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Chapter 9: Brewing storm

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Part 5

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Babylos

Moloc's Throne World

Milky Way galaxy

There were only charred bodies as far as Jek'il could see, and he could see pretty far, thanks to the magical holograms. His glorious redemption now tasted like ashes.

What he fought today wasn't an honorable battle like he fought before, much less the kind his elders told stories about. Molocs' fanatics came straight at them. The First Mechanized Jaffa Legion blew them to pieces at a range they couldn't effectively fight from. Only those cunning enough to try and flank the loyalists through the forest came close enough to pose any danger. Dug-in positions, armored vehicles, and superior firepower ensured those cunning Jaffa serving the mad god Moloc suffered an utter failure.

Jek'il could see it all. Their stand, combined with the allied army's counter-attack, saw the total destruction of Moloc's army. Tens of thousands of dead spread around the road, making big chunks of it impassible. In places, there were corpses stacked up taller than a combat transport. Those were the areas where Moloc's Jaffa fought most fiercely to reach the Chappa'ai or break through to the dubious safety of the city.

The rest of the road between those points wasn't much better. Clumps of corpses and glassed areas marked the places where fanatics made their last stand.

Jek'il saw it repeatedly while the combat transports ferried troops to the city.

They found Perun himself waiting for them on the gate's fortifications. Their god had been busy, ensuring his loyal Jaffa wouldn't have to bleed to breach the walls.

Despite everything that happened, Jek'il still felt both joy and shame. His god was right here, obviously alive and intact! This obvious fact did little to erase the shame Jek'il still felt. Contrary to the Jaffa's belief, the slaughter of the fanatics didn't help. It just left him feeling empty.

The only thing Jek'il had left was the Six Sacred Actions. The Jaffa latched on them like a lifeline, praying that he might clear his honor through service to Lord Perun and his people.

Fortunately for him, the time for service was now. After delivering the latest batch of Jaffa to the gate, Jek'il's unit led the assault on the city. Jek'il's vehicle led four combat transports thanks to its enclosed turret, followed by a long column of Jaffa. Lord Perun himself rode in one of their vehicles!

Above them, Al'kesh circled like birds of prey, ready to dive on any trace of resistance.

The advance was strange and unsettling. The loyalists faced virtually no resistance on the way to the palace. Here and there, Jek'il could see people peering through windows on the upper floors of their homes. They all looked scared and shocked at what was happening.

Not a single one of Moloc's Jaffa was there to try and slow them down. 'Did we kill them all?!', Jek'il wondered.

The driver parked in front of the palace's shattered stairs. They were in a large plaza, covered in smoking craters and Jaffa corpses. Jek'il could see the still smoking remains of guard towers and weapon emplacements. They had covered the plaza with their weapons before the Al'kesh bombed the area.

Jek'il aimed at the cracked columns in front of the palace's entrance. Finally, he could see Moloc's Imperial Guard hiding in the shadows.

"Contact front! Behind the columns!" The young Jaffa reported.

"Suppressive fire!" Perun's own voice answered. "My Wolves, we're going to take this ugly excuse for a palace and drag the mad god Moloc to justice!"

A group of Space Wolves locked in shields and headed up the ravaged stairs. Jek'il and his fellow gunners opened fire with twin-linked staff weapons, raining plasma upon the enemy. Perun himself followed the shield bearers, wielding a sword made of fire.

More Space Wolves, Lighting Legionaries, and even Horus' own Jaffa joined the assault.

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Heavy shields and suppressive fire allowed my Jaffa to cross the long and wide stairway without suffering casualties. As soon as we reached the columns, chain weapons and shields once again proved superior to staff weapons in close-quarters combat.

I jumped into the fray as well, wielding a lightsaber and Kara'kesh. A kinetic blast smashed a bunch of Moloc's idiots into the ground and walls, cracking the marble. Before they could recover, I was among them, using precise Makashi strikes to dispatch the Jaffa. Around me, my Space Wolves fought even harder than usual, determined to shine while under my gaze.

We butchered the palace's first line of defense in less than a minute.

Our next obstacle was a heavily armored door. I made a great show of fiddling with my Kara'kesh before pointing it at the entrance. I sent a kinetic blast and, at the same time, shoved the door with the Force. The damn thing rang like a giant gong, buckled and twisted yet held. It took me three strikes to tear the door out of its hinges, and by then, it was little more than a sheet of twisted, cracked metal.

I'll give Moloc this much credit; he didn't cut corners when building this part of his palace.

All around me, Jaffa cheered at the display of familiar "magic."

Shield-bearers formed in front of me, locking shields into a solid wall. It was just in time to receive a barrage of yellow plasma.

The door's fall had crushed a group of Moloc's Jaffa, stunning the rest I could see. There was a long marble-lined corridor beyond the entrance. Lines of burning torches lit it up, illuminating dozens of Moloc's Imperial Guard.

There were too few of them left to slow us down, and it didn't help them that all they had were staff weapons and shock grenades.

My Jaffa advanced, shooting Zats above their shields. A couple of Moloc's enthusiasts threw grenades at us, and I used a kinetic blast to send them back. The grenades detonated. Blinding light washed over many of Moloc's Jaffa. They all collapsed like old Trade Federation droids, with their command ship blown up.

"Up and at them!" I shouted.

My Space Wolves broke formation and charged. Their shields and heavy armor tanked the few plasma shots that came their way. Within seconds, they were among Moloc's remaining Jaffa, using chain weapons to rip and tear the enemy to pieces.

We secured the choke-point of a corridor and reached a large open chamber. It had multiple doors leading deeper into the palace.

"Wolves, you're on point. I want a squad at each door. Take any Goa'uld you find alive if practical. Lord Ra will sort out who merely served the mad god willingly and might be a Tok'ra spy! Purge the heretics, and if possible, take Moloc alive!" I ordered.

We stormed the palace, painting the walls red with fresh blood. All the while, I felt something lacking. I couldn't let myself properly cut loose, and even if I did, there was not a single worthy opponent on this Force-forsaken planet.

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"The destruction of Byblos' capital garrison in the field allowed Perun and Heru'ur's Jaffa to secure the city safely. Air strikes aimed at key strategic positions softened the capital. An airborne assault to take strategic locations broke the back of the resistance. Those factors allowed a direct assault upon Moloc's palace as soon as Perun assembled a critical mass of Jaffa. He led the assault, further enhancing his reputation. Further, Perun openly used a lightsaber and Kara'kesh hand device during the battle. That way, he emulated magic and further cemented his status as a god in the minds of many Jaffa."

Colonel Harry Mayborne of Earth, on the Liberation of Byblos

"Fire swords? After we saw Perun wield one to a devastating effect, we all wanted one. They're an elegant weapon that only the best could use without cutting themselves. Rumor has it that only those truly blessed by the gods of war could safely use the lightsabre! We've seen lesser gods, unworthy of the honor, try to wield such blades. Many of them proved themselves, False gods, that way."

Re'ol, former servant of Heru'ur

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Part 6

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16 August 1996

Area 51

United States

Milky Way galaxy

While the liberation of Byblos entered a critical phase, Jack O'Neill was none the wiser. He was, in fact, happier than he had been in a long time now. It was a clear summer night outside. Only the starry sky and a sliver of the moon illuminated the surrounding desert. If it wasn't for a few technical issues, the test would have happened a few days ago, during the new moon.

Ironically enough, more UFO enthusiasts were sniffing around the base's perimeter back then, compared to tonight, so it wasn't all bad.

Jack made a final check on his flight suit and the kludged-together life-support system. The Death Glider was supposed to have his own. However, no one was sure how and if it worked as advertised. An ejection seat wasn't a feature. That was why Jack had a parachute too. That was just a precaution, hopefully. Jack didn't look forward to trying to get out and jump from a failed alien craft.

The engineers couldn't decide if the lack of an ejection mechanism was an oversight or a prudent decision. The craft might have been sturdy enough to survive anything feasible, including a crash, that wouldn't outright kill the pilot anyway. Various computer tests on the extrapolated properties of the alien alloys used in its construction gave all kinds of exciting and useless results. They offered no answer so far, and no one would deliberately crash one of the precious aerospace fighters to test its durability that way.

"Colonel, you're cleared to lift off. The sky is clear, and there are no civilians in a position to observe you."

Outside, the support crew removed the ladder Jack used to climb into the cockpit. After adding the life support to the back of his seat, the engineers didn't want to risk the kludged system by lowering and raising the whole cockpit. That didn't exactly fill Jack with confidence, considering a part of tonight's test was a simulated dogfight, among other things.

"Roger that. Closing the canopy and powering up the craft." Jack followed protocol and eagerly placed his hands on the dark sphere. He felt the familiar prickling sensation, which went away much faster now. The consensus so far was that the Death Glider's system learned to recognize a pilot and adjusted to better interface with prolonged use.

The power plant came online with a quiet whine. Outside, the support crew made sure everyone was safely away and opened the hangar's doors. At the same time, the Death Glider's sensors came online, and Jack could see in all directions. It took him weeks to get accustomed to the sensation enough to be reasonably sure he could pilot that way.

"Dark Star One lifting off." The Colonel announced.

Jack became one with the craft, and they gently lifted. He could feel the wings shifting and locking down in their flight configuration.

"Dark Star One, the sky is clear. You have permission to launch."

"Affirmative, Dark Star One launching."

There was no roar of engines: just a bit louder whine and the barest hint of acceleration pressing down on Jack. The Death Glider flew out of the hangar like a bat out of hell, keeping its speed just below breaking the speed barrier. Jack smiled and cock-screwed in the air before shooting up, far away from curious eyes.

"Dark Star One, be advised that your radar return is odd. However, we still have a solid lock on your position." The supervisor in Area 51's control tower informed O'Neill.

"That's not surprising, isn't it?" Jack asked rhetorically. The whole craft had been built in outer space by aliens, using alien materials. It was also chock-full of weird gizmos.

The only real surprise was radar could track it. Then again, it might not matter, depending on how powerful the aliens' sensors were. For them, radar stealth might be irrelevant.

That was one of the things they would try and test tonight. An F-117 was on its way to the training airspace above Nevada's desert. An F-15 should also be coming for the fun part – a dogfight and testing the capability of modern BVR sensors in tracking the Death Glider.

Jack climbed to a comfortable ten thousand feet, leveled up, and focused on testing the sensors. The familiar prickling sensation intensified in a way it hadn't since he activated the Death Glider's systems the first few times. It was as if the machine was trying to figure out what exactly Jack wanted it to do and how to give him the information. Something clicked in his mind, and he could feel the craft reaching in before pulling back, and they were again one.

The comprehensive view flickered, showing dots slowly moving in all directions.

Jack focused on the larger, closer contacts. He got a sense of confusion, an unknown. That made sense. The Death Glider wouldn't recognize the type of an Earth aircraft. Despite that, Jack soon got a vague sense of the target's shape, speed, and direction. More importantly, he knew it had four heat sources that made it easy to track – two on each wing.

So a jetliner or military transport. It could be either.

"Control, I've been testing the sensors. This thing detects hundreds of contacts and naturally doesn't recognize them. By focusing on the closer one…." Jack quickly explained what he had figured out so far.

"That's good to know, Dark Star One. Keep us apprised of any changes you experience."

"Roger that, Control." Jack hummed. He shifted his focus from all the objects the Death Glider could detect to those heading in his general direction. Close to two-thirds of the contacts faded until Jack was barely aware of them.

Of the rest, almost all were far above him, often flying at similar cruising speeds.

Two contacts were different. One was approaching fast, at about twice the Death Glider's current altitude, so twenty thousand feet or so. The other was much slower and closer, approaching while flying about three to four thousand feet above the ground. Jack focused on that one, which turned out to be the closest airborne contact.

"Control, I think I just found that Night Hawk coming out to play," Jack stated, the approximate vector and speed of the incoming craft. "This thing has trouble translating speed and height into something that makes sense beyond being vague. However, according to our instruments, it is getting me where I want, as fast as I want. I'm unsure if that's some kind of interface or translation issue, even if this thing can look into my head."

"Captain Carter just raised the possibility that the Death Glider's computer isn't programmed with measure units we know. While it understands what you want to do, it simply can't translate the units it works with back into ours due to a lack of a proper reference frame you can understand. That might be why you're getting impressions instead of proper measurements."

"Huh. That kind of make sense. When launching, I wanted to go subsonic, and we did. I didn't need to think about that speed in our speed systems. When rising to ten thousand feet…." Jack trailed off and looked at the altimeter added to the control panel. "I saw the altimeter all the way up even if I wasn't watching it consciously. The interface might have judged the right height that way instead of figuring out what I meant when I wanted to rise to ten thousand feet." Jack looked speculatively at the innocent gadget.

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"The Dark Star One tests conclusively proved that the prototypes' sensors could ignore radar stealth. Initially, they could detect and track a Night Hawk flying at subsonic speeds at three thousand feet from over forty miles away. While conducting further tests would be prudent, this report concludes that radar stealth will soon be obsolete. Our current recommendation is to look into electronic countermeasures to prevent the targeting of our aircraft. If possible, ECM should conceal the precise location of our aircraft until they can enter their effective BVR range.

If vectored towards the Dark Star One, F-15's radar could detect and track it from roughly hundred and sixty miles. BVR effective engagement range against the prototype is currently in question. The Dark Star One was not equipped with any countermeasures during the test. Further, the prototype demonstrated unparalleled agility, acceleration, and high speed. We expect those factors would diminish the effectiveness of long-range BVR combat against Dark Star One type craft.

Those same factors make the prototype the superior dogfighter. During the test, the Dark Star One could pull turns at speed and acceleration, which would have seen the pilots of any aircraft in service pass out. Further testing proved that the Dark Star One is capable of physically impossible maneuvers for any aircraft currently in service in the United States Air Force, either due to exceeding pilot g-force endurance, or the structural integrity of the aircraft they fly."

from a classified report on the Dark Star One first field tests

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