Title: E is for Elegance Fandom: Stargate: SG-1 Rating: G Warnings: none Word Count: 2,331 Written For: Bra'tac Alphabet Soup AN: did you know that the Gateworld encyclopedia spells "kel'no'reem" as "kelnorim"? Summary: The opposite of crude.
Bra'tac was in his third decade when he noticed it for the first time. Old enough to have experience; young enough to still be under a master's care, responsible only for his own actions and with no greater cares than survival to distract him. Old enough to understand what was happening beyond his own small corner of the battle, and young enough to be idealistic about it.
That delicate state did not last long, and he later came to realize it was as well he had seen it then, for he could not have earlier and would almost certainly not have later. But when he had seen thirty-four summers, he saw it, and it was the beginning of many things no one could have foreseen.
His lord and God Apophis was attacking Sokar's domain, in retaliation for a battle lost and in hopes of gaining control of the planet which was the main source of a certain rare type of fabric that was very valuable. Bra'tac did not know what the fabric was called, for it was too expensive for Jaffa or for slaves, and besides, it was enough that Apophis wanted it.
There were no ha'tak in orbit, though there were many Jaffa on the surface guarding Sokar's planet and the slaves who produced the fabric. Ha'tak were expensive; Jaffa were not. Apophis' Ha'tak arrived unheralded, surprising Sokar's Jaffa. It landed on a mountain near the main city (where Sokar's own ships no doubt landed) and disgorged its horde of Jaffa, Bra'tac among them.
In full armor, staff in hand, Bra'tac jogged towards the city, where he could see Sokar's Jaffa gathering against them. Above his head, death gliders wheeled and fought, but he paid them no mind. Awe-inspiring they might be—and his master had promised that he would learn how to fly them some day—but they were only a distraction in battle.
Bra'tac knew how the battle would go, for it would be like every other he had fought in, every other he had heard of. Apophis had landed his Jaffa. Sokar's Jaffa came out to meet them, and the two great armies would meet on a field. The stronger army would win.
This was all Bra'tac knew of war, and all his Master had ever said of it. Yet, as he ran towards the enemy Jaffa as he had done many times before, it occurred to Bra'tac that perhaps there might be some better way to fight. After all, he knew well that in a battle between individuals, skill and cunning could be more decisive than size and strength—surely, the same held true in battle between armies? He shook his head. A battle was no time for thinking, not if one wished to survive.
After the battle, when his friends had set his leg and bound his wounds—for he had been grievously injured—the thought came to him again. He tried to ignore it, for if there was some better way Apophis would know it and would already use it. The very idea that Apophis might have missed something was blasphemy! Besides, while Bra'tac knew much of skirmishes, he knew little of large battles besides his own role in them. So he could not imagine what better way there might be, and comforted himself that he could not imagine it because it did not exist, and Apophis knew it.
E is for Elegance
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2,331
Written For: Bra'tac Alphabet Soup
AN: did you know that the Gateworld encyclopedia spells "kel'no'reem" as "kelnorim"?
Summary: The opposite of crude.
Bra'tac was in his third decade when he noticed it for the first time. Old enough to have experience; young enough to still be under a master's care, responsible only for his own actions and with no greater cares than survival to distract him. Old enough to understand what was happening beyond his own small corner of the battle, and young enough to be idealistic about it.
That delicate state did not last long, and he later came to realize it was as well he had seen it then, for he could not have earlier and would almost certainly not have later. But when he had seen thirty-four summers, he saw it, and it was the beginning of many things no one could have foreseen.
His lord and God Apophis was attacking Sokar's domain, in retaliation for a battle lost and in hopes of gaining control of the planet which was the main source of a certain rare type of fabric that was very valuable. Bra'tac did not know what the fabric was called, for it was too expensive for Jaffa or for slaves, and besides, it was enough that Apophis wanted it.
There were no ha'tak in orbit, though there were many Jaffa on the surface guarding Sokar's planet and the slaves who produced the fabric. Ha'tak were expensive; Jaffa were not. Apophis' Ha'tak arrived unheralded, surprising Sokar's Jaffa. It landed on a mountain near the main city (where Sokar's own ships no doubt landed) and disgorged its horde of Jaffa, Bra'tac among them.
In full armor, staff in hand, Bra'tac jogged towards the city, where he could see Sokar's Jaffa gathering against them. Above his head, death gliders wheeled and fought, but he paid them no mind. Awe-inspiring they might be—and his master had promised that he would learn how to fly them some day—but they were only a distraction in battle.
Bra'tac knew how the battle would go, for it would be like every other he had fought in, every other he had heard of. Apophis had landed his Jaffa. Sokar's Jaffa came out to meet them, and the two great armies would meet on a field. The stronger army would win.
This was all Bra'tac knew of war, and all his Master had ever said of it. Yet, as he ran towards the enemy Jaffa as he had done many times before, it occurred to Bra'tac that perhaps there might be some better way to fight. After all, he knew well that in a battle between individuals, skill and cunning could be more decisive than size and strength—surely, the same held true in battle between armies? He shook his head. A battle was no time for thinking, not if one wished to survive.
After the battle, when his friends had set his leg and bound his wounds—for he had been grievously injured—the thought came to him again. He tried to ignore it, for if there was some better way Apophis would know it and would already use it. The very idea that Apophis might have missed something was blasphemy! Besides, while Bra'tac knew much of skirmishes, he knew little of large battles besides his own role in them. So he could not imagine what better way there might be, and comforted himself that he could not imagine it because it did not exist, and Apophis knew it.
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