Three years later, in 1967.
The sixties were a difficult time for me. On the one hand, there was the truce with the Goa'uld, on the other, a looming series of wars, the growing popularity of hippie culture, and the widespread craze for psychotropic substances. On top of that, Apophis, that complete bastard, sent two hundred Huttaks against me. I expected nothing less from him, though. Fortunately, I managed to obtain intelligence that he, with Ra's permission, was preparing a large-scale invasion. Ra, clearly dissatisfied with my activities, cannot act independently, so he delegates authority to Apophis. The enemy fleet is scheduled to arrive after the truce expires, when war will be officially declared on me. However, the declaration of war itself is a trifle, of little concern to me.
When Apophis's fleet approached the Urvashi system, my forces were already prepared. Seventy-four Hattaks against two hundred—certainly not the most favorable odds. I had defensive stations at my disposal, as well as a significant number of Alkesh and other escort ships, the production of which had been successfully established. Nevertheless, the enemy's numerical superiority remained critical. I would have to resort to tactical ingenuity, and utilize it to the fullest extent, otherwise the losses would be unacceptable. Unfortunately, the Asgard refused to provide a temporary weapon, and consequently, a warhead that could have ensured a quick victory.
Over the past three years, my forces have grown significantly, and new defensive stations have appeared. They differ from the Khasar station in that they are tetrahedrons bristling with weapons along their edges. These more cost-effective structures can be deployed on various planets, ensuring the complete safety of the population. Nevertheless, the system's second planet had to be evacuated, despite all the difficulties. Only Urvashi possesses a planetary shield, provided by the Asgard. Therefore, in the event of an attack, the enemy fleet will be solely subject to automatic defenses. It is noteworthy that the second planet is not synchronized with Urvashi and is in a different orbit relative to the local star. It remains a mystery what tactics the enemy command will choose.
My flagship, the Kern, resembled a kilometer-long and wide sickle, topped with a command pyramid. This design allowed for the concentrated fire of hundreds of plasma cannons to be focused on the ship's forward direction. Despite its impressive performance, the Kern suffered from numerous "teething problems," though wiring-related fatalities had not yet been identified. Essentially, a complete redesign was required. Fortunately, the ship's construction was funded by the Asgard, allowing me to spare myself the expense. Thus, the Kern was a powerful but crude model that would be perfected over time. I hope the next flagship will be flawless, but the mere sight of this behemoth, bristling with weapons, sends a terrifying message to my enemies. Having received intelligence of the approaching fleet, I began to formulate plans.
During the allotted time, ten Huttaks were upgraded to the second model, equipped with a closed bottom and an additional six million cubic meters for equipment storage. Defense is based on holding positions in close proximity to the planet, concentrating forces to fire on enemy ships. Constant attacks by aircraft carriers, Alkesh, corvettes, and frigates, supported by a massive missile barrage, will prove ineffective against two hundred upgraded Huttaks equipped with anti-missile systems and railguns. However, even this will distract the enemy, which is already a positive development. Furthermore, there are other ideas that could complicate the enemy fleet's operations.
Technically, our forces are practically equal: my ships are twice as powerful as standard Huttaks thanks to the assistance of the Asgard. Thus, the ratio is 200 to 140. However, I do not intend to engage in direct confrontation to avoid losses. Restoring the ships is a lengthy process, although the wreckage can certainly be recycled. But that is not an option. My primary objective is to minimize losses. Whether this will be successful is an open question. Two hundred Hattaks are a colossal force, capable of wiping out any resistance, and such a fleet is not deployed against a minor adversary. There is certainly reason for pride.
"Phaeron, their hyperspace signatures are localized to one point," McVay reported.
"Admiral, take command," I replied. The Kern served as my flagship, and not just mine. I rarely interfered with the combat work of my subordinates, especially in space combat. My role was limited to observation, propaganda, and, of course, backup. I'm a warrior, and I'm not about to back down from a bunch of idiots invading my planet.
The defense plan was honed over seventeen years, constantly being updated. The entire fleet trained to repel increasingly complex attacks. Knowing the precise characteristics of enemy ships allowed for training to be as realistic as possible. The fleet had extensive combat experience, and its crews knew their ships inside and out. They were an extremely effective team: plasma cannon operators learned to shoot down fighters with their own weapons, even if it was a pointless exercise. Advanced targeting systems and sophisticated neural network computers predicted enemy actions, making the necessary adjustments.
We determined the enemy's vector and probable exit point from hyperspace. A line of autonomous defense satellites armed with missiles and mines was deployed along this vector. The work was completed quickly, thanks to the existing infrastructure. Thus, upon the enemy's exit from hyperspace, they could be immediately destroyed.
"A single Khattak emerged from hyperspace."
"Destroy."
The missiles raced toward their target. The ship took several direct hits before the shields activated. Even after the shields were activated, the powerful bombs began rapidly depleting their charge, eventually leading to detonation.
Technically, exiting hyperspace is possible anywhere in space. However, there is a preferred plane—the planet's orbit. This is precisely what made the ambush possible. But the ambush was successfully neutralized. The first ship turned out to be merely a scout, sent to scan the system. The smaller ship could not be used due to the poor quality of its scanners. The enemy commander sacrificed one ship to assess our disposition and select the optimal location for the subsequent exit. In response to my assumptions, 199 hyperspace windows opened within a single light path of Urvashi's satellite.
All pilots and gunners were connected to a single information network to more effectively carry out the admiral's commands. McVay was also integrated into this system. I, meanwhile, passively monitored the orders being given. Thanks to cybernetic upgrades, I now possess a powerful onboard computer that's always with me. If necessary, it can send a signal, for example, in the event of a kidnapping or disappearance. Certain frequencies were registered for MIC agents, and others for my warriors, allowing me to maintain control. Naturally, I had the most advanced equipment, since I was in charge. As the saying goes, if you don't praise yourself, no one else will. Over the years, my planet has advanced significantly in the field of cyberpunk, but we haven't overused it; humans prefer organic bodies.
The most one could encounter were super-powerful computers embedded within me. Initially, they were on tape, but even without it, in an emergency, you could "play cyberpunk," although tinkering with the systems of a computer connected to your head isn't the healthiest idea. Other options are even more unpleasant. Besides, they're excellent spy equipment, but only until you're scanned. Therefore, avoiding scanners is another purpose of these devices. As usual, the best toys go to the brass, but that didn't matter right now.
I activated the communication system:
"Unknown ships, identify yourselves and the purpose of your arrival."
An image of a man appeared on the screen.
"I am Surin, commander of Apophis. For your insult to the honor of the House of Apophis, you will be destroyed."
"You didn't address me according to my title," I pointed out his impoliteness.
"You won't need it soon!" Surin shouted.
"Don't be so hasty in your death. See what defenses I have and what a fleet I have? Do you really want this? Do you want to go against my orbital defenses and my fleet? Right in my system? How naive."
"You will perish, and all of Urvashi will perish as punishment! All your troops will be executed for mocking the House of Apophis!"
"What do you keep saying: House of Apophis, House of Apophis. You attacked me first, and I responded. You were the ones who constantly attacked me, and each time you got what you deserved. So the only thing I've ever done to offend the House of Apophis is by not losing. Everything else is within the bounds of my contracts.
"Even if you beg for mercy, no one..."
"Do you think I'm begging for mercy?" I raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm just pointing out what an idiot you are. We are Goa'uld. We don't care about any Asgardian nonsense about honor, valor, and all that other nonsense. We rule by right of might. If you're strong, just say, 'I've come to take everything from you by right of might.' And not some nonsense about the House of Apophis. One day, I will hold your master's head and drink wine from it. Or rather, from the host's head. But you won't see it, because you'll be dead, like your entire fleet. To the last man, unless, of course, someone decides to flee after the rout and face their master in disgrace. So my advice to you: don't survive this battle, or Apophis will do many unpleasant things to you."
The enemy fleet commander was surprised.
— There are more of us.
"Has this ever helped anyone in the galaxy against me?" I asked ironically. He growled, well aware of the reputation of my troops.
- They will cease to exist!
I cut off contact with this overconfident adversary. He may have been a capable commander, but his excessive talkativeness served him poorly. It would have been far simpler and more effective to state my demands without further ado. Mentioning House honor was inappropriate, as for most Goa'uld, family ties served merely as a convenient political tool.
There are two main approaches to planetary sieges: total encirclement or a single, concentrated strike. Surin chose the former, dividing his fleet into small squadrons of ten ships each, which began encircling the planet. A total of twenty such squadrons were deployed, operating semi-autonomously. This approach made sense, given that the ships likely belonged to different domains. They bypassed minefields and distant defenses.
In response, McVay launched a long-range missile barrage. The goal was to force the enemy to waste valuable air defense resources and distract them from several clever traps that would herald the main attack. The enemy ship commanders were faced with a difficult choice: die or try to survive. While the scout ships were obviously free of Goa'uld, the others were, and the crews clearly had no desire to die. They stalled while their ships were subjected to long-range missile fire.
"Missiles launched!" This was no longer a simple message, but a thought, instantly transmitted across a unified information network, vaguely reminiscent of the Adeptus Mechanicus's perfect new sphere. Connected to this network, I could observe what was happening. Since we were close to our base, the missiles were delivered by teleport directly from it.
Thousands of missiles rushed toward the enemy fleet. Among them were both highly effective and less sophisticated models. Some actively maneuvered, others carried jamming devices. The enemy squadrons endured tense moments, activating all available systems to repel the missile swarm. They even formed a perfect defensive formation, which, perhaps, deserved praise.
"Use hyperspace torpedoes," McVay ordered.
More than twenty hyperspace windows opened near the enemy squadrons, and missile-like objects emerged from them. They were relatively simple: cheap hyperdrives, no naquadah or other frills. They were standard hyperspace missiles, each with a multi-gigaton explosive yield. I used the "Gatebreaker" technology, or rather, Carter's idea, perfected by my scientists.
I decided not to use the "Battery." It was too risky: if anyone survived and told anyone about such a weapon, the entire galactic alliance would destroy me. So we used what we had—Gatebreakers. They certainly wouldn't destroy the Huttak, but they would certainly knock the enemy's composure. Nothing is static in space, so pilots manually entered coordinates to exit hyperspace, which meant extra work for the automated systems and complicated targeting. The goal was to freeze them in place, and the missiles performed this role perfectly, as did the hyperspace torpedoes that followed.
The blast radius of a multi-gigaton bomb is a hundred kilometers. Therefore, despite the shields, the strike reached its target without completely disabling them. However, the squadron formation was disrupted, and the ships began maneuvering erratically. Realizing the nature of the threat, they began using their own hullabaloos to disrupt the target's aim, which was quite convenient. The first act of the "Marlezon Ballet" was performed.
The squadron, led by the Kern and ten second-model Huttaks, surged forward at top speed. This should have been a significant boost. How many guns were in a single firing arc? Three hundred on the Kern and a hundred on each modified Huttak, aimed at the sector. As a result, some enemy ships were hit by up to 1,300 plasma salvos simultaneously.
— The shooting program is loaded!
— The firing cycle is marked.
— The first target has been marked.
The enemy saw my fleet launch an attack first, which likely left them in shock. They moved their forces to counterattack, but my fleet erupted in a single burst of plasma blasts, concentrated on a single ship. Thousands of plasma blasts struck the shield, causing it to disappear in literally a second. We detected this in milliseconds, and the gunners shifted their fire to the other ships.
The squadron, moving at high speed, fired at everything in its path. The enemy ships' shields ruptured, followed by a turn and they fled at top speed. Now they realized the full danger my ships posed. As they attempted to pincer me, the ships' guns opened fire from all sectors. Explosions followed one after another, the enemy snapped back, but our shields held. The rest of the fleet continued to pelt them with missiles, and they responded in kind. Our missile defenses successfully intercepted most of the threats, although a few missiles still reached the shields without significantly reducing their strength.
Our squadron returned, damaging enemy communications along the way. The enemy now realized the full power of my flagship, concentrating their fire specifically on these ships. War is the art of deception, but sometimes the deception is less obvious. To me, the Kern is a pile of scrap metal, acquired for next to nothing, a mere showcase project. I could trade it for twenty Hattaks, but the Goa'uld think otherwise. They think I'm a typical Goa'uld, protecting his toy. But I won't do that. Let them send as many squads as they want to destroy this ship. Essentially, for them, this ship is like the Death Star for the Rebels. However, while the Alliance is facing an existential, galactic threat, the Kern is merely tactical. The power of such a ship cannot be ignored. No trade can be forced when the Kern arrives and destroys everyone. They'll be forced to concentrate their entire fleet on my ship. That's the trap. So far, they've already lost eleven Ha'ttaks, which is quite a bit, considering I've suffered no losses. They've also expended a significant amount of missile weapons.
The enemy fleet has retreated several astronomical units to regroup and make further decisions. Word of my flagship is probably spreading throughout the galaxy right now. Well, I can send that data too, specifically, to report that the entire House has attacked me, and the result. 11:0. I can even begin broadcasting, although that would be foolish. I'll edit some of it, assuming I survive, of course.
— Send the alkeshi and corvettes.
Hundreds of ships rushed forward, attempting to encircle the retreating fleet. They attacked from all directions, fortunately for space, where you can fly and fire anywhere. Enemy fighters took off, and a small-scale massacre of small craft began. Thousands of missiles were exchanged between the various factions. We began to suffer some losses, but fortunately, I had an emergency teleport for my men. Nearby ships instantly picked them up. The enemy ships retreated, trying to fend off the smaller vessels. They fired defensive plasma fire, but hitting an experienced pilot, whose brain has been enhanced by cybernetic implants, is quite difficult. Thousands of defense systems collided with one another, tearing apart gliders. The tactical screen displayed data from various ships and the status of their shields. More and more of our small ships were disengaging, unable to deal with the larger ships even with combined fire. The enemy ships also maneuvered, protecting their damaged shields.
On McVay's orders, they closed the distance and headed for Urvashi. My ships demonstrated their power, showing they weren't to be taken lightly. They also depleted the enemy ships' defense systems. Why did the Goa'uld use plasma? Because it never runs out. They set out on a long-range raid without ensuring they had sufficient missile and ammunition reserves. I had supply depots when I sent my ships out like that, but they didn't. They'll soon run out of anti-missiles and railgun ammo.
"We've lost a number of Alkesh and corvettes," came the message. I merely nodded, though there was no one around to appreciate it except the guards standing behind me.
Meanwhile, the House Apophis fleet retreated to a safe distance, constantly shifting to avoid hyperspace torpedoes. They were likely debating whether to attack or retreat, and what would happen to them if they retreated. Apophis had invested too much in this attack. By Goa'uld law, this meant I had become an enemy of the entire House, which had its advantages as well as its disadvantages. Deploying the combined forces of a House (or part of them) against a Goa'uld usually signified that that Goa'uld was quite influential.
This only happened in particularly brutal System Lord wars, especially when all the vassals (or the most important ones) were mobilized. This fact alone qualified me for the title of System Lord, as the forces deployed against me far exceeded those typically encountered in Goa'uld conflicts. The title of System Lord conveyed not only status, but also autonomy, the absence of any obligations. Essentially, I would become an independent state, capable of doing whatever I wanted. Not that I didn't already do it, but it would be official. It would also allow me to introduce my subordinates to the world, granting them titles, and begin integrating the children of Egeria into Goa'uld society once again. However, this would be quite difficult, as I remained a rather closed Goa'uld, rarely hiring.
We patiently awaited our enemies' decision. Unlike them, we were on our own soil. They began to be harassed by squadrons of fighters, flying in and launching missiles. It was nothing more than harassing fire, but it must have been unnerving. Small skirmishes lasted for several hours, with the enemy forces losing their pilots. They couldn't hold out for long due to problems with the ship's life support and food supplies. However, their aircraft were slowly destroyed in a series of short, bloody engagements, where my pilots demonstrated excellent training. In addition to anti-ship missiles, there were also anti-aircraft missiles, which came as a surprise to the Goa'uld. They were fast enough to mow down dozens of opponents on a collision course. Over time, the enemy commander stopped wasting his military potential and recalled his fighters. He simply moved through the system, avoiding missile platforms or minefields. Apparently, he really needed time to think. Well, I'm in no hurry, although Isara will be angry that I'm late for our dinner together. We're almost 20 years into our wedding anniversary.
It seems they finally reached some sort of agreement after a few hours and flew in a single group, apparently hoping to break through with a single ramming strike that could rip through the defenses. They're literally betting everything on victory. Our fleet began concentrating in one spot to withstand the attack, and readied all batteries for maximum fire.
The formation was cubic in order to transmit all possible firepower directly to the enemy, so that it would not be so easy for him.
Their fleet formed a wedge, a triangle, and a staggered formation to maximize the firepower of all their weapons. It was a strange formation, but I'm not the one to blame. I knew space combat, but I wasn't constantly in it. Perhaps they think they can counter full orbital defenses and space stations.
"Prepare to open fire with all weapons," McVay ordered over the shared network. Then a targeting reticle appeared on the leading ships attacking us.
- Fire!
Thousands of plasma bolts began to pound the enemy fleet. The first ships were obliterated in seconds, their shields rupturing and exploding. However, the following ships began to break through, returning fire. They tried to focus on the flagship. Tens of thousands of missiles flew. The abundance of jamming systems turned the entire region into soup, and communication was maintained only by laser. The chaos became absolute, and targeting was carried out by optical sensors. Ten Hattaks appeared near my flagship and began firing at the Kern. It began to respond and maneuver. Hundreds of missiles and plasma bolts focused fire, tearing ships apart. But at the same time, one of the ships attempted to ram. The ship's pilot managed to dodge, and the gunners fired a dozen powerful missiles at it. The shield cracked, and the guns simply tore apart the pyramid and the configuration.
"Our forces are suffering losses. Four Hattaks were lost due to concentrated fire. The crew managed to evacuate."
I nodded. Nearly every operator station now had a teleporter installed, which could save people from death in an emergency. Thank you, Ashens, and good luck in restoring normal civilization.
- Admiral, I think we should make them focus all their fire on us, using us as bait.
He accepted my proposal, and the flagship squadron launched a breakthrough, feigning a retreat. My Huttaks formed an attack formation to maximize fire, and all forces were focused on the attack. Thousands of shots merged into one again, destroying enemy ships one by one. We broke through to operational space, and the enemy dispatched some ships simply to catch us. Ten ships against fifty. This diverted a significant amount of forces. We would hold out. Parts of the orbital defense network began to suffer damage, and a dozen Huttaks began firing at Khasar Station, but it responded with great vigor, firing hundreds of missiles and plasma bolts.
Fifty Hattaks decided to follow our tactics and tried to focus their fire, but they couldn't. There was a discrepancy between their pilot and gunner, while my crews were united. Every maneuver was relayed to the gunners, who made appropriate adjustments. But my ships began to miss plasma bolts. Each ship fought five Hattaks. Every captain, every pilot, and every gunner performed their tasks at 210%. The crew of my flagship outdid themselves, directing 60 cannons at each of the five ships, firing with complete dedication, sparing no energy. The reactor was operating at a barely controllable overload. The shields were shrinking. Unfortunately, devices for directly boosting shields from the reactor hadn't yet been invented, which was a shame. However, it's worth preserving valuable specialists rather than worrying about pathetic technology.
One of the ships the Kern was firing at explodes in a cloud of shrapnel, then another. The other ships in my squadron performed just as well, but their shields were depleting faster. So, according to calculations, they can only destroy three of their five enemies. These aren't very optimistic figures; the plan needs to be adjusted. McVay is directing the entire fight. Orbital cannons are tearing apart enemy motherships, and Khasar Station has already blown up its sixth ship. Oh, finally, some idiots have bypassed all this carnage and headed straight for Urvashi, turning their cannons directly on my cities and starting firing. They must be very surprised when the shield gifted to me by the aces appears at the edge of the atmosphere. I can literally feel the shock of these idiots, but it doesn't last long. Hundreds of ground-based anti-aircraft guns fired in a single salvo, reducing the ships to rubble.
All the Huttaks that broke through would be destroyed by planetary defenses. And thousands of missiles were heading from the planet. I don't envy those ships, whose signatures on the vast holographic map began to fade one by one. Meanwhile, the fairest duel in the galaxy—five against one—continued. And those who dueled me were clearly losing. But then one of my modified Huttaks rammed. At the last moment, hundreds of teleportation beams connected to escort ships, which quickly evacuated the crews. Meanwhile, my Huttak continued firing, its automatic systems working. The shield fell, and the Huttak managed to trigger the reactor detonation, which destroyed two other Huttaks in a powerful explosion. Oh, that captain should get a promotion; he destroyed five Huttaks in that battle.
Once my flagship had dealt with its own enemies, we came to the aid of our ships, literally shielding the ship from shots that would have destroyed it. All the ship's upper weapons were aimed at the two bastards who dared to harm my Model II khattak. A hundred shots at a single target, and its shield vanished, along with the ship's bridge and engines. Then the flagship's commander took a real risk: he flew up to the wreck of the recently damaged ship, grabbed it with tractor beams, and hurled it into the neighboring khattak. I'm sure they weren't expecting that. The reactor detonation vaporized the target ship, after which my flagship flew off to help the others.
Eight minutes into the battle, and now there were only 12 enemy ships in front of me, while I had two, plus the flagship. And the shields were at 15%. There was no way we could defeat them.
— Admiral, I think we should activate the Sacrifice plan.
"Yes, that's true," he replied, already exiting the module. We teleported off the ship, finding ourselves on an escort ship.
Meanwhile, our ships flew forward. The enemy didn't notice the entire crew had been teleported. Twelve began firing at the three ships. However, they had no idea what was about to happen. Hundreds of multi-gigaton bombs detonated on my flagship, as did the other ships.
A second star appeared in space from the explosion. Three damaged ships took 12 Hattaks with them, and it was magical. Of course, the enemy commander might rejoice at having destroyed my flagship, but that's not the case. I traded them. Now the number of House Apophis ships is below 100. For one-seventh of my heavy forces, I took a quarter of the enemy forces. Now the balance of power was closer to one to two. A manageable situation, with part of the orbital defense network still operational.
Now we'd penetrated all the fire and teleported to one of the Hattaks, which was now becoming the flagship, from where McVay took command of the entire defense. The enemy ships' shields were eroding, the missile salvos were becoming increasingly intense, the attack was clearly stalling, and they no longer had a victory scenario. They could destroy my fleet, but they couldn't destroy my planet because of the planetary shield. Even with the fleet, however, it wasn't so certain. Thousands of Alkesh were active, attacking every ship without shields. They fired their weapons in concert, acting like wolf packs. The Hattaks continued to die; the forces of House Apophis no longer had any light aircraft. But I had thousands, depleting the shields with their own missiles. The battle became a melee, and some ships began to retreat, although this did not help them much, as they were tormented by crescent-shaped corvettes and frigates that fired plasma cannons and heavy missiles.
No boarding, there's no time now. As soon as the shield drops, anything explosive flies straight at the enemy bridge. I'm not even sure if the enemy commander is alive or dead. The disposition of forces was as follows: my ships were stationed around the Khasar station, and it expanded its energy field to cover the allies. It was holding up very well. It was very helpful that I had thrown out everything unnecessary from the station, and it now has the most powerful generators possible, as well as one of the Goa'uld Eyes, or more precisely, the Eye of Osiris. Which I found on one of the planets from Osiris's personal list of planets. So now this station is a very powerful defensive platform, covering 50 Hattaks with its shield. And they diverted all their fire to their cannons, accelerating them to white-hot speed.
The Goa'uld concentrated their entire fleet's fire on the station, or rather, on its shields, which were rapidly depleting. However, this came at the cost of a steadily diminishing fleet: the Huttaks were exploding constantly. The station's shields were down. Only the shields of my heavy ships had time to recharge and replenish their missile magazines via the teleportation system. The guidance systems locked onto the targets and launched a general salvo—heavy missiles headed toward the enemy. These missiles were equipped with neural network systems that could maneuver alongside the ships attempting to evade the explosive payload.
They also communicated constantly with each other, allowing them to concentrate their fire on the ships even if their target had been destroyed. In short, they didn't lose their nerve in the heat of battle. The Goa'uld, however, seeing the salvo of these missiles, as well as the return plasma fire, immediately began maneuvering. But there were no anti-missiles or railgun ammunition, so they simply tried to deflect the highly maneuverable missiles with plasma. Well, that was a pretty stupid decision. Each of these missiles was multi-gigaton, although when shot down, it still didn't explode with its full force. The detonator was armed some time before impact. This ensured safety.
The final stage of the battle had arrived, because it was now 50 ships against 50. Only my ships were much superior, with their shields already recharged and already firing a full salvo. The missiles were tearing through the shields, and the plasma was adding to that. My ships were attacking in groups of 10, concentrating their fire on a single ship. Ultimately, five Goa'uld battleships were exploding every 30 seconds. The return fire from the missiles was uncoordinated and incredibly stupid. They should have retreated long ago, as it was already clear they weren't up to the task, but they fought stubbornly, afraid to appear before Apophis with such a setback. And if they continue to be such idiots, there won't be any enemy fleet over my planet in five minutes.
It's good that the shield can muffle flashes of light; those explosions burned out a lot of people's eyes. Automatic polarization is good.
"They want to retreat," McVeigh told me over the rapid-fire system.
Yes, only when I was left with 30 ships out of two hundred did a suspicious thought creep into Apophis's house: it was time to flee, because they would all die here. Just to enter hyperspace, I needed to at least drop the shields and divert all energy to the hyperdrive. It's not very convenient when corvettes and alkesh are prowling nearby, moving at high speed, just waiting to unleash a powerful missile on someone, lest life seem like a bed of roses. The classic retreat maneuver is to close the distance, but my ships' shields were at 60%, so they could begin a counterattack, delivering full-scale linear fire on selected targets. They went from concentrating fire on a single ship by multiple ships to a duel situation, where one ship took on the task of destroying another ship of a similar class.
"Offer them to surrender; we need to compensate for their losses somehow. If not, destroy them."
The surrender message was ignored. Several ships attempted to jump to hyperspace and exploded as missiles immediately struck them, ripping apart their propulsion systems, before being finished off with plasma cannons. They tried to flee in different directions, but were pursued by battleships and escort ships, which constantly pressed on their shields. Of the entire armada that had come to me, only 15 ships remained. I'd lost 21 ships, which was annoying; it took me a long time to build them. And it reduces the number of ships available to me when Ra died. A bit annoying.
Enemy ships tried to flee under constant pressure. Shields were easily blown away, and the hulls of the ships exploded, disabling them. It was already possible to use landing forces when they were immobilized. My engineers also created Atlas-class walkers from Mass Effect, with a slightly modified layout. They fit into standard rings, allowing them to navigate levels, so now the Jaffa were getting acquainted with something interesting.
Functionally, they were the Space Marine dreadnoughts from Warhammer: they were armed with a powerful plasma cannon on their backs, a rotary plasma rapid-fire weapon against infantry, and a manipulator resembling a human hand for more precise manipulation. Now they were being tested during boarding. I pity these Jaffa, although no, they came to kill my planet, let them all die. Every last one, because I will come to their planets, and they will all feel my wrath. I'm not going to forgive this.
On the tactical map, the red Hattaks, representing enemy forces, turned blue and flew back toward our formations. This meant they were being captured. But the fact that the flagship was trying to escape and refused to surrender was somewhat irritating. It couldn't go into hyperspace; it would quickly be overwhelmed by a large amount of plasma fire, but it also didn't want to surrender, apparently remembering how I promised to kill the fleet commander. Although this isn't even a fleet; by some classifications, it's a combined naval force. Still, 200 ships is no joke. Sure, there are tens of thousands of Hattaks flying around the galaxy, but they don't fly anymore; they guard planets. Major battles are rare.
Apophis and the Elder Lords are working against me; the rest of Apophis's children "slightly" don't care about me. More precisely, they simply cannot afford to dedicate any forces to confront me, otherwise, the House's rivals would immediately take advantage. Ra could have ensured that Apophis was left untouched by the other System Lords, but the Goa'uld love only themselves and will fight anyone and as much as they want. Including their Housemates. Therefore, despite the fact that the combined forces of Apophis and the High Lords amount to 1,300 Huttaks, they sent only 200, so as not to weaken their own forces too much. Roughly speaking, they each allocated one-fifth of their forces. These are rounded figures.
— The enemy flagship's shield has fallen. Sending drop pods.
The hologram showed drop pods piercing the hull, then walkers teleporting in and breaking through any barriers. They were followed by Space Marines, who quickly took control of all the ship's vital systems, killing anyone they encountered.
— Incoming transmission.
I opened it. It was the enemy commander, who had lost much of his polish and was very frightened.
— I surrender! But I want my life to be guaranteed.
"My word. You can leave through the chapa'ai wherever you want," I quickly agree. While killing him would be therapeutic, it's important to maintain my reputation. Specifically, regarding the fact that I don't kill enemies who surrender and always let them go. Reputation is a difficult thing, and it's maintained precisely in cases like these, when you really want to break someone's neck, but you shouldn't. Of course, there will be no prisoner exchanges, because no one has any of my prisoners, but a certain degree of nobility will compel the Goa'uld to surrender to me. So some inconvenience is worth enduring for the sake of reputation.
- Then I give up!
I called off my Space Marines to stop them from killing everyone.
"Surrender to my Jaffa, after which you will be taken to the planet and led to the device. After which you can choose any gate address. I doubt you and your officers want to meet Apophis. So go with your honor, House, and far away."
After which he switched off.
- He can tell you about the planetary shield.
"Without sensor data, they're unlikely to believe him. And even if they do, I repelled such a massive offensive that everyone will think twice before attacking." I said "repelled an offensive" in the political sense, not the practical one. My admiral was in charge of everything. Politically, I'm the head of the Domain, so I have certain privileges, such as not answering awkward questions about where I got this technology and whether I can share it. The answer will be very obvious—Asgard technology from the war; I found it on an abandoned planet and took it home. I can't study it because it's my artifact, and I can't produce it on a regular basis, and the Goa'uld hold artifacts in high regard.
When the last enemy ship turned blue, the ship crews started logging out of the unified combat information network, simply rejoicing at the fact that they'd earned undying glory. Now the propaganda department will have to render a bunch of viewpoints to showcase my power in the best possible light, because technically, I only lost five ships and the flagship irrevocably. I spent more time on crew evacuation plans than on weapons. After all, people are a resource, and Apophis gave me fifteen Hattaks, albeit battered ones.
And a bunch of junk that can be recycled and turned into new ships. So I still have a slight advantage, and the next idiot who throws troops at me will face strong resistance. And now they even know the level of this resistance: if 200 ships destroyed only 20 of mine (it's worth clarifying that this was a defensive formation), then to destroy my ships it would take three times as many forces – 600 ships. Although this isn't actually true: 600 ships would crush my entire fleet, it's simply the banal logic of the Goa'uld, who are good at politics but often think like civilians in military matters. 300 ships would probably have been enough to destroy me, if I hadn't started throwing teraton batteries at them.
Well, now the space battle is over. Now I need to do something about those bastards who started attacking me. Too bad I can't kill the bastard because of Teal'c and Bra'tac. Well, finally, a little Hydra uprising will begin. I found it funny when the first Marvel Comics comics came out; many people thought I bought them. First of all, yes, I bought them, or rather, financed them. Secondly, it's genuinely funny and raises so many questions about how the universe works. Thirdly, it's just fun.