he was a Zo. Using their claws the two Unas disemboweled the scrofa and cleaned the innards from the carcass. Stringing it up across a branch they carried the beast back to the clan's cave together, Kor had earned his right to do so.

[Caesar]

The green stick branch bounced and swayed under the weight of the scrofa as the Unas trudged through the forest back to their home. Kor followed behind his father, the haunches of their kill swinging before him. Kor's father stopped short, "Shesh," he growled. Kor, stopped and looked around wondering why they had halted. Tok lowered his end of the burden down as he pulled a spike into his hand. Kor crouched by the kill, short spear at the ready, still not seeing or hearing what had caused his father to stop. A flash of blue light brought Kor to his knees, magic flowing over his body, a sound unlike any he knew followed it as his body was wracked with pain.

Tok's arm swept through the air, the spike slicing out silently. Flint shattered on a solid metal breastplate, showering the Jaffa with flakes and shards of bone. Another blast of magic, blue fire and a sound like angry bees. Tok stumbled to one knee, as the two Unas were surrounded by half a dozen men in armor consisting of a skirted cuirass and an enclosed helmet. Four carried strange bent sticks and the other two long staves or spears. Kor looked up at the strangers in amazement, they wore metal in such amounts as his entire tribe has never seen.

Tok threw himself at one of the metal clad warriors, his clawed hands lashing out and finding the gap between the chest plate and the low edge of the helm. Blood, hot and red, sprayed out as the warrior tumbled boneless to the ground. Another blast of that magic blue fire dropped Tok to his knees even as Kor swung his spear in a long low arc. The thick shaft of the weapon connected with the leg joint of their enemy and with a sound like no other the joint crumpled in a direction it was never meant to. The warriors tumbled but managed to catch himself on the staff. The other warrior leveled his staff at the older Unas. Stunned and in pain Tok deigned not to give in, with grunted effort he lunged for another warrior even as the magic fire coursed over his body. A flash of true fire lanced from the staff like weapon and sent Tok falling onto his back, a smoking wound in his chest. The other warrior, now done on one knee spun his staff over his head and brought the blunt end down on Kor's head.

Darkness and pain gave way to unconsciousness.

[Caesar]

Symmetry is a bitch.

Unconsciousness gave way to darkness and pain.

The darkness gave way to a fuzzy sort of light and vision. There was a sense of movement; the metal clad creatures, with their fire staves and their magic zig zagging sticks, were carrying Kor somewhere. There was one at each arm, pulling him, his heels dragging behind. As the pain faded he became aware of the shackles on his arms and legs. He could see the shackles on his ankles with the chain between them, the slack dragging in the dirt behind him as he was pulled to wherever they were taking him. His wrists were bound behind him but he could feel the chain and the metal.

His hearing had come back fuzzy but was clearing as well and he could hear strange sounds. He recognized them dimly. Kor craned his head around, the first actual movement he'd tried since waking. His neck wasn't pleased but he could see that they metal beings had taken him to the great ring. He recognized the sound of the magic mushroom that stood before the ring like a sentry. There were strange symbols on the mushroom that glowed when pressed. The elders would have disapproved of his knowing this, or even having come here, but Kor had been interested in the strange mushroom because it was made of metal. One of the metal men was pressing the buttons he them pressed the great red bulge in the center of the mushroom's cap and it too glowed. The ring made a hideous sound and water poured forth from it. Kor's eyes grew wide, some manner of sorcery held the water in the ring like a great standing puddle or lake.

The metal men began to move toward the lake dragging their injured member and Kor with them. Aware that he would drown Kor began to struggle violently. He managed to free himself but was still disoriented and shackled. On the ground, his hands bound behind him, he found himself slow to rise to his feet, slow enough that the Onac could bring their magic weapons to bear on him with ease. Blue fire erupted around him and he fell onto his face, unconsciousness claimed him once more before they could drag him into the ring of water.

[Caesar]

The metal clad being pointed its magic spear at his father and fire erupted from the end engulfing the older Unas. Kor watched helplessly as his father fell backwards a smoking hole of ruin in hi chest, the stink of charred flesh already in the air.

Kor awoke screaming in pain and impotent rage. He was lying on cold damp stone; the air was cool, humid with the dank wetness of a deep natural cave. He tried to sit up and found that despite the magic used on him he had no pain, no injury. The room was neither cave nor natural; the walls and floor were formed of rock, yes, but cunningly worked into square shapes and stacked like fallen trees to form the room. The mouth of the false cave was blocked by metal branches woven into a thicket by some foul sorcery. Kor was amazed at how much metal there was and at the craft involved in the creation of the thicket. He turned to the back of the “cave” and found that fresher air and dim moonlight came through a hole in the rock wall that was likewise barred with metal that seemed grown from the very rock. The night sky above was not what he expected; not one moon tinged a reddish orange but two moons, one blue and green and the other white and brilliant in the sky.

Kor recalled the great ring, the magic vortex of water. The metalites had transported them via magic through the water to this place; Kor knew not how but he could think of no other explanation but sorcery. He turned his attention to his imprisonment and found dishes with water and some kind of meat near the metal thicket. He found that he was both hungry and thirsty and quickly emptied both of the bowls before inspecting them themselves. The bowls were carved of wood, much like those used in his own tribe, but of a craftsmanship that Kor had not seen, there were no signs of tool marks, the surfaces were smooth and clean as though the grain, visible to his eye, had been coaxed into a surface like ice. More magic; Kor’s hope for escape faltered, if these beings could use magic for something as trivial as a food bowl then he would stand no chance against them. He sat down in the corner and pulled his legs to his chest, he would not give up hope but he would have to be truly cunning to escape from this place, and so he set his mind to the task in the hope that one day he might find and exploit some weakness or fault.