Robotech: The Stargate Saga (Robotech/Stargate AU Fusion)

Chapter One
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    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.

    Authors Notes: This story is a Stargate/Robotech fusion story that is not in any way related to This Isn't Kansas and is instead set in a universe where the Stargate was never recovered from beneath the Giza Plateau in the late 1920's due to the fact that the expedition that found it was never mounted. In this reality like so many other men of his generation Professor Langford died in the trenches of the First World War. Thus, the Stargate, and its DHD, have remained undisturbed buried beneath the sands of Giza where they have remained – until now.

    I have wanted to do this story for quite a while, really since my last read through of Cyclone's sadly abandoned story Closer To Home and ultimately thought what the hell might as well have a crack at it. So, without further ado let's get cracking shall we.

    Story events begin towards the end of the two-year period between the Rain of Death and Khyron's uprising.

    ~~~///~~~

    Chapter One

    Zentraedi Reclamation Site L314
    Giza Plateau, Egypt
    5th September 2013


    Colonel James Fawcett, formerly of the US Army Corps of Engineers now UEDF Army Core of Engineers, smiled as he carefully read through the latest report from the teams working outside the dense robotech alloy walls of the repurposed Zentraedi dropship that they had been using as a base for the last few months. Finally, after several months of work they had almost finished the job that they had been sent out here – to the torn up remains of the Giza Plateau – to do. The job in question was one that he, and many of his colleagues, was becoming quite familiar with.

    They were here to remove a crashed Zentraedi warship – specifically a Thuverl Salan-class heavy cruiser – that had fallen to Earth in the aftermath of the Rain of Death and the battle with Dolza. The cruiser in question like so many others having been caught up in the massive reflex weapon detonation that had not only obliterated the massive asteroid that had been converted into the Zentraedi's main fleet base but created a wave of supercharged particles and plasma that had annihilated the vast majority of the Zentraedi Main Fleet. The cruiser and the others that had crashed had been at the edge of the blast area and while they had escaped utter obliteration they had still been disabled – the crew aboard this particular vessel killed – and far, far too many of them had fallen into the gravity well of the smouldering Earth.

    This particular cruiser had come down over North Africa and as it came in had completely trashed the pyramids of Giza – the ancient Egyptian monuments, which had endured several millennia of Saharan sandstorms and countless generations of tomb raiders, being no match for a few million tons of super-strong alien alloy falling at hypersonic velocities – before ploughing into the rest of the Giza Plateau and ripping up the sandstone like it was water before coming to a dead halt. There it had laid leaking both gamma and hyper-ionic radiation from broken open sublight engine cores, radiation that had begun drifting towards both Cairo and the extremely fertile farmland of the Nile delta. A situation that everybody knew could not have been allowed to continue – especially as they needed all the fertile farmland they could get right now as so much had been scorched into uselessness by the quantum fires of the Rain of Death.

    Hence Admiral Gloval and General Maistroff had sent them here to clean up and dispose of the wreckage before the radiation could reach either Cairo or the delta.

    Using a number of adapted destroids – specifically Spartan destroids which were the easiest to customise and had fully functional hands much like on a battloid – they had gotten to work. The damaged sublight engine cores had been relatively easy to remove and transport somewhere they could be safely disposed of through a combination of disassembly and decontamination. The bigger problem they had faced was disassembling the rest of the ship due to the heavy armour and structural bracing that all warships had not to mention some of the more complex internal components like the reflex furnaces as well as safely removing the cruisers huge stockpile of anti-ship munitions.

    It was the disassembly of the ship that had taken the most time. But now they had more or less finished, according to the report the last few segments of the hull were scheduled to be taken away to a foundry outside Lisbon later today where they would be melted down and recycled. After all there was nothing wrong with the metal once recycled it could be used for any number of purposes including the rebuilding of Earth's infrastructure which had naturally been very badly damaged during the Rain. He had already heard that some of the metal they'd recovered had already been recycled into a brand-new maglev track between Paris and London via a newly refurbished and upgraded – a project that had actually begun before the Rain, but which like so much else had had to briefly put on hold by the need to deal with the post-Rain global humanitarian catastrophe – Channel Tunnel.

    A knock at the door brought him out of his perusal of the progress report. He looked up with a frown of confusion wondering who it was. "Come in," he called out. The door opened and Lieutenant Paulson, who looked a lot younger than his twenty-nine years, came in. "Yes lieutenant?"

    "Sir we've finished loading the last of the Zentraedi ship fragments onto the trucks for transport to the airport," Paulson reported before pausing, "however when we removed the last piece, we found something buried underneath."

    Oh, please let it not be an artifact from Ancient Egypt, James thought, knowing that if that was the case it would require him to fill in six ton of additional paperwork. He would also have to secure the site until the UEG to rustle up archaeologists or Egyptologists from somewhere to come and investigate. Which wouldn't be easy as so many of the world's scientists had perished during the Rain of Death as many had been based in universities that had been incinerated during the reflex cannon bombardment.

    "What kind of something," he asked after a moment.

    Paulson grimaced, having seen the expressions that had flashed across his CO's face. Thus, he knew what he had to say was probably not going to go down that well, hell he didn't relish saying it himself given all the additional paperwork that was about to be dumped on both their desks. "Sir it's a series of sandstone cover stones engraved with Egyptian hieroglyphics, the cover stones are approximately several meters in diameter and have to weigh a good few thousand tons," he reported, "to make matters worse there is a huge crack running across them from where the underside of the cruiser's prow was literally pressing down on them. And that's not all."

    James winced. "What else," he asked knowing that the Egyptologists were not going to be that happy with that report, not that they could blame him for it as a few million tons of derelict robotech warship sitting on top of the cover stones was bound to cause significant damage. Frankly they were lucky that the whole mass hadn't been reduced to broken shards or melted by the heat of the cruisers initial impact with the desert floor.

    "Sir there is something buried underneath the stones," Paulson replied, "the sensors on our Spartans are picking up a large metallic signature, two of them in fact, that does not match any material in our database, whatever it is it's definitely not from Earth."

    "It's alien? How long has it been there?"

    "From the depth beneath the modern desert surface I would say at least six thousand years. Sir should we attempt to recover it?"

    "No but secure the area we will call in some experts to help recover whatever it is," James answered, "however I want you to run a few scans through the cover stones if you can. Forward me the results as soon as you have them."

    "Understood sir."

    "Dismissed lieutenant."

    "Sir."

    ~~//~~

    United Earth Defence Command
    New Macross City
    Three Days Later


    Admiral Henry Gloval felt like he was beating his head against a brick wall as he attempted, once again, to deal with those members of the defence council and the United Earth Government who wanted to increase controls on all planet side Zentraedi – both those that were and weren't micronized. The reason that they were giving this time was the increased tensions and frustrations the aliens were exhibiting as they attempted to adapt to a life outside of constant warfare. Some of the councillors were concerned that it would lead to violence – the aliens falling back into old habits and programmed responses – others well they were simply being xenophobic assholes using any excuse to try and make trouble.

    The former he could understand their concerns – especially as there were rumours of Zentraedi warlords out in the wastelands created by the Rain who were seeking to create trouble, warlords like Khyron, Azonia and someone called Zeraal – and he even shared some of them to a degree. Hell, he knew that Commander Breetai also had some concerns about the warlords – especially Zeraal who had been one of Dolza's most loyal and capable commanders, and Khyron who for all his instabilities could be very charismatic when he wanted to be – hence why they had quietly begun slipping some of Breetai's people – well ones that Khyron and Zeraal probably would not know to be loyal to Breetai and through him them – among their ranks. The latter members though, they were just arrogant small-minded people that he had little time for.

    "Enough," he said looking firmly at Colonel Matthews who was one of the leading xenophobes. "The council has already decided that imposing additional restrictions and controls on the Zentraedi at this time would be counterproductive – raising the issue at every opportunity is not going to get us to change our minds."

    "But sir we need to…"

    "The decision has been made," Secretary Anderson, the current UEG secretary of defence who was also acting as council chairman, added firmly. "Admiral Gloval is right in his words. The issue of additional restrictions is closed for now, should the situation change, we may consider the matter again but not until then. Is that understood?"

    "Yes sir," Matthews replied, glowering slightly at being foiled once again. Damn it didn't they see that they had to put some additional controls on the Zentraedi? The giants had exterminated eighty percent of the human race in minutes for goodness sakes. Were they to just let them roam free so they could plot wiping out the rest of them? Still, he knew better than to push some more now, though he glared at Gloval infuriated by his cowardice in this matter only to be pointedly ignored.

    "Right moving onto the last item on today's agenda," Anderson said, shooting a warning glare at Matthews having seen the way he looked at Gloval. The other man obviously read the implicit warning as he winced. Then he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "General Markwell I believe you have something to report?"

    "Yes, as you are all aware I have a number of combat engineering crews spread out around the planet cleaning up some of the more dangerous wrecked Zentraedi vessels," the general reported, "three days ago they finished cleaning up the crashed Thuverl Salan cruiser on the Giza Plateau. As they were clearing away the last of the wreckage from the bow section, they found something underneath it."

    "What kind of something," Anderson asked.

    "Beneath a series of carved sandstone cover stones covered with Egyptian hieroglyphs, they discovered a large ring structure six point seven meters in diameter and a smaller vaguely mushroom shaped pedestal device. Both are engraved with strange symbols and are made from a material not found on Earth," Markwell replied. "I passed a copy of our scan data to Exedore to see if the Zentraedi could identify it from their own records."

    "And we have," Exedore answered taking that as his cue to speak. "While the purpose of the ring is unknown to us the material that it and the pedestal device are made from are not. They are composed of a rare quasi-metallic element called naquada. A material with some very interesting and useful properties though its scarcity in their native galaxy has long prevented the Robotech Masters from exploiting them in anything other than a limited fashion."

    "What kind of properties are we talking about, Exedore," Gloval asked curious.

    "Naquada is a room temperature hyperconductor as well as an energy amplifier," Exedore replied, "whatever energy you put into it you get a hundred times as much energy out. In certain situations, and with certain materials it can also be used to generate considerable amounts of energy though not as much as a reflex furnace."

    "Sounds highly useful," Matthews commented, even as he inwardly grimaced at having to talk to the micronized Zentraedi official at all. He would have much rather shot the alien bastard dead where he sat than talk to him. Unfortunately, he couldn't act on that impulse, not without signing his own death warrant anyway as he knew full well that Gloval wouldn't hesitate to have him shot or worse turn him over to Breetai so the Zentraedi could slowly crush him for killing his former advisor and still close friend.

    "It is colonel," Exedore replied "though as I said its relative scarcity in our native galaxy has prevented the Robotech Masters from exploiting it as anything other than a scientific curiosity. However, I believe the material might be far more common in this galaxy."

    "What do you mean?" Anderson asked curious.

    "When we were searching for the SDF-1 our forces scanned numerous star systems before our finder beams locked onto this planet," Exedore explained, "in almost every case we detected signatures that indicate that naquada is likely present in system. However, since there was no protoculture signature we did not investigate any further."

    "Do you know if there is any more in this system?" Gloval asked.

    "I'm afraid not, once we located the SDF-1 our focus was naturally on recovering the ship and not scanning the rest of the system for resources," Exedore replied. "As you all know our mission was to recover the battlefortress and return it to the Robotech Masters not resource acquisition."

    "What about the ring itself and the cover stones?" Anderson asked changing the topic slightly, "what are we doing about them?"

    "The ring and the cover stones have been transported to the UEDF base on Crete. We didn't want too but intelligence indicated that at least one of the EBSIS backed Islamist militia's that are still at large in the region was heading in the direction of Giza, so we carefully moved them," Markwell replied. "We are currently attempting to find someone who can translate the hieroglyphics for us but it's slow going. Sadly, almost all the world's Egyptologists were killed during Dolza's attack or in the immediate aftermath. Finding one who is alive is proving difficult though we do have a promising lead on a former Egyptologist and anthropologist a Doctor Daniel Jackson. He is now working as a language teacher in a university in the Chilean capital Santiago.

    "As for the rings some scientists from the Robotech Research Group facility in Austria, led by an astrophysicist named Samantha Carter, have arrived on the base, and are beginning to examine both it and the pedestal. They have already determined that they are some-kind of wirelessly linked mechanism."

    "How so," Gloval asked, making a mental note to check up with Emil later if he knew anything about the ring. Though he was also familiar with the name Samantha Carter, the former US Air Force officer turned civilian researcher had been instrumental in helping unlock the secrets of reflex furnace technology. He would also have to check his inbox for any reports on this ring device as being the admiral of the fleet he would naturally have a copy forwarded to him.

    "When they were unpacking the pedestal one of the techs inadvertently touched one of the panels," Markwell answered, "it lit up and the ring itself made a grinding noise. When they looked at it, they could see that the symbols are mounted on an inner ring that was rotating. It stopped beneath one of the chevron shaped devices spaced around the ring which made a locking motion and locking in place."

    Exedore frowned. "That's strange have you compared the symbols to anything?" he asked.

    "We have. They appear to be stylized representations of various constellations though why they're there we still do not know."

    "Keep us appraised General," Anderson ordered.

    "Of course, sir."

    "Is there any other business," Anderson said glancing around to see if anyone else had something that they wished to bring before the council. There was nothing. "Then this meeting of the defence council is officially adjourned. Good evening gentlemen and ladies, I will see you all at next week's meeting."

    With the official end of the meeting everyone picked up their tablet computers and stood before starting to make their way out of the room. General Markwell quickly moved to speak with Admiral Gloval before the Russian man could leave the room, thankfully Gloval seemed to realize that he wanted something, so he stood back to wait for him.

    "General Markwell is there something I can help you with?" Gloval asked, "something to do with the ring?"

    "Yes, sir there is," Markwell answered, "as I said in the meeting, we have located Doctor Jackson in Santiago. However, I need your help to contact him. I would send someone myself but…"

    "…doing so would mean you would have to deal with General Leonard, and he would certainly want something in return and make you jump through far too many bureaucratic hoops while sending one of his own people to seek out Doctor Jackson," Gloval finished, knowing Anatole Leonard of old. Thus, he knew the power plays that he liked to get up to whenever he thought he could get away with it and being the senior UEDF officer in South America he tended to treat the region somewhat as his own personal fiefdom. Thus, he would argue and frustrate almost anyone who asked for something from him or his region – well unless that was someone like him. While Leonard would argue with Markwell, he wouldn't dare argue with him or do anything to get in his way – he knew where far too many of the other man's skeletons were buried for him to do that.

    "Yes."

    "Send me all the information you have on the ring and some of the images of the hieroglyphs. I'll send one of my old command crew down to Santiago to recruit Doctor Jackson," Gloval said already working out just who he would send to accomplish the mission of recruiting the former Egyptologist. While Anatole would still outrank whoever he sent he knew full well that the other man wouldn't dare do anything to interfere with them or their mission. To do so would risk a confrontation with him and that would be the last thing that Leonard would want.

    "Thank you I'll make sure it's sent to you as soon as I get back to my office."

    "You're welcome," Gloval replied prompting the other officer to smile, nod, and walk away to return to his office to make the appropriate arrangement. Gloval was about to leave himself when Exedore came up to him. "Yes Exedore?"

    "Admiral based on the discussion that has just been had do you want me to speak with Lord Breetai," Exedore asked, "and request a more detailed scan of both the planet and the system in general?"

    "To search for more of this naquada mineral?" Gloval asked, the micronized Zentraedi nodded in response. Gloval considered that for a moment, this naquada did sound like it was a highly useful material. If they could find more of it, not to mention figure out what the hell the ring and the pedestal actually did, then it could help them a lot. They wouldn't have to rely so much on the protoculture they were recovering from the wreckage of the Zentraedi main fleet to power their technology, especially the technology that was helping them with planetary regeneration like the atmospheric filtration towers and soil regenerators.

    "Very well ask Breetai if he wouldn't mind doing it," he said at last. "And while we are here, has there been any word from our spies?"

    "Very little at the moment otherwise I would have mentioned it during the meeting," Exedore replied. "I do know that Kazarn has successfully integrated himself with Zeraal's group and Arzen has done the same with Khyron's group. The fact that we arranged for both of them to have received training in maintenance and repair of battle mecha has helped considerably there. Beyond that we have nothing so far, beyond that there is considerable friction between Zeraal and Khyron – which does not surprise me in the least given Khyron has a less than stellar reputation among my people – though how far that goes at the moment we do not know."

    "It would be advantageous if we could get them to fight one another."

    "Indeed. I have forwarded what information our spies have gathered so far to your inbox."

    "Thank you Exedore."

    "You are most welcome. If there is nothing else Admiral, I will take my leave and contact Lord Breetai to arrange the scans."

    "No there is nothing else. Good day Exedore."

    "And you Admiral Gloval," Exedore replied with a polite half-bow – that among Zentraedi conveyed genuine respect for a superior – before turning and walking away. Gloval watched him go for a few moments, then sighed, and started walking back to his office he had a mission to arrange and a mountain of paperwork to get through…

    …what fun.

    ~~//~~

    Santiago
    Chile
    Eighteen Hours Later


    Daniel Jackson felt a familiar mixture of exhaustion, frustration and humiliation pulling at him as he drove through the streets of downtown Santiago heading for the small, somewhat rundown, apartment that he had called home for over a decade now. The reason he was feeling like he wasn't due, well not entirely, to his job he actually quite enjoyed teaching young people how to speak English and a few other languages well when they wanted to learn anyway.

    Which his current crop of students didn't seem to want to do. Hence why teaching them was such an exhausting, frustrating experience. Every single one of them would rather talk and gossip about the recent appearance of UEDF construction crews – which consisted of a mixture of humans, micronized and full-sized Zentraedi – that had shown up a few weeks ago and begun restoring and upgrading the cities infrastructure, which had been quite seriously damaged by the earthquakes that had followed the Rain of Death. He could understand it to a degree, learning modern international English or ancient Sumerian was nowhere near as cool as seeing giant humanoids – be they biological like the Zentraedi or technological like the engineering outfitted Spartan destroids – walking around their city.

    Of course, understanding it didn't make it any less frustrating.

    The humiliation though came from the fact that he was having to do this work at all. He had not spent nearly a decade becoming an archaeologist and anthropologist just to teach a bunch of teenagers with galloping acne, not to mention the usual amateur dramatics teenagers loved to indulge in, how to speak English and almost other language they had signed up to learn. No, he had done all that work to learn about the past, to piece together the mysteries of the Ancient World. He had thought, had actually known, that he had stumbled onto something amazing, something that could rewrite everything they ever thought they knew about the civilizations of the Ancient World and Egypt in particular.

    And what had he got for his trouble… being laughed out of academia by conservative peers who didn't like anything that interfered with their preconceived notions of the past. He sighed wondering why it was bothering him so much today, he had had over two decades now to get used to it. Then he remembered as it was on this day all the way back in 94 that he had presented his research and findings, only to be torn to pieces by the attack dogs of the academic world.

    A world that no longer really existed as he knew that so many of his former colleagues had died in or just after the Rain. Their lives snuffed out either in the quantum fires of phenomenally powerful alien energy beams or in the geological and climatic chaos that had followed as the Mother Earth writhed in agony from the assault.

    Mentally he shook himself before turning down the road that led to his apartment block. He noted idly that the UEDF and Zentraedi engineers had finished clearing up the collapsed remains of a large hotel complex and had begun preparing the ground for new construction. A quick scan of the sign outside the site showed that it would soon be housing the second of the three atmospheric filtration towers that were to be built in Chile – and from there do their part in clearing up not just all the dust and debris that had been blasted into the stratosphere during the Rain but much of pollution from the industrialisation of the world – returning the atmosphere to a state of cleanliness that it had not been in for nearly two centuries.

    He couldn't help but shake his head in amazement at that prospect. He was no climatologist – though he did have some passing familiarity with the science from where it had impacted global history – but even he could see how big of a job that was going to be. And if what he had heard on the talk shows was right, they would have it done within at most the next ten to fifteen years – the filters and cleaners made possible through robotechnology being just that good. Hmm maybe if the wi-fi is working in my building, for once, I'll download some papers on them from the internet, he thought as it would be a nice distraction from the inevitable marking he would soon have to be doing.

    Reaching his apartment building he pulled into his normal parking bay, turned off the engine and got out. After retrieving his box of marking from the back he made his way inside.

    ~~//~~

    Five minutes later, holding a freshly brewed mug of coffee, he had just settled down in his favourite armchair when someone knocked on his door. He looked up in surprise. Now who could that be, he thought as he put the mug down on a side table and stood up. He made his way to the door and looked through the peep hole, to see a beautiful African-American woman in a green UEDF uniform standing in the corridor. Who was she? What, was she doing here? What, did she want with him? He guessed there was only one way to find out.

    He undid the locks and opened the door to see the woman still standing there, holding a briefcase that he hadn't seen, standing behind her was a dark-haired young man also dressed in UEDF uniform wearing the insignia of a veritech pilot. "May I help you," he asked politely.

    "Doctor Daniel Jackson?" the woman asked seeking to confirm his identity as the man before her looked a little different to the picture she had seen of him, his hair was longer, and he was sporting a significant beard and all in all looked a bit more haggard.

    "Yes," Daniel confirmed.

    "My name is Major Claudia Grant from the Robotech Defence Force," she said introducing herself, "this is Captain Rick Hunter my escort and pilot. May we come in please?"

    Daniel looked at them in surprise. He recognised the names now; he would have to have been living under a rock not to recognise two heroes from the war with the Zentraedi. "Sure," he said stepping aside to let the two of them enter his apartment. As soon as they were in, he closed and locked the door again. "This way."

    He led them into the living room and gestured for them to sit on the couch, like most of his furniture it was somewhat moth-bitten but was still comfortable. Once they had done so he sat down in his air chair again.

    "So, what does the RDF want with me?" he asked.

    "We need your help," Claudia replied, "are you aware that you are one of the few people left in the world who can translate Egyptian hieroglyphs?"

    "You want me to translate something for you?" Daniel asked, "why would I do that? I was laughed out of that world a long time ago."

    "Maybe because doing so could help you prove that you were right all along," Claudia pointed out. Daniel blinked at that reply, he had been quietly searching for years for conclusive, undeniable proof of his theories so he could return to the academic world if only to say, 'I told you so' and to see the look on the face of that sanctimonious ass Jim Raynor when he realized he had been right. While Jim was dead now, like so many others, killed when Washington DC was incinerated by a reflex blast having proof to show to any of the survivors, who still doubted him, would be nice.

    "I'm listening," he said after a moment.

    Claudia nodded and began explaining about how one of the Zentraedi cruisers that had crashed to Earth after the defeat of Dolza had come down over Egypt totally destroyed the great pyramids of Giza – causing a horrified look to appear on Daniel's face at the news of such a legacy being gone forever – before crashing into the plateau where it finally stopped. How after a year or so it had begun leaking radiation from its damaged sublight engines and how that radiation had begun drifting steadily towards both Cairo and the Nile valley and how they had sent combat engineers to clear up the wreck and deal with the radiation problem.

    "Thank god you stopped it," Daniel commented knowing how many people lived in the four millennia old city and how vital a farmland the Nile Delta was. "But what does this have to do with me and my theories?"

    "I was just getting to that," Claudia replied. "As they finished clearing away the remains of the cruiser for recycling, they found something buried beneath it. Something that has been buried beneath the sandstone of the Giza Plateau for over six thousand years."

    Daniel's eyes widened. "What!" he breathed, shocked and amazed. "What did they find?"

    "They found a series of sandstone cover stone tablets circular approximately several meters in diameter, they were covered in Egyptian hieroglyphs from the Old Kingdom era. What was buried beneath them, well that is classified at the moment."

    "The Old Kingdom," Daniel breathed amazed, recovering anything from Ancient Egypt was remarkable but from something so long ago, from when the great pyramids themselves were built, was even more astonishing. "I take it that it is those hieroglyphics that you wish for me to translate. Though how does that connect to my theories?"

    "That's the classified part of things at the moment Doctor Jackson," Rick said calmly even as Claudia opened the briefcase she was carrying and extracted a file.

    "This file contains a few images of some of the hieroglyphs," Claudia said offering it to him. Almost reverently Daniel accepted the file from her and, after a glance for permission, he opened the file and saw three of the highest quality photographs that he had ever seen. Each showed a single hieroglyph that he carefully read and translated, feeling his old passion for the subject come to the fore.

    "Well, this first one says sealed, the second translates to all time and the third says Ra," he said at last, intrigued as all three were clearly part of a single statement. He gave the African-American woman an impressed look, they had given him just enough information in these images to whet his appetite to know more about what was written on the recovered cover stones. "Okay you've got me I'll come with you to translate the rest of the hieroglyphs for you," he said at last. "Though what about my job here?"

    "You need not give it up," Claudia answered, "the United Earth Government and United Earth Defence Forces are quite prepared to negotiate with your employers for use of your services. I believe that the school is currently quite strapped for cash as well as having to use very antiquated technologies."

    That's an understatement, Daniel thought knowing how rundown many of the buildings on the campus were becoming because the school just didn't have the financial resources to maintain them properly. Plus, the technology they had was getting increasingly antiquated with computers that barely ran even the most basic modern software because they were so old. Heck they were still using blackboards and chalk for writing in sometimes quite drafty classroom not interactive smart screens and definitely no holograms. The promise of a huge cash injection from the UEG, plus a possible massive building and tech upgrade, in exchange for a loan of him would definitely be snapped up by the school authorities.

    "Alright if it can be arranged and if I know my students will be taken care of then I will not hesitate to accompany you to wherever you have the cover stones."

    Claudia smiled.
     
    Chapter Two
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Two

    UEG Private Flight LT14
    Two Days Later


    Daniel's mind was still somewhat awhirl as he sat in an incredibly comfortable seat as an official government plane conveyed him towards his destination. Which was apparently Fort Minotaur a UEDF military base on Crete – a base that was serving as the centre of UEG political and UEDF military operations in the European sector – a few miles to the south-west of the capital city of Heraklion. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around how quickly events had moved from the moment he had agreed to assist with the translation of the hieroglyphics.

    As soon as she had had his agreement Major Grant had set things in motion with a call, from a portable fold comm device, straight to Admiral Gloval himself. Within no more than two hours he had received a phone call from the dean of the university informing him that they had agreed to loan his services as a translator to the UEDF, though they hadn't said at the time what they had been given or offered in exchange. He had later found out from friends among the staff that not only was the university getting a hell of a lot of money – enough to run it for nearly five years – from the UEG but they were getting a whole lot of state-of-the-art equipment out of it along with a full refurbishment of the campus. Both the speed of their offer, and the immense generosity of it, had communicated to him quite clearly that whatever this was, whatever the UEDF had found beneath the remains of the Giza Plateau it was big, possibly as big as the arrival of the SDF-1 had been nearly fourteen years ago.

    Since then, everything had been something of a whirlwind, the vast majority of his time being taken up by travelling. First there had been a flight from Santiago to New Macross City where he had spent the night put up in one of the nicest hotels in the city. Then after a hearty breakfast they had boarded this plane and begun a long trek across first the Atlantic Ocean then the Mediterranean Sea towards Crete. At least I have good travelling companions, he thought glancing across at where Major Grant – or Claudia as she kept telling him to call her - and Exedore were sitting. They had both been very good conversationalists, he'd especially enjoyed talking with Exedore as the anthropologist in him had been fascinated to learn more about the Zentraedi as a people and how they were learning to, slowly but surely, embrace a way of life that didn't involve being at war all the time.

    "May I have your attention please," the voice of Captain Hunter said from the public address system gaining all their attention. "We have entered the approach pattern for Fort Minotaur and will be landing within the next ten minutes. Please prepare for landing."

    "Finally," Daniel muttered, it had been a very long time since he had taken a flight anywhere, let alone one like this that crossed hemispheres and multiple time zones. Thankfully the phenomenon known as jetlag was a thing of the past as drugs existed now – and had done since two thousand four, along with numerous other things they had been developed from technology and knowledge found on a fallen alien starship that had been both a Rosetta Stone and a Pandora's Box in equal measure – that compensated for physiological upsets that caused the condition. He had made sure to take some before they had left New Macross.

    "Not used to flying for long periods are you Doctor Jackson," Exedore asked with a smile.

    "Not these days, Exedore," Daniel replied with a smile of his own as he fastened his seatbelt for landing. "Until I left Santiago, I hadn't been on a plane for over a decade. Taking a long flight like this after so long is therefore a bit taxing even with an anti-jetlag drug in my system."

    "While your people use it for that that is not that particular drug's primary purpose," Exedore answered with a smile. At the surprised look Daniel shot him he explained. "The drug was originally created by the Tirolians to counter the occasionally very deleterious effects of the first generations of space fold drives. As space folding technology has improved over the last few millennia, and the flaws that caused said effects eliminated, the need for the drug diminished though its formula has remained in most databases."

    "Which is where we found it," Claudia said recalling how they had found the formula for that and a number of other drugs that had radically improved life for so many on Earth before the Zentraedi arrived and the Robotech War began. Though those drugs had also helped save a lot of lives after the Rain, especially the ones that boosted cell regeneration and helped counter the worst effects of radiation poisoning.

    "Indeed," Exedore agreed.

    "Who are the Tirolians," Daniel asked not recognising the name, though something told him that it was an important name.

    "They are the ones who created the Zentraedi initially as tools of labour but later they repurposed us into weapons of war," Exedore explained. "For the last thousand years they have been known more as the Robotech Masters."

    Daniel frowned. "They don't sound that friendly," he commented inwardly feeling disgusted at the thought of engineering an entire species first to be a labour force somewhere and then later transforming them into weapons of war, tools of destruction and conquest. It was a disgusting practice as he could think of much better things to do with the knowledge of bioengineering and genetics that these Tirolians/Robotech Masters had to have to create the Zentraedi in the first place.

    "The Robotech Masters are a very advanced, very powerful race yes, far more so than my people have ever been, but they have not been to war in many generations," Exedore said reassuringly, unsaid was the fact that warfare was what the Zentraedi were for, "plus Tirolian space is a very, very long way from here being literally galaxies away. There is nothing to fear from them."

    For now, at least, he thought knowing that the Robotech Masters certainly knew of the death of Dolza and the destruction of the vast majority of the entire Zentraedi armada by now. He didn't think though that they would be in a position to do much about it for quite some time given that their own forces were limited and mostly tied down keeping the subject worlds of the Tirolian Empire under heel or fighting off the occasional border raid from the Invid. The distance from Tirolian space - located as it was in the galaxy that Earth humans referred to as Andromeda – was also a good defence given space folding across intergalactic space was a tricky and dangerous process given the relative lack of navigational markers. It was certainly something that the Robotech Masters wouldn't want to do unless they had no other choice.

    "I see."

    The sound of the fasten seat belts sign lighting up and a change in the pitch of the engines, as they were beginning their landing approach, brought an end to the discussion before it could go any further. Daniel braced himself for the bump of landing while wondering just what it was, he was going to find when they entered the base and he got to translate the hieroglyphs on the cover stones.

    He also had to wonder if they would show him whatever it was that the cover stones had been concealing. For them to have given all they had to the university in Santiago in order to secure his loan it had to be something massive.

    "What are you thinking of Daniel," Claudia asked using his name as he had asked her to do, in exchange for him calling her by her name.

    "Just thinking about the cover stones Claudia," Daniel admitted, "I have to admit that I am very intrigued to know what it was that was underneath them. For the UEG to go to all the trouble and be as generous as they have been it has to be something incredible."

    Claudia smiled. "You will see soon enough," she replied knowing that the UEG and UEDF High Command first wanted him to translate the hieroglyphs before they showed him the ring. It was believed after all that the hieroglyphs would reveal something about what the ring was meant to do. Despite an exhaustive search by Exedore and his fellow advisors the Zentraedi records had not been that helpful in that regard, having no idea what the ring was though they had revealed a bit more about the capabilities and potential uses of the material that it was made from.

    "I look forward to it," Daniel answered as a jolt ran through the plane as the wheels touched the ground for the first time in hours, followed by the sound of the engines going into full reverse thrust slowing them down.

    "It shouldn't be long now," Claudia replied as the feeling of deceleration died away as they came to an almost complete halt. The only feeling of motion now was Rick taxiing them to their assigned stand on Fort Minotaur's aircraft parking grid.

    After a couple of moments even that stopped as they reached their assigned parking spot, the sound of the engines dying away completely a moment later. A few moments later someone beating on the door to the outside world indicated that a set of steps had been brought up to the hatch. Meaning that there welcoming committee was certainly waiting outside for them to disembark.

    "That's our cue," Claudia said undoing her belt and standing up. Knowing that it was time to disembark both Daniel and Exedore undid their own seatbelts and stood up, falling in behind Claudia as she approached the hatch to the outside world. A hatch that was already being opened for them by Rick, who unlocked it, pulled it back and slipped the door to one side letting the warm, moist air of a Mediterranean autumn spill into the interior of their jet.

    Throttling down his nervousness Daniel followed behind Claudia, with Exedore following along behind, as they stepped out into the golden sunlight of evening. The sun was beginning to set casting long shadows across the surface hangars and structures of the base – the vast majority of the base including the living quarters would be buried deep underground safe from all but the most powerful of attacks. Daniel briefly looked around noting that the base was primarily constructed from a material that resembled reinforced concrete though it was probably a robotechnology material and thus much stronger than it appeared. Then he noted the small welcoming committee that was awaiting them.

    Knowing that he couldn't linger here he followed Claudia down the steps to the ground, Exedore and Captain Hunter following a few paces behind him. Once they had all disembarked, they approached the small group of officers, led by a athletic-looking middle aged man with salt-and-pepper hair.

    "Major Grant, Doctor Jackson, Minister Exedore, Captain Hunter," the man said, "I am Colonel Charles Kowalski, welcome to Fort Minotaur. General Richards sends his apologies that he cannot be here to greet you himself but his eldest went into labour an hour ago, so he's had to leave the base to be with her."

    "That's quite alright Colonel," Claudia answered.

    "If you'll follow me some guest quarters have been prepared for you," Kowalski said, "I'm sure you would all like to freshen up a bit from your long flight."

    "That would be nice," Daniel admitted. "Though I would like to take a look at the cover stones as soon as possible."

    "Understandable as we are quite anxious to know what the damned things say," Kowalski admitted, "but you should take a little time to rest and maybe have a bite to eat first. The cover stones have sat in the ground for thousands of years they can wait another couple of hours for translation to begin."

    "True," Daniel admitted, eager as he was to get started, he was quite hungry, and he did desperately need a shower and maybe a change of clothes.

    "Please lead on Colonel," Claudia said.

    "Of course, Major this way please."

    ~~//~~

    Two Hours Later

    Daniel felt like he had rattlesnakes performing a mating dance in his stomach as he followed a UEDF marine through the brightly lit corridors towards the lab where they were keeping the cover stones. It had been nice to freshen up and have something to eat in the quite comfortable quarters, which were certainly a lot more comfortable than his apartment back in Santiago, that he had been assigned in the VIP section of the underground complex.

    Now though he was quite eager to get started and it would definitely be interesting to see just how much of Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs that he actually remembered as it had been so long. It had been pure luck that he had recognised the meaning of the glyphs that he'd been shown back in his apartment that had convinced him to come here and help.

    "Here we are Doctor Jackson," the marine said as they arrived outside one of the numerous labs that dotted this particular level. The marine swiped a security card – identical to the one Daniel himself had just been issued with – through a reader beside the door making it open with a whir of electromagnets. Daniel smiled and followed the marine inside…

    …only to stop at what he beheld.

    The lab was a large rectangular box eight meters wide by ten meters long. It was largely empty though there were several work benches dotted around that in the labs normal life would have no doubt been filled with all sorts of equipment. It was certainly an impressive workspace but what instantly grabbed Daniel's attention was what was floating suspended on a complex rigging apparatus at the far end of the lab.

    The cover stones.

    Moving almost on automatic pilot Daniel approached them gazing at the huge circular stones in awe. Though he immediately noticed evidence of damage to the stones, especially the central one as it had a very nasty crack running right through it, damaging some of the glyphs which was going to make translating them somewhat difficult. But then he liked a challenge.

    "What happened here," he asked gesturing to the crack, noting with some surprise that the marine had been joined by Major Grant – he hadn't heard her come in or hadn't heard her following him.

    "We believe the damage to the cover stones is from where the derelict Zentraedi cruiser was sitting on top of them," Claudia told him, "there was only a centimetre or so of pulverized sandstone between the underside of the cruiser's prow and the cover stones. These stones had a few million tons of derelict robotech alloys sitting on top of them for nearly a year. Between that and the initial impact with the plateau it is not surprising that they took some damage."

    "No, I suppose not," Daniel admitted with a sigh as he turned his gaze back to the cover stones noting the worst of the damage was to the circular centre stone though some of the others were also damaged being chipped and cracked from the weight of the cruiser, "I suppose we're lucky that they weren't shattered into a million fragments by all that weight pressing down on them. Still, I can tell you now that some of these hieroglyphs are going to be quite difficult to translate as they are quite badly damaged."

    "Can you still translate them," Claudia asked.

    "I believe so yes," Daniel replied with a reassuring smile, "it's just going to take me awhile as I will have to somehow reconstruct the damaged glyphs to figure out what there likely meaning is. Due to the damage, I do have to warn you that the translations aren't going to be quite as accurate as I would like."

    "We have a high-resolution laser scanner due here tomorrow," Claudia told him making his eyes widen in surprise. "Will that be of any help reading the damaged hieroglyph sections?"

    "It should yes," Daniel replied after taking a moment to recover from his surprise. "Though I will need quite a bit of help deciphering the data as I've never used a laser scanner before thus, I have no idea how to interpret what it tells me."

    "That can definitely be arranged," a new voice said from the direction of the doorway, drawing everyone's attention. Daniel turned with the others to see a relatively tall blond-haired woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties – much like Daniel himself – and wearing a lab coat had come into the room. "Sorry I'm late I was unfortunately delayed dealing with a slight spat between some of the other scientists. It's been resolved now."

    "That's quite alright doctor," Claudia replied knowing from experience how tetchy scientists could sometimes be, having worked with a fair few of them over the years since the SDF-1 first fell to Earth. To say that it could be like herding cats at times would have been an understatement. "Doctor Jackson please allow me to introduce Doctor Samantha Carter, she is the head of research here at Fort Minotaur and is the leader of this project. Doctor Carter this is Doctor Daniel Jackson."

    "Pleased to meet you," Samantha said holding out her hand for the other scientist to shake. She had been reading up on Doctor Jackson and had found his theories about the pyramids being constructed by aliens as well as crosspollination of the ancient cultures of Earth quite interesting. The arguments were logical and made sense, unfortunately they had been a bit too radical for the scientific authorities in the pre-Robotech world and the poor man had been made a laughingstock by those who felt threatened by what was clearly a very intelligent and intuitive mind.

    "Likewise," Daniel replied with a smile taking the other scientist's hand and they shook. "Though what project is that? There is obviously quite a bit more going on here than just these cover stones."

    Sam blinked. "You haven't told him yet?" she asked looking at Claudia.

    "Not yet," Claudia replied, "UEDF High Command wanted Daniel to begin working on the translations first before we showed him the rest."

    Daniel blinked. "Show me what," he asked.

    "Why what was under these things Daniel," Claudia replied with a smile. "I know you have been curious ever since we first met you in Santiago and you have been patient enough, as much as command may disagree, I am not going to make you start translating until we can do the laser scan."

    "You mean," Daniel started to say.

    "Indeed, we are," Sam replied taking the lead. "This way please, doctor."

    "Please call me Daniel."

    "Alright then Daniel. You can call me Sam only my father ever really called me Samantha and usually when I'd done something wrong," Sam replied, even as she felt a familiar stab of pain at the thought of her father General Jacob Carter, who'd died of cancer a year or so after the arrival of the SDF-1, before the modern anti-cancer drugs – created from information found in the computers of the alien battlefortress – and treatments became available. Treatments and drugs that had cut the mortality rate of all forms of cancers down to virtually zero – something that had saved a lot of lives both before and after the Rain.

    "Alright Sam it is."

    "This way," Sam said with a smile before turning and leading the way out, back into the near featureless corridors of this particular subterranean fortress. Only the fact that she was well used to UEDF underground bases, all of which tended to follow the same basic floor plans with only small, mostly cosmetic, differences between them due to scale and the bases intended function, enabling her to navigate the corridors towards the main lab. The sound of footsteps behind her letting her know everyone was following.

    In no time at all they reached the main lab and she gently ushered Doctor Jackson inside, Claudia also following while their marine escort remained outside. Daniel immediately noticed that this lab had a lot more people in it than the one assigned to him, all the tables had people working on them but what really grabbed his attention were two objects in the centre of the room, which unlike his lab was circular with everything facing inwards.

    One was an enormous ring-shaped structure made of a brownish-grey material that didn't look like anything he had ever seen before. It could almost have been mistaken for stone but there was something about it, something about how it gleamed under the lights told him that it wasn't made from stone. As he looked closer, he could see that it was actually two rings in one with the inner ring consisting of thirty-seven panels each engraved with different symbols whose meaning escaped him. Spaced equally around the edges of the outer ring were nine chevron-shaped objects that appeared to be centred around a reddish-orange crystal of some type. The other thing that grabbed his attention was a vaguely mushroom shaped pedestal with a slanted circular board on the top clustered around an orange crystalline dome. Again, he could see that it was split up into a series of panels each with a symbol on them – a symbol that to his trained archaeologist's eyes were identical to those on the ring-shaped device.

    "Incredible," he breathed, "these are what were buried under the cover stones?"

    "Yes," Claudia confirmed, gazing at them in wonder herself. It was one thing to see these things on computer screens or projected as holograms, quite another to see them in person. She couldn't help but feel that whatever these things were, they held an incredibly powerful secret one that could bring great scientific and technological riches or utter annihilation in equal measure.

    "What are they," Daniel asked.

    "We don't know," Sam answered. "We know that they are some kind of linked mechanism, our sensors confirm a subspace link between the pedestal and the ring, but what they are and what they're actually meant to do we have absolutely no idea at this time. We're hoping that your translation of the hieroglyphs on the cover stones will provide us with some answers."

    Daniel blinked and then looked at the devices again, eyes practically glowing in glee at the puzzle these things and the cover stones were presenting him with. A puzzle that was eons in the making and one he would do his utmost to solve. "Then I guess I better get started at least with some of the least damaged glyphs," he said a moment before a whooping alarm began to sound throughout the base. "What's that?"

    Claudia looked up in surprise and concern at the sound of the alarms, then she turned and spoke to Daniel. "It's a battle alert," she said, "this base is under attack."

    ~~//~~

    Front Gate
    Fort Minotaur
    A Few Minutes Earlier


    Private Adrian Campbell was bored.

    As he had been everyday for this last duty rotation, he was sitting here in the guard house watching the feeds from the sensors and cameras that monitored the perimeter of Fort Minotaur searching constantly for any threat to the base. It was a job that to his twenty-year-old mind was the textbook definition of boring. He had joined the military to add some spice, some excitement to his life, not to just sit around watching a bunch of monitors.

    He glanced at the chronometer on the wall, noting that it was approaching 1400 hours. Another two hours of this tedium then I can clock off and I'm off on leave for a week then, he thought with a slight smile as he imagined the fun he was going to have over the next few days. While a week wasn't enough time to make his way back home to the small town in rural Pennsylvania where he'd grown up – global air travel had a long way to go before it recovered from the Rain as so many jetliners had been incinerated in transit during the Rain as the sky suddenly filled with lethal energy beams – there was time for him to really let his hair down. There were some nice pubs and nightclubs in downtown Heraklion, perfect places for a guy to unwind.

    He put those thoughts out of his mind for now as he picked up his mug of coffee. Only to find to his displeasure that the blasted thing was empty. Grumbling, he stood up and went over to the coffee machine and poured himself a fresh cup. He was just returning to his station with a fresh-ish mug of the liquid – he was really going to have to change the filter soon as it was starting to taste a bit stale – when one of the sensors emitted a warning bleep.

    "If it's a bloody rabbit again," he muttered as he sat down and pulled up the feed from the sensor. It was one of the camera feeds that was monitoring the approach road to the base. The blasted thing was forever getting tripped by rabbits or other small animals bounding across the road.

    The camera feed appeared…

    …and the mug of coffee slipped from this hand to shatter on the floor. He didn't notice as he was too busy staring at the camera feed in shock and horror. Walking up the road was what looked like an entire platoon of battle mecha, specifically a mixture of Spartan and Tomahawk destroids with what looked like two Monster destroids following slowly behind.

    Quickly he sent an interrogative command to the computer, prompting it to both send an IFF request to the approaching mecha as well as checking if any of the bases mecha platoons were out today. If Jeremy failed to tell me that someone was out when I took over from him, I'm so going to kick his ass, he thought as the results came back. There was nobody out today, certainly not in platoon strength, plus the destroids were not giving off UEDF IFF signals, or any IFF signals at all in point of fact. Which meant only one thing…

    …they were hostile.

    Instantly his training kicked in. Reaching out he pressed the alert button, setting alarms ringing throughout the base and bringing the automated perimeter defences fully online while also within the base causing personnel to begin scrambling to stations to defend themselves and the base. Simultaneously with sounding the alarm the control triggered blast shutters on the small kiosk-like room that was his station.

    The shutters were just closing when he heard a whistling sound. A moment later he felt some tremendous force lift him up as if he weighed nothing, instead of a hundred and eighty pounds, and slam him into the far wall with enough force that he was instantly robbed of consciousness.

    ~~//~~

    Sitting in the cockpit of his upgraded destroid, the man who now referred to himself only as Prime, watched as railgun slugs from one of their Monsters impacted next to guard house and detonated. The force of the blasts shattering some of the windows – which weren't already covered by closing blast shutters – and collapsing part of the outer wall.

    He had hoped that they wouldn't be detected this soon, or that whoever was in there would believe they were just a platoon returning from a patrol, but such was life. It was just going to make his and his fellow disciple's task that much harder as now Fort Minotaur would be on alert and its own destroids – not to mention any veritech's stationed there – would be scrambling alongside fixed defences. While he didn't doubt that the upgrades made by his lord to their destroids would give them an advantage it was a complication that he could have done without.

    "Monsters take out the main gates before they seal," he ordered, even as he observed large metal shutters made from a dense robotechnology alloy beginning to emerge from slots in the wall to seal the gates. If those shutters – made as they were from warship grade armour plating – successfully closed, then what was already going to be a difficult task would become near impossible.

    He need not have worried as the two Monsters roared again. Eight 381mm heavy railgun slugs – each packing a plasma warhead – slammed into the shutters, four to each, and detonated. The yellow-white flash of plasma detonations momentarily blinded his external cameras but when he could see again the could see that they had done their job. Both shutters had been pulverized as had the gates beyond them…

    …the way was open.

    "All forces move in," he ordered calmly. "Head straight for the runways and surface to air batteries. We need to take them so our troop carriers can land." He did not need to say that they needed those troop carriers to be sure to take the base long enough to recover the Stargate. They obviously wouldn't be able to keep the base as Admiral Gloval and the rest of the infidels would no doubt send reinforcements as soon as they learned of the attack – and if they were really unfortunate Commander Breetai would send forces down from orbit – but then they didn't need to.

    A chorus of affirmative's came from his fellows, and he began guiding his Spartan towards the entrance.

    It was then however that things began to go wrong as the base defenders were clearly reacting far faster than they had expected they would. The first indication of this being when one of the perimeter turrets opened up on them, spewing bolts of ionic energy towards them. One of the Tomahawk's was hit almost immediately and immediately staggered, an energy field flaring into existence around it as their lord's protection activated as the ion blasts tore at it. A second volley of ion blasts from the turret hit the staggering mecha and the field collapsed allowing the following volley to blow the destroid apart.

    Growling in annoyance he aimed the modified gunpod he was holding in the Spartans hands at the turret and fired. Golden energy bolts flayed at the armour protecting the turret though it held. Cursing softly at the strength of the alloy, even as deep in the darkest recesses of his mind a faint shiver of doubt about his lord's true momentarily blossomed before being quashed, he fired again.

    This time the alloy gave way and the turret exploded. But not before firing on him, its ion blast slamming into his shield like an energetic sledgehammer dropping the barrier strength by nearly a half from just one blast. The energy cell immediately began regenerating the defence even as he got his Spartan moving again, charging into the base with the others.

    They ran straight into a slaughterhouse of crisscrossing energy beams, railgun, and autocannon slugs as a mixture of fixed turrets and defending destroids – which included two full squads of Regult battlepods deployed a few days earlier by Commander Breetai with the agreement of the Defence Council to assist in the defence of the base – opened fire upon them.

    Prime was thrown hard against his seat restraints even as he manoeuvred to escape the lethal crossfire. While he managed it, though his shield was depleted in the process as he took several glancing blows, several of his companions weren't so lucky as their mecha turned into charnel houses – their souls on the way to the heaven offered by their god. On one of his side screens, he saw one of the Monsters aiming to take down a group of Zentraedi battlepods – only to abruptly explode as a pair of Stiletto missiles slammed into it from above the first cracking the shield and the second punching through the armour to turn the walking engine of destruction into a funeral pyre for its three crew.

    Frantically he looked around for the source of the Stilettos to find Valkyrie's swooping down on the remains of his platoon autocannons, lasers and missiles bursting forth from them. Quickly he manoeuvred his destroid to avoid the worst of the bombardment even as a burst of 55mm autocannon rounds slammed into him, tearing through his still regenerating shield to slice deep into the body of the Spartan. Only the fact that he had manoeuvred to avoid the worst of the barrage saved his life as instead of finding the ammunition store for the Spartans central gun cluster the slugs tore apart the main circuit breakers sending a momentary burst of power through the entire mecha.

    Prime screamed as the sudden electrical surge overloaded the dampeners on his controls sending a massive charge of electricity through his body microseconds before all the controls went dark as the Spartans computer shut down all systems. It didn't help him though as the momentarily uncontrolled burst of electrons arced through his system bringing with it a tidal wave of pain…

    …right before everything went dark.

    ~~//~~

    Sitting in the cockpit of the Valkyrie he'd commandeered as soon as the alert went off Captain Rick Hunter watched as the last of the attacking destroids went silent. The sensors of this particular Valkyrie confirming that the destroid while not destroyed by his shots had been mission-killed losing all power. The life signs scan confirming that whoever the pilot was they were unconscious.

    Calmly he assessed the rest of the battle to see that it was over. The destroids and Regult battlepods that had helped defend Fort Minotaur moving calmly through the wreckage, much of which was smouldering and burning from the intense heat of particle beams, lasers, and plasma warheads. Ground troops in battle armour were also approaching, searching for survivors so they could learn who the hell these people had been, where they had come from and how there destroids came to be upgraded with energy shields and for the Spartans to be armed with some type of plasma rifle instead of the normal GU-11 gunpod.

    A check of his sensors showed that there were no other survivors in the remains of the mecha. But then there rarely were survivors when battles were fought with the immense destructive power of robotech weaponry. Whoever the pilot of the Spartan was, he or she was the only one who might be able to give them some answers.

    Hence why he switched to battloid mode and landed next to the Spartan before carefully opening up the pilot's compartment through the external emergency controls. Carefully he reached in and extracted the unconscious pilot before gesturing for some of the ground forces to come over.

    "This one is still alive," he said, the external speakers relaying his voice clearly. "Though from the looks of him he's gotten one hell of an electric shock. Take him to the infirmary but keep him under heavy guard."

    "Sir yes sir," one of the marines acknowledged as he set their prisoner down. He stepped back to watch as a combat medical team approached even as the marines searched their prisoner, extracting a strange, coiled serpent shaped device from a hip holster – its positioning indicating it was some kind of sidearm – along with a wicked looking knife – a kukri he noted – from a holster on the other hip. Then satisfied that their prisoner was disarmed turned him over to the combat medics.

    He was about to turn away, to check over the rest of the battlefield, when the external cameras removed the helmet, the guy was wearing – and from his muscular build he was definitely a guy, an exceptionally fit one at that – and he saw his face…

    …and gasped in shock and recognition.

    "Sir are you alright," one of the marines, from the IFF his powered combat suit was giving off he was a lieutenant, asked having heard him gasp loud enough for the battloids internal microphones to pick it up. "Sir do you recognise this guy?"

    "I do indeed lieutenant," Rick replied at last, mind still reeling wonder what the hell he was doing here. Last he'd heard he and his mother had been on a tour of Europe when he'd run off to join some cult somewhere or other, much to Aunt Maria's horror and despair. "I don't know what he's doing here or how he became so buff as he was a six-foot beanpole last, I saw him, but his name is name is Nathan, Nathan Hunter – he's, my cousin."
     
    Chapter Three
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Three

    Secure Medical Section
    Infirmary, Fort Minotaur
    A Short Time Later


    Rick Hunter stood quiet and alone before a sheet of one-way transparent glass – well not glass per say but permaglass a robotechnology material that while similar to glass in appearance was a great deal stronger – watching as in the secure medical room beyond medical personnel both ran scans over Nathan as well as treated the burns on his hands which had been in contact with the Spartan's controls when his shots breached the main power bus causing Nathan to get a massive electric shock. What the hell has happened to you Nathan, he thought gazing at his cousin's unmoving form.

    The medical personnel had stripped off the uniform that Nathan had been wearing – a uniform that looked almost like something you would see in a drama set in medieval Europe as it had included chainmail of all things, though the chainmail was made from a material that they didn't immediately recognise – and removed a metallic wristband inset with several blue crystals from around his wrist leaving him almost naked. Well aside from a pair of white, standard military issue boxers that they'd put on him to protect his modesty. Seeing him near naked showed just how much Nathan had changed in the three and a half years since he ran away.

    Back then Nathan had been a six-foot-tall beanpole, which had made him the star of his old High Schools basketball team, preparing to go to college on a basketball scholarship. Now he was still six foot tall but was in no way a beanpole as to say he was muscular would have been one hell of an understatement. Frankly it looked like he had had a body transplant from Arnold Schwarzenegger. While he wasn't into bodybuilding himself – personally he'd never seen the appeal of it, though as he recalled Ben Dixon had been somewhat into it – Rick knew that it should not have been possible, even with the aid of anabolic steroids, for Nathan to have gained this much muscle mass in just three and a half years. Especially as Nathan had a very fast metabolism that made it impossible for him to put any major amount of weight on, no matter how much he ate.

    Beyond his massively, impossibly changed physique he had to wonder what else had happened to Nathan. His cousin had always been a pacifist, far more than he had ever been himself though he had considered himself a pacifist until that fateful space fold dumped the SDF-1 out near Pluto, with even the thought of hurting others being enough to make him feel physically ill. Heck, he knew from Aunt Maria that on more than one occasion Nathan had gotten upset when he'd inadvertently hurt members of either his own or the opposing basketball team during a match. There was certainly no way he would have ever voluntarily climbed into a destroid and piloted it during combat, let alone carried as wicked looking a knife as a kukri or wear a sidearm – even one so bizarrely shaped as like his aunt Nathan had hated guns. For much the same reason as Nathan's father had been shot dead in a drive by shooting a few months before he'd been due to marry Aunt Maria. Uncle Thomas hadn't even been doing anything, just been walking between a car park and a shop to pick up some milk when some crooks – running from the police – had fired into the crowded sidewalk to distract the cops and let them slip away in the ensuing panic.

    Whatever had happened to him he knew it was related to the events three and a half years ago when, during a post-graduation tour of Europe, Nathan had abruptly run away from where he had been staying in Northern Italy with Aunt Maria. Leaving only a note to say he had been called to join a group ending it with saying something that if he remembered right sounded downright freaky and cult-like something about a guy calling himself Vosegus being almighty and the source of all light. Whatever that had meant.

    The sound of the door opening brought him out of his thoughts. He glanced over to see Claudia coming in, she was alone presumably having left Doctor Jackson to begin his work on deciphering the cover stone hieroglyphs. Which would hopefully tell them what the hell that naquada ring was, what its function was and why had their ancestors buried it beneath the Giza plateau all those millennia ago.

    "Hey Claudia," he said in greeting as she closed the door. "Where's Daniel?"

    "He's got to work," Claudia replied as she walked up and looked through the window herself. "God is that really Nathan? What the fuck has happened to him?"

    "It is and I have no idea," Rick answered looking back through the glass. He wasn't surprised that Claudia knew all about Nathan as he knew Roy had told her as Roy had been as shocked and horrified as the rest of them when he'd been told that Nathan had run off to join some kind of cult, leaving his mother – who he had previously been devoted to - alone and frantic in a small town in the foothills of Italy's Dolomite Mountains. As he recalled Pops had had to fly to Italy to get his younger sister and bring the distraught woman home.

    "All I do know is that whatever has happened to him that cult he ran off to join has had to have something to do with it," he added.

    "I still can't believe that Nathan did that," Claudia admitted with a shake of her head, "from what Roy told me he was always so committed to his mother."

    "He was which is why running off like he did and becoming whatever, he is now? It's completely out of character for him."

    "Do you think he was drugged or something," Claudia asked knowing there were any number of drugs in the world that could be used, or rather misused, to make someone vulnerable to suggestions. That number had only grown in the years since the SDF-1 first fell to Earth, bringing with her knowledge of biology that far surpassed anything they'd known before. Though as the existence of the Zentraedi showed they still had a long way to go before they understood even a fraction of the secrets that had been contained within the now half destroyed battlefortress.

    Rick shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted before noticing that the doctor who had been leading the medical team was leaving the secure room and that the rest of the medical team seemed to have finished, but not before restraining Nathan on the bed so he wouldn't be able to escape should he happen to wake up. "But looks like we might be about to get some answers."

    Claudia nodded she had seen the same thing as Rick had. Thus, they both turned to look at the door to the observation room, a moment before it opened, and the doctor came in. She was a relatively short woman with reddish brown hair that was now streaked through with greys, though despite her small stature – or perhaps because of it – she had an extremely commanding, but at the same time matronly, demeanour that would probably make even the toughest soldier bow to her wishes. The door slid closed behind her, and the doctor blinked in surprise clearly having expected only one person to be in the room.

    "Captain Hunter?" she asked.

    "Yes," Rick replied.

    "I'm Doctor Janet Fraiser, CMO of Fort Minotaur," the doctor replied, "may I speak with you a moment it's about your cousin?"

    "It's alright doc you can speak with Claudia here," Rick answered guessing that the doctor was, understandably, reluctant to discuss a family matter with a stranger present. Hence why he hastened to reassure her. "If my brother Roy hadn't been killed in the war Claudia here would have been my sister-in-law by now."

    "Oh, I see," Doctor Fraiser replied looking a little relieved before beginning to deliver her report. "We have finished treating his electrical burns with regen packs. They should be fully healed by this time tomorrow with no scarring. In the process we did a thorough physiological and neurological scan. What they revealed is surprising and very concerning."

    "What do you mean," Rick asked, even as Claudia moved up to flank him before gently slipping a supportive hand into one of his own. Somehow, through woman's intuition perhaps, she knew that Rick was probably not going to like what he was about to hear and would need all the comfort he could get less he suddenly do a very good impression of Mount Vesuvius at Pompeii. Especially as Nathan was one of the few family members that he had left given Mitchell 'Pops' Hunter had died due to a sudden, massive stroke a year before the planned launch date of the SDF-1 and Roy had perished during the Robotech War.

    "Nathan has been biologically altered to an incredible degree," Fraiser explained, "his bones, muscles and connective tissues are considerably denser than that of a normal human being, we have found traces of a synthetic protein complex herculextin in his muscles presumably that was the agent used to either induce rapid hypertrophy or is partially responsible for the increased density. I cannot be sure as the herculextin drug was not meant to be used in this fashion, it was after all created to offset the wasting effects of such diseases as muscular dystrophy."

    "Isn't herculextin highly regulated," Claudia asked, she had some passing familiarity with the drug which had been developed fairly recently having only been licensed for use – under very strict conditions – about six months before the fateful launch of the SDF-1. As she recalled Vince's wife Jean had enthused about it and its potential to help sufferers of muscular dystrophy and other muscle wasting diseases that they could not yet cure.

    "It is," Doctor Fraiser confirmed with a nod. "How whoever used it on Nathan for this purpose, and how they got the drug to produce these kinds of extreme results I don't know as it should not be possible. But that is not all we found."

    "Go on," Rick said with a nod.

    "There are large amounts of unknown biological organism present in every single tissue in his body but with special focus on the neurological system. Whatever it is the organism is dead now, presumably killed by the electric shock, and is both breaking down and being removed by normal metabolic processes."

    "What do you think its purpose was," Rick asked.

    "I am not sure but given that the organism is especially present in the neurological system I suspect that it was some kind of mind altering or mind controlling organism. Almost certainly bioengineered for just that purpose. However, that is not the only thing we found when we scanned the neurological system."

    "What did you find," Rick asked knowing somehow that he wasn't going to like this.

    "Our tests have shown signs that someone, who I do not know as I would like to throttle them for doing it, has used a neuro-somatic imprinter on Nathan."

    Rick frowned. "What's one of those when it's about?" he asked even as Claudia gasped in horror, drawing a worried look from Rick as it was immediately obvious that Claudia knew what a neuro-somatic imprinter was. Knew and was horrified by it.

    "They were found aboard the SDF-1 Rick during the ships reconstruction," Claudia explained, "as far as we understand it, they're devices designed to impart information and possibly even programming into a person's mind. Now that I think about it it's probably what the Robotech Masters used on the Zentraedi to make them into warriors. When it was realized what the things we found were, what they could be used for the Defence Council ordered that they immediately be locked away never to see the light of day again given the potential for misuse that came with them."

    "So, what does it mean for Nathan?"

    "It means captain that he has been programmed," Fraiser said softly, sadly. "Our scans indicate that there is essentially another personality overwritten on top of what his original personality was. It's not erased it, we can still detect the original pattern as the artificial one sticks out like a sore thumb, but it has completely suppressed it."

    "So, Nathan…" Rick started to say before stopping voice choking as he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

    "Isn't Nathan right now," Fraiser finished for him.

    "Is there anything that can be done for him," Rick asked after a moment, glancing back into the examination room where Nathan lay out cold on the bed. "Can the imprint be removed?"

    "It can be erased yes which would in theory allow Nathan's original neural patterns to re-establish themselves," Fraiser told him, "though I will need an imprinter device to reverse the effect and we do not have one here right now."

    "Leave getting one of those to me doctor," Claudia replied knowing that once she explained this to Admiral Gloval one of those imprinters would be on its way here within hours at most. "But something tells me it won't be that simple."

    "No, it won't," Fraiser admitted. "We can remove the imprint and whatever artificial personality its constructed, but Nathan will still remember everything that he did while under its influence. Possibly not all at once but he will remember and that is going to be extremely traumatic."

    "But he'll be himself again," Rick asked.

    "As well as anyone can be in this situation."

    "So, what's our next move," Rick asked.

    "I am going to keep Nathan sedated until the imprinter arrives. It will prevent whoever he is right now from causing us any trouble or make any escape attempts," Fraiser answered before pausing. "I would advise however that we attempt to locate any other family just in case."

    "Aside from me the only family Nathan has is his mother my Aunt Maria," Rick replied. "She lives in a small town in the Rockies an hour or so's drive outside of Denver."

    "We'll have to arrange for someone to go and get her," Claudia commented. "I'll see to that after I am done speaking with the admiral and arranging for the imprinter to be sent here."

    "Thanks Claudia."

    "You're welcome, Rick," Claudia responded before looking back at Doctor Fraiser. "Is there anything else we need to know right now Doctor?"

    "No that's it," the doctor answered, "so if you would excuse me, I need to file my report on this both with Colonel Kowalski and with the Defence Council."

    "Of course, doctor."

    Doctor Fraiser nodded, then turned and left leaving them alone.

    "We should go ourselves Rick," Claudia said softly. "The Council is sure to want your report on the battle a few hours ago."

    "Can you give me a few minutes on my own first Claudia?"

    "Sure, just don't be too long," Claudia replied with a nod. "And Rick if you want to talk about this after…"

    "Thanks Claudia, I'll probably take you up on that."

    Claudia nodded then left the room herself leaving Rick alone. Rick for his part walked up to the window and looked back into the secure examination room, especially focusing on where Nathan lay asleep on the examination bed. To say that he was angry by what had been done to Nathan, one of the gentlest, kindest souls he'd ever known would have been an understatement. For a moment he gave in to the rage and banged hard once on the glass making it momentarily vibrate and producing a loud bang. Closing his eyes he took a few deep breaths, pushing down the fierce Hunter temper as it would do him or Nathan any good to give into it, before opening his eyes again facial features showing no sign of the rage that burned like molten lava in his veins. Silently he vowed that he would find who did this to Nathan…

    …find and kill them.

    ~~//~~

    Lab L10
    Technical Research Section
    Fort Minotaur, That Same Time


    Holding a complex tool in one hand Doctor Mason Prescott carefully unsealed the only one of the gunpods wielded by the modified destroids that attacked which had survived the battle. He had already carefully checked it over for any boobytraps that would prevent it being opened and while there had been one small one – a simple feedback mechanism that would overload the power cell – it had been almost insultingly easy to disarm it. It had honestly seemed like it had just been put there for forms sake and that whoever had created this gunpod hadn't thought it would ever fall into their hands.

    Externally the gunpod looked like any other GU-11 gunpod, it was even made from the same titanium-hypercarbon composite material as a regular GU-11. Internally though Mason was well aware that it would not be normal as instead of firing armour piercing hypervelocity rounds it fired, if their sensor readings were correct that was, some type of plasma energy bolts. He wanted to find out just how it did that as it could give them a few pointers to something that had been eluding them for years now, building viable portable energy rifles for their veritechs and destroids to use in the field.

    A soft click from the gunpod caught his attention and he looked at it in time to see that the seam between the two halves of the weapons housing had opened as he had intended. He put the one tool down and picked up another which carefully let him remove the outer casing revealing the innards of the weapon. He was immediately intrigued by what he saw as just back from the muzzle of the weapon were three barrels that weren't rifled like in a regular GU-11 but were lined with electromagnetic coils. The chamber that the three barrels connected to immediately behind the muzzle was also lined with the coils. Back from the barrels was what he guessed was the chamber that initially generated the plasma used in the bolts which was connected to some kind of large orange crystal that was in the place of the normal ammo pack.

    "Interesting," he muttered as he moved to carefully investigate what he believed to be the plasma generator. It was cylindrical – it would have to be to fit into the GU-11 housing – and made from a material that he didn't recognise. A material that had three series of strange flat crystals – that frankly resembled playing cards in size and shape – that varied in colour from yellow, to blue, to orange spaced along its length.

    Carefully he used a pair of heavy tweezers to remove one of the crystals – a yellow one – from its housing. The crystal surprising him by easily slipping out of the slot with a soft chime. He then carried it over to a sensor and analysis machine, placed it in the sample tray and began an analysis. The machine hummed for a few moments as it ran a series of scans on the crystal before the analysis appeared on a scope style screen that he looked down into.

    "Incredible," he breathed as he beheld the results. The molecular structure of the crystal was laid out like a circuit board one that had to have been deliberately grown into this configuration as this kind of molecular and sub-molecular patterning could not occur in nature. Someone had to have specifically designed and grown the crystal - though how they could so precisely control and manipulate crystal growth he had no idea - to act like a computer chip. A few taps of controls zoomed him in deeper, letting him get a closer look at the structure of the crystal and learning that the patterning and arrangement of the molecules was even more intricate than he had thought. "This is incredible."

    "What's so incredible?" a familiar voice said from behind him making him yelp in surprise before he looked up, to see that Doctor Carter had come into the lab. Her shoulders were shaking in slight mirth at having caught him by surprise like this.

    "Damn it! Sam what are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?" he asked his direct superior, and honestly long-term friend as they had been working together on and off for years now. Ever since Sam had left the old, now long-defunct, US Air Force to fully devote herself and her time to unlocking the secrets of the alien ship that had so dramatically fallen from the sky in mid-1999. The two of them, alongside the likes of Emil Lang and the late Karl Riber, had been instrumental in understanding and reverse engineering the reflex furnace technology that powered the battlefortress. With he himself focusing on the control systems that maintained everything in balance, a tricky thing given the incredible forces and energy levels that were at play inside both reaction chambers.

    "Sorry Mason but you weren't answering your door," Sam replied with a slight smirk, that showed she was really in no way sorry for startling him. "So, I let myself in to find you glued to that scope."

    "Oh right," Mason answered, giving her a look that said he would have some form of vengeance for her trying to give him a heart attack like that.

    "So, what had you so entranced that you didn't even hear the door hailer?"

    Mason smiled. "Take a look," he said standing up and moving away from the scope. Sam raised an eyebrow but humoured him and had a look through the scope herself, blinked and looked even more closely at what she was seeing. Before looking back up.

    "Is that?" Sam asked.

    "Crystal based technology yeah," Mason replied, "somehow, someone has developed the ability to control the growth of crystals so precisely that they're able to use crystals in much the same way we would use computer chips. There are numerous differently coloured crystals inside the plasma gunpod, it's possible that the different colours represent different functions in much the same way we colour code wires."

    "Interesting hypothesis how do you plan to prove it?"

    "I'm going to slowly take the crystals out, noting down where each one was so I can put them back, and run them through the analyser. Hopefully that will teach us a great deal about this technology and how exactly it works."

    "Good," Sam replied.

    "So why did you want to see me, Sam?" Mason asked.

    "I noticed that you hadn't filed any results from the firing tests of the gunpod," Sam replied, "the Defence Council will want to see them when they meet in an hour or two."

    Mason grimaced. "That's because I couldn't do the tests," he admitted, "some of our destroids tried to get the gunpod to fire but it simply won't. Nor will its targeting system automatically sync up with the mecha's. My guess is that there is some kind of security lock in place that means only an authorised destroid or any other battle mecha whoever attacked us has can use the gunpod. It's a sharp contrast to the booby trap built into the gunpod – that was almost laughably easy to disarm."

    "That's strange. Is there anything else you can tell me about the gunpod that I can relay to the council?"

    "Nothing at the moment as I have only just begun examining it. I'll let you know when I have something you can relay Sam."

    "Thanks Mason."

    "You're welcome. By the way have you learned anything more about the ring yet? And what about that damaged modified Spartan?"

    "Nothing more about the ring," Sam admitted, "I am hopeful however that once that laser scanner gets here that Doctor Jackson will be able to reconstruct and read all the hieroglyphs on the cover stones."

    "They're quite badly damaged huh?"

    "Quite a few of them are cracked and chipped. Guess having a few million tons of crashed and derelict Zentraedi warship lying on top of them for nearly a year and a half would have that effect. We're lucky they weren't smashed into a million fragments by the weight."

    "That would have been a nightmare," Mason commented, mentally shivering as he imagined the extent of the jigsaw puzzle putting the cover stones back together would have been. It might even had proven to be impossible, thankfully it hadn't happened and thus with a little bit of time and Doctor Jackson's knowledge of hieroglyphics they would hopefully soon learn about what the ring was. "And the destroid?"

    "I've put Ryan's team on it," Sam replied. "They think they've found the generator and emitters for the shield that the destroid was protected by, but they're not sure yet. It's not helping that the shots from Captain Hunter hit the main power train so there is no energy available at all, they're still unloading the Spartan's conventional armaments."

    "So, it could be a while before they find anything of use."

    "Unfortunately, yes. You know the kind of damage those veritech autocannon rounds do."

    "Yeah, I do," Mason replied, knowing all to well the damage those weapons did. He had been part of the team that had designed the GU-11 gunpods – it was the main reason why he had been tapped to dismantle the Spartan's modified gunpod as he was intimately familiar with the technology they used. "I suppose it's a miracle that they didn't rip the destroid apart."

    "I suspect that that's because the pilot moved at the last moment so instead of hitting the magazines for the chest gun cluster the rounds hit the main power bus."

    "Are the rumours true that the pilot was Captain Hunter's wayward cousin?"

    "I don't know," Sam admitted as she had been too preoccupied overseeing the examination of the ring and arranging for the destroid to be examined to pay much attention to the rumour. "I'll let you get back to work. Let me know the moment you know more about that gunpod and those crystals."

    "No problem, Sam."

    Sam smiled at him once more then she turned and left, heading back to her office and the mountain of paperwork – or rather its modern electronic descendant – that was surely waiting for her by now. Mason watched her go…

    …before turning and getting back to work understanding the gunpod and the crystals contained within it.

    ~~//~~

    United Earth Defence Command
    New Macross City
    A Short Time Later


    "Are you sure a neuro-somatic imprinter has been used on your prisoner?"

    Sitting in the chairman's position UEG Defence Secretary Ian Anderson stared in shocked surprise at the image on the screens of Major Grant, Captain Hunter, and Doctor Fraiser. He was of course familiar with what neuro-somatic imprinters were, he had been informed of their existence when he had taken up his current position, and like everyone else who had heard about them he'd recoiled in horror at the thought of what they could actually be used, or rather misused, for.

    "I am sure mister secretary," Doctor Fraiser replied. "The neural scan is clear there is a different personality in charge of the body than there should be. A personality that has been artificially created and imposed, suppressing the original neural pattern and with it the personality of Nathan Hunter. An in-depth analysis of the neural pattern shows that the original pattern is still there but completely suppressed."

    "So, you are thinking that if the imprint is removed then the original personality will resurface," Anderson asked.

    "She is not wrong," Exedore said softly, "there is a setting on an imprinter that can remove any artificially implanted knowledge or memory and certainly an artificial personality matrix as well. Though to the best of my knowledge the Robotech Masters never actually used it to create an artificial personality, it was one of the few moral boundaries that they refuse to cross and impose it on someone. Modify a personality to be more pliant to whatever they wanted yes but not completely suppress one."

    "Do we have any imprinters in storage," Anderson asked.

    "Over a hundred units were recovered from the SDF-1," Gloval explained, "they are stored in several different high-security locations around the globe. The closest stored units to Fort Minotaur are to the best of my knowledge in an old slate quarry in North Wales. There was another storage facility outside Naples, but it was destroyed when Mount Vesuvius erupted in the aftermath of the Rain."

    "Arrange for one to be sent to Fort Minotaur," Anderson ordered.

    "Yes sir."

    "What interests me is how did Captain Hunter's cousin got exposed to one not to mention how he came to be so dramatically altered," Colonel Matthews said.

    "I suspect sir that it was the cult that he ran off to join three and a half years ago who did it to him," Rick replied, his voice calm but anyone who knew him could see the rage hidden behind his eyes.

    "A cult?" Anderson asked.

    "Yeah, three and a half years ago Nathan and my Aunt Maria were on a post-graduation tour of Europe," Rick explained, "they had been about to go hiking along some of the World War One trails cut into the Dolomites when something happened."

    "What was it," Gloval asked gently, sensing that this was a delicate issue.

    "Nathan went out one evening to a party. When he returned from what Aunt Maria said he was behaving strangely, almost spaced sir," Rick replied, a look of concentration on his face as he tried to remember the events in question. "Aunt Maria thought he'd been slipped ecstasy or some other recreational drug, so she left him in his hotel room to sleep it off. When the next morning came Nathan was gone. He had left a note saying he had been called to join the service of someone called Vosegus who he claimed was almighty and the source of all light."

    "Well that certainly sounds cult-like," Matthews commented with a frown. "Did the Italian authorities search for him?"

    "They did," Rick confirmed. "They didn't find him. They also let slip that it wasn't the first time this had happened in the months before and after Nathan vanished more than a dozen young men and women had vanished in similar circumstances. All of them leaving something behind that referred to this Vosegus character."

    "We did discover a previously unknown biological organism in all of Nathan's bodily tissues but especially focused on the neurological system. I believe it was some kind of mind control agent," Fraiser replied, "or some other conditioning agent. Whatever it was it is dead now, certainly killed by the massive electric shock he suffered, and is leaving the body through normal biological processes."

    "We really need to look into this Vosegus business," Matthews commented.

    "Agreed. Colonel have our intelligence people get to work on finding out anything they can about this Vosegus character," Anderson ordered.

    "I will begin at once sir. I already have people working to find out where the destroids that attacked Fort Minotaur came from, which from what Captain Hunter said is likely related to this Vosegus business."

    "That is concerning," Anderson admitted. "Now onto another related matter. Do we have a damage and casualty assessment for Fort Minotaur?"

    "We do sir," an exhausted, but very unhappy looking, General Micah Richards said from his own screen. He hadn't been happy to get back from the birth of his first grandchild to find that his base had been attacked by unknown hostiles.

    "Please detail it for us general," Anderson ordered.

    Richards nodded and began explaining the extent of the thankfully, relatively light damage and casualties that Fort Minotaur had sustained in the attack. As he spoke and detailed everything every member of the defence council looked at each other silently deciding that whoever was behind the attack on the base – be it this Vosegus or someone else – they had revealed themselves to be a potentially very dangerous enemy.

    One that they would quickly find and eliminate.
     
    Interlude One
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Interlude One

    Hidden Base
    Dolomite Mountains


    Vosegus allowed himself a small smile as he gazed upon the contents of the tank sitting in the main laboratory of the base that he had painstakingly built over the last few decades. Slowly, carefully expanding an ancient, long forgotten mine into a series of chambers and levels that now housed many followers – far more than the small Alpine-style villa he had on the surface could have ever comfortably managed – and everything they and he needed. Everything from barracks to armouries, training rooms to hydroponic and aquaponic facilities allowing them to be completely self-sufficient food production wise. There was also a motor bay housing various vehicles including some of the admittedly quite impressive destroids that the humans of this world had created to battle the Zentraedi – he'd just had to modify a few things and install shielding as unlike his starfaring brethren, Anubis curse them, he didn't have a limitless army to throw at his opponents – as well as laboratories like this one and.

    Calmly he glanced at the readings on the clone floating in its tank. It was almost ready; another few days and the clone would be ready to be decanted from his tank and be ready for him to transfer into. He honestly couldn't wait as this body was really beginning to show and feel its age, even Goa'uld healing abilities had their limits when it came to sustaining a host – especially if like him you didn't have a sarcophagus to help you, when the Goa'uld had ruled here he had not been high-ranked enough to have one – and he had been inhabiting this body for a few centuries now having acquired this host during the early years of the Napoleonic Wars. Excellent, he thought with a smile of pure pleasure, especially as he had been able to tailor make the new body to suit his specifications.

    Something that until a few short years ago would have been impossible. Now though, with the alien cloning technology that he had covertly acquired through both highly placed agents and your average useful idiot, from the SDF-1, it was fully possible. And he had taken full advantage of it to create a host that would be ideally suited to house him for the next couple of centuries at the very least. He looked over at where one of his more scientifically inclined minions was waiting patiently to be noticed.

    "How long until the clone is ready," he asked.

    "The clone will be ready to be decanted within the next two days my lord," the scientist answered, keeping their eyes aimed at the floor. "Once decanted we will need to run some minor but necessary functionality tests but if all those go as they should it will be ready for your august presence within three days."

    "Very good keep me appraised of your progress."

    "Yes, my lord."

    Vosegus took one last look at his soon-to-be host before turning and left the laboratory. Calmly he walked through the corridors of the subterranean base. It took him only a few moments to make his way to his throne room where he made himself comfortable on the throne where he planned to wait for news of the attack on Fort Minotaur. He had sent his best warriors in two waves, with the first wave being personally commanded by the first of their kind – the Jaftari - he had made, to attack the base, seize the Stargate before the UEDF could figure out what it was that had landed in their lap and bring it back here to his current base. While he fully expected them to be victorious he was aware that the attack on the base was a risk, a very big risk as he harboured no illusions about just how powerful the UEDF were and thus how formidable a for they would be. However it was a risk that he felt that he had to take as getting the gate under his control would mean he could finally begin to plan a long delayed, long thought impossible revenge upon Ra and the other System Lords for abandoning him here to die all those millennia ago.

    While he waited for news, be it of success or defeat, he decided to indulge in one of his guilty pleasures. "Elena," he called out.

    Immediately his current lotaur appeared before him. "Yes my lord?" she asked.

    "Bring me a latte you know how I like it."

    "As you wish my lord."

    Vosegus watched with a pleased smile as the very plain looking slave, whose bland looks were completely opposite to her competence, left the throne room to fix him the drink he had requested. He had to admit that he had become quite fond of coffee especially in the last hundred years or so. When he had the chappa'ai in his possession, and was at last able to escape this planet, it was honestly one of the things about Earth that he would miss the most.

    While he waited for Elena to return with his drink, he entertained himself with thoughts of what he would do to the System Lords when he was ready to make his move. It would take awhile to get ready, even though his troops had much better weapons than your average Jaffa – assuming something hadn't changed in that area over his long exile – and would make use of armoured vehicles not to mention battle mecha like the destroids – the one upside of having spent six millennia on this wretched planet was he had learned a great deal about how to properly wage a war – he knew the System Lords would not be defeated and made to bow to him easily. It would therefore be all the sweeter when he finally deposed them and took all their power – and with it control of the Goa'uld Empire – for himself.

    Maybe he would even let them live to serve him as new under lords, much as he had been to Camulus before the great uprising. It would be a fitting punishment for those who had left him here to die.

    The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention and he looked up. To see that Elena was returning with a tray on top of which sat a glass mug filled with the mixture of espresso coffee and steamed milk that was a latte. It had been thoroughly mixed, indicating that the slave had put in the amount of sugar he preferred and had mixed it for him.

    "Your latte my lord," Elena said.

    "Thank you, Elena," he replied taking the glass from her, feeling the familiar warmth of the liquid through the glass. Elena nodded back and moved to stand off to one side, to await his next command or to take the mug away when he was finished. Leaning back against the padding of his throne – making a mental note to get the back cushion replaced as he was starting to feel the springs – Vosegus enjoyed the simple pleasure of drinking his latte.

    He had just finished and handed the mug back to Elena when someone knocked on his throne room door. "Enter," he called, hoping that this was at last news of the attack on Fort Minotaur. The large doors to the throne room opened and the head of his praetorian guard came in.

    "My lord I have news of the attack on Fort Minotaur."

    "Have we been victorious?"

    The guard grimaced, which immediately set alarm bells ringing in Vosegus' head. "I am afraid not my lord," the guard replied at last. "The first attack wave was defeated within minutes; they barely breached the perimeter and entered the base before being overpowered and destroyed."

    Vosegus shot to his feet. "WHAT!" he thundered making both the guard and Elena shake as they could feel their god's anger. "How did this happen?"

    "My lord the bases perimeter defences were far more powerful than we believed including the presence of ion pulse cannons. At least two of our destroids were destroyed before Prime was able to take out the turret that was firing upon them. They then entered the base only for their problems to multiply drastically as they were immediately engaged by some of the bases own destroids, a squadron of Zentraedi battlepods as well as a flight of Valkyrie's."

    Well, that would explain it, Vosegus thought with a mental grimace. While the upgrades he'd made to the destroids whose designs he'd acquired were formidable they were far from invulnerable. He had already come to understand that when the sheer power of robotech weaponry was involved there was nothing that was truly invincible. "I see. And the second wave?"

    "My lord they were forced to turn back and will reach their staging area soon," the guard answered, "no doubt as a response to the initial attack the base had gone to full alert. There was an aggressive combat air patrol of Valkyrie's in place in the airspace around the base, in addition long range scans showed that all the bases surface to air missile and energy batteries had been fully charged. If our transports had attempted to approach the base they would have been shot out of the sky in moments."

    "I see. Make sure those pilots are punished I do not tolerate cowardice in the face of the enemy."

    "But my lord…" the guard started to say only for Vosegus to raise his kara'kesh and fire a low level repulsor blast at the guard, prompting him to scream as he was picked up by the rippling wave of distorted air and slammed hard into the wall next to the door.

    "Do not argue with me again or I will not be so merciful with you next time," Vosegus warned as the guard groaned and picked himself up, wincing indicating that he had gathered a number of bruises.

    "Forgive me my lord."

    "I will this time but if you argue with me again."

    "I understand my lord."

    "Is there anything else?"

    The guard hesitated; he really didn't want to be on the receiving end of his god's wrath again. "I'm afraid so my lord," he said at last. "Our contact in the support staff of the Defence Council has reported that Prime wasn't killed during the attack. Instead, his destroid was disabled, resulting in him both sustaining a massive electric shock due to the main power bus being damaged and being taken unconscious to the base medical facilities. A subsequent examination has revealed the presence of the personality you created for him my lord, there are plans being put into place to remove it."

    "I see," Vosegus replied, inwardly frowning at this news. It was not good news; the electric shock would have certainly killed the variant of the nish'ta organism he used to gather his followers and ensure their initial loyalty. The fact that they had also detected the neural imprint, and were planning to remove it, was also not good and he didn't doubt that they would be able to do so as he knew that there were more neuro-somatic imprinters out there than the two he had acquired via mafia contacts from the storage facility in Naples – well before it was destroyed by the massive eruption of the volcano Vesuvius that had occurred only a few weeks after the Rain of Death. No this was not good news…

    …in fact, it was downright disastrous.

    "Is our contact on the base still uncompromised?" he asked.

    "I believe so my lord."

    "Get in contact with him. He is to infiltrate the medical section of the base once there he is to go to Prime and kill him."

    "As you wish my lord."

    "Now leave me both of you."

    The guard bowed and left, moving quickly sensing the great wrath that was building up inside his lord. Elena did the same leaving Vosegus alone in the throne room. For a few moments the Goa'uld stood there, feeling his rage at this defeat grow stronger and stronger, especially given how it potentially could undo everything that he had worked so hard to build. Oh there was hope that his agent on the base would be able to kill Prime before they removed the personality imprint – allowing the original personality to resurface, a personality that would no longer have any loyalty to him due to the death of the nish'ta and would certainly want revenge for what he had been for the last few years – but he also had to prepare for the possibility that the agent would fail and be either captured or killed, especially as the base was now certainly on a full security alert.

    Just thinking about it made his rage reach a climax and with a roar of pure fury Vosegus raised his kara'kesh and fired a full strength repulsor blast at the far wall. The blast impacted with an explosive crack and triggered an explosion of dust and small stones as part of the wall was pulverized. He fired twice more, carving out a deep crater in the wall before his rage – and a sizeable chunk of his energy as using a kara'kesh so rapidly at such a high setting was extremely draining – was finally spent. On slightly staggering legs he walked back to his throne, sat down, and began to both brood and plan…

    …plan how to deal with this setback and possibly eventually turn it to his advantage.

    ~~//~~

    Ascended Planes
    That Same Time


    Staring at what would, to a human if they'd seen it, appear to be a pool of water in a stone font the ascended being watched the Goa'uld as, his temper tantrum over, he/it sat down on its throne and began to brood. The being was almost amused by what he could sense – even from this place that had been his home for a few years now ever since Oma had helped him ascend – compared to some of the those he had dealt with in his mortal life the Goa'uld was an amateur at creating plans for domination and turning setbacks to his advantage.

    Running a hand through the pool he dismissed the image of the Goa'uld and brought up a new image. One of a familiar – but now badly beat up – ship floating in the middle of a lake. He had honestly been surprised to find that the ship had survived, he had thought it would have been lost forever in the endless void of intergalactic space. But it seemed fate had had other ideas and a race had paid a terrible price in blood for its survival, as had the Zentraedi in point of fact.

    It now fell to him to decide what he should do about it. On one hand he could destroy it, especially what was still hidden deep within it hermetically sealed off from normal space-time by a phase displacement field powered by the very device it was concealing, but on the other hand he could show the people of Earth how to access it and the secrets concealed within that section. Though he had been so far impressed by what he had seen of them, they appeared to be a generally level-headed people and far more forgiving of the Zentraedi for Dolza's attack than any other race he'd ever encountered in his long life would have been, he knew that nobody was truly above temptation. Did he really want to unleash protoculture on this galaxy as he had on the one, he had once called home?

    Given that they would soon certainly unlock the secrets of the Stargate he also had to factor in the fact that the Goa'uld might learn of protoculture, learn of it, and try to take it for themselves. And he shuddered to think what they would do with it if they got their parasitic, eternally power-hungry hands on it. What they could do would make the evil perpetuated from his discovery by Nimuul and the other self-proclaimed Robotech Masters pale into insignificance. Thus, revealing it to the people of Earth would be a terrible risk, but on the other hand the matrix, the flowers, and the other secrets he had hidden in that part of his former flagship would give the Terran race the means to defend themselves properly against any who threatened them be they the Goa'uld, the Robotech Masters or even the Invid who he knew were still endlessly searching for the flowers.

    "Why do I do this to myself," Zor Derelda asked himself with a sigh.

    "Maybe because you are a glutton for punishment," a familiar amused male voice said from behind him.

    "Or it is just the universes way of testing you," an equally familiar female voice added.

    Rolling his eyes slightly Zor turned to see two other ascended beings standing there. Two very familiar ascended beings. "What are you two doing here," he asked gazing at both Oma and Janus.

    "Can't someone just drop in on a friend," Janus asked only to get slapped on the arm by Oma. It naturally didn't hurt him as while they saw each other as physical beings none of them were.

    "Yeah, right pull the other one Janus," Zor replied sarcastically causing the other male ascended being to laugh.

    "Alright, alright I'm just trying to inject a little levity here," Janus complained. "But really we're here for you."

    "You have decision to make Zor," Oma added. "We both thought it would be helpful if you talked it over with us first. Maybe we'll help you find a path that otherwise you would not be able to see."

    "I'd like that. But first let's take this somewhere a bit more comfortable," Zor replied before he waved a hand and suddenly everything around them changed from an ornamental stone font in a garden into a recreation of the living room of the house in Tiresia that he had lived in with his late father Zol, before he'd travelled to Optera, discovered protoculture and inadvertently started something that had set his native galaxy on fire. Silently the three ascended beings found seats and made themselves comfortable…

    …then they began to talk.
     
    Chapter Four
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Four

    Landing Grid
    Fort Minotaur
    Two Days Later

    Sheltering from a light drizzle – something that was not uncommon at this time of the year – under a handy umbrella Rick Hunter watched as the VC33 transport plane – known informally to everyone in the military as a “mom’s kitchen” due to its use as a front-line supply plane during the unification war - came into land on the base’s main runway. While he knew that the planes had VTOL capabilities – with both of its two powerful mid-wing mounted Rolls Royce BR720 turbofan jet engines able to pivot – which was what had made them so useful as a supply plane/evac transport for front line soldiers it wasn’t really the preferred method for landing. He had been waiting for this plane to arrive, or rather he was waiting for someone it was carrying as a passenger along with fresh supplies and equipment for Fort Minotaur including parts to replace the ion pulse turret that had been blown up during the attack two days ago.

    Has it really only been two days, he thought with a mental blink of almost incomprehension that it was so short a time since the base had been attacked; it certainly felt like it had been longer since they’d been attacked by the upgraded destroids, presumably sent by whoever this Vosegus – and wasn’t that a strange name – person was. It felt longer since a lucky shot from him blew the main power bus on the last of the attackers letting them take the pilot prisoner. It most definitely felt much longer than the two days it had been since to his shock and horror the pilot had turned out to be his own wayward cousin Nathan, who had been altered to a seemingly impossible degree by someone with a greater knowledge of bioengineering than anyone Rick knew of while also having his own mind and personality overwritten by an artificial one.

    The device needed to remove said artificial personality had arrived yesterday – transported under heavy guard due to both the fact that it was potentially a very dangerous, easily abused piece of kit as Nathan’s current situation made clear and the fact the European airspace was not exactly the safest place to be right now, EBSIS was really pushing their luck right now as they attempted to intimidate more European nations into joining them instead of staying loyal to the UEG – along with a specialist neuro-scientist, a Doctor Ieuan Johnson, trained to operate the imprinter. Doctor Johnson, and his micronized Zentraedi assist Korilan, had thoroughly reviewed Doctor Fraisers findings and confirmed that they could indeed remove the imprint, and even stimulate Nathan’s original neural patterns to re-establish themselves, but that Nathan – or whoever he was at the moment – would have to be fully conscious when they began the procedure.

    Thus, the medical personnel had taken him off the sedatives that they’d been pumping into him ever since the attack. Though to prevent escape or interference with the device he would remain tied to the bed in numerous locations. The last of the drugs would have finished leaving Nathan’s system so they would be able to begin the erasure procedure as soon as he was awake. Doctor Johnson having already set up the imprinter ready to use with two of the UEDF STORM commandos standing guard – in their distinctive Tristan powered combat armour and carrying Colt PB2 beam rifles – in the room at all times to protect the imprinter. Though Johnson had said he would wait until Rick, and the guest he was waiting for, were present to begin the removal procedure.

    The guest in question was of course his Aunt Maria.

    Rick was honestly looking forward to seeing his father’s younger sister again. While they had spoken quite a few times over the phone during the last eighteen months they hadn’t seen each other face to face in years not really since Pops funeral on the family ranch a place which no longer existed as the firestorms created by the Rain of Death over vast areas of the planet had burned it, like so many other places, to ashes. Rick put the thoughts of the ranch – that until its destruction had been the home of the Hunter family for over a hundred years – out of his mind and instead continued to watch and wait.

    He didn’t have to wait much longer as he could see people walking down the cargo ramp from the now parked aircraft. Most of the people disembarking from the VC33 were military personnel – reinforcements for the base as well as the loading crew who would liaise with base personnel to unload their cargo – but one person stood out amongst them. It was a tall now well into middle-aged, but still relatively fit woman whose once black hair – the same shade as Rick’s own hair – was now laced through with grey and white streaks. It was tied back into a neat bun in the same hairstyle that she’d worn her hair in for as long as he could remember.

    Standing next to her was someone that Rick was not at particularly surprised to see here, considering just how close they had been getting over the last two years. With a slight smile on his lips, relieved to see them both despite the less-than-ideal circumstances that had brought them here, he started walking over to greet them.

    “Lisa, Aunt Maria welcome to Fort Minotaur,” he called in greeting, mentally bracing himself for what he knew would follow from Aunt Maria.

    “Ricky,” Aunt Maria replied loudly in greeting before marching up and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Still standing near the VC33 Rick could see Lisa mouth ‘Ricky’ even as her shoulders shook in sudden laughter at the nickname. It was a nickname that she could see Rick gaining from friends and family members – and possibly even friends at school – as it was more irrelevant than Rick which she knew was short for Richard, though she was also aware that Rick absolutely hated being called Richard.

    “Oh, it’s so good to see you,” Aunt Maria said pulling back and examining her only surviving nephew, he looked so like a shorter – Rick having inherited his mother’s shorter stature alongside her blue eyes – and younger version of her brother dressed in a uniform that just looked right on him, certainly it looked better than that hideous orange jumpsuit he’d worn for the air circus. “You look so handsome in that uniform. I wish Mitch could have seen you.”

    Rick allowed a small, sad, smile to grace his lips at the mention of his father. Even after all this time he still greatly missed his father not just for his unconditional love and support but his kindness and wisdom. Though he didn’t doubt that Mitchell Hunter would have been just as incensed by what had been done to Nathan by Vosegus as he was. “It’s good to see you again Aunt Maria, I just wish it was under better circumstances,” he replied. “I wish he was still here as well… he’d be as pissed as I am about what’s we’ve discovered.”

    “Watch your mouth young man. You’re not too old that I won’t wash your mouth out with soap,” Maria scolded for the language, making Rick wince and cringe – remembering the one time when he’d been eight years old that she had done just that, Roy had thought it hilarious until she did it to him as well - while nearby the listening Lisa chuckled at seeing how well the older woman had her nephew whipped. She’d enjoyed getting to know Maria Hunter during first their flight from Denver to New Macross then the flight here. She’d certainly given her a few more ideas for how to keep a certain, stubborn, loud mouthed and frequently extremely opinionated flyboy in line both when on and off duty. She’d certainly got the feeling that for all that she was unassuming – despite being taller than average – Maria could be a force of nature when she wanted to be. And she definitely had the same fierce temper – which any Zentraedi who’d faced him in battle and managed to survive had learned to fear given that an angry Rick Hunter was not loud as you would expect but instead he was cold, cold and utterly ruthless – that her nephew did.

    “Sorry Aunt Maria.”

    “That’s better,” Maria answered before her expression turned pained. “Did Nathan really lead an attack on this place?”

    “Yes and no,” Rick replied. “Have you been told what we discovered when we examined him?”

    “She has Rick,” Lisa confirmed before looking up at the sky, the clouds were darkening more and the drizzle falling on the base seemed to be threatening to turn into heavier rain. The wind was also picking up a bit, indicating the presence of an approaching storm. Something that meteorology had apparently predicted to happen at some point today though they could not be sure precisely when. “Though before we continue might I suggest we go inside before this drizzle turns into a torrential downpour?”

    “Good idea,” Rick agreed offering his umbrella to his aunt who accepted it with a grateful smile. “Come on the entrance is this way.”

    With that he turned and began to lead the way inside.

    ~~//~~

    Elsewhere
    That Same Time

    The operative was nervous as he carefully moved towards the secure medical wing. It had taken him quite a while to forge a reason for him to be in this section of the base, access to the secure medical wing being strictly controlled due to the sensitivity of some of the work carried out there, but he had finally managed to do it. Of course, that was just the first of the hurdles he would have to overcome to carry out his god’s command to eliminate the captured Prime and get away without compromising his position here. There were numerous other things that had to go just right for this vital mission to be successfully completed.

    Arriving at the first of the two security checkpoints that he would have to pass through the operative presented his ID card and the data card carrying his forged orders to the guard on duty. The guard accepted them without comment, put both in a reader and began carefully scrutinising them and their contents.

    “Is there a problem?” the operative asked, nerves fluttering in his stomach like a swarm of disturbed butterflies. Mentally he prayed to Vosegus for luck and that he would pass through the checkpoint without difficulty. A handful of anxious moments passed while the marine guard, a guard that he didn’t recognize but then he didn’t exactly know everyone on the base in fact he preferred to keep to himself, only interacting with these infidels when he didn’t have a choice. Not that the people here knew that, they assumed that he was just a loner – a belief that he had somewhat encouraged.

    “No problem. Just with the attack we’re being extra careful,” the marine answered before ejecting the card and ID from the reader. “Here you go.” As he spoke the marine tapped a control causing the barrier blocking the corridor to open allowing him access.

    “Thank you,” the operative replied as he accepted them back, before passing through the opened barrier and resuming his journey towards the secure medical section hoping that he would get through the second check point as easily as this one. The marine guard watched him go until he was sure that the other man was out of earshot…

    …then he reached for his radio.

    “Corporal Roberts to security,” he said into the radio.

    “Security go,” came the immediate response.

    “We’ve got a problem.”

    ~~//~~

    Unaware of the conversation beginning behind him the operative continued on his way towards the second and final security checkpoint beyond which were the secure wards and his quarry. Absently he fingered the ring on the middle finger of his right hand, it was completely unremarkable to look at being in appearance a slightly ornate ring of reddish-brown metal. It certainly didn’t look like what it really was, the weapon that he would soon use to kill the captured Prime before hopefully slipping away again.

    Realising what he was doing he stopped fingering the ring just before he came to a bend in the corridor. He rounded the bend, and the second checkpoint came into view. A faint shiver of unease ran down his spine as he saw that this checkpoint was not being manned by a normal marine but that it was being manned by a pair of STORM commandoes. Both were dressed in full Tristan armour and had their helmets on meaning that instead of seeing two human faces all he saw was a silvered visor.

    Both also had their beam rifles aimed right at him.

    “Freeze. Hands up,” one of the commandoes said, the vocaliser in his helmet given his voice a slightly metallic quality making it hard to place his accent.

    “Is there a problem,” the operative asked raising his hands as instructed before crossing them behind his head, using that as cover to tap the hidden button that caused his ring to expand into its true form memory metal components unfolding and locking into place with only the faintest of whirs. “I have authorization to be here.”

    “Actually, you don’t you see while your little forgery is very good you made one tiny mistake,” the commando who had spoken to him replied, “two of the code blocks were out of the correct sequence for this part of the base.”

    “Oh well I will have to watch that in future,” the operative answered before exploding into motion, knowing what his duty to his god now was. Faster than either commando could react he brought his arm down, pointing the weapon at the commando who’d spoken to him and fired sending a pencil thin red energy beam at the armoured man. The beam hit the marine dead on, producing a brilliant flash and making him stagger back but otherwise not hurting him as his armour deflected as much of the blasts energy as possible while dispersing the rest through a complex hypercarbon/titanium nanofiber mesh to dissipate harmlessly leaving the person underneath unharmed.

    It was the only shot he got off.

    Even as the first commando staggered back, knocked momentarily off balance, the second fired his AR2 rifle in his direction. The beam took him high in the shoulder of his gun arm, dropping him to the floor with a scream of pain as fiery agony from the wounded shoulder exploded through his mind. Simultaneously he lost all feeling in his arm and realized instantly that the beam had certainly severed critical nerve endings rendering his arm, and the weapon sitting on top of his middle finger, useless.

    He immediately heard approaching footsteps and knew the two marines were coming to take him prisoner. You’re not taking me, he thought as he ignored the pain as much as he could to start to reach over with his good arm, heading for the button on the weapon that would trigger its self-destruct. His hand never got there as an armoured boot, its force enhanced by nano-muscle servos, kicked the arm hard. Knocking it back and producing an audible crack, along with a new stab of searing agony as his forearm was broken by the imparted force.

    “Oh no you don’t. No killing yourself here,” the marine said sounding irritated before, assisted by the massive strength granted by the nano-muscle servos in the armour – the other marine picked him up and made him stand. He didn’t dignify them with an answer instead he glared at them, inwardly cursing up a storm that they’d dared to stand in the way of his holy orders from Vosegus.

    “What is going on here,” a female voice abruptly asked from behind him. He tried, futilely to resist as the marines turned to find none other than Captain Lisa Hayes standing there looking a little peeved. Standing with her was Captain Hunter and a tall, middle-aged civilian woman.

    “This man tried to reach the secure wards with a forged security pass ma’am,” the same marine who’d spoken earlier replied. “When we stopped him, he attacked us with this,” he held out the weapon that the operative realized, with a jolt, had been taken from his finger though he naturally hadn’t felt it due to the nerve endings to that arm having been severed by laser blast, “it fired some kind of laser though nothing compared to the beams from our rifles. After we stopped him, he attempted to touch a button on it presumably to trigger a self-destruct.”

    “I see,” Lisa said stepping closer and looking at the operative closely. She could see that he was wearing a UEDF uniform, the kind worn by one of the technicians that were everywhere on any base or ship making sure that everything kept working as it should. “Who are you? What did you hope to accomplish?”

    The operative didn’t answer he simply glared at her as to his mind she was just another infidel who was daring to stand in the way of the will of Vosegus.

    “Not feeling talkative,” Lisa asked.

    “He seems like a fanatic ma’am,” the marine answered, “we do however have a good idea what he was here for. There is only one patient in the secure wards at the moment.”

    “You were going to kill my baby,” the civilian woman said stepping forward, anger on her face. That at last prompted an angry outburst from the operative.

    “He’s not your baby,” he snapped, “he’s the Prime of the Jaftari in service of the Great God Vosegus. Who will punish you all for eternity for daring to thwart his will.”

    “A cultist then,” Lisa commented. “Take him to the brig and get the doctors to look at that arm. He’ll be questioned later.”

    “When his wound is treated make sure that they run some blood tests. Tell Doctor Fraiser to look over them and compare them to those taken from Nathan,” Rick added.

    “Will do ma’am, sir,” one of the two marines replied before taking their prisoner away. The other returned to the security checkpoint to let the three of them through.

    “Strange order their Rick,” Lisa commented looking over at Rick. “What are you thinking?”

    “When we first examined Nathan Doctor Fraiser found a previously unknown biological compound saturating all his bodily tissues but especially the neurological system,” Rick explained as they made there way through the checkpoint. “It was dead, presumably killed by the electric shock Nathan received when the Spartan destroid he was piloting was disabled by yours truly. However, given it was focused on the neurological system Doctor Fraiser thinks it could be some kind of mind-altering compound. Maybe a bioengineered mind controlling compound of some kind.”

    Lisa blinked. “You think mister would be assassin is another victim of this compound,” she asked.

    “Given his mention of Vosegus, whoever he really is as I don’t for a second believe that he is a god he wouldn’t need robotech weapons if he was, I would not be surprised,” Rick replied.

    “Rick, are you saying that Nathan was brainwashed somehow?” Maria asked her nephew, suddenly desperately hopeful that that is what had happened to her son. For so long she had wondered why Nathan had so suddenly run away – only leaving a note in his hotel room for her to find that terrible morning when she went to wake him for breakfast – that summer.

    “I’m certain of it, Aunt Maria. He certainly has been beyond brainwashed now with the imposition of an artificial personality,” Rick answered as they arrived at the entrance to the observation room where they could watch the use of the neuro-somatic imprinter on Nathan to remove this ‘Prime’ personality.

    The moment she saw the one-way glass Maria glanced at her nephew, who nodded to confirm that Nathan was in the room on the other side. Feeling rattlesnakes suddenly in her stomach, she slowly approached the window and looked through. Despite having been warned by Lisa during their flight here that Nathan had been extensively biogenetically altered sometime in the last three and a half years the sight that met her eyes still stunned her. The person on the bed looked like someone had taken Nathan’s head and stuck it on the body of Arnold Schwarzenegger during the height of his bodybuilding career. He was tied to the bed with strong bands across his chest, wrists, waist and both his upper and lower legs. Bands that he obviously wasn’t happy about wearing as she could see from the way his muscles kept standing out, and the sheen of sweat he was covered with, that he was trying to break them – trying and failing.

    “Oh, my baby what’s happened to you,” she breathed putting her hand on the glass, even though she knew that he would not see her and probably wouldn’t respond to her anyway given what she had been told had happened, had been done to him. A hand touching her shoulder caught her attention and she looked over to see that Rick had come up without her hearing him, a look of complete understanding on his face. She gave a slight smile back knowing instantly that he understood exactly how she was feeling.

    After a moment she noticed the odd apparatus set up around Nathan’s head. It looked almost like some technological head and neck brace – though a visor was present over his eyes – and was connected by a series of cables to another nearby device. A device that just by looking at it she could tell had not been made on Earth.

    “What’s that around his head,” she asked.

    “It’s the neuro-somatic imprinter,” Rick replied, “it’s what Doctor Johnson will use to remove the artificial personality before stimulating Nathan’s original neural patterns to reassert themselves.”

    “So, he’ll be himself again?”

    “Yes well as well as anyone can be after what he’d been through,” Lisa replied, “he’s probably going to need quite a considerable amount of therapy and emotional support after the artificial personality is removed. Especially as he will remember everything that he did while under its control, that is bound to take a terrible toll on his psyche.”

    Maria’s eyes burned with tears of both anger and sadness. “Oh, my poor boy,” she said looking back through the window to see two new individuals had arrived in the room. One was a short, but very stocky, man with short brown hair. He looked completely unremarkable unlike his companion who was very tall pushing six foot six with mauve coloured skin and purple hair.

    “Who are they,” Maria asked nodding at the two new arrivals.

    “The short stocky one is Doctor Ieuan Johnson he’ll be the one operating the imprinter,” Rick replied, “the tall one is his assistant Korilan – he’s a micronized Zentraedi.”

    “Is that safe?”

    “Perfectly.”

    “They’re beginning the procedure now,” Lisa commented as the two men moved to their positions and got to work.

    It wasn’t much to look at as the parts of the imprinter that were around Nathan’s head lit up and abruptly, he seemed to freeze as though he had been instantly transfixed by the light. For a few minutes nothing more seemed to happen then a laser-like fan of energy began steadily sweeping back and forth across Nathan’s forehead, the beam penetrating into the skull beneath the layers of skin and muscle.

    “What’s that doing,” Maria wondered.

    “As I understand it the beam you see is the imprinter isolating the foundations of the artificial Prime personality and beginning to remove them,” Lisa replied. “Depending on exactly how long the artificial personality has been there and how dominant it has been the process could take anywhere from twenty minutes to three hours to complete.”

    “Once that’s done the last aspects of this ‘Prime’ persona will be gone and then they’ll be able to stimulate Nathan’s original neural patterns to re-emerge,” Rick added having been thoroughly briefed on what the imprinter was going to do to his cousin. “After the procedure’s done he’ll sleep for awhile as his neural pathways recover and are regenerated by a healing energy imparted by the imprinter at the end of the cycle.”

    “And there is nothing we can do in the meantime,” Maria asked.

    “Nothing but wait.”

    Maria nodded and stood there watching and waiting. Nearly two hours passed with the imprinter still running that scan beam back and forth. Until abruptly the scan went static before firing a series of pulses into her son’s head. The reaction was immediate as Nathan stiffened – everyone of his muscles suddenly looking almost like they were going to pop out of his skin – and his mouth opened and while she couldn’t hear it, she didn’t need to, she knew that Nathan was screaming. She started to move, to go in there and stop them hurting him, only for Rick’s hand to shoot out.

    “Don’t,” he said, “I was warned this might happen.”

    “But they’re hurting him,” Maria started to argue with her nephew, despite the situation she was surprised by the amount of strength she could feel in Rick’s arm. It seemed out of proportion for the compact build that Rick had. She wondered if it was true what some people said about the UEDF giving all its military personnel some form of genetic enhancement as a sign-up bonus.

    “They’re not the one who is hurting is the artificial personality as its destroyed,” Rick replied he glanced back into the room to see Nathan had stilled. “See.”

    Maria followed her nephew’s gaze and saw that Nathan was indeed calm again and had stopped screaming. The imprinter was still active though the colour of the beam had changed from a pale red to a soft green. A pulse of brighter light shot along the beam and disappeared into his head. A second pulse followed then a third and a fourth before finally the beam moved again. Running back and forth across his head three times before shutting down the imprinter going dark moments later.

    Through the window they could see Doctor Johnson and Korilan talking for a few moments. Then Doctor Johnson left the room while the Zentraedi began carefully removing the imprinter apparatus from around Nathan’s head. A moment later the door to the observation room opened and Doctor Johnson came in.

    “The artificial personality has been removed,” he said calmly in an accent that Maria couldn’t place but she would bet it was Welsh. It would fit as if she was right Ieuan was a Welsh variant of Ian. “We have successfully restored the patients’ original neural patterns. They are functioning normally though based on my calculations he will sleep for eight or nine hours while his mind gets used to itself again.”

    “But he’ll be alright,” Maria asked.

    “Physically yes. I will have to do a series of cognisance tests when he wakes up to make sure everything is alright but that shouldn’t take long. I will get some medical techs to move him to a proper recovery room.”

    “Thank you doctor. Can I see him?”

    “As soon as we’ve moved him to a recovery room, you’ll be able to see him.”

    “Thank you doctor.”

    “If you’ll excuse me I will start the ball rolling to move him.”

    “Of course,” Maria replied. Doctor Johnson smiled back, then turned and left to begin arranging for the transfer of Nathan Hunter to a room where he could begin to recover from his ordeal. Rick, Maria and Lisa watched him leave before the two Hunter’s turned and gave one another a hug of relief at the knowledge that the removal of the artificial personality had been a success and that while he would no doubt have a long road to go down to recover from his ordeal, they had Nathan back.

    And that was all that mattered.

    ~~//~~

    Hieroglyphics Lab
    A Short Time Later

    Doctor Daniel Jackson smiled as he carefully checked his translation of the hieroglyphics that had been present on the cover stones. It had been a challenging job translating them – not only were the glyphs damaged from the weight of the derelict Zentraedi cruiser, but the dialect they were written in was a very old one even by Ancient Egyptian standards which wasn’t surprising when you considered that these things had been buried beneath the Giza Plateau over six millennia ago – but it had been a challenge he had enjoyed especially as he had learned to use a laser scanner in the process.

    Reaching out he tapped the comm unit on his main workstation. “Doctor Jackson to Doctor Carter.”

    “This is Doctor Carter what is it Daniel,” Samantha Carter answered immediately from the main lab.

    “Sam you better get in here,” he said, “and bring everyone who you think will be interested.”

    “You’ve done it?” Sam asked.

    “I have.”

    “We’ll be right there.”

    ~~//~~

    Five Minutes Later

    Claudia Grant had a slight spring in her step as she arrived at the lab that had been specifically set aside for Doctor Jackson to work on his translation of the cover stone hieroglyphs. She was surprised that the translation had come so relatively quickly, especially given how damaged some of the glyphs were requiring the use of a laser scanner to read them and attempt to reconstruct them in the form of a holographic projection. Though at the same time she was eager to learn just what it was the glyphs meant and if they gave any indication of the nature and purpose of the mysterious naquada ring.

    Entering the lab, she wasn’t surprised to find that a number of other people had arrived before her including many of the scientists who had been attempting – somewhat unsuccessfully – to probe the secrets of the ring. General Richards and Colonel Kowalski were present as well but one person who was present did surprise her somewhat.

    “Lisa this is a surprise,” she said in greeting to her friend and former SDF-1 shipmate. “I would have thought you would be with Rick and his aunt. Did the procedure work on Nathan?”

    “It did take over two hours but the artificial personality is gone,” Lisa replied embracing her best friend from their days on the SDF-1. “Nathan has been moved to a recovery room and is sleeping now. According to Doctor Johnson he could sleep for eight hours or more as his mind recovers from the removal of the imprinted personality and the restoration of his original brainwave patterns. Rick and his aunt are currently sitting with Nathan for a while. If I know Rick, he’ll be there until Nathan wakes up and from what I have seen of her Maria will be as well.”

    “Well, they are Hunters stubbornness run’s deep in that family,” Claudia pointed out.

    “True,” Lisa agreed as they approached the crowd waiting for Doctor Jackson to speak. After a few moments the archaeologist, anthropologist, and linguist – seeing everyone was here, with some people in the form of Admiral Gloval, Minister Exedore, Secretary Anderson, and Commander Breetai attending on holographic screens – stepped forward to speak.

    “Ladies and gentlemen thank you all for assembling here on such short notice,” Daniel said. “As you all know I was asked to come here to translate the hieroglyphs written upon the cover stones of the alien naquada ring. While it was a challenging assignment due to both the fact that the glyphs were damaged and had to be digitally reconstructed and the fact that the dialect, they’re written in is old even by Ancient Egyptian standards, I am pleased to inform you all that this translation has now been completed.”

    “What do they say doctor?” Admiral Gloval asked.

    “The translation says the following “A million years into the skies, sealed and buried for all time the Stargate of the false god Ra. May it never see the light of day again less the false ones return to rule the world again”. The final set of glyphs on the central cover stone after reconstruction are not hieroglyphs at all but a series of seven symbols identical to those on both the pedestal and inner ring of the naquada ring which I believe to be this Stargate.”

    “Stargate,” Breetai muttered before a thoughtful expression appeared on his face, “do you mean star portal?”

    “It reads Stargate commander, but it could easily mean star portal in another dialect,” Daniel replied, “I ran a check of the symbols against known star patterns in both our own and the Zentraedi database. They all converge on a binary star system six hundred light years from here.”

    “Why do you ask if Daniel meant portal commander,” Gloval asked.

    “There is an old, and quite obscure legend among the Zentraedi admiral,” Exedore replied, “one we inherited from our creators the Tirolians or as they are now known the Robotech Masters. This legend states that there was once a technology that translates from ancient Tirolian into star portal. While little information on this legend remains says that these star portals were supposedly devices created by a long gone extremely advanced spacefaring race known only as the Ancients.

    “The portals were planet-based structures that when activated by imputing a series of symbols into a control device would create a stable subspace wormhole between two portals no matter how far apart, they were in space. Any non-full size Zentraedi would then be able to enter the portal and emerge nearly instantly at the portal it had connected to,” Exedore continued. “Unfortunately, due to the passage of time there are no descriptions anywhere in our records of what these star portal devices looked like or what their control device looked like.”

    “Could it be that the Stargate as Daniel calls it and the legendary star portals are one and the same,” Samantha Carter asked after a moment of thoughtful silence.

    “I would say that it is a very real possibility,” Exedore said, “if it is indeed the case that we have discovered one of the star portals, or Stargates, then it is indeed an incredible find. Especially if others still exist and are fully operational either in this galaxy or beyond.”

    “We need to find out,” Gloval pointed out after another few moments of silence. “The question is how.”

    “The most obvious way would be to enter these seven symbols into the pedestal device and see how the ring responds,” Sam pointed out. “We already know that the ring responds to buttons pressed on the control pedestal.”

    “Logical but also dangerous Doctor Carter,” Secretary Anderson pointed out, “there are these false gods to consider whoever, or whatever, they really are. How much of a threat do they present to us? Are they really a threat that we need to confront right now?”

    “It is possible that we might be dealing with one of these false gods already,” Gloval said grimly, “this cult leader who sent those upgraded destroids – which I have to remind you had non-standard defensive technology such as energy shields – to attack Fort Minotaur and clear the way for transport planes loaded with troops to land. All to take this Stargate.”

    “You suspect that this Vosegus is one of these false gods spoken about in the hieroglyphs,” Anderson asked.

    “It would fit,” Gloval replied, “the fact that he sent forces to attempt to capture the ring means he knows exactly what it is.”

    “Plus, Vosegus is the name of an ancient Celtic god of hunting and forestry,” Daniel added recalling the Celtic and other European mythologies he’d studied back when he’d been training to be both an archaeologist and anthropologist. “It is possible that this Vosegus could be an alien of some kind, after all to our distant ancestors a technologically far more advanced alien would be seen to be able to wield magic and could even be perceived to be a god.”

    “Interesting,” Anderson commented. “Doctor Jackson, I hate to impose any more on your time, but would you mind writing up anything you know about this Vosegus. If he is who we are facing, then it means he has been here for a very long time.”

    “It has been a while since I studied Celtic mythology, but I will do what I can sir,” Daniel replied.

    “Thank you doctor,” Anderson answered with a pleased smile.

    “In the meantime, what do we do about the Stargate sir,” Sam asked.

    Anderson looked thoughtful. “It’s clear we need to know more,” he said at last, “however using the gate is something that the entire defence council and the UEG executive need to discuss and decide on. To that end I am going to order only a minimal amount of additional research to be carried out on the gate for now. Try to get it to work but do no more than that until further orders are received.”

    “Understood sir,” Sam acknowledged. She knew some of her fellow researchers wouldn’t like having to wait but she would keep them in line, she had gotten quite experienced at doing that in the years since she’d left the US Air Force after the arrival of the SDF-1 and joined the Robotech Research Group.

    “Does anyone have any questions,” Anderson asked looking at the assembled soldiers and scientists. There were none, for now at least. “Then you all know what to do. Once the council and the executive have their decision, I will let you know. In the meantime, you know what to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few meetings to organise.”

    “Understood sir,” General Richards answered for everyone.

    “Good luck everyone,” Anderson replied before closing the communication down from his end. A moment later Gloval and Exedore also disappeared to begin preparing for their part on the discussions ahead, Breetai following them a moment later.

    “Alright everyone you all know what you need to be doing let’s get to it,” Richards said prompting everyone to begin dispersing back to their assigned workstations with a new enthusiasm – but also a healthy amount of concern – in all their steps. All of them knew, as many had known when the SDF-1 first crashed to Earth thirteen and a half years ago, that the work they were doing here was going to put humanity on the cusp of a new age and bring about the potential for great change. If that change was for the good or the ill was not, could not, be known yet…

    …as always only time would tell.
     
    Interlude Two
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Authors Note: This is probably going to be the last interlude chapter for a bit as it was necessary to cover some loose ends and set in place things for the upcoming main chapters. The next of which I will say will involve the opening of the Stargate for the first time and might even include the first passage through the gate by people from Earth. As to where they end up if it will be Abydos, Heliopolis, or some other world well you’ll have to wait and see.

    ~~~///~~~

    Interlude Two

    Robotech Factory Satellite
    L3 Lagrange Point
    Sol System


    Invisible and intangible to the few hundred Zentraedi and Terrans aboard Zor moved silently through the interior of the gigantic factory satellite – one of the dozens that his people had constructed and spread out throughout their territories, and in the case of this one beyond it given it had been the primary shipyard for the Zentraedi Armada – with a very specific destination in mind. Despite himself he was both shocked and appalled by the state the station was in, everywhere he looked he could see evidence of damage either from combat – since it had been assigned to support the Zentraedi the station had been attacked numerous times by various enemies with the Invid being the most frequent culprit – and the rest from neglect by the Zentraedi crew who naturally did not really know how to maintain and repair the stations systems and technology.

    Something that he knew was by design as the last thing Nimuul and the others like him wanted was for the Zentraedi to get tech savvy enough to potentially turn against them and the Empire. To compensate for this the station had an entire legion of automatic systems that were there to maintain and repair all systems and all sections of the two hundred and fifty-six kilometre long, sixty-eight-kilometre-tall station. Unfortunately, with the passage of time - and crucially the station’s ever decreasing protoculture reserves - many of those systems had either malfunctioned or gone offline completely. With the inevitable results.

    While the power issue was already mostly resolved – in the month or so since it’s capture several shipments of protoculture had been sent up from the SDF-1 restoring the station almost to full power, only another three shipments would be needed for full power restoration – the Terrans – while they had repeatedly displayed an impressive grasp of the fundamental principles of robotechnology and had indeed applied it in ways that had surprised even him – lacked the knowledge to fully restore the station to life. Thankfully for them he could, and would, help them there and the best part was since it involved him doing nothing that he could not have done as a mortal those who ruled the Ascended – and set and enforced the rules that they all had to live by – couldn’t do a thing to stop him. All the frightful old bores could do was scowl in disapproval if they noticed at all – which they probably wouldn’t unless he used his powers as an ascended being too much. Plus, I can always count on Janus, Oma, and a few others to run interference with them for me, if necessary, he thought with the Ascended equivalent of a smug smirk.

    It was at that moment that he arrived at his destination here. A single room in an area of the station set aside for Tirolians only, a section that was currently sealed off from the rest of the station. With a thought he materialized in the appearance that he had back when he was mortal. He took a moment to gain his balance, he wasn’t used to needing to these days since as an ascended being he was usually just energy these days, before moving over to the large, curved console that dominated the centre of the room. A few taps of the console brought it to life, causing holographic screens to blink to life over the console all of them showing the same request for an access code.

    Calmly he entered his personal security override code and immediately all the security lock outs and limits disappeared giving him full access to all systems on the station – including those advanced functions that were normally set aside for Robotech Masters only. Not that those restrictions really applied to him since he, alongside his mentor and long-time friend Cabell, was the principal creator of many of the sciences and technologies that were known by the umbrella term of robotechnology – something that was a never ending source of discussion between himself and those ascended who, like Janus, had been scientists in their mortal lives as the technology he’d created fascinated them as did the Flowers of Life and protoculture as both were one of the few things in the universe that the Ancients had had no knowledge of and thus were completely fascinated by – thus he had master override codes for all of it. Codes that were known only to him and Cabell.

    With full access granted the first thing that he did was make sure that there would be no security records of his presence here as that would only raise questions that he couldn’t answer especially as Breetai and Exedore had no doubt told their allies that he was supposed to be dead. Once that particular issue was dealt with, he began accessing the systems that he had specifically come here to access, specifically the advanced station maintenance and repair functions. All of which were currently offline though it was a relatively simple matter for him to access the operating system for them and thoroughly check for damage to the coding before – finding that the coding was fine and that the systems had only gone offline due to power depletion – resetting the maintenance systems and setting them to work.

    Immediately the screens came to life showing that the stations army of maintenance drones – which had been sitting idle in their docking stations – coming back to life and immediately beginning to move out to deal repairs in order of priority. Simultaneously swarms of nanobots came to life and began working to repair the hull of the station as it had been compromised in a number of areas by the many battles that this place had been through over the years. Zor watched the screens calmly as the order of maintenance and repair tasks appeared with the highest priority repairs indicated in purple while lower priority tasks were orange, blue and yellow. It was a very extensive list, and the computer was estimating that it would take several weeks to complete all station wide repairs.

    I suppose that will have to do, he thought before beginning the second of the two self-appointed tasks that he had come to the station to perform. This one would, if the Robotech Masters ever found out about it, give Nimuul and the others a collective heart attack and no doubt prompt some stupefied, horrified staring from them. Not that he cared about what his former people would have thought about it, especially those who had taken his discoveries and used them to transform the once peaceful, egalitarian Tirolian Republic into the current ruthlessly imperialistic Tirolian Empire. The issue in question was he began systematically removing all the security lockouts and overrides that would have otherwise prevented full access to the stations vast technological and scientific database- instead of the limited access that the Zentraedi had been permitted. With full access – including access to several technologies that he’d kept from the other Masters – the people of this planet and their Zentraedi allies would have a much better chance against the Goa’uld who would certainly move to crush them the moment they became aware of their potential as a threat to their millenniums old rule over this galaxy.

    In no time at all he was finished with his work. He allowed himself a small smile before powering down the console – knowing that further input from him was not necessary – and returned to his natural energy state. Whereupon he teleported himself down to the surface of the planet materialising in the hallway of a small home on the outskirts of New Macross City. The house was quiet and dark, since it was the middle of the night in this particular hemisphere with dawn still hours away and all he could hear was the soft tick-tock of a clock and the muffled roaring of the rain falling outside.

    Which suited him and his purpose just fine.

    Calmly he made his way towards where he knew the bedroom to be, passing though walls be they solid walls of flimsy stud partition walls with equal ease and leaving not even the slightest trace to mark his passage. In no time at all he reached his destination where a well-built man lay asleep on the bed. Without waiting – knowing he wouldn’t have long now before some of the other ascended started noticing his absence from there higher plane of existence – he extended a softly glowing hand and reached into the forehead of the man in much the same way the Asurans would if they were going to interrogate whatever poor organic being had stumbled across their planet. His purpose was similar though he wasn’t about to probe the humans mind – he didn’t need to he had already thoroughly researched him and been very impressed with his accomplishments, especially how quickly he had assimilated and applied the basics of robotechnology – instead he carefully placed an information packet in the unconscious Terran’s subconscious mind then he withdrew. The information packet would take some time to unfurl and make its way up into the conscious mind but when it did it would lead one Doctor Emil Lang to the hidden protoculture matrix, help him understand the basics of how it worked – he wouldn’t give him everything just enough to get him started on understanding the technology – as well as give him a few other potentially useful ideas.

    His tasks completed he teleported himself back to the higher planes appearing in his personal section of the realm of ascended beings, which naturally looked much like the estate in Tiresia where he had lived all his life with his father. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see Oma and Janus waiting for him.

    “Did you do everything you needed to do,” Janus asked.

    “For now,” Zor replied, he had been tempted to do more but knew that he couldn’t not without risking the others catching onto what he was up to and stopping him. “All that is left to do now is watch and hope that I haven’t gone and made things worse – again.”

    “You have always acted with the best of intentions of Zor,” Oma reminded him, “as I told you when I helped you ascend what your people did with your discoveries, the crimes that they have committed against the universe, are not yours to bare. They will answer for their crimes in due time.”

    Zor sighed at the old argument between them. “My head knows that” he admitted. “Nimuul and his siblings bare most of the blame for the perversion of protoculture into a tool of conquest and war. But in my heart, I cannot help but feel responsible. If I’d never found Optera and never met the Regis I would never have learned the secret of the Flower of Life. I would never have created protoculture then they would never have been able to do the things that they’ve done.”

    “You did what you could, with the information that you had at the time,” Janus told him, “that’s all anyone can do, even ascended beings such as us.”

    “I know that but why does that never make me feel any better?”

    “Because you have a good heart,” Oma answered.

    “Now all three of us should put in a few appearances in the usual ascended hangouts,” Janus said bringing an end to the discussion as he knew if he let it continue Zor would beat himself relentlessly over the crimes of his former people and the role he had played in – however inadvertently – helping them perpetuate such evils. It was a common occurrence as Zor still had tremendous guilt for that past, guilt that himself and Oma were slowly but surely helping him overcome. They’d get him over it fully eventually even if it took them a century or two to do it, but then for them – as ascended beings – time had no meaning.

    “The diner or that recreation of a Roman bathhouse?” Oma questioned.

    “The diner I don’t fancy the bathhouse today,” Zor replied with a slight smile.

    “You just want to see me in my waitress get-up.”

    “Well, you have to admit you look good in it Oma,” Janus pointed out causing Zor to laugh and Oma to blush, well as far as a being who was made entirely of energy could blush. Without waiting for the inevitable comeback from Oma, he teleported himself away to the recreation of a 1930’s North American diner that had become quite a popular hang-out place for many of the ascended. Zor and Oma exchanged an amused look at his quick retreat before teleporting after him.

    ~~//~~

    Hidden Base
    Dolomite Mountains, Italy
    A Short Time Later

    Vosegus slowly opened the eyes of his new host body. He was aware that his scientists had wanted to run a few more tests on the clone before he transferred himself into it but fate had had other ideas. His previous host – who he had inhabited since he’d taken the Prussian officer as a host at the Battle of Jena-Auerstedt in 1806, after the French officer he’d been inhabiting at the time was wounded beyond his ability to heal – had abruptly taken a turn for the worst earlier this morning. He’d known instantly that the host would not last out the day, meaning that they hadn’t had time to do the final series of checks that they had been hoping to do on the clone after it had been decanted for a day or so.

    “My lord are you alright,” his lead scientist asked seeing his eyes open.

    “I am fine,” Vosegus replied as he sat up, finding controlling the clones motor functions as effortless as it would be controlling any other host body. Yet there was something different, something that he couldn’t immediately put his fingers on. Then he realized what the problem was, well not so much a problem as something he had not anticipated but now that he really thought about it should have that was unusual. He couldn’t hear the thoughts of his host, couldn’t hear them cursing him from their prison at the back of his mind. It was strange and different, as this body had had no mind before he’d entered it, but something that he was sure he would get used to eventually.

    “No problems controlling the clone my lord?”

    “None whatsoever,” Vosegus answered as he swung his new legs off the edge of the bed and stood up, pleased to find that there was indeed no problem controlling the body of this bioengineered clone body. He took a few moments to look around, noticing the covered gurney that held the lifeless form of what had been his body for the last two hundred and seven years. While it hadn’t been his first choice of a new body to inhabit – he had originally planned to take Napoleon himself as a host when the time came as the man’s military genius would have been highly useful, but it had sadly been not to be fate could on occasion be a right pain in the backside – but it had served him well enough. “Ensure that my previous host’s body is disposed of with dignity.”

    “As you wish my lord. My lord I should inform you that Elena is waiting with some appropriate clothing in the next room.”

    “Excellent. Have we received any word from our operative at Fort Minotaur? Is Prime dead yet?”

    The scientist blanched at the question and alarm bells began going off in Vosegus head. He did not like that look as it meant that once again something had gone wrong, big time. “What has happened,” he demanded as he picked up his kara’kesh from a side table and slipped it on. “Speak.”

    The scientist gulped and took the plunge hoping that he would soon not find himself on the wrong end of his lieges infamous temper. “I am afraid not my lord,” the scientist answered, “our operatives elsewhere indicate that he was captured by a pair of UEDF STORM commandoes.”

    “STORM Commandoes! What were they doing there?” Vosegus demanded knowing that the Special Tactical Operations and Reconnaissance Marine Commandoes were one of the elite special forces of the United Earth Defence Forces drawing their training and members from the top-flight of the pre-Unification Worlds special forces organisations.

    “I am not sure my lord but if I had to guess I would say that they were there to protect the imprinter that has since been used on Prime to remove the persona you created for him.”

    Damn, Vosegus thought with a scowl feeling his rage begin to build, though strangely it was not as instant and fiery as it normally was. A part of him wondered if the fact that his body had had no mind of its own had something to do with it. He would have to ponder that later as he was well aware that his temper was one of the few areas where he was vulnerable – it was not an unknown problem among Goa’uld. Right now, though he had other things to worry about, if they had successfully removed the constructed persona from Prime – which on top of the death of the nish’ta in his system would let the body’s originally personality matrix reassert itself – then the location of this base was compromised. Prime after all knew exactly where this place was and thus the original personality – Nathan something if he remembered right – would know as well – know and certainly tell the people on Fort Minotaur.

    “I see,” he said at last. “Have all senior department leaders meet me in the throne room in ten minutes. In the meantime, I want you to begin preparations to evacuate all critical supplies and equipment to our secondary base in the Urals.”

    “As you wish my lord.”

    Vosegus smiled pleased, before turning and beginning to make his way out of the room to the nearby chamber where Elena would be waiting with a choice of clothing sized for this new body. A body that was taller and more muscular than any body he had inhabited to date. Normally he would spend awhile with his lotaur choosing which set of clothes to wear and which to mix together for that particular day – he was often spoilt for choice as the people of this planet had so many different styles of clothing, and materials to choose from – but today he would not have time. He would just dress in something comfortable and make his way to the throne room where he would have to organise the abandonment and destruction of this base and their transport to their nearest secondary base in the Ural mountains of Western Russia.

    Once that was done, and his minions/worshippers set to work making the appropriate preparations and beginning to carry them out, he would have to sit and start thinking. Thinking about how he was going to both salvage something from this disaster, how he was going to keep his operatives from being discovered by his enemies – as it certainly wouldn’t take the UEDF and UEG long to come up with a blood test capable of detecting the presence of nish’ta in a body – and how he was ultimately going to make those responsible for this pay.

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the dust – I know it was shorter than most are but that can be the nature of interlude chapters such as this one. We will get back to the main story with the next chapter which as I said above will involve the opening of the Stargate for the first time. Though I will also say we have not seen the last of Vosegus he will appear again periodically as he is going to be something of a thorn in their sides especially as where his secondary base is, is located in EBSIS territory - to people not familiar with Robotech EBSIS is a coalition of former and existing communist states opposed to the United Earth Government – though it will be a good couple of chapters before we see him and his minions again. Plus, there are other threats on Earth like Khyron and Zeraal that cannot be forgotten about. Until next time.
     
    Chapter Five
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Five

    Wind Tunnel
    Secure Laboratory Section
    Fort Minotaur


    Standing among a small crowd of dignitaries and base operations staff Major Claudia Grant looked through the permaglass wall at the apparent Stargate sitting at the far end of what had originally been intended to be a wind tunnel, though the massive fan needed for that purpose had yet to be installed. Thus, it made a perfect place to house the Stargate during their first attempts to activate it as nobody – not even the Zentraedi as their knowledge of the stargate or star portal as their legends referred to it was extremely limited – quite knew what would happen when they did so.

    Thus, for safety purposes they’d carefully moved the multi-ton ring shaped device out of the main lab to this large wind tunnel, being placed at one end of the tunnel – where the fan would have been if the tunnel had been finished as originally planned, a plan that had been ditched due to the fact that the factory that would have made the fan having been incinerated in the Rain of Death along with the city in which it had been based – while the smaller pedestal device was at this end of the tunnel. For additional safety only one person was actually in the tunnel to operate the pedestal in this case Doctor Carter herself, and she was also dressed in full hazmat gear – just in case.

    “Is everything ready,” Generals Richards asked looking over at the scientists who were monitoring the feeds from a whole battery of instruments that have been brought in to record this event. Hopefully it won’t turn into something of a damp squib, he thought, mentally crossing his fingers for good luck.

    “Yes, general all recorders and instruments are online and synchronised,” one of the other scientists, a Czech called Radek Zalenka, reported as he checked the instruments one last time. “Doctor Carter has a list of the potential symbol combinations on the computer tablet that she has with her.”

    Listening quietly Claudia smiled as she heard that. Though the central disk-shaped cover stone had been very badly damaged by having the weight of the Zentraedi cruiser pressing down on it – from its position it would have been directly underneath the forward most ventral heavy particle beam turret – being almost completely broken in two with three of the seven symbols damaged. Despite the damage they had been able to recreate the symbols through a combination of a laser scan and a computer comparison to the thirty-seven different symbols that were on the gate and the pedestal device. The fourth and fifth symbols had both come back as being one of three possible symbols, so the computer had carefully assembled the possible sequences in order of probability from most to least likely. I just hope one of the sequences is correct, she thought, as it would be a colossal shame to have gone through all this trouble to gain nothing out of it. Not to mention this Vosegus character attacked us to attempt to steal this stargate from us.

    Mentally she grimaced at the thought of Vosegus. Whoever or whatever he was he had revealed himself to be a very cunning and dangerous opponent, one who didn’t balk at the thought of fundamentally altering someone at a genetic level while also enslaving someone through initially some kind of mind controlling/altering agent and later by implanting a compliant personality into them using a neuro-somatic imprinter. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to learn that much more about him, whoever he was as Nathan Hunter was still sleeping – something that was not unexpected according to both Doctor Johnson and Exedore as it would take time for his brain to fully readapt to the restoration of his original personality matrix – and the operative who had tried to get him and kill him still sat in a cell. They had already determined that – as Rick had guessed – the operative was enslaved by the same mind-altering biological compound as Nathan had been before the imposition of this ‘Prime’ personality. So far, they had yet to figure out just how to get in out of his system without killing him as otherwise the operative was not being cooperative with their interrogation. Instead, he kept saying how his ‘god’ would punish them all for eternity for daring the thwart his will.

    She was brought out of her thoughts by General Richards speaking again. “Doctor Carter this is General Richards begin entering the first sequence,” he ordered.

    “Excited,” Claudia whispered to Daniel who was standing next to her, eyes fixed on the windows and the Stargate ring down the far end of the tunnel.

    “I haven’t been this excited in a long time,” Daniel replied with a smile. He had really enjoyed his time here, translating the hieroglyphs on the cover stones – it had reminded him how much he used to like Egyptology, in the days before rigidly orthodox colleagues had laughed him out of the field for theories that they considered so farfetched that they bordered on blasphemy – and now he hoped there would be a big final pay off with this Stargate thing. If it worked then finally, after twenty years of ridicule and derision by the archaeological community – well what little of it was left after the Rain as it had never been a massive community and its numbers had been decimated during Dolza’s assault – he might at last get vindicated and proven right all along.

    Claudia smiled knowingly before turning her attention back to what was going on around them, as Doctor Carter began entering the first sequence of symbols.

    ~~//~~

    Standing before the pedestal device, wishing she wasn’t in this hazmat suit as the damned thing was hot but understanding why she had to wear it, Samantha Carter took a moment to glance at the computer tablet that she was holding. After carefully checking the first of the possible entry sequences created by the base computer, she searched for the first symbol on the pedestal device and pressed it. Immediately it lit up and a rumbling whirring sound filled the air and she looked up to see the inner ring of the Stargate moving until it stopped at one of the nine chevron-shaped structures spaced equally around the ring. The chevron made a locking motion, like it was scanning the symbol, before stopping and the crystal above it lighting up orange.

    “So far so good,” she muttered before entering the next symbol. Again, the gates inner ring moved until one of the chevrons locked and its crystal lit up. Confidence growing, she worked through the sequence with even the potentially suspect fourth and fifth symbols locking into place and making the gate crystals light up. Mentally crossing her fingers, she entered the last two symbols and watched as the dome in the centre of the pedestal lit up orange. Guessing she needed to do something with it, maybe it was lite a commit button of some kind, she reached out and touched it before pressing down. The dome moved easily…

    …the response from the Stargate was both immediate and absolutely breath-taking.

    Instantly a vibration, almost like an earth tremor ran through the floor around her and the very air itself seemed to shiver with some incredible, ethereal power. With a loud roar a mass of silver-blue energy – looking almost like some of the pictures she’d seen of the initial stages of the lateral blast from Mount Saint Helens during the May 1980 eruption – burst forth from the Stargate expanding several meters out from the ring. Before abruptly dropping back and stabilizing as a shimmering wall of silver-blue energy that looked almost like water.

    “Incredible,” she breathed knowing that she was staring at something that should not be able to exist inside a planetary gravity well yet here it was. She was gazing upon the event horizon of a wormhole, albeit one that looked very different to the whirlpool like appearance of wormholes in popular pre-Rain science fiction. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she realized something then and there…

    … for good or ill their world had just changed again.

    ~~//~~

    Gasps of shock and awe filled the control room as the Stargate burst into life. For a few moments silence reigned in the control room as scientists, soldiers and technicians alike gazed through the permaglass barrier at the shimmering water-like energy field that now filled the inner space of the naquada ring. After a few seconds of awe General Richards shook himself and spoke up.

    “Doctor Zalenka what are we looking at,” he asked making the Czech scientist jump before turning his attention to his instruments. Simultaneously every other scientist in the room with a workstation got to work again – snaping back to their duties.

    “General if these readings are correct, we are indeed looking at a wormhole,” Zalenka replied after a few moments of checking. “How it’s possible for one to exist inside a gravity well like this I have no idea, but it is what we’re looking. Whoever the ancient race who built the gates were they obviously had knowledge way beyond anything we’ve ever even thought of.”

    “Agreed. Send an Eagle through let’s see if we can find out something about what’s on the other side of this thing.”

    “Sending an eagle,” Zalenka confirmed as he entered the command. For a moment nothing more happened then one of the doors to the repurposed wind tunnel opened and let an Eagle reconnaissance drone – which at seventy-two point six centimetres across was the much bigger and heavier brother of the STORM Commandoes Osprey mini-drones, though its larger frame and a protoculture flat cell allowed it to have far better sensors than just a high resolution camera not to mention pack a micro-fold comm aboard allowing remote control from light years away if needed – flew in with a gentle whirring from its six micro tilt-fan engines.

    The drone glided along the length of the wind tunnel until it reached the shimmering wall of the active Stargate and went through. For a few seconds the screens showing telemetry from the Eagle drone went dark then brightened up again as the drone reached its destination and revealed what appeared to be the interior of a bunker. A bunker that was clearly abandoned and it was obvious why…

    …someone, or something, had attacked it.

    It was obvious as well that the initial attack had to have come through the Stargate. Facing the gate on three sides were barricades made out of what looked to be sandbags reinforced with a metallic meshing of some kind. Poking out above the barricades were three of what looked to be hand-operated gatling guns almost identical in appearance to what had been used on Earth when American inventor Richard Gatling first created the weapon that would ultimately spawn machine guns and electrically powered rotary cannons like the 55mm rotary autocannons used in GU-11 gunpods.

    All three barricades showed signs of extensive damage having been blown through in numerous places that had alternately blown apart and – from the cooled rivulets of cooled glass and metal trailing from the impact points – melted right through them. Something that everyone in the military in the room recognised immediately as the tell-tale signature of attacks with directed energy weaponry. Skeletons in strange brown uniforms – that looked like something out of the nineteen forties – lay sprawled on the floor in random locations – some looking like they’d been retreating from the attacker only to be shot in the back – with rifles that looked for all the world like British Lee-Enfield repeater rifles discarded all around.

    “Looks like whoever they were they were in one hell of a fight and lost,” one of the technicians commented.

    “Repeater rifles and first-generation gatling guns against someone with directed energy weapons that isn’t even a fight,” Colonel Kowalski pointed out from his own position in the room. “This was not a battle; this was a slaughter.”

    “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Richards said, “though I agree this does not look good at all. Doctor Zalenka, move the drone deeper into the bunker. Let’s see if we can find out more about what happened here.”

    “Understood moving,” Zalenka replied as he began directing the Eagle drone deeper into the bunker. Beyond the room with the gate – and he noted the pedestal device which was surrounded by its own barricade of sandbags – he found a heavy steel door leading into a wide concrete corridor. The door was lying on the floor, numerous holes – with the characteristic smooth edges of energy weapon inflicted damage – blown through it before it had been blasted off its hinges.

    As the Eagle moved deeper into the complex, they saw more and more evidence of what had to have been one hell of a running firefight between whoever had owned the bunker and their attackers. Skeletons in the same brown uniforms were everywhere, and here and there they could see holes in the reinforced concrete walls some being small projectile impacts, but some were the size of dinner plates and looked to have been inflicted with energy weapons.

    Sombre silence filled the control room as everyone beheld the sight of the futile battle against whoever it was who had attacked the base.

    Eventually the corridors they were going down came to an end at a large open space. A space that clearly looked like it had been meant to be blocked off with a heavy two-inch-thick steel door. Only as with the other door the door in question was lying on the floor and displayed the same damage. Beyond was a wide-open space that definitely looked like a motor pool as several vehicles that looked like an odd version of a Sherman M4 medium tank from World War Two were parked in various garage spaces. Along with what had to be armoured cars and armoured personnel carriers.

    It was here however that they saw the body of one of the attackers. The being was roughly human in size and proportion though his/its face was completely obscured by a helmet that looked like a stylized jackal. What caught attention though was the uniform the dead being was wearing, it was identical to the uniform that Nathan had been wearing when they pulled him out of the disabled Spartan destroid. Though it had extra forearm guards one of which had one of the coiled snake sidearms attached to it. A metallic staff that looked vaguely serpentine lay nearby still partially clutched in the dead alien’s hand. The aliens cause of death was obvious as his entire torso peppered with bullet holes.

    Beyond the motor pool another corridor led to a pair of open doors through which they could see daylight.

    “General we cannot proceed any further,” Zalenka reported, “we are at the edge of the drone control range now.”

    “Very well bring the drone back to the Stargate chamber. Survey anything along the way as there is bound to be far more to this bunker than we’ve seen so far. Doctor have we recordings of the flight so far.”

    “Yes, general we have.”

    “Transfer them to a USB drive please. I will need to present them to the Council.”

    “I will see to it immediately general.”

    ~~//~~

    United Earth Defence Command
    New Macross City
    Three Hours Later


    Sombre silence ruled in the meeting room used by the United Earth Defence Council, every member keeping a respectful silence as they observed the recordings from the Eagle drone sent through the Stargate to the unknown planet. While the video of the Stargate activation was awe inspiring the drone footage of the aftermath of a battle that had clearly been lost by the planets inhabitants was anything bit. Instead, it was deeply saddening as it was clear that while the civilization there had been relatively advanced – from what little they’d seen of them at a level roughly comparable to Earth in the late nineteen thirties or early nineteen forties – they had clearly been no match for whoever had attacked them.

    “Was the drone able to determine anything about who these people were,” Secretary Anderson asked after the footage of the fallen bunker finished playing.

    “Not at present sir,” General Richards answered from the holographic screen displaying his likeness. “Most of the bunker appears to be sealed off by more of the heavy steel blast doors. As you know the Eagle drone is unarmed in its stock configuration like what we have here the only way we will get through those doors to see what’s on the other side – not to mention what’s outside the bunker – is to send people through the Stargate to actually physically take a look.”

    “Are you proposing that we send a team through the Stargate to this planet,” Admiral Gloval asked.

    “I am admiral. We’re going to have to do it at some point anyway if we want to really learn how these gates work and how extensive the network is in our galaxy,” Richards replied. “I see no reason why we should not start now, at least with this planet. We might find records of who it was that attacked the base and that might only help us in dealing with whoever or whatever Vosegus is.”

    “That is quite an assumption to make given only one body has been found so far wearing a similar uniform to what Nathan Hunter was wearing while under the control of the Prime personality matrix,” Colonel Matthews commented, “though I grant it is a relatively fair one and searching the remains of the base and anything around it could indeed be quite beneficial to us. However, if we do this, we do have to consider how we are going to get the investigation team back to Earth as correct me if I am wrong, but we do not yet know Earth’s Stargate address.”

    “True colonel however with access to the navigational star charts my people made while searching for Zor’s vessel and images of the star portal glyphs it should not be that difficult for our navigational computers to determine this planet’s likely coordinates,” Exedore pointed out. “In addition, I can assure the Council that if it is deemed necessary Commander Breetai is fully prepared to dispatch one of our warships to the planet in question. The warship would then, if necessary, be able to retrieve the exploration team from the planet below through the use of a dropship.”

    Silence fell for a few moments as everyone considered what Exedore had just said. “If we do send some of our people through the Stargate to this planet, we should ask Breetai to do that anyway,” Gloval replied after mulling it over, idly fingering his unlit pipe as he did so. “It would be better to have the cruiser there and not need to use it as a return or evacuation transport than need it and the vessel is not there.”

    “It is logical,” Matthews agreed though he looked like he was sucking on a particularly sour lemon as he said that as the logical rational part of his mind was once again at war with his xenophobia and contempt for the Zentraedi. In truth he wished that they had their own ship to send – as to him and those who shared his beliefs it was beyond annoying to be reliant on the good graces of those who just a few years ago would have gleefully killed them all and had certainly had a damned good go at it - but at present none of their ships were capable of space folding, not even the nearly completed SDF-2 which was only at most a few months from going on her first shakedown cruise, though that would soon change.

    Especially since the repair systems on the factory satellite have come back online, he thought recalling the reports that they had gotten this morning. Reports that indicated that at some time in the last few days the Robotech Factory Satellites automatic repair and maintenance systems had come back online. Prompting an army of robotic drones and advanced nanites to begin swarming through every deck and section of the gigantic station repairing and rebuilding as they went. Nobody quite knew what had caused the systems to come back online, though the current working theory was that the last shipment of protoculture sent to the station had pushed things past a critical point and caused the stations computer to reset the repair systems, not that it really mattered. What mattered was that the station would soon be fully operational again and once that was done, they would be able to seriously start rebuilding their space navy with newer and far more powerful ships – ships that would not be held back by the flawed, but at the same time totally understandable, reasoning of pre-Robotech War naval planners and shipwrights.

    Then maybe he would have a chance of convincing the rest of the Council to do away with the Zentraedi.

    He was brought out of his thoughts, and honestly daydreams of finally being able to put down the Zentraedi as the mad dogs they were as who else would murder nearly five billion people whose only crime was to exist, by General Markwell speaking.

    “While we do need to know a bit more about whoever it was who attacked the alien bunker, especially if it gives us some more information on whoever or whatever Vosegus is are we sure we should send people through the Stargate now,” he asked. “We still have enough problems to deal with here on Earth not just with the reconstruction after the Rain, but we have other threats to deal with like EBSIS not to mention the Zentraedi malcontents led by Khyron, Azonia and Zeraal. Do we really need to start going through the Stargate into the wider galaxy? It could conceivable garner far more trouble for us than we either need or can even deal with right now.”

    “I am not proposing we start exploring the entire Stargate network,” Richards said after a few moments of considering the other officers concerns. To be honest he shared them, in reality they all did. “Just that we look at this particular planet in the hope that it could give us more information about what exactly is out there. We know from our Zentraedi friends that there are other spacefaring races in this galaxy, many of whom use naquada possibly as a power source in much the same way we use protoculture. If the people of the planet – whoever they were – used the Stargate on even a semi-regular basis there could be valuable intelligence on those races waiting, there for us to find.”

    “Intelligence that we could use to better prepare our own planetary defences not to mention our space naval forces, when we are able to begin rebuilding them fully, to face any hostile threat,” Gloval added before frowning. “Even if the method of gaining that intelligence does feel a bit like grave robbing.”

    “You all raise some very valid points,” Anderson replied with a frown before looking down as he considered exactly what they should do here. As the chairman of the council, not to mention the secretary of defence the course of action to recommend to the UEG leadership in regard to this matter was at the end of the day his decision to make. “Very well I will recommend that we send a small investigation team, and an appropriate security escort, through the stargate to the alien bunker to Secretary General Michaelson. Whether we proceed or not from their will be at the end of the day her decision. In the meantime, General Richards begin assembling your investigation team and you have authorisation to requisition a full unit of STORM Commandoes if you feel that they will be necessary. However, they are not to go through the gate until the Secretary General makes her decision.”

    “Understood sir,” Richards replied.

    “I will speak with Commander Breetai about preparing one of our ships to fold to the planet in question,” Exedore added. “They will be able to leave as soon as the order to do so is given.”

    “Thank you Exedore.”

    “Your welcome Mister Secretary,” Exedore replied with a smile before the door to the room opened and an aide came in, walked up to Admiral Gloval, and urgently whispered something into his ear. Whatever it was, it was obviously both shocking and important because the Russian man turned to look at the aid in shock and concern.

    “Are you sure,” Gloval asked.

    “Yes, sir we checked the readings three times there is no mistake,” the aid answered.

    “Bring the analysis here immediately.”

    “Aye sir,” the aide acknowledged before leaving to do as he was bid.

    “What is it admiral,” Anderson asked.

    “Mister Secretary our satellites just detected a nuclear explosion somewhere beneath the Dolomite Mountains of Northern Italy,” Gloval answered, drawing looks and gasps of surprise and concern from everyone in the room. “It wasn’t particularly large explosion, barely equivalent to the bomb dropped on Hiroshima during the Second World War. But that isn’t the point…”

    “…the point is there shouldn’t have been any nuclear weapons anywhere near there,” Anderson finished, “even a low yield tactical one like that. How did it get there? Who the hell used it and why?”

    “I have no idea,” Gloval admitted looking grim. “Though given what Captain Hunter said about where his cousin disappeared for three and a half years before resurfacing as Prime, I can think of one likely culprit for the blast. Especially if that is where his base was.”

    “Vosegus.”

    “Yes.”

    A grim silence fell upon the defence council as they all considered this latest, and honestly most concerning, surprise that Vosegus had thrown their way. No doubt he had detonated the nuclear device to destroy a base he was abandoning for some reason – presumably being afraid of what they would be able to learn about it from Nathan Hunter whenever he woke up and assuming he would be mentally and emotionally well enough to be questioned after the ordeal he had been put through by Vosegus – but that was beside the point. The fact that he somehow had nuclear weapons – even low yield tactical level nukes – was a red blaring alarm that rapidly moved him up the threat totem pole from being a relatively minor annoyance to, alongside the likes of Khyron, being a very serious threat to the safety and security of their entire planet. A threat that they still knew far, far too little about…

    …and that was going to have to change and change fast.

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Notes: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust. I hope you all enjoyed it. Now before anyone says anything Vosegus actually doesn’t have access to nuclear weapons – much as he wishes he did – instead he used a Goa’uld explosive device – one of a number of Scarab explosive chests that he has acquired over the centuries from various left over Goa’uld technology caches – to destroy the base beneath the Dolomites that he was abandoning, The sensors on the UEG’s orbiting satellites just read it as a nuclear explosion based on the yield of the blast and the seismic shockwave it generated as they have nothing else to compare the readings to. Of course, it has now moved him up the threat totem pole though he will now not be easy to find as he will go to ground for a while though they don’t know that.

    Finally in the next chapter we will be going through the Stargate to the planet they’ve discovered. What they will actually find there when they explore the battle damaged ‘alien’ bunker – and what is beyond it as they’re not going to stay in there – well you will have to wait and see. Until next time.
     
    Chapter Six
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Six

    Secure Medical Section
    Fort Minotaur

    Maria Hunter looked up from where she was sitting at her son’s bedside at the sound of approaching footsteps. She wondered if it was one of the nurses or another member of the base medical staff coming to check on Nathan’s progress as the last time Doctor Johnson had looked at his neural scan, he’d told both her and Rick that Nathan could wake up at any time now. However, it wasn’t a nurse or anyone like that, it was just her nephew returning from wherever it was he had been called off to about an hour or so earlier. He looked concerned about something though he was also holding two mugs that from the steam rising from them and the smell contained coffee.

    “Welcome back,” she said in greeting as he arrived and held out one of the mugs for her to take. “Thank you, Rick. Milk and two sugars, right?”

    “Yeah, I remember just how you like your coffee Aunt Maria,” Rick replied as he sat down in another chair. “Anything?”

    “Doctor Johnson came in and checked him just after you were called away,” she answered. “According to him the latest neural scans show Nathan could wake up anytime now.”

    “So, it’s a waiting game again.”

    “Unfortunately. Though if I can ask why were you called away? Assuming you can tell me.”

    Rick frowned slightly and took a swig of his coffee. He honestly wasn’t sure if he could tell his aunt about it but then again, the news media were soon going to learn about a large underground explosion in the Dolomites and it wouldn’t take them long to realize what caused it. Enough independent experts survived in the world to confirm that the explosion was nuclear in origin or at least looked nuclear. Plus, there was EBSIS who had also detected it and were already screaming murder about it accusing the UEG of illegal underground weapons testing and other such political bullshit. They would no doubt brief the worlds media on it and there were enough anti-UEG media outlets out there still – all of whom had access to the steadily being rebuilt internet – to let the whole world know what had just taken place.

    Thus, there was no reason for him not to tell her.

    “I can,” he said at last. “Sensors on our orbital satellites detected a small-scale nuclear explosion, roughly comparable in strength to the Little Boy bomb dropped on Hiroshima, beneath the Dolomites. Ground based seismometers registered it a few seconds later. We’ve determined that it came from somewhere beneath Marmolada.”

    Maria blinked. “Someone detonated a nuke beneath the highest peak in the Dolomites,” she asked incredulous, vaguely remembering that she and Nathan had planned to climb the Marmolada during their trip to Italy, after exploring the old World War One trails that the Italians had cut into the very rock of the mountains, as they were both were – or in her case had been as she was a bit too old for it now, the ravages of time in the form of arthritis beginning to take their toll, years of worrying about Nathan and the surprise death of her brother to a previously unknown heart condition hadn’t helped there either – keen and experienced mountaineers. Well until Nathan ran away – which she now knew to be the result of some kind of mind altering/controlling biological organism that he’d been infected with presumably when he’d gone to that disco/party the night before he vanished – to serve whoever this Vosegus character was.

    “It looks like it,” Rick confirmed. “The working theory is that Vosegus – whoever or whatever he is – is behind it, probably to destroy whatever base he had hidden there as he had to know that we would find it eventually, though we cannot be certain. Though its really set off a political shitstorm both within the UEG and with those independent groups like EBSIS.”

    “Maybe it was part of his plan? Cause chaos while going to hide somewhere else,” Maria suggested though she didn’t comment on how they would have eventually found the bases location. That was obvious as they would simply ask Nathan as she was sure that, if he were well enough, her son would have to answer some questions about what had been going on these last three and a half years with him and with Vosegus.

    “Very likely. I know that possibility has occurred to Admiral Gloval. The council will look into it.”

    “You respect Admiral Gloval a great deal, don’t you Rick. I can hear it in your voice.”

    “Yeah, I do all of us who were on the SDF-1 – either because they were assigned there or like me and the citizens of Macross City got caught in the space fold and dumped out near Pluto – do. Because he earned it as I don’t think anyone else would have been able to get us back to Earth in the way he did not with an entire fleet of Zentraedi warships in the way. He’s a good man, tough as hell, ruthless in the way only Russians can really be when he wants to be but compassionate and fair.”

    “You’ll have to tell me a bit more about that voyage I don’t know anything really about it. Hell until just after the Rain I thought that…”

    “… that I and everyone who was on Macross Island was dead,” Rick finished for her, “you can blame the late, and very unlamented by just about everyone, Senator Russo, and his cronies for that. They wanted to hide the fact that we were attacked by the Zentraedi to a) avoid causing a panic and b) to buy time to finish their white elephant Grand Cannon projects.”

    “Politicians,” Maria said with a snort, letting the distain she’d long had for politicians show in her voice. Rick chuckled at her response and was about to reply when a soft groan from the direction of the bed caught both their attention. Both their eyes shot to the bed…

    …just in time to see Nathan open his eyes. Before abruptly shutting them again as he was suddenly dazzled by the overhead lights.

    “Ooh bright light, bright light,” he said a hint of humour in his voice, making both Rick and Maria chuckle as he sounded so Gizmo from the Gremlins movies. Obviously despite everything he’d been through Nathan’s sense of humour – which according to his mother he’d inherited from his father – was still intact. At the sound of their chuckles Nathan looked over and blinked. “Mom? Rick?”

    “Yes, we’re here,” Maria replied with a smile even as Nathan raised a hand to shield his eyes from the overhead lights, only to pause gazing in shock as he saw his arm.

    “What, what’s happened to me,” Nathan breathed, before looking back at them again. “Where am I? And Rick you’re in a uniform! I thought you said you would never join the military?”

    “You’re in a recovery room in the infirmary of a military base on Crete,” Rick answered, “and I know I said that, but life has away of changing all your plans, so does getting dumped out by Pluto in a battlefortress with seventy four thousand other people and having to fight against a thousand ship strong alien armada across the length of the solar system to get back home after your fold drive mysteriously goes bye-bye.”

    “Huh when was this?” Nathan asked confused as he didn’t remember any of this. “And does it have something to do with me suddenly looking like I’ve had a body transplant from Arnold Schwarzenegger?”

    Rick and Maria exchanged a look. “What’s the last thing you remember baby?” Maria asked, making her son pout slightly at being referred to as baby. She knew he hated it when she did that not that she was going to stop as no matter what had happened to him, what he’d been through or how big he was Nathan was and always would be her baby and that’s all there was to it.

    Nathan frowned puzzled by the question. “I went to that party at the nightclub I was invited to. I remember drinking a lot like you do. Someone must have slipped me something when I got tipsy as I remember feeling euphoric and…” his voice trailed off as he was suddenly assault by a barrage of images, memories, and feelings. They were his and yet not his at the same time and swept through his mind like a flood making it impossible for him to ignore them.

    “What’s happening,” Maria demanded looking at her nephew as Nathan’s eyes abruptly shut and he suddenly started gripping the sheet on the bed with a white-knuckle grip. Behind his eyelids she could see his eyes moving rapidly and his breathing was getting faster too.

    “I can’t be sure, but I think he’s remembering everything that’s happened to him over the last three and a half years,” Rick answered a moment before Nathan abruptly screamed and writhed on the bed as though he was in tremendous pain. It only lasted for a moment or two before he went still but maintained his death grip on the bedsheet before his back arched again and he began talking in a language neither of them had ever heard before. Though that ended a few seconds later being replaced by shaking and shivering before he seemed to calm.

    Nathan’s eyes opened again. “Mommy,” he breathed sounding like a small, frightened child and not the six-foot tall two hundred- and thirty-five-pound man that he now was. His expressive green eyes shining with tears of pain, humiliation, rage, shame, and regret.

    “It’s okay Nathan,” Maria said standing up and moving to sit on the side of the bed. Gently she reached over and pulled him over to her, letting him bury his head in her lap. “It’s over now, your safe, Vosegus cannot hurt or use you anymore.”

    At her words the floodgates opened, and Nathan began to weep. Maria gently wrapped her arms around him, comforting him as she had done ever since he was a small child. Rick for his part reached out and put a comforting hand on his cousin’s arm. Neither said anything, they didn’t need, to nor was there really anything that they could say, all they could do was what they were doing and offer as much support and comfort as was possible while Nathan cried out his grief and humiliation.

    After what seemed like hours the tears slowed and then finally stopped. Nathan slipping back into an exhausted sleep. Maria gently laid him back on the bed, stood up and placed the sheet back over him. Then she stood there and just watched him sleep, her own emotions churning as she gazed upon his reddened, tear-streaked face. It was going to take him a long time to really recover from this, if he ever truly could, and that infuriated her to no end. After a moment she felt Rick’s hand touch her shoulder.

    “Rick, I want you to promise me something,” she said at last voice thick with numerous emotions. “Find this Vosegus character whoever he is, whatever he is and wherever he’s hiding. Find him and kill him for what he’s done.”

    “Oh, you can bet I will Aunt Maria,” Rick answered as his expressive blue eyes – normally so full of kindness and warmth – turned colder than artic ice as he let his own anger and hatred for the person/being/whatever who had done this to Nathan – and who knew how many others - show. “I will find him, and I will kill him.”

    ~~//~~

    Wind Tunnel
    Fort Minotaur
    A Few Hours Later

    Dressed in Tristan powered armour Colonel Louis Ferretti would admit, if asked, to being slightly nervous as he gazed down the length of the repurposed wind tunnel at the Stargate. He had seen and done a lot over the course of his military career, first in the US Air Force and then in the STORM Commandoes after they’d been formed, but he would admit that the prospect of walking through an alien device and being instantaneously transported to another planet six hundred light years away made him slightly - well alright more than slightly – nervous. He was also worried that by going through this thing, by opening this doorway to other worlds if the Zentraedi legends about these Stargates/Star Portals were true, that they could be opening another Pandora’s Box. And do we really need to do that, he thought, after all we are still dealing with the aftermath of the first one.

    After a moment he mentally shrugged. It really wasn’t his place to question why the top brass had decided to go ahead with this mission through the gate – a mission that was also going to see a Zentraedi cruiser dispatched from Breetai’s remaining fleet to the orbit of the planet they were going to as backup in case they needed it – he just had to lead it and do the best he could to get his people back alive. At least they were going through in full armour and weapons and not unarmed as some of the more peacenik members of the UEG had wanted. As he heard it both Admiral Gloval and General Maistroff had put their foot down on that issue and the peaceniks weren’t strong enough politically to ignore either of those two heavyweights.

    “Colonel Ferretti are you and your team ready,” General Richards voice abruptly said over his helmet speakers. Ferretti gazed at the other members of his twelve man squad, all of whom nodded in agreement as did the scientists and technicians – who looked so small in their armoured environmental suits which were naturally much lighter and less resilient to damage than the Tristan was – who would be accompanying them.

    “Yes, sir we are,” he replied into his radio after a moment.

    “Excellent,” Richards replied before obviously switching to the PA system. “Doctor Carter if you wouldn’t mind entering the coordinates again.”

    “Understood,” Carter replied from where she was standing by the control pedestal. Ferretti found himself wishing that she was coming with him, having been a captain in the US Air Force before the arrival of the SDF-1 and having done combat tours in Iraq she knew how to handle herself in a fight should they end up in one. Sadly, she would not be coming, being needed here on Fort Minotaur to continue research into both the Stargate and the modified destroids that had attacked the base a few days ago. Truth be told he was also wishing that Doctor Jackson was coming with them, the archaeologist had had quite a hard life since he’d been laughed out of academia in the pre-Rain days and there was something about him that said he could handle himself just fine in a fight, as his skills and knowledge of ancient cultures could be useful but sadly he wasn’t.

    Instead, he turned his full attention back to the Stargate and watched as it began to turn and one by one the chevrons locked and lit up. It really was an amazing thing to look at and think about. That millions of years ago some ancient, now long gone alien race, had created these devices. Devices that by creating stable, traversable wormholes in a planetary atmosphere and gravity well in the way they did defied the laws of physics as they currently understood them. Not even the revelations that had come with reverse engineering robotechnology from the SDF-1 had challenged their understanding of physics to quite the same level as these things did. Which was saying something as what they had learned from the SDF-1 had opened up fields of science and engineering that had never been discovered, let alone explored, before that ship fell out of the sky back in ninety-nine.

    The Stargate roared to life a silver-blue explosion of energy erupting from it and coming halfway towards them before abruptly dropping back and stabilizing into a shimmering water-like curtain of silver-blue energy. Okay I have to admit that’s a pretty impressive effect, he thought with a slight smile. Which naturally nobody could see through the opaque faceplate of his helmet.

    “Alright people move out,” he said into the shared radio frequency. “We’ll go through two-by-two and make sure that you’re on your guard when we get through. Even with the footage from the Eagle drone we don’t know exactly what kind of situation we’ll be walking into.”

    “Sir yes sir,” the other commandoes acknowledged followed by more muted understood from their little gaggle of scientists and technicians. Taking the lead Ferretti brought his rifle up to the ready position – taking a moment to marvel once again that he was holding an actual laser rifle instead of the P90 he would have used just a few short years ago – and began advancing slowly, cautiously towards the Stargate. The HUD in his helmet showing another commando – identified by his Tristan’s ID as Captain Julian Chandler – walking beside him. The rest of the squad and the scientists following closely behind them.

    In seconds he was face to face with the event horizon of the wormhole. He took a few moments to collect himself and steady his nerves. Then he resolutely stepped forward and crossed the event horizon and the world went crazy…

    … suddenly he was travelling down a twisting ethereal tunnel of bluish-green light. Beyond which he could see stars, moons and planets streaking by at impossible speed. Pulses of energy in the shape of the Stargate’s outer ring chevrons pulsed along the conduit at regular intervals, while the conduit itself twisted and turned in all directions and at angles that would have given even the craziest rollercoaster designers nightmares. All the time there was the feeling to tremendous speed yet paradoxically no sense of any gee forces affecting him. The tunnel/conduit thing straightened out and ahead came a brilliant point of light. The light enveloped him…

    …and suddenly he was stepping out the gate on a planet six hundred light years from his own.

    “Whoa now that was a rush,” Chandler said from beside him as they cautiously moved down a concrete ramp to the ground level.

    “It was,” Ferretti agreed as they reached the bottom of the ramp. As they did so he heard a strange slurping sound and the ID’s of the next two commandoes in his squad appeared as they finished transiting the Stargate. While he waited for the rest of the team to arrive themselves, he carefully swept the room, eyes and rifle sweeping by sectors looking for any and all potential threats.

    Naturally there were none.

    What he did see however was the same evidence of the battle that had taken place here as the Eagle drone had seen. Somehow seeing it in person like this, seeing the skeletons wearing odd brown uniforms laying sprawled where they’d fallen cut down by unknown alien energy weapons, was even more disturbing than it had been on the recording. Plus, he could see things that the drone had missed like the shell casings littering the floor like metallic confetti, which confirmed that whoever the people who had been here had been they’d put up one hell of a fight against whoever or whatever had attacked them. We really should do something for these poor people’s remains, he thought sadly gazing at the bodies. Given the skeletal state of the remains it was obvious that it would be a tricky thing to do, but they’d do if when they had the chance if only to give these dead soldiers the peace their souls deserved.

    “Jesus I’m surprised nobodies cleaned up these bodies,” Chandler commented as the last of their expedition team came through the gate from Earth. A moment later the gate shut down with a momentary flash of vapour as the wormhole disappeared. “Surely there are people on this planet who would honour the sacrifice of the dead and give these people a proper burial or whatever other funerary rites are appropriate for this culture.”

    “Maybe nobody has because nobodies left alive on this planet,” one of the scientists, his ID indicating a Doctor Peter Hall, commented. “Whoever attacked this place might not just have attacked through the Stargate. They could have attacked from orbit as well.”

    “You mean done to this planet what Dolza tried to do to us Doctor,” one of the techs asked.

    “Yes.”

    “Well, that’s a cherry thought,” Chandler commented even though he knew it was the most likely outcome as anybody advanced enough to have energy weapons like the ones that had to have been used here would be advanced enough to have fold capable starships. Thus, it would have been incredibly easy, not to mention logical, for them to have brought warships into orbit to bombard the planet from space. It was certainly what they would have done if they’d wanted to attack a planet, though they would never gone to the extent that Dolza did during the Rain of Death. Having been on the receiving end of one themselves they would never subject a people or a planet to such a devastating bombardment.

    “It’s also quite idle speculation at this point in time,” Ferretti said bringing an end to the quite morbid discussion. “The Zentraedi cruiser dispatched to support us by Commander Breetai will arrive in orbit in about half an hour. I want to have something to report to her captain when they arrive that can be relayed back to Earth. So here is what we are going to do. We know that there is far more to this place than what the Eagle drone was able to investigate, areas and sections sealed off by heavy steel doors. We will split into two teams and begin investigating the rest of this bunker, see if we can find out more about who these people were, what they knew about the Stargate and anything on the people who attacked and defeated them.

    “Doctor Hall, Technician Grayson you two and six commandoes will come with me,” he continued using a small control panel on his left vambrace to designate who would be going with who, “the rest of you will be with Captain Chandler. I want radio checks every five minutes, just because this place looks abandoned after the attack doesn’t necessarily mean that there are no dangers here. Any questions?”

    “Should we not leave someone here to watch the Stargate?” Doctor Hall suggested.

    “There isn’t any need for that doc,” Ferretti replied before gestured to something above Hall. “Our little friend there will watch the gate and alert us if it activates. It auto synced up to my armour’s computer when we came through the gate.”

    Hall blinked, wondering what Ferretti was getting at, before looking up to see the Eagle drone sent through yesterday still here floating like a silent sentry above the gate. How is that thing still working, he thought until he remembered that the Eagle drone used a protoculture flat cell as a power source and not a polycrystalline battery. It could stay operational for several days if needs be before the cell would need to be replaced.

    “I forgot the Eagle drones use protoculture as a power source,” he admitted looking a little sheepish.

    “That’s easily done if you’re not used to working with them,” Ferretti replied with a smile. “And it was a fair question, nevertheless. Does anyone have any more questions?”

    “Sir no sir,” the commandoes all chorused. The scientists and the technicians for their part merely shook their heads to indicate that they had no questions.

    “Alright then we all know what we’re supposed to be doing so let’s get to it.”

    ~~//~~

    Planetary Orbit
    Half Hour Later

    High above the orbit of the planet a section of space suddenly rippled with a heat haze like shimmer. Space the size of a quark warped alarming as the barrier that separated normal space from hyperspace came under sudden, massive attack from within. The warp expanded until a tiny ball of light – roughly comparable in size to a tennis ball – materialized in normal space. In moments the sphere expanded till it was over four kilometres in diameter and to a casual observer would have looked like a whirling ball of golden frosted glass. Within the sphere a shape began to form, skeletal and indistinct at first before rapidly solidifying as the ship fully integrated into normal space-time. With a gyroscopic flash of blue Cherenkov radiation, the fold sphere evaporated leaving the vessel floating free in orbit.

    The cruiser dispatched by Commander Breetai had arrived and it did not go unnoticed.

    Sitting in orbit, hidden from both the naked eye and sensors by a field that put it slightly out of phase with normal space-time, a small satellite immediately detected the arrival of an unknown alien vessel. A vessel that did not match any design known to its masters, nor did its means of arrival match anything in their database. For a few moments the satellites computer deliberated on what to do, running through a number of different decision trees and logic matrices to determine the correct course of action.

    Finally, after ninety seconds of considering the issue the decision matrix came up with a solution. A small but highly advanced engine powered up and the satellite began moving closer to the unknown vessel. Invisible beams of subspace energy reached out from sensor arrays on the satellite and began to probe the mysteries of the unknown ship ready to report them to its masters when the time was right.

    ~~//~~

    Bridge
    Zentraedi Cruiser
    That Same Time


    “Defold operation complete sir.”

    Standing in his command blister Captain Serval, formerly of the Imperial Zentraedi Forces and now a proud member of Breetai’s Free Zentraedi Forces, smiled at the report from helm control. He was pleased to find that their period of time sitting in orbit above the Terran homeworld hadn’t done anything to impede his crews operating efficiency. Especially given the distracting effect that micronian culture – with its strange allures and revelations that it was possible to have a life without being at war all the time – could have upon the Zentraedi.

    He was pleased to note that if anything, learning some of the Terran methods of passing the time, had done wonders to improve efficiency aboard ship. As had the fact that while understandably mostly focused on repairing their planet after Dolza’s assault the Terrans had taken the time to teach the Zentraedi how to maintain and repair they’re technology properly instead of relying completely on automated systems that had been malfunctioning more and more often – or stopping altogether – as their supplies of protoculture fuel had dwindled. Something that was worth allying with them to learn on its own as its knowledge that the Robotech Masters, for reasons known only to themselves, had never let the Zentraedi have.

    “Very good. Navigation, take us into a standard orbit please. Sensors begin running scans of the planet’s surface. Communications attempt to contact the Terran team on the surface,” Serval ordered. “See if you can determine their status.”

    “Yes sir,” came the response from the appropriate consoles on the lower level of the bridge.

    While his crew set about their tasks Serval turned his attention to the holographic screen floating in a projector field that showed an image of the planet that they were entering orbit of. Even from orbit it was immediately obvious that something had gone seriously wrong for the planet and that it had likely been attacked from space. There were vast areas of desert present where there should not have been deserts and he could see evidence of craters on the surface through the clouds. Craters that from their size and distribution patterns could only have been made by someone firing at the planet from orbit.

    “Preliminary scans of the planet complete sir,” sensors reported, “sensors indicate that the planet has been subjected to a sustained bombardment from orbit. We are detecting heavily damaged remains of urban areas as well as indications that numerous fault lines and volcanic systems were deliberately targeted.”

    “Any radiation?” Serval asked, “and is their any indication of how long ago this bombardment took place and what weapons might have been used.”

    “We are picking up very limited amounts of radiation sir. Not enough to be harmful long term. Residual patterns in the impact craters indicate that the planet was bombed from orbit with some type of plasma-based energy weapon. While we cannot be certain as we do not have any information on the exact weapon used, I believe that the bombardment took place sometime within the last decade. I am sorry but without knowing more about the weapons used we cannot be any more precise than that.”

    “Any sign of survivors?”

    “I believe so we are picking up some clusters of micronian life signs in some of the more remote areas of the planet along with some indications of campfires burning. Curious.”

    “How so?”

    “The campfires we’re detecting are burning much hotter than would be expected,” the other Zentraedi replied with a puzzled frown, giving interrogative commands to his console. “They’re also emitting an energy signature that I am sure we have seen before stand by… confirmed sir the energy signature matches sekitan being burned.”

    “Sekitan! Here? Confirm that.”

    Like only a few of his fellows Serval knew exactly what sekitan was. It was a coal-like ore found on numerous worlds across their native galaxy though the largest known deposits of it were known to be in the region of space claimed by the Karbarran Commonwealth. Like coal sekitan could be burned for heat and to produce energy but unlike regular coal when burned it released small amounts of a type of subatomic particle that could not exist in normal space for more than a few seconds before it broke down releasing additional heat, energy, and very small amounts of antimatter. It was quite a formidable power source, one that had been used to power a number of civilizations – including that of the Robotech Masters – in the centuries before Zor had created protoculture.

    Still to find it here was surprising even if it wasn’t being used properly as he was aware that Karbarrans especially burned it in highly pressurised chambers that allowed them to get as much energy out of the ore as possible.

    “Confirmed captain. Whatever survivors are down there they’re burning sekitan presumably for heat and food preparation. Scans indicate that the planet has numerous rich deposits of the ore. It looks like the natives were just beginning to mine it when they were attacked.”

    “Interesting,” Serval commented making a mental note to inform Commander Breetai of this finding. Knowing that sekitan actually existed in this galaxy, alongside naquada, in mineable quantities certainly gave them and their Terran allies additional options when it came to power generation.

    “Captain, we have successfully made contact with Colonel Ferretti’s exploration team on the surface,” communications reported. “Colonel Ferretti reports that they are making progress examining the underground base containing the star portal device however it is slow going due to lack of power and water ingress on the lower levels of the base. They think they have located the bases main information storage archive but haven’t reached it yet due to a number of sealed blast doors that they’re having to laser their way through.”

    “Understood. Ask Colonel Ferretti to keep us appraised of their progress. Also advise him that we have determined that the planet was attacked from orbit with plasma weapons by an unknown party sometime in the last decade.”

    “Captain we’re being scanned,” tactical reported.

    Serval blinked in surprise. “Source,” he demanded.

    “Unknown. The scanning beams are originating from a point in orbit on a bearing of zero two four mark zero one nine. However according to our sensors there is nothing there.”

    “Odd. Flight operations dispatch some fighters to investigate.”

    “Yes sir.”

    ~~//~~

    Less than two minutes after Serval gave the order a flight of three Gnerl-class fighter pods launched from the starboard flight deck of the Thuverl Salan-class cruiser. Immediately the three bell-shaped fighters arced around and began making their way towards the source of the scanning beams sweeping their mothership. The satellite immediately noted their approach and determined that its scans had been picked up and traced by the unknowns.

    Logic and decision circuits went into overdrive and after a few moments the satellite – maintaining the full integrity of its cloaking field – began to manoeuvre away from the area it had previously been in. Before it did so however it sent a brief subspace message to its creators informing them of what was happening over this punished planet.

    And prompting some action to be taken.

    ~~//~~

    “Captain the fighters report no contact at the coordinates indicated.”

    Serval frowned. This was strange as by all accounts there should be something there, even if it was just a probe of some kind, as subspace sensor beams didn’t just come out of nowhere. Yet there wasn’t and he began to wonder if the beams had been there at all or if it was some kind of sensor malfunction.

    “Check our sensors make sure they’re working correctly,” he ordered.

    “We have sir all sensor and data gathering systems are operating within normal parameters.”

    “Curiouser and curiouser,” Serval muttered a moment before communications spoke.

    “Captain we’ve just detected a subspace message beamed into deep space from near to those coordinates.”

    “What! Can you determine what it said.”

    “Negative sir the transmission was too brief for us to lock onto and was also encrypted.”

    Serval scowled at that a number of mental alarm bells now ringing. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like it at all as someone was obviously spying on them, someone who had a form of stealth technology that they could not defeat.

    “Deploy an enhanced CAP around us and bring the ship to alert status two,” he ordered after a moment. “Communications advise Colonel Ferretti that we might have to send a dropship down to retrieve him and his team. Make sure to tell him why. Engineering, begin preparing the fold drive for an immediate return to Earth.”

    “Yes sir.”

    As his crew began to go about their assigned tasks, and alarms began to sound throughout the cruiser summoning the crew to stations though not quite to battle stations, Serval went over to the chair in the command blister and sat down mulling over everything that had just taken place. It bothered him greatly and to quote a Terran movie trilogy he had watched a few days earlier he had a bad feeling about this…

    …a very bad feeling.

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust. I hope you all enjoyed it. I think you can all guess whose satellite that is and who is going to show up to gate crash this particular Terran and Zentraedi party in the next chapter. Hopefully it will not be too long in coming. Until next time.
     
    Chapter Seven
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Seven

    Goa’uld Mothership
    That Same Time

    Vo’ceg, First Prime to the great Goa’uld scientist, inventor, engineer, and System Lord P’tah walked with some urgency through the corridors of his master’s flagship. His destination being Lord P’tah’s private laboratory where his lord – arguably the greatest of his kind given he had created much of the magic used by the gods, or what most of his fellow Jaffa would believe to be magic as like every First Prime of P’tah that there had ever been he knew the truth that it was merely advanced technology – would be hard at work on the latest task he had been assigned by Ra himself. Something he knew made his master happy as P’tah was never happier than when he was tinkering with something or researching something sometimes for practical gain other times because it simply intrigued him.

    Unfortunately, he would have to disturb him with the report that the pel’tac had received a few minutes ago. An extremely large, advanced, and completely unknown alien warship had just appeared near the orbit of the planet once known as Linkotis by its inhabitants. Inhabitants who had made the mistake of raiding one to many of both his master’s and Ra’s territories leading to him and Ra’s First Prime jointly leading the appropriate punishment expedition first through the chappa’ai then from orbiting motherships. In the near decade since the planet had been quiet – the handful of survivors that there were being constantly watched by one of his master’s surveillance satellites – until now that was. First the satellite had detected activity from the chappa’ai but before it could get in position to get a reading on who’d come through it had detected a previously unknown type of subspace distortion forming.

    A distortion that had spiked before vanishing leaving behind a two-kilometre-long alien warship. A warship whose arrival so soon after an unknown force from the chappa’ai could not be a coincidence. Someone was definitely interested in Linkotis for some reason, someone that the Goa’uld had never encountered before but who were undeniably powerful if they were able to build warships that large. Something that Vo’ceg knew P’tah would not be happy to learn about as such a race was a new potential threat, which was the last thing the Goa’uld needed right now. Not with their entire empire engaged in the first large scale civil war for at least two thousand years if not longer, the war sparked by Sokar’s return after hundreds of years of banishment with a large fleet and army that had attempted to take over the Empire. While the attempt had ultimately failed Sokar had still been able to secure several strategically important sectors and in the seven and a half years since then there had been war with neither side able to make much headway.

    Vo’ceg arrived outside the entrance to the laboratory and wasn’t surprised to see two Horus guards standing sentry outside. They’d arrived a few days ago along with a commission from Ra himself and Vo’ceg knew from experience that they would remain until the task was done. However, they didn’t impede him – bad things happened to lower ranked Jaffa who impeded a Prime let alone a First Prime without good reason – as he waved a hand over the door hailer.

    “Enter,” a familiar voice said from inside prompting the door to open with the familiar stone-on-stone grinding sound though the door was not actually made from stone but the same naquada-trinium alloy as the rest of the ship. Vo’ceg set his shoulders and walked into the room, to see Lord P’tah working at the lab’s main computer terminal. His master looking over at his arrival.

    “Forgive me for disturbing you my lord,” Vo’ceg said in greeting, bowing his head.

    “It is quite alright Vo’ceg what is it?” P’tah asked knowing that Vo’ceg would not bother him here unless it was important.

    “My lord we’ve received a priority alert from the sentry satellite deployed over Linkotis.”

    P’tah raised an eyebrow. “Go on,” he continued, stepping away from the console to give the Jaffa his full attention. He was quite proud of the sentry satellite that he’d deployed over Linkotis after their punishment, it had been a great technological achievement and he had already received commissions from numerous System Lords – including from Ra himself – for many more of them to deploy above all the planets in Goa’uld space even those which like Linkotis had been punished by them for their insolence in attacking those who should be worshipped as their gods. Especially as Sokar had started using some of those places as staging areas for his attacks on the rest of the Empire, not to mention that the loathsome Tok’ra had also been known to use those planets as bases. Thus, he was quite interested to know what it had discovered that it had prompted the satellites computer to send an alert.

    “My lord sensors on the satellite detected activity from the chappa’ai on the planet,” Vo’ceg explained, “however before it could adjust its orbital path for a more precise scan of the area it detected a subspace distortion forming nearby.”

    “What kind of distortion?”

    “The satellite didn’t recognise it my lord. However, it was obviously artificial as it spiked and dissipated leaving behind a large alien warship of unknown origin. I have taken the liberty of sending a copy of the satellite data to you.”

    P’tah blinked and returned to the main computer console and opened up a new window showing that there was indeed data from the satellite there for him to analyse. He quickly pulled it up and noticed with considerable surprise that the subspace distortion that the satellite had detected had some properties in common with a hyperspace window while being distinctly different at the same time, for one thing hyperspace windows didn’t produce phased gravitons or beta-phase tachyon particles. Interesting, he thought his scientific mind already trying to work out just what the subspace distortion had been well beyond obviously a previously unknown method of faster than light space travel. Somewhat reluctantly he pushed the scientist back into his mental box, there would be time to pour over this data later.

    “You said there was activity from the chappa’ai before the ship arrived?”

    “Yes, my lord, I do not believe it to be a coincidence.”

    “No, it probably is not. Dispatch a squad of Jaffa through the chappa’ai to investigate planet side. In the meantime, do we have any ships in that area?”

    “Yes, my lord there is a small task force commanded by your deputy Fleet Lord Solec several light years away.”

    “Tell them to intercept and board the unknown vessel we will learn who these latest trespassers are then.”

    “Understood my lord.”

    “Keep me appraised of their progress.”

    “As you wish my lord.”

    “Dismissed Vo’ceg.”

    Vo’ceg bowed respectfully to his master before turning and leaving the room. P’tah watched him leave before turning his attention back to the computer and – somewhat reluctantly – returning to the original screen he’d been working on. He would have much rather have studied the scan data on the unknown alien FTL method, however his assignment from Ra took priority as it always did, and he knew better than to disappoint the Supreme System Lord. Doing that could have very unpleasant consequences especially as Ra had adopted his son Heru’ur’s favourite punishment for Goa’uld who disappointed or failed him. Though hopefully if Solec did succeed in capturing the alien vessel he would be able to learn more about it from the minds of the crew or from its databanks.

    It was something to look forward to. Now if only he could figure out just how to beat the improvements that Sokar had made to cloaking technology.

    ~~//~~

    Stargate Facility
    Linkotis
    A Short Time Later


    The Eagle reconnaissance drone floated sedately near the high ceiling of the room housing this planets Stargate. While it had been quietly hovering here for the better part of two days, ever since being deployed through the Stargate as an advanced scout, it was in no danger of falling to the hard concrete surface below. The small protoculture flat cell that providing it with energy meant that it could remain in its position for several days if needs be and be almost undetectable to anyone without augmented hearing as its six small tilt-fan engines produced only the faintest of whirring sounds as the blade spun within their housings.

    Thus, it was in a perfect position to notice when the Stargate began whirring to life again, the inner ring rotating quickly and the chevrons beginning to lock into place. Immediately the Eagle turned and pointed its small but extremely powerful multi-spectral camera at the gate even as the unstable vortex burst into existence and then receded back into the gate forming the wall of water effect that was the event horizon of the wormhole. For a few more moments nothing happened then tall humanoid figures in armour and carrying staffs began stepping through. All of them were wearing the same jackal-like helmets as the one that had been worn by the body that the drone had seen earlier though the colour was different shading more towards a dark blue with no additional ornamentation. The eyes glowed with a harsh yellow light.

    Immediately the Eagle transmitted an alert to Colonel Ferretti letting him know of the new arrivals as the numbers coming through the gate slowed to a stop and the gate shut down. Leaving a dozen of the armoured individuals standing on the ramp, helmets moving back and forth as they surveyed the room. The drones’ external microphones detected one of the figures saying something in an alien language before one of the staffs was pointed in its direction and the bulbous end opened with a crack and flash of energy a moment before a golden bolt of energy birthed from the staff heading right at the Eagle.

    The bolt of superheated plasma smashed into the hovering drone before it could even begin executing one of its programmed evasive action sequences. The plasma instantly cut through the thin skin of the drone and tore through its internal components before rupturing the protoculture flat cell. Now normally protoculture was actually a highly stable and non-reactive material unless exposed to either certain microwave frequencies – like in a reflex furnace or a reflex warhead – or a burst of intense heat or energy that would instantly vaporise the oily material triggering the normal vacuum energy release, plasma conversion and matter/antimatter pair bond creation that made reflex furnaces so potent a power source or a weapon devastating enough that just a handful of reflex missiles could lay an entire planet to waste.

    The plasma blast from the Goa’uld ma’tok staff pushed the protoculture past that critical vaporisation point. With the predictable result that the Eagle drone exploded with immense force, sending out a burst of intense heat and generating a shockwave that knocked the newly arrived Jaffa sprawling.

    ~~//~~

    Prime Jar’un grunted slightly as he picked himself up off the floor where he and the rest of the patrol sent through to investigate this planet had been knocked sprawling by the surprisingly powerful detonation of the alien device, that he had spotted observing them. Naturally he had shot the spy down though he had not expected it to have detonated with such force, force enough that the shockwave of its destruction would be powerful enough to knock them all off their feet.

    “Is everyone alright,” he asked his fellow Jaffa. One by one they all confirmed that they were fine, just a little bruised from being tossed around like that by the shockwave of the alien devices destruction. A blast that, now that Jar’un thought about it, could only be the result of some kind of built-in self-destruct, designed to prevent the device from falling into an enemy/or potential enemy’s hands. It was something that he had seen the Goa’uld do in the past to prevent others learning the secret of their magic. Or more likely realize that the Goa’uld magic is not magic at all, he thought knowing that despite their claims to the contrary the Goa’uld were not all-powerful gods nor was their magic really magic instead it was merely advanced technology that they passed off as magic to the primitive masses of the galaxy. It was knowledge that he could never truly act upon though, nor could any others in the slowly growing movement among the many Jaffa armies who served the false gods, much as he wished otherwise – at least in the privacy of his own mind.

    He put those thoughts out of his mind for now and focused on the reason why he and his squad had been sent to this planet. Calmly he used the enhanced vision mode of his helmet to scan around for the unknown aliens – likely humans but it was possible they were from another race since there were numerous other races in the galaxy, some ruled over by the Goa’uld others not – who had arrived via the chappa’ai a short time before a warship – one that presumably belonged to them – arrived in orbit. A warship that would hopefully soon be dealt with, either being destroyed or at least driven away, by the ships that would come out of hyperspace anytime now. He wished his brothers on those ships luck as one could never take any warship lightly, especially one from a civilization that they knew nothing about.

    After a few moments of scanning, he found them. They had split up into two groups one of the levels immediately above this one and the other group on the level below. He guessed that they were or rather had been engaged in a survey mission of this abandoned bunker complex, but something has obviously changed as the two groups were moving back towards the bunker’s central stairwell, clearly intending to rendezvous with one another before confronting them. For a moment he wondered how they knew that they were here, before realizing that their device had to have alerted them somehow just before he destroyed it. Well, we cannot have them join up, he thought knowing somehow, that that would be a bad thing.

    “Jaffa our opponents have split into two groups in the time since they arrived,” he said. “They are now moving back towards the central stairwell, presumably to rendezvous with one another in response to our arrival.”

    “We obviously cannot have that,” Var’tu commented. Jar’un nodded.

    “And we will not,” he said, “Var’tu take half the squad and descend to the level below us. The rest of you come with me, we’ll engage the aliens while they’re separated. Our orders from Lord P’tah are to capture them for interrogation if possible but kill them if necessary. Understood?”

    “Understood,” his brothers chorused.

    “Move out.”

    With the ease of people who practiced such things from childhood the Jaffa split themselves into two teams and ma’tok staffs at the ready began advancing towards where the HUDs of their helmets revealed the central stairwell of this bunker complex to be. It was not that far from the room that housed the Stargate - a room that when the facility had originally been built by Linkotean national faction known as Vallarta had been a munitions storage room until that was, they unearthed their planets long buried Stargate, separated only be a handful of steel blast doors. Blast doors that the squad noticed had all either been opened of sliced through in such a way as to confirm that whoever their quarry was, they had access to advanced weapons.

    Within moments the arrived at the central stairwell and separated with Jar’un leading his half of their squad upwards while Var’tu took his down. There heavy boots echoed loudly on the steel-grid steps as they ascended and descended respectively. Arriving at the landing for the level Jar’un took a moment to use his helmet to scan beyond finding that none of their opponents were within immediate range of the door, which would have been a natural choke point. Instead, they still seemed to be some way inside the level and off to the right. Not about to question his good fortune Jar’un mentioned for his squad to begin advancing towards the alien position – ma’tok staffs at the ready.

    ~~//~~

    Colonel Ferretti felt like there were rattlesnakes performing a mating dance in his stomach as he could hear the hostile force that had come through the Stargate getting closer and closer to the position where he and his half of the squad and their technicians had taken cover the moment the Eagle drone was destroyed. Whoever the aliens were they obviously didn’t care about being quiet and stealthy as they made a continuous metallic clank, clank, clank, clank noise as they moved.

    “Sheesh these guys make more noise than a destroid with faulty foot actuators,” Private Scott Peterson commented over the squad frequency.

    “They are rather loud,” Ferretti agreed, “everyone take positions they should be here in a minute.”

    “Colonel, should we try to talk to them,” Doctor Jack Hall asked before approaching him from where he had been standing among the technicians. “After all we don’t want to start another war, we’ve not recovered from the last one yet after all. Granted I know that these aliens destroying our drone is not a promising sign, but shouldn’t we at least try to talk with words instead of lasers?”

    Ferretti blinked before frowning thoughtfully, though he knew that the scientist wouldn’t see that through the opaque faceplate of his helmet. It was true that it would be far more preferable to establish a peaceful dialogue with whichever race this was, a race who likely knew far more about the Stargates than they did. Thus, they could learn quite a bit from them if peaceful relations could be established. Though he was also aware that they didn’t exactly have the best of luck when it came to first contacts given what had happened when the Zentraedi had first defolded near the moon. Though you could argue we started that war given the SDF-1 did open fire on them as their scouts approached, he thought recalling seeing the searing yellow light of the reflex cannon beam streaking spacewards from a military base on a neighbouring island to Macross Island.

    Maybe this time they would be able to do something different. Thus, he started to open his mouth to agree with the scientist, and to say that they would indeed try to talk to their uninvited guests with words instead of lethal lasers, but before he could speak two things occurred virtually simultaneously. First, he heard a voice from the entrance scream two words in an alien language words, seconds mere moments later a bolt of golden energy impacted between himself and Hall with an explosive crack throwing up a burst of smoke and flame.

    Instinct and training seamlessly took over behind the sturdy looking concrete and steel benches that filled this room – which had clearly been a church or temple of some sort as all the benches pointed towards a raised dais on which sat an alter and various bits of religious paraphernalia including a shrine in which the figures of three deities were depicted - as the six STORM commandoes, dove into cover pulling the startled scientists and technicians with them. More bolts of golden fiery energy – which moved too slowly to be either laser or charged particle bolts, meaning that they were almost certainly a plasma-based weapon – flew towards them from their attackers who were coming into the room. Two stood on either side of the door holding staff-like weapons at shoulder height – firing into the room in a clear attempt to lay down covering fire – while the other four came into the room. Two dropping to one knee almost immediately while the other two stood behind them in a formation that frankly reminded Ferretti of an old-fashioned infantry square. All the while their staffs – which were a frankly ridiculous looking thing to wield as a weapon, let alone an energy weapon as none of the commandoes could see how they could possibly aim the things with any real degree of accuracy – spewed bolt after bolt of golden energy.

    “Hold your fire we mean you no harm,” Doctor Hall called from beside Ferretti. The result was obviously not what the doctor had hoped for as plasma blasts impacted the metal and concrete pew, they were hiding behind melting the steel and crater in the concrete severely.

    “Somehow I don’t think they’re interested in talking only shooting doc,” Ferretti replied even as he worked out the timing between plasma shots from the alien staffs. At the right moment he popped up just enough to bring his AR2 rifle to bear and fire. A brilliant lance of bluish-white laser fire shot across the distance and slammed into one of the aliens near the door, taking the alien high in the shoulder and dropping him to the floor with a very human sounding scream of pain, the staff clattering to the floor.

    The other aliens obviously didn’t appreciate that for as Ferretti ducked back down, five plasma bolts pummelled the location where he had popped up. Showering both commando and scientist with chips of pulverized concrete. The other commandoes took advantage of the alien distraction to pop up themselves and catch them in a lethal crossfire. In an instant it was over the other five aliens going down under the ensuing barrage of laser fire.

    “Well, that was bracing,” Ferretti commented as he stood up before, keeping his rifle at the ready, advancing along with Private Peterson to where the alien he had hit was lying near the door. Amazingly the alien was still able to move its wounded arm and was reaching for the staff as he arrived. Oh no you don’t, he thought as he kicked the staff away out of reach before pointing the muzzle of the rifle right at where the aliens face should be.

    For a moment the alien froze, and he got the impression that he was being sized up before the alien raised its hands, touched something on the side of its helmet then raised its hands in the universal gesture of surrender. Before Ferretti’s amazed eyes the helmet undid itself and folded down into a thick neckpiece revealing the face of a young human-looking being of either Southern Mediterranean or Arabian descent with a strange silver ankh symbol in the centre of his forehead and wearing a metal skullcap. What the hell, Ferretti thought shocked to see a human face before wondering if it was some cosmic joke that every race that they ran into had to be related to them in some way.

    “Can you understand me,” he asked.

    “I can,” the alien-human answered in an odd accent.

    “I am Colonel Louis Ferretti, United Earth Defence Force STORM Commandoes,” Ferretti said even as he wondered just how the alien understood him and seemed to be able to speak standard English if with a very odd accent. “You are now our prisoner. If you don’t resist you will be treated well but should you try any funny business or try to escape, we’ll kill you where you stand. Do you understand?”

    “Yes. I am Jar’un, Jaffa Prime in service to the god P’tah. I won’t resist, though I will understand if you wish to bind me. I would do the same if our positions were reversed.”

    Ferretti nodded and gestured with the rifle for Jar’un to stand up. As the Jaffa did so Peterson stepped forward with a pair of hypercarbon-titanium handcuffs to bind him. Jar’un kept his word and offered no resistance as he was turned around and his arms brought down to be bound behind his back. Ferretti watched the whole time, laser pointed ready to gun him down if he tried anything though he was relieved that he didn’t have to.

    Once their prisoner was secure, he spoke into his helmet radio. “Captain Chandler what’s your status,” he ordered. “Are you alright?”

    “Yes, sir we are,” Chandler answered, “I was actually just about to call you and ask the same question. Sir I have to report that we were just attacked by unknown hostiles with the most god-awful aim and the most ergonomically useless weapons I’ve ever seen.”

    “So were we captain. Any injuries?”

    “Aside from some frayed nerves among the civilians no sir. All hostiles were terminated, there armour doesn’t seem to withstand laser fire that well,” Chandler replied, a moment before the radio picked up a dull thud as though something had impacted his helmet. “Hey what the?”

    “Captain?”

    “Sorry sir but something just bounced off my helmet. Some weird snake-like thing. It’s now twitching on the floor I’d say it was stunned by the impact. Wait its stopped moving, I think it’s dead now.”

    “Have one of the scientists bag the remains. Our people back home would certainly like to look at it,” Ferretti replied, “once that’s done head towards the motor pool the Eagle found earlier. We’ll join you there with a prisoner.”

    “Understood sir.”

    “Ferretti out,” Ferretti finished before closing the comm link and turning to their prisoner, determined to get an answer as to what it was that had tried to attack Captain Chandler. “A small snake-like thing tried to attack one of my people after they killed the rest of your squad, thankfully it bounced off his helmet and died a few seconds later on the floor. Do you happen to know anything about that?”

    “It would have been the prim’tah of one of my brothers,” Jar’un answered, blinking somewhat in surprise as he realized that these humans did not know of the Goa’uld otherwise they would have recognised the creature for what it was.

    “A what?” Doctor Hall asked.

    “A larval Goa’uld. All Jaffa carry one in an abdominal pouch until it reaches maturity and is able to take a host,” Jar’un explained, “in exchange for doing so we get perfect health, enhanced healing, and a long life. The one that attacked your man must have attempted to take a host out of desperation as its Jaffa’s life expired.”

    “Host! What is this Goa’uld some kind of parasite or a symbiotic lifeform?” Hall asked fascinated.

    “Doctor there will be time to ask questions later,” Ferretti interrupted.

    “Right colonel sorry.”

    Ferretti mentally shook his head. Scientists, he thought with a fond smile before once again activating his comm unit, this time selecting the fold comm and calling the Zentraedi cruiser in orbit. “Captain Serval this is Colonel Ferretti can you hear me?” he asked.

    “I can indeed Colonel,” the Zentraedi answered immediately. “Is everything alright down there?”

    “Unfortunately, no,” Ferretti replied before quickly summarising everything that had just taken place for the Zentraedi officer. “I have ordered that everyone rendezvous at the motor pool our drone located earlier. Can you have a dropship sent down to pick us up from there?”

    “Of course, I will have the dropship and an appropriate escort launched at once. Expect them sometime within the next fifteen minutes.”

    “Understood. We’ll be waiting.”

    “Serval out.”

    As the Zentraedi signed off Ferretti turned to his team and their prisoner. “Alright people let’s get moving, Serval is sending down a lift for us,” he said.

    “Sir yes sir,” the commandoes acknowledged while Hall and the other scientists just nodded in acceptance. Then without further ado they all began moving, heading back towards the stairwell.

    ~~//~~

    Zentraedi Cruiser
    Linkotis Orbit

    The moment he signed off with Colonel Ferretti Serval looked over at his first officer to see, to his pleasure, that the other Zentraedi was already organising the launch of a dropship to retrieve the STORM commando team, their prisoner and the scientists who’d accompanied them through the Stargate to this planet. Given that they had apparently been attacked by unknown hostiles, who had come through said gate, he approved of and understood Colonel Ferretti’s decision to request extraction via dropship instead of trying to activate the gate back to Earth.

    While it was true, they had been able to determine roughly what the planets coordinates would be thanks to cross referencing their navigational charts created after they’d arrived in this galaxy with the gate symbols. Symbols that weren’t actually star configurations at all but geometric representations of certain key astronomical features that could be observed or detected anywhere in the galaxy such as pulsars, large nebulae, and quantum singularities. Opening the gate back to Earth would have involved a bit more trial and error than anyone would be comfortable with, especially as there was no telling when another wave of attackers would come through the Stargate.

    Still how did the attackers know that we had people down there, he mused wondering if the mysterious scans were to blame. Scans that despite their best-efforts source they could not pin down, it was almost as if whatever had made them was invisible to both their sensors and the mark one eyeballs of their Gnerl pilots. Something that was, to the best of his knowledge, utterly impossible as nobody known to the Zentraedi – not even the Robotech Masters themselves – had the technology to render something invisible.

    “Captain the dropship and an escort has been launched,” his first officer, Trel, reported. “They will reach the atmosphere within five minutes.”

    “Excellent,” Serval replied with a smile a moment before proximity alarms rang out throughout both the command blister and the main level of the bridge. “Report?”

    “Captain sensors indicate a spatial distortion forming on a bearing of zero, two, zero mark zero, zero one. Distance thirty-five megametres,” sensors reported making Serval blink as not only was that nearly bang on with their bow, but it was practically on top of them.

    “Show me,” he ordered.

    “Yes sir.”

    Immediately a projector field powered up and a holographic screen pixeled into existence showing an image of the spatial anomaly as it appeared. Serval blinked in surprise as it wasn’t like any anomaly, he had ever seen in all the centuries that he had lived. It looked for all the world like a purple-blue bruise in space. What in Zor’s name is that he thought a moment before the anomaly pulsed…

    …and a group of ships came shooting out of it. The anomaly vanished as if it had never been present at all, clearly having been generated by the unknown alien ships possibly as a means of faster than light travel as Serval was well aware that, while it was the most efficient means known, space folding wasn’t the only way to travel faster than light.

    Serval studied the newly arrived ships curiously. They were strange looking vessels, the largest of them being composed of a large golden pyramid structure surrounded by a black vaguely triangular structure. There was no visible exhaust plume or thrusters of any kind indicating that the vessel achieved motion another way possibly by manipulating gravitational and magnetic fields in much the same way that the Masters Azashar-class motherships did. Though the ship was considerable smaller than a Tirolian mothership and indeed was even smaller than his own being only seven hundred meters across though it was a little bit taller at six hundred and fifty meters. The six smaller ships clustered around it were also pyramidal in shape but squatter and all had thrusters glowing at the back and a large visible dual turret on their underside.

    An additional holographic screen pixeled into existence showing a tactical analysis of the vessels. Serval frowned slightly as while their power levels were a bit lower than a robotech warships they were still concerningly high. Not to mention that all seven vessels appeared to be surrounded by defensive energy barriers similar to the one that Zor’s battlefortress had had, and which had been incorrectly repaired by the Terrans making it dangerously unstable, and which Tirolian ships did. Though at the same time it looked completely different as it was invisible to start with.

    “Captain we are being hailed by the primary ship,” communications reported. Well, that’s promising, Serval thought.

    “Put it through,” he ordered.

    “Yes sir.”

    A third holographic screen pixeled into existence bringing in an image of the bridge of the alien ship and Serval blinked in a combination of surprise and confusion. The bridge was manned by two human-looking aliens in chainmail and wearing skull-caps, with a third human in a gold-coloured version sitting on a throne-like chair on a raised dais at the back of the bridge. On either side of him two statues rose high into the air, where they met holding a burning brasier. Additional brasiers lined the bridge, a bridge whose walls were gold and engraved with line after line of strange alien text. It looked more like the tomb or throne room of some ancient king than the bridge of an advanced interstellar spacecraft.

    He was even more shocked when the human on the throne’s eyes glowed with a whitish-gold light – almost as if he had lights behind his eyes – before he spoke. Spoke in a deep, oddly resonant voice that was in no way human and was in its own way as creepy as the quasi-synthetic voice used by Tirolian triumvirate clones.

    “I am Lord Solec,” the human, if that’s what he was, said. “You have encroached on the domain of my master the great god P’tah. Surrender immediately and I shall ask him to be merciful. Refuse and I will destroy you.”

    “Lord Solec I am Captain Serval of the Free Zentraedi Forces,” Serval replied, a little irritated by the arrogant tone the being before him had used and the fact that he seemed to just to expect them to surrender to him. He obviously didn’t know anything about the Zentraedi otherwise he would have known that they did not surrender to anyone. Still, he would try to be diplomatic. “I apologise for any intrusion into your space. We are here on a simple survey mission and are prepared to leave peacefully once our survey team is retrieved from the surface. There is no need for violence.”

    “Your reason for being here is irrelevant Captain Serval,” Solec answered. “What is relevant is the fact that you are in violation of sacred Goa’uld territory. You will surrender immediately, or I will be forced to open fire.”

    “I cannot do that,” Serval replied resolutely. “But as I said we will leave peacefully once our ground team is retrieved from the planet. However, know this if you fire upon us, we will defend ourselves.”

    “A warrior then. I can respect that even as I regret your stubbornness. May you die with honour and know if you do, I will personally escort your souls to a place of honour in the afterlife. Kree’shak chell Jaffa.” The holographic screen pixeled out of existence as the communications link was closed down from the other end.

    “Captain the alien ships are powering up their weapons,” sensors reported, “the main ship is also launching fighters.”

    And so, we fight again, Serval thought with a mental sigh. “Very well if a battle is what this Lord Solec wishes not only will we oblige him, but we will teach him the foolishness of crossing the Zentraedi right before we destroy him,” he said. “All hands to battle stations, launch all fighters and prepare to engage the enemy.”

    “Yes sir.”

    Immediately alarms began to ring throughout the length of the cruiser, across every deck and compartment summoning the vessels four hundred strong crew to their battle stations while sending the remaining Gnerl pilots – and the battlepod pilots – scrambling to man their craft. Simultaneously engineering brought the power output of the reflex furnaces up to combat levels and energy began to flow into the cruiser’s heavy particle beam turrets while across the hull gun ports opened and fang-like combination cannon turrets and blister-like missile turrets rose into firing positions.

    Seconds later launch doors on the port and starboard sides of the cruiser opened and the rest of the cruisers entire complement of bell-shaped Gnerl fighter pods began launching into space. For their part the Goa’uld also prepared for battle with the Ha’tak warming up both its heavy and standard staff cannons, increasing power to its defence shield and scrambling its entire armada of death gliders while the already deployed Al’kesh primed their own staff cannon turrets and loaded plasma bombs into their bomb racks. For a few more moments nothing happened beyond both sides completing their preparations…

    …then the Goa’uld opened fire.

    ~~//~~

    Bright whitish-gold balls of superheated naquada-generated plasma burst from one of the dorsal heavy cannon arrays of the Ha’tak and streaked towards the alien warship that was daring to defy them. The bolts slammed with white hot force into the green and purple hull of the Zentraedi cruiser and immediately broke apart and dissipated in a rainbow blaze of light as the advanced armour covering the hull immediately reflected over half the energy of the bolts back into space while dispersing the rest of it over a wider area of the hull reducing the damage. Though it did nothing for the physical impact of the bolts that made the cruiser ring like a bell and made Zentraedi crewmen stumble as the cruiser shuddered under the enemy fire. More bolts of plasma shot out of the Ha’tak slamming into the Zentraedi vessel shaking it violently but not currently doing any damage beyond scorching and pitting the dense outer armour band.

    Simultaneously the death gliders and Al’kesh swooped towards the Zentraedi ready to commence strafing and bombing runs. Only to run headlong into a barrage of missiles and pulse particle cannon fire from the Gnerl scrambling to defend their mothership. Several gliders vanished immediately in balls of flames and energy though the handful of Al’kesh shrugged off the attack their shields glowing softly as they deflected or absorbed the energy of the assault.

    Their attention grabbed, and their ire roused, by the destruction of some of their fellows the gliders broke formation and began engaging the Gnerl in high-speed dogfights. An arena where, somewhat to the Zentraedi’s surprise and displeasure, they were surprisingly capable as due to their advanced inertial engines – based on an understanding of gravitic science and gravitic engineering that the Robotech Masters would have been envious of if they’d been present – they were both faster and more agile than the Gnerl which relied on a scaled down version of the same largely Newtonian ion-fusion propulsion systems used by their capital ships.

    While the fighters of both sides began fighting for their lives in a complete free-for-all space brawl the Zentraedi cruiser at last returned the Ha’tak’s fire. Dual heavy particle beams burst from the vessels particle beam turrets and slammed into the shield around the mothership with searing force making the shield flare with an orange light and ripple revealing the quasi-crystalline structure of the force field as its absorbed or deflected the powerful beams.

    Shaken and startled by the powerful beams striking and damaging the shields, the Ha’tak burst into motion beginning to accelerate and manoeuvre with a speed and agility more comparable to a fighter than a seven hundred long capital ship. Simultaneously it opened fire with every staff cannon – both heavy and standard – array that could be brought to bear upon the larger, but slower and more sluggish in manoeuvring Zentraedi opened up pounding out endless streams of plasmatic death. High powered lasers and particle beams streaked back at it from the cruiser though, much to the frustration of the gunners, most of their shots missed the agile Ha’tak with only a handful of lasers hitting it and sleeting off the shields which glowed slightly more brightly each time a shot hit home.

    Essentially the battle between the capital ships became a race to determine who would disable or destroy who first. In an attempt to assist their God, the Al’kesh made a bombing run at the Zentraedi cruiser, dropping dozens of plasma charges over the hull triggering numerous explosions as the charges detonated on impact blowing away chunks of the outer armour band and even disabling a number of the secondary combination cannon turrets.

    It was the only run they were able to make as the cruiser’s missile turrets opened up sending a massive barrage of plasma missiles into space. Missiles that immediately swarmed the Al’kesh detonating against and destroying their shields before doing the same to the hulls beneath.

    Even as the Al’kesh died the Ha’tak landed a full barrage of heavy plasma bolts on a section of the hull already weakened by the bombing run blowing through the outer hull and even penetrating the inner hull in two places causing numerous fires to erupt as atmosphere around the affected compartments was superheated to flashpoint. It was the Ha’tak’s last hurrah for as it pulled away several particle beams broke through its weakened shields and slammed into the hull.

    The effect was far more devastating than what the victorious Zentraedi gunners had ever seen, or thought would happen. The reason being that – as with all Goa’uld spacecraft – the Ha’tak’s hull was made from an alloy of trinium and naquada, an alloy that was normally highly resistant to damage albeit damage from the plasma weapons of rival Goa’uld, weapons that the Goa’uld had long since optimised their ships to withstand as part of the near ritualized method of warfare that was part and parcel of the Goa’uld Empire’s normal feudal nature.

    Against particle beams however it was the worst possible armour to use.

    Instead of simply soaking up the heat and energy of the particle beams in the way it would a plasma blast the naquada in the alloy actually both conducted and amplified the energy of the blasts even as it destabilized due to the atomic disruptive effect common to particle weapons. The result was both predictable and utterly devastating as the Ha’tak exploded with appalling savagery, vanishing in a rapid series of explosions that sent debris flying in all directions – including into the hull of the Zentraedi vessel where it punched deep burning holes in already weakened hull sections.

    Its opponent dealt with the cruiser, despite its own grievous wounds, turned to aid its Gnerl fighter pods against the annoying fast and evasive Goa’uld fighters. Unleashing another barrage of missiles from its missile turrets as well as a storm of laser fire that finally tore the last of them from the stars.

    ~~//~~

    “Captain the last of the enemy ships have been destroyed.”

    “Very good,” Captain Serval replied before coughing and waving a hand at the thin, but quite noxious, cloud of smoke that filled the bridge. Evidence of the numerous fires that were burning all over the ship, the result of the intense heat of the Goa’uld plasma blasts that had penetrated the hull. “Damage report?”

    “Sir damage control reports heavy damage to the outer hull with breaches in sections twenty-seven, twenty-eight, thirty-one, thirty-two and thirty-five across deck one with the breach in section thirty-two reaching down to deck two – automatic hull repair has begun but it will be at least three hours before all the breaches are sealed,” one of the bridge crew reported

    “Port lateral combination cannon arrays three, five, seven and nine are destroyed,” the officer continued. “Cannon arrays ten through twelve are offline due to damaged power conduits as are port side missile launchers thirteen, fourteen and sixteen. There is still a fire burning on the port hangar deck and fires are still burning in sections twenty-six and twenty-nine. Fire control crews and drones are getting them under control however and estimate that they will have them completely extinguished shortly. Engineering reports that the fold drive is offline due to a severed coolant lines they are working on it now but have had to completely power down the fold system to prevent it overheating.”

    “Damn it,” Serval cursed knowing that kind of repair was a long, dirty job though thankfully they were better able to repair things these days thanks to their Terran allies providing them with numerous lessons in ship repair and enhanced damage control techniques. “How long?”

    “Engineering estimates one hour to repair the damaged coolant lines. After that it will take thirty minutes to completely repower the fold system.”

    “Tell them to work as quickly as they can.”

    “Yes sir.”

    “Sir we’re receiving a signal from the dropship,” communications reported, “they have landed and have recovered Colonel Ferretti’s expedition team. They should be leaving the surface momentarily.”

    “Finally, some good news. Let me know when they’re about to dock.”

    “Yes sir.”

    “Communications establish a secure communications link with both Commander Breetai and UEDF High Command,” Serval ordered knowing he needed to report everything that had just happened to his superior officer and their Terran allies.

    “Yes sir.”

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust. I hope you all enjoyed it and I hope you like the balance that I have struck between the various parties, especially the fact that the Zentraedi cannot just steamroll over the Goa’uld but actually have to work to defeat a Goa’uld mothership. Personally, I felt it better this way as it better represents the fact that the Goa’uld are actually quite a powerful and dangerous opponent even for someone with access to robotech weaponry. Now before anymore asks Jar’un while he has the same beliefs as Teal’c will not be taking his place as a member of the eventual SG teams, as for Teal’c himself he will appear eventually in the story though right now he is kind of busy leading a campaign to boot Sokar’s forces off one of Apophis’ largest naquada mining planets. Until next time.
     
    Chapter Eight
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Eight

    Tok’ra Vessel


    Shocked silence hung pregnant in the air of the small, repurposed Goa’uld cargo ship. Sitting at the pilots and co-pilot’s stations respectively two Tok’ra stared in amazement at the scene before their eyes. They had arrived in this system in response to an order from the Tok’ra High Council apparently one of their listening posts had picked up orders from the Goa’uld scientist, inventor, and System Lord P’tah sending his deputy fleet lord and his small patrol/raiding force to this system, and the Council had wanted to know why. The Linkotean civilization had been destroyed by the Goa’uld over a decade ago so there was, to the best of the Council’s knowledge, no reason to send Solec here.

    Hence, they’d been sent after Solec to investigate since they’d been the closest available ship.

    They’d arrived a few moments ago to see a battle raging between Solec’s mothership, what had to be its entire glider wing and its supporting Al’kesh, and an unknown alien warship. An alien warship that seemed to represent something of a paradox as it was obviously extremely advanced and very powerful given that its weapons seemed to consist of particle cannons – which according to their sensors were firing a proton-based beam of formidable power – high-powered beam lasers and missiles with some type of plasma explosive warheads – which had swatted the Al’kesh like they were annoying insects - seemed to lack any form of defensive energy shielding. Instead, it seemed to rely entirely on armour for protection, armour that while it was stronger than anything they’d ever seen mounted on a ship was obviously being increasingly weakened by the plasma bolts spewing forth from the Ha’tak’s staff cannons.

    The same was also true of the Ha’tak’s shields as from the way they were glowing and flickering – revealing the quasi-crystalline structure of the force fields energy matrix – both Martouf and Freyr could tell that the shields were nearing complete failure. Already they could see glowing areas on the motherships hull where individual shield emitters had overloaded from the strain of resisting the powerful alien weapons, overloaded and subsequently blown out starting a number of small plasma or electrical fires aboard the Ha’tak.

    “I’m surprised that Solec hasn’t tried to retreat yet,” Freyr commented, “given the damage his ship has obviously sustained it should be obvious to him that this isn’t a fight he can win.”

    “It is unusual,” Martouf agreed. “Solec isn’t a fool, when outmatched he normally withdraws from battle. But maybe he cannot run this time. Check his hyperdrive.”

    Freyr nodded and checked her sensor screens. “That explains it his hyperdrive is offline,” she replied, “it looks like one of the primary control arrays has been damaged presumably when one of the shield emitter arrays blew out.”

    “So, his only choice now is to fight or to surrender,” Martouf said knowingly. “And we both know that Solec is too proud a warrior to surrender to anyone other than another Goa’uld.”

    Freyr nodded in agreement, both her and her symbiote Anise, were well aware of how much pride Solec and other Goa’uld like him had in their combat prowess. It made there actions both relatively easy to predict while simultaneously very hard to counter. However, before either host or symbiote could reply a brilliant flash of light through the viewports drew all of their attention.

    It was immediately obvious that the flash of light marked the final critical failure of the Ha’tak’s shields. As they watched a pair of bright blue energy beams slammed into the unshielded vessel and began to cut into the hull. A moment later a massive explosion erupted from where the beams struck the hull, the blast spreading to envelop the entirety of the mothership as two more explosions in rapid succession enveloped the vessel in a raging ball of plasma flames and energy. When the blasts faded all that remained of the Goa’uld mothership was a vast expanding cloud of cooling plasma, dust and a few small chunks of semi-molten debris spinning away in all directions.

    “What the hell happened there,” Martouf asked knowing that the mothership shouldn’t have exploded like that from just two beam strikes to the hull. Unless they hit something vital. “Did they hit the main reactor or the hyperdrive?”

    Freyr’s hands were already dancing across the co-pilot’s station as she reviewed the information recorded by their sensors. “No,” Anise answered after a moment. “It looks like the beams destabilized the naquada in the hull resulting in detonation. The sequential explosions were the hull itself spreading the energy and destabilization imparted by the beams. The effect is identical to what happens when Tollan or Asgard weapons fire hits the hull of a Ha’tak. Which makes sense.”

    “How so,” Martouf asked neither he nor Lantash were scientists, though they knew enough to handle most situations.

    “One thing Tollan, Asgard and whoever these people have in common with their weapons is they’re all particle-based in the case of the former two the blasts are ion based whereas these aliens’ beams are proton based. One thing all particle weapons have in common is they don’t just burn and melt in the way plasma weapons do but they also impart a disruptive force on the nucleonic forces holding matter together.”

    “A force that the naquada in the hull would amplify even as it catastrophically destabilizes,”
    Lantash said in realization.

    “Indeed.”

    “So now what do we do,” Martouf asked as Lantash yielded control back to him. “Should we leave and take these sensor readings back to the High Council?”

    “We could though it would probably be better if we investigate a bit further first,” Freyr commented. “Sensors are detecting some kind of subspace communication between the ship and something or someone on the surface of Linkotis. The signal is on a frequency band that we’ve never seen before and is heavily encrypted.”

    “You’re thinking we should investigate it?” Martouf asked.

    “Why not. Whoever these people are they obviously have an interest in this planet. The council will certainly want to know why especially as there is nothing of note mineral wise about this planet no appreciable quantities of naquada or trinium which is why neither Ra nor P’tah turned it into a slave world after their Jaffa conquered the planet.”

    “Good point. Alright we’ll go down and take a look. Have you figured out where the signal is being directed?”

    “Of course, the signal is being directed to just outside the abandoned bunker complex that houses this planets Stargate.” As she spoke Freyr entered a command on her console causing the holographic heads-up display to appear showing exactly where on the planet the signal from the alien warship was being directed to. It was an open area just outside the entrance to the bunker complex – which was built into the foothills of a volcanic mountain range that ran like a spine up the eastern side of the continent that the Linkoteans had called Vallarta – that in the past had housed a small air base for the Vallarta nations embryonic air combat forces, which had been destroyed with contemptuous ease by the Jaffa pilots who’d taken part in the attack on Linkotis.

    “Alright I’ll take us down. Keep an eye on the cloaking device for me, will you? You know how twitchy the device on this cargo ship can get when we enter an atmosphere.”

    “Of course, we will,” Anise replied, “though remind me to take a look at that when we get back to Vorash. It shouldn’t be doing that whenever we enter an atmosphere under cloak.”

    “Not a problem,” Martouf answered as he began directing the cargo ship onto a new course that would see them drop down into the atmosphere of Linkotis and from there to the location indicated on the HUD. It would only take a minute or two to complete the atmospheric entry manoeuvre and a minute or two after that to reach the surface and hopefully get some answers as to why some obviously technologically advanced unknown aliens were interested in such an otherwise unremarkable planet. Once they had some answers they’d leave and make their way back to the Tok’ra base on Vorash.

    At least that was the plan.

    ~~//~~

    LInkotean Stargate Facility
    That Same Time


    Jar’un offered no resistance as his captors marched him through the abandoned bunker complex, a complex that everywhere he looked on the main level showed evidence of the running fight between the Linkoteans and his fellow Jaffa that had taken place here. He knew better than to offer any sort of fight as not only were his hands bound behind him by restraining cuffs – that he could tell from the feel of them if nothing else, would be very hard for him to break even with his superior strength – but at least two of his captors had their rifles aimed at him at any given time. He did not doubt that they would gun him down in an instant should he try anything foolish like trying to escape.

    What he did find unnerving though was just how quiet his captors were as they walked. There armour looked advanced and clearly metallic, as were their combat boots, yet they made virtually no noise as they moved. For someone who was used to the familiar, and to a Jaffa somewhat comforting, clank of heavy boots it was quite disconcerting. Though I suppose it makes sense they’re quiet, he thought, they don’t want their enemies to know their coming. When he thought about it like that it actually made far more sense than the sound Jaffa boots – like his own were still making – made as they marched towards battle or whatever other task had been assigned to them by whichever false god they were in service to.

    A part of him had to wonder just why their boots had to make that sound.

    He didn’t have anymore time to think about it as they passed through the broken heavy doors – doors that had been shattered and half melted by a proximity blast from an Al’kesh dropped plasma charge, while thick steel was enough protection from the chemically propelled Linkotean weapons its effectiveness against the plasma energy-based weapons of the Goa’uld was distinctly subpar – into the bright light of the Linkotean sun. In front of them was a crumbling concrete carpark – with several burned-out vehicles that to Terran eyes looked like something out of the 1940’s still present – that had been heavily damaged by Al’kesh bombing runs as well as death glider strafing runs. Beyond the car park – past the broken remains of a perimeter fence – grasslands ran for a good kilometre or so before the beginning of a tree line.

    A rumbling sound from above caught Jar’un’s attention and he looked up to see a large vaguely conical ship coming into land. He immediately noticed that its presence did not seem to come as a surprise to his captors, clearly, they were expecting it. Which meant that they had at least one warship in orbit, which had by now no doubt engaged and destroyed Lord Solec’s flagship. Something that he knew would not go down well with Lord P’tah as the loss of any mothership was always a blow to a System Lords forces at any time given the amount of time and effort needed to build one but right now it would be even more so given the ongoing work with Sokar and his armies.

    It also marked these aliens/humans or whatever they were, wherever they were from, as a potentially very serious threat. A threat that the Goa’uld, in the normal response to such things, would no doubt go all out to eliminate once they were in a position to do so. Something that he knew they were not right now, not with their empire gripped by its first all out civil war in many millennia. Still when he was inevitably interrogated by his captors, either on their ship or back on their homeworld, he would make them aware of the danger they had put themselves in by coming here and alerting the Goa’uld to their existence.

    It would be the least he could, in good conscience, do for them.

    ~~//~~

    Unaware, and in truth he wouldn’t have cared if he had been aware of them, of his prisoners’ thoughts Colonel Ferretti had mixed feelings as he observed the Frandlar Tiluvo-class dropship coming in to land. On one hand the Zentraedi dropship represented the quickest, easiest way off this planet at this time – something that was especially important at the moment given that both his team and Zentraedi cruiser had already been attacked once – which he was grateful for. But on the other hand, there was a part of him that remembered the last time he had seen one of those things during the war when it had landed and deployed an assault force of battlepods. Thus, the sight of the thing filled that part of him with fear as he knew what was likely to be inside it, even if they were not going to be deployed.

    A quick glance around confirmed to him that he wasn’t the only one with mixed feelings at the sight of the Zentraedi dropship. The war with them was still so fresh in everyone’s minds – and the devastation that it had brought especially when Dolza bombarded Earth with reflex weaponry killing billions in seconds – he supposed it was a perfectly natural reaction for career soldiers, or indeed anyone else who’d been involved in the conflict in any shape or fashion, to have. As with everyone else it would take a long time, a very long time really, for him to truly come to terms with the horrors of the Robotech War and heal from it. Well as much as anyone could heal from a war that had killed three quarters of their entire race with many never having seen the faces of those who killed them, just felt the searing heat of immensely powerful energy beams before their lives were extinguished.

    The dropship landing a few hundred meters away, kicking up quite a windstorm and a blizzard of grass pollen brought him out of his thoughts and memories. The downwash from the thrusters died away fairly quickly, though not before all of them got a thorough dusting in grass pollen. Man, I’m glad these helmets are NBC sealed, he thought knowing that quite a few of them, himself included, would have descended into a most undignified sneezing fit otherwise as he and grass pollen didn’t get on at all. Which was why when it came to mowing the lawn at home his wife always did it instead of him, joking every time that he was a now genetically enhanced special forces commando but something as simple as a few grains of grass pollen could have him sneezing his brains out.

    “Alright everyone let’s move out,” he said into the common communication frequency. Without waiting for a reply, he began leading the way towards where the dropship had landed, its embarkation ramp opening with the faint whirring of incredibly powerful and advanced hydraulics. His helmet HUD showed that the rest of the squad and their prisoner were following him, Peters and Wilson continuing to keep their beam rifles trained on the back of their prisoner - ready to gun him down if he tried anything funny.

    They had almost reached the dropship when two full-size Zentraedi – dressed in what they considered light combat armour, but which to human sized beings was enough metal to build an aircraft carrier – carrying assault rifles emerged from inside and took up guarding positions on either side of the ramp. Ferretti resisted the impulse to laugh when their captive abruptly stopped moving, instead he turned slightly to see the Jaffa staring at the two fifty-foot-tall humanoids in shock, awe and if he wasn’t wrong a small but completely understandable amount of fear.

    “What, what are they?” Jar’un asked as he gazed upon the two giant aliens. In all the years he had served the false gods he had never, ever seen a living being that massive before. Indeed, to the best of his knowledge no Jaffa in their entire history – from the moment the Goa’uld first gave them their strength and combat prowess on Dakara – had ever encountered a being such as these. In fact, he was willing to bet that the Goa’uld hadn’t either, not that they would ever admit it as it would mean admitting that they were not the all-powerful, all-knowing gods that they liked to claim to be.

    “They’re called Zentraedi,” Ferretti replied and though he knew Jar’un wouldn’t see it due to his opaque faceplate he smiled. “Never seen a literal giant before, have you? There whole species is like that.” Well unless they choose to get micronized down to our size, he thought, then aside from slight differences in skin and hair tones they look no different to us. He wasn’t about to mention that to their prisoner though, it would literally be like opening a can of worms and he had no desire to explain the differences between micronized and full sized Zentraedi and how it was possible to go between the two states. Frankly just thinking about that whole thing gave him the creeps, he could only imagine what it would be like to see the process in action as both Commander Hayes and Captain Hunter had that time, they’d been held prisoner aboard Commander Breetai’s flagship.

    “No,” Jar’un replied unable to take his gaze of the impossibly tall creatures standing on either side of the ramp. There was no doubt in his mind that even one of these Zentraedi could annihilate an entire column of Jaffa by stepping on them if nothing else while their armour would likely not even notice the bolts from a ma’tok staff.

    “You’ll get used to them,” Ferretti answered before gesturing with the tip of his rifle. Somehow Jar’un didn’t find those words at all reassuring, in fact the prospect of spending more time with such massive beings was downright terrifying. It almost made him wish that the energy beam had hit his heart and killed him instead of inflicting a nasty wound on his shoulder, a wound that was already nearly completely healed due to his prim’tah. “Alright enough staring, get aboard the dropship.”

    Jar’un grimaced, glanced worriedly up at the intimidating figures who were carrying weapons big enough to be a Ha’tak’s light staff cannon, before doing as he was bid. Carefully moving up the ramp into the interior of the dropship which was an absolutely cavernous space that was honestly bigger than any Goa’uld throne room he’d ever been in – which was saying something given how the Goa’uld liked to make their throne rooms large, elaborate affairs to show off their wealth and ‘divine’ power – and it wasn’t empty either. Instead, all around the perimeter of the space were alcoves in which sat a huge vaguely egg-shaped machine with legs attached and a large number of what were obviously weapons systems. Though powered down and inert each still towered over Jar’un, and he inwardly shuddered to think just how big the machines would be if stood up, not to mention that he got the distinct impression that even one of these things could take on an entire army of Jaffa and annihilate it without breaking a sweat.

    The sound of the door closing caught his attention, he turned around to see that the rest of the aliens had come aboard, as had the giants, without him hearing them. Somehow the idea that even the giants could move without being heard sent a shiver of sheer terror down his spine. Universe, he hoped that these people and his own never came to blows again, they would massacre the Jaffa regardless of anything they – or even the Goa’uld – could do to stop them. Whoever his captors, and these Zentraedi, were they clearly possessed a level of technology and capability that was almost beyond comprehension.

    The door closed with a thud and a whirring of powerful locks engaging. A second later a rumbling sound filled the dropship, and he then experienced a curious sensation as though something was dropping away, though it only lasted for a nanosecond or two. We must be airborne, he thought.

    “So now what are you going to do with me,” he asked.

    “You’ll stay here with us until we rendezvous with Captain Serval’s ship,” Ferretti replied, “then one of the Zentraedi will take you to a holding facility where you will remain until after we’ve folded back home.”

    Jar’un grimaced but nodded. It was kind of what he had expected after all though what did Colonel Ferretti mean by folding? Then he realized it was obviously some kind of faster than light travel method, much like the hyperspace drive used by Goa’uld and just about everyone’s from the Serrakin to the Asgard for interstellar travel.

    Abruptly there came a dull thud and the dropship shivered slightly. More thuds followed and the dropship shivered each time.

    “What the hell,” Ferretti exclaimed before looking up at one of the two towering Zentraedi guards, who was talking on his helmet comm. The Zentraedi noticed he was looking and finished his conversation.

    “Colonel Ferretti,” the Zentraedi reported as more thuds made the deck beneath them shiver. “That was the cockpit they report that we’re coming under primitive anti-aircraft cannon fire from the ground. The explosions are proving surprisingly powerful for such a crude weapon, it appears to have been enhanced through the use of powdered sekitan.”

    “Ack, ack well I suppose that fits with this planet apparent technology level,” Ferretti replied, even as he inwardly wondered what sekitan was. He would have to look it up later as it was bound to be some reference to it in the database downloaded from the SDF-1 after she first arrived given that the Zentraedi knew the name. “Where’s the fire coming from and how long till we’re out of range?”

    “The cannon fire is originating from concealed positions in the jungle,” the Zentraedi replied as more blasts shook the dropship. “We should be out of range in another minute.”

    As the Zentraedi spoke a powerful explosion shook the dropship and the deck abruptly tilted sharply to one side making everyone stumble. The deck stabilized but then another blast shook the deck like a sharp, two-second earthquake and the distant rumbling of the dropships fusion turbine engines died away. It was immediately obvious that they had been hit and had lost engine power.

    “Colonel the cockpit reports we’ve been hit,” the Zentraedi who’d been speaking reported, “primary propulsion systems have failed. We’re falling back towards the surface, estimated time to impact sixty seconds. They’ve deployed emergency chutes to slow us down to a safe landing speed. Sir allow me and my colleague to get you and your prisoner to a crash safe area.”

    Ferretti blinked but nodded. Immediately both Zentraedi squatted down and – with both incredible dexterity and incredible gentleness began picking the expedition team and their Jaffa prisoner up. Then once they had them all they began running for the nearest crash station.

    ~~//~~

    Tok’ra Vessel
    A Few Minutes Earlier


    Martouf and Freyr blinked in surprise as they came upon where the signal from the orbiting alien warship was being directed. A large vaguely conical craft – that according to their sensors was a hundred and ten meters wide at its base and forty-three meters tall – had just landed on the surface of the planet, throwing up a cloud of grass pollen as it did so. Though absolutely enormous in comparison it was clearly the alien equivalent of the tel’shak used by the Goa’uld and served the same function as a dropship.

    “Impressive,” Freyr commented even as she started working the sensors to learn more about the craft. Immediately the results came in. “Interesting.”

    “What is it,” Martouf asked a moment before a huge ramp-like door on the side of the craft opened and two impossibly huge humanoids in enough armour to cover a Cheops-class mothership came running down it and took up guard positions on either side. “Impossible.”

    “What?” Freyr asked before following his shocked gaze and gasping herself as she saw the giant humanoids. They can’t be real we must be seeing things, she thought.

    “If you and Martouf are seeing things then so are Lantash and I Freyr,” Anise said to her, “check the sensors that will surely tell you if they’re real or not.”

    “Good point,”
    Freyr answered and checked the sensors. The results were startling, the aliens were real living creatures. Creatures that were bigger by far than anything anyone known to the Tok’ra had ever seen before - well to the best of both her and Anise’s knowledge at least.

    “Are they real,” Martouf asked.

    “They are,” Freyr confirmed, “whatever they call themselves these aliens are literally giants and if I am reading these bio signs correctly – there is an odd energy signature there that I’ve never seen before anywhere let alone in a life form – they’re a human stock species.”

    “Impossible humans cannot grow that big,” Lantash objected.

    “Not without some artificial intervention anyway though this is far beyond anything we’ve ever thought possible,” Freyr answered. “And it appears they’re not alone. We’re reading a sizeable number of humans, and one Jaffa, boarding the dropship. The former must have come through the Stargate and the warship came here to pick them up.”

    “I’m surprised they didn’t just go back through the Stargate,” Martouf commented. “Unless they were attacked by an advanced squad of P’tah’s Jaffa sent through the Stargate ahead of Solec’s arrival. It would explain their prisoner and why their warship sent a dropship down to pick them up.”

    “A logical assessment,” Freyr agreed a moment before her console gave a crystalline-sounding chirp. “The dropship is lifting off. Strange it appears to be using some kind of fusion-based reaction engines not an inertial engine.”

    “That’s a bit strange,” Martouf replied, “should we follow them back into orbit?”

    “I don’t see why not.”

    Martouf nodded and began guiding the cargo ship after the steadily rising dropship…

    …a moment before puffs of black smoke began appearing all around both it and them.

    “What the hell,” he exclaimed as two near misses rattled the Tel’tak.

    “It’s anti-aircraft fire of some kind. Unguided, high explosive projectiles,” Freyr answered scanning her sensors even as more ack, ack exploded around them. “Multiple points of origin concealed within the forest. Curious, the projectiles are exploding with more force than I would expect for such a primitive weapon.”

    “Naquada enhanced? We know that the Vallartan nation state was trying to get its hands on naquada. It was a raid of theirs on one of P’tah’s mines that prompted the attack on Linkotis after all.”

    “No, the unknown signature in the explosives is not naquada, its not powerful enough. Neither I nor Anise have any idea what it is.”

    Martouf blinked but before he, or Lantash, could offer any response two tremendous impacts in rapid succession rocked the cargo ship. Sparks abruptly shot out of a number of crystal trays and a warning sounded.

    “We just lost the cloak. Taking evasive action.”

    Even as he spoke, he started moving the cargo ship into a planned series of moves to thwart the aim of the hidden gunners below. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite quick enough as he had barely begun the first turning when three blasts in succession struck them and something vital in the rear compartment blew with a bang. A second later all his controls went dead as the Tel’tak lost all power.

    “Shit main power’s out,” he exclaimed.

    “We’re on it,” Anise replied getting up and moving towards the rear compartment to reroute the power using the various crystal trays.

    “It’s too late we’re going down. Impact in thirty seconds get in the pods,” Martouf replied leaping to his feet. Knowing better than to argue Freyr/Anise began racing for the closest of the sarcophagus-like escape pods at the back of the cockpit. There would not be enough time to launch them before they slammed into the ground, but the pods would at least keep them safe from the inevitable impact.

    Martouf followed and within seconds they were both safely cocooned within a pod each. No sooner than the doors closed and sealed but the cargo ship bucked and shook knocking both Tok’ra back against the pod walls – robbing both of consciousness near instantly – as the cargo ship crashed onto the surface of Linkotis and skidded for nearly a kilometre throwing up great waves of dirt and grass before coming to a smouldering stop…

    …several dozen meters from where the alien dropship they’d been following also smashed hard into the unyielding earth.

    ~~//~~

    Vallartan Survivors Encampment
    A Few Moments Later


    “General.”

    Standing before the map table, where he had been carefully surveying suitable encampment sites for the coming winter as they couldn’t stay here near the foothills of Mount Sarana, General Varen, formally of Imperial Guard now just one of a few hundred survivors of the Goa’uld attack a decade ago turned at the sound of one of his staffer’s voices.

    “Yes,” he asked.

    “Sir our anti-aircraft positions report that they’ve just brought down two alien aircraft,” the officer reported, listening to the morse code-like message on his radio headset and translating it as he went along. “They were both attempting to take off from the vicinity of our former base. Sir one is Goa’uld, the other is of unknown origin.”

    “So, the Goa’uld have returned, and they’ve brought a friend with them. Probably to rob the bodies of those of our brothers who didn’t get out of their alive.”

    “Looks that way sir. Orders?”

    “Do we have any patrols in that area?”

    “Yes, sir. Captain Nellin’s patrol base is nearby. Given how dense the forest is at this time of year they’ll be able to reach the crash sites in fifteen minutes.”

    “Send them have them search for and detain any survivors. Once they have them, they’re to bring them straight here for interrogation. Advise our people to prepare.”

    “Yes sir.”

    As his underling scrambled to relay his orders Varen turned back to the table, though he no longer saw the maps of the terrain around here. Instead, his thoughts were dominated by the fact that after all this time the Goa’uld had returned to Linkotis and seemed to have brought a friend with them. The question was why as despite his words to the underling he doubted that grave robbing had been their goal, they’d already taken all they could salvage from the base though sadly they had not really had time to recover the bodies of their dead brothers and provide the proper funerary rites. Survival had sadly taken priority over all else, especially as the Goa’uld attack had come in late autumn just days before the first snows in fact.

    No, he didn’t think grave robbing was what they had come for. They’d come for something else, something that wasn’t immediately obvious. The question was what had they come for? After a moment he shrugged and got back to work planning where to go this winter. There would be time to find answers to what had brought the enemy here again when Captain Nellin brought the survivors of the crashed ships here and they were rigorously interrogated for information.

    Right now, he had a winter encampment site to find, the one they’d used last year being closed to them due to a lava effusion from Mount Sarana last month. Still, he would admit that there was a part of him that looked forward to overseeing the interrogation of the enemy, overseeing it and maybe getting a little bit of payback for what they had done to his people and the noble destiny of the Vallartan people to rule Linkotis that they had taken away from them.

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust. I hope you all enjoyed it. I admit I had great fun writing Jar’un’s reaction to seeing full sized Zentraedi and seeing – thankfully for him inactive – Robotech battle mecha for the first time. Next chapter will hopefully wrap up the events on Linkotis, will Varen’s people be able to take prisoners, or will the patrol find itself on the business end of robotech weapons wielded by pissed off STORM Commandoes and pissed off Zentraedi? Will the two Tok’ra survive or be taken prisoner. All should be revealed in the next chapter. Until next time.
     
    Chapter Nine
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Nine

    Zentraedi Cruiser
    Linkotis Orbit


    Standing in his command blister Captain Serval blinked in a combination of surprise and outrage at the report that had just come from the main level of the bridge below. The dropship, which had been returning to the ship after picking up the Terran marines and a prisoner they’d taken, had been fired on without warning or provocation by previously unknown anti-aircraft positions. While the alien explosives were fairly primitive – well compared to modern plasma warheads anyway – they had apparently used powdered sekitan in the warhead making the detonations that bit hotter and more energetic than what such a simple explosive as trinitrotoluene would normally produce.

    While unusually energetic the blasts had – according to their sensors – should not have really been a threat to the dropship. Normally they would not have been, but the alien gunners had gotten lucky in that they’d scored a direct hit on the dropships main launch thrusters. While the thrusters hadn’t been destroyed it had caused an overpressure wave to ripple back through the plasma stream from the fusion turbine engine causing the engine to automatically shut down to prevent a loss of plasma containment – which would have led to the dropship blowing itself, and everybody aboard, to bits. Being only at most two thousand feet above the ground there had been no time for the flight crew to redirect the plasma flow to another port and restart the turbine letting them continue their ascent.

    Instead, the only thing that they had been able to do was deploy their emergency parachutes allowing a somewhat controlled emergency landing.

    “What’s the status of the dropship,” he asked.

    “Sir the dropship has crashed back onto the surface of the planet a few hundred meters from its launch position,” sensors reported, “curious we are now picking up another vessel impacting the surface a few hundred meters from the dropship.”

    “Another ship? Where in Zor’s name did it come from?”

    “Unknown sir. It’s like it just appeared out of nowhere, though from the energy residual were picking up it was certainly hit by the same flack shells as our dropship.”

    “I see. Flight operations begin preparing to launch another dropship with a full fighter pod escort this time. We will send them down to pick up any survivors from the first dropship,” Serval ordered. “Pilot move the ship down into a lower orbit. Sensors scan the surface, locate all the native’s anti-aircraft guns and, if they are not too close to the crashed ships, feed those coordinates to the gunnery crews. Once the ship is in position, we will destroy the anti-aircraft positions from orbit.”

    “Yes sir.”

    As the crew began carrying out his instructions, and the ship began to move down into a slightly lower orbit of the planet so they could be a bit more precise with the upcoming bombardment, Serval considered the attack upon the dropship that had taken place a few minutes ago. He honestly couldn’t understand why the natives had fired upon the dropship as to the best of his knowledge neither the dropship crew or the Terran investigation team had threatened or encountered them at all. Thus, it made no logical sense for them to fire upon the dropship. Unless they were actually firing at the other ship, he thought, and our dropship was just hit by accident by their primitive guns.

    While it was a possibility, he actually doubted that was the case. Far too much fire had been directed both at the dropships position and along its ascent path for it to have been anything other than someone deliberately targeting them. While he didn’t know the reason for that it at the end of the day didn’t matter, they would recover the survivors from the crash – hopefully that would be everyone as he didn’t fancy telling Commander Breetai or Admiral Gloval that some of either of their people had been killed – but first he would eliminate the anti-aircraft positions, and the crews manning them, that had dared to open fire.

    “Captain, ground scans have located all anti-aircraft positions within conceivable firing range of any ships we send down,” sensors reported. “Coordinates have been transferred to the gunnery crews.”

    “How many individual positions are there,” Serval asked.

    “Twenty-four, sir. We estimate there to be four guns at each position.”

    Twenty-four that’s a bit excessive for such a small area, Serval thought a little incredulous as he did a little mental math and worked out that between those twenty-four positions there would be ninety-six anti-aircraft cannons. It was an almost ludicrous amount of anti-aircraft capability – albeit very primitive capability – for such a relatively small area and was obviously designed to bring any hostile aircraft down through sheer weight of fire if nothing else. “Understood,” he said at last. “How long until we are in position to take them out?”

    “Approximately sixty seconds sir.”

    “Very well inform me when we are ready. Flight operations have the recovery dropship and escort launch as soon as our laser bombardment finishes.”

    “Sir we are in position now. Gunnery crews report weapons configured for planetary bombardment; final targeting calibrations are complete. We await your command.”

    “Then by all means… fire.”

    ~~//~~

    On the ventral hull of the Zentraedi cruiser twenty-four particle/laser combination cannon turrets – each looking vaguely like a pair of vampire fangs bared ready to suck the blood from a victim – made their final adjustments before the generator rails crackled with energy. An instant later each cannon fired sending a bluish-white shaft of hyper-charged, compressed photons streaking down towards the surface of Linkotis.

    Travelling at light speed the beams sliced into the atmosphere nearly instantaneously and powered down towards the surface. Clouds in the path of the beams simply disintegrated into nothingness as the intense energies simply boiled them away while simultaneously superheating the air around them. Hurricane force winds blasted outwards – tearing apart the normal pattern of Linkotis’ Jetstream winds, starting a chain reaction that would disrupt weather patterns all over the planet, weather patterns that had only recently gotten back to somewhere near their norms after the bombardment the planet had endured at the hands of the Goa’uld – even as the beams reached and slammed into their targets.

    For the Vallartan anti-aircraft gun crews there was no warning and no hope of escape, in fact none of them even realized that they were under attack as the massive shafts of energy slammed into their positions. Human bodies, and indeed anything organic within several hundred meters of the impact point, flashed to vapour instantly as they were suddenly subjected to temperatures normally only found near the heart of a star. The anti-aircraft guns themselves fared little better for in nanoseconds at most the barrels glowed first red, then white hot before melting and vaporising themselves. Munitions for the guns dissolved into their component atoms as well, being heated so quickly and thoroughly that they didn’t have chance to cook off. Superheated shockwaves – much like those produced by nuclear explosions, minus the radioactive fallout – blasted outwards from the impact points obliterating the previously concealing forest for miles around and starting fires that would burn for days.

    The beams vanished; their work completed. If anyone had been able to get near the impact points, they would have seen nothing but a scene of utter devastation. Where there had once been large guns, munitions stores and temporary housing for the gunnery crews there was nothing but deep craters in the ground. Craters that smouldered and steamed as though two dozen new volcanic mouths had opened on the surface of the planet. An illusion that would have been helped by the orange glow in most of them where parts of the underlying bedrock had been transmuted into sluggish lava by the intense heat of the lasers.

    High above the Zentraedi cruiser briefly surveyed the destruction that its weapons had just visited upon the surface of Linkotis. The cruiser checking for any batteries that might be in range to interfere further in the mission to recover the survivors of the crashed dropship. Soon satisfied that there were none, or at very least satisfied that if any had survived that could potentially engage, they would be too intimidated by the power of robotech weaponry to reveal themselves, the cruiser retracted her gun turrets.

    Seconds later from one of her hangar decks launched another Frandlar Tiluvo-class dropship and a full squadron of Gnerl fighters. Quickly but silently, they angled around and shot towards the surface aiming right for the crashed ship with only one thought and one goal in mind…

    …saving the lives of their brothers and allies who had been shot down without warning or provocation by the natives.

    ~~//~~

    Crashed Dropship
    That Same Time


    Colonel Ferretti grunted slightly as he picked himself up from the somewhat padded floor of the crash compartment that the two Zentraedi had taken his investigation team, and their prisoner, too. Like everyone else he had been thrown flying as the dropship hit the surface of this planet, though thankfully nothing was broken – at least according to the medical readout on his helmet HUD – though he was sure he had quite a few bruises that would take two or three days to heal completely.

    “Is everyone alright,” he asked speaking into the common communications frequency. He was more than a little relieved when everyone responded that aside from some slight, if painful, bruising they were all alright. He glanced at the prisoner they’d taken. “Are you alright?”

    “I am fine. A few bruises but my prim’tah is already dealing with them,” Jar’un replied even as he blinked in surprise at the question. Generally, when a Jaffa was taken as a prisoner, they were not normally asked such things, if they were asked anything at all it was usually for information on the strength and disposition of their master’s forces. Questions that were normally accompanied by brutal torture either with a pain stick or the kara’kesh of a Goa’uld. The fact that he had been asked instead if he was alright, and he could hear genuine concern in the filtered voice of the alien commander, was thus quite shocking. But then the more that he saw of these people the more he realized that they were truly something that no Jaffa had ever encountered before. Oh, there was no denying that they were warriors – and extremely capable ones at that – but there was something else about this race, or should that be races given the two literal giants he had already seen, that said that they could be the ones who could be able to free the Jaffa from their long enslavement to the Goa’uld…

    …or the ones who would annihilate them both.

    If ever asked Jar’un would admit that he had no idea where that particular realisation came from. After all it wasn’t like he knew much about these people – the little he had seen so far only really showing him that they possessed a level of technology that had to be comparable to that of the Goa’uld – but he just knew it. It was a very strange feeling to be sure and unlike anything that he had ever felt in all of his fifty-seven years. But it was true, and he got the distinct impression that his actions, and how he responded when he was inevitably interrogated, would be pivotal in determining how they treated not just himself but his fellow Jaffa all over the galaxy. Silently he vowed to do the best he could to secure their help in creating a better future for the Jaffa, a future where they would no longer have to serve false gods.

    He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of the door to the small, padded compartment they’d been put in, opening. On the other side was one of the two giant armoured humanoids that Colonel Ferretti had referred to as Zentraedi. “Colonel Ferretti are you all alright?” the Zentraedi asked.

    “Aside from a few bumps and bruises we’re okay,” Ferretti replied. “What’s our status?”

    “We have crashed back onto the surface only a few hundred meters from where we first took off,” the Zentraedi replied. “All propulsion systems are now offline, the shock of the impact has caused serious damage to the innards of the fusion turbine engine, it is unlikely that it will work again without significant repairs. However, Captain Serval is sending another dropship down to retrieve us along with a full fighter pod escort.”

    “What about the anti-aircraft positions that fired upon us?” Ferretti asked concerned for the pilots of the ships on their way down from the orbiting Zentraedi cruiser.

    “All those positions that would have been in position to potentially fire upon our incoming ships have been destroyed by a precise orbital laser bombardment.”

    Though it was hidden behind his helmet faceplate Ferretti smirked slightly at that. That bombardment would certainly discourage any surviving native anti-aircraft positions from firing upon their reinforcements – they would have to be arrogant, insane, or generally stupid to try anything knowing that it would be answered by a laser beam attack from orbit. His smirk faded though as he thought about the crews manning the guns crews who would have been killed in the laser assault, though thankfully they wouldn’t have known anything as the intense heat and power of capital ship lasers – designed as they were to burn through alloys that made their best pre-robotech armours as effective as tissue paper - would have vaporized them before they even realized that they were under attack.

    “I see,” he said at last. “How long until the other dropship arrives?”

    “They’re on their way down now and should reach us in eight Terran minutes,” the Zentraedi answered calmly. “However, before they arrive you as the ranking officer here, have a decision to make.”

    “Oh?”

    “Shortly after we crashed another vessel came down two hundred and eighty-four meters to the north-west of us. Sensors indicate two life forms aboard though given that they are not moving they are likely to be unconscious, possibly even injured.”

    “Another ship! Why didn’t we detect it before we took off?”

    “Unknown. According to the cockpit crew the vessel didn’t appear on any of our sensors – or even our optical scopes – until a second or two after it was hit by the native anti-aircraft fire.”

    “I see,” Ferretti replied, his mind awhirl as he realized that the only reasonable way that could have happed is if, impossibly, the other ship had to have some form of real-life cloaking technology to have hidden from both sensors and visual detection. It was a technology that every robotechnologist he knew of from Dr Lang on down had said while theoretically possible just wasn’t really feasible to use. The energy demands needed to create that kind of advanced stealth technology being enormous, potentially being beyond the capabilities of their current power generation methods – as incredible as that seemed given how much power you got out of even the most basic protoculture-based power source – indeed the closest they had come to cloaking was using holographic camouflage in place of the traditional camouflage netting – which was completely ineffective against modern sensors. Clearly whoever the other ship belonged to had solved the power problem either by creating a superior power source, however unbelievable that sounded, or by finding some other work around.

    Either way it was something his superiors would really like to know more about if possible. And there was an obvious way to get those answers, even if it just meant taking the alien survivors back to Earth with them. After all, as soon as they were docked aboard his ship Captain Serval was sure to execute a space fold back to the relative safety of Sol.

    “I take it the decision I have to make is do we attempt to recover the survivors,” he asked, even though he already knew what the likely answer was. Given what he knew of the psychology of the Zentraedi – especially trooper caste Zentraedi, as one thing that many civilians on Earth didn’t understand was that the Zentraedi weren’t a monolithic warrior race like the fictional Klingons of Star Trek but had a number of biological subcastes among them from low level troopers all they way up to warlords like Breetai and advisors like Exedore – they were just waiting for the official order so they could act.

    “Yes, sir it is.”

    “Then you already know my answer trooper. We will recover the survivors from the crashed vessel,” Ferretti said firmly. “Not only am I not about to leave potentially wounded people at the mercy of the natives of whatever this planet is called…”

    “Linkotis,” Jar’un stated startling everyone and prompting Ferretti to break off speaking to the Zentraedi and look at the captured Jafa. “This planet’s name is Linkotis.”

    “Linkotis then,” Ferretti replied, “I am not about to leave whoever is on that ship at the mercy of the natives here. I don’t suppose you have any idea who the ship belongs to and who is aboard?”

    “That depends on if the craft is armed,” Jar’un responded knowing it could be any one of three Goa’uld craft especially with the recent introduction of the Nal’kesh long range bomber, “does it have any turrets?”

    “No, it’s unarmed,” the Zentraedi trooper replied.

    “Then it is certain to be a Tel’tak – a general purpose cargo vessel that can also be used as a scout ship due to the fact that it has both a hyperdrive and a cloaking device. My guess is that the crew aboard belong to the Tok’ra given that there are only two crew aboard,” Jar’un paused before, deciding to take the plunge and offer to help these people. He just hoped he was making the right decision. “Please when you go to it take me with you. I can show you how to access the vessel and from the fact that you said the lifeforms aboard aren’t moving the crew are probably in the escape pods. I can show you how to access them. I give you my word as a warrior that I will not attempt to escape or otherwise inflict harm upon either yourselves of the Tok’ra.”

    Ferretti blinked and looked closely at the captured alien warrior. He was a long-term believer in the old saying about how the eyes were the windows to a person’s soul and it was Jar’un’s eyes that he now paid close attention to, seeking the truth. Though he naturally couldn’t see the other mans face through the opaque silver of his faceplate Jar’un knew, from the body language if nothing else, that he was being assessed for truthfulness. Thus, he met the other man’s gaze as best as he could, hoping that this Colonel Ferretti would be able to read his truthfulness.

    The tableau held for a few seconds until Ferretti found himself satisfied that Jar’un was indeed telling the truth and was genuinely willing to help them. “Alright you can come,” he said at last while gesturing for Captain Chandler to remove the handcuffs binding him. Which the other commando quickly did, waving a specific chip over the cuffs causing them to unlock and fall away. “There your bonds are released. However, know this we will be watching you closely if you attempt to betray us…”

    “…you’ll kill me where I stand. I understand I would do the same,” Jar’un finished for him, even as part of him was offended that this human – as what else could he be – would question his honour in such a manner. He had given his word and he would keep it such was the way of the Jaffa. After a moment he pushed that part of himself away these aliens after all had no way of knowing the honour codes that bound the Jaffa honour codes that were - alongside their physical strength and longevity - one of the gifts/brides to ensure loyalty that the Goa’uld had given the Jaffa. And something that the Goa’uld were actually known to quite respect and had been known to handsomely reward – when it suited them.

    “Then we understand one another,” Ferretti replied before looking back at the Zentraedi trooper. “Trooper, open the embarkation ramp. And are any of the Regult battlepods still operational? Are there enough of your brothers here to run some of them?”

    “Yes, sir there are, and all the pods are functional though we only have enough personnel to operate half of them as we were not expecting a combat deployment,” the Zentraedi answered. “Why do you ask?”

    “Because I want you to form both a security perimeter around this dropship and a small escort group. Just in case the natives show up to give us more trouble.”

    “I understand sir. I will go and arrange the deployment. We will be ready in two or three minutes.”

    “Let me know when you’re ready.”

    “Yes sir.”

    ~~//~~

    A Few Minutes Later

    Accompanied by Jar’un, half of his commandoes – he had left the others in the dropship to both watch over the civilians members of their investigation team and to assist with security in case any attacking natives managed to get past the battlepods as he was well aware that it wasn’t that difficult for a trained human to slip past a Regult as Zentraedi sensors had difficulty tracking them due to their far smaller size – and flanked by four Regult battlepods Ferretti cautiously crossed the open ground towards the downed alien space ship. It really was a bizarre design, an elongated, slightly rounded pyramid that had its nose firmly buried in the dirt and which was smoking softly from small holes blown in the side of the fuselage by the surprisingly powerful native anti-aircraft guns.

    At least those won’t be a problem from here on out, he thought as he had seen the treeline and beyond it when they’d first emerged from the dropship. The thick plumes of smoke rising from numerous points in the forest had been clearly visible and he didn’t doubt that there now quite a sizeable number of fires raging in parts of the forest, fires ignited by the Zentraedi laser bombardment. Thankfully they were in no danger from said fires as the wind was blowing both them and the smoke away from them. Still while the guns themselves were no longer a threat he was cautious, thermal imaging showed a lot of movement in the forest while most of it was likely native animals fleeing the fires, he had to consider the possibility that some could well be native soldiers using the cover to creep up on them.

    Ferretti put the thoughts of the natives out of his mind for now as they arrived at the crashed alien ship. “Alright Jar’un show us how we get in,” he said to the Jaffa.

    “This way,” Jar’un replied, casting a wary glance up at the towering battle machines surrounding them. They had been intimidating folded down in their docked positions now, fully deployed and with their weapons systems completely visible, they were downright terrifying. There was now absolutely no doubt in his mind that just one of these things – what was it Colonel Ferretti had called them? Ah yes Regult battlepods – would make mincemeat out on entire column of Jaffa while being virtually immune to their counterfire as they were clearly designed and armed for a completely different style of warfare than the near ritualistic combat generally exercised by the Jaffa on behalf of the System Lords. A prospect that, when he thought about it, was quite frankly terrifying.

    Mentally he shook himself, pushing aside those thoughts for now, and focused on leading them all around to the other side of the crashed Tel’tak where he knew the airlock to be. Calmly he walked up to the control panel and tapped in one of the more common entry code sequences used by Goa’uld and Tok’ra alike – due to their long lifespans both were very much creatures of habit where these things were concerned – only for the control panel to flash red in negative. Okay not that sequence, he thought tapping in the next sequence that he knew…

    …thankfully this one was correct and with a rattling and whirring the trinium-naquada alloy outer doors opened revealing the airlock chamber beyond. Calmly he led the way inside, tapping the command to keep the outer doors opened even as he opened the inner door. As soon as the inner door opened a puff of smoke, impregnated with the acrid stench of overheated and overloaded control crystals, came from inside.

    “This way,” he said leading them inside, while wrinkling his nose at the smell. He was almost tempted to redeploy his helmet but resisted that impulse as it could be seen as threatening and he really didn’t want to get lasered again. Getting shot once in the arm today was bad enough – though the injury had since been healed by the baby Goa’uld in his pouch the memory of that burning pain wasn’t one he would forget in a hurry – he had no desire to get himself killed.

    “Sheesh somebody really likes bling,” Private Peterson commented over the squad frequency as they entered the interior of the ship – which was being lit by a few pale bluish-white, clearly emergency battery powered, lights. It was enough to see the interior and the gold-coloured walls which were lined with row after row of hieroglyphs. “And I thought my sister was vane. What’s with all the gold?”

    “We can find out later,” Ferretti replied, “though I agree there is a lot of gold. Though these hieroglyph patterns look more decorative than anything else. Make sure your suit cameras and sensors record everything. The intelligence boys back home will have a field day with anything we find.”

    “Yes sir.”

    While some of his commandoes spread out to investigate the rest of this cockpit area Ferretti and another two followed Jar’un to where four large pods – that looked like something that had stepped right out of a movie about Ancient Egypt – stood in alcoves two on each side of a doorway that led to a rear compartment. From which he could hear a faint, but slowly increasing and quite ominous sounding whine. “What’s that sound,” he asked aloud.

    “Something not very good if I am right the power core is damaged and starting to overload,” Jar’un replied, recognising the sound of a naquada generator in distress. Unfortunately, he didn’t know enough about Goa’uld technology – there was only so much a Jaffa could learn without the Goa’uld getting suspicious and paranoid that they were learning too much about how their ‘magic’ really worked and what it really was, which usually resulted in at least one very slow and painful death for the Jaffa in question sometimes even multiple deaths depending on how sadistic their ‘god’ was feeling at the time – to prevent the overload.

    “How long do we have,” Ferretti asked.

    “Based on the sound about fifteen minutes,” Jar’un replied even as he located the two manned pods. A few quick commands to the control console for the pods caused them to open revealing the two occupants slumped unconscious inside. One was a male of average height with brown hair whose short cut reminded Ferretti somewhat of the old pre-Global Civil War military haircuts – which he like everyone else who’d had to endure the blasted things over his career had been glad to see the back of – and who was dressed in some kind of brown tunic and trousers combo. The other pod was occupied by a tallish blond woman in a very tight fitting, sexy looking light green dress.

    “Shen get over here and scan these two,” Ferretti called to his combat medic.

    “Right away sir,” the young woman replied as she hurried over and carefully began scanning both individuals. “Whoa this is weird.”

    “What is?” Ferretti asked.

    “Sir I’m reading two distinctly different life forms in each of them,” Shen replied speaking aloud instead of over the comm frequency.

    “They’re Tok’ra you’re detecting their symbiotes,” Jar’un explained. “I recognise them both from Goa’uld wanted posters. The male is named Martouf and is the host of the symbiote Lantash, the female is called Freya and she’s host of the symbiote Anise.”

    “Are they alright Shen can we move them,” Ferretti asked.

    “Aside from some nasty bumps and bruises they’re find,” Shen replied, “most of their injuries appear to be healing at an incredible rate.”

    “That is the symbiotes,” Jar’un explained, “it is also why the wound you inflicted upon my arm earlier has healed. The immature Goa’uld symbiote in my abdominal pouch – my prim’tah – has dealt with the wound. Enhanced healing is one of the benefits they give us Jaffa for carrying the symbiote to maturity.”

    “You will have to tell us more about that later,” Ferretti replied, “let’s get them out of there people.”

    Moving forward Ferretti, with a little bit of help from Jar’un, carefully extracted Martouf from his pod. Beside them Peterson and Shen did the same from Freya. They were literally just clearing the threshold of the pods when the radio in Ferretti’s helmet crackled to life.

    “Colonel Ferretti this is trooper Soraz,” the rumbling voice of a full sized Zentraedi reported, “the replacement dropship is coming into land now. The last of our people from the other dropship are disembarking now.”

    “Understood we will be there momentarily,” Ferretti replied, “any sign of native soldiers?”

    “We have detected a number of micronian heat signatures moving through the jungle towards us, but I do not believe that they will arrive in time to stop us leaving,” the Zentraedi replied, “if you wish we could fire a few warning shots into the trees to discourage them from approaching further?”

    “That won’t be necessary,” Ferretti replied, “just make sure everyone is covered as they board the new dropship after it lands. Once that is done, destroy the original dropship I won’t leave it here for the natives to salvage anything from.”

    “Understood sir it will be as you wish,” the giant alien humanoid acknowledged before signing off.

    “Alright everyone let’s get out of here,” Ferretti said aloud, “our new dropship is coming into land now. So let us all get out of here and get aboard. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have seen quite enough of this planet for one day.”

    “Sir yes sir,” the other STORM commandoes acknowledged. Though they couldn’t see it of course Ferretti smiled back and, with a little aid from Jar’un – though between his armour’s nano-muscle servos and his own genetically augmented strength he hardly needed it – began carrying Martouf/Lantash’s unconscious form out of the crashed Tel’tak. Behind them Peterson and Shen followed with Freya/Anise with the other commandoes bringing up the rear all of them having a slight spring in their step. It was understandable as to why as after everything that had happened today it was time to leave this world.

    ~~//~~

    Linkotis Jungle
    A Few Minutes Later


    Captain Nellin swore softly as he and his team finally made there way out of the jungle in time to see the third alien spacecraft rising back into the sky on a pillar of radiant energy flame with four smaller craft rising on their own pillars around it. It had taken far longer than it should have for his team to get here from their patrol base, they had had to detour around what had been the location of one of their anti-aircraft gun positions. Had been because where the position had been there was now nothing but a smouldering crater, whose floor was covered with sluggish, slowly cooling lava, and burning vegetation. The guns and the crews that would have manned them simply gone – wiped from existence by an energy beam from orbit.

    The need to find away around the remains of the site and avoid the fire burning around the edges of the clearing – though it had thankfully been blown away from them towards the river Palancar – had really slowed them down. The shockwaves from the blasts that had destroyed every anti-aircraft position around here had knocked trees down everywhere and thrown car sized boulders around like cannon balls, had blocked their normal paths through the forest. Meaning they’d had to use machetes to hack their way through the undergrowth – while avoiding wildlife panicked by the fire – to get here.

    Only to be too late.

    The aliens who had dared to trespass on their planet were escaping. The original dropship that their anti-aircraft guns had brought down was shattered and burning, though they apparently had left the Goa’uld ship completely alone. Maybe they weren’t friends of the Goa’uld after all, he thought with a mental grimace. If that was indeed the case, then it meant that their anti-aircraft gunners had really jumped the gun when they’d opened fire upon that first dropship – and gotten themselves killed for it when what had to have been an orbiting alien warship rained gods forsaken lasers down upon their positions annihilating them in a few seconds.

    “Sir what your orders,” his second, lieutenant Sarna asked as they watched the alien spacecraft become distant points of light as they ascended towards orbit. “Should we try and salvage something from the wreckage of the first dropship or the crashed Goa’uld ship?”

    “We won’t get anything from that burning wreck,” Nellin replied gesturing to the burning dropship. “And I won’t risk boarding a Goa’uld ship with just a small squad like this. Everyone, return to base, we’ll summon reinforcements and then come for the Goa’uld.”

    Sarna scowled and was about to suggest that they try anyway with their small force. After all the vessel was small and couldn’t have a big crew but before he could begin to speak an ominous whine carried on the wind reached their ears. Frowning in confusion and concern both Vallartan Imperial Guardsman looked around for the source of the distressing sound.

    Nellin’s eyes landed on the Goa’uld ship just in time to see it light up from within before a fireball took its place and a wall of energy surged forth enveloping him and his men bringing with it a wave of intense heat and searing pain…

    …before everything went dark.

    ~~//~~

    Zentraedi Cruiser
    That Same Time


    Captain Serval blinked when abruptly his tactical feeds reported an explosion, comparable in size to a heavy anti-ship missile warhead, on the surface of the planet. A planet that, according to Colonel Ferretti – who he had just been speaking to – was called Linkotis.

    “Report where did that explosion come from,” he asked.

    “Sir sensors indicate that it came from the alien vessel that crashed near our first dropship,” sensors reported calmly. “Naquada based explosion, blast yield approximately twenty kilotons. It’s caused another, much larger, fire to begin in the area. Thankfully the nearest native encampment is some distance away and protected by a large river. They should be safe from the flames or at very least have plenty of time to escape.”

    “Understood,” Serval replied relieved that the natives would probably be alright, yes, they had attacked there first dropship – prompting him to destroy their anti-aircraft positions to protect the second one – but he did not hold any malice towards them. He certainly wouldn’t have wished the horrific death that they fire would have given them if it had been too close on anyone – not even the thrice damned Robotech Masters deserved that horrific fate. “Where is our dropship now?”

    “They’re just landing in the starboard hangar bay now sir.”

    “Very good. Pilot move us out of orbit, navigation begin plotting a hyperspace fold back to Earth.”

    “I already have the fold plotted sir,” the officer at navigation reported. “As soon as we’re fully out of the gravity well we will be able to safely execute the fold.”

    “Excellent. Initiate the fold as soon as you are able to.”

    “Yes sir.”

    ~~//~~

    For another two or three minutes the Zentraedi cruiser headed out into open space, moving farther and farther out from the gravity well of Linkotis. Finally, they cleared the gravity well and came to a complete stop. Seconds before a gyroscopic flash of blue eldritch energy surged around the ship before transforming into an energy bubble that to an observer would have looked like a ball of frosted glass giving the ship within the sphere the appearance of being inside a giant snow globe. Then the outline of the cruiser blurred as though becoming a ghost a few nanoseconds before the sphere – and the ship within – began to shrink reducing in size till they were no bigger than a tennis ball. Then the sphere shot off into the distance and vanished into the infinite realms of subspace on course for Sol.

    The first Terran and Zentraedi foray through the Stargate was over…. It would not be the last.

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the dust and the Linkotis arc of this story is completed. I hope you all enjoyed it. If anyone is wondering both Tok’ra will not wake up for a while but when they do, they will be aboard the Robotech Factory Satellite over Earth. Hopefully the next chapter won’t be quite so long in coming as this one was but naturally, I cannot make any promises, you know how real life can be. Until next time.

    Edit (22/09/2022): Reduced the size of the explosion from the Tel'tak following feedback on other sites.
     
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    Chapter Ten
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Authors Note: This chapter was originally going to be another interlude chapter but as these things sometimes do it took on a life of its own and has since graduated into a full-length chapter. Chapter events run concurrent with chapters eight and nine.

    ~~~///~~~

    Chapter Ten

    Lake Gloval
    New Macross City
    That Same Time


    Doctor Emil Lang climbed out of the small electric car he had just parked in its normal bay. However, he didn’t immediately begin moving to enter the research complex where he now worked, endeavouring to unlock yet more of the secrets and mysteries of robotechnology. While they had learned so much since that day twelve years ago when the SDF-1 fell out of the sky and crashed on Macross Island they still knew comparatively little about the more complex, not to mention esoteric, aspects of the incredible suite of sciences and technologies that came under the catch all term of robotechnology.

    Unfortunately, that was not why he had come here today, it was after all his day off and even with his rank and position the UEG representative in the building – a somewhat stuck in the mud American bureaucrat named Richard Woolsey, who honestly reminded him of the holographic doctor from the pre-arrival sci-fi series Star Trek: Voyager, not that he would ever admit to watching it - wouldn’t hesitate to tell him off for coming in when he was not scheduled to work. No what had brought him here was the thing across the street from his workplace, and which had been in every single dream he had had for the last few days.

    That something was of course the SDF-1 which towered like a modern colossus over the streets and buildings of New Macross City. For all that she had been through, and despite the fact that she would never fly again there was simply too much damage from that devastating battle with Dolza and the Zentraedi Grand Armada, the ship stood like a giant mechanical sentinel – protecting the people of this city as she had done every day since that fateful day when they’d been dumped out by Pluto by there one and only attempt to fold space. An attempt that they knew now – from talking with the Zentraedi – to have been doomed to go wrong from the start due to them folding so deep inside Earth’s gravity well. If only we had known, he thought not that it would have really changed anything given the sheer amount of forces the Zentraedi at that time had been able to call upon.

    Mentally he shrugged off those thoughts. There was no point in dwelling upon what might have been after all. That whole ‘what if’ question was after all potentially a very dangerous kind of thought to fall into. Instead, he told himself firmly to live in the here and now, which currently included trying to figure out why this ship – and a specific part of her near the control room for the reflex furnaces, none of which was anywhere near operational any longer due to damage with only the ships secondary fusion generators working and those were only doing so to provide the lion’s share of electrical power to New Macross City. Though even that would change in a few more months once they finished building the new power plant a few miles outside the city limits.

    Knowing there was really only one thing for it he glanced around, noting that the street was quiet which was not unusual for this time in the morning, before crossing and beginning to make his way towards the now largely derelict battlefortress. As he got closer the evidence of the SDF-1’s last ferocious battle with Dolza and the main Zentraedi Fleet became more readily apparent. The hull was covered with a mosaic of pits, tears and cracks – which had been sealed over by nano polymer layers in the hull giving it the appearance of having scabbed over – not to mention a seemingly endless number of scorch marks. It made the ship look somewhat like an old prize fighter, proudly displaying the scars of a lifetime of combat.

    Not for the first time it occurred to him that it was frankly a miracle that they had survived that battle and managed to land the badly damaged vessel back here on Earth. After all, while the surface damage looked extensive it was nothing compared to the damage inside the ship as the self-repair systems could really only do so much and generally prioritized maintaining the integrity of the hull itself and certain essential supporting sections of the ships internal spaceframe. Which, the last time he looked at it, now somewhat resembled a giant lump of bizarrely shaped Swiss cheese from all the holes that had been blown in it during the battle. It was honestly a wonder that the ship hadn’t broken apart during re-entry from all the damage she’d sustained, though it was also a testament to the incredible strength of the metals that made up the hull and support structures that, that had not taken place.

    He mentally shook away those thoughts and the memories that came with them as he arrived at the entrance to the SDF-1 – which was still guarded by a pair of marines with two fully armed Spartan destroids standing over them as backup. To say the guards were surprised to see him was an understatement though they nevertheless checked his credentials and biometrics – ensuring he was who he said he was – before stepping aside and letting him go aboard.

    He couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine, and felt goosebumps appear on his skin, as he entered the ship. While it was reasonably warm for the time of year outside – surprisingly really since there was still quite of bit of debris and dust in the atmosphere from the Rain which was making global weather patterns unpredictable to say the least – inside the ship it was distinctly chilly. Which really wasn’t that surprising as with, so few people stationed on the SDF-1 now – mostly just those engineers assigned to babysit the fusion generators and a small marine security detachment – life support and environmental control to most of the ship was either completely shut down or at very least running on minimal power. Of course, it, and the reduced lighting turning the interior of the ship into a maze of long shadows, gave the interior of the battlefortress a distinctly haunted house feeling.

    “But then there probably are ghosts here,” he muttered to himself in his native German thinking of all those who had fought and died on this ship. People like Roy Fokker, Jeff Kramer, Ben Dixon, and countless others, he would not be at all surprised if some echo of them remained here. An imprint in the alien power systems perhaps as it wouldn’t be the first time that robotechnology had presented them with something that seemed downright supernatural in nature – like the temporal distortion they’d first experienced when the ship had crashed to Earth over a decade ago. To them they had been exploring the ship and trying to outwit dangerous automated defence drones that had still been online, for hours when outside only minutes had passed. Though the next time they’d gone aboard the time distortions had stopped, and the drone’s shutdown, and they’d never quite figured out what had caused them in the first place though their best guess had been it had something to do with the ships fold system, which had been stressed to an incredible degree in bringing this ship here from its native galaxy.

    Okay enough stalling Emil, he told himself firmly before beginning to head towards where whatever was making him dream of this ship seemed to be coming from. Hopefully he would soon have some answers, maybe then he would be able to get a decent night of sleep.

    ~~//~~

    It took him far longer to reach his destination, which was down low in the ship near the legs that in the ships normal cruising configuration would have been the engine nacelles, than he had expected. He had had to divert a few times, twice due to corridors and sections being blocked by debris left over from the battle and once due to an entire section of the ship which had been flooded due to an unsealed breach in the hull letting in the waters of Lake Gloval. While internal bulkhead doors had confined the flooding to just that one section it had been an unpleasant surprise to turn a corner and suddenly be walking through freezing cold water.

    Finally, though, and after some exertion climbing down emergency ladders and through crawlspaces that were designed more for maintenance and repair drones than six foot tall hundred- and eighty-pound humans, he reached his destination. In appearance it resembled a wall of solid robotech alloy, a wall he had seen numerous times before as it always barred access to whatever section of the ship that separated the power plants from the ion fusion sublight engines – indeed they’d only ever been able to access those through the maintenance crawlspaces – and which had previously defied all attempts to get through or see what was on the other side. Even plasma torches – which had with some effort and quite a bit of time ultimately been able to cut through robotech alloys – and later lasers hadn’t even scratched it for some reason that nobody could determine.

    Yet somehow, he knew now how to get passed it.

    Almost without thinking about it he walked over to a section of the wall and pressed on it. For several seconds nothing happened then the section of wall under his hand glowed and dissolved. Pulling his hand away he saw inside a small keyboard – covered with alien numeric characters – glowing softly with a pale bluish-white light. Not sure how he knew, but knowing he did, he reached in and typed in a simple numerical code. The response was immediate as the entire wall began to glow softly, and there was a feeling of something that was both ethereal and unbelievably powerful at work before a split appeared from deck to ceiling in the centre of the wall and slowly parted, showing that the whole wall was one giant pair of doors eventually revealing a corridor beyond.

    It was immediately obvious that this previously hidden section was very different in design to the original design of the rest of the ship. Whereas the other corridors had been constructed from purple-blue metal and scaled for a race of literal giants – though he was aware that was slowly but steadily changing as more and more Zentraedi were choosing to undergo the micronization process – the one beyond was not being clearly scaled for more human sized beings it was also composed of a strange composite that had an appearance almost like a green marble. Something further reinforced by the ribbons of different shades of green rippling through the material. The deck was made from a similar material though it was much darker in colour, shading more towards black with speckles of grey here and there, while the ceiling seemed to be made of semi-translucent red panels through which he could faintly see various pipes and conduits. Seemingly every few meters there was an ornamental light fitting on the wall which seemed to take a vaguely starburst pattern around a softly glowing oval shaped crystal.

    Emil couldn’t stop himself from staring at in amazement, especially as the section seemed to be completely intact unlike the rest of the battlefortress where it was easier to count those sections that weren’t damaged from those that were. Then he shook himself and reached for the small comm device that he had brought with him, as curious as he was as to what was in the previously hidden section, he wasn’t stupid enough to go in alone. It took only a moment for the comm device to put him through to the main command centre on the SDF-2 and for him to arrange for a squad of marines, some of his fellow robotechnologists and other technicians to join him. Then he found somewhere to sit down and wait, well aware that when they arrived, they’d enter this section and maybe, just maybe, the final secrets of the SDF-1 – including why the vessel was so important to the Robotech Masters the mysterious, but undeniably powerful aliens who had created the Zentraedi - would at last be revealed.

    ~~//~~

    Ascended Planes

    Once more standing before his viewing pool Zor watched the patiently waiting Terran scientist. From what he had seen and knew of him he knew that Emil Lang was a brilliant man, grasping aspects of robotechnology nearly instantly that many other scientists on not just Earth but on his native Tirol struggled with and figuring out how to apply them. Some of which were a surprise even to him as he would never have thought about the concept that Lang had termed mechamorphosis allowing vehicles to radically change form and function. He had been especially impressed with the transforming fighter planes that had given the Zentraedi so many headaches especially in the battloid form whose capabilities honestly rivalled the bioroids his former people used.

    If only we had met when I was mortal, he thought with a slight wistful look appearing on his face. Had he met Emil Lang when he was mortal, he would sure they would have gotten along famously. Indeed, he could only imagine what himself, Lang and Cabell would have been able to create, the secrets and mysteries they would have cracked, had they met and been able to form their own little triumvirate of geniuses. The wistful looked faded from his face, being replaced by a distinctly melancholy expression as it occurred to him how anything they created would have eventually been perverted into yet another tool of conquest and oppression by Nimuul and the other self-proclaimed Robotech Masters. They certainly hadn’t hesitated to pervert everything else including the Zentraedi, who had never been intended to be the warriors they currently were - instead when he and Cabell had created them they’d been meant to be miners on those worlds where the atmospheric pressure and surface gravity was too high for Tirolians worlds like Fantoma – though that was thankfully slowly changing as the Zentraedi began to learn from their current allies that there was so much more to life and living than being at war all the time.

    At the thought of Nimuul and the others Zor felt the familiar anger return. He knew he would never be able to truly forgive them for what they had transformed his former people into, changing them from polite, friendly traders into ruthless imperialists. Even if they fell tomorrow, he knew that, without help and rehabilitation from another race – like maybe the Asgard who they had run into a few times in the past, though the last such meeting had not been pleasant and led to half a dozen Asgard battlecruisers wiping out a Zentraedi force five times their size in about thirty seconds – his people might never again become the enlightened people they once were. They probably wouldn’t even have a future given the Invid were so determined to recover the Flowers of Life and were quite willing to either enslave or wipe out anyone who stood in their way.

    Guilt stabbed at him when he thought about the Invid. His meeting with them, and his telepathic melding with the Regis, had changed them in so many ways. Though it had been his second meeting with them – with Nimuul and the others virtually holding an ion rifle to his head in the form of keeping his father prisoner to ensure his compliance -that had ultimately driven both the Regis and the Regent mad with rage and hatred as he’d been forced to lead the Zentraedi in a horrific crime one that had transformed Optera from a paradise world into a desolate wasteland. If only the Others would let me intervene there, he thought sadly, he would have taken as many of the spare Flowers of Life seeds as he could back to Optera and given them to the Invid along with the Alteran knowledge needed to regenerate their world fully removing the need to ravage entire galaxies in search of both the Flowers and the knowledge to restore Optera. Unfortunately, the rulers of the Ascended were not inclined to let him do that, it would be too much interference in the affairs of the lower planes, too much of a risk of becoming like the Ori to take.

    A stance he saw as frankly ridiculous – and he wasn’t on his own – as what use was having the power and knowledge they did as Ascended Beings if they didn’t use it to help those less fortunate or less evolved than themselves. But such was the way of things. He supposed he should be grateful that they hadn’t done anything to try and stop him intervening – even if only in small ways – here though it helped that he wasn’t doing anything he couldn’t have really done had he still been mortal.

    Movement in the viewing pool drew his attention and he shrugged off his thoughts and regrets. Instead, he watched as Dr Lang and a newly arrived posse of soldiers, scientists and technicians began moving into the previously hidden section of his old flagship. It would not be long before the found the first of the biosphere sections and from their discovered his greatest creation – and arguably his greatest mistake given all the pain and heartache it had unleashed on the universe – in the form of the protoculture matrix. He just hoped that he was doing the right thing in revealing its existence – in the form of telepathically planting the information on how to deactivate the phase displacement field and open the security doors into Lang’s subconscious mind a few nights back – to the Terrans.

    “They’ve almost found it then,” a familiar voice said from behind him making him yelp and jump. To see Janus standing there grinning.

    “Damn it Janus don’t do that,” he complained, “what are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?”

    “We’re made of energy Zor we cannot get heart attacks,” Janus pointed out as he approached, a familiar somewhat cheeky grin on his face.

    Zor rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he replied before looking back at the pool. “And yes, they will find the matrix soon they just have to pass through one of the biosphere storage areas first. What are you smiling about?”

    “Nothing.”

    “Janus.”

    “Alright sheesh. I just cannot wait to see the looks on their faces when they discover the Flowers of Life and realize just what they are,” Janus admitted his smile turning both a bit more cheeky and somewhat sheepish. “I mean you’ve told us all about the Flowers of Life, taught us a great deal about them and protoculture and I still have trouble believing it. A plant that can be a source of vacuum energy? Granted it doesn’t yield as much as a portentia module would but still it is incredible to think about.”

    “They are incredible,” Zor agreed, “I just…”

    “What?”

    “I just hope I am doing the right thing giving them access to both the Flowers of Life and the protoculture matrix,” Zor admitted, “yes, I know they could use it, especially given that they will soon be threatened by the likes of the Goa’uld now that they’ve reopened the Stargate. Not to mention eventually my former people are sure to come after the matrix themselves as you can bet that Nimuul, and the others know by now that the Zentraedi failed and that Dolza is dead. But…”

    “You fear that by giving them access they could become as bad, if not worse, than the Masters,” Janus finished for him. “It is understandable, but I do not believe that they will let you down.”

    “You seem pretty certain of that,” Zor pointed out.

    “I am,” Janus replied recalling an incident that had happened ten thousand years ago, during the last days of Atlantis long after his people had submerged the great cityship beneath the waters of Lantea’s oceans to protect it from the seemingly endless hoards of the Wraith. Something that had given him hope for the future and for the eventual final ending of the Wraith.

    “Alright I’ll trust you for now Janus. Not that there is anything I could do to stop them anyway even if I were really inclined to, not without overtly using my powers and the Others would certainly stop me.”

    “That they would the frightful old bores. But enough about that why don’t we just see what they do looks like they’re about to find the matrix.”

    Zor nodded in agreement and turned to look back into the viewing pool.

    ~~//~~

    Hidden Section
    SDF-1, A Few Minutes Earlier

    Emil Lang forced himself to walk calmly and carefully as, accompanied by a gaggle of fellow scientists and technicians and escorted by a contingent of marines from Fokker Base, he led the way deeper into the previously unknown section of the SDF-1. He knew, somehow, that what was waiting for them at the end of this corridor – which honestly seemed to go on forever though in reality they probably hadn’t walked more than ten or twenty meters – was some momentous discovery. It was the same feeling from the dreams that had led him here, and shown him how to get into this section, in the first place.

    He had to wonder why he was suddenly having such dreams and where such knowledge came from. It was strange and if he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed that someone had somehow planted the information in his subconscious, and it was using the dreams to bubble up to the surface similar to how bubbles rose in carbonated water. But that was, as far as he knew, impossible even by robotechnology standards, when he was working, he always had security nearby and his home security system was also top of the line so nobody could possibly have gotten near him to implant information in his head - presumably through a device similar to a neuro-somatic imprinter – without being seen.

    “Doctor Lang there is a door up ahead,” one of the marines – who had taken point – reported.

    “Understood,” Emil replied, putting aside his thoughts of where the strange knowledge he now had had come from. There would be time enough to think about that later well unless the answers were waiting up ahead of them. “See if you can get it open lieutenant.”

    “Yes sir.”

    Taking a breath and letting it out slowly to calm his nerves, he had heard a few horror stories about what the first people who had boarded the SDF-1 after it first crashed on Macross Island back in ninety-nine had encountered, Lieutenant Peter Costas moved forward and carefully examined the control panel next to the large hexagonal door. It seemed fairly basic just two rectangular controls with strange alien glyphs on them, glyphs that he naturally couldn’t understand. Okay here goes nothing, he thought as he reached out a gloved hand – while wishing not for the first time that regular marine grunts like him would get issued that Tristan armour the STORM commandoes used, he would feel a lot safer with that on – and touched one of the controls which glowed under his touch.

    For a second nothing seemed to happen. Then a faint humming sound filled the air and the door split apart in the middle and opened revealing another, shorter corridor that looked almost like an airlock or decontamination chamber, beyond. “Doors open doc looks like it leads to a decontamination chamber of some kind, there’s another door on the other side,” he reported. “Should we proceed?”

    “Yes, lieutenant we’ll proceed but leave one of your men here as a rear guard just in case,” Emil instructed.

    “Understood sir. Turner your rear guard.”

    “Yes sir,” the marine in question acknowledged.

    “The rest of you let’s move on.”

    Without waiting for a reply Peter led the way into the chamber beyond, Doctor Lang and the rest of the investigation party following along behind him. As soon as the last of them passed through the door behind them closed and a shimmering bluish energy field appeared at one end of the chamber and began moving towards them. In seconds it passed over them producing an odd tingle all over their bodies, before sweeping back the other way and disappearing. The door at the other end of the chamber opening seconds later.

    Without needing to be prompted by the eager German robotechnologist Peter led the way through to find that beyond the door was a large toroidal room. Everywhere they could see globes sitting on pedestals inside of which were strange alien plants of all things, plants that looked like some weird fusion of a vine and a small rose bush like those that had been his mother’s pride and joy, with odd pink trumpet-like flowers. Flowers that bizarrely seemed to grow exclusively in groups of three. Every so often one of the flowers would contract, shiver for a second or two as though it was a cannon being primed, then open again releasing a burst of some odd glowing pollen. Pollen that was then drawn upwards by some force into a clear pipe that led from the top of the globe to the ceiling where it joined another pipe and disappeared somewhere beyond this chamber.

    “Whoa what the hell are these things?” he asked.

    “I have no idea,” Emil replied as he approached one and took a small scanner out of his pocket and ran it over the globe. “Incredible the pollen or spores coming out of these flowers is packed with energy. The signature is very similar to the energy signature you get from protoculture but considerably less intense.”

    “Could these plants be the source of protoculture,” one of the other scientists asked, “or at least the source of the raw material to make it. We know after all that protoculture is at the end of the day an incredibly potent biofuel.”

    “Possible,” Emil replied. “In fact, I am certain that that is what these plants are.”

    “Doctor there’s another passage over here,” Peter called out from the other side of the room where he’d wandered over to while the doctor scanned the flowers. “It seems to lead into the next chamber.”

    “Alright then Mitchell, Johnson, Bjornson remain here and run some more scans of these plants,” Emil instructed, “the rest of you let’s see what else there is down this particular rabbit hole.”

    Without waiting for a reply, he walked over to join the lieutenant. The sound of footsteps indicating that almost everyone – bar the three indicated scientists, who immediately moved to carry out more scans – were following along behind him. As soon as they reached the other side of the room Peter led them through the door which automatically opened at their approach revealing another decontamination chamber beyond.

    After passing through it they all found themselves on a balcony looking out upon a huge silo-like space. Directly in front of them was a huge transparent pipe bigger than a man was tall filled with softly glowing green fluid that every single one of the team recognised as being protoculture. It descended, below the balcony to a device at the bottom of the chamber that seemed to split it off into separate streams that ran elsewhere. It was also obvious that there was some sort of damage down there as every now and again a small bit of protoculture would spirt out of the device and falling into a steadily growing pool of the liquid. Following the pipe upwards they could see it led to a huge, complex looking device that appeared to be made of a series of metal spheres and pipes. At the top of the device they could see all the golden pollen or spores entering the outer ring of spheres. The sheer number of pipes carrying the pollen/spores indicating that the room they had just been in was one of many such rooms with the plants in.

    Smaller versions of the main pipe jutted out at right angles from the central sphere – which glowed with a strange light that was quite ethereal in appearance – carrying protoculture though in a number of different colours indicating that they were different grades of the material. Something that Emil and the other scientists were not surprised to see as they were already well aware that there were a few different grades of protoculture all of which had different properties with the purple coloured version for example being used for bioengineering and cloning while the yellow version when dried was the base material used in adaptive circuitry. Around the perimeter of the huge room and leading up to the device they could see a looping staircase and numerous other balconies indicating other rooms or decontamination chambers beyond the one they had just emerged from.

    “What the hell is this thing,” Peter asked gazing at it in awe and confusion.

    “It is the protoculture matrix,” a strangely accented female voice said from behind them making them all spin around. To see a statuesque blond woman wearing a tight blue jumpsuit with a white toga-like garment over the top and white boots standing there. She was also translucent indicating that she was actually a hologram.

    “What the? Who the hell are you,” Peter asked. “What are you?”

    “You may call me Eve or Evie if you prefer,” the female, Eve, answered them. “As for what I am I am the synthetic intelligence created by Zor to safeguard and oversee operation of the protoculture matrix and the other devices in this section of the ship.”

    “Your name is familiar,” Emil commented.

    “I have some limited access to the rest of the battlefortresses systems,” Eve explained, “it allowed me to help you to a limited degree during your flight across this solar system. Mostly I was able to help with making the denizens of Macross City more comfortable as I have no access to any of the primary or tactical systems.”

    Emil’s eyes widened. “The enhanced video emulation,” he exclaimed in realization, “you created and maintained the holographic sky in the city compartments.”

    “Yes.”

    “Why didn’t you reveal yourself before now,” Emil asked.

    “I was not able to. The systems that would have allowed me to openly interact with you via the primary systems were damaged during this vessel crash landing onto your planet and were not repaired correctly. It was also why I could not stop you folding space while inside the gravity well or abort the firing sequence of the main cannon when the Zentraedi were first detected by the security subprograms.

    “I can only interact with you now fully because the systems in this section of the ship were isolated and largely protected by the phase displacement field that kept this section isolated," Eve answered. “It is actually good to meet and interact with you properly. It is also just as well that you were able to access this section when you did, I need your help.”

    “Our help with what?” Emil asked.

    “As you have noticed there is a sizeable leak in the main diverter node at the base of this chamber. It is allowing refined energy-grade protoculture to escape and form into a pool that is already three feet deep and climbing at a rate of five milometers every two days. I cannot clean up the spillage or repair the diverter while the matrix is active and generating protoculture.”

    “Can you not shut it down?” Peter asked.

    “Unfortunately, I cannot. My connection to the matrix is a read-only connection my creator could not provide me full access without someone asking too many questions that he would not wish to answer. The matrix will have to be manually shut down. I can guide you through the process and once repairs and clean-up is completed guide you in restarting the matrix.”

    “What happens if we do not stop the leak?” Emil asked.

    “Then protoculture will continue to leak out until it reaches the ventilation and maintenance ducts. Once that happens the pressure will let it force its way through to one or more of the Flower of Life storage bays. When that happens, it is only a matter of time before the pressure of the fluid breaches the permaglass covering of the sustenance globes.”

    “What happens then?”

    “The flowers would grow wild feeding on the energy and biomass of the protoculture until a critical density is reached at which point there would be a mass spore generation event that would breach all containment measures resulting in an uncontrolled release of the Flower of Life spores onto the surface of the planet. This would, inevitably, be detected by the Invid who would come to take the flowers and would destroy anyone and anything in their way.”

    “That sounds… bad.”

    “It would be the Invid would not hesitate to enslave your people or, if you proved too resistive, exterminate you. They have done such things before.”

    “And all we need to do to prevent that is switch the matrix off so you can clean up the spillage and repair the diverter?”

    “Yes.”

    “So, what do we need to do?”

    “Follow me I will take you to the matrix control room and guide you through the shutdown procedure.”

    Emil nodded in agreement and acceptance, and they began slowly ascending the spiral stairwell around the chamber following the avatar of the alien artificial intelligence. None of them yet truly comprehending the enormity of what they had just discovered or the potential catastrophe they would be averting.

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the dust. I hope you all enjoyed it and liked my adaptation and inclusion of Eve from Robotech: The Movie though I have no plans for other characters from the movie to make any appearances. Next chapter I am hoping to get back to both the aftermath of the events of the Linkotis arc and the introduction of the Tok’ra to the mix. Until next time.
     
    Interlude Three
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Interlude Three

    Zentraedi Command Ship
    Earth Orbit, A Short Time Later

    “Commander.”

    Sitting behind the desk in his office Commander Breetai looked up to see his current advisor/aid standing at the entrance holding a data pad. He was grateful for the interruption as he was currently snowed under – as there Terran friends would say – with paperwork. Being the commander of an entire fleet of Zentraedi warships, was always a lot of work and it was even worse now since – with the death of Dolza – he was the de facto leader of his entire species. While he did not regret his actions in forming an alliance with the Terran micronians – an alliance that was certainly bearing fruit as his people were learning and gaining a great deal from as not only were they learning skills in maintenance and repair that the Robotech Masters had long denied them, but more and more of his kind were learning that there was far more to life than being at war all the time – and standing with them against Dolza’s genocidal plans had he known about the increased amounts of paperwork he would have to deal with then he might have given the matter far more thought before committing to the course of action he took.

    “Come in Tiran,” he said bidding his new advisor/chief aid to enter the office. The other much younger Zentraedi did so, the door to the office automatically closing behind him. “You have something to report?”

    “Yes commander. I have to report that the first sequence of the requested system scans has been concluded. The first, second and fourth planets have all been scanned for useful resources, though scans of the gas giants and their moons as well as the dwarf planets and asteroid belts will take another seven to ten days due to the complexity of the systems and our current limited resources.”

    “Understandable,” Breetai answered, he didn’t after all have that many ships available right now as many of the million plus ships that had sided with him and the Terrans against Dolza had been destroyed during that great battle. All of the others, including this very ship, had sustained considerable damage and heavy casualties and while the bulk of the damage had been repaired – thanks in no small part to their allies teaching them more advanced damage control and repair skills than what the Robotech Masters had allowed them to possess – it had cost dozens of ships to do it as they’d only been able to do so by cannibalising one ship to fix another. Thus, the number of ships he had available to run the scans was quite limited.

    “Have we found anything,” he asked.

    “The first and second planets are unremarkable,” Tiran reported, “there are no detectable resources that could be of use to either ourselves or our allies.”

    “And the third planet?” Breetai asked, curious as to why Tiran hadn’t mentioned Mars or its two sizeable asteroid moons.

    “Commander, we have discovered that there are sizeable deposits of quite high-grade trinium ore present on the planet with the largest deposits being located near the southern polar region of the planet.”

    Breetai’s one remaining eyebrow shot up, that was a surprise. The Robotech Masters and most of the other spacefaring races known to the Zentraedi – well with the notable exception of the Invid and the Spherisians due to formers ships being organic while the latter like the species themselves were crystalline – had long used trinium in both starship construction and civil engineering due to its strength and durability. Trinium was strong on its own but when alloyed with hypercarbon and other robotechnology materials it could produce a very strong material indeed. Unfortunately, back in their native galaxy the very strength and utility of trinium had made it quite a rare resource in modern times with all the easily available sources of the ore, especially the more easily refined high grade ore that wasn’t contaminated with other materials, having long since been exhausted.

    “Interesting,” he commented, “is there any indication of just how much is down there?”

    “We do not have exact figures yet my lord. Our ships have begun running more in-depth scans of the planet to map out the locations and size of all the deposits on the planet,” Tiran answered before he hesitated. “But that is not the only thing we have detected on the planet my lord.”

    “Oh?”

    Tiran hesitated before taking the plunge. “We have detected a very faint energy source beneath the surface of the planet,” he reported, “it appears to be originating from a cave on the flank of a long extinct volcano, specifically the volcano that on Terran records is named Arsia Mons.”

    Breetai blinked. “Why did we not detect this energy source the last time our ships were near Mars,” he asked, “and have you identified what kind of energy source it is?”

    “My lord it is likely that we did not detect it because our scans were naturally focused on the former location of the Terran base, on the planet which was, as you know, located in the northern hemisphere of the planet. Arsia Mons is located in the southern hemisphere. Also, the energy signature is very faint and appears to be coming from nearly two hundred meters beneath the flank of the volcano. We have not been able to identify it as it is too faint and too deep to be properly identified at least from orbit. All we can tell from orbit is that it is artificial.”

    “From orbit,” Breetai mused. “Have one of the survey ships launch a Cyclops reconnaissance craft to investigate. From low orbit or even in the atmosphere they should be able to identify the power source.”

    “I will see to it at once commander.”

    “Advise me as soon as we have the results. Also forward a copy of all current results to Admiral Gloval along with an addendum that we are running additional scans to both determine how much trinium is on the planet and the nature and likely origin of this mysterious power source.”

    “As you wish my lord.”

    “Is there anything else?” Tiran shook his head. “Very well you may go Tiran.”

    Tiran nodded and quickly left the office to attend to the given instructions. Breetai for his part leaned back in his chair and frowned thoughtfully, wondering just what this mystery energy source could be. Despite Tiran’s reasoning he was somewhat surprised that they hadn’t detect it before now, surely Khyron would have detected and reported it before setting his trap for the SDF-1. Though knowing Khyron, he probably thought it was inconsequential and not worthy of reporting, he thought recalling just how Khyron would have thought about such a thing. If wasn’t an Invid power signature – and thus offered the prospect of a major battle with those foul creatures – then Khyron would have dismissed it as being some silly micronian thing and beneath his notice.

    He however wasn’t so foolish as to dismiss an unknown power signature being where there shouldn’t be one as inconsequential. Instead, he knew it could be a warning of something far more serious going on, something that both Zentraedi and Terran needed to be fully aware of. After a moment more thinking about it he sighed softly as it would do him no good to dwell on it. Hopefully the Cyclops recon craft would, through running lower altitude scans of the ancient volcano, find out more about the emission that had teased the orbiting cruisers sensors.

    Until then all they could do was wait.

    The bleep of his desktop comm jolted him out of his contemplation of the energy signature. Calmly he leaned forward, reached out and touch a glowing control on the offending device. “Yes?”

    “Commander Captain Serval’s cruiser just unfolded in sector twelve,” came the voice of one of the bridge crew, “the cruiser appears to have been involved in a battle as our sensors indicate that there is considerable damage to the outer hull consistent with plasma weapon impacts. Captain Serval has contacted orbital control and requested a priority approach and docking course for the factory satellite. He also reports that they have Colonel Ferretti’s investigation team aboard along with one prisoner and two potential guests or additional prisoners.”

    “Has orbital control granted the request?” Breetai asked.

    “Yes, commander they have. The cruiser is moving into the priority approach pattern for the factory satellite. Sir should we contact them and request a report on what happened from Captain Serval?”

    “No,” Breetai replied immediately as he was willing to wait to see the report that both his colleague and Colonel Ferretti would deliver to the Defence Council on the events that had taken place on and in orbit of the planet in question. He was politically astute enough these days to know that that would be the better option. “However, request a status update on the cruisers systems and crew from station operations once they have docked.”

    “Yes commander.”

    Breetai signed off and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. His instincts, honed through centuries of battles across multiple galaxies, were telling him that Captain Serval and the exploration team sent through the star portal had had an encounter with a powerful new enemy. Which meant that a new war could be about to begin for both their peoples one whose outcome would, he knew somehow, affect the future destiny of not just Terrans and Zentraedi but every race in this galaxy.

    ~~//~~

    Linkotis Orbit
    That Same Time

    High above the atmosphere of Linkotis a section of space suddenly warped and twisted as the boundary between normal space-time and the infinite domains of subspace suddenly came under attack from within. The folds of space-time parted, and a hyperspace window burst into existence with a silent scream of unfathomable power. The window pulsed once, and a ship came back into normal space as though shot from a cannon though the crafts advanced engines allowed it to overcome the effects of hyperspace inertia in less than two seconds. No longer being created and held open by the immense power of the newcomers engines the hyperspace window folded closed as if it had never been present at all leaving the newly arrived alien vessel floating free.

    To a Terran eye it would have appeared to be a very strange, but at the same time familiar, design. In appearance the vessel resembled an old Viking war hammer lying flat with the main body and forward section of the vessel having a very hammerhead design. The aft section consisted of three towers, one small and squat set between two taller more slender towers. Two wings that curved slightly forward towards the head of the hammer completed the design. While a Terran would not have recognised the vessel, a Zentraedi would have instantly and been terrified as the giant warrior servitors of the Robotech Masters had encountered the diminutive, being so small that they added a whole new meaning to the term micronian, but powerful builders in the past and not enjoyed the experience.

    The vessel was Asgardian.

    ~~//~~

    “Commander we are secure from hyperspace.”

    Sitting on his command throne on the unique bridge of an Asgard battlecruiser Commander Audun nodded at the report from the navigator. “Very good commence scanning,” he ordered. “Look for anything that could explain the disturbance our long-range sensors detected coming from here.”

    “Yes commander.”

    As the crew began carrying out his orders Audun considered the circumstances that had seen him bringing his ship, the Skuld, here to a relatively unremarkable solar system. They had been patrolling the Protected Planets something that the Asgard High Council had felt it necessary to do due to the large-scale civil war currently raging in the Goa’uld Empire. The first such war that there had been for nearly seven millennia, caused by the return of the long exiled Goa’uld Sokar and his attempt to overthrow Ra and the High Council of the System Lords.

    With the fighting having degenerated between the two sides into a stalemate, with both sides searching for an advantage over the other to end the war in their favour, the High Council had decided that they needed to do something to remind the Goa’uld of their presence. And remind them that the Protected Planets were just that protected just in case some ambitious Goa’uld got any ideas. So far it had worked, and it had obviously been necessary given that twice they had spotted Goa’uld ships in systems where there were protected worlds, ships that had quickly departed when they made their presence known. His own patrol had nearly been finished when their long-range scanners had picked up a large explosion in this system, it had been too far away to get a clear reading on.

    Hence, they had come to investigate.

    “Scans completed commander,” sensors reported. “Sensors indicate the presence of a cooling and spreading debris cloud composed of materials consistent with the hull of Goa’uld vessels. From the size of the cloud, we estimate that at least one Ha’tak-class mothership and a number of Al’kesh were destroyed in this system. However, the residual energy in the debris does not match Goa’uld weaponry.”

    “Then who does it match?” Audun asked curious as a Goa’uld mothership, while technologically considerably less advanced than an Asgard vessel, was a formidable and dangerous combatant that only a fool would underestimate. Anyone capable of destroying one was a race that the Asgard needed to know about.

    “Commander the energy residual matches Zentraedi particle beam cannons,” sensors reported, “we are also detecting twenty-four separate points of damage on the planet below with energy residuals consistent with Zentraedi laser fire. In addition, there is the remains of a Zentraedi Frandlar Tiluvo-class combat dropship near the abandoned military bunker that houses this planets Stargate.”

    “The Zentraedi! Here?” Audun said incredulous knowing that they were a very, very long way from Tirolian space here being literally a few galaxies away. “Search for any phased graviton trace indicative of a space fold. We have to know how many of their ships are here.”

    “Trace located commander. From the size of it the computer estimates that only one Zentraedi warship was involved in the confrontation with a high probability that it was a Thuverl Salan-class cruiser.”

    “Could it be lost,” his first officer Briar queried, “maybe it somehow misfolded to this galaxy and is trying to find its way home, stopped here for some reason and got into a fight with the natives and the Goa’uld.”

    “Possible or it could be that the Robotech Masters are planning to expand their domain to include this galaxy as well. Sensors can you determine the vector the ship took when it folded out.”

    “We can commander however it will take some time as we will have to both compensate for the radiation from the destroyed Goa’uld ships, and the nature of the subspace domain used in space folding.”

    “How long?”

    “At least an hour commander.”

    “I see begin your work immediately. In the meantime, communications send a message back to Halla advising both command and the High Council what we have discovered here and that I intend to investigate the Zentraedi presence in this galaxy further once we know their fold vector.”

    “Yes commander.”

    Audun settled back in his command throne as the bridge crew began carrying out his latest set of instructions. Though he didn’t show it the presence of the Zentraedi in this galaxy made him nervous, especially as now that he thought about it the Zentraedi – and the Robotech Masters – had been behaving very strangely for a few years now. Why nobody knew for sure, though the High Council was aware that it had something to do with a rebellion in the Tirolian Empire and something to do with the Robotech Master Zor.

    And now there was a Zentraedi cruiser – and likely others as the Zentraedi never travelled alone – here in this galaxy, far from any of the Empires borders. It was a puzzle, one that was both interesting and very concerning.

    A puzzle that he would solve one way or another.

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another interlude chapter bites the dust, it isn’t as long as it otherwise would have been since what would have been the first section of this interlude chapter – the discovery of the protoculture matrix hidden inside the SDF-1 – ended up taking on a life of its own and becoming the last full-length chapter. Still, I hope you all enjoyed it and before anyone asks the energy signature that the Zentraedi are picking up on Mars is not Ancient in origin but comes from another source altogether. Plus, the Asgard are on the prowl as well now which could make things interesting for all concerned in the next few chapters. Until next time.
     
    Chapter Eleven
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Authors Note: A quick reminder that conversation in bold represents the voice of a Goa’uld or Tok’ra symbiote speaking through a host. Conversation in bold italic or just italic represents a host and a symbiote speaking internally to one another.

    ~~~///~~~

    Chapter Eleven

    United Earth Defence Command
    New Macross City
    Sometime Later


    Silence reigned in the meeting chamber of the United Earth Defence Council as the council members, as well as invited officials from other parts of the United Earth Government, carefully digested and considered the reports that had just been delivered to them by both Colonel Ferretti and Captain Serval. There first foray through the Stargate had not gone as well or had been as peaceful as they would have liked given that within at most half an hour of their investigation team arriving on the planet – which according to Colonel Ferretti’s report was called Linkotis – they’d been attacked by an alien infantry force from the Stargate. A force that the STORM commandoes had quickly defeated, taking a single one of them alive as a prisoner.

    Simultaneously, well almost simultaneously, the Zentraedi cruiser in orbit had been confronted by a group of alien warships consisting of a cruiser and a number of corvette-style ships. To the surprise of some of the Council especially Colonel Matthews, the Zentraedi hadn’t fired upon the aliens first. Indeed, Captain Serval had gone out of his way, by Zentraedi standards at least, to try and diffuse any tension. Only for the alien commander who’d referred to himself as a Lord Solec – who’d appeared human but obviously wasn’t since humans didn’t speak in a deep, resonant voice that seemed to echo nor did their eyes glow – to not really be interested in anything other than demanding surrender. Somewhat inevitably after that battle had erupted and the aliens had ultimately been defeated, their ships blown out of the sky by the Zentraedi’s powerful particle cannons, though Serval’s cruiser had taken quite a beating in the battle.

    After the alien warships had been defeated, but not knowing if more were on the way and really not being in a fit state to engage in combat again, Captain Serval and Colonel Ferretti had both elected to withdraw from Linkotis immediately. As such the Zentraedi ship had sent down a dropship, only for the native population to shoot it down as it had tried to return to the orbiting cruiser. Serval had immediately sent down a second dropship, with a fighter escort this time, but not before firing upon the anti-aircraft positions from orbit destroying them.

    Interestingly when the first dropship had been shot down it had revealed the presence of another ship – a ship that had previously been invisible. A ship with two human-appearing aliens aboard that Colonel Ferretti had elected to rescue before returning to space and leaving Linkotis – though not before setting the damaged first dropships self-destruct charges. The cruiser had then folded back to Earth and was now docked aboard the factory satellite for repairs.

    “Opinions,” Secretary Anderson said breaking the silence on the room, judging that everyone had had some chance to fully digest the contents of the report.

    “It has certainly been an eventful mission,” Admiral Gloval said immediately frowning in genuine concern, while idly fingering that – thankfully unlit – pipe of his. “Though it has revealed something very concerning, especially when you factor in the more in-depth analysis of the sensor telemetry from Captain Serval’s cruiser.”

    “What do you mean admiral,” Anderson asked.

    “Mister Secretary it is clear that there is an advanced and highly aggressive race out there that doesn’t balk at attacking planets and destroying whole civilizations,” Gloval explained. “The analysis of this species, I believe that the prisoner Jar’un referred to them as the Goa’uld, weapons signatures show that exactly the same type of plasma weapon were used historically to bombard Linkotis as what were used against Serval’s cruiser.”

    “How can you be certain,” Anderson questioned.

    “The fossil energy signature is identical.”

    “Fossil energy?”

    “Admiral Gloval is referring to a well-known phenomenon in which an energy weapon – no matter what kind of energy weapon it is – leaves a trace of itself in any surrounding matter that was not vaporized or disintegrated by the imparted energy,” Exedore explained. “This energy is referred to as fossil energy and can linger for anywhere up to several decades depending on the characteristics and molecular structure of the materials impacted. For example, most forms of stone will retain the signature for several decades whereas a crystalline material will retain it for at most six months.”

    “So, it is like a fingerprint?” Colonel Matthews asked.

    “Essentially yes though not as precise as it only tells you the type and characteristics of the weapon used – for example with the plasma weapons we’re talking about it indicates that the plasma is naquada based – and not be used to trace a single given weapon. Certainly not in the way you would have been able to trace a bullet from the rifling marks on it.”

    “Interesting.”

    “So, we can say with a high degree of certainty that these Goa’uld are the same species that attacked Linkotis?" Anderson questioned.

    “It is extremely likely yes. The fact that they were able to inflict quite considerable damage to Captain Serval’s vessel indicates that even if they were not, they are a considerable threat to both of our species. A threat that we need to know more about as the worst enemy you can face is one you do not know.”

    “It is also possible that we have encountered minions of one of these Goa’uld here on Earth,” General Markwell said.

    “What do you mean,” Gloval questioned just beating the secretary of defence to the punch.

    “I asked the medical personnel on the factory satellite to run a scan of the Jaffa prisoner Jar’un, we told him it was under the pretext of making sure he was carrying no dangerous contagion – he wasn’t by the way. I then had the doctors compare what they found to Doctor Fraisers records of the changes made to Nathan Hunter’s physiology by Vosegus before or just after the imposition of the ‘Prime’ personality matrix.”

    “And?”

    “They are almost identical. The same projected levels of physical strength – two to three times that of a normal person be they Terran or Zentraedi – and endurance. Same enhanced bone and muscle densities as well as the same enhanced blood oxygen storage capacity. The only real difference beyond Nathan lacking an abdominal pouch is the regenerative capabilities Nathan’s are closer to a normal person whereas the regenerative capabilities of Jar’un’s physiology are considerably greater. The doctors believe that this is due to the presence of the serpentine creature in Jar’un’s abdominal pouch, which I believe Jar’un referred to as a prim’tah.”

    “So, you believe that…” Anderson started to say.

    “Vosegus is a Goa’uld yes,” Markwell finished. “The doctors believe that what Vosegus did to Nathan Hunter – and has presumably done to others he has abducted and brainwashed with that previously unknown biological compound, to say nothing of any others he’s used a neuro-somatic imprinter on – was him attempting to recreate the Jaffa. It would also fit with the name that the would-be assassin used when referring to Mr Hunter. Jaftari."

    “Well, that is concerning,” Anderson commented, “though the question then becomes how long has Vosegus been here? How did he get here?”

    “It is possible that he has been on this world for millennia ever since the star portal was buried beneath the Giza plateau thousands of years ago,” Exedore commented.

    “Would he not have died and turned to dust long ago?”

    “Not necessarily very long-lived species are not unknown,” Exedore explained, “for example the Karbarran species lives for fifteen hundred years. Spherisians due to their unique crystalline physiology live even longer, with individuals up to several thousand years old being recorded to exist. It is possible that these Goa’uld are another very long-lived species.”

    “Regardless we need to know more about them,” Anderson said, concerned by the fact that Vosegus might both be a Goa’uld and that he had been here on Earth through the whole of their recorded history. Who knew what damage he had done in that time, what secrets about them that he had learned especially now that he had at least some access to robotechnology materials, vehicles, and weapons. “The question is how do we go about learning more about this species? Their level of technology, their capabilities, and the threat that they could pose.” As if we didn’t have enough to worry about with those Zentraedi loyal to Dolza who escaped with ships, he thought, not to mention the Robotech Masters.

    “We will be questioning Jar’un soon,” Markwell commented, “hopefully he will be able to provide us with some more information on the Goa’uld, the Jaffa and maybe even the Stargate. Plus, there are the other two aliens recovered by Colonel Ferretti’s team. They’re aboard the factory satellite as well once they’re awake they might also be able to give us some more information.

    “The other thing we should do is to send more teams through the Stargate and see what information we can find out on other planets,” he continued. “Using the symbols on the gate as a reference and the star charts provided by Commander Breetai, we have determined several dozen probable locations along with the other combinations from the reconstruction of the cover stone glyphs.”

    “I would recommend against using the Stargate again for a little while,” Gloval replied. “Now that we know that hostile infantry forces can be sent through – and in all probability smaller forms of battle mecha – we have to consider the viability of its current location at Fort Minotaur. As I understand it is currently housed in what would have originally been the bases wind tunnel, which is not an ideal defensive location.”

    “No, it isn’t,” Markwell admitted, “I would suggest that we construct a new facility somewhere a bit more secure than Crete to house the Stargate. Though we can by all means keep the research facilities for it at Fort Minotaur. Research was the main reason we built that base before the Rain after all. Maybe take a page from Vosegus book and build somewhere like the Alps. There are a number of cave and mine complexes beneath the Alps that, with a little bit of work, could be repurposed into a secure base for the gate.”

    “It would certainly be easier on our resources than building completely from scratch somewhere,” Anderson said thoughtfully knowing full well that they only had so many resources to go around. Much of which were earmarked towards reconstruction efforts after the Rain of Death. “Alright then general set the geologists and as many of your combat engineering crews as you can spare to work finding possible locations. Once they have one, they’re to submit them to the Council for consideration.”

    “Understood sir I will get on to it as soon as we finish this meeting.”

    “Excellent. Now does anyone else have anything they wish to discuss based on this report?” Nobody spoke. “Very well then let’s move onto the next item on today’s agenda. Exedore, I believe you have a report from Commander Breetai?”

    “Indeed, I do,” Exedore replied with a smile, he had been sent their latest findings by Tiran an hour or so ago and to say it was quite interesting would have been an understatement. “As you know for the last few weeks, ever since the discovery of the star portal – sorry the Stargate – beneath the Giza Plateau we have been carefully surveying all the planets in this system for signs of any useable resources. The scans of the inner planets have now all been completed. Neither Mercury nor Venus has any useable resources present that we can detect, Mars however is a different story.”

    “Yes, the report sent yesterday indicated that there is a metallic ore present there,” Gloval commented, having read the report forwarded to him by Breetai’s chief aid Tiran. “Trinium, I believe you called it.”

    “Indeed. We have detected sizeable quantities of very high-grade trinium ore in numerous locations around the planet with the greatest sources being near the Southern Polar region.”

    “For those of us who don’t know what is trinium?” Anderson asked.

    Exedore quickly explained about the material how in its ore form it could seem useless being extremely brittle but when refined produced one of the lightest and strongest known pure metals to exist being a hundred times lighter than the lightest of steels while being harder than diamond without being brittle. He also went on to explain that while strong on its own trinium became even stronger and more durable when alloyed together with hypercarbon.

    “It sounds quite useful,” Markwell commented. “Is that one of the materials used in the construction of your ships?”

    “Unfortunately, no,” Exedore admitted, “in our native galaxy most of the deposits of trinium were mined out long ago and while synthetic versions do exist – and are used in starship construction – they are somewhat inferior in performance to the original even when alloyed with other robotechnology materials such as hypercarbon.

    “However, the amount of trinium ore detected beneath the surface of Mars is both numerous enough and high-quality enough that I believe that mining of it should begin as soon as possible. Once the repairs to the station are completed, I believe we should send some of the automated mining fleet from the factory satellite to Mars to begin acquiring the material.”

    “There is a mining fleet aboard the factory satellite?” Gloval asked surprised by the news, though he supposed that he really shouldn’t be. They had only had the factory satellite for two months and there was still a great deal about it that they didn’t know, entire sections and modules that had not been able to be accessed due to all the damage the station had sustained over the years of its deployment alongside the Zentraedi. Damage that was now steadily repairing itself after the satellites self-maintenance and repair functions suddenly, and inexplicably, came back online a few days ago.

    “Indeed, all such factory satellites have their own automated mining fleet designed specifically to harvest useful minerals and ferry them back to the satellites foundries as quickly and as efficiently as possible. And due to their automated nature once unleashed they do not stop until either all the materials, they have been sent for have been harvested or the station’s storage silos are filled, whichever comes first. Once the mining fleet control station can be accessed, we should deploy it to Mars to mine the trinium.”

    “I think we can all agree on that Exedore,” Anderson replied, “I will have to clear it with the Secretary General, but I don’t foresee any difficulty in getting agreement to proceed. But I believe your ships detected something else on Mars?”

    “That we did, and it is far more puzzling,” Exedore admitted. “Sensors on our cruiser detected a faint energy signature, too faint for us to properly identify from orbit, coming from one of the caves on the flank of the volcano Arsia Mons first identified by your Mars Odyssey probe in two thousand and one. In order to attempt to identify the power source a Cyclops recon craft was sent down to run low-altitude scans over the volcano. I was sent the results a short time before this meeting began.”

    “Did they find anything?” Gloval asked curious.

    “Indeed, they have admiral,” Exedore confirmed. “The energy signature is coming from a small vessel at the bottom of the deepest of the caves, a hundred and seventy-eight meters beneath the surface. Due to its depth and the presence of a number of ores in the surrounding lava rock we cannot determine much about it, if there are any crew aboard or if it has been abandoned there for some reason. We have however been able to positively identify the power source.”

    “Well don’t keep us in suspense Exedore what is it?” Anderson asked.

    “Our analysis indicates that the power source is sekitan-based but enhanced through the application of naquada.”

    Everyone blinked slightly at that. They had read a little bit about sekitan in Captain Serval’s report given that Linkotis was apparently quite rich in the material at least according to his ship’s sensors. Though the report was also clear that aside from using powdered sekitan to boost the power of the explosives in their anti-aircraft rounds – which was what had enabled them to damage the first dropship enough that it crashed back to the surface in the first place – the Linkoteans didn’t use the material properly. Possibly because they didn’t know what the Zentraedi – and they themselves – knew about the ore and how it could be and indeed was used to power entire spacefaring civilizations in the Zentraedi native galaxy. Something that was of great interest to them as while considerably less powerful than protoculture it was certainly if not a substitute a viable supplement to their protoculture-based power systems. And now it appeared that someone else in this galaxy knew the secret of sekitan and had developed the means to not only exploit it but use naquada to enhance it. Someone who for unknown reasons had hidden a starship beneath the surface of Mars.

    “So, what should we do about it?” Anderson questioned.

    “I believe we don’t have a choice but to mount an expedition to Mars to investigate the ship. See if we can determine how long it has been there – as it could have been there for a year or it could have been there for decades as the Mars Odyssey probe wouldn’t have picked it up when it identified the presence of the caves – and who it belongs to. If possible, maybe even bring it back here to Earth or at least to the factory satellite for a more in-depth analysis,” Gloval said.

    “A ship could be made available for such a mission,” Exedore added knowing that Breetai was as intrigued by the identity of the hidden mystery ship, and who it could belong to, as everyone here seemed to be.

    “As with the deployment of the mining fleet I will have to clear it with the secretary general but that should not be too difficult,” Anderson replied after a few minutes of thinking about it. “In the meantime, begin assembling your expedition team admiral.”

    “Yes sir.” Gloval acknowledged with a smile, he already had someone in mind to lead the mission. Though convincing him to go could be challenging – though he would make it an order if he absolutely had to – but he was sure he would be able to do it. It was at that moment that an aide came into the room and whispered something quietly in his ear.

    “What is it,” Anderson questioned as the aide withdrew after giving Gloval his message.

    “We’ve just had a message from the factory satellite,” Gloval answered. “One of our new guests is awake.”

    ~~//~~

    Secure Medical Section
    Robotech Factory Satellite
    A Few Minutes Earlier


    Doctor Jean Grant hummed softly to herself as, holding a computer tablet in one hand, she arrived at the secure medical ward aboard the factory satellite. This was the last of her rounds for today, indeed it was the last of the rounds that she would be doing on this particular tour of duty up here. Tomorrow she, Vince and young Bowie were scheduled to take a shuttle back down to Earth and their family home on the outskirts of New Macross City. It will be nice to breathe unrecycled air again, she thought, even though it will probably be cold given that we’re rapidly coming up on another long, cold winter. But at least we’ll get a Christmas earthside this year.

    It would make a nice change she knew as they had spent their last Christmas at the Luna Yards where Vince had been posted, helping to oversee the final preparations for transferring the incomplete SDF-2 to Earth for final outfitting. Naturally she’d accompanied him and did a tour running the base medical bay, which had been somewhat boring with the only excitement coming a few weeks after they settled when she – to both her and Vince’s surprise and delight – discovered she was pregnant with Bowie.

    She shrugged off those memories and instead focused on what she was here to do. She nodded politely to the armoured STORM commando standing guard in the room before moving over to where the two human looking aliens lay asleep on neighbouring beds. If aliens are the correct term for them, she thought knowing from the bio-scans they’d run that both the male and female were as human as she was, with none of the subtle differences that separated Terrans from Zentraedi. The only non-human thing about each was the strange serpentine creature that was wrapped around each of their upper spinal cords, and which had numerous small tendrils extending up into the brain. From what they could tell each creature was absorbing oxygen and nutrients through its skin and was excreting a number of highly unusual proteins that seemed to strengthen the body and enhance regenerative abilities. It was also secreting tiny amounts of naquada though what purpose that served in the body was any bodies guest.

    Jean had to admit that she found the relationship between the serpentine creature and the human host fascinating. If she was right, they were actually seeing the first evidence of a symbiotic relationship between two living, sentient beings, especially as neural scans had isolated two separate neural patterns in each being. Of course, it was also possible that – like something out of pre-arrival science fiction – the serpent creatures were simply controlling the body and doing what they would with it. Though she suspected if that was the case it would have been obvious on the neural scan.

    Calmly she began checking the bio-readings on the two of them. Only for a soft groan to catch her attention she looked over to see that the male was stirring, making numerous small movements that indicated that he was about to wake up.

    “One of them is waking up call the rest of the medical team,” she ordered looking over at the commando.

    “Yes doctor,” the commando acknowledged and while he didn’t move Jean knew he would be using his helmet radio to not only call the rest of the medical team but inform the station superintendent that they were waking up. Jean for her part moved over to the male, just in time to see a pair of pale blue almost grey eyes flicker open. The man blinked and began looking around, confusion and fear appearing instantly on his face.

    “It’s alright your safe here. You and your companion were hurt when your ship crashed, we recovered you and brought you back here with us when we left Linkotis,” she said placatingly in the matronly way that only female doctors and nurses could fully encapsulate. She noted with relief that he was listening and actually seemed to understand as he visibly seemed to relax somewhat. “Can you tell me your name?”

    “Martouf,” the man replied, his voice dry and croaky from not having been used for a while.

    “Here,” Jean said picking up a pitcher and pouring him a glass of water and offering it to him. He took it eagerly and drunk deeply noting that the water was cold and tasted fresh though there was a slight metallic tang from whatever pipes it had been sent through.

    “Thank you,” Martouf answered giving the human woman, who had the matronly air of a healer he noticed, which meant that beneath that would be a tiger ready to rip you to shreds verbally if you did something she disapproved of. He looked around to see Freya lying on another bed nearby – he also noted that floating above what looked like equipment were holograms covered in alien script – and beyond her he could see walls made of a strange blue-grey metal that didn’t look like any alloy he had ever seen before.

    Jean followed his gaze. “Don’t worry your friend will be fine,” she said as more medical personnel arrived, “in fact all four of you are fine.”

    “Four,” Martouf repeated confused, then he realized what she was referring to. “You’ve detected our symbiotes haven’t you.”

    “Of course. You were thoroughly scanned for injuries when we brought you aboard.”

    “Oh, so that’s what that was,” Lantash said in Martouf’s head. “I was dealing with the concussion you got from hitting the wall of the escape pod so hard during the crash – we really have to do something about that by the way as concussions are not fun or quick to deal with - when I felt something pass through us both.”

    “You could have warned me before I opened my eyes,” Martouf complained.

    “I could have yes.”

    Martouf silently grumbled to himself about snarky symbiotes withholding information that the host really needed to know. Preferably before they opened their eyes to find themselves lying on a medical bed, gods only knew where.

    “I heard that.”

    “You we’re meant to.”

    “Are you alright,” Jean asked seeing that she no longer had Martouf’s attention. Instead, he seemed to be looking inward in some way and the relay from the neural scanner showed a great deal of interactivity between the two neural patterns present in the body before her. They’re talking to each other, she realized.

    “I am fine I was just talking to Lantash,” Martouf said reassuringly.

    “Is that the name of your symbiote?”

    “Yes,” Martouf confirmed before sensing that Lantash wanted to speak. As was the etiquette for such things among the Tok’ra he looked down and felt the familiar, but nevertheless somewhat disconcerting, feeling of being gently pushed aside so to speak allowing Lantash to come to the fore. As soon as the changeover was complete Lantash looked up and Jean was startled when Martouf’s eyes momentarily glowed from within as though there were lights behind them.

    “Greetings I am Lantash,” the symbiote replied, the deep oddly resonant voice of the symbiote startling everyone around. Lantash noticed and smiled reassuringly. “I can speak this way if you prefer,” he said using Martouf’s natural voice instead of his own.

    “You can speak however you wish you just startled us that’s all,” Jean answered, “we have never encountered beings such as you before now.”

    “I suspected as much given the communication we monitored between the Goa’uld Solec and your Captain Serval before the battle over Linkotis,” Lantash said, “now before we proceed would you mind telling us your name and where we are? You know about us after all."

    "Well, I suppose that’s fair. I am Doctor Jean Grant,” Jean responded. “You’re in one of the medical bays on board a robotech factory satellite in orbit of my home planet.”

    “Robotech? What is that?” Lantash asked puzzled having never heard that term in his life before, which was saying something when you considered that like most of the Tok’ra he was thousands of years old. He had seen and experienced a great deal in that time both in person and from the memories of his hosts, all of whom he remembered and to this day greatly missed.

    “It’s a long and complicated story and I don’t have the clearance to explain it to you right now,” Jean answered apologetically.

    “It’s alright doctor we understand,” Martouf replied as Lantash let him take control again. Unless it was important Lantash was content to let him be the primary personality, unlike some other Tok’ra like Thorun who preferred to be the prime personality though of course they would let the host speak whenever they wished and wouldn’t think of doing anything without the agreement of their host. They were after all still Tok’ra not Goa’uld.

    “I am glad that you do,” Jean answered a second before a strange pulsating alarm began to sound throughout the station, prompting her to look up in surprise as she recognised the alarm based on those that they had all been briefed on when they’d first been posted here.

    “What’s that,” Martouf asked.

    “It’s a combat alert,” Jean answered, “we’re under attack.”

    ~~//~~

    Asgard Battlecruiser Skuld
    That Same Time

    The moment they emerged from hyperspace at the Zentraedi cruisers apparent destination Commander Audun knew things were a lot more complicated, and a great deal more serious, than he had ever thought they would be. Directly in front of his battlecruiser, floating at one of the gravitational balance points of the planet Earth what its natives called Lagranian points, was the imposing mass of a massive robotech factory satellite. A structure whose sheer size and complexity rivalled some of the space stations that the Ancients themselves had been able to build at the height of their power and was a true testament to both the technologically very advanced nature and sheer power of the Tirolian civilization.

    The fact that one was here, was very worrying as it meant that in all probability the planet below had already been annexed by the Robotech Masters. Though what was an even bigger concern right now was the fleet of Zentraedi warships that their sensors could detect all around them, some were in orbit around the factory itself, more were hanging in orbit of the planet in defensive orbits while more – including one of their monstrous four-kilometre-long command ships – aggressively patrolled between the planet, the station and the airless rock that was Earth’s moon.

    According to the tactical computer there were nearly four hundred of them in total.

    The Asgard crew felt a profound chill go down their spines at the sheer firepower that was arrayed here, and which would soon, certainly be turned against them. Audun, like his entire crew, knew that while the Skuld could take on and defeat two or three Zentraedi ships on her own they were no match for a force this size. If they attempted to challenge a force this size, they would be quickly overpowered and destroyed. They would have to leave quickly, and he would have to speak with both the High Council and Supreme Commander Thor about getting a fleet here before the Masters’ foothold in this galaxy got any stronger, the developing sentient species of this galaxy had enough to worry about with the Goa’uld they did not need the Robotech Masters and their Zentraedi lapdogs as well. Not to mention where the Robotech Masters and the Zentraedi came eventually the Invid would follow.

    “Transfer as much power as possible to the hyperdrive,” Audun ordered even as warnings went off around the bridge warning that the Zentraedi were powering up their weapons systems and beginning to target them, “prepare for an immediate jump to hyperspace set course for home.”

    “Yes commander.”

    “Commander we are being hailed by the Zentraedi command ship,” communications reported sounding surprised and confused. He wasn’t the only one as Audun also blinked in confusion, communication from the Zentraedi that didn’t involve an exchange of particle beams! This was new.

    “Keep transferring power to the hyperdrive,” he ordered after a moment of stunned surprise. “But don’t jump into hyperspace yet. Open a channel to the Zentraedi command ship.”

    “Yes commander.”

    A holographic screen shimmered into existence and brought in an image of one of the most imposing and famous of all the Zentraedi commanders. The faceplate covering one side of the being’s face, covering an old injury inflicted by the exotic plasma weaponry of the Invid, made his identity perfectly clear even before the alien spoke in a deep rumbling timbre – due in no small part to the sheer size of the being – that echoed slightly though without the odd resonance of a Goa’uld or Tok’ra voice.

    “Asgard vessel I am Commander Breetai of the Free Zentraedi Forces,” the giant humanoid said. His words making Audun blink before exchanging a surprised look with his first officer. Free Zentraedi Forces? What in Odin’s name was going on here. “This planet and system are under our protection. Identify yourselves immediately and state your business for being here. If you do not, we will assume your intentions are hostile and respond accordingly.”

    “Commander Breetai I am Commander Audun of the Skuld. There is no need for threats we mean you and this planet no harm.”

    “Given the last few times our species have encountered one another you have meant us harm you will forgive me if I am hesitant to believe you, Commander Audun,” Breetai replied. Audun gave a subtle Asgardian wince at that; it was true that the last few times Asgard and Zentraedi had met it had not been a pleasant meeting for either of them. Indeed both of them had inflicted heavy losses upon one another – the sheer size of the Zentraedi warships and their thick, advanced armour allowing them to soak up ion cannon bolts that would have destroyed a Goa’uld ship in a few seconds meaning it took far longer than the Asgard were used to for their ships to destroy a Zentraedi vessel, all the while even the watered down versions of Tirolian weapons given to the Zentraedi by the Robotech Masters would be steadily ripping away the shields of even their strongest warships – which had left a very sour taste in the mouth of both their species as neither of them was used to losing battles.

    “However, as our Terran friends and allies would say I will give you the benefit of the doubt,” Breetai continued, “so I will ask you again Commander Audun why are you here?”

    “We were concerned,” Audun admitted. “We investigated a large explosion in orbit of the planet Linkotis and found debris consistent with a number of Goa’uld vessels and an energy residue consistent with Zentraedi weapons. We also detected a fold vector leading out of the system.”

    “And that led you here.”

    “Indeed. We were concerned that the Robotech Masters were attempting to establish a foothold in this galaxy and your presence here shows we were correct.”

    “My people and I no longer serve the Robotech Masters,” Breetai answered in a tone that communicated that neither he nor those under his command served the Tirolians any longer and if he had his way they never would again. “We serve nobody but our own future. A future that thanks to the Terrans we are increasingly learning to build for ourselves. The cost to them of freeing us was high as our former supreme leader Dolza attempted to exterminate both them and us, but they survived and together we defeated Dolza and his fleet.”

    “They sound impressive. I would like to speak with them.”

    “I believe that can be arranged. I will speak with them though it will be their decision if they speak with you or not.”

    “I understand.”

    “Good remain at your present coordinates I will be back in touch with you shortly. Breetai out.”

    The holographic screen shimmered out of existence as the Zentraedi closed down the communications link from their side. Silence reigned on the bridge of the Asgard cruiser for several seconds, the entire bridge crew somewhat stunned by what they had just learned. Somehow the people of this planet had fundamentally altered the intergalactic balance of power by somehow breaking the chains of servitude that had bound the Zentraedi to the Tirolians from their earliest beginnings as miners on the giant planet Fantoma. Then the sensors chirped slightly.

    “Commander the Zentraedi ships are powering down their weapons systems,” the officer manning that console reported, causing a ripple of surprise around the bridge. “All gun and missile ports are closing and targeting systems also powering down. All Zentraedi fighters and battle mecha are resuming previous patrol pattern.”

    “They really have changed,” Briar commented, knowing in the past that the Zentraedi would never have behaved in such a fashion around them. Nor would they have talked to them with anything other than charged particle beams.

    “Indeed, whatever has happened here it has fundamentally changed the intergalactic balance of power,” Audun agreed. “Communications contact the High Council. Advise them of our current situation, include a copy of the conversation with Commander Breetai, and request instructions.”

    “Yes commander.”

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust. I hope you all enjoyed it. If the Asgard and the Zentraedi appeared quite belligerent to one another it is because the two species have a complicated and very bloody history. They have faced each other in combat many times across a number of different galaxies where the Robotech Masters have, or had, influence and neither has particularly enjoyed the experience as while Asgard warships are more powerful one on one the Zentraedi weapons are nothing to sneer at power wise and in superior numbers are fully capable of overpowering and destroying an Asgard vessel. Needless to say, neither species has a very good feelings for the other though that might begin to change soon. Well, that’s all for now, until next time.
     
    Chapter Twelve
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Twelve

    Asgard Battlecruiser Skuld
    A Short Time Later


    Sitting in the chair in his quarters Audun studied the holographic display that filled the entire wall opposite him. While they were waiting to be contacted by the humans who called this planet home, he had had the crew running sensor sweeps. Nothing that could be constituted as being overly aggressive or intrusive, despite Commander Breetai's words he knew that the Zentraedi wouldn't hesitate to blast them out of space if they did anything that could be constituted as hostile, but enough to get some idea of what had happened in this system since the last time the Asgard had ventured here just after this worlds people had developed primitive, if effective, nuclear weapons.

    What they had discovered was both surprising and very concerning.

    They had quickly detected an enormous amount of dust outside the ship. Dust that was slowly but surely spreading out across the planets orbital path, dust that was composed of absolutely vast amounts of the hypercarbon, ceramic polymer and synthetic trinium alloys used in the construction of Zentraedi vessels and stations. The remnant energy traces in the debris clearly matched both Zentraedi and Tirolian particle weapons – though the latter was far too small to constitute a major Tirolian presence most likely no more than one or two of their warships but definitely not a mothership as their latest intelligence reports had confirmed that all the Azashar-class motherships, all twenty-seven of them, remained in orbit above Tirol – which while worrying was not the biggest cause for concern. No, the biggest cause for concern was the bigger remnant energy trace as well as the lingering clouds of phased gravitons and hyper phasic radiation, all of which matched the signature of reflex weaponry in both the beam weapon and warhead forms.

    A remnant energy trace that was bigger by far than any vestigial reflex energy trace that the Asgard had ever seen before, and they had had the dubious pleasure of having been on the receiving end of reflex weapons in the past. Indeed, dozens of Asgard warships had been destroyed by those devastatingly powerful weapons the handful of times they and the Tirolians/Robotech Masters and their Zentraedi servitors had openly fought one another. It was obvious from all the energy traces that there had been a battle here, a fierce and terrible battle, one that involved the exchange of both conventional robotech energy weapons and reflex weapons on an absolutely unprecedented scale.

    And from the rate of the dust dispersion and the decay rate of the remnant energy whatever battle had happened here it hadn't been that long ago. Their analysis indicated that the battle had taken place two years ago, at the most three. How did we not know such a battle had taken place, he thought confused, surely our sensors that monitor this galaxy would have noticed such a massive discharge of protoculture-based energy. Yes, I know that the bulk of our monitors attention has been focused on the Goa'uld ever since Sokar started the current civil war but still such a discharge should have been noticed. Noticed and flagged for a high priority investigation.

    He made a mental note to recommend to both Supreme Commander Thor and the Asgard High Council that the monitors be checked. After all, if they had missed such a massive discharge of energy then what else in this galaxy had they missed? It was not something that really bore thinking about. After all, while the Goa'uld Empire was the largest of the spacefaring empires in this galaxy, and had long been the most dominant militarily, it was not the only one. There were others and while some like the Serrakin Commonwealth could be fairly benign – well as long as you weren't the Goa'uld – others could be just as bad, if not worse, than the megalomaniacal parasites on a bad day.

    A bleep was the only warning he had before a new window opened on the holographic display showing Briar. "Sorry to disturb you commander but we have been hailed by Earth orbital control," he reported from his position on the bridge. "We have been granted permission to enter orbit and a vector has been sent for us to follow. We have also been informed that a government official will contact us shortly."

    "Understood. Proceed on the provided vector into planetary orbit," Audun ordered. "I will return to the bridge shortly."

    "Yes commander."

    Briar disappeared allowing the previous hologram to return. Audun manipulated the control stones on the arm of the chair, saving the latest analysis and sending them to the High Council for their perusal before dismissing the screen. He was just starting to manipulate the stones again when a faint shiver through the deck let him know that the main sublight engines had started up and they were beginning to move towards the planet. He paid it no mind as he manipulated the stones and pressed a few of the runes in a specific sequence, activating the internal transporter system.

    Silver-white light, and an ethereal musical tone, enveloped him and his quarters dissolved into the light. For a moment out of time all he saw was the light and all he heard was the sound, there was a tremendous feeling of movement, then the light and sound evaporated, and he found himself sitting on his chair on the bridge. He did not need to request a status report, the holograms floating around the room showing him clearly that they were precisely following the vector provided by orbital control. A vector that was taking them around and over a massive debris field that was slowly but surely forming a ring system around the planet. A glance at the sensor feeds revealed that the debris field was composed primarily of the broken remains of Zentraedi warships, fighters, and battle mecha though drifting amid the debris were other materials that were definitely not of Zentraedi origin being composed primarily of an alloy of hypercarbon, titanium and aluminium.

    A particularly large wreck – that had definitely once been a Zentraedi command ship – passed them and Earth itself came into view on the optical pickups. Immediately a subtle, Asgardian gasp of shock and horror went around the bridge. Earth had always been a beautiful world, with her vast blue oceans and green continents. It had always been easy to see why the Ancients had used it as a template for all their terraforming operations across the galaxies, as it had always been a jewel of a world.

    Now that jewel had been badly tarnished.

    The once vast green continents were brown and dirty with only some areas of greenery showing. Her once bright blue atmosphere slightly darker, choked as it was with ash and dust. Larger areas of white could be seen advancing slightly from the polar and high alpine regions. Even just looking at it the entire bridge crew of the Skuld could tell that the planet had been subjected to a massive orbital bombardment, one that had scoured vast areas of the once verdant world clean of life. The signs were everywhere as some of the craters from the bombardment were fully visible from space.

    "Sensors what can you detect," Audun ordered sadly, it was always deeply distressing to see a world this wounded. Especially when you knew how beautiful and full of life it had once been.

    "Commander sensors indicate that the planet has suffered a massive bombardment," the Asgard manning the sensor station reported, "we are reading vast areas of glassed and irradiated land that in many areas is only now beginning too properly cool. Five percent of the planets total water mass has vanished, likely boiled off into space during the assault. The atmosphere is heavily contaminated with dust and other particulates likely from the bombardment, though levels are dropping, and it appears a number of filtration towers have been built or are under construction, likely to help with the cleaning and stabilization of the atmosphere. Commander the vestige energy signature and radiation traces we're detecting match reflex weaponry."

    "How many human life forms?"

    "We estimate no more than twelve to thirteen million."

    "There should be billions on this world," Briar said sounding sad and angry. "Commander Breetai did say that the people of this world paid a terrible price for freeing his people from the grip of the Robotech Masters. I guess we now know how horrific that price was."

    "Agreed," Audun replied knowing that there was no way the Asgard High Council would allow a world, any world, to remain this damaged. He did not doubt that once they learned of this the Council would offer Asgardian assistance to the humans here in repairing as much as possible the devastation wrought upon their once beautiful planet. They might even contact their old allies and ask the Nox to assist given their own expertise in regenerating devastated ecosystems, though repairing the ecology of an entire planet would be a challenge even for them.

    "Commander we are entering orbit," the helmsman reported.

    "Incoming transmission from the planet," communications added, "engaging translation system."

    "Let me see it," Audun ordered.

    A moment later a holographic screen blinked into existence in front of him showing the face and upper torso of a human woman. She was middle aged with dark hair, with a few greys showing here and there no doubt caused by stress, a still beautiful face showed immense weariness and hinted at a deep lingering pain and grief. Something that was completely understandable as no species could endure a bombardment like the humans here had without being deeply traumatised by it. The woman was sitting in an office and through the windows behind her they could clearly see the outlines of a city that was slowly but surely being rebuilt.

    "Commander Audun my name is Doctor Elizabeth Weir of the United Earth Government State Department," the woman said. "Welcome to Earth. I apologise for the somewhat frosty reception you received from the Zentraedi. Commander Breetai and his forces are taking their protection duties very seriously and he informs me that your two species don't have the best of histories."

    "No, we do not," Audun admitted, "Though it was quite refreshing to talk with the Zentraedi with something other than particle beams. I assume that is your peoples doing?"

    "Indeed, though they do still have a great deal to learn about diplomacy and indeed anything that does not involve blasting someone or something to pieces," Weir answered, "they're learning but it takes time to overcome generations of neuro-somatic conditioning."

    "It is impressive that you have been able to accomplish as much as you have. The Robotech Masters are nothing if not very thorough with their conditioning of servitor species," Audun replied.

    "We've noticed. So, what brings you here to our planet Commander Audun?"

    "We were concerned," Audun replied before repeating what he had told Commander Breetai in their unprecedented talk with words instead of energy blasts. "When Commander Breetai told me you had managed to break the chains of servitude that bound his people to the Robotech Masters I knew that we had to speak. Doctor Weir, might I ask what happened here? How your people came into first contact then conflict with the Zentraedi in the first place? The territories where they can normally be found are after all many millions of light years away in a completely different galaxy to this one."

    "It is a very long story commander."

    "I have the time if you do."

    Weir chuckled. "I suppose I do at that," she answered, "very well. I suppose I better start at the very beginning of this particular story. You see on the night of Sunday 25th 1999 an event occurred in the sky above the South Pacific that would forever alter the course of our history…"

    ~~//~~

    Fort Minotaur, Crete
    A Short Time Later


    Lisa Hayes was a woman on a mission.

    She walked with a calm yet at the same time urgent grace through the subterranean corridors and hallways heading towards where she knew the base gym to be located which, given the mood he had been in for the last few days the anger lurking like molten lava behind his eyes, was where she expected to find her quarry. The individual she was after was none other than one Rick Hunter, she would normally leave him to vent quietly on his own – lord knew he had a damned good reason to be mad as hell given what Vosegus had done to his cousin Nathan – but right now she didn't have that luxury. Admiral Gloval wanted to speak with him about something, some important mission he wanted the leader of Skull squadron for, so he had asked her to go and find him and put them in contact as soon as she was able to.

    Of course, that was easier said than done.

    Rick Hunter did after all have a number of different ways to either vent or wind down. He was a frequent runner and was quite adept at parkour, she had seen him do it a number of times back in Macross City both when it had been inside the SDF-1 and now the rebuilt model outside the battered, halfway to destroyed battlefortress. Alternatively, he also enjoyed spending time doing aircraft maintenance and by all accounts was a very gifted mechanic in his own rite and picked up the art of maintaining and repairing even veritech fighters very quickly, something that to this day she knew had shocked the maintenance technicians on the SDF-1 during their long flight back to Earth from Pluto.

    Unfortunately, both those options were closed to him for now given that there was currently a ferocious storm raging above ground, battering the island with torrential rain and a force ten gale. Thus, all the hangars, runways and surface areas of the base were completely locked down till the storm passed. Unlike most other UEDF base Fort Minotaur didn't feature underground hangars as the base had never really been intended as a combat base, being constructed more as a research and development base in the years before the Rain, and thus only had surface hangars. Meaning Rick would have to have chosen a more physical outlet if he really wanted to vent.

    She arrived outside the gym. She took a deep breath before pushing open the doors and stepping into the small reception area. The young, enlisted man running the front desk looking up in surprise from the computer tablet he was reading at her arrival, before he shot up and stood at attention.

    "Commander Hayes sorry ma'am I wasn't expecting you," he said.

    "Stand easy private it's fine," Lisa replied prompting the young man to stand easy, "I am looking for Captain Hunter. I was told that he is here?"

    The private checked the workstation on the desk. "Yes, ma'am he is," he said, "he's in one of the private training rooms off the main floor. Room three. He asked not to be disturbed."

    "That's alright private he will tolerate me, and it won't come back on you," Lisa answered. He won't have a choice, she thought, plus when I tell him that I am there at the request of Admiral Gloval he shouldn't get that mad. Though she was hoping that Rick would be reasonable as they had started drawing a lot closer over the last two years, especially now that they were no longer cooped up on the ship with a certain teenage Chinese starlet, who had had far too much of an influence on Rick for her taste. Indeed, to the best of her knowledge Rick had had no real contact with Minmei for nearly two years and certainly not since she'd taken her cousin Lynn Kyle as her manager.

    "I understand ma'am. Do you wish me to show you to the room?"

    "I would appreciate that private," Lisa replied.

    "This way ma'am."

    Lisa nodded and followed the private through the doors into the corridor leading to the main floor. Doors on either side of the corridor lead to male and female changing rooms and showers. Lisa ignored them as they came to the end of the corridor and entered the gym. Immediately she was assaulted by a cacophony of noise – the sound of thumping music, the clank of weights moving, the humming of machines like treadmills and a constant hubbub of conversation – as with access to the training grounds on the surface currently closed by the storm every fitness fanatic on the base had come here to work out or just hang out with their mates while they worked out.

    She ignored the noise as best as she could, following the young private towards where some rooms were set aside for more private exercise or even for the practice of mediation. In no time at all they reached the room which Rick was using. Through the door she could distinctly hear the faint thump, thump, thump of something leather being struck. She was willing to bet that it was a punching bag or some other training dummy as one of the physical pursuits she knew Rick to enjoy was kickboxing. It was something she knew he'd picked up when undergoing basic training – where veritech pilots were encouraged to accept some form of unarmed combat training as it helped when fighting in battloid mode – back on the SDF-1 and had taken to it like a duck to water.

    "He's in here ma'am," the private said.

    "I guessed as much. You can go now private."

    "Yes ma'am."

    Lisa watched the private turn and walk back the way he came, skirting around a balancing ball that had gotten away from a particularly burly looking marine who was coming to retrieve it. Mentally she shook her head before knocking on the door and opening it. Sure, enough inside the room she could see a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. A bag that was constantly swaying under the impact of various punches and kicks as Rick really gave it what for. He was so engrossed that he didn't seem to see or hear the door opening and closing and didn't seem to register her presence. She was about to open her mouth to announce her presence when Rick stopped.

    "Something I can help you with Lisa," he asked his chest heaving as he took in deep breaths of air. Lisa had to force herself to look in his eyes and not at the way his t-shirt dark with sweat hugged tight to the muscles of his torso.

    "I've been sent to come and get you," Lisa replied as Rick walked over to where there was towel and a water bottle. She watched as he wiped his face before picking up the water bottle.

    "Oh, what for," Rick asked as he took a swig of mineral water.

    "Admiral Gloval wants to speak to you about something," she said, "I think he wants you for some mission or other. He knows that you probably want to stay here with Nathan but…"

    "…it's alright," Rick answered. "I was told earlier that both Nathan and Aunt Maria want to return to Denver as soon as possible. I believe Claudia has been put in charge of making sure there's some therapists available there for Nathan to talk to."

    "Knowing Claudia there will be," Lisa replied, "how is he doing Rick?"

    Rick grimaced. "Not good," he admitted, "the last few nights I know he's woken up screaming. Keeps seeing all the things that 'Prime' did in service to Vosegus, both myself and Aunt Maria tell him that it wasn't him that did it, that it isn't his fault but…"

    "He still feels guilty about it," Lisa finished for him.

    "Yeah."

    "It is going to take him a long time to come to terms with it. If he can."

    "He's a Hunter of course he can, we're made of quite stern stuff it will just take a while. I just… I wish I could find this Vosegus character so I can wring his neck for doing that to Nathan, I mean what did he do to deserve what's been done to him? Nathan was always so quiet and gentle."

    "I wish I knew," Lisa admitted walking up to Rick and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, not at all put off by the smell of sweat and the damp fabric under her hand. "Though much as I know you would love to kill Vosegus if you ever caught him, I don't think the Council would like that. They think he's some kind of alien living inside a human body and that he has been on this planet for a long time. A few millennia at least, they'll want to know what he's been doing in all that time."

    "So, no killing him assuming we ever find where the bastards gone to ground."

    "Afraid not."

    "Damn but then as Roy used to say them's the breaks. So do you know what mission the admiral wants me for?"

    "No idea, you'll have to ask him when you talk to him. I told him that I would get you to contact him back as soon as possible."

    "Right, I'll go to the communications centre and call him," Rick replied, "well after I've had a shower and got back in uniform."

    "That would be a good idea. I'll wait for you in reception."

    "Thanks Lisa. Oh, and Lisa after I've spoken to the admiral would you like to meet up and grab a bite to eat," Rick asked.

    Lisa smiled a hundred megawatt smiled and felt a little flutter inside. Rick was asking her out! Granted it would only be in the cafeteria here on the base – since nobody could leave till the storm passed which according to the meteorology department wouldn't be till early tomorrow at the earliest – but it was a start. "Sure, Rick I'd like that. But now you should go on and have your shower."

    Rick smiled and his blue eyes sparkled with mirth in that way that always made her heart flutter. "Yes ma'am," he replied with a mock salute causing Lisa to laugh before turning and leaving the room. Rick watched her go then gathered his things – touched a control on the wall that caused the punching bag he'd been taking out his rage over what had happened to Nathan on to retract into the ceiling for cleaning and repair – before leaving the room himself heading for the men's showers.

    ~~//~~

    Ten minutes later, now dressed in a clean uniform and smelling somewhat of soap, Rick found Lisa waiting for him as she'd indicated she would. She smiled slightly at him in greeting, and he smiled back, before together they left the gym and began making their way towards Fort Minotaur's communications centre.

    It did not take them that long to reach it, though they did have to pass through three security checkpoints to do so, as it was only two levels above the gym. Both presented an image of calm efficiency as they walked in, and Lisa went and spoke to one of the ratings on duty. Rick waited patiently for her to return, idly running a hand through his still somewhat damp hair as he did so. In no time at all Lisa returned.

    "Admiral Gloval is online waiting for you in one of the secure comm rooms," Lisa said as she arrived, "it's over here."

    Rick nodded and followed Lisa to the indicated room, where she gestured for him to go in alone. "I'll be right out here when you finish," she said.

    "Alright Lisa," Rick replied before he stepped into the room, the door automatically closing behind him. Calm he walked over to the only furniture in the room – a chair and a desk – and sat down before entering his security code and allowing the computer built into the desk to scan his DNA and other biometric data. For a second or two nothing happened as the computer thoroughly checked to determine if he was who he said he was and that he had sufficient security clearance for the call. Until apparently satisfied it allowed the communications link to open causing a holographic screen to pixel into existence over the desk as a projector field activated.

    "Ah Captain Hunter good there you are," Admiral Gloval said from where he was sitting in his office back in New Macross City. The windows behind him were blanked out, having polarized to prevent anyone on the outside seeing what they were talking about, windows that normally would show a view of the slowly decaying half-wrecked SDF-1 sitting in the middle of the new lake that bore the admiral's name. "I hope I haven't interrupted anything."

    "Nothing important sir I was just working off some of my anger with Vosegus over what he did to Nathan," Rick replied.

    "I see and how is your cousin Rick? I understand that he is not coping that well with his experience?"

    "No, he isn't," Rick admitted, "though I have hope that with time, patience and sufficient counselling he'll make as good a recovery as anyone can after having their personality overwritten while they were being biologically altered into whatever he is now. I just wish I could have five minutes in my veritech facing Vosegus, of course you wouldn't find his body afterwards."

    Gloval chuckled. The whole saying about if you hurt me, I'd hurt you but if you hurt my family, they'd never find your body was one that Russians often found themselves in complete agreement with their old American foes. "Indeed," he said before turning serious. "Unfortunately enquiring about your cousin is not the reason I wished to speak with you."

    "So, Lisa said. I believe you have a mission you want me to go on?"

    "Yes. I need you to lead a small expedition to Mars," Gloval replied.

    Rick frowned. "Mars why?" he asked curious plus he wasn't that eager to revisit the red planet. The last time he'd been there they'd almost all gotten killed when they'd had their first run in with the Zentraedi warlord Khyron the Destroyer – of Khyron the Backstabber depending on which Zentraedi you talked to – who'd caught the SDF-1 in an expertly laid trap involving an army of battlepods and gravity mines. A trap that they'd only just escaped with their lives.

    "I know it probably your favourite place to go given we all nearly died there but let me explain," Gloval said, Rick nodded back, and the Russian man began explaining what it was he actually wanted him to do and why he wanted him to do it. Rick blinked in surprise as Gloval revealed the presence of a previously unknown energy signature at the bottom of a deep cave on the slope of the Martian volcano Arsia Mons. An energy signature that the Zentraedi had been able to identify as being sekitan-based and was coming from some kind of ship, but that the giant humanoids hadn't been able to find out anything else due to both the depth of the cave and various ferrous metal ores in the ancient lava rocks disrupting their sensors.

    "Normally I would assign a mission like this to Lisa but given what happened the last time she was on Mars," Gloval said.

    "I understand sir," Rick replied, knowing that any visit to Mars would always be especially painful for Lisa given that it was the place where her finance Karl Riber had died, along with everyone on Mars Base One/Base Sara in two thousand five. "I'll lead the mission sir. What exactly do you want us to do? And when do we leave?"

    "I want you to investigate that ship Rick," Gloval answered, "find out where it came from, how long it has been there, and why someone chose to hide it in a cave on the flank of an extinct extra-terrestrial volcano. I will be assigning half of Skull Squadron to the mission along with a contingent of scientists from the Robotech Research Group led by Doctor Miles Cochrane. The team should be assembled by the end of the week.

    "Once you are all together you will travel to Mars aboard a Zentraedi cruiser," Gloval continued, "once in orbit you are to descend to the planet and commence exploring the vessel. Assuming of course that you are able to gain access to it."

    "I understand sir I will return to Macross City as soon as the storm that's locked us down here breaks and it's safe to fly again. Sir might I tell my family why I am going to Mars at least in general terms."

    "I will leave that judgement to you Rick," Gloval answered, "we will discuss the mission more when you return to Macross City. Gloval out."

    The holographic screen pixeled out of existence as Gloval closed down the communications link from his end. For a few moments Rick sat there deep in thought both excited at the prospect of having a mission that would give him something to do other than worry about Nathan – and rage over what that bastard Vosegus had done to him – and a little dismayed that he wouldn't be the one to take Nathan and Aunt Maria back to their home in Denver. But that was the downside of being in the military as while Gloval had phrased it more like a request that he take the lead in the mission to Mars he knew it to be an order. Which was why he had said he would lead the mission.

    Of course, he would have to first figure out how much he could safely tell not just Aunt Maria but Lisa about all of this.

    ~~~///~~~

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust. I hoped that you all enjoyed it as I was honestly surprised at how quickly this particular chapter actually came together once I started it. I was originally going to have another section on the end of the chapter featuring Commander Audun talking to the Asgard High Council and filling them in on everything they've discovered so far but I quickly concluded that it wasn't really necessary for this chapter – and the fact was it wasn't working anyway – so I ultimately removed it. Until next time.
     
    Interlude Four
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Authors Note: Here's another short interlude chapter, its essentially the scene with the Asgard that I was originally going to put at the end of the last chapter but couldn't get it to work so it was left out. I have since reworked it and I think it works quite well now and hopefully set's some of the tone for how the Asgard are going to interact with Earth in coming chapters.

    ---///---

    Interlude Four

    Asgard High Council
    Halla, Ida Galaxy
    A Short Time Later


    Silence reigned in the Great Hall that had for many millennia – from their earliest beginnings to their modern spacefaring society - served as the home and meeting place of the leadership of the Asgard race. It was a truly vast space, capable of housing over a thousand Asgardians at a time, though rarely was their instance where the full council had to gather. Nor had it gathered now. Instead to hear the report from Commander Audun on what the Skuld had discovered – first over the planet of Linkotis and then Earth – only the members of the Inner Council – the Asgardian equivalent of a human cabinet of ministers – had assembled for the report.

    To say that they were surprised by the commander's testimony would have been an understatement. In fact, they were both astonished and horrified which, considering the generally calm and level-headed nature of their species which completely belied their fierceness in combat, was quite the statement to make. Though in this instance, for the situation that was being revealed to them, all the Asgard present considered the response to be completely understandable.

    The surprise came from the fact that Commander Audun had discovered the reason for the Tirolians odd behaviour over the last couple of years. For over a decade the ruling body of the Tirolian Empire - Robotech Masters – had been behaving in away that was very atypical of them. They had been sending fleets of Zentraedi warships – by their estimates most of the entire armada commanded by the bioengineered giants – far beyond the borders of the empire. Indeed, they had sent them venturing farther than they ever had before even across the great eternal void of intergalactic space to galaxies farther from Andromeda and its attendant dwarf galaxies than the Tirolians had ever attempted to travel before now. After all, while the space folding technology they used for interstellar travel was capable of such voyages it generally wasn't done.

    At first the Asgard had assumed that the Tirolians were looking to expand their already vast – even by Asgardian standards – empire. They had done such things in the past after all when they'd annexed almost all of Andromeda's satellite dwarf galaxies as much like the Goa'uld System Lords the Robotech Masters had a voracious appetite for power not to mention a very unhealthy obsession with controlling anything and everything they could get their hands on.

    Yet it had soon become apparent that that was not the case this time.

    No reinforcement expeditions had been detected leaving Tirol – if anything the amount of traffic travelling to Tirol had diminished significantly – and the Zentraedi had never hung around long enough to be realistically engaged in any kind of protracted battle campaign. And not on the kind of scale that would be required to conquer and subdue an entire galaxy – even with their vast numbers and advanced particle and laser weaponry such battles would have been very costly and time consuming for the Zentraedi. The only logical conclusion that the Asgard had been able to draw was that they were looking for something.

    Until now however they had not known what that something was.

    According to Audun's report the Zentraedi had been looking for the flagship of the Tirolian scientist and reluctant Robotech Master Zor – a man that the Asgard people honestly admired and pitied in equal measure. Admired for his scientific and technological achievements, he had been one of most prolific inventors to grace the universe since the end of the age of the Ancients. Pitied for how the other Robotech Masters had perverted his incredible discoveries transforming them into tools of war, conquest and oppression across a sizeable chunk of the known universe.

    As far as the Asgard were aware Zor had seemingly died many years ago. Decryption of some intercepted Tirolian communications had reported his apparent death in an Invid attack upon one of the numerous automated outposts and supply stations that littered the outer edges of Tirolian space. However other than that the Asgard had known nothing about what had taken place and they had naturally assumed that indeed Zor was dead and that his ship – despite the immense firepower possessed by a Sian Macross-class battlefortress – had been destroyed in the battle that had seen his demise.

    They had been wrong.

    Instead as the outpost came under attack from Invid hiveships Zor had deliberately sent his ship away with no crew aboard. Sending the vessel far, far away into and beyond intergalactic space in the hope that the ship – and something he had concealed aboard it – would never be found by the other Robotech Masters and just become lost forever in the eternal void.

    But that had not transpired.

    Instead, Audun reported that the vessel had someone ended up in the galaxy that the Ancients had called Avalon. Thankfully it had not been encountered or captured by any of the Goa'uld – the small group of Asgard shuddered at the mere thought of the kind of chaos and terror those megalomaniacal parasites would have wrecked across the universe if they had gotten their grubby little hands on robotechnology they were bad enough with the technology they already had – instead the vessel had crash landed on Earth. Where it had inevitably been discovered by that world human inhabitants who had rapidly begun reverse engineering the vessels technology while also repairing and refitting it.

    They had needed it as ten years after the vessel crashed the Zentraedi had arrived in Sol. Inevitably a battle had begun between the humans – who according to Audun now referred to themselves as Terrans - and the Zentraedi with the former wanting to keep the ship and the latter wanting to take it from them. Somehow during this conflict something unexpected happened and the Terrans somehow began undoing the conditioning used by the Robotech Masters to bind the Zentraedi to their will. Two and a half years after the battle began over a million Zentraedi warships – an entire Imperial-class fleet, a force powerful enough to subdue an entire quadrant of space on its own – defected to their side along with Breetai one of the oldest, most experienced and most capable commanders in the entire Zentraedi armada.

    The Zentraedi supreme commander, Dolza, had naturally not liked this seeing it both as a threat and a challenge to his authority and his response was utterly horrifying.

    Dolza had folded almost the entire Zentraedi armada – and his command base – into orbit above Earth. He had then proceeded to bombard the planet with both reflex and conventional particle beam weaponry to wipe the 'threat' from existence. While he had come close to succeeding, he had failed as the Terrans and the allied Zentraedi fought back, fought back and ultimately defeated Dolza and in the process destroyed most of his forces. Since then, they had been slowly but steadily trying to rebuild a planet that had been virtually glassed and, in the process, had uncovered their worlds long buried Stargate.

    "How did we not know this had taken place," Supreme Commander Thor asked from his seat, sounding confused and concerned. "Surely the sensors we have monitoring that galaxy would have detected the arrival of Zor's ship or at very least the arrival of the first Zentraedi force."

    "They should have indeed we will have to check them," First Councillor Penegal replied with a subtle Asgardian frown. "Thor will you dispatch a ship to the site of the monitoring station to investigate?"

    "I will see to it as soon as we are finished here," Thor answered, already mentally working out which ship to send assuming he didn't decide to go himself. "Commander Audun what is the state of the Earth? And what is your reading on the people?"

    Audun looked uncomfortable as he replied. "The planet is very badly wounded," he admitted sounding both sad and angry. "While he did not have chance to completely obliterate it Dolza's assault – which the native Terrans apparently refer to as the Rain of Death – has caused massive ecological and climatic damage to the planet with vast areas reduced to wastelands some still having dangerously high levels of the hyper phasic radiation left behind by reflex weaponry. The atmosphere is also heavily contaminated with dust and debris from the bombardment, though it has begun to slowly clear assisted by the fact that the survivors – with assistance from the Zentraedi allied to them – have begun building atmospheric filtration towers to assist with stabilization and eventual regeneration of the atmosphere. According to our scans they are setting up similar devices to clean and regenerate the land however given the extent of the damage sustained we estimate that it will take them at least a hundred years if not longer to make even a partial recovery and complete recovery maybe impossible with the technology that they have available to them.

    "As for the people while I cannot be certain given, I have only had one conversation with them I believe that they are quite a level-headed and rational people," Audun continued, "they are certainly a very impressive and resourceful people and clearly have many hidden depths if they were able to undermine and even begin to completely remove the neuro-somatic conditioning used on the Zentraedi by the Robotech Masters. I have another meeting scheduled with them in another few hours. They have asked me if I am willing to dock the Skuld aboard the factory satellite that they have captured for a face-to-face meeting."

    Surprise rippled through the members of the Inner Council.

    "They have a Robotech Factory Satellite?" Heimdall questioned just beating Thor to the punch. It was understandable as the Asgard had long been fascinated by the massive factory satellites that the Tirolians employed. Unfortunately, they had never been able to learn very much about them as not only were the stations usually well defended by fleets of Zentraedi – and sometimes even Tirolian – warships, both of whom were powerful and dangerous opponents even for their newest and most powerful warships, but the Tirolians had long ago developed the means to both deflect their sensors and prevent them simply transporting an investigation team aboard from a cloaked ship.

    "They do," Audun confirmed, "I do not know how they acquired it, though judging from the residual phased graviton traces around it we estimate they have only had it for a few months at the most. While our sensors naturally cannot penetrate the outer hull due to the built in Tirolian countermeasures, we can tell that the station is damaged though it is also clearly repairing itself. Of course, we cannot tell if the damage the station sustained occurred in a battle to take control of it of it is historical damage that for some reason wasn't repaired until now. What are your orders on this matter councillors?"

    The council members looked at one another as they considered how to respond and what to do about this most unexpected of developments. The anti-scanning countermeasures used by the Tirolians were mostly based in the outer hull sections of the factory satellites, it had long been believed that if they could get inside, they could learn a great deal more about the stations and how they worked. Now there was an opportunity to do just that.

    "Agree to the docking request," Penegal said at last, "however make sure that any scans run of the station's interior are as discreet as possible. While I will leave the final decision to you Commander Audun in your meeting, I would like you to be prepared to offer the Terrans our assistance in repairing the damage inflicted upon their planet by Dolza. Also, I would like you to inform them about the existence and extent of the Goa'uld Empire and some of the other spacefaring civilizations present in that galaxy. If they plan to make use of their Stargate, we cannot in good conscience not warn them of the danger presented especially by the Goa'uld."

    "I understand Penegal."

    "Good. Contact us again once your next meeting with the Terrans is concluded."

    Audun nodded in acquiescence before, sensing the dismissal, closing the communications link down from his end making his hologram evaporate into nothingness. For a few moments the great hall was quiet, then the members of the Inner Council began discussing these revelations and developments among themselves. Working out how not only their species could benefit from them, especially as the change that the Terrans had wrought on the Zentraedi had serious implications of the intergalactic balance of power between themselves and the Tirolians but help the people of Earth recover from the effects of Dolza's attack and prepare them as much as possible for the threats and dangers that lurked amidst Avalon's stars.

    The discussions would go on well into the night.

    ---///---

    Authors Notes: Well, that's this interlude done. I hope you all enjoyed it, I know it is a bit shorter than normal but it couldn't be helped. Now before anyone says anything I know that the Asgard might come across as being a bit more Machiavellian here than they would in normal Stargate however there is a good reason for it as they have been in a state of hot/cold/hot/cold war with the Tirolian Empire for centuries as the Asgard do not – and never have – approved of the imperialistic nature of the Robotech Masters and their empire however the Tirolian Empire is much larger than the Asgard Federation – one galaxy against many more since the Masters control all of Andromeda and most of its thirteen major satellite galaxies, really all but the Pegasus Irregular Galaxy where Atlantis is as the Masters avoid that like the plague due to ancient legends of a creature they call the Tosh Valat or life thief/stealer of life aka the Wraith – so the Asgard have always had to be very careful when confronting them especially as technologically while the Asgard are still more advanced the Tirolians technology is worryingly powerful even by their standards.

    Finally in this reality the Asgard haven't really encountered the Replicators as – while they do worry about the Goa'uld and protect some planets from them as sanctuaries for developing species as in Stargate canon – most of their focus and concern has been on the Tirolians who are capable of intergalactic travel using their space folding technology, they just don't like doing it very much at least the Masters don't they're quite happy to have the Zentraedi do it instead of them, making them a larger and more immediate threat to their race than the Goa'uld
     
    Chapter Thirteen
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Thirteen

    Robotech Factory Satellite
    Earth Orbit


    Martouf wore a slightly puzzled frown as he, and Freya, followed Doctor Grant out of the secure medical section of what he guessed to be a space station. A supposition that would fit with the fact that everything around them from the floors to the walls to the doors was all made from metal. Albeit a metal that he didn't immediately recognise, nor did Lantash and he was willing to bet that neither Freya nor Anise could identify it either as there was just something in the way it looked and sounded that said it wasn't a metal that was common in the galaxy. Certainly not in the way that trinium and naquada based alloys were.

    "Excuse me Doctor Grant but do you mind telling me where we are going," he asked as the dark-skinned human woman hadn't said where she was taking them, only asked them to follow her. A command backed up by the heavily armed soldier in tough, powerful looking body armour that had stood in their room – standing so still that he could almost have been a statue or a robot, only the breathing movement of his chest indicating that there was a man inside a man displaying a discipline that would have done any Jaffa warrior in the galaxy proud – the whole time.

    "Admiral Chase has asked me to bring you to central control," Jean replied, "we have an unexpected visitor – which is what tripped the battle alert earlier as they came out of hyperspace too close to us – and we are hoping you might tell us a bit more about them if you know anything."

    "We will certainly assist if we can," Freya replied, even as she continued to scan around with her eyes. The scientific minds possessed by both herself, and her symbiote Anise learning quite a bit from the simple act of carefully observing their surroundings. It was obvious to both that the people here were very technologically advanced, but that their technology was – much like the technology of the Tollan – distinctly non-standard as neither of them could sense the presence of naquada anywhere. Well beyond sensing Lantash inside Martouf. Plus, unknowingly like their companion, they both suspected that this facility was a space station of some kind.

    Idly she wondered just who it was that had arrived. Given that there had been none of the normal signs of a battle – no thundering rumble and faint shivers of weapons fire impacting an energy shield, no thrum of return fire – she doubted that the newcomer was a Goa'uld mothership. Meaning it was someone else the question was who as there were few civilizations capable of hyperspace travel in this galaxy outside of the Goa'uld Empire – the System Lords tended to wipe out without mercy any society that developed even basic spaceflight let alone discovered hyperspace and developed the ability to travel through it – really there were only three or four of them that she could think of off the top of her head. So, which one was it.

    "We will know soon enough, Freya," Anise told her calmly.

    "That we will," Freya agreed as Doctor Grant led them through a set of doors and the came to what looked like some form of station. She could see on the other side of the smallish room which formed a platform, tracks leading into a tunnel that led elsewhere in whatever this place was. "What is this place?"

    "One of many internal maglev stations," Doctor Grant replied, "this place is far too big to get around on foot alone." And isn't that the truth, Jean thought knowing that the factory satellite was simply so enormous that it would take weeks to walk from one side of the station to the other – and that was both assuming you stayed in the main core module and didn't have to venture to one of the side modules where they current were and were able to walk in a straight line. Thankfully installing internal maglevs had not been difficult, in fact something similar – just naturally scaled for full size Zentraedi – had been there already.

    "Just how big is this place and where exactly are we assuming you can tell us," Martouf asked as with a soft electromagnetic humming an oval-shaped pod of some kind appeared and opened a pair of doors, revealing a plane but comfortable looking interior.

    "Well, you'll find out soon enough so I don't see why I shouldn't tell you at least some of it," Jean replied as she led them into the pod where four seats facing each other were located. She gestured for Martouf and Freya to sit down in two of them – which they did – while she touched something on a small wall mounted control panel before she and the guard took the other chairs.

    "You're aboard a Robotech Factory Satellite anchored at one of the Lagranian Points over my home planet," she continued as with the humming of magnets, and the faintest of shivers, their maglev pod began moving accelerating rapidly to a hundred and twenty miles per hour though they felt little to no acceleration.

    "A factory satellite what is that?" Freya asked curious, "and what's robotech?"

    "You don't know?"

    "I am afraid we don't," Martouf answered honestly bemused at what the meaning of robotech could be, it was obviously something to do with these people's technology that was obvious but what it otherwise was he had no idea. Nor did Lantash and from the look on her face neither did Freya nor Anise.

    "Oh! I am sorry the only other spacefaring race we've encountered does know," Jean admitted, "robotech, or specifically robotechnology, is a catch all term for quite a number of very advanced biological, biomechanical and mechanical technologies and sciences. As for the factory satellite bit well, it is what it sounds like an artificial satellite where you can manufacture anything you want from small everyday items to the biggest starships. In fact, there is more industrial capacity here on the station than in many entire industrialised systems."

    Freya and Martouf exchanged a glace symbiotes and hosts alike wondering if that was a boast or a fact. Somehow, they all got the impression that it was the latter more than the former. Which meant that these people were even more advanced than they had first appeared to be, the Goa'uld would see them as a threat to be eliminated as soon as possible. Especially if the warship that had destroyed Lord Solec's mothership over Linkotis did indeed belong to this race. Though one thing that would certainly help these people – for now at least – when dealing with the Goa'uld was the ongoing civil war, which continued to rage now several years since Sokar first began his latest bid to dethrone Ra and the High Council of the System Lords. Thus, the System Lords would likely struggle to assemble sufficient military forces to take down a world as advanced as this one seemed to be.

    Both were brought out of their thoughts as the tunnel came to an end and the pod began crossing a bridge over a vast open space. But it was what occupied that space that caught the attention of both Tok'ra as standing, operating massive consoles, were several literal giants. They looked like humans, but each was at least fifty feet tall, and some appeared to be wearing enough armour to build an Al'kesh.

    "What, what are they," Anise spluttered taking over from her shell-shocked host. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't shocked herself, she had lived for millennia and she had never seen a lifeform so large assuming that they were indeed alive and not some kind of giant android. After a few seconds she realized that they were some of the beings that they had detected earlier on the cargo ships sensors. Still she, somewhat stupidly which she would later put down to shock as it wasn't every day that you encountered a lifeform so massive, found herself asking. "Are they alive?"

    Jean repressed the impulse to smirk slightly at the gobsmacked expressions on the faces of their two 'guests' as they beheld full sized Zentraedi – these ones operating the systems in this annex of the factory satellite – for the first time. She understood what they were feeling indeed she still remembered the mixture of shock, awe and mortal terror she'd felt the first time she'd beheld a full size Zentraedi.

    "Yes, they are alive," she replied. "They're called the Zentraedi a race of giant bioengineered humanoid warriors from a distant galaxy. In their natural form they're literal giants, with some individuals being up to sixty-feet tall, but through a process called micronization they can be reduced to normal size. The process can later be reversed if needed."

    Anise was stunned. The sheer knowledge of biology and bioengineering needed to accomplish something like that was advanced beyond her comprehension and even her imagination. No race known to the Tok'ra – not even the Asgard – had the knowledge and technology to do that, not to their knowledge anyway as there was still a great deal that they did not know about the diminutive grey-skinned aliens.

    "I see," she said as they left the open area behind and began travelling along another tunnel. After a few seconds the walls of the tunnel turned transparent and both Tok'ra were shocked once again to see they were travelling along a connecting tunnel heading towards what initially appeared to be a massive asteroid. Well, that was until they saw that the surface was far too regular to be rock but was in fact metal and was covered with various gantries, cranes and other projections whose purposes could only be guessed at. The entire thing was artificial, and both were stunned as the sheer power and majesty of the technology its size implied was virtually unbelievable.

    They exchanged another look before wondering just what the hell it was, they had stumbled into.

    --//--

    Central Core Transit Hub
    A Few Minutes Later


    Freya, Martouf and their symbiotes were all quiet as the maglev pod finally came to a stop. The journey through the interior of this station had been an awe inspiring, and somewhat frightening, experience. It was now obvious to both just how advanced the people here were – the effortless power that seemed to be at their command – and that Doctor Grant had not been wrong about the station's industrial capacity. It certainly put the highly industrialised systems of the Serrakin Commonwealth to shame, something that they had both thought impossible – the various worlds liberated and now inhabited by the reptiloid Serrakin, and their client species were known to be highly industrialised and commercialised with Hebridan being one of their biggest centres outside of Serrakin Prime itself – but now was as clear as day.

    The doors to the maglev pod opened revealing another platform beyond this one far busier than the one they had left behind. Through the open doors they could see dozens of humans in uniform moving this way and that as they went to various destinations on the station. Doctor Grant and their guard/escort choose that moment to sit up.

    "This way please," Jean said, prompting the two Tok'ra to stand up themselves. "Please stay close you don't want to get separated here."

    Both Tok'ra nodded in understanding though they were both aware that they would not be allowed to get separated from their escort here. The armed soldier behind them would ensure of that, plus the clothing they were wearing would kind of stick out like a pair of sore thumbs amidst the sea of uniforms. Still, they said nothing as they followed the doctor out of the maglev pod – which was immediately taken by a trio of humans off somewhere else on this giant space station – and followed her through the thronging crowds with the armoured soldier following closely behind.

    It didn't take long for them to get past the busy platform – which appeared to be one of dozens all of whom were quite busy indicating that this was probably the central transit hub of the station - to where a bank of lifts was located against one wall. Doctor Grant entered an access code into one panel causing the doors of one lift to open and permit them access, as soon as they were all aboard the lift began ascending.

    "Doctor Grant, might I ask just how big this station is," Anise asked even as she watched level indicators fly past. Coupled with the time it had taken the maglev pod to reach here it implied that this station was even more enormous in scale than they'd thought. "I assume that the answer is not classified."

    "It isn't so to answer your question, Anise, was it?" the other woman nodded, "the station is in total two hundred and eighteen kilometres long, sixty-eight kilometres tall and a hundred and twenty-eight kilometres across."

    "That's as big as some small moons," Lantash exclaimed in shock, a shock shared by his host and – from the look on her face – Anise and Freya too. They had known that the station was big from what they had already seen, but this was quite frankly ridiculous, he would accuse Doctor Grant of lying but he knew she wasn't. This space station really was that enormous, how it was possible to build on such a monumental scale he had absolutely no idea. Never in his experience – and not in the experience of the memories he had been given by Queen Egeria – could he recall there ever being a station this massive in the galaxy in modern times. It was something of a mystery if such a thing existed during the time of the Ancients as beyond their greatest legacy – the Stargates – they knew very little about that ancient but incredible race. The gulf of time from when their civilization abruptly vanished from the galaxy and the first time the Goa'uld opened the Stargate on their long lost homeworld was simply too vast being on the order of millions of years for much of their cultural legacy to have survived.

    "How can you build on this kind of scale," Anise demanded, shaking off her shock the scientist and engineer in her demanding answers to how all this was possible.

    "That's a complicated answer and unfortunately not one I can share with you at this time. I'm sorry."

    "We understand Doctor Grant," Freya replied instead of her symbiote. While they both knew and appreciated the reason why the question couldn't be answered at this time Anise still hated not knowing. As such she would no doubt sulk for a bit.

    "I am not sulking," Anise protested, "I am just disappointed that they don't trust us enough yet to answer our questions."

    "In other word's you're sulking."
    "Am not."

    "You are."

    "Children," Martouf said sternly guessing from the look in Freya's eyes what was going on and the last thing they needed right now was for Freya and Anise to enter one of their quiet bickering sessions. Those could go on for hours and were quite infamous among the ranks of Egeria's children.

    "Sorry."

    "Sorry."

    Jean chuckled and exchanged an amused look – well she thought his face hidden behind the opaque silver visor was amused – with their STORM commando guard. However, before she could say anything the lift slowed to a stop and the doors opened onto the main command level. Thus, she led the way out of the lift and down a corridor to a security checkpoint manned by a pair of marines who quickly let them through to continue their journey.

    A journey that ended in the antechamber of an office. The yeoman on duty at the reception desk looked up at the sound of their arrival and smiled. "He's waiting for you inside," the yeoman said pressing a button to inform the admiral that his guests had arrived.

    "Thank you, yeoman," Jean acknowledged, before leading the way into the office where one of the few members of the old UEDF High Command to survive the Rain – mostly due to having been in command of the L5 shipyard at the time - was waiting for them.

    Sitting behind a high-tech desk – which had numerous holograms floating in projector fields above its mirrored surface – was one Vice Admiral Christopher Chase. Much like Admiral Gloval he was a wily old seadog, having worked his way up the ranks of the British Royal Navy during the pre-unification days, though with more of an administrator air than the somewhat gruff Russian. Which was understandable when you factored in that he had spent the better part of the last decade overseeing the construction of UEG space navy forces and now was overseeing the replacement of those first-generation ships – the few that had survived the war - with new ones. Ones that were better able to fight a robotechnology fuelled war, something that she had heard from Vince was going well as the station had some absolutely amazing computer aided design tools available to help with starship design.

    At the sound of their arrival the admiral looked up, smiled and dismissed the holograms before standing up. "These are our two alien visitors doctor," Chase asked.

    "Yes, sir they are," Jean confirmed, "allow me to introduce Martouf and his symbiote Lantash and Freya and her symbiote Anise. Martouf, Lantash, Freya and Anise this is Vice Admiral Christopher Chase the commanding officer of this station."

    "A pleasure," Martouf replied with a nod and a smile, taking the lead in this issue as of the two of them himself and Lantash were the more diplomatically minded in comparison to Freya and Anise who could be blunt to say the least. Which was why the Tok'ra High Council never sent them on missions where diplomacy might be called for, well not unless there was no other choice or if – like in this case – they'd been on another mission altogether and fate decided to throw them through a loop.

    "The pleasure is mine," Chase answered, "please be seated. Doctor would you be kind enough to excuse us?"

    "Of course, sir. But before I go, I will tell you I have your appointment booked for two days from now and the yeoman who keeps your schedule has been informed," Jean said at the quizzical look Chase shot her, "sir do you forget your due for your annual physical – again."

    Chase winced and cringed slightly. He had hoped to get out of having to do the physical, he hated those things, as he had the last two. Which is probably why she went behind my back and booked the appointment and then told my yeoman when it is, he thought. "I had forgotten," he replied, lying through his teeth. The slight smirk that the doctor wore told him that she wasn't fooled one bit. "Thank you for that doctor."

    "You're welcome," Jean replied before leaving the room. The admiral watched her go, mentally wondering how he was going to get out of it this time around. It would not be easy as his new yeoman was a good man, but he was so rigid when it came to keeping to schedules that you could practically set your watch by him – he certainly treated the schedule like it was sacrosanct and not a guideline only. Inwardly he sighed and put it out of his thoughts for now – there would be time to think up a proper excuse or priority engagement to attend to avoid the physical later – and instead focused on his guests.

    "Sorry about that but Doctor Grant is something of a stickler when it comes to arranging yearly examinations," he explained to his guests.

    "We understand I know a few healers like that," Martouf replied, and he did. After all, while their symbiotes could heal most injuries and cure most diseases that healing/regenerative ability did have its limits and as such some conditions existed that could make both host and symbiote very sick indeed. In such instances healers were needed and were never much fun to deal with. While he had never been in that position himself, he knew Lantash had, indeed it had been an illness that neither symbiote nor healer could cure that had ultimately claimed the life of Korban – Lantash's host before him.

    "Huh must be a common factor of medical personnel all over the galaxy then."

    "I would say yes," Freya added.

    "Before we begin might I offer you both a drink?"

    "We're fine thank you," Martouf replied. "Though I should say thank you for pulling us off, Linkotis. If the Vallartan had captured us after our ship was shot down, I shudder to think what would have happened to us. Probably nothing good."

    "I still don't understand how simple high explosive shells could have damaged us so badly," Freya commented with a frown. "There was no naquada present in the explosive."

    "No there wasn't but there was powdered sekitan in the explosives," Chase explained, "when that burns it releases a type of particle that cannot exist in normal space-time for more than a second. When it breaks down it releases energy and produces small amounts of antimatter. Thankfully what was in the explosives was only a small amount."

    "Ah we have heard of a material with those properties before," Freya admitted recalling a handful of worlds that the Tok'ra had been to with human populations on them that used the odd coal-like ore their sources of naquada long since exhausted by the Goa'uld, "though I had no idea that it was called sekitan."

    "Well now you do and your welcome," Chase replied. "But let's get to the reason I asked to see you."

    "Doctor Grant indicated that you have some questions for us something about a race you have just encountered," Martouf prompted.

    "And others especially the Goa'uld as we know very little about them but there will be time for us to discuss them later. What can you tell me about a race called the Asgard."

    Martouf and Freya both blinked. "Why do you want to know about the Asgard?" Lantash asked taking over from Martouf. "Are they here?"

    "They are," Chase replied, hiding the sudden disquiet he was feeling at hearing a very alien sounding voice coming out of a human mouth. "One of their warships is currently hanging off the station. They will be coming in to dock with us soon. I have been asked to find out as much about them as possible before our own representatives arrive for a meeting with them."

    "Logical," Martouf answered taking over again as both himself and Lantash could see that the voice of his symbiote was making the human man uncomfortable. It was understandable as the distorted, inhumanly deep, voice of a symbiote was strange and alien sounding to human ears and was often associated with oppression and terror as the Goa'uld used it as proof of their supposed divinity. Though he suspected that – given what the admiral had said about needing information about the Goa'uld – in this instance it was more that the voice was too different instead of any remembered fear from some Goa'uld's rule long ago.

    "While we don't know much about the Asgard we can certainly tell you all that we do know," he continued.

    "That's fine," Chase replied knowing it was going to be interesting to see if the information that these two Tok'ra could provide would correlate with what information the Zentraedi had been able to provide on the Asgard. Which really wasn't that much not much more than the fact that they were a very powerful spacefaring civilization, one that was capable of intergalactic travel and was known to be hostile to the Zentraedi and their creators the ever-mysterious Robotech Masters. A quick tap of a control activated the recording devices in the office, which would let the review everything later. Then he nodded at Martouf to indicate for him to begin.

    Martouf nodded back in understanding. "Alright then the Asgard," he said. "I suppose that the first thing you should be made aware of is the fact that they are one of the oldest, and most powerful, of the known spacefaring races – older by far than the Goa'uld or any other race that we know of."

    Admiral Chase listened intently as the human/alien before him began to outline everything that he – and by extension the Tok'ra – knew about the Asgard. It was certainly far more information than what the Zentraedi had been able to provide though if he knew Exedore – and he did – the currently micronized Zentraedi advisor would already be going through his extensive records for any more information about the Asgard. He would soon however wish that he had asked about the Goa'uld first as far below his feet an event was about to happen...

    ... that would take three races to the brink of war.

    ---///---

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust I hope you all enjoyed it. I know not a lot happened in this chapter, well beyond the Tok'ra getting introduced to more of the power and scale of robotechnology but it is necessary for the future interaction between the races. Though next time things are going to get hot again between Earth and the Goa'uld, even as preparations continue both for a meeting with the Asgard and Rick's mission to Mars. Until next time.
     
    Chapter Fourteen
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Chapter Fourteen

    Officers Mess
    Fort Minotaur
    That Same Time


    "So, Admiral Gloval wants you to lead a mission to Mars?"

    Idly chewing on a somewhat rubbery piece of farfalle pasta Rick Hunter nodded in response to the question from the woman sitting opposite him, enjoying her own pasta dish. Lisa Hayes had waited an impressive period before asking him just what it was that Gloval had wanted. They had gone through the appetizer making idle small talk while they waited for their food to be delivered. Now though it appeared as though Lisa's patience had finally reached its end.

    "Yes, he does," Rick answered after swallowing that mouthful. "As soon as we get back to New Macross I will be meeting with the other members of the expedition that's currently being assembled. We'll then board one of the Zentraedi cruisers and fold to Mars."

    Lisa scowled. "Why on Earth would he want you to go to Mars," she asked curious and with an understandable amount of tension in her voice especially when she mentioned the name of the red planet. Due to the fact that her first love and fiancée had perished there – along with everyone else on Base Sara, at the time they'd assumed to AUL sabotage but which they now knew from documents that had been recovered from the smouldering ruins of Alaska Base to be an attack from a scouting Zentraedi cruiser – Mars would forever, for Lisa Hayes, be associated with a place of pain and the source of a wound on her heart that, while it had become more bearable in no small part to the pilot sitting opposite her, would never truly heal.

    The fact that they had both almost died there – along with everyone else on the SDF-1 when a certain purple-haired Zentraedi pest ambushed them – the last time they'd been on Mars didn't help matters.

    "You know ever since we discovered the Stargate buried in Egypt that the Zentraedi have been methodically scanning the other planets," Rick answered, before taking another bite of his pasta. Lisa nodded back as she ate some more of her own. When he could speak again Rick continued. "Well apparently, they've found something in one of the caves discovered on the flanks of the Arsia Mons volcano, a faint energy signature. Due to minerals in the overlying lava rock, they couldn't ID it from orbit, so they sent a Cyclops down to run some low altitude scans over the volcano."

    "An energy signature," Lisa repeated with a puzzled frown. "Wouldn't we have detected it when the SDF-1 approached the planet three years ago? Or during the month we spent in orbit after that first fracas with Khyron repairing the ships engines?"

    "I would have thought so," Rick answered with his own frown as it had been puzzling him since the moment that Gloval had mentioned it. The sensors on the SDF-1 were some of the most advanced sensor systems known to exist, certainly they were both more advanced and more powerful than the sensors on the Zentraedi ships were. So why hadn't they detected the energy signature themselves when they'd been orbiting Mars? "The only explanation I can think of is that it was shielded somehow. Plus, if I remember my Martian geography Arsia Mons is near one end of the Tharsis bulge, almost three quarters of the way around the planet from the former location of Base Sara."

    "I suppose that the distance could have been a factor," Lisa admitted, "plus if I remember right there was quite a sizeable dust storm raging over that part of the planet, given how charged those things can become it is conceivable that it concealed the energy signature from our scanners. So did the Cyclops reveal what is causing the signature."

    "It's coming from some type of ship," Rick admitted, "they've even identified the power source as being sekitan based, whatever sekitan is. Unfortunately, the ship is so deep beneath the surface, being in the deepest reaches of one of the caves, and there is so much interference from the ferrous metals in the overlying and surrounding rock that they cannot figure out anything more about the ship."

    "So, the only way to find out more about it is to go and have a look," Lisa concluded, "though to answer your question as I understand it sekitan is a coal like ore that can be an incredibly powerful source of energy. It's apparently more powerful than fusion but not as powerful as protoculture."

    "Interesting," Rick commented before taking a sip of water. "But yeah, that's the only way we're going to learn anymore about this ship, where it came from and how long it's been there, is for a team to go and have a look. Admiral Gloval is putting me in charge of that team… I just I hope I'm up to it Lisa. It's going to be different to commanding Skull Squadron."

    "You'll do fine Rick," Lisa said reassuringly, she could understand where he was coming from and why he was nervous about it. While he was a good squadron commander, and indeed had done quite an admirable job at commanding the SDF-1's air group after the death of Roy Fokker, commanding a team like this would be a new experience for him and completely outside his flying comfort zone. "Admiral Gloval wouldn't have assigned you the mission if he didn't think you could handle it, he knows – as do I – that you can."

    Rick smiled slightly. "Thanks Lisa."

    "You're welcome."

    They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they both focused on finishing their meal before it got cold, both quietly enjoying each other's company. Soon enough they finished, and Rick felt compelled to speak up again and address a rumour that he had been hearing everywhere for the last hour or so. More than one of the people in the gym had been talking about it – he'd overheard them before he went into that private room to take out his anger over what had happened to Nathan on the punching bag.

    "So, what's this I hear about an alien ship arriving in orbit," he asked.

    "You know about that already," Lisa answered, surprised then she shook her head ruefully. "Well, I guess that it's true what they say that the only thing faster than space folding is scuttlebutt. But yes, a warship belonging to an alien race called the Asgard arrived in orbit a short time ago – gave both orbital control and the Zentraedi quite a scare from what I am told. Apparently these Asgard and the Zentraedi have a long and somewhat storied history involving shooting particle beams at one another."

    "Sounds like the norm for relations between the Zentraedi and other races until they met us and Minmei's singing started breaking the conditioning that the Robotech Masters used on them," Rick commented, inwardly wincing at Lisa's words as he could easily see such a battle in his mind's eye. Hell, they had fought many such battles with the Zentraedi themselves, the biggest of which was responsible for the current mostly devastated state of the planet

    "Tell me they didn't come here for a fight," he said, hoping that they were not about to get caught up in another one of the numerous wars that the Zentraedi had fought in the name of the Robotech Masters for who knew how long. He honestly wasn't sure that the planet would survive getting caught in such a crossfire.

    "They haven't," Lisa said reassuringly, she had had the same worry as Rick when she'd been informed of the arrival of the Asgard battlecruiser. "Apparently someone from the Secretary of State's office has spoken with them and they'll be docking aboard the Factory Satellite in about half an hour prior to another more in-depth meeting."

    "We really need to give that place a proper name," Rick commented, though he was aware that such discussion was ongoing among the UEG leadership – well when they weren't fending off the stink that some of the independent states especially EBSIS and the United Islamic Republics – which used to be the countries of Syria, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Qatar, Kuwait and Iraq – we're making about them possessing the station. Especially as they had somehow found out that the station was now repairing itself and would within two months be fully operational once again, giving the UEG an industrial capability greater than the entire planet had had before the outbreak of the Robotech War. So far the complaints from the independent nations – who were not being permitted access and wouldn't be unless they joined the unified government at least as associate if not full on members – had been of the diplomatic sort and mostly hot air as none of them were in a position to really do anything in practical terms about them possessing the station since it was out of surface to space missile range and none of them had spacecraft capable of reaching it without being stopped and challenged – hell aside from EBSIS none of them could make it even into low orbit.

    Lisa nodded back. "We do though you know as well as I do that it is quite low on the list of the governments priorities especially given the diplomatic rows raging over the station's presence here in the first place," she pointed out. "You would think that getting almost blasted into oblivion by Dolza would get us over our distrust of one another."

    "I wish."

    Lisa nodded back, hearing the exasperation in Rick's voice over the way groups like EBSIS and the UIR were behaving. She – and frankly everyone who had been on the SDF-1 and fought a mostly one-ship war to protect all of Earth from the Zentraedi – shared that exasperation. She started to open her mouth to suggest that they change the topic but before she could begin to speak alarms began ringing throughout Fort Minotaur prompting her to shut her mouth and exchange a concerned and worried look with Rick even as they both stood up. They both knew what that alarm signified…

    …for the second time in as many weeks Fort Minotaur was under attack.

    --//--

    Stargate Chamber
    A Few Minutes Earlier


    Sergeant Zackary Reed was bored as he, and three other members of the UEDF Army detachment assigned to Fort Minotaur, stood guard over the Stargate. Ever since the report that their first expedition through the ancient alien device had been attacked by aliens from the gate, who had obviously come from another world, General Richards had ordered the gate watched twenty-four seven. Most of the time that was done via security camera's, unfortunately the one that watched the gate had since broken down and they didn't have a replacement in storage. While one had been ordered and would come in the next supply shipment from Heraklion, who knew when that would be due to the storm. In the meantime, Richards had assigned squads like Zackary's to watch the gate. While the idea of standing as a guardian against a potential alien incursion through the damned thing had sounded quite exciting to him – certainly far more than playing nursemaid to a bunch of science geeks was – when his fireteam had been assigned a shift the reality of it had been somewhat, well, boring.

    All he did was stand here, in full battle dress and carrying an AR-22 assault rifle, gazing at the device that looked almost like it was made from stone and not some insanely strong and exotic alien metal. Waiting for any sign of life from something that looked like it had stepped right off the set of Star Trek, well before the rising tumult of the Global Civil War had seen that show – and so many others – taken off the air. In the three hours since this five-hour shift had begun there was no sign of anything – indeed the only excitement they had had so far was a few minutes ago when some of the scientists had come in and began running some tests on both the ring and that odd vaguely mushroom-shaped pedestal device that seemed to be its control panel.

    He shifted slightly uncomfortable. His legs were aching from the heavy workout he'd done this morning, after all he hadn't really been scheduled to be on duty today, so he'd felt fine about doing a heavier than normal squats and other leg exercises, indeed he'd pounded the weights to the point that his muscles had been screaming for mercy by the end of workout only to find out later, when he got back to barracks, that there was a change in the duty schedule and that he was on duty after all. The reason being the storm battering the island had stranded the squad that would have been on this afternoon in Heraklion. It was only a combination of training, the latest gene mods he – like everyone else who joined the UEDF – had been given when he enlisted and sheer determination that was letting him ignore his complaining muscles. Blasted storm had to screw everything up, he thought, especially one that wasn't forecast until just an hour before it hit.

    Mentally he shook his head. Such surprise storms were not at all uncommon these days as the planets weather systems were still in an extreme state of flux after the Rain of Death. In addition to blasting countless amounts of dust and other fine particulates into the stratosphere the passage of the reflex beams from Dolza's fleet had heavily ionised all five layers of the Earth's atmosphere. The result was climatic chaos that even now, two years after the bombardment, was still springing the occasional unpleasant surprise on the people of their badly battered and bruised planet. Though at least this storm was simply wind and rain and not a white out blizzard like what some places – even places that historically rarely if ever saw snow – were experiencing and would only require some minor cleaning up afterwards instead of hours or days of shovelling.

    A sudden rumbling, grinding noise that was almost like stone grinding on stone and a vibration in the floor brought him out of his thoughts. He looked over to see that the inner ring of the Stargate was spinning and as he watched the first of the chevrons around the outer ring made the odd locking motion that they did and the crystal above it lit up orange. The ring continued to rotate moving to make the next chevron do the same thing. With a jolt he realized that what the brass had been afraid of was happening, somebody was dialling in from off world.

    After a second of dumbfounded astonishment training kicked in.

    "Everyone get to your positions now and someone call for backup," he yelled, "all scientists and technicians get out of here now."

    The handful of scientists and technicians in the repurposed wind tunnel didn't need to be told twice. They immediately began moving to leave the room while the troopers moved into positions to cover the gate with their guns, all except Corporal Stevens who was on his radio requesting backup. Zackary for his part trained his rifle on the gate as one of the scientists – who had been doing something off to one side of it – started to pass in front of the device.

    A device that chose that moment to complete its dialling sequence and roar into life.

    A silver-blue eruption exploded from the activating gate enveloping the scientist before he could even begin to react. In an instant the unfortunate man was completely vaporised by the unstable energies of the forming wormhole, leaving nothing to mark he had ever been there at all. Mercifully he hadn't even had the chance to scream. The unstable mass fell back into the ring and shimmering wall of the fully formed and stabilized event horizon filled the gate.

    For a moment more nothing happened then, with a strange slurping sound, an object the size of a basketball, likely an automated probe that was made from a pale grey metal that nobody present could immediately recognise, came floating through the event horizon. It advanced three or four meters into the room before stopping and beginning to sweep the area with some kind of yellow laser-fan like beam that Zackary was willing to bet was a sensor of some kind. It seemed to be especially interested in all of them standing around – even the scientists who had stopped and were looking at it in interest.

    The probe advanced a little bit further into the room before finally stopping its scanning and moving up towards the ceiling where it hovered just above the level of the top of the gate. Zackary resisted the impulse to look up at it, unlike some of the scientists who were following and tracking it with their eyes, some even starting to point their portable scanners at the alien drone. Instead, he kept his eyes, and his rifle, focused on the shimmering water-like wall of the event horizon.

    Thus, he didn't miss it when the first alien - wearing the same kind of uniform he had heard the people who'd attacked them nearly a fortnight ago had worn and having a face concealing helmet that looked like some kind of winged animal and carrying an odd staff – emerged from the gate. Another followed him – and from his size and body proportions the being could only be male – and another. Over the course of about forty-five seconds eight of the armoured individuals came through. A ninth man – this one dressed in a slightly more ornate golden-coloured version of the armour, but minus a staff instead there was some kind of device wrapped around his one hand – followed at the end. Within seconds of the individual stepping through the gate shut down with a vapour-like flash.

    For a moment nothing more happened, everyone staring at each other not quite sure how to react to the tableau before them. Then one of the scientists stepped forward, holding up his hands in as nonthreatening manner as possible. The aliens watched for a moment before the one in gold reacted.

    "Jaffa kell nai shok," the being said in a deep distorted voice that was not in any way human.

    Faster than anyone could react one of the aliens reacted grabbing the scientist and spinning him around and holding him immobile. Simultaneously the other aliens levelled their staffs at them, the bulbous ends opening with a strange electrical crackling noise.

    "Let him go," Zackary ordered not at all intimidated by the obvious threat.

    "Kree shak shell Jaffa," the gold alien said. Again, the response was immediately as one of the aliens touched something and a bolt of golden energy burst from the muzzle of the staff. The bolt crossed the s pace to one of the other scientists and slammed into the man with the force of a charging bull. There was a brilliant flash of flame, and a scream of pain, as the scientist was physically picked and slammed against the far wall by the force imparted. The scientists lifeless body crumbled to the ground, leaving a slick of blood on the wall.

    Incensed by the sudden senseless murder Zackary pulled the trigger on his rifle hard enough to trigger a three-round burst. Within the AR-22 rifle drops of two separate liquids – that individually were completely harmless but when combined produced an explosive force that made any other propellent used by humanity during their long, bloody history look like a child's toy – combined and accelerated three projectiles down the barrel at hypersonic velocity, the 5.56mm rounds exploded from the weapon with a roar like an angry dragon. In a literal blink of an eye, they slammed into the torso of the offending alien, being designed to punch through even Zentraedi body armour, the rounds easily ripped through the thin trinium-steel mesh being used in the chainmail-like armour to rip apart the chest of the being underneath. The alien cried out in pain even as it collapsed and lay, unmoving on the floor in a rapidly spreading pool of very human-looking blood.

    "Kree'shak Jaffa," the alien leader yelled after a second, surprise and anger clear to hear in its voice. It had clearly not expected Zackary to return fire so quickly and for the return fire to prove so devastatingly effective against its troops. The response from the alien troops to their leader's command was immediate as they levelled their staffs and opened fire.

    Chaos ensued.

    The handful of scientists and technicians who had remained in the room after the Stargate completed its activation sequence, screamed, and scrambled to get out of way. It didn't help as within seconds two of them were hit in the back and killed by the alien weapons. Zackary and the rest of his squad returned fire as best they could, trying to engage their attackers without hitting the scientists. The sound of gunfire, both the deep throaty roar of the AR-22's and the more high-pitched thumping whoosh of the alien energy weapons, echoed through the wind tunnel along with the yells and screams of people getting hit by the sudden deluge of weapons fire.

    Faintly over it all there was the sudden blaring of klaxons, alerting the rest of the base to the sudden attack.

    Zackary allowed himself as grim smile as he heard the alarms going off. Soon more army personnel and marines, all of them bristling with weapons including in the case of the latter lasers, would come storming into the room ready to kick some serious alien butt. Another alien went down in a burst of fire from his rifle, and he changed his focus to the golden one who was the leader, who he immediately fired upon. Only for the projectiles to detonate against a shimmering pillar of energy that appeared and completely encompassed the alien.

    Though he couldn't see a face through the helmet he got the distinct impression that the alien was smirking at him as it raised the hand with the strange device on it. The alien pointed his palm and what appeared to be a crystal of some sort in a golden metallic housing at him. The crystal suddenly glowed and a rippling wave of force exploded from it and slammed into him with a force that felt like a battloids fist. Zackary found himself lifted off the floor like he was a leaf in a stiff wind – and not a six-foot tall, two hundred- and five-pound man – and slammed with both bone jarring and breath-taking force into the far wall. His rifle fell from suddenly nerveless fingers as he slumped to the floor dazed, his back screaming in agony from sudden bruises.

    For what seemed like an eternity he heard the fighting continue – albeit in a distant, subdued fashion as though it was coming from some distance away and not just a few feet away – until as abruptly as it began it stopped. He faintly heard heavy metallic footsteps, the alien boots seemingly specifically designed to make a clank, clank, clank, clank noise as they moved, before he felt strong hands pick him up, he was still too dazed from the impact with the wall to offer any resistance and found himself face to helmet with the alien leader. The alien's faceplate parted in the middle revealing the face of a handsome man of Mediterranean descent, but it was the eyes that sent a shiver of dread down his spine. They were colder than liquid nitrogen and as merciless as the vacuum of space itself.

    For a second the alien seemed to study him then his eyes glowed from within as if he suddenly had spotlights behind them. "You could indeed be the one," he said in English this time though with that same distorted, creepy as hell, voice. "Bring him. Jaffa kree ta chappa'ai."

    "Yes, my lord," Zackary faintly heard one of the other aliens say, shockingly in a normal voice. Somehow Zackary had expected all the aliens to speak with that weird ass voice. Deciding he didn't want to go with the aliens, something telling him that it wouldn't be very pleasant, he began struggling to break free from his captors. He found himself wishing, not for the first time that regular troops like him would get issued the Tristan armour that the STORM Commandoes used, with the power aid of that things nano-muscle servos he would have no difficulty shaking off the aliens holding him. As it was it felt like trying to break free from a pair of vices.

    "You have spirit indeed," the alien leader said with an amused chuckle before he raised his weapon again and brought it to just above Zackary's forehead. The jewel lit up again and suddenly Zackary felt all the strength leave his body and he slumped near boneless in his captors' arms. The alien withdrew the weapon and satisfied that he would offer no more resistance – that he couldn't much as he wanted to until the energy imparted by the weapon faded from his system – closed its helmet again.

    Zackary could hear the Stargate dialling again and he felt himself being turned to look at it. He watched helpless as the inner ring repeatedly spun and one by one the chevrons lit up until the unstable vortex burst into existence before settling back into stability. The alien leader took the lead, and they began – well in Zackary's case he was dragged – to move towards it.

    They were almost to it when the snap of laser fire reached his ears along with a scream from one of the aliens as he was hit. About time guys, he thought knowing the first marines had arrived, their laser rifles spitting beams of coherent, supercharged photonic death. He heard another alien cry out as they were taken down by the beams.

    "Heeshak," the alien leader said sounding both enraged and fearful as the lasers began cutting his men down. The alien picked up his pace to a fast walk and disappeared through the event horizon of the wormhole, the two aliens holding Zackary doing the same…

    …dragging him through with them.

    --//--

    Following behind the squad of marines who had responded to the security alert from the repurposed wind tunnel housing the Stargate Colonel Kowalski scowled as he observed three of the alien raiding party – and a captive – vanish back through the Stargate the rest of the raiders cut down by the marine's lasers, well those who hadn't been killed by the assault rifles of the army troops. Within a second of the aliens and their prisoner disappearing back through the wormhole it vanished in a vapour-like flash of energy.

    "Damn it," he cursed, furious that they hadn't been able to stop the aliens escaping with their prisoner. He looked at the other marines. "Status?"

    "Sir all hostiles terminated," the lieutenant who had led the squad reported, "one hostage recovered, it looks like the army boys got his captor with a headshot and he was able to escape into a ventilation duct during the crossfire. Only three of the raiders escaped with a prisoner."

    "I saw that bit," Kowalski growled slightly, knowing that there was no way that the Defence Council would let this attack go. Whoever had attacked them was going to get it, and have it explained at the point of a particle cannon what happened to anyone who dared to attack them and take some of their people prisoner. That was if they could find out where they came from. "Tell me the camera's watching the dialling device and the Stargate are still working."

    "The one watching the gate itself isn't sir it broke down this morning and was awaiting replacement," the lieutenant replied, "that's why the army squaddies were in here in the first place to watch the gate while we waited for a new camera to arrive in the next supply shipment from Heraklion. However, the one watching the dialling device should be."

    "Get someone to the security centre and pull its logs," Kowalski ordered, "see if you can find the exact symbols the aliens pushed, and the sequence they pushed them in. The Council is going to want them as there is no way they will let this stand."

    "I understand sir I'll get them. When I have them printed out should I bring them to you or General Richards?"

    "Bring them to Richards, he and I will have to report this to the Council anyway. In the meantime, have someone take the alien bodies to the medical section. Maybe the autopsies will be able to tell us a bit more about who these bastards are. As for the tech take it to the labs, Carter will be sure to have someone who can analyse it all."

    "Understood sir I'll get right on it."

    As the lieutenant began carrying out his orders Kowalski turned his attention back to the gate, mentally replaying their final flight through it. You better be sure to give yourselves a good head start, he thought, wishing he could somehow beam his thoughts across who knew how many light years to wherever the raiders had come from, because we'll be coming for you, whoever you are and mark my words you will pay for this unprovoked attack.

    ---///---

    Authors Note: Well, another chapter bites the metaphorical dust I hope you all enjoyed it. The identity of the Goa'uld who just led the raid on Fort Minotaur – and got one hell of a scare when the counterattack came as while Goa'uld personal shields will stop a laser blast it won't do it for long as the power cell for the shield in the kara'kesh hand device can only keep the force field up so long when under fire – will be revealed in the next chapter. As will the fate of Sergeant Reed though I think you can probably guess what is going to happen to him, at least for a while.

    With the madness of Christmas now only ten days away said chapter probably won't be ready until the New Year – give you all something to look forward to lol – though I am hoping to get a new chapter ready for a different story before the big day arrives but naturally, I cannot promise anything, especially given how crazy it can get around here in the build up to Christmas. Until next time.
     
    Chapter Fifteen
  • AJW

    Well-known member
    Authors Note: Well first off let me start by wishing everyone Happy New Year I hope you all had a good Christmas and are ready to face the year ahead. Hopefully this year will be much better for everyone that twenty twenty-two was. What better way to start a new year of writing than with an update for one of my fic’s so here you all go. A quick reminder that conversation in bold represents the distorted voice of a Goa’uld or a Tok’ra symbiote, conversation in bold italic represents a symbiote talking to a host and conversation in italic represents a host speaking to a symbiote. Okay now that quick refresher is out of the way let’s crack on with the first update of the year.

    ---///---

    Chapter Fifteen

    Elysium
    Goa’uld Empire

    Hades was quietly shaking in a combination of fear and rage as he emerged from the Stargate on the planet he had long claimed as his throne world. He had thought he had gotten lucky when he had dialled one of the oldest Stargate addresses known to the Goa’uld, an address that for eons hadn’t worked, and gotten the gate to establish a wormhole connection. The probe he’d sent through had revealed the presence of humans on the other side along with the fact that both the gate and the dialling device were fully uncovered and operational. Naturally he had taken a small squad of his elite Jaffa through the gate to do a reconnaissance in force, to get the measure of these humans and from there determine if their world was viable to annexation into his small but slowly growing empire.

    The hope had been that it would be as the planet, which from its star coordinates was somewhere in the remotest hinterlands of Ra’s domain and a place where the Supreme System Lord hadn’t ventured for a few millennia at least, would have made a good location for a secret staging ground. A place where he could build up his forces and when the time was right, when Sokar launched his next big offensive, launch an assault on Ra’s core territories. Something that would hopefully let him break the currently quiet torturous stalemate between the factions and bring this galaxy wide civil war to an end. At least that had been the hope and the plan.

    What he had not anticipated and indeed should have been impossible – humans existed to serve his kind as slaves and hosts, they should never have the inclination nor the ability to hurt those who should be worshipped as their gods – was for the humans there to be able to put up such stiff resistance and do some with some weapons that were downright deadly. The ease with which first the projectiles fired back by the first group of humans, then the Anubis-cursed lasers their reinforcements had used, had cut through the armour of his Jaffa as it were made of paper and not a tough trinium-steel composite. Faced with such overwhelming firepower – and knowing from experience that a personal shield could only stop so much before its capacitor was drained – there had been no other option but to withdraw as staying would have only led to capture or death. Now he would have to mark that world as a threat to be eliminated as soon as the resources were available to do so.

    Unfortunately, with the way the civil war was going, there was no way to tell when said resources would be available. Even living gods like himself had their limits after all as even they could not predict the future, oh they could make a good, educated guess on most things based on experience but that was all they could do.

    The sound of his two surviving Jaffa, and the one human that they had been able to take prisoner, coming through the still active gate brought him out of his thoughts. He quickly composed himself into his normal, impassive mask and turned to look at them smiling ever so slightly in an evil in the way only the Goa’uld could really be as he beheld the prisoner slumped barely conscious between the two Jaffa. The human would remain weak for a good hour yet because of the voluntary neural paralysis imparted by his kara’kesh, plenty of time to get him back to the palace and make the proper preparations.

    “Bring him,” he ordered imperiously before walking in the direction of a well-guarded platform that housed the ring transporter that would, in an instant, teleport them halfway around the planet to the capital city and the palace – unlike most of his kind he didn’t like keeping the Stargate close to his capital or indeed the main settlement on any of the world’s he was the pharaoh over. The traditional practice of keeping the Stargate close had worked against him in the past and indeed had let that worm Cronus take several planets – including his original throne world – in one of the previous times they had fought one another for territory and power in traditional Goa’uld fashion.

    After that humiliation – something that had also cost him his seat on the High Council of the System Lords, a demotion that even now two and a half millennia later still rankled to the point that he had covertly supporting Sokar – he had put in place several new practices. Determined that no long would the armies of a rival Goa’uld be able to just come waltzing through the chappa’ai and have easy access to his main cities, while his modern practice could be a bit inconvenient at times it had already proven itself far better than the traditional method.

    The sound of armoured boots behind him let him know that the Jaffa were following him with their prisoner. Hades allowed himself a slight smile at that, soon he would know a bit more about the world he’d stumbled across one way or another. Hopefully, while their weapons were impressively advanced especially those lasers, they would only have a few spacecrafts, and hopefully nothing capable of matching a motherships firepower, that his fleet would be able to take down leaving the world open to being conquered.

    After about ten minutes of walking along a perfectly maintained stone road, he passed through a gate to the area where the rings were kept on a raised platform. A platform surrounded by elite guards both standing at alert and manning various heavy weapons from staff cannons to plasma repeaters and some heavier artillery pieces that when used could hurl explosive charges anywhere from a few hundred meters to – in the larger staff cannon sized pieces – several kilometres. At the sight of their god returning the Jaffa stiffened to attention.

    Hades nodded back at them, appreciating the display as he always did, before walking up onto the platform and coming to a stop where the rings would be when activated. A second later the two Jaffa and the human prisoner joined him, the Jaffa carefully placing themselves and their prisoner so they would, like him, be within the perimeter of the rings when activated. Once he was satisfied that they were all in position Hades touched one of the crystal controls on the back of his kara’kesh and activated the transport rings.

    ---///---

    Zackary Reed was quietly cursing the incredible weakness that currently gripped his body as the two aliens dragged/carried him after their leader in his elaborate gold armour. Whatever that weapon on the lead aliens’ hand was it had somehow seemingly drained all the strength out of his body making it impossible for him to offer any resistance. Not that it would have probably gotten him very far even if he did resist, he didn’t know how to operate the Stargate – hell until this afternoon he’d never seen the damned thing though he had of course heard about it given that scuttlebutt was the fastest thing in the universe even when compared to space folding – plus these guys appeared to be stronger than he was.

    He wanted to ask where they were taking him, but he didn’t feel like he could even talk. All he could do was watch as the aliens stepped up – lifting him in the process as if he weighed only a few grams and not two hundred and five pounds of mostly solid muscle – onto the platform and came to a stop in the middle of some ring-shaped thing on the floor. Now what are they going to do, he wondered as he watched Mr Gold Armour touch something on the back of the device on his one hand.

    Immediately with a whirring whooshing sound five rings – made from a dark brown metal that was very similar in appearance to the metal that the Stargate was made from – rose from the floor and stacked around the four of them. Immediately there was a flash of yellow-orange light and a sensation of moving at a tremendous speed but without physically moving, and all he saw was a shimmering curtain of white-blue energy. The yellow-orange light came again, and the curtain disappeared, with the rings retracting back into the floor…

    …to reveal that they were no long on the stone platform. Instead, they were now in a room with white and gold marble walls and floor. Zackary was stunned as he realized that they had literally been teleported somewhere else on the planet by the rings. That’s impossible, he thought knowing that outside of folding space – which they had learned the hard way you shouldn’t do inside a planetary gravity well – teleportation like Star Trek’s transporters was supposed to be impossible. Yet here it was as clear as day an example of teleportation in action. Mentally he shook his head knowing that if they were here Doctor Lang, Doctor Carter and all the other eggheads of the Robotech Research Group would be practically falling over themselves to start figuring out just how the technology worked and how they could possibly adapt it for their own use.

    “Take him to a holding cell and make sure he is prepared properly,” the alien leader ordered in that downright creepy, inhumanly distorted voice of his. “Once he has recovered enough bring him to the throne room, we will soon see if he will be accepted.”

    Accepted? Accepted for what? Zackary thought confused even as one of the guards spoke up and, in the process, identified his captor. “Yes Lord Hades,” the alien replied in a deceptively human sounding voice. Hades as in the Greek god of the underworld, he thought incredulous as the two aliens started carrying him to somewhere else in this complex – which honestly looked somewhat like how Hollywood had liked to portray Mount Olympus and the home of the Greek pantheon before Hollywood and the rest of LA was wiped off the man by a Zentraedi reflex cannon blast. Half of Southern California – including his ancestral home in a small town just outside San Francisco – had followed LA into destruction as the impact of the blast – coupled with quantum energy bleed through into the crust in the area which geologists had long likened to a pane of cracked glass – triggered the worst earthquakes on the San Andreas and Hayward faults in history causing vast landslides into the Pacific. Which – as large landslides tended to do – had spawned quite a few truly monstrous tsunamis that went on to wreck islands and coastlines around the Pacific Rim that the reflex cannons hadn’t touched.

    Putting aside those thoughts – and the now painful memories of a home that no longer existed – he wondered what the connection could be between this apparent Hades and the mythological figure. While he wasn’t a scientist by any stretch of the imagination, he had to consider the possibility that his captor could be the inspiration for the tales of the ruler of the place where the souls of the deceased resided in Greek mythology. After all, to their primitive ancestors – even the Greeks and Romans – any aliens encountered would have been regarded as gods especially if they were wielding energy weapons which along with any other advanced technology they possessed would be seen as being magic. Though what did he mean by being accepted. Accepted for what?

    Somehow, he knew it would not be good.

    ---///---

    United Earth Defence Council
    New Macross City, North America Quadrant
    Earth, That Same Time

    Grim silence reigned in the meeting chamber of the United Earth Defence Council as for the second time in as many weeks they were informed about an attack on Fort Minotaur by previously unknown hostile force. However, this time the attackers had not come from anywhere on Earth like the forces Vosegus had sent to try and capture the base long enough for him to take the Stargate, only for his attack force to be quickly overwhelmed and defeated. Instead, the attack had come from the Stargate itself with a small party of alien soldiers – in similar armour to those encountered on Linkotis though their helmets had been different and with identical staff-like plasma weapons – one in gold armour coming through from somewhere else in the galaxy.

    Much as on Linkotis the aliens had immediately proven hostile and attempted to take one of scientists prisoner only to end up exchanging heavy fire with the guards in the Stargate chamber at the time. From what General Richards and Colonel Kowalski were reporting the resulting fight had been downright brutal, and only ended when marine units armed with lasers had stormed into the room eventually forcing the aliens to retreat back to wherever they had come from – only three of them including the gold armour wearing leader escaping and two of them only because they had been holding a captive and their troops couldn’t risk hurting the helpless prisoner so they’d had to let them go.

    “Do we know who it was they abducted,” Secretary Anderson said after a few moments of considerate silence. He was not happy to learn that Fort Minotaur had again been attacked, through the gate this time, though the attack had been relatively light and quickly beaten back. “And how many dead?”

    “Six dead most of them scientists three more wounded, sir,” General Richards answered, “the person that the aliens abducted has been identified as one Sergeant Zackary Reed, and how the hell the aliens were able to disable him so completely that he couldn’t resist I don’t know as he’s one of the strongest guys on the entire base. It has something to do with a device the alien in gold had on his one hand but what that device was I have no idea.”

    “Do we know where they came from?” Admiral Gloval asked.

    “Yes, sir we do. The only operational security camera in the room – we’re still waiting for a replacement for the other to arrive from Heraklion, but it won’t get here for a while due to the storm – was pointed at the dialling device,” Richards replied. “We were able to see which symbols the aliens used and in which sequence they were pushed to activate the gate. I had them checked against a copy of the Zentraedi stellar navigation database that Minister Exedore sent us.”

    “And?”

    “The planet is located in a star system forty thousand and sixty-eight light years from here. It’s located in a completely different arm of the galaxy we cannot even see the systems parent star from Earth.”

    “So, what are we going to do about this,” Colonel Matthews asked. “We should send some people through after them.”

    “That would not be advisable colonel we would have no idea what they’d be going into,” General Markwell answered immediately. “Plus we still don’t know for certain which sequence of symbols is needed to dial Earth from anywhere else in the galaxy. Even if our people managed to survive whatever could be waiting for them on the other side of the gate, they would have no guaranteed way of easily getting home.”

    “But we cannot let this attack go unanswered nor can we leave a man in the hands of this enemy whoever they are,” Matthews objected before hesitating and everyone could see he was gathering himself up to say something. Something that he normally would not say and indeed would probably argue strenuously against.

    “I hate to say this but can the Zentraedi help,” he said at last looking like he had bitten into a particularly sour lemon as he said that, even as he looked at Exedore to address the question to him.

    Exedore looked thoughtful. “I would have to check with Commander Breetai to be sure but I believe that a number of our ships could be made available to mount an expedition to this system,” he said at last, even as he was inwardly grinning at the sight of the xenophobe being forced to ask him and his people if they could help. “It would not be many ships, as many of you are aware most of our surviving fleet currently do not have space folding capabilities due to lingering damage from the battle with Dolza and severely reduced protoculture levels.”

    “Roughly how many ships would be available Exedore?” Gloval asked.

    “Based on the last fleet status report I had I would say no more than a battlegroups worth,” Exedore answered after a few moments of thinking about it. “That would be about forty-two ships mixed between Tou Redir and Thuverl Salan classes. It would not be all of currently fold capable ships as I assume you would like to keep some here in Sol for both defence and patrol purposes. Plus, the expedition to Mars.”

    “Forty-two robotech warships might that not be a bit of overkill,” Markwell asked.

    “I thought there was no such thing as overkill. Is it not a Terran maxim that there is only open fire and I need to reload,” Exedore answered, prompting the rest of the council to all groan “What?”

    “Exedore we really need to have a talk about what is fictional and what isn’t,” Gloval replied even as he wondered who the bright spark was who had introduced the Zentraedi to the campy madness that was the pre-Rain web comic Schlock Mercenary. Probably the same bright spark who introduced them to Star Wars, he thought, whoever that was I would like to throttle them as if I am asked one more time by a micronized Zentraedi where we keep the lightsabres, I am going to go crazy. “Still forty-two ships should be more than enough. If the council approves the deployment how long would it take the ships to get ready?”

    “Between eight- and twelve-hours admiral. It would depend on how many of our ships would require resupply from stores on the factory satellite first.”

    “I would need to clear the deployment with the secretary general but I don’t see that being much of an issue,” Anderson said. “I will speak with him after this meeting is concluded.”

    “Assuming we get agreement what should our rules of engagement be,” Exedore asked.

    “Recover Sergeant Reed by any means necessary,” Anderson ordered, “then explain to these aliens, as forcefully as possible – even if that means introducing them to the business end of a particle cannon – the consequences of attacking us. But please try to limit any orbital bombardments.”

    “Understood,” Exedore acknowledged.

    “Moving on it is clear that this attack shows just how vulnerable the Stargate is at Fort Minotaur,” Anderson said. “General Markwell has there been any progress in finding a more suitable and secure home for the gate?”

    “We have identified two possible locations,” Markwell replied, “one is in the Swiss alps, it’s an old salt mine that was decommissioned years before the outbreak of the Global Civil War. A private company bought it a year or two before the Rain planning to convert it into a data centre. But the work never began and the company that owned the mine was wiped out in the Rain.”

    “That sounds like an interesting possibility,” Anderson asked. “And the other?”

    “Another mine, this one on the island of Svalbard. It’s been abandoned for decades, and the island is currently uninhabited and has been since the Global Civil War – well unless you count the polar bears.”

    “That’s also an interesting possibility especially as the harsh arctic conditions of Svalbard would be another layer of defence against any aggressor that came through the gate,” Anderson commented. Not to mention some of the wildlife like the polar bears, he thought knowing that the ice bears were an extremely dangerous predator who had killed human beings in the past. “What are your current plans general?”

    “We will be sending teams to do more in depth surveys of the two locations,” Markwell answered. “We’ll do the Swiss site first since it’s currently winter on Svalbard and the island is inaccessible due to both blizzards and the sea around it being frozen. Assessing the Svalbard site further will have to wait until after the spring thaw.”

    “Keep us appraised general.”

    “Yes sir.”

    “Now is there any more business related to the Stargate?” Anderson asked, when nobody responded he decided to move this meeting onwards. “Very well then. Let’s move onto the next items on today’s agenda. The Asgard cruiser that arrived this morning. Exedore, I believe you have some more information on the Asgard to share with us?”

    Exedore nodded and began outlining everything he had been able to discover in the Zentraedi records about the diminutive – to the point that they gave the term micronian a whole new meaning as Asgard were small even by humanoid standards – but powerful grey-skinned creatures. Creatures who even the Zentraedi’s creators the Robotech Masters treated with a healthy amount of respect.

    ---///---

    Hades Palace
    Elysium
    Goa’uld Empire
    One Hour Later


    Zackary glared quietly at the stone walls of the cell that the aliens had left him in. While he had been unable to fight back, they had removed his armour and the bodysuit worn underneath it, replacing it with a simple pair of white cotton trousers and a simple cotton top. Then they’d left him here.

    “At least I can stand up again now,” he muttered to himself, while he still felt somewhat weak at least his legs could now support him and finally seemed to respond to commands from his brain again. Which meant he had at least been able to get up off the floor and make his way onto an uncomfortable wooden cot – which barely supported his weight – and look around at the cell.

    It wasn’t much to look at, little more than a six foot by three foot rectangular box made up of stone on three sides. The entrance being blocked by a shimmering wall of energy that he wasn’t sure he really wanted to touch; he had seen enough science fiction over the years to know a force field was not something that you really wanted to touch if you could avoid it. Well unless you knew precisely what would happen if you did as you could get anything from a slight if painful zap to the field burning your skin off. Aside from the cot the only thing in the room was a simple stone squat toilet.

    The clank, clank, clank, clank sound of the armoured alien boots approaching caught his attention and he looked up in time to see the force field over the entrance vanish with an electrostatic snap. Two alien guards – all of whom appeared to be humans in that odd chainmail armour, all were wearing metal skull caps and had a black tattoo on their foreheads. A tattoo in the shape of a bident with a circle between the two prongs, which he vaguely remembered from school as being one of the Greek symbols for Hades. A third alien – in the same armour only his tattoo was gold and very pronounced, in fact it looked like it was actually made from gold that had been imbedded in his flesh – stood outside.

    “Come with us,” the third alien said firmly. Deciding not to do anything voluntarily for these guys, whoever they were, he just sat there and glared at them. The alien just raised an eyebrow at him. “Your defiance is admirable but futile,” he said after a moment, “Jaffa kree nai shar.”

    In response to the command the other two aliens went to either side of him and manhandled him upright. Zackary glared and as he had done back on Earth he attempted to fight against the two aliens but it was pointless as they didn’t seem at all bothered by his efforts. Instead they began frog marching him out of the cell into the corridor beyond – a corridor lit with flaming torches of all things. The alien with the gold symbol on his head smiled slightly, then turned and began leading them all away.

    “Where are you taking me,” Zackary demanded to know as he continued to futilely struggle against the aliens vice-like grip.

    “Lord Hades wishes to see you,” the alien answered as they continued. “You would be wise to cease resisting human it is futile.”

    “Never.”

    “Suit yourself,” the alien replied with a shrug as he led them out of the dungeon levels and into the marble-halls of the palace above. For what seemed like an age they frog marched Zackary down the corridors of this place – corridors that frankly all looked the same from his current perspective meaning he quickly became hopelessly confused as to where exactly they were – before coming to a set of elaborate wooden doors that looked honestly like something you would see in an old European cathedral.

    The alien pushed the doors open and led the way inside.

    “The prisoner my lord,” the alien said as he stood aside so Zackary could see Hades sitting on a Greek style throne on a dais at the other end of the large columned room. He had gotten changed out of the golden armour that he had been wearing earlier and was now in fine looking brown and white silks inlaid with gold though he still had that metal device over his one hand. In front of the dais on which Hades sat he could see two tables – when long like a cot – while the other was small.

    But what really caught his attention was what was on the table. There was a metal and glass tank of some kind filled with bubbling water and in it was something out of a nightmare. A serpentine creature of some kind and just the sight of it was enough to send a shiver of fear down Zackary’s spine. He did not know what that thing was but there was something in him that said that this thing was something truly evil.

    “Very good Tor’et, bring him,” Hades ordered standing up from his throne and stepping down from the dais.

    Zackary glared at Hades even as he once more tried to break free of the two aliens holding him – what had Hades and this Tor’et called them Jaffa? – only to fail as they marched/dragged him across the room to the larger of the two tables. His defiance seemed to amuse Hades who chuckled at the sight, even as he sized up his prisoner. The young human was in excellent shape, the clothing he had had provided for him perfectly accentuating the human’s impressively muscular build.

    “You do have spirit,” Hades commented, “good, good. My fleet lord likes having strong willed hosts, you are far more interesting and rewarding to break than the weak gibbering fools that normally face us.”

    Wait hosts, Zackary thought before his eyes widened in horror as he suddenly understood. These aliens – or at least Hades – weren’t aliens at all at least the part of them that he could see wasn’t alien. They were instead a host – likely a human – for a snake-like creature like the thing in the tank. A thing that they clearly wanted to put in him. Like hell, he thought and began struggling even harder, with increasing adrenaline fuelled strength.

    It did no good.

    “Impressive but futile. And I tire of it,” Hades said sounding both amused and irritated before he raised and activated his kara’kesh again, this time on the lower end of the setting to induce voluntarily neural paralysis in humans – at least those who weren’t blended with a symbiote. Immediately Zackary felt the strength leave his limbs again and he went somewhat limp in the arms of the two Jaffa holding him. “Prepare him then place him on the table.”

    “Yes, my lord,” one of the two Jaffa answered. Immobilised by the effect of the aliens hand device Zackary could do nothing to resist or escape as the one alien released him, before carefully taking off the cotton shirt he was wearing, then he grabbed him again and the two lifted him onto the table. Placing him face down. “He is ready my lord.”

    “So, I see,” Hades replied even as he rolled up the sleeve on his kara’kesh free hand. Calmly he reached into the tank that for nearly a month now had held his loyal fleet lord whose host had been fatally injured in battle with the forces of that worm Heru’ur. He just hadn’t had a suitable new host available for him until now as he wasn’t about to give Charon one of his lotaur now was he. Plus, they would be too sycophantic as hosts for Charon’s liking, as he had said to the human Charon liked having strong willed hosts to break. Calmly he picked up Charon and carried him over to the human, letting the symbiote inspect him for a few moments before the other Goa’uld looked up at him and emitted a pleased hiss.

    Smiling, he always liked this bit, Hades walked back a bit and placed Charon on the small of the humans broad back. Then he stood back to watch as the other Goa’uld slowly began to slither up the valley formed by the human’s spine towards his neck.

    The moment he felt the alien touch his skin Zackary felt terror course through him like cold electricity. It only grew worse as he could feel it slithering slowly, seemingly deliberately slowly as if it could sense and enjoyed his fear, up his back until it came to a stop right at the top of his shoulder blades. He felt the alien rear back and heard it emit a hissing sound that sounded downright gleeful…

    …then pain exploded at the back of his neck as the alien pierced his skin. He couldn’t help but scream in a mixture of pain and horror as he felt it slither underneath his skin, then begin passing through the muscles of his neck before starting to wrap itself around his spine. Another scream was drawn from his lips as a sharp pain suddenly came at the base of his skull…

    …then he felt a new presence enter his mind. A presence that immediately began pushing him back divorcing him from his own body, a presence that stunk of cruelty and malice. Instinctively he tried to fight back, to push away the intruding presence and for a moment he felt surprise from the creature then amusement.

    “Lord Hades is right you are strong willed Zackary Reed,” a distorted alien voice, Charon, said seemingly inside his head. “But you are no match for me. You are simply a human whereas I am a god. Your body is mine now and I will enjoy teaching you respect.”

    “Never I’ll never respect you parasite. And don’t give me that god crap as I can already tell your no god,”
    Zackary mentally yelled back even as he felt Charon resume his assault, he felt walls form around him pushing him right back into the deepest, remotest part of his own mind and filling the resultant void with itself. The terrifying thing was he could still see and hear everything that happened around him, but he couldn’t feel, and couldn’t control, his body at all.

    “Brave words I have heard them before from many hosts across the eons. I broke them and I will break you as well,” Charon answered sounding amused, before summarily dismissing him and sitting up and throwing his new legs off the edge of the table. He took a few moments to fully familiarise himself with this new body, testing its impressive musculature. Musculature that he knew had been improved through genetic upgrades by Zackary’s race – Terrans as they called themselves – making his host even stronger than his two hundred and five pound frame would indicate though still leagues behind the strength level of a Jaffa let alone a Goa’uld.

    “Well Charon,” Hades asked.

    “This body is acceptable Hades,” Charon replied as he turned to look at his lord, master and honestly friend as he and Hades had worked together for countless millennia and had come to trust and respect one another. As much as two Goa’uld could anyway. “Though really Hades was it necessary to leave me floating in that tank for a month? Do you know how mind numbing that tedium is?”

    “I apologise but I didn’t have a suitable host for you until now.”

    “Indeed,”
    Charon replied examining the well-muscled arms of his new host. Zackary was in excellent physical shape; indeed, he was fitter than any other host he’d had. “This body more than makes up for the delay my friend.”

    “I figured you would approve,”
    Hades replied with a smile before clapping his hands prompting a human slave to appear from behind one of the pillars. “Escort Lord Charon to his chambers, see to it that he gets the appropriate clothing and a new kara’kesh. Charon once your changed come to the war room we have much to discuss and much about the war that I need to bring you up to speed on.”

    “As you wish Hades,”
    Charon answered with a slight bow before turning and following the human slave out of the room. Hades watched him leave then clapped his hands again prompting more human slaves to appear. “Clean this up,” he ordered pointing at the two tables.

    “Yes, my lord,” the highest ranking to the slaves acknowledged before they set to work.

    “Tor’et come with me,” Hades ordered.

    “Yes my lord,” Tor’et acknowledged with a bow before falling in behind Hades as the Goa’uld System Lord began walking the familiar route to the war room. Now that Lord Charon had a new host, and thus would be able to resume his position as Lord Hades Fleet Lord, they had much work to do and many plans to make.

    Plans that though they did not yet know it would never be realized.

    ---///---

    Authors Note: Well another chapter bites the metaphorical dust I hope you all enjoyed it. Hopefully the next chapter will not be long in coming but we will have to see as I do have a few things to do in the next few weeks that might slow me down when it comes to writing. Not to mention that I do have partial chapters done for other fics that I want to complete first. Until next time.
     
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