GateWar Interludes
“Gunner reports Tally-ho sir!”
Sanguinius nodded, his armour whirring around him, unnaturally loud in the harsh confines of the hastily converted cargo pod that was their transport for this operation.
“How many contacts?” his voice was gruff, rasping, but still, it reeked of command, of the expectation that he would be obeyed.
“Six Ha'taks sir, I'm not sure how long the flyboys can hold them off”
“Then we had best complete our mission… and fast”
“Aye Commander, I'll tell the men to make one last check of their systems”
Sanguinius nodded, knowing such an order was useless, his men would already been checking their armour, their weapons, they were good like that. But then, he had picked them.
“You do that,”
“Sir,” saluting, Scout Tycho turned, making his way past the armoured form that filled the bulk of this particular pod and heading for the airlock to the troop pod.
Sanguinius meanwhile was left with his thoughts, which were of battle…
And of Blood.
“Shit, six tangos? You know, when I volunteered, I didn't think we would have to deal with this much shit and still be expected to go”
Jig Nelson snorted, his hands flying across his command console without pause as he responded to his Nav officers comments, “what, did you really think Sanguinius would allow us to turn back once we had made it this far?”
“Perhaps not,” Petty Officer Brunt replied sarcastically, “bastard would fire upon us if he thought we would flee”
“That's why I made damn sure none of his boys got near our crates…”
“Fuck…” Brunt shook his head, “I was half joking, but you really…?”
“Yes,”
“Fuck”
“Enlightening as this conversation is,” Chief Petty Officer Fleetman inserted, her Southern drawl filling the tight confines of the bridge of the small warship, “we're about to come under fire, might I suggest you hold it for another time?”
“Aye Captain,” Nelson snorted sarkily, enjoying the eye roll his second sent him, “now, what say we open fire?”
“Too late…” Fleetman shot back, “or were you too busy nattering to notice we have been firing for the last ten?”
“Smartarse,” he muttered, under his breathe.
The Tac officer still heard it though, laughing she replied, “and don't you forget it”
“Where's the Sir Lancelot ?” Nelson asked; all business now that the enemy was in range to fire back.
“Last transmission indicated they had successfully breeched the atmosphere on the southern hemisphere and were making their way up to the northern… according to their revised ETA those Ha'taks will be able to pick her up in six-five seconds”
“Then we had better keep those bastards distracted,” Nelson grinned, sharkily.
“I think we've succeeded,” Fleetman frowned, “we got all six tangos moving to engage… they aren't leaving anyone to guard the planet itself”
“You think perhaps they want us dead?” Brunt commented, grunting as he forced the MGB into a tight spiral, his display showing a stream of weapons fire flashing through the space the small ship had just occupied.
“they can do it too if the CO doesn't get a bit more aggressive,” Fleetman noted, “we're trying to keep six Ha'taks distracted with just six MTBs and four F-302's and the bastard has us defensive, we should be concentrating fire”
“I'm sure Guardian knows what he's doing,” Nelson frowned as his command rocked under the force of a very near miss, “I hope”
“Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly,” Grissom grinned, manically, evilly, as he watched the icons of the Goa'uld warships of Anubis on his display, each of them behaving exactly as he had predicted… exactly as he wanted.
“Sir, I have a solid data-link to the fighters, they report missiles and drives hot,”
“You know at some point Anubis is going to start equipping his ships with jump-interdiction systems,” Grissom commented, somewhat reflectively, “but until then we'll just continue to make a killing… JUMP!”
“Jump aye… Gnat one has jumped… Gnat two… Gnat Three… Gnat four... shit! We lost them”
“What?” Startled, angry, Grissom shot upwards in his seat, “report!”
“Not sure… may have been a CIWS battery, we'll have to leave it to technical to reconstruct and confirm however. Three successful jumps… Tangos Five and two are damaged… tango six…”
The MTB rocked, sharply, abruptly, the inertial compensators whining in loud complaint.
“Tango Six lost containment…”
“No shit,” Grissom commented dryly, his displays confirming exactly where that little shockwave had come from, “okay, that's plan A killed… I want concentrated fire procedures, SOP, who's weakest?”
“Tango Five… looks like it got hit by a Gnat and got caught in the shockwave too”
Grissom grunted as the icon of five began blinking on his display, “shielded behind those other bruisers though… signal and microjump and transmit appropriate co-ordinates. Signal all MTBs to ready tubes, Gunner and Artillery to be ready with suppressive fire”
“Aye Captain,”
“Suppressive fire,” Nelson commented, amused, “I think perhaps we can manage that”
“Receiving microjump co-ordinates…” Brunt frowned, “got ‘em. I hope those bastards don't change course, because if they do, we may be in for some trouble”
Snorting, Nelson nodded, “always the way, okay, bring hyperdrives to full readiness and rig for microjump”
“Contact!” Fleetman announced, “ Sir Lancelot now registering on scope”
“Have they initiated drop yet?”
“Negative,”
“Then we continue to fight,” Nelson nodded, “Brunt, we jump on your mark”
“Five minutes to target,”
The crackly voice sounding over his helmet comm roused Sanguinius from his thoughts, sending him swiftly moving though the small clear corridors to the troop pod, his eye roving, making one last inspection of their equipment as he readied himself for what would be the first Hot-drop his small cadre of Marines would complete, but hopefully not the last.
All their previous missions had been though the gate, or involved them being dropped miles away from the target, this time they would be dropped into their target, right into the enemies laps.
Sanguinius grinned, malevolently, ‘it should be glorious' he thought to himself as he strapped himself into his seat.
“ Fire!” Grissom rose swiftly from his seat, slammed into an abrupt stop by the strong fabric of his restraints.
His shout was wholly unnecessary, he had given his orders, his people knew what to do, and they had done it.
Tango fire was already under heavy fire, gauss rifle rounds splattering off its rapidly eroding shields but Grissom was quick to notice that not one of the four torpedoes the MTBs had fired had made it too their targets, all three had been intercepted.
This was new, and very definitely unwanted.
Anubis had learnt, adapted to their attacks and if he was starting to do that, then he had just become a far more dangerous opponent indeed.
Not that it was enough to save Tango Five, that Ha'tak was already history. Noting the damage indicators which placed the ship very definitely out of the fight, he ordered fire shifted to the next easy kill, Tango Two.
“Shit,” Brunt gasped, flinched as sparks flashed into being just inches from his face. Gingerly, he abandoned his post, carefully dodging past the wildly swinging live cable that had dropped mere inches from his face, hoping to reach the cutoff for the relevant panel before the loose cable really caused someone a mischief.
He just hoped it wasn't something too important either, these boats didn't have that much in the way of back-ups and secondary systems. Indeed, several systems had no back-up at all.
“Report!” Nelson barked, his voice sounding loud, clear and confident over the arching electricity and the scattered alarms.
“Helm control is down,” Brunt gasped, shaking his hand, as it involuntarily clenched around the fuse he had just pulled, “least till I tie away these swinging cables”
“Weapons… we lost a pulse turret, shields are down but regenerating,” Fleetman nodded sharply, glancing up from her console, “we should have shields back in three minutes”
“Three minutes in a combat situation when we're massively outgunned?” Nelson shook his head, “that's far too long, tell engineering to override controls and microjump us out of the battle area”
“Aye Captain”
Sanguinius smiled evilly, he could hear the engines groaning now, strained beyond their usual capabilities, being asked to land the heavy mass of the freighter and its load on a planetary surface.
The first two Merchants, the Liberty and the Merchant herself could not do that with cargo loaded, but the pace of technology was fast and the Sir Lancelot had improved drives and inertial controls. She could land on a planets surface, just not with a full load-out, that was the only reason this desperate mission could take place.
Sanguinius hoped the freighter and its crew would be ale to get away safely, but he rather doubted it. Still, they had known the risks when they volunteered for this job.
“LZ is hot, I confirm LZ is hot, all units prepare to deploy”
Lets see, two seconds to clear his restraints, twenty to run a diagnostic on his suit and check his attached equipment, just to make sure nothing had gotten shaken lose during the landing, then say thirty seconds to make his way to and through the airlocks. One minute after landing he should be able to engage the enemy, and show them the error of their ways.
Perfect.
“Dammit,” Grisson cursed, his eyes hard s he watched the icon representing Gunner reappear at the very edge of the solar system, joined swiftly by Defender, “ that's two down”
“Signal from the Sir Lancelot, deploying gatecrasher teams now”
“That's a start,” Grissom grimaced, “but we still got three Ha'taks to deal with, we‘re down to four birds and our torpedoes are useless”
“Captain, Tango one is breaking off for the planet”
“Oh, hell no” Grissom snarled, “we need to intercept that bastard, and quick”
“Kill them! Kill them all!” Sanguinius shouted, his voice distorted and loud over his suits loudspeaker, his shouted words making the Jaffa warriors glance at each other warily, then redouble their fire.
They had orders just to hold the gate open, prevent the Tau'ri escaping their devastated world through the stargate, they hadn't been told to expect an attack from the Tau'ri, their God had assured them it would be impossible.
Yet, here they were, and not just any Tau'ri but the Tau'ri elite, the Gatecrasher teams who appeared rarely, but when they did, they massacred anyone who got in their way.
More then a few of the Jaffa were tempted to flee into the surrounding forests, ecape the wrath of these gatecrashers, but no, there God had given them orders. Besides, they outnumbered the Tau'ri at least twenty to one, the gatecrashers were good, they knew that much, but surely they were not that good?
A clattering, whining whir got their attention, but they ignored it, they didn't know what it was, they believed they had no reason to fear it.
It was understandable; no Jaffa had ever returned to their gods after facing Gattling guns, indeed, few had survived at all.
Like all Jaffa before them, they were stunned in momentary paralysis as in an instant; a roaring engulfed the clearing, forty of their number being tossed in an eyeblink to the ground, shattered, torn, no longer recognisable.
It didn't take a genius though to figure out where their death had come from, and to recognise a real threat and to concentrate there fire upon the lone gatecrasher who had fired with such devastating effect.
To their shock and dismay, it wasn't a gatecrasher.
A roaring filled the clearing once more, twenty more Jaffa falling as the suddenly fearful Jaffa concentrated their fire on the shape of the lone tank that had entered into the engagement, a modified Warrior tank, its normal armaments replaced with the spinning, spitting form of the gattling gun that was wrecking such havoc amongst the Jaffa.
Bolts of energy began flashing around the warrior, churning up the ground around the small tank, then chewing into its armour, tearing away aerials, tracks, slowly shredding the defiantly firing form to shreds. It took them just three minutes to put the tank down, but that was three minutes too many.
That was three minutes in which the Gatecrasher teams could fire freely, not having to worry about return fire from the bulk of the Jaffa, three minutes in which the distracted Jaffa were caught in a deadly crossfire.
Still, the Jaffa held, though dismayed they did not break, the survivors turning their staffs swiftly onto the Tau'ri heavy formation, tearing a terminator down with a lucky shot directly to the armours headpiece, then a trio of power armoured figures.
It was a battle that looked destined to be an expensive victory for the Jaffa, two hundred of their number having fallen so far to merely one tank and twenty five soldiers, but then, another player made itself known.
The Sir Lancelot.
Like all Merchant class ships, she was equipped with a number of pulse laser batteries for defence against fighters and other small warcraft. As the freighter began its lift off, frantically beginning its race to safety, its enterprising Captain ordered those batteries that could be brought to bear turned upon the Jaffa.
The weapons, designed to track far faster moving targets had no difficulties locking onto the smaller, but far slower Jaffa warriors and began sequenced firing, their searing energies turning everything they contacted into so much burning flesh.
Unnerved by this latest attack, the Jaffa of Anubis attempted to turn their weapons on the Sir Lancelot, but whilst the freighter did not have military grade shields, the ones she had were more then up to the task of turning aside even the massed fire of the Jaffa warriors.
Shattered and demoralised, the Jaffa began to break.
Swiftly capitalising on the now disorganised formation, the remnants of the two Power armoured Gatecrasher teams and the single Terminator squad made their way towards the stargate and swiftly disconnected the gate.
“Wormhole has disengaged!”
Startled, Siler/Selmac dived towards the gate controls, and then swiftly thumbed the heavy solid steel shield up, revealing the soot covered form of the now inactive stargate.
“They're early,” Siler whispered, “dial out to the Alpha Site, now!”
“Aye Sir,” Hammond replied, her voice saying all to clearly that like every other attempt, she didn't expect this one to be successful, “chevron one encoded… chevron two encoded…. Chevron three encoded…. Chevron four encoded…”
Hope began to enter her voice now; they had so far managed to dial in before chevron four every single time, blocking their out going connection, perhaps they would make it this time? She didn't dare breathe that thought out loud.
“Chevron five encoded… chevron six encoded... chevron seven….”
She paused, shocked beyond belief, “locked”
Both glanced up as with a kawhoosh of released energies, the stargate opened once more.
“Signal the Alpha site, send our IDC,” Siler quietly said, his tone almost grateful, “and request assistance. We still have much of the mountain to retake”
“Signal from Sanguinius sir,” Grissom glanced across, eager to hear what had gone wrong this time… not, “its phoenix sir”
Phoenix, they had the Stargate.
Thank you Sanguinius.
Still, that left them with just five minor warships to keep the three surviving Ha'taks away from this world.
“Sir, I've signalled the survivors of the 7 th Starfighter Wing, if they dump their buddy stores and Sanguinius dials out to the Land of the Light, we could get some warshots shipped in for them”
“Good Initiative,” Grissom smiled, “let's just hope we can hold the Goa'uld off long enough for them to reload”
“ Keerist! We just lost Keeper; they bracketed her, she's gone. No signs of survivors”
Grissom signed, weariness lining his eyes, “maintain concentrated fire on Tango One”
“Boss,” Fleetman sighed, glancing up from her console, “I'm locking out Pulse three, she's unstable”
“Damnit,” Nelson cursed, “right now we need everything running and more besides”
“It was only a hasty repair,” Fleetman shrugged, “I'm surprised it held this long”
“We're losing,” Nelson grimly admitted, “down to four combat capable birds, getting low on ammo… we're losing”
Silence filled the bridge, disturbed only by the beeping of the consoles and the occasionally piercing wail of an inbound fire alarm.
Nelson frowned suddenly, and then smiled. It was a smile that could be best described as evil, malicious with just a touch of devilry.
“Rig ship for pilot recovery operations, and tell the fighter boys never mind reloads, I need volunteers…”
“He's insane, he fucking insane,” Grissom commented, then smiled, “when I grow up, I wanna be just like him…”
There was muffled snorts and laughter from the crew as Grissom shook his head, “okay, pass the plan on, and redouble our fire, we need to keep these bastards distracted”
It is the greatest fear of anyone who works in space to become a Dutchman, to be floating away from your ship or base and risk being lost forever. The concept of deliberately pushing yourself away from the safety of your craft was anathema to many, in space; there were far quicker and easier ways to die.
Which is perhaps why the Jaffa didn't react when three F-302 pilots rigged there jump drives, then, just as the craft was about to enter hyper, ejected from their warbirds.
Jumping into the gap between a ship and it shields is a trick the Tau'ri had, over the years, earned themselves a name for, it was dangerous and deadly both to the target and to the insane bastard who was actually willing to try it. If the enemy ship made just one unanticipated movement, you could reform within their hull. The effects of course would be devastating to the enemy ship, you would complete your mission of destruction but it was a cert that you would not live to tell the tale, hence why only the best pilots were allowed to attempt such a manoeuvre…
But, just suppose you want to deliberately jump into the ship, destroying both your fighter and the enemy warship. And just suppose you had the means to leave your craft right before that final, fatal leap?
Why, then all that would be left would be the long lonely wait for somebody to come and pick you up.
And a very interesting report afterwards, of course.