I leave for Ottawa in the morning, so I'm quickly posting this to get it up. Thank you so much for all your reviews, favourites, ect. They really do mean a lot to me. And I'm really sorry for, once again, not getting around to responding to your reviews. I was going to do that before posting, but I seem to have run out of time.
Also, thank you to Jon Harper for looking the chapter over!
P.S. I won't be seeing Captain America: Civil War until at least the 13th, so please no spoilers in your comments. Thanks.
Act VIII, pt i
DAWN
Daniel ducked and the stave blast hit the bulkhead above him. Not bothering to wince, he adjusted his grip and then aimed his P-90 at the closest Ori soldier. The bullets ricocheted off the armour, sending the soldier staggering backwards. A dark blur with red hair ran past him and Daniel stopped firing for long enough to find a second target. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blue-white flash of light as the Black Widow took down the first Ori soldier.
The armour was unfortunately mostly bullet-proof head on, but, being made of metal, it was extremely conductive. Daniel couldn't help notice how pleased Natasha had been by that discovery.
They had managed to get through the living quarters easily enough, only to encounter the official greeting party two corridors later. He couldn't quite tell if they'd been expecting the boarding party and their attempt to take control of the ship, but the Ori had certainly left enough soldiers behind to effectively defend the bridge. Although Daniel couldn't help but wonder if maybe they would've been better served to concentrate their entire force in one place instead of staggering them throughout the corridors... Not that he was about to complain about a potential oversight that made his team's job easier – or at least more likely to succeed.
It had been hours, though, and the corridors seemed endless. Adrenalin was mostly managing to keep away the exhaustion he could feel tugging at his temples, making him feel at once both jittery and cotton-headed. The hours had narrowed into an infinite stretch of grey corridors full of Ori soldiers and weapon's fire.
The Ori soldier's head snapped backwards, exposing his neck. Daniel adjusted his aim and pulled the trigger. The soldier let out a gurgled scream and collapsed.
Daniel chose a new target.
Rhodey sighed as his eyes once again slid to the red flashing light at the corner of his display. He had maybe forty minutes of power left in the suit, so long as he didn't need to use his repulsors. He sent a requisitions request to the Iron Patriot support team for a recharge unit. They acknowledged almost immediately, however it would take them about an hour to get one to him which meant he would have to be smart about how he used his remaining power.
Down below, traffic inched its way onto the highway ramps out of Manitou Springs. Pockets of troops from Fort Carson stood sentry over the evacuation, but with the flow stalled there was nothing much for them to direct except to keep people from abandoning their vehicles and running on foot. The side of the roads were packed with cars belonging to people who'd already done just that.
In the distance, he could just barely make out the Snakeskinners, still in the air and firing on the advancing Ori army. The occasional flash lit up part of the sky, but if something hadn't taken out most of the city's power, he probably wouldn't have been able to make the explosions out at all through the haze of smoke that now surrounded the city. He'd lost track of Thor hours ago.
Suddenly, his radio came to life. "Colonel Rhodes, please come in. Iron Patriot, please respond."
Rhodey blinked. "This is Rhodes. What's going on?"
"Colonel, this is Captain Hailey of SG-3, temporarily on loan to Area 51. My team and I were one of the groups who evacuated out of Area 51 before the base was destroyed."
That felt so long ago, but the name struck a bell. "You're the woman I have to thank for getting Tony to leave the base."
"Yes, sir, that was me."
"Okay, well what can I do for you, Captain?"
"Sir, I'm told you're in charge of the evacuation."
"Yes, Captain, I am. Not that there's a whole lot of evacuating going on right now what with traffic mostly standing still."
"I think I can help you with that, sir. My team and I are setting up a shield generator at an old sports arena just off Manitou Drive. Should fit just over two thousand people. I realize that's not a lot, comparatively, but that's still two thousand people and their cars off the road. Once it's on, no one will be able to get in or out of the arena, but it'll be able to withstand heavy fire from the Ori for a minimum of four to five hours. Possibly longer, depending on the concentration of fire."
Rhodey could feel the grin slowly spreading across his face. "Captain Hailey, Tony was right. You are amazing. Do you have just the one generator?"
"Negative, sir. I have three, including the one we're setting up now."
"Excellent news, Captain. I'll instruct the troops to start sending civilians your way."
She'd been afraid of freezing, of facing an enemy who was someone else's brother, husband, son and pulling the trigger. She'd been afraid of missing and watching someone beside her die because she wasn't fast enough, accurate enough. She'd been afraid of dying, of failing. She'd been afraid her determination – their determination – wouldn't be enough.
Nothing could've prepared Cassie for the sheer mind-numbing terror that would take hold of her once faced with the Ori. The moment the bullet-proof glass came shattering down, rational thought fled. The Ori were here and there was no time to think of anything but pulling the trigger, none left to be horrified that the liquid nitrogen-petrified statues were people as they were knocked over and shattered to pieces on the hard tile floor.
"Ms Hill, we're down to the last two shots of liquid nitrogen!" someone called out above the din. It wasn't Doctor Hartnell – she'd gone down from a well-aimed plasma shot ages ago – but Cassie couldn't remember who'd taken over.
"Retreat to the elevators!" she heard Maria Hill command. The other woman's voice was muddled, coming from somewhere beyond the cotton that surrounded Cassie, yet clearly audible. Cassie wasn't a soldier and yet she found herself automatically preparing to obey. Maybe she'd acquired the reflexes by osmosis.
She was using her last clip of ammo, only a few bullets left. Her hands were probably shaking, but she didn't look to check as she shifted into a crouch. It wasn't important.
She felt Happy's bulk shifting beside her. "Go, I'll cover you!" he said.
She nodded and took a deep breath. The moment she heard Happy's gun go off behind her, she took off towards the elevator. And then her hip suddenly exploded with burning pain. She cried out as she stumbled to the ground mid-sprint.
"Cassie!"
Cassie grit her teeth, feeling tears spring to her eyes as she breathed harshly through her nose, trying to breathe through the pain.
"Ms Fraiser, you must get up!"
JARVIS sounded panicked. That couldn't be good. Cassie clenched her hand around her gun, as though she could let the cold metal absorb her pain. She had to get up. Light flashed across her vision as a plasma shot streaked past her and hit one of the ornamental palms. She had to get up.
Pain still radiated from her hip, a throbbing burning that made her see stars when she moved. She forced her eyes open, horrified at herself for closing them, and looked up. Ori soldiers were pouring into the lobby now, Stark Tower's diminished security force desperately shooting. One soldier was taking shelter behind an empty liquid nitrogen canister and aiming for Happy. Cassie pulled herself up to one knee and raised her gun. Her hands were definitely shaking now.
She fired three bullets. The second hit the side of the canister, puncturing the metal and moving it a few inches back. The soldier jumped in surprise. The third bullet hit him in the side of the face, shattering his left cheekbone. He fell to the ground with an inhuman shriek of pain.
Suddenly hands were grabbing her by the armpits and dragging her upwards. "Come on, we've gotta move!"
Her vision swam, but she forced her legs to move forward, trusting Happy to guide her. Behind them, she heard gunshots. She shook her head, trying to blink some of the fuzziness out of her eyes, and then she was being shoved against the elevator wall. A new pair of hands grabbed her and steadied her. She looked up. Happy was still outside, shooting at the Ori with a determined look on his face while Maria Hill backed into the elevator, still shooting.
Maria and Happy exchange a quick glance and a nod. "JARVIS, take us up," said Maria and the doors began to close even as she continued to shoot.
"Everyone down!" she suddenly cried and crouched low, hunching her shoulders and ducking her head, but not lowering her gun in the slightest. There was a clamour of hurried movement as the elevator's occupants threw themselves downward.
A bright red plasma blast squeezed through the gap in the closing doors. Someone screamed. Cassie looked over, gasping as a man with long blond hair slumped to the ground, a smoking red burn spread across the upper half of his chest. Her own wound throbbed with renewed vigour. And then the elevator began to move.
Happy watched the elevator doors close with half an eye. As soon as the light above the elevator doors turned on to show it was in motion, he sighed with relief and signalled the other two remaining security officers. They emptied their clips into the growing crowd of enemy soldiers as they backed towards the narrow hallways that led towards the emergency bunker.
Then they turned on their heels and ran. From behind, they heard the clanging of armour as the soldiers took off after them.
JARVIS waited until all three members of Stark Tower security were safely behind the bunker's thick blast doors. He even let the Ori soldiers shoot at the titanium-enforced metal for a few minutes while the lobby continued to fill. The elevator was almost to its destination on the twenty-fifth floor when he finally spoke over the Tower's speaker system.
"Intruders detected. Activating security protocol Q-4."
Many of the Ori soldiers in the lobby paused and looked up, startled by the mysterious voice that seemed to come from all around them. They jumped and spun around when solid steel walls slid down with a resounding bang to replace the missing bullet-proof glass along the front of the lobby. So surprised by this development were they, that they didn't notice the gas being poured into the lobby until it was too late.
"JARVIS, report," Maria Hill demanded as soon as she stepped out of the elevator.
"I am pleased to report that the threat inside the lobby has been neutralized. It would appear that more are attempting to gain entrance into the Tower. Estimated time to renewed incursion: eighteen minutes. I am increasing the concentration of gas in the lobby to compensate."
"Good job, JARVIS. Let me know if anyone makes it through the lobby."
"Of course."
The Ori's soldiers were relentless, their numbers seemingly never-ending, filling the streets of the Tau'ri city as they marched onward. Dust and smoke had taken the shine from their armour, though not the shine of determination from their eyes. They had not yet realized the true enormity of the task they had before them, but Master Bra'tac had seen this city from his ha'tak. Teal'c had once tried to explain to him the sheer massive size of the cities of the Tau'ri, but this was well beyond what he had imagined. The tower-like buildings cast dark shadows over the battle, like mountains made of stone, metal and glass. The young woman who'd been one of this city's guards had called them skyscrapers and Master Bra'tac through the word appropriate – they did indeed look as though they were attempting to scrape the clouds out of the sky.
But Master Bra'tac had no time to be looking up, not with an enemy directly in front of him.
Again, he straightened to look over top of the strange metal wagon that smelled of food and fired his staff weapon. His aim was true and one more Ori soldier fell to the ground with a scream, his comrades barely noticing as they stepped over the body. He ducked behind his cover as the Ori answered his fire, the shots missing. The trainer of young Jaffa warriors frowned in disapproval at such incompetence.
A Tau'ri soldier ducked in beside him. He recognized the young marine they had assigned to help him with communications with the Tau'ri forces. "Master Bra'tac, SG21 reports they're in position and good to go."
Master Bra'tac nodded. "Are the covering artillery in position as well?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." He looked thoughtfully at the wagon he was hiding behind. "Sergeant Helborn, do happen to know anything about the heating device on this wagon?"
The marine blinked. "Uh, 's probably a propane tank, sir. Blows up real nicely if that's what you're thinkin'."
Bra'tac grinned. "You have read my mind, young man. Do you know how to set that up?"
"Yes sir." Sergeant Helborn immediately turned and opened the lower compartment of the metal wagon. "Oh hey, there's two unopened spares in here. Lucky. Good thing the guys we've got against us shoot like stormtroopers."
Master Bra'tac raised an eyebrow, but remained silent as the marine twisted the lids of the two small canisters sitting to the side until he heard the tell-tale hiss of leaking gas. They both ducked down as a plasma shot flew over the wagon.
A loud metallic squeal followed by some loud rattling. Bra'tac peeked around the side of the wagon just as a large metal dumpster was pulled up by some sort of white rope and flung into the front lines of the Ori soldiers. The soldiers staggered for a moment, the unexpected assault catching them off-guard. Master Bra'tac looked to the buildings and blinked in surprise when he saw a figure crouching on the side of the building.
Earth was truly a strange planet.
It didn't take the Ori soldiers long to spot the man – the form-fitting nature of his outfit left no doubt as to his gender. Sergeant Helborn immediately took advantage of the soldiers' distraction and disengaged the wagon's break, placing it squarely on its four wheels. Bra'tac quickly helped the young man turn the wagon and then Sergeant Helborn tossed a grenade into the hollow compartment and closed the door. Together, they pushed it forward, towards the soldiers and then ran.
They dived behind a low concrete barrier just as the grenade went off. The gas further igniting the air around the wagon.
"Woah, talk about explosive taste."
Master Bra'tac glanced to his right. The mysterious stranger was perching on top of a wooden stall. His body was lean and lithe, muscular but not broad. His face was covered by a mask, two dark mesh ovals where his eyes would be, and this close it was evident that his outfit was made of a rather bright material in red and blue. His neck stretched out curiously as he observed the Ori soldiers, his body somehow at rest and yet thrumming with with barely-concealed energy.
He had trained many Jaffa warriors, taken boys and turned them into warriors. His eyes knew what they saw: this was no man, but a youth. "Boy, get down from there!" he barked. "This is no place for curiosity seekers!"
The youth startled and then quickly scrambled down, his movements easy and flexible as he half-crawled down the stall. Like an insect or a lizard, Bra'tac thought.
"I'm not a curiosity seeker!" the boy protested as he crouched next to them. He thrust his chin out. "This is my city and I'm here to fight!"
Bra'tac felt the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement. "Dancing between the lines of battle will only see you caught in the crossfire! I do not think your parents would be happy to see that." He turned to the marine. "Sergeant Helborn, tell the artillery to begin their cover fire."
"Yes, sir," said Helborn and reached for his radio.
The long, silent pause on his other side was tell-tale. "My parents are dead," came the silent response.
"Then I very much doubt they would be happy to have you join them so soon."
"Hey, I'm not planning on–"
Master Bra'tac placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, silencing the rising indignation. "–Quiet, there is no time for this. In a moment, the artillery will begin firing to cover our retreat. You will run with us and you will stay low. Do you understand?"
The boy paused and then nodded. "Okay."
No sooner had he agreed, the first Tau'ri missile sailed over their heads and into the swarm of Ori soldiers, followed by a series of Jaffa staff cannon blasts. Bra'tac pushed the youth ahead of him and ran towards the barricade at the end of the next intersection of streets. Opposite them, he saw the Tau'ri with the metal arm also turn and run, keeping pace with them though Bra'tac suspected he could easily outrun them all.
Half-way to their goal, Bra'tac ducked behind a Tau'ri vehicle, whose roof was bent and twisted under a large chunk of masonry, and used it as cover while he fired several more staff blasts. Three more Ori soldiers fell. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the youth peering cautiously through the vehicle's windows. Sergeant Helborn was firing his own weapon at the Ori soldiers from the car at their backs.
Bra'tac fired once more and then ducked down. The car shook with impact as a blast from an Ori stave skimmed across its hood.
"Yikes!" exclaimed the youth. "That was close!"
"Which would be why I told you to stay low."
"Uh, right."
The youth paused for a moment and then cautiously inched his way slowly towards the front of the car. Bra'tac watched him out of the corner of his eye while he waited for the overhead artillery fire to begin its next wave of assault. It took him a few moments to realize the youth was looking up at the buildings on their right, his head cocked to one side thoughtfully. Bra'tac glanced up. There was a Tau'ri flyer wedged into the top of the building, which explained the masonry littering the ground.
A moment passed and then the youth nodded to himself and straightened. He held his hands up, palms up and bent, his wrists pointing oddly towards the building. He pressed two fingers into the centre of his palms and white ropes suddenly shot out. They attached themselves to the flyer's wing.
Bra'tac raised an eyebrow as he watched the youth begin to pull. To his amazement, the flyer began to slowly slide out of the hole, showering the sidewalk below it with bits of brick and mortar. He turned to the marine. "Sergeant Helborn, tell Colonel Travers to brace for impact."
"Yes, sir."
A plasma bolt hit the trunk of the car and sparks flew from the impact. Bra'tac instinctively turned his back to the hit, raising an arm to shield the boy from flying debris. He felt something hit his upper back and he staggered to the side as the car bumped against his hip. At one time, this would've been nothing, but Bra'tac was no longer a young man and that hip had been bothering him for some time. He hissed as it flared with pain.
The boy must've heard him, because he paused in his efforts and looked over his shoulder. "You, okay?" he asked.
Bra'tac chuckled. "I am uninjured, merely old."
"Yeah, can't help you with that one, sorry," the youth quipped before resuming his pulling.
Bra'tac threw him an amused glance before turning to once again fire at the on-coming Ori army. Two more soldiers were hit. One went down immediately, but the other staggered and cried out, but remained mostly upright. He felt movement behind him and tensed as he glanced over his shoulder. He caught a flash of metal and relaxed minutely, recognizing the Tau'ri with the metal arm joining the youth. He returned his attention back to the Ori soldiers after the man grasped the white rope, adding his strength to the effort.
Bra'tac was about to order them to abandon their attempts when the flyer finally came crashing to the ground and into the mass of Ori soldiers. He grinned at their panicked screams. "Well done! A truly inspired idea. Now, quickly, we must take advantage of their confusion."
No one chose to argue with him. Instead they followed his lead and ran towards the barricade, now visible as a solid jumbled line in the dark shadows set between tall buildings.
As they ran, he heard Sergeant Helborn talking into his radio. "This is Alpha One to SG21. We are approaching the access point, I repeat we are approaching the access point..." To his left, Bra'tac saw a set of stairs disappearing underground. "...and we're clear. I repeat this is Alpha One now clear of the access point. The Ori are on our six. Stand by for orders."
The Ori soldiers were indeed still right behind them. The confusion from the sudden crash of the flyer hadn't lasted long, and certainly not for the ones who hadn't gotten caught in its path. Still, it had been a good distraction and bought them just enough time to make it to the barricade. Jaffa and Tau'ri artillery were keeping up a constant barrage, slowing down their pursuers.
"Tell Ma'lek and Hinuk to target that flyer," he said to one of his Jaffa soldiers as soon as they were safely behind the line. The soldier bowed slightly and then hurried off to relay the orders. Ma'lek and Hinuk were manning one of the Jaffa staff cannons. Brothers, they were both clever enough to understand his meaning and his best cannon team.
He placed a hand on the youth's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "We will take full advantage of your idea," he said. "That rope of yours is quite impressive."
The youth cocked stared at him for a moment. "Oh, it's not rope. It's webbing."
Bra'tac frowned. "Webbing?"
"Yeah, like from a spider. I'm Spiderman."
He looked out at the advancing army, carefully marking their progress. "I think you have a few years yet before you can call yourself a man."
"Hey!"
"But all warriors must start as boys before they can become men. It is the way life goes." Finally, the line of Ori soldiers had gotten far enough. "Sergeant, tell SG21 they are free to advance."
"Yes sir!"
"Who's SG21?" asked the youth who called himself Spiderman.
"It is one of your Tau'ri gate teams."
"Yeah, that didn't make it any clearer. What's a Tau'ri?"
Bra'tac looked over to him in amusement. "You are. As for what that means... that, I believe, is a story for another time." He grabbed the boy and pushed him down as he too ducked an Ori stave blast. "Preferably when we are not being shot at."
He kept himself low as he rose and fired into the Ori line, a rapid succession of staff bolts designed to keep the enemy's attention on them, rather than on accuracy. To his right, he heard the metal-armed Tau'ri following his lead. And then the flyer exploded. Flames shot upwards, illuminating the soldiers on the ground. What windows had been left intact, shattered. There were more panicked screams as soldiers scrambled to avoid flying debris.
SG21 chose that moment to come charging out of the entrance to the Tau'ri underground transportation system.
Colonel Travers grinned at the burning F-302. A shame at the loss, but a great distraction. The Ori weren't looking anywhere near the subway tunnels. They'd passed tons of them, but as far as anyone could tell not a single soldier had ventured down. Probably hadn't even occurred to them that they led anywhere other than a cellar.
Her strike team consisted of SG21, a dozen marines and a handful of Jaffa. They waited for the flying debris to settle and then they charged out of the tunnel and directly into the middle of the Ori army, where they hadn't been in the least expected. They came out firing, a dozen grenades immediately thrown into their enemy's ranks. The Ori soldier's surprise was obvious and the first dozen soldiers fell in rapid succession well before they'd realized what was happening. Then they started to rally, but not quickly enough.
Travers was happy to report the Ori suffered a not-inconsiderable blow during those precious minutes it took them to readjust to the change in circumstances.
They began to advance towards them. "Retreat into the tunnels!" she called out.
She, two marines and a Jaffa who'd been personally recommended by Master Bra'tac lay down cover fire for the retreat, while the rest of the strike force hustled back to the subway station. They gave them as much time as they dared and then she and the marine each lobbed a couple grenades towards the Ori soldiers, before turning and executing their own retreat. This was the most dangerous part of their plan, because the stairwell was narrow and provided no cover whatsoever.
Behind them, she heard the sound of boots and the clanging of armour.
They jumped the ticket stations and charged onto the platform, where several Jaffa warriors were waiting for them, staff weapons primed and ready. At the first sign of the Ori, they began to fire. Travers ran to the edge of the platform and leapt down, landing into a crouch. She winced at the twinge in her ankle. She'd twisted it on a piece of masonry a while back, but not badly enough for her to be immediately concerned with.
The Jaffa warrior who'd stayed with her to cover the strike team's retreat landed next to her. They exchanged nods and then rose.
"Jaffa, kree!" he called out, his voice booming over the sounds of weapons fire.
The warriors on the platform immediately began to fall back. Travers raised her own P-90, the two marines on her other side doing the same as they fired into the Ori soldiers. One of the Jaffa on the platform cried out and then crumbled to the ground, a smoking hole in his chest.
"Bollocks." She grit her teeth. It had almost looked like they might just manage to avoid casualties during this strike.
The other Jaffa made it to the platform and jumped down.
"Everyone heads down!" Travers commanded even as the Jaffa commander called out his own order.
She ducked down and covered her eyes. Moments later, there was a flash. When she looked up, the first wave of Ori soldiers were laying on the ground, stunned by several Jaffa grenades. She exchanged a smirk with the warrior at her side. Then she turned to the marines. "Lieutenant, lead the retreat and hustle to it."
The brunette nodded once and then turned and hurried away, the rest of their strike team running behind them. Several marines provided cover fire, emptying their cartridges into the newly-arriving Ori soldiers. Travers hummed thoughtfully. It was going to be tight.
She decided to take a risk and pulled out a grenade. Keeping in mind where she'd laid her charges, she threw it into the crowd. "Down!"
They all ducked, plastering themselves as close to the edge of the platform as they could. She keyed her radio. "McNab, this is Travers. Cut the power!"
"McNab here. Acknowledged sir. Cutting power in three... two... one."
Suddenly, the station went dark. Travers raised herself and fired a steady stream of bullets at the no-doubt disorientated Ori soldiers. The effect was almost immediate and when she ducked back down, the Ori were firing back. "Go, fall back!" she ordered over the sounds of Ori stave weapons.
The plasma blasts provided just enough light to give them a modicum of visibility as they ran in a crouch along the subway platform. Once they passed the platform, they were able to run upright. It wasn't long before a few plasma blasts followed them down the tunnel. She had no way of knowing if they were stray blasts or on purpose.
This would have to be far enough. She crouched down as close to the sturdy walls of the subway tunnel as she could get, knowing the others were watching her every move. She slipped the remote detonator out of her pocket and primed it with a flick of her thumb.
"Alright, gents, 'ere goes nothing." She silently counted to five. "Fire in the hole!"
She pressed the flashing red button and then covered her ears as the C4 charges on the support pillars and the one above the entrance to the station all went off. There were screams as the subway station ceiling came down on top of the Ori soldiers' heads.
And then there was silence.
Despite all the troops they'd already encountered and taken out, the bridge still managed to be heavily-defended. Daniel hated how many lives were being wasted, both Ori and theirs. He idly wondered what exactly the Priors were telling their followers about Earthlings to make them so determined; it certainly wasn't an uncommon practice for military and religious leaders to paint their enemy as horrible demons that would rape their wives and eat their children should they win. They'd never said anything outlandish or even derogatory in front of Daniel, but the Priors weren't really a chatty bunch when they weren't spouting rhetoric.
Daniel blinked the sweat out of his eyes and pulled the trigger, wincing when the shot went wide. The soldier he'd been aiming at went down moments later under a spray of bullets from one of the SHIELD guns. He ducked around the corner to avoid the answering fire.
Trip Tucker threw himself against the wall beside him. His brow was covered in sweat and there was blood soaking his uniform on his right shoulder. "So, you sure this is the only way onto the bridge?"
Daniel nodded. "Positive. Only other way onto the bridge is from the Prior's quarters and I don't know if they're connected to the rest of the ship. They never game me my own ship when I was one."
Trip stared at Daniel incredulously. "You were a Prior?!"
"It's a long story. I was sort of possessed at the time if it helps."
"No, man, that really doesn't."
"Didn't really think so."
There was a slight pause in the Ori's fire. Daniel pushed himself away from the wall and spun around the corner, letting loose a spray of bullets, aiming low for their less-protected legs. Trip followed him, pausing only for a moment before aiming high. The SHIELD guns seemed to do a better job getting through the Ori's armour (some of which they also seemed to have been upgraded since the last time they'd encountered them), but not by much.
Suddenly, the door behind the Ori soldiers opened. Daniel stopped firing the moment he recognized the redhead on the other side. Natasha fired her Spider Bites at two of the soldiers before kicking the right knee out of a third. The soldiers' cries attracted the attention of their fellows, but they were too slow to react to the new threat from behind them while keeping their weapons aimed at the one still in front of them.
After what felt like hours trying to get to the bridge, the rest of the fight took mere minutes.
"I thought you said there was no other way to get to the bridge," Trip said after it was all over.
Daniel shrugged. "I said I'd never been to the Prior's quarters before." He turned to Natasha. "How did you know it was there?"
Natasha smirked before heading back through the door to the bridge, clearly expecting them to follow. "Skye managed to get access to the ship's computer and downloaded the schematics. There's a narrow ventilation shaft that runs above what I assume you're calling the Prior's quarters."
"Huh, good to know."
They entered the bridge to find Skye already at a console, her laptop hooked in, and typing away. "It was really tight squeeze," she called to them. "I mean, none of you guys would've been able to get through. Black Widow and I barely managed."
Daniel smiled. "Well, awesome job, ladies. So, that means the computer system's not giving you too much trouble, Skye?"
Skye snorted. "Please, now that my computer's speaking the same language thanks to that interface program you gave me, this is the easiest hack job I've ever done. Their firewall's a joke. In fact, I'm not really sure this is actually supposed to be a firewall."
"It might not be. I mean, the Ori's followers for the most part come from pre-industrial societies. It's not like hackers are a problem they've ever had to deal with. They probably don't even understand the concept of a firewall, except in the literal sense of a wall of fire."
"Well, either way, I'm not complaining."
Daniel chucked and then stepped over to the side to radio Jack.
Sam paused just inside the Victory's makeshift cafeteria (as in, the room with benches they'd shoved their food supplies into), surprised by the sight of Major Lorne stretched out along one wall. He had his pack beneath his head and one hand flung across his eyes to keep the light out. There was a half-empty water bottle sitting to one side next to an empty cloth wrapper. Sam spared a moment to wonder who was piloting the ship before he quietly made his way towards the food supplies.
"'S okay, I'm not actually asleep."
Sam fumbled the MRE he was quietly removing from one of the Atlantis supply packs. Then he looked over his shoulder to where Lorne was looking at him from beneath his raised arm with amused eyes.
"If you're down here, does that that mean the Ori flyers are taken care of?" Sam asked.
Lorne removed his arm entirely and sat up. "Yup, it's clear skies all the way. The General ordered me to take a break from the chair and grab a bite."
"You know you probably could've found somewhere a bit darker to sleep."
Lorne shrugged. "Nah, too wired to sleep. Just needed a bit of quiet and to not be connected to the Chair for a while."
Sam hummed. "That must be pretty intense, man. I could go get you some tylenol from the medical kits if you want."
"Thanks, but I'm good." Lorne paused thoughtfully. "It's not really like that. The Chair doesn't feel invasive like you'd expect it to, more like using a touchpad without your fingers. It's like... my head's not hurting exactly, more like there's this buzzing in the back of my mind, like white noise. It's just making me feel a bit off-kilter, but not to the point of being painful. It's hard to explain, sorry."
"I think I get it." He turned back to the food, stuffing the one MRE into the front of the pack he'd emptied and then moving on to the crates they'd gotten from their friends in Aeneid. And, seriously, how cool was it that he could honestly say he had friends on another planet?
"Taking food to the scientists?" Lorne asked after a few moments.
Sam nodded. "Carson asked me to go make sure everyone gets some food and water in them. We managed to get everyone we beamed over from the Phoenix stabilized enough for now, so he told me to take a breather and stretch my legs."
"Better get moving before McKay starts complaining about his hypoglycemia."
Sam blinked and then looked back to Lorne, startled. "McKay's hypoglycemic?! Shit, I should head there first then."
Lorne chuckled. "Thing is, McKay's hypoglycemia's the stuff of myth and legends. He keeps reminding everyone about it, but no one's really sure how much of it is real, and how much of it is his hypochondria speaking. Also the stuff of legends, by the way."
Sam groaned. "Great, that's just great. Well, can't be too bad if Carson didn't warn me about it."
"Possibly. It could also be that since McKay pretty much never goes anywhere without half a dozen power bars on his person, the Doc figured he'd be fine either way."
"And from what I hear, that's pretty much what Stark lives on most days anyway. Okay, so I'll start with the bridge and then Steve, thanks."
"No problem."
He should've braced himself before entering the Secondary Chair Room, should've remembered and realized what would be waiting for him. As it was, he'd forgotten – it'd been a long day, after all – and the scene that greeted him took his breath away for several long moments. There was a light glow coming from the ceiling, though not from any visible light fixtures. The rest of the room was dark, the floor display showing a nighttime scene of New York that looked like it had come straight out of his worst nightmares. He felt the sudden urge to call his mom, to make sure she was alright.
The lights were off in most of what he could see of the city and the lack of light pollution, coupled with smoke and dust from the battle, bathed Central Manhattan in thick darkness. Had he not known they were hovering above Central Park, he wouldn't have recognized the area. He still didn't recognize it. Through the darkness he could make out piles of rubble lining the park and the constant blue, white and orange lights from Ori, Jaffa, and Earthing weapon's fire revealed the torn-up, pock-marked ground Central Park's turf had become. The Hulk was the only noticeable irregularity amidst a sea of Ori soldiers on the ground, though he looked shadowed, more gray than green, in the darkness. A missile hit the pavement just outside the park with a short flash, sending bits of asphalt flying into the air.
In the centre of the room, the Chair shone like a beacon, hovering above the city. Steve's still form was bathed in white light, his eyes closed and, though his body was clearly tensed, he almost looked asleep.
Sam didn't suffer from vertigo, yet he still had to look up before he could bring himself to walk any further into the room, wishing he hadn't left his wings in the med-bay. Off to the side, the top of the engineering console gave off an eerie blueish light and illuminated the Lieutenant's face, making her look even more exhausted than she probably was. He made his way over to her, his jaw clenched against the urge to run.
She smiled tiredly at him as she gratefully accepted a meet bun and a bottle of water.
"How's he doing?" Sam asked her quietly.
"He's doing great, Sam," Steve answered loudly.
Sam looked up. "Sorry, man, thought you needed quiet to concentrate."
Steve opened one eye to look at him. "Right now I'm pretty much just holding the drones steady around the Ori ship. Don't really need much concentration for that." Then he noticed the pack Sam was carrying and his other eye opened. "Oh, did you bring food?"
"Yeah, Carson told me to go 'round and make sure no one was ready to pass out from manly – or, uh, womanly – hunger."
Steve grinned. "Thanks, Sam, I'm starving."
"That's your default setting." Sam frowned as he walked over to Steve, ignoring the movement beneath his feet. "Can you even eat while you're in that thing."
"Uh..." Steve frowned and closed his eyes. After a moment he carefully lifted one hand and then opened his eyes. "Okay, I'm pretty sure I need to maintain contact with at least one hand, but that gives me one hand free to eat with."
Sam shook his head. "That thing is really weird."
"Tell me about it. As cool as this is, it feels really strange not being on the ground fighting with my shield."
"Excuse me, sir, but you are fighting with a shield," the Lieutenant at the console spoke up. She grinned. "It's just a bit bigger than your usual one."
Steve answered her grin. "And it took out alien space ships."
"Exactly, sir."
Sam rolled his eyes as he piled three meat buns onto Steve's stomach, partially unwrapping them so he could get at them easily one-handed. The water bottle was a bit more of a problem, but he managed to wedge it between the edge of the chair and Rogers' side.
"Thanks, Sam."
"No problem, Cap. And just so you know, after this is over I'm gonna have tons of fun telling everyone all about how you spent the entire battle sitting on your ass." He paused as Steve good-naturally rolled his eyes. He looked his friend over, noting the tightness around his eyes that seemed to be the only indication that he wasn't, in fact, just sitting on his ass in a fancy glowy alien chair. Which didn't really mean much as Steve was very good at hiding just how awful he was feeling. "Having said that, I just ran into Major Lorne taking a break. You sure you don't need one too?"
"It's not like there's anyone to take over if I did."
"Technically, the General could, sir," said the Lieutenant (Sam was really going to have to ask Steve what her name was).
Steve blinked. "He could? Wait, that would be General O'Neill, right?"
"Yes, sir. He's the strongest gene carrier on record – stronger than even Colonel Sheppard. He was the one who discovered the Command Chair in Antarctica. That was before he got promoted to General, when he was still the leader of SG1."
"Okay, that explains why he and Daniel seem like such good friends."
"Oh, he and Doctor Jackson were both part of th–"
The ceiling began to pulse.
Steve dropped the meat bun he was eating onto his stomach and wiped his hand on his uniform before grasping the armrest again. The light from the Chair brightened slightly. "Lieutenant Blake, what's going on?"
Sam ran to the console and then blinked at it from behind the brunette, whose attention was now riveted to the displays. He groaned. "Aaand why the hell did I just run over here, when I can't understand any of this?"
"I have no idea, sir," the woman replied absently as she tapped at the console. She then looked up. "Captain Rogers, whatever's going on, I don't think it's us. There seems to be some sort of power transference from the ZPM."
She then tapped her comm. "Doctor McKay, this is Lieutenant Blake in the Secondary Command Chair Room, we're experiencing some sort of power fluctuation. Source unknown."
There was a long pause. Long enough that the Lieutenant had begun to frown in concern.
"McKay here. What sort of power fluctuations?"
"I-I'm not sure, sir. The ZPM output is holding steady, although there was a slight power spike just over six hours ago and then another one fifteen minutes ago. Both only lasted less than ten seconds and didn't seem to effect the function of the chair, so I didn't feel it was necessary to alert you. The Chair and drone system doesn't seem to be effected, however the energy in the room itself is being disrupted by something." Her frown deepened. "If I'm reading this right, I think there's something trying to use the same output."
"What are the levels fluctuating between? No, wait. Did you say the first spike was just over six hours ago?"
"Yes, sir, and the second one 15.67 minutes ago."
"That... can't be a coincidence."
"Sir?"
More silence followed. And then the ceiling stopped pulsing and returned to its previous dull glow.
Lieutenant Blake looked back down to the readouts and tapped her comm. "Doctor McKay, the fluctuations seemed to have stopped."
"Good. I'm pretty sure I know what caused it. Hang on, we're going to try something. Don't panic."
"Famous last words," Blake muttered under her breath.
Steve chuckled. Sam opened his mouth to speak, when the ceiling pulsed once and then the glow went out completely. He closed his mouth and looked up at the pitch black space above him, worried. The floor was still projecting the battle, the blue and orange weapons blasts, and sharp white pinpricks of machine gun fire suddenly more noticeable than a moment ago. More immediate. Without the clearly-visible ceiling, there was nothing to distract him from the feeling of being suspended within a void overlooking the battlefield.
"It's a good thing he told us not to panic," said Sam with a glance to Lieutenant Blake. She met his eyes with a wry look of her own and he gestured towards the centre of the room. "Although at least with Captain Glowbug over there, we're not completely in the dark."
"You're hilarious," said Steve dryly.
Light returned to the room gradually as the ceiling seemed to... vanish. Instead of a gently glowing ceiling, they were looking up into a generously-illuminated, cavernous room with warm green walls. It was somehow an even stranger sensation to be looking into a room from beneath it than it had been to look down on the battlefield.
Movement had Sam noticing yet another alien console just at the edge of their ceiling – though clearly not at the edge of the room above them. A top section of the console had been taken apart and thick white wires stretched out like octopus tentacles from inside into a black laptop perched on the corner. More tentacle-like wires ran along the console and then plugged into a rather scorched and slightly dented Iron Man. Sam blinked at the armour, confused by its presence, when a dishevelled Tony Stark popped up from behind the console. His eyes widened as he leaned over the console to get a better look.
Sam waved up at him.
Stark brightened and raised his hand as if to wave back, when suddenly a second head popped up from the other side of the console. Moments later, Doctor McKay was across the console and practically plastered up against Stark's side – much to the billionaire's obvious discomfort and annoyance. At least it seemed obvious to Sam. McKay was clearly either ignoring it or entirely oblivious while his mouth ran a mile a minute. Stark rolled his eyes and pushed the other man to the side. McKay went easily enough – clearly this wasn't the first time – his attention already back on the console. Stark, however, was still looking down at them in amazement.
Or, rather, he was until McKay looked up, said something, and then turned around and left. Stark blinked, looking bewildered, and then followed a few seconds later.
"Sooo, how scared do you figure we should be at the fact that McKay and Stark are apparently working together?" Sam asked after a moment.
Steve chuckled. "Well, at least they seem to be getting along."
"Yeah, I'm not really sure that's as reassuring as it should be."
The doors swished silently open and the two scientists came charging in.
"Oh, this is interesting," said McKay almost immediately, looking around at the walls and what remained of the ceiling, while Tony Stark froze two steps into the room and stared at the floor. "The room reflects the outdoor weather conditions."
"Wh-what the hell?" Tony exclaimed. "Is this room built on a window?"
McKay waved away his comment. "Don't be ridiculous. It's a real-time holographic projection. Oh you brought food! Excellent."
Sam bit his lip as he dutifully took out the MRE he'd stashed away and handed it over to the excited scientist.
"You should've seen it while we were in space," said Lieutenant Blake.
"In space?" Tony's eyes widened when he realized what she meant. "Holy shit! That must've been awesome."
"It was pretty swell alright," said Steve with a grin.
Sam handed Tony a meat bun. Tony stared at it, a panicked look in his eyes as he looked around his immediate area. Sam frowned. "Uh, Tony?"
"Oh for–" said McKay, his words slightly garbled because his mouth was full of food. Holding the MRE in one hand, he then reached behind him and pulled out the large alien PDA he seemed to be attached to. He turned it screen down and held it out like a tray. "Here, put it on this."
Sam raised an eyebrow and did as he was told. When he glanced back to Tony, he was surprised to find the billionaire looking much more relaxed. Tony cautiously took the bun from the PDA and sniffed at it. Then his eyes slid back over to McKay, who was scarfing down his MRE with far more gusto than the meal deserved.
"So, what exactly did you do to get the crap the military calls food instead of this?" he asked.
McKay rolled his eyes. "'S not tha' bad," he said as he shovelled the last bit into his mouth. "Besides, I at least know what's in this. The last thing we need right now is for me to go into anaphylactic shock thanks to hidden alien citrus-like ingredients."
Tony's eyes widened. "A citrus allergy? Wow, that must suck. I mean, that means no margaritas, no gin and tonics–"
"–Yes, because that's clearly been a priority in my life." The scientist finished his meal and shoved the empty container at Sam. Sam glared at him, but took the container and shoved it back into his food sack.
"Maybe it should've been," Tony argued around his own meal.
McKay didn't hear him. He was too busy looking up at the console in the room above them. Then he looked to the floor, paling slightly as he took in the scene below them for the first time. "Wow, it's really bad out there." He swallowed.
"Yeah," said Tony softly. "That's why we've gotta work fast."
McKay nodded grimly. There was a distant pain reflected in his eyes, and it wasn't the sort that came from seeing a battleground for the first time. Sam suddenly remembered hearing the scientist was part of a veteran first contact team.
And then McKay blinked and the determination was back in his eyes. There was still fear there, obvious for anyone to see, but the hands that held the alien PDA were reassuringly steady. "Then it's a good thing I've just figured out why they set the rooms up like this." He turned on his heel. "I wonder if this console is linked to the one upstairs."
Lieutenant Blake stepped to the side before McKay could shove her out of the way. Stark joined him moments later. Sam exchanged a look with Steve (who had gone back to devouring his meat buns now that it seemed the problem had been solved).
Less than fifteen minutes later, McKay was tapping his comm. "General O'Neill, this is McKay."
"O'Neill here. Please tell me you have good news. I could use some right about now."
"Then you're in luck. I've figured out how to work the device. We can have it ready to go within the hour."
"Sun rises in forty-seven minutes. You have until then."
Colonel Mitchell barely noticed when the sun began to rise. He had noticed when the bombardment in the distance had gotten louder. It didn't sound like F-302 or Al'kesh fire, which meant the General had finally decided to bring the destroyer waiting in the wings to the party. Clearly something was about to happen, so he took rolled his shoulders to loosen the muscles and took a deep breath.
A plasma bolt seared into the pavement two feet away from him and he smirked. The Ori's aim just kept getting worse the more tired they got. He leaned out from behind the dumpster he was using for cover and aimed at the first Ori soldier he saw. The soldier had lost his helmet somewhere in the fray, so Mitchell went for the head shot. The soldier went down like a rock.
And so, in the shadow of New York's skyscrapers, air clouded over with dust and gun power, Cameron didn't notice it had gotten light out until a flaming Johnny Storm landed next to his dumpster and proclaimed: "Please tell me dawn brings new hope or some other sort of sappy bullshit, 'cause I think I might actually be running out of flame power and I didn't think I could run out of flame power!"
The mild rant brought a small, tired smile to Cameron's face. "The General said they'd have something for us at dawn."
"Well it's past dawn now."
"Is it?" That was when he looked up at the sky and realized that, yes, it was in fact a brand new day. Whatever that meant.
Storm's flames went out, revealing dark circles around blood-shot blue eyes. His face was smudged with what looked like soot, his blond hair carried a liberal dusting of grey, and there were tears and burns in his uniform. He huffed tiredly. "Yeah, it really is."
The sound of the battle was ringing in his ears. Cameron would be hearing it in his head for days after, he just knew it. Assuming he survived. He hefted his P-90 once more – it felt like it weighed about five hundred pounds at this point – and pushed himself away from his cover again. His radio went off just as he was about to pull the trigger, prompting him to throw himself back against the side of the dumpster.
"This is Victory Ship to all unit commanders. I repeat this is Victory Ship to all unit commanders. Please respond."
He opened his radio comm. "This is Ground Commander Colonel Mitchell of SG1. Over."
One by one, the other unit commanders all responded. Cameron raised an eyebrow at the marine lieutenant who responded on Bra'tac's behalf. He hadn't been aware the Jaffa was in command of one of the units.
"This is General O'Neill. Stand by, people. Reinforcements are inbound from Fort Dix. They've been convoying overnight and should be hitting the outskirts within the hour. We've got the 2nd Brigade of the 75th Division as well as the 174th Infantry brigade coming our way, supported by the 72nd Artillery brigade and Marine Aircraft group 49. Until they get there, I need you to hold the line.
In the meantime, we've got a bit of a surprise for the Ori soldiers, a way to hopefully neutralize their weapons at least temporarily, possibly permanently. This should give us the break we need to finally end this, but I'm told it won't be instantaneous so continue as you are until the enemy stops firing back. Remember, your number one priority is to keep the Ori soldiers contained. There's too many of them to pussy-foot around, so shoot to kill if you have to, but let's not make this anymore of a massacre than we have to. Do you all copy?"
Cameron blinked. Neutralizing the Ori soldier's weapons? He could get behind that. He keyed his radio. "Mitchell, here. I copy."
Once again, the unit commanders all radioed in their affirmation of the orders.
"Alright then, good luck people. McKay, you're up."
"Right, yes. Okay, so we're not sure how quickly this is going to happen. Could take anywhere from minutes to hours, but I'm thinking closer to minutes, starting with Central Park and moving out from there. You'll know it's working when you stop getting shot at by those ridiculously-medieval looking weapons. Should be simple enough for anyone to understand. Questions?"
"Just turn the damn thing on, McKay."
"Fine. Turning the 'damned thing' on in three... two... one... now!"
Cameron exchanged a look with Johnny Storm and held his breath. Several moments passed and nothing had changed. He let the breath out and sighed. "Guess they said it wouldn't be instantaneous."
Johnny chuckled tiredly. "Would've been nice if they'd been wrong, or overestimating stuff, but I suppose we'll just to be glad if it works as advertised."
"Yeah, here's hoping."
Johnny nodded to him as flames once again erupted from his pores and surrounded him. He took off and Cameron once again threw himself into the battle. Time passed in gunshots and answering plasma blasts. And then one of the army privates on his right went down with a scream, the side of his neck and upper shoulder exploding into a smouldering mess. Cameron cursed.
"Cover me!" he called back to the soldier behind him, taking only a moment to realize it was a Tokra who'd apparently picked up a P-90 somewhere. The Tokra merely nodded and stepped forward to pepper the Ori soldiers with bullets while Cameron weaved out and ran towards the fallen soldier.
It was bad. The soldier was still awake, though clearly in shock. Cameron winced at the partially-exposed collarbone. Kid looked young too; this was probably his first action. Out of the corner of his eye, he could already see army field medics running towards them, weaving their way through the battle field to extract the wounded soldier. Who was going to need more than just field medicine.
Suddenly, Cameron had an idea. He pulled his Atlantis communicator out of his pocket and stuck it into his ear. "Doctor Beckett, this is Colonel Mitchell, do you read me?"
There was nothing, so he tapped the communicator and tried again. "Doctor Beckett, this is Mitchell, you there?"
A few more moments passed. "Aye, Colonel, I'm here. Am a mite surprised to be hearing from you, though. What's going on?"
Cameron let out a sigh of relief. "Doc, I've got a kid here who's in a bad way. Got part of his shoulder blown off. I know you're pretty much a medical team of two up there, but any chance you've got some sort of Ancient regeneration do-hickey that could help this guy out?"
"How severe are we talking?"
"I can see his collarbone, Doc."
He heard a sharp intake of breath. "Hang on, lad, give me a moment."
"Sir, we need you to move."
He looked up at the army medics and shook his head. "You'll never get him to a hospital in time. Give me a second, we're trying to figure something out."
They all ducked down as plasma shots flew over their heads.
"Sir?" the medic asked again, obviously confused.
Cameron opened his mouth to answer, trying to figure out a way to explain things with as few words as possible, when Doctor Beckett was once more speaking into his ear.
"Beckett here. Alright, lad, we'll see what we can do. I'll assume he's the lifesign nearest to you?"
Cameron smiled and gestured to the medics. "Take a step back, guys. Don't want you getting caught in the beam too."
The medics exchanged a confused look, but he outranked them so they did as they were told.
He hit his Atlantis comm. "Yeah, he's the guy laying on the ground next to me. You have a lock on him?"
"Well, not me personally, but yes we do. Ye might want to take a step back yourself now, Colonel."
Cameron looked down at the terrified private and smiled reassuringly. "You'll be okay, Private. Just relax, Doctor Beckett's one of the best."
"Sir, what's going on?" the second medic demanded.
Suddenly, the private was bathed in the familiar white lights of an Asgard transporter beam. And then he was gone. Cameron breathed a sigh of relief and looked up into the astonished faces of the army medics... who probably didn't have the security clearance to see that. "Er..."
"Sir, there's something going on with the Ori!"
Cameron was on his feet in an instant and running over to Captain Lee of SG18 to see what was going on. The Ori soldier's movements seemed to have stalled. He could just about make out shouting, but couldn't hear any actual words above the weapon's fire. Weapon's fire that was coming from their side. Because, he realized, the Ori soldiers weren't firing back. He grabbed his field binoculars and looked ahead.
It took him a few minutes to realize the significance of what he was seeing. Or, rather, to realize what he wasn't seeing. He raised his hand to get his unit's attention. "Hold your fire!" he called out and then heard the order echo through the ranks.
He returned his attention back to the Ori soldiers and wondered just how McKay had managed this one. He'd worked with the neurotic Canadian before, but he'd never quite found it in him to like the guy, and had certainly never understood how McKay had managed to grow into the affections of the Atlantis crew. But right now, he was maybe falling just a little bit into like with the guy. He and Stark hadn't just disabled the Ori's weapons, they'd made them disappear.
And weaponless, the Ori's soldiers superior numbers didn't mean so much anymore. Cameron grinned.
Dawn broke over Colorado Springs with a soft whispering of light, just enough to charge the air with anticipation, before a brilliant explosion painted the sky in pink, blues and purple. Weary eyes looked up, too tired to feel pleasure, having just enough energy to feel surprise that the night, an eternity of darkness, was finally ending. The sun rose higher, a blessing for the new day and a curse as the light revealed what the darkness had hid.
The mountains were bleeding.
Lush green trees still grew along the mountain and throughout Cheyenne National Park, their branches providing cover for a multitude of shrubs and bushes and hideaways for startled animals. It was a stark contrast to the wound in its side that was muddy with blood and piled with corpses. Screams had long turned to moans and the moans were growing quieter.
Over to the west, a cloud of smoke hovered over Manitou Springs, made thick from fire and gunpowder. Broken buildings and bloody streets greeted the day and, hidden beneath their foundations, inside basements and sewers, people whimpered and prayed in the dark, neither realizing nor caring that a new day had dawned. To them it didn't matter; their nightmare wasn't over.
The quiet whimpers in the basements and sewers were swallowed by the raging storm of artillery fire and automatic weapons as soldiers fought street to street, and house to house, to hold back the Ori army. Tired eyes looked momentarily at the sky, the light of the early morning sun barely reaching them through the haze of smoke and dust. The night had ended and they were still here, though every inch of ground had been dearly paid for.
A dark shadow emerged from behind the clouds and blocked the sun.
It ripped through the clouds, too big to do anything less no matter how gradual its descent. Silent at first, the steady thrum of its engines and burning rush of its thrusters became louder, until the haze scattered away in whirls. A huge metal beast with a long neck, it was full of harsh geometric angles and grey, utilitarian design – a tank to the Ori's opulent chariot.
It came to a halt still far above the city, nowhere near close to the ground force's ranges. It paused for a moment, as though taking in the scene.
Aboard the Daedalus, Colonel Caldwell leaned forward in his seat, his eyes not wavering from the main screen and the battlefield it showed him. "Lieutenant Blackwell, inform Major O'Connor that he and his teams are green to go."
He barely paused to hear the Lieutenant's acknowledgement of the order. "Captain Maxwell, target the Ori soldiers outside the city, full rail gun spread."