Author's Notes: Sorry about the incrediably long delay in getting this chapter out to you guys. I just finished my year of study at University so I should be able to devote more time to writing but don't count on it. I'm going to get a job as soon as possible but I should still be able to resume updates to my stories with more speed than once every seven months. Anyway, I'm sure none of you care about any of that. So as always any comments, suggestions, ideas, complaits as long as they ain't flames, will be taken seriously and given a fair chance.
Now on with the story!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter 12
The steady droning of the C-130 Hercules four massive prop engines was a soothing sound to dozens of seasoned warriors that were part of the cargo. Three dozen members of the SGC's newly expanded offensive forces were asleep in the hold, following the motto of military forces everywhere take the sleep you can get since you never know when you'll get another chance. SG-1, along with the team commanders for the other units that had been assigned as additional firepower, sat in a forward compartment of the gigantic plane, going over the extremely sketchy information that they had been given so far on their target and mission which was barely enough to even give them an overlay of what they would be facing.
"Sir, what opposition are we going to be facing? Details were a little scarce when we were given our mission briefing." Major Castleman, SG-3, asked.
"According to Harris, demons. Vampires if you want to be exact." O'Neill answered.
"You're kidding right?"
"Fraid not Major. We managed to get some independent confirmation on the hostiles. I tend to believe Thor when says something exists." O'Neill replied.
"Well shit." Castleman muttered. "So how do we deal with them? I mean is it like in the movies, stake through the heart and all that?"
"Yes, it's exactly like that." Xander answered as he walked into the partitioned off command section. "Most of the movies got it right, stakes through the heart, decapitation, fire, holy objects and all that will disable a vampire if not kill it outright. But don't forget for an instant that a vampire is on average four times stronger than a human, faster, more resilient and a hell of a lot meaner."
"And they've invested suburbia California?" Captain Weber joked. A few of the other officers in the room cracked some smiles and smirks at the ludicrous idea that a creature out of myth and legend was really out there.
"Yes, they have and the death total is rising every damn night. It's so bad that the local high school's newspaper has a daily obituary section. That alone should tell you something." Harris answered. He could see the need for the men to have some humor over a situation like this but he didn't want them to lose sight of what was important here. That people every single damn night were losing their lives to these creatures and it had to stop.
"Jesus." Weber exclaimed.
"Alright, joking aside, do you have any hard Intel for us?" O'Neill interjected. They were only a few hours out from Los Angeles Air Force base where they would then proceed north to the target location. After that it was up to Harris to give them directions, a situation that wasn't sitting well with some of the other team commanders. A civilian in charge of a military operation like this grated on everyone's nerves but the more experienced officers recognized that the kid, according to O'Neill at least, had experience and contacts that they would need in order to survive in the combat zone.
"Ok, gather round and watch the screen. It's home movie time. If you have any relevant questions I'll answer them, bullshit ones are ignored." Xander said as he used his armor's external wireless system to connect to the computer-briefing screen. It took a few extra seconds to interface since the system wasn't exactly designed for this type of interaction but Cortana managed to jury-rig the system.
Images flowed across the screen; mostly a random jumble of crap until the system stabilized and a topography map of the town came into existence. "Ok people listen up and listen good. Sunnydale, aka Sunny Hell by those in the know, is a town situated on top of an inter-dimensional portal that links this dimension and another hereby referred to as Hell for the foreseeable future. And before you ask I'm not taking any theological questions on how that's possible, deal with it. The town is infested with a variety of demons, vampires being the most prominent. They tend to congregate around cemeteries, run down sections of the town, which there is a surprising amount of, and they also tend to frequent hot spots of activity such as bars, clubs, malls, or wherever a lot of people will be. Those are prime hunting grounds for them.'
"Make no mistake gentleman, vampires are vicious creatures that rely on instinct and their heightened senses to move about as they track down their prey. Before you go thinking that they are no more than dumb animals you should know that once the demon takes over the body, and this is a prime requirement in becoming a vampire, they gain all knowledge, skills, and memories that the original personality had. If they knew how to operate a jet fighter, the demon does too. Do not underestimate them."
"What types of weapons should we expect?" Major Samantha Carter interjected.
"Good question. The answer is, I don't know for sure. Some vampires disdain modern weapons for some reason, might be dependent on what era they were created in since they tend to bring that era's beliefs and junk through the ages with them. It could be because a vampire has a lot of built in weaponry, same as the other demon breeds out there. A vamp doesn't need to be holding a weapon to be a threat; they have their fangs, which are capable of draining a normal human of its blood within sixty seconds. Don't ask me how that's possible but its true and unfortunately I've seen it done."
Lieutenant Waters, one of the attached medics, looked somewhat skeptical at this claim. Keeping her thoughts to herself she wondered at some of the possibilities for a detailed medical examination of a vampire, it would prove to be a memorable trip at least in her mind. Not to mention it kept her from having to make the choice of staying on Earth at the soon to be revised SGC base under Cheyenne Mountain or to the new primary base on the other side of the galaxy.
As Xander spoke at length at the various weaknesses and strengths of demons that could be expected to be encountered in the sleepy town of Sunnydale Cortana displayed the pictures with diagrams of weak points, natural armor formations, and built in weaponry so that the assembled soldiers could get a visual idea of what they'd be facing. The assembled commanders sometimes taking notes, or asking pointed questions for further information when they need more.
1010101
The troops assigned to this mission, most calling it a snipe hunt, were scattered throughout the cavernous hold of the plane. Some sleeping, others checking their equipment, yet even more playing cards a time-honored tradition before a mission. The few civvies, or dead weight as the soldiers referred to them, were seated in a forward section reclined in the comfortable first class style chairs that were usually reserved for VIP's or high ranking generals if any were aboard.
Faith Lehane, current Slayer, was fast asleep in her chair dreaming. Her watcher, who was now as close to her as a mother could be to her child something that she would never have imagined in a thousand years, which granted her the comfort and stability that she needed to fall asleep on a military plane.
Linda Pryce sat beside her adopted daughter, something that still brought a smile to her face whenever she thought about it. The events at Set's mansion had finally broken through the last few remaining emotional barriers that Faith had in place to protect herself from harm. Of course she would have preferred a less emotionally frightening manner in which to do that but she would take what she could get, the end was the same in any way.
101010101
Flash.
Faith wandered through what appeared to be the crumbling remains of a town. The buildings looked like they had imploded from the damage that was wrought on their outer surfaces. The skyline was dominated by raging fires as far as the eye could see. All around she could hear shrieks of pain, suffering, rage, people pleading for their lives that were cut off so suddenly.
Flash.
The sight before her made her gag. A field of corpses stretched from horizon to horizon. Decaying bodies numbering in the millions were haphazardly piled on top of one another, as creatures that resembled something out of Lovecraft's worst nightmare slowly undulated on top of the sea of corpses. Even from miles away she could see the tentacles that slowly extended out what could only be its mouth, scooped up a pile of human remains before they were suddenly devoured by the creature. Before she could react a tentacle flared out from the creature and screamed downward unerringly homing in on her location, screaming in terror Faith could nothing more than stand there waiting for the inevitable death that was sure to come.
Flash.
Shaking like a leaf Faith looked around too terrified to grasp where she was. It took seconds that seemed like days, for her to grasp that she was till alive. Glancing at the towering buildings that ascended into the heavens she slowly came to grasp the idea that she was alive and not inside some demons belly slowly being digested.
'New York. I'm in New York.' Faith thought as she tried to figure out how she had come to be in the city.
A rising shriek drew her eyes skyward where she saw a sight that should have terrified her but didn't. Floating high in the air over the towering skyscrapers was a massive pyramidal ship, gleaming gold colored hull of the brightest material that she could name. Others around her were staring at the floating ship, if it was a ship, which just sat serenely in the heavens. All of a sudden without warning bright lights began to pulse off the sides of the ship, within seconds everyone knew that it was an attack of some kind. How else could you explain skyscrapers suddenly deciding to explode on contact with the glowing light beams that hit them.
All around her people screamed in terror as they ran for their lives, which were cut so short as energy beams began to rain down on them. Millions died that she could see, millions more died from the falling debris that poured down on them.
Flash.
Now she was standing in front of the White House where yet another ship was descending from the heavens. This one was radically different in design; instead of sharp corners this one had softly rounded edges. A gleaming off white, silverish, colored hull with flared out wings and two massive forward facing fins that stuck up high off of the main hull of the ship. For a moment she thought that it was going to attack Earth as well but it didn't. Instead white beams began to flare out from dozens of points on the ships hull, everywhere they touched they made people disappear and even though this should have terrified her it didn't. Somehow she just knew that those people were safe that whoever was in control of that ship was on their side.
Flash.
The sky was full of dragons, creatures from myth and legend that flew through the air on their leathery wings. From their maws fire emanated and wherever it touched ground the Earth was destroyed. Whole cities were blotted out as wave after wave of dragons dove from the clouds to breath fire on the helpless people.
Flash.
England, Faith didn't know how she knew that but she did. She was in England staring at the softly rolling green hills of the country. All of a sudden a flare of light drew her attention to what looked like a dead and decaying oak tree that sat alone in the side of a hill. From her vantage point she could see creatures coming into existence as they emerged from the bark of the tree, they took on shapes, forms of indescribable horrors. Even before they had fully formed they were already battling one another, for supremacy as they moved off in all directions. As they passed her position she could feel true evil, blacker than black, something so indescribable that it defied words.
The flash's came faster now, every few seconds she jumped from location to location. Barely staying in place long enough for her to grasp the basics of what was happening. She could see towns, cities, peoples, all of it burning, fire raining down from the heavens. Fault lines cracked and vented their fury as the unrelenting energy fire since that's all it could possibly be poured down from hundreds of those pyramidal warships. Cities toppled under the weight of fire, military forces that were woefully inadequate for the job tried their best as they launched nuclear tipped missiles from dozens of silos across the planet, countries that had at one point been the worst of enemies were sharing their tactical data in the hopes that at least one of them would be able to find a way to use it to save mankind.
FLASH
Faith stumbled around trying to get her bearings. She was no longer glimpsing sections of the Earth at phenomenal speeds. She was standing in a throne room, a primitive one at that, the walls was covered in the same writing that had appeared in Seth's mansion. For a second she wondered if her whole rescue and subsequent trip to the SGC had been a hoax but she it didn't feel write.
Turning around she saw a viewscreen, at least that's the word that popped into her head all those hours of watching nerd sci-fi shows at Linda's house paid off, and on it she saw an image of Earth. Rather than feel the sense of wonder that most people had when they saw their homeworld from space she felt horror. From what she could see the world was burning, mushroom clouds dotted the planet until she could no longer distinguish one from another.
A sound from behind her drew her attention and the sight that she saw was enough to make her scream in terror.
1010101010
Everyone in the plane reacted immediately, instinctively to the scream that penetrated throughout the cavernous plane. Soldiers that had been napping, playing cards, shot to their feet snapping weapons up into place as they scrambled into defensive positions.
Shouts for orders, clarification, and information came from dozens of throats as everyone tried to figure out what was going on. The team leaders boiled out of the briefing room one after the other, though Xander was the first out, his armor allowing him to just shatter the door with a swift kick that shot the decimated metal plates to the other side of the hold.
"What's going on?" Xander shouted as he carefully scanned the area. Seeing nothing he moved over to where Linda was desperately trying to wake Faith up from the throes of what appeared to be a horrendous nightmare.
"I don't know, one second she's smiling, the next she's screaming her head off." Linda frantically said as she shook Faith's apparently comatose body. Nothing that she did could wake up the dreaming Slayer.
"MEDIC!" O'Neill roared over the commotion. He didn't have all the clues yet but he knew that this had to be a problem for the doc's; they had the training to handle this situation.
Before Lieutenant Waters could even arrive the screaming stopped as suddenly as it started. Faith had managed to wake up. Weakly starring up at the people surrounding her she uttered just one word. "What?"
Castleman snorted in reply.
"You tell us kid, you were the one screaming loud enough to wake the dead and then kill'em again." Captain Raleigh gently said.
"I wasn't screaming." Faith defensively replied. She didn't scream, not ever. Well not in terror at least, there were other times in her life that she screamed but that only happened when she found some stud to give her a ride.
"Yes you were." Raleigh defended his position. He wasn't about to let some snot-nosed brat tell him different.
"Wasn't"
"Was."
"Wasn't"
"Was."
"Wasn't"
"Was."
"ENOUGH!" O'Neill roared. "The both of you, stop acting like children."
"I'm not a child!" Faith shouted in reply. Crossing her arms over her chest she slumped back into the chair and gave off all the appearances of settling in for a good sulk.
"Ok, you're not a child. Now do you wanna tell us what you were dreaming of that scared you so much that it required you to scream loud enough that I still have a ringing in my ears." O'Neill questioned. Having been a parent for a number of years had given him some skills in carefully questioning children though not all of them could be applicable to the young woman.
"I had a dream, it was a Slayer dream." Faith muttered in reply as if that should be enough of an explanation.
Linda who had up to this point been quiet suddenly shot to her feet. "Colonel, I don't think this is the best place to talk about it. Could we go somewhere a bit more private?"
O'Neill was about to demand for a full explanation when Xander moved closer. "I'd second that advice Colonel."
Staring for a full ten seconds at the impassive faceshield of the Spartan's armor, he once again had this sense of familiarity with the armor but brushed it off, and nodded. "Ok, back to the briefing room. Faith, Linda, care to join us? The rest of you stand down and get back to doing whatever the hell it was your were doing."
For the next two hours Faith described in intricate detail everything that she could remember from the dream. Events that had taken place, the landmarks that she could remember seeing, cities, and towns, all of the places that she had watched burn to the ground as the fire rained down from the heavens. The assembled soldiers had stood their with the look of utter disbelief on their faces, unwilling to accept the nightmares of a young teenage girl as some sort of warning of the future but when both the Spartan and Linda Pryce had begun treating it as a distinct possibility they had started to doubt. Could this young girl have really received a premonition of the future and if so could they leave it to chance?
O'Neill stood off to the side watching the Spartan and the girls mother comfort her while still subtly pumping her for more information. "Carter, what's your take on this?"
"Sir, she described a Ha'tak class warship in perfect detail. That alone should be enough since she couldn't have seen it anywhere else. We don't have any images of one in our databases so Harris couldn't have shown her and that second ship she described sounds an awful lot like an Asgard ship. The white energy beam that she mentioned does fit the description of their transporter beams, though I can't be sure."
"Which brings up even more questions. The main ones being, how far down the timeline does this attack occur, and how bad must it have been to make the Asgard help in the evacuation of the planet?" O'Neill replied. "We don't have a choice, we can't just ignore this. We'll have to treat it as reliable until and when we receive information to the contrary."
"Doesn't the Protected Planets Treaty prevent any attack on Earth by the Goa'uld?" Carter asked.
"It does and it doesn't."
"I'm not sure I understand sir?"
"The treaty prevents any attack by the Goa'uld System Lords. It doesn't prevent one of them from going rogue and doing it. To maintain the treaty the System Lords would have to make an attempt to stop it, unless they want the Asgard to crush them like a bug in retaliation, but they could say that they weren't capable of intercepting the rogue in time and that still leaves us up shit creek without the paddle or the canoe." O'Neill answered. After the whole fiasco with the treaty summit he had asked Thor for a translated copy so that he read the damn thing at home, he didn't want to be caught flat-footed by some obscure amendment in the fine print. In the end it was a complete bluff on the Asgard's part anyway, they didn't have the ships to enforce the treaty to begin with. If the Goa'uld ever figured that out then Earth was screwed.
Major Carter stood silently for a moment before another disturbing thought hit her. "How many people could we evacuate off Earth if we did face an all out attack?"
"I don't know, the Alpha site is still gearing up so we don't have the resources to maintain a stable enough food supply for more than a hundred thousand right now. Given enough time we might be able to accommodate a million or so but that'll require a lot of rationing. Last I heard the President was opening up the secondary Gate to our allies, Brits and Canadians first. It'll be transported up to one of the Canadian's Diefenbunker style bases and then we'll coordinate the Gate usage so neither will interfere with the other so that we can both maintain a stable supply chain to our off-world bases." O'Neill mentioned. In a way he was glad that POTUS was opening up the Gate to their allies, it would free up some American troops from other commitments here on Earth. Not to mention it would give them some political leeway down here on Earth and out in the galaxy if they for once had an ally with motives that they could understand.
"I'd better give Hammond a call. He's going to want to pass this up the chain." O'Neill said as he walked out of the compartment, obviously on his way to another section of the plane in search of a secure phone.
A short while later the C-130 Hercules touched down on the darkened airstrip of Los Angeles Air Force Base. The base commander had been alerted that a Special Forces Operations plane would be touching down and that he was to have all non-essential personal well away from the strip when it did. Even so there was still a good number that were on hand to observe three military grade black Humvee's roll off the back of the plane. Men and women in full combat gear disembarked and began to load weaponry, ammo crates and other gear into the back of the Humvee's that had been requisitioned from the bases motor pool. The supply trucks that had also been requisitioned, plus the attendant gear that usually went with a major operation had already been loaded. They were just waiting for the Special Forces operatives to show and take command of the group.
Airman Bishop watched as the convoy moved out, pulling out onto the access road that would take them to the highway and into the night. Turning to one of his buddies he asked. "What the hell was that?"
"Whatever it was you keep it to yourself. Something about this doesn't smell right to me. Something big is gonna go down." Sergeant Dianne Isherwood replied.
"But Sarge!"
"You keep your damn mouth shut or I'll have you cleaning out the latrines with your tongue for the next month." She ordered. Satisfied that the young airman wasn't going to do anything too stupid she turned to watch the convoy's headlights fade into the distance. Whatever was going to go down was going to go down close, her gut just told her that, and it was going to be bad.
101010101
"This is Wendy Ridley for WXPN News, Good Morning Los Angeles. Today we have yet another beautiful day for you to wake up to. The skies are going to be clear and the temperature is going to be a balmy 97 degrees, doesn't that just sound fun!" The perky blonde beamed into the camera as she tried to muster the enthusiasm for being stuck out in the cold morning doing a location shot for the early morning edition.
'Ok, maybe I shouldn't have kneed the bastard in the balls.' Wendy thought to herself as she continued to drone on and on about what a great day it was going to be. She could see that the cameraman's eyes had once again focused on her chest instead of her face where it should be. "Shouldn't have worn the sheer top today.'
All of sudden the cameraman, Joe something or other, began to gesture furiously behind her. Glaring at him she shot a look over her shoulder to see what got him so riled up.
"Holy shit!"
Thirteen military Humvee's, with a convoy of about ten more camouflaged military supply trucks, were rolling down the highway, she could plainly see the armor that had been grafted onto the sides. The one in the lead seemed to be cut from the night itself, running without lights the black armor just glistened in the starlight and artificial light from the streetlights that reflected off its sides. One by one they slowly moved past her position.
"Tell me you're getting this, god tell me you're getting this." Wendy pleaded as she sidestepped out of the frame to let Joe pan the camera around to get as much of the shot as he could.
"Got it, got it, got it. Steve! Get on the phone and call the station tell'em we got a new lead story for the morning edition."
101010101
Major Louis Ferretti walked to the window in his forth story office overlooking the newly completed airstrip, one of about twelve airstrips and the final one to be needed actually. The Army Corp of Engineers were congratulating themselves on a job well done, a little impromptu celebration was going on down near the parked bulldozers and paving machines that had just finished putting the last coat of tarmac down.
The Alpha Site, what was supposed to be the most secure location and best-kept secret in the Pentagon was now the first colony of the United States of America not on the planet Earth. Already a little more than nine thousand men, women, and children called this little planet home. Located on the edge of the galaxy far away from the traditional territories claimed by the Goa'uld its defensive posture lay more in secrecy than any entrenched positions.
On the horizon far from the burgeoning military base that was growing by leaps and bounds everyday Ferretti could see the skyline of the first township of New Cheyenne as the civilian inhabitants were calling it. As good a name as any in his opinion. Some smartass Lieutenant had come up with the idea of letting some of the kids pick a name for the planet and even though he had feared, rightly so, that some idiot kids would submit names ranging from Planet Bob to Planet Ass-End-Of-Nowhere the one that was picked in the end was one he could live with. And so the Alpha Site world had received its new name. It became Nova Terra.
Shaking his head he brought himself back to the present. The base and its facilities had barely been operational for more than four weeks and already problems were starting to crop up. Discipline problems were his main concern, simply put the troops had nowhere to relieve any tension or spend their pay. This had been solved by getting permission from the Joint Chiefs to use some of the captured Alkesh and Tel'tacs to bring in supplies from Earth that were deemed to low down the priority list to come through the gate. Namely DVD's, movies, CD's, books, games, computers, console gaming systems, anything and everything that the troops could think up so that they could have something to do on this godforsaken planet.
One of the few Civvies in the group that was so far running the planet, which would probably become the defacto local government of the town in the near future, had decided that instead of distributing those materials for free it should be transferred to some enterprising individuals who were attempting to start up some local businesses. It had been a push for kick starting the local economy and Ferretti had approved it almost instantly. Even though the men were a little pissed that they would have to actually buy the stuff from local merchants instead of getting it hand delivered by the continuous cargo pipeline being shuttled by the Tel'tacs they had finally acquiesced to the orders to behave themselves even though there was still a lot of grumbling going on.
A knock on the door brought him out his deep thoughts. Something that would have amused Jack to no end.
"What?" He barked. Ferretti was in no mood to be bothered, he still had damn near a thousand requisitions and reports to go through and it wasn't even noon local time.
"Sorry to bother you sir, but Dr. Archer is here to see you." Astrid said as she peeked in the door. She was the civilian clerk that he had managed to snag from one of the groups that had come through the gate. After seeing her file, which said that she had worked at the Pentagon for a number of years as a secretary he had immediately offered her, a job before anyone else could, and after assuring her that the job would stick no matter who took over as Alpha Site commander, she had accepted.
"Christ, is it eleven already?" Ferretti exclaimed.
"11:30 sir. I thought you could use some extra time so I pushed back the appointment." Astrid replied as she came into the office fully, kicking the door shut with a foot was she calmly walked over to his desk. Even though he was watching her the whole time he couldn't figure out how in less than a minute she had taken a desk that was covered nearly a foot high in a jumbled mess and straighten it all out. "Shall I send her in?"
"You are a godsend."
"So my husband says every day." Astrid smirked.
"Send her in." Ferretti ordered as he sat down in the high-backed leather office chair that he had somehow managed to snag from the Quartermaster.
Dr. Pamela Archer, a woman of about forty who looked half that, was a serious looking woman dressed in a business suit that wouldn't have looked out of place on Wall Street. "Major Ferretti, it's good to see you again."
"You too Doctor, so tell me. What can I do for you today?"
"I need your approval to push the OWP program into full production. Our test designs have managed to exceed even our most conservative estimates."
"That would be the staff cannon platform correct?" Ferretti remarked. He could remember a few weeks ago when she had come to him with a request for several staff cannons that had been acquired, read stolen, from various System Lords. She had wanted to marry them to an orbital platform, rig it up with some shields, sensors, station keeping thrusters and see if it could be used as a rudimentary defense platform. After some careful consideration he had approved the plan and now it appeared to be paying off.
"Yes sir. We could probably have about two dozen produced and in orbit within a month, and with ramped up production capabilities still coming online we should be able to reach a plateau production level of about one a day within a three months."
"Approved. Take whatever personnel you need to get them in the sky as quickly as possible, just don't take anyone off the Prometheus project."
"Understood." Seeing as how she had nothing else to report at this time Dr. Archer left the office, most likely to go tell her R&D team of her success.
Deciding to take a break from the tedious mountains of paperwork that were slowly denting his desk under their combined weight Ferretti called up the latest reports from the Prometheus project. The original plan had been to construct a ship much like the Battlestars from the fictional program Battlestar Galactica, but when the Stargate program had begun to bring in Naval experts and researchers they had quickly quashed that idea. Instead the Prometheus project was now busy designing a full up dreadnaught that measured in at just shy of one kilometer in length covered in heavy weapons and armor that were still being designed, constructed and tested.
The Asgard Thor had managed to somehow sneak them the plans for a particle beam weapon according to O'Neill though no one was going to mention this to anyone else since it was technically against the Protected Planets Treaty. Even with the ship on the drawing boards there was already construction underweigh in a small anchorage built into an island at the mouth of the bay that the Alpha Site base was built near. Ferretti could see, barely, the silhouette of the construction bays that were being built as quickly as quality would permit and as soon as they were completed the first five warships for space combat would be built and commissioned into service. The construction schedule called for one dreadnaught, one carrier, and three battlecruisers, in that order. In time they would be able to build enough slips to construct more ships, for a more diverse fleet, but they needed to get a deep space force with strategic depth up and running and fast.
101010101
Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet sat in his throne like chair on the bridge of the Beliskner. For four thousand years the ancient warship had served as his flagship, served in countless campaigns across three galaxies. Over the centuries he had come to know every single millimeter of his ship, he could tell when he was straining the engines past their limits when the deck plates began to vibrate. When the shield generators were approaching failure when the whine they emitted began to oscillate on a specific frequency.
He had already made his report to the Asgard High Council, using hyperspace communications to deliver the report along with a copy of the treaty that had been forged between him and Daniel Jackson. With that he had received the news that a diverse group of Asgard were being assembled at Othala where they, with an appropriate escort of several warships, would along with the prototype be moved to the world of Venus for safekeeping.
It was this knowledge that left him secure in the belief that he could make a high speed run by the red planet known to the Humans of Earth as Mars before any defense systems that might have been left on the planet could activate and fire. Forgoing the shields that would drain his ship of critically needed power for an intergalactic escape if needed he decided to transfer the energy to the scanners, hoping to penetrate whatever scattering devices the Ancients might have employed. To borrow one of O'Neill's sayings 'What your superiors don't know about they can't countermand.'
The Beliskner gently moved closer and closer to the red planet. Its image began to grow on the primary viewscreen at a phenomenal rate, and yet no matter how much power he put into the scanners he could find no evidence of advanced technology anywhere on the planet. Approaching the range that would put him, and his ship, inside of the planet's moons orbits Thor began to consider diverting course and heaving for Othala.
A beep drew his attention. The sensors had finally found something, the planets two moons were not the inert rocks that the pretended to be. Scans had penetrated the camouflage programs that kept them hidden and now that the ship knew what to look for it quickly began to find evidence of Ancient technology, artifacts and outposts scattered across the planets surface. A distinctive signature that could only be a Stargate was emboldened on the viewscreen and even as it appeared a dozen more appeared similar in nature but lesser in power. Curious Thor focused the scanners on one of the symbols but before he could even program in a new scanning routine the ships proximity sensors began to scream.
The moons, Ancient defense platforms in reality, had each launched a dozen drones and even now they were homing in on the distinctive Ion signature of the warships engines. Not wanting to push his luck against the Ancient weapons platforms Thor activated the ships hyperspace generator and vanished from the solar system. The drones left far behind, unable to follow into hyperspace. Something that Thor was grateful for since he knew that the Ancients had long ago developed weapons that were capable of hunting down and intercepting a ship in hyperspace.
Noticing a communications channel light was blinking on his command console Thor activated the appropriate rune.
"Supreme Commander Thor, this is Commander Tyr aboard the Valhalla. We have engaged a significant Replicator force in sector seven nine four. Enemy forces number six thousand seven hundred and twenty seven ships. We were only able to assemble forces approaching parity with theirs. We require assistance, the battle does not go well."
"Understood. I will be there shortly." Thor replied. As he spoke he altered his course to the sector designated in the message. He would arrive in fifteen minutes according to Earth time.
"I also regret to inform you that the Mjolnir has fallen in battle. Commander Magni remained behind to allow time for the rest of the crew to evacuate. He did not survive. I'm sorry old friend."
For a brief moment Thor felt nothing, absolutely nothing and then he could do nothing more than feel the bevy of emotions that flew through him. For the first time in tens of thousands of years Thor actually felt something akin to sorrow, grief and then rage over the death of his eldest son. For millennia the Asgard had been incapable of reproducing through sexual reproduction but that didn't mean that there wasn't any children still around from previous generations. In Earth terminology Thor was still a married man with a wife and children, who he still dotted upon, even though they had been alive for tens of thousands of years.
"Understood." Thor replied and then cut the channel.
The Asgard warship screamed through hyperspace, its deck plates vibrating in unison with the banshee wail emanating from the neutrino ion generators that were dangerously close to overload and a catastrophic failure. Thor ignored it all. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. Revenge.
1010101010101
Deep space.
Twelve hundred Ha'tak class vessels sat silently in the void between galaxies. No one knew that these ships existed, only one being knew of them and he had waited for a thousand years. Marshalling his energies he had drawn forces from hidden strongholds that he had constructed when it had first appeared that his fellows were uniting against him. For centuries they had lain in wait, knowing that one day their God would return and with him at the fore they would sweep the galaxy clean of all dissenters and crush their foes beneath the armored boots of his armies.
On a planet in a nearby system a great host had assembled itself in the plains before the planets sole Stargate. Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of Jaffa stood silent in their serried ranks. Every single one of them was wearing the newest armor that their God had provided them. For untold millennia they had worn the same armor as their brothers that were in service of their other, lesser, Gods, but no longer. For their lord had seen fit to gift them with better equipment.
The new Jaffa armor was more form fitting, incorporating the latest in technological advances that allowed them to take four times the level of punishment as the old armor. Their helmets, something that only a few used to be granted, were now standard. Every single Jaffa had a sealed helmet that was proofed against nuclear, biological, and chemical attacks. With a variety of sensors embedded into them they could keep in contact with their fellow warriors to coordinate attacks across planetary distances.
They waited. The Great Host of the Jaffa waited for the First Prime to give the order to attack. They waited. For hours they stood in the unbearable, omnipresent heat of the double suns. They waited.
A lone Jaffa ringed down from a floating Ha'tak, the only source of shade for those warriors lucky enough to be shielded by its bulk. His armor was golden in its coloring, denoting his rank as First Prime. Striding to the pedestal known as the DHD to the thrice-damned Tau'ri he punched in a specific set of symbols. Once the Gate stabilized from opening its portal the First Prime turned to the waiting army and yelled.
"FOR THE GREATER GLORY OF ANUBIS!"
The answering roar would have shaken the mountains to dust if any were nearby. Tens of thousands of Jaffa in ordered ranks charged through the gate. Intent on shattering any who dared to stand in their path.