"Crossfire Tales"

[Bearcat]

[Erased At Originator's Request]
[This message has been edited by DanQ (edited December 29, 1999).]

[Captain Kirk]

Sparta Command
HQ

Colonel Corazon Santiago sat at her desk reading a report on a datapad. She had read and reread reports for weeks now. Ever since
the University Base incident the Spartans had stepped up their guard. The University, and Peacekeepers would certainly be attacking them instead of that unfortunate faction on the Isle of Dexamenus. She had heard recently that the base had fallen to Peacecorps and the University military.

Certainly the Spartans could have defended themselves better. From what she had heard they had been using Impact rifles against MMI and chaos weaponry. That was seemingly suicide. But apparently they had fought well. Santiago was almost willing to overlook the fact that they had framed her for their atrocity. If they warriors of such strong will.

The chime to her door sounded. She pushed the clearence button on her desk. General Pascal Kabila stepped through the door. She nodded to him. He took a seat.

"Is there something you need General ?" she said. Kabila nodded. His rugged Congolese features stood out against his black uniform.

"Colonel some of our scout patrols have noticed an irregularity in some of our territory" he said. Santiago noddedn ot thining anything about it. This planet was still alien to htem. Many things they didn't know.

"It's probably nothing General" she said. Kabila shifted in his seat uneasily. Santiago looked up exasperated.

"Is there anything else General ?" she asked angrily. Kabila shook his head and excused himself. Santiago smiled slowly. She was simply tired and frustrated.

-------

Agent Tristan Shell and Patrick Donovan stood by the Network Node at Morgan Industries. Their assignment was to drain some energy credits. The Spartans needed money. Their probe teams needed experience. So the Morganites were the logical choice. Donovan whistled long and low. Two members of Corporate Security were moving away from their post.

Shell and Donovan moved into the Network Node. They nodded to the scientists and moved to the main computer. Shell accessed the computer network. Buisness and economic reports flashed by him. Finally he accessed the main Morganic treasury. He worked the panel until the question came up.

PLEASE SELECT AMOUNT
1000
500
100

Shell picked choice A. He waited while 1000 energy credits downloaded into the Spartan economy network. Then he turned and nodded to Donovan who had been standing guard. Both of them hurried otu of the Network Node. They had to get back home. They would be promoted to commando.

[Cotroneo]

0600 hours
Morgan Interstellar
Warehouse District 1-3-5 Red Sector

“Come over here.” Master Kurita ordered, interrupting his student’s stretching exercises.

Many people would say that Kurita’s techniques were harsh or too demanding, but his students were known for their great skill and professionalism under any conditions. Yet, his pupil now, was far from a ‘normal’ person. Certain individuals directly on the council had directly requested Kurita because of his known ability to train almost anyone or anything.

“Do you remember those real world simulations several weeks ago in the holo rooms?” Kurita looked at his student with a mysterious glare, which partly startled his pupil.

“Yes master.” His student walked up to him and sat down into a lotus posture on the mats, which covered the training room.

“It is time then.” Kurita stood up from his stool that he was sitting on and walked directly next to his sitting pupil. He looked down at his disciple as if he was a god looking down at his minions.

“Master… time for what?” The student could not raise his eyes to meet his master’s.

“For your first trial.” Kurita motioned for his student to stand up next to him.

“Trial, is there some test I must take?” His student asked with complete ignorance of what he would be soon asked to do.

“Not a test… a mission.” Master Kurita put his hand into his small shirt pocket a pulled out a small rectangular black box and handed it to his student.

The student still a bit confused reached for the box, and slowly appraised the cubicle. Then proceeded to click a small gray marker, which was flush with the rest of the box.

“They are advanced optical sensor eye contacts.” Master Kurita said as his looked at his student evaluating the concave pieces of advanced hardware. “These optical contacts will aid you in your mission. I know you have your own great abilities, but don’t be ignorant about the power of technology.”

“As you command Master.” His student replied as he slowly installed the two pieces into their respective eye sockets.

“When you leave tomorrow… your mission specifics will be downloaded into your opticals. If you have any doubts… remember your training… and your special gifts you have been anointed with.” Master Kurita turned around and headed for the door.

‘Leave… Tomorrow…’ His student pondered as he sat back down into a lotus position.

“Oh yes… you need a name.” Kurita turned back around as he reached the door, remembering his last task.

“A name?”

“We use… names… to simplify and specify communication between two individuals. You will find that communication between individuals will be an important skill in the… outside world.” His mentor responded, although thinking if his own masters were wise in sending the specimen out so early, after creation and before his training’s completion.

“How do you get a… name?”

Kurita chuckled to himself about his student’s ignorance. “Well, traditional human parents give their children a name, but in your case, this doesn’t imply. I guess, you should choose your name.”

“Specter?” His student said as he looked if his master liked it.

Master Kurita let out another chuckle, this time out loud, and walked out of the room without giving his own say into the matter at hand.

[Bearcat]

Gaia's Landing
Main Square

Thousands of Gaian citizens had packed the main square to hear Lady Deirdre speak. The buzz of conversation was deafining. Soldiers in green armor were holding the line. Attempting to keep the citizens back. The crowd cheered as Lady Deirdre stepped onto the balcony followed by Dr. Scott and Lindly.
Two guards also dressed in green followed.

Jonathan Doig eyed them. They were armed with shredder pistols. The soldiers were armed with chaos rifles. He reached inside his trenchcoat and took ahold of an Impact pistol.

"Citizens of Gaia's Stepdaughters. It brings me great pleasure to announce the beggining of a new era. A new step in Gaian relations.
Within days we will sign a Treaty of Friendship with The Lord's Believers. Yes this might cost us our pact with the Peacekeepers but it will gain us a more powerful friend" she said. Doig started shoving his way through the crowd.

"We will always protect Planet. But from now on we will be guided by the God of the Believers. Yes I know that this seems strange and unusual. But I have seen the truth and I pray you all will too. Planet is a creation of the Christian God" she continued. Doigreached the perimeter of the crowd. Two soldiers pointed their chaos rifles at him.

"I have talked with Sister Miriam and we have agreed to exchange representatives. And we need not have any more worries about Morgan. Not his probe teams and not his weak bloated soldiers" she said. Doig raised his Impact pistol. But one soldier grabbed him. One other quickly disarmed him. Then his arm was wrenched behind him. Deirdre still continued with her religious psycho-blather.

"And citizens don't worry. This will be a harmless transistion. Yes there will be turbulence but we have God lookiing over us" she finished. The crowd broke into a buzz of conversation as Deirdre retreated into her quarters. Doig watched as he was dragged away to a detention facility.

- - - - - - -

Song of Planet

The leader of Planet's Voice sat behind a desk in a darkened room. Two of his aides stood in front of him nervously. He regarded them and spoke.

"So it's official ? We are now a fundamentalist faction ?" he asked. One of them nodded. He slammed his fist on the desk.

"And our agent failed ?" he aksed angrily. Again one of them nodded. He sighed. Then he spoke in a near whusper.

"We are turning into Believers. Planet wants us to respect it. Not God" he said. Than he turned back to them.

"We will stop this madness one way or another" he said. His aides nodded
[This message has been edited by Bearcat (edited January 04, 2000).]

[Barshy]

Judgement Seat

It was a good and bad day for Governor Esau. After nearly three sleepless nights of fasting and praying, Esau had finally come to a decision to abandon Judgement Seat. The teeming and endless masses of mindworms from the "Cult of Planet" faction (Believer infiltrators finally discovered this new group's actual name) were nearing Judgement Seat, and he knew his trance/empath soldiers would not hold up.

The reports from Glory of God were frightening. Even after the mindworms burrowed their way into the spines of thousands of Believers, the Cult soldiers systemactically massacred those Believers who would not worship Planet. Esau smiled, filled with pride that those Believer citizens would rather face martyrdom than to recant their beliefs. As for the small minority that did, they will face their due punishment in the afterlife.

Furthermore, this major atrocity provided a greater justification for the Believer war against the Cult. Perhaps other factions will no longer see us as the enemy, Esau thought.

The good news paled in light of the bad, but it was good nevertheless. The Lord's Council, after Minister Matthew's memorandum on the potential effects of the Gaian-style economy called "green," finally decided to restructure. Esau prayed God would spare His followers from the brutal Cult after this change.

He looked out the window. Crowds of people filled the streets, filling vehicles and heading for the dock, all trying to escape the oncoming Cult army. Refugee pods were constructed at the last minute to ferry those to the mainland, but Esau knew most of the Believers would not escape in time. Billowing clouds of smoke from burning buildings rose to meet the blood-red sky. The scene was somber, yet appropriate, as if God was looking down and weeping for His children.

********************************************
New Jeruselum
Main Cathedral
Midnight

That idiot... Elizabeth thought. Sean's suspicions are making this mission harder than it should be.

She mentally turned on her optical nanocamera, the same contraption used by Zakharov. Several lines of green text seemed to float a few feet in front of her. The title was "Instructions for Construction of Weapon Z-AQ7."

Weapon Z-AQ7 was just a fancy name for the massive experimental bomb University scientists had been working on for years. It was brilliant; if the bomb worked, it would unleash not just an explosion, but other devastations.

"A monument of our achievements," heralded Zakharov's closest peers. It combined Advanced Subatomic Theory (AST), Retroviral Engineering, Polymorphic Software, and High Energy Chemistry.

Upon detonation, an electromagnetic pulse with a radius of 100 miles would shoot out, not just jamming all electrical eqiupment but causing massive short circuits as well, exploding all electrical equipment. Encapsulated in each particle of the pulse would be poisonous checmical elements and deadly viruses, "which would be released into the air. Finally, the explosion itself would be massive enough to cause total obliteration within a radius of 50 miles," Elizabeth said.

She paused. That was strange; she had said all that without even realizing it, as if she was preprogrammed and had no control over her actions... A side effect of the chemicals no doubt.

"The Believers will pay. Let this bomb be a testament to the awesome powers of Science. Let this show the world what ivory tower research can accomplish. Not even 'God' can save you now," Elizabeth found herself saying, feeling a wicked sneer coming across her face. Or... was it Zakharov who said that? No matter.

Once she set this up, she would immediately activate it, and in 3 days it would go off. Such a long countdown was necessary for the bomb to effectively prepare itself. Of course, that meant if any Believer found out, the plan would be ruined.

Elizabeth proceeded confidently, however. Only she knew about the secret room in the Main Cathedral. Only she... and Sean. It was where they spent the most time together during seminary, to get away from the distractions of the world. The Main Cathedral was where most of the seminary classes took place.

Elizabeth laughed. There was that one time when both Sean and Elizabeth had forgotten to do their homework for Old Testament Class, but didn't realize it until they got to the Cathedral. Elizabeth then ran into the secret room to finish it, knowing no one would see her there, and when she got their she found Sean doing the same thing, ranting, "How can anybody get these stupid minor prophets straight??!!?" How embarrassed he was when he saw Liz walk into the room!

From then on it became a usual hang out place for them. They also made a childish pact between them that they would keep for life... the rule was that no one could go into the room unless the other was with them. It was like a secret clubhouse, and none of them ever broke that rule.

Thus, as long as Elizabeth stayed away from the room for the next 3 days, Sean would never go into it.

Elizabeth felt something wet on her cheek. A tear? For what? You know Sean's gonna die... "Why am I crying?" She felt her mind being torn apart.. How could you betray your own people? Foreign thoughts invaded her. "My own people are the... the University.." She strained and sweat, dizzily turning left and right to see what.. or who was talking to her. God watches you.. Conscience? Holy Spirit? Miriam? "God doesn't exist.." she stammered, clenching her fist. "Or does He?"

Suddenly, what felt like a million volts of electricity shot through her body, scattering her thoughts and jolting her limbs. Immediately she was brought back to calm, vision focused on her mission. The scientists had programmed her well, and prepared for all emergencies and battles of conscience within her.

"The Believers must die. Science shall reign."

With that, she set about her work.

[The_Progenitors]

Aboard Planetary Scoutship 427_s
Chiron Year 2216

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

Conqueror Judaa Marr was all business.

“Astrogator,” he resonated. “Have you made contact with ‘Yfolle?”

Soone, his Astrogator, altered:

“Conqueror, we are trying. It appears that she is busy at present.”

Marr silently cursed, the inward resonance barely detectable by his crew.

“We must make contact before entering the wormhole,” he resonated sharply, the harsh wave amplified by the confines of the cramped cockpit.

Y’Apathar, his technical officer, looked up as she detected the concerned emanations from her superior. She looked over to Soone.

“We will soon be entering. Try again,” she resonated.

Soone groaned, and altered: “I am. Constantly.”

Just then the screens lit up as the resonance burst was captured, decoded and displayed.

Hra’ath:

Follow; stealth advised; let her lead you to Manifold Six. Once confirmed, destroy her and summon us. Now ‘Yfolle.

‘Yfolle:

Scoutship class, fast, singularity resonance drive, wormhole navigation capable. I surmise Epsilon Eridani, then slingshot to wormhole for Sirius or Sol. We collectively resonate Sol. You can catch her in the wormhole, so exercise caution.

Resonance cease.

Soone looked over at Marr and Y’Apathar.

“That told us nothing,” he resonated, emanating distress and concern. “We don’t know if she’s armed, has she Gnats or, worse, some stronger equivalent that their scientists have dreamed up…”

“Enough,” altered Marr, the resonance booming throughout the scoutship. He toggled the communicator:

“Attention all crew. We are about to enter a wormhole for an extended period of around a year. While gravity will be distorted, exercises will continue. I want us ready to face anything on our exit.”

They settled back for the entry.

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

“Closing”, resonated Y’Apathar softly.

Soone was busy feeding the co-ordinates.

This was second nature to Marr and his crew. As a scoutship, they had been responsible for charting several of the spacial interstices that now had wormhole labels. Some led directly between star systems through warped space. Some were merely gravitational tunnels that allowed movement without the bombardment of space detritus.

Legend had it that at one time the six Manifolds were linked by wormholes that had been manufactured by the Progenitors themselves, suggesting a power and a technology that was now lost in antiquity, but like Planetforming, offered avenues of research for the Usurper scientists to explore.

The legends also said that The Flowering had distorted the fabric of space itself, closing wormholes and opening new, or rerouting wormholes to different destinations. No one knew now, of course, as they charted what they found.

The old, mothballed, battlecruiser, Will of Harmony, now a museum, had galactic charts that indicated warped space and wormholes, but after exploring a few and finding them dead ends the charts were framed and put on display for educational and tour groups.

As they approached the wormhole, Marr relaxed. The instrument sensors, representing the gravitational distortion as a series of colors, showed everything normal. Like B’rath had done before her, Y’Apathar was piloting by sense now, the resonance radar picking up and returning the echoes of the variances in the magnetic field surrounding the singularity.

“Going in” she resonated softly, as the scoutship entered the outer fringes of the gravitational distortion.

Marr never was totally comfortable with the loss of control that wormhole transit represented, but it certainly was preferable to open space.

He settled back for the journey.

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

One year later
Caretaker Scoutship, Preservation

“We’re being followed,” Kaala L’mota resonated to her two companions.

“How can you determine?” altered Lular H’minee, “and by what?”

“Our resonance detectors are picking up a bow wave of sorts from behind us through the wormhole. It’s increasing in intensity, so whatever it is it must be gaining on us,” L’mota altered in turn, fluttering her mandibles and emanating a degree of agitation.

“I sense it too,” resonated Mwindu B’rath, the Astrogator. “It’s distorting our sensors somewhat, and as my calculations indicate we’re approaching egress, we need to be prepared for anything once we exit this wormhole in the Epsilon Eridani system.”

“And probably Usurper,” altered L’mota.

“Hmmmm,” resonated H’minee. “I’d like to blow the wormhole apart as soon as we exit, but we need to leave it in place for the battlefleet to follow us.”

“And we don’t know even that we can destroy it,” altered B’rath. “Better the Hornets,” she re-altered.

H’minee agreed, toggling the commlink to the aft quarters.

“Hornet Commanders,” she scanned the list “Voss and ‘Yvet. Deploy as soon as we egress, and engage the Usurper craft following. Destroy if possible, cripple is a sound alternative, delay if all else fails, then engage stasis and drift until rescued. I will advise Harmony. Courage.”

In the aft of the Preservation Commanders Voss and Parvik went to their Hornets, two of eight that the Preservation carried. They were agile one-couchers, resonance modified singularity drive, but with limited range. Fully cloaked, and equipped with resonance armor, they represented the pinnacle of Caretaker scientific research into weaponry. Resonance Bolt lasers and String Disrupter cannon formed their armament. But the key, from the Caretakers’ perspective, was their inbuilt sentience.

Commander Voss shuffled over to his Hornet, ‘Aquila.

‘Ready?” he resonated inwardly, softly.

The altering came into his mind, as real as if it had disrupted the air and the magnetic fields within the Preservation, so much so that he felt it in his being.

“Ready we are. Action to see? Victory needed. Stasis uncomfortable.”

He reached out and touched the layered skin of the craft. He sensed ‘Aquila shimmering under his touch as she prepared her systems for battle.

The mechanic looked over at Voss.

“Commander.” he resonated. “How much provisions will be needed?”

“Five turnings for me,” he altered. “But make sure you provide enough for ‘Aquila. I can engage stasis as soon as the battle is won, and enter cryosleep, but she will need time to power down and engage sleep mode.”

The engineer shook his neck in agreement and commenced loading.

Over on the starboard bay, ‘Yvet was having a similar resonance exchange with her mechanic and her Hornet, Prolle. He was slightly larger than ‘Aquila, more experienced, having tasted battle in one of the Caretaker attempts to probe the Usurper blockade of Harmony.

“Egress approaching, ten cycles,” squawked B’rath over the res-link.

Both Commanders climbed into their Hornets, and put claw to tusk to affirm to their respective mechanics that all was in order.

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

The Preservation rocketed from the wormhole into the nearspace of the starsystem Epsilon Eridani, again turning H’minee’s stomach as the gravitational field distorted then closed in behind them as they exited.

Immediately the bay doors ratcheted open and the two Hornets catapulted out.

Although their bonding was with their Commander, with whom they had trained as one since the bestowal of sentience, the whole scoutship experienced in their minds and beings the exultation of the Hornets as they sprang loose. It was picked up by their six craftbrood in the hold of the Preservation and amplified just as a simple resonance would be altered and amplified by an audience.

Freedom. To soar. To live. To experience. Goodbye, my broodmates. May you soar forever.

As the vastness of space opened the distance between the two Hornets and the vanishing Preservation, intent on picking its course close to the star to pick up speed from its gravity well for the slingshot into the Sol wormhole, the emanations became fainter and fainter.

The two Hornets, with preprogrammed maneuvers, circled back to the wormhole egress and adopted a circular holding pattern, sensors flaring.

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

Aboard Planetary Scoutship 427_s

“They’ve exited,” resonated Y’Apather quietly.

“How can you tell?” Marr altered.

“Resonance pressure. It’s clear all the way to egress,” she altered in turn.

“I don’t trust them. Launch a Gnat,” he ordered.

“Commander, is that wise?” Soone resonated, mandibles fluttering. “There is no known instance of a successful launch within a wormhole – and besides, the Gnats do not have wormhole drive capability.”

“There’s always a first,” he barked mirthlessly, the dissonating resonance reverberating throughout the command module. “Get me…..H’ras and ….. who was that idiot that tried to kill me?”

“Popos,” altered Soone.

“Yes, Popos. He’s reactivated, is he not? Out of the revivication tanks?”

Soone shook his neck in assent.

Marr decided, then resonated: “Then they shall crew the gnat. Order them aboard and launch ahead of us to scout the way. They don’t need wormhole drive, as they’ll carry our momentum, and when they exit, they’ll be able to use their normal drive.”

Their Gnat was readied, and as H’ras and Popos made themselves secure for the launch, Popos gave a quizzical wave of his mandibles. “What is my role?” he resonated.

“Report,” altered H’ras. “I’ll be so busy piloting this damned thing that I won’t have any time for sightseeing, so you’ll need to report back anything at all that you see.”

“Launch in one cycle,” came the tinny sound over their flapyokes, lacking any semblance of resonance.

They strapped themselves into their couches, and H’ras nervously gripped the old-fashioned stick that still served as a piloting tool.

“Launch”

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

Voss was quietly content, baring his teeth in a show of satisfied happiness as ‘Aquila continued to hum and sing with the joy of release. Prolle was less exuberant, having experienced this before, but still relished the freedom after so long and joined with ‘Aquila in a muted alteration to her resonance.

Suddenly ‘Yvet stiffened. her sensors had picked up the wormhole gravitational distortion as the mass inside was forcing its resonance wave forward to egress.

“Visitors,” she res-linked over to Voss. “Arming.”

As the wormhole split asunder to disgorge the Gnat, ‘Yvet fired the String Disrupter cannon, but was taken aback at the smallness of the emerging craft, having expected – and set up – for something of a size akin to that of the Preservation. The aim was therefore poor, and the disassociative energy wave harmlessly dissipoated as it reached the limits of its range.

The shockwave tumbled the Gnat, and try as they might, neither H’ras nor Popos could detect anything with their eyes nor scanners. However Popos did manage to send off a burst resonance report:

“Hostiles. Fired on us – some sort of energy wave. No damage. Must be cloaked – or remote – cannot identify threat.”

Deep in the wormhole, but rapidly approaching egress, Marr received the report.

“Cloaking. They’ve re-invented cloaking,” he resonated softly. “But their weapons will give them away.

“Y’Apather. Execute full braking maneuver. Try to stop at egress. Use the wormhole.”

“But Commander,” she altered, mandibles fluttering. “That’s never been done before. I mean, I don’t know that we can come to a stop in a wormhole. We’re only surviving as is by full gravitational dampers. If we stop, the power needed to fight the elongational pull could drain our energy.”

“Am I surrounded by idiots?” Marr roared, the harshness of the resonance drawing the mandibles tight for both Soone and Y’Apather. “Because it’s never been done before just means that it has never been tried before. They’re waiting for us out there, and expect us to come rocketing out at just sublight speed. Well let’s just do the unexpected and poke our snouts out as far as our tusks and see what’s happening.”

Y’Apather cut the wormhole and the resonance augmented singularity drive and hit the res-link.

“Prepare to reverse,” she resonated gruffly, giving the crew some cycles to prepare themselves.

Then she fired the auxiliary thrusters, inverting the scoutship nose to stern, then reactivated the drives, this time as a braking maneuver.

“Crew all Gnats. Armed,” resonated Marr. He didn’t need to check. His crew had rehearsed this drill countless times, and the nine remaining Gnats almost instantaneously had their two unit crews on board and awaiting launch.

Outside, ‘Yvet and Prolle hung back to give Voss and ‘Aquila their first taste of battle.

The Hornet was stalking the Gnat, soaring through the spatial void between the outer planets of Epsilon Eridani, as Voss let her have the thrill of the chase. Then he tired of it, partly at the waste of energy, and partly with the realization that the mothership might soon be appearing and ‘Yvet might need assistance.

“Prepare the Resonance Bolt laser,” he inwardly resonated. ‘Aquila picked up the mute thought and armed the laser, then peaked the resonance drive to fully charge as well as to compensate for the lack of thrust when the laser fired.

The gap closed on the Gnat, then Voss fired.

The Hornet momentarily revealed herself as the weapon discharged, the resonance bolt hammering at the Gnat which seemed to lose all structural coherence before Voss’ eyes.

Suddenly it was gone, and ‘Aquila arced just clear of the debris that represented the now disintegrated Gnat, reconstituted as the girders, nuts and bolts of its assembly process.

‘Aquila sang to Prolle:

In the destruction of my prey comes glory to the Caretakers. and Prolle, more somberly, altered And in the returning to the fight comes the glory of repetition

Somewhat chastened, ‘Aquila executed a looped 180 to return to the sentry point.

Just to see exiting, not the expected Usurper battlecraft, but a horde of Gnats similar to the one just destroyed.

‘Yvet had opened fire on the first one to emerge, but had been taken aback when a second then a third appeared. The second one quickly targeted Prolle when the cloaking was down for the firing, but the high resonance armor deflected the bolt, but not without cost.

As the little Hornet was caught in the barrage its skin began to glow as the counter resonance measures produced tremendous energy discharge. This was noticeable to the marauding Gnats, until the squad commander res-linked for a change in tactics.

“Bring up Cyees,” he ordered. The harassing formation parted to let through an older Gnat still equipped with Plasma Shard cannon.

The end was swift.

The energy emissions from Prolle were like a magnet for the shard cannon, and as it fired, the energy turned against itself, subsuming the mass of the Hornet and its crew in a blinding explosion of matter and energy that lit up the space like a small supernova.

Prolle’s deathsong was short.

With courage…conquer

Voss looked on helplessly, and felt ‘Aquila’s anguish at the loss of a broodmate.

He quietened her, and thought through the process, inwardly resonating:

If I don’t fire, I don’t reveal myself.

They are not the objective, it is still to emerge.

I’ll get one shot at it, revealing myself, then we die.

‘Aquila, let us be ready, and prepare your death song.

He waited.

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

Space shimmered, formed and reformed, then there took the shape of the Usurper scoutship, barely moving.

The Gnats scurried round it protectively as its bay doors opened to receive them.

Voss took aim at the engine nacelles, and activated the String Disrupter. He reckoned that the scoutship would have adequate resonance armor rendering a resonance bolt attack useless, so chose the one chance he had.

He self-resonated, to ‘Aquila, “Maintain the fire for as long as possible. They’ll get us eventually, so let’s try and cripple the ship.”

“Target acquired,” altered ‘Aquila, in his mind. “Fire sequences ready on your command.”

“Fire.”

The string disrupter cannon fired, and one by one the huge resonator baffles on the engine nacelles of the 427_s were reduced to a flow of molecules voiding into space.

Suddenly, the ship disappeared.

Voss was stunned. But had the presence of mind to command ‘Aquila to move as soon as he stopped firing.

But too late.

The shard cannon blast found its mark, tearing through the thin shell of the Hornet and reducing it to pure energy, sending Voss and ‘Aquila to their death and cutting off the Hornet’s deathsong at its single utterance, Glory..

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

Judaa Marr was furious.

I sent out nine of you, and still no-one drew its fire. It had to be us,” he resonated. “And now we’ve lost about twenty percent of our power. The crucial twenty percent, too. We’re no faster than they are now, so we’ll always be playing catch up.”

His crew sat mute.

He turned to Soone.

“Plot the course to slingshot us to the wormhole,” he resonated. “Take us as close to the star as you dare and get us entry as fast as you can. Meanwhile recall these useless Gnats. If it weren’t for our blink displacement ability we’d all be fried by now.”

Soone shook his neck in affirmation and gave the co-ordinates to Y’Apathar.

The Gnats arrived, one by one and were stored as Y’Apathar brought the 427_s back up to its cruising speed.

They sought the wormhole for Sol

[Jasonian]

Free Drone Central
council chamber


Domai looked over the council. Every single member, except Venus, was present. Although Venus had not reported back in in quite some time, the council refused to even acknowledge she existed, at least until she started listening to orders again.

Domai began, “It’s nice to see you all again. It’s been quite a while since our last meeting, and there are several issues we need to discuss. Foreman Jeffred, please give us the latest status report from our new seabase, Coral Warehouse.

Jeffred rose to deliver his report, “The base has been founded successfully and we now have a garrison on duty there, given to us by our new pirate allies. In fact, the pirates escorted our sea colony pod to the base site and stayed with it until it had been secured. Rockmore, of course, believes that they were simply making sure we wouldn’t discover any of their base locations by accident, which is probably true.”

“The base has surplus energy and food, for the moment, but its supply of minerals is lacking. Because of this, I have authorised construction of a sea former detachment to aid in their growth. On queue is a Subsea Trunkline, that will further boost our mineral supplies, and then a chaos skimship to defend the area and base.”

Rockmore waited to be acknowledged, then said, “This is one topic I disagree with Jeff on. The skimship should come before the trunkline to increase the base’s defence as soon as we possibly.”

Jeffred rolled his eyes, “We have been through this before! The skimship would strain our support. The trunkline would boost it. Completing the trunkline first would make both projects take less time.”

Domai quickly said before the argument could continue, “I shall review both options and have a private council with you both at a later date. Is that the end of your report Jeffred?” He nodded an affirmative. “Very well then. Atlasia, you may deliver your scientific report.”

Jeffred sat down and began to mess with his personal computer. Atlasia stood and said, “Sadly, we are only about half way completed with our research program. As you may recall, we are researching Monopole Magnets in order to encourage transportation within our nation and lower it’s times. It is for this reason that I suggest we alter our current values from Wealth to Knowledge. This would make up for our reseach loss, and make our people better fighters in general. Although the Cyborgs are not known for their morale, even they have a higher overall morale then our forces.”

Domai looked annoyed, but he said, “Any other opinions on this topic?”

Everyone rose to their feet and started to argue:

“Why stop there? Switch to power and we’ll crush these machines!”
“No no no… we need to stay on wealth to support our current economic needs.”
“YES! Knowledge! Then we won’t fall behind in tech!”
“Forget them all! Switch it to None! ANARCHY!!”

Finally, Domai broke in, “Enough! We will vote on this later. My… you’re supposed to be a COUNCIL. You, YOU, are the ones that run this country, and you’re squabbling like crèche infants! If you can’t do your job without yelling, I’m sure the People can find someone that can. Now, Atlasia, is there anything else you would like to add?”

Atlasia was in fact not done, but Jeffred jumped to his feet, “Ahh… foreman? I’m sorry to interupt Miss Atlasia, but we’ve received a communication from Commander Venus!”

The council let out a collective gasp. Domai began to turn on his own computer, but Jeffred said, “No. Don’t bother Domai. It’s rather poorly written. I’ll simply give you the gist of it right now.”

Domai nodded, “Very well then. What does it say?”

Jeffred took a deep breath, and a smile crossed his face…

Location: south of Iota Station
Controling faction: Cyborgs
Several days before


Venus troop hiked up a hillside. Soon, it would be daylight. They had to move quickly if they were to get out of the open before then.

Venus quietly said over the com, “2nd, how far away are we? We’re running out of time.”

Her second checked the satellite survey reports and responded, “Not very far. In fact, as soon as we reach the top of this hill, it should—“

“Oh my… look at that!” exclaimed one of the other members.

“—be within sight,” finished the second with more then a hint of annoyance in his voice.

The rest of the probe members finished the climb and stared down into the valley before then. And what a sight it was. Down in the valley, roughly in the centre, was the Cyborg base, which must be Iota Station. It was roughly pyramidal in shape, with many distinct layers. Off to the right was a tower of some sorts with what appeared to be a transmission dish. On the opposite side was a construction site, adding a new layer onto the skin of the structure.

The thing was rather bland to look at, having no architecture. However, it’s sheer perfection gave it its beauty. It was only roughly pyramidal, but it was perfectly rough and consistent all over. There was no apparent difference between the lowermost level and the one above it, or perhaps the 10th level, except for size. And although the construction site looked different, where it was completed, it was difficult to tell that any actual construction had occurred at all.

Venus began to give orders, “Ok. We’re here to cause some riots. After they start, we will pose as Cyborgs and enter the city and spread pro-Domai propaganda. Since the Cyborgs should be inexperienced with dealing with armed internal opposition and will be in a state of disorder, we should have no problem entering and finishing our mission. Hopefully, the base will revolt and join Domai.”

One of the team members was doubtful, “Umm… Venus? How does one start a riot among robots? They are connected to the main Algorithm, correct?” Several other members nodded as to show support for this question.

But Venus replied, “Our people believe that Cyborgs have talents and drones, just as humans do. The Algorithm is not able to fully connect to the citizens. Ones that it connects well with are talents and do their job better then normal workers. However, ones that it cannot connect well with are the drones. They still have partial control of their minds and require facilities such as Rec Commons, just as normal people do.”

The team seemed to ponder the concept. After a while, Venus continued, “Several of you will climb to the top of that tower, where we believe the Algorithm’s commands are projected from. The inside will be heavily guarded, but the top should be relatively safe, although well armoured. Those members will place and activate a small EMP bomb, which will do almost nothing but slightly damage the dish. The rest of us will pose as mechanics to enter the secured zone. We should not be questioned, as the Cyborgs will assume the Algorithm sent us and let us be. With me so far?”

The team nodded, and she went on, “Once we enter the tower’s main complex, we will do the repairs but also active a second EMP bomb, this time inside the tower. This time, however, the tower should be fully shut down, and all the humans inside will be cut off from their Algorithm. The result will be chaos. We will aid the confused people and secure the base for Domai before the Cyborgs can begin to broadcast to the base again. That’s the plan.”

Several members still looked worried, “That’s… a pretty risky plan Venus. I sure hope your researchers have done a good job, or we’ll all be captured and shot for sure.”

Venus replied, “Keep your thoughts on the mission. Don’t get distracted. Now, we move. Your HUDs will tell you your task and aid you on your approach. Let’s go.”

The probes scattered as Alpha Centauri A began to rise.

[This message has been edited by Jasonian (edited January 05, 2000).]

[Jasonian]

Location: south of Iota Station


As Venus’s team moved toward the construction site, Venus couldn’t help but feel a new sensation in her mind. Probe team commanders were trained to ignore this sensation, as it seemed to appear when one’s better judgement was ignored and something risky had to be completed. This sensation is known as fear.

Yes, even the strong-willed Commander Venus wasn’t so sure about this mission. That wasn’t her first mission, of course. She had done work under Yang sabotaging or capturing Peacekeeper units. But this was the first real mission that she had been in full control of. She decided the target, the method, and the means. If it failed, she couldn’t blame Hive intelligence. Blame fell on her and her alone.

And then there was the fact that most of the technology they were using was made in Free Drone Nation. Although they are excellent builders, being efficient, perfectionists, and fast, they were not known for their brilliance. The satellite reported countless errors and programming bugs before the drones finally got it to work correctly. It was sheer luck that it had been functional in time to discover the Cyborg mainland that she was on right now. And their new covert weapons, the Cyborg virus launchers (known as the bug zappers) had never even been tested before they were used against the trapped Cyborg rovers only hours ago. Even the probe team HUDs were experimental, although they had not shown any errors so far.

Venus tried to push this fear from her minds. Fancy equipment or not, the EMP bombs would work, and they had their base maps that were stolen from those rovers. The only other thing they needed was concentration, quick thoughts, and a lot of luck. If they failed, it would be because they lacked one of those attributes.

Venus dove behind a rocky outcropping not far from the base itself, and her two team members mimicked her action. They were going to make their infiltration in the construction zone. The other team of three probes was ready to begin the accent to the tower apex. The rest of the probe team was still on the hill, monitoring their actions and Cyborg transmissions.

Over their headsets, Venus’s team got the OK to proceed, which meant the security patrol had left the area. The team walked importantly into the construction zone, and entered an open ventilation access hatch. According to their maps, this hatch would lead them to the maintenance room closest to the tower, which no doubt would be the one called to repair it when the bomb went off.

Venus and her team made quick work finding the appropriate room, and fired their bug zappers into the ventilation pipe. Within seconds, the airborne computer viruses had infiltrated the Cyborg’s bodies and shut down their cybernetic implants. This caused them to be completely cut off from the rest of the Cyborg forces, since all transmissions were made from implant-to-implant. Venus kicked out the grating and dropped into the room. It didn’t take her long to kill all ten mechanics inside.

The team began to cut cybernetic implants from the dead Cyborgs and apply them loosely to their own sculls. Although they wouldn’t stand up to a good check, there would be no reason for a check, since the Algorithm directed all activity of the Cyborgs. They then dressed in the mechanic’s uniforms and waited in the room to be called, making sure to pack breathers in their maintenance bags for when they made their escape.

This was the dull part of any probe action: the waiting. Timing was crucial, so often times hours would be wasted waiting for the exact moment to act unnoticed. One of Venus’s team members looked worried. Venus recalled her name as Seline.

“Are you having problems Seline?” Venus asked rather coldly.

Seline looked surprised at being addressed, “Ahh… no. It’s just… when we set off the EMP, the Cyborg’s implants in the area are all going to be fried. Won’t that… kill them?”

Venus herself had asked that question back at base. The truth was, they didn’t know. However, she said, “No. The implants only receive messages. They aren’t vital to life. Destroying the implants should free the Cyborg’s minds, although they won’t be exactly sure what to do with them once they have control.” Venus hoped she was right about that. If she wasn’t, the Drones might have to kill every single Cyborg if they were to win this war.

Seline, however, seemed to be reassured. Finally, after almost twenty minutes of waiting, the expected transmission came in from the hill. Since they could no longer receive transmissions, the probes on the hill would tell them when it was time to go.

“Hill command to Venus unit. We have a problem.”

Venus cursed. Problems with probe activities were never never good; “That being?” she said sharply.

“Another maintenance room was called. Three mechanics from that room have just passed by your door.”

Venus tried to stay calm. Quick thinking… need a new plan now “Hill command, is there a place where those mechanics will be alone between here and the tower lift elevator?”

“… Yes. There is a small air purification chamber near the lift.”

“Is there a ventilation duct grating in that room that connects to the one we travelled in?”

“… ah… no. The duct in that room is on a different system. There is no way to get between them from the duct you used. However, there is a grating 5 feet from the outer door of this room.”

“That’s our best chance. We’ll use that. Keep us posted on their movements.” Venus gestured to her teammates, and they climbed back into the duct.

Almost two minutes later, after some quick running in the cramped access walkway, Venus’s team found the appropriate grating. Venus asked, “Hill command, did we make in in time?”

“… yeah. The mechanics will be passing under you shortly. I recommend you let them enter the purification room, then quickly get down, open the door, and zap them.”

“Roger that. Tell us when.”

“Uhh… there is another Cyborg in the hallway a few feet behind them!”

“Crap!… ok. Don’t worry hill command. We’ll cover it.” Venus gestured at Seline, and she nodded.

“… ok. Venus… now!”

All three probes crashed through the grating. Seline quickly zapped the other Cyborg while Venus and the other member opened the door and zapped the mechanics.

“Hill command, that was rather loud and messy. Did they get any transmissions off?”

“… ahh… the other Cyborg send a simple emotion: surprise. That might be enough. Quickly hide those four in the duct and get to that life before they wonder what is taking so long.

The team members did so, then melded their faces into the typical bored look of the Cyborg citizens, and strode ahead toward the lift. The probes had done their mental part of the mission. Now, all that was left for the technology to do its.

[Jasonian]

Iota Station
Algorithm broadcast tower
Interior


Venus’s team exited the lift at the top of the tower and strode toward the only security checkpoint. Seeing the uniforms and the maintenance cases that the team carried, the Cyborg guards simply said, “Be quick. Dish computers slightly damaged from explosion from unknown source. Total repair time: no more then ten minutes. Difficulty: predicted simple”

Venus simply nodded and walked through, being careful not to say a word in case they had voice ID microphones somewhere in that checkpoint station. The team entered another lift, rose two floors, and found themselves at the top of the tower, practically surrounded by computers and heavy mechanical equipment.

Seline began to work at the computer station and isolate the problem while the other member began to set up the EMP bomb. Venus, however, did not begin to work. Instead she contacted hill command.

“Hill command, are there any other ways out of this tower other then the lifts?”

“… There are sets of access stairs that run along the lifts, of course. But you would still have to go through the checkpoint downstairs. There is also a hatch that leads to the outside of the top of the tower, but you would have no way to get down and it would take too long for us to come get you.”

“*sigh* Roger that hill command. But, you do know they will rush this place when that bomb goes off.”

“I know. I’ve got everyone here working on an escape plan. How long until you finish your work there?”

“Not too long. The computer repair is almost done and the bomb is all ready.”

“… oh my god!! Venus! The Algorythm has been searching for you! They found the dead mechanics in the room, and they just discovered the ones in the duct. I assume it will not be long before they come up to ‘check on’ you guys.”

“Got it hill command! So what’s your escape plan?”

“Ah… well… OK. Get your heavy gloves on and get your silksteel knives ready. I’ll explain the plan.”

************

“Hill command, they are in the elevator to your room. Now!”

All three probes sprayed their bug zappers at what they believed was the elevator control computer. Obediently, it stopped humming and the elevator stopped.

“Ahh… OK. That was too early. My fault. Sorry Venus!”

“WHAT?!” Venus exclaimed

“The elevator is still on the bottom floor. You didn’t trap them inside as we planned. They’ve exited and are heading up the stairs now.”

“Ohh you little…” Control Venus. Control!! “…I copy. Proceeding as planned.”

“Umm… the plan was to slide down the elevator cable, kill those men, take their stuff, and use their uniforms to escape. How can you follow that now?!”

Venus stopped talking and jumped. She grabbed onto the cable and slid down onto the elevator car’s roof. The other members followed. Quickly, they cut through the car top, dropped into the car, and looked out at the now empty security checkpoint. The team sprinted through.

“OK. Nice work Venus. They’re up in the computer room, although I think they know what you did… yeah. They’re heading back down the stairs. The cowards. They didn’t find the bomb, however, so it looks like this mission can still succeed!” Hill command commented

“Hill command! Celebrate later! How do we get down the main lift to the tower base?!” Seline said sharply. Venus would have commented about who was to talk on the COM, but Seline had summed up her thoughts so perfectly. Besides, now was not the time.

“Hmm… OK! We’ve found a duct that runs at a 45-degree angle to the base of the tower. Ironically it ends at that air purification room. The access to that… is on the floor above you. Ut-oh…”

“Hill command!!” Venus almost screamed.

“Yeah hold on! OK! There should be a computer with some heavy black cables in this room. Throw it to the floor and cut deeply behind it… err… about a foot above the table. That should give you a hole right into the air duct. You can slide down most of the way to it levels out, and then crawl to the duct and exit in the air purification room!”

The probes had stopped listening when they got the location at which they should cut. Their silksteel knives made quick work of the walls and the duct casing. Soon, they cut a whole into sharply angled duct about three feet all.

“We’re escaping in THAT?!” said Seline breathlessly. “Surely they’ll know how we got out.”

“No time to cover it up or find another way out. Let’s go!” With that, Venus climbed into the table and entered the duct. She seemed to lose her footing, and slipped out of view.

The Cyborg soldiers clamouring down the stairs was easily audible now, and the other two probes dived into the duct. Inside, it was cold, it was steep, it was dark, but it was FAST! Although it was hard to tell time while sliding out of control, the probes quickly found themselves in a heap on a flat surface, with light from the air purification room filling their duct.

Venus surveyed the area below and said, “Hill command, we’re above the room. Is the path between here and the duct we jumped down from clear?”

“… actually, yes. Most of the Cyborgs are still trying to find out how you got out. Apparently, you trashed that security depot room so badly that they didn’t even notice the hole in the wall!”

Venus and her probes dropped into the room, exited, and climbed back up into the still-open duct. Venus kept talking to hill command during the manoeuvre. “Roger that, hill command. How long until the EMP goes off?”

“… not very long. I give it ten minutes. I hope you can find the way to the government sector that fast.”

“No problem hill command. However, I must say this: This has been one of the longest probe missions I have ever been on!”


Note from Jasonian: I had origionally intended to post these on three seperate days, but I figured I should make up from my time away. Besides, it's so much easier to follow when they are all in order.

I proimise I'll stop posting tonight though. Yes yes, the drones have come back to life. Hope you like the "Venus Saga," and stay tuned for the next couple of episodes.
[This message has been edited by Jasonian (edited January 05, 2000).]

[Raging Mouse]

Location: U.N. Court of Justice

A room, divided by two. First half; three-by-three meters, armored entrance. Light blue, carpeted walls. Floor covered with metal grating. Roof white-painted, matted aluminum. One table. two chairs. Occupant: President (former) Larry Greenburg, alias 'Tomahawk', case file #202-1907AX16. Second half; two-by-three meters. Entrance hidden. Dark, with a hidden view into the first half. Crammed by recording equipment, stress analyzers, thermographic cameras, chemical-sniffers, and so on and so on. Occupants: Many; including Lieutenant-General Zhu and Major Eustace Welles of Intelligence. Both are observing the prisoner intently, surrounded by the quiet bustle of machines and the technicians operating them. Zhu turns to Welles.

"Major, I wanted you to see this subject for a reason. Give me a visual assessment of his personality."

After some silent consideration, Welles responds. "Face you forget easily. Mundane. Some faint signs of, uh, wear. I'd guess an active military career with neither special distinguishing points nor any serious disasters. All in all, the face of a mid-level senior clerk or a well-off senior businessman. But that look in his eyes.. I can't say anything about that."

"Right. And would you care to guess the accuracy of that estimate?"

"Well, I can guess what shape my answer should be from your question sir. This was a very rough estimate, and would serve only as a very rough initial sketch of any person. It is based on stereotypes and statistics, and the notion that your life's events leave marks on your person. I'd guess it's pretty inaccurate, given the circumstances."

Zhu nods. "What you see here is a very dangerous man. The empaths tell me he is driven by megalomania, to such a degree that he is completely ruthless. His ambition knows no boundaries, and that is what you can see in his eyes. The look of someone who always thinks he is in control of the situation."

Welles nods. "Yes. He launched the chem-attack against the University. i'd class him as a terrorist, actually. One who wants to turn over the world, sure in the knowledge that he would be at the top of it then."

Zhu grimaces. "Bad metaphor. He is -was- not exactly at the bottom. Also, apparently he did NOT attack the University with nerve toxins. You see, both the interrogations and the information you salvaged from Data Decentral show that he in fact wasn't in charge when the atrocity took place."

"Huh?! Right faction, wrong person?"

"Right. The citizens -those who talk, that is- speak of one 'Sinder Roze' as the leader during the atrocity. And you want to hear something odd? No-one knows what happened to her. Every DDC citizen assumes that he or she was captured or killed by mister Greenburg here."

"Why is that strange? I saw some footage of their revolution. Well planned, but messy nevertheless."

"Because of his personality. If you plan on ruling the world you make sure your citizens consider you the One and Only for the task. This involves parading the mangled body of your predecessor through every street."

"Of course! And no parade means there is no body. Roze is out there still, dead or alive. And this Vendetta isn't finished until we have him or her in custody or we know where the body is."

"Well said, Welles. Now, I am sure that there is no coincidence in the fact that mister Greenburg here, or 'Tomahawk', as he is called, has signalled that he wishes to negotiate. He'll tell us something he thinks we want to know, and we -well, I don't know what he wants, but I can guess. Anyway, if he wasn't responsible for the attack then we have no reason to keep him here much longer."

Zhu pauses while he studies Major Welles. Then he continues."I want you to find out what he is hiding. Since we actually are preparing to release him I need you to make him believe he is in bad trouble. Shouldn't be hard."

"You can count on me, boss."

Zhu smiles and pats Welles on the arm. "Good. Give a report when you are ready."

Lieutenant-General Zhu leaves. Welles observes his new subject for a long time, while around him every aspect of the prisoner is being recorded.

[Bearcat]

"And I hereby name this base Childhood's End" finished Prophet Cha Dawn. The assembled crowd broke into applause. Standing on the site were the Believer base Glory of God had once stood Childhood's End was the newest Cultist base. Cha Dawn stepped back. His soldiers saw to it that everyone was dispersed. Cha Dawn had long ago decided to go the way of Yang. And he had instituted a police state.

Unlike a fundamentalist government a police state didn't ****** research efforts to much.
And his followers still gave him their undying devotion. As to the Believers they were their own problem.

Cha Dawn had dispatched another group of mind worm boils and a gatling unit to capture the base known as Judgement Seat. Due to his researchers recent breakthrough in Enviromental Economics he was able to construct bigger and better improvements. Thus furthering Planet's cause.

Two Former groups were set to leave tommorrow to replace the improvements destroyed by his spore launchers. Cha Dawn turned around and walked down the long marble staircase toward the plaza. He nodded to his guards as he passed. He then stooped down and picked up some black dirt. He rubbed it between his fingers. It was charred earth from the bombs placed to raze the former base.

He let it sprinkle back down to the ground. To rejoin Planet and mourn the fallen. Believer and Cultist alike. Although they were wrong in their beliefs they were still human.

"Come" he said to his guards. He moved away toward the setting sun. As it cast a blood red pallor across the land. The blood of those who resisted. And the blood that spoke of the covenant between Planet and him.

+ + + + + + + + +

Brood Trainer Hui Tang stood at the bow of a Cultist skimship. He watched his Isle of the Deep speeding through the water. It headed right for it's intended target. A bio-neural holograph of a lone seaman. The holograph started to waver and then in dissipated signaling it's "death". Tang smiled. They had lifted this piece of technology from a Morganic lab years before any one knew of their existence.

"Very good my pet" he said telepathically. The Isle responded by manuevering it's way toward him. One day they hoped that the seaman would be real. Tang hoped that Cultist High Command might give him the chance to attack a Believing sea base. But for now he just tossed the Isle a piece of fungus. Which was instantly devoured.

He looked at the sinking sun in the blood red sky. It had turned the waters a very dark purple. He leaned over the rail looking for his Isle. He spotted it circling the boat mischeviously. He smiled and stepped back.
[This message has been edited by Bearcat (edited January 07, 2000).]

[Cotroneo]

0500 hours
Admiralty Base, Spartan Territory
Civilian Naval Docks

“Do you have the equipment?” Virus asked quietly to a man who was looking over the side of the docks, watching the little chiros swimming between the various ships docked to the pier.

“Perhaps…” Replied the old Spanish looking man, without turning to face her.

“Do not play games with me… We paid good money….” Virus replied slightly louder than usual, but low enough so that the surrounding populace couldn’t here.

“I have upped the price… this equipment was difficult to find… it is dangerous for me even to carry… if I were to get caught…” The older man said as he threw out a piece of bread to the swimming chiros.

“How much you blackmailing ass?” Virus asked, annoyed at the fact that he was the only supplier throughout Spartan territory with the proper equipment.

“Well… I think an extra two hundred would be just fine…. Ill even gift wrap it… because I like you when you’re mad.” The Man retorted laughingly, as he finally turned around revealing his full face, which was from anything attractive.

“You bastard, are you insane?” Virus clenched her hands in anger, but stopped when several passing people looked over to her. “One hundred… and its to be transported to vessel I request.”

“…Alright lass, one hundred plus the five big ones we decided earlier. It will be in the transport ship as soon as you send me the ship location on my datapad. Anytime you need help…just give me a call… ha ha.”

Virus walked away into the nearest alley. If called lass anywhere else, she would have killed the person, but this was too important for the security of Secret Hollow.

The flight here onboard the newly rebuilt Messiah had gone off smoothly, although they had risked turning off the cloaking field for several minutes until the aircraft had reached outside the field’s range. All she had left to do now, was secure the correct mind efface device, or mindsweeper, from this supplier and ride a commercial trading transport which would take her directly to UN Court of Justice. The hard part would be infiltrating the multi-security net building, in which Tomahawk was being held, but Sinder had trained her well, and she felt confident about her daunting objective. With some good luck, she could find the exact building and room where he was being held captive. But, unfortunately, she was fighting a battle against time. It wouldn’t be long until Tomahawk would tell them the truth about Sinder, and her location.

[Cotroneo]

Duplicate
[This message has been edited by Cotroneo (edited January 07, 2000).]

[Raging Mouse]

Location: U.N. Humanity City (former Data Decentral)

"..And this was the command-bunker entrance. Just around the corner.. over here, is the house from which our combined forces bypassed this final line of defense and successfully concluded the correcting strike against the Data Angels. As no other bases have been found in the vicinity, we can safely conclude that it was the end of this secretive nation."

I am standing directly behind Lal and Zakharov. To my right are the University VIP:s and to my left are my own esteemed colleauges. I note that the guide's words causes the two leaders to exchange some quiet words. I can only guess at the message.

The guide, one Zola Agarti, is a respected Holocast newsreader, and the closest thing the Peacekeepers have to a celebrity. She was even a runner-up for the 'Best non-Morgan Holocast Celebrity' -award a few years back. Now she is concluding this tour of the city with a speech praising the two factions and predicting a rosy future for the pact. My thoughts are elsewhere.

When the guide is finished she receives her due applauds, and the entire group is herded into a nearby former warehouse, current ballroom, decorated by, and I quote, 'quaint blastmarks symbolizing the end of differences and the ensuing calm that will lead to a new day.'

What rubbish. A crater is a crater, and I don't feel better knowing that I probably designed the gun.

Nevertheless, the inside of the building, one big hall, is quite tasteful, and I am soon doing small-talk the diplomat way; completely devoid of any meaning or importance. When the droup of dignitaries I am discussing with breaks up, I look around to find the buffet-tables. Instead I see Captain-General steppleton, frantically signalling at me from a side door. Surprised, I approach.

"General, what-"

"Quiet. Come here, quick. Crisis session."

I am firmly, but nevertheless relatively politely, pulled through the door. Daylight greets me on the other side. To my amazement, Lal, Zakharov and their closest associates are standing in the shade of a roofed-over parking lot. Once I cease trying to figure out how they removed themselves from the party without anyone noticing, I detect the tension in the air. Zakharov speaks.

"... And I want to return to University Base as soon as possible."

Lal nods. His face has a distinct gray colour. "I understand you fully. Believe me, I am also burning to get home now, but if we hurry this ceremony too much, people might get the wrong.. impression about our pact."

Zakharov gestures wildly. "Who cares what our people think? This is a matter of national emergency!"

Lal visibly flinches. His answer is chilly. "I'm not talking about our citizens. I am talking about the other faction leaders. This is a new alliance, and we both have enemies that would prefer it not to exist. The Believers, to name one. Let's not give them the opportunity of accusing us of trigger-happiness. We might cause a bigger problem than the one we have now."

I recognize this opening. Lal is about to give a lecture on diplomacy. So, knowing the words by heart, I sidle up to Lady Jane and ask her what is going on. She is also looking worried.

"Professor, it seems that the Gaians have decided to abandon us. Lady Deirdre just made a speech proclaiming them allies of the Believers, and she basically cancelled every human right. She has gone fundamental, Johan. Funda-Mental!"

My jaw drops. Steppleton sees that I have realized, and turns back to watch Lal. In the meanwhile, thoughts race through my head. Deirdre.. a religious fanatic? Where is Planet heading?

The lecture seems to have ceased. Zakharov gives some short comments, and Lal nods. Then the doctor suddenly turns to me.

"Professor Kropotkin! What are your current cutting-edge technologies? If you could give me a short list, I will give you one containing the same information about my new discoveries. We'll arrange.. a transaction..."

I gulp, and glance at Lal. he gives a brief nod. "Uh, doctor, well.." I shut up and close my eyes. I force my mind to search my memory. Not the soft, flexible part. The fast, angular, harsh and cold one that is an extension of MMI. In an instant, millions of words flicker before my mind. Then, with the force of sudden recall, I find what I need. I open my eyes and answer Zakharov.

He nods. "I'll consult with my technicians. You'll have my answer soon. Now, let's go in and sign- those- bloody- documents!"

The entire company sidles back into the hall. I watch as a highly upset Zola Agarti is told that no, there will be no live interview with the leaders after all.

As the traditional pair of tables are hauled, amidst general confusion, into the middle of the room, I let my mind race again. So; a Believer-Gaian pact? And a University-Peacekeeper pact? PLUS, of course, the still existing PK-Gaian pact?

Sounds like the Cesium is about to hit the sink. There goes the lab, and no mistake....

[Cotroneo]

0400 hours
Counter / Intelligence Building
UN Court of Justice

Data Feed…
Uploading to Global Datapad: Serial Number 0012304M
From: Access board 045k

* * * * * *

Case Number:

#202-1907AX16
Larry Greenburg
A.k.a. Tomahawk
Captured: Data DeCentral 0800 hours (Zulu)

Location: Classified Information: restricted Gold
Schedule: Classified Information: restricted Gold

Data Feed… Completion

* * * * * *
Uploading file: Virus 04beta to Access board 045k
* * * * * *

Data Feed…
Uploading to Global Datapad: Serial Number 0012304M
From: Access board 045k

* * * * * *

Decryption … initializing

Case Number:

#202-1907AX16
Larry Greenburg
A.k.a. Tomahawk
Captured: Data DeCentral 0800 hours (Zulu)

Location: Floor 5c - Room 007

Schedule: Next Interrogation for captive 0600 hours (Zulu)

Decryption … completed

Data Feed… Completion

* * * * * *

That was surprisingly easier than I thought. But I’ll have to work fast, the next interrogation is scheduled for latter this morning.

I’ll take the C stairway… it only has three checkpoints.

The Peacekeepers had designed their intelligence facilities with security systems built like spider webs. A person could be at one checkpoint on the first floor, but all the while being watched by another checkpoint on a higher or lower floor. This interconnected system was difficult, but not impossible to brake.

“Please step up to the retinal scanner and bio wave scanner Miss, and if you could hand me your PK datacard, it will only take a moment.” An officer about the age of twenty said as Virus approached him.

The first checkpoint… my contacts should hide my retinal signature… I just hope this photon wave disperser will work like Zebra says it does… Here I go…

“Thank you ma’am, please proceed… let’s see.” The young officer stopped and looked down at the coded datacard again. “This card says, that you’re headed to floor 4d, please do not deviate from your designed route. Thank you for your time and cooperation.”

One down… two more… It’s going to be tricky getting to the fifth floor without clearance… but I should be able to hack through the floor security from the Access board, at the last checkpoint… hopefully.

Peacekeepers are considered highly advanced programmers, by most, but Sinder had found a weakness in their basic programming methods back when she was working for Morgan Industries. The weakness dealt with interconnected programs, in which various separate programs linked to each other. The connecting hyper link tags in their programming language lacked any form of protection. Consequently, it was quite simple to take down the interconnected security system, if you could “cut” the connection between the different checkpoint programs. Virus was hoping that she could cut the connection, causing some chaos, giving her just enough time to slip into Tomahawk’s room and perform the mindsweep.

“Hello Mrs. Franco, we have been watching your position throughout your visit to this facility. Please hand over your datapad and any other electronical equipment you have with you.” One rather large officer politely said, as a women tech came over to take Virus’s datapad.

They actually think they can detect any of my programs or files…ha… they underestimate Angel programming. You may have defeated us in battle, but you are outgunned on the information battlefield if I have anything to say about it… But who had the bright idea of naming me Mrs. Franco, do I look Spanish?

“Thank you, this will only take a second.” The women tech replied as she took Virus’s pad over to her desk and began to examine the various programs and files inside.

This guy is quite a hunk… I would love to…

“Sorry for the delay ma’am, you are cleared to checkpoint 3, on the fourth floor. Have a nice day.” The large officer said as his companion brought back Virus’s datapad from her desk after a brief delay.

Two down… one more to go… at least its only a computer and not another security team. I’ll have to cut the spider’s web with that computer.

Several minutes latter, after a tedious walk up two flights of stairs, she reached the access point, which led to floor 4. A large rectangular screen, flush against the wall, was stationed to the right of what appeared to be a laser grid blocking the door.

The screen read: Please slide your PK datacard into the slot positioned to the right, to deactivate the field. You have thirty seconds until a security team is called to your position, to evaluate the hold up. Thank you and enjoy your visit.

I need to work fast… Hopefully I can connect with the computer with only a simple laser transceiver.

* * * * * *
Uploading file stream(ZipX): Virus 01delta to Access board 401k
* * * * * *

After several seconds, of uploading, the screen flickered… then went blank. The beams guarding the door also went down, giving Virus a clear route to the floor and room.

It worked… I got to be fast now.

Virus quickly flew past the last pair of stairs and breezed through the hallway, looking for the golden egg.

004…no…005…no…006….one more….finally 007.

The noise of a clanging siren erupted just as she reached the door, singling to her that her position would be crawling with troops within a minute or two. Maybe three if she was lucky.

The door looks like simple iron enriched plasma…. Ill use a heat bomb.

Virus took out her datapad, and took out the electronic pencil attached to the back, which a person would normally use for drawing diagrams or pictures on the datapad. She unscrewed the top of the pencil, and placed the upper part of the pencil on the door, which it automatically magnetized too. Apparently, Zebra’s little photon wave disperser, had done its job, for a change and hidden the heat bomb from all the checkpoints.

Three… two… here I go. I got to be out in twenty-three seconds. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the bum… I wonder what he is going to say when he sees me again.

The door erupted as the entire doorframe simply melted right in front of her, due to the massive generation of heat on its structure, by the bomb. She ran through the growing steam that was rising up from what was left of the door and took out her mind efface device which was also hidden inside the memory port of her datapad.

…What the hell!…

Virus’s jaw practically dropped a foot as she stood gazing at an empty silver chair and plastic table with a glass of water on it. Tomahawk must have been moved.

“Please place down on the ground whatever is in your hands and then place them behind your back slowly. Do not turn around Mrs. Franco or whoever you are.” A voice came from behind, but Virus could sense that there were more than one behind her.

How could they have known…. Damnit…. That idiot back at the docks probably sold me out for a buck. But, I can’t let them capture me… what would Sinder do. I was so close too.

Virus erupted off her feet as if she were a lion after her prey. She turned to see four muscular security officers in full combat gear, and started to close the two to three meter distance between them. But, the sound of shrapnel echoed throughout the confined and empty room.

…I’m hit… I can’t believe it… this is my blood…I can’t die... not now… not here. I’m not ready…