"Begin preflight preparations," I ordered. I'd personally promised Perseus the delivery of Zeus, assuming he was alive, and so I had to oversee the operation myself. Besides, it was my plan. I was sitting in the "gate carrier"—essentially a converted Teltak, though it could almost be called a new type of ship. A completely redesigned frame, redistributed power supply, and two decks: the first was the Teltak itself, the second housed the Gate, along with improved shield and engine systems. It looked strange: it was as if an additional level, ten by ten meters and fifteen long, had been slapped onto the Teltak. I had to redesign the engines to accommodate the extra weight and check the strength of the mounts. But everything worked fine. My crew consisted of ten officers who coordinated the operation. A total of 120 gliders—ten squadrons—were participating. They, using advanced scanners, controlled each squadron, relaying information. This significantly increased the efficiency – essentially, a SIGINT ship.
"Yes, sir," I replied. In a combat situation, the word "sir" seemed too revealing. No one should have guessed the commander's location over the comms. I wasn't at the controls, of course—the crew was for that now. I'd added a command console to the teltak, displaying all the information.
Ten minutes later, a ship carrying the gate module, which was still protected by a protective shutter for safety, rose into orbit. Along with it, 120 fighters lifted off and began docking with the removable hyperdrives. They were quite large, and after docking, it felt like a huge five-by-five-meter "pimple" had sprouted from the glider's rear. An independent power source was also located there, so as not to overload the onboard systems. After confirming all docking procedures and checks, I opened a general channel.
"Tartarus, the impenetrable prison of Kronos. Today, it will go down in history, and we, those who shamed him, will be included in it. He will be ridiculed, and songs will be sung about us and legends will be told. You are flying not just to battle, you are flying into eternity. Everyone will remember your names—the names of heroes, the best, who can destroy any enemy."
"Barraaa!" - I still think the cry of the Roman legions sounds good.
We began entering hyperspace at intervals. For safety reasons, my ship went first. Using precise navigation data, I decided to exit hyperspace at a distance of five hundred thousand kilometers from the planet. After that, the attack on the satellites would begin. Now I understood how Goa'uld scanners worked, and, let's just say, they wouldn't notice so many small objects in hyperspace ─ that was the basis of the attack. Once the heavy missiles had blown the defensive satellites to hell, if problems arose, the gate could be used to finish off the remaining ones. Then would begin an orbital bombardment of the shield with missiles fired through the gate and the landing of troops in drop pods. We managed to find a planet four light-years from Tartarus that wasn't in the Goa'uld database. The planet was deserted, so the gate could be taken without any qualms.
In an hour we reached the required system.
"We are leaving hyperspace."
The hyperspace haze ended, and we found ourselves in a planetary system. At this distance, the planet was no larger than the Moon as seen from Earth, so in space battles, the scanners were the only thing to rely on, with the windows merely an added psychological benefit. We also relied on audiovisual perception to land on the planet. By now, the defense systems should have detected us and raised an alarm.
"Commence operation," the fighters appeared behind me. They were dropping their hyperdrives, leaving them for retreat. "Target assignment."
Behind me, in the Teltak's cargo bay, ten voices began to speak, distributing the necessary attack sectors among the squadrons. The gliders would cover five hundred thousand kilometers in 18 minutes. So, in 18 minutes, the satellites would be attacked. Each had several missiles, usable at ranges of up to a thousand kilometers. Meanwhile, the enemy garrison was on alert. It's such a shame their gates are blocked. Yes, they'll be able to report the attack, but help will arrive in four or five hours. And they'll also launch their gliders into space.
There are several possible outcomes: the gliders will head toward us (a very good option) or they'll take up a defensive position. I'm still betting on the defensive position, because they might think it's a trap. They're right, to be honest. Typically, in such situations, the order is to take up a reserve position behind the orbital guns and observe the enemy gliders' movements to prevent a breakthrough. They don't know that my target is the satellites.
Ten minutes passed, and I didn't see any gliders take off. It seemed the shortages were truly rampant here. I would have shot someone already if fighters hadn't been scrambled promptly 10 minutes after the enemy fleet entered the system. Only at the 13th minute did some enemy gliders begin to appear, massing behind the defense satellites, apparently waiting for the main strike. But the 12 squadrons split up, encircling the planet.
"Sir, we are being contacted," the Jaffa said.
"Concentrate the image on me," I said, putting on my helmet. A Jaffa with the symbol of Kronos appeared before me.
"This is the domain of the great Titan Kronos! Get out or be destroyed!"
"I came here for greatness, and you dare not interfere with me, you pathetic wretch! I would have executed every pilot who took off 13 minutes into the attack. You and your garrison are nothing. So I will show you how to fight, watch carefully. All squadrons are cleared to attack!"
The squadrons moved in a wide array, ensuring that each vehicle was aimed at four satellites at once. At a distance of a thousand kilometers, four missiles separated from the vehicles and ignited their engines. The ships were already traveling at high speed, and now the added speed of the missile's thrusters was added. Guidance was provided by onboard scanners. The ships immediately turned away and retreated to a safe distance, polarizing their cockpits.
Meanwhile, I was looking at the Jaffa, who was beginning to understand something. A thousand kilometers at that speed is covered in three seconds. Three seconds, and I saw flashes through the window of my ship—hundreds of explosions. They weren't so intense when I was 500,000 kilometers away. But those who were very close and unprepared… I hope the Jaffa on Kronos don't go blind.
"I still suggest we surrender. You have no orbital defense," I suggested to the garrison commander who remained in contact.
He turned off the connection.
"Unusually rude."
"We will definitely kill him," said my ship's navigator.
"Of course. I don't need any survivors; I'll destroy all evidence of my attack."
The pilot began heading toward the planet. The Teltaks were usually faster, and the gliders engaged the Kronos gliders. I don't know how it would have looked on the screen, but on the scanner, I saw my fighters perfectly pair up and dive into battle. In the first 10 seconds, 12 enemy craft were lost. Apparently, they didn't expect their defense system (which was far from cheap) to collapse so quickly. A defense system capable of stopping 5-6 Hattaks fell so quickly. But then they began to respond. A dogfight with constant maneuvering quickly ensued. Three months of training paid off: my ships quickly shot down the enemy ones. But I, too, suffered losses: gradually, my ships, too, were lost – two here, one there. Fortunately, I had installed a good ejection system, and the pilots also had air shields installed in their seats, so if a person was shot down, they could be recovered later. If, of course, the pilot survived.
"We've lost 18 aircraft. Seven of them aren't sending ejection signals," one of the officers coordinating the battle informed me.
"I hope this fight gives me the experience I need," I said irritably. These pilots were very expensive, and quite elite, since I used the instant training system on them.
"Yes, sir."
Five minutes later, only wreckage remained from the battle between the 120 and 100 gliders. They reduced their speed to allow for normal combat, as it was impossible to conduct a normal battle at 1,600,000 kilometers per hour.
"Losses: 24 vehicles. No Mayaks from the crews of 10."
"We'll pick up the survivors," I said.
The rescue operation took ten minutes. All the survivors were gathered on the lower deck, where, after the rescue, the armored bulkheads were closed and a hospital was set up. Then a bomb was dropped on Urvashi's gate, causing the gate to switch to mine. Now I have the firing system. The pilots, contacting the missile launch control, synchronize the readings and enter an orbital firing position.
"Three... two... one... Launch." A missile emerged from the gate, and the rocket engine activated, accelerating the projectile until it crashed into the prison's shield. Then another missile appeared, and so on.
Watching the methodical bombing from my ship, I realized the limitless potential of this tactic, especially with my current technology. I could launch surprise attacks, install atmosphere-preserving shields on uninhabitable planets, where no one would even look, establishing bases right under the System Lords' noses.
Missiles continued to rain down on the shield near its generator. It took over 50 missiles to penetrate it and subsequently detonate the generator.
"Get ready, everyone."
Meanwhile, on Urvashi, the gates were moved from the place where the rockets were launched, to where people were already being launched in converted rescue capsules, which had now become landing capsules.