Back onboard the PDCL, Xander was listening to the progress
of the strike teams onboard the Ha'tak cruisers. "Petey,
You're sure we can keep these ships powered down, right?"
"Right up until we install a clone node." Petey nodded.
"Torm already has control of the Command ship and the first
sweep teams are clearing it out as we speak."
"Good," Xander turned his attention back to the global
display. "What about the debris?
"We've managed to clear most of the larger debris." Petey
replied, "Unfortunately, there was too much to stop it all
without resorting to tactical weapons."
"Thousands of pieces of debris, ranging from the size of a
softball to the size of a motorcycle are going to be
raining down on the East and Middle East."
"We've sent out a warning for the path of destruction."
Petey told him. "Most of the affected regions are sparsely
inhabited to loss of life will be minimal. But..."
"But?" Xander pressed.
"When it impacts the Middle-East, we're looking at about
a loss of at least seventy percent of that area's oil
"Oh crap." Xander sighed, "Is there anything we can do to
"Short term," Petey shook his head, "No. The world economy
is going to slump for a while. Long term? We have several
improved oil extraction processes that we can 'develop'
and release in the next year. And we can 'develop' several
alternative energy sources that will make up the slack but
that may take several years before they can be implemented
"Got it," Xander sighed, "Get all of our brains on it. I
just hope some no conspiracy nut blames us for it."
"Understood." Petey replied, "SG-1 is requesting permission
to take the Kingsley to the Asgard homeworld."
"Any reason to delay them?"
"Then tell them 'Good Luck and God-speed'."
"Any other developments?"
Petey pulled up the tactical display of the Earth. "The
only concern now are the Death Glider Squadrons heading
for the planet surface."
"Squadrons?" Xander enlarged the screen, "All I see is one
big bi... Ah crap!"
"Atmospheric inference is making exact numbers difficult
to determine, but I would estimate that Anubis transferred
nearly every death gliders he could manage into the ships
invading Earth. "I would even go so far as to say that he
never intended for those Gliders to return to the invasion
fleet, sir. Win or lose, this was a one-way launch."
"This is going to be messy, isn't it?"
"Possibly," Petey replied, "We've had to deploy the fleet's
fighters as a security screen in case one of the Ha'tak
vessels manages to get its bay doors open. The surface
based Viper squadrons are enroute to intercept."
"And terapedoes would be too visible," Xander sighed,
"Pull up the main tactical again."
After studying the display, Xander smiled, "Use fighters
from the McNally to cover the Enterprise. Hood and Roger
Young. Send their squadrons down to reinforce the surface
"Transmitting orders now." Petey acknowledged.
* *** **** ******** * ******* * **
Somewhere near the middle of the Atlantic.
Major Cameron Mitchell stared in horrified shock at the
swarm of Death Gliders on his long range monitor. At his
best guess, they were outnumbered about twenty or thirty
to one. "Son of a..."
"I'd make a comment about the Alamo right now." His
Wingman, Major Matt Mason commented, "But it's not really
the right analogy."
"So what is?" Major Mitchell asked.
"The Charge of the Light Brigade."
"Now there's a cheery thought." Lt. Kara Wade replied.
"Comparing us to a suicide charge."
"No," Major Mason explained, "They're the Light Brigade.
They're so outmatched, I almost feel sorry for them."
"Then perhaps you do not require our assistance."
A heavily accented Russian voice chimed in.
"Major Ganya Ivanovich!" Major Mitchell grinned at the
sound of his Russian Counterpart's voice. "What took you so
"My apologies. Major." The Russian pilot responded,
"Our governments were concerned about where the Death
Gliders were heading and decided to wait until they were
sure of the enemy's final destination."
"The more the merrier," Major Mitchell smiled.
"I hope that includes us." Captain Ben Gannon asked as the
squadrons from the Hood and the Roger Young fell into
"And us." Lt. Shin Kazama asked as the Japanese Squadron
"All Squadrons active swarm logic." You could practically
hear the grin in Major Mitchell's voice. "Lock on targets."
Onboard each of the fighters the swarm AI activated,
linking their targeting systems together. Individual
missiles acquired their separate targets and sounded
"I've got tone." Lt. Wade announced, "Ready to fire."
"All squadrons..." Major Mitchell aborted his order to fire
as nearly a quarter of the Death Gliders suddenly began
a rapid ascent. "What the...?"
"You think they're bugging out?" Captain Gannon asked.
"Maybe," Major Mitchell replied, "Or possibly they're
responding to Teal'c's message. All right, reacquire
targets, lock up and fire."
Almost as one, every fighter opened fire, emptying their
long range missiles in one volley. The enemy fighters
were still out of visual range when the explosions
lit up the sky.
On the other side of the battle, the leader of the Death
Glider squadron barely had time to register the betrayal
of some of his forces before missiles struck. Within
moments he and nearly half of the remaining forces were
blown out of the sky. Seconds later the two forces engaged
and all hell broke loose.
The Death Glider pilots quickly realized that they were out
matched and began using desperation tactics. Major Mitchell
stared in horror as three Death Gliders rammed his
wingman's plane. There was a flash of light as the Viper's
shield overloaded then the tell tale trail of smoke
indicating the firing of the ejection module.
"Son of a bitch!" Mitchell heard, Captain Gannon growl as
he jinked his fighter to the right, narrowly avoiding
the Death Glider coming straight at him. The Death Glider
pilot chasing Gannon wasn't quite up to same skill level
and plowed right into his compatriot.
"Oh Shit!" Mitchell swore as he saw four of the enemy
closing with him from different angles. Just then another
swarm of missiles screamed into the fight and a good number
of the Death Gliders from the sky.
"What the hell?" Mitchell frowned as another fighter
squadron ripped past.
"Is that...?" Captain Gannon asked.
"I think it was..." Captain Wade nodded.'
"Well son of a ..."
"Tin man requesting permission to join the fight." A
pleasant voice informed the Vipers.
"EDI!" Lt. Purcell recognized the voice and the call sign.
"When did they let you out?"
"XWB Industries decided that additional support might prove
advantageous." EDI informed them. "And because I have been
undergoing several 'years' of training with Petey on what
is a real objective and what is an exercise in theory,
Ms. Rosenberg agreed that my release was an acceptable
"Well," Major Mitchell announced as he dodged another
suicide attack, "Whoever you are, welcome to the fight."
Major Mitchell glanced over at the new fighters just in
time to see the fighter perform a maneuver that was totally
impossible for a human to do without blacking out, even if
one considered the inertial dampeners built into *their*
fighters. For the briefest moment, Mitchell allowed himself
to be distracted trying to puzzle out just what 'tinman'
was. That distraction was all several Death Glider pilots
needed to force the Major into a collision course. He felt
the tell-tale shift in g-forces as the ejection module
separated from his fighter and breathed a sigh of relief
as the back up inertial dampeners kicked in.
His relief was short-lived as another squad of Death
Gliders began firing on him. There was a shudder as the
main landing systems failed and the Module deployed a
backup chute. He was just about to say his final prayers
when one of the new fighters knocked the enemy squadron
out of the sky.
"Oh shit." Major Mitchell swore as the nearby explosions
caused the backups to fail. As the module began
freefalling, he quickly calculated the maximum shock force
that his flight suit's inertics could handle and started
hammering on the inside of the cockpit canopy. He managed
to get it open just in time to see the ground rushing
up to meet him. "This is going to hurt."
Sergeant Ben Storm frowned as his team made their way
through the corridors of the Ha'tak Class Mothership.
For the first hour or so of the mission they'd encountered
heavy resistance. Then all of a sudden nothing, not even
a Jaffa yelling insults. As they entered what should have
been the secondary control room, he saw several large
containers sitting in the center of the room.
"Ah shit!" He swore as he suddenly remembered Murphy's
rule about the easy way. "Clear out!!!"
The team managed to get exactly five feet down the corridor
before the blast from the bombs caught them. The last
thing Sgt. Storm felt was a searing pain across his back
before the darkness.
Onboard the PDCL, Xander Harris was listening in horror
to the reports coming in from both the battle and the
"Petey, how bad is this?"
"Not as bad as it seems at first glance." Petey replied,
"We've had only six confirmed fatalities, two pilots.
Their ejection modules were shot down by the enemy and they
didn't manage to get out in time. And four assault team
members. they were at ground zero when a bomb went off"
"Son of a..." Xander cut himself off "What about other
"The regular medical teams are handling the minor injuries
and the "magic Cryokits" are being used to take care of the
"So why do all of the reports mention nanniebags and the
"The Jaffa that have refused to surrender have begun using
suicide tactics to take as many of our men with them as
possible." Petey explained, "The explosives they have
access to aren't powerful enough to destroy our people's
battlearmor unless they're right next to blast, but they
can breach the armor. And unfortunately..."
"Anything that can breach the armor is likely to cause
major trauma." Xander understood. "So there have been a lot
of serious injuries?"
"In the last hour," Petey reported, "We've taken control
of forty-seven point five percent of the ships and suffered
twenty one point three percent personnel losses to
injuries. We're transferring the injured to the medical
bays and using the regular cryokits and nanny-bags
to keep them in stasis until they can be treated. As
amputations can be dealt with by regrowing the severed
limbs, I am currently classifying them as serious but not
fatal, moving them to a less urgent status, medically
"The regular medical bays are being overloaded."
Xander frowned, vague memories of watching various war
documentaries rose to the surface of the young man's mind
and he remembered something that might work. "We need
dedicated hospital ships. Petey is there any..."
"I can modify the base superstructure of the current batch
of BC-303's to accommodate a full hospital." Petey replied.
"There are four of them right?" Xander remembered something
from the military records Petey had given him months
"Yes." Petey thought about the way Xander asked the
question and quickly found the reason. "I think I know what
you want to name them. They would the perfect names for the
"How long before they're ready to launch?"
"Good," Xander's lips curled up a little, "They've got priority.
Oh! And Petey? During the after-action reports, I want to
see a follow-up on the Jaffa who fired on downed pilots.
I'd like to have a long talk with them."
"Understood." Petey acknowledged, "Although given the lack
of ejection systems in the Death Glider design... I don't
believe there will be many enemy pilots taken alive."
"Well, keep track of them anyway."
End Part 54