Isaac Asimov
Alba Longa
Alba Longan Solar System
Milky Way Galaxy
On the world of Alba Longa, life was good. A dream, so long harbored by the inhabitants of this world, had defied the odds and become reality. That dream, a simple dream, was to be reunited with Earth, and to finally find Rome. In the days, weeks, and months since this dream became the new reality, a new feeling of what the future could hold quickly spread.
While the distances and methods available to the people of this world limited their access to Earth, the planet of their ancestors birth was quickly becoming well known. Economically, Alba Longa and Earth were now intertwined. Free trade agreements, signed in the same stroke of the pen as the official military alliance, brought a near constant stream of cargo vessels. These vessels carried with them all matter of products, which the Alba Longan public happily purchased in great quantity.
The sun, having risen four hours earlier, shone down upon the picturesque landscape of Alba Longa. In the modern cityscape, sunlight gleamed from tall glass clad towers. In the more ancient portions of the inner city, sunlight illuminated the purple veined marble of edifice built long ago. Going about their day, as they had done for two millennia, the Alba Longan public had little reason to believe that this day was one of reckoning.
In orbit, the vessels Corfinium, Arsinoe, and Tarquinii stood guard. Further out, and well away from Alba Longa, the three vessels Aquila, Ravenna, and Ostia similarly stood guard, while conducting exercises. The remaining two vessels of the Alba Longan fleet were elsewhere, having been deployed to the allied world of Tollana. Sensors aboard the six vessels present within the solar system, in unison, detected nearly one hundred hyperspace window's opening between the two groups.
From this writhing mass of now open hyperspace windows, a fearsome collection of warships emerged. Ha'tak's, one hundred and twenty-five in number, now sat within the home space of Alba Longa. Frantically, each Alba Longan battle cruiser reported this development directly to Fleet Command. Arrogantly dismissive of the diminutive Alba Longan fleet present, the Lucian Alliance attack fleet paid little heed to the defenders standing between them and their target.
On the surface of Alba Longa, within the boundaries of the old city, Consul Fulvious Flavius was seated in his office. Having returned to his office after the day's session of the Senate, the Consul attended to all manner of paperwork. Lost in thought, the Consul weighed the pros and cons of a new construction program put forth by the Senate. So filled was his mind by the matter, that he failed to take notice of Primus Imperator Appius Mucius Plautus as the Senior Legion commander burst through the door.
"Consul, gather your things quickly. You must be evacuated to below ground." The Primus Imperator began urgently.
"What is the meaning of this?" Fulvious Flavius demanded.
"A Lucian Alliance fleet has arrived in our solar system. Hannibal is now at the gates." Appius Mucius explained.
"What of our fleet?" The Consul asked naively.
"Greatly outnumbered. Those boys will purchase the time our people need with their lives." Appius Mucius said with a hint of sorrow.
"Initiate Elysium. We must get our people underground. We must also send word to Earth. They must know what is transpiring." The Consul instructed.
"I gave that order before coming for you. Now, we must hurry!" The Primus Imperator instructed.
As the two men raced towards stairs that would carry them far beneath the Curia, sounds from temples built long ago rang throughout the Alba Longan countryside. Contained within these temples were large bells, cast long ago. Never before had the inhabitants of Alba Longa heard this bells sound. Deep gonging rang out. Simultaneously, public alert systems sounded within the more modern cityscape. All on Alba Longa knew what these warnings meant. War had arrived at the heart of modern Roman society.
Within office buildings, schools, and apartment buildings, inhabitants dropped whatever they were doing. For generations, Alba Longa had trained for this very moment. Moving with order and speed, Alba Longan's descended staircases that traveled through bedrock. Far underground sat Elysium. Named for the mythical afterlife of Roman lore, Elysium was the large series of subterranean shelters built to safeguard all Alba Longans. Abutting many of the Elysium shelters were similar structures meant for Legion use.
While the Alba Longan public descended into their subterranean areas of salvation, events were quickly unfolding elsewhere. At the base of several mountains ringing the capital, large armored doors slowly opened. Contained within this caverns were the hundreds of fighters stationed on alert. These two man craft, based on the Goa'uld death glider, were dark in color. Like locusts, these leather small craft rose into the air, and raced into the upper reaches of the planet's atmosphere. In other bunkers, highly trained units of the Alba Longan Legion stood ready to repel any ground force that might dare to step foot on this world.
Were one to look down on the settlements and cities of this planet, they would quickly take note of an abundance of large open squares. These forums, modeled on those of Rome, were home to markets, gatherings, and public activities. Standing proudly at the center of each forum was a tall stone needle, known as an obelisk. Hundreds of these obelisks could be seen. Unknown to the Lucian Alliance Fleet approaching, these obelisks were not simply decorative.
Power conduits, running to each, supplied the energy needed for these. This power, coming directly from a large and untapped vein of naquadah far below, would aid in the defense of this world. Each of these one hundred foot tall obelisks began to vibrate, as their platforms began to rise. As they slowly rose, each obelisk split, opening like the petals of a flower. In the center remained a powerful energy cannon. Power began to arc between the four petals of this lethal power, energizing the center mounted cannon. By the time the fighters reached orbit, the energy weapon defensive grid was powered and ready. In the background of this surreal setting, the ancient bells of war continued to fill the air with their ominous message of warning.
Moving slowly, certain of their advantage in this battle, the Lucian Alliance inched closer to Alba Longa. Onboard the bevy of Ha'tak's, weapons were brought online. In fifteen minutes, this attack force would reach their firing position, and begin their orbital bombardment. To the front and rear of this attacking force, the two Alba Longan groups of BC-303's formed into chevron formation. As they repositioned, these six vessels powered shields and readied weapons systems.
During their construction, these vessels were overseen and modified to great extent by engineers from both Alba Longa, and Tollana. On the four sides of each 303's fuselage, a single large energy weapon rose from its cradle into firing position. These weapons, originally conceived by Tollan engineers, and later refined further, were the latest examples of the Tollan ion canon. Power from primary and secondary systems flowed into these weapons, as the two formations accelerated towards the invaders.
Gliders, now in orbit, broke into two long streams. Breaking left and right, the two long streams of small craft aimed themselves at the peripheries of the approaching fleet. One of these streams fell in behind the 303 chevron accelerating away from the planet. The other would join up with its chevron, after the outermost collection of 303's overtook the Lucian Alliance group, and made its initial attack run.
For reasons the 303 commanders could not fathom to guess, the Lucian Alliance attack fleet refused to focus their attention on them. This development ran counter to everything the Alba Longan commanders had been trained to expect. Still, it worked in their favor. Every moment the 303's lived meant another moment that Alba Longa was protected. Running at full sub-light speed, the two chevrons of defenders closed on opposite extremes of the Lucian Alliance battle line.
Charging towards the Lucian Alliance fleet, the individual chevrons of 303's opted for maximum firepower. While the Tollan ion cannons could be independently targets, each 303 instead opted to fire their four individual cannons on a single target apiece. On the right flank of the Lucian Alliance fleet, three Ha'tak's violently exploded, with the same outcome seen on the left flank. Driving as fast as their sub-light engines could propel them, the two groups of small vessels tore their way into the invaders fleet. Much like the battle of David and Goliath, the Alba Longan fleet engaged in a near suicidal contest to defend their world.
As the wreckage from the six destroyed scattered, the Lucian Alliance fleet opened fire with every weapons in their possession. Each of these incredibly powerful weapons of terror had but one target; Alba Longa. Screaming down from orbit, hundreds of destructive orange pockets of energy slammed into cities on the planet's surface. Buildings crumbled, as fires took hold. The work of countless generations was soon consumed in a conflagration of fire and death. Weapons fire continued to rain down on the cities both old and new, as individual fires combined into a hellish firestorm unlike any before seen on this planet. Each structure that fell represented the Roman soul of this world being torn asunder. Were it not for their engineering prowess, foresight, and labor of generations to construct Elysium, all below would have already perished.
As the cities burned, the network of defensive cannons in the open forums opened fire. Matching the move of the attackers, Alba Longa unleashed hundreds of highly destructive orbs of energy, much like the Ha'tak's weapons fire, at the enemy. While the Fleet and small craft were focused on the Lucian Alliance flanks, this torrent of ground to space weapons fire focused on the center body of the attacking fleet. Individual hits did nothing to harm an attacking craft, but when multiple hits were received, Ha'tak's began to erupt in vicious explosions.
Following the 303's leading the charge, Alba Longan Glider's fired indiscriminately. Lacking the firepower of the larger vessels, these small Glider's focused on harassing the attackers, and pouncing on any attacking vessel's with their shields offline. Lucian Alliance ship commanders, refusing to allow further attacks, shifted their weapons fire to the three 303's tearing through the right flank. Making their turn, to tear through the Lucian Alliance bodily once more, Corfinium, Arsinoe, and Tarquinii reoriented themselves.
Looping around, the three vessels charged forward. In concert, the three vessels opened fire on individual targets. Two of the targeted Ha'tak's vanished in pillars of flame, while the third saw its shields falter and fail. As those shields fell, Tarquinii was pummeled by crippling volumes of weapons fire in return. First, her shields fell, followed by weapons fire tearing through her hull. Tarquinii was breathing her last gasp, and was all too aware. Breaking away from her two sisters, Tarquinii's crew aimed themselves at the defenseless Ha'tak. Colliding at incredible speed, both the Tarquinii and Ha'tak exited life together.
On the left flank, things were far worse. Of the trio of Aquila, Ravenna, and Ostia, only Aquila remained operational. Ravenna and Ostia, crippled by Ha'tak weapons fire, now drifted without power. Atmosphere leaked from the many hull breaches present on both vessels. Their crew, refusing to let their fight end there, did the unexpected. Instead of focusing on restoring their vessels ability to fight on, the crews of Ravenna and Ostia armed themselves, and took to the transport rings. These rings, designed to carry their user to the nearest set of receiving transport rings, took these enraged Alba Longan's to the enemies doorsteps. In minutes, these boarding parties were entrenched in a vicious running gun battle aboard several Ha'tak's.
Obelisk weapons fire from the ground below continued to pummel the main body of the Lucian Alliance Fleet. Numbers of operational obelisk weapons batteries dwindled by the minute. Slowly, the tide of this battle was turning forever in favor of the Lucian Alliance. A miracle was needed, but no miracle was to be found. Legion ground commanders, waiting for the order to engage invading ground forces, knew that order could come at any moment.
Realizing that their sole hope was strength in numbers, Aquila, Corfinium, and Arsinoe joined together at the rear of the Lucian Alliance attack force. Fighting with renewed vigor, the three vessel chevron formation savaged their way through the attackers flanks. In the process, each of these three vessels came under intense weapons fire. One by one, their shields fell. Further weapons fire crippled each of the three, but did not deliver a final death blow. The overall Lucian Alliance commander, watching how this race fought, felt a sense of respect for the display of martial ability put forth. These three crews would make fine additions to the Lucian Alliance Fleet in time, and for that reason, they would be allowed to live. Watching as the three crippled 303's moved to stand between the Lucian Alliance Fleet and Alba Longa, the fleet commander opened a communications channel.
"Your vessels are crippled, and your world is ablaze. Why do you continue to fight?" Vosh asked honestly.
Caius Livius Megellus, commanding officer of Aquila, decided he would speak for what remained of the Alba Longan Fleet. Straightening his uniform, while wiping blood from his temple, the senior ship commander opened a communications channel of his own to reply.
"You can burn our cities and fields. We will rebuild. The idea that is Rome will never be conquered by the likes of you. If we fall today, Earth will avenge their brothers and sisters. All you have done is seal your fate." Caius Livius Megellus warned.
"Is that so? How will Earth avenge you while their planet also burns?" Vosh asked maliciously.
Watching the image of the Vosh closely, Caius Livius Megellus took notice of first a surprised expression, which quickly turned to a look of horror. Vosh, slowly backing away, looked ashen. As this transpired, detection of a dozen hyperspace windows opening above Alba Longa's northern pole were reported. Through the view ports on the bridge, a vessel dwarfing Aquila passed above the stricken vessel. That vessel was USS Prometheus.
Flanking Prometheus were eight Athena Class heavy cruisers, to either side of the super carrier. Power surged through the outer hull plating of Prometheus, in incredible rippling waves. Opening fire with weapons of their own, ten Athena's blasted their way into the flanks of the Lucian Alliance fleet. Their mission was not one of domination, but of rescue. Locking on to locator beacons of all Alba Longan military personnel in orbit, the Athena's whisked the assorted ships crews, boarding parties, and pilots to safety. Engaging their sub-light drives to maximum, the Athena's latched on to the crippled and adrift 303's remaining.
On the bridge of Prometheus, the crew was fast at work for the evolution to come. Watching them silently Captain Samson Fisk silently gave each of the bridge crew praise. In another part of his mind, he chastised himself, aware that he was using a carrier in a manner entirely counter to doctrine.
"Sir, the main weapon is powered and ready." The weapons officer called out quickly.
"We've never tested this thing in combat. Let's hope the Furling weapon works as advertised. Target center body of the enemy fleet and open fire!" Fisk ordered cooly.
Pulsating waves of power, rippling across the hull of USS Prometheus, intensified. As power levels climbed even further, a low wailing sound took hold within the carrier. This wail quickly grew in intensity to a scream. As the screaming sound reached a crescendo, the Furling weapon discharged. For this weapon, the entire hull of Prometheus was its barrel. From the nose of the mighty ship, a great cone of purple and blue energy erupted. Expanding as it traveled, this cone passed through and enveloped the center body of the Lucian Alliance formation.
In each vessel trapped within the energetic field, a simultaneous series of events transpired. Incredible oscillations, at the molecular level, reached specific resonant frequencies, unlocking stored potential energy, and kinetic energy. Dynamic oscillation took hold a microsecond later. Each individual molecule contained within the vessels targeted fell under assault. These molecules simultaneously superheated to temperatures nearing that of the surface of a sun, while cooling to near absolute zero. As these individual molecules expanded and contracted, each was torn apart.
The vessels targeted did not explode, so much as they were reduced to small and unrecognizable particle debris. In seconds, the heart of the Lucian Alliance attack fleet was no more.
Seeing this, those surviving Lucian Alliance vessels remaining, opted to run while they could. One hundred and twenty-five Ha'tak's had arrived, but only forty would escape. Ready to deliver a second strike if needed, Prometheus stood ready. Beneath her, underneath smoke blackened skies, seventy percent of all structures on the planet's surface burned. Alba Longa had been dealt a severe blow, but her people still stood. In time, these children of Rome would rebuild. Before that time came, all Alba Longa would rally around the cry for war.
Earth
Sol Solar System
Milky Way Galaxy
For over a decade, the Lucian Alliance operatives secreted to Earth had waited. Many times during this long period of waiting, these operatives thought the day of their activation might never come. Despite this thought, each of these operatives continued to plan, recruit, research, and rehearse. As they aged, each of these operatives continued to work their way deeper into life on this world, and into positions of importance for the overall plan. That plan, which had changed many times, would finally be used.
When they had arrived, these agents arrived not penniless. Aware of the commercial nature of Earth, a number of larges crates were also secreted to Earth. In these crates was several hundred pounds of gold. This gold, scavenged from the ornate hallways of Ha'tak's inherited from the Goa'uld, was put to good use. Over time, this gold was sold to several dozen gold brokers. Wisely invested, these starter funds soon grew into much larger sums of cash. It was this war chest of funds that made the coming events, and manpower recruited, possible. As Earth's economy grew, so did the funds available to those that sought to harm Earth.
Upon receipt of the signal from Kefflin, all subspace communications gear was destroyed, as it would no longer be needed. The activation signal soon found its way to each operative, and action cell. Using a popular fan fiction website, the prearranged signal was passed. Receiving an email alert, each operative learned to initiate operations in thirty-six hours, by way of a story being added from an author added as a favorite. Each quickly sprang into action, and moved to their jumping off points, which were many. These alerted operatives further passed signals to those recruited to play a role in the overall plan.
Earth, as each agent had learned, is a planet of differences. In some instances, these differences can define an individual. In others, these differences provided the siren song of a call to action. It was these many and varied differences that the Lucian Alliance exploited. In some cases, the differences exploited were political and financial. In other cases, the differences exploited were religious. The politics and beliefs of those recruited mattered little to the recruiting agents, so long as these recruits helped bring Earth to its knees. Using the Tau'ri as a weapon meant to bring about the downfall of the Tau'ri was amusingly ironic to each operative.
The coming attack, while being waged in locations scattered across Earth, hinged on timing. In human history, warfare has always been an art entirely dependent on timing. When timing is synchronized, the enemy can be easily overwhelmed. When timing is less than well meshed, entire wars can be lost due to a single battlefield failure. Having studied the history of warfare on Earth closely, the matter of timing was one the Lucian Alliance operatives took seriously.
It all began in Asia. At three in the afternoon, within the Korea Stock Exchange, another day of furious trading was nearing an end. Ranked number fourteen in the top twenty stock exchanges globally, the Korea Exchange was a cornerstone the world economy. Within these hallways, nearly two and a half trillion dollars of wealth passed in and out. Since reunification, the economy of Unified Korea had grown by leaps and bounds. Reunification brought with it the bull market of many investors dreams.
Twenty-four hours earlier, a six man team of Korean's arrived in Seoul. Having the proper documentation, these six men passed through customs with little fanfare. Had customs realized that the passports these men were using were extremely high quality forgeries, the greeting might have been far different. The only thing worthy of note about these six Korean men was their extreme level of physical fitness.
That extreme level of physical fitness was a byproduct of a lifetime of training. Each of these men were finished examples of the former North Korean Special Forces program. Orphans all, these men were raised by the state, for use by the state, and sworn to defend the State. When Kim Jong Un assumed power, select direct action units of the Korean People's Army saw the writing on the wall. Instead of remaining true to the Juche ideals fostered by the Great Leader and Dear Leader, Kim Jong Un sought appeasement and surrender to the capitalist West.
Aware of their unique skill set, these direct action units fled North Korea before reunification began. Their mission was to fight on, and punish the West for bringing down the glorious kingdom the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. With them, they took certain assets of great value, and the knowledge of prepositioned stockpiles in several countries. It was shortly after their departure that a Lucian Alliance operative crossed their path. In this operative, whom they believed to be South African, they saw a kindred spirit, dedicated to Juche ideals and the punishment of the West. When the operative outlined his needs for a devastating strike, the North Korean commandos were happy to inform him of what they could do to make his dream a reality. In return, their South African benefactor provided funding.
In the decades following the Korean War, North Korea studiously prepared for a second round that never came. Some of these preparations were massive, in the form of large tunnels running beneath the demilitarized zone, which were later discovered by South Korean forces. What was not located were the numerous storehouses filled with munitions, for use by North Korean Special Forces within South Korean borders. It was to one of these storehouses that the six men made their way to.
Upon their arrival at the storehouse in an industrial area outside of Seoul, in a warehouse belonging to a nameless offshore corporation, two of the men busied themselves preparing their cargo. The remaining four men went about procuring the two vehicles required for the mission they had trained for all their lives. Fiercely loyal, these six men had no qualms with the fact that this mission would cost them their lives. Their lives in exchange for dealing a debilitating blow to the West was a fair trade in the eyes of these men.
Returning with two large panel vans, the four men took on the next and most important task. Over a series of hours, the four men filled their panel vans with hundreds of individual blocks of PETN high explosive, for a total of seven thousand pounds per vehicle. PETN had been selected as the explosive of choice for pre-positioning by the Korean People's Army due to its stability, long shelf life, and difficulty in detection by chemical sniffers. While rigging a trigger in the cab of each vehicle, the men wondered if their comrades in Tokyo were now going through the same steps. Once their task was completed, all six men settled in for a final meal, and openly pondered the damage they would do to those who had brought an end to their nation, and way of life.
In the late afternoon, all six men boarded their vehicles. Locking down the storehouse, the men in both vehicles through themselves headlong into the fray of Seoul afternoon traffic. Weaving in and out of traffic buzzing through the Seoul metroplex, the men paid close attention to their watches. Their strike needed to take place near the end of the trading day, to ensure maximum impact on world markets.
Six blocks from the Korean exchange, both vehicles pulled off the road. In the rear of both panel vans, the men checked and rechecked their wiring setup. During this time, the detonators in the cab were primed, and made ready. Checking their watches once more, all six men realized the time to go was now.
Starting their vehicles and putting them in gear, the men maneuvered their vehicles back onto the roadway. Driving passively for five blocks, the men steeled themselves for the end. They did this for a nation that no longer existed; they did this for the memory of the Great Leader; they did this in thanks for an upbringing filled with the truth that was Juche. Their target, the Korean Exchange, coming into view, both vans turned in different directions.
From the east came one van, while the other came from the west. Accelerating rapidly, both vans tore through traffic towards the Korean Exchange. Instead of turning with the flow of traffic, both vans bounced over small curbs, over sidewalks and shrubbery. Much of Seoul had already been rebuilt in the form of cities all over the world, but not the Korean Exchange. Its reconstruction was scheduled for next month. Crashing through the glass porticos on either end of the large building, both vans tore into the inner sanctum of the Korean stock market. A second later, amid victorious cries, the men within these wagons of death depressed their detonators.
Detonating within half a second of each other, a total of fourteen thousand pounds of PETN exploded. A wave of fire swept through the exchange, incinerating those closing their day's trading. For eight blocks in all directions windows shattered, filling the streets with debris. Adding to the hellish seen, as smoke and fire filled the air, the Korean Exchange collapsed. Alongside the Exchange's collapse, buildings standing beside it also collapsed to varying degrees. The overall scene was hellish, and a nightmare come to life.
In an age of global communications, word of this soon crisscrossed the globe. Twitter was abuzz with impromptu reports from civilians near the scene of the attack. Global markets, reacting to this, began to plummet. Minutes later, secondary reports of a similar attack in Tokyo added to the panic felt in the financial world. In response, world markets began to nosedive. Seeing this market fluctuation, high frequency trading algorithms, used by trading houses globally, joined into the sell off. Unlike a recession, these two combined events set off a financial panic across the globe. While the loss of the Korea Exchange would have resulted in a global financial downturn, the loss of the number three ranked Exchange in Tokyo risked a global financial meltdown. Each passing minute show billions of dollars invested evaporate. For the cost of twelve lives and the airfare to relocate these men to the counties containing their targets, a larger financial toll had been inflicted upon Earth than in any previous war in human history.
What few understand, is that the stock trade lives not at the mercy of quarterly earnings. Instead, the markets' success or failure hinges on psychology. The destruction of two major exchanges within minutes of each other dictated what that group psychology would be, and that was panic. Only one saving grace was present, and that was the fact that the largest exchange in New York had not yet begun its day. Still, repercussions were being felt in European exchanges.
Elsewhere on Earth
Ninety Minutes Later
During the long recruitment effort of Lucian Alliance operative on Earth, a long list of operatives was developed. While those with military training were preferred, those without could also serve a purpose. Accepting this fact, and marveling at the near limitless numbers of malcontents scattered across Earth, the Lucian Alliance operatives recruited across the spectrum.
Tailoring their approach to the philosophy of those in their recruiting sights, the Lucian Alliance operatives put on a fresh face for each approach. For those belonging to the Westboro Baptist Church, appeals were made to radical interpretations of Christianity. The Westboro Baptist Church proved a fruitful hunting ground of recruitment, due to their zeal and off kilter thinking. Any group that the Ku Klux Klan actively distances themselves from is clearly on a whole other level of fringe. To this volatile mix, elements from militia's and separatist movements were added.
As what was planned could not be construed as anything else but terrorism, the Lucian Alliance operatives next focused their efforts on recruiting those familiar with acts of terror. Working their way through environmental groups, recruiting operatives soon established contact with elements of the Earth Liberation Front. Then, other listed terrorist organizations found in publicly available documents from the US Department of Justice were tracked down, and recruited as well. This recruitment was not wholesale, but simply a core group of ultra radical true believers. In under three years, the Lucian Alliance had at their disposal several thousand fighters scattered across each continent. In nations where numbers were low, criminal elements were recruited for service at a time and place of the Lucian Alliance's choosing.
In the history of humankind on Earth, a number of inventions and innovations ranked as true game changing developments. During the twentieth century, many believed that nuclear weapons and nuclear power were the single most significant innovation found in that one hundred year period. While game changing, the advent of nuclear weapons and nuclear power paled in comparison to the changes brought about by another development; the internet.
That development stood as the single largest development in the history of man on Earth. Bringing the world together, all Earth was interlinked together. At the touch of a button, medical records, financial transactions, or GIF's of kittens could be shared between differing corners of the globe. Spanning the world, the internet was not a single network, but instead a network of networks. Many considered the internet unbreakable, but they were wrong.
Using the tool they sought to destroy, to find the information needed to destroy it, the Lucian Alliance operatives once again turned to public records. Amazed that this information was open to the public, these operatives ascertained the locations of the hardware that is the backbone of the net.
Relying on subsurface ocean crossing cables to interconnect national networks into a global web, the connective tissue of the internet could be found at one hundred and fifty one separate sites on six continents. These subsurface cables were not guarded, or even camouflaged. In most locations, these cables rose from sea's and oceans on popular beaches, escaping the notice of tourists, surfers, and other beach goers.
Across North America, South America, Europe, Asia, and Australia, several hundred of those recruited by the Lucian Alliance were in place. Divided into two individuals per target, these insurgents were not armed in the way one might expect. Casting aside explosives and firearms, the traditional tools of an insurgent, these two person groups carried only axes and collapsible shovels, concealed in duffle bags. These tools, purchased for the task, were all these groups would need to accomplish their mission.
The team assigned the task of severing the transatlantic cable coming aground on Mastic Beach in Long Island, New York, was in high spirits. Having enjoyed a fantastic dinner in New York before making their way to Long Island, the two maladjusted men were overjoyed to finally do their part to bring about an end to Satan's tool of the internet. Consulting a handheld global positioning system receiver, the two quickly crossed the empty beach, and reached the exposed cable. Abnormal tides had left the thick cable exposed for all the world to see.
Donning insulated gloves, one of the two men removed the necessary from the teams duffle bag. Once the axe was free from the duffle bag, the man went a step further and removed the sheath covering the axe's blade. A cool ocean breeze, accented by sharp salt air, washed over Mastic Beach. In the eyes of the two men, both lifelong members of Westboro Baptist Church, this was a sign from God. Yes, the Lord wished for his agents to lash out at the tools of Satan.
Drawing back, the man wielding the axe took the first blow. Coming down hard on the slick polycarbonate outer sleeve, the axe blade pierced, but did not cleave through the protective shell. In total, six more swings of the axe were needed to pierce the cables protective covering. Once through, a torso thick bundle of fiberoptic cables was exposed for both men to see. His vigor renewed, the man with the axe continued to swing away. Unknown to this man, the severing of this cable, which linked financial markets in New York with those in Europe, he had just dealt the third blow to word financial markets.
Across the globe, as these two man teams completed their task, man's largest machine ground to a halt. Emails destined for recipients in other nations were rendered undeliverable. Cross continent electronic commerce ceased. While the internet still existed, it was no longer global. Now, it was relegated to a series of digital islands, cut off from other digital islands that had once formed together into the net Earth took for granted.
Had more manpower been available to the Lucian Alliance, their next target would have been root servers. If the root servers had been targeted, the system used to translate domain names into numerical IP addresses, would have been destroyed. While disappointing, it was simply not realistic to overextend themselves to even make the attempt. Instead, the focused on the last remaining piece of the internet that many took for granted.
The Lucian Alliance war on the internet was not over. One last step remained, and this step, once taken, would cause more harm than even the severing of ocean crossing cables. At two targets in New York City, one in Los Angeles, two in London, two in Paris, and one each in Miami and Palo Alto, the bulk of recruited agents were working towards achieving their own goals. Each of these nine targets were nondescript buildings. Contained within these buildings were the worlds largest data centers. These sites also served as public internet exchanges, were internet service providers met in a hub.
Inside these buildings, lights were seldom on. Kept cold, as computer hardware operates far better at lower temperatures, these buildings were also sparsely manned. Filling the spaces of these buildings was an army of servers. These servers hosted many of the websites people browsed daily, their email, and often photographs stored online. Take these servers out, and you remove a large portion of the content filling the digital domain.
During the course of the attacks on these facilities, seven fell. In those that fell, servers were destroyed wholesale, taking with them all that they held. Backups existed, but would do little good until the internet as a whole could be made whole once again. The two facilities that survived were the two located in London. British gun laws were the preventive measure that was most effect. Still, two of nine facilities surviving was a hollow victory by any measure.
Using a widely dispersed gang of individuals, many ill suited to the task, the Lucian Alliance had accomplished what many believed impossible. The internet linking continents, wounded on many levels, was silent for the first time since its inception.
Blue Grass Army Depot
Kentucky
Earth
Roughly fifty miles southeast of Lexington, Blue Grass Army Depot was a unique military installation. Instead of training and housing combat and combat support personnel, Blue Stone Army Depot filled other roles. After numerous rounds of base realignment and closure, functions from other installations were brought to Blue Grass. Primarily, this installation served as an armament storage facility. After new functions were relocated here, Major systems repair and depot level maintenance of ground and aviation assets was now conducted here. While these tasks were important, they were far from the most critical task conducted at Blue Grass. On the far corner of the facility, tucked away amid light tree cover, sat the Blue Grass Chemical Agent Destruction Plant. Though the United States chemical arsenal had been fully destroyed several years earlier, this Plant still fulfilled its designed function.
Following the global initiative to forever eliminate the stockpiles of chemical weapons held by all nations, Blue Grass began to accept the first shipments from across the globe. Using an innovative system far different from traditional, and some would argue dangerous incineration, an average of five tons of chemical agent was destroyed per week. At that rate, the remainder of world stockpiles would be eliminated within five years.
Troy Phillips, the facilities operations manager, sat in his office. Frankly, Troy was a man who loved his job. He loved it not only for the sense of accomplishment it gave him, but for the access it provided him. Troy's coworkers knew him as an effective manager, and as someone who proudly proclaimed themselves Kentucky born and bred. What none knew, was that Troy Phillips was a sleeper agent of the Lucian Alliance.
Troy's level of access to major systems and munitions within the boundaries of Blue Grass Army Depot gave him considerable leeway in how he would lash out at Earth. Originally, Troy had planned to make use of the large stockpiles of munitions stored here. Then, fate smiled on Troy. Large scale relocation of chemical weapons stockpiles opened up an entire new world of options. His task was to ensure maximum damage to Earth and her people, and this new option greatly enhanced Troy's ability to meet those goals.
When the orders to launch the attack on Earth came, Troy stood ready. Months before, he had studiously laid the groundwork that would now come into play. Known as a hands on manager, during his months of preparation, none thought it odd as Troy visited workshops all over the installation. As a man who often worked long into the night, none gave a second thought of him laboring away at tasks they knew nothing about.
Late in the day, the day before, Troy took the final administrative step necessary for his plan to succeed. Alerting Pine Bluff Arsenal in Arkansas to a temporary slowdown in chemical weapons destruction, his request to transfer two five hundred gallons of unitary VX agent was approved. Due to the volatility of the materials being moved, the operations manager was required to directly oversee loading and departure of the material. It helped greatly that Troy was the individual that wrote that specific policy.
Rising from his desk, and venturing out into the crisp pre-sunrise air, Troy quickly made his way across the open tarmac of the small airfield on Blue Grass. Looking around, seeing the early morning shift pouring in, he smiled internally, knowing that none here would ever suspect what he had in mind. Approaching a secure hanger, Troy took note of the increased security surrounding it. That was common, and not at all out of the norm.
Giving his approval to begin loading of the cargo aboard a shuttle identical to those carried aboard Destiny, Troy watched as two coffin shaped chemical containers were moved into the shuttle's cargo area. Technicians quickly secured these to the shuttles deck, to ensure the cargo did not shift in flight. Motioning these technicians away, Troy then checked the cargo as well. Removing paperwork from a portfolio in his hand, he signed the manifest turning over responsibility for the cargo to the flight crew of the shuttle. Known for his dexterity with playing cards, none noticed as Troy planted four half pound plastic explosive charges per container. These charges, nestled underneath the elevated containers, were out of sight by all.
His mission nearly complete, Troy knew he needed to stale for time. Detonators attached to each explosive device had more time than needed, so stalling was the only solution as recalibrating the timers simply wouldn't be good form. The flight crew, he invited into his office for one last cup of coffee, and to have them sign a few other forms. This allowed two things. First, it bought Troy time. Second, it would increase his odds of escaping with his life.
Taking his leave, Troy quickly made his way to his SUV. Checking his watch, he knew how long he had until the event. His one regret was the lack of time to place explosive devices in many of the munitions bunkers contained within Blue Grass. Starting his vehicle and putting it in gear, Troy quickly made his way off base. Turning south, he drove as fast as was prudent. Troy's life in Kentucky was over. Making his way to Atlanta, he would dispose of his vehicle and identity documents along the way. Before he reached Atlanta, he would be a new man, and also a man hoping to make his escape from this world. While some in his position might be worried about the event to come ending their life, Troy was not. Having checked wind patterns, he was certain that fallout would be carried north.
On the tarmac, the cargo laden shuttle was in the process of slowly pulling out of the hanger. The flight crew, settling in for their hop to Pine Bluff Arsenal, were relaxed. Flights like these were always uneventful. Receiving clearance from Lexington air traffic control for departure, the pilot began to climb vertically. In no hurry, the pilot took his time climbing to their authorized altitude. This slow climb, like so many before it, was uneventful. The flight crew, oblivious about the full extent of their cargo, had no clue that this climb would never be completed.
Detonating in unison, these eight charges resulted in several things. First, both containers filled with VX agent ruptured, rendering the chemical agent aerosol. Overpressure, contained within the sealed fuselage of the shuttle, peeled apart the shuttle entirely. Mercifully, the flight crew perished before being engulfed in VX nerve agent. Aerosolized nerve agent spewed into the atmosphere as the shuttle plummeted to the ground below.
Winds, much stronger and faster at high altitude than they were at ground level, swept the toxic cloud northeast. Before the remains of the shuttle could impact the airfield of Blue Grass Army Depot, an alert went out to the Pentagon of a chemical weapons release event. Before further information could be provided, the entire Depot was covered in the oily aerosolized VX vapor.
Discovered in the early decades of the twentieth century, VX is the single most lethal chemical ever synthesized by man. A byproduct of pesticide research, VX excelled at the destruction of life. In an age of acceptance of chemical warfare, this gruesome discovery had been rapidly weaponized. These weapons, developed to fight a war that thankfully never came, were now being turned on the civilization that developed them.
Death from VX nerve agent exposure was a gruesome death. Within the first ten seconds of exposure, those exposed began to suffer extreme nose running. Waves of nausea followed. Breathing became labored, before becoming somewhat sporadic and uneven. Severe muscle twitching followed, as all exposed collapsed. Spasming uncontrollably, those exposed fell unconscious as their central nervous system began to misfire. Unconscious, none of the victims were aware of the burns and blisters forming on the areas of their body exposed. Minutes later, not a soul remained alive at Blue Gras Army Depot.
In the Pentagon, a frantic response was underway. While Earth's economy edged toward oblivion, a nightmare scenario was unfolding inside US shores. An event like this had never been envisioned, even by the most paranoid of scenario planners. The fear was of a mass casualty event. Were it not for a large portion of the Fleet, along with the entire Replicator Fleet standing guard in the solar system, no options would have been available. Frantically, units of this standing guard were directed to make best speed for Earth. Once there, they would enter the atmosphere and activate their defensive shielding above large cities in the path of VX carried by wind. Cincinnati, Louisville, Indianapolis, and St. Louis all stood in the path of fallout. Alongside these cities, many smaller towns and townships stood.
In the coming hours, when fleet units finally did arrive, they followed their orders to the letter. Hovering above their target cities, each vessel engaged their powerful shields. These shields, designed to safeguard all within them, prevented nerve agent from raining down on helpless civilians. Tragically, this salvation did not arrive in time for Lexington, Kentucky. In total, nearly two hundred thousand men, women, and children perished.
Never before had death on this scale touched the citizens of the United States. If the military was not certain of a large scale act of unconventional warfare being waged upon Earth before, they certainly were now. The war Earth was best equipped to fight, the war it wanted to fight, was not the war it faced.
Volzhskiy
Russia
One hour after Blue Grass Attack
Seated in the passenger seat of the large Mercedes Unimog, Alik Bogdanov was lost in thought. A graduate of the prestigious Bauman Moscow State Technical University, Bogdanov was a professional engineer on the rise. After graduation, passing up highly lucrative offers to work overseas, Bogdanov instead opted to remain in Russia. Rewarded for this sacrifice, Alik Bogdanov soon found himself the Assistant Chief Engineer of local operations for RusHydro, Russia's largest hydroelectric energy company.
Performing admirably in his duties, Bogdanov soon found himself promoted into the seat of his former supervisor. That promotion made him the youngest Chief Engineer in RusHydro history, and the youngest to ever manage the Volga Hydroelectric Station. Looking out of the window of the massive Unimog, Alik Bogdanov's eyes took in the massive structure he managed.
Built in the 1950s, the Volga Hydroelectric Station was a dam of incredible size. Commissioned by Joseph Stalin, the construction of the Volga Station, as a Soviet Hero project, involved tens of thousands of workers from across the Soviet Union. In under a decade, the seven hundred and twenty-five meter wide, and forty-four meter tall dam spanned across the Volga River. Despite its age, Volga Station remained the largest in Europe. Contained behind this massive piece of workmanship was the Volgograd Reservoir, the third largest in Russia.
Every time he laid eyes on Volga Station, Alik Bogdanov marveled. Construction on such a scale was something totally unknown to the people of Lucia, his home planet. In his heart he knew, had the Goa'uld ruled over this world instead of Lucia for thousands of years, his people could have easily matched these feats. Earth's only advantage over other human worlds was their long period of isolation. It was time that Earth learned first hand just how cruel a mistress the galaxy could be.
The Unimog slowed as it neared the chain link fence in front of the entrance to Volga Station's control house. Checking the side mirror, Alik Bogdanov looked to see that his team was behind, in a vehicle of their own. Turning his head the other direction, he glanced at the large wooden crate resting in the bed of the Unimog. This crate contained the key ingredient for Alik's recipe.
Inside the crate sat a dull metal cylinder. Markings on the outside of this crate were written in Hangul, the written language of Korea. This crate, listed as filled with a turbine components, carried a far more lethal cargo. Last in a series of evolutionary designs, this metal cylinder was in fact a nuclear weapon designed and built by the now defunct nation of North Korea. Designed for use by members of a conscript military, this weapon was simple and somewhat crude.
In the vehicle accompanying the Unimog sat six North Korean Special Forces soldiers. When they defected from their failing state, they took with them North Korea's most lethal creation to date. It was their duty to punish the West, while making use of the tools the Great Leader's government provided. That this device would be used against a former ally of North Korea mattered little. Russia, having turned its back on North Korea and the communist revolutionary ideal, deserved retribution of the highest order.
Secreting the device across the globe had been child's play. Traveling by ship, the device had been removed from North Korea. In the shipping container holding the device were several thousand pounds of kitty litter. While that might seem odd to some, it was in fact a very intelligent countermeasure. Ports around the world were equipped with radiological detectors, to prevent what was about to happen. Kitty litter, composed of clay, was known to contain trace amounts of uranium, thorium, and potassium-40. These trace amounts were known by port authorities to provide false positives to pre-disclosure radiological detectors. Opening the shipping container, when kitty litter was seen, port authority inspectors always rolled their eyes and cleared the container for further shipment.
At the gate, security examined both vehicles. Approaching the Chief Engineer, the guards inquired what was being carried by the Unimog. Further, they asked the identity and purpose of those in the trailing vehicle. Pulling paperwork from his shirt pocket, Alik Bogdanov showed the guard the manifest for equipment, and authorization for the Korean technicians who were here to assist in the install of said equipment. Thanking the Chief Engineer, the guard waved them through the opening gate.
Both vehicles quickly bypassed the control house, and made their way towards an equipment unloading area. Relishing the poetic justice, Bogdanov instructed Russian laborers to unload the crate, and place it on an electric cart. For twenty minutes, the laborers followed their instructions, unloading the crate. As a reward, or perhaps hoping not to tempt karma, Bogdanov urged the laborers to depart for the day.
Moments after the dock laborers departed, Bogdanov and his accompanying 'technicians' proceeded into the bowels of the large hydroelectric station. Traveling slowly, through dank and dimly lit concrete tunnels, the men and device moved with only the hum of their electric trolleys to mark their passage. Finally, they arrived at the power generation room. Here is where they would make their stand.
Seeing no need to remove the device from the trolley, Bogdanov ordered it left in place. Sitting near the center of the dam, Alik knew this was the area where maximum damage could be inflicted. This was also the single most likely point of failure for the dam under certain circumstances. This exploitable weakness would soon be exploited to maximum effect.
"Colonel Ji, are you prepared to do your duty for the revolution?" Bogdanov asked seriously.
"I am comrade. We will protect the divine sword from the imperialists, so that they may not prevent the Great Leader's reckoning." Colonel Ji replied vigorously.
"Your actions will soon be known by all. The proletariat, inspired by your sacrifice, will rise up and cast off the West's hegemony once and for all." Bogdanov promised.
"Take this revolution to Moscow, and never allow the glorious revolution to be compromised again." Colonel Ji hissed.
"I will comrade." Bogdanov swore.
Taking his leave, Bogdanov watched as the six North Korean Special Forces soldiers took defensive positions. Their objective was to guard the weapon, and prevent anyone from interrupting the detonation sequence. Alik knew, in this task these soldiers would not fail. Checking his watch, he confirmed how much time remained before detonation. Breaking into a jog, Alik backtracked towards the waiting Unimog.
Exiting the tunnel, it took a moment for Alik's eyes to readjust. Scanning the loading area where the vehicle was parked, he made sure no preying eyes were about to witness his escape. Hopping in the Unimog, he turned the keys left by the driver in the ignition. As he slipped the incredibly large Mercedes truck into gear, a smile took form on his face. As the Colonel had said, this was a glorious day. It wasn't everyday that the work of years finally came to fruition.
His route of escape was one planned out far ahead of time. Along the way, he would dispose of his identity documents, because Alik Bogdanov died in the disaster after all. Heading northeast, he would make his way towards Ukraine, and his escape. For the first time, Alik began to believe that this entire plan would actually be pulled off, with him living to enjoy the victory.
Unaware of what was transpiring within the dam, staff did nothing to act. For thirty tense minutes, Colonel Ji and his men stood guard over their lethal gift to Russia. Ready to repel any who might prevent this act of retribution on the ally that had abandoned North Korea, the Colonel was thankful when no such attempt came. He knew the device would detonate at any moment. Closing his eyes, he thought back to a life he loved. As his face relaxed, everything around him met its end.
By comparison to the devices of other nuclear powers, this weapon was crude. A plutonium design, this device used the barrel trigger method to achieve critical mass. In total, fourteen kilotons of destructive power was unleashed within the heart of the Volgograd Hydroelectric Station. Man, machine, and concrete were vaporized in a fraction of a second. Cleaving out a cavity within the dam's structure, the detonation sealed the dam's fate before the blast wave fractured the main body of the dam.
The fractured dam began to crumble in cascade fashion. Long contained by the dam, the waters of the Volgograd Reservoir tore down the obstruction before it. Roaring waters, intermixed with chunks of concrete large and small, exploded forth into the lower rive. Mist filled the air, as the ear-splitting roar of rushing water rang out. For ten furious seconds, outer portions of the now destroyed dam stood, before failing altogether.
Once the entire dam collapsed, the waters of the Volga Reservoir were unleashed in full. An incredible surge of water, debris, mud, and rock surged over the riverbanks downstream. Millions of gallons of water turned into billions of gallons of water filling the river. Despite this, near limitless amounts of water waited for its opportunity to no longer remain contained. In the path of this crushing onslaught lay a city with a tragic history. Had the schedule to rebuild this city in the form of others currently standing on Earth, the coming tragedy would have been averted.
Volgograd, once known as Stalingrad, was a city death had visited many times. Long ago, men of the German and Soviet Armies had fought to the death over every brick of this city. What those men failed to conquer, water would with little problem. Racing towards the city at incredible speed, the destructive body of rushing water covered the distance to Volgograd quickly.
Volgograd, and the people of Volgograd stood little chance. Inundating the city with fast moving water and mud like the great flood of biblical lore, the initial surge of floodwater swept away everything in its path. Men and women, automobiles, and small buildings washed away violently. Under the crushing pressures, buildings collapsed. Volgograd was at its end. Death and destruction would not stop there though. Laying in the path of never ending floodwaters, the towns of Svetlyy Yar, Raygorod, and Kirova would meet a similar end.
In the weeks and months to follow, bodies and debris would find its way far downstream to the Caspian Sea. A final death toll for this tragedy might never be known, but it was known that nine hundred thousand inhabitants of Volgograd were washed away. When combined with the death toll in towns and settlements further down stream, this estimated death toll would rise to over a million souls. Death was not yet done with Earth.
Arkos Station
Sol Solar System
Milky Way Galaxy
Activity on Arkos Station is always a round the clock thing. No matter what may be happening, or where, Arkos was always abuzz. In construction bays, all manner of vessels were in some stage nearing completion. A recent uptick in ship construction meant activity would continue. In bays from top to bottom, vessels were taking shape. At the lowest level, the newest Prometheus Class carrier could be seen. On levels above, Asgard O'Neill Class vessels were slowly coming together. Above these, new additions to the Ascension Class were underway, having been recently ordered by several nations.
Many vessel docking points stood empty. Much of Earth's fleet was elsewhere, performing a variety of missions. These missions ranged from defense of the home solar system, to standing guard over Hebridan should the Lucian Alliance arrive on a mission of conquest. Whatever events unfolded, Arkos would remain locked in its perpetual cycle of construction, repair, and upgrade.
Assigned its own nine symbol address, the Arkos star gate activated often. Many of these activations brought with them travelers from Earth, but the recent beginning of construction for the Asgard brought travelers from a distant galaxy. Once more, the gate activated. Stepping through the stable event horizon was First Lieutenant Breanne Goodly.
Lieutenant Goodly came to Arkos, on a rare duty free day, for research purposes. When she had sought permission for this trip, she made clear her wish to examine the station to assist in her writing of a paper for the Air War College. Eager to see the finished product of Goodly's research paper, Brigadier General Samantha Carter readily agreed. The work that brought Goodly to Arkos today was a task she looked forward to, but doubted Carter would approve of at all.
"Welcome Lieutenant." The avatar of Arkos said in greeting.
"I was told you have already been informed of the purpose of my visit. Is that correct?" Goodly asked.
"General Carter made the purpose of your visit clear. I stand ready to assist you in any way needed." Arkos responded.
"Access will be needed in a number of areas. I would like to begin in the power distribution center. From there, I would like a chance to move on to your home, the AI core. Would that be agreeable?" Goodly asked pleasantly.
"My instructions are to provide you unfettered access. Do you require my assistance with your research?" Arkos questioned.
"You may not understand, but I prefer to work alone. I hope you understand." Goodly offered.
Taking her leave of the Arkos avatar, Goodly made her way across the massive station. Luckily, the constant level of activity within the station assured few took notice of her presence. This fact worked in Goodly's favor more than any other thing. Stepping out of a transporter booth near the holding bay of Puddle Jumper's ready for transfer to vessels of the fleet, Goodly felt a ball of ice in her stomach.
Entering the large Ready Jumper Bay, Goodly marveled at the sheer amount of technology at Earth's disposal. Had the Lucian Alliance a marvel like Arkos in their possession, the entirety of the Milky Way would have long ago been theirs. So much power in the palm of their hand, yet they refused to use it to its fullest. That was the story of Earth.
Making her way through row after row of stationary Puddle Jumpers, Goodly chose the one she would visit. Stepping onto its lowered rear cargo ramp, she went directly for the supplies found aboard all Jumpers. In these sealed containers mounted above the rear seating benches, were all manner of supplies that a crew might need. Removing a metallic box, Goodly opened it and began removing contents she needed to complete her mission. From this box, she took three wrapped blocks of C-4 explosive, three detonators, and a remote trigger. These she set up into individual devices, ready for use. Placing these in the leg cargo pockets of her uniform pants, she quickly exited the Jumper.
Fully aware that her window for action was fast closing due to events unfolding on Earth, Goodly moved quickly. A time for slow and methodical action this was not. Making use of the transporter booth, Goodly traveled directly to the rarely visited power distribution area. This area controlled the power distribution of not the entirety of Arkos, but of specific key systems. Identifying the two specific power conduits she sought, the young women then placed two of her three charges behind them.
Turning on her heels, she returned once again to a transporter booth nearby. Her next destination was deep within the heart of Arkos. Arguably the single most well protected area of the station, this small room was the Artificial Intelligence core. This core was the beating heart of Arkos Station. Looking around the room, an uneasy sense of uncertainty fell upon Goodly. Far from an expert on Ancient systems, Goodly found herself unsure exactly where to place the third and final explosive charge. Panic welled up within her, until she finally placed the charge in the center of the floor, certain the blast wave would destroy all within the room. That mistake would later come back to haunt her.
Returning to the transporter booth for one final time, Lieutenant Goodly felt herself covered in cold sweat. What if someone had discovered the charges? What if Arkos had monitored her, and a team was waiting in the wings to take her into custody? So many questions swam through her mind. This mental maelstrom forced Goodly to rethink her exit strategy. Originally, Goodly had planned on boarding a shuttle, blowing the charges, then making her way back to Earth. Here and now, that plan suddenly seemed fraught with peril. Knowing she was supposed to join up with her brothers and sisters on Earth, Goodly's sense of self preservation won in the end.
Acting quickly, Goodly walked as fast as she could for the Arkos gate. Disregarding all around her, the young woman input a gate address long ago memorized. Time seemed to slow as she waited for the gate to connect. When it finally did, she reached in her pocket and removed the remote trigger. Moving to within inches of the event horizon, Goodly found it impossible to turn back to look at all those that would die at her hand. Instead, she triggered each device and leapt through the gate. Lieutenant Goodly had made her escape.
Within seconds, the normally serene interior of Arkos station turned into the stuff of nightmares. Power conduits, served explosively, cut power to the large protective shield separating the interior of Arkos from lifeless space. The shield flickered twice, before ceasing operation. Exposed to the sudden vacuum of space, atmosphere contained within the stations interior vented violently into space. With it, this venting atmosphere carried three dozen shipyard advisors of both the Tau'ri and Asgard. Hurtling towards the open door to space, these bodies flew at great speed.
The avatar of Arkos, watching in horror, flickered. On his face, the avatar wore an expression of shock, surprise, pain, and struggle. In the explosion targeting the AI core, a portion of the neural network making up Arkos's higher functions and personality were heavily damaged. Unable to mitigate the malfunctions being experienced, the avatar of Arkos vanished from sight as the AI went into lockdown.
Emergency barriers powered up throughout the station. Sadly, these barriers could do nothing to save those already vented to space. Had Goodly known more about Ancient technology, she would have known the Ancient's built incredible amounts of redundancy into their every creation. Power, channeled through alternate conduits, re-energized the main protective shield. Atmosphere began to pump back into the station, from reserves held elsewhere.
In a room filled with lucky survivors, an odd and frightening sight appeared. The avatar of Arkos was a familiar sight to all. Two separate avatars was not. More frightening, the two avatars were arguing with each other. What none knew was that the personality matrix of Arkos was damaged, resulting in two halves of the same whole coming into conflict with one another.
"We are under attack. We must respond!" The defensive systems portion of Arkos demanded.
"The living must be protected. Earth must be informed!" The second avatar argued in reply.
"To protect those within, we must attack!" the defensive systems portion demanded.
"You were nothing more than an afterthought of our creators. I control the power your systems need!" The second avatar fired back.
The defensive systems portion of the Arkos artificial intelligence made its move. Redirecting power to weapons systems, the defensive systems personality also reached out to the onboard artificial intelligence platforms integrated into all vessels currently sitting in dock. The other half of Arkos's now split personality, detecting these attempts, made moves of its own. Issuing a quick series of orders to the construction systems of the station, the other half of Arkos's personality moved to logjam all systems, and redirect power away from defensive systems. Within the AI core of the station, a war of wills was underway, unseen both those left living. For now, both halves of the system were left in stalemate.
This heated argument would continue for some time to come. From Arkos, an emergency signal was transmitted to Earth, and to vessels of the fleet. For now, the source of Earth's single largest advantage lay crippled and at odds with itself.
National Military Command Center
The Pentagon
Earth
While the first rays of sunshine from another Washington, DC sunrise washed over the city along the Potomac River, tensions ran high in the NMCC. Hours earlier, it seemed as if the world had suddenly gone mad. The overnight duty shift, long accustomed to minimal activity, found themselves hours before overwhelmed by a nonstop series of events around the world. It all began in Asia, with the destruction of both the Seoul and Tokyo Stock Exchanges. While the financial world, in a panic, moved to staunch the bleeding of a global economy in free fall, those within the NMCC found themselves confronted with other horrors.
Overloaded with reports flowing in from across the globe, the overnight shift standing duty quickly put out the call for all personnel assigned to the NMCC, despite the shift, to report for duty. While not unprecedented, this move signaled to all who were called in that a state of emergency was building. This influx of personnel was quickly assigned to monitor specific regions. Coordinating with international partners, a clearer picture of what exactly was going on began to form. All were certain Earth was under attack.
Watching over the NMCC, Major General Winters attempted to make sense of all that was happening. A day earlier, a warning from the Defense Intelligence Agency had crossed his desk, warning of a potentially imminent attack from the Lucian Alliance. Steps had been taken to mitigate that threat, with the deployment of a large number of Earth and Replicator vessels. Earth's powerful shield stood ready to energize at a moments notice, while the chair controlling the Ancient defense outpost in Antarctica was constantly manned.
Problems with the hypothesis that these events taking place across Earth were evident. Equipped with powerful sensors, any Lucian Alliance vessel, even one cloaked, would have been detected during its approach towards Earth. No approaching vessels made it unlikely this was a Lucian Alliance attack at all. That realization created a larger looming question. If this was not the work of the Lucian Alliance, then who was behind this? Oddly, the Defense Intelligence Agency refused to comment further on how the intelligence their initial warning was based upon was gathered.
The economy in virtual free fall was bad, but not something General Winters could in any way prevent or influence. Internet failure globally was troubling, but again not something he could do anything about. Chemical weapons saturating the air above Kentucky and Indiana was his chief concern, and one the fleet was now moving to stand against. When reports of a nuclear detonation began to trickle in from Russia, along with reports of massive casualties from severe flooding, Winters knew that things were getting worse by the moment.
On a holographic display screen, aerial video footage of floodwaters tearing through inhabited corridors along the Volga River were seen by all. Several within the NMCC gasped in horror at the sight seen. The question of what could be done quickly presented itself, only to be answered with a helpless and terse "nothing".
Walking quickly, both Secretary of Defense Landry, and General Jack O'Neill strode into the NMCC. Without uttering a word, the two newly arrived men took places to either side of Major General Winters, and watched the events displayed on the holographic display screen. Turning towards Winters, Landry began to speak.
"Cause?" Landry asked tersely.
"Mr. Secretary, we are receiving reports from the Russian military that seismic monitoring stations detected what they believe to be a nuclear detonation. Estimates put the size at between ten and twenty kilotons. We are still waiting for the Russians to verify with air sampling." Winters explained.
"So we have large scale release of chemical weapons in the United States, and a nuclear detonation in Russia? Once is happenstance, and twice is a pattern." Landry said with a heavy heart.
Engrossed in the video footage displayed, General O'Neill stood stoically, opting to remain silent. Looking at Jack for a moment, Landry searched for something to say, anything to say. When his search came up with nothing, he instead lifted a phone, and input a code known only to a select few.
"This is Secretary Landry. A high order nuclear detonation has occurred in Russia. Our assessment is this is a high casualty event. On my authority, I am moving us to Defense Condition Two." Landry said quickly, before returning the phone to its cradle.
"President?" Jack asked.
"National Security Council, and the National Security Advisor." Landry replied.
"Your orders Mr. Secretary?" Winters asked.
"Get the word out to all major commands, and our allies. Take us to Defcon Two. All commands are authorized to take all measures necessary for the defense of their command." Landry instructed.
"Send signal to the SGC that they are to dial Videum's gate to relay instructions. Tell them they are to depart the Andromeda galaxy and make best possible speed for Earth." Jack ordered.
Moments later, an emergency signal was received from Arkos Station. This attack had now spread to the outer reaches of the solar system. While those within the NMCC attempted to come to grips with this newest development, the nationwide Emergency Alert System activated. Following suit, the same measure was taken in nations across the globe.
Punjab Region
Pakistan
Earth
A crisp breeze coursed across the Punjab Region of Pakistan. Far from the developed cities, towns, and villages of this nation, the stars shone without interference from civilizations light. Hidden in a valley, three unique vehicles belonging the Pakistani military, and their individual three man crews, stood ready to guard the state. These men, belonging to the Pakistani Strategic Rocket Forces, were the sword of divine retribution for the nation. Their vehicles, three separate six wheeled transporter erector launchers, were well camouflaged.
As a portion of Pakistan's strategic deterrent force, these men and their three vehicles visited this valley, and others like it twice per month. In the minds of the vehicle crews, only they stood between Pakistan and Indian aggression. Before the nuclear powers of Earth forever stood down and dismantled their strategic rocket forces, tens of thousands of men and women around the world performed the mission these vehicle crews now performed. Following the near global disarmament, only Pakistan and India remained locked in the mission of nuclear deterrence.
On the breeze, the characteristic clatter of a helicopter could be heard approaching. Consulting their time tables, the crews of the three transporter erector launchers made sure that the current time matched that of times for authorized visit from inspecting officers of the Strategic Rocket Forces. In the darkness, the darkened helicopter began to circle the three vehicles and their crews. Gingerly, the Russian built Mi-17 touched ground, and began to shut down.
Before the rotors came to a stop, a Pakistani Colonel, and well dressed Caucasian man exited the rear compartment of the helicopter. On the face of the Colonel was a grim and fearsome look of anger, and determination. On the Caucasian mans face, a smug look of satisfaction, and superiority. Walking directly towards the gathered crews of the transporter erector launchers, the Colonel began to yell.
"Why have you not responded to the high command? What frequency are you monitoring? Answer me, or I will see you shot for treason before sunrise!" The Colonel bellowed.
A conscript military, members of the Pakistani armed forces feared their superiors. The sight of an irate Colonel threatening their deaths sent shivers of terror down the spines of each TEL crew. None knew what the Colonel spoke of, and all were afraid to ask. Instead, they stood rigidly at attention.
"None of you have answers? Your failure to perform basic tasks may have cost our nation this war!" Colonel Irfan Shirani Rana screamed.
Hearing this, the TEL crew members began to exchange frightened looks. Was the country at war? If so, it could only come from one source, and that source was an ages old enemy. On a basic level, the Colonel's words resonated in each crew member. They were the fighting men of their nation, entrusted to stand guard over the nation and its interests.
"At this moment, your brothers are dying. India has launched a war of aggression, and is pouring their armies into Kashmir. Supported by China, our one time ally, India has declared war. We will not allow India to take another step in our territory! Your orders are to ready two of your missiles for immediate launch. The remaining missile I want immediately relocated thirty miles north, while maintaining radio silence." The Colonel instructed.
These orders, orders the crews hoped would never come, made sense in the eyes of each TEL crew member. If the Indian's had finally surged into Kashmir, then nuclear war was a certainty. The Strategic Rocket Force existed only to keep the Indian's behind their own borders. Springing into action, the crew's ran to their vehicles.
"I told you this would work." Colonel Irfan Shirani Rana said quietly.
"When it does, you will become the new leader of Pakistan, and what little is left of India." Trevain, a Lucian Alliance agent, replied.
Falling in lockstep with the Colonel, Trevain followed. Reviewing the operational timeline in his mind, Trevain knew that at this moment Earth bled. Breanne Goodly, having completed her sabotage of Arkos Station, should at this moment be making her return trip to Earth now. Once his work here was complete, Trevain would make his own escape, and join up with his comrades to take their leave of this world forever. Before that could happen, he needed to first deliver the coup de grace to the enemies of his people.
Colonel Irfan Shirani Rana felt power within his grasp. A career officer, he had watched as the current generation of general officers within the Pakistani military had squandered their nation's wealth, while refusing to strike down India. When approached by Trevain, a man sympathetic to Pakistan's plight, the Colonel found someone who understood. Over the course of this seduction, the Colonel was plied with visions of a strong Pakistan; a Pakistan under the rule of the Colonel. Appealing to the mans greed and vanity, Trevain had found the access he needed to accomplish goals grander than those of his team.
Always kept mission ready, to launch or relocate, TEL's started its powerful diesel engine. Lights off, the TEL began to move, heading north. On the two remaining transporter erector launchers, crew members pulled safety pins from all over the vehicle, and the erector itself. Colonel Irfan Shirani Rana, with Trevain in tow, stepped to a side panel of the nearest TEL.
Pulling a recessed handle, the panel opened, and a computer terminal slid towards the Colonel. Tapping a series of instructions into the keyboard, the Colonel navigated the missile systems in front of him with ease. From his uniform blouse, he removed a folded piece of paper. Reading off the first line on the sheet of paper, he then quickly input this information into the missiles systems. Two minutes later, he repeated the same process with the other remaining missile on the second TEL.
What Colonel Irfan Shirani Rana was doing was retargeting both missiles, while arming both for launch. This was possible only because of the process of control used by Pakistani nuclear forces. Pakistan, unlike other nuclear powers, relied on a system of delagative control, which had the unfortunate side effect of allowing for unauthorized nuclear release. Other nations, more responsible nations, made use of a system of assertive control, requiring a series of unlock procedures to prevent unauthorized release. Pakistan made use of this problematic and highly dangerous system due to their lack of strategic depth, a much smaller nuclear arsenal, and fear of a decapitation strike rendering governmental authorization impossible.
Motioning for the crews of the two TEL's to approach, the Colonel put a serious expression on his face. This expression was one that would brook no argument. Seeing this, the now incredibly alert crews listened intently. Now was no time for mistakes.
"You men will be rewarded for performing your duties with speed and efficiency. Now, I will remain and launch these weapons. All of you will leave here, this second. You will head for the nearest village, and shed your uniforms. Bend in, and if the Indian's come, fight them from the shadows. Now go!" Colonel Irfan Shirani Rana ordered sternly.
Moving to their vehicles, the crews removed their packs, personal effects, and weapons. Shouldering their burden, they quickly moved away from the transporter erector launchers, in a direction which would carry them to the nearest village standing eleven miles to the Northeast.
"When I initiate the launch sequence, things will begin to happen quickly. We must move as far away from both launchers as possible, or you and I will burn to death. Do you understand?" The Colonel asked.
"Start the launch and lets run." Trevain urged.
Typing in a command, the Colonel initiated the start sequence. Internal systems, counting down a three minute clock as directed, spooled up quickly. Running to the second TEL, the Colonel repeated the same sequence, with a modified countdown clock. From there, both men ran as fast as their legs could propel them. Neither wished to be incinerated by the initial thermal pulse of either rockets ignition.
On top of both TEL's, multiple amber lights began to flash. Loud horns sang out as well. Machinery within each TEL strained to lift both twenty-five thousand kilogram Shaheen-II ballistic missiles to their vertical launch position. Internally, small explosive squibs fired within the bodies of each missile. These squibs, igniting the solid fueled rocket motors, performed as designed. Fire and noise erupted from both missiles, as thrust took hold. Slowly at first, both Shaheen-II ballistic missiles began to rise. As both missiles cleared the gantry of their carrying vehicles, they incinerated both transporter erector launchers.
Rising above both now destroyed vehicles, a rocket propellant fueled inferno rained down on the surrounding landscape. Continuing their climb, both rockets rose like spears tossed into the heavens. Passing through light cloud cover, the missiles began to maneuver. The first, angling east, continued its climb along the ballistic path that would carry its lethal cargo to India. The second, angling north, began its short journey to its impact point in China.
From a distance, both the Colonel and Trevain watched as both ballistic missiles streaked skyward. These brilliantly lit pillars of fire represented different things to both men. For the Colonel, this launch marked the begin of his promised rise to control of both Pakistan and what remained of India. To Trevain, this launch signified the achievement of a his life's work, and the act that would bring about his people's rise to power.
Watching both missiles fade in the distance, both men glanced at one another and smiled. These smiles represented different things for both men. Wordlessly, both began their walk to the helicopter waiting in the distance. Reaching the halfway point, the two men began to speak.
"I have delivered my part of this deal. Now, it is your time to deliver what I have earned." The Colonel stated.
"Worry not Colonel, I will deliver exactly what you have coming." Trevain promised.
Missing the unspoken implication, the Colonel thought of his next response. As he did, Trevain reached for a pistol at the small of his back. Already chambered, the pistol was quickly leveled towards the back of Colonel Irfan Shirani Rana's skull. The report of a single pistol shot rang out, and echoed throughout the valley. Dead before he hit the ground, the Colonel fell lifelessly to the ground. Trevain, continuing his walk towards the helicopter, feared not at all the reaction of the helicopters flight crew. After all, he had reached a financial arrangement with them earlier.
NORAD
Cheyenne Mountain
Earth
The mood within NORAD was tense. Briefed to expect a Lucian Alliance attack on Earth, all duty stations were fully manned. Not sense the Wraith's arrival in this solar system had tensions ran so high. Adding to this tension were the reports of what was happening around the world. Many of the men and women sitting within NORAD had friends and family in the eastern United States. All they could do was hope that none of these friends and loved ones fell into harms way.
NORAD, long time watcher of the skies, was now a dual function command. Using powerful sensors installed within Cheyenne Mountain, the men and women of this command watched for any threat that might attempt to enter the solar system of Sol. In addition to this mission, NORAD vigilantly monitored the few remaining pieces of its terrestrial monitoring gear.
That gear was the Space Based Infrared System. Filled with incredibly sensitive infrared detection gear, these satellites sat in geostationary orbit. Once, the SBIRS constellation numbered nearly a dozen satellites. International disarmament of intercontinental ballistic missiles by a majority of nuclear powers brought about removal of many of these space based assets. Those that remained looked down on the last two nations to maintain ballistic missile forces. Unexpectedly, SBIRS detected two large thermal pulses within Pakistan's borders.
Alarms sounded within NORAD. On the large holographic display screens ringing the cavernous monitoring theater, highly detailed infrared video footage was seen by all. Seeing this, Major Stephanie Cranst focused her full attention to the screen in front of her.
"Multiple potential missile launches within the Punjab region of Pakistan." Major Cranst announced over the intercom.
"Confirm that!" Colonel Nick Duncan ordered from a distance.
Staring intently at the SBIRS live feed, Cranst hoped that this was a false alarm. Her intuition told her this was not a false alarm, but an actual launch. Both thermal signatures maintained their position, before altering to separate headings. This told Cranst that she was watching the opening moves of a nuclear war.
"Valid launch, I say again, valid launch." Cranst reported.
"Major, run the numbers. I need to know the end targets." Duncan pressed.
As Cranst manipulated the controls of the data terminal before her, she began to plot where these two missiles might be destined for. Confusion set in as she saw that one was clearly heading for China.
"Strike points for both launches are indeterminate at this time. Current trajectory suggests impact will occur in eastern China, and India. Thermal signature suggests both tracks are Shaheen-II's." Cranst called out.
Reaching for the gold phone on the desk in front of him, Colonel Duncan brought the receiver to his face. On the other end of this line was the National Military Command Center. Eight seconds of waiting brought an answer at the other end of the line.
"Go for Capstone." The NMCC began.
"Capstone, this is Crystal Palace. We are declaring a Bitter Harvest event at this time." Duncan stated, using the code phrase for a foreign missile launch.
"Crystal Palace, amplify." The NMCC requested.
"Capstone, sensors show two, I repeat two missile launches from the Punjab region of Pakistan. Thermal data suggests both outbound tracks are Pakistani Shaheen-II missiles. One track is heading for India, and the second track China." Duncan said quickly.
"Crystal Palace, say again?" The NMCC questioned in disbelief.
"Capstone, impact points are within the borders of India and China. Will advice final impact points when known." Duncan said, before putting the gold phone on his shoulder.
"Impact points are firming up. Ballistic track suggests impact points will be Jaipur, India for first track. Second track will impact Urumqi, China." Cranst announced moments later.
This information was passed on to Capstone. From there, this information quickly made its way, through standing hotlines, to both the Chinese and Indian governments. NORAD was not the only group aware of these ballistic missile launches. Powerful early warning radar, within Indian and Chinese borders, had also detected both launches. Three tense minutes followed India's detection of these launches. On holographic data screens in NORAD, a third thermal pulse was seen within India's borders. India, aware of an inbound attack, was responding with an attack of their own.
"Capstone, Crystal Palace. We show a second launch event within India." Duncan announced into the gold phone.
"Oh my god." Capstone stuttered in reply.
In the Pentagon, within the National Military Command Center, a flurry of activity took place. Announcement of a Bitter Harvest Event, codeword for a foreign ballistic missile launch spurred a further flurry of activity across Earth. Heads of state, whisked away by their protective service's, soon found themselves swept towards safety. Frantic attempts to prevent any either Pakistan's or India's missiles from reaching their targets were also being attempted. The only chance to intercept these missiles rested with the Ancient outpost in Antarctica. Due to the short flight times of all three ballistic missiles currently in the air, interception using Ancient drone weapons proved impossible. Drones simply would not have the time needed to cover the distance to target in time.
Across India, a flood of orders filled the electromagnetic spectrum. Initiating their Cold Start doctrine, all units of the Indian military were being ordered to full readiness, and to prepare for movement. In a span of minutes, this region of the world had bridged the gap between peace and war. Strangely, no further ballistic launches came from Pakistan. While perplexing, this was the one bright point in the entire situation thus far.
In the atmosphere of southeastern Asia, three ballistic missiles raced. Pakistani and Indian weapons passed each other in the air, before continuing on towards their targets. The missile targeting Jaipur, having the shortest distance to cross, released its single warhead. Heating from atmospheric friction caused the lone warhead to glow like a falling star as it tore through the dark skies.
In the city of Jaipur, most were asleep. Unaware of the incoming weapon of mass destruction, the citizens of Jaipur slept blissfully, enjoying whatever their dreams might hold. From the heavens, a single bright object fell. At an altitude of three thousand feet, this object burst into a ball of fire far brighter than any sun. In total, two hundred and forty kilotons of destructive force was unleashed upon Jaipur. Radiation raced in all directions, as the core of the weapon reached critical mass. Objects throughout the city spontaneously combusted from the onslaught of a thermal pulse near the temperature of the sun. Following this hellish thermal pulse, the now consumed weapons shock wave flattened buildings within a three mile circle radiating outward form ground zero. In the blink of an eye, six hundred thousand souls perished, without ever knowing they were in danger.
Watching the strike unfold, the watch standers within NORAD went silent. Bile welled up within the throats of many. The sound of retching could be heard from a corner of the room. These men and women, tasked with protecting this world, saw firsthand the magnitude of their failure. Beneath the expanding firestorm consuming Jaipur, countless people lay dead. Many more would lose their lives in the hours to come.
Above eastern China, two F-302's tasked with alert intercept duty, raced through the skies. Their mission, a near impossible mission, was to intercept and destroy the weapon targeted on Urumqi. Their reactionless drives pushing them at incredible speeds brought them within detection range of the rapidly descending warhead. Standing out clearly on their infrared tracking system, the warhead could be seen by both aircrafts pilots. Try as they may, the warhead proved impossible to intercept. Refusing to fail, the two brave Chinese pilots followed the warhead as it descended. Firing every weapon at their disposal, they tried valiantly to defend their nation and countrymen, but their efforts proved ineffective. These two pilots, along with their aircraft, were vaporized in the nuclear fire that consumed Urumqi. Eight hundred thousand souls perished, without ever knowing why.
India's missile, unleashing its payload, unleashed not one, but three nuclear weapons. These independently targeted reentry vehicles screamed to three separate points around the same target. That target, the seat of the Pakistani government, was Islamabad. Reaching their appointed detonation points, at three points of an imaginary triangle above Islamabad, these warheads detonated. Larger than the weapon that detonated above Jaipur or Urumqi, each of these warheads let loose three hundred and eighty kilotons of nuclear fury. Islamabad, and the cities one million inhabitants, perished in the devils sunrise of nuclear fire.
Star Gate Command
Cheyenne Mountain
Earth
Standing in the operations center of the SGC, Brigadier General Samantha Carter dropped to her knees and retched. Sharing data feed with NORAD above, the General knew all too well what had transpired. All blood drained from her face, as tears welled up within her eyes. At that moment, a figure appeared beside her. Looking up, Samantha Carter laid her eyes upon Ambassador Dorin of the Furling.
"We couldn't stop it." Samantha said quietly.
"Stop what General?" Dorin asked with concern and confusion.
"The attack. Millions are dead." Samantha said, as tears began to fall.
Going ramrod straight, Dorin's eyes grew wide. Looking at Samantha, and then the gate, Dorin's expression turned clam frantic. Shooting a look once again at the star gate in the distance, Dorin watched as an event horizon formed. This was done through his own doing.
"Samantha, you must focus. Do what you can for you people. I will get help." Dorin said with urgency.
"Who?" Samantha asked weakly.
"Everyone." Dorin replied.
A second later, Dorin transformed into a glowing wisp of spectral light. At incredible speed, the ascended form of Ambassador Dorin crossed through the walls before him, and passed through the event horizon of the active gate.