I see what you mean. But it remains that the Ori were the last in a succession of progressively "moar invulnerable !" enemies.
In SG's firsts seasons a Hatak was unstoppable. It took inside fuckery to take out the two motherships Apohis brought to subdue Earth, and after that the SGC lived in fear of another attack, until Earth got Asgard protection.
Later on, after the Replicator rampage and stuff, Hataks were relegated to the rank of "mook ships" exploding whenever a more advanced vessel (=Ori) farted in their direction.
Of course it took several seasons to reach that stage. But I intend to keep the super-powered enemies out of the story at least in the foreseeable future. Otherwise it'd be short :
Ori Prior steps out of the stargate.
"Hallowed are the Ori ! Convert or die !"
"Fuck you ! Your religion sucks !"
"So be it ! Death to the sinners !"
Prior raises his staff, everyone dies.
Alternatively : Ori toilet-ship hypers in, everyone dies.
Anyway. There's an update, and... Things are heating up for the poor Tollan.
Nautona System
Tollan Empire
6 LY from the Tollan Home System
Nautona - the pearl of the Empire !
From lush tropical forests to endless ski slopes, you won’t find the time to be bored on the best-preserved imperial world. Despite three centuries of settlement, the planet retains a sense of true authenticity with its vast natural reserves and the local focus on responsible agricultural practices. As a result, Nautona offers the widest range of activities on any imperial world along with first-class infrastructures.
Try the multitude of scenic hikes in the beautiful, temperate Nava mountains. Or dive in the crystal-clear warm waters of the Sitarian islands near the equator. Want more sophisticated recreation ? Then Satria, the capital city, awaits you with its countless cafes and restaurants, museums and theaters, and its lively nightlife.
And if this isn’t enough, take a cruise to the incredible vistas of Galar, the system’s gaseous giants, with its multicoloured rings and twenty-five moons.
Don’t wait - the pearl of the Empire awaits your visit !
The Tollan Vacationer, 167th edition
The Imperial Tollan Navy command and control station
Disceia hung over Nautona in geostationary orbit. Its countergravity modules could hold it effortlessly against the planet’s attraction, but it was deemed that a natural orbit was safer in the unlikely event of a malfunction. A disc-shaped structure with a diameter of four hundred meters, its white circular shape was a familiar sight to the planet’s amateur astronomers.
Its main function was to provide a sensor watch of the system, taking in the feeds from the dozen of automated monitoring stations scattered at regular intervals around the periphery, adding them to the picture from its own powerful sensors, and retransmitting a coherent tactical picture to the other ITN assets. It also served as a command hub, although so far the crew had more practice coordinating rescue and salvage efforts both on-ground and in space.
Therefore, when the warning for an unscheduled hyperspace window flashed on the CIC’s displays, the handful of navy operators present reacted according to training more than experience. The procedures were clear and largely automated though. A routine system-wide alert was sent to the various ITN assets. So far, it didn’t mean much. Unscheduled arrivals weren’t exactly unknown. There were always morons who forgot to check in their flight plan and as a result lost their license along with a hefty fine. It could also be a distressed ship, in which case the nearest vessel, civilian or military, would be requested to render assistance.
In the meantime, the station’s computers processed the raw sensor input, analyzing and quantifying the energetic emissions from the rend in the normal fabric of space. The highly complex numbers were correlated with known hyperspace signatures, and the station’s expert logic found a close match.
A microsecond later, the urgent wail of an attack warning shook the quiet atmosphere, while the lighting turned red station-wide and a synthetic voice announced the nature of the emergency.
“
Warning warning. Enemy ship in-system. Warning warning...”
Inside the command center, the main holographic display reconfigured itself to show a close-up of the region of space where the hyperspace event had just happened. Subspace-based, real time data showed the location and composition of the enemy force.
No less than ten Goaul’d Hatak motherships were sitting in formation three light-minutes from Galar, far outside the range of the local defensive batteries.
Even as the operators watched, smaller icons flooded from the larger ones. Shoals of Death Gliders and Alkesh bombers settled in loose attack formations then vectored out, closely followed by the huge motherships.
“They’re going to swamp the Galar defense perimeter” the officer in charge stated matter-of-factly, doing his best to exude calm. A response was needed. Fortunately, Nautona was a core world, and as such, possessed a full-sized defense fleet.
“Order the Galar squadron to engage Goau’ld small craft in support of our fixed defenses”, the local reaction force was comprised of destroyers and gunboats, small units that were the most effective against Goaul’d fighters and bombers, but didn’t stand a chance against upgraded Hataks. Hopefully they would delay the enemy long enough for the heavier units, the cruiser-centric squadrons in Nautona high orbit, to move out and engage the motherships.
“Sir, many civilian ships are cruising the Galar sector. They will be caught in the cross-fire”
The officer winced inwardly. Defenseless, save for their civilian-grade shields, and full of tourists, those graceful vessels were easy prey for even a squadron of Death Gliders. He would have to hope they’d have the time to run away, and that the Goaul’d would focus on the military units. There wasn’t much he could do.
“Have they received the warning ?”
“Affirmative. Most are already scattering and running in-system at flank speed”
“Well we did what we could.”
Deep in the cold emptiness of space, thousands of attackers bore in. Sleek Death Gliders and bulky Alkesh flew in scattered formations, lessons learnt from battles survived. As soon as they entered the range of Tollan weapons, their pilots began to jink randomly along their attack vector, evading the bright storm of ion cannon fire rushing before them.
Not all of them were lucky, the sheer weight of fire was bound to find targets. The feared Tollan ion cannons weren’t a mortal threat to Hataks any more, but smaller ships were fair game.
Down on the airless moon closest to the Goaul’d swarm, gunnery crews manning the underground command bunkers directed the fire of the battery they were responsible for on the surface above them. More batteries had been installed in the past months, when the ITN had realized they couldn’t afford to play quality over quantity any more. For now, the range was long and ion fire wasn’t close to light-speed. It was a matter of sending heavy salvos in the predicted flight path of the intruders, hoping to whittle down their numbers and disrupt their formations before they entered range of their own weapons. An Alkesh torpedo was powerful enough on its own to smash through an ion battery’s individual shield and destroy the guns. And there were hundreds of incoming bombers, not counting the weaker fighters that could whittle down the defenders through sheer quantity.
Inside the station’s CIC, the commander watched as enemy icons winked out steadily. But not fast enough Not fast enough. He grabbed the elevated railing tightly as Glider formations branched out of the main swarm in pursuit of the escaping civilian ships. A brief struggle flared in his mind. If he gave the order to intercept, the civilians might be spared. But then the fixed defenses would lose their cover at the most crucial moment.
Seconds ticked by, and eyes looked at him as each passing moment reduced the intercept solution for the fast boats.
At last his gaze hardened. “We can’t lose the Galar defense batteries. Our cruisers will need their support if they are to have a hope of standing up to those Hataks.”
“Sir, there must be thousands of civilians aboard those ships” the watchmaster objected quietly.
“And there are thousands more on Galar’s moons, officer.” the commander retorted. “Whatever happens, many Tollans will die today.”
Ascendant Supremacy Hatak Merciless
Nautona outer system
The god-like being surveyed the development of the battle on the holoscreen, sitting erect on his throne, hands poised over the touch-sensitive surface of his armrests, ready to intervene personally. So far he didn’t need to. His subordinates did an adequate job of managing the maneuver of his ships, obeying the plan set in motion.
And so far the Tollans were reacting as expected, massing the bulk of their local squadrons to counterattack in force with ground fire support. As resilient as his upgraded Hataks’ shields were, the combined firepower of the Tollan vessels would eventually whittle them away, while the smaller, nimbler defenders would dodge the majority of his return fire.
But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to fight a set-piece battle, one fleet pounding away at the other. And the hapless civilian ships fleeing the sector were small fry. The Goaul’d’s grin widened as the first fugitives came under fire from the agile Death Gliders.
Rothan bared his teeth in a savage joyful snarl. His Death Glider squadron was one of those tasked with pursuing the retreating unarmed Tollan ships, and along with two of his comrades he had accelerated hard in pursuit vector of a pleasure liner, an elegant vessel gleaming white and silver on the blackness of space. It was straining to reach the inner system and the protection afforded by the cruisers rushing toward the battle, but it was built for comfort, not pure acceleration. Rothan knew its prey wouldn’t escape in time, and he allowed himself the pleasure of zooming past the bulging hull, savoring the terror that must grip the doomed souls inside, then looped away. The Tollan liner attempted to maneuver and Rothan laughed at the pitiful effort. His own fighter could match every move, imitated by his wingmen.
He selected his aimpoint carefully : the transparent surface on the vessel’s dorsal side below which he could see the vivid blue of a pool surrounded by the greens, reds and yellows of ornamental vegetation. His lip curled in disgust and hate. Those godless Tollan scum displayed such arrogance, scoffing at his god’s power, refusing to worship. He would show them, the proud instrument of Lord Tanith’s divine wrath.
His fingers tensed around the control globes. He knew the powerful magic at the heart of his war vessel would recognize his intent to open fire. Thinking deliberately, he commanded the craft’s fire spirit to unleash the wrath of the gods.
His aim was true. The luminous golden bolts of sunfire flashed away and crashed over the target. He saw the flicker of counter-magic, preventing his holy fire from reaching the infidel craft. He gritted his teeth in determination, knowing that his wingmen were adding their own retribution. Their combined fierceness eventually overcame the weaker magic of their prey and he cried in exultation as flames erupted on the Tollan hull, shattering the clear blister. Avidly, the Jaffa pilot drank the glorious sight of destruction, when vacuum sucked hungrily at the wound bathed in clansing flame. Trees vanished to black dust, water flashed to vapor, metal bubbled and tore.
Rothan switched his aim to the protrusion which had to be the enemy ship’s Tel’tak. Metal plating splintered away, followed by air and debris, then bodies flaying comically as if performing a silent pantomime. One of them drifted in Rothan’s aim, and the Jaffa spat in hateful glee when the heavy plasma bolt disintegrated the body in a grotesque cloud of gore.
At once, the Tollan ship ceased further maneuvering, its commanding intelligence destroyed. The three Death Gliders were free to aim as they pleased and started to walk their fire all over the vast hull, rending and tearing away its contents. Rows of cabins were eviscerated, disgorging their terrified human cargo into the cold embrace of space to snuff out their lives in agonizing, drawn-out suffocation. Parents watched helplessly as their children were incinerated in the blink of an eye, before joining the carbonized remains to drift in the void. Couples and friends desperately tried to scream a last I love you before the absence of air silenced them forever.
Methodically, ruthlessly, the trio of Death Gliders dug inside the wounded beast, gutting it like a fish, leaving no compartment intact. They dodged the larger debris drifting out, unconcerned with the occasional spattering of small pieces and frozen droplets on the sturdy outer panels.
Every light and every live had long been extinguished inside the Tollan ship when the Jaffas ceased firing. The battered, unrecognizable mass of shredded matter before them would never fly again, and never again harbour the enemies of their god, of that they were sure.
With a satisfied grin, Rothan pivoted his fighter away. It wouldn’t do to be caught by the incoming cruisers, and with luck the battle over the gas giant would still be going on when they were back.
He boosted away from the expanding debris field, having inflicted a last outrage. As his Death Glider accelerated out-system, he glanced contently at his starboard wing and the sharp end of the staff cannon protruding out of it. There, skewered like a rabbit, hung the splayed shape of a naked Tollan female, her face frozen in a silent scream.
The opportunity had been too good and his skill at piloting had done the rest.
If he survived the coming fight, he would sure have the biggest bragging right, back at the mothership ! This happy thought banished any regret that the girl was already dead when he “collected” her.
