The Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet, like a keen predator, stalked the swirling swarms of Replicators. When it became clear that brute force, embodied in physical attacks, was capable of gnawing through enemy armor, they feverishly armed their ships. Many modifications were hastily crafted, but they already sowed the seeds of victory. Rapid-fire railguns, belching projectiles, tipped the scales in favor of the Asgardian fleet. Now, for every treacherous salvo of Replicator torpedoes, the defense system responded with a barrage of fire, mercilessly tormenting the enemy, ripping apart the very fabric of their connection, like a web woven from pure intelligence.
The autonomous defense spheres, a product of the Goa'uld genius Szarekh, demonstrated their diabolical effectiveness. For him, it was merely a concept, for the Goa'uld, like primitive puppets, were ignorant of the wonders of Artificial Intelligence, much less Virtual Intelligence—luxuries available to the Asgard. The spheres, disconnected from any single link, acted like lone wolves, but their signals were invisible, like the breath of a ghost. Hidden within their wombs were generators powering automatic shotguns that spat death with dizzying rapidity. These autonomous killers, unconstrained by orders, tirelessly performed their deadly dance as long as the enemy flickered in their sights.
Thor, in his wisdom, entrusted the fateful information about the Merlin device to no one but the captains. To these trusted individuals, everything was whispered. They succeeded in weaving an invisible shield around the planet, which had become a critical point in the Replicator offensive. Through the gate, they brought a miracle—a device that enveloped the entire planet in its protective field. When the Replicator fleet, like dim shadows, arrived in the system, the planet vanished. While the enemy thrashed about, blind in the darkness, reinforcements arrived. They fell upon the Replicators like the hammer of fate, crushing their force and, with a singular, almost archaic cruelty, destroying the Asgardian ships they had once captured. The Asgardians, who had forgotten the taste of such emotions, felt a chill run through their eternal hearts.
Lord Szarekh was right; the Asgard couldn't afford to pay the price for this device. It had already saved countless lives. The device had expanded, becoming a gigantic generator, its heart beating in time with a bomb capable of ripping matter apart, reducing it to subatomic dust, lest it fall into enemy hands.
In all honesty, five Huttaks and one station were a paltry sacrifice. It didn't even slow the pace of construction of Asgardian ships, whose three months of construction seemed an eternity for such primitive vessels. Thor's small ships weren't even considered—the price for the weapon was too small, reducing the Replicators to dust, in quantities previously only dreamed of. And the Replicators, in their eternal search for new ways, showed no sign of adapting to this weapon. Their logic deemed it too primitive, unworthy of their attention, while their minds, eternally thirsty for change, couldn't comprehend adapting to a simple projectile weapon.
"The younger Lord Szarekh has exhibited behavior uncharacteristic of a Goa'uld," said Tyr, one of his officers, upon learning the full story.
"I noticed that too. His interactions with Brunhilda were far too casual," Thor replied.
"That's not the point. He betrayed his entire race by helping us."
"Goa'uld betray each other, and he makes no secret of his intention to destroy all his enemies. He just uses different methods. Despite our contact, he remains a Goa'uld," Thor countered.
"Tell yourself that," Tyr said wryly. "He's the first Goa'uld to sign a military and trade treaty with Asgard. It's an achievement that will go down in history. Six more such deals, and he'll be close to the powers of a full-fledged Lord."
"Do you think he can find something comparable to an anti-replicator weapon?" Thor asked hopefully.
"He did it twice. Three times, if you count the Ancient communications device our Principles volunteered to study. Such untraceable communications would be useful to us, and he hasn't asked for payment for it yet. Theoretically, this communications system has no limitations whatsoever," Tyr said, genuinely admiring.
"Any Ancient technology is advanced," Thor agreed. "But I'm sure the Goa'uld have simply used up their chance and won't be able to surprise us again."
"Let's do it like old times. Want to bet?" suggested Tyr.
"That's illogical. We've become a rationalistic society and are above mere gambling," Thor replied, trying to sound arrogant.
Tyr tilted his head, expressing his bewilderment.
"I was not informed about this."
"Very well, if he produces something comparable to the latest findings, I'll restore your Commander status," Thor said. The fact is, in Vanaheim, Tyr overdeveloped the local human species, thereby disrupting its natural development, for which he was demoted.
"Looks like I'll be getting my status back quickly," Tyr smiled.
"Too much faith in the Goa'uld," Thor whispered, but his words were lost in the noise of the battle unfolding in his mind.