Sorry of the long time between updates but FFXIII is really, REALLY addictive. I've had some writers block too, especially when it comes to chapter five so I decided to skip it for the moment. As it is you can still appreciate the first part of chapter six without it and I hope to get it finished soon, at which point I will of course upload it. I know how waiting for a new chapter can be torture sometimes. Anyway enjoy.
Chapter Six – Zero Hour Part One
Conference Room
May 6, 2004
Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain
General O'Neill was having a bad day. His base was being overrun by a plant that just wouldn't die, two alien ambassadors were locked in a VIP suite trying their best not to kill each other, Walter and his new 'administrative assistant' Mark Gilmour were trying their best to bury him in paper-work and some psychotic son-of-a-bitch had just made off with one of their captured Tel'tak cargo ships from Area 51 six days ago, prompting a whole new security crackdown at all SGC affiliated facilities world-wide.
Still all that was nothing when compared to the most recent crisis. Ba'al was claiming to have captured SG-1 and had demanded the return of the turn-coat System Lord Camulus in exchange for their lives. Needless to say this had come at a bad time, although there wasn't ever a really good time for your best friends to be captured by a megalomaniac. So he did what any good leader did in a situation like his: called a meeting.
"So the question is, what do we do," declared O'Neill to the group of officers before him.
"Well we could trade Camulus for their return," began Colonel Reynolds, "but any exchange would have to take place at a neutral location. We can't risk opening the Stargate in case it's a trap."
"What about a rescue," suggestion Major Paul Davis, the SGC's Pentagon liaison.
"No good. We don't have any idea where they are," replied Agent Richard Vickers, the SGC's Director of Intelligence and an active member of the CIA. "The Tok'ra haven't exactly been all that helpful over the past few months and the Jaffa are, with a few exceptions, becoming more and more arrogant and less helpful as the days go by."
"May I ask something," interrupted Colonel Elias McNulty, head of the first and only currently operational Off-World Combat Brigade, "why are we even considering negotiating with this bastard?" he began, ignoring the looks of surprise that spread across the faces of most of the assembled personnel. "Don't get me wrong. I respect SG-1 and their accomplishments and I don't like the concept of leaving anyone to fend for themselves. But there is no real evidence that Ba'al has them, aside from an Al'kesh on a scouting mission and a bit of melodramatic over acting on the part of the bastard himself."
"What are you suggesting," asked O'Neill, a thoughtful look crossing his features.
"Look, we don't negotiate with terrorists if it doesn't get us what we want. That has been stated US policy for years. And regardless of the scale, terrorists are exactly what the Goa'uld are. Granted that their rule by terror has been institutionalized and their technology is a lot better than some radical chauvinist bastard living in a cave in Pakistan and wielding a Kalashnikov, but a terrorist is a terrorist no matter what his species. And you don't appease monsters; you hunt them down and kick their asses."
"What are you proposing?" asked Reynolds, clearly not used to such an aggressive attitude.
"We use the Saratoga and launch an invasion of one of Ba'al's worlds. Make sure the target is important enough that even the threat of its loss would convince Ba'al to return SG-1. He won't believe us of course so we go ahead and invade the place. Then when he realizes just how far he's up shit creek and just how far away his paddle really is, we make the demand for SG-1's release again in exchange for us not nuking the place until it glows. If, and I stress if, he indeed does have them then he'll let them go of face the consequences, followed by another and another strike until he smartens up. If he doesn't have them then it's not a risk to their lives and it'll show the entire galaxy that Earth is not a planet to be fucked with."
"The Saratoga isn't ready yet," replied Davis. "We've repaired the damage and installed the new systems but she's still missing most of her weapons array. At the moment she only has her GARDIAN system and one-sixth of her secondary batteries. No Thanix cannons, no missile launchers and no torpedoes."
"I'm not saying we use her as a battleship. In fact if everything goes as planned, the most she might use her weapons for is some orbit to ground support fire, nothing more."
"What about a target?" asked O'Neill, warming up to the idea.
"Erebus," replied the Colonel, looks of shock covering the faces of almost everyone present.
"Are you out of your fucking mind," exclaimed Reynolds before he could stop himself. "That place is a fortress."
"I don't understand," said Mark Gilmour, who'd been silent up to this point.
"Erebus is a planet located within Ba'al's territory, near what used to be his border with Anubis," replied O'Neill after a moment. "We launched an operation against the planet to liberate the Jaffa being used as slave labor about a year ago. The planet at the time served as a major mining and ship building facility. Unfortunately because of how close reinforcements were, we were only able to liberate the planet and get the hell out of dodge, not completely destroy the place."
"Since then, the planet has become one of the most important worlds within Ba'al's domain," continued Agent Vickers. "Not only has he replaced the anti-gravity dry dock destroyed in the raid, but he's expanded the facilities drastically. The planet is now home to eighteen dry docks, representing over sixty percent of Ba'al's known capital shipbuilding capacity. There are also factories that produce most of his Death Gliders, Al'kesh, Tel'tak, small arms, armor and the components for all of the above. For all intents and purposes, Erebus is the industrial center of Ba'al's territory making it as important as his capitol Dakara and Tartarus where he makes his Kull warriors."
"And it's heavily defended as well, despite the fact that the planet lies over nine-hundred light-years from the front lines with the other system lords," added Davis. "Two Ha'tak and twelve orbital defense platforms guard it from space, an estimated forty-thousand Jaffa and two-thousand Kull, hundreds of staff cannon emplacements and towers, dozens of Al'kesh and Gliders on ready alert at all times, a gate shield and even some form of anti-air defense turrets, or so our intel suggests."
"So how do you plan to get around that," Reynolds asked McNulty point blank.
"We blitz them. Look at the moment we have a major tactical advantage in that the Goa'uld don't really know our true capabilities. Up until now, we have only engaged the Goa'uld with small infantry formations, a few dozen people at most. They won't be ready for faster than light capable fighters, armor, artillery, helicopters, air support or a brigade sized force equipped as mine is."
"You want to pull a Pearl Harbor," replied O'Neill with a grin.
"Followed by an amphibious invasion, yes sir. We hit them with our 302Bs before they can respond and then we land and invade. While we've been able to equip my entire brigade with the new armor and small arms from the Normandy, we don't have any of the new vehicles like the Hammerhead hover tanks or the Mantis gunships because of the lack of element zero. So instead we've modified our own vehicles as an intern solution until our deep space mining operations get going. We've got thirty seven M1A3 Abrams Main Battle Tanks, fifty nine M2A4 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicles, fifty three M1126A1 Stryker Armored Personnel Carriers and seventy four Humvees modified with trinium/naquadah armor, naquadah reactors, electric motors and in the case of the Abrams; shields. We've also added new weapons to make them even more effective using the tech you guys have access to."
"What about air support?" asked O'Neill, clearly liking what he was hearing.
"Twenty nine AH-1WA1 SuperCobras, twenty four AH-64DA1 Apache Longbows and forty UH-60MA1 Black Hawks, all upgraded with naq reactors, electric engines, trinium/naquadah armor and shields. As for artillery, I've appropriated one hundred M109 Paladins and forty M270 MLRSs equipped with naq reactors and electric motors. No armor upgrades but they shouldn't get into close combat anyway. I've also managed to get my hands on five of the new MQ-9 Reapers and twelve MQ-1 Predator UAVs for battlefield surveillance and tactical strikes. We've modified the Saratoga's electromagnetic to launch them. Once we land and secure the ground around the ship, I'll have a bunch of bulldozers level a stretch of land for them to land on. Believe me, forty-thousand Jaffa will be nothing when compared to the forces we can bring to bear."
"I like it," declared O'Neill as he closed his folder. "The question is how long will it take to plan the attack and get it all together? Ba'al has left us with a rather small timeline."
"On my own authority I ordered by brigade to begin loading the Saratoga approximately four hours ago. Needless to say Colonel Emerson will not be sending me a Christmas card this year," replied McNulty with a grin, laughter circling the room. Having one's ship invaded by Marines and Army soldiers was not conducive to an orderly and stress-free day. "All equipment should be on board and secured for transit within another twenty hours. With her new hyperdrive it's a four hour trip to Erebus so we should be in position in approximately twenty four hours. I'd like to give my people some time to rest before launching the attack so realistically thirty hours. As for the planning well…"
"We don't have enough intel to set out anything but broad objectives and strategies," concluded O'Neill with a slight frown. "So what else is new?"
"Yes sir."
"Very well, under my authority as commander of the SGC, I'm authorizing the mission. Also, contact the Tok'ra and ask them to send an observer or two. If they've been getting a little arrogant lately and don't want to be allies anymore then I want them sufficiently frightened by our forces to keep them from doing anything truly stupid. Get to it."
Embarkation Room
Five Hours Later
"Unscheduled off-world activation," announced Walter over the PA.
"Here we go," muttered O'Neill to himself as he entered the massive room. Over the years his opinion of the Tok'ra had diminished to the point where he generally held them only a few steps above a hangnail. Now he was going to have to be nice to some of them. 'The perils of command,' he thought sarcastically.
"We've received the Tok'ra's IDC," announced the freakish little sergeant.
"Open the iris," replied the General, the curved metal barrier sliding open before him. Moments later two people exited the shimmering event horizon, bringing a smile to the cocky general's face. Well maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
"Jacob, how are you…"
"ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?" bellowed the retired general turned pseudo-diplomat/warrior, cutting Jack off. "Are you insane? Have you lost your bloody mind? Erebus? You want to attack fucking Erebus? One of the most heavily defended planets in this entire galaxy. A planet literally swarming with Kull warriors and enough Jaffa to form a decent sized army even here on Earth. That Erebus?"
"Nice to see you too Jacob. Anise, long time no see. How's things?"
"General," began the Tok'ra scientist, shaking her head a little to get the ringing out of her ears from Jacob's rather loud tirade, "it is good to see you again. While I wouldn't have put it quite the same way as Jacob, I have to agree. Attacking Erebus is… inadvisable."
"Yes well, we're doing it anyway."
"Jack, I seriously hope this is just a joke. Because it's a good one," sighed Jacob, having seemingly deflated as his anger reduced itself to a simmer.
"No joke. And yes we're aware of the disposition of Ba'al's forces. And quite frankly that shouldn't be a problem."
"Well unless you're planning to march a brigade though the gate, after somehow bringing down its shield; I don't see how you have a hope in hell of succeeding."
"Funny you should mention that," replied Jack with an almost feral grin. "Follow me."
The three quickly left the gate room; the marines on security having heard the retired general's explosion giving them a wide berth. As they approached the elevator, Anise began her interrogation of the general, hoping it would lead to some answers.
"The High Council received word of Anubis' attack on you planet, his defeat and the subsequent treaty you signed with the System Lords. Needless to say they were more than a little unhappy."
"Yes, well they can kiss my ass," replied Jack evenly as the three entered the elevator car. "The Tok'ra seem to forget that we're not their vassals. We will do what's in our best interests including signing a treaty with the devil himself if it suits us. Besides, I doubt the treaty will survive more than a few years at the most. In the meantime we don't have to worry about those posturing egomaniacs sniping at us while we take care of Ba'al."
"And then what," asked Jacob, torn between his loyalties, something that had begun to isolate himself and Selmak from the rest of the Tok'ra leadership.
"By then we'll have the forces to deal with the Goa'uld once and for all," replied Jack indifferently, the intimation he was making sending a shiver up Anise's spine. Perhaps the Tok'ra had badly underestimated Earth after all, a fact that Jacob and Selmak had been preaching for six years. The threesome exited the elevator and approached a blast door with a pair of marines on either side it full combat gear.
"What do you have in there; sasquatch?" asked Jacob with a smirk.
"No, it's the SGC's new ring room. Seems a good idea to make sure its heavily armored and defended at all times."
"We are traveling to a vessel in orbit," questioned Anise.
"No, Groom Lake."
"Area 51? How do you plan to do that? The curvature of the Earth should prevent a direct trip."
"We'll bounce off one of the new ArkLight satellites."
"ArkLight?" asked Anise, the scientist in her curious at the system.
"We designed the system in conjunction with the Asgard, now that the protected planets treaty is essentially null and void. Each serves as a relay for both ring and their own transporter systems. Hell, you can actually mix and match as well, converting one into another. Makes getting around a hell of a lot easier."
"How are you planning to keep them secret?" asked Jacob. A beam of light routinely shooting into the sky from Cheyenne Mountain was not an easy thing to overlook.
"Why bother? The public already knows about them."
"YOU DISCOLOSED THE STARGATE? HOLY…" bellowed Jacob, the transport field cutting him off.
"Yes Jacob. We kind of had to do that, what with us detonating about a hundred gigatons of nuclear ordinance over Southern California and all. Oh and welcome to Area 51," continued Jack. The constant eruptions from his friend didn't really bother him anymore, not after having to deal with every politician in the Stargate Alliance trying to stick their grubby hands into his business every six seconds.
"Oh my god. How are things going?"
"Not too well but not too badly. Most of the civil disturbances in the industrialized world have settled down and the markets have rebounded. But it's certainly divided the world, more so than before. The US is now the leading power of the newly formed Stargate Alliance along with Canada, the United Kingdom, Ireland, Iceland, Germany, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, South Korea, Israel and Taiwan. The French are doing their normal go-it-alone thing, froggy bastards. India is on the fence hoping to take advantage of the new tech without actually committing any resources; both the Russians and the Chinese are doing their level best to get in everyone's way. Hell they've both tried to blackmail the US into giving them our ships at least twice, each. And the Middle East is going universally nuts as expected."
"To what ships are you referring…," asked Anise a second before they stepped out into the blazing sun. "Oh."
Before them stood a procession of five Ha'tak motherships, personnel and ground vehicles swarming the nearest of the quintet as it sat quietly on the dry land into which their new landing gear imbedded itself. Already she could make out some fairly major changes on the closest, not the least of which was the US Air Force roundels emblazoned on his hull.
"May I present the USS Saratoga, the first of the Saratoga refit motherships. Behind her you can see the USS Enterprise, USS Scryer, USS Hibernia and the HMCS Hudson."
"You captured five Ha'tak during the battle," asked Jacob, clearly impressed by what he saw before him, even if most of them looked like they'd been though an asteroid storm without their shields; massive rips in their hull near what used to be their weapon turrets.
"Eight actually. The remaining three are undamaged and in orbit as sentries; the HMS Britannia, JDS Kusari and the FGS Rhineland. As we complete the refits, we'll rotate the remaining Anubis refits down here and put the Saratogas in orbit. As for the Scryer and Hibernia, they're being converted into deep-space mining and refinery vessels for use in high radiation systems."
"For what purpose," asked Anise. Surely they could acquire enough materials through planet-based mining operations.
"Element zero production," replied O'Neill, not really answering her question at all. "Ah, I'd like to introduce you to Colonel Paul Emerson, captain of the Saratoga.
"Pleased to meet you both," replied the Colonel, shaking both Tok'ra's hands before turning to his commanding officer. "And general seriously; captain? Sounds like a demotion."
"Get over it. Well I'll leave you in the Colonel's capable hands. I have some riveting paper-work to get back to. See ya."
"Well, would you like a tour?" asked the Colonel shaking his head at his CO's antics.
"That'd be great," replied Jacob as the three made their way towards the massive vessel. "I see you've made some changes."
"Had to. When we got her she looked a lot like the other four. Her entire weapon's array overloaded during the battle causing an explosive decompression throughout the entire vessel. We were barely able to land her before her engines gave out and needless to say we've spent the past three months repairing and upgrading her."
"I can certainly see that," replied Jacob with a low whistle, "although how the hell did her entire armament overload. The computer fail safes should have prevented that."
"Not if the computer was being invaded and overridden at the time," replied the Colonel with a grin at the disbelieving looks the two returned to that little comment. "New tech we got from some friends. We've managed to repair the damage and upgrade most of the systems. As you can see the only real work left to be done is fitting her out with her remaining weapons."
"Not to be a pessimist but how are we going to attack a system lord with an unarmed ship?"
"Well we have our GARDIAN pulse lasers and hopefully by the time we take off we should have twelve of our secondary batteries. That said if all goes according to plan, we won't actually engage the orbital forces, our fighters will handle that."
"I see," replied Anise, not really understanding what was going on. Military tactics had never been her area of expertise although a glimmer of comprehension was beginning to spread across Jacob's face. "I can see some major changes to the central pyramid."
"Yeah, we've essentially sealed the bottom up and made it solid. Can't use the landing platforms anymore but that's what the new landing gear is for. And it has increased cargo space by more than three times. We've got roll-on/roll-off ramps as you can see for vehicles, the electromagnetic catapults have been repurposed for launching drones and the large hanger bays in the supporting ring that used to be for Tel'taks are now for launching and recovering helicopters and future VTOLs. Most of it is configured to support current tech instead of the new stuff we're getting somewhere down the line."
"Ok, I'm beginning to see why Jack was so confident," commented Jacob with a grin as the three began walking up one of the massive ramps leading to the lowest level of the ship.
"I don't understand…," began Anise before she came face to face with a massive… thing; a lot of massive things all lined up in neat rows. They were some sort of machines with treads like she'd seen on some of the small robot probes the Tau'ri used. It had a huge triangular cannon coming out of a large squat turret and was armored with the same material Goa'uld motherships used. And it looked like it could crush a small house without stopping. "What… what is this thing?" she stuttered as she began backing away and turning to her two escorts.
"This is an M1A3 Abrams Main Battle Tank." replied the voice of a man whose head popped out of said machine's hatch, "Next generation design specifically created for use off-world. Colonel Elias McNulty, Commander of Off-World Combat Brigade Alpha at your service."
"Pleased to meet you," replied Jacob, shaking the man's hand and immediately assessing the person before him. What he saw was impressive enough. Fifty something, black hair with the occasional grey strand thrown in. Weathered face and the scar across his chin showed that he'd seen combat before and his general demeanor just screamed army.
"It's an honor," replied Elias with a grin. "The famous General Jacob Carter. Damned brave thing you did, what with the whole 'ambassador to the Tok'ra' thing and all."
"If I hadn't I'd be dead right now. It seemed like a good decision at the time."
"And now?"
"I'll never regret blending with Selmak. Never. But let's just say things are not the way they were six years ago," replied the old general with a tired sigh. The Tok'ra were changing as the Goa'uld's influence and power became increasingly diminished. And neither of them liked the direction they were headed in, Selmak especially.
It was funny, thought the symbiote. Before his blending with Jacob, he'd have been happy with the new direction the Tok'ra were heading in. However after having seen the memories of his current host; the lifetime of wars and tragedies that defined Earth in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, he was beginning to see patterns emerging within the Tok'ra leadership's attitudes and actions. And the only things that such hatred, arrogance and bigotry brought about were pain and sorrow. Not that he'd share those thoughts with the others lest they move to isolate him further. It was one of the reasons Jacob did most of the talking these days.
"Well why don't we continue the tour," interjected Emerson after a moment, the awkwardness permeating the air between the four.
"Yes, I think that would be a good idea," replied Anise. Officially she'd been sent as a scientific observer by the High Council. There was a growing distrust of the Tau'ri among their ranks. The human world was becoming major player in galactic politics and they wanted insights into the new technologies their 'allies' were beginning to deploy, technologies that were believed to have been responsible for their almost casual defeat of Anubis. Unofficially she was to keep an eye on Jacob on the orders of Gershaw of Belote herself. There was increasing worry about the attitudes displayed by both Selmak and his host.
"Then if you'll follow me," said Emerson as he began moving towards large column in the center of the now sealed room, what Anise recognized as the core of the ship itself. The threesome entered a small room that she recognized as an elevator, apparently a primary form of transportation for the Tau'ri. However it was not the room that caught her attention but the control next to the door.
"Holographics," commented Anise with some surprise. Everything she'd seen about the Tau'ri indicated that they did not have that technology.
"Yes. Never needs to be cleaned, never gets shattered. Never freezes into uselessness if exposed to vacuum," commented Emerson with a grin before tapping the appropriate destination, his finger apparently encountering some resistance when it contacted the image.
"Impressive. Even the Goa'uld haven't managed to create even slightly tangible holograms."
"Well this isn't Goa'uld tech," the Colonel replied as the doors shut. The three traveled in silence for a moment before the doors opened again. The three exited and crossed a corridor, surprisingly different from what they'd seen of Goa'uld vessels before. Gone were the golden, slanted walls and mesh overlays and there wasn't a brazier in sight. In fact the entire corridor looked as if it belonged on another ship, not a Goa'uld Ha'tak.
The corridors were ovoid in appearance, the walls made of square blocks of a grayish metal that Jacob recognized as highly refined Trinium. LED pot lights recessed into the ceiling provided most of the illumination although it was slightly darker than what he was used to on Goa'uld vessels. At regular intervals along the corridor, orange holograms displayed a myriad of data ranging from internal schematics to system diagnostics, presumably related to whatever systems ran behind the walls. Overall it looked extremely futuristic.
"What happened here?" asked Jacob after the three finished taking in the sight.
"The damage was quite extensive and the modifications we made quite significant. In the end we decided to completely overhaul the ship's internals and bring them up to something more to our liking. I think it might have had something to do with the fact that people were getting headaches from looking at the golden walls. In reality, the only thing original about this ship it its sub light engines, space frame and a few other minor systems all of which have been heavily modified. Everything else is either Asgard, System's Alliance, Cerberus or Earth tech."
"I'm not familiar with either the System's Alliance or Cerberus," commented Anise.
"It's a very long story. Let's just continue with the tour," replied Emerson. Clearly these humans were hiding something.
The three crossed the corridor to a set of heavy blast doors. If Anise was correct about their location, they were right outside where one of the three Death Glider bays would be. The doors, which were almost a half meter thick, parted and they were certainly not disappointed by the sight before them. Like the vehicle bay below them, most of the massive bay before them had once been exposed to space, empty except for when the ship would land on a pyramid platform. Now it was home to a large number of black fighter craft. However as Anise looked around, it quickly became apparent that the bay was only perhaps one third full, the yellow marked pads on the floor showing where numerous craft were missing.
The fighters were interesting as well. Clearly a design based upon the Goa'uld Death Glider, these were almost twice the size and more angular. In addition they had a pair of boxy protrusions merged into their inner wings, the purposes of which were unknown to the Tok'ra scientist. They were covered in a grey/yellow material that almost seemed to sparkle under the banks of lighting hanging from the ceiling. She could make out two small, stubby cannons on the outsides of their wing protrusions and as she watched, a series of robotic arms appeared from hatches in the floor and began attaching cylindrical objects to a series of points along the bottoms of the fighter's wings, points which had just emerged from a series of small hatches.
The thoughts were interrupted by a long, low whistle from Jacob. "Damn, they're beauties alright."
Emerson smiled at that, and Anise could almost make out the testosterone flowing from the two men. "The F-302B Scimitar Air and Space Superiority Fighter. The first generation of true space-borne fighters to be constructed on Earth."
"Damn, they look deadly. Think I could take one for a spin?" asked Jacob, his eyes never leaving their deadly forms.
"Probably not," replied Emerson with a frown. "Even I'm not qualified on them yet. They use a new holographic interface and it's pretty weird until you get used to it. In the meantime we only have thirty three of these beasts until we can get our deep space mining operations online."
That was the second time Anise had heard that comment. "Surely you have enough naquadah and trinium to produce more."
"Sure, and actually there are another forty seven waiting at Lockheed Martin's plant at Fort Worth, Texas. But without more Element Zero to produce their mass effect cores they're about as maneuverable as a B-1B Lancer. No artificial gravity, anti-gravity, inertial dampening, mass reduction, kinetic barriers or FTL. And they sure as hell can't escape a planet's gravity well unassisted. So at the moment they just sit and wait."
It took a moment for Anise to process that information before her face lit up. "They have shields and hyperdrives?" she asked incredulously.
"Yes and no. Yes they do have shields, but they also have a secondary system called a Cyclonic Kinetic Barrier that works in tandem with the shields to provide additional protection. But no they don't have a hyperdrive. Though we now have a reactor design powerful enough to run a compact hyperspace window generator without using one of those idiotic naquadria power cells, it was felt that a Mass Effect FTL drive, which would be much, MUCH smaller and more efficient because of the existing presence of the core would be a better option."
That shocked Anise. The Goa'uld had been trying for centuries to create a fighter capable of faster than light travel. They'd even come close several times in the past eight hundred years. However the Tok'ra had always prioritized sabotaging those projects. That the Tau'ri could develop what sounded to her like a completely new form of FTL travel was unbelievable. It also explained their confidence. Such fighters would represent an unprecedented tactical advantage.
"So, should we continue," asked Emerson after a moment.
"Yes…," replied Anise slowly as the three headed back out the door. The council's fears had apparently been well founded.
Stargate Chamber
May 7, 2004
Dakara, Ba'al's Capital
Ba'al was feeling particularly confident today. True, that fool O'Neill hadn't returned Camulus yet but with the lives of his dearest friends hanging in the balance, he was sure he could pressure the human into submission. His only concern was that they might actually discover that he had not actually captured SG-1.
Turning to the Jaffa no duty, the renegade system lord ordered, "Dial the Tau'ri," before stepping onto a platform that would project a holographic version of himself though the Stargate. The great naquadah ring began its grinding spin, the seven chevrons necessary to connect to another planet quickly locking into place. When the wormhole was finally established, Ba'al tapped a few symbols on the small control pedestal attached to the device and the world seemed to shift around him.
When the image cleared, he could clearly make out the barren concrete walls of the facility the humans called the SGC, curiously bathed in green, not white light. The door to his side opened after a minute or so and O'Neill, looking arrogant and condescending as usual strolled into the room.
"Ba'al, sorry to keep you waiting. I was busy taking a little nap," replied O'Neill with a smirk.
"The deadline has passed," replied Ba'al, trying desperately to keep a smile suppressed. He actually found O'Neill to be quite amusing sometimes.
"Yeah look, we're having a little technical difficulty here."
"Are your friends' lives meaningless to you?"
"The question is how much are they worth to you," replied the General, the look on his face becoming considerably darker.
"What are you implying O'Neill," replied Ba'al, the note of concern registering in his mind. The O'Neill he knew was irreverent and used jokes and sarcasm to communicate. There was nothing joking about the way he issued that little threat.
"Are they worth losing your war against the System Lords? Are they worth losing one of your worlds?"
"I find your bluster amusing but also transparent. You do not possess the ability to threaten me in this way. Return the traitor Camulus or your friends will die."
"I don't believe you have them," replied O'Neill bluntly, calling the Goa'uld bluff.
"I do have them, and I promise you they will die a horrible and painful death if you do not obey me," the anger in Ba'al's voice beginning to overtake his calm and detached demeanor. It had been a long time since a mere human had so clearly defied him.
"Maybe but I doubt it. Here's the deal Bocce. Either you return SG-1 immediately or we'll destroy Erebus."
That certainly caught Ba'al off-guard. He knew the Tau'ri had attacked Erebus before but that had been when it was only protected by a few hundred Jaffa. He had made sure that mistake would never be repeated again.
"You don't have the forces. I have…"
"Forty thousand Jaffa, two thousand Kull and fixed defenses," listed O'Neill, the smile on his face becoming darker by the minute. "If I recall correctly, that's a significant percentage of your forces. And if SG-1 isn't returned within five hours, they die; and Erebus will be a radioactive crater. Somehow I doubt you'll be able to repair that kind of damage."
This was certainly getting out of control, thought Ba'al with a mental shudder. He could either continue his bluff or he could admit his deception. However if he did, he was sure that no one would ever take him seriously again and the Tau'ri were certain to make the whole galaxy aware of how they'd humiliated him. The course of action was clear.
"Fine O'Neill. Their deaths are your responsibility. Maybe I'll return their bodies. Maybe," replied the Goa'uld before his hologram disappeared, the Stargate shutting down a moment later.
Turning to his first prime the system lord began barking out orders, "Prepare for an attack on Erebus."
"My lord, what has happened," asked Ta'ror.
"The Tau'ri are preparing an attack on my world. I cannot afford the facilities there to be damaged. See to their safety. Use whatever resources you require."
"Yes my lord. Do we have any information on what they'll be sending?"
"It is possible they salvaged one of Anubis' ships from the fool's attack on their world along with some Death Gliders."
"I understand. I will personally take command of the forces there."
"Good," replied Ba'al as he exited the room before stopping and turning around, "and Ta'ror, I am leaving you entirely in charge of everything on and above Erebus. If that fool Amun gives you any trouble, tell him to contact me personally. Now go. The Tau'ri claim they will attack within five hours."
"Understood my lord," replied Ta'ror with a bow before turning to the Chaapa'ai. He would never allow the heretics to taint his god's world again.
F-302B Scimitar Space Superiority Fighter, Swordsman Prime
Commander Roselyn "Sonic" Igel, CO VFA-32, United States Navy
USS Saratoga Launch Bay, T-Minus Five Minutes to Contact
As she waited for the order to launch; Sonic couldn't help but reflect on the past few months. When the attack on Earth had taken place, her entire squadron had been assigned to the USS Harry S. Truman. They'd been on their way to the Mediterranean to support the forces in Iraq and Afghanistan when they'd been called into a briefing, easily one of the strangest of her life. Basically the CAG had told them to shoot down anything that fired yellow bolts at them and then send them out, barely stopping to wish them good hunting.
Of course they hadn't known what to think until a second star appeared in the heavens, the massive nuclear detonation over Wyoming visible from their patrol path above the Atlantic. Days later the whole world had known the truth and her entire squadron had been reassigned as F-302 pilots. Rather than give the new 'B's to the veterans of the program, her squadron was chosen to be the first, mainly because the new generation 302 was so different to the older model. Better to train them from scratch and so for the past three months they'd learned how to fly in an environment where gravity wasn't a constant, where inertia kept going forever and where there was not an up or down. And she wouldn't trade it for the world.
Now here she was at the vanguard of an invasion of another world. Personally from what she'd heard of them, the Goa'uld deserved whatever they got. Slavery, torture, genocide; it would be a good day when their entire species was a footnote in a history book. For years the people of the SGC had waged a war in secret, their actions unacknowledged and unappreciated. That was about to change.
"Swordsman Prime to all Swordsmen. Report status," she said after triggering her comm.
"Swordsman Two go."
"Swordsman Three ready."
"Swordsman Four ready to rock…," and so it went right until Swordsman sixteen. Their squadron would be split in half for the upcoming space battle, half dealing with the enemy fighters, the other half attached to their brother squadron, the VFA-105 Gunslingers.
"Status confirmed," replied Sonic. Asking for a pre-mission status report was slightly superfluous on the F-302B. If there was a problem that the onboard VI couldn't solve, chances were they weren't getting off the deck. Added to that was the fact that she could access a complete systems diagnostic from any of her squadron on the holographic HUD both projected on the visor of her air-tight helmet and on the canopy around her actually made the pilot's reports completely obsolete. Still, old habits die hard. "Swordsman nine though sixteen, you are under the command of Gunslinger Prime until further notice."
"Confirmed change of command," boomed the voice of Commander Seymour "Teatime" Wordsworth, the commander of the Gunslingers. He and his parents had immigrated to the US when he was only six years old. Still, to this day there was something indefinably 'British' about her colleague, hence his call sign. "I'll take good care of them."
"I'm sure you will Teatime. All Swordsmen, equip for space superiority. We're taking down those gull-winged bastards."
Eight confirmation lights winked on her HUD. "Tas, equip space superiority package delta," she said, talking to her fighter's VI.
"Confirmed," replied the VI, its form appearing on her canopy as the cartoon Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes. 'Hell it even got the voice right,' she thought for about the thousandth time. The concept of being able to hold a conversation with her bird was interesting to say the least. Logically she knew that without him, half the systems on her Scimitar wouldn't work at all and the other half wouldn't even come close to performing to spec. Still it was a little creepy that her fighter was essentially alive.
Below her she could hear the robotic arms attaching the equipment to her fighter. The displays in front of her showed their progress and she found another thing to marvel at. As a rule the fighters didn't mount anything but their built-in cannons when parked for safety reasons. As such their missile load out and heavy weapon had to be loaded before each sortie. An operation that would've taken the better part of a half hour on the Truman took less than a minute on the Saratoga.
"Loading completed," reported Tas after forty nine seconds. "Forward bays equipped with eight SIM-12A Starseeker short range missiles. Internal bays equipped with twelve SIM-122A Startiger medium range missiles. Under wing hard points equipped with ten SIM/P-122A missile pods. Internal weapons bay equipped with RG3A Twin Sword double cannon cylindrical railgun turret. Helium-3 fuel cells at full capacity," the VI listed; a common practice that ensured that the pilot knew exactly what he or she had mounted.
It still amazed her how much ordinance the Scimitar could carry. Between the various bays and pods she had eight short range and fifty two medium range missiles at her disposal, enough to single handedly take out almost half the standard compliment of Death Gliders a Ha'tak carried with missiles alone. Add to that a pair of pulse lasers, her two Thanix cannons and the Twin Sword turret and its eight-hundred rounds of ammunition and she could probably take out over a hundred of the snake carrying bastards before needing to resupply easy.
"Confirmed Tas. Begin start up procedures." Sonic could hear the powerful anti-proton thrusters coming to life around her, the slight vibration that made it though the inertial dampening field providing a comforting link to her old Hornet. A brief wave of what at first appeared to be yellow static washed over her canopy followed moments later by a blue shimmer as first the shields and then the kinetic barriers activated, wrapping her and Tas in two layers of protective energy.
With all systems online, she began taxiing her bird to the nearest runway with the aid of the various holographic indicators that appeared in her path; helpfully displayed by the Saratoga's VI. Though they could take off and land vertically like a Harrier, it had been discovered that the old runway method was more efficient for no other reason than they had greater momentum when exiting the bay, reducing the chances that one of them would hold up the fighter behind. She'd heard that they'd have some sort of catapult system on the new Nautilus Class Battlecruisers that were under construction but for now this system worked well enough. And Sonic sure as hell didn't want to win today's 'hold-up-cup'.
"This is control to all Scimitars," came the voice of the Saratoga's ATCO or Air Traffic Control Officer, Lieutenant Sterns. "We'll be dropping from hyperspace in one minute. Standby to launch."
"Confirmed control," replied Sonic, the adrenalin beginning to fill her veins. "Standing by to launch."
Goa'uld Ha'tak
In Orbit of Erebus
Vi'tor was a young Jaffa but that did not mean he was useless. Having shown proficiency for piloting a Death Glider from a young age, the fifty three year old warrior had earned the respect of many senior Jaffa over the years. Always a disciple of the great god Ba'al, Vi'tor had personally ended the lives of many of his god's enemies.
Still, when word of the Tau'ri's approach to the system was announced to the ship, Vi'tor couldn't suppress a spike of fear from flowing down his spine. Over the past half decade, the Tau'ri had become something of a legend among the Jaffa. Word, whispered for fear of attracting the wrath of the gods, spoke of the Tau'ri's powerful magics, of weapons that could swat Gliders out of the skies with ease. Of their weapons and their fearsome warriors that could leave entire Jaffa companies dead in moments. And of course there was the newest rumor, that they'd slaughtered the fleet Anubis, the most powerful of the gods, had sent against them.
Climbing into his Glider, Vi'tor wondered, for the first time in his career, whether he'd live to see another day. The communicator attached to the side of his head relayed the messages of the Jaffa master commanding the Ha'tak force, the First Prime of Ba'al himself, Master Ta'ror. He couldn't understand why the Tau'ri had dropped out hyperspace in the outer system. Why not simply attack them?
It wouldn't be long before he found out why.
Bridge, USS Saratoga
"Hyperspace jump complete," reported Lieutenant Ricks, the Saratoga's helmsman.
"Good, launch our fighters," ordered Emerson from his chair in the center of the room. Looking much like the Normandy's CIC in terms of architectural style, the bridge of the Saratoga had a more conventional layout with a massive holo-tank towards the back of the room and the various officers' stations near the front. Buried deep within the central pyramid beneath layers of armor, the entire room was shaped like a half sphere, holograms creating the illusion of the room being underneath a great geodesic dome looking out into space, a fact that scared the crap out of Anise before it was explained to her.
"I still do not completely understand your plan," said Anise for about the fifth time. "Why drop out of hyperspace in the outer system instead of closer to your target?"
"You'll see," replied Emerson with a shit-eating smile on his face as he stood and walked to the large chevron shaped holo-tank. The usual systems display of the Saratoga had been replaced by a hologram of the Erebus system. Two red icons appeared in orbit of the second planet indicating the location of their enemy counterparts, twelve smaller icons showing the locations of the orbital weapons platforms and a cloud tiny triangular prisms showing the locations of the enemy Death Gliders, their lack of any formation clear as day.
The icon representing the Saratoga appeared in green and appeared to be breeding small green triangular prisms and cubes of its own; each a Scimitar configured for space superiority or anti-shipping roles respectively.
"Sir," said Lieutenant Sterns from his console nearby, "all fighters launched. Awaiting your go order."
Taping an icon before him, Emerson broadcast his voice to the entire air wing. "This is Colonel Emerson to Swordsmen and Gunslingers. You're clear to proceed. Good hunting and god's speed."
"Rodger that Colonel," replied the voice of Sonic over the comm. "Initializing navlink. FTL in ten…"
The display showed the fighters pulling into a tight formation with the eight swordsmen forming a perfect line in the front; the Gunslingers forming three delta formations behind them. Red lines appeared connecting them together in an intricate network and a large number 5 imposed itself over the formation. It quickly counted down until it hit zero. The formation appeared to streak across the system, a dotted line appearing in its wake. A look of understanding appeared on Anise's face and a single thought crossed her mind, something Jacob had once said.
'They sure do things different downtown.'
Vi'tor was beginning to worry. His instincts were telling him that he was about to be attacked and they'd never failed him before. Throwing his glider into a deep dive, he barely missed being impaled by a small cylindrical object; the projectile passing close enough for its engine to partially melt his forward window. All around him his fellow Jaffa were dying and in moments, his sensor display showed that, of the two-hundred and forty Death Gliders that had made up the fighter screen for the Ha'taks, only forty nine remained.
Searching for targets, as his sensor display was now showing only static; he could just make out a cluster of dark grey enemies arranged in a line. There were eight of them trailing what appeared to be purplish particles from their rears. Throwing his fighter into a wild series of maneuvers, red beams and yellow streaks passing by his canopy at frightening speeds, Vi'tor was almost relieved as the enemy fighters passed by him.
Quickly getting into position behind one of the odd, Death Glider shaped fighters of the Tau'ri, the wreckage of his dead brethren clattering off his canopy like rain, he depressed the trigger sending bolts of the god's wrath at the enemy. The black fighter seemed to change shape slightly and suddenly it dropped away before his fighter, only one of his rounds hitting it, splashing harmlessly off a blue shimmering shield.
Chancing a look at his display, he couldn't believe what he saw. His was the only Death Glider left. Realizing his chances of survival against the Tau'ri nightmare craft were minimal; he pushed his fighter to full speed, diving for Erebus' atmosphere. He had just entered the air when an alarm sounded in his cockpit and a loud bang came from behind him, a massive jolt shaking the small fighter. Pulling back on the control, he realized that he had minimal control of his fighter.
He was going to crash!
"Hey Sonic, you're slipping," came the voice of her wingman over the comm.
"Shut it Bobcat," replied the slightly irate naval aviator. She had to admit, the pilot of the last glider had been pretty good, but he'd been outmatched in technology and skill by more than a fair amount. Switching to the general channel she said, "Teatime, your turn."
"Rodger that," replied the CO of their anti-shipping wing, which was hanging back, out of range of the slowly accelerating enemy warships. "All Gunslingers pick your targets and get ready. Remember, we want to leave their command ship intact until its commander flees to the surface."
Confirmation lights winked on his HUD. Focusing his vision on the other enemy Ha'tak, three lasers in his helmet following his eye movements; he tapped an icon on his control. His target selected, he watched as the networked VIs of his squadron sorted the missiles, assigning enough firepower to more than overwhelm their targets without wasting ammunition. It was a good system, a dynamic ad-hoc network that eliminated the need for an AWACS aircraft.
As if on cue a beam of white light appeared connecting one of the Ha'taks to the planet's surface, a pulse traveling along its length before disappearing. As soon as it did its targeting indicator turned from blue to red and no less than fifty anti-shipping missiles were reassigned to target it.
"Ok boys and girls, here we go. Gunslinger Prime, fox three."
From under his wings, ten SIM-1A Arbalest anti-shipping cruise missiles detached from their hard points, their powerful ion engines igniting sending them hurtling towards their targets. They were joined moments later by two hundred and thirty others, each carrying either a mark three tactical or mark eight strategic nuclear warhead. The hard points no longer in use, the mechanisms retracted into the wings, protecting the delicate power and data feeds from damage.
The Goa'uld must've realized the danger of the incoming missiles as they began blasting away with every weapon they had. However the missiles, each equipped with a low grade VI, easily dodged around the comparatively slow moving bolts of plasma, their reaction times measured in nano-seconds. As a result, only three of the two-hundred and forty missiles were destroyed en route to their targets.
The lead Goa'uld warship took the first hits, sixty three mark eight equipped missiles slamming into its shield and detonating. Seventy five gigatons of explosive power easily overwhelmed its shield and vaporized the vessel beneath, its brother joining it moments later as another fifty nine missiles erased it from existence.
The orbital weapons platforms, having much weaker shields were targeted by the less powerful mark three equipped missiles. Between eight and eleven missiles impacted each of the platforms, their one hundred and twenty five megaton warheads quickly shattering their defenses.
The Jaffa on the ground looked up as twelve small stars appeared in the night sky only a few seconds after two larger ones. To them it served as a sign.
The Tau'ri had come. And any Jaffa that stood against them was living on borrowed time.
