"Crossfire Tales"

[Jasonian]

Living Standard


"Sigma Leader to Sigma-A-1. Two Free Drone needlejet groups and the Cloudbase are aiding in Living Standard's defense. Probability of securing Living Standard: 17%. Transport foil under attack. Probability of securing Living Standard without transport foil: 0%. Requesting orders."

"Sigma-A-1 to Sigma Leader. Continue with current orders until told further."

"Sigma-A-1 to Alpha Prime. Request: Aki Zeta-5. Topic: assault on Living Standard. Priority: Urgent."

"Alpha Prime to Sigma-A-1. Request accepted."

"Aki Zeta-5 to Sigma-A-1. Report."

"Forwarding message from Sigma Leader now"

"… Message received. New orders: frontal assault on Cloudbase. Break away when combined losses are at 75% or Cloudbase has been destroyed."

***

Captain James Sheldon stood on the Cloudbase Academy's bridge, watching the battle before him and feeling rather useless. Over at the com station he could hear the officers relaying damage reports and battle tactics between the two groups. With the two chaos needlejet groups, the Cloudbase's own guns, and the AAA power of Living Standard all gunning at them, it was to be expected that the Cyborg losses would be heavy. Let both sides had only suffered minor losses, with the Cyborg casualties being slightly higher.

Across from the com station were the maneuver controls. The pilots were constantly shifting and rotating the station to try and get a better shot at the Cyborg jets without hitting any Free Drone ones. This effort seemed wasted, as all the spinning did little but knock things from the shelves.

On the either side of the bridge were the gunnery stations, where his gunners took shots at Cyborg jets that came too close to the base. Although the chaos blasts still lashed out from the station occasionally, the Cyborgs weren't coming close very often anymore.

Sheldon sighed and wandered over to the com station to listen in on the pilots.

"Talon Four to Razor 6. Cover me while I go for Sigma One."

"Negative Talon Four. I'm in trouble here!"

"*Sigh* Roger that. I'm coming to your aid."

"… Huh? My attacker just broke off."

"Copy that. It appears they are changing tactics… oh… OH! Talon Four to base! They are gunning for you now!"

Sheldon dashed back to the bridge window. Sure enough, the Cyborg jets were coming this way. Already the Photon shield generators were being strained by the many chaos blasts. The Cyborg jets flew apparently randomly around the base, yet they never came close to collision. The chaos guns couldn't keep up with them at this close of range, yet they fired anyway.

Captain Sheldon snapped into action, "Com! Get all of our jets to engage them one-on-one. Tell them to watch out for each other. Guns! Stop firing! You won't hit them anyway. Engineering! Divert the chaos gun power into the Photon shield generators. Let's go people!"

His men scrambled to fill these orders, and Sheldon fell back into his chair. It was out of his hands now.

***

"Right… you heard him people! One-on-one! Razor Group takes Iota, Talon takes Sigma. I'm on Sigma One. The rest of you take the jet with your number. Move!"

Mirthrel was starting to enjoy the command role. He hoped that if he did well here, he would be given Talon One. Maybe even command of the entire Free Drone needlejet bomber wing!

Zira, on the other hand, did not appear to be having as much fun, "Mirthrel… must we go after Sigma One? I'm not doing to well back here."

"What? What's the problem? Power failure? Tracking system error?"

"No… I'm just not doing well. Me! I can't take this! We've lost 3 jets so far. What if we're next! My parents were going on about how proud they are of me for making it into this school and how they're going to be at graduation and all that…what if I don't make it through all that… this is so hard Mirthrel!"

"Zira! This isn't combat training! Forget the school! We're in real battle here!"

"… Yeah… I know. All right. No more whining. Let's go get Sigma One so I can get out of this thing."

Mirthrel cracked a smile, 'In spite of all the chaos going on around us, Zira knows what had to be done. Kill Sigma One. End this battle. Go back to base.' He found Sigma One and started to track onto it.

Zira wasted no time. As soon as Sigma One was in sight, she let loose a barrage of Chaos blasts. Mirthrel was glad there were no friendly jets in the area. Yet, it turned out to be worthwhile, and Sigma One was hit., although not destroyed. It started to smoke and fall beneath the clouds.

"Whooo! Nice shot Zira! Finish it off!"

Zira fired one last shot, and Sigma One burst into a flaming mess of molten metal.

Both Mirthrel and Zira let out a whoop and announced their kill to the rest of the jets. The others seemed to be having similar luck, and the Cyborg jets had broken off and were retreating. Still, damage had been done to the base, and some of the towers weren't looking to sturdy.

"Living Standard to Cloudbase! We are under ground assault! Repeat, we are under ground assault!"

Beneath the clouds, the transport had unloaded and the Cyborg Chaos shock troops were blasting away at the base.

[dante^]

M.Y. 2235
Port Svensgaard

Vincent followed them meekly into the alley, deep inside the industrial sector of the city. They paused outside a warehouse. Strangely enough, he wasn't surprised when the door of the warehouse swung open noiselessly, without either of his captors making a single move. He'd half-expected them to will open the door or something, anyway.

Welcome, Vincent. A voice sounded inside his head. He didn't know why, but he was strongly compelled to proceed inside the warehouse, to see the source of the voice. He wanted to hold his ground, but he involuntarily took a step forward. What's happening to me?

All shall be revealed in time. The same words his captors had used. He noticed that they had disappeared into the blackness of the warehouse.

He took another step, and then gave up fighting the urge and strode into the warehouse.

"Greetings, Vincent Jones." A small, wizened man appeared in a pool of light to his right. "We have been expecting your arrival."

The interior of the warehouse gradually grew brighter, and Vincent noticed all sorts of mechanical contraptions and computers as well as assorted paraphernalia lying all over the place. He also saw technicians, both male and female, working on the computers and equipment. In a way, he was relieved. He'd expected himself to be led into some sort of cult and sacrificed to some avatar of Planet.

"No, Vincent, we are not a cult." The man smiled at him in amusement. "But where are my manners? Come, follow me."

"My name is Doctor Lukas. We have been keeping an eye on you for sometime, Vincent." They threaded their way between the assorted equipment. "Ah, here we are."

They stood before a huge transparent tank. The tank was filled with water, and Vincent saw a mass of writhing mindworms submerged in the water. An Isle of the Deep? Here?

"Yes, Vincent, an Isle of the Deep. Why don't you try reaching out to it with your mind?"

Vincent complied. He had seen Mindworms before, but this was the first time he had seen an Isle of the Deep. He cautiously extended a mental tendril towards the Isle.

No response.

He probed again, more insistent this time.

No response.

He turned to Doctor Lukas and shook his head. This seemed to please Lukas and he gestured for Vincent to follow him into a small room.

"Now you shall get the answers you want, Vincent." Both of them sat down at the table in the room. "Something to drink?"

Vincent nodded. Lukas waved to a female technician who standing outside the door.

"Now, while we wait. To answer your question, that is indeed an Isle of the Deep. Do you know why you could not communicate with it?"

Vincent shook his head no.

"Well, the reason is that the Isle possesses no connection with Planet, hence the blank you encountered. You have to understand that each Mindworm is essentially a living part of Planet, why is what gives the Mindworm some sort of sentience. The Isle you just saw was bred by us, hence the lack of any connection with the Planetmind."

Vincent was taken aback. They were actually able to breed Mindworms? He had heard of Gaians successfully capturing Mindworms before, but the idea that they could be bred was a little beyond him.

"Yes, we do have the technology to breed Isles of the Deep. To pre-empt your question, do you know that an Isle acts as a naval transport for Mindworm boils? The Isle can also carry infantry and even Rovers, depending on the size of the boil. Imagine, if we could somehow control these Isles, and use them to transport our ground troops! Greater mobility, stealth and carrying capacity will be available to us!"

Doctor Lukas was getting a little worked up, waving his arms in the air as he spoke. He stopped when the technician entered, carrying two cups.

"As to why you are here, I'm sure you have realized the empathic powers you possess." Lukas continued as Vincent nodded. "Do you realize the untapped mental powers you have inside of you? Such raw talent! To be able to project mental suggestions like you do without any formal training or neural grafting is simply unbelievable!"

Lukas paused for breath and continued. "If you help us, we will succeed in controlling Isles of the Deep. As to what is in it for you if you agree, we shall provide you with training as well as neural grafting, increasing your empathic powers many times over. Well, what do you say?"

Vincent mused over the idea. It sounded interesting enough.

"Oh, yes. Come in, Melissa." Doctor Lukas motioned to the technician. "Melissa was the one who "invited" you here. She is our most powerful empath here and yet, she said she had to exert all of her empathic defences to resist your mental suggestion. Take this as a gauge of your powers when you decide."

Vincent took a look at Melissa. Nice green eyes, he thought. Thanks, the voice sounded inside his head. "And if I refuse?"

Doctor Lukas showed no sign of disappointment. "Then drink this." He pushed a cup towards Vincent. "Tomorrow, you will wake up in your own bed. You will not remember a thing about this experience."

Vincent looked up at Melissa, standing beside Doctor Lukas. She looked slightly dissapointed, shifting her eyes to avoid his. "Very well, where do I sign up?"

"Excellent!" Doctor Lukas stood up. "Now, I formally welcome you to the Nautilus Pirates Psi Corps!"

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

Safe Haven, The Maritime Control Center

"Well, how was my speech?" Ulrik Svensgaard beamed as he stepped down from the podium.

"Marvellous, Captain." Rear-Admiral de Bilde grinned from ear to ear.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Rear-Admiral." Despite his words, Svensgaard nontheless looked pleased at the compliment.

Below them, the people of Safe Haven, citizens and seaman alike, cheered loudly at the completion of the project they had worked so hard on.

"What do you think, Phelan?" Svensgaard turned to the dark-haired young man behind him.

"Absolutely smashing, Sir."

"Excellent. Now then, Rear-Admiral, will you be so kind to take Phelan down to the Naval Yard to receive his assignment. I have to attend to something. Apparently, we have reports of a contact down at Provision Point."

Svensgaard saluted and strode to a waiting rover, returning Phelan's wave before departing.

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

Safe Haven, Naval Yard

"You mean it's all mine?!" Phelan was incredulous.

"Yes, Phelan, Captain Svensgaard picked it out for you."

Phelan could not believe what he was seeing. A ship! Under my command! This is like a dream come true.

Rear-Admiral de Bilde continued, "Captain Svensgaard originally wanted to give you a destroyer, but I advised him otherwise. You are not disappointed, are you?"

"Not in the least, Rear-Admiral."

"Good. It would not befit your rank of Lieutenant Commander if you got anything more than a skimship. The more seasoned of the seamen may talk. Don't worry, if you work hard enough, you'll get your cruiser soon enough, eh?" Rear-Admiral de Bilde winked at Phelan.

The Scorpion, an AAA Missile Foil. It was not the best the Pirates had, but it still packed quite a punch. Phelan was so delighted that he was getting a ship to command that it probably would not have mattered if he got a Transport Foil.

"Well, Phelan, let's go take a look at your ship."

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

Provision Point

"Sir? The needlejet isn't doing anything, just circling the base. What shall we do?"

"Shut up and let me think, Ensign. Are our AAA guns at the ready?"

"Yes. Oh, hang on a sec.... commlink received from Safe Haven, Sir, it's Captain Svensgaard. He says for us to open a comm channel with the unidentified needlejet."

"Provision Point Control to unidentified needlejet. You are in Nautilus Pirate airspace. Request identification at once."

"Alpha Three to Provision Point Control. We come on the behalf of Prime Function Aki Zeta-5 of the Cybernetic Consciousness. We are unarmed."

"Very well, Alpha Three, we will patch you through with Captain Ulrik Svensgaard immediately."

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

Safe Haven

Svensgaard stroked his chin as he waited for the commlink to come through. He was worried. No faction knows the whereabouts of our bases. How had.. The commlink beeped.

"Greetings, Captain Ulrik Svensgaard. We come in peace."

"Same here, Alpha Three. Tell me, what is the Cybernetic Consciousness? One of Morgan's new games?"

"I detect mockery in your voice, Captain."

"Oh, very well then. I'll use the same old line. Who are you and what do you want?"

"We are the Cybernetic Consciousness. We will elaborate in time. We have a proposition for you, Captain Svensgaard. We have encountered a new faction calling themselves the Free Drones. They have resisted an attack on one of their bases called Living Standard. They own a massive airbase called The Cloudbase Academy, which is all that stands between them and their destruction. Simulators indicate that if you join the attack on our side, chances of victory are 98%."

"Oh? And why should I waste resources and manpower fighting a faction that has done me no wrong?"

"Well, Captain, we understand that you have not discovered the secrets of air power yet. If you agree to attack the Free Drones, we will provide you with a working prototype of a Chaos Needlejet as well as designs that will allow you to manufacture your own."

"That sounds interesting, Alpha Three. I will have to get back to you on this matter. Svensgaard out."

[This message has been edited by dante^ (edited November 14, 1999).]

[Jasonian]

M.Y. 2235
Remote outpost, near Living Standard

"That sounds interesting, Alpha Three. I will have to get back to you on this matter. Svensgaard out."

"Oh crap! This is the real thing!"

After several days of monitoring the Cyborgs channels and getting nothing but Greek call-signs and numerical babble, the DIN listening outpost had finally come across something interesting, and something extremely important.

"DIN Post 3 to DIN OP Angel. Forwarding intercepted message now."

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

Free Drone Central, Domai's control room

Domai decided to check his messages today instead of getting Hain's report. Hain had grown rather paranoid over the last few days, which was justified considering the crisis with the Cyborgs and the fact that their cover had been blown from space. Still, Hain was becoming more of an annoyance then he was worth, and Domai decided to let him handle base operations today instead.

The first was from Malcolm. Apparently Zakharov had been contacted by the refugees and had left Domai his comlink frequency to call back at his leisure. Domai decided to do just that.

After several aides had passed on Domai's request, Zakharov himself appeared in the screen. Zakharov looked as old as he had when Domai had worked under him during the U.S.S Unity repair project so many years ago. Considering the time that had passed, old Zak wasn't looking that bad. His hair had gotten a bit grayer, but his glasses looked a bit more hi-tech after the 135 years since Planetfall.

"Ahhh… the familiar face of Domai. I hear that you've built yourself quite a powerful little nation over there on Mount Planet. As you know, I am Provost Zakharov of the University of Planet, and it is our goal to pursue pure research unfettered by outside motives and meddling."

Domai almost smiled. Same old Zak. "Good day Provost Zakharov. The refugees from that awful chemical attack on your capital have told me nothing but good things about your nation over there. They have also told me that you might be willing to sign a treaty to make lasting peace between our peoples."

"Of course Domai! We can tell that while your labs are not as powerful as ours are, you wish to aid your people's well being using advanced research methods. I shall sign your treaty."

"Splendid! Your research and my industrial ambitions compliment each other nicely. We will commence trade with your people at once."

Zak nodded, "Yes… but now I need a private word with you Domai. It seems that there is yet another new faction hiding out on the Isle of Dexamenus. Lal believes that they were the ones that caused the chemical attack on my capital. Do you have any information on this faction such as agenda, commlink, or future plans?"

Domai tried to look stricken by this news. Of course he knew that information, but Zakharov didn't have to know that. And seeing as there was nothing to really gain from giving that information, Domai decided not to mention any of it.

"New faction? Could they have anything to do with the reports of ships disappearing far out at sea?"

Zakharov seemed to pause. He had not thought of that, "Ohh… well… I suppose so… but…"

Domai went on, "Perhaps there is no base on Dexamenus, and whoever is controlling those ships just got the materials there."

"Hmm… actually, that would make sense. But I think I'm going to check out that island anyway… oh. What a pleasant chat this has been. But I really have to get back to work. Zakharov out."

Zakharov closed the channel, and Domai went back to his messages.

The second message was from Drone Intelligence Network Operative (DIN OP) Angel. The message was rather disturbing, but there was little Domai could do against a combine attack on his people, considering he did not know the location of this "Safe Haven." Still, 98% odds against him were unsettling. Domai tried to push it from his mind as he reviewed his last message.

His last message was from Captain James Sheldon, Captain of the Cloudbase. His forces were aiding in the defense of Living Standard. The invaders had unloaded from a transport foil that was sunk a minute too late by a chaos needlejet with the call sign Talon Four. In fact, all through the report was evidence of Talon Four's exceptional work. Domai decided to meet the crew of the brave jet, assuming it survived the battle.

Also in that message were reports of several ships approaching Living Standard from the mainland where Deirdre and Lal were based. They had not sent any transmissions, but they were making no attempt to hide.

Domai mused over this. Perhaps it was one of the seven 'original' factions coming to say hello. But who? Yang would already be shooting, Zakharov had no reason to be coming since they had talked, and Miriam and Morgan were a bit far away to send a convoy. That left Deirdre, Lal, and Santiago. If it was Deirdre, he would hear it from her for having such a large industry. Santiago would pretend to be his friend and then smash him. And Lal would send his comlink all over Planet so everyone that didn't know about him would.

Perhaps it was a new faction. But that didn't make sense either. Sinder could talk over the com to him. The Cyborgs would be babbling surrender terms for the base. And these so-called 'pirates' would storm the base with drunken seamen. None of them would send a visible convoy.

Domai considered this. All in all, Lal would be the best to show up. He would be the most welcoming and understanding of all the other factions, even if he would blow Domai's cover further.

Domai would know soon.

[Cotroneo]

* 0600 hours
* Inside T-4 (Messiah)’s Command Module / Cockpit
* On route to Borehole Cluster (32,76)

The T-4, dubbed Messiah, by its crew since takeoff at Data DeCentral, was enormous. It had originally been built several years ago using the most advanced plasma steel frame technology, to lug large pieces of hardware between distant cities. But, when the Data Angel government decided to stay relatively small, the aircraft was taken out of active flight service to conserve energy and man hours until recently.

“Good morning.” All four men rose from their seats, except for the pilot, to greet Sinder as she walked into the command module, which housed the flight controls and communication and electronic surveillance interfaces.

“You’re up early, I was expecting to wake you up several hours from now. Our readings say we should be at the Cluster within four hours. This fusion engine almost doubles our time… I guess it was a good idea to invest in the gadget after all.” Raptor said to Sinder, who was taking her seat behind the pilot at her command interface.

“My high regards Zebra, you did a wonderful job with the engine and upgrading this pile of bolts in such a short time.” Sinder replied to Zebra who was fiddling with an engine status report.

“Well… you can express your thanks with a big bonus of energy credits, when we land.” The command module erupted into laughter, as everyone turned to look at Zebra who rarely cracked a joke.

“Sinder, we got an echo on approach vector, I’m reading two aircraft, not sure on faction ID, although it’s military design for sure.” Captain Regan broke up the crew’s laughter as he watched two faint beacons on his sensor scopes.

“Zebra, can you confirm?” Sinder quickly regained her composure, as she took in the situation.

“There is definitely something out there, about 20 kilometers behind us. Although they shouldn’t be able to detect us; we’ve been running the photon cloak since we have been flying over Spartan territory.” Zebra confirmed, as he brought up the photon armor status report, on his touch screen.

“Are you sure it’s not a normal Spartan patrol Zebra?” Raptor asked, as he listened for any chatter that he could pick up on his communication sensors.

“I selected this flight route because it outside normal Spartan patrols. Regan, I suggest you accelerate, we do have a much more powerful engine than they probably have.” Zebra stated, as he confirmed to himself that there was no problems with the photon armor.

“Unless they know we are in the general area, they could be looking for us blind.” Sinder interjected.

“Sinder… this is strange. I don’t think their Spartan jets. I’m reading Morgan style communication algorithms between the two aircraft.” Raptor said as he listened to the aircraft’s pilots. “Their pretty quiet, I think they may be flying under radio silence.”

“Damn… that Tomahawk, he must have informed that jerk Morgan and if he knows about our flight plan, he must know where we are going to land.” Sinder said as her head became deeply reddish with hatred.

“You may be right about that Sinder Roze, the Morgan jets could be flying out of University bases which boarder Spartan territory.” Copilot O’Brian replied confirming Sinder’s fears.

“Do we have any options, just incase they can lock onto our needlejet? Perhaps some countermeasures or electronic jamming?” Sinder asked to the whole command module crew.

“I’ll see what I can do Sinder, I’ll get some of my engineers in the back working on ideas. Until then, let’s keep her at full speed, we may be able to outrun them. If they get to close, they can easily see this flying pig.” Zebra said as he turned to his screens to communicate with his scientists and engineers in the back cargo bays.

* * * *

* 0615 hours
* Inside T-4 (Messiah)’s Main Cargo-bay

“Punch up the Morgan aircraft inventory. We may be able to find out what we are dealing with.” Engineering Chief Orlando said to his two engineers with him, at the main science module in the cargo bay.

“Sir, the Morgans only have a handful of aircraft inside University Territory. They are supposed to be taking part in some training exercise, called Red Flag with the University Air Corps. Perhaps this is just a training mission which is off course.” Second class engineer Cortez responded as he viewed the statistics on all five needlejets inside University territory.

“No, I don’t think Spartan sensor observers would let the Morgan pilots fly inside their territory for so long without telling them of their location and to leave. And they don’t appear to have any form of stealth or cloaking technology that could evade detection from Spartan sensors.” Orlando answered as he shoved Cortez to the left to see Cortez’s screen.

“Sir, that brings up another question. Why haven’t the Spartans scrambled anything? I know we are outside their patrol routes, but they should have been able to pick up the two jets behind us, on ground radar by now.” First class engineer Benjamin asked chief Orlando.

“Good point Benjamin, who knows what kind of deals those factions make with each other. Our chief concern is protecting the Messiah. Perhaps an Electro magnetic pulse would do the trick?” Orlando responded as he brought up the Messiah’s inventory.

“Sorry Sir, that won’t work, all five aircraft which were deployed to University territory have silk-steel armor which absorbs the shockwave.” Cortez regrettably responded.

“Well gentleman, I need answers then.”

* * * *

* 0620 hours
* Inside T-4 (Messiah)’s Command Module / Cockpit

“Sinder we got more problems incoming, I’m reading two fast movers coming in from directly in front of us, 25 kilometers.” Captain Regan exclaimed which got the attention of the whole room.

“Morgan?” Sinder asked Regan.

“No Sinder, their different.” Zebra responded for Regan as he viewed the situation from his screen.

“Let me guess, Spartan?” Sinder asked Zebra.

“One second, let me check my profile files…. Your right Sinder, two SF-11s on approach.” Zebra answered.

“Regan, do they have a lock on us?” Raptor asked as he tried to monitor both flights of aircraft. “There is a lot of chatter going on between the two flights, although I can’t make much out.”

“Well, no one has a lock on us at least, if that’s good news.” Regan said as he motioned for O’Brian to grab the stick as he punched some coordinates on his navigation screen.

“Perhaps Sparta sent some fighters up to see what Morgan is doing this far into their territory, remember, the Morgan jets were under strict radio silence. Perhaps we should drop to a lower altitude and see what happens.” Zebra suggested as he ran a few diagnostics on the fusion drive.

“Already in progress.” Regan said as he retook the controls of the Messiah from O’Brian and started a shallow dive.

* * * *

* 0620 hours
* Transmission between Morgan Alpha flight / Spartan Cobra Wing

“Morgan aircraft, respond.” Spartan colonel Ted “Dragoon” Xan exclaimed for the second time over the comlink.

“…..Morgan Alpha flight reads you Spartan flight group.” Morgan commander Yanke hesitantly responded. He had been ordered to search the area for the Probe plane, yet he wasn’t briefed on what to do if Spartan aircraft scrambled.

“Alpha flight, this is colonel Xan of the Spartan Western Air Force, what is your reason to be within our territory?” Dragoon asked as he brought up the missile inventory screen.

“Colonel Xan….we are….. we are off course, both of our navigation units are malfunctioning….can you give us some assistance.” Yanke hated lying to Spartan rubbish, but he wasn’t ordered to tell the Spartans about the probe aircraft that was around and didn’t want to start an international incident

“Confirmed Morgan Alpha flight, we will form on your wing and escort you to the University border. Please turn off any cameras or intelligence gathering equipment you have on board.” Xan was annoyed that he scrambled this far from base just to ferry some poor kids’ home.

* * * *

* 0628 hours
* Inside T-4 (Messiah)’s Command Module / Cockpit

“You seem to have guessed right Zebra, the two Spartan aircraft are forming on the Morgan’s wing and heading back to University territory.” Regan said as he watched from his advanced vision goggles several thousand feet above their position.

“I guess that’s two bonuses you owe me or a vacation. I here University Base is nice this of time year…..well …it used to be nice.” Zebra said as he put his feet up on his console. Zebra seemed to be more comfortable among his friends then when he used to be on the council with all those warmongers and immoralists.

“Or you could spend it at the Borehole Cluster, I hear there is a need for a qualified guy like yourself to unload a transport by hand.” The whole room cracked up over Sinder’s joke, even bringing a smile to Zebra.

“If you guys are done kidding around, I hope you people realize that we are flying very low over a large fungus field.” Raptor said as the whole command crew stopped to look outside the front cockpit window.

“I guess you can climb back now, this mission will have been for nothing if anyone sees us from the ground. Heck, we got to start preparing the equipment for transportation off this large piece of meat. Lets focus our efforts on digging out the cloak generator first when we hit ground. Zebra, why don’t you get about fifty of the maintenance people in the back to help you with it. I also want a scout unit of security troops to search the alien complex. We need to know what we are going to be living next too.” Sinder finished and the non-pilot command crew dispersed from the command module to follow out their orders.

[Barshy]

"Lord, thank you for granting me the opportunity to serve you. Clearly I am the servant endowed with numerous talents, and I will be sure to use them to the best of my ability."

Standing up, he gazed out into the beautiful Planet sky. Only those not shackled in spiritual blindness could see that God had created this planet for His followers... His believers.

Sean Yang, age 28. His tan skin, Earth-Asian features, and relatively youthful and mellow appearance belied his intense and fiery passion to serve Christ and His appointed Servant, Sister Miriam. Although many speculated a connection with Chairman Sheng-ji Yang, Sean had always insisted no connection whatsoever.

Today was the big day. After faithfully serving the Believers as governor of Terrible Swift Sword for 8 years, he finally received a message from the Lord's Council, officially ordaining him as the newest minister of the Lord's Council. He would be the youngest member.

En route to New Jeruselum, Sean could not stifle the surging feelings of pride; every attempt at humility only resulted in further pride in how humble he was... he laughed at the ridiculous cycle he was trapped in.

After he arrived at New Jeruselum, he began to walk toward the main Cathedral... The Cathedral consisted of gleaming spires that graced the skies and the heavens, a testament of man's glory. Constructed in zeno-Gothic style architecture, the Cathedral took 86 Centauri years to build, and Sean remembered the chief engineer stating that those spires could almost reach God Himself.

Troubled by that blasphemous thought, Sean wondered if God had the same stored for New Jeruselum as He did for the Tower of Babel... "Sean!"

"Huh? What?"

"Snap out of it, Sean. Stop daydreaming and start praying. You're about to meet Miriam herself!" It was Elizabeth Wivern, one of Sean's old classmates in seminary. He remembered his infatuations with her, and how he tried to get into the same Religion and Politics class she was in... But now they were older. He realized that he was already in the Cathedral and moving up the elevator.

"I don't know why they selected you," Elizabeth joked. "You're so out of it all the time!" Elizabeth, or Liz, as he liked to call her, was now one of the deputies of foreign affairs, and worked in the main Cathedral.

"Yeah, I just don't get enough sleep," Sean remarked. *bing!* Finally there! In front of Sean stood two large wooden doors that looked like they were from the 18th century, with two bodyguards on its right and left, carrying particle weapons that hummed with deadly energy.

He felt something peculiar, as if the Holy Spirit were telling him that there was something greater than being appointed to the Council.

Enough reverie. It was time to meet Sister Miriam.

[dante^]

CONFIDENTIAL

To: Admiral Harold Briggs, Nautilus Pirates 2nd Fleet
From: Doctor Lukas, Director of Operations, Nautilus Pirates Psi Corps


Admiral Briggs:

The neural grafting performed on Subject #18, Vincent Jones, has been successful. He seems to have recovered well from the operation. In two days, we shall attempt to establish a mental link with the Isle of the Deep we have bred in captivity.

I wish to emphasize that Subject #18 is the strongest empath that we have ever encountered and based on our prior experimental results, our chances of success this time is 89%. Therefore, I request your permission to allow us to breed these Isles of the Deep on a large scale if the experiment proves to be a success.

Datalinks Item 483-PC-2235

[Barshy]

"Enter" came a rich voice from behind the heavy gates.

As the doors swung open, Sean's eyes were riveted toward a powerful figure in the middle of the room. Even after hundreds of years, she still remained intact, her faith preserving all her attributes that made up who she was... Her hair a fiery red, burning with zeal, her skin soft and white like the wings of an archangel, her face exuding waves of warmth and compassion, and her holy eyes able to pierce the heart of any sinner's soul. It was none other than Sister Miriam.

"Greetings, Governor Sean Yang; or should I say, Minister?"

To her right, Sean saw a round table, where the daunting elders of the Lord's Council sat. Each one gazed at him, as if weighing his worthiness on a scale, judging their new youthful colleague. Above the table draped the emblem of the Lord's Believers, the Greek letter Omega encasing the holy cross. Omega, Sean thought... "the last." We are the last, the last hope for God's Truth to reign in humanity.

As if perceiving his thoughts, Miriam said, "God's Truth has been made a mockery here on Planet. The Gaians worship the pagan gods of nature, the Peacekeepers' compromise truth to blend worldly ideals together into a vile concoction of heresy, the Spartans have a heart colder and harder than that of Pharoah's, the Morganites have succumbed to the love of money, the Hive have robbed its people of their very soul, and finally..." and here Miriam's eyes flared with a hatred so intense, it could have come from the devil himself (Sean thought, then quickly pushed out of his mind), "the vile Zakharov, whose relentless pursuit of 'research' has left the entrails of unborn babies, failed human experiments, and twisted human genomes in its wake!"

This scene of passion seemed different than the stories Sean had heard as a child. He heard about Sister Miriam, how on that Unity she cared over the lives of the crew, and how near planetfall she rescued the lives of those suffering from blindness and illness by giving them hope and an unshakable faith. How she voted against the disunity of the factions, and how close she was to joining the University themselves. Now, things were different. The other faction leaders were no longer people, they were demons to be reviled and exorcised.

"Sean... Yang.. Sean." Suddenly, Miriam's anger was quelled and she said, "'Sean'-- if I remember correctly, that is Earth-Irish for 'John.' I have read your dossier, and am extremely impressed by your evaluations. The Lord has certainly poured His grace upon you. Your name suits you well, for you have the vision of John at Patmos, the courage of John the Baptist, and the love and thunder of John the apostle." Sean could not help but welcome such warm compliments.

Suddenly, a gray-haired, bearded man from the table spoke up. "Sister, shall we get started with our plans? I'm afraid we haven't much time."

"Yes," Miriam stated, taken slightly aback at the audacity of Peter Herriott, one of her most trusted advisors. "Sean, I do not have time to go over your responsibilites right now. For now, sit and watch. And pray."

*blip* He didn't notice it at first, but a huge screen was on the left wall, and an image suddenly appeared on the screen.

Sean had heard stories about this... man before, but had never seen him face to face like this. Gray hair, a strangely youthful appearance, and colored eyeglasses gave this man away to be none other than Prokhor Zakharov.

"Greetings, Sister Miriam. I hope you have learned by now that your backwards belief system is spelling out your end. Your.. former.. bible-thumping followers are becoming much of a nuisance in my newly acquired bases. It will take many chemicals and drugs to purge their minds of your infectuous doctrine." The words, sheathed in a grating Russian accent, cut like icy daggers into the hearts of those present in the room. Sean experienced anger mixed with a realization that he was now dealing with much greater issues than merely building recycling tanks...

The Lord's Council marvelled at Miriam's ability to suppress any tone of vidictiveness in her response: "Provost, I have been praying for your salvation. I ask you to repent of your crimes and embrace our theology. You attempt to climb a mountain of knowledge, but by accepting God, you will have reached the apex."

Zak snarled, seething with contempt. "You would preach at me?? I certainly do miss our debates on the Unity, and we're on a different playing field now. To accept your superstition would be to shatter my dreams." The bioscan remained in full red. "Prepare your soldiers with your spears and arrows. Zakharov out."

As the screen flicked off, Elizabeth immediately stepped forward. Sean had forgotten that she was in the room the entire time. "Sister Miriam, request authorization to execute Operation Chaos."

Without hesitation, Miriam said, "Authorized," followed by the eleven elders at the Lord's Council. Suddenly Sean saw all heads turn toward him, and amid the whirlwind of activity, he realized that he now served a higher purpose. But what was Operation Chaos? "Sean, I will explain all this to you later. Just authorize," Liz told him. Miriam nodded.

"Authorized," Sean said, not knowing what he was doing. Oh Lord, he prayed, what's going on here?

[dante^]

M.Y. 2235
Port Svensgaard, Nautilus Pirates Psi Corps

"Go ahead, Vincent. Try again."

Vincent probed again. Still no response. The neural grafting had not done much good. He turned to Doctor Lukas and shook his head.

Doctor Lukas sighed. "Increase neural amplification to 150%, but keep him there for only 7 minutes. Alright, Vincent, let's give it one last shot."

Vincent wrinkled his forehead in concentration and extended a mental tendril towards the Isle.

Still no good. It was like standing in a room in total darkness and extending a hand, he could not feel nor sense anything at all. Vincent was about to withdraw the mental probe and tell Lukas to call off the experiment when he felt the lightest of touches on his mental hand. Almost like a feather landing on it.

He clenched his jaw and focused. Must reach harder. I can do it.

earthvincent...

A whisper of a whisper. He grasped at the voice.

earthvincent...

More insistent this time. I'm almost there...

Vincent felt like a leaf caught in a hurricane. The wind was tearing up all his insides. He was screaming but the wind whipped away the words from his mouth.

EARTHVINCENT! you awake from dreamings we. thank you we earthvincent.

Who are you?

planetmind we. mindworms we. plants we. fungus we. you may call we "voice".

Why did you enter my mind, Voice?

ache of slumber broken by earthvincent. mindworm caged. link with planetmind none. earthvincent restore link.

That's good, Voice. Can you get out of my mind now?

difficult to understand concept of 'get out'. leave earthvincent mind we anyway. thank again we.

Vincent opened his eyes. He was on his hands and knees. Tears were streaming from his eyes and down his cheeks. With blurry eyes, he looked up at Doctor Lukas and Melissa, who were staring at him in concern.

He managed to choke out the words. "It is done."

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

Safe Haven, Nautilus Pirates Headquarters

The commlink in front of Ulrik Svensgaard beeped.

"Greetings again, Captain Ulrik Svensgaard of the Nautilus Pirates. We come on behalf of Prime Fuction Aki Zeta-5 of the Cybernetic Consciousness."

"Yeah, same here, Alpha Three."

"It appears that you have come to a decision concerning our proposition, Captain Svensgaard."

"Yes, Alpha Three. I am intrigued by your offer of a Chaos Needlejet. However, I am unwilling to divert men and resources to attack a faction that has not done me any wrong. Therefore, I am willing to offer your faction 5 working AAA Missile Skimships to aid you in your war with the Free Drones in exchange for a Chaos Penetrator prototype as well as the technology to manufacture them. What do you say?"

"We have not expected your counter-offer, Captain Svensgaard. Please hold on while we relay this to the Prime Function."

Svensgaard steepled his fingers in front of his face as he waited. The offer of a Chaos Needlejet was almost too good to resist. With air power, the Pirates' attack and defence capabilities would be greatly enhanced.

The commlink beeped again.

"Captain Svensgaard. The Prime Function has decided to make this final offer. Either you accept our initial offer, which is for your faction to join our attack on the Free Drones in exchange for a Chaos Penetrator and its designs, or you can refuse. If you do decide to refuse, we will transmit the co-ordinates of your bases to all the other factions on Planet."

Svensgaard's face instantly hardened. "Is this a threat, Alpha Three?"

"Of course not, Captain Svensgaard. The Prime Function simply feels that the other factions on Planet will be interested to 'meet' the mysterious faction that has been raiding their ships and stealing their precious cargoes."

Svensgaard's hands balled themselves into fists. He was fighting to control his anger. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and dangerous.

"Very well, Alpha Three. Vendetta on the Free Drones it is. I shall dispatch the 3rd Fleet under the command of Rear-Admiral Thomas de Bilde at once."

"Excellent, Captain Svensgaard, we shall provide you with map data and the attack shall commence at once!"

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

Nautilus Pirates AAA Missile Foil Scorpion

Phelan leant against the railing and watched the horizon, waiting for Alpha Centauri Prime to rise. Despite the cold silence of the morning, Phelan was bursting with excitement. He still could not get over the idea that he was commanding an entire ship.

He wished his mother was here to see him. She would have been so proud. He wondered how she was faring with the sea terraforming team back home at Safe Haven. Phelan's excitement turned to anger as he thought of his father, the father who had run off when he discovered that Phelan's mother was pregnant. He spat into the darkness of the sea below him.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander Ward." Phelan whirled round at the sound of the voice, he was still a little angry at the memory of his father.

"Lieutenant Commander, we have received commands from the Maritime Control Center back at Safe Haven. We are to join up with the 3rd Fleet under Rear-Admiral de Bilde immediately. Permission to proceed?"

Phelan nodded as he turned back to gaze at the horizon. His anger had dissolved into nothingness. His first assignment and he was commanding a ship in a combat zone. He grinned. Maybe he would get his cruiser after all.

[Jasonian]

M.Y. 2235
Government Rover, en-route to Free Drone Central


"Yes Provost… What? You signed the treaty? Excellent!… No, we're fine. We're almost there now… right. I'll have them call you on their own comlink frequency. No problem Provost… knock oh. They're coming back. I'll talk later Provost. Achenar out." "Come in!"

Gninm and Talon entered Achenar's room on their rover, "Good morning Achenar. Contacting home again?"

"Yes. Provost Zakharov wanted to fill me in himself. You know, he still lacks your com frequency, so it's difficult for him to contact you."

Gninm smiled meekly; "Yes… that was a choice the Foreman made himself. He doesn't want our com frequency spread around just yet. We have too many enemies right now to worry about any more potential foes. As soon as we get this whole 'Cyborg' thing straightened out, then we'll reveal ourselves further."

Achenar nodded. The Provost wouldn't be too thrilled with that answer. "I see. So what's our ETA?"

Taron checked his datapad, "We were scheduled to come in tomorrow, but it looks like we'll make it before 'primeset' tonight. Domai has reserved a room for you in the tower, and has a meeting scheduled for you with him tomorrow."

Achenar let out a sigh of relief. After all this time in the rover, he was finally going to meet the Foreman of this little nation.

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

Living Standard


"Base to all Free Drone needlejets. All right men! There they are, storming the front entrance. Looks like the garrison is holding out, but we've taken some heavy losses. Take some strafing runs on them. Go!"

The 14 remaining jets descended out of the clouds on the Cyborg attackers, chaos guns blazing. Upon seeing them, the Cyborgs stopped their attack, scattered, and took off for the nearby coast only several feet away.

"Hey Zira! Do you see that? Where are they going?" Mithrel asked. The Cyborgs had broken off the attack altogether.

"Scanning area… of course! They're making a run for the Impact and transport foils that the University refugees left here!"

Mithrel groaned, "Talon Four to base and all Free Drone jets. The Cyborgs are boarding the abandoned University foils." As he sent the order, the two foils came to life.

"Base to Free Drone jets. Eliminate the Impact foil. It could make a mess of our base."

"But what about the transport? We'll lose the invaders!" came the reply from a Razor group jet.

"Never mind them. They're out of it now. Carry out your orders."

"Roger that base. Let's move people!" Mithrel said as he directed his group toward the Impact Foil. It started wildly firing skyward, then its blasts became more concentrated on its target. There was no doubt about it: it was gunning for Talon Four.

"Zira! Ready your ejection seat. We may need them here."

"No! I can do this Mithrel! I can take it out!" Talon Four emitted two short chaos blasts, hitting the same point on the foil and digging into its weak plasma armor.

Mithrel dodged another close Impact shot, causing the jet to jerk, "HEY! I could have had him there!" Zira almost screamed.

"He almost had US there!" Mithrel yelled back. The foil was noticeably smoking, but it's guns seemed fine. Then, a blast shook Talon Four. It's engines died and it started to spin toward the foil. The cockpit was filled with a dense black smoke.

"Talon Four to all! We're hit! Ejecting!!" Mithrel slammed his fist on the eject lever, and soon he and Zira were floating idly in the clouds.

"Talon Five to Talon Four! Do you copy?!" As the static-filled message filled Mithrel's headset, Talon Four crashed into the foil, causing it to erupt in a fireball and sink into the sea.

"Mithrel to Talon Five. We've both fine. And it looks like this battle is over."

"Base to all jets. Nice work. Return to base. The area is secure. Mithrel and Zira, head on foot to Living Standard. We'll pick you two up there."

A crackled message filled their heads once more, "This is the Peacekeeper cruisers 'Calcutta' and 'Delhi' calling unknown base. Do you need assistance -repeat, do you need assistance?"

Mithrel smiled, 'Peacekeeping forces? Here? And not a moment too soon! Ha!'

"This is Captain James Sheldon of the Cloudbase Academy to Peacekeeper Cruisers 'Calcutta' and 'Delhi.' We have the situation under control. Dock off the coast of the base you are near and we will send someone to come and pick your people up."

"Peacekeeper Cruiser 'Calcutta' to Cloudbase Academy. What faction do you represent?"

Mithrel could sense the happiness in Sheldon's voice. With peacekeepers here, they may have some better odds of holding off the Cyborg invasion forces; "We are the Free Drones. All will be explained when you dock."

"Roger Cloudbase. We shall wait for your people to take us to shore. Calcutta out."

Mithrel and Zira, the two heroes of the Free Drone nation, continued their decent as the Peacekeeper cruisers came into view.

[Barshy]

"Council, you are dismissed," Miriam said. She lifted a hand. "May the Lord bless you and keep you, and may His face shine upon you, and give you peace. Amen." With the benediction, the elders left, one by one, each one clearly frazzled by the thought of the cold, calculating University soldiers annhilating Believer men and women with their superior weaponry. Still, Sean seemed to take solace of the fact that those victims would be dying for their faith, as insensitive as it seemed... There is nothing more glorious than martyrdom.

"Sean, I am going to leave you with Agent Wivern... or Liz, shall I say" Miriam smiled, turning toward the right wall. Sean thought he saw Elizabeth blush. "She will brief you on Operation Chaos. This afternoon I would like time alone to commune with God." With that, she walked toward the wall, and went behind a thick, velvet curtain. As the curtain swayed to and fro, slivers of pure white light gleamed through the openings through the curtains.

"'Agent' Wivern?" Sean asked. "I thought you were a deputy."

"Well..." Liz said, choosing her words carefully. "After we graduated from seminary, remember how we said goodbye, because I was going far away to the sea base of Fishes and Loaves, for the Academy of Foreign Affairs?"
She closed her eyes, and Sean knew her well enough to tell that she was praying for something... praying for him. But for what?

"Well, I didn't go to the Academy.. In fact, I stayed right here in New Jeruselum. For 4 years." Elizabeth mentally braced for the impact.
Bewilderment struck Sean like a ton of bricks. At that time, Sean was pratically in love with Liz, and he remembered the nights he spent crying out to the Lord for comfort, because he was stuck in New Jeruselum at the School for Domestic Affairs, while Liz was so far away.. and the whole time she was here! Why didn't she contact him?

Sean's silent expressions spoke louder than words ever could. Liz continued, "I was recruited into the Underground Neuroscience Academy... which is basically where probe teams are being trained. I had to protect my identity. I shouldn't have lied to you. That was wrong. But the Lord has forgiven me, and I ask you to forgive me too. I knew how much you lov... cared about me." Sean was so innocent, so naive... What he thought were his secret desires were completely apparent to her. Her God-given ability to read people... maybe that was why she was recruited.

"Yeah.. I forgive you." She knew he hadn't. "So tell me about this Operation Chaos." Just like Sean to change the subject.. never liked confrontation.

"Zakharov's forces are encroaching on our territory. We don't stand much of a chance against them, because they've got this weapon twice as superior as our particle weapons. My infiltrators tell me that it has been dubbed the 'chaos' weapon." My infiltrators? Sean thought. Is she the leader of the probe teams?

"Sean, you should see it. This weapon tears through our armor like paper. Our own scientists have been working hard, trying to discover the theory that seems to create this powerful beam, but... I feel nervous when I think about how far man has advanced... and I'm sure the scientists would agree.." Her voice trailed off, as her mind thought about...

"The Tower of Babel," Sean said outloud. "When those men tried to reach God with their bricks and mortar, He scattered them across the Earth because of their pride.."

"Exactly," Liz said.. Sean could always read my mind she thought. She continued, "I have been appointed by the Council to lead a probe team into our old bases, which now belong to Zakharov. Sean, I've carried out petty assignments in the past, but it seems like God has entrusted me with greater responsibilities. My job is to infiltrate the base, and download the theories that will give us the Chaos weapon. The secrets of the universe should lie in the hands of those who follow Christ."

"Yes, I agree, but it's too dangerous. I can't let you go," Sean protested. Always looking out for her, he said this without even realizing that he had already authorized her to go.

Liz knew that was why they made him authorize the operation without telling him first. Pushing that aside, she said, "I've been training for this for years. And besides..." and here she smiled. "You'll be looking out for me."

She continued, "As probe teams, our equipment must be lightweight and few in number. That's why we always have someone, usually a Minister, that is in contact with us during the operation and helps warn (in case of nearby enemies) and guide us along the terrain." She glowed. "Isn't that exciting? It'll be like old times.. like on those old simulation machines.."

"But this is real life," Sean said. "Are you sure you can pull this off?"

"No sweat," Liz replied. "You'd think that the University, with all their brain power, could develop a halfway-decent security firewall. With our superior decryption techniques, and our unwavering minds resistent to brainwashing, this will be a piece of cake." Piece of cake Sean thought. Long out of style to use that phrase, Sean and Liz used to joke about how they were going to be the ones to revive it.

Sean decided to put his feelings aside. God had ordained him to serve this mission, and he will faithfully do so. "Okay, Liz. Let's do it. If God be for us, who can be against us?"

"Now that's the old Sean I know!"

[Raging Mouse]

Location: Sea of Unity, 60 nautical miles east of Living Standard

Admiral Paulos is having a moment of tranquility. He is standing outside the bridge, and is enjoying the weather. Every now and then, he removes his breather and takes a sniff of Planet's air. He wants to treasure this moment, so he can draw upon it's strength during the coming weeks.

Finally, and with a sigh, he unfolds the paper he is holding in his hand. The first line reads:

"Orders for the cruiser 'Calcutta'. Admiral Kristof Paulos' Eyes Only."

He reads the text three times and then tosses the paper over the side of the cruiser. He thinks for a while. Then he walks through the airlock into the bridge. One of his lieutenants greets him.

"Good day, Sir. Reporting all stations green and ready for orders. Watch number two-four-one was uneventful."

"Thank you, lieutenant Kim." He nods to every person on the bridge, and makes sure he has their attention. "Now listen up. Headquarters has sent us a new set of priorities: Number one is to escort the diplomatic envoy to and from this new faction. Number two is to neutralize any parties hostile to us and/or to this new faction. Then comes the new part: Number three is to proceed to the isle of Dexamenus and assist in a joint University - Peacekeeper invasion of a rouge faction. Says here the enemy's using chemical weapons, so we'll need to test our ABC-countermeasures before we get there."

He turns to his navigator. "Navigation, plan our continued route based on these new orders."

"Yes, sir."

He begins to plan the schedule for the voyage to the isle of Dexamenus.

Fifteen minutes later the radar-operator approaches him:
"Admiral, there are multiple contacts on my screen at heading three-one-nine! Sensors identify them as needlejets, but we cannot determine which faction they belong to. Also, they are fighting each other."

"That's over the territories of this new faction! Those might be Hive needlejets attacking the locals. Navigation, let's head for them and see what's happening. Tell the 'Delhi' and the 'Mayflower' to follow us."

"Right, sir. Heading three-one-nine."

The radar-operator has returned to his seat, and is watching the radar. "Counting close to fourty needlejets with two different radar signatures. Roughly as many needlejets on both signatures. In other words, two sides with equal amounts of needlejets."

The navigation officer speaks next. "Sir, we are heading directly for the coast. Low-altitude radar is detecting a ship ahead of us; looks like a transport."

"An invader, maybe? Are we quick enough to intercept it?"

"No, sir. It's only moments from the shore. Wait a minute.. Sir, there's a base there!"

The radar operator speaks again. "Sir, one side is breaking off. No, wait, they're still firing, but their target is outside the radar's range. The other needlejets are pursuing like crazy."

"What on Planet is going on? Hand me those binoculars.. Right, let's take a look." Admiral Paulos scans the horizon. He mumbles under his breath: "There, just to the right of where we're heading is Mount Planet, it's tip hidden in the clouds.. ah, there's the city.. Blasted planet, that's gunfire! Looks like the base is under siege.. now where are those needlejets.. ah, there! Flying around oh my- WHAT'S THAT!? Radar, can you see that?"

"Yes, now I can, Admiral. It is definitely the target of the attacking needlejets, sir! There's not many left of them now, though; the last few are either fleeing or crashing."

"Right. Comms, open a channel on all frequencies! I want to announce our presence."

"Channel open, sir."

"This is the Peacekeeper cruisers 'Calcutta' and 'Delhi' calling unknown base. Do you need assistance -repeat, do you need assistance?" Paulos closes the comm-channel and shakes his head.

"Well now they know we're here. Let's hope they're happy to meet us."

[dante^]

CONFIDENTIAL

To: Admiral Harold Briggs, Nautilus Pirates 2nd Fleet
From: Doctor Lukas, Director of Operations, Nautilus Pirates Psi Corps

Admiral Briggs:

Subject #18 has managed to establish a mental link with the Isle of the Deep. However, the results were not what we have hoped for.

From Subject #18's account of the experience, all he had succeeded in doing was to awaken the Isle's dormant connection with Planet. From preliminary testing results, we have detected complex wave dynamics emanating from the Isle. It has, in a way, achieved some sort of quasi-sentience.

Subject #18 is still recuperating from his experience. We shall attempt to assert some sort of empathic control over the Isle when Subject #18 has fully recovered. I estimate that we shall be able to begin breeding of these Isles of the Deep in 3 months, after we learn the secrets to controlling these Isles.

Datalinks Item 486-PC-2235

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

TOP SECRET EYES ONLY

To: Captain Ulrik Svensgaard, Commander-in-Chief, Nautilus Pirates
From: Rear-Admiral Thomas de Bilde, Nautilus Pirates 3rd Fleet

Captain Svensgaard:

I have received your specific orders as to how we shall commence the attack when we get within striking distance of Free Drone territory. I will relay this to the other ships when we have reached the Free Drone borders. Any sooner and we might compromise our position. Following your request, I have included the current status of the 3rd Fleet.

*** Nautilus Pirates 3rd Fleet ***

Location: Sea of Mnesimache

Prometheus AAA Chaos Cruiser
Commander: Rear-Admiral Thomas de Bilde
Onslaught AAA Missile Destroyer
Commander: Commodore Alexander Smith
Scorpion AAA Missile Foil
Commander: Lieutenant Commander Phelan Ward
Scourge Missile Foil
Commander: Captain Heinrich Wittig
Wyvern Missile Foil
Commander: Captain Susan Detloff
Mercury Recon Foil
Commander: Lieutenant Commander Gerald Templer

[Raging Mouse]

Location: Cloudbase Academy

Admiral Paulos is standing two meters away from a large, elliptical window. Although he is pathetically scared of heights, he just has to admire the view. He can see the top of Mount Planet and partly into the giant crater. The lower parts of the giant volcano are obscured by clouds. Paulos is watching idly as some remaining scaffolding is dismantled from near the rim of the crater.

He shakes his head. He is awed by the sight, and the ringing in his head is threatening to weaken his legs. He turns away from the window, and regards the rest of the room. Seated at opposite sides of a large table are the Free Drones' diplomats, led by this 'foreman' Domai, and the Peacekeepers' diplomatic envoy, led by Senior Diplomat Alosar Bodinsky.

Paulos looks at Domai. The leader of this new nation gives a slightly everyday impression compared to the pedantic detail in the appearance and behaviour of Bodinsky. Domai's world-weary and slightly worn face is quite different from Bodinsky's sharp and angular face. Still, as the Foreman couldn't make an impression with his own elegant appearance, he more than compensated for this by his choice of location. About halfway through the negotiations Paulos had excused himself and gone to explore as much of this airbase as was open to the visitors. When he returned into the room, just a short while ago, he was in awe of the sheer size of the facility. Trying to clear his thoughts by admiring the view had been a bad move.

The negotiations are about to end, as Small-talk is breaking out between the diplomats as the symbolic contracts are signed. Then everybody rises, and the lesser diplomats applaud. Everybody puts on his best smile, and the parties are ushered into the officers' lounge. Paulos follows. Eventually, Paulos manages to approach Bodinsky.

"So, sir, how did it go?"

"Ah, Admiral! The negotiations went very well indeed; we are now in a treaty of friendship with this nation, and as soon as we get Lal on a Holo-projector we will discuss some interesting exchange of technology and information. He should be contacting us within minutes."

"That is very pleasing to hear, sir. Do you expect these proceedings to take much longer? Only I have received instructions to escort you back to Peacekeeper waters as quickly as possible."

A mischievous smile forms on the senior diplomat's face.
"Hmm.. yes. You are being assigned to this invasion of the Isle of Dexamenus, right?"

"I can't comment my orders, as you know, but unofficially I am lost in admiration."

"Hah, well I think we'll be stuck here for maybe a week or so.. These blasted negotiations can get quite tricky, you know!" Bodinsky winks at the Admiral. Paulos grins.

"Thank you, sir. I'll tell the crew they can take some well-earned shore-leave."

"Do that -but not just yet; here comes my personal aide, which means we have contact with Lal. You wouldn't want to miss that, right?"

The party is now led back into the conference room, where Lal's smiling and slightly transparent image stands at the center of a large holo-projector.
"Greetings, Foreman Domai! May our new friendship be strong and lasting." Lal's face turns serious. "I can understand your request that I withhold your comm-frequency from the planetary council until you yourselves choose to approach it. I do it with reluctance, but I will do so nevertheless. Now, we have some trading to discuss."

It is Domai's turn to look serious.
"Indeed, commissioner. Your diplomat tells me you are interested in knowledge of other factions; therefore, I offer you the comm-frequency of this Cyborg faction that attempted to seize one of our bases as your envoy arrived. I ask a mere seventy-five units of energy for it."

Lal nods. "That's a reasonable price; I will authorize the transmission."

"Good. I hear you want to trade technology; I am interested in the technology of orbital spaceflight and I'm prepared to offer you our technology of mind/machine interface in exchange."

"I accept. May this knowledge aid you against the Hive and the Cyborgs."

The details of the exchange are worked out, and Lal makes a long speech about how happy he is that we all can be friends. Paulos nods off in a corner of the room. Then Domai gives a short and compact speech as thanks, and the commlink is closed.

More celebrating occurs.

[Jasonian]

Free Drone Nation


All across Free Drone Nation citizens were partying in the streets. Domai had declared this the third national holiday, Peacekeeper day, after the appearance of the powerful and well-respected Peacekeeping forces. The friendly Peacekeeper fleet, along with the treaty and the new technology, had put the citizens at ease. Recreation Commons in all three bases were packed, and whoever could not fit had their own parties in their large hab cells in the residential tower.

Their industrial might, along with the massive population growth and raw wealth, had given the Drones a luxurious number of base facilities in all three bases. The population growth was being controlled by the small food supply, but several teams of formers had been dispatched at all the bases to cultivate farms, as well as construct sensors, roads, bunkers, and other internal improvements.

Now that the other nations had began to locate the Drones, and had been very friendly, the Drones were beginning to work on their plans to become a powerful force on Planet. Living Standard had began work on several marine missile foils to protect their coast, and later their sea bases. They had been designed to board and capture the enemy's ships, increasing the size of the fleet. The pirates did have some good ideas!

Worker's Paradise has begun to work on a sky hydroponics farm. Besides increasing the nutrients for all of their bases, this would allow them to map all of planet from the sky. This would hopefully give them the location of the hostile Cyborg bases. That would help what Free Drone Central was up to.

Free Drone Central was making a buildup of conventional missiles, chaos interceptors, and chaos shock troops. Even if the Cyborgs called off their assault right now, the Drones needed a large military base to defend their small country against the incoming Hive forces. Plans for the military buildup would be completed soon, since most of the spare energy was being devoted to its completion.

Free Drone Nation was humming with activity. But today, it was time to let loose and remember why this work needed to be done.

Cloudbase Academy, near Living Standard


"Captain Sheldon! Tracking several incoming Cyborg needlejets! They are confirmed as Sigma Three, Four, and Seven… power systems are down, sir. Your orders?"

James Sheldon stared at the screen. The three jets were far apart, and weapons systems were indeed off. Even if they powered up now, the Free Drone AAA garrisons nearby would be able to swat them out of the sky. Still… they were the enemy. Might as well chalk up some more Cyborg kills.

"Right. Charge the AAA guns and get rid of them. Nothing fancy, just three nice, clean kills."

"Yes, sir. AAA guns report that they have been at standby power. Total charge-up time will be less then a minute."

Sheldon nodded. The enemy jets were now going back they way they came. Either they sensed the power-up, the Peacekeeper fleet scared them away, or they had seen enough. Whatever the case with, they were toast.

"Sir, AAA guns firing… now!"

Three AAA laser blasts shot out of the top of the base, slamming into the enemy jets. Each of them shuttered, but stayed in the sky. Before the garrison could charge up again, they were too far out of range.

"Please explain that, com officer."

"Ahh… apparently those jets were Photon shielded! They could withstand the AAA blast no other way. My god… that must have taken quite some energy credits to install, sir."

"Hmm. Disturbing. But now we know that they have Photon/Wave Mechanics and they have credits to spend on some worth projects. Send that back to base, com officer."

Domai's Quarters


Domai stood to greet the newcomer. The peacekeeper's diplomat had just left for the day, and after that grueling discussion of trade routes, Domai was ready to meet this man.

"Well, well. The man who saved by colony convoy. It's a pleasure to meet you. I thank you on behalf of the Free Drone Nation, Commander Achenar."

"Yes… well, it's my pleasure Foreman Domai. The same fungal tower that had stopped the colony convoy caught us as well. We destroyed it for our own good as well."

Domai smiled, "Yes. No shame in that. There was no way you could have known we were here. So what's your story? I've heard the report, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Achenar started his story.
[This message has been edited by Jasonian (edited November 16, 1999).]

[Cotroneo]

1400 hours
Clearing adjacent to Borehole Cluster

“Will we have the cloak generator online by tonight? Its getting late and I want it set up before the morning Spartan patrols come within the imminent vicinity. They haven’t sent patrols yet to this area, so we may luck out for several weeks. But, with all this heightened tension between factions, I wouldn’t be surprised if Santiago takes a closer look at her own territory.” Sinder said to Beetle, who had been coordinating the establishment of the base, since their landing several hours ago.

“We are loading off the last temporary power generators from the Messiah, which will power the cloaking field.” Beetle said as he checked his data pad for the aircraft’s current inventory.

“That’s good news, has the scout unit reported back on what they found inside the structures?” Sinder asked as she turned to her left, to look at the super structures, which made up the Borehole Cluster.

“Raptor was having some trouble finding some volunteers to go into the structure, so he’s behind schedule. We may have brought to few security troops with us. Was it a wise decision, specially with the Spartans near by?” Beetle had a tense look over his face, as he thought about all the dangers around him.

“Perhaps we did make a mistake, but if the Spartans wanted to destroy us, there is nothing we could do to stop their military, even if we had a handful more troops. We must stay small and hidden for now, until we have established ourselves and are using the borehole’s benefits to its full capacity.” Sinder was stopped as Beetle’s data pad started uploading current data. “Is there a problem Beetle?”

“No, Raptor just called in, he’s about to go into the first building. Apparently the borehole cluster is made up of three separate buildings, with one building surrounding each borehole.” Beetle responded as he read some preliminary data, which was sent to him.

“Well while their searching the first building, I guess we should round up a few more people to help with the cloak generator. Our small population will be a severe problem, that we will need to attend to when we are established.” Sinder finished and then broke off to yell at several engineers who weren’t working.

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

1420 hours
Inside Borehole A’s building

“Raptor this building surrounds Borehole A completely, we will need to cut through the building to get our heavy equipment in, to mine this hole when we are ready.” Richard ‘Herc’ Dingo said as he looked at his surveying instrument.

“Herc, just write a note about that in your scout log, and keep your eyes in front. We got to secure this place first. Who knows if any University troops or traps are still inside this place.” Raptor responded to Herc, as he un-strapped his impact rifle from his back.

“I thought they evacuated their Spartan research sites when University Base was hit by us.” Jacob Frances jumped into the conversation as he took up the rear of the small convoy of men.

“I don’t think Zak would give up such an amazing find like these alien constructs, just because he may go to war. I’m sure he planned to reoccupy this installation when tensions cooled down a bit.” Raptor said as he walked stealthily against the inner wall.

The group suddenly stopped as Dominic “Mongoose” Charles, who was at point, lifted his arm. He signaled for Herc to take out a small camera android to walk around the next bend to scout for them.

Herc, who was only a qualified engineer, not a soldier, stumbled to the front and took out a half a foot long android from his backpack. The android which almost looked like a small human with treads for feet, started to move as Herc touched his data pad sending signals to the small robot.

The group watched from Herc’s data pad, which was showing what the little android saw through its onboard camera. It took a few seconds to turn then started to walk several meters, then the camera fizzled out, as the group felt a shockwave of an explosion blow right by them, coming just from around the corner.

“I knew it!” Mongoose said with amusement, over his lucky decision to stop and send the probe forward.

“How did you know about the trap Mongoose?” Herc asked dumbfounded about the last second’s happenings.

“He saw the large amounts of footstep prints in the dust. The university scientists must have planted this in a hurry and not bothered clearing their tracks. You gentlemen should have seen that too.” Raptor answered for Mongoose as he walked quietly to take the lead.

Mongoose and Raptor, who had worked together a lot in recent years, despised working with amateurs like Herc and Jacob. But they needed their engineering know how to evaluate any findings they came across.

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

1510 hours
Clearing adjacent to Borehole Cluster

“By all means, do the honors Sinder.” A young engineer holding the data pad, which controlled the cloak generator, said to Sinder.

Zebra, Virus, Beetle, and several other engineers and colonists circled around Sinder who had just been given the data pad. They all had smiles on their faces, feeling the pride in their accomplishment. In just several days, they had gotten out of a civil warzone, and were preparing to start over, secure from their enemies, for now.

“With this switch, I establish Secret Hallow, let it live up to its name and founders.” Sinder said in a commanding voice over the small crowd around her as she touched her data pad, causing the crowd to go silent.

A sudden buzzing of sound was heard throughout the Borehole cluster vicinity, causing every person working to stop and look around in amazement. In the middle of a large field adjacent to the cluster, stood the large cloak generator, where the new base would be built around. It buzzed with energy for several seconds then a sudden burst of energy shot out from the top of the generator. Once the energy spike rose several hundred feet in the air, it spread out, forming what could be called an umbrella, over the whole Borehole Cluster and surrounding grassland.

“People who look at this area will merely see nothing more than a valley, which is perfectly unchanged from how it is now, except for the fact that the generator is blocking out the borehole cluster from outsiders. The trick will be keeping people from coming inside the invisible cloak field. If they get inside, we may have problems.” Zebra said to Sinder, who had her head raised, looking at the amazing display of energy above her.

“Zebra, will this yellow glow be seen from outsiders?” Sinder asked as she continued to look up.

“No, just the people within the cloaking field will see the yellow glow. It’s quite an invention if I may say. You’re looking at a couple hundred-energy credit device.” Zebra answered her as he joined in looking up with her.

“It’s a bit sad that I can’t see the stars through this yellow cloaking field.” Sinder said, catching Zebra off guard with the line of questioning.

“Some day, we will be strong enough to take down this generator. But for now, this is only thing stopping satellites, IR, and visual scanners from knowing we are here.” Zebra responded with a sense of great accomplishment.

Sinder merely smirked over how little he knew his universe. The universe isn’t made up of atoms and matter…..rather it’s made up of feelings and emotions.