NationStates Jolt Archive

A Goa’uld Ha’tak on the edge of the Sol system

Kelmet, a goa’uld overseer in the glorious employ of Lord Atum, sat on his bejewelled throne in the command deck of the mighty and powerful mother ship, an entire month away from the domains of Atum. “What,” he said, pointing at the glowing display screen covering the window of the command deck, “Is that?” A jaffa warrior dressed in the burnished red armour of an elite company turned from the controls of this far-ranging scout ship, and looked at his superior, confused.

“My Lord!” he said, “It is an object made of ice, rock, and trace organic elements approximately nine hundred and sixty kilometres across.”

“Scan it for life signs!” the goa’uld commanded.

With a slight shrug of his shoulders, the jaffa operator manipulated the device’s controls, “There are none my Lord,” he replied.

“Excellent! Prepare to lay claim in the name of Atum!” he commanded.

“But my Lord…” the underling asked, “such a body is useless. There is no naquadah, and other materials would be more trouble than they’re worth in extracting.”

“Do you question my wisdom?” Kelmet demanded, seeming to be offended by the insolence, his eyes flashed phosphorescently.

The jaffa swallowed audibly, “No, of course not Lord.”

“Then prepare for landing!”

“Very well my Lord. May I ask what, in your wisdom, you plan to use this object for?”

“You may ask,” Kelmet answered.

“My Lord, in your great wisdom, what do you plan to use this object for?”

“We shall use it to launch glider raids against Atum’s enemies in this system!”

“But my lord, it would take around twelve hours to reach the inner system from here by glider.”

“The fighter pilots of Atum will endure the discomfort in order to serve their god.”

“But my Lord, gliders only carry a twelve hour air supply!”

“And?” Kelmet said, leaning back and assuming an expression of infinite smugness, “Do you take me for a fool? They can refresh such supplies on the Tau’ri!”

“Ah,” the jaffa replied, “Of course, your wisdom is truly glorious my Lord. I shall prepare the landing parties.”

Months passed after Kelmet’s establishment of the base, using tunnelling technology looted from the Tok’ra anti-goa’uld resistance, a terrorist group Lord Atum had still yet to crush, another vessel arrived, this time merely an Al’kesh mid-range bomber. In its cargo bay it carried a ring of naquadah, a stargate, the improvement to Kelmet’s original plan that had been made by his distant master.

Once the gate, on the fringe of different coordinates set from the Earth, was established, troops, provisions, death gliders and tunnelling gear flowed through from Mnewer, its gate moved to the open by specially engineered lifts for the occasion. The Fourth Army of Lord Atum was to be the garrison and pilots of this outpost were some of the most highly trained jaffa in existence, though not quite a match for the fearsome Palace Guard, the Fourth Hawks were dressed in gold red and blue armour, and their morale was high, they knew their mission well, and were confident of its success.

It took four days and four nights continuous operation to bring everything, hundreds of thousands of crates of provisions and recycling systems, hundreds of gliders, tens of thousands of soldiers, through the stargate. They worked tirelessly to expand the fortress, building hangers and launch areas for the space ships, countless living, training and sleeping quarters for the troops, and installing endless life support system.

More weeks passed and they were at last ready. Brought from his previous humiliating assignment, a goa’uld named Apophis, once an independent System Lord, was assigned to lead the first attack. Unlike Kelmet, Apophis knew that the time experienced by the pilots would be under two hours, so they could adjust their course several times during their flight to conceal their point of origin.

While he resented and despised Atum without end, Apophis was wise enough to know the advantages of biding his time. One by one, the first attack group of a hundred Death Gliders were released, forming up into a wide formation, with four gliders at the front, in lines, leading to one at the rear. As one, they sped off towards their target, the formerly peaceful nation of Giltheran.

Above Giltheran the Spelljammer fleet continued it's near ceaseless vigil, endless patrols circled the planet seeking out the smallest threat. Since the last attack by the forces of Atum the nation was far more viglent for a space bound threat. Still now patrol was perfect. For this reason for more atmosphere based flights had been organised. It was rare now for even the most distant part of the three Islands not to see an Eagle patrol at least once a day.

For most it had become just day to day life, many had begun to let the events of those long gone days fade into the past. Although anger still burnt at the fate of the lost, it was an unfocused anger many believed that events could not, would not repeated. They would soon be proved wrong.

Of course, on earth there was a lot of traffic daily, and the Death Glider, so far, wasn’t an easily recognised design. Easing cramps in his legs by moving them rhythmically, Apophis began snapping instructions to his group, divided into four twenty-five glider wings, passing off control to his copilot. “All wings are to cut power, and drift in for three minutes, then restore power and pull up sharply. If you are noticed, restore power and break wide, we are not here to destroy ships.”

The death gliders stopped their deceleration, and went dark as the power systems were disabled, hoping to blend in with the vast amounts of debris and waste orbiting the Earth.

Simply put it worked. The spelljammer captains where not of course infallible they had a lot of space to watch and no matter how alert on paper they had gotten things had become routine for them. The Gliders would get past them and into the atmosphere, from that point things might change, the pinpricks of light as they began 're-entry' would draw attention to them. The Watchers would notice then the defence would begin. But the entry was achieved and nothing was going to prevent some damage occurying.

Of course even napping Giltheran was not defensless. High Mages always stayed at the Tower of Light ready to bring the power of the accumulator to bare in defence of the Island and other forces stood ready but that was for later. For now unknown to the peaceful inhabitents of the Isles of Giltheran death was coming once more.

Like a flock of birds accompanied by sonic booms, the massive squadron began moving around, circling and approaching, their acceleration high indeed by the standards of aircraft, the island. They were ordered to ignore the coast, where Apophis suspected the defences would be concentrated, and head inland, to the southern part of the islands.

By now the attackers had been noticed, it wasn't exactly hard to spot the Gliders heading inland, and the alarm was spreading. Since the last attack a new procedure had been placed into effect. Simply put every citizen of Giltheran was informed of the simplest order in event of spotting an unidentified aggresor to report it to the nearest, Temple, Shrine, Grove or Tower. From there a sending would be forwarded to the nearest Military base, and to the City of Souls.

There the reports would be gathered and the matter addressed. Of course even the quickness of a sending had a few issues, for a start many of the people recieving these messages became flooded with the same warning, as although the senders only sent the single message no matter how many warnings they recieved the simple fact is these invading craft moved quickly and passed many heads. They also passed over several different Glades, Groves and Towers. Meaning that many seperate sendings where sent. Still the chaos did not last long and the defences quickly sprang into place.

First came a new wave of Sendings, this time addressed to every mage, Cleric, Druid, and Aerial forces operative seconded to the Military. The order was simple 'Report in' across the Island High Mages dropped what they where doing, in city streets, in Bars, and in a few cases in bed. Gathered their belongings and muttered a spell under their breath. In the flickering of an eye these High Mages where gone, arriving at scattered Towers across the Isles. Many arriving at the Tower of Light. To take their places in the Circle quickly forming there. Lesser Mages followed suit, those that could cast Teleportation spells quickly arrived at their duty stations, others raced to the nearest military outpost.

Flights of Pegasus, Eagles, and Griffons took to the air for now few of them knew exactly where the threat was, it didn't matter. They had been scrambled. In Orbit and on the surface, the crews of the Spelljammer fleet was readied themselves, checking one final time the weapon systems, the spells and the enchantments. Then it was time, the spelljammers quickly entered the atmosphere from Orbit, racing to do battle with the enemy

Still despite all this the first weapon to be raised in the defence of the Isles, was not any of these things. It was the Accumulator. It's range allowed it's magics to reach all over the Isles, just about. The High mage on Duty first cast a simple scrying to look upon the foe invading his isles, and nodded. Space craft, they should count for the second power of the Accumulator, although such a suspicion had never been tested. Time he guessed to do so. Selecting one of the craft at random his mind reached out through the accumulator to touch it, to feel it. For a second nothing happened then the magic took effect. this was the least offensive defence at their disposal. It did not kill, it did not even damage the craft. It simply removed it from the Isles of Giltheran and deposited it Elsewhere on earth. He had no control of where it ended up, it simply would no longer be available to attack Giltheran. Other than that he did not particuarly care, it was enough that it was gone.

Even as he finished with that effect he reached out again, another random craft was picked, again it did not at this point matter which. This time the Teleportation was recharging, he could not use it for a little while longer, another Thirty-Forty seconds he estimated. It did not really matter he had two more effects to play with. For a second he paused then smiled. He had two powers to play with, better to make the second look a part of the first. The first was the ability to weave an illusion of almost solid reality. It could be disbelieved, and it could not do real damage, but as long as a person believed it was damaging them they would react as through it was.

His illusion was simple, a terrible beast of legends seemed to rear it's head in the skys above Giltheran taking flight to threaten the invaders, a long sinuous eck, huge wings and a thick body. In short a Dragon. It's head pulled back a moment turned to look at the craft the Mage had selected, and then the head shot forward, it's mouth opening and from it emerged a lightening Bolt....

The lightening Bolt however unlike the Dragon was no illusion it was real, and terrible in it's power, far more powerful than the effects usually created by nature, it was the Third power of the Accumulator, simply appearing to emenate from the 'Dragon'. With a chuckle under his breath he ordered the illusion to attack and waited for the effects he had generated to come recharge. If all went to plan it would be harder for the interlopers to disbelieve something that had had such a obvious physical effect.

The jaffa warriors were to a man fooled by the illusion. It wasn’t that they were stupid, or that they were unfamiliar with the concept of deceptive illusions. It was instead that they had never experienced such a scale of illusion before. The lightning bolt that smashed into one of the lead gliders, breaking it apart and sending its flaming remains tumbling towards the treetops below was simply icing on the cake.

The gliders broke formation at once, parting and circling the illusion, lashing out with their staff cannons against the great beast. Worse, some of the gliders on the southern fringe of the formation simply disappeared. Some reappearing over ocean or worse, over other nations, disoriented and confused, they mostly headed back to base, with some being downed by anti-aircraft fire, and others being captured by superior forces, in one case Menelmacar.

More fired, and the illusion fought back with lightning, and more Death Gliders fell from the skies in balls of flame. Over time, however, they realised their mistake, despite the illusion seeming affected normally, their weapons fire passed though it. The gliders broke off, after cajoling from their leader, and headed further inland, still being assaulted by the lightning from behind them.

Although the Accumulator had the energy to continue it's assualt until all the invaders where destroyed, or teleported away, soon the attacks stop. The accumulator stores spare magical energy, it is in theory a free source of energy. Yet it has limits, in many ways it's like a battery. Drawing from it lowered the amount stored. While the attacks launched had been small drains, and could be easily replaced, the Accumulator had other commitments. A Full time Illusionly community was being maintained on the coast, an entire false City, with a false population going about seemingly day to day busisness. A Community you could enter, walk down the streets interact with the 'people' there.

It all took power, this was seemingly a simple raid, wasting power on defeating the raid would remove it for the next day. Eventually if enough attacks occured they might run out of energy, all that was being done right now was delaying the raiders, buying time for the defenders to organise. They had organised.

Mages had joined circles, collected Wands, and cast protective magics. It was time for the true defenders to go into battle, a few more scryings and they vanished, spell Circles allowing groups of five to ten Mages to teleport together. Seven Seperate Circles went in the first wave of defenders. Appearing in the airs around the invaders, spells of flight already active, spheres of force surronding them the seperate circles arrived in a space of seconds of each other. All had been in communication before hand, all had the same basic plan.

Arrival and they began casting, no commands where needed, they reacted on the agreed upon plan. As the mages finsihed the Air in front of them shimmered and seemed to seperate itself. When all had finished they pointed to the invading craft. Issuing the same command 'Destroy the Metal Flyers'

As the order was given the seperated air moved towards the foe, a alight shimmer the only clue at first, but then they seemed to change, the weather seemed to twist inside them, growing darker, stormier as they came ever closer to the targets, they became mini localised storms. The Mages had summoned Air Elementals to their defence. Creatures of the very air itself to deal with the air-borne threat... and they had only just begun.

Apophis found these floating humanoids, so surprised in fact, that he barely had the time to adjust his course to ram one of them out of the way. The mage’s defences weren’t quite proof against that, and he crumpled around the Death Glider’s wing, coughing blood as he was swept off the bronzed surface and fell down towards the forest canopy below. Thanks to sorcerous artefacts he wasn’t killed, fortunately, but it was hardly a trifling injury.

In a moment of strange premonition, the goa’uld commander pushed a button on the collar of his armoured flight suit, a hawk-headed golden helm snapping up into place. His co-pilot did likewise. This whim seemed to come not a moment too soon, as a mid-sized elemental collided with the craft, its powers tipping the vehicle into an insane spin.

He jerked a pistol like weapon from its holster, and pushed a button on the console, retracting the vehicle’s canopy. Firing the zat’nik’tel weapon at the creature on the wing again and again, he was pleased to see it, after several shots, ripple into nothingness. Unfortunately, the buffeting winds jerked the pistol from his grasp. Snarling, he jerked his hand back and fought to regain control of the craft as his co-pilot reverted to the task of gunner, loosing a bolt that bounced harmlessly from the magical defences of one of the mages.

Elsewhere in the formation, more formidable elementals downed craft, or wrenched their wings off, sending them spiralling to explode in fireballs far below. Sometimes the gliders won, destroying the elementals or tragically ending the lives of the Giltherani defenders, but more often they lost...

The Elementals had been but the start, although they where now taking losses the Mages simply pressed on, it fell to them, for all they knew this could be but the start. The last raid on Giltheran had cost them an entire community, they would not allow these invaders to press on. Now through they split into smaller group following their own plans, simply because the various mages had memorised different spells that day, or had differing skills. One small group for example where experts at twisting the nature of a spell, to change the 'element' it was created from. Normally such a skill was used to counter the abilitys of unnatural creatures to resist certain elements. Now through it was being used to turn Fireballs into Balls of Acid, or Balls of Energy.

The basic theory was that while a simple Fire-Ball might be too close to the energy weapons or resisted by craft obviously designed for re-entry, acid would eat away at anything. Other mages with differing skills tried different tactics, a core group of the most skilled joined together selecting individual targets and then targeting them with their most complicated, most powerful magics. From one mage a thin almost invisible beam came from his hands. Normally the magic was designed to disintergrate a person down to dust, against a Death-Glider it was unlikely to be as effective that was not the aim. The aim was to damage it enough to cause it to crash, to set something off within it.

From other mages came simple Magic Missiles aimed at cockpits and the piltos inside, the majourity if not all of them would not get past the cockpits. Still it was hoped the balls of energy would distract pilots, allowing for other attacks to be made.

Of all the differing groups of mages the most unusual attack was made from those who had learnt the various spells of creating hands. Each hand was easily the size of a man and was now being used to halt progress, to rip open enemy craft or to block the energy beams of the strange craft. All directed by the whim of the casters, they formed a strange deffensive line against the Gliders.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Apophis muttered to himself, “All wings,” he snapped, “Withdraw and return to base.”

Normally, cowardice was frowned upon in the armies of Lord Atum, but on this occasion, Apophis knew he could justify the retreat. The initial attack was perhaps a failure, but follow-ups would adjust their tactics to be more effective and lethal. As one, the sixty four remaining fighters pulled up and kicked their drives into maximum power, soon making a succession of sonic booms, intending to return home.

As for the glider that was disintegrated, the liquid naquadah of its power supplies, while not enhancing the arcane energy, was affected enough by the released heat to cook off spectacularly, reducing the vessel to a fireball twenty meters across as its entire energy supply was released at once, vaporising the fighter in a blinding flash. Sixty three fighters remained, with seven more being quickly torn apart along their structurally weakest point, the wings, sending the raiding jaffa inside plunging to their dooms far below, impact detonated weapons causing crimson fireballs in the forest below.

As the air thinned, Apophis restored his canopy, and, observing the sensor control on the vehicle’s control panel, despaired, as it appeared that the space forces of their enemies were ready for them. Some of the other pilots were forced to use the internal supplies of their helmets as acid corroded hulls and magic-missile scored canopies let out the precious air supplies.

They had slipped past them, for that most of the Captains of the Spelljammers where ashamed. Now it was time to make up for their lapse. It was unlikely they could stop everyone of the attackers from escaping but they where certainly going to make them pay.

ABoard the largest of the defending craft the Admiral sat calmly nodding to his Mages. Begin the attack the Alshartesh shall engage, supported by Light of hope Remind Captain Helmarstis that his orders are to keep them trapped between him and the planet below. Order the Fire of Night and her attendent vessels to move into position. When they are ready they are to come at the foe from 'above' (For now above and below in space where designated as the direction the 'Deck' of the Flagship faced)

Meanwhile I want Dawns Glory to close the underside remaining vessels to remain on station to deal with any that slip through the net.

(The named vessels (with the exception of the light) are 'Dragon' class Spelljammers the Largest (and most powerful) vessels. The others vary in size It should be noted that the DragonClass are also the slowest. Hence being sent in first, in any chase or rapid deployment they will be useless, unable to keep up. Hence keeping the faster vessels back on standby)

Already the named vessels moved forwards slowly gathering speed, huge strangely graceful ships, shaped remarkably like that of a beauterfly edging closer to the atmosphere of Earth. Crystal hulls shinging int he light of space. As they neared the first volleys where fired. It was strange almost impossible to comprehend but the missiles fired where 'Rocks' impossibly in the weightless enviroment of space catapults where being used, and for some strange reason the Rocks actually 'Fell'. (In actual fact the where enchanted to do so, or to be exact the magic that kept the Spelljammer in space also extended to the weapons and crews aboard passing on behaviour similar to that they would have if they where being used on a planets surface. Usually that of the Planet the Craft where last enchanted on, in the case of the Giltheran navy that meant of course Earth.)

The effectiveness of the spelljammers on the small gliders would not normally be much to speak of, as the gliders were nimble and agile enough to evade enemy fire in most cases, and fast enough to outrun most pursuit. Here though, accelerating in straight lines. Half a dozen or so gliders exploded in the first wave, broken apart by rocks and magical flak bursts. More followed, unable to evade effectively given their initial momentum, there was no way to avoid simply having to run the gauntlet of enemy fire as they tried to leave the benighted atmosphere behind them and get clear into open space where their performance was at its best. But for all that, their speed was great indeed.

For now everything was going according to the Admirals basic plan as he suspected the raiders would soon be past the Dragon-Class Spelljammers. It wasn't too importent, they where only the first line, with a nod the next sendings where quickly made.

'Move the next wing forward to grid referance 6.7.8 Try and cut off this group here.' As he spoke smaller Spelljammers moved towards the foe. Still it was increasingly obvious some would escape... yet this held promise in itself. It was possible this would not be the last such attack. With time on his side and money they might be able to use the next such rair to their own advantage.

'Get me a Mage one who is out of spells I need to discuss some ideas with him.' The battle would rage on, by nowmost of his commands where sent, he trusted in his captains to use their inititive, but they would slip away. Once they made it to space, now was time to discuss the future.