trans_9 | Sobek the Immortal [Closed]

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Sobek the Immortal [Closed]

Planet Designation: Kalimba Status: Terrestrial, H-class.
Non-sentient life: Extensive flora and fauna.
Semi-Sentient Life: Unknown
Sentient Life: Ruins and step pyramids suggest the presence of intelligent life at some point. Currently: Unknown.
Water: 70.2% of the planet's surface. Heavy rainfall/monsoons.
Climate: Earth-like.
Landscape: Primarily jungle and swamp, some plains, severe arctic conditions in northern and southern poles.
Air: Type I (breathable)
Sky: Blue-green.
Warnings: Medium to high levels of megafauna. Watch your step. Conditions in the atmosphere make several forms of orbital scans and equipment unreliable.
Mission: Archaeological investigation of step pyramids and ruins, investigate for signs of source of abnormal energy signature in target area.

The first thing the group would notice was that Kalimba's air was humid and heavy, with a light breeze. The morning had long since burned off most of the mist, and in the distance, clouds lazily drifted onwards towards the horizon. The typhoon season was a long ways off.

The undergrowth was tangled and dense, seemingly impassable in places. Vibrant flowers and vines took up residence where some of the tree cover faltered. With limited sunlight available, it was every plant for themselves. Disturbed by the archaeology group, "birds", each easily half the size of a person and more salamander than avian suddenly took to the air in a flash of brilliantly colored wings. They were gone almost instantly, slicing through the air and leaving only the ear-splitting shriek behind.

The hill sloped down. The cover of trees broke as they came out onto the stone remains of path that must have once been heavily used. Now, just like everywhere else, massive roots and tanglers tore at the ground, slowly swallowing any signs of civilization back within itself. There were trees of all shapes and sizes as far as the eye could see, a rolling wave of jungle and rainforest. Tan and dirty gray step pyramids, all more massive than those found on Earth, and the occasional obelisk rose through the canopy cover like claws, dotting the landscape.

Stac's scans indicated much of the planet was covered in these structures, with the largest in this location. Aside from the archaeological mission, her scans also indicated the presence of an abnormal power that may be of interest.

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The System Lord took a step to the side when something ran ice cold up and down the length of him. It was the sting by something new, foreign, and not entirely pleasant. He'd been around humans long enough to feel difference between a human,a Jaffa, and Goa'uld from a long distance. He could feel how they all occupied space, the reality they all lived in. His head swiveled instantly to the source.

Feeling the difference between a human and something completely new wasn't exactly hard when it offended the senses. His eyes landed on the Doctor and John Smith. It was coming from them. Sobek stepped closer to John, head sliding to the right like he was feeling for a current of air. These two were something he'd never encountered. The symbiote wrapped around Daniel's spine tightened further, shifting minutely away from them in response. These two were both there and not there, something that made him want to wipe them out and restore the order int he room.

He didn't know what it meant. Sobek had encountered a lot over his thousands of years. Never this.

Sobek reached down and sank his claws into the front of John's clothes, careless if he scored flesh with the metal, and ripped the front off, then pressed his palm against his chest.

Two different heartbeats.

Edited 2012-01-17 09:35 (UTC)

The Master couldn't help sucking in a sharp breath as those talons pierced him-- not one for delicacy, this Sobek. If it had happened to anyone else he might have been once again impressed, amused even. But as the shirt came off, ripping just a bit of the Master with it, he felt nothing but pain, and then irritation at the thought of yet another suit to replace.

And, though he was loathe to admit it even to himself, the tiniest pang of fear.

Blood dripped slowly onto the floor.

"I told you," he hissed between gritted teeth. "They mean nothing to me."

As he spoke the Master reached out telepathically through the skin-to-skin contact, more surreptitious than brutal, poking around the edges. He wanted to see what this thing was really made of.

Even though it was tiny, Sobek picked up on the fear, a drop of blood in the waters. His nostrils flared. He could smell the iron and something else strange about the blood, but after the amount Eva left and the bits and pieces of Eneesh all over the throne room, his senses were already taken up by the heavier smells.

Sobek kept his hand against the man's chest, fingers curling slowly, raking tracks in the skin. An abnormal heartbeat. War drums of old. Much like the drums his people on Faiyum had been so fond of. One of things that his slaves here had never perfected. Sobek's fingers continued to dig in. Touching the man was like touching something that was an abomination in reality. Existing and bending the area and senses around them. Not just John Smith but the Doctor too.

New. Never before encountered in any Goa'uld. He could use these two.

The God withdrew his hand. Despite the adverse reaction, Sobek's face was neutral, unreadable, whereas before he'd oozed feral superiority, arrogance and grace. John's standing with him suddenly wasn't as clear as before.

He drooped forward slightly when Sobek finally let go, letting out a small, weak cry that disgusted even him. It wasn't just from the pain. It was just as much from the withdrawal. How he'd felt when his mind touched Sobek's. Old, so very old. And so very, very hungry. A multitude of mouths to feed, an almost grotesque excess of power. The desire to control.

Some of these things, the Master understood intimately. The rest twisted his gut. Reminded him of things he'd rather forget.

Still, he seemed to have struck this thing speechless. Though it took a moment for the Master to raise his head, he did, steeling himself enough to stare Sobek down calmly. As if he hadn't just been gouged in the chest.

"Well?" he said. "Anything else you desperately need to know?"

Sobek returned the stare, his own unfathomable. Not a human like his host had thought. The same alien race as the Doctor, connected to him and affecting reality and time by existing together. Both of them had tried to cover the fact up or make light of it. They must be aware of how they felt to a higher species. There must be a reason they each tried to downplay it to his host. To him. Perhaps there could be a use. The ability to bend reality and time to his will...

He would see if this affect was deliberate or a biological byproduct.

"You may yet prove yourself useful," Sobek said. As if John was just now hitting the possibility of saving his life.

Edited 2012-01-18 23:10 (UTC)

The Master grinned self-assuredly at that proclamation, mostly in the Doctor's direction. But a substantial part of him was relieved when Sobek drew away, his attention diverted by the others. He watched impassively as Eva was tortured, his face a blank mask. Though he did arch his eyebrows in an "I told you so" kind of way once the parasite was finished with her. He wouldn't have been so messy about it. So... brutish. Not with Eva, anyhow. She hadn't done nearly enough to warrant that sort of special attention.

When the Doctor was harmed, though... The Master could feel bile rising in his throat and his hearts hammering, even as he rolled his eyes. What did the idiot think was going to happen? He never did know when to shut up, never did have proper priorities.

Sobek looked on at the Doctor's collapse with as much concern or care as taking out an insect, all the while keeping an eye on John's reaction. Interesting. More of a reaction to the Doctor's fate than to Eva's, but considering the tirade the man had made to his host earlier on, maybe not so unexpected. This man did care, for good or ill.

It could be used.

The guards surrounded Smith and indicated he get to his feet. Quickly.

The Master did his best to appear calm and collected at first. He'd been given the opportunity, at least, to wash up-- not the hot bath he'd been hoping for, but a tiny basin in a communal area, stinking of the others he'd been thrown in here with. It was a start. And the plant suit had already grown back over his chest, repairing itself and relentlessly cleaning the periodic bloodstains that spotted it. The wounds were superficial.

But there was still the withdrawal to contend with, his chest and head still ached. The drums beat on. And he was bored. After a while even resting on his mat with his hands behind his head, imagining with some glee what may be happening to the Doctor right at this moment, was simply not enough.

He paced his tiny sleeping area like a caged animal, tapping his fingers against the walls while he thought, and watching the guards intently.

The Master was left to his own devices, but the view outside would show the frenzy of activity from the humans. Now that the celebrations were over, it was all business. What they're doing was still unclear.

The slaves in these quarters made no attempt to approach the Master. They merely tolerated him with barely concealed envy, muttering amongst themselves in Goa'uld and shooting glances over their shoulders. Whatever his duties or expectations were, there wasn't any effort to help the newcomer.

Two guards finally arrived at the quarters, the lead's voice voice rumbling through small room. It was one of the Jaffa who had been present at their capture. One by one the slaves filed out until they found their God standing outside the slave quarters, waiting with the same patience one shows a dog that came when beckoned. Once at his feet, they knelt. Row after row heads bowed, touching the ground.

Frigid eyes looked to the Master. Would he kneel like the others?

Edited 2012-01-20 23:42 (UTC)

The Master may have originally balked when forced to kneel in front of Sobek. The very idea might have gone against nearly every fiber of his being. But he wasn't stupid; he'd seen what had happened to the insectoid.

And he'd done much, much worse in the name of survival.

Still, he wasn't about to prostrate himself slavishly like a kicked dog. Not like these others. The Master met Sobek's eyes, striding forward and shoving his way through the rows of followers until he'd just passed the first, nearly toe to toe with the false god.

Only then did he kneel, his head bowed deferentially. Sobek would learn that the Master was worth more than a thousand slaves. Perhaps all of them.

Sobek's eyes flickered for a moment with displeasure before settling back to blue. The man had prostrated himself like the others in the end, but not before making a show of it, something that indicated he still clung to pride. Sobek didn't completely erase it from his worshipers. There was pride in there, the kind that had them competing for seconds of his attention. It was the pride that was channeled in his favor.

The System Lord said something in Goa'uld to the slaves. They wasted no time. All bowed, and then rising, hurried off. It left Smith alone with the two Jaffa and Sobek towering over him. The System Lord made no indication that Smith should get up. The stone underneath their feet was cold and rough, and smelled faintly of moisture and plant life from outside.

"You will attend to whatever your God desires." Sobek said. "Prove yourself useful and live. Prove yourself anything less and your Master will have no use for your existence."

Edited 2012-01-21 16:48 (UTC)

He could feel the vibrations in the hard ground as the slaves flocked en masse wherever Sobek had ordered them to go, like frightened pigeons. The Master kept his head bowed dutifully, but there was a small, tolerant smile on his face hidden from his captors. Alone at last.

"And what do you desire now, my Master?" The words tasted undeniably sour to him, of course; he was the Master, not this grubby little parasite bonded to a fool's body. But he'd topple Sobek from his throne soon enough. Baby steps.

Sobek's fingers flexed, the gold end caps of the hand device rippling in the field of Smith's vision. The movement was lazy and unconscious, more a minor outlet of energy and strength while the God thought it over. He didn't trust Smith with the same task he sent the slaves on. The message had gone out: the entire population of the planet was to work on the closest step pyramid, and the ha'tak that lay underneath. His fleet was massive. It would rise again, but restoring his fleet would take time. Thousands of years spent grounded, with little maintenance, made it impossible to carry out his Will just yet. Restoring his fleet, even if it meant working themselves to death for their God, was work only meant for those who could he knew were of his faith.

The crocodile helmet materialized and folded upwards then sealed in on itself in the sharp clang of metal. Mechanical eyes rotated away from Smith.

"You will follow." Sobek said and turning, led the way out.

The Master clambered to his feet, eager despite the dull, full-body ache he was apparently developing. He'd felt the power emanating from Sobek's hand, and he coveted it as he did all means of control. It was almost enough to keep the drums at bay-- just barely. They raged quietly in the back of his mind, anticipating.

For the moment he was as easily led as a hunting dog.

The Jaffa kept to the Master's back, a constant reminder that he was still hadn't earned any of the trust any other lowly slave was shown. Sobek led the way downwards. He set a loping pace down the corridors and halls, pacing through chambers without a second's hesitation.

The doors stood apart from the rest of the structure, more metal than stone, with seams and lines that made up the decorations glowing with an artificial light. The doors seemed to sense the Goa'uld presence as Sobek drew close. With a rumble and grind of hidden mechanisms, they parted before the God like water, sliding out and then upwards into the ceiling. The doors slid closed behind them.

The room they stepped into was easily the most technologically advanced so far. There was an entire squad of Jaffa nestled in alcoves like statues, the only sign that they were alive was the rise and fall of their chest and the helmets that tracked the Master.

There was also a strange device that occupied the middle of the room. The Doctor was strapped to it.

A "rest period". Supposedly that was what it was. The Doctor didn't for one second think Sobek had suddenly grown a few bones of mercy in that parasite's body of his.

The Doctor looked like he'd seen better days, his hair limp with sweat as he caught his breath where he was restrained to the interrogation device. He cracked open his eyes as he caught the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside. Sobek, probably. And...someone else. Too light to sound like s/he was wearing that armor the Jaffa were so fond of stuffing themselves into! So, someone else. Either one of his worshippers or -- and this was probably the worst case scenario -- one of the crew, probably to soften him up so he'd be more talkative. The Doctor prepared himself to tell Sobek to turn right around and find something else, licking his lips and trying to work the dryness from his mouth.

So far he didn't think he'd revealed anything particularly world-shattering.

The Doctor's head lolled against the back of the device as he tried to see the archway. Today wouldn't be any different, he wanted to tell the God. Come back tomorrow, although tomorrow will be more of the same, so maybe you better get on with it. Whatever words he had died as Sobek entered, that crocodile's helmet swiveling toward him, and there was...

Ah. Awkward. The Master.

The Doctor suddenly felt like he was on the wrong foot here (not that he was on a foot, but anyway), blinking and trying to clear his head and shoot the Master one of those what're you planning now? looks.

At the moment, the Master was caught as off guard as the Doctor. Of all the things he'd expected Sobek to lead him toward, it hadn't been this.

Amusement and disgust, and not a small bit of excitement, warred in him. But he took in the room with a careful, studied eye, paying especial attention of course to the device in the middle and its current occupant... and then smiled slowly.

Well, he'd been wondering what the Doctor had been up to. It was almost too perfect, really. He just hoped Sobek hadn't brought him here to discover the best way to kill a Time Lord, because he had no intention of sharing that information. For obvious reasons: the Master quite liked being alive himself.

"Has he yielded anything useful?" he asked Sobek, his eyes not straying from the Doctor's deliciously tortured visage.

Sobek stepped further into the room, the trail of rich cloth the only high point of color in the room, aside from the eerie glow of machinery and green and yellow lights. "Mind your place, slave. What use he is to me is not your concern. Your only concern is the desire to serve your God."

Neither the Doctor nor Smith had expected each other. Clearly. Smith, Sobek was convinced, knew the Doctor more intimately than he let on, had even lost control when it came to talking about him in front of his host long ago. Daniel watched the two through their eyes. Even he wasn't sure what Smith would do or what he meant to the other man. He did know what Sobek had in mind. It didn't meant well for either of them, even if Smith succeeded.

The crocodile's stylized metal face remained pointed towards the machinery, eyes burning, but inside Sobek was watching their reactions, Smiths' especially, that split second before anyone could control themselves.

"This is your first task. Prove your faith."

Edited 2012-01-24 07:48 (UTC)

The Doctor tried to focus past the haze to the Master’s face. He had one of those looks of his; hungry, wanting more and more like he always did because that was the sort of man he was, despite all the chances to be something better. His vision swam. The Doctor tried to blink it back into focus, thinking he might have it in him to start rambling again – it took him by surprise to realize that no, he didn’t, and in fact whatever energy he had left might be put to better use trying to do his part in all this than word games. Not that he didn't like word games. Time and place and both time/place today were...not good.

Besides, he had feeling he knew what Sobek meant by “proof”.

He didn’t doubt that the Master could do it. Enslave a few planets here and there, amongst other things, and this was really quite a small thing. But he hoped the Master would at least not leak silly things like Gallifreyan technology or their long, boringly deadly history to a beast like this God.

For once the Doctor didn't start rambling about anything under the sun. Instead his eyes just slid from Sobek to the Master, fixing on the other Time Lord and for a moment there was a flicker of that old spark, almost as if he was challenging the Master to do the right thing.

What the "right thing" was, well. Bit of a gray area there. In that plan turning into Plan thing, hopefully.

The Master did hesitate, just a bit. But it wasn't a loss of nerve; instead, he slid a look toward Sobek, his eyebrows raised in slight surprise, like a dog who wasn't sure the bone he'd been given was really his.

It was only a glance, though, before he moved over to the machine decisively and began inspecting the controls, nodding with approval and pointedly ignoring the Doctor's looks. It didn't take him long, of course, to puzzle out how it worked. Soon his fingers were dancing over those controls.

He did look up, eyes meeting the Doctor's, mouth twisting up in a smirk and the drums thundering in anticipation, as he entered the final command into the machine. He didn't want to miss a single second of this.

The hesitation did not go unnoticed. The crocodile helmet's servos whirred as the face plate swiveled and focused down at Smith. The metal face nor glowing eyes offered any sign of what he should, could do, much less whether this was a trick or not. There was no hint encouragement for him. Smith stepped forwarded and considered the machine while several eyes burned against his back.

Given time, Smith figured out the very basic controls. Better, he figured out what his task was. Now it only took the entry of the command to take the first step towards showing himself faithful. The System Lord had made sure that Smith didn't have access to anything sensitive or anything that would kill the Doctor. He would not waste his God's time trying to conduct an interrogation.

This was merely a demonstration, to prove himself, to both his God and to his former crew where he stood.

For the Doctor, several things happened at once. Something metal and slimy, like a slug, pressed right against his temples and a metal cord coiled around his neck. The first began to produce a high pitched sound against the side of his head, growing increasingly painful. While the noise grew, what might have been a pleasant warmth from the coils began to grow, burning hotter and hotter.

The Doctor had time to meet the Master's smirk, his eyes lifting, before this round started.

He choked on his gasp as the plug against his head squealed at a frequency that felt like it was tailored to making a Time Lord's brain boil inside his skull, the coil around his neck burning as he tried to spasm away and found that it was all rather difficult when you were effectively tied down. The Doctor jerked against the restraints. Agony coursed through him starting from his head and working his way down to his toes and then right back up again because apparently this was a round-trip marathon and no one had the courtesy to tell him anything.

It took him a long while to realize that eventually the machine had shut off, perhaps on a timer. Perhaps Sobek had enough time to start getting it through that helm that Time Lords were different and that he needed to adjust his approach.

The Doctor coughed, chest heaving as he opened his eyes, struggling to breathe as his hearts fluttered. Head hurt. Thinking hurt and while that was normally a good thing because it meant he'd actually been given a challenge, this...probably wasn't one of those times. Right. The Master and Sobek. He was just starting to remember where he was, his limbs trembling as he tried to get his body under control.

He might need more than a moment to find his voice again, his hair slicked down with sweat as he tried to make sure his brain hadn't liquified. It hadn't, right?

The Master watched it all, not flinching, but actually leaning forward, reveling in the Doctor's discomfort with avid eyes. It was clear to anyone observing him that this was not about 'serving his God'. This was personal. This was a vendetta appeased, at least in part.

The whole process was making him feel so much better-- watching the Doctor writhe in clear agony, helpless to stop the assault on the senses. But it was over far too soon, and the Master reached for the controls again, eagerly. Not even giving the Doctor a moment to collect himself.

Sobek watched the display without twitching a muscle, standing as still as the very guards lining the room and showing just as much emotion. The Doctor's suffering was just another occurrence in a long line of agony he'd seen in his life time, another mortal, and too bloodless, not nearly enough stoke the urge to rend and tear. But this wasn't about the Doctor this time or getting information.

The Doctor had proved resilient to this point. A simple procedure such as this would not get him to talk. Kill him maybe. Enough stimuli and he could stop both of those hearts. Sobek remained unconcerned. Death was not something a God needed to concern themselves, not when they had the ability to control life and death. What the God noticed was Smith's reaction to his test.

Smith's getting off on it, Daniel thought. Daniel watched alongside the System Lord with something like surprise and then disgust. Daniel may not have been as experienced with sadism in its purest form before Sobek. Now he was. Intimately. He saw it playing out in their minds constantly, daydreams, glories of the past, plans for the future, all violent and reveling in the gore, but that was a Goa'uld for you, and an old one at that. Seeing it so blatantly on another crew member's face wasn't something the vessel expected. Sobek's mouth twisted with displeasure behind the mask.

The slave wasn't doing this for his God's sake. He even reached for the controls, as if his God had given him permission to do so.

The guards that came in with Sobek and Smith stepped forward and swung their staff weapons at the back of Smith's knees, intending to stop him and bring him kneeling to the ground, show him that was where he belonged.

And the Master 'obeyed', falling to his knees with a soft grunt. He swung his head around to stare at Sobek and for a split second it wasn't just surprise on his face but rage. The sort of rage a small child might express when a favorite toy was taken from him. All too quickly it slid away, replaced by a simpering smile.

"Of course. My apologies."

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Sobek the Immortal [Closed]

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