Disclosure
by Chaoseternus

The Truth Is Out At Last, Are You Ready For It?

Fourty

Endgame, The final battle, apocalypse…

Such simple words, but such deep meaning, such deep purpose, such deep loss.

Yet, they seemed to bear no relation to her here and now, yes, soldiers, warriors were dying in their hundreds trying to keep the Earth safe and yes, there was still no indication as to who would actually win this final assault but still… that was Earth, not here on Thundersdawn station. That distance, it lent a curious dislocation to the bloody events happening on the world so close by, intellectually she knew what was happening, the stakes, the odds. Emotionally, she was numb.

The fate of the Earth always seemed to rest on a single thread, a single battle, one pawn move in the chess game of life.

Strange.

Still, for all that was being risked, for all that was happening below the human race would survive, indeed, even the Tau'ri for a while at least. They would be weakened by the loss of their home, by the loss of their primary source of resources and Commodore Peters knew better then to think their many enemies would give them the time they would need to regroup.

No, if Earth fell, so most likely would the rest of the sol and Alpha Centauri systems in short order, then it would be left to whatever scattered fragments managed to flee to such places as alliance or Vulcan space. Edonia she didn't wish to think about, that outpost had to hold yet she knew it wouldn't, it couldn't even hold know against a determined assault, deprived of its primary source of spares and supplies it would fall into hostile hands in short order.

The allies, they could attempt to help of course, but it was far from alliance space, too far to maintain a realistic supply chain long term, not without more local support and the Vulcan's and Andorians, well, they might have some interesting technolo0gies but those only marked themselves out as greater targets, greater threats.

The Free Jaffa, well they had numbers on their side of course, but they needed upgrades, new technologies if they were to remain in the fight. Perhaps they could get those off the Alliance or off of the Vulcans or Andorians, perhaps not. Either way, there would be delays and if either Maktenos, Anubis or even the Cylons decided to launch a determined campaign against them in that time, they would lose, not without a fight, but they would almost certainly lose.

Strange, could the fate of the galaxy truly rest on the outcome of a battle on just one world?

Her train of thought made it seem so, but perhaps that was just arrogance and ego speaking, after all, hadn't Earth held out despite being outnumbered and outgunned by so many magnitudes of order it wasn't even funny, and borderline inconceivable?

It would be arrogance, pure and simple, to assume others couldn't do the same if they had the will too and perhaps they would be able to take up the banner of freedom the Tau'ri might just be fated to lose control off.

Perhaps…

Maybe this whole train of thought is academic; Peters noted to herself, their forces on the ground could still triumph over the Goa'uld.

Perhaps.

Either way, it would certainly be a close run thing and right now, there was no way to see who was likely to be the winner.

It would help if she didn't have to deal with Cylon recon probes and a crippled Lagrange sensor array though, that was distracting her far too much from the vital task of scrounging up every body she could for that final assault in Iblis.

Not that a few hundred bodies would make much difference. Then again, sometimes all it took was one…


Blood, there was blood everywhere, a dispassionate corner of Luciens mind told him dispassionately, the rest of him quite firmly adding that it wasn't just blood… and that the stench of cordite and munitions was almost overwhelming.

Almost.

Lucien hated city-fighting. Sure, what with the old troubles in Ireland the British Army was still regarded as one of the best and most experienced at the particular vein of warfare, despite end of that particular conflict.

Not that this was strictly speaking city-fighting, this wasn't a city for certain, but it had all the elements, an enemy that used every nook and cranny, determined to stay alive, lots of corners, lots of buildings, and worse, fire racing through the area. That was always the risk in a city-fight, you could set of a fire that would rage out of control, the firefighters naturally staying well out of raging gunbattle. It made things interesting for both sides, doubly so when you consider the hasty and ill-prepared construction they were currently trying to seize.

Wood, plastic, metals, including a few materials the aging SAS Colour-sergeant couldn't identify, all of those and more had been scrounged to make this fort, and a lot of them burned, sending black oily smoke rising into the air and flowing along the corridors, choking the breath out of those that tried to fight in the murky, dangerous and artificial smoke.

They had to advance through it, that was a given, but moving through it gave many advantages to the enemy, it was easier to see someone moving through smoke after all then it was to see somebody in cover on the other side of it.

Choices, they didn't have any, again.

This whole battle, correction, this whole campaign was beleaguered by that simple minor factor.

They had been trying to gain the initiative, to be able to make their own choices for the campaign, not have the enemy make them for them all the time but opportunities had been few and far between.

Iblis dominated and controlled the campaign, which was a bad position to be in, the time constraints left them no choice but to accept it and that certainly wasn't a good thing. Still, as always, you do the best you can with what equipment, men and time you have available, and hope the enemy dies a lot faster then you do. Normally, he would say, 'hope to be the one that gets to go home', but that seemed inappropriate for this battle, too many had died, and given the rush with which the operation had been carried out, it was probable that the fates of many would never truly be known. Guessed perhaps, but not known.

The enemy had the biggest advantages of course, home field, the idea of knowing the terrain, or in this case, the base you were fighting in was an advantage never to be underestimated, but to have weapons that wouldn't run out of ammo…

Lucien gripped his looted pistols grimly in each hand, they were… interesting, that was for certain. No apparent need for ammo, but one shot would stun, a second kill, a third…

Useful if you were in the business of not leaving any evidence behind he admitted, and quite versitle tools, but still, they didn't feel right in his hands.

Not that he had any choice in the matter, his last weapon, an Uzi he had taken of a scratch company volunteer who wouldn't be needing it any more had run out of ammo ages ago. In a situation like that, you made do with what was to hand and be grateful for it, there were certainly far worse alternatives after all.

An advance… Lucien nodded acknowledgement as the battered, fearful looking Lieutenant in front of him signalled the charge, then passed the word along to the remnants of his own squad.

If this went right, that would be another corridor in their hands, if not, then in all likelihood he wouldn't have to worry about ammunitions shortages ever again.