13: The Line
by chaos_eternus
"We've completed analysis of the debris from the recon platform Colt and Stardust stumbled over,"
Peters winced as she glanced up from her paperwork, sparing a brief moment of pity for the two pilots in question, both of whom had been caught looking in the wrong direction when a nuke went off. Neither would fly again, Colt's eyesight would never be what it was and Stardust's was simply flash-fried. He would never see again at all.
A job hazard maybe, but a nasty one, but then again, this was the reason that one of the simplest and most effective pieces of advice given to pilots about flying in the area of nuclear explosions, other then 'don't' was keep one eye closed. That way if you did lose one eye to the bright flash you at least still had the other to keep you flying.
And hey, didn't the Mythbusters cover something very similar to that once?
"It was definitely a biomechanoid."
"Cylon?" she asked sharply.
"Certainly Cylon technologies were included in its construction but the tech boys are doubtful. They're thinking Goa'uld."
"Anubis," technically, that was a name but she knew the way she spat it out made it sound far more like a curse and in many ways, it was.
"Most likely," came the reply, "but analysis is difficult, the platform was thoroughly demolished by the self-destruct. In total, we've only got about twelve kilos of debris to analyse and the sensor records from the two Vipers. "
"How long had the platform been out there?"
Peters didn't fail to notice the hesitation before the response, and that alone told her she wasn't going to like the answer even before the tech spoke again.
"We don't know. The gun-camera records from the Vipers do indicate it had been out there long enough to be struck at least once but that could have happened within minutes of it being placed or even years."
Peters considered this for a moment. She knew the politicians would, rightly, demand answers and a solution to the discovery of a stealthed recon platform so close to Earth, but it was in the gulf between stars. It had only been stumbled across by sheer luck and the utter volume of space in the gulf made an effective search impossible. She could have patrols increased as long ranged sweeps were unlikely to pick up such a small object but they would have to be very lucky to pick up any more of the platforms and she was willing to bet there were more.
At the same time, increasing such patrols would increase the wear and tear on the precious few fighters and patrol boats she had available for such tasks, increasing maintenance costs and putting them out of position should another attack occur.
On the other hand… such platforms did have to be placed and occasionally maintained and they had to be using ships for that; ships which had to be capable of getting close to the Sol system undetected and that was a worry in itself.
It could just be Al-kesh or a modified Tel'tac but it could also mean Ha'taks or something nastier. Either way, she didn't want their support ships or the platforms themselves in her skies.
She glanced up at the tech and nodded, "dismissed,"
For better or worse, she would need to increase fighter patrols in the gulf though she suspected it wouldn't make a difference. A few stealthy platforms of there own might be of more use and for that; she needed to speak to General Carter.
A siren screaming in your ear was not the way to be woken up.
Of course, it didn't help that he had only actually gotten to sleep a mere hour ago, figures that the boys would want to jump the gun on the scheduled drills but they could have warned him first.
It was his station after all.
Grumbling he darted out of the bed, his hands already diving for his uniform.
He would have to have words, at his age; he damned well needed his beauty sleep!
Then he froze, years of living aboard his station letting him know exactly what that rumble through the bulkheads meant. Hang on… a live fire exercise was scheduled.
"All squadrons scramble! Scramble! Scramble! General to the bridge! Battlestations! Battlestations! No shitting!"
'No shitting?' that's not exactly military phrasing… least not the official military phrasing. It wasn't as if he could honestly say he had never said exactly the same thing over the PA after all.
Still, not a drill.
D'oh!
With a grimace, O'Neill grabbed his shoes and his uniform shirt and dived out of his quarters. He would just have to dress on the way.
"It wasn't a serious attack then,"
O'Neill grimaced, nodding his agreement, "No, they didn't come in enough strength for that and they stayed well away from my station."
Thompson snorted at that, "I can hardly blame them. Breeching the defences of Ravenbright would take firepower then we believe Anubis can divert at the moment, but still, that simultaneous probes in three of our systems."
"Three?"
"Edonia reports they successfully fended of an attack but Illustrious got a little dinged in the process. We're rushing through a supply run with a set of spare barrels for the main guns now, we also got a hit here but they run straight into the 5th Patrolcraft squadron. Our guys were opening fire before the three Ha'taks had even dropped out of hyperspace. Two of them skipped straight back out and the third took a salvo right in the breadbasket."
The General frowned, "Didn't even know the th was operational."
"They weren't, but with a confirmed kill under their belts they are now even if the squadron is still under strength."
"Good, still need more though."
Thompson snorted, "We can always do with more. The trick is managing with what you have, which reminds me, the Eisenhower class is now the Washington class. I don't know who dropped the ball there in the naming committee but given we already have an Eisenhower… "
"Right, now all we need is a Subtlety or a Hornet. "
The Admiral cracked a smile at that, "one day you are going to have to tell me how you got Subtlety past the committee. Still, the Washington class is now a highly probable, the Subtlety and the Hornet are both not yet's and the Lancer III is being prototyped. There is also a push ongoing for a Prometheus III and a Dauntless III and the Airheads look set for complete replacement."
O'Neill snorted, "Geeks are busy."
"So am I, trying to get funding for even half of that. You Americans seem to be focusing on the Cape with the surface construction facilities underway there for the small craft and the satellites, we're focused on Gaia along with a half-dozen other nations. I'm just worried that once the current batch of construction starts to be pushed out of their slips that there wont be funding in place for the next generation."
"Ironic," O'Neill noted, "once it was Britain that stole the show by grabbing all the infrastructure, now it's us who are sinking the most money into it."
Thompson shrugged, "we succeeded in our primary goal, ensuring no one nation controlled space and the technologies we have learnt or taken from the other races. The fact that it placed us into one of the senior positions within the hierarchy was a major bonus that helped sell it to the brass. Frankly, whilst we gained a poll position for a while, we always knew we were never going to keep it. When America turns her mind to do something, the resources, money and energy that can be brought to bear still put almost every other single nation to shame."
"There are those in your government who would do well to remember that,"
Thompson's eyes narrowed, "and equally, there are those in yours who would do equally well to remember that 'ally' doesn't equate to 'slave' or that American doesn't have a divine right to control space."
O'Neill grimaced but didn't argue the point, "the nationalist ticket is pretty strong at the moment,"
"That's reactionary and you know it," he shrugged, "still, they are a minority, albeit a visible and quite troublesome one but it doesn't help us with our primary concern; These raids."
The General frowned then shook his head, "I'm not convinced they're mere raids."
Thompson raised a speculative eyebrow, "go on."
He tried not to look uncomfortable but failed, "my gut says they're a prelude, simple information gathering."
"The Free Jaffa and Tok'ra spy rings have not reported a major movement of ships towards our positions or even a marshalling of supplies in readiness."
"I know," O'Neill shook his head unhappily, "but Anubis is arrogant but not always stupid. If he thought we were watching out for a concerted movement…"
"He wouldn't make one, he would simply slip one or two ships out of everyone of his fleets and order them to a rendezvous or maybe ever several," Thompson shrugged, "we put every movement report we receive into the computers and there are both programs and people monitoring for that kind of pattern amongst others."
"I know."
"But you're still worried," it wasn't a question. The Admiral whistled, shaking his head slowly as he considered the implications, "if it were anyone else… but you still have more direct experience with Anubis then anyone else we have."
The General shrugged, still uncomfortable but unwilling to ignore his gut, it had saved his life too many times.
"Alright," Thompson noted after a few moments, "what do we do about it?"
"Peters has already ordered patrols in the area stepped up," O'Neill noted, "Those worlds in the area with gates are already checked on a regular basis. This may be one for intelligence."
Thompson snorted with the typical mild contempt of a military officer for the Intelligence services, "well, I will have a word but without something firm…"
"What about the cutting-out crews?"
"The last three attempts have been failures, ambushes," the Admiral shrugged, "I believe Davis has ordered the attempts abandoned for the moment."
"A few more Ha'taks wouldn't hurt,"
"I know but all they managed to grab was Tel'tacs and Al-kesh. Useful but not Ha'taks. "
"Perhaps," the General replied with a glint in his eyes, "they just need to be a bit more inventive…"
"You have an idea?"
O'Neill nodded and Thompson smiled, "perhaps we should get Davis in on this…"