Spearhead: Tragedies and Statistics

by Darksider

It's 2009, the Goa'uld War has raged for over ten years as Humanity and its allies continue to fight against the System Lords.

1. Default Chapter

Spearhead: Tragedies And Statistics

Cast

Earth

General Orin Stuart - Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, US Army
Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill - Supreme Allied Commander Stargate Command (SAC-SGC), Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, USA
Lord Sir Henry Patterson - Admiral of the Fleet, United Earth Navy

Spearhead

Brigadier General Carter - Commanding Officer, Spearhead

SG-Omega

Colonel Kerr Avon - Commanding Officer, SG-Omega
Major Ettore Capini - 2IC
Captain Jonas Quinn - Chief Technical Officer, Special Projects Division

Third Fleet

Rear Admiral Kent - Senior Officer, Third Fleet, ENS Ark Royal

Goa'uld Union

Bast - Head of the Goa'uld Union
Hek'at - First Prime to Bast
Lord Kiptakanae
Lord Asphe'khat

Goa'uld Separatists

Lord Yu

Gryphon

Queen Anne of the Sword - Her Royal Highness, the Kingdom of Gryphon
King Yamato of the Sword - His Royal Highness, the Kingdom of Gryphon
General Tadeshi Roberts of the Fist - Supreme Commander of the Troops

Brigadier General Franklin Scott - CO, 23rd Heavy Infantry Division (Rapid Reaction Force), SGC

Chapter 1
Eye of the Storm

10:00 ZULU
October 3rd, 2009
United Earth World Council Headquarters, Greenwich, England.

"This Council is now in session." Prime Minister Grant announced as she banged the small wooded gavel once, the low murmur in the chamber faded away as the various heads of state and their staff shifted their attention to her.

The World Council Chamber was a large, circular hall ringed with concentric tiers of benches, sliced into small sections for each representative nation. One side of the round chamber was flattened, against which, a raised die was placed where the Chairman of the Council sat, in this case, Prime Minister Grant of Great Britain. The Council Chamber was lavishly appointed, with thick, green carpet, rich, oak furniture and gold plated fixtures. Its carefully ornate appearance hid the varied and numerous high tech installations in the tables and walls. Each bench section was crammed with a computer and touch screen interface, video camera and secure communication unit, allowing each member to access any information or person in the world. Large plasma screen displays were set into ornate frames and camouflaged as works of art.

Elizabeth Grant took a sip from her glass of water and touched her computer display, bringing up the agenda for the session. She had already studied it in detail but she glanced at it one more time before looking up and addressing the Council. "I'm sure you've all taken a look at the agenda for this meeting but are there any items anyone wishes to put before this Council for later discussion?" Part of the Council Charter stated that any nation could bring any subject to the Council's attention it wished for due consideration by the various Council members.

The South African Prime Minister stood up as her computer display signaled his desire to speak. She nodded in his direction. "Prime Minister Otamba..."

Otamba smiled graciously and cleared his throat. "Madam Chairman, I'd like to add a brief discussion to the agenda about the increasing trade shortfall of my nation, as well as that of the Gulf States."

Grant suppressed a sigh and nodded. A downside in the influx of alien technology and mineral resources from other worlds in the Alliance meant that several countries that provided strategic minerals to the world at large were currently suffering an imbalance as prices dropped in addition to demand. The imbalance had only begun to be noticeable in the past year or so, and even then barely so, but clearly the trade shortfall would continue to grow if something didn't change soon.

"Of course, Mr Prime Minister." She replied as her Council aide beside her used his computer to attach the subject to the agenda. Otamba nodded in satisfaction and sat down.

No-one else spoke and so Grant moved on. "Very well, to business. Members of the Council, the first item of today involves a briefing on the current status of the war with the System Lords. I'd like to remind you all that this is a Alpha-level briefing and therefore not subject to discussion outside of this Chamber." She turned to her left and set her gaze upon the handful of military officers stood against the wall. "General O'Neill..."

Taking a deep breath, O'Neill stepped forward, towards the center of the Chamber. This was not his first top-level briefing by any means but that didn't mean he had come to like them any more than he did in the beginning. Give me a cohort of Jaffa over a roomful of politicians any day. Hammond, how the hell did you manage to work with these people without taking a gun to them?

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen." He began politely and impassively, showing no trace of his feelings on his face. "This briefing will begin with an overall look at the current conflict and then afterwards, we'll go over it again in more detail and take any questions you might have."

He turned towards the massive wallscreen behind Prime Minister Grant as it flickered to life and displayed a galactic map. Spots of red, blue and green appeared across the map, the red areas covering the vast majority of the Galaxy with small but significant concentrations of blue and green in several separate places confined to one quadrant of the Galaxy.

"Thanks to the efforts of Ambassador Shiv, the Diplomatic Corp and the recent addition of Gryphon, the Alliance has come to comprise of five major worlds of industrial technology comparable to our own and twelve worlds of smaller populations and various industrial status that, although of low technological ability, provide the Alliance with significant manpower, mineral resources and strategic forward bases. Industrial output on Earth and the other four 'Forge worlds' is increasing exponentially, along with the training of ground troops and naval personnel."

"In the past three years, neither side has made any great advances into the oppositions territory, even though the System Lords possess a superior fleet in terms of numbers and striking power. We've managed to maintain this stalemate by keeping Bast and the various System Lords in her Union on the defensive, striking only where they are weak, never where they are strong. In addition to this, we have being careful to leave the Separatist faction of the Goa'uld alone, giving them no cause to unite with Bast and her followers."

"As per the primary strategy, we intend to maintain this status quo for as long as possible while we build our forces to a level that will allow us to begin Operation Spring Clean, a new series of offensive strikes against the System Lords designed to eliminate the Goa'uld fleet as an offensive force and liberate the numerous cultures that they currently rule over. We expect this to take anywhere from three to five years, best case scenario. Our worst case scenarios project this situation lasting as long as a hundred years but realistically, we expect Spring Clean to last from fifteen to twenty years."

As this figure sank into the awareness of the assembled heads of state, the stunned realization that they possibly faced another twenty years of war showed clearly upon their faces. O'Neill gave a slight, grim smile as his studied the Council members.

"I am confident that we can win this war but this isn't somebody we can just sweep aside in a couple of months, " He continued, hammering the point home. "The Goa'uld are a highly advanced race of parasites that command a massive fleet of ships and millions of troops. That fact that we are still here to discuss this is a testament to the skill of our soldiers, the internecine warfare that is rife among the System Lords and, of course, plain old dumb luck."

A small titter of nervous laughter swept through the chamber. Nobody ever liked to depend on luck but they were all just glad it seemed to be with them when it counted.

"Effectively, this conflict is currently at a stalemate." O'Neill continued. "We lack the strength to decisively take and hold Goa'uld territory and with one or two exceptions, the Alliance is made up of worlds under the Protected Planets Treaty, and thus, removed from direct threat of attack from the System Lords. With neither side able to destroy strategic enemy targets, this conflict has become a Cold War with both side making small strikes at assets they can attack without falling foul of the aforementioned 'rules', I suppose you could call it."

For the next fifteen minutes, O'Neill went over the various troop deployments, both on and off-world, the assignment of ships to the worlds under serious threat from the Goa'uld, the dispersion of the Fleet among the Alliance worlds and the implications of various strategies that demand that they maintain the status quo as it exists while they recruit more member worlds and expand their forces.

"...And that's the situation as it stands today, ladies and gentlemen." O'Neil finished. "Are there any questions?"

Several council members touched their computers, sending their request to be heard to the Chairperson. Elizabeth Grant looked at her display and read the first name off the list. "The Chair recognizes Prime Minister Montagne of France..."

The small, rotund Prime Minister inclined his head. "Thank you Madam Chair..." He turned his gaze to the center of the Chamber. "General O'Neill, the picture you paint is an uncertain one...once more I note the conspicuous absence of some of the more powerful alien races who purport to be our allies in this war. Have we made any more progress towards a true alliance with the advanced races, the Asgard, the Tollan, the Adenans...hell, even the Susparti...can't they see the benefits of the Alliance?"

O'Neill nodded resignedly. This matter was brought up in practically every major meeting. The Diplomatic Corp had spent a great deal of effort in the past five years trying to convince the more advanced races in the Galaxy to make a stand against the Goa'uld but they had received nothing more than polite disinterest. Disinterest from everyone that is except the Asgard and to some extent, the Tollan who, thanks to their numerous interactions with Stargate personnel, were beginning to approach a more practical attitude to Galactic relations. But then I'd always known the advanced races would be more pro-active if their comfortable, idyllic lifestyles were threatened.

"You're right, Mr Prime Minister. Most of the advanced races are so confident in their technological advantage over the Goa'uld that they are blinded to the fact that us 'lesser' races are not so fortunate. We cannot rely on them and we have no plans to do so, except for the Asgard, Mr Prime Minister. I can assure you, if it were not for extenuating circumstances, there would be any number of Asgard vessels in orbit at this very minute."

"Ah, you refer to the...'Replicators', General." Montagne clarified.

O'Neill nodded. "They are fighting for their Galaxy and ours and the last thing we want is to distract them from that fight, though you also may be aware that we actually dispatched a team of military advisors to help them in that war. I want to point out that the Asgard have laws that prevent them from giving us advanced technology, and that their Fleet Commander, Thor, managed to divert 'official' attention from their High Council when we recovered wreckage from the Asgard vessel that crashed into the Pacific ocean. With that act, they essentially gave us 'unofficial' permission to reverse engineer their technology and incorporate it into our ships. Combining Asgard tech with Human tech and that of the other space faring members of the Alliance, most notably that of the Sintesians, has allowed us to make massive strides forward in developing combat capable warships and planetary defenses."

Montagne and several other Council members grinned at the overt demonstration of alien political maneuvering. It made them think that Earth would fit in with the rest of the Galaxy just fine, assuming they survived to reach that point.

"I stand corrected then, General, the Asgard 'officially' protect us through treaties while 'unofficially' helping us out in any way they can without nullifying those same treaties." The Prime Minister concluded.

O'Neill nodded. "That's about right, sir."

Grant saw that the French Prime Minister had finished and looked to her display. Several ministers had disappeared from the query list, their questions having been asked by Montagne. "The Chair recognizes Prime Minister Kaneda of Japan."

The diminutive Prime Minister gave an abbreviated bow of thanks and frowned at O'Neill. "General, you say you are waiting until you have built your forces up before you begin a new offensive against the System Lords. If I may ask, what kind of timetable are you working to?"

O'Neill glanced at his aide, who accessed her computer to retrieve the relevant information. The wall display behind him changed and showed a projected order of battle and a rough outline of the offensive battle plan. O'Neill looked up at the Japanese Prime Minister. "Which any way you look at it, the System Lords outnumber us at least one hundred to one in terms of ships and manpower. Fortunately for us, this number is deceptive as the vast majority of their forces is firstly, kept tied down in pacification duty on occupied worlds and secondly, used as defensive and offensive forces against other System Lords."

Leaning forward, O'Neill tried to convey the precarious knife-edge the war was being conducted on. "Mr Prime Minister, since day one, we've only struck at the System Lords united under Bast's leadership, all the while using Tok'ra and Rebel Jaffa forces to create dissention among the other separatist System Lords. Keeping the majority of the Goa'uld from uniting is really the only thing that is keeping us alive at the minute."

"To answer your question, I currently have almost eighteen hundred thousand troops under arms here on Earth and another three million spread between the other eighteen worlds of the Alliance, this number does not include available troops native to the other worlds. The Navy currently comprises of sixteen destroyers, five battleships and three carriers. Fighter strength is, at the last count, thirty-two active duty squadrons of fighters and eighteen of bombers. The other worlds have begun construction of their own vessels using designs and technology we have shared with them, and the shipyards we have helped them to construct but they are still getting up to speed and they only have two squadrons of destroyers among them. For 'Spring Clean' to have any chance of overall success, it will take us another five to ten years of construction and training before I felt completely confident in declaring all out war with the System Lords."

* * * * * * * * * *

Two hours later, the Council meeting broke for lunch, the various ministers and aides scattering and meeting in groups of various factions and at varying levels of power. Chairman Grant ignored most of this and made her way from the dais towards O'Neill, who was conferring quietly with an Air Force Colonel.

As she approached, O'Neill and the colonel stood up and came respectfully to attention. "Chairman Grant..." O'Neill acknowledged.

Grant smiled kindly and gestured for them to sit and she claimed a chair in front of them. "Impressive presentation, General. You plan to command millions of men and women across a battlefield of a thousand star systems." She shook her head with no little wonder. "You think big, General, I'll give you that."

O'Neill gave a small nod. "We've lost a lot of people in this war, to date, ma'am. The casualties we'll see before this war is over will make that previous figure pale by comparison. I doubt I'll live long enough to see a Galaxy free of the Goa'uld but I can at least put us on course and get a few hits in of my own."

Grant's relaxed manner turned into something harder as she heard the General's words and saw his impassive demeanor. She had come to know O'Neill fairly well over the past six years since they had met at a high-level briefing a short time after Daniel Jackson's funeral. She had noticed that he had been hit hard by the loss and that the death of General Hammond less than three years ago had hit him just as hard, if not harder. He had an edge about him nowadays that made people's blood run cold sometimes.

As O'Neill had progressed in rank over the years, Hammond had steadily lost his health and gradually removed himself from all command operations, ceding his responsibilities to his protégé, as it were. First O'Neill took over as CINC-SGC(West) at Cheyenne Mountain, then after General Hammond had died peacefully in his bed, surrounded by his family and friends, O'Neill became SAC-SGC, Supreme Allied Commander of all Stargate operations, effectively making him one of the most important men in the Galaxy.

O'Neill was still jovial among his friends but those who knew him well had noticed the remoteness and detachment that appeared more and more in his bearing and manner. The man was effectively carrying the fate of the Galaxy on his shoulders but, as his friends might attest, it was steadily killing him, as it had Hammond.

Internally Grant rallied against the Fates that would place such a crushing task in one man's hands but she was not worried for the Galaxy. She knew that O'Neill would bear up under the strain and deliver them all from the threat of the System Lords. No, she was afraid that by the time the war was over, the man that they knew O'Neill to be would be lost to them.

"It's a terrible thing to know that your decisions hold such finality to those millions of men and women." She replied sadly.

Colonel Krupskaya, who had been sitting silently beside O'Neill, stirred slightly. "We understand the need, and the cost, Madam Chairman." She replied firmly. "We knew that when we put on our uniforms."

Grant nodded in something like awe at the woman whose words simply underscored the dedication of the people under O'Neill's command. She looked at O'Neill and took a deep breath. "General, I want to have a brief word with you about the upcoming meeting at the end of this month with the Monarchy on Gryphon."

O'Neill nodded in immediate understanding. "You want to go."

Grant smiled. "Yes." She replied, simply.

"I've already made the necessary arrangements, ma'am. Ambassador Shiv is already aware of your 'desire' to be present and has notified the relevant people on Gryphon." O'Neill smiled slightly. "Your security people aren't happy one bit, though."

She sighed in frustration. "The fate of the world revolves around that Stargate and I still haven't had a single damned trip through the thing! My security team still says that it is too much of a risk!"

Raising his hands in surrender, O'Neill chuckled. "Well, no longer, Ma'am. You now have clearance to proceed, just...watch the first step, it's a doozy."

Grant laughed out loud, causing a slight stir among the remaining diplomats in the Council Chamber. "Thank you, General. I shall see you later then."

She rose from her chair and made her way swiftly towards the exits with a very apparent spring in her step.

O'Neill watched her go and his smile turned into a frown as he remembered something from the morning's strategic briefing. "Colonel, isn't SG-Beta...?"

As usual, his aide had showed her supernatural talent for reading her bosses mind and was already accessing her PDA for the relevant information. "SG-Beta launched approximately thirty minutes ago, sir. According to the ops timeline, they should be commencing 'Long Punch' any time now."

With a small growl of frustration at being stuck on Earth instead of on the front lines, O'Neill started walking towards the exit. "We're done here for the day, Kathy, let's head to the damned Ring. I want to see how the operation goes."

Based in Cheltenham, the Ring, sometimes disparagingly referred to as the Doughnut, was the main headquarters for Britain's military command and control facilities and essentially the British answer to the Pentagon and when in this quarter of the world, it was O'Neill's preferred base of operations.

"Yes, sir." She replied firmly and, through her PDA, notified the General's driver to get ready for a fast transit.

* * * * * * * * * *

11:45 ZULU
Planet PX529, Territory of System Lord Melnos

Colonel Andy Thorn grimaced painfully as he threw himself bodily over an overturned cargo container. Staff blasts slammed into the container, the impact almost deafening in such close proximity. "I'm getting too old for this shit." He cursed to no one in particular as he quickly cleared and reloaded his P-90. The radio was filled with urgent calls for assistance from the soldiers of SG-Beta, who were spread throughout the forest in this small section of valley. Movement to his left caught Thorn's eye and he brought his weapon up defensively but just as quickly relaxed as his second in command threw himself to the ground alongside him in a cloud of dust.

"Howdy, Major, lovely day we're having, isn't?" Thorn greeted him cheerfully.

The deeply orange star beat its intense rays down upon the sparsely forested valley giving everything a distinct red hue that seemed appropriate considering the amount of bloodshed going on in the valley that lead away from extensive mining operations and a Pra'kesh construction facility.

Tok'ra spies had finally managed to locate the world where Bast was producing the Pra'kesh, the 'Scorpion' machines that were proving to be hellishly effective against the Spearhead and SGC troops. Almost as soon as General Carter had been given the co-ordinates, she had quickly gathered her forces and launched an attack.

The data the Tok'ra had been able to provide showed the Stargate situated in small open field, surrounded by thick forest, at the base of a low mountain range. The construction facility was situated on the other side of the mountains as a security measure against explosives being sent through the Stargate. A fairly wide valley, also thick with trees, wormed it's way through the mountain range for almost three kilometers before opening out into a level plain were what was essentially a small city composed of factories and living quarters, sat. The factories themselves were heavily guarded with a thick defensive belts and numerous Jaffa, all in addition to a single Goa'uld Mothership in orbit. In a straight up attack, it would have taken as many as five SG-Assault teams to make any kind of dent in the defenses and so the tactician's at Spearhead had found another way to make the attack using a new technique they had recently been experimenting with, codenamed Long Punch.

Colonel Thorn, Major Chernov and majority of SG-Beta had made a Stargate transit to PX529 and then proceeded on its mission, making its way through the valley, laying down tactical navigational beacons that were the key to 'Long Punch'. There had been only one more beacon to be placed when Murphy struck and all hell broke loose. A Jaffa patrol, scouting for an entire Cohort that was apparently returning from the outside the valley, had come across one of the eight man teams and shots were fired. Alerted to the presence of Earth soldiers in their midst, Jaffa were beginning to pour out of the factory and mines, leaving SG-Beta stuck in the middle of the valley with Jaffa in front and behind them.

Thorn had the sneaking suspicion that it might all have been a trap.

"I have had better days, Colonel!" Major Chernov replied grimly. "Captain Strathclyde believes he saw some Jaffa trying to get a Scorpion or two up and running back at the factory."

Colonel Thorn coughed in the thick dust the Major's fall had disturbed. "Shit. Get Third Platoon up here to provide cover with the 'chains' and 'chunkers'!" He ordered briskly, referring to the half-dozen small, light vehicles that SG-Beta had been given for this mission. Each Combat Assault Vehicle was essentially a three-man 4x4 armed with GAU-8 'chain' gun and a .50 caliber 'chunker' heavy machine gun. While armored against Jaffa infantry fire, they weren't tanks and they couldn't stand up to a Scorpion but they were the most powerful units Thorn had.

While the Major returned fire and called for Third Platoon over the radio, Thorn had pulled the last navigation beacon from his pocket. It essentially looked like an oversized pen, about six inches long and two centimeters thick. After twisting the top section to activate it, he pushed it into the dirt next to him, leaving the top two inches clear of the ground.

"You were supposed to put that over there, Colonel." Chernov commented evenly, nodding his head towards the twelve Jaffa firing from behind a small wall at the outermost edge of the Factory perimeter.

Thorn snorted in amusement. "Why don't you go over there and stick it in the ground then?" He shook his head slightly at the big Russian. "This is close enough."

Placing his finger to his earpiece, Thorn activated his radio unit. "Spearhead Command, Spearhead Command, this is Beta-Six-Actual...we are cut off, repeat, we are cutoff from the Stargate. We've laid down the final tac-nav beacon and the net is on-line, I suggest you commence Long Punch."

He smiled wryly. "I'd also be kind of obliged if you'd call the Fleet and ask them to pick us up."

11:55 ZULU
Command Center, Spearhead

In the Command Center, technicians monitored the battle from the UAV's orbiting high above the facilities. Sergeant Harris, sat at the primary console, was listening intently to the feed coming in over his headset.

"Report." Brigadier General Samantha Carter, current commander of Spearhead, ordered calmly.

Harris spun round in his chair. "We just received word from SG-Beta...the Colonel reports laying the last beacon but is now being cutoff from the Stargate. He recommends we launch now and asks that the Third Fleet task force retrieve them instead."

"Hell." Carter replied, consciously unclenching her fists that were balled tightly in frustration. "Alright, Sergeant, contact Admiral Kent, get him moving."

Sergeant Harris looked over at the technician sitting at the communication station and snapped his fingers. The tech nodded and began to type the necessary message into the computer that was incorporated into the network of long-range communication devices that had been appropriated from numerous Goa'uld sources and were now being used for Earth's benefit. Each planet and major capital ship in the Alliance was fitted with Human/Goa'uld hybrid communication equipment, allowing instantaneous communication across the Galaxy.

Carter turned towards her 2IC, Colonel DeSoto, who was stood beside her. "Commence Long Punch, Colonel."

DeSoto nodded and started giving orders into his headset radio. Two kilometers away at the Stargate Facility, the Stargate itself had been moved outside of the Facility, along a specially designed cradle that slid through a side door in the Gate Room. This feature was installed during the rebuilding of the Gate Facility after it was partially destroyed during the Jaffa attack on Spearhead, soon after they were operational. The Jaffa had demolished the Facility to allow transit of large vehicles, namely the Pra'kesh Scorpion tanks used in that battle. Colonel Lewis had noted after the battle, that being able to send their own vehicles through the Gate would require room to maneuver and so the Stargate Corp of Engineers had designed and built the mobile cradle when rebuilding the Stargate Facility on Spearhead.

About a hundred yards in front of the Stargate sat three large, rectangular missile packs, all of which were aimed at the active wormhole. The technicians receiving orders from the Colonel in the command center activated the firing system and waited. Seconds later, a specially modified Tomahawk cruise missile erupted from the first pack and flew straight into the Stargate. Seconds later, another missile flew outward from the second pack, swiftly followed by a third from the last pack. As soon as the third missile disappeared, another Tomahawk erupted from the first quad missile pack.

In the space of five minutes, twelve Tomahawk missiles were fired nine thousand light-years to attack the Pra'kesh factory.

* * * * * * * * * *

12:01 ZULU
ENS Ark Royal, 1000au from PX529

In the dimly lit Command and Control center onboard the ENS 'Ark Royal', Rear Admiral Kent, Commander of the Third Fleet suppressed a frown as he studied the massive holographic display of the Flag Plot in the center of the circular command center. The display was ringed with computer consoles, as was the outer bulkhead of the chamber. The display currently showed a wire frame representation of the planet with numerous red blips in orbit.

The Third Fleet had spent the past five hours waiting just outside the solar system, while SG-Beta launched its attack. Third Fleet, built along similar lines of the first two fleets in the Earth Navy comprised of the battleships ENS Montana and ENS Shinano, along with six destroyers that accompanied the carrier ENS Ark Royal. A the minute however, only the Montana and two destroyers had joined the Ark Royal at PX529 the rest had stayed behind to provide cover for Gryphon, Third Fleet's current duty station.

Having fought in several skirmishes and full on battles against the Goa'uld fleet, Rear Admiral Kent knew that his task force was more than a match for a single Goa'uld Hat'ak class Mothership, unfortunately, his scanners revealed two Hat'ak Class Motherships in high orbit above PX529, making their relative strengths far more even that he would have liked. Regardless, the urgent request for pickup from Colonel Thorn meant that the Third Fleet was now screaming in towards PX529 and a confrontation with the Goa'uld whose outcome would be far from assured.

The Ark Royal's Tactical Action Officer approached the Admiral, data-pad in hand. "Admiral..."

Kent turned away from the display to face the tall, almost gaunt, middle-aged man. "Yes, Commander Farrow?"

"The Elint section reports that we've encountered one of the Motherships before. It's apparently one of System Lord Ak'em's birds. SL-028 in our library." The TAO reported. The Elint, or Electronic Intelligence section, maintains a massive computer library of all the emission signatures from any and all spaceships an Earth vessel encounters, much like the library submarines keep on the noise signatures on other submarines, allowing them to recognize that same vessel if they ever cross it's path again. "The other bird's unknown to us but carries a similar signature to SL-028. Tactical is adding it to the library as SL-044 and is designating them Hostile 1 and Hostile 2, sir."

"Ak'em is it?" Kent repeated thoughtfully. "His people aren't the brightest bunch around. All right, Commander, launch the troopships now and send a Sabre squadron as escort. Order Captain Frost to take the Montana and the destroyer screen and engage the Mothership belonging to Ak'em."

He glanced at a secondary video screen from which his Flag Captain, Amanda Tyler, was observing events in C&C. She was currently up on the bridge, commanding the ship but maintained an open vid-link to Admiral Kent. "The Ark Royal is too thin skinned for that kind of fight so we will hold position here but we'll launch a bomber strike against the other Mothership, hopefully keeping it occupied. If we split them up and take them piecemeal, we might just survive this after all."

"Perhaps we should divert a flight of bombers to support SG-Beta's extraction?" Captain Tyler considered in reply.

Admiral Kent glanced at the tactical display and nodded. One flight of bombers wouldn't alter the equation up here much but it might help SG-Beta a lot more. "Agreed."

Commander Farrow nodded in acknowledgement and began to disperse orders to the fleet.

* * * * * * *

Onboard the bridge of the Goa'uld Mothership the humans had designated 'SL-028', Lord Akem was in a foul mood. Having been roused from his sarcophagus to learn that the Tau'ri soldiers had blasted through his defenses on the planet and were trying to destroy Bast's production facilities. The only good news at the minute was that his First Prime had the Tau'ri forces trapped and unable to escape.

He leaned forward in his throne and smiled grimly. "Move the ship above the co-ordinates of the trapped Tau'ri and prepare to fire upon the surface."

The Jaffa pilot bowed slightly in assent and activated the flight controls. The Mothership smoothly glided out of formation with the other vessel and moved to a lower orbit, nearer towards the planets surface.

"We are in position, my Lord." The Jaffa intoned.

Ak'em grinned and suppressed a desire to rub his hands in delightful anticipation. "Excellent, open..."

Before Ak'em could finish the command to open fire, the command console started beeping furiously. The Jaffa at the controls frowned and pressed several buttons and moved his hands across the interface. On the main screen, the scenic view of the planet from orbit was replaced by a tactical schematic of the inner solar system. Several red blips were moving rapidly towards the Mothership.

"What is it?" Ak'em demanded impatiently.

The Jaffa winced as he studied the displays. "It is a group of Tau'ri vessels, my Lord. They are heading this way." The console beeped once more. The Jaffa glanced at the display and turned back to Ak'em. "They are deploying fighters, my Lord."

Ak'em stood up, incensed and completely forgetting about the SG-Beta troopers on the surface. "Launch the udajeets! Destroy those ships!"

* * * * * * *

Thorn studied the Jaffa moving behind cover 15 meters across open ground. Neither side could make any headway without being slaughtered nor could SG-Beta retreat and so things had settled into a stalemate or at least a temporary one until the Jaffa brought up their big guns and managed to get a Scorpion or two up and running.

His radio crackled suddenly and Sgt Harris's voice, calling from Spearhead Command, filled the relative silence. "Beta-Six, Beta-Six, Tomahawk stream launched...repeat, we have launched the stream. Time on target, three minutes."

Thorn looked at Chernov knowingly and the Russian smiled broadly, even as he activated his own radio. "All Beta units, this is Major Chernov. Tomahawk's incoming! Fire in the hole, repeat, fire in the hole!"

As the two men settled down behind cover and waited for the Tomahawks to arrive, Thorn chuckled quietly at the Major who seemed to have a satisfied expression on his face. "Fire in the hole...?"

Chernov shrugged. "I don't get to say it all that often. I like to savor the moments when I can." He replied.

Thorn laughed outright. "I bet you practice saying it in front the mirror, as well."

Opening his mouth to deny any such thing, Chernov was interrupted by a steadily increasing whine of a group of small turbojet engines approaching fast. Both men grinned in anticipation and tucked themselves deeper into cover as the cruise missiles roared overhead.

* * *

Each cruise missile had emerged from the Stargate and immediately search for the navigational beacons SG-Beta had emplaced along the valley floor, allowing the intelligent weapons to leapfrog from beacon to beacon, maneuvering safely through the mountainous terrain to find the Pra'kesh factory.

As the stream of missiles turned onto the terminal leg of their journey, the system operators at Spearhead Command began to designate target for each missile using the UAV to communicate targeting instructions to each missile.

Had the Jaffa known this, they could have tried to shoot down the UAV and blunted the accuracy of the attack immeasurably but as it stood, the Jaffa had no idea of the nature of the command and controls systems of the Tau'ri and thus, the cruise missiles were told what to aim for with deadly accuracy.

The world seemed to explode as the first wave of three tomahawks nosed downward and fanned out, each targeting a major component factory building. Three massive explosions blossomed outward, the walls and roof of each building erupting in a ball of flame. Shockwave after shockwave rippled outward and over the battlefield as each cruise missile found it's designated target with unerring accuracy and complete devastation.

Four waves and twelve Tomahawks later, relative silence returned and the Jaffa soldiers rose from cover to take stock of what had happened. A number of buildings still stood but these were exceptions for all of the factory facilities and assembly buildings were utterly destroyed.

"All right!" One of the Beta troopers called out jubilantly over the radio.

Colonel Thorn nodded in agreement as he studied the wreckage of the Pra'kesh factory with satisfaction. Major Chernov, however, was less concerned with the success of the cruise missiles than he was with the relatively untouched Jaffa army now climbing out from cover.

"Colonel..." The Russian called out. "Having nothing left to defend, I think the Jaffa have decided on an all-out attack."

With a full-throated roar, the massed ranks of Jaffa rushed out into the open field between them and the Beta soldiers, staff weapons firing from the hip. They were met with a wall of bullets as the thinly spread line of SG-Beta opened fire.

"I wonder if this is how your Custer felt?" Chernov cursed as two Beta troopers skidded up next to his and Thorn's position with a heavy machine gun and began to fire steadily into the enemy ranks. Not only were Jaffa charging towards them from the remains of the factories but also that other group of Jaffa was still closing in from the entrance to the valley. SG-Beta was being hit on two fronts and if Fleet didn't pick them up soon, the Assault team was going to need some new personnel.

Thorn, about to reply, closed his mouth and cocked his head to one side as his ears noticed a new sound. "Screw Custer! Here comes the cavalry!"

Five CAV's seemed to fly out of the forest and into the no man's land between the hastily drawn lines of each side. The gunners in each combat assault vehicle swung their weapons towards the Jaffa and fired as one, cutting into the enemy like a scythe, raking their fire across the massed Jaffa and leaving the dead strewn across the open field like garbage.

The fearless Jaffa charged onwards, focusing their fire on the assault vehicles. The CAV's, however, were too fast and well armored against staff blasts. Skidding wildly, CAV's cut heavily into the onrushing Jaffa and the troops of SG-Beta breathed a sigh of relief as the CAV's gave them breathing room to regroup, gather their dead and prepare for pick-up.

That relief quickly proved to be short-lived as two CAV's suddenly exploded without warning. Not knowing where the fire had come from, the three remaining CAV's scattered like startled quail and zipped behind the scattered remains of the factories. The radio net crackled with a frantic call from Captain Strathclyde who was high up on the ridge of the valley with a sniper team, providing observation and long-range fire support... "It's a bloody Scorpions! I count four, repeat, four surviving Scorpions coming in from the west."

The captain had barely finished his report when Colonel Thorn spotted the first Scorpion round the shattered remains of an assembly building. It steadily turned towards the Beta troops and began to fire into their ranks.

Major Chernov gave a vile curse and activated his radio. "All units, fall back to point Charlie, repeat, fall back to point Charlie for pick-up. CAV section, concentrate your fire on the Scorpions and cover our retreat."

As the various units of SG-Beta responded, a new voice broke in on the command frequency.

"Beta-Six, Beta-Six, this Pegasus flight of four, inbound, call sign 'Hammer'..." A confident, upper-class British voice announced. "What is your situation, over?"

* * * * * * *

Lt Commander Scott, previously of the Royal Navy but now of Third Fleet, Earth Navy Fighter Corp, pushed his hand controller forward, sending the Pegasus bomber into a steep dive as he passed into the atmosphere of PX529. Glancing back momentarily, he saw that the other three bombers of his flight were still in formation.

Looking directly up, towards space, he could see the numerous trails of the slower Orca transports and the nimble Sabre fighters as they entered the atmosphere at a shallower angle.

"Hammer-One, this is Beta-Six, it's good to hear your voice." Colonel Thorn replied over the radio. "All SG-Beta units are falling back to nav point Charlie. We are fully engaged on two fronts but our main concern is the four surviving Scorpion tanks closing in on us from what remains of the factory. We were supposed to have Tomahawk's supporting us for this eventuality but the Jaffa control the Gate and are blowing away anything that comes through. We need you to take them out, Hammer..."

The ground seemed to fill the entire view as the bombers lost altitude rapidly. Scott clenched his guts tight and his systems operator sitting behind him grunted audibly as he pulled the Pegasus sharply out of his dive. They had inertial dampers on the craft but even they couldn't fully damp a 20g turn in atmosphere. Suddenly, they were flying straight and level, less than one hundred feet off the deck, at close to Mach 5. Hammer-Two, -Three and -Four were tucked in tight behind Hammer-One, having maintained formation even through the dive and abrupt leveling off.

"Roger that, Beta-Six. We'll take care of the Scorpions, we've got four JDAM's with their names on them, just get to nav point Charlie and get ready for pickup. Orca's are enroute. Hammer-one, out."

* * * * * * *

As the massive capital ships closed ponderously, the swifter fighters sped towards each other with deadly intent. The Motherships had both launched their full complements of Death Gliders, close to sixty fighters in all. Twelve had broken off towards the planet to intercept the transports, fighter escorts and bombers assigned to rescue SG-Beta but the rest had headed straight towards the three full squadrons of Sabres and two squadrons of Pegasus bombers.

The senior fighter commander, Lt Colonel Xi Peng watched his 'Heads Up Display' intently as the range between the two clouds of fighter closed rapidly. "Get ready for the Gliders to make their move!" He ordered over the 'all fighters' communication channel.

As the range closed to 2,000 km, the formation of Death Glider's broke apart into small, two ship elements that made radical maneuvers while continuing to close the range. Peng snorted in reluctant respect. The Jaffa may have crap equipment but they were smart and gutsy. Apart from the shields they now mounted, the Death Gliders were essentially the same craft the System Lords had been using for almost a thousand years. The fighters and bombers of the Earth Navy Fighter Corp looked superficially similar to their initial designs of almost ten years ago but underneath the surface, they were very different animals.

The F-401 MkIII Sabre Space Superiority fighter no longer carried the replica Death Glider energy cannons but two light ion cannons, similar to those mounted in the capital ships of the fleet. More importantly, a little less than a year ago, for long range striking power, the tech's back home had finally delivered the Anti-Fighter Missile. The AFM's were like AMRAAMs but instead of moveable vanes for steering in atmosphere, they had maneuvering thrusters and a heavy flechette warhead. The AFM's would close in on an enemy fighter and then exploded, sending a spray of dense metal outward, causing serious damage to any fighter in the flechette's path.

When first used in combat, the AFM had cut a swath through the ranks of the Death Glider forces and on the whole, the AFM was responsible for a lot of the successes of the Earth Navy to date. It hadn't taken long, however, for Hek'at and his Jaffa to work out a few counter-tactics that, although not overly spectacular, did reduce the effectiveness of the AFM by a fair margin. One other downside was that the flechette warheads were pretty useless against Motherships.

But since the Death Gliders had no long-range missiles themselves, the Sabre's could fire their Anti-Fighter Missiles with impunity until the Jaffa closed the range sufficiently for the Glider's to engage with their energy cannons.

As the range fell to 1,500 km, Lt Colonel Peng calmly and with little fanfare, gave the order to fire. A massive wave of missiles rippled out from the Earth Navy fighters, and in the frictionless, vacuum of space, accelerated at insane velocities towards the Death Gliders.

The Jaffa could do nothing but wrench their Gliders into hard turns, hoping to get out of the path of the exploding flechette missiles. Many Jaffa evaded successfully but a significant percentage was still destroyed, enough to even the numbers between the two forces. The Jaffa, however, were well trained and although shook by their losses, they regrouped swiftly and continued to bore in, to close the gap before the Earth Navy fighters could fire another wave of AFMs.

Peng was cheered immensely at the results of the AFM but acknowledged that the Jaffa they were facing were well trained and had regrouped in good order, even though word from up high said they belonged to a second rate System Lord.

Shaking off these errant thoughts, Peng shifted tighter into his cockpit for there was no more time to think as the two clouds of fighters met in a flurry of gunfire and explosions.

* * * * * * * *

The ENS Montana swept in towards Akem's Mothership, gun batteries blazing. The Montana, an 'Ares' class battleship, was a rectangular vessel, almost 1400 meters in length, with a tapered bow and smooth edges, giving it a 'monolithic' appearance. Over twice as big as a 'Prometheus' class destroyer, the Montana mounted twenty 'first generation' ion cannons, in ten twin mount turrets. Three turrets lined the dorsal spine, three line the ventral 'belly' and two were mounted on each side of the massive vessel. Though inferior to the Tollan ion cannon and not quite as good as Goa'uld energy weapons, they were very effective in large broadsides.

White blue bolts of ionized energy streamed out from the battleship and flew with deadly accuracy into the Mothership SL-028 or Hostile 1; it's golden shield coruscating with azure energy as it struggled to repel the attack. Replying in kind, orange blasts of plasma burst from the main guns on the Mothership and smashed into the shields of the Montana.

Captain Frost gripped the bridge rail tighter as the ENS Montana shook hard from the impacting weapons fire. "Status report!" He barked over the noise of the battle.

Commander Lui, his XO, was leaning over a computer display. "Forward shields are at 50% and dropping fast, but Hostile 1 is concentrating its fire on us, completely ignoring the destroyers."

Realizing what the destroyer commanders had in mind, Frost smiled grimly.

The two destroyers ENS Gorbachev and ENS Akagi had, ignored and unopposed, raced in behind the Goa'uld Mothership and, targeting the rear shields, opened fire.

* * * * * * * *

Lord Ak'em scowled furiously as his Mothership shook hard from the pounding the Tau'ri vessel was inflicting.

'Their largest ship is still no match for a Goa'uld vessel' he thought angrily. 'Yet, that they should have ships at all is infuriating! Apophis was a fool to let these Tau'ri live so long...'

"Divert all reserve power to the forward shields!" he ordered.

The Jaffa manning the main console nodded once and complied with the order. A second Jaffa was stood behind him, at the weapons console that had risen out of the floor. "My lord, the Tau'ri battleship's shields have collapsed."

"Excellent!" Ak'em cried out. "Target all weapons upon their power core and destroy them!"

"Kree!" The second Jaffa replied, his hands moving to enter new targeting instructions when the Mothership rocked incredibly hard and his console exploded in his face, sending him flying backed, narrowly missing Lord Ak'em.

"What is happening?" Ak'em shouted out, holding on to his throne as the ship rocked again and again with increasing ferocity.

The first Jaffa had a death grip on the main console. "The Tau'ri destroyers, my Lord!" He cried out. "They've penetrated our rear shields and are causing serious damage to the hull! Rear shields are gone...secondary systems are off-line! The Tau'ri battleship is opening fire again!"

The Mothership shook even worse than before. The ceiling of the bridge exploded and several support struts collapsed in a shower of sparks. "Weapons are off-line! The reactor is going critic..."

His litany of damaged systems was cut-off as the Mothership's power core overloaded after its cooling system failed. The Mothership seemed to glow briefly before exploding in a massive shockwave, sending shattered pieces of hull in all directions and sending the Earth Navy ships reeling.

* * * * * * * *

Captain Frost wiped the cut above his eye with his sleeve and staggered to his feet. "Damage report!"

The younger voice of Lt Commander Paresh, the Tactical Action Officer, stood up from the dead body of Commander Lui and moved to the main console behind the command chair. "Shields are down. Engineering's trying to bring them back but...we're hurt bad, sir. Main engines are off-line, and ion turret 2 is destroyed and turrets 4 and 5 are badly damaged. Hyperdrive is okay but we've got substantial hull damage in frames 10 through 22, sir, and without a complete integrity check, I figure it's a 50/50 chance of tearing the ship apart if we try and jump to hyperspace."

"Status of the remaining Mothership?" Frost asked, staring out the bridge viewport. Barely visible were the fighters and bombers swarming around the remaining Mothership and fighting the remaining Jaffa Death Gliders.

Lt Commander Paresh shook his head. "They've taken substantial damage to their shields and minor hits to their weapons but they're still in fair shape." He looked over at the Flight Ops officer who was furiously monitoring the fight.

She felt the combined stare of the Lt Commander and the Captain and looked up briefly. "The damned Jaffa pilots have done a bang up job of keeping our fighters and bombers occupied." She explained, her strong British accent emphasizing each word. "They've kept good discipline and created a defensive perimeter we've had a hard time punching through, even with the AFMs."

Captain Frost shook his head. "We learn, they learn..."

"The 'Gorbachev' and the 'Stewart' are moving into a position between us and Hostile 2, sir." Paresh's voice urgently cut in. "Captain, SL-043 has started to move. She's breaking off, pulling away from the planet..."

Frost looked up at the flickering tactical display but said nothing, watching the icon representing SL-043 move slowly away from the battle and the slowly expanding filed of debris that used to be Mothership SL-028.

"They're breaking off!" The Flight Ops officer announced. "The fighters are disengaging and pulling back to the Mothership."

"Do we follow?" Paresh asked softly.

Captain Frost shook his head slowly. "Much as I'd like to, we've taken too much damage. No, let them leave, they know they've nothing left to fight for here with the factory destroyed and odds are, we'd cause too much damage to make it profitable for them to try and finish us off."

Lt Commander Paresh finally saw it. "A stalemate."

Frost nodded and moved over to his command chair. Sitting heavily in it, he pressed a button on the armrest control pad. "Bridge to Engineering, get some of your people out on the hull and make sure we'll survive a hyper jump."

"Aye, Captain." The Chief Engineer replied.

The Captain then turned his chair to face the Communications officer who was nursing a rather large bruise on the side of his face. "Notify the Admiral, tell him we've secured PX529 but I'd like to get our people and the Fleet outta here before SL-043 returns with more of his buddies."

* * * * * * * *

Colonel Thorn stood on the lip of the ramp of the Orca transport as his troops streamed onboard, carrying their wounded and dead with them. He surveyed the valley floor with detachment; the scorched landscape that surrounded the patch of grass upon which the Orca transports had landed was still smoking in places.

As the transports landed and SG-Beta retreated onboard, Hammer flight had been busy sending a JDAM into each Scorpion, destroying them totally. After which, a couple of strafing runs in which the two Pegasus bombers had dropped almost four tons of napalm each, upon the legions of Jaffa.

"So much for 'Long Punch'..." Major Chernov commented quietly as the other transports began to lift off.

Colonel Thorn nodded in wry agreement. The 'Long Punch' test was supposed to have been a minimum exposure, maximum effect strike and instead had become an intense ground action with one hell of a space fight thrown in to boot.

* * * * * * * *

13:46 ZULU
Situation Room, The Ring, England

General O'Neill shook his head wonderingly as he read the initial after action report Admiral Kent had transmitted. Seven Sabres, three Pegasus bombers and heavy damage to the ENS Montana in exchange for one Mothership and several squadrons of Death Gliders. SG-Beta's losses were put at forty-two dead, eleven wounded in exchange for almost a legion of Jaffa, numerous Scorpions and their entire construction facility. Tragic that these casualties were, they hadn't seen exchange rates like this since the start of the war, and this victory would improve morale immensely.

"Well, even though Long Punch fell way short of expectations, I think we can chalk this one as a win for our side." O'Neill commented as he placed the pad down on the table. Numerous military chiefs from various countries were sat around the Situation Room, taking advantage of O'Neill's presence at the Ring to go over the results of the Long Punch mission and the overall developing strategic situation.

A Chinese Colonel shook his head slightly. "I wouldn't consider 'Long Punch' a failure this quickly, General. Granted, everything went to hell this time...next time, we shall do better." The officer from the People's Republic had taken a vested interest in the 'Long Punch' project. Traditionally, the People's Liberation Army had relied on 'human wave' style attacks, regardless of the cost in lives but now, with the combining of most of Earth's military forces, China was slowly modernizing its forces and its doctrine and the idea of expending material instead of people appealed more and more to the new generation of Chinese officers.

On of the British Brigadiers, a gaunt faced man with an impressive moustache leaned forward as he spoke up for he was also connected with the Long Punch project. 'Colonel Lee is right, General, we simply need to refine the deployment procedures. With time, I think this might be a very effective weapon."

An Indian Major frowned slightly. "An additional weapon, perhaps, but not one that will replace having men and women on the front lines."

O'Neill smiled slightly in agreement as he sat back and watched the military men and women from over twenty nations bat ideas back and forth about how best to deploy their new weapons on future battlefields.





continued in part 2...