Spearhead: All The King's Men

by Darksider

Bast has turned the tide of the war at Gryphon and now levels her sights upon Earth.

2. Part 2

Chapter 3
Hell Hath No Fury...

18:58 ZULU
February 5th 2010
SGC(West), Cheyenne Mountain, Earth

General O'Neill watched the clock in the Command Centre expectantly. As it flickered to '18:59 ZULU' he turned to Sgt Hiller, who was again on duty at the command console. "Sgt, bring the Iris to Level 1."

"Aye, sir." Sgt. Hiller replied. He typed a series of commands into his console and leaned to his right, placing his hand on the palm print scanner and entering his security code. The computer beeped recognition and the Iris shuddered slightly as its internal mechanisms flexed the centre of the Iris outward to its Level 1 setting.

About eight years ago, the SGC had come under direct attack after Apophis had managed to penetrate the original Iris with a specially developed acid compound. In response, the Scientific Support Division had come up with a more advanced Iris that could not only close up in front of a Stargate wormhole, preventing anything larger than a molecule from exiting yet still vulnerable to the acid, but also flex inward, activating the Stargate's internal safety systems and preventing a wormhole from being able to form at all.

The clock flickered once more, showing '19:00 ZULU' and the chevrons suddenly glowed with power, initiating a subspace field and allowing a wormhole to suddenly form. Though the Iris prevented the matter stream from exploding outward, the area behind the Stargate lit up with reflected light.

"We're receiving a GDO signal." Sgt. Hiller reported a moment later. "It's the SGC on Sintesia, sir."

Stood in his dress uniform, the rows of campaign awards thick on his chest, O'Neill nodded satisfactorily. Right on time. "Open the Iris and let them through."

As Sgt Hiller opened the Iris, O'Neill walked out of the command centre and down to the Gate room with his aide, Colonel Katherine Krupskaya in tow.

The soldiers defending the Gate room were filing out of the opposite entrance as O'Neill entered the Gate room. The Marine Honour guard was already in position, rifles at the ready, lining the bottom of the ramp.

The wormhole rippled suddenly and the hulking bear-like form of Admiral J'Thuk and petite form of Admiral Serena walked out of the quicksilver pool of light, an aide for each Admiral quickly following behind them.

The Stargate disengaged and the Marine Seargent at the head of the line came to an even stiffer attention than before. "Admiral J'Thuk, Sintesian Navy, arriving."

Admiral J'Thuk's snout stretched back in a smile which was very similar to a human's except much more ferocious looking. There was, however, no mistaking the amusement in those intelligent eyes as he strode down the ramp and held out a thick, three-fingered hand that O'Neill shook firmly, having been the one to teach the Admiral that particular human custom. O'Neill remembered with amusement how unsurprising J'Thuk had found it when O'Neill had relay the story behind the handshake, about how it was used between two men to show that they carried no weapons in their hands and that they came in peace.

Barely turning a hair at the sight of a grizzly bear in an Admiral's uniform, the Sergeant announced the next arrival with ease. "Admiral Serena, Polaris Navy, arriving."

As Admiral J"Thuk stepped aside, O'Neill greeted the diminutive woman in front of him with an old school grace no suspected him of having. The people of Polaris were elfin-like in appearance. All were light of build and short, the tallest Polarisian on record having reached a massive 4 feet, 11 inches. That, however, belied their fierceness on the field of combat. They may be small but they were mean and fast and pound for pound, he'd match them against anybody in the Galaxy.

"Welcome to Earth, once again." O'Neill began. "Admiral Patterson is already in the Vault, with Admiral Marakesh and a late addition to our meeting, Rath from Tok'ra Intelligence, so unless you need to refresh yourselves after your long trip...?"

Admiral Serena gave a very un-ladylike snort. "That razor sharp wit's getting a little dull there, Jack, wouldn't you say? I have a whetstone you can borrow if you'd like?"

O'Neill frowned as J'Thuk rumbled with laughter. "Hrrraaa, I guess you should have raised your shields first, Jack, before going on the offensive..."

Shaking his head with small but growing amusement, Jack began to walk out of the Gate room, towards the 'Vault'. "Tell me why we're allies again?"

* * * * * * * * *

The Vault was a large chamber filled with strategic displays centred upon a massive conference table. The tabletop itself doubled as an interactive display unit, allowing an overview of any imagery, tactical or strategic display or just plain data manipulation. The Vault was used, not only by the various Fleet commanders for large-scale operational planning but by the Alliance Military Command, who were, with the addition of the Tok'ra, Rath, all in the room now.

As Colonel Krupskaya directed their various aides to seats around the edge of the room, O'Neill moved to the closest chair at the table and sat down. Admiral Serena sat down next to him as Admiral J'Thuk moved along several seats, trying to find space to fit his massive bulk. Admiral Patterson was already seated on the opposite side of the table, deep in discussion with Admiral Marakesh. Rath was stood near a console, idly studying the data contained in the base computer available to access by someone with medium level access like himself.

O'Neill ignored him for the moment since it became apparent he didn't want to sit down immediately. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. We weren't due for another strategy session for at least another three weeks but recent developments have forced us to bring that meeting forward."

J'Thuk leaned forward gingerly, not wanting to crush the chair beneath him with his bulk. "Not a problem, Jack, but I'll admit to being more than a little curious about what's going on."

O'Neill turned his head to face Rath who suddenly found himself under the attention of practically the entire room. Sniffing slightly and in that particularly arrogant, Tok'ra way, Rath moved towards the table, evenly away from any of the others and sat down.

"Two day's ago, Tok'ra Intelligence learned of a massive offensive launched by one of Bast's trusted lieutenants, Lady Amun'sul. Amun'sul has been fighting against the Separatist System Lord Lady Morte for a long time and now with the help of another Unionist, Lady Asphe'kaht, Amun'sul managed to achieve total surprise and annihilated almost 50% of Lady Morte's fleet. Around 35% of the remainder of her fleet went over to Amun'sul, the rest ran straight to Lord Yu."

Everyone at the table, with the exception of O'Neill who had already heard the report, looked at each other anxiously. Admiral Serena was the first one to speak up. "How did she manage to achieve total surprise? Surely Lady Morte had picket vessels patrolling her borders?"

Rath shrugged. "There were considerable patrols in place but we have no clue as to how she achieved their destruction other than overwhelming firepower and total surprise. The only thing we know is that Lady Morte wasn't the most able leader when it came to fighting. It is very likely she had let her guard down and as a result, her security was lax."

Admiral Marakesh stroked his beard thoughtfully. "This changes the strategic situation immensely."

"Understatement." J'Thuk grunted in reply as he tapped the surface of the table, bringing up a representation of a keyboard. His massive but surprisingly dexterous, paw-like hands began to input commands into the interface rapidly. The rest of the surface of the table changed from a display of polished wood to an ultra high resolution display of the Galaxy. A box appeared in a small section of the spiral arm near the Core and expanded, filling the entire table with the enlarged area of space. Coloured areas began to appear, delineating the various territories. A small section flashed red and faded away, merging with a nearby territory, expanding by more than double the size. "By eliminating Morte, Bast has gained additional resources and has also shortened her front line against the Separatists considerably."

"Yu's probably pissed." Admiral Serena added grimly and then looked up at O'Neill. "All your recent work with Spearhead on spreading Bast's forces even thinner has been for nought, General. She's now got enough ships to hit Earth. Hard."

O'Neill called up his own tabletop display interface and brought up the new estimate of Bast's available reserves. The numbers made him wince. "Admiral Patterson?"

The Admiral of the Fleet had been listening to his fleet commanders hash the problem out silently, giving himself time to try and come up with a solution. "It's a bloody mess, sir." Patterson replied formally. "By our own estimates, and they're likely to be low, Bast will probably hit us with as many as six Shal'kra's and almost twenty Hat'ak's and you can lay bloody good odds she'll bring the 'War Hammer' along with her."

Everybody winced at the mention of Bast's Dhan'hak Class Command-ship. At over 6km in diameter, only the most powerful of System Lords could afford to build, crew and maintain one. Tok'ra Intelligence only knew of seven that had ever been built; Bast's 'War Hammer', the 'Dragon's Breath' belonging to Yu and another three of the monstrous vessels that belonged to other Separatists. Then there was the 'Dhan'hak' that belonged to Ra, which was destroyed by the naquada-enriched nuclear weapon transported on board by O'Neill, vaporising Ra and the elite of his Jaffa. The last one belonged to Apophis, which was also destroyed by O'Neill and SG-1 before Spearhead was formed when adrift and out of control, it crashed into Sokar's fortress planet.

After letting everyone absorb his statement, Patterson resumed his analysis quietly. "With the kind of force she can now bring to bear, I cannot guarantee a successful defense of Earth without every ship we have in the Alliance. Even then..."

O'Neill closed his eyes in the ensuing silence. Only the sound of the various technicians manipulating their consoles could be heard in the Vault as the General tried to fight back the despair that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Will there be any objections from your governments if we requisition every ship that can fight from your various navies?" O'Neill finally asked quietly, addressing Marakesh, J'Thuk and Serena.

They glanced at one another and it was J'Thuk that answered first. "Speaking as head of the Sintesian Navy, no. They'll be some noise from certain elements in our respective governments, no doubt, but we owe Earth a lot. You're the key to this Alliance and if Earth falls, the Alliance will be crippled. Maybe fatally so." The Admiral's bear-like features frowned, his tufted ears twitching with tension.

Admiral Serena grimaced as a thought occurred to her. "No doubt our governments will want re-assurance that Bast intends to attack Earth for if the Alliance Navy sits in this system while Bast takes out Sintesia, Polaris or Entrica, the psychological damage to the Alliance will be catastrophic."

As she finished Admiral Marakesh looked around the table and sighed deeply. "Regardless, we all know that Bast sees Earth as a cornerstone of the Alliance and its primary driving force. Maybe that's not as true as it was in the beginning but we can't take the chance of losing your world." The olive-skinned, barrel-chested Admiral stiffened in his chair. "We will send the orders out as soon as we return home. Everything we have shall be sent to Earth's defence."

O'Neill nodded gratefully. "Thank you, all. Co-ordinate with Admiral Patterson, he'll integrate whatever fighting ships you can scrape together into our defence plan. I have to leave now, I need to notify my government and prepare the rest of the world for the biggest wake-up call it's ever had."

As O'Neill stood up from the table, the other Admiral's quickly rose to their feet in an unexpected gesture of respect. O'Neill, deeply moved, tried but couldn't smile past the tightness in his throat and tried convey his thanks by meeting the gaze of his commanders.

He strode out of the Vault, head high and back straight, a newfound sense of strength filling him, pushing back hard at the despair that clouded his horizon like a storm. Without a word, his aide Colonel Krupskaya caught up with him and followed closely on his heels.

"Kathy..." He asked expectantly.

His long time aide smiled fondly at the man who had stood between Earth and eternal slavery from day one. "I've contacted Greenwich. The notifications are going out now. The emergency meeting of the World Council is set for 24:00 ZULU. The Council whip anticipates a full house. I also took the liberty of informing Major Sanchez to begin preparations for activation of 'Insurance Policy' within the next eight hours."

A small smile broke O'Neill's countenance. "You do good work, Kathy." She nodded seriously in reply, as he turned grim. "Now get me to the Ring, fast. We need the world's armed forces to make ready for war."

* * * * * * * * * * *

23:42 ZULU
Emergency Meeting, United Earth World Council Headquarters, Greenwich, England

Russian Premier and Chairwoman of the World Council, Iliana Kutsov, suppressed a yawn and smiled in greeting as the Malaysian, Australian and South African heads of state walked into the Council Chambers and then began to make their way to their respective seats, bringing the room to full capacity with all 140-odd heads of state present. Looking at the clock, she realized everybody had arrived early. Mentally shrugging the idle thought off, she banged her gavel twice, giving half the room a welcome wake-up jolt.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you all for coming to this emergency meeting of the Council. I wish only to remind you that this is now an Alpha-level briefing and as such, is not subject to discussion among people below Alpha-level clearance."

A few nods of impatience came from among the council members and smiling slightly, she looked toward O'Neill who stood, still in full dress uniform, to one side of the room. "General O'Neill..." She called out, gesturing to center of the floor.

O'Neill nodded tightly and walked forward. Unobtrusively, Colonel Krupskaya dimmed the lights and activated the wall screen panels.

"Council members, approximately six hours ago, we learned of a battle between the Goa'uld Union and the Separatists that resulted in a Union victory. That Union victory has changed the strategic situation drastically. By our estimates, Bast has now managed to free up enough ships and manpower to allow her to make a devastating strike on one of the 'Forge Worlds' of the Alliance."

President Kinsey suppressed a groan and stood up, automatically garnering the attention of everyone. "What you mean, General, is that she coming here, to Earth, earlier than you anticipated with more ships than you anticipated."

O'Neill purposely unclenched his fists and tired to remain calm. "Close, Mr. President. They are indeed coming a lot sooner than anticipated but we, the entire Alliance military command, are still confident of a successful defense." He noticed the disbelieving looks and pushed forward. "It won't easy and it certainly won't be bloodless but we are recalling every ship in the Alliance and we honestly believe we stand a good chance of victory."

"Like at Gryphon?" The Chinese Premier Tang Sun called out.

O'Neill shook his head. "A superficially similar situation that in reality is very different. We have planetary defense systems in every major city on the planet in addition to orbital mines and weapon platforms and with a little luck, we will have the entire Navy, all three Fleets, in addition to Planetary Defence Fighter Corp defending Earth. No, sir, the forces are more even than mere numbers suggest."

The German Chancellor, Hans Broder, leaned forward intently. "Do you intend to activate 'Insurance Policy'?"

Hesitating, O'Neill winced internally. His answer could be implied as a lack of confidence in the situation but there was no other choice. "I am."

The Council Chamber broke into murmurs of disquiet.

"Regardless of what you believe, 'Insurance Policy' is exactly that, a policy against the opinion of the military that we can successfully defend Earth." O'Neill reaffirmed. Some of the politico's didn't look convinced but O'Neill pushed forward regardless. "Evacuation of all 'Policy' personnel and material to the Alpha and Beta sites will begin as soon as you provide me with your approval, as well as full activation of your various country's armed forces as we go to a Global Defcon 1."

A sober Council greeted this remark and it was Premier Kutsov who spoke into the silence that followed. "I think we can all agree that the General is doing everything necessary and that we have full confidence in him and his people, as well as all our men and women around the world that are going to fight and die in our defence."

"Hear, hear." Several Council members called out simultaneously.

Without warning, the Prime Minister of New Zealand, with a sober expression, stood as a gesture of respect. Another head of state, this time from Bulgaria stood up a second later, followed quickly by Premier Kutsov. Slowly at first, but then in small groups, the Council members began to stand in silence. In less than a minute the entire Chamber stood silently, their determination filling the air and their respect for O'Neill shone clearly.

Dumbstruck and not entirely sure how to respond to the people he had casually dismissed as annoyances so often, he assumed a stiff parade stance and brought his right hand up in a perfect parade ground salute. Silence reigned for several seconds and then, without a word, he spun round on his heel and strode out of the Council Chamber, ready for war.

* * * * * * * * *

05:11 ZULU
February 6th 2010
Third Fleet, Adenan Territory

A sea of twisted and melted wreckage drifted across space, some of it recognizably from Earth Navy vessels, most was clearly Goa'uld in origin. It was the remnants of a battle, the end result of four days of pursuit, in a seemingly endless pursuit across the stars, culminating in an hour's worth of incredible violence. Amid the wreckage, the battered but relatively intact Third Fleet floated victorious. Repair drones flitted across the hull of the massive warships, replacing armour and components even as damage control teams moved ceaselessly amid the tangled internal compartments, trying to restore some hull integrity to the areas of the ships open to space.

In the Command Center of the ENS Ark Royal, flagship of the Third Fleet, Admiral Kent leaned tiredly on the back of his chair as he studied visuals from the external cameras, purposely ignoring the personnel casualty reports sitting on his lap.

The scouts that O'Neill had asked to be sent into Adenan space had been tracking a Goa'uld task force for two days as it began an offensive to destroy the Adenan homeworld. The task force, consisting of six Hat'ak's had pushed deep, encountering light resistance and showing no signs of stopping. It was obvious the Adenan fleet had been caught out of position and it was exactly the situation O'Neill had anticipated and Kent had been waiting for.

He had ordered Third Fleet on a speed run to intercept the Goa'uld task force before it hit the Adenan homeworld.

The Jaffa commander had been as surprised as it was possible to be at the sight of Tau'ri ships come screaming out of hyperspace, their weapons already blazing white fire at his ships. Their ion cannons had been concentrated upon a single Hat'ak, which subsequently exploded in short order, jolting the Jaffa out of their collective shock. Their commander ordered the Motherships to evade and they had made an immediate jump away from the Tau'ri, towards a nebula, where they hoped to lose their pursuers.

Admiral Kent sighed as he recalled the days of tense waiting as he launched wave after wave of Sabre fighters and Pegasus bombers into the nebula to flush their quarry out.

The Jaffa commander finally regained his nerve and tried to blast his way clear of Third Fleet but Admiral Kent had used his superior fighters and bombers ruthlessly. The Jaffa tried again and again to bring their battle-line together with Third Fleet for a close action with energy weapons where they were sure to win; Admiral Kent had other plans and kept the range open, sending the fighters and bombers in again and again, reducing their Death Glider complement and then taking out the heavy weapons of the Hat'ak's one after the other.

As soon as his analysts were sure that he had stripped the Motherships of the majority of their teeth, he had allowed the battle-lines to close and then proceeded to pound the Goa'uld Motherships into uselessness.

He had lost sixty-eight fighters, fourteen bombers and two destroyers but the Goa'uld had lost six Hat'ak's and over five hundred Death Gliders. It was a stunning victory that was shot in the arm for the morale of a fleet that had suffered the soul-destroying defeat at Gryphon.

Now all Admiral Kent wanted was some sleep.

As that thought brought a smile to his face, the communication officer cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me, Admiral? We have an incoming signal from Earth. It's Admiral Patterson, sir."

Uh oh. "Pipe it through to my cabin, Lieutenant." Admiral Kent replied, walking swiftly out of the Command and Control center and heading toward his cabin, which was barely twenty meters down the hall. In less than a minute, Kent was sitting in front of his console and typing in his command authorization. The viewscreen blinked to life and Patterson's grim visage appeared.

"Kent." The Admiral greeted him quietly. "How are things on the front?"

The Admiral tried to suppress a grin and wasn't entirely successful, his pride in his people threatening to overflow and spill out in an uncontrollable outburst. Instead though, he settled for a casual shrug. "Not too shabby. I was about to shoot off a report, actually. We just destroyed six Hat'ak's in Adenan space, less than an hour ago. We're about to pull out before the Adenan's show up. Some of my people are taking bets as to whether they'll be grateful or just pissed."

The Admiral of the Fleet's grim countenance lightened slightly at the good news. "You'll leave enough evidence behind to point the action to us?"

"Not a problem." Admiral Kent assured him.

Nodding, Patterson took a deep breath. "That's good 'cause I'm issuing a recall. You're to return to Earth with all the speed you can muster."

Admiral Kent raised a questioning eyebrow and Patterson's expression went blank as he explained. "Current intelligence indicates that Bast is going to hit Earth sometime in the next two to three weeks. We need you here, fast."

Kent frowned deeply as he mentally recalled the navigation charts. "Admiral, even at maximum speed, Third Fleet is still fourteen days away from Earth!"

Patterson nodded, as if he'd expected that answer. "Then you'd better get started, Admiral. Patterson out."

Admiral Kent gazed into the now blank screen, his mind thinking furiously. His arm shot out and practically punched the communication console. "CIC." The voice of Captain Hradetsky, his Chief of Staff replied.

"This is Kent." The Admiral announced. "I want the fleet ready to make the jump to hyperspace in less than an hour. Recall our birds and get whatever repairs need doing to facilitate a safe jump done and done quickly. I'll be rejoining you shortly but get started immediately."

"Aye, sir!" Hradetsky's slightly perturbed voice replied before the Admiral closed the channel.

Dammit, Kent thought. This isn't like Gryphon all over again. This isn't like Gryphon at all. The minutes went by agonizingly as Admiral Kent silently tried to convince himself of that.

* * * * * * * * *

February 11th 2010
Command-ship 'War Hammer', Staging Point Alpha, Gryphon System

Bast idly toyed with the controls built into her throne as she sat on the bridge of the 'War Hammer'. The Jaffa manning the bridge moved about their business with silent efficiency, though they had very little to do for the ship was essentially in standby mode and had been for four days while the fleet assembled. Normally she would have been bored to tears with all the waiting but for the fact that the staging point for the attack fleet was the Gryphon system, which meant that for the first time in far too long, she got to see...

"Hek'at?" She called out enquiringly as he strode silently onto the bridge with a puzzled look on his face.

They had spent the first two days of her arrival secluded in her quarters, ostensibly for a 'debriefing' but in reality, they were partaking in far more personal actions.

Hek'at moved over to the command console and manipulated the controls slightly. He finally turned to Bast and, keeping up the pretense of his 'unequal' status, he bowed deeply. "My Queen, two of my udajeet pilots report picking up a Tau'ri fighter in the outer system."

Bast looked at her First Prime and lover thoughtfully. "From your words, I'm to assume that they're no longer in contact with the fighter?"

Hek'at nodded. "Yes, my Queen. The Tau'ri fighter accelerated to almost twice the speed of our udajeets. The Tau'ri fighters have always been faster but..."

"...this is several levels above their usual top speed." Bast finished. Thinking hard about the amalgamation of native, Goa'uld and Asgard technology the Tau'ri utilize for their ships, she shook her head negatively. "I don't think you need to worry too much. I believe it was a scout version of their fighter. No doubt stripped of it weapons and armour, allowing it to attain immense speeds but giving no combat value whatsoever."

Hek'at grinned ruefully. "That is reassuring to hear, my Queen."

Bast smiled. "I understand it is a Tau'ri saying that it is just as dangerous to overestimate an opponent as it is to underestimate one."

"Wise and yet contradictory at the same time. How very Tau'ri." Hek'at replied. "Regardless, I thin it's safe to assume that the scout achieved a good long look at the buildup of forces in this system. No doubt they are beginning to wonder where we intend to point all this firepower."

Bast shook her head again. "I entertain no such illusions. The Tau'ri are not stupid. They must know that one of the major reasons I ordered to invasion of Gryphon was to secure a forward base with which to assault their homeworld from. The psychological effects to their Alliance were purely secondary."

Hek'at nodded. "I will intensify patrols. They may have gotten a look at the fleet as it stands now, but we are still awaiting Lady Amun'sul and Lady Asphe'kaht. I will sanitize the system ensuring that no prying eyes see our full strength. The Tau'ri estimates of our forces will be off by a considerable margin."

The fleet, when completely assembled, would consist of the Dhan'hak Commandship, 'War Hammer', eight Shal'kra heavy Motherships, eighteen Hat'ak medium Motherships and twelve Brel'keht light Motherships. Enough firepower to wipe a solar system clean of life in hours.

Smiling ferally, Bast sighed in satisfaction. "Hek'at, you have a devious mind."

Chapter 4
The Battle for Sol...

T-minus 153h:47m:06s
February 16th 2010
United Earth Military Command, The Ring, Cheltenham, England

General Stuart stood on the second level balcony and let loose a sigh of satisfaction as the massive ten by five meter wall screen in front of him flickered with the latest updates from around the world. A flattened map of the world currently dominated the wall screen, with smaller secondary windows around the edges of the display providing more detailed information. It was all controlled from the Master Console that sat down near the crew pits, receiving input from every computer in the Earth's Defense Net. Directly or indirectly, every military base, every planetary defense center, every aircraft, spacecraft, minefield, orbital weapon and sensor platform was tied into the Net in someway. The overwhelming mass of data from all those sources flowed constantly into the Command Center, here in the heart of England, where everything could be commanded. It had taken years of effort and thousands upon thousands of engineers and programmers but the Defense Net was finally online.

A small, polite cough from behind him pulled Stuart out of his thoughts and he turned to see Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson stood there, his patrician feature set into a wry grimace. "We've come a long way from trying to run a war using a map and a line of phones." The Englishman commented, gesturing towards the crew pits.

Stuart snorted softly, his craggy face turning back to admire the view. "Different age, same principles."

Patterson nodded silently in agreement and moved up next to the General, watching the officers and technicians in the crew pits gong about their business. "How do we look on the ground?" He asked after a moment.

"Pretty good, considering." Stuart replied. "If Bast and Hek'at think they stuck their hand into the lion's mouth trying to invade Gryphon, they ain't got a clue as to what they're stepping into if they do try to put troops dirtside on Earth." He glanced over at the Admiral. "Still, we're going to lose a lot of people if they do so I'd appreciate it if y'all over in Fleet could keep the Jaffa from landing in the first place?"

Eyes grim, Patterson nodded slowly. "To paraphrase Admiral Kent before the Battle of Gryphon, 'They'll know they were in a fight.'"

Stuart grinned at the unexpected bravado from the usually reserved Brit. "Any word from Kent?" He asked.

"I just got a message from him. He's on his way." Patterson replied even as one of the secondary windows on the wall screen display updated itself, displaying the status of Third Fleet for all to see. "He's due to arrive on the 20th."

A whistle of relief from the General met the Admiral's answer. "That puts him what? Two days ahead of Intelligence's estimate of Bast's fleet?"

"Aye." The Admiral of the Fleet responded. "He's cut it close but he'll be here in time for the fireworks. However as a precaution, I've ordered Second Fleet to take up position in the asteroid belt ahead of schedule, just in case Bast manages to squeeze some extra juice out of her hyperdrive and arrives early. First Fleet is, of course, maintaining position between Earth and Mars, ready to lead the Goa'uld fleet into the minefields."

"And Third Fleet?" Trying to remember what the particulars of the fleet's defense consisted of.

Patterson shrugged. "Third, when it arrives, will take up a lunar orbit, keeping the Moon between it and the least time area of approach from Gryphon."

"So when Bast arrives, with a little luck, she won't see Third Fleet until she hits the mine field." Stuart finished.

"That's the plan." Patterson confirmed. "Second Fleet, with its emphasis on battleships not carriers, will act as the heavy hitters, ready to jump in from the Belt, striking the Goa'uld fleet in a weak spot when an opportunity presents itself."

"Sounds simple and effective and just like every other military plan since day one, it'll dissolve into elephant snot as soon as you make contact with the enemy." Stuart commented. "Still...do you think you can actually win?"

Patterson sighed. "Maybe. We have lot of fighters and bombers available and I mean a lot. We've proved we can defeat a much heavier Goa'uld battle line if handled aggressively and at range. We got hit hard in Gryphon because Hek'at refused to allow himself to spread his force too thin. In an energy range engagement, we can't compete on a ton for ton basis; despite the leg up from all the alien technology we've reverse engineered. Hopefully, if Bast doesn't bring too many heavy ships, if the mine fields and orbital weapon platforms work as advertised and if we get a few lucky breaks go our way...we might win after all."

"A lot of 'if's'." The General replied.

"Quite." Patterson replied with classic British understatement.

T-minus 94h:12m:54s
February 18th 2010
Oval Office, The White House, Washington D.C, United States

President Robert Kinsey rubbed his eyes tiredly as his staff filed out of the Oval Office, leaving him alone with a stack of reports.

His speakerphone buzzed sharply. "Mr. President, I have Prime Minister Grant on line one." His secretary announced.

Nodding to himself, he hauled his tired body out from behind his desk and moved to one of the seats on the sofa, in front of the fireplace. "Put her through to the main screen." He ordered.

In response, the picture that hung above the fireplace stirred slightly as the entire panel slid smoothly upwards into a recessed slot in the ceiling, revealing a large flat screen display that showed the United States Government crest. The screen flickered slightly, the golden eagle with its branch and arrows being replaced with crest of the United Kingdom. A small data bar at the bottom of the transmission header told him that is was a secure communication, direct from No.10 Downing St.

The equally tired looking face of Elizabeth Grant appeared, sat behind her desk, a heavy downpour of rain rattling against the window behind her. It was late evening over in England at moment, Kinsey realized absently, so she must be putting in as many hours as he was. They had known each other as heads of state for almost a decade now. Both had come to power about the same time, right at the beginning of the overt stages of the war with the Goa'uld. Kinsey felt his lips tighten briefly in a grin. They were both about due to retire as well, since they both had reached their term limits. Their relationship had started out frostily, despite whatever 'special relationship' Britain and America was supposed to have. They both had personalities that rubbed each other the wrong way but, to paraphrase a noted British Prime Minister, the prospect of hanging does concentrate one's mind wonderfully and the prolonged contact between the two had steadily worn away the rough edges to their relationship. Now they both respected each other's strengths and had come to rely on each other's counsel tremendously.

"Afternoon, Robert." Grant said, greeting him with a brief smile.

"You're up late, Elizabeth, the Opposition keeping you awake at nights?" Kinsey replied teasingly.

"Are you sure I can't just write a new law, giving me total and absolute control of the government?" She inquired tiredly. "The damn shadow cabinet has been playing the invasion angle for all its worth. Like I'm responsible for letting the invasion happen!"

Kinsey frowned as her words pushed something he'd buried to the surface. "Maybe you should blame me." He replied quietly, the teasing leached entirely from his tone of voice. Back when the SGC was finding its feet, Kinsey had tried to get the project shut down, fearing that the 'Gate was a Pandora's Box that could bear bad tidings for Earth. In a very real sense, he had been proven right, and in the dark, late at night, he often wondered if things would have come to this if he had been successful in shutting O'Neill down.

Elizabeth saw and heard the downswing of Kinsey's thoughts, correctly interpreting his self-flagellation and her eyes narrowed to slits and her voice became cold. "This has never been your fault, Robert, and it's only your arrogance that would even allow you to think that one man, even the President of the United States, could be responsible for the situation for which the Earth finds itself in at the moment."

Kinsey recoiled from the bite in her voice and then smiled ruefully, seeing that she had intentionally hit him verbally like that to knock him out of the funk he was falling into. "Message received and understood, Madame Prime Minister." He replied, taking a deep breath and bringing himself back on an even keel.

Elizabeth smiled and got down to the reason she called. "I spoke to Premier Kutsov today."

"And what did our Russian Chairwoman have to say about our current state of affairs?" He replied cautiously.

"She agreed with our proposal and has no objections to its implementation but she did note, and I quote, 'You'll be lucky if you will manage to get more than twenty percent of the population under a canopy shield by the time the Goa'uld arrive.'"

Kinsey nodded sourly. "She's right."

"But we still have to try." Elizabeth pleaded.

"And we will. And we'll keep setting up canopy shields and moving civilians right up until the time the Goa'uld come knocking on the door, meanwhile, I'm concerned about some of the analysis the Joint Chiefs have sent my way concerning our defenses here on the ground so to speak." Kinsey replied, picking up the report in question from the pile on the low table in front of him.

The Prime Minister arched an elegant eyebrow. "You'll have to be more specific, Robert, I'm no mind reader."

Kinsey grimaced and read the serial number off the front of the hardcopy report, allowing her to call the digital version up on her console. "It's about the use of pre-Stargate military hardware against Goa'uld Death Gliders and Scorpion tanks."

Grant frowned as she read the précis of the report. "I had no idea things were that uneven."

Kinsey nodded in agreement. The report was an analysis of the effectiveness of the planes and tanks in use by the world's armed forces before they received any upgrades developed from alien technology. The American Abrams tank was a prime example. The M1A2, the world's best tank as of 2005, was easy meat for a platoon of Jaffa with staff weapons. Granted, that platoon had to get into range in the first place but infantry with the ability to reduce their premier tank to scrap was unsettling. The next-generation Abrams, the M1A4 looked almost exactly the same but was a completely different animal altogether. The British-invented Chobham armor was now laced with a trinium/beryllium/steel, room temperature, super-conducting skin that allowed it to shrug off even heavy energy cannon fire for a limited time. And the long barreled 120mm smoothbore gun had been replaced with a stubbier ion pulse cannon that was quickly becoming the basis of all Alliance offensive weaponry.

Unfortunately, only a regiment of these tanks existed at the moment, the technology for the armor barely off the R&D bench and horrendously expensive to boot.

The report basically stated that sending conventional tanks and aircraft against Goa'uld forces would be tantamount to suicide. They would get one, maybe two strikes in at most, before being totally wiped out by superior weaponry.

The only bright side, the report concluded, was that Earth was literally groaning under the weight of planes and tanks it could send against any invading force.

Some bright side, Kinsey thought darkly.

"This is disturbing, Robert. If Bast manages to put forces on the ground, and you know that they'll be heading for the Stargate installations in Colorado and Khabarovsk, we'll effectively be signing the death warrant of the pilots and tank crews we send against them! What else can we do?" She asked despairingly.

Kinsey closed his eyes, trying to shut out the horror unfolding before him. "Nothing, Elizabeth. Not a goddamned thing."

T-minus 67h:09m:11s
February 19th 2010
10AU above the Solar System ecliptic

Earth and its military was understandably tense and every active sensor they possessed swept space for the first sign of the Goa'uld invasion fleet. Great strides though they had made, Earth technology still didn't possess the sensor strength and sensitivity to detect cloaked vessels at ranges further than a light minute.

And so, every patrol and sensor platform missed the cloaked vessel that sat patiently, far above their homeworld, watching their defensive preparations with interest.

For two weeks it had held its current position, watching elements of the Alliance fleet arrive from their duty stations around the other member worlds, all recalled for the desperate defense of a planet and the people that had stumbled blindly into a hostile Galaxy and, with incredible stubbornness, taken on all comers, without backing down or retreating. And not only had they actively fought against every threat to cross their path but they had also thrived.

The crew of the cloaked vessel sat patiently, considering that what the people of Earth had achieved, to plunge the Galaxy into chaos, had been inevitable from the moment they first stepped through the Stargate. Was there was something about the humans of Earth that brought about chaos and anarchy? Was it something about their planet?

It was unfair of course. Most of the other humans and aliens of other worlds also showed a tendency towards violence, revealing the barbarity of their respective civilizations...but, the crew considered, what had the so called enlightened species accomplished?

The Asgard, premier among the advanced races, tried to protect worlds from the predations of the Goa'uld but a Galaxy is a vast place and there are thousands of populated worlds out there that the Asgard had no knowledge of, worlds that the System Lords preyed upon freely. Worlds that were ignored by the advanced, privileged races, secure in their 'superiority' and the arrogance of a maturity that let them sleep at night while civilizations died under the thumb of the Goa'uld.

The Tau'ri.

They had begun to open eyes among the older races, eyes that had been blind to see the mistakes and tragedies hidden in their noble words and philosophies.

Decisions were going to be made soon, decisions that would change the Galaxy forever.

The crew of the cloaked vessel, computers filled with data on the Tau'ri defensive preparations, set a course for home, leave as quietly and as unnoticed as they had arrived.

They had a report to make.

T-minus 42h:34m:48s
February 20th 2010
ENS Nimitz, First Fleet, high orbit, Earth

O'Neill stood on the bridge of the flag vessel of the First Fleet, the Ark-Royal Class carrier ENS Nimitz, with a smirk on his face. Beside him, Carter was explaining some obscure function of the ship's sensor array to Teal'c, who seemed interested but O'Neill knew that Teal'c could win Oscar's with his acting ability if he wanted to hide his true feelings. The big Jaffa stood silently, apparently absorbing Carter's every word.

He couldn't help it...O'Neill just had to laugh. It had been far too long since they had all been together at the same time, what with him at the SGC, Carter at Spearhead and Teal'c pretty much touring the Alliance with Sergeant Booth and their cadre of Jaffa combat instructors. With their 'busy' schedules, they'd only seen each other a handful of times since Daniel... O'Neill shook the thought off and resumed his basking in the glow of finally having his friends beside him and sternly ignoring the looks of awe that the bridge crew of the Nimitz were surreptitiously bestowing upon the actual, real life SG-1 who stood in the same room as them, actually breathing the same air.

Even the captain of the Nimitz, Commodore Han, who really should know better, sat in his command chair reading status reports, blithely ignoring the byplay. But every so often, when he though no one was watching, he'd throw a glance at the three heroes of the SGC and smile, proud that they'd chose to be aboard his vessel for the rapidly approaching spectacle.

Earth's space navy had only existed for less than a decade and, experienced though the Navy personnel were, none currently felt they would ever get tired of seeing an Earth Fleet exit from hyperspace. Admiral Kent had notified the Defense Net of his arrival time and all spaceborne ships and personnel had spent the past hour slowing jockeying for the best view.

One of Commodore Han's officers approached his chair, a small grin on his face. "Sir, we're beginning to pick up a localized radiation wavefront."

Han nodded in acknowledgement and lifted himself out of his seat and stepped down off the small platform, joining the General, Brigadier Carter and Teal'c, who had overheard the report and were already moving towards the forward transparisteel window.

O'Neill gazed out at the stars, looking for the first sign of Admiral Kent's ships. The bridge crew had put aside all pretense of working and also stood staring out into space. It was, of course, Teal'c who first spotted the hyperspace distortion generated during transition between the two dimensions.

Space seemed to twist in upon itself and then explode outwards. With a flash of light, a squadron of destroyers arrived, followed quickly by a battleship.

"That's the Shinano..." Carter murmured to herself. O'Neill, for his part, grinned in approval as he noticed the combat formations Kent was apparently using, even though Earth was currently secure territory. Admiral Kent still took every opportunity to train his people up, O'Neill thought wryly.

Another dozen destroyers appeared, smoothly arranging themselves into two wings that spread to either side of their immediate arrival point, securing the fleet's flanks as another battleship appeared, finally followed by the huge bulk of the Ark Royal, which, barely seconds after emerging from hyperspace, began to launch squadron after squadron of fighters and bombers.

Despite Earth looming in the background with its minefields and orbital weapon platforms and First Fleet in orbit, there was no doubt amongst anyone present who was currently in charge of this area of space at the moment. Third Fleet was the Navy's most experienced concentration of ships and crew and their arrival at Sol before Bast and her invasion force was a morale booster of immense proportions and their arrival maneuvers, intentional or not, definitely sent the message of what Third Fleet was about.

A console beeped in the background and one of the bridge crew bent over and silenced it, "Commodore, Admiral Kent is hailing you, sir."

"Put him through." Han replied easily.

"Greetings, Commodore Han." Kent's voice called out, filtered through the bridge speakers.

Han smiled ruefully. "Afternoon, Admiral, and if I may, that was one hell of an arrival. You have some seriously impressed people watching you right now."

The British Admiral's laughter filled the air. "It wasn't too showy then, Commodore?"

O'Neill took a step forward and inserted himself into the conversation. "I didn't think so, Admiral."

"General!" Kent replied in surprise. "I wasn't aware you'd be on board."

O'Neill shrugged, unable to stop the gesture even though the admiral wouldn't see it. "It was a last minute kind of thing, Admiral. A final inspection of the fleet before Bast arrives."

"Any change on her ETA since I last spoke with you?" Kent asked carefully.

"Not that I'm aware." O'Neill replied. "She should be here sometime in the next day or so."

"Enough time for me to go over my part in the defense plan." The Admiral added pointedly. "The defense plan's been considered too secure to transmit over interstellar channels and so I know very little except for the basic outlines that we're couriered to me."

O'Neill caught the unspoken message and looked over at the Commodore, who nodded and snapped his fingers at the communication technician. "We're sending you the updated plan now. I'll have Admiral Patterson send a team over to brief your Captains and their staffs."

"Excellent." Admiral Kent replied. "I'd best sign off then. I've got some preparing to do and not a lot of time to do it. Admiral Kent, out."

As the communication channel closed, Colonel Krupskaya stepped onto the bridge and made a beeline for O'Neill. "General? The SGC is getting a message from Spearhead. Colonel DeSoto wishes to speak with Brigadier Carter. Something about the SG-Assault teams protesting their orders to stay off-world during the upcoming fight."

"Crap." Carter cursed quietly. She'd issued the orders before she had 'Gated to Earth hoping that the troops at Spearhead might take it calmly.

O'Neill raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged in explanation. "We had to expect it. We're asking them to stay away from defending their families and their homes."

"I understand but we need to have a solid core of veteran soldier's off-world, along with the civilians at the Alpha and Beta sites, just in case." O'Neill replied.

"I know." Carter acknowledged. "I'd better get back. I'll need to calm them down. Somehow."

"Sic 'em on to some unsuspecting Union System Lord." Commodore Han suggested.

Carter shook her head. "Sounds good but it would probably be a bad idea. They'd be distracted by thoughts of the fighting here at home and a distracted SG team is a dead SG team."

Commodore Han winced and made a mental note to keep his ideas of ground-pounder tactics to himself in future. It really wasn't his forte.

O'Neill took a deep breath and then placed a hand on Han's shoulder. "Thanks for showing us your ship, Commodore, but we've got to be going."

"It's been a pleasure, sir." Han replied. "We'll give 'em hell."

"That's all I ask, Commodore..." O'Neill added as he, Carter and Teal'c headed towards the hatch. "...that's all I ask."

T-minus 02h:11m:39s
February 22nd 2010
Goa'uld Commandship 'War Hammer', 110 light years from Earth

Wrapped in each others arms, Bast and Hek'at lay in bed, in her palatial quarters aboard the Commandship 'War Hammer' as is sped through hyperspace on its way to Earth. Together, they savored the presence of each other in the peace and quiet that would all too soon be shattered.

Hek'at stroked Bast's golden hair as his thoughts inevitably turned towards the future. "I wish we could remain like this forever."

Bast smiled lovingly, her head laid against his chest. "I have no objections to that plan."

"Ahh, but think of the chaos the Galaxy would fall into if you were not around to impose order upon it." Hek'at added.

Bast felt a wave of foreboding sweep through her body and raised her head and looked Hek'at in the eye. "The Galaxy can go to hell for all I care at the moment."

"That's just your current circumstances talking." Hek'at replied reprovingly. "You will feel different once you're on the bridge, amongst your servants and the 'rules' of Goa'uld civilization are restored once more."

Shaking her head, Bast traced a random outline on his sculpted chest, above the crossed opening of his pouch and the prim'ta within. "That's not entirely true. If you asked it of me, I would give it all up. We could leave the Tau'ri and the System Lords to their own devices. Just us two, you and I, we could take the 'War Hammer' and find a remote planet, maybe even leave the Galaxy altogether. Leave it all behind us."

Hek'at looked at his lover curiously. "We're a little over two hours from total victory over the Tau'ri and you'd consider abandoning the Union and heading off to parts unknown?"

"If you were at my side, I would." Bast confirmed.

Hek'at snorted with amusement, love and affection. "As much as that plan appeals to me, what say we crush the Tau'ri before we make any momentous decisions?"

Bast looked away for second, trying to dispel the foreboding that had filled her heart, only to face him once again with a loving smile on her face. "Alright, my First Prime, we'll do it your way."

Hek'at sighed in pleasure. "If only you could be that reasonable in other things as well."

Mock-punching him in the chest, she rolled on top of him, their bed sheets dropping away, revealing her nakedness in all her glory and Hek'at felt his breath catch in his throat.

"If we have two hours left, I suggest we spend that time as wisely as possible." Bast announced.

Stroking her cheek, Hek'at smiled. "I totally agree." He said, before he pulled her mouth down upon his.

T+ 00h:00m:01s
Defense Net Command, The Ring, England, Earth

General O'Neill, General Stuart and Lord Sir Admiral Patterson stood on the second level balcony of the command center and patiently watched the wall screen display flicker with sensor alerts. They had picked up a massive radiation wave front three minutes ago, heralding the arrival of a large number of ships.

"ALERT, ALERT, SYSTEM LORD MOTHERSHIPS HAVE ENTERED THE SOL SYSTEM NEAR MARS!" An anonymous speaker announced. "ALERT, MOTHERSHIPS HAVE PENETRATED THE SOL SYSTEM!"

The Operations officer stepped away from his bank of consoles and their attendant technicians and he looked up at O'Neill. "General, we're picking up twelve light Motherships, eighteen medium, eight heavy Motherships and a Commandship."

O'Neill winced along with every other person tied into the Defense Net. That was almost 50% again their worst-case projections.

The sensor display updated itself and the Ops officer frowned. "They appear to be forming into two groups, sir. One group, designating it as Group Alpha, consists of the 'War Hammer', two Shal'kra's and eight Hat'ak's. It appears to be holding position at the orbit of Mars. The second group, designated Group Beta, consists of six Shal'kra's, ten Hat'ak's and twelve Brel'keht's; they're heading directly for First Fleet."

Admiral Patterson made a small noise satisfaction. First Fleet was purposely out of position between Earth and Mars in order to get the Goa'uld fleet to do exactly what it was doing now, chasing them.

O'Neill felt the same satisfaction but it was tempered by the numbers in Group Beta bearing down on First Fleet. As he watched the display, the icons of First Fleet began to turn and head in-system, towards Earth.

ENS Nimitz, First Fleet

Commodore Han suppressed the urge to launch his full complement of fighters from the Nimitz as he watched the space around the Motherships blossom with hoards of Death Gliders.

"Fleet orders. Come to bearing 219, mark 010, flank speed." He ordered, putting First Fleet on a course for Earth.

'Aye, sir.' The helmsman replied.

Han stepped away from his chair and walked over to the quartermaster's table where she was charting the various ships tracks assiduously.

"How's it look, Chief?" Han asked quietly.

The Chief glanced over the numbers once more and sighed deeply. "Assuming Group Beta maintains their current speed, they'll reach weapons range five minutes before they hit the minefield."

Han's expression remained blank. That was cutting it too close. First Fleet could take some damage in those five minutes if they were unlucky. 'Thank you, chief, keep me notified if that estimate changes."

The Chief nodded and Han moved back to his chair. "Buckle in, people, things are about to get rough."

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal, Third Fleet, low lunar orbit

Admiral Kent watched the tactical repeater intently as First Fleet screamed towards Earth with half the Goa'uld Fleet on its heels.

Command Farrow, the Tactical Action Officer of the Ark Royal's Combat Information Center approached the Admiral and passed him a datapad. "First Fleet should enter the minefield at Sector 14-12 in eight minutes, the Goa'uld will hit it in eleven minutes. With any luck, First Fleet's IFF should prevent any mines from firing upon them but if any of their ships take battle damage..."

"How's their positioning look?" Kent asked as he read the raw data off the pad, pushing away concerns over a situation he had no control over.

Farrow shrugged slightly. "They right on First Fleet's heels, they should enter the minefield right behind them, putting them right in the middle of Sector 14-12's maximum density."

"And then we move out." Kent finished. Third Fleet's part in the plan was to hide behind the Moon, hopefully undetected, until the Goa'uld fleet hit the minefield. At that point, Third Fleet would emerge and hit their right flank while First would swing around and hit their left. With a little luck, the crossfire would deal out a massive amount of damage to the Motherships, forcing a retreat.

For the next five minutes, they watched First Fleet exchange fire in a running battle with Group Beta. The Goa'uld vessels were slowly closing the gap and their weapons fire was steadily becoming more and more accurate. Ion pulses and plasma blasts flew back and forth, shields collapsed, armour melted and shattered and people died but the ships of each side remained more or less intact as First Fleet approached the minefield in Sector 14-12.

Commander Farrow made a small, silent prayer as the lead destroyers entered the minefield.

* * * * * * * *

The Jaffa Commander of the lead Shal'kra of 'Group Beta' smiled tightly as he watched the latest volley of plasma blasts slam into the fleeing Tau'ri vessels. Sensors showed severe shield damage to several Tau'ri ships and he felt mild surprise at the lack of courage and tactical skill the enemy commander was showing. In the past minute, his ships had suddenly huddled together into a fairly tight formation that made them easier targets for his ships long-range volleys.

The Jaffa manning the sensor station on the bridge frowned deeply as his console began reveal spurious sensor readings. At first he assumed it was jamming or even damage to the arrays but a quick check through the datalink to the other Motherships confirmed the same readings.

"Commander!" The Jaffa called out. "I'm picking a large number of very small energy signatures! They're starting to appear all around us...it's like nothing I've seen before..."

The Commander turned a puzzled look at the Jaffa. "How many?"

"Thousands, Commander."

* * * * * * * *

When the Scientific Support Division became a global effort with the unveiling of the Stargate to the world at large, a large number of 'black' projects and unfeasible research fell into their laps from various science labs around the world. One of these projects was from the Chinese, one of their designs for a 'Star Wars' satellite that was in essence a nuclear, bomb-pumped, x-ray laser. It was something the Americans and Russians had fooled around with but had never got very far having what they termed 'throughput' problems. They could never seem to get enough of the nuclear blast channeled into the focusing array long enough to produce a coherent rod of light.

A bunch of Chinese scientists had managed to crack the problem almost a decade after everyone else had given up. Initially ecstatic, the SSD had set about designing an orbital defense system only to find that the x-ray lasers were practically useless against shield technology. The arrival of Jonas Quinn and his 'Naquadria' technology had changed all that and Naquadria bomb-pumped laser mines were relatively cheap if fairly complex devices. Munitions factories on Earth began to churn out as many of these mines that they could and O'Neill managed to gain approval to place them in orbit, thus providing a significant force multiplier.

General O'Neill watched the Goa'uld fleet blithely enter the minefield; unaware of the danger that was slowly encompassing them. Less than a minute passed before the Goa'uld ships began to show signs of hesitation. Their sensor pulses increased in strength ten-fold as the Jaffa Commander started to become aware of the magnitude of threat he faced.

O'Neill shook his head. "Gotcha."

* * * * * * * *

The first of five groups of mines detonated as one. From all directions, hundreds beams of naquada-harnessed energy speared into the Goa'uld ships, smashing shields and armour aside and tearing hulls open to the vacuum space.

The Jaffa Commander was no fool and, though he had never encountered a mine before, he realized quickly enough what he was dealing with, began to open fire on the still dormant mines, in addition to launching his udajeets with orders to hunt down the dormant mines as well.

The second wave of mines exploded and another wave of energy swept over his ships like a tidal wave. Three of the light, Brel'keht Motherships exploded under the pounding, sending debris flying in all directions.

Despite the searing energy, the Motherships spread out but still continued to push deeper into the minefield, ignoring First Fleet and heading towards Earth.

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal

In the CIC of the ENS Ark Royal, the crew went about their jobs with calm precision as Admiral Kent stared intently at the tactical display. As the senior fleet commander in space, Kent had authority over First and Second fleet commanders as well as tactical control of the minefields and orbital weapon platforms. Though the Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson ran the Defense Net from the surface, it had been decided that final authority rested with the operational commander.

Meaning me, Kent thought wryly.

"They're taking damage, sir." The sensor operator announced.

Commander Farrow, the TAO, looked up from his own console in CIC towards the Admiral with a satisfied expression. "The third wave of mines has expended itself. The fourth wave is charging its capacitors...assigning targets."

The targeted fire from the minefield was being spread evenly among the enemy ships in order to damage as many of their vessels as possible but as Kent brought up a detailed sensor readout of the various Motherships taking fire, he realized that the distributed fire was causing superficial damage to all of the Motherships and not really hurting any of them.

"Commander Farrow?" The Admiral called out and the TAO looked back up at the Admiral before he started to pick out targets for the next wave of mines. "Focus your remaining mines upon those lead Shal'kra's. The Fleet can handle the Hat'ak's and Brel'keht's but I want those heavies put down now!"

Farrow nodded in understanding and turned to his system operators lining one side of the CIC. "You heard the Admiral." He said quietly. "Target the Shal'kra's."

On the tactical screens of the half-dozen weapon system operators, hundreds of weapons locks went from encompassing the enemy of nearly thirty ships to concentrating on just six.

"Mines locked." Farrow announced.

Kent's eyes narrowed. "Fire."

Goa'uld Commandship 'War Hammer', Group Alpha, Mars orbit

Hek'at slammed his fist into the bulkhead in frustration as the six lead Shal'kra's were sudden enveloped in flame. The remaining mines had fired as one and almost five hundred shafts of energy smashed into the heavily armoured vessels. Three exploded like miniature suns under the onslaught, their shield bubbles collapsing instantly, as if pricked by a needle. Their armor had held up for almost a full second but they had simply taken too many hits, in too many places from too many directions.

"Damn them to hell." Hek'at cursed.

Bast shook her head, her features grim as she watched the secondary group of ships reform with the loss of their heavy Motherships. "Inventive. We know the Tau'ri occasionally use mines during ground combat but it never occurred to me that such a thing could be used in space."

"The Tau'ri have evolved methods of killing themselves far beyond the capacity of the rest of their technology." Hek'at replied bitterly. "Now their fleet is coming around to engage our ships while they are still distracted by the damage from the mines!"

Bast remained calm, her mind studying the situation without emotion, and gestured at the tactical display. "Their performance is impressive so far but look, they must have used up all of their mines in that entire region of space near the planet. We now have a corridor in which to advance, free from the threat of those mines."

As Hek'at narrowed his eyes in understanding, he turned to one of his Jaffa Seconds. "Pre'tal, order the first wave to launch its udajeets and advance aggressively onwards, towards Earth. They are to bypass any orbital defenses and head directly for the Chappa'ai facilities on the surface. The second wave, with the 'War Hammer', will make to ready attack as soon as the first wave draws in the Tau'ri Fleet."

The Second nodded sharply in understanding and moved to send out the orders to the rest of the fleet.

"Hek'at?" Bast called out. "The Tau'ri are obviously working to a set plan. I suggest it not wise for us to play our part in that plan or allow them to play theirs. Power up the communication jamming device. Blanket the area with static on all Tau'ri frequencies."

Hek'at smiled. "I like it, though you realize the jamming device isn't as effective against their primitive radio communications system..."

Bast shrugged. "Regardless, radio has its own set of problems, time lag of transmission not being the least of them." She smiled in mild satisfaction. "No, I think this will upset their plans quite nicely."

* * * * * * * * *

Wing Commander Heinreich Sternhoffen momentarily flexed his fingers to get the circulation going again as his Sabre flew in a combat space patrol pattern fifty kilometers above the ENS Nimitz as the big flagship reversed its course and headed back towards the Goa'uld Motherships it had just led into the minefield. In formation around him flew the other one hundred and nineteen fighters of the 11th Tactical Wing, "The Barracudas". Outside of his canopy, Sternhoffen could just make out the rest of the First Fleet but, with the distances involved, it was impossible to see the Goa'uld Motherships caught in the crossfire of the minefield, even with the canopy heads up display painting a red box around the location of each Mothership.

His radio suddenly crackled to life. "Barracuda Lead, this is Flight Ops, over."

"Barracuda Lead, go." Sternhoffed replied curtly.

The tense but controlled voice of the Air Force Captain covering Flight Ops aboard the Nimitz filled the cockpit, his voice radiating authority. "Barracuda Lead, Gold One has given us the green light. You are cleared for Plan Delta. Good luck."

Sternhoffen smiled tightly. 'Thanks, Flight. Lead, out." Gold One was Admiral Kent's call sign and it appeared that now that the mines had done their thing, it was the fleet's Fighter and Bomber Corp's turn. Plan Delta was simplicity itself. The Sabre squadrons would advance and engage the Death Gliders with the intention of opening a hole that the Bomber squadrons could streak through unopposed, allowing them to attack the Motherships with their heavy ordnance.

The entire fighter and bomber complement from the First and Third Fleets would make this initial strike, with the hundreds of planet-based fighters held in reserve.

"Squadron leaders, Delta, Delta, Delta!" Sternhoffen cried out as he gripped his side stick controller. Suppressing the urge to yell a war cry as slammed his throttles forward to their stops, his Sabre fighter screamed forward with terrifying speed. All around him, the Barracudas lit their afterburners and streaked forward, separating into their individual squadrons and spreading out, giving each other fighting room.

* * * * * * * * *

The Jaffa pilots saw the two massive waves of Tau'ri fighter craft bearing down on them and their blood began to boil with the thrill of the upcoming battle. They reefed their udajeets into tight spirals, making random course changes in anticipation of the deadly missile salvos that would inevitably rain down upon them before the clouds of fighter met in close combat.

Defense Net Command Centre, Earth

O'Neill and the rest of the DNCC watched the fighters from First and Third Fleet close on the Death Gliders. His people were outnumbered almost three to one but, thanks to the AFM, that only made the odds an equal proposition.

The tactical display flickered as the Defense Net calculated the new courses for First and Third Fleet. They appeared to be heading for the same point in space, on an intercept course to catch the remnants of Group Beta at the same time from two sides. The Shal'kra's of Group Beta would have made that fight an almost suicidal proposition but with them destroyed, thank to the mines, this fight too, became an almost equal proposition.

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal

"Admiral, I've lost all communication with the fighters!" Flight Ops announced urgently.

Admiral Kent's widened with unpleasant surprise and turned to the communications officer who was manipulating his console with desperate urgency. "It's Goa'uld jamming, sir, like what we've recently encountered in the Gryphon system. It's blanketing all the FTL communication channels!"

"What about radio?" Commander Farrow asked from across the CIC.

The communication officer frowned. "A fair amount of the standard radio freqs are being jammed but I've got enough channels clear at the moment to maintain minimal communications with the fleet but the time lag with make co-ordination a cast iron bitch, sir!"

Admiral Kent winced at the conclusion, ignoring the colourful language that it came in. Standard radio across interstellar distances would pose a serious problem for co-ordination between the various fleet positions. He turned to the tactical display and found that the communications officer had overlaid a series of circles showing the time it took for a signal to reach a specific distance. Fortunately Third Fleet only had a five second delay between sending and receiving, a pain to be sure but not catastrophic whereas Second Fleet would have to wait almost two hours before receiving a radio signal from Fleet Command.

And they were going to need Second Fleet to jump in a lot sooner than that!

Commander Farrow had been thinking furiously on a way past the jamming as suddenly he slapped his head with disgust. "Dammit, I should have thought of it immediately. We send a courier!"

Kent snorted in surprise and with self-disgust, immediately seeing the solution Farrow proposed and wondering why he hadn't saw it immediately. "Set it up!"

* * * * * * * * *

Sternhoffen watched his last AFM streak across space and explode less than a hundred metres away from a wildly evading udajeet. The flechettes from the AFM's warhead, however, shot outwards in an expanding cone that caught the entire left wing of the udajeet, ripping it cleanly from the fuselage. The mortally wounded udajeet spun away, clearly out of control and the German fighter pilot immediately began to scan his area of space, looking for a new target.

They had just received a radio transmission from Flight Ops informing of the breakdown in Fleet communications and that in the event of total communication loss, he was to continue with the plan as was briefed before take-off and to use his initiative.

'Sounded like the set-up for the biggest screw-up in history, if you ask me', he thought.

His visor darkened as a nearby Sabre exploded under the fire of an udajeet that banked smoothly away, only to end up putting an incredible deflection shot into another Sabre at long range. The shots just managed to penetrate the fighter's shields and slammed into the engines, blowing one pod clean away and causing the other one to sputter and die. The fighter continued on its course, helpless and totally ballistic. The udajeet made a smooth victory roll and darted off in another direction.

Sternhoffen narrowed his eyes and headed after the Jaffa who was clearly an experience combat pilot. Sternhoffen's wingman said nothing over the radio as he fell back into a cover position, watching their 'six' as his flight leader went off to pick a fight.

* * * * * * * * * *

Defense Net Command Centre, Earth

General Stuart shook his head with something akin to respect as the first wave of Goa'uld ships charged straight and unwaveringly into the closing jaws of the First and Third Fleets. They the first wave had been savaged by the mines and had lost all its heavy Motherships, it still maintained its role as the aggressor and opened fire upon the battleships and destroyers of the Allied Navy.

Ion bolts and plasma blasts crisscrossed space and slammed into shields and in some cases, ripped into naked armour. Battle steel splintered and shattered as pure energy ripped atoms apart, atmosphere exploded from compartments that were torn open to space and crewman and Jaffa alike were cast out into the void.

He was a ground-pounder, like O'Neill, despite the Supreme Allied Commander's Air Force origins, and his mentally unequipped to bear the thought of working in a space environment where you couldn't even survive without a full life support system, be it a ship or a suit.

On the tactical display, ships on both sides began to wink out of existences as they annihilated each other and General Stuart, not a totally religious man, prayed silently for the souls of both sides.

Admiral Patterson studied the displays intently and watched the mounting damage with worry. Even as the two Earth Fleets closed in from either side, the Hat'ak's charged forward remorselessly as the lighter Motherships helped keep the Navy vessels back. They were dying as they did it, but they were achieving their goal of breaking through the Navy lines. "We're not going to be able to stop all those Motherships..." he murmured quietly. Shaking his head, he looked over at O'Neill. "We're going to get some leakers, Jack."

O'Neill nodded as he studied the displays for himself. "I figure about six or seven..." He said as way of a reply. He didn't notice the handful of looks that knowledgeable comment produced from the Navy personnel in the Command Centre.

Patterson simply shrugged. "That second wave is bearing down on us and Admiral Kent can't afford to send any ships to chase them down, not with that monster of a command ship heading his way!"

O'Neill sighed deeply. "Then we leave the Motherships for the ground defenses." He turned to General Stuart. "You'd better get your forces ready, General. Looks like there's gonna be a ground fight after all."

Stuart nodded soberly and gave a quick salute before dashing away from the upper balcony; the dirt-side defenses were run from a section on the ground floor of Defense Net command. The irony of the army commanders having to look up at the balcony towards the naval officers had amused the architects no end.

O'Neill and Patterson watched the other man go and then turned their attention back to the tactical display as the First and Third Fleets continued to slug it out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

ENS Shinano

Captain Francine Renato grimaced as a Sintesian destroyer, the Triumphant exploded under a concentrated volley from two Motherships that were charging down the right flank, trying to get past the Alliance Fleet.

"Helm, come right sixty degrees, flank speed!" She ordered. "Guns, full starboard broadside. Hostile 11 is your target! Go for its engines!"

The helm and gunnery officers acknowledged their orders and Renato could feel the ship shift under its sharp maneuvering. The sound of the ion batteries firing disappeared as they ceased their constant firing, allowing their capacitors to charge and giving the batteries time to orient themselves on their new target, ready for a full power broadside.

"The Gorbachev and the Stuart have conformed to our movements and are locked into the fire control net!" Commander Sinclair, the ship's XO announced.

The Captain simply nodded and watched the tactical display intently. The ship shook hard as the two Motherships saw the fleet squadron bank sharply behind them and began to fire at them. Most of the energy blasts went high though, as the Shinano and her screen dropped rapidly into position.

"Fire!" Renato ordered.

* * * * * * *

The heavy batteries of the Shinano fired as one and a wave of ion bolts flew towards the Mothership designated 'Hostile 11'. The ion bolts slammed into its shields and caused a generator to overload, an explosion erupting from of the side of the pyramid. The destroyer screen had opened fire less than a second later and their shots flew unopposed into the drive coils in the slate gray, secondary hull of the Mothership.

Explosions rippled across the hull of the Mothership as its engines sputtered and died. Its weapons, for the most part, remained operational, and the cannons that were able to bring themselves to bear on the Shinano opened fire once again, their blasts more accurate now that the Shinano had ceased its rapid maneuvers.

The plasma energy blasts streaked in and slammed across the starboard flank of the battleship. The Shinano's shields held up initially but the second Mothership, 'Hostile 12' had also managed to lay a volley of shots on the lone battleship and the Shinano writhed under the fire as the smaller destroyers evaded the heavy energy blasts.

A handful of blasts from Hostile 11 got through her shields and tore mercilessly into her Flight Deck, the few remaining fighters, the ammunition and fuel stores exploding under the intense energy.

The Shinano bucked and heaved as its guts were ripped out, the entire section around the Flight Deck erupting, sending shattered fighters, crew and equipment out into the void.

* * * * * * * *

Renato cursed heavily as she heaved herself up from behind the tactical display the explosion had thrown her over. "Damage report!"

Commander Sinclair was already at his station, compiling reports from across the ship. "Everything from deck eleven downwards in sections eight and nine are gone! There's nothing left. The Flight Deck, Ion Battery 5, they're all gone..."

"Are we still in business?" Renato asked hotly.

"Helm is good, ma'am." The helmsman replied.

"Except for Battery 5, I still have weapons!" The Gunnery officer announced.

"Damage control teams have secured the compartments open to space. Hull integrity is down but we have a pressure hull. Life support is go!" The DCC bridge officer called out.

"Engines are still on-line. We lost the secondary trunk lines when deck nineteen, section eight went up but the primary trunks are okay. We still have main power to all remaining areas of the ship! Structural integrity is down by forty percent but if we don't jump to hyperspace, she should hold together!" The Engineering officer finished.

Renato smiled grimly at her XO. "Hostile 12's broken through our lines but our orders are to leave any leakers for Earth to handle. Bring us to emergency flank, Commander, course 278 mark 305 and see if you can't scare us up some bomber support. We need to rejoin the rest of the fleet and see if we can that second wave from getting through."

Sinclair nodded in understanding. "Aye sir!"

* * * * * * * *

The Shinano shot forward, trailing flame and wreckage but still mostly operational. The helmsman angled the battleship sharply downwards and curved underneath the drifting 'Hostile 11', using its massive bulk as cover against the mostly untouched 'Hostile 12'.

The engineless Mothership continued to exchange fire with the Shinano with whatever cannons could orient upon the battleship as it swung below them but that soon ceased as an entire wing of Pegasus bombers screamed in began to plaster the weapon ports with ion and rail gun fire.

The Shinano flew back towards the line unhindered as 'Hostile 11' lost its weapons one by as the bombers swarmed around it, stinging it with their cannons.

A squadron of Sabre fighters flew past, covering the bombers against the rapidly diminishing Death Glider threat as the Fleet turned its attention to the remnants of the first wave.

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal

Admiral Kent grimaced as he watched the Shinano pull away from the escaping 'Hostile 12'. Despite the close action and almost suicidal efforts of the Navy, seven Hat'ak's, in various states of damage, had made it past the First and Third Fleets and were now heading directly for Earth. He wanted nothing more than to order his people into pursuit of the Motherships before they could attack the planet, and he would have were it not for the fresh and untouched group of eight Hat'ak's, three Shal'kra's and the Dhan'hak class Commandship that was closing in on his position.

"Order Commodore Han to regroup First Fleet. I want him to concentrate on the Hat'ak's. Third Fleet will take the Shal'kra's."

Commander Farrow passed the orders onto the communication officer and then turned back to the Admiral. "What about Second Fleet, sir?"

Kent shook his head as he watched the second wave of Motherships bear down upon him. "Launch the courier now but put him in a holding pattern. I want him ready to jump as soon as I give the order."

Farrow nodded and turned back to his station. The Motherships were less than five minutes out.

Goa'uld Commandship 'War Hammer'

Hek'at leaned upon the main console and smiled grimly as he watched the Tau'ri vessels reform themselves into a blockade between his ships and the planet. The remaining Hat'ak's of the first wave were screaming in towards the planet, unopposed except for a handful of planetary defense cannons firing up from the surface.

The Tau'ri appeared to have made a grave mistake in spreading their available ion cannons around the planet. Yes, it ensured that they could hit a Mothership no matter where it approached from but it also meant that the fire wasn't concentrated enough to make any engagement decisive and although the Hat'ak's were taking a pounding, their shields were, for the most part, holding.

Back on Sohag, almost eighty Jaffa Legions were waiting to travel through the Chappa'ai, once they had secured control of the Tau'ri 'Stargate Command'.

Continued in part 3