Robotech: The Stargate Saga
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and universes that I am about to mangle around and mash together for my own demented author amusement – sadly all Robotech and Stargate characters and concepts remain the property of Harmony Gold and MGM respectively – I am merely borrowing them and make absolutely no profit from their use. As a result, please keep the legal attack dogs – also known as lawyers – firmly muzzled and on a leash as I have no money to give to anyone.
Chapter Thirty
Stargate Chamber
Fort Minotaur
A Short Time Later
Fully enclosed in his suit of Tristan powered combat armour and sitting astride a SHV-1 Cheetah attack hovercycle, Colonel Luis Ferretti watched calmly as the Stargate was once again dialled. Once again, they were heading to another world that had been attacked sometime in the last nine years by the Goa'uld, a world that thanks to a massive orbital bombardment seemed to be descending into an ice age or at very least was gripped by the equivalent of a nuclear or volcanic winter. Hopefully the winter would mean that they would be in for a much quieter mission this time around, not like when they'd visited Linkotis and been attacked first by a posse of Jaffa from the Stargate and then by crude, but quite effective, native anti-aircraft guns.
While he waited for the dialling sequence to be completed, he thought about the other thing about this planet they were going to, Calora, the thing that had prompted the Defence Council to immediately authorise a manned mission with none of the usual and sometimes quite acrimonious debate about the issue first. That something was of course the Ancient energy signature that was coming from somewhere underground a hundred- and fifty-kilometres northwest of the Stargate's coordinates in the centre of the ruined city. The Council wanted to know what the power source was and what was generating it and why. He would do his best to get them those answers, assuming that they could access whatever the facility was as there was no guarantee that they would find the entrance as it could easily be buried either by debris or a mountain of snow and ice.
The dialling sequence finishing and the Stargate roaring into life brought him out of his thoughts. Despite having seen the gate activation before he was still amazed by the sight of the silver-blue vortex bursting forth from the ring before settling back into the shimmering water-like surface of the wormholes event horizon. The fact that millions of years ago some ancient species, one that from what he had heard was very similar to them and whose legacy some of their people – like Captain Hunter – still carried in their blood and cells, had built these things not just here in the Milky Way but across a sizeable chunk of the universe was still something he struggled to really wrap his head around.
The radio in his helmet came to life. "Colonel Ferretti we've just downloaded the latest weather data from the Condor drone," General Richards voice said, "it's cold but clear on the other side, there is still no sign of survivors. You are your team are clear to proceed."
"Roger that sir," Ferretti acknowledged before switching frequencies to speak to his squad. "Alright people let's move out, proceed through the Stargate in single file."
"Yes sir," the rest of the squad acknowledged one after another. As they did so Ferretti switched his hovercycle on and the device rose a few inches off the floor then, taking the lead, he began making his way towards the Stargate.
Within seconds he reached the event horizon, prompting him to pause for a moment not sure that he would ever really get the hang of travelling through these damned things. Getting dematerialized and shot through a wormhole before being rematerialized at the other end by the receiving gate was, after all, not an easy thing for anyone to really wrap their head around. Especially as you were inexplicably still aware of what was going on during the transit, something that none of the scientists studying the Stargate and how it did what it did could understand or explain yet. Pushing aside the thoughts of what stepping, or in this case gliding on a cushion of air, through the Stargate entailed he directed the Cheetah through the event horizon and reality went crazy…
…there was a momentary feeling like water running over his skin and then suddenly he was shooting down a glowing blue ethereal tunnel through space. Patterns of light in the shape of the gate chevrons periodically pulsed down the length of the tunnel as it twisted and swerved in patterns and across inclines and declines that not even the craziest roller coaster designer would have conceived of in their most fevered dreams. Beyond the shimmering walls of the wormhole normal space could be seen as a slipstream blur of colours and shapes. The tunnel ceased its wild swings and a bright white light appeared ahead. He passed into the white light…
…and was suddenly gliding away from the Stargate onto the windswept, ruined square that dominated the centre of an equally ruined city. The HUD on his helmet letting him know that the other members of his team were following him through the Stargate onto this frozen world. Thankfully the environmental control systems built into the Tristan armour system immediately kicked in preventing any of them from feeling the deep cold. Gazing around from his seat Ferretti grimaced as he beheld the scene of utter devastation, the shattered, partially buried in the snow, and burned out remains of what had to have once been the heart of a thriving city.
It brought back some painful memories of both the Global Civil War and the aftermath of the Rain of Death. Especially the latter where his team had been deployed to assist in search and rescue operations in the handful of cities that had been levelled by conventional laser and particle beam fire from the Zentraedi fleet instead of reflex cannon fire as with the former there was a good chance of survival unlike the latter which left nothing but utter devastation and molten glass in its wake. Mentally he pushed aside the memories that wanted to surface, though no doubt some of what he had seen after the Rain would haunt his dreams tonight, they always did, and focused on the here and now and what needed to get done.
"Corporals Anderson and Turner take up station on either side of the gate," he ordered, "I want it under constant watch while we are here. No posse of Jaffa taking us by surprise this time please."
"Yes sir," the indicated corporals acknowledged before guiding their bikes into positions where they would be able to watch the gate and between the bikes 20mm pulse laser cannons and rocket propelled grenades as well as their rifles catch any hostile force that came from the gate in a lethal crossfire.
"The rest of you assume tactical driving formation six. We've got a long way to go to get to that power signature so let's get too it."
"Yes sir."
As the rest of the squad acknowledged his instructions Ferretti brought his Cheetah around and began driving to the northwest and the location of the energy signature that had teased the sensors of the Condor drone. The squad falling into formation with him as they began the long ride through the ruins of the Caloran capital city.
Unaware that they were being watched.
Presidential Bunker
That Same Time
President Stebran Jowmart resisted, just, the impulse to sigh as he gazed upon the sorry state of one of his few remaining suits. It was looking a little worse for ware, having not been cleaned properly since the day he, his family and numerous others, had been evacuated to this bunker as the Goa'uld fleet broke through their orbital defence grid and began positioning themselves to bombard Calora's surface. Oh, they were able to wash the suit but the kind of hypersonic, multiphasic cleaning that it really needed to be clean – not to mention keep the smart nanofiber weave intact and functioning properly – simply wasn't available to them. When they'd expanded this bunker there had been more important things to worry about, things that needed to be here, than bringing in one of those bulky high-tech cleaners.
Of course, the suit looking increasingly a little tacky didn't stop him from putting it on. He was still the president of the Caloran Confederacy – what little was left as there were only the people here in this bunker as all their evacuation transports had been shot down by the Goa'uld as they attempted to leave, none even making it outside the atmosphere – and he had to look the part.
Once he was dressed, he sat down at his desk and powered on the computer causing a holographic screen to blink into existence. For a few seconds it spluttered, and he thought it was going to shut down – again – but eventually it stabilized allowing him to log in. He shook his head as he entered his credentials and let the system scan him to determine if he was who he said he was. Like everything else they'd built in this bunker the technology in his desk was beginning to break down. They also had few spare parts remaining and it was frankly only a matter of time before they would have to abandon the bunker and brave the frozen wasteland that the surface of Calora had become after the Goa'uld deliberately targeted the planets supervolcanoes and other major seismic and volcanic centres in order to ensure nobody would survive to rebuild after their assault.
The only thing that was still working at full capacity here was the power and that was only because it was coming from the Artefact that his people had spent centuries researching – researching and learning from – an artefact that they were sure came from whichever ancient race had first created the Stargate network. Despite their protestations to the contrary, they knew that the Goa'uld - while they could use the gates and knew a great deal about the technology and how it worked – hadn't built the network. The gates were simply far too old, on the order of millions of years too old, for those megalomaniacal sentient parasites to have made them.
A bleep from his desk comm unit caught his attention and he pressed a button, really missing the days when he'd had a secretary to do such things. "Yes?" he asked.
"Mister President it's General Pemblake could you come to the situation room sir we might have a situation," came the voice of General Edwitur Pemblake, the officer in command of what little was left of the Caloran military, which was little more than a lightly armed security force for the bunker. Jowmart frowned slightly at that report, even as he wondered if it had something to do with the strange alien drone that sensors had shown flying about over the last day or so. A drone that had come from the Stargate but which they couldn't learn that much about as whatever it was made from was scattering what few sensors, they had in the city ruins that still worked.
"Alright I'll be right there," he said after a moment. He stood up from his desk and left the office that for years now had been the only world he had known and began making his way through the bunker towards the situation room. As he walked, he couldn't help but notice once again how run down everything was starting to get. When they'd been preparing for the Goa'uld attack they'd thought they would only have to spend a year or two underground – just until the atmosphere stabilized – in the bunker not the nine years they had spent here. Thus, it was understandable that they were running out of just about everything and that as such routine maintenance was getting increasingly delayed.
He put the thoughts of the increasingly decrepit state of the bunker out of his mind as he arrived in the main situation room. To find General Pemblake standing at the main situation table which was showing a group of some kind of vehicles – each with a single rider in some type of advanced looking armour – floating and streaking across the frozen surface of the planet.
"What is it general," he asked as he arrived at the table.
"Mister President our surface sensors picked up activity from the Stargate a few minutes ago," Pemblake replied, even as he nodded politely at his presence. They had long since stopped with all the saluting routine and indeed only used titles and ranks when the situation really called for it. "These figures and their vehicles emerged from it. Two of them have remained in a rear-guard position at the Stargate the rest of them set off across the ruins."
"Interesting," Stebran commented as he approached the holo-table and took a closer look at the aliens. What little sensor data they had on them was displayed in a side window. It wasn't much beyond the fact that the bikes were some kind of armoured hovercraft and that whatever was powering them didn't match anything in their database. The scan also showed that the riders were human. "Where are they heading?"
"Right here."
"Here! Why? And how would they even know that we were here?"
"I can only conclude that the drone picked up something that has given us away. It might even be related to the collapse a month ago. While we repaired, as much as possible, the breach in the stealth panelling it's possible that some heat or other form of energy might be escaping. Escaping enough for the drone sent through as a probe to pick up and locate."
"Logical," Stebran commented even as he grimaced at the reminder of the incident in question. One of the covers on the secondary ventilation shafts had suddenly and catastrophically failed letting in an avalanche of snow, ice and other debris. The sudden influx damaged the walls of the shaft quite badly especially the sensor baffle panels that had concealed the bunker from detection both during and after the Goa'uld attack when Ba'al's Jaffa had swarmed over the surface looking for any survivors to take as slaves and any surviving advanced technology to take back to their master. They did of course repair the damaged shaft...
...but obviously not well enough.
"Do you think they pose a threat," he asked at last.
"I hope not," Pemblake admitted with a slight grimace. Stebran could understand why, they had very few soldiers left – many had been lost on the surface scavenging for supplies or hunting the planets few surviving large animals to supplement their food stocks before the snow and ice really took hold – and most of their weapons didn't work anymore. "We only have at most a dozen operational ion rifles and no rockets or grenades left. That won't help repel any sort of attack."
Stebran scowled. It was one thing to know how weak their position here was now, that really all that stood between the six hundred soldiers, government officials and their families here in the bunker and anyone who would wish them harm were a few weapons and the bases secrecy, it was quite another to hear it. "Well let's hope they're not hostile and are merely curious about an anomalous energy signature," he commented, "how long until they arrive?"
"At their current speed and if nothing distracts them fifteen minutes."
"Not a lot of time. Alright then general begin preparing a welcoming party. We will greet these people as prospective friends."
"Yes sir."
As Pemblake left to begin making the arrangements Stebran looked back at the hologram and the riders who were now passing over the frozen forty-kilometre-wide expanse that was once the Altebrana Shipping Canal that had connected the capital's docks to the ocean several thousand kilometres to the south-east. They were moving at a fair old clip, clearly the engines on those hoverbikes were both extremely powerful and extremely efficient at what they did. As he watched them, he couldn't help but get the strangest feeling that these people were going to change everything for the survivors of Calora.
Whether that change would be for good or ill he couldn't say. He could only hope that time would – as it had many times before throughout history – would tell.
A Few Minutes Later
Colonel Ferretti couldn't help but feel like they were being watched as he continued guiding his Cheetah across this deep-frozen world towards the Ancient energy signature the Condor had detected. Even before they had left the remains of the city behind, he had had this feeling, this sensation in the back of his head, that they were in some way being watched. He did not see or understand how it was possible as none of their sensors had picked up anything, no signs of electronics and no sign of any people. Yet the feeling had been there nevertheless, and it was enough to put him on his guard.
Which was why he was periodically having the other commandoes in his squad check their instruments, as well as give everything they saw a thorough scan with the good old mark one eyeball, looking for anything at all that could be making him feel so uneasy. From the lack of protests from the others he knew that every one of them – being the veteran special forces soldiers they all were even before they'd joined the STORM commandoes and gotten a few cool perks out of it such as classified gene mods, that among other things made all of them as strong as a bull, not to mention got to use the latest equipment and weaponry – was feeling the same as he was. That they were all being watched by someone, someone who wasn't a ghost or the AI in the Condor drone that was continuing to perform its programmed search and mapping duties, its scans easily piercing the layers of compacted snow and ice to reveal the original surface of this world.
A light suddenly flashing on his HUD caught his attention, it was the Cheetah's computers way of tapping him on the shoulder to let him know it had found something, and a flick of one of his cheeks touching the controls lining the inside of his helmet brought up a data feed. Sensors were picking up a very faint thermal signature ahead, a signature that was coming from what looked to be the concealed top and an equally concealed ventilation shaft.
"Heads up everyone," he said into his squad command frequency. "Sensors are picking up a faint thermal signature up ahead. Looks like it's coming from some type of ventilation shaft."
"We see it too Colonel," Lieutenant Hastings responded immediately. "Think there could be a bunker or something in the hills up ahead?"
"I don't know it's possible," Ferretti replied, "be on your guard everyone. While there might not be survivors hiding underground near here it is also possible that there are. I want nobody to be taken by surprise."
"Sir what do we do if we do encounter any survivors?" Hastings asked.
"If they're friendly we'll talk to them and see what happens from there lieutenant. However, if they're not friendly – if they follow the Vallartan example – then we will introduce them to the business end of robotech weaponry while we fall back to the Stargate. We won't stand and fight especially as we don't have a Zentraedi cruiser in orbit to watch our backs this time."
"Sir yes sir," the other commandoes acknowledged.
Satisfied that everyone would be fully on their guard now, especially given that there could be a bunker complex of some kind hidden in the hills – foothills for the mountain range that dominated the view ahead – they were rapidly entering, Ferretti continued guiding his Cheetah towards the triangulated location of the energy signature. Soon they passed over what had to have once been a road or railway bridge across a deep narrow sided valley. The road or rail deck had long since vanished beneath several feet of snow and ice but the perfectly straight way it crossed over the valley – which dropped away sharply on two sides and descended to a river that was steadily transforming into a glacier – gave away what it had once been.
When they reached the other side, they found the ground on either side rose sharply and was covered with snow encrusted trees leaving only a relatively narrow path that was probably an old roadway. They turned around a blind curve in the road and found themselves face to face with three individuals standing outside a tunnel leading into the side of the hill. All three were clearly human and dressed in some kind of cold weather gear, that looked like it had seen better days. Two were armed with rifles though the sensors on Ferretti's Tristan armour confirmed that, while they were energy rifles, neither was functional.
Still deciding not to be provocative Ferretti brought his Cheetah to a halt and climbed off. Behind him he saw on his HUD the other STORM commandoes did the same, though none of them went for any of their weapons.
For a tense few seconds nothing more happened, then the man in the middle stepped forward holding his hands out in the universal gesture to show he meant no harm. "Greetings strangers," he said in an accent that reminded Ferretti of an odd mix of German and Dutch. "I mean you no harm I ask you mean no harm in return."
"We won't harm you," Ferretti replied, deliberately turning his helmets voice modulator off so his natural voice could be heard. "As long as you don't harm us. Who are you?"
"I believe I should be asking you that question stranger. This is, or was given its now an ice cube, my planet. Tell me who you are, and I'll tell you who I am."
"Fair enough. I am Colonel Luis Ferretti, of the Special Tactical Operations and Reconnaissance Marine Commandoes of the United Earth Defence Forces," Ferretti answered, "this is my team. Now tell me who are you?"
"Greetings Colonel Ferretti," the man answered, "My name is Colonel Rystal Karenic of the Caloran Defence Force. It has been a very, very long time since we had visitors. Not really since the Goa'uld attacked our world, would you mind coming with me? My superior General Pemblake and President Jowmart are eager to meet with you."
Ferretti considered for a few moments. "I will accompany you," he said at last, "so will two of my men. The rest will remain here. I expect to be allowed to contact them regularly or they will come in after me."
"Fair enough though there will be no need for violence," Karenic replied looking at the alien soldier, and his very functional but advanced and intimidating as hell armour, up and down. He certainly wouldn't want to get into a fight with this guy as he looked big and strong, and he had the feeling that the armour was powered as well. Not that they really could fight with these aliens or whatever they were. They had few working weapons, certainly nothing capable of penetrating a suite of powered armour. "Please choose who you want to accompany you and we'll go inside."
Ferretti nodded and switched to the squad command frequency. "Hastings, Rogers you're with me," he said, "the rest of you keep on your guard as I don't trust these people yet. If you haven't heard from me in thirty minutes, come in after us."
"Sir yes sir," the other STORM commandoes acknowledged as the two indicated commandoes came forward and joined him, unlike him both were carrying their laser rifles. Ferretti turned to speak to Colonel Karenic again.
"Lead on please," he said.
"This way," Karenic answered, noting that the other two aliens had powerful looking rifles. He considered demanding that they surrender them, though he had no way of truly enforcing such a demand but decided against it for now. Besides he got the impression that trying to take the guns by force – even if the two privates ion rifles had been working and not no longer holding charge – would only result in himself and the two privates with him getting killed. Instead, he turned and began leading the way inside. Ferretti followed the other man, Hastings and Rogers bringing up the rear, heading for the interior of the bunker and a meeting with these General Pemblake and President Jowmart.
Ascended Planes
Standing before his own viewing font in the privacy of a mock-up of his old quarters in Atlantis Janus smiled as he watched Colonel Ferretti and two of his men follow the Caloran into the bunker. It had taken quite a bit of very careful, very subtle nudging on his part – something that was especially difficult right now given that the conservative members of The Others were watching himself, Zor, Oma and Ganos like hawks – to set this meeting in motion. A meeting that though neither Terran nor Caloran knew it yet would set both races on a path to a better future, if everything worked out right of course, for everyone.
"And so it begins," he said in a tone that mimicked the Vorlon Kosh from that highly amusing – in the way that while the science was crap though the story was pretty good – Terran show science fiction show Babylon 5. His smile turned into a roguish grin as he made himself comfortable to wait, watch and see what happened especially when they discovered what was in the oldest part of the bunker complex, the one part that the Calorans had never built.
This was going to be fun.
Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust I hope you all enjoyed it, especially with the beginning of one of the biggest and most overarching arcs in the entire fic on Calora. What is Janus up to, what path and plan has he laid? All will be revealed in due time, as will be what the Artefact that Calorans have been researching for centuries is. If anyone is curious about the Caloran names I used the random human name generator for SW KOTOR to come up with the names, thinks It makes them sound sufficiently different from Terran names while still sounding like a human name.