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Title: X is for Xenocide
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Genre: gen, pre-series
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters: Bra'tac
Words: 375
Summary: Bra'tac became First Prime to help his people, but sometimes he wonders.
Author’s notes: For [livejournal.com profile] sg_fignewton 's Alphabet Soup. Originally posted on livejournal Jun. 25th, 2012.



And let it be known that the heathens were given a chance to repent of their ways and acknowledge their true god and did not. Therefore their faces will be forever scoured from the universe. For the glory of Apophis.


Bra'tac's mother smelled of incense and cooking spice. She was strong, and proud, and she believed with all of her heart that Apophis was her god. It was one of the few things she and his father disagreed on.


The day you were born,” she would tell him, “I had a dream. I saw you grown into a man; a skilled warrior. You stood in Apophis' highest favour and he poured blessings down upon our family. I have never doubted this would be so, my son.”

Bra'tac never forgot his father's teachings; carefully worded stories that showed the gods as fallible, arrogant and cruel. But sometimes. Sometimes, when the other trainees spoke excitedly of the glorious battles awaiting them. When he stood with his peers and was accepted into the ranks of Aphophis' soldiers and his mother looked on with unconcealed pride. Sometimes, he wanted her to be right.

-------------------------------- ~ ** ~ --------------------------------

They were a stocky species, with skin a light pink colour that Bra'tac had never seen before and never would again. They guided their children away from the Jaffa and they spoke with caution and reserve. Their city was beautiful; buildings set in stone and marked with colour and patterns. They would trade, they said. But they would not serve and they would not acknowledge Apophis as god.

He told them that refusing meant death. It didn't matter.


For his victory in battle Bra'tac was awarded the title of First Prime. He knelt before Apophis and he did not scream when the gold was seared into his forehead. It was what he'd wanted. It was where he'd do the most good. But as he looked back at the chappa'ai and remembered the bodies he'd stepped over to get there and the satisfaction in Apophis' face when he came back victorious, he remembered his mother's dream. And he wondered who he was truly helping more: his people or the man who sat in his gold throne and pretended to be their god.


 

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