This. The Grand Slam was WWII tech, and pretty damn good for it's time. I pointed it out to show that air-delivered bunkerbusters aren't exactly a new thought, but the MOP is what you'd use to breach the walls of the city. Or a nuke, of course...JN1 wrote:AFAIK fin rounds will just bore nice neat little holes in the wall and might not even penetrate all the way through. Penetrating weapons containing high explosive, like the Storm Shadow with its BROACH warhead, might be better.Nematocyst wrote:The logistics required for those are exorbitant, even today.
It's cheaper to just pump the wall full of APFSDS.
The British Army does still have one 18inch howitzer on a proof mounting at Larkhill. During WW2 there were plans to move 13.5inch guns and the two 18inch guns to France and Italy to deal with German fortifications and concrete penetrating shells were designed, though logistics issues meant that the deployment never took place.
A recent article on the last surviving 18inch howitzer, which is the largest surviving railway gun, gave me the idea. However bomber delivered weapons and tac nukes do trump it.
Thinking about the Grand Slam I'm not sure what bombers could potentially deliver it. The BUFF and BONE might be able to, depends on the configuration of their bomb bays. The Victor can carry one, or two of the smaller Tallboys, though no Victors are in service as bombers, and the Vulcan can't carry either the Grand Slam, or Tallboy.
If there are still any B-36s being used they can certainly carry the Grand Slam or the T-12 Cloudmaker. Alternatively there is always the Massive Ordnance Penetrator.
The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Eighty One Up
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Well, didn't we hear earlier that that BBMF had been raided for its aircraft? Given that they have a Lancaster, and a Lanc is the only aircraft I'm aware of that carried the Grand Slam into combat, that would seem to be a good option It would even fit Michael's choir's choice of music.JN1 wrote: Thinking about the Grand Slam I'm not sure what bombers could potentially deliver it. The BUFF and BONE might be able to, depends on the configuration of their bomb bays. The Victor can carry one, or two of the smaller Tallboys, though no Victors are in service as bombers, and the Vulcan can't carry either the Grand Slam, or Tallboy.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Would have been so cool if Yahweh got killed by a Tallboy or a Grand Slam (since both were Wallis' work) when the Dambusters theme started. Oh well.Werrf wrote:Well, didn't we hear earlier that that BBMF had been raided for its aircraft? Given that they have a Lancaster, and a Lanc is the only aircraft I'm aware of that carried the Grand Slam into combat, that would seem to be a good option It would even fit Michael's choir's choice of music.JN1 wrote: Thinking about the Grand Slam I'm not sure what bombers could potentially deliver it. The BUFF and BONE might be able to, depends on the configuration of their bomb bays. The Victor can carry one, or two of the smaller Tallboys, though no Victors are in service as bombers, and the Vulcan can't carry either the Grand Slam, or Tallboy.
ARGUMENT FROM GUITAR MASTERY OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
(1) Eric Clapton is God.
(2) Therefore, God exists.
(1) Eric Clapton is God.
(2) Therefore, God exists.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
People, people, there's no need to argue between bombers and artillery! Clearly, the intelligent solution is to build a large bomber and stick some 800mm artillery guns on top of it! Be creative!
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Alternately, you could build an artillery gun that shoots bombers, but the supply train would be a nightmare.
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Think about it.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Wow, you guys, just *wow*...
ARGUMENT FROM GUITAR MASTERY OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
(1) Eric Clapton is God.
(2) Therefore, God exists.
(1) Eric Clapton is God.
(2) Therefore, God exists.
Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
And here I thought you were going to say both. Although that russian idea of filling a bomber's bay with ppsh's was pretty damn funny, it's much simpler to let gravity do the work.The Vortex Empire wrote:People, people, there's no need to argue between bombers and artillery! Clearly, the intelligent solution is to build a large bomber and stick some 800mm artillery guns on top of it! Be creative!
Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Okay, that was hilarious. Kudos goes to you.The Vortex Empire wrote:People, people, there's no need to argue between bombers and artillery! Clearly, the intelligent solution is to build a large bomber and stick some 800mm artillery guns on top of it! Be creative!
If we wanted to get really ridiculous we could have the bombers drop/launch a load of fighter jets or parachute down some light tanks instead of as well as bombs.
Stick a YAL-1 laser on there somewhere for good measure.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
I believe one J. Walter Christie could help you out with that second idea, but I'll let this article speak for itself.MGlBlaze wrote: If we wanted to get really ridiculous we could have the bombers drop/launch a load of fighter jets or parachute down some light tanks instead of as well as bombs.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
As opposed to what SilverHawk said? OK, I see.TimothyC wrote:What Stuart meant is that the M2 Bradley is protected against 25mm APDS rounds which are over ten times as massive and 10 times as fast as an angelic arrow.
Either way though, the point remains that I did not claim that an arrow, no matter how large, could make an effective weapon against anything but the flimsiest vehicles. Again, maybe a Humvee. Nothing that anyone might mistake for a tank.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Drat. You've got me thinking about testing a humvee to destruction versus a barrage from ballistae, or possibly from a polybolos. It would make a good video... the only tricky thing would be how to drive it (some kind of remote control device, a la James Bond, perhaps).Simon_Jester wrote:As opposed to what SilverHawk said? OK, I see.TimothyC wrote:What Stuart meant is that the M2 Bradley is protected against 25mm APDS rounds which are over ten times as massive and 10 times as fast as an angelic arrow.
Either way though, the point remains that I did not claim that an arrow, no matter how large, could make an effective weapon against anything but the flimsiest vehicles. Again, maybe a Humvee. Nothing that anyone might mistake for a tank.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Why not just set up a robot with a pair of legs (for the gas and brake pedals), an arm or two for the steering wheel, and a camera head? That's if you need the Humvee to be mobile at all, mind you.Deebles wrote:Drat. You've got me thinking about testing a humvee to destruction versus a barrage from ballistae, or possibly from a polybolos. It would make a good video... the only tricky thing would be how to drive it (some kind of remote control device, a la James Bond, perhaps).Simon_Jester wrote:As opposed to what SilverHawk said? OK, I see.TimothyC wrote:What Stuart meant is that the M2 Bradley is protected against 25mm APDS rounds which are over ten times as massive and 10 times as fast as an angelic arrow.
Either way though, the point remains that I did not claim that an arrow, no matter how large, could make an effective weapon against anything but the flimsiest vehicles. Again, maybe a Humvee. Nothing that anyone might mistake for a tank.
Note re: "arrows versus vehicle armor" -- did everyone forget that back in Armageddon, British (at al Badiyah al Janubiyah) and Russian (at the Phlegethon River) were literally machine gunning each other to drive off harpies?
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
That was coax on tanks.
And HUMANITY said: "it is our duty, not as men or women, not as black or white, but as HUMANS, to defend our species from utter annihilation and damnation. These Beings that for so long believed themselves masters of our destiny finally dropped their facade. HUMANITY will, as one, declare WAR on them. HUMANITY is master of its' own destiny. And we will fight to the last"
Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
What's that quote from, Nematocyst?
It looks like something I'd see in Salvation War, except I'm quite certain it isn't from there. There was never any real question of fighting to the least, either, against an enemy that didn't even force us to use nukes..
It looks like something I'd see in Salvation War, except I'm quite certain it isn't from there. There was never any real question of fighting to the least, either, against an enemy that didn't even force us to use nukes..
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Yeah, I already know of all the bombs you can possibly think of. But I wasen't thinking of artillery, I was thinking more about Howitzers. You know, specifically designed for direct fire against hardened targets and all that.Yeah, about that... Grand Slam Bomb.
All of that stuff has been thought off, LONG ago. Bombers still trump artillery for that kind of stuff...
But I guess the F-111F could come back and have fun with the GBU-28 like it did in the Gulf. Or the B-2/B-1 could drop the MOP.
You have the GRB-36D, which could deploy a F-84F Thunderstreak from it's bomb bay, it would be a simple reconversion to have it drop bombs instead of having camera suites. Then you could use the C-130, have it drop BLU-82 and then shove a M-551 Sheridan out the back.If we wanted to get really ridiculous we could have the bombers drop/launch a load of fighter jets or parachute down some light tanks instead of as well as bombs.
Stick a YAL-1 laser on there somewhere for good measure.
The Bradley couldn't stop 25mm rounds until it's A2 upgrade. Hence, why I thought he was speaking of the M2HB, which any Bradley can stop. But I seriously doubt any type of arrow could harm a Humvee with the FRAG 6 package.As opposed to what SilverHawk said? OK, I see.
Either way though, the point remains that I did not claim that an arrow, no matter how large, could make an effective weapon against anything but the flimsiest vehicles. Again, maybe a Humvee. Nothing that anyone might mistake for a tank.
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Michelangelo is a Party Dude!
But see, we invite him over for dinner and then he goes, "I stole your Nuclear Secrets." Then nobody feels like having apple pie. - Myself, on Joseph Stalin
Michelangelo is a Party Dude!
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Mine.Baughn wrote:What's that quote from, Nematocyst?
It looks like something I'd see in Salvation War, except I'm quite certain it isn't from there. There was never any real question of fighting to the least, either, against an enemy that didn't even force us to use nukes..
It was inspired by McElroy's speech in chapter 67, in turn inspired by a post in the original thread that sparked TSW.
And HUMANITY said: "it is our duty, not as men or women, not as black or white, but as HUMANS, to defend our species from utter annihilation and damnation. These Beings that for so long believed themselves masters of our destiny finally dropped their facade. HUMANITY will, as one, declare WAR on them. HUMANITY is master of its' own destiny. And we will fight to the last"
Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Jan, I think that part of your point regarding an 18" weapon is that it exists, though some at least refurbishment would be needed to put it into action again for Queen and Country. The German weapons don't. I am not aware of any current capacity to construct such tubes, whether for naval or land use. The infrastructure is grossly expensive. See Gene Slover's articles on the construction of large calibre naval; tubes on NavWeaps, for instance.JN1 wrote:AFAIK fin rounds will just bore nice neat little holes in the wall and might not even penetrate all the way through. Penetrating weapons containing high explosive, like the Storm Shadow with its BROACH warhead, might be better.Nematocyst wrote:The logistics required for those are exorbitant, even today.
It's cheaper to just pump the wall full of APFSDS.
The British Army does still have one 18inch howitzer on a proof mounting at Larkhill. During WW2 there were plans to move 13.5inch guns and the two 18inch guns to France and Italy to deal with German fortifications and concrete penetrating shells were designed, though logistics issues meant that the deployment never took place.
A recent article on the last surviving 18inch howitzer, which is the largest surviving railway gun, gave me the idea. However bomber delivered weapons and tac nukes do trump it.
Thinking about the Grand Slam I'm not sure what bombers could potentially deliver it. The BUFF and BONE might be able to, depends on the configuration of their bomb bays. The Victor can carry one, or two of the smaller Tallboys, though no Victors are in service as bombers, and the Vulcan can't carry either the Grand Slam, or Tallboy.
If there are still any B-36s being used they can certainly carry the Grand Slam or the T-12 Cloudmaker. Alternatively there is always the Massive Ordnance Penetrator.
The B-36 is perfect for such large bombs, having carried two such devices for a total bombload of over 80k lbs. Otherwise, unless the Russians have something, the Bone is the best bet, having gotten rid of the limitation treaty's restrictions.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
I prefer the B-52 to be honest, over the B-1, for it's superior ECM capability and the ability to defend itself from attacks with it's M61. (Now all removed, but the H's could have all their Vulcans reinstalled if needed.) But considering the enemy and the target, the B-1 would be better suited with it's ability to carry an extra 55K lbs of bombs.
If you are going through Hell, keep going. - Winston Churchill
Michelangelo is a Party Dude!
But see, we invite him over for dinner and then he goes, "I stole your Nuclear Secrets." Then nobody feels like having apple pie. - Myself, on Joseph Stalin
Michelangelo is a Party Dude!
But see, we invite him over for dinner and then he goes, "I stole your Nuclear Secrets." Then nobody feels like having apple pie. - Myself, on Joseph Stalin
Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
As an aside, would StarStreak missiles be a one shot angel kill? (Compared to the multi-shot AIM and AIR) Just think a cluster of 3 mach 3.5 tungsten penetrators with a 1 pound warhead designed to explode inside the target, instead of near the target, combined with the Thor launcher that can track people on the ground. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ln7-VvFn4iE
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
An Angel got a 20 pound HE round in his chest and he would've been able to compensate. Unfortunately for him, a lot more were coming.
So, you'd need a lot of Starstreaks...
Granted, that Angel was an Ophanim. But still, Angels are tougher than a plane of similar size.
So, you'd need a lot of Starstreaks...
Granted, that Angel was an Ophanim. But still, Angels are tougher than a plane of similar size.
And HUMANITY said: "it is our duty, not as men or women, not as black or white, but as HUMANS, to defend our species from utter annihilation and damnation. These Beings that for so long believed themselves masters of our destiny finally dropped their facade. HUMANITY will, as one, declare WAR on them. HUMANITY is master of its' own destiny. And we will fight to the last"
Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Nematocyst wrote:An Angel got a 20 pound HE round in his chest and he would've been able to compensate. Unfortunately for him, a lot more were coming.
So, you'd need a lot of Starstreaks...
Granted, that Angel was an Ophanim. But still, Angels are tougher than a plane of similar size.
hmm true, just thought it had a 'nice' combination of kinetic energy, multiple hits, and explosives :p
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
I thought that Angel (trying to remember who it was, are you talking about one of the Bowl of Wrath pourers?) seemed to be larger than the rank and file.
Turns out that a five way cross over between It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, the Ali G Show, Fargo, Idiocracy and Veep is a lot less funny when you're actually living in it.
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Four Up
Angelic Treatment Ward, Bethesda Naval Hospital, Bethesda, MD
"What do either of you know about cancer?" Doctor Zinder asked the two angels in the ward.
Lemuel and Maion exchanged bewildered glances. "What's cancer?" Lemuel answered for them both.
Zinder frowned, it was a strange reminder of the fact that the two angels were from a different universe. "Strange growths on or in the body. They grow out of control and will kill the victim unless treated. And treatment can be very difficult indeed. You've never heard of things like that?"
Both angels shook their heads. Again, it was Lemuel who answered. "Never. In all the millennia I have been in the Eternal City, I cannot recall anything like that. We are as we have always been, perfection."
"I doubt that very much." Zinder tried to hide his annoyance at the unwitting arrogance of Lemuel's reply. "The absence of cancers is remarkable. Your healing capability should make you more vulnerable to them. Obviously there is something about your physiology we don’t understand yet. No matter. We'll sort it out. We're not perfection, just smart." Zinder took an unprofessional delight in the jab but to his disappointment it didn’t seem to register with either angel.
"Why do you ask about this thing." Maion was confused and slightly disappointed. Behind her, the stumps of her amputated wings were changing, slowly morphing into a new set, wings that were but miniature reproductions of her original pair but ones that enlarged every day. She had been hoping to show them off.
"We took out one of your formations, some 50,000 angels and five times that many humans. The weapon we used killed most of them but many of the survivors have developed skin cancers. The victims are being covered in them. We've tried cutting them out, but they grow back even faster. We've tried every thing in our arsenal, chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, to beat the cancers and we've failed. Frankly, you two were our last hope. We thought you might know something that might help. Without a few new leads, we're out of ideas and that means our patients won’t make it."
"The Incomparable Legion of Light? Gone?" Lemuel could hardly believe what he had just heard. He knew that was the unit ordered to attack the human invasion but that was all. Yahweh's own personal guard gone? By a single weapon?
"Was that what it was called? No matter. It's gone." Zinder was slightly irritated again. He wasn't really interested in what had happened except in as much as it affected his patients. "I believe the Army nuked it. We think the sleet of radiation from the blast is the cause of the skin cancers. The oncologists believe it mutated the DNA in the victims so your rebuilding mechanisms have gone out of control."
Lemuel and Maion looked at each other again in confusion. That almost caused Zinder to grin openly. These angels might think they are perfection but they know less science than a human seven year old. Then he decided to try something. "Perhaps Michael-Lan might know more?"
Lemuel answered very carefully. "Ah yes, Michael-Lan. There is much I wish to discuss with my old friend Michael."
Hill 331, Overlooking the Western Wall of the Eternal City. Heaven
The ZBD-97 platoon was parked in the trees that covered the crest of the hill. The scouts had left them and moved forward so that they could overlook the massive city that lay below them. Captain Tao Gan had very specific orders from his command, orders that did not eventually trace back to H.E.A. supreme command. He had followed those orders exactly. His reconnaissance platoon had slipped through the countryside with all the stealth that four armored personnel carriers could muster. He had avoided contact with enemy forces, steered clear of population centers and done everything else to make sure that his presence on this hill was undetected. From this hill he could see as far into the Eternal City as was possible. The Chinese People's Liberation Army didn’t have the wealth of equipment than the Americans did but they now had an asset in place that could substitute human eyes for remote-controlled aircraft.
The Americans had promised that all the information they gathered would be shared out but the CPLA commanders had been suspicious. Perhaps that was the wrong word Tao Gan thought. Cautious might be better. With his unit here on the hill, they had a way of checking whether the information the Americans sent them was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
"Sir, look at this." The voice from his 3rd-Level NCO was barely a whisper. The staff sergeant had been operating a pair of tripod-mounted surveillance binoculars, a set far too large and heavy to be lifted by hand. Tao Gan slid over to his position and looked through the binoculars. A slight adjustment of the focus was necessary to bring the street scene into sharp relief. Once done, he could see the angels in the street. Most of them were standing still, staring in the direction of the far-off city center. They seemed strangely motionless, as if they were in some form of trance. Or so terrified by what they saw that they were incapable of motion. Tao Gan's thought spurred his next decision. He needed to report back to Corps HQ.
The Ultimate Temple, Heaven
Michael-Lan felt the first beginnings of fear darken his mind. Even with the support of his network, he was only just barely surviving the barrage of electric bolts that enveloped him. Yahweh had given up talking to him or trying to persuade him to drop his guard. Now, he was relying on sheer brute force to batter down Michael's defenses and crush him out of existence. The non-stop onslaught was wearing Michael down. He could feel his legs weakening and it was all he could do to stop himself staggering. He was actually using some of the power drawn from his allies to keep standing firm and erect. It was a vicious cycle and he knew it. The more power he used for that purpose, the less he could feed into his defensive shell. That meant more of Yahweh's attacks reached him and weakened him still further. That meant he would have to use still more power to stand tall.
Michael caught himself, his momentary inattention had caused him to slip slightly, to begin the twisting fall that would end with him helpless on the ground. He chanced a brief glance at Yahweh, seeing with relief that his brief lapse had gone unnoticed. Then, to his intense relief, the grinding assault slackened and faded. He, Michael-Lan, had survived another confrontation with Yahweh's raw power. His senses reached out, feeling for the reserves of power that Yahweh still had in store and noting grimly how far they exceeded his own. He sucked the cold, ozone-tainted air into his starved lungs, feeling it rasp at the raw lining of his throat as he breathed in. His mind reached out, embracing all those of his network, all those whom he had lured into his net. His plan had worked, he had allies when Yahweh had none. He knew how to draw on their power with maximum efficiency while Yahweh did not. He understood economy of force while Yahweh was profligate with his power. And yet, for all that, Michael-Lan knew that he was slowly losing this fight. For a moment despair seized him. He felt it cloud his mind and the treacherous realization of just how easy it would be to give up and let go started to coil into his consciousness.
Michael looked up and saw the vindictive half-smile on Yahweh's face. That told him where those treacherous thoughts had come from. Yahweh hadn't slackened his assault, he had simply changed one mode for another. For a brief second, Michael wished he had one of the hats that humans had taken to wearing, the ones that protected them against the mind-deceptions of the daemons. It would do him no good of course. The hats only protected humans against daemonic mind-entering powers and incompletely at that. Those tinfoil hats were of no use against a being with Yahweh's power. Now if I had one of their tanks . . . . . The thought of him sitting in a human tank, suitably enlarged of course, made Michael snort with laughter. And that wiped the smile off his face.
"What's the matter Yah-yah? Getting weaker and feebler? You know, you should be grateful for me taking over. Gives you a chance to take a nice holiday. Why don’t you take a tour? I hear the other side of the Minos Gate is nice this time of year." Michael stepped sideways suddenly. It was nothing to do with Yahweh's response to his gibe, simply a large slab of marble had become detached from the ceiling and its fall was just a touch too close for comfort.
"I will crush your very soul from existence for this treachery." Yahweh's voice could have been used to grind rocks such was the grating venom loaded into each syllable.
"Now that's a good question." Michael tried to keep his voice light and goading despite the tiredness that consumed every muscle he had. "Can you actually do that? You couldn't do it to The Morningstar and his resistance didn't last this long. You know, old chap, I really don’t think you have it in you any more."
Michael actually missed Yahweh's reply to that for the music in his earpiece had changed again. Now, it was Wagner's Ride of the Valkyrie. As the massed bands poured the music out, the stirring score caused Michael to wonder if the old Norse gods were actually coming to his aid. Is that the message they are sending me? Reinforcements would be very welcome at this point. But the Aesir had retreated from Earth long ago, back to their own bubble world. Why should they help Michael who had commanded the armies that forced their abandonment of the Earth? Anyway, the human bandleaders didn’t know that little bit of history.
Still the changed music helped and Michael felt his spirits lift. Just in time for Yahweh chose that moment to launch yet another blast of raw power against him. Michael-Lan's defenses were up but they crumpled under the massive blow, allowing the energy to pour in towards him. He threw every last shred of power he could scrape up into the breach, saw the flood of multicolored light grind to a halt a few bare inches before it had contacted him. He sweated, breathed deeply, summoning the tiny reserve of power he had, feeling the muscles in his legs weaken as he did so. But, Yahweh's fireball was pushed back, the gap around Michael widening slowly, fraction of an inch by fraction of an inch until enough of a safety margin existed to allow him some tiny comfort. For all that, he knew this was the end. He had thrown everything he had unto the battle. He had nothing left. Soon, his power would run out and it would all be over.
In the background, outside the consciousness of the immediate struggle, Michael-Lan-Michael heard a familiar banging noise. It took a second for it to register then its identity hit him. It was the sound of the doors to the Throne Room opening and then slamming shut. He was also aware of something else. He now had a power reserve, a tiny one for certain but one that was growing. Grimly holding the line against Yahweh's furious assault, Michael sneaked a look through the scintillating globes of power towards the door.
Leilah-Lan had entered the room. Not just entered it, but made an entrance. She'd dyed her wing feathers black and was wearing her full dominatrix outfit. She strode across the throne room floor, the heels of her boots clicking on the marble as she turned and stood beside Michael, her face screwed up with concentration as she tried to pour power into him. Michael felt Yahweh's assault slacken and fail with the sheer shock of what had just happened. Leilah-Lan in full professional outfit was something this throne room had never seen before.
"What are you doing here? I told you to get ready to run if this failed."
"You did. You seem to forget Michael, I don't take orders very well." She chanced a quick grin at him.
"You're mad. . . . ." Michael's words were cut off by the doors banging again. Charmeine, Raphael and Gabriel walked in, striding across the rubble-covered floor to take up position around Michael. "All of you."
"Grateful isn't he." Charmeine-Lan spoke lightly in the silence that had followed their entrance. "And us flying all the way here in a thunderstorm just for him."
"What's happening at the Club?" Michael was actually at a loss for words. He had assumed his inner circle would make a run for it if he lost. Their decision to come here and stand with him, he just hadn’t seen that coming.
"The humans are running it. We explained what was going on and why. Told them what we wanted to achieve. What you were trying to do and what you were risking to do it. So, they took over there. Glen's officially in charge by the way. That freed us up to come here. They aren't leaving either by the way. They're going to keep playing until we win or Yahweh pulls the roof down on their heads. More of our high-ranking clients are on their way here . . . . ."
"Get ready." Michael suddenly remembered why he was here and what the battle with Yahweh was like. "Yah-yah's got a habit of throwing attacks without warning."
"Nasty of him." Leilah-Lan sounded most disapproving. "I'll have to . . . . . . ."
She was interrupted by a massive blast of power from Yahweh. This time, the response was different. With his most trusted allies around him, Michael didn’t have to worry about drawing power from his network. They were pouring it into him and the difference was more than significant. This time, he stalled the blast half way towards him and held it there. The pressure was immense but for the first time since the battle began, he felt as if he was in control of the situation. He was aware of something else as well. The choir outside the room were no longer singing hymns of praise. They were singing in tune with the broadcast from the Montmartre Club.
That was when Michael felt his power slacken slightly. Leilah had pulled herself out of the net, stepped slightly to one side and hurled all the energy she could muster at Yahweh. The discharge cracked with a flat vicious noise as she followed it with her whip. It flailed across the room and struck Yahweh full in the chest. The lash pushed him hard back against the throne and sent splinters of marble flying through the air. It was a one-time trick-pony shot and Michael knew it but, once again, Yahweh's poor power management had left him open to it. For a few seconds, his assault stopped and the blast of power from Michael flooded across the room and besieged Yahweh in his throne. Leilah had slumped to her knees, exhausted by the effort needed to generate the blast but she had made a historic mark, one that would never be forgotten in Heaven. For she, an Erelim, had managed to attack and hurt Yahweh. From within the shield of energy that surrounded them, Charmeine reached out and pulled her into the protection of the energy barrier.
For a moment, the initiative was in Michael's hands. He poured power at Yahweh, exhausting himself and his allies in the process, but he had Yahweh on the defensive at last. Now it was Yahweh who was struggling to hold back the assault, it was Yahweh who was fighting to prevent the energy breaking through and crushing him. Concentrating on managing the assault, Michael was only dimly aware of other angels from his club entering the room and joining the group around him. He just felt their energy joining his and supporting the streams of power that mixed and blasted inside the shattered throne room.
Never in the memories of anybody present had there been anything like the displays that now saturated the throne room. The scintillating, interacting arcs of light had gone far beyond white and multicolor. Now they shimmered with iridescent hues beyond the imagination of those watching in awe. The confrontation left that between Yahweh and the Morningstar pallid by comparison, pallid and lackluster for the brilliance of the light battle was enough to blind those unprepared for it. Just as Michael had clawed his way back from the brink of defeat just a few minutes earlier, now Yahweh tried to do the same. He also poured power into his defense and saw the assault on him slowly forced back. Watching him, Michael realized that, for the first time in uncountable millennia, Yahweh was actually running out of energy.
The battle was deadlocked. The two great shimmering walls of light energy were stationary in the middle of the room, their interface twisting with wild, unknowable colors and were beyond any mind to describe. Neither side could disengage now, both were locked in a death-grapple that could only end with the defeat and utter destruction of one. Or both thought Michael. That's an outcome I hadn't considered before. He looked behind him and saw another thing he had not expected. There was a disturbance around the entrance to the mason's bunker, now stained, blackened and scarred by the battle. The mason himself pulled free of the crowd inside and walked across the room to stand with Michael and his allies. The added energy pushed the wall a little bit further back towards Yahweh
Michael-Lan-Michael looked around, quickly assessing the situation. Leilah-Lan was back on her feet, tapping the palm of her left hand with her riding crop as she poured her recovering energy reserves into the battle. He had more than a dozen allies around him now, including at least five Chayot Ha Kodesh of the first and second degrees. For all that, he still hadn't quite got the edge to finish off Yahweh. They were evenly balanced, Yahweh on one side, Michael and his allies on the other and that was it.
There was one question Michael needed to know the answer to. That one question would be decisive in the titanic struggle that was now reaching its conclusion. Michael asked it of himself time and time again, his mind searching desperately for the answer. How would the humans handle this situation?
"What do either of you know about cancer?" Doctor Zinder asked the two angels in the ward.
Lemuel and Maion exchanged bewildered glances. "What's cancer?" Lemuel answered for them both.
Zinder frowned, it was a strange reminder of the fact that the two angels were from a different universe. "Strange growths on or in the body. They grow out of control and will kill the victim unless treated. And treatment can be very difficult indeed. You've never heard of things like that?"
Both angels shook their heads. Again, it was Lemuel who answered. "Never. In all the millennia I have been in the Eternal City, I cannot recall anything like that. We are as we have always been, perfection."
"I doubt that very much." Zinder tried to hide his annoyance at the unwitting arrogance of Lemuel's reply. "The absence of cancers is remarkable. Your healing capability should make you more vulnerable to them. Obviously there is something about your physiology we don’t understand yet. No matter. We'll sort it out. We're not perfection, just smart." Zinder took an unprofessional delight in the jab but to his disappointment it didn’t seem to register with either angel.
"Why do you ask about this thing." Maion was confused and slightly disappointed. Behind her, the stumps of her amputated wings were changing, slowly morphing into a new set, wings that were but miniature reproductions of her original pair but ones that enlarged every day. She had been hoping to show them off.
"We took out one of your formations, some 50,000 angels and five times that many humans. The weapon we used killed most of them but many of the survivors have developed skin cancers. The victims are being covered in them. We've tried cutting them out, but they grow back even faster. We've tried every thing in our arsenal, chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, to beat the cancers and we've failed. Frankly, you two were our last hope. We thought you might know something that might help. Without a few new leads, we're out of ideas and that means our patients won’t make it."
"The Incomparable Legion of Light? Gone?" Lemuel could hardly believe what he had just heard. He knew that was the unit ordered to attack the human invasion but that was all. Yahweh's own personal guard gone? By a single weapon?
"Was that what it was called? No matter. It's gone." Zinder was slightly irritated again. He wasn't really interested in what had happened except in as much as it affected his patients. "I believe the Army nuked it. We think the sleet of radiation from the blast is the cause of the skin cancers. The oncologists believe it mutated the DNA in the victims so your rebuilding mechanisms have gone out of control."
Lemuel and Maion looked at each other again in confusion. That almost caused Zinder to grin openly. These angels might think they are perfection but they know less science than a human seven year old. Then he decided to try something. "Perhaps Michael-Lan might know more?"
Lemuel answered very carefully. "Ah yes, Michael-Lan. There is much I wish to discuss with my old friend Michael."
Hill 331, Overlooking the Western Wall of the Eternal City. Heaven
The ZBD-97 platoon was parked in the trees that covered the crest of the hill. The scouts had left them and moved forward so that they could overlook the massive city that lay below them. Captain Tao Gan had very specific orders from his command, orders that did not eventually trace back to H.E.A. supreme command. He had followed those orders exactly. His reconnaissance platoon had slipped through the countryside with all the stealth that four armored personnel carriers could muster. He had avoided contact with enemy forces, steered clear of population centers and done everything else to make sure that his presence on this hill was undetected. From this hill he could see as far into the Eternal City as was possible. The Chinese People's Liberation Army didn’t have the wealth of equipment than the Americans did but they now had an asset in place that could substitute human eyes for remote-controlled aircraft.
The Americans had promised that all the information they gathered would be shared out but the CPLA commanders had been suspicious. Perhaps that was the wrong word Tao Gan thought. Cautious might be better. With his unit here on the hill, they had a way of checking whether the information the Americans sent them was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
"Sir, look at this." The voice from his 3rd-Level NCO was barely a whisper. The staff sergeant had been operating a pair of tripod-mounted surveillance binoculars, a set far too large and heavy to be lifted by hand. Tao Gan slid over to his position and looked through the binoculars. A slight adjustment of the focus was necessary to bring the street scene into sharp relief. Once done, he could see the angels in the street. Most of them were standing still, staring in the direction of the far-off city center. They seemed strangely motionless, as if they were in some form of trance. Or so terrified by what they saw that they were incapable of motion. Tao Gan's thought spurred his next decision. He needed to report back to Corps HQ.
The Ultimate Temple, Heaven
Michael-Lan felt the first beginnings of fear darken his mind. Even with the support of his network, he was only just barely surviving the barrage of electric bolts that enveloped him. Yahweh had given up talking to him or trying to persuade him to drop his guard. Now, he was relying on sheer brute force to batter down Michael's defenses and crush him out of existence. The non-stop onslaught was wearing Michael down. He could feel his legs weakening and it was all he could do to stop himself staggering. He was actually using some of the power drawn from his allies to keep standing firm and erect. It was a vicious cycle and he knew it. The more power he used for that purpose, the less he could feed into his defensive shell. That meant more of Yahweh's attacks reached him and weakened him still further. That meant he would have to use still more power to stand tall.
Michael caught himself, his momentary inattention had caused him to slip slightly, to begin the twisting fall that would end with him helpless on the ground. He chanced a brief glance at Yahweh, seeing with relief that his brief lapse had gone unnoticed. Then, to his intense relief, the grinding assault slackened and faded. He, Michael-Lan, had survived another confrontation with Yahweh's raw power. His senses reached out, feeling for the reserves of power that Yahweh still had in store and noting grimly how far they exceeded his own. He sucked the cold, ozone-tainted air into his starved lungs, feeling it rasp at the raw lining of his throat as he breathed in. His mind reached out, embracing all those of his network, all those whom he had lured into his net. His plan had worked, he had allies when Yahweh had none. He knew how to draw on their power with maximum efficiency while Yahweh did not. He understood economy of force while Yahweh was profligate with his power. And yet, for all that, Michael-Lan knew that he was slowly losing this fight. For a moment despair seized him. He felt it cloud his mind and the treacherous realization of just how easy it would be to give up and let go started to coil into his consciousness.
Michael looked up and saw the vindictive half-smile on Yahweh's face. That told him where those treacherous thoughts had come from. Yahweh hadn't slackened his assault, he had simply changed one mode for another. For a brief second, Michael wished he had one of the hats that humans had taken to wearing, the ones that protected them against the mind-deceptions of the daemons. It would do him no good of course. The hats only protected humans against daemonic mind-entering powers and incompletely at that. Those tinfoil hats were of no use against a being with Yahweh's power. Now if I had one of their tanks . . . . . The thought of him sitting in a human tank, suitably enlarged of course, made Michael snort with laughter. And that wiped the smile off his face.
"What's the matter Yah-yah? Getting weaker and feebler? You know, you should be grateful for me taking over. Gives you a chance to take a nice holiday. Why don’t you take a tour? I hear the other side of the Minos Gate is nice this time of year." Michael stepped sideways suddenly. It was nothing to do with Yahweh's response to his gibe, simply a large slab of marble had become detached from the ceiling and its fall was just a touch too close for comfort.
"I will crush your very soul from existence for this treachery." Yahweh's voice could have been used to grind rocks such was the grating venom loaded into each syllable.
"Now that's a good question." Michael tried to keep his voice light and goading despite the tiredness that consumed every muscle he had. "Can you actually do that? You couldn't do it to The Morningstar and his resistance didn't last this long. You know, old chap, I really don’t think you have it in you any more."
Michael actually missed Yahweh's reply to that for the music in his earpiece had changed again. Now, it was Wagner's Ride of the Valkyrie. As the massed bands poured the music out, the stirring score caused Michael to wonder if the old Norse gods were actually coming to his aid. Is that the message they are sending me? Reinforcements would be very welcome at this point. But the Aesir had retreated from Earth long ago, back to their own bubble world. Why should they help Michael who had commanded the armies that forced their abandonment of the Earth? Anyway, the human bandleaders didn’t know that little bit of history.
Still the changed music helped and Michael felt his spirits lift. Just in time for Yahweh chose that moment to launch yet another blast of raw power against him. Michael-Lan's defenses were up but they crumpled under the massive blow, allowing the energy to pour in towards him. He threw every last shred of power he could scrape up into the breach, saw the flood of multicolored light grind to a halt a few bare inches before it had contacted him. He sweated, breathed deeply, summoning the tiny reserve of power he had, feeling the muscles in his legs weaken as he did so. But, Yahweh's fireball was pushed back, the gap around Michael widening slowly, fraction of an inch by fraction of an inch until enough of a safety margin existed to allow him some tiny comfort. For all that, he knew this was the end. He had thrown everything he had unto the battle. He had nothing left. Soon, his power would run out and it would all be over.
In the background, outside the consciousness of the immediate struggle, Michael-Lan-Michael heard a familiar banging noise. It took a second for it to register then its identity hit him. It was the sound of the doors to the Throne Room opening and then slamming shut. He was also aware of something else. He now had a power reserve, a tiny one for certain but one that was growing. Grimly holding the line against Yahweh's furious assault, Michael sneaked a look through the scintillating globes of power towards the door.
Leilah-Lan had entered the room. Not just entered it, but made an entrance. She'd dyed her wing feathers black and was wearing her full dominatrix outfit. She strode across the throne room floor, the heels of her boots clicking on the marble as she turned and stood beside Michael, her face screwed up with concentration as she tried to pour power into him. Michael felt Yahweh's assault slacken and fail with the sheer shock of what had just happened. Leilah-Lan in full professional outfit was something this throne room had never seen before.
"What are you doing here? I told you to get ready to run if this failed."
"You did. You seem to forget Michael, I don't take orders very well." She chanced a quick grin at him.
"You're mad. . . . ." Michael's words were cut off by the doors banging again. Charmeine, Raphael and Gabriel walked in, striding across the rubble-covered floor to take up position around Michael. "All of you."
"Grateful isn't he." Charmeine-Lan spoke lightly in the silence that had followed their entrance. "And us flying all the way here in a thunderstorm just for him."
"What's happening at the Club?" Michael was actually at a loss for words. He had assumed his inner circle would make a run for it if he lost. Their decision to come here and stand with him, he just hadn’t seen that coming.
"The humans are running it. We explained what was going on and why. Told them what we wanted to achieve. What you were trying to do and what you were risking to do it. So, they took over there. Glen's officially in charge by the way. That freed us up to come here. They aren't leaving either by the way. They're going to keep playing until we win or Yahweh pulls the roof down on their heads. More of our high-ranking clients are on their way here . . . . ."
"Get ready." Michael suddenly remembered why he was here and what the battle with Yahweh was like. "Yah-yah's got a habit of throwing attacks without warning."
"Nasty of him." Leilah-Lan sounded most disapproving. "I'll have to . . . . . . ."
She was interrupted by a massive blast of power from Yahweh. This time, the response was different. With his most trusted allies around him, Michael didn’t have to worry about drawing power from his network. They were pouring it into him and the difference was more than significant. This time, he stalled the blast half way towards him and held it there. The pressure was immense but for the first time since the battle began, he felt as if he was in control of the situation. He was aware of something else as well. The choir outside the room were no longer singing hymns of praise. They were singing in tune with the broadcast from the Montmartre Club.
That was when Michael felt his power slacken slightly. Leilah had pulled herself out of the net, stepped slightly to one side and hurled all the energy she could muster at Yahweh. The discharge cracked with a flat vicious noise as she followed it with her whip. It flailed across the room and struck Yahweh full in the chest. The lash pushed him hard back against the throne and sent splinters of marble flying through the air. It was a one-time trick-pony shot and Michael knew it but, once again, Yahweh's poor power management had left him open to it. For a few seconds, his assault stopped and the blast of power from Michael flooded across the room and besieged Yahweh in his throne. Leilah had slumped to her knees, exhausted by the effort needed to generate the blast but she had made a historic mark, one that would never be forgotten in Heaven. For she, an Erelim, had managed to attack and hurt Yahweh. From within the shield of energy that surrounded them, Charmeine reached out and pulled her into the protection of the energy barrier.
For a moment, the initiative was in Michael's hands. He poured power at Yahweh, exhausting himself and his allies in the process, but he had Yahweh on the defensive at last. Now it was Yahweh who was struggling to hold back the assault, it was Yahweh who was fighting to prevent the energy breaking through and crushing him. Concentrating on managing the assault, Michael was only dimly aware of other angels from his club entering the room and joining the group around him. He just felt their energy joining his and supporting the streams of power that mixed and blasted inside the shattered throne room.
Never in the memories of anybody present had there been anything like the displays that now saturated the throne room. The scintillating, interacting arcs of light had gone far beyond white and multicolor. Now they shimmered with iridescent hues beyond the imagination of those watching in awe. The confrontation left that between Yahweh and the Morningstar pallid by comparison, pallid and lackluster for the brilliance of the light battle was enough to blind those unprepared for it. Just as Michael had clawed his way back from the brink of defeat just a few minutes earlier, now Yahweh tried to do the same. He also poured power into his defense and saw the assault on him slowly forced back. Watching him, Michael realized that, for the first time in uncountable millennia, Yahweh was actually running out of energy.
The battle was deadlocked. The two great shimmering walls of light energy were stationary in the middle of the room, their interface twisting with wild, unknowable colors and were beyond any mind to describe. Neither side could disengage now, both were locked in a death-grapple that could only end with the defeat and utter destruction of one. Or both thought Michael. That's an outcome I hadn't considered before. He looked behind him and saw another thing he had not expected. There was a disturbance around the entrance to the mason's bunker, now stained, blackened and scarred by the battle. The mason himself pulled free of the crowd inside and walked across the room to stand with Michael and his allies. The added energy pushed the wall a little bit further back towards Yahweh
Michael-Lan-Michael looked around, quickly assessing the situation. Leilah-Lan was back on her feet, tapping the palm of her left hand with her riding crop as she poured her recovering energy reserves into the battle. He had more than a dozen allies around him now, including at least five Chayot Ha Kodesh of the first and second degrees. For all that, he still hadn't quite got the edge to finish off Yahweh. They were evenly balanced, Yahweh on one side, Michael and his allies on the other and that was it.
There was one question Michael needed to know the answer to. That one question would be decisive in the titanic struggle that was now reaching its conclusion. Michael asked it of himself time and time again, his mind searching desperately for the answer. How would the humans handle this situation?
Last edited by Stuart on 2010-07-07 10:53pm, edited 1 time in total.
Nations do not survive by setting examples for others
Nations survive by making examples of others
Nations survive by making examples of others
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Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Five Up
The humans? They would hit Yahweh with a cruise missile. Something which still isn't exactly out of the question...
Re: The Salvation War: Pantheocide. Part Seventy Five Up
Finally. So anxious to see how the fight turns out. Also interesting to get confirmation about other supernatural factions: so far there are the angel/demons, devils, Caesar's gods, and the Aesir. I wonder if all the latter groups are distinct, or just different names for the same thing. I don't remember much really being disclosed in story.