Spearhead: Foundations of Sand

by Darksider

The ten year war between the Alliance and Goa'uld Union has reached fever pitch. Gryphon, after a year of intense fighting, is about to fall and O'Neill must convince the members of the Alliance to risk everything in order to bring an end to Bast's Union

3. chapter 3

OKay, here's part 3. Its not the final part yet folks... I really wanted to publish the finished story in part three but I found that I had a LOT of story to tell and its gonna require a Part 4. Which WILL be done before CHRISTMAS!

I figured that with some of the emails I had been getting, some of you were chomping at the bit to get your fix of Spearhead :) So I cut out the fairly polished edited section I had completed to date. I think I have all the plot twists tied up but if you spot any holes, let me know.

Well here it is.

And before you get on with it, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who's kept up with the series. Some of you have been with me since the beginning over two years ago, some of you may have just joined us but I appreciate you all. Even the ones with complaints! You know who you are! You guys kept me honest and though I can't please you all, I hope you all managed to find something worthy of you attention.

Couldn't have done this without all you guys and gals. And don't worry, this journey's coming to an end but as my old gran used to say, 'a rolling stone gathers no moss'.

Or was it, 'never walk under a ladder.'

'A splash of vinegar will clear the itching right up?'

Oh no, that was it. 'It's not the beginning of the end, it's merely the end of the beginning'

Later folks.

Andrew.

13th December, 2004

Chapter 6

Eye of the Hurricane

Outer Rim World

Primary Tok'ra Base

Rath stepped down from the Stargate and was greeted by Selmak and Ducane, a member of the High Council.

"What news?" Selmak asked promptly.

"The Alliance has retaken Gryphon. The Tau'ri have persuaded the rest to attack Sohag and they are preparing their combined fleet to strike." Rath replied grimly.

"And our offer?" Ducane asked intently.

Rath shook his head. "They refused. Politely, of course. They said that a handful of Tok'ra soldiers would make little contribution on the field of battle."

Selmak sighed and turned away. The other two Tok'ra could see he was torn. Ducane shook his head. "What are the Alliance's chances of success?"

Rath opened his mouth to reply but Selmak looked up sharply and grimaced. "They'll do it. I know O'Neill. Once he sets his mind to something, there's nothing this side of Asgard that could stop him. And those gray bastards have gone to him for help on more than one occasion, a little fact that should tell you all you need to know right there."

Rath nodded in wearied agreement. "It will take years but the Goa'uld, both Separatist and Unionist, are a corpse that doesn't know its dead yet."

Ducane raised an eyebrow at the colorful expression from Rath. He had spent so long among the Tau'ri that annoyed him so, he was starting to sound like them. The Councilman frowned. "What will this mean to us? What will an Alliance victory do to our plans?"

"Nothing good." Selmak replied. "Yet for the life of me I can't see a way of stopping them that won't plunge the Galaxy into another ten thousand years of darkness."

"We have to find a way!" Ducane countered. "If it is the Alliance and not the Tok'ra who succeed in destroying the Goa'uld, the Tok'ra who have fought the System Lords for millennia, how long do you think it will be before the general fear of what we are turns the Alliance against us!? Only the goodwill generated by our being the saviors of the Galaxy will prevent our eventual destruction!"

"It won't be that way…" Selmak began weakly.

The other two Tok'ra stared at him implacably and Selmak sighed in disgust. "So what's our alternative? Sabotage the Alliance so that we can pick up the pieces and lead the Galaxy to victory? Face it, the Tok'ra will never be trusted, not completely, not after what the Goa'uld have done to the Galaxy and destroying the Alliance, even hindering it, would turn us into the very villains that you fear the Galaxy already perceive us as. Is this what the Tok'ra has been reduced to? Public relations?!"

"What do you suggest?" Rath asked intently.

Selmak shrugged helplessly. "The only thing we can do. Join the Alliance. Completely. None of this allied power nonsense. Even the Adenan, Tollan and Susparti, notorious xenophobes and isolationists, have joined the Alliance unreservedly."

"The Alliance will not give us hosts! How can we join a political entity that prevents us from procuring the very thing we need to survive." Ducane responded hotly. "And with all the member races sharing medical research and technology, we cannot even attract the incurably ill because there are, full all intents and purposes, no more ill people in the Allliance!"

"We'll find a way." Selmak replied tightly. "The immediate goal is to change the perception of our race by the rest of the Galaxy for by the end of war with the Goa'uld, if we are still perceived as 'parasites' by the majority of the Alliance…that's it."

He looked off into the distance, unable to see past a future that he hoped would never come to pass. "We'll be next."

23:04 ZULU

August 14th 2010

Bast's Fortress Palace, Sohag

Hek'at stalked the corridors of the Palace in a foul mood. Upon arriving from Gryphon, Hek'at had learned of Bast's order to pull pretty much the entire Core World defensive fleet to Sohag, in preparation of a counter-attack upon the Alliance fleet at Gryphon.

He knew the reasoning behind the strike and from a certain point of view, it also made a lot of sense, but he knew that it was also just as certainly a mistake. Nearly six years of constant warfare against the Separatists and against the Alliance had steadily reduced the number of ships in the Union Fleet from over three thousand, to less than fifteen hundred. The Separatists were in no better shape, whereas the Alliance just seemed to continue growing at a staggering rate.

For thousands of years, the System Lords had rarely engaged in full scale warfare, preferring to hit their enemies where they were weak, hardly ever head on and in force. Since the Alliance had come onto the scene, the System Lords, be they Union or Separatist, had been forced to fight for the lives against each other and against the Tau'ri who seemed to take on all-comers and prevail.

And why not, he brooded darkly, it wasn't as if the System Lords hadn't gone out of their way to make friends with any of the space-going civilizations it had been unable to conquer. It had hurt when the Sintesians had joined the Alliance, especially since they still hadn't managed to learn where the bear's homeworld was. Their membership had given the fledgling Alliance a massive boost that had put them on the path to greater things.

The Tollan. Damn them to hell. A thousand years of isolation and Apophis, with his toady, Zipakna have to go and piss them off by bombarding their homeworld. That attack had obviously been enough to rouse them from their self-imposed isolation just so they could sink their knife in to the Union's belly. And let's not even mention the Susparti.

The thrice-damned lizards had held off every attack the System Lords had sent their way for over three hundred years. Though their rate of technological progress was slow compared to the Tau'ri, it equaled that of the Goa'uld and thus, they were more than equal to the task of opposing any advance a System Lord cared to undertake. Now that they had joined the Alliance, their centuries long experience was no doubt improving Alliance technology and methodologies by leaps and bounds!

Why!? Hek'at cursed, what was it about the Tau'ri that drew completely disparate cultures that had remained purposefully isolated throughout their existence into their Alliance like a long lost member of the family. They were like some strange galactic adhesive that rolled through space, picking up the lint of civilizations that would otherwise prefer to remain alone. They united peoples that were at war. The brought trust where there had only been intrigue and deception.

It was like the Galaxy had given rise to anti-bodies that were anti-ethical to everything the Goa'uld believed in and were devoted to removing every last vestige of the System Lords like they would remove a cancer from its host.

Hek'at shook his head. He knew he was getting tired when he begun to wax philosophical, especially about his enemies. Coming to a junction in the corridors of the Palace, he turned towards Bast's quarters, where he knew she would be at this time of night.

The Palace was quiet, and he only crossed paths with a few Jaffa with whom he shared a few words. He tried to keep his finger on the pulse of the Legions, all the better to know of the state of the union. The Jaffa were everywhere but also ignored by the Goa'uld. This allowed them to hear everything while acknowledging nothing. Information was quietly shared amongst the hierarchy of the Jaffa, always in the service of their Gods, but increasingly of late, as a means to consider their own destiny.

While a general Jaffa rebellion was by no means on the cards, the Jaffa of the Goa'uld Union had been treated far more respectfully by Bast than by any Seperatist System Lord and as a result, they were far more effective warriors. But a little independence was a dangerous thing, Hek'at was beginning to realize, and while the where still utterly loyal to their Gods, they had become far less fearful, you could say even less religious and it was doubt the Jaffa of the Union would ever acknowledge the orders of a God of the old school.

Regardless of their burgeoning independence, they continued to listen to all the 'courtly' intrigue and a name that kept popping up was Kiptakanae. Apparently, he was on his way back from a week long jaunt round the Union. He appeared to be garnering support amongst the Union leaders, for what, the Jaffa were unable to say, but Hek'at had a sneaking suspicion he was going to try and wrest control of the Union away from Bast.

The last thing they needed right now was a political power struggle, especially when Bast appeared ready to send the entire Core Fleet on a fool's errand.

Deep in thought, he finally arrived at Bast's door. The two Praetorian guards, in full armour and activated helmets that were modeled after a fearsome feline creature on one of Bast's original worlds, stood to attention but continued to block the doorway.

Hek'at didn't smile but nodded respectfully, vaguely pleased by their caution. "I wish to see our Queen."

Before either of the guards could reply, Bast's sweet soprano rang out in the corridor. "Let him through."

The guards, receiving a coded confirmation of the order through their helmet displays, instantly stepped aside and the doors opened obediently.

Hek'at strode inside to be met by the breathtaking sight of Bast stood at the window balcony, wearing a near transparent gown, silhouetted against the moons of Sohag.

She turned to face him, a grim expression that didn't make her delicate features any less beautiful. "I assume from the thunderous set of your brow that you have heard of my order to gather the Core World Fleet to Sohag and attack the Alliance at Gryphon."

"You mock me, my Queen!" Hek'at replied darkly. "This attack will achieve very little, even assuming we are victorious in destroying their fleet. We lack the ships to follow up on whatever gains we make. Even you dare not leave the Core Worlds undefended for long."

"The we will fight for limited gains!" Bast roared angrily. She did not like being questioned by her First Prime in this manner. The kindness she had shown him had given him too much freedom of thought and action. But what if he's right? Just because I disagree with him doesn't make him any less correct in his evaluation.

She visibly reined in her anger and glared at Hek'at. "This attack is not open for debate but if you desire, you may take command of the attack and once you have 'punished' the Alliance fleet to your satisfaction, you may redeploy the Motherships to their original defensive missions. Make no mistake, Hek'at, this attack is a military and political necessity. Kiptakanae is making very wide inroads with some of the more persuadable Union System Lords and I require a victory to offset the loss of Gryphon, no matter how expected that loss had been."

Surrendering to the political logic of the situation, Hek'at bowed in agreement, however reluctantly.

Please with his acquiescence, Bast bestowed a kind smile upon her one-time lover. "I know this has been hard on us, Hek'at, but I get the feeling things are going to get better for us all round." She stepped gracefully over to her chair and sat down, gesturing for Hek'at to sit opposite her.

"Now tell me, First Prime, what happened to turn the tide of war against us on Gryphon. They had superior numbers as usual but our ships are individually stronger. Did the tash'khat missiles perform as designed? What happened, Hek'at?"

Hek'at sat down heavily and wondered where to begin. "First off, my Queen, though you are right that our individual ships are still technologically superior, that gap has steadily declined, especially as the Alliance begins to unravel more and more the mysteries of Asgard technology, something we have been unable to do."

Bast nodded at the comment, her face expressionless despite the great annoyance she felt at the situation. They had no examples of Asgard technology with which to work with, only a few melted components salvaged from Alliance wreckage that were less than useful.

Hek'at continued his report remorselessly. "They utilized a new small craft, a sensor stealthed vessel that also had incredible jamming abilities. Our fire control systems were heavily confused at medium to long ranges and communications were reduced to garbage. One of my Seconds noted certain similarities in their emissions and that of our own sensor/jamming network."

Again, Bast grunted in acknowledgement. "I've known they were working on a countervailing system but my spies had no idea it would be ready so soon or be so effective."

"Apparently, some of the jamming techniques were very similar to that which the Gryphon military used, only several magnitudes more powerful." Hek'at noted ruefully.

"But how…?" Bast began and then realization burst in her mind. "The breakout. Instead of getting the leaders out of the system, they settled for sending a data package containing tactics and techniques that had proven effective against us."

Hek'at nodded. "That was my summation. Regardless, it allowed them to reduce our sensor effectiveness by half and limit our jamming to short ranges only. They then jumped into the system and engaged our fleet. I would estimate that most of the First and Third Fleets made the jump. Everything went as you would expect until the fighters engaged our Death Gliders." His eyes glinted devilishly. "The tash'khat missiles slaughtered them."

"We moved to press home the attack while they were in obvious shock but to my unpleasant surprise, the Alliance Second Fleet dropped out of hyperspace and engaged us, giving the other two fleets time to regroup and outflank us. Their fighter losses were extremely heavy and we inflicted fairly heavy damage to their Second Fleet but their shielding had improved in strength somewhat and combined with the problems our fire control was having, the fleet was soon on the defensive. Our losses were light but that was only because I ceded the system to them. Had I stayed and fought, our losses would have been horrific. Losses that we simply can't afford."

"An unfortunate truth." Bast replied sourly. "What about on the ground?"

The First Prime grimaced and shifted uneasily in his chair. "I wasn't there, of course, but Tal'mac is managing to get the occasional burst transmission through the Alliance jamming to a group of fast cloaked scouts I stationed in the asteroid belt. His signals have informed me as to what transpired after our withdrawal. Again, the Alliance sprung another surprise upon us. The Tau'ri opened the chappa'ai and we closed the Iris device. Unfortunately, the cursed Tau'ri simply walked through the barrier as if it wasn't even there!"

"Oh my, the Tollan actually shared some of their tech!?" Bast exclaimed in pleasant surprise.

Hek'at glared at Bast as her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "I'm glad you're amused, Bast."

Oh, I'm sorry, Hek'at…" She replied contritely. She knew how many Jaffa had died and were still dying as they spoke. "…it's just that I never expected the Tollan to part with their technology. I know they joined the Alliance but I expected it to be an 'interested neutral' sort of contribution."

"If only…" The big Jaffa sighed. "Anyway, they apparently managed to get about half a legion, close to five hundred troops onto the base before the chappa'ai shut down to recharge. Tal'mac attacked twice but the entire assault force was one of their elite armour units of theirs. They smashed his force aside and took level after level. He was forced to pull several Legions off the perimeter to try and stop them from taking the base from the inside and he thought that he had been successful after they stopped but it turned out that entire waves of assault shuttles were waiting in orbit to attack. They swooped down brought their damn shuttles right on top of his lines. The entire outer perimeter collapsed. In places, they were essentially annihilated where they stood. Before they realized it, they were fighting for their lives. After that…"

He sighed heavily. "We were forced to retreat. We've lost the Chappa'ai and with it, the Gryphon system. We simply cannot risk the losses we would be faced with in re-taking the system once more!"

Bast's expression hardened. "Hek'at…" She said warningly.

Raising his hands in defeat, the big First Prime sighed. "I know, the attack needs to proceed regardless."

Looking at his dispirited features, Bast took pity on her First Prime and stepped out from behind her desk and moved over to him. She placed one of her small, delicate hands on top of his massive, rough paw-like fists and smiled. "As it happens, I've been expecting the use of Tollan phasing techniques amongst the Alliance military at some point and have long been working on a potential counter to the technology. My only error was in assuming that it would take several years for the Tollan to overcome their reticence. Regardless, this new ability has allowed them to take Gryphon from us but with a little luck, the phase devices will be essentially useless from now on."

Hek'at expression, which had started out as confused now became openly skeptical.

Bast laughed gently and, without speaking, led Hek'at out of her quarters and down to her primary lab.

Their arrival was met by several of her top engineers who were working hard with several arcane pieces of equipment.

"Show our First Prime what we have been working on to surprise the Tollan with." She ordered her engineers with the air of someone with a grand display that was about to be put on.

The Goa'uld engineers bustled quickly and efficiently and within minutes had several pieces of equipment setup in the primary testing area. Hek'at recognized a particularly battered and half melted piece of technology as a Tollan Phase Device.

Bast frowned slightly as she followed his gaze. "We managed to secure two examples of the phase device in that debacle with Tanneth and Zipakna. We took one apart to see how it works. We've managed to recreate the device to a certain extent but it lacks the power and efficiency of the Tollan device. Thus we cannot phase anything bigger than your fist. We have however, learned a great deal about the physics involved and we put together a Phase-Inhibitor…"

She gestured to the engineers who quickly and efficiently performed a test of their new equipment. The lead engineer attached the Goa'uld phase device to a small test unit, a simple spherical recording unit. After setting a couple of switches, the engineer stood in front of a small rectangular frame that the others had hastily assembled on a nearby bench. The engineer gently lobbed the device towards the center of the frame. As the test unit left his hand, it rippled and faded slightly as the phase device activated. A mere instant later, the unit passed through the center of the frame. An arc of energy crackled between the sphere and the framework and the test unit fell to the floor, completely un-phased and sparking with severe internal damage.

Hek'at watched the demonstration and the nightmares of Alliance Ground Force troopers swarming through the Chappa'ai defenses throughout the Union faded away and he suddenly felt much better about the future course of the war.

18:27 ZULU

August 15th 2010

Chamber of Light, Sintesia

"Well that's it then. Gryphon's free once more." M'Thul stated proudly.

The Susparti Councilor hissed in agreement. "The operation was a success but our fighter losses were most severe. Several hundred small craft for a planet is a fair exchange, but not one I would be comfortable making very often."

Kutsov looked at the Susparti with a grim expression on her face. "Agreed. The initial count puts our losses among the Fighter Corp at nearly five hundred. That's more than we have lost during entire years of conflict. Not to mention that those killed were amongst our most experienced pilots."

"Just when we think we have Bast on the defensive, she pulls another technological trick out of her bag." M'Thul replied sourly. "Had she been any other Goa'uld, we have been rid of her long ago."

"Assassination squads, fleet deep strikes, you name it, we've tried it." Kutsov added for Zuuth Maal's benefit. "She's always been one step ahead of us when she leaves the protective sphere of Sohag."

"What of Admiraal Pattersssson?" Zuuth Maal inquired solicitously.

Kutsov sighed heavily. "He is still critical, I'm afraid. The report I received stated that even if he survives, the damage to his body would be hard to repair completely, even with the best technology the Alliance has to offer. I doubt he will ever be able to resume his rather active position as of Admiral of the Fleet."

"A great shame, indeed." M'Thul replied soberly. "He still remains one of our best strategists, I would hope he doesn't choose to retire completely."

The Councilor for Earth nodded in agreement. "I am sure we can find a position at Command that does not require much of him physically. We have done same for General Stuart already."

She gave another sigh. "This war's diffferent, we've never really consider having to retire soldiers due to old age before. It doesn't look like its going to end anytime soon either."

Zuuth Maal waved her hand casually. "We have beeen fighting for three hundrrred of yourrr years…I would not be overly surprised if it took ussss another three hundrrrred."

Kutsov grinned wryly. "Oh, I do not think it will take that long. We Terrans can be very impatient when comes to getting what we want, and if we want Galaxy free of the Goa'uld, then the snakes had better watch out!"

The Susparti ambassador studied the human leader intently. "So we arrree coming to understand…"

22:05 ZULU

August 15th 2010

Auditorium, Wakazi Base

Supreme Allied Commander, General Jack O'Neill, stepped into the Auditorium, flanked by Admiral Kent, now Admiral of the Fleet, and General Tadeshi Roberts, who had just been named the new Marshal of Ground Force. The previous Ground Force Marshal, General Stuart, had decided to retire for he was now quite old and had only carried on soldiering for so long through sheer force of will. This new offensive would herald the start of a new campaign that would require a new, younger commander, more able to lead at the front, as a good commander should. After his efforts at halting the advance of the mighty Jaffa military machine across his planet, no doubted his ability to lead the ground troops of the Alliance in battle.

The three men took center stage in the massive hall and looked out amongst the sea of faces, officers and NCO's from all the units involved in the upcoming attack. The roster of those present was full of names that were almost legends amongst the civilian population of the Alliance, names that filled the heart of Jaffa with dread. The SG squads, Spearhead Assault Teams, 73rd Sintesian Corp, the Spartans, 111th Heavy Infantry, the Entrican Marines, the Susparti Feydakin, the SGC Rapid Reaction Force, 1st Armoured Regiment, the Special Boat Squads of the Polarian Navy…the elite of the Alliance. In the front row, Brigadier General Carter sat contemplatively alongside the ever-looming form of Teal'c.

Every face, human and alien, male, female or other watched O'Neill intently as he stepped up to the podium and nodded to his ever-present aide, Colonel Katherine Krupskaya, who activated the holographic display behind him.

A massive image of the Sohag system appeared, to scale, but with multiple windows that enlarged certain planets, asteroids and lines of defenses.

"Sohag." O'Neill announced. "Center of the Goa'uld Union and home to Bast and her Legions. The most heavily defended world in the Galaxy known to us and your next target."

A murmur rose up at the General's bluntness but was just as quickly silenced.

O'Neill smiled. "Though the liberation didn't go quite according to plan, it has been an unqualified success. A tremendous victory and no one could blame us for stopping here and making good our gains…but we won't. If its one thing I've learned in all my years of hopping across the Galaxy is that you don't stop fighting just when things are going your way. If we give Bast a chance to regroup, we'll be adding ten years to this war with the Union and that doesn't even count the mopping up of the Separatists.

"The plan is simple. Grand Fleet will advance on Sohag and split into three battlegroups, essentially along the lines of First, Second and Third Fleets. As is becoming operational tactics for Navy-level tactics, Second Fleet will hold position outside the Sohag system and await our call. First and Third will hammer their way to Sohag…"

As O'Neill spoke, the tactical display behind him changed to show the two icons of First and Third fleets carving their way in system. There were multiple plans for how they would attack, would the Motherships attack piecemeal or would they regroup and attack en mass? Would they close the range or engage with long-range fire? These were items to be discussed at an operational level whereas O'Neill was briefing everyone in general terms so that the entire invasion force had a good idea of everyone's role in the plan.

"…and once engaged, Second Fleet will jump past them Goa'uld forces and into the inner system around Sohag. It is there that the SG-Alpha and Spartan elements will deploy from orbit." When he said this, there were a few wry chuckles from those who knew exactly what that meant. "There are three more SG-Teams waiting on Spearhead to repeat what the Spartans did to the Jaffa defending the Stargate here on Gryphon. The double strike will hopefully cause enough confusion amongst the Jaffa for both points of attack to succeed."

"Once the troops are away, Second Fleet will turnaround and engage the Goa'uld fleet in their rear." O'Neill finished. He stepped away from the podium and seemed to relax slightly, speaking to the arrayed soldiers more casually. "Look folks, I've glossed over a lot of the detail there. This isn't going to be a walk in the park. Odds are that the person to your right isn't gong to come home…but this isn't anything new to us. I've been risking my scrawny neck all the way back to the Gulf, long before I'd even heard of the Stargate and I can tell you that nothings really changed. The weapons are more powerful, we're a lot further from home and the price of failure is a lot higher but we're still doing it for the same reasons. For the freedom to choose."

"Just as your ancestors fought from freedom on the beaches of Normandy, or in the forests of Bth'ul…" He added, gesturing towards the nearest Sintesian soldier. "…and other battlefields across time immemorial, we go now to defend those unable to defend themselves. I don't think anything more needs to be said."

O'Neill took a step back and stood ramrod straight to attention, his right hand raised to his brow in salute.

The entire assembly came to its feet simultaneously and returned his salute. A moment of shared emotion flared throughout the auditorium and almost shaking with the fierceness of it all, O'Neill dropped his salute, nodded to them all and strode out the hall.

Admiral Kent stepped up to podium after O'Neill walked out and sighed deeply. "Be seated everyone, we have a lot of things to go over and not much time to do it."

There was a thunderous shuffle as the thousands of troopers sat back down, followed by a sequence of beeps and chirps as General Roberts accessed the podium console and brought up the first ops plan on the massive holographic display behind him.

"As you can see, the lead elements will have to penetrate…"

Three hours later…

To say that the massive assembly area around the reconstruction of Wakazi Base was hectic would be understating the situation by several magnitudes. Hundreds of Fleet Assault Wing dropships were lined up along the edges of the base, loading up with supplies and equipment, readying themselves for the coming assault of Sohag. Thousands upon thousands of troopers from a dozen different worlds were camped out, similarly preparing for the assault. The officers and senior NCO's moved quietly amongst the men and women of the Ground Forces, passing out words of encouragement, sharing a joke or helping with a problem, doing that which soldiers have done for time immemorial, in the hours before battle.

The majority of these troopers were Ground Force regulars that would drop in the second wave but in the northern quadrant of the base, the 'Strike Group' troops were being kitted out with new equipment, the new MkIV Combat armour and new weapons and spending precious time getting familiar with it so that they didn't kill themselves in the assault and save the planet full of Jaffa the trouble.

"This sucks ass!" Private First Class Matt Brodie whined loudly as he picked up his newly issued weapon from the table the unit armourer had setup. "Why can't I keep the M-205?"

First Lieutenant Jon Harper, CO of Charlie Company, 52nd Assault Regiment, otherwise known as the Spartans, sighed heavily as he checked his combat armour's diagnostics once more. His suit's systems were having problems interfacing with their new, XM-80 'Widowmaker' rifle. He spared the PFC a long-suffering look. "You can't get close and personal with a rail gun, troop, now quit complaining and get your ass to the range!" He turned to another of his men who was walking towards the nearby, impromptu firing range. "Porter, get over here, my damn 'puter's acting up again!"

Sgt Chris Porter smiled behind his helmet visor and walked over to his commander with barely feigned exasperation. "You gotta baby it, sir…if you keep insulting the suit, it'll keep messing you around."

Harper glared at the other man, even though he couldn't see through the visor. "It's a machine and I'll be damned before I sweet talk a computer!"

Porter gestured his acquiescence, grinning all the time and began to work swiftly on his commanders suit computer through his own enhanced suit systems. "You know, LT, me and the other line techs are beginning to suspect that the suits are becoming…personable."

"Bullshit." Harper retorted. "A suit's programming doesn't include any artificial intelligence. You're just anthropomorphizing."

Porter shook his head. "There might not be any formal AI governing the suit's but the onboard routines are pretty damn complex, far more than they really needed to be. It's easily possible that after enough time and experience, any complex system might develop…individuality."

Harper studied the platoon tech carefully. "You're serious." He stated.

Porter hesitated and then nodded. "Your suit goes all temperamental now and again, usually when you start shouting at it. Has it ever crapped out on you during a battle?"

"No, but…" Harper paused and considered the implications as Porter finished persuading Harper's suit to open a datalink with his weapon.

"Done, LT." He announced.

Harper grunted in acknowledgement and pressed a couple of controls on his forearm interface. The armour suddenly hissed as the helmet deployed in stages around his head. A collar slid up from the neck, metal plates fanned upwards the back of his head and across the top. As the plates went up, slightly thinner plates slid outwards, horizontally across his face. At eye level, a blue-tinted, transparent screen slid across and connected with the upper section of the helmet that dropped over his forehead.

The Heads-Up-Display came to life, trooper designations, digital compass, satellite map…a wealth of information flowed over him with the ease of familiarity. He brought his XM-80 up and a crosshair appeared that correlated with the aim point of his weapon.

He grinned behind his helmet mask. "Sweet."

The two men stepped over to the range and joined the rest of Charlie Company who were firing at holographic targets fifty meters downrange. Harper smiled wryly as he saw PFC Brodie steadily firing timed shots at numerous agile targets in his alley. Despite his griping about the new weapon, it didn't prevent him from blowing away a different target with each shot.

Harper was about to claim an alley for himself when he saw Lt Col Lyman and Colonel Bannon and another two unfamiliar men in the new MkIV combat armour, making their way towards him. He passed his weapon to Sgt Porter, de-activated his helmet and stepped over to meet his superiors.

"Sir. Ma'am." He greeted them after his helmet had finally retracted, saluting as he did so.

They return his salute casually and Lyman glanced at the men and women on the firing range. "How's are things going?"

"Right on the edge, sir." Harper replied firmly, eyes flickering towards the strangers. They didn't look like guards and their helmets, like his, were retracted. Both looked liked veterans, though.

Lyman caught the glance and smiled. "This is Colonel Kerr Avon and Major Jonas Quinn, of SG-Omega."

Harper instantly recognized the names and offered his hand with sincere respect. "We've heard what you did here on Gryphon, sirs. Its an honor."

Both men shook his hand and nodded in reply but said nothing and Colonel Bannon took up the conversation. "Lieutenant, SG-Omega took a lot of casualties and are officially combat-ineffective."

The taut expressions on the faces of the two men from SG-Omega didn't go unnoticed by the others but Bannon carried on. "Command wants to send them all back to Spearhead but Colonel Avon has convinced me to let him and the survivors join our Strike Group as a slightly oversized platoon."

Harper nodded in understanding and Lt Col Lyman began once more. "Lieutenant, Alpha Company took too many casualties during the Stargate assault here on Wakazi so it's become the Regiment reserve. Charlie Company is the best unit after Alpha so I'll be joining you and we'll be taking point. Meanwhile, I want you help train what we're gonna call Omega Company on the new mark Combat Armour. They'll work with us while Beta and Delta Companies pair off. Understood?"

Harper nodded firmly. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Bannon replied. "We'll leave you gentlemen to it." And with that, she and Lyman walked off towards the base facilities.

Harper turned to the Colonel and the Major and smiled wryly. "I guess that other than the improved computer and armour durability, the only thing we need to work on is the 'jump pack'."

The other men's eyes seem to come alive.

With the introduction of anti-gravity devices such as those built into the fighters, bombers and transports of the Alliance fleet, it was a junior engineer at the Scientific Support Division who wondered why you couldn't strap one to your back and essentially fly like Superman. Keen to prove his theory, that young, eager engineer jury rigged a low-power anti-grav unit to a harness and tried it out. After spending nearly two months in hospital, recovering from a large number of broken bones, the engineer had realized far too late that there was almost no way to accurately control direction or speed. The fighters and bombers, after all, had reaction control thrusters to help maneuver their craft when balancing on their AG units.

That same, wiser, engineer had plenty of time to redesign the anti-grav unit so that it would project downward force, no matter its orientation. The only thing it's wearer had to control was the intensity of its projecting, allowing them to control their effective altitude.

"I've read the specs, Lieutenant…" Major Quinn began animatedly. "…and I can't understand why I never thought of it when I designed the MkIV."

Harper shrugged. "Shit happens, sir. The chameleon cloak was good enough for us but I have to admit, you're gonna love the new gear. I just hope you have a head for heights." Smiling, he tapped a control on his armour that activated his communication gear. "Master Sgt D'evilenger, we have new orders. I need you to arrange for a two company training drop in the next hour. The Fleet ships out in ten hours so we don't have much time to get this done."

"Acknowledged. Out." The Master Sergeant replied, his voice giving no hint of the near impossible task he had just been given. Harper wasn't worried, he knew the Master Sergeant would get it arranged.

"Shall we get to your people, sir?" Harper suggested. "A good half hour of instruction on the controls and then we pair up one of your people with one of mine and go jump."

Colonel Avon's smile was beatific. "Sounds funs."

05:42 ZULU

August 16th 2010

Spearhead

Master Sergeant Booth surveyed the troopers of SG-Beta, SG-Delta and SG-Gamma milling around the staging area and shook his head. The Stargate had been maneuvered on its rails outside the Gate Facility so as to provide easy access for all three Assault Teams and the troops of the assault teams, veterans all, were now experimenting with their newly issued combat armour. The armour was the MkIII version with the chameleon skin and phase units that only just becoming available in large enough quantities for the line troops to replace the MkII. The MkIV with its jump pack was still fresh of the drawing boards and only a few hundred had yet been produced.

The view of hundreds of waiting troopers was nothing new for Booth, it was simply the fact that every few seconds a trooper would fade from view as they experimented with their chameleon cloaks that wasn't available on the MkII. This made for an eye-searing effect, almost like an intense heat distortion that would ripple across the group and back again. One trooper would appear only for another to fade. Booth turned away from the sight, bringing two fingers up to massage his temple.

"Christ, that's giving me a headache, Teal'c." The grizzled seargeant moaned.

Teal'c smiled wryly. "Maybe you should think about the headache they will provide for Bast's Jaffa. The Wraith units proved most effective in retaking Gryphon, they should be equally effective in taking the Fortress Palace on Sohag."

Booth grunted in agreement and suddenly came to a semblance of attention as a small electric buggy swiftly approached them bearing Brigadier General Carter. Teal'c noticed the man's shift and turned just as the electric buggy pulled up in front of them.

"Teal'c, Booth, how are things going?" Carter asked promptly.

"See for yourself, ma'am." The NCO replied and waved his hand across the still fading in and out troopers.

"Holy cow! There's something you don't see every day…" Carter replied with a grimace. She stared at the sight for several more seconds, seemingly hypnotized by the view before she shook her head and turned to the two men. "I'm heading back to Gryphon to rejoin the Fleet before they head off to Sohag. Would you two care to join me?"

Teal'c inclined his head. "I would be honored."

The Master Sergeant shook his head in distaste. "Oh no. All respect to the navy pukes but I ain't cut out for fleet duty." He shuddered dramatically. "Was on a Fleet destroyer a while back. The food's lousy, the quarters are cramped and the air's recycled. I prefer it down in the mud so I think I'll just stay here and make the transit to Sohag through the Stargate. But you kids go have fun!" He ended with semi-false cheeriness.

Carter smiled wryly at the old master sergeant's response. "Suit yourself, Master Sergeant. We'll see you on Sohag."

Command Central, Fortress Palace, Sohag

Hek'at sat in Command Central, studying the strategic hologram with increasing dissatisfaction. Bast had departed through the Chappa'ai on a diplomatic mission to the Seperatist System Lord Ran'toul, a major player amongst the Goa'uld who was apparently considering joining the Union. Bringing in a new partner and their extra ships before the strike on Gryphon and the near full strength of the Alliance Fleet would be a boost to the morale and fleet strength of monumental proportions.

Since Bast first returned to mainstream civilization over a decade ago, and forged the Union out of the squabbling System Lords, her territory had steadily expanded in all directions but one, towards the Alliance. The Separatist System Lords that were actively hostile to the Union, though individually powerful, were each eventually wore down under Bast's continual attacks. Those Separatists that took a live and let live attitude, Bast left alone. Only Lord Yu posed a major threat to her Union, for his territory was vast and even Ra and Apophis spent much time and effort defending against his predations.

It was ironic that though Yu claimed to be a Separatist, his own forces rarely did any fighting themselves, much preferring to intimidate nearby System Lords into fighting for them, creating his own 'Union of Terror'.

Hek'at shook his head at the machinations of the Goa'uld. They could be so tiresome at times. Nevertheless, his eyes flittered back to the hologram. Space was simply so big that the very concept of 'borders' was somewhat loose. The Chappa'ai network, by its very nature, exacerbated the situation by placing colonized worlds haphazardly around the Galaxy. Most starfaring races preferred, most logically, to colonize worlds that were physically close to each other, increasing their mutual protection considerably.

The Alliance now contained a considerable amount of territory, mainly due to the widely spread worlds that had joined the Alliance. There were, of course, several worlds in the Alliance that were far from friendly 'territory', most notable of which was the Sintesian colony that was on the far side of the Galaxy. Another world of note was Gryphon.

Oh, how that name burned in his mind. The discovery of that world, around 3,000 light years from Sohag, had been viewed with eminent satisfaction. A world with a population of billions, right on their doorstep, had practically begged for enslavement. Unfortunately, the Alliance got there first and the subsequent defeats of the Union at Gryphon had finally given the Alliance a priceless gift, a secure staging post less than three days travel from Sohag.

A situation that had given his war planners fits.

Earth was over 20,000 light years from Sohag and, even with Union hyperdrive efficiencies, that was well over two weeks travel.

A not interminable journey, as his earlier deep strike on Earth had proven but far from ideal. No, if they were to ever make progress against the Alliance, the first step on that journey would be to retake Gryphon. He glanced at a breakdown of the ships arrayed for the attack. It was an impressive list, showing hundreds of Motherships, of all classes and variants, and thousands of udajeets and tel'tacs carrying the new tash'khat missiles.

It was a sign of the damage O'Neill and the Alliance had inflicted upon him when all he could do was sit here and hope it was enough.

Susparti Strike Carrier Death Nest

First Lieutenant Harper stepped off the ramp of his Orca dropship and sniffed the air onboard the Susparti carrier cautiously.

"Shit. Who the hell farted!" PFC Brodie cursed behind him.

"Only Mickey could produce a smell that bad!" Corporal David Goins replied as he chucked a Ground Force issue camel-pak in the direction of his brother.

Corporal Mickey Goins gave a long-suffering sigh as he caught the improvised projectile with ease. "If any of you idiots had bother to read up on the Susparti, you'd know the air mixture they breathe has a small but noticeable sulphur content." He replied quietly. "Nothing harmful to humans really, but enough to make the air smell bad to virgin lungs like ours. Give it a few hours and you won't notice it anymore."

"Crap, after twenty odd years of living with you, Mickey, I'm already used to it!" David replied, causing everyone, even Mickey to laugh.

Master Sergeant Jason D'evilenger stepped off the Orca and glared at Mickey. "Quit your yapping, Goins, and get your ass in gear. Go find out where we're being bunked on this overgrown cheesegrater."

The Corporal growled his disgust at his assignment as he walked off to find the Deck Officer.

"Want to see new sights? Smell new smells? Join the Ground Force today!" PFC Shane Meguel announced with a grimace as he stepped off the Orca and took his first breath of canned Susparti air.

"Just another day in the Corp…" Sgt Porter replied as he joined them, his nose twitching at the sudden assault upon his senses.

The rest of the Spartans were stepping off the other Orcas arrayed the length of the Strike Carriers main hanger. Numerous Susparti deck crew were watching the arriving humans with wariness. This was the first time for many of the Susparti of meeting an alien race. There had been some concern amongst the upper ranks about exposing the troops to such a potentially troublesome situation but Admiral Kent had overruled such concerns simply because they had nothing in the Alliance inventory to match the Susparti Strike-class Carriers. The Alliance Ark Royal-class carriers were excellent at what they did, carrying fighters to a combat zone but when it came to fighting, the massive vessels were simply too weak to stand up to any damage, as the three suicide Death Gliders had proven over Gryphon when they crippled the Daniel Jackson. The Strike Carriers, however, were fairly well armed but extremely well shielded and armoured; better than most of the Alliance battleships in fact.

Everyone in the main hanger looked up as a soft tone filled the air and attracted everyone's attention and a familiar human female's voice announced,

Command briefing in the deck 11 auditorium in thirty minutes. Repeat, command briefing in the deck 11 auditorium in thirty minutes.

Harper thought that Colonel Bannon sounded mildly pissed and smiled wryly. We've got three days on this tub and the Old Lady's already calling a briefing. Shit, she's gonna be ready to chew through trinium by the time we get to Sohag!

"Master Sergeant, get these people to their bunks first then get some chow." He ordered tiredly. "I've got a meeting to go to."

07:10 ZULU

August 16th 2010

Royal Chambers

Queen Anne looked up from the datapad she had been reading as the main doors opened up and three familiar faces walked through. King Yamato turned away from a conversation with one of his aides and made a sound of pleasant surprise as he recognized Supreme Allied Commander O'Neill, General Carter and Teal'c come to a stop before the Royal thrones.

Disregarding protocol, Queen Anne stood up and swiftly moved down towards her visitors. "My friends, I'm glad you could make it one last time before the Fleet departs."

O'Neill smiled wryly. "We're less busier than our fleet commanders, but not by that much. Nevertheless, we're here, your Highnesses."

"Yes." Anne replied pleasantly. "Yamato and I won't keep you long, we simply wanted to thank you one last time for everything you've done and ask you if there's anything else we can provide you with that you don't already have."

Carter shook her head in disbelief. "Your Majesty, Gryphon has done more than its share already. The entire Alliance is in awe of the resistance your people put up during the Occupation. Even the Rebel Jaffa have heard the name of Gryphon spoken with profound respect amongst the Jaffa that still serve the System Lords."

Teal'c nodded sagely. "You are indeed warriors of note. I know of few worlds that have survived a Goa'uld invasion as well as you have done."

The Queen's face saddened for a moment. "But the price was high."

"It always is, your Majesty." O'Neill replied quietly.

They were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, until King Yamato exhaled with the air of a man putting the past behind him. "Well, we won't keep you much longer, I imagine you still have a few things to sort out before the trip."

"Just a few things…" O'Neill replied with feeling but he smiled as he said it. "Its only a short hop to Sohag from Gryphon, less than three days, despite having to avoid their perimeter patrols. With any luck, the earlier attacks will have drawn off most of her reserve forces to bolster the defenses that we hit pretty hard."

Yamato frowned slightly. "I've seen some of the early recon reports that say not as many Motherships have turned up at those places as Intelligence had hoped."

O'Neill looked at Carter who had been monitoring the Union response for him. He had obviously missed the report she had put in his mail queue and she shrugged. "Barely half the reinforcements we expected turned up after we had moved on. Intelligence is split in half. Some are hoping the other ships will drift in over the next couple of days, the rest believe Bast doesn't have the ships to send."

The Supreme Allied Commander snorted in mild amusement when he heard that. "The Fleet's good, Sam, but not that good. Bast has plenty of ships all right, the question is whether she's willing to take those ships from other obligations which, as Intelligence seems to have forgotten, was the whole point of the exercise. No, if those Motherships haven't turned up yet, then she still kept a hefty reserve defending the Core Worlds. When we get upstairs, pass word to Kent that once we attack Sohag, the possibility of Union reinforcements is high."

"Yes, sir." Carter replied firmly.

Queen Anne had listened to this quietly but now she felt she had to speak. "You still intend to attack, even though Bast may have more ships than you're prepared to fight?"

O'Neill smiled. "I'm not crazy, your Majesty. If sufficient Union reinforcements turn up, I'll order the retreat but we have an opportunity here that would be a shame to pass up."

"Then may light shine, in all the dark places you walk." The Queen replied gently, giving them the traditional Gryphon benediction bestowed upon soldiers going into battle.

"Thank you, your Majesty." O'Neill replied for all of them. And with that, they turned and departed the Royal Chambers.

It was almost time.

Sohag

Lord Kiptakanae sat in the dark in his chambers considering his plan. Yu had been goading him to assassinate Bast for years, stoking his anger so that he would do something rash so that Yu can come in and take over.

Kiptakanae smiled. His anger towards Bast had been real, the though of her consorting with a mere Jaffa disgusted him and, had Yu not urged him to attack Bast, he just might have done something foolishly rash. Yu's obvious self-interest, however, had been like a splash of cold water that had brought him to his senses. No, instead of a rash and unprepared assassination, he had waited, bided his time and built up his allies amongst the Union Council so that when he did move, he could instantly replace Bast and present a firm front of defiance against Yu's probably predation in such a time of chaos.

One part of his plan had been the rumors of a general Jaffa uprising. Such rumors were being carefully stoked by him. Oh, their grievances with Bast's treatment of them of late were real enough, and several senior Jaffa were making noises of dissatisfaction but a general uprising wasn't really on the cards. But it would, howver, make a convenient excuse when he killed everyone on the command center. He could tell the other Union members that the Jaffa tried to kill everyone but he and Bast fought back bravely, Bast only succumbing to a treacherous strike by her trusted First Prime.

Oh yes, that would play well with the other Unionists. They would fall behind him and he would lead the Union to victory over the cursed Tau'ri and their Alliance and the other Separatists would fall before him one by one.

A low chuckle of satisfaction filled the darkness.

10:54 ZULU

August 16th 2010

Gryphon Orbit

As the elevator headed towards the bridge, Carter studied her old friend out of the corner of eye. Jack was looking far too pleased with himself and she suppressed a sigh of exasperation. He was always like this when he was planning to spring a surprise on someone.

The minutes passed in companionable silence between the two but soon enough, the elevator slowed and they stepped out onto the bridge of the ENS Ark Royal.

"First, Second and Third Fleet's ready to move out, General." Admiral Kent announced, hands clasped behind his back in order to hide his impatience. "Would you like to fill me in on just what it is we're waiting for? Grand Fleet is ready and waiting to jump as we speak."

O'Neill nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Admiral, but we have one more friend coming to join our little gathering at Sohag and I wouldn't want them to miss out on all the fun."

Kent frowned in confusion, glancing at the databoard that showed his fleet tally. All of his ships were accounted for, though O'Neill did say his was going to arrange for some more units. From where? We stripped the Alliance defenses to the bone to assemble Grand Fleet…I sure as hell don't know where he's going to get anymore warships!

"Relax," O'Neill soothed the other man. "I received word by other means and…" The General's pocket began to beep softly, drawing both their attentions downward. O'Neill looked up and smiled. "They're heeeereeeee." He announced in a sing-song voice.

Admiral Kent didn't need to feign confusion as he looked at his superior officer as if he'd gone mad when behind him, his sensor officer twitched as his console suddenly screamed for attention.

"Admiral, incoming hyperspace signature! Incredibly fast, and it's big, sir…coming out, right in front of us!" The officer reported nervously. They weren't expecting any ships to arrive at Gryphon at all.

"Raise shields! Launch the ready fighters!" Kent ordered immediately.

"Belay that!" O'Neill overrode the Admiral.

The crew gasped and Kent turned to O'Neill incredulously. He had just enough time to turn back and face the forward bridge windows before the space in front of Grand Fleet twisted and rippled tightly before seemingly exploding to reveal a massive, silver/gray starship that dominated the entire area of space. The hundreds of Alliance vessels were like minnows around it.

"That's an Asgard Battlecruiser!" Admiral Kent breathed out in awe.

"Yep." O'Neill replied, smugly. "My old buddy, Thor, should be over there. In fact, we should be…"

"Incoming communication from the Asgard ship." A communication officer called out weakly, his face still pasty with shock.

"Onscreen." Admiral Kent ordered instantly, his awe plain to see.

The small, unassuming figure of Thor sat in his command chair filled the forward viewer. "Greetings, O'Neill. I'm sorry that we are late, but we had an urgent delivery to make."

"Not a problem, Thor, I'm just glad you could make it for the final showdown." O'Neill replied.

Thor inclined his head. "You have given us much, O'Neill, and asked for little. Though desperately that we need this ship back home, I can offer it's service to you for at least a short while. Long enough to deal with Bast and her Union, once and for all."

"Good to have you along, old buddy." O'Neill replied laconically before turning to a stunned Admiral Kent. "Admiral, Grand Fleet is ready for your orders."

A smile blossomed on the middle-aged Admiral's face as he scanned the faces arrayed before him, representing over a dozen different species. The Goa'uld had no idea what was coming for them. "Navigator, set a course for Sohag and feed the co-ordinates to the helm."

Most of the crew retuned to their tasks with renewed optimism as the navigator tapped in the final sequence and turned back to the Admiral. "Helm acknowledges the course, Admiral. The Fleet has responded and hyperdrives are powered up." She announced.

With one last glance at O'Neill and Thor, he gestured to the navigator. "Then make the jump…"

As the massive Asgard battlecruiser turned ponderously around, the lead elements of the Grand Fleet flashed into hyperspace. The first wave of carriers formed up with their cruiser escorts and destroyer screens and followed swiftly on the heels of the leading destroyers and corvettes. Space rippled and twisted as ship after ship directed massive energies into the folding of multiple, higher order dimensions that allowed them to traverse the vast distances of space in the blink of an eye.

The people on the western hemisphere of Gryphon watched in awe as their night sky was lit up with the tremendous glare of Cronau radiation from the departing ships. So numerous was the Grand Fleet that it took nearly ten minutes for the main body to make the jump to hyperspace and, after the final group of carriers had departed, the Asgard vessel, so sleek and powerful, brought up the rear with its escort of Alliance Prometheus-class destroyers and engaged its hyperdrive. The final elements of Grand Fleet departed the Gryphon system, leaving the battered but intact ENS Daniel Jackson to watch over the planet, and the ongoing struggle to rid the Jaffa from its surface once and for all.

August 18th 2010

'War Hammer', high orbit of Sohag

"First Prime, I've just received a disturbing report." Ok'ran announced hesitantly.

He turned away from the mesmerizing view of so many Motherships, over twice as many as had attacked Earth and they still hadn't all arrived yet! There were golden pyramids of all sizes, as far as the eye could see and beyond. Literally hundreds of ships and enough firepower to destroy entire solar systems, they were all under his command. The thought made him a little giddy.

"And this report says…?" He replied casually.

His eyes grim with foreboding, the Second didn't try to soften the blow. "One of our mid-range bombers, a little over a thousand light years away, picked up a massive hyperspace wavefront heading away from Brakash, towards Thebes only sixty-two light years away."

Hek'at's eyebrows crinkled. Thebes he knew intimately, being a major resource and manufacturing Core World. Brakash was familiar too…he'd seen them both highlighted on a starchart very recently.

Reading his confusion correctly, Ok'ran swiftly supplied an answer. "Thebes and Brakash are both systems on a least time course from Sohag to Gryphon. They are on our planned course for when we depart tomorrow."

The pieces quickly fell into place for the First Prime. "O'Neill's coming here!?" He concluded incredulously. "Is he insane?!"

Ok'ran shook his head ruefully. "I can attest to his sanity quite well indeed. Regardless, it appears he has either anticipated our intended assault and has launched a spoiling attack or…"

"…he was always coming for Sohag, even before he re-took Gryphon." He concluded flatly. "Fek'shoa! How long till he gets here?"

The First Prime shrugged. "Assuming he doesn't linger to pound Thebes since we've left it essentially defenseless…" A part of his mind was amazed at the cutting remark that seemed to slip out, unfiltered. Was he feeling reckless now that Armageddon appeared to be coming?

"Yes, yes…Bast ordered the Core World fleet to converge on Sohag, not the most optimum of solutions, we've talked about this before...just answer the question!" Hek'at interrupted patiently.

Barely pausing to marvel at his good fortune (For Hek'at in a bad mood would surely have taken his head for such a statement), he provided an answer. "Tomorrow, at the eleventh cycle of the day."

Hek'at's eyes went wide. "But that's almost exactly when we had intended to depart for Gryphon! There's no way O'Neill could have known that!"

Ok'ran nodded. "I agree. I believe this is simply proof that the Universe has an evil sense of humour."

Sighing heavily, Hek'at walked over to his desk and slumped down into the comfy chair behind it. His weariness was a palpable thing, so much so that even his recent sorrow toward Bast had been much reduced, as if he could not even summon the effort to remain angry her for pushing him away.

"Well this makes things simpler. Send word to the diplomatic mission to Lord Sivar. Inform Bast that I think she should return to Sohag as soon as possible since no longer do we have to go to O'Neill for he has decided to place himself in our very laps." He looked up at Ok'ran. "Have you informed the Mothership commanders?"

"I simply placed them on a higher state of alert. I was not sure how much you would want them or anyone else to know. Everyone's morale is fragile at the moment and I think Lord Kiptakanae is ready to try and replace Bast as head of the Union. It would be like him to use this crisis to his advantage."

Hek'at held up his hand. "I'll deal with Kiptakanae, you concentrate on the attack. Bast's people down in the labs are putting the finishing touches to the phase-inhibitor and are ready to install it to the Iris."

"Will it work?" Ok'ran asked skeptically. He had long since become pessimistic during this war. Continual encounters with the luck of O'Neill and the Alliance tend to have that effect upon a person.

Hek'at didn't take offense, knowing how Ok'ran thought. "It'll work." He replied.

Chapter 7

End Game

August 19th 2010

Sohag System

The Sohag system's asteroid belt was incredibly thick. During the birth of the system, had all this rubble coalesced into a planet, it would have been a real monster of a world. Now, however, rocks, twenty miles in diameter carved destructive paths through literal swarms of asteroids that were merely a mile of so across, as the curved on paths affected by the gravity of the sun and the planets, tenuous though that effect was.

Suddenly though, a much stronger gravitic field began to affect the courses of the asteroids in a region several degrees across, for high above the asteroid belt, space warped and twisted and was torn asunder in an explosion of light as wave after wave of Alliance vessels dropped out of hyperspace in the enemies home system.

The alarm jolted Hek'at out of his study of a slate displaying the new Alliance ships designs. He had been trying to calm down after another fight with Bast who had refused to come home via the Chappa'ai and instead was coming back to Sohag with reinforcements from Lord Sivar. Welcome though those ships might be, and despite the problems between them of late, she was still his Queen and he her First Prime and the thought of her away from his protection during such a crucial time was more than he could bear.

Putting aside his frustration, he scrambled from his small office, across the corridor and onto the bridge of the War Hammer. "Report!" He ordered tersely.

Ok'ran passed him a slate that displayed a current scan of the system. "We just picked up a massive hyperspace emergence near the belt, on a least time course from Thebes. Energy signatures are consistent with Alliance design standards and the native vessels from their various member worlds."

Hek'at quickly scanned the slate and looked back up at Ok'ran with surprise. "There's barely the same number of ships he used to retake Gryphon."

The Second smiled tightly. "Which would have been enough to overrun Sohag's defenses had we deployed our reserves to reinforce the worlds that the Alliance had hit a week ago."

"And had Bast not brought all our Core World Fleet to assemble here, where we outnumber him two to one." Hek'at finished with a quick grin at the capriciousness of the universe. "Get us moving, Ok'ran."

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal, Grand Fleet

Admiral of the Fleet Kent studied his screens letting no sign of the dismay he felt cross his face and, for a moment, he considered a full retreat. A tide of red seemed to sweep across the holographic display, directly towards the blue cluster of dots that represented Grand Fleet. The ships in each of the five oversized 'battlegroups' looked small compared to the depth and scale of the Union Fleet bearing down on them and Admiral Kent could feel the tension thicken amongst the battle staff in the Flag CIC. Though these were veterans of a dozen battles and hundreds of skirmishes, even the numbers they faced today were enough to give them pause.

Hiding his horror at the unanticipated and unpleasant enemy strength before him, Kent watched the two fleets close the distance and reminded himself of the Second Fleet reserve force that was waiting two light years outside the system. The large gold icon, nestled amongst the blue of the reserve force, was his ace in the hole. The mere sight of an Asgard Battlecruiser had instilled fear into the hearts of Goa'uld for millennia and what with the recent lack of Asgard presence in the Galaxy for the past year, the arrival of one of their feared cruisers would hopefully shake the Union to its core.

As the tendrils of the Union Fleet seemed to reach out to encompass them, he began to issue orders in a firm voice that betrayed no nervousness or doubt, only a supreme confidence that steadied the nerves of those around him.

"Bring the fleet to flank speed, course 050 mark 005 absolute, -20,000km on the Z axis. Order the Nimitz group to intercept that flanking pincer coming in at bearing 075 mark 070 but tell Commodore Han to stay mobile and not to get pinned down. We have superior fire control systems so let's use it. Have the Shinano battlegroup break by squadrons and begin rolling back their light Motherships…and order all fighters to launch."

The last order, though expected, caused the staff to wince in genuine pain. The new missile the Jaffa had introduced, the 'mace', had cause losses amongst the fighter corp to rise by nearly 1000. Entire Wings had been savaged and although the Sabre fighters and Pegasus bombers were the Alliance's only plentiful resource, they weren't limitless and casualties today were going to be horrific.

"Their mission?" The Fleet Flight Ops officer inquired with suppressed emotions.

"Space superiority." Kent replied equally tonelessly. "Corvettes are to open a hole so we can send the bombers in to hit the heavies."

Standard tactics, fully expected by Hek'at and his Seconds but expecting a thing doesn't mean you can actually stop a thing. Though the losses would be far more than he'd be able to live with, Kent knew they'd get the job done.

Commander Singh, the TAO, narrowed his eyes as the Union Fleet deployed even further. "The War Hammer's coming out to meet us." He announced.

All eyes turned from their consoles to look briefly at the massive blood red icon of the Dhan'hak class Commandship. As the rest of the Motherships spread out to encompass the Alliance fleet, the 'War Hammer' appeared to be charging straight forward to embrace the enemy directly.

This was particularly brave of Hek'at considering the pounding his Commandship had received at the Battle of Sol. Of course, I'd feel confident too if I had close to three hundred Motherships backing me up Kent, thought wryly.

Shaking his head, the Admiral of the Fleet glanced at O'Neill, who was still stood silently near the entrance of the CIC.

His face unreadable, O'Neill moved over to the Admiral, leaning in close so as not to be overheard. "What's wrong?"

"There's too many ships." Kent replied flatly. "A lot more than we were expecting. How did Bast guess we were coming? She must have pulled most of the Core World Fleet to Sohag to get the numbers she has here!"

O'Neill grimaced. "Either she has far better intelligence on us that I'd like think about or it was coincidence."

"Bloody hell!" Kent's eyes widened in sudden realization. "Bast was obviously preparing for a major assault against somebody, probably us."

"Agreed." O'Neill replied. "And we walked right into it. I've always said the Universe had a particularly perverse streak of humor."

"Well that nails it then. We can't retreat. We have to nail this fleet here before it takes out Earth." Kent replied.

"Can you do it?" O'Neill asked firmly. Though Kent was right about the need to engage the enemy here, now, rather than in orbit of an a Alliance world, he didn't want this attack to be a suicide effort.

The other man smiled slightly. "They'll know they were in a fight, sir."

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

Hek'at nodded in satisfaction as his force began to try and flank the Alliance force. Their numbers were less than what had been used to liberate Gryphon so they must have left a guardian force there. Of course, the ships they had brought with them now would have been enough to overwhelm the normal Mothership force guarding Sohag but thanks to Bast's seemingly precipitous order to assemble the Core World fleet at Sohag has given them an opportunity to destroy a significant percentage of the Alliance Fleet right on their very doorstep.

He laughed out loud. Oh, things didn't get any better than this.

"First Prime! The Alliance forces are breaking up!" A Second announced.

Hek'at turned from his study of his forces deployments to those of the Tau'ri, "Are any of them trying to make the jump to hyperspace?" He'd been expecting them to immediately turn around and jump out of the system…

"No, First Prime, they continue to close with our forces." The Jaffa replied.

Now Hek'at frowned and exchanged a knowing look with Ok'ran. They were outnumbered and outgunned yet they continued to court battle. In less than three minutes, they would be in optimum weapons range.

"Pass word to the other ships!" Hek'at ordered. "Go for the weaker Tau'ri and Adenan vessels. Ignore the Tollan and Susparti ships for the moment!"

"Kree!" The Jaffa replied.

The massive black and gold pyramid of the War Hammer, over 6,000 metres wide, seemed to glide with menacing grace towards the center of the Alliance formation. It's escorting Shal'kra class Motherships followed in formation with geometric precision, their weapons glowing with barely restrained energy. The other formations of Motherships spread out to encompass the seemingly ragtag Alliance Fleet, who's composition of a dozen different designs, was less than harmonious though far from disorganised. Alliance standard destroyers escorted Tollan cruisers

Literally thousands of Death Gliders, armed with their new tash'khat missiles, erupted from the hangers of the numerous Motherships like bees swarming out of a kicked nest and screamed towards the enemy.

Even though a shot had yet to be fired, the battle had already commenced electronically. Static filled many of the communication channels on both sides and their fire control sensors buzzed and strobed with false energy signals, active jamming and decoy emitters.

The Alliance forces, with Asgard-derived sensors and far more experience with electronic warfare, fared slightly better than the Union Fleet in the, what that famous British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill once referred to as the 'wizard war', the war of the black boxes.

Despite their disadvantage, the Union Fleet outnumbered their foe to such an extent that they could afford to simply target everything, decoy or not. In most situations though, the jamming on both sides was so strong that each ship, Union or Alliance, was reduced to firing almost blindly into the cloud of static, some gunners practically sighting their weapons by staring down the length of their massive barrels.

As the range finally fell, the Jaffa gunners almost slammed their fists down upon their controls and a searing, continual wave of plasma blasts shot out from the Motherships.

Seconds later, a literal rainbow of colour erupted from the Alliance battlegroups. White ion bolts, red graser beams, green plasma fire, orange torpedoes, a blazing mass of energy swept past the equally huge wave of incoming plasma and continued towards the Motherships.

Point-defense cannon on both sides was simply overwhelmed, despite the presence of massive ECM, gigajoules of energy washed over the shields of Union and Alliance alike and, sure enough, ships began to die.

ENS Shinano

The Alliance Battleship Shinano heaved under the assault as plasma blasts slammed into her shields and the helmsmen drove the engines to their limits trying to avoid the worst of it. The crew of this veteran battleship, one of the first built, was just as scarred and battle-hardened as the ship itself.

Captain Francine Renato had steadfastly refused promotion or reassignment to what the rear area types perceived as 'bigger and better things.' A squadron command would look great on her record but she was nothing if brutally honest with herself and she knew that she was a great battleship captain but an average 'commodore'. No, since childhood, she had aspired to be a Captain 'under God', no more, no less.

"Have we got a fire solution yet, Guns?" Renato asked calmly.

"Negative, Captain, there's simply too much jamming for a lock, even tied into the Fleet datalink!" The gunnery officer replied, glaring at his readings with annoyance.

Renato smiled wryly as she glanced over his shoulder at his displays. The screens were a hash of static with definite hints of Mothership energy signatures appearing occasionally but he was obviously reduced to visual targeting with little computer support, making for highly inaccurate firing. "Do what you can, Guns. If I know the Commodore, she'll be making her move any time now."

"Aye, Captain!" The gunnery officer replied almost cheerfully.

As she made her way back to her chair, her Executive Officer, Commander Georgiou Maronitis shook his head grimly and spoke quietly. "Too many damn ships, sir."

Renato's smiled faded slightly and she dropped into her chair with a sigh. "I know, George, but what can we do except press on. You surely realize Bast didn't assemble all these ships to defend against our attack. She had no way of knowing we were coming. No, she was probably coming after the Alliance with this Fleet and Admiral Kent knows it. Better we take her on here, now, while she's surprised, rather than later on a battlefield of her choosing where she can surprise us."

The XO nodded sourly. "Ain't that the goddamn truth."

"Squadron Flag has ordered us to take point, Captain…the Commodore wants us to open a hole for the cruisers!" The Com officer reported.

"About time." Renato rubbed her hands together with anticipation. "Alright, XO, have our screen move to engage those light Motherships at 025 and draw them off! Helm, come to course 080 mark 010, half speed. Guns, target any of the big ships that you can lock onto and prepare to lay on everything you've got on my word. Com, inform Squadron Flag that a hole will be opened momentarily."

A few of the crew chuckled at that last order but they went about their orders with extraordinary calmness and trust in their CO. They had been fighting this war since day one and despite sometimes taking immense damage and casualties, they and their Captain had always managed to survive. Their trust in Renato was absolute and they would follow her into hell if it was required.

Renato watched the forward display as their screen, six Susparti frigates shot forward, white beams of focused ions licking at the shields of eight Brel'khet light Motherships that were themselves screening the bigger Motherships.

The Brel'khet's returned fired in a flurry of plasma blasts, pelting the smaller frigates as they screamed past. Three of the Motherships exploded under the intense assault but their return fire claimed two of the Susparti frigates. The other four frigates peeled off and the light Motherships turned in pursuit.

The crew of the Shinano had been waiting for this and as the Brel'khet's fell out of formation, three Hat'ak's were revealed through the cloud of ECM that the light Brel'khet's had been pumping out.

"Target locked!" Guns called out in a burst of released frustration.

"Fire!" Captain Renato replied fervently.

The Shinano had held back at a respectable distance and with deceptive grace, the battleship swung about almost ninety degrees away from the Motherships, unmasking her broadside ion cannons. Eight dual turrets indexed in on the suddenly revealed enemy and a storm of heavy ion bolts erupted from the battleship.

The ion cannons, as with most of the Alliance technology, had been much improved over the years, especially since the Tollan and Susparti membership within the Alliance. Bolts of ion, each rivalling the heart of a naquada explosion for sheer energy, crossed the distance between the Shinano and the enemy in seconds.

Bast though, had a well earned reputation for invention and adaptation and it had only taken her a couple of battles with the Alliance Fleet before she had reproduced light, rapid fire plasma cannons that worked as 'interceptors' for incoming fire, much in the same way as the Alliance point-defense worked.

A web of yellow blasts erupted from the three Motherships and numerous ion bolts exploded before they reach their target.

Despite this, still more ion bolts found their way to the enemy and slammed into equally powerful shields. Gigajoules of intense energy washed over the Motherships as their shields strained to absorb the fire.

Alliance Intelligence kept fairly good tabs on all the System Lords, especially with the Tok'ra's help and the rumour was that Bast had attained improved shield technology from a very old System Lord who had returned to claim first Ra's, then Apophis's old territories. No-one in the Alliance had encountered any of this newcomer's Fleet for he had attacked on the far side of Union space but the Tok'ra had managed to get a name. Anubis. Apparently, he had been almost a match for Bast but in the end, she had been victorious and Anubis had fallen before her. She had claimed all of his new found territory and his few remaining vessels, onboard which were more than a few technologies Bast didn't yet possess, among which was the shield technology and certain large-scale energy weapons that, according to Tok'ra Intelligence, Bast was still have trouble adapting.

So thanks to Anubis, the two outer Motherships suffered a significant drop in shield power but little else whereas the lead Mothership, unable to prevent the lion's share of the volley from hitting home, had their shields brought down with sudden, disastrous finality. Strained past breaking point, the main shield generator exploded and section of hull at the base of the pyramid erupted outward like a finger of flame. This relatively small explosion was soon overtaken by the continuous storm of ion bolts that ripped into the now unshielded Mothership and the golden pyramid ruptured under the nova-like forces and exploded in a titanic blaze of light.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

Hek'at watched that tactical hologram with a grim expression as a division of Alliance King William-class cruisers charged past the expanding cloud of plasma that used to be a Mothership, their particle lances reaching out and slashing deep into the vitals of two weakened Hat'ak's as they slipped further into the right flank of that formation. The heavier Motherships slowed their advance as they turned to run down the cruisers, much as the lighter Motherships were still chasing down the frigates.

Alliance tactics were obviously to draw his guard units out of position, only to slip a knife into their uncovered vitals. His own Jaffa ship commanders had been drilled to hold the line no matter what but the sheer surprise of the Alliance attack had obviously shaken some of his Jaffa into making foolish mistakes.

Another part of the display caught his attention and he smiled with satisfaction. Though some of his commanders were shaken, even more were keeping their discipline as another Alliance battleship and a squadron of Adenan destroyers tried the same tactic on the far left flank. This time, however, the destroyers were caught in a web of counterfire from the Motherships that refused to be drawn out of position.

Three destroyers retreated back to the covering Alliance battleship, leaving six of their squadron mates behind forever.

"Curious, don't you think, Hek'at?" Ok'ran asked absently as he studied the hologram with increasing intensity. "It's a powerful force to be sure, nearly half of the Alliance Fleet but they simply don't have enough ships to meet ours face to face."

"They show no signs of retreating…" Hek'at replied firmly, though his face was showing signs of puzzlement.

"Exactly." Ok'ran continued. "We are missing something."

"Another fleet?" Hek'at wondered, "…like at Gryphon?"

The Second nodded. "Possibly. It's becoming a favorite tactic for them. Almost predictable. We should keep our forces together and assign a group to watch our rear."

"As you command." Hek'at replied wryly, with a glint in his eye.

His own eyes smiling, Ok'ran returned his gaze to his console and began to pass out orders.

O'Neill, Sam and Teal'c stood to one side in the ENS Ark Royal's CIC and watched quietly as Admiral Kent moved his forces with the skill of a consummate chess grandmaster. A handful of Motherships would advance and he would fall back and envelope them, even as he would send squadrons charging at the enemy, trying to peel away their screen in order to get at the heavier ships. Through all this though, he kept pulling his ships away from the steadily advancing 'War Hammer' and it's Shal'kra escorts. The massive vessel was ignoring all his long-range fire and simply charging straight towards the heart of his fleet.

O'Neill suspected that Hek'at's intention was to split his fleet in half, allowing the Union to defeat them in detail and, with all Kent's defensive maneuvering, he was for all intents and purposes succeeding.

Admiral Kent watched his displays, well aware of the increasing number of looks he was receiving as he played an increasingly defensive strategy, something very much against his reputation. Ignoring these glances of concern, he kept his eyes on the numerous components of the advancing Union fleet and waited for his moment. Much like a dance, he pulled his forces away from where the Union Fleet pushed and advanced where they retreated, causing the two formations to seem to rotate gracefully in space, albeit across five thousand kilometers of space.

He had steadily been marshalling all the planetary assault forces to the right flank under Admiral Serena, when the earlier local assaults had proved much more successful. The Jaffa commanders had shown a distinct tendency to hesitate, obviously being rather more inexperienced, and he had decided to make his first move there.

"Communications, pass to Admiral Serena my compliments and inform her she may proceed against the planet at her discretion." Kent ordered calmly.

Polarian Supercruiser PN-SC Allegiance

When the Admiral's order came through, Serena practically leapt from her chair in CIC where she had sat, sphinx-like, since the battle began. Only the occasional soft-spoken command let her crew know that she hadn't fallen asleep.

"Alright people, you heard the man. It's time to earn our princely salaries!" She crowed. "Navigation, shape us a course that takes us through the right flank and to within three thousand kilometers of the planet and pass it to the rest of the strike group. Gunnery, we'll be moving through the Union lines fast so concentrate on keeping a hole open for us, disperse and co-ordinate your fire as much as you can without diluting its effectiveness! Communications, send word to Colonel Bannon, we're making our move now and transmit the go signal to Spearhead!"

Serena's Flag Captain, Commodore Caspien, stepped up beside her and spoke quietly enough that no else could hear his words. "Three thousand kilometers puts us well within range of the planetary defense cannons. The plan calls for us to launch our strike beyond the five thousand kilometer mark, just shy of their extreme range, and reengage the Union Fleet in their rear."

Serena nodded seriously. "I know, Caspien, and we will but I want their guns targeting us and not the strike as it goes in."

Caspien winced slightly. It was a gutsy move, one he should have expected from her, but he'd been fooled by her placid acceptance of the original plan, which called for the strike to brave the planetary fire alone, just as Admiral Kent had been fooled. Hindsight seemed to be operating perfectly as usual as he considered that Serena had never been considered placid her whole life. He sighed and moved back to his station with the intention of silently informing Damage Control Central that they would have to be prepared sooner than they thought.

"Course plotted and transmitted." The Navigator replied.

Admiral Serena's eyes narrowed. 'Take us in."

The massive engines of the Supercruiser burned with increased power and the Allegiance steadily accelerated towards the Union right flank. Two battleships, a handful of cruisers and several destroyer squadrons escorted the Allegiance and the Susparti Strike-class Carrier Death Nest towards their rendezvous with Sohag.

The battered and broken ranks of Motherships on the right flank, their sensor and communication jamming equipment overwhelmed by the combined output of the eighteen Wraith units orbiting the fight several light minutes away, tried their best but they were simply overwhelmed by the sudden surge of Alliance ships and their pre-programmed defense fell apart. The assault group, now with its data-links intact and operating continuously, flowed past the Motherships like water, accepting heavy damage as they charged in amongst the remaining Motherships but dealing out twice the damage to the pyramid vessels, thanks to their carefully coordinated fire.

Two echelons of light Brel'keht Motherships detached themselves from the rear of the Union Fleet and moved to intercept Admiral Serena's force as it broke past the shattered right flank and into the clear.

The Allegiance swung out wide, and repositioned itself between the Brel'keht's and the Death Nest, whose shield had held up well, despite losing 50 of their power during the run through the Union gauntlet. As a storm of plasma blasts pelted the battlegroup, the destroyer screen pulled back from its covering position near the remainder of the right Union flank and attacked the distracted Motherships from behind. The clash was over in minutes and the battlegroup, minus five destroyers, two cruisers and a battleship, fell back into place around the Allegiance and the Death Nest as they headed at flank speed towards the planet, leaving the wreckage of a dozen pyramids behind them.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

Hek'at watched the failure of the echelons to stop the Alliance breakaway with a grunt of disgust, disgust at himself for underestimating that oversized Polarian vessel and for not detaching more capable ships in the face of an Alliance battlegroup operating with full data-link co-ordination. The new small craft that had taken out the Gryphon sensor/jamming stations were obviously operating here again as well. Their effects were very noticeable in that his sensor range had been reduced to next to nothing and his communications were so sporadic so as to be pointless.

"Increase power to all sensor/jamming units!" Hek'at roared at the Second near the secondary console.

The Second shrugged helplessly. "We're already at maximum output, First Prime! I don't know how but the Alliance jamming appearing to be working at an efficiency several magnitudes above our own!"

Ok'ran looked up from his console where he was co-ordinating a dozen different echelons and glared at the First Prime. "This fight won't be won by technological tricks, Hek'at! Forget the jamming and start hitting the enemy with plasma!"

The First Prime in Hek'at automatically stiffed in outrage at Ok'ran's harsh familiarity but before he exploded the shock brought to the surface of his thoughts, the realization that his old friend was right. Maybe he had been around Bast's scientists and engineers too much.

Nodding grimly at Ok'ran, in acknowledgement of the older man's valid point, Hek'at walked purposefully back to the command throne and sat down with great deliberation. "Helm, full stop. The Alliance refuses to enter the War Hammer's embrace and I tire of this dance. We will anchor our lines here while the rear guard will sweep around us from all sides and envelope the Alliance Fleet."

"What about the battlegroup heading for Sohag?" Ok'ran asked more respectfully this time.

Hek'at, remembering the anti-phase device Bast had shown him days ago, dismissed the obvious planetary assault force as a serious threat. "The defense grid will swat their dropships from the sky like flies."

Admiral Kent watched the War Hammer slow to a stop and the rear most, as yet untouched, Motherships blossom outwards in all directions, clearly intending to envelope Grand Fleet on all sides.

"Admiral Kent, we just intercepted a transmission from the Allegiance, Admiral Serena has given Spearhead the go signal." Carter announced from her station near the fleet communications console. "Colonel DeSoto has acknowledged and is beginning the Sohag dial-up sequence."

Kent nodded at Carter as she finished her report and he turned to the CIC Alpha display that showed the main operational timeline. "Right on schedule." He murmured.

Gate Facility, Spearhead

Colonel DeSoto's fingers idly tapped out a beat as the Stargate rotated in an almost hypnotic fashion.

"Chevron five, locked!" Sgt. Jahara announced tersely. Though everyone had participated in countless dial-ups, so many that the entire process was usually considered quite a non-event despite the technology and distances involved, the Stargate suddenly found itself the focus of everyone's nervous attention. Though everyone on the base had been party to many hostile dial-ups, none had ever quite compared to dialing up the most fortified planet in enemy space.

DeSoto gently pushed a small thumbstick on the console to one side and the view on his display rotated to the right. SG-Beta, SG-Delta and SG-Gamma were arrayed around the Gate facility, awaiting the open wormhole where they would storm the enemy's gate in their Mod III Combat armour and its phasing abilities.

"Chevron six, locked!"

Everyone in the Control Facilitiy watched as a single trooper moved as close to the still dialing gate as he dared, carrying a stubby looking grenade launcher.

"Chevron seven, encoded and locked!" Sgt. Jahara announced with sudden finality. On their screens the Stargate burst to life in an explosion of quicksilver, which just as quickly retreated to form a shimmering pool of light.

Wasting no time, the lone trooper with the grenade launcher took aim and fired three rounds into the gate. The small spherical devices that disappeared into the quicksilver surface were not mere explosive devices, however. They were ultra compact, solid-state probes that contained a miniaturized phase device and sensors that produce instant scans of the surrounding environment.

The probes had hardly entered the wormhole before DeSoto swung around to the probes control console and the operator there.

Ignoring the sudden focus of the entire control room upon her, the technician at the console studied her instruments intently. "Tracking…tracking…arrival now!"

The screen burst into static and then, instead of displaying a rapidly jerking picture and a composite radar image of whatever was on the Sohag side of the wormhole, the image went dead.

No one spoke for precious seconds then DeSoto found his voice. "What happened?"

The female tech shook herself and then her fingers became a blur over her console. "Unknown, Colonel. All three units transited as normal. Wormhole readings were normal. Some fluctuations about halfway through transit but that looks like a simple close approach to a star, nothing to suggest a complete systems failure…"

The computer's second analysis finished and it beeped for her attention. She read the raw data and frowned.

DeSoto saw the change in expression and ached to ask her what was wrong but he bit his tongue and let her work the problem.

Unaware of her CO's inner struggle, she looked up towards a secondary console across the control room that was geared primarily towards scientific analysis. "Mark, what do you make of this emissions signature?" She asked with an emotionless voice.

The other technician swung back towards his console as he accessed the data she was sending him. He grunted with dismay. "Iris impact. It's masked somewhat, almost like interference but that's an impact signature for sure."

The entire control room exploded as one, chattering at each other with urgency.

"Everyone, quiet!" He yelled. The room immediately shut up and he nodded with mild satisfaction. Turning towards the female tech, he didn't try to hide his confusion. "Those probes were phased…how could they have hit the Iris?"

Opening her mouth to admit she was clueless on that score, she was saved from that admission by the other science technician, Mark. "Colonel, I think I have a theory."

All eyes swung down upon the lowly tech and he smiled for a bare instant before gesturing towards his display in obvious disgust. "The impact signature is clear as day. All three of them, boom, boom, boom. What I can barely decipher, and what Susie's console isn't geared to detect, is a strange, almost undetectable harmonic to the exit wormhole. I've never seen the harmonic before but just after each impact the harmonic increases in intensity. The harmonic covers the subspace frequencies used by the Tollan to phase matter in and out. I'm only guessing but I'd have to assume that whatever is producing that harmonic at the Sohag Stargate brought our probes out of phase just in time to impact against the Iris."

"Shit." DeSoto replied flatly.

No-one said nothing for several seconds until one of the techs stiffened in surprise. He put his fingers to the communications headset in his ear and grimaced. "Sir, Colonel Paresh is 'requesting' a status update…he wants to know if he has permission to go."

"No!" The Colonel replied forcefully. "Order everyone at the Gate Facility to stand down. And get me Caspien on the horn! That bitch Bast just neutralized everyone here…"

PN-SC Allegiance

Admiral Serena stared at the display stonily as Commodore Caspien finished relaying the communication from Spearhead. They were in a multi-way communication with General O'Neill, Admiral Kent, Marshal Tadeshi Roberts, Col. Bannon, Col. Avon, and Lt Col. Lyman.

Admiral Kent shook his head. "Well that tears it. We have to abort."

"NO!" Bannon, Avon and Lyman replied forcefully.

Despite the grim situation, O'Neill chuckled wryly. "I take it then, that you three are opposed to aborting?"

"Absolutely, Sir." She replied firmly, for all three of them. "With respect to Admiral Kent, we can still get the job done. All he needs is to keep the Union Motherships off our backs and we'll take the Stargate, Command Central and the entire top echelon of the Union all in one go!"

Marshall Roberts frowned slightly. "You'll be outnumbered fifty to one. I don't doubt you'll get past the palace defenses but without the reinforcements from Spearhead and the rest of the Alliance, you'll eventually be swarmed over by Jaffa. Sheer numbers will do you in."

"We're running out of time…" Admiral Serena warned everyone. "We're almost at the jump point."

Colonel Avon shook his head. "Then we simply have to make sure we take the Stargate. Let SG-Alpha and the Spartans go after Bast and her cronies. Omega company will go after the Stargate. We can shutdown whatever rig she's got running there and start bringing in the rest of our people. We can still do this."

The senior commanders exchanged glances and O'Neill nodded. "Proceed."

Sitting in a cramped chair, in front of the repeater console jammed deep into one corner of her Orca dropship, she smiled as O'Neill, Kent and Roberts disappeared from her screen, leaving her to face her combat commanders. Their images enlarged to fill the available space, now that the other three feeds had disconnected. "Alright, we're closing in on the planet, time to launch, four minutes. Whatever you're gonna tell you're people, do it fast. Good luck to you all."

The lust for battle seemed to flicker in each of their eyes and Serena suppressed a smile as they too cut their respective connections.

She pitied the Jaffa on the surface.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

In the hologram in front of Hek'at's command throne, numerous motes of light suddenly appeared around the two large signals that represented the Alliance carrier and its Supercruiser escort. The First Prime shook his head in exasperation. "I always knew the Tau'ri had guts, Ok'ran, but they were never stupid. What makes them think their assault ships can survive the surface defenses?"

Ok'ran glanced at the main display before turning back to his console with a grunt. "Probably about to unleash some new-fangled weapon that'll mash our people into the dirt." He replied, with a certain amount of gallow's humour.

Hek'at sent a quick grin at his friend before turning towards the Jaffa at the main console. "Inform Command Central that they may fire at their discretion."

"Kree!" The Jaffa replied.

Command Central, Fortress Palace, Sohag

Lord Kiptakanae watched the Jaffa receive their orders from the War Hammer with barely suppressed anger. How was it possible for his plan to fall apart before he even had a chance to put it into action!

He had intended to assassinate Bast today, before the Fleet left for Sohag, only to learn of Bast's secret diplomatic mission to the Separatist Goa'uld, Lord Sivar and though he was incredibly frustrated by her disappearence, he suddenly realized with wonder that Bast had made a rare political misstep. Yes, they needed reinforcements if their two-front war was to continue but Lord Sivar was a poor choice from a strictly political point of view. One of the few System Lords to control a Dhan'hak class Commandship, he was a power among the Separatists to be sure but his very strength meant that many of the Unionist System Lords had previously been victim to one of his attacks at some point and few in the Union would welcome his presence with open arms.

This kind of internal dissention played into his very hands. Even though Bast wasn't here, perhaps he could win leadership of the Union without having to resort to killing her after all.

Looking towards the small groups of System Lords that hung around the periphery of Command Central like sheep, he swallowed his instinctual disgust at their barely hidden fear and uncertainty and walked towards them, the epitome of calm and exuding as much confidence as he could muster.

"Well, Lady Amun'sul, I would imagine when you woke up this morning, this wasn't what you quite expected to happen…" He spoke disparagingly, gesturing towards the massive hologram that depicted the Alliance attack.

The Goa'uld Amun'sul, momentarily forgetting her apprehension of O'Neill's attack, glared at the other System Lord. "Save it, Kiptakanae. No one, not even Bast could have predicted this!"

Kiptakanae smiled conspiratorially. "Ahhh, yes, our glorious leader Bast. I agree, Bast could never had predicted this." He replied, putting as much irony and scorn into his voice as he could. "And just where is our glorious leader. I don't see her here while we sit under the guns of our enemies."

"What are you saying, Kiptakanae?" Another System Lord asked grimly.

"Absolutely nothing at all." He replied cheerfully. "Far from it. I'm pleased that Bast is safe from harm, consorting with the very Goa'uld that we have been fighting all this time. We should all be so fortunate."

The assembled Unionists began to mutter amongst themselves. Kiptakanae bit back a smile as he watched them follow this line of thought to the conclusion he wanted as if he'd led them by rope all by himself.

In his self-satisfaction, he never saw a nearby Jaffa, who had heard every word spoken, surreptitiously access a tertiary communication console and send a brief transmission to the War Hammer.

"Incoming signal!" A Jaffa reported.

Hek'at turned away from the hologram and took the slate from the Jaffa. He read it briefly and looked up towards Ok'ran with a wide smile. "It's from Bast. She's back with Lord Sivar, the 'Blood Sword' and eleven Shal'kra's. She's ten minutes from emergence and asks us if there's anywhere in particular she'd like us drop out…"

Ok'ran looked up but without the answering grin that Hek'at was expecting. He gestured for Hek'at to come closer. "I just received word from one of my people in Command Central…its Kiptakanae. I think he's making his move, old friend."

The First Prime absorbed the news quickly, his mind working out all the implications in a flash leaving his face hard and grim. "Send a reply to Bast. Tell her to attend to Sohag. Attach the report from your Jaffa. We cannot move against Kiptakanae ourselves. Only Bast can."

Ok'ran was no fool. He knew that the balance amongst the System Lords of the Union was precarious and if Bast killed one of them for 'expressing an opinion' the rest might feel 'enslaved', and that was something that could bring the entire Union down. "What will she do?" Ok'ran asked quietly.

Hek'at shook his head. "Whatever she has to." He replied.

Dropship 02-Echo, Fleet Assault Wing Foxtrot

Altitude: one hundred fifty thousand feet from the surface of Sohag

Distance: three hundred kilometers from the Palace Fortress

Lt Col Samuel Lyman stooped slightly in his relatively bulky combat armour to look out of the viewport of his Orca transport, 02-Echo. On either side of the massive craft, similarly huge transports flew in formation. The ten Orcas, each carrying around one hundred troops and escorted by Sabre fighters were screaming down to the surface of Sohag, ostensibly to take the fortress in a direct assault, landing in and around the place grounds under heavy fire.

Lyman smiled slightly as he acknowledged that that driving assault craft, packed full of troops, into prepared fields of fire had been the way these things had been performed in the past but it was about time to try something new. The fact that Bast's had managed to neutralize the Tollan 'phase' devices so quickly had caught the Alliance off-guard but the SSD had long since provided them with something almost as good in this war and Colonel Bannon's idea to use it certainly had the benefit of being novel, for it had been a long time since the Spartans had been asked to do any parachuting.

The paratroopers in the unit were beside themselves with anticipation of what promised to be an interesting insertion.

Looking away from the viewport, he turned to his 2IC, Captain Francois LeHavre, who was studying the deployment plan one last time. "We're almost there, Captain, ready the troops." He ordered.

"Oui, Major." LeHavre replied with a grin. He had been a paratrooper with the French Foreign Legions and he was looking forward to making an extremely high altitude jump without a parachute.

One by one, the Spartan troopers checked the status readouts of their armour, secured their rail-guns to the magnetic plate on the back of their armour and made sure their anti-grav jump pack units were fully charged.

Lyman moved over to the main bay console and opened a tight beam communication channel to one of the other dropships.

A stern but beautiful face filled the small screen. "Lyman, are you and your boys and girls ready?" Colonel Bannon asked eagerly.

"Yes, Ma'am…we're ready to drop and bop!" He smiled fiercely for a second before frowning slightly. "I don't suppose I can persuade you to let the Spartans go in first? With the Wraith units essentially neutralized, the Jaffa aren't gonna be distracted when we go in."

The Colonel shook her head firmly. "We stick to the new plan, regardless. I need you right behind us. Once SG-Alpha opens a hole, the Spartans and Omega punch through. Then we fan out. Alpha and the Spartans head for the Command Central, Omega goes for the Gate."

Lyman snorted wryly. "I got no problem with the plan, Rachel, its just that Alpha's gonna get hit hard taking the lead in the drop. I wish you'd pass it off to us or one of the other regiments. We need you alive."

"Why, Samuel, I do believe I detect a hint of concern there…" She replied teasingly, batting her eyelashes at him for good measure.

Amazingly, Lyman found himself blushing and tried to cover his sudden embarrassment in a growl of annoyance. "Yeah, well your Master Sergeant owes me fifty bucks and I wouldn't want him trying to get out of the debt by getting his ass shot up."

Bannon nodded knowingly and let him off the hook. "We go in hard and fast, Sam. I'll see you on the ground."

PN-SC Allegiance

"Ground defenses are tracking!" The sensor officer called out.

"The dropships are entering optimum firing range!" Flight ops confirmed.

Admiral Serena listened to the reports coming in with studied calm. "Order the corvettes to advance before the dropships."

"Aye, sir." Communications replied.

Commodore Caspien stepped up next to Serena. "There's not enough Tollan corvettes to make a dent in the incoming fire their about to take, Admiral."

Serena nodded grimly. "I know, Commodore, but we need to keep up the pretense of trying land the dropships. Once the Assault troops have jumped, we'll allow the undoubtedly heavy fire to drive us off, as per the plan."

Caspien winced as the flat tone to her voice. The corvettes, not exactly numerous to begin with, were about to take a pounding all in the name of a pretense. He turned watched the communication tech talking to the corvette screen commander, a youthful Tollan who looked like he should have been in school chasing girls. The Tollan listened calmly to his orders and, after a bare moments hesitation as he worked out the reasoning behind the order and its likely cost to his people, he nodded once in acceptance and cut the channel with a small, grim smile.

On the holographic display, the eleven corvettes that were part of the assault groups screen accelerated away from the battlegroup and took up defensive formations at the front of the dropship assault wings. Together they accelerated to full attack speed and rushed towards the planet.

Yellow flashes erupted across the surface of Sohag and a wave of plasma blasts rose up from the surface to greet them.

Dropship 02-Echo, Fleet Assault Wing Foxtrot

"Green light! Go, go, go!" The crew chief yelled into his helmet comms.

Lt Col Lyman spent a microsecond admiring the crispness that the lack of atmosphere lent his view everything before turning towards the lowered ramp. The edge of Sohag's atmosphere and the storm of plasma blasts could just be seen from where he stood and without hesitation, he ran forward and jumped out of the incredibly fast moving Orca. Major LeHavre was close on his heels.

Despite being in high orbit, the gravity of the planet instantly took hold and they plummeted towards the surface. All around them, hundreds of assault troopers followed in their wake, their speed building rapidly as they were as yet, unhindered by atmosphere.

Plasma blasts of all sizes flew past them in an all out effort to shoot down the incoming Orca's.

Lyman checked his sensors as the last of his people left the dropships. The high velocities involved meant that entire drop had been spread over five hundred kilometers but this had been accepted, even welcomed and the distance was well within the maneuvering capabilities of the Mod IV Combat Armor to put their people on the target.

His computer sent him an audible warning as he began to enter the denser atmosphere. Steadily, friction from the increasing amount of air began to heat up the advanced skin of his combat armor.

His radio crackled slightly with increased ionization as it picked up a transmission from Colonel Bannon. "Bronze One, Alpha Six. Feet dry."

Turning his head slightly to follow the blue indicator on his helmet visor heads up display, he zoomed in on the small figure of Colonel Bannon. She had tucked her arms in tight along the length of her body and was plummeting towards the ground at frightening speed, her armour glowing cherry red in places. Right behind her was the rest of SG-Alpha in similar postures

He shook his head with exasperation. "Spartan Six. Feet dry." He reported calmly to Admiral Serena, Bronze One, aboard the Allegience.

"Omega Six. Feet dry." Colonel Avon reported a little breathlessly. It was after all, only his second jump but a quick glance told Lyman that the Colonel and his men were doing fine, if following a little slower, having jumped with their weapons in hand, rather than magnetically clamped to the back plate of their armour like SG-Alpha and the Spartans had done.

"Confirm, all units feet dry." Serena advised tersely.

Before Lyman even had a chance to acknowledge, his computer systems began to screech an alert as a dozen sensor stations on the surface lit up their powerful emitters and began sweeping the skies for targets. They had obvious begun to pick 'something' up, even if only visually though at the moment the entire assault wave was dropping through thick cloud. Dim yellow light pulsed through the cloud as ground defenses continued to fire up into orbit, at admiral Serena's ships.

Unconsciously holding his breath, Lyman waited for the alarm that would signal the enemy's fire control locking on to his space-suited figure. Thankfully, the tech's promises back home had borne out and the suits were too small and too well stealthed to be picked up. Instead, he heard frantic chatter on the secondary frequencies as the dropships and corvette escorts were steadily locked up by hundreds of the smaller surface-to-air installations.

The thick cloud flashed yellow with increased intensity as more ground fire rose up the meet the incoming dropships. His combat suits computer bleeped for attention as it finally got a lock on the Fortress Palace. A red box appeared on his heads up display and a projected course track drew a path that he was to follow in order to reach his target. Blue dots representing SG-Alpha swarmed ahead of him at fearful speed and with lethal intent.

Colonel Bannon's mouth was stretched back in a wild grin as she plummeted through the thick cloud at suicidal velocities. The clouds seemed to be suddenly ripped away and she found herself looking down upon the city sprawl of Sohag and at the center, the square, towering citadel of the Fortress Palace. Orange fire spat from numerous defense towers dotted around the city and on the parapets of the Palace and she began to designate targets for her descending troopers using intelligence gathered from Tok'ra spies and rebel Jaffa.

A rough hewn voice sounded in her ear. "Lot of Jaffa down there, Colonel." Master Sergeant Booth commented calmly. He voice giving no indication that he was plummeting through the atmosphere at nearly the speed of sound.

Bannon nodded absently as she plotted a course for a platoon from Charlie Company to strike a Jaffa armory near to the Fortress Palace.

"Have you decided where we're making our entrance?" Booth continued curiously. In the pre-strike briefings, they had decided on eight likely avenues of attack ranging from hitting them all simultaneously to striking at the base of the Palace or using the hanger facilities built into the Palace halfway up its impressive height, all the way up to landing at its highest point and fighting their way down. They all had their benefits and disadvantages and, because of the limited intelligence available to them, Bannon had decided to choose the hanger bay as their point of entry but making it clear that this decision would be subject to change during the assault if another opportunity presented itself.

Glancing at the tactical information once more she shook her head. With the Stargate neutralized, dispersing her forces to hit all approaches would be too risky. No, she was going to have to go with a more concentrated attack. "We're going with Patton-Three, Master Sergeant." She replied as she sent the corresponding signal to the entire strike force.

"Yes, sir." Booth replied calmly. The plan designated Patton-Three called for SG-Alpha to spread out during the drop, land and take numerous key choke points all over the Palace and the surrounding area, causing as much chaos and confusion as possible as SG-Omega and the Spartans pushed deep into Palace to take the Stargate and Command Central. SG-Alpha would be spread thin, however, and would have to hold their positions against literally thousands of Jaffa while the others fought for control of the Palace. Some of the battle planning staff had reacted negatively to putting Alpha in such a vulnerable position but they were overrode by O'Neill and Colonel Bannon herself.

Mo'khan smiled as Rot'al finished yet another bawdy joke. The joke, the latest in a seemingly never-ending string still wasn't very funny but Mo'khan was glad for it for it distracted him from the flashes of the fight going on in orbit. Yellow orange plasma lit up the night sky and the surrounding city as the blasts streaked into orbit like fireworks. Stood on one of the outer parapets of the Fortress Palace, the view from here really was exquisite.

Mo'khan had been a Jaffa for fifteen years and he had seen much combat against the Separatists and the Alliance and the overly loud propaganda of the Goa'uld Priesthood did little to shore up his confidence as the Alliance struck against Sohag. He had seen what O'Neill and his people could done when they put their mind to it and if the thought they could take Sohag, well…

"Come, my friend, Hek'at will shortly be done destroying the Tau'ri and their puppet allies and we can go back to taking on Lord Yu's Jaffa." Rot'a cried out. "I haven't heard anything from Ba'khat for a while now since we defeated his Legions on the plains of Atul!"

Shaking his head at his friend's simplistic view of things and thirst for battle, Mo'khan smiled while studying the battle raging in the sky intently. Whilst studying a billowing explosion, high in orbit, he frowned slightly as a dark shape suddenly occluded the expanding ball of plasma. The dark shape just as suddenly disappeared into the murk of the night and he scanned the sky with renewed intensity. As his eyes scanned the space between the stars in the sky, he began to see numerous dark shapes, numerous…things…falling from the sky!

"What the…?" Mo'khan slammed his fist against his neckpiece and his helmet erupted outwards from his collar armour, surrounding his head in seconds. The golden visage of a cat turned left and right as he studied the falling shapes with his helmet sensors.

"What do you see?" Rot'al called out as he too activated his helmet and swept the sky with his staff weapon, ready to blast anything out of the ordinary.

Mo'khan turned to his friend just in time to see him explode. Blood and metal sprayed the entire balcony and Mo'khan was struck dumb for precious seconds. Anger at the death of friend erupted from his heart, his vision almost going red with rage, gripped his staff weapon and started to swing about to target whatever had destroyed his friend with such callous precision.

He had barely turned halfway before one of the dark forms slammed into him, sending his staff weapon flying and throwing him across the balcony and into the far wall that shook with the impact. He dropped to the floor, his vision graying with the pain of numerous broken bones and a cracked skull. His helmet vision was static filled but just before he fell into unconsciousness, he saw several other figures drop onto the balcony out of nowhere, with the gracefulness of bak'lari dancers.

He recognized the combat armour of the Tau'ri and tried speak, tried raise his hand, tried to resist them but blinding pain erupted from behind his eyes and everything suddenly fell into darkness.

Master Sergeant Booth glanced at the fallen Jaffa and the scraps of meat that remained of the other one and shook his head. A lot more men and women on both sides were going to die this day. With quick, firm movements, Colonel Bannon pointed towards the door that led to the inside of the Palace. Two of her escorts silently moved to either side of it and one of them pressed a switch on the side that opened the door. A third trooper had pulled a disc-shaped charge from her backpack and the door barely had time to open before she threw it inside. The previous trooper hit the door controls once more, causing the door to shut and a mere second passed before a muffled thump went off behind the door.

A sharp nod from Bannon caused the trooper to open the door once more. The door slid open and smoke swept out of the gap, streaming into the cold night air. Master Sergeant Booth charged into the room, his XM-80 Widowmaker raised to his shoulder, the two nearby soldiers fast on his heels. Bannon and the rest of her platoon quickly followed the trio inside.

The room was a total mess, with wreckage and Jaffa strewn everywhere. An muffled alarm could just be heard through the door on the far side of the room. Ultra-high frequency sonar built into the suit 's sensor suite managed to penetrate the wall to a certain extent and revealed a fairly ordinary corridor on the far side. Two soldiers moved to cover the door as Booth slung his rifle and strode over to the nearest computer console.

Less than a minute of effort revealed that most of the computers linkages and systems had been destroyed in the earlier blast. A quick shake of his head relayed this fact to Bannon.

She grimaced once and looked towards the door while her suit computer tried to place her position within the Palace using the limited Tok'ra intelligence they possessed and the shared data between the other strike units. A composite images from these various data sources was quickly being built but the map still glowed yellow for uncertainty and a request for more data silently pulsed in the bottom right hand corner of her vision.

"Move out." She ordered. "Booth, take three and go left. The rest stay with me and go right. You know the plan. Seek and destroy."

The door slid open the SG-Alpha troopers pushed deeper into the Palace.

The first Spartan troopers to touch down on the large hanger pad that jutted outward from the palace did so with complete surprise and the first Jaffa targeted were killed without them realizing that the Alliance troopers had arrived. The Jaffa, however, rallied quickly and there was a larger than expected number of them around the main hanger. Staff blasts erupted from in and around the rows of parked Death Gliders and tel'tac's. Lt Col Samuel Lyman frowned behind the helmet of his advanced Combat Armour and altered his approach vector to avoid the worst of the firestorm. Choosing a fairly large gap between to of the goa'uld transports, he aimed his descending suit towards the space, his escort dutifully following behind him. Battle chatter filled the secondary communication channels and a small part of his mind noted with pleasure that none of it sounded panicky or fear-laden, just terse reports and snapped orders.

His suit's anti-grav unit whined with increased power as it dumped speed from his rapid descent, allowing to hit the landing pad with no more impact than as if he'd jumped off a three foot wall. (tech note - the suit could have allowed him to make a smoother albeit slower descent but that would have made him an easy target for whichever Jaffa happened to look his way.)

Several staff blasts slammed into the top of the transport behind him as a number of Jaffa had sent a few snap-shots his way as they saw more troopers land. As Lyman took his bearings, two of his escort moved to either side of the transport and began to return fire. The range was overly long for the close combat settings of the XM-80 Widowmaker rifle and the flechette rounds had dispersed over a wide area by the time they reach the target but enough fragments hit the target and the Jaffa fell back, some severely wounded, others clearly dead.

Within minutes, the first wave of over eighty Spartans had landed in the hanger bay. Staff blasts and flechettes filled the air but eventually, the Jaffa were pushed out of the hanger and into the surrounding corridors and transit tunnels. Clear of the fighting, Lyman stepped out of cover and studied the hanger bay in more detail. The walls and floor were a uniform gunmetal grey, with the usual Goa'uld hieroglyphs covering the walls and in places, the floor. He turned his attention to his people as the second wave of troops began to drop into the hanger bay. Spartan combat engineers were already assembling several automated sentry cannons in the middle of the hanger bay and the rest of the unit's sappers were scanning the floor intently with their armour's upgraded sensor suite.

"Here." The one of the sapper's called out, pointing to the floor. The others hurried over and Lyman followed. Seeing the Colonel coming towards him, Major Kaggestad, the senior combat engineer, sent his datafeed to his commander's suit, allowing Lyman to 'see' what the Major saw.

"That's the ring system?" Lyman asked cautiously. He had never seen the system other than the rings that appeared from the ground. Now, below his feet, he saw a ghostly representation of the rings and the accompanying power systems and transmitters.

"Yes, sir." Major Kaggestad confirmed, his words understandable despite the thick Finnish accent. "The system appears to have been locked down but I think we can get it restarted."

"Good." Lyman replied. "Get it online. Once it's up. SG-Omega uses it to go for the Stargate."

"Aye, sir." The Major replied. He snapped his fingers at two of his men and they knelt down to the floor and popped open a hidden control panel. Within seconds, they were engrossed in hacking into the Goa'uld computer networks, trying to re-activate the ring system.

Colonel Lyman turned away from them and looked for his 2IC. His suit sent out a request for the location of the Major and a visual indicator appeared on Lyman's heads up display. Major LeHavre was near the main entrance to the hanger bay, fighting off the Jaffa who were making another push back into the hanger. Explosions rocked the smoke filled corridor, flechettes and shrapnel hewing the dead that were strewn the length and breadth of the floor.

LeHavre, noting the location request, turned away from the fight and towards Lyman. He nodded for the platoon commander to carry on and he jogged over to where Lyman stood. "The Jaffa in the Palace reacted surprisingly quickly and they have us bottled up, Colonel." LeHavre reported. "They hold the key intersections at the end of the corridors whilst we hold the entrances. They can't bring enough firepower to bear in order to get into the hanger but we can't fight our way out without taking unacceptable losses. The corridors are owned only by the dead." He finished grimly.

Lyman grunted. He knew the fight would be tough but this was bad blow to their plans. He glanced at the sappers who now had the ring hatch open and were messing around with the guts of the system. "Alright, we try another way." He announced with sudden inspiration. "Major Kaggestad, I need two holes opened in each of those walls." He ordered, lifting each of arms and pointing at the walls to the left and right of the hanger.

The Finnish Major smiled behind his helmet. "When your door is blocked, make a new door?"

"Four doors, Major. Get to it." Lyman replied as he turned to LeHavre and pulled him towards the rest of the Spartans and SG-Omega who were still dropping in from the night sky. "Take two companies and work your way from the hanger, along the eastern side of the Palace, towards Command Central. I'll take two companies and push from the west. The remaining two companies can keep the Jaffa occupied."

"And once the rings are online, Omega goes down and opens the Stargate." LeHavre finished.

Lyman nodded. "Between us and Bannon, we'll give the Jaffa so many targets, they won't know where to commit to."

End of Part 3.

Next: "And I built a house upon the sand..."