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  • "I can't be involved in this!" Shouted Paula I am a Morganite not a Spartan! "Paula" replied Baldwin "if the hive win this war how long do you think it will be before they come for your faction? What do you think will happen to your precious news show when your faction is controlled by the hive!?" To that Paula could say nothing. "Ok Jeneba now you say there are 18 people on the sub?"

    "Yes"

    "What would the hive want with your sub anyway?" asked Paula "Backwards engineering" Baldwin said "As far as we know the hive has yet to develop sub technology. They probably saw an opportunity and ordered some of there operatives to capture during the confusion of the blast aftermath" "Now please be quiet"


    "Hmm 18 men that probably means that they haven't killed my people yet..this could work to our advantage"

    "and you sense one hive operative out here?"

    "More or less, he is strangely apprehensive, though he is trying to hide it"

    "Ok could you point him out to me"

    "Yea he's over there" she said pointing to a man standing idle close to the sub."

    "All right when I give the signal run for the sub"

    before they could say anything else he stepped out into the middle of the dock pointed at the sentry and said "He's the one…I saw him near the command building before it blew up…he's a hive agent!" instantly the crowd around him galvanized into action.

    Several people looked at him queerly, a few ran toward the man carrying what ever they could lay there hands on. Acting on impulse the hive operative pulled out his gun and shot one of the advancing Spartan citizens. All hell then finally broke loose. Spartans came running from all directions and began to attack the man, they were now convinced was a Hive operative. In a few seconds a full scale riot had broken out. Several men emerged from the top of the sub, attracted by the commotion, Baldwin waited until they had completely exited the sub, shot them both and signaled Jeneba and Paula, who had been watching, flabbergasted, the whole scene unfold.

    Running toward the sub he quickly climbed the access ladder and mad his way toward the access hatch, Paula and Jeneba right behind him. "Jeneba" he said "can you create some confusion inside the sub..mess with their minds?" "Yes…but it would effect your men too" he swore "guess we'll have to do this the old fashioned way he said" as he opened the access hatch. A startled hive semen fired as the hatch opened. Baldwin quickly returned fire hitting the man in the chest and knocking him off the ladder. Quickly he climbed down, firing at and hitting a couple more hive men on the way. Jeneba and Paula quickly followed and the hand to hand fighting began in earnest. Confused at first, but then seeing Baldwin, the Spartan seamen quickly joined in the fray. A hive seamen tried to land a punch on Paula who deftly dodged left, then kneed him in the groin. Seeing an opportunity Jeneba grabbed his head and drove it into the side of the periscope. Baldwin seemed to be everywhere landing and douching kicks and punches left and right. Then suddenly the battle was over, the hive semen had all either been killed or incapacitated. "Tie them up" Baldwin ordered his men, throwing them some twine. "we'll decide what to do with them later"

    "Commander" one said "before you got here they sent out a general order to the fleet"

    "What?!" Shouted Baldwin "Bring up the electronic communication system" looking through the log he cursed silently..

    "What is it" asked Paula

    "They've ordered the fleet to prepare for chemical weapons launch" he said as he hastily sent out a communiqué rescending the order.

    Comment


    • Warren O'Brien looked down once again at his data pad, and tried to get something done. O'Brien and his entire staff had been glued to the holo's all day, watching the news at Sparta Command unfold, and the electronic mountain of work that had been on his pad at the start of the day was no smaller.

      As general of the first amphibious division, all orders for transfers, new recruits, and reassignments had to go through him. Each required no more than an retina signature to approve, but the sheer number of orders was overwhelming. The amphib corp had been swelling lately, and that was not necessarily a good thing. Young officers were being assigned to platoons directly out of the academy, and were not receiving much in the way of advanced training or staff assignments to prepare them for the job of leading a platoon. The enlisted ranks were in even worse shape. The normally high ampib standards had been relaxed to fill in quotas. The disbanding of the 10th NCM Company had made today's load especially heavy.

      Warren grumbled as confirmed the orders for another green enlisted soldier. This hasty buildup was going to come back to haunt them. But if course, that was only Warren's opinion, not Santiago's. Though technically a member of the Junta, he was not part of the War Council. Yet. Warren had risen to the rank of general quickly, having served in the Spartan Military for just under fifty years. He had graduated top in his class at the academy, and had soon proven himself as a brilliant strategist. In addition to field commands, Warren had been assigned to some coveted posts, including Santiago's personal staff and various Spartan military think tanks. But he was Chiron born, and young, and he would not become a member of the War Council until some of the old guard retired.

      Which was fine by him, really. Warren liked his field command. And, from the looks of the smoking ruins of the command center on the holo, his field command was a lot safer than Sparta Command.

      Warren turned to the next order on the screen, and was surprised to see the name of Royce Armstrong. Royce was a childhood friend, and the two still kept in touch, exchanging cards on Landing Day and getting together for a drink whenever they were at the same base. As far as enlisted men, Royce was as good as they came.

      With a few quick touches to the data pad, Warren reassigned Royce to one of the fresh out of the creche lieutenants. There was one potential problem solved at least.

      Warren's data pad beeped an incoming message, marked urgent. O' Brien groaned and opened the message.

      Comment


      • Yang attempts to destroy Spartan Chronicles with double post. Double post located and destroyed
        [This message has been edited by Kuruk (edited August 09, 1999).]

        Comment


        • Triple post located and destroyed
          [This message has been edited by Kuruk (edited August 09, 1999).]

          Comment


          • Paula left the sub and was standing on the dockside when her commlink beeped.

            “Forbes here” she said, flicking it open. It was Googlie.

            “Oh, hi” she said.

            “Next time you give me a love bite, warn me” he said gruffly. Then:

            “We need to talk. Where are you?”

            “At the naval yard” Paula responded.

            “Great – let’s meet in five minutes at Luigis – you know the tavern, just outside the naval yard perimeter?”

            Paula did, and agreed to meet.

            +++++++++++++++++++++++++

            Googlie had secured a private room with a dining table. They sat down.

            “Now what’s happened?” he said. “You tell me why you’re in Sparta Command, what your ‘Gaian trained’ friend is doing, and I’ll spill my guts to you”.

            Paula filled him in, then Googlie gave his turn of events, omiting only the fact that Ayola was related to Zakharov.

            “So let me get this straight,” Paula said.

            The UoP resistance and the Hive, in the person of Sand, contracted to abscond Santiago and simultaneously nuke the entire Spartan War Cabinet, in the confusion overrunning the Spartan Federation and divvying up the proceeds among themselves: the original five UoP bases back to a reconstituted University of Planet and the rest to the Hive. Am I right so far?”

            “Spot on”, said Googlie.

            “But Ayola relented, and spilled her guts to Santiago. She spoke to Slats Miller who issued the invitation in Code, that all the old Junta members recognized.

            “They sent their simulcraes, even those that weren’t around in person or in the field?”

            “Standard Operating Procedures,” Googlie responded.

            “Even if a particular member is unavailable, we have simulcraes on file that are projected at the meeting and the aide sits back at base taking notes and making prompts. We learnt that from the University when we captured their scientists. Slats tells me for instance that Gecko hasn’t been heard from for over a week, yet his holo was there at the Virtual Meeting.”

            He continued, taking up the story:

            “So when Ayola spilled the beans, they concocted a contingency plan. Santiago was spirited away to a secure location - probably a monolith or something like that – and a University Adept, a talent, was brought into the picture. She’s a chameleon actor, able to take on the personae of any samesex person, and she programmed Santiago. She and Ayola went to the Hive cave, and met up with the two agents waiting there. They staged some little byplays for the agents benefit, with the intent of luring Sand himself over -–if he felt that the UoP had doublecrossed The Circle of Ashaandi, he’d be here in a flash.”

            “Which has happened”, said Paula, taking up the story.

            “But I met with Fleet Commander Baldwin earlier this afternoon, and he’s organizing a rescue based on the belief that it’s Santiago herself being held at the cave. He was relying on feedback from our Empath, Jeneba, who was utterly convinced it was her.”

            “Only because she found the minds of the Hive agents easier to penetrate than Santiago or Ayola, who have had some neural discipline training,” said Googlie, taking up the tale. “And as these two operatives believed that the chameleon actress really was santiago, they projected that belief to Jeneba, who relayed it to Baldwin and his men.

            “But the rescue still is vital, as the UoP operative cannot be allowed to fall into Hive hands. She is Santiago’s personal aide. She knows too much. And believe me, Sand will be able to extract every bit of knowledge from her.”

            “Meanwhile what do we do in the power vacuum left by Santiago’s abduction?” Paula asked.

            “That’s exactly where I’m headed,” said Googlie. “Would you believe that without even being one day in the Ambassador’s job I’m the ranking diplomat in the Federation? And Gavin Burge is the Junta leader? Together, we rule the Spartan Federation – he militarily and me bureaucratically. Who’d ever have thought it?”

            “Who indeed” said Paula. “There’s a story here somewhere.”

            They parted company to go their separate ways.

            [This message has been edited by Paula Forbes (edited August 10, 1999).]

            Comment


            • Sarah sat bolt upright in bed

              Like a flash of lightening it came to her, feeing her of then gnawing that had been going on now for 36 hours at the back of her mind.

              She replayed the scene in her mind again, to make sure.

              She remembered every word, every nuance, where she was sitting, and Alphonse...

              She remembered.....

              “Oh, Alphonse” she wailed. “I gave him my pass to the meeting and now he’s gone and killed them all – I’ve killed them all.” She resumed her keening.

              ‘All’ understand not we. Four Planet join. EarthMiles, EarthRynn, EarthSmithers,EarthCarson. Who is ‘All’


              Why did Alphonse not say "EarthCavenaugh?"

              Why "EarthMiles?"

              For people he knew, Alphonse/Planet said , for example, "EarthSarah".

              For unknown people, Alphonse/Planet said, for example, "EarthRynn".

              Alphonse barely knew Miles Cavenaugh. Apart from leaping on him at the perimeter gate, they'd never met.

              Was that enough for the familial "EarthMiles"

              Or was somebody surnamed Miles now dead?

              Wierd coincidence if so.

              Or had The Hive transplanted or cloned Miles' personality into someone/something known only as Miles to Alphonse/Planet?

              Was Miles Cavenaugh still alive?

              Was that where Alphonse had gone? To find Miles?



              [This message has been edited by Rynn (edited August 09, 1999).]

              Comment


              • The Hive

                *****

                "Please, be seated," Yang suggested in a perfectly modulated and penetrating voice. From his console in his office desk he activated his guest benches, which slid soundlessly from the wall opposite Yang. His guest, Citizen War Minister Alverez, bowed slightly at the waist to acknowledge Yang and seated himself on the left bench. He sat with a straight back at the edge of the bench, with his gaze averted, as was proper, and waited to be addressed.

                Yang finished cycling through several reports, and after 15 minutes brought his gaze to Minister Alverez.

                "I would enjoy hearing your report, War Minister," Yang ordered in a soft voice.

                Alverez stood. "Yes, Chairman." He took his datapad from his waist and activated its holoemitter. A miniature of Emerald Isle formed in a three-dimensional isometric view from the south. The waters of the Southern Chiron Sea lapped at the base of Plex Anthill's rocky shores. Beyond were the damaged farm fields and solar collectors of the base, and between the coast and the fields were the minimal signatures common to all Hive colonies, including several service bays, area entrances, ventilation shafts, and several small ferrocrete domes. Obvious from this angle was the artificial cavern opening into the sea, which created the Hive colony harbor, and a landing strip for Hive aircraft. The terrain rose to the north, inland of the base. A single brownish black road threaded its way from the base north-northeast toward the thin blanket of pink on the horizon, which was the Great Fungal Wall.

                The isometric view of Plex Anthill rotated up until the view was straight down, forming a planview map. Then the map zoomed out, to show most of Emerald Isle, including Plex Anthill and Assassin's Redoubt.

                Blue icons representing Hive forces and grey icons representing Spartan forces winked into existence on the planview map. "15 days ago we ordered our expeditionary infantry and armor to probe the defenses of Spartan holdings along the newly build road through the Great Fungal Wall. Their orders were to find and, if possible, secure Assassin's Redoubt for the Hive. Unfortunately, the entire force of the 469th Airborne jumped in nearby Plex Anthill, presumably to explore the Great Fungal Wall. They did not know the existence of our base, our sources at Sparta Command inform us. The 469th then engaged in harassment and wanton destruction of Hive territory before being driven away by the 32nd Bomber group."

                The view zoomed in to the area surrounding Assassin's Redoubt.

                "Our infantry assault on Assassin's Redoubt was significantly delayed by their reserve air force, allowing a division of assault rovers to pin and destroy our invasion division. Likewise, our flanking action by our assault rovers was ambushed in the Great Fungal Wall just south of Assassin's Redoubt."

                The view zoomed out again, showing Hive sea transports arriving in Plex Anthill. "In the meantime, additional forces were arriving for our assault on Assassin's Redoubt. All that remained was to reinforce our airforce with additional interceptors and bombers and the force would be complete and unstoppable."

                "23 hours ago, Spartan forces were seen approaching Plex Anthill. These forces included the infantry and rovers of the 469th Airborne, which we had previously forced to retreat, and elements of the Spartan 2nd Armor," the Minister explained.

                The map shifted to again show an oblique view of Plex Anthill.

                "Although we destroyed their initial attempts at air superiority, we lacked the additional interceptors required to drive off the Spartan Airforce. " The map showed the flyby by Aardvark 1, the rising of the Hive interceptor, and Aardvark 1's destruction. Then it showed the arrival of Aardvark 2, and the Spartan forces coming over the horizon, and then taking cover under the Spartan needlejet.

                "Our forces, while strong, were unable to withstand the enormous firepower of the fusion chaos weaponry the Spartans possess. Our losses at Emerald Isle were significant."

                Superimposed over the picture of the battle a table appeared:

                HIVE LOSSES
                Plasma garrison: 3 (at Plex Anthill)
                Missile infantry: 12 (3 fighting the 469th, 4 destroyed during the assault on Assassin's Redoubt, and 5 destroyed during the assault at Plex Anthill)
                Missile rover brigades: 6 (4 destroyed by ambush, 2 destroyed at Plex Anthill)
                Missile penetrator needlejets: 2
                Missile interceptor needlejets: 1
                Foil transports: 2

                KNOWN SPARTAN LOSSES
                Fusion chaos rover brigades: 2
                Airdrop chaos fusion infantry: 2
                Fission missile needlejet: 1

                "Fortunately," the Minister continued, "our superior production efficiency means we will produce two military units for every one the Spartans do. Moreover, since the Spartans' doctrine induces them to make only the best units with very expensive abilities, it is likely that we will produce 3 for every 1 the Spartans produce.

                "The telling factors were the lack of adequate intelligence, air support, and superior Spartan technology. For us to be successful we need to strike first, and with overwhelming numbers. Therefore, I propose a significant increase in aircraft production, including minimally armed recon needlejets and interceptors, and additional support for our intelligence operations," the War Minister concluded, as he handed Chairman Yang his datapad.

                Chairman Yang sat quietly for a moment, examining the battle at Plex Anthil as it unfolded in fast forward motion. Then he took the datapad and reviewed the proposed build schedule.

                "I agree, War Minister," Yang said as he looked up at his advisor with hard brown eyes. "One issue remains. What of our diversionary forces which landed near Fort Superiority?"

                "Yes, Chairman. Our efforts to draw all available resources to Fort Superiority to stop our 'invasion' failed due to the unfortunate airdrop of the 469th. At last report, we have lost 2 infantry brigades and a rover brigade, and destroyed at least 2 Spartan infantry brigades," the War Minister explained.

                "Can they be extricated?" Yang asked.

                "Only at great cost and risk, Chairman."

                "Then they will serve The People in their deaths," Yang finished stoically. "Are our forces assembled for the two-pronged invasion?"

                Alverez smiled, "Yes, Chairman."

                "Dismissed."

                Comment


                • Morgan Industries, Milton Burle Holotheatre

                  *****

                  The Queen of the Night Aria from Mozart's Magic Flute was reaching its apex. Floating in mid air, the Queen of the Night diva literally sailed through the recreated fancifully arrayed baroque stage, gesturing wildly as she effortlessly and flawlessly hit every high C and high A in the aria. The enraptured audience was, by tradition, the elite of Morgan society. This performance was blessed by having none other than Nwabudike Morgan Senior and his 2nd wife and two consorts in a private balcony. Everyone was in his or her finest regalia, Morgan in his richest blue silk kimono and his wives and consorts in matching chiffon.

                  One of Morgan's entourage approached Morgan, leaned down, and discretely whispered into his left ear. Morgan reacted strongly. The aid retreated slightly as Morgan quickly turned toward him. After a brief pause, the aid repeated his message.

                  Morgan Senior brusquely left his seat and retreated to the hall outside of the balcony. His wife and consorts turned toward the disturbance in irritation, then turned back to the aria.

                  Standing outside of the balcony entrance, Morgan's three security offices stood at attention. Morgan burst through the elegant gilt doors, furious.

                  "Explain to me AGAIN, why you DARE to interrupt by me and my wife and consorts!" Morgan demanded. The veins on his neck the temples were throbbing with rage.

                  His security officer were silent for a moment, then the head of security stepped forward and gave Morgan a Governmental Datapad.

                  Morgan's rage subsided immediately. The datapad was on pause, and he reactivated it. A miniature of Yang appeared over the display.

                  "Good evening, Morgan. I trust I haven't interrupted some important state function," Yang stated with a faint mocking tone. Yang' image scanned Morgan's elaborate attire.

                  "I always have time to converse with my Pact Brother. It is a pleasure, Chairman Sheng-Ji Yang," Morgan replied with false sincerity.

                  "We are both busy men," Yang jibed, "so I will get to the point. The People's Hive is close to attaining military preeminence on Chiron. Our military resources are already multiple times that of the weak-willed Peacekeepers or your own, as your recent tragedy at Morgan Industries so pointedly showed." Yang's tone was pointed and acidic.

                  Morgan glowered in embarrassment, for it was true. And the threat that was implied was very real.

                  "I require a contribution from Morgan Industries as a demonstration of your good faith in our Pact. Since we of the Hive have taken the burden of bringing enlightenment to this fractious world, this would be an equitable distribution of resources. I suggest that you allocate 1,500 energy units toward our shared goal," Yang stated.

                  Morgan was momentarily speechless. Yang had just extorted 700 energy units from him seven years ago. This was unacceptable! Treachery, and thievery of the worst kind! To steal hard-earned energy, while Yang wasted his on toys and useless wars of aggression!

                  'Still,' Morgan Senior through, 'the Hive gives Morgan Industries a certain amount of security. Yang will indeed be sorry if this ceases to be the case.'

                  Morgan composed himself before replying.

                  "I fear I can only spare 750 energy toward our worthy goal, trusty Pact Brother," Morgan said, putting on a pained expression of agreement and regret.

                  "Ah, you test my patience?" Yang said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Very well, I accept your contribution to our effort, meager though it may be. I now have important affairs of state to attend to. Yang out."

                  The Chairman's imaged winked out.

                  'Yang is indeed the master of veiled insults and innuendo. It is almost more than a true man can stand,' Morgan through to himself. 'This situation is really quite intolerable.'

                  Morgan Senior handed the datapad back to his security head.

                  "This outing is at an end. See to it that the rest of my party finishes the evening to their satisfaction. Call a Morgan Industries Council for tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Make sure that Nwabudike Junior is in attendance, as I require his presence."

                  The evening was ruined. Preparations now had to be made.

                  Comment


                  • Paula found herself a small hotel room and checked in.

                    After a shower and a freshen up, she commlinked Peter.

                    "Paula, where are you - we thought you'd disappeared off the face of Chiron" was his hello.

                    "I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm in S…..."

                    "PAULA. GET BACK HERE IMMEDIATELY." The florid face of Joe Carter appeared on the small commlink screen.

                    "No need to shout, JoJo darling," said Paula. "The whole of Sparta Command can hear you."

                    "YOU'RE IN..sorry. You're in Sparta Command?" Joe asked.

                    "For one night. I'm booked out tomorrow for MI."

                    "Paula, please stay. Run some stories from there. Background, interviews, reaction to the destruction of the Military Junta - that kind of stuff. Full authority to the NewsRoom there - who, by the way, have been awfully quiet of late."

                    "Joe, for an old newsman you're way behind. The Junta survived - no-one was at the meeting. It was a holomeeting. Simulcraes. There's nothing to tell."

                    "Nothing to tell" howled Joe in anguish. "That itself will be our top billing tonight. Can you get to our studios and do it?"

                    "Okay," she said resignedly. There went the early night.

                    "I'll do it. Give me back to Peter."

                    The familiar face appeared.

                    "Peter, you owe me one. Could you swing by my apartment and pack me a bag with a couple of changes of clothes - you remember the combo, don't you?" - Peter's face nodded assent - "and can you come to Sparta Command. This needs more than just a news anchor."

                    "You got it" he said enthusiastically. "I think I can be at the offices by noon tomorrow"

                    "Great", she replied. "See you then."

                    She dressed again, and went out into the evening to the MorganNews studios.

                    +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                    She keyed in the lock combination and entered the building.

                    The elevator whisked her to the 15th floor - the tallest tower in Sparta Command, appropriately owned by Morgan Industries.

                    As she walked along the corridor to the MorganNews offices, she paused. The door was ajar.

                    "Funny," she thought. "I didn't pass anyone on the way. "Oh, maybe the elevators passed."

                    Pushing the door open she yelled "ANYONE HOME?"

                    There was a scuffling and some grunts.

                    She walked in through the vestibule and into the studio.

                    And stopped dead in her tracks.

                    She was looking into the muzzle of a shredder pistol

                    Comment


                    • Hive Datalinks

                      *****

                      Squirt transmission received. Routing to First Citizen Chairman Yang through secure channel.

                      * Operative Dragon Communiqué to Chairman Yang
                      * Date – M.Y. 2225 9.23:1140
                      * Ref ID – classified, Top Secret
                      * Authorization – Top Secret
                      * R.E. – Intelligence Update on Spartan Federation

                      * Encrypted data. Enter ID and verification of identity, and select link:
                       Spartan Laboratory Summary
                       Spartan Energy Allocation
                       Spartan Base Operations
                       Spartan Secret Project Report
                       Spartan Satellite Survey
                       Spartan Security Nexus Military and Civilian Unit Summary

                      Comment


                      • The commlink beeped in the dark of night.

                        Levavassier had been listening to a recording of last night's staging of the Zauberflöte at Morgan Industries. Would that Sheng-Ji Yang were as easy to contain as Monostatos! The Gecko, Arihclinn and he had often discussed Earth opera, and its powers of allegory. The masonic motifs of the Zauberflöte had been a particular favorite.

                        Levavassier shook his head, and got up. Still squeezing his eyes, he fumbled with the commlink pads.

                        "Ah! Turning to Sarastro, I see. Very good!"

                        Levavassier opened his eyes. He could only recognize the face on the commlink screen as Salvador St James's, because he had already recognized the voice.

                        "Zak's bells. Who got you looking like a clown." he said.

                        In fact, the Gecko looked like a million bucks. Levavassier knew he had undergone longevity treatment at several moments in his life, but in the time that he had served under him, he had only taken them to keep looking more or less the same. The Gecko's appearance had sometimes reminded him of the poor fellow in one of Ovid's Metamorphoses, who had been given eternal life, but had forgotten to ask for eternal youth, as well. But this time, the face looked like that of a man in his early forties.

                        "Thank you, Eugene. Tricia thinks I look like a young Sheng-Ji Yang, now you think me a clown. Have you been well lately?"

                        Levavassier shook his head, and sat down.

                        "Not too bad, considering I was blown up a couple of days ago."

                        "Ah. But then so was I, remember."

                        "Yeah, right. We were both there. Whatever did we talk about?"

                        The Gecko grinned back at him.

                        "Opera, I should hope."

                        "Must have been. What's this with Tricia? She there with you? Where are you, by the way?"

                        "Tricia is still in Morganite territory, where we spent a nice long week in a rather expensive Paradise Garden. Myself, I am in Sparta right now."

                        "In Sparta? Coming from Morgana? I would have thought you would have hightailed it back to Gaia by now."

                        "Why would I do that?"

                        "Lindly."

                        "Please explain."

                        "It is rumored, admittedly not by the most reliable of sources, that she is no longer working on the Gaian science program."

                        "And you assumed she would have been with me."

                        "You go back together, don't you?"

                        "Yes, we do. And at some point in that common history, we decided it would not be in our best interests to pursue our relationship any further."

                        "And now you're with the admiral."

                        "Indeed. Any messages?"

                        "Tell her she's sorely missed. That Giacomazzi woman is a pain in the butt."

                        "What's your assessment of the situation in Sparta now?"

                        "A total shambles back home, all nice and cosy near the front."

                        "Please elaborate."

                        "There is no one back here, sir. I am, perhaps Atreus. Allardyce is either in Gaia or running around with the Forbes woman, Burge is overlording near GC..."

                        "And doing quite a good job. What about Santiago?"

                        "Nobody knows, sir. Least of all the ones who are supposed to know. I've been onto everyone I know, squeezing hard, and the best I can come up with is that either she is with the UoP resistance still, or she's in Sand's hands already. But that's where this comes from - UoP resurfacing and striking deals with Sand."

                        "Which he intends to honor, of course."

                        "Cute, isn't it?" Levavassier agreed.

                        "The University was always naive, Eugene. That's what brought them down in the first place."

                        "Why have you come back, sir? Now that I've asked, why did you abscond in the first place?"

                        "That was Santiago's idea."

                        "Pardon?"

                        "She wanted an ambassador in Morgana. She asked me to find out whether one would be welcome and, most of all, useful. It was all a fairly long-term idea, but when the Hive vendetta erupted, things went whitewater. And remember the blue burst you sent me when I was out looking for Googles?"

                        "Yes, sir. That was when I had first received word that Shannon Lindly was MiA in Gaia, sir. The event proved to match a code in your must-know file, and I sent the burst."

                        "Lindly was in Morgana, Eugene. She was the Gaian ambassador-to-be. The MiA was a signal to the world that things were coming to a boil. So that's why my presence was required."

                        "What things, sir? To a boil, I mean."

                        "The Hive has designs on Morgana, Eugene. It was considered to be in the interests of Sparta and Gaia that those designs would be... precipitated."

                        "What about Lal, sir?"

                        "What about him? As long as no one attacks him, he'll stand by and watch."

                        Levavassier squeezed his eyes hard. He had been unable to sleep before, but now he suddenly felt very tired. He realized with a shock that he had pined after this - the patient, levelheaded presence of his mentor.

                        "Eugene? Are you all right?"

                        "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

                        "I'll be on my way in a moment. I have promises to keep to quite a number of people. I may even find a lead on Santiago's fate from them."

                        "Yes, sir. And, sir?"

                        "Yes?"

                        "The riddle - I'm afraid I still don't understand. What Santiago really means. Santiago is Spanish for Saint James, but what does it mean? Are you related?"

                        The Gecko smiled.

                        "You only understood half of the riddle. The more difficult half, amusingly enough. It's not important now. And no, we're not related. It was a little joke, once."

                        "I see. How amusing."

                        "Go to bed, Eugene. And if you want your senses soothed, forget Mozart and play a real opera. Don Carlo should do. Geck out."

                        Levavassier's ears buzzed. He shut down the commlink, then the music, and collapsed on his bed. He was asleep within seconds.

                        ------------------
                        Numquam turbae misceri
                        Numquam turbae misceri

                        Comment


                        • "Down there, Frog. Near the incline. Do you see them?"

                          Arihclinn looked at his monitor. Blast, but the girl had sharp eyes.

                          "Going down." Nyoman said. "Get on the wire to Yanni."

                          Arihclinn opened the channel to the Plex Anthill airstrip.

                          "Number One Wing Mark Two Nyepi, calling PA strip, over." he intoned.

                          "One-Two Nyepi, this is PA strip, go ahead, over."

                          "PA strip, stray cazzies sighted at two zero niner your approach, a hundred and twenty crow clicks, over. Advise ambulance teams and One-Three Eleutheria, over."

                          "One-Two Nyepi, we copy two zero niner at one twenty crow, advise ambulance and One-Three, over."

                          "PA strip, that is correct. Over and out."

                          Nyoman banked steeply, went into a dive, came out of it, turned up the Nyepi's nose, and stalled the plane. At the same time the VTOL thrusters kicked in and put the plane down after the last eight meters or so with barely a ruffle.

                          The casualties, first named 'cazzies' by the now long-dead 1st Wing ace 'Caz-Man' McNichol, were out by a small outcrop of rocks. As Nyoman and Arihclinn got out of the plane, one silhouette stood out from the rock, and waved. They ran over quickly. He was standing outside a low emergency field cover, clearly favoring a bad leg.

                          "Thank God you are here." the man said. "Our comms went down."

                          Ignoring the odd turn of phrase - who'd use a Believer's term like that? - the two surgeons checked the group of soldiers lying prone under a small overhang.

                          "Some of these are fresh wounds. Please tell us what happened." Nyoman said.

                          "We are with the 469th. One of us is from Rolling Thunder. We got separated from the main column as we chased a group of Hive strays that had been sniping us from the flank. There were more than we expected, and we were hit with missiles. We were thrown off track, and had to keep running for a position..."

                          "The wounds, man, the wounds. What caused them? Not this one, pulmonary here, femur, brain..." Arihclinn snapped, then went on checking the wounded - some nine of them.

                          They listened to the dishevelled soldier whilst giving injections, feeling limbs, applying bandages.

                          "Impact rifles. We made it back here after the choppers came and went after our attackers. But then we got hit by some from the forest over there. We were under fire for hours. They're still around somewhere."

                          "I doubt it." Nyoman said. "Not with planes around. We have to do surgery. We have three dead, two critical. Frog, what do you say?"

                          "I say you're right. Let's go."

                          In the next hour, the two surgeons made considerable progress in saving the lives of the two critical cases. What they had also done, was allow two of the others to die.

                          Of the nine men and women, only one had already been deceased. The two others had been beyond help, and had only been given pain killers. "That's what you do in triage. Don't believe in crap about deciding who's gonna live. You decide who's gonna die. Accept that, and you've come a long way to becoming a good triage surgeon." That's what Arihclinn, then her teacher, had told her in the academy. It had proved very true.

                          "We have to get them over to the plane. We will use the torsion stretchers. If you can walk, help." Nyoman said.

                          The hard, battle-toughened soldiers obeyed the little woman with the crystal-clear voice like so many puppies. Once the tiny personnel hold of the VTOL needle was loaded, the plane wafted up into the air again, and left.

                          "PA strip, One-Two Nyepi here, coming in. Have those ambulances ready, over." Nyoman said into the comm. Arihclinn was down in the hold, doing what he could.

                          The suns went down. In the distance out at sea, a low, dark stripe out on the horizon - Hive territory. Nyoman shivered, and began the turn in to Plex Anthill.

                          ------------------
                          Numquam turbae misceri
                          [This message has been edited by Tokek Belerang (edited August 10, 1999).]
                          Numquam turbae misceri

                          Comment


                          • I paid the waiter after Paula had gone, and summoned a cab to take me to the Aerospace Center.

                            SAC Headquarters I said to the cabbie.

                            He weaved his way through the chaos that was downtown Sparta Command these days. The area around the old Command Center was a hive of activity (I smiled inwardly as the pun came to mind) as the former crew were clearing the rubble and detritus of the explosion.

                            The radiation containment forces had already completed their spraying, and declared the zone once again habitable – we had nothing to go by so far on Chiron, but the old earth record after the last Indo-Sino conflict had been three weeks. The technique had been perfected in the Latino wars after some earlier experimentation. I made a mental note to have the scientists examine if the nitrogen suffusion had anything to do with it.

                            We rolled up to the airbase. It was teeming with people. I was still recognized, and waved through the perimeter fence, right up to my old parking stall, now occupied with Slat’s PTV.

                            I paid the cabbie, and went in.

                            People everywhere, and civilians mostly.

                            I bumped into Jill Hughes in a corridor.

                            “Googlie” she shouted, giving me a hug. “Thank goodness for at least one old familiar face.”

                            “Why, Jill?” I asked. “Who are all these people?”

                            “They’re the government – Federation and Base,” she replied. “All – or at least most – moved in here after their complex got blown up at Command Center. The SAC’s the only federation-wide network still operating with any degree of security, so they’ve gravitated here. It’s driving Slats wild. But gotta run – see ya.” She pecked me on the cheek as she hustled off.

                            ‘Hmmm,’ I thought. ‘The bureaucrats are all here. That suits me just fine.’

                            +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                            I found slats in his office, looking harassed indeed.

                            “Slats,” I boomed to his back as I entered without knocking.

                            “Googlie” he said. “Welcome to the zoo. What brings you here?”

                            “Oh,” I replied, “the same as everyone else. Infrastructure, order, communications. In short, Slats, I’m here to run the civilian government.

                            “And with that in mind, I’m going to commandeer the Staff Boardroom and the CiC’s guest office and aide’s office. And I’d like to borrow Hargreaves for a spell. You need to appoint your own XO anyway, someone who’s been through the wars with you, and will be embracive of change. Hargreaves was too long with mew to welcome change, and he’ll make a first class admin assistant to me.”

                            “Yeah, I could go along with that,” Slats replied, looking at me shrewdly.

                            “Has the Junta approved your new role?” he asked. “I know I’m new and may not yet get all the communiques, but I don’t remember seeing anything about it.”

                            “Oh, I cleared it with Gavin”, I said airily, “He’s onside”.

                            Slats shrugged.

                            “I guess it’s OK then. I’ll buzz Hargreaves and assign him to you. You should take this”

                            He handed me the original University ransom note.

                            +++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                            I set up shop in Santiago’s guest office.

                            Hargreaves reported almost immediately, saluting.

                            “Basil” I said, shaking hands. “Welcome to the team.”

                            He shook my hand somewhat warily.

                            “What team, Sir. What are we doing. More specifically, what are you doing and what’s my role?”

                            “Firstly”, I replied, “let’s get the groundrules straight. I’m now a civilian, so it’s not ‘Sir’, and there are no salutes. You can call me Googlie or Scott as you see fit.

                            “Secondly, I’m assuming command of the civilian government in Corazon’s absence. Gavin Burge is heading the Junta and has assumed total military command.”

                            Basil’s eyes widened.

                            “A coup?” he asked.

                            “No, no” I replied somewhat impatiently. “Just a streamlining of the Junta command structure to meet the exigencies of the situation. With the war, the abduction, the hostage threat, the nuke aftermath, etc. we need to focus on what needs to be done.”

                            “What hostage threat?” Hargreaves asked.

                            I realized he didn’t know she was alive.

                            “Sit down, Baz”, I said, and filled him in from the beginning – as much as I knew.

                            “Phew”, he exclaimed. “plots within plots.”

                            “Now you see why law and order are paramount,” I replied. “Tell me, are Marlo and Alfredo here?”

                            He nodded his assent.

                            “Get them to the Boardroom “ I said. Marlo was Sparta Command’s governor and Alfredo her administrator. “let’s get Operation Cleanup started.”

                            I couldn’t not think in military terms.

                            Comment


                            • The Rescue
                              (Dcole78 and Ryann)


                              After he had made certain that the sub was secure Baldwin contacted his fleet. "I am sure you have been following what has been happening recently. Know that the command structure is still intact, the meeting was holographic. Santiago however is missing. We believe she is being held nearby, all available units should go to the navel graveyard and await further instructions"

                              "The Navel Graveyard, what's there captain" asked one of the Seamen. "The SS Santiago" replied Baldwin. The crew fell silent. They were standing in a small group by the dock. After the riot, initiated by Baldwin, had ended the dock had quickly become deserted.

                              "No we just wanted everyone to think it was sunk, now lets get to the sub and set course for the graveyard"

                              "Wait something's coming." Jeneba began.

                              "Holy ****", exclaimed Jensen, the sub's weapons officer.

                              "What?" asked Baldwin, whirling round to look where he was pointing.

                              Down the wharf was coming the biggest mindworm they had ever seen.

                              Baldwin's men formed a protective circle round the woman and their captain, their weapons drawn, ready.

                              "Funny", said Aldrich, the ship's electronics warfare operative. "From all I've read we should be experiencing excruciating headaches about now."

                              "No" blurted Jeneba.

                              They all looked at her.

                              She had her eyes closed, and was swaying gently back and forth, first on one foot, then the other. Apart from her 'No', her lips were moving soundlessly.

                              The mindworm stopped a few feet from them. The odor was muskily ginger scented. To a man, they experienced just the tingle of a neural sweep, the merest suggestion of a pinprick pain just behind the right eyeball, and simultaneously thought "Alphonso. Friend"

                              Jeneba opened her eyes.

                              "Alphonso knows. About a mile north there is a cave only accessible from the sea. Santiago is being held there. Lightly guarded by humans - he doesn't understand electronics or automation. The human's an empath, so she'll know we're coming unless Alphonso and I can set up a diversion. You'll need to use the sub, I think, and then go in with dinghies or something similar to shore. The cave entrance is about 50 feet up a cliff face, with some steps cut into the rock from the little concealed dock. He and I will approach from the left side we should be close enough for a telepathic diversion. She's going to be moved tonight - he doesn't know when, so we'll have to get cracking."

                              "You got all that from this mindworm?" Baldwin asked incredulously.

                              "Yeah." said Jeneba. "Now let's get going. No need to synchronize your watches or anything dramatic like that, we can do it this way."

                              She stopped speaking.

                              Baldwin was aware of the knowledge - for want of a better word - the intuitive affirmation that Jeneba was in his mind. 'Move' he 'heard' from her. 'I'm going' he thought. 'Good' came into his mind. One problem though how are we going to transport the mindworm? The answering thought entered his mind but not form Jeneba. "Alphonso transportation provide" Turning toward the sub he saw an isle of the deep rise up beside it.

                              "To the sub , men. Let's get this show on the road." His men were not empaths. Far from it. They needed the old fashioned orders.

                              Baldwin saw Jeneba put her head close to the mindworm, as if the pair of them were hatching some conspiracy."

                              "That lady's got guts, that's all I can say", he thought. "You wouldn't catch me putting my head that close to a mindworm."

                              He got into the conning tower, and they cast off.

                              Baldwin stood in the Command center of the SS Santiago. A year ago the world had been told it had sunk, today it would see action saving the leader it was named for. Yes he thought the fusion engines and AAA missiles that the scientists had recently finished installing would be quite useful. Around the sub stood the hulks of old ships and on the shore the metal recycling plant. "What a perfect hiding place" he thought. "Who would think to look for the next generation of subs in the scrap heap?" Around him stood his eight best men, and Jeneba. Alphonso and the isle of the deep waited hidden in the wreckage. "Yes, we might just be able to pull this off" he thought as he turned to face Jeneba.

                              "Can you locate where exactly Santiago's being held?"

                              Jeneba screwed up her face, concentrating intently.

                              "Not exactly", she said. "It's north of here, quite nearby, no more than a kilometer away, at most. I'm picking up jumbled thoughts - there's only two of them, I think, Corazon and another. Intense hate feelings from both parties, betrayals from one."

                              "All right get back to Alphonso and lead us in the right direction, men you know what you have to do"

                              ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                              A few minutes later he spotted the small harbor mouth, just where Jeneba said it would be.

                              Looking up, he could see the mouth of the cave, as advertised.

                              He scanned the cliff face through his night vision binoculars.

                              The steps were there, crudely fashioned into the rock.

                              Then he saw them

                              A sensor array and a pair of remote missile launchers partially submerged in the water stood guard over the dock. Already they were turning toward his sub"

                              "Blast," he thought. "They've spotted us" as he quickly climbed back into the sub and shouted "Flood the ballast tanks and Dive Now!"
                              "Commander I wouldn't advise ..the water is quite shallow here" came the hesitant reply.

                              "Just do it" screamed Baldwin

                              The sub lurched as it dove underwater, suddenly a boom was heard behind the sub and Baldwin, along with several other crew members, had to steady himself to keep from falling.

                              "Damage report" he shouted

                              "None sir..but if we had dove a second later"

                              "Jenson, can you get a lock on those missile turrets"

                              "Aye captain"

                              "Then fire at will"

                              A woos was heard as the missals left the sub and an almost deafening boom as they both found there target.

                              "Periscope depth" Shouted Baldwin

                              Looking out through the periscope he could see the ruined hulks of the missile launchers, Thankfully enough of the dock was still present that his men could disembark.

                              "Bring us in as close as you can, then surface the isle will have to take us the rest of the way"

                              "Jeneba" He thought "now would be the time for some of that distraction"

                              One by one the men disembarked from the isle onto the remains of the dock. Sporadic fire had come from the cave but it had been wild and disjointed, "courtesy of Jeneba and Alphonso" thought Baldwin.

                              "All right men" we have to get to the top of that staircase "and we must be sure not to hurt Santiago in the process"

                              "You" he said pointing at his two most athletic men "are with me…were going to run up the stairs and enter the cave" "The rest of you spread out and provide cover fire..give them something to shoot at beside us" "All right men let's get to it"

                              Instantly his men spread out and he and his two companions sprinted from the cover of the destroyed missile turrets toward and up the staircase. The fire from the cave increased as the men on the staircase became visible luckily all the shots went wide. "Alphonso and Jeneba are doing their job well he thought"
                              Seeing a couple of faces inside the cave he risked a couple of shots as he sprinted the last two feet up the stairs.

                              The battle in the cave had been short, the few hive guards incapacitated by Alphonso and Jeneba had been no match for Baldwin and his men. There dead bodies now lined the cave mouth. He was not surprised when he entered the interior of the cave to see Santiago's aide lying on the floor clutching her head and writhing in agony. He himself - and his men - had felt Jeneba's and Alphonse's presence gnawing away at the back of their minds for the last ten minutes or so.

                              He heard a voice, and turned to peer into the darkened recesses of the cave.
                              It was Corazon

                              "These chains are electrified, if you try and untie me or disable the generator you will electrocute me."

                              Nodding Baldwin moved to the mouth of the cave

                              "Aldrich, get up here"

                              ************************************************** **************************
                              20 minutes later the chains had been deactivated and Santiago and her aide had been ferried to the sub. Alphonso and Jeneba had left afterwards leaving the Sub to bring Santiago triumphantly home. As Baldwin was about to close the hatch and get underway he heard the unmistakable sound of rotor blades and he saw a fully armed hive chopper coming in fast. "Were not out of the woods yet he thought" as he slammed the sub hatch and climbed down the ladder. "Jenson, take out that chopper he shouted" as soon as the order was given he heard the woos of missals leaving the sub and a satisfying explosion as they hit their target. "Good work Jenson" he said as he turned to officially welcome Santiago back to Sparta but the words died in his throat, because though everything else was the same the face he saw as he turned was no longer hers.

                              Comment


                              • Somewhere north of Hawk of Chiron, a former crew went home to their shelters. While out in the field, they bunked in structures similar to the old Nissen huts of Earth, half-cylinders of steel, squat and ugly. The sky was overcast this evening - no spectacular twin sunsets, for a change.

                                "See ya, boys." Len Delcampo said.

                                "Yeah, Len. Sleep tight."

                                "No problems there." Len remarked to Tom Meadows, who was walking beside him. Tom was his daughter's fella, and he worked on the same shift as Len.

                                "No cards tonight then, Len?" Tom asked.

                                "Always time for that. No worries. But I'm glad tomorrow's my day off."

                                They worked shifts on the formers, eight-hour stints, another crew always taking over at the end. Formers seldom stood idle.

                                "Same here." Tom said.

                                They stepped into the shelter's airlock and after taking off their kit, stepped straight into the shower room.

                                After their meal, taken together with Len's wife Dot and their daughter Lise, Len looked round the table.

                                "Well... Let's give it a whirl, shall we?"

                                "Why not."said Dot, and got up to find the cards.

                                Lise switched off the comm set. Nothing but old news on Santiago's disappearance, and the war with The Hive. So far away from the Hawk!

                                "Drink?" Len inquired with Tom.

                                "I wouldn't mind." Tom said.

                                "Ladies?"

                                "No, thanks." Dot said. "You have some, Lise."

                                "Yeah, I will. And some water, please."

                                They sat themselves in battle formations, Len facing Lise and Dot facing Tom. Cards, a notepad and pen, a bottle of Old Spartan, and a couple of glasses. Tom dealt the first hand, and they all picked up their cards and studied them.

                                "I'm not doing it." Len said.

                                "Nor I." said Dot.

                                "No." said Lise.

                                "I'll take 'em." Tom said.

                                "You deals 'em, you gets 'em." said Len. Tom grinned. Len led the ace of diamonds. Dot, with a look of apprehension on her face, followed the queen. Lise added the king with a click of her tongue.

                                "Sorry." Tom said, played the eight of clubs, and palmed the trick.

                                "Nasty little man!" Len exclaimed. Tom continued with the jack of clubs.

                                "What about that Burge, though." Dot said.

                                "Yes!" Lise exclaimed. "Just pronounces himself Great Leader like nothing happened, and lets that senile half-wit Allardyce clean up the paperwork."

                                "Now, now." Len said, grinning. "But I'll grant you this, he does have a nerve. And another thing, I read in the Hawk Chronicle this morning that our governor fully supports Burge's being boss man." He frowned at his cards, and surrendered his last club to Tom's persistent leading.

                                "Well, that counts for something, doesn't it?" Dot said. "I mean, I don't know what you think, but I rate our new governor quite highly."

                                "He's certainly improved things around here. Even the formers get tune-ups since he's been in charge." Tom said, and played the eight of hearts.

                                "Efficiency. That's what it is. There's no more stuff lying around in the warehouses, collecting dust or rotting away. You'd have thought he would just have used the place to rush-build Noodles and Pens. But he finished the biology lab first, and there hasn't been a single case of planet blight since that." Len said, and frowned darkly at Dot playing her ace onto his ten.

                                "Hey! They're marching, old man! Snap to it. And stop whistling." Lise snapped. Len continued to whistle - all in good spirit, these games. He loved them. He was whistling the tune to "Needles and Pins", which featured in the parody a well-known Morganite comedian was doing on Scott Allardyce.

                                Tom and Dot indeed swept the game, and got a full score.

                                "Well, I'm not so positive about your mister Levavassier." Lise said, sipping her drink of water. "Tom and I have been inquiring about that Hab Complex, but we can forget all about it for a while. And I heard at the office that after they finish fitting out those new detachments for the 469th, it'll be rovers for Rolling Thunder."

                                "Well, there is a war on, Lise." Dot said, and stole a sip from Lise's shot glass.

                                "Yeah, yeah, yeah." Lise said. "Anyone turn yet?"

                                "Yes. It's spades." Tom said.

                                "Pass." Dot said.

                                "Pass." said Lise.

                                "Not me." Tom said.

                                "And I'm not going to do it." said Len. "Seems like you're up for it, dear."

                                Dot led the jack of hearts. "What's this I hear about this new kind of road that's supposed to come?" she asked.

                                Len and Tom looked at each other and laughed.

                                "Did I say something silly?" Dot asked.

                                "No, no." Tom said. "We heard from old man Jenkins today. It's monopole magnets, and the road is called Mag Tube. It looks like we'll be building them soon. Only Jenkins called them..."

                                "Monopoly Magnets!" Len interjected, laughing out loud, and hit his fist on the table.

                                "Yeah, and they were a Morganite invention that the governor had acquired on the hush, seeing as they were Monopoly, and all." Tom explained, barely containing his laughter.

                                "You can't be serious! And he's supposed to be your overseer. I told you last time at that meeting he was one short of a full deck." Dot said.

                                "More like a couple." Lise said.

                                "Anyway. Looks like enough work for the former crews." Len said, and poured himself another drink.

                                They continued their game. It wasn't too bad a life, in Sparta.

                                ------------------
                                Numquam turbae misceri
                                [This message has been edited by Tokek Belerang (edited August 10, 1999).]
                                Numquam turbae misceri

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