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  • #31
    Free Drone Central


    "Domai here. What's the latest Hain?"

    "Colony module 35 has finally been found. They were attacked by native life forms and their radio took excessive damage."

    "Excellent! What great news!"

    "There's more, sir."

    "Oh?"

    "… Some of those missing University troops showed up to help in their defense. They're being escorted here to try to contact the rest of their people on the slopes of Mount Planet."

    "Hmm...," Domai mulled it over. The University now knew about their existence, but they had joined up with the Free Drones. Perhaps this was a fortunate turn of events.

    Hain continued, "… sir, those University troops were refugees from an attack on University base itself. Apparently they had a pact with the Spartan Federation, and the Spartans betrayed them and gassed their capital."

    "How odd… the Spartans are all about loyalty and honor. It's an odd move for them to use nerve gas."

    "They agree, but the evidence points to the Spartans…. Oh. They have a request of us."

    "That being?"

    "They want to tell the University of our base here, and they think they'll be able to arrange a treaty with us. They'll agree not to tell any other factions of our existence if we don't either."

    Domai smiled, "They want a monopoly on our industry, eh? Tell them we'll talk when they arrive here. But I don't think they'll be able to hide us for long, especially with what's going to happen tomorrow."

    "… Ha ha…right. I'll relay that message."

    "Good. Is that all Hain?"

    "Yes, foreman. Hain out."

    ***

    The 2nd Free Drone base, Worker's Paradise, had finally been founded, but Domai couldn't afford the trip down to speak, for there was something important going on at Free Drone Central.

    Most of Free Drone Central's citizens were on the top of Mount Planet's highest slopes, close to the crater itself. Foreman Domai stood on a raised platform, finishing his morale speech.

    'What a great day for us! The artifacts did exactly what we thought they would. They finished the Cloudbase for us!' Domai thought

    "And, with that said, I present to you, the most advanced air training base on Planet, the Cloudbase Academy!" Domai finished.

    Inside the crater there was a deep rumbling. The crowd silenced in anticipation of what they were about to see. Slowly, as if in slow motion, It rose out of the crater. First came the very top of the spires, shining with radio and sensor equipment, ready to transmit a message to base, sense a imminent storm, coordinate a battle test, or detect any incoming enemy fighters.

    Next came the structures themselves, the living quarters, mess halls, instruction rooms, and battle simulators. All the buildings needed to house an entire class of ace pilot for many months, or even several years.

    As it rose, the lower levels became visible, including the fact that there were actually two separate sections of the Cloudbase, connected by a wide and well-fenced walkway. Directly below that were the launch bays, twenty altogether around the base, able to scramble over 100 needlejets a minute if necessary.

    Finally, the bottom of the city was above their heads. The majority of the bottom was the gravity counteraction devices and engines that kept the city suspended in the clouds. Attached to the bottom were over twenty-five stabilizing fins to counteract the forces of wind and keep the city upright.

    Abruptly the city stopped and just hung there, and twenty prototype needejets simultaneously flew out of the launch bays. The jets started a complex acrobatic maneuver around each other, Mount Planet, and the city itself.

    Domai too was transfixed by the show going on above the crowd, 'Well, there's no more hiding. The Hive will surely know we're here now, but we're almost ready.'

    The Hive had oppressed them all. They had rebelled and built their own faction. And now…

    It was time to fight back!
    Banned on Black Saturday in the name of those who went before him.

    Realizes that no one probably remembers that event.

    Comment


    • #32

      Present Day (M.Y. 2235)
      Morganite Supply Transport Foil PQ-37

      Hidetoshi Yodama didn't like being on the transport. He was a merchant, not a sailor. And just how were you supposed to do your job when the ground beneath your feet conspired to throw you off balance?

      The accursed fog was getting more intense. Visibility was almost reduced to zero. Any more and they would have to stop.

      Yodama noticed a dark silhouette in the fog. Land? Better tell the navigator. Don't want to run aground, not with the cargo we are carrying. He turned to go to the control room. Wait! Out of the corner of his eye, the dark outline had moved. As Yodama turned again to the outline in the fog. Definitely getting larger, he thought. Must be an escort ship come to take us home.

      The fog had masked the true size of the ship. When it emerged from the fog, it came as a huge shadow, dwarfing Yodama's transport foil.

      "Surrender your cargo!" A voice shouted from the ship. As the ship drew alongside the transport foil, Yodama could see a mass of bodies along the railings of the ship facing him, tensed and ready. He half-considered running, but dismissed the thought in an instant. Nowhere to run in this cursed fog. With a ship like that, they'd easily catch up with us and then they'd slit our throats. Rather let them slit our throats now. Take it like a man.

      The raiders rained down onto the transport foil, swarming across the deck. "Drop your weapons and you shall not be harmed." Yodama saw the source of the voice now. A girl, barely twenty, leveled her assault rifle at Yodama. He shrugged and pulled the shredder pistol from his belt and dropped it one the deck. Didn't like carrying a gun around in the first place. Don't want to admit it, but I'm glad they're not going to kill us. And what is a young girl like her doing in charge of an entire ship?

      "Get in the lifeboat, all of you." Yodama complied meekly. He was glad the raiders were going to take his cargo and not his life. It meant losing his bonus, but opportunities were aplenty for merchants nowadays.

      "They will pay good money for this cargo." The girl said to no-one in particular. She turned her attention back to Yodama and his crew, huddled together in the too-small lifeboat. "We shall take your lifeboat's fuel cells. If you are lucky, someone will get worried back home and send someone to find you. If not..." She shrugged as her words trailed off.

      She half-bowed to the men in the lifeboat, before shouting a command to her men. "Go!"

      The ship and Yodama's transport foil disappeared in the fog, leaving the lifeboat stranded in the middle of nowhere.

      *****

      Yodama squinted as he opened his eyes. He didn't know the lifeboat had such comfortable beds.

      "Glad to see you awake, Yodama." He saw Captain Sanchez, his commanding officer. What was he doing on the lifeboat? Yodama struggled to get to his feet as he realized that he was back home. Captain Sanchez waved for Yodama to remain lying on the bed as he sat down on a chair beside him.

      "Lucky we found you in time. Any longer and you'd have probably started eating crewmembers, eh?" Captain Sanchez's voice was hurting his ears, not to mention the lame joke.

      "Just so you know, this is the fourth time raiders have carried off our cargo this week. From what I hear, the other factions have been hit too." This managed to get Yodama's attention.

      "Now, Hidetoshi, do you remember these raiders to have any distinguishing symbols on their uniforms or ship? Anything at all?"

      Yodama shook his head. "No uniforms, their outfits seemed like they were made by a bad tailor in a hurry." Captain Sanchez nodded and got up to leave. Wait! I saw the flag on their ship. It's all coming back now...

      "Captain! I remember now. I caught a glimpse of their flag before they boarded us." Sanchez returned to his seat beside the bed.

      "And what did the raiders' flag look like?"

      "Not raiders, Captain, pirates."

      "Very well, pirates. What was the symbol on their flag? Not one of the other factions, I suppose."

      "No, Captain."

      "What was it then, the skull and crossbones?" A faint smile appeared around Sanchez's face.

      "No, Sir. I haven't seem this symbol in my life before. It is a gold eight-sided star, almost like a compass rose, against a blue wave."

      Comment


      • #33
        The morning wind was colder than usual. It seems that the Isle of Dexamenus quite frequently changes climates, unlike the larger continents, which are much more stable. Raptor had walked this same dirt road every morning since his scramble from University Base. He pondered his past actions much more now then before during his walks. Richmond’s death had awoken doormat fears of his strange profession. He quite frequently felt more at home while he was painting or singing in the recreation commons then when he was organizing his faction’s probe teams throughout the world.

        I trusted in Richmond that we would both make it out safe. I knew that he would not survive, yet I let him sacrifice his life for me at the mag station. I am the reason he died…. It’s because of my actions that so many people have had to suffer in the past. I blame my problems on others…. I tell myself that I was just following Sinder’s orders…. But I could have said no, if I really wanted… she would have understood…. Would she have?

        I do not really know Sinder anymore… she would have never ordered the use chemical weapons like she did with the University… should I be doing her bidding?

        There I go again, blaming others for my pathetic behavior. I have changed; perhaps I don’t belong here anymore.

        That’s odd… that looks like Tomahawk by that dune… I wonder what he is doing out here so far?

        ---------------------------------------------

        “Shoot, watch the hydrogen exchange rate…. Must I do everything.” Zebra said as he shoved his underling out of the way of the non-functional fusion prototype.

        “Sorry sir, but we must not hurry the exchange or we may lose valuable test data.” His young disciple said as she nudged her head over Zebra’s shoulder to have a look at the data.

        “If we don’t hurry the exchange, we will never meet the deadline.” Zebra felt much more comfortable and powerful around his fellow scientists rather then the unpredictable council. He enjoyed knowing everything about his surroundings and he disliked the shadowy feel of the other council members.

        “Hello Zebra, am I interrupting something.” Sinder’s picture came up on Zebra’s right eye contact, startling Zebra.

        “Yes…no…ma’am, we are just working on the fusion drive. Its very difficult to adapt the technology to work inside an aircraft, which wasn’t built for the new drive.” Zebra finished as he gained his composure back.

        “Well, are we on schedule, for this to work, we have to maintain this timetable.”

        “Yes, and I understand…. The drive will be ready on time. My people are already preparing to lay the new stealth photon armor on our transport.” Zebra hated being pressured, and the fact that his people under his command were in the same room listening to his conversation, was annoying to him.

        “Thank you Zebra, I will call back at 1500 hours to see your progress….and Zebra… thank you for all your hard work.” Zebra breathed a sigh of relief as Sinder closed the link.

        “What did I tell you about the exchange!”

        ---------------------------------------------

        “Are we on schedule?” Bronco asked to the foreman in charge of the colony modification.

        “Well…. We are on schedule, but we do have some problems.” Foreman Shang had to look up to the council member because of their height difference, but he was far from nervous. He had once been a hive worker who was able to escape the faction’s wrath during the great escape of 54.

        “There was no problem in the report you sent me a day ago.” Bronco had been up all night doing paper work and was far from being glad, that he needed to go to work without sleep.

        “The problem is in space sir, aboard the transport. We only have one airlift into the LZ, so we have to pack all the people and facilities onto the same transport. Well…we can’t fit a hab complex into the aircraft. It’s just to darn big even if it’s broken up.”

        “Your point? They can build their homes when they get there, like we did when we first arrived on this island.” Bronco was getting annoyed quickly with his subordinate.

        “Sir, you must have forgotten. No person can leave the outer perimeter of the stealth generator at the new site. They may not have the needed building supplies on hand inside the small area around the borehole cluster.”

        “I’m sure they will…. perhaps the University left their research quarters, when they left the site in a hurry.” Bronco was ticked off about being contradicted, but he was too tired to resolve the problem. He really didn’t care for the project anyway. He saw no great value in establishing a base across the world.

        Seeing that he would get nowhere with Bronco, Shang just walked away mumbling something under his breath. Bronco reciprocated with the same action.

        ---------------------------------------------

        “Good morning Sinder.” Sinder rose her head to see Raptor walking into her command room. “Do you got a minute?”

        “Sure Raptor, I hear your probe teams around University Base wiped any left over trace of our involvement in the incident. I just wanted to say great job, and I appreciate all the hard work you have done recently.”

        Raptor felt disgusted on how Sinder talked about the death of ten thousand people merely as an… incident. He knew she had changed.

        “I would like to ask you if I could go along with the transport, to the borehole cluster?”

        “Raptor…..why the move? I really need you close to me, if we are going to operate efficiently with all our assets spread so thin these days.”

        “I’m sure Beetle could cover for me until I get back, heck, he probably knows more about this faction then I do from all his work near you.”

        “You didn’t answer my question Raptor…why are you going?” Sinder stopped what she was doing and rose from her seat.

        “I need…. I need…to clear my…” Raptor was cut short by Sinder.

        “I understand Raptor, take all the time you need. I think we have all been confined to this island for much to long. No need to explain.” Raptor was tooken back by this sudden change in Sinder’s personality. He almost felt like it was old times once again.

        Time to lift off……108 hours


        Comment


        • #34
          Location: U.N. Enforcement Base (Hive Communal Nexus)

          Two seconds of quiet. The remaining Hive soldiers start to charge, believing that Manuel and his team are trying to flee. Then everybody is tossed against floor, walls and ceiling as if they were weightless. The following boom is a physical force rather than a sound. It echoes for more than twenty-five seconds, and in it's wake everybody is temporarily deafened.

          Storgard is lying in the middle of the corridor. He takes his hands from his eyes, and looks straight into the face of a Hive soldier, who returns his stare without blinking. As his hearing slowly returns he hears that someone is screaming. While his eyes take in the twisted neck of the Hive soldier he realizes that it is he himself who is screaming. He stops, and tries to stand up, unsuccessfully at first. Then he hears Manuel barking orders.

          "Report in, people!"

          The remaining soldiers give short replies. The last to do so is corporal McDougal, who is limping towards Manuel with a Hive soldier in tow.
          "Sir, looks like we have a POW on our hands." He takes a quick look at his prisoner, who looks quite relieved. Manuel notes that he is wearing only ordinary combat clothing; no armor at all. "Bring him here, Lachlan." The Hive soldier is shoved in front of Manuel, and the two regard each other for a moment; the soldier is fair-skinned, with brown hair and green eyes. Then Manuel speaks. "Right, sonny, what's your rank and number?" The man starts to nod nervously, while still smiling. "I am Koecker three-one-five, rank sergeant, and my ID is 17-03-2107-477U/315."

          Manuel stares at him for a moment, and then snarls. "Don't give me that fungal crap, you son of a 'worm! What kind of name is that!?"
          The man calling himself Koecker starts to tremble. "It-it-it's my name sir, given to me at inception by the Hive supervisor!"

          Manuel looks as if he is contemplating a breach of Lal's military code of conduct, when sergeant Storgard steps forward with a strange look on his face. "Captain, can I have a word in private?" Manuel glares at him, and nods. They step away from the rest of the group, and some whispering is heard. Then manuel looks back. "Koecker, or whatever, open your jacket and pull up your shirt!"
          Koecker's eyes bulge. "Wha- Why-"
          "DO IT!"

          Koecker fumbles open his jacket and tears at his shirt. The entire team then stares at his stomach. After a moment, several soldiers turn away. Storgard swallows heavily, and speaks. "See captain? No navel. This is the three-hundred and fifteenth version of mr. Koecker of the Hive. Thought I had killed someone with his face before, you see. That's how I came to suspect it."

          Manuel, looking grim, speaks again. "Right, sonny. sorry 'bout that. Clean yourself up. You are now under the jurisdiction of Lal's military ethics. Right as soon as we get out of here, I'll tell you all about them. For now, just stick close to me, and if we manage to surprise any more hive partols, know that a sound from you then will be your last. OK?"
          Koecker nods. "OK."

          "Good. Demolitions, let's blow up the first two intersections as soon as we have some distance from this one. Everybody; proceed!" The group continues onwards, and occasionally, one of it's members can be heard muttering to a teammate: "A clone.. poor, poor bastard.."

          The third intersection is empty. After that, the tunnel becomes a hollow helix, going up. It is now very wide, and very high, and the team isn't reassured at all by the tire- and treadmarks on the floor. Also, all artillery has ceased, which is never a good sign. Manuel pays attention to his his HUD, and learns that there are only two Peacecorps teams -including his- left in the base. All others are retreating as fast as they can, away from the Hive onslaught. It looks like this base will return to the Hive, as general Steppleton predicted.

          The fourth intersection, at the top level of the helix, is also empty. However, sounds of gunfire can be heard. Manuel signals for attention. "Allright, people. Double your distance to each other, and no radio communication from now on. If you have something to say, pass the word along. If you see the enemy, you know what to do. The rest of us should catch on pretty quickly. So spread out! Also, be extra careful once we blow this and the previous intersection; it's guaranteed to attract attention."

          The team moves a bit onward, and the demolitions-man sets his charges. He signals the team to cover their ears, and is about to activate the remote, when the corridor is flooded with light. "What the-?"
          "Hive's got power back online. We need to get out of here this minute. Hurry up, man!"
          The demo-man resumes his action, and everybody feels the caress of high-explosives in confined spaces. Everybody is still until the echoes have died away, and then Manuel stands up, his ears ringing despite heavy ear-protection. "Right, let's move on- no, wait, what's that?" A humming sound that is steadily becoming stronger. Then, around a distant corner in the tunnel -the last intersection- comes a Hive armored vehicle.

          Instinctively, the team ducks for cover behind the nearest supports. They can hear the rover approaching; seemingly it hasn't spotted the team. Then it slows.. then it stops. The cones of light from it's front are clearly visible in this dusty air, and Manuel can easily hear the humming of the engine on neutral. Then; the sound of a hatch opening. Across the corridor from Manuel, McDougal meaningfully presses his minigyro into the back of sergeant Koecker, who has apparently stopped breathing. Then they all hear a voice.

          "Command.. this is Kagaru seven-two, in vehicle five-nine.. have to report the way is blocked.. yes, engineers needed.. yes, we will hold.. affirmative. Out." A small pause. Then: "Turn it off. We'll wait here, so let's take a break." There are some metallic sounds, followed by several people stomping their legs, running in place, and generally getting rid of some stiffness. That's enough opportunity for Manuel. He signals his team for attention. Then he leaps out from cover and starts limping, as fast as he can on a splinted leg, towards the rover with his rifle on serial fire, not once easing the trigger.

          Three Hive soldiers with no weapons in sight (except for the rover, of course). One is hit immediately by Manuel, and is spattered over the front armor of the rover. The next is consumed by the mini-missiles from McDougal's minigyro. The third.. throws himself to the ground and starts to scream. Manuel sees this, and screams "unarmed! Don't shoot!" Then Storgard leaps onto the hood of the rover, and fires several rounds into the hatch. After that, a quick look inside. Then a longer look. No-one there. He quickly looks ahead, at the intersection. No-one there either. Then he jumps down from the rover and joins Manuel, who is looking at the three Hive soldiers.

          "Hey, did anyone hit this third guy?"
          McDougal grins. "Nah, he just fainted, captain."
          "Heh, well I guess we had better tie him up and gag him, then. He won't be coming with us."
          "No, please, sir, if you do that he will be executed. Please let him come with us."

          Manuel looks surprised and turns to Koecker, who spoke last. "You sure? Why?"
          Koecker looks grim. "Because he was defeated. If he isn't better than you, why should he live? The Hive has no use for clones who aren't better warriors than non-clones."
          Storgard gives a low whistle, and McDougal shakes his head sadly. Manuel just looks at the unconscious soldier. "Guess you'll have some company, then", he mumbles. "Allright; bind him, gag him and bring him along. You'll carry him; that way, your hands will be occupied." Koecker nods.

          Only one intersection to go before the surface.

          Comment


          • #35
            The Cloudbase Academy


            "Talon Four to docking control: post-flight checks complete. Preparing to disembark."

            "Roger that Talon Four. See you tomorrow. Docking control out."

            Mirthrel hopped out of his small two-man training jet with his copilot Zira right behind him, "Whoo… Dasan almost had me there, Zira! Nice trigger."

            Zira laughed, her long blond hair bouncing, "Ha ha… it was nothing! That fool flew right into my range. Just simple point and shoot really." Of course, this was just a training mission. Their chaos weaponry had been powered down and they were using their tracking system to confirm combat kills.

            Mirthrel smiled, "You never did know how to take a compliment. Come on. Let's go gloat to him before our debriefing."

            ~~ Talon Four! Are you still there? Respond Talon Four! ~~

            Zira jumped on the com, "This is Zira of Talon Four."

            "We have an unidentified needlejet en-route on a direct course for base, mark 0714. Scramble immediately and await Talon One before making your approach. Charge your weaponry Talon Four, because this is NOT a drill!"

            Upon hearing 'unidentified,' Mirthrel had already re-boarded their needlejet and began to scramble. Of course, in a scramble situation like this, it was possible that something crucial might be overlooked, but they didn't have the time to check everything.

            "Dasan as our wing-man, Zira? How ironic. OK, let's go!"

            Within a minute the two needlejets were closing on their target. Base had scanned its com personnel frequency, but they were instructed not to communicate unless asked for directly by either base or the target itself. And they were.

            "This is Iota Seven to lead unidentified needlejet. Respond needlejet."

            "This is Talon Four to Iota Seven. We read you Iota Seven." Said Mirthrel. He knew that Dasan must be seething for not being declared head for this mission, since he was the leader of Talon Group, but base had selected Mirthrel instead simply because he answered first.

            "This is Iota Seven to Talon Four. Requesting permission to land and refuel on the air platform ahead."

            "This is Cloudbase One to Iota Seven. Requesting faction identification and faction code transmission."

            "Negative Cloudbase. Transfer equipment damaged. Landing is urgently requested."

            "I can not do that Iota Seven without faction identification and code transmission."

            Iota Seven responded to that by taking a steep dive and taking some pot shots at Talon One, "Whoa! Talon Four to Base. Iota Seven has attacked Talon One! Requesting orders!"

            "Cloudbase One to Iota Seven… answer me damnit! Forget it. Cloudbase One to Talon Group. Eliminate the target."

            "Roger that Cloudbase. Let's go Talon One."

            Both needlejets dove after Iota Seven, who was still trying to attack Talon One. Talon Four got behind it and followed it through a steep climb and a left roll.

            "Ha! Just like Dasan! Watch me nail this one too Mirthrel!" Zira gleefully shouted as she acquired a target lock.

            "Be careful Zira. This is no training mission. Don't show off; just get it!"

            The weapons systems reached full power and Zira blasted away with her chaos gun. Iota Seven look a dive to the right, blasting as it went.

            "What the heck?…" Mirthrel mumbled, then realized what it was doing, "Oh my GOD! Talon One! Evasive maneuvers!

            Talon One managed to evade the fire but steered right into Iota Seven's trajectory. "Talon One to Talon Four! Ejecting!"

            Dasan and his gunner shot out with the top of Talon One moments before the two planes collided in a pyrotechnic show of shrapnel and burning debris.

            "Talon One to Talon Four and Base. Both my gunner and I are safe. We managed to scan that thing before we had to eject."

            Mirthrel smiled. A good scam would tell them both where it was based and what its com frequency was. That was worth far more then one needlejet.

            "Copy Talon One. What were the results?"

            "Negative Talon Four. We didn't get to check it, but they'll be within the shielded data core on the needlejet."

            Mirthrel was about to suggest that he land and make a search, but base had other plans, "We'll send a team for it later. Talon Four, return to base. We'll send someone to pick up the crew of Talon One later. Oh, and nice work you two!"

            Talon Four flew back to the safety of the Cloudbase.

            ***

            In one dimension I find existence, in two I find life, but in three, I find freedom.

            -- Foreman Domai,
            Cadet Induction Ceremony, Mission Year 2235
            Banned on Black Saturday in the name of those who went before him.

            Realizes that no one probably remembers that event.

            Comment


            • #36
              Location: U.N. Headquarters

              "Look at this, Johan. You can see the attacker in good detail here in the corner of this picture." I peer at the smudge my first assistant, dr. Helene Schwartz, calls 'good detail', and frown. "What do you mean 'detail'? I can't make out anything but a fuzzy black oval in the water."
              "That's you, but our image-enhancement systems purged the image into this." She points to her computer screen where the skimship is magnified and it's features sharpened. It was amazing luck that dr. Schwartz asked Lieutenant-General Zhu if he had any satellite images of the specified area, at the time of the atrocity. And there, on a photo meant to survey the University's archipelago, was this intruding object.

              She continues. "From that, we have been able to classify the vessel. It is, by it's markings at least, a Spartan Missile Skimship."
              I sigh. "So Santiago has gone mad."
              She throws up her arms, gesturing me to stop. "Whoa, I didn't say that they WERE Spartans, I said that they LOOKED like Spartans. Certainly, anyone looking at the ship would think it is Spartan, but I am not at all convinced."

              "What do you mean?"
              "Well, look at this treated image. See the wake of the skimship? It has been moving in a slight curve, whereas Santiago's ships are ordered to zig-zag across the sea, with varying intervals between course-changes. Also, we have been able to determine the facing of the ship when it launched it's missiles. Again, there was an inconsistency with known Spartan positioning for a launch."
              "Impressive. Anything else?"
              "Yes, there is much more. It's defenses, when it was attacked, were deployed with significantly different methods than what is standard for all Spartan vessels. Then, when we look at the strategic side, the inconsistencies worsen. A normal Spartan attack would have involved a multitude of units, of various types, attacking several cities simultaneously from land, sea and air; Santiago wouldn't have hit and run, she would have hit again -harder. Realizing that, we analyzed the situation psychologically. It seems that the purpose of this attack was merely to disrupt the relations between the University and the Spartans."

              I think for a while. "Right. Probably not the spartans. Do we have other suspects?"
              "Yes. We analyzed the nerve gas, as well as debris from the skimship, and were able to form an isotope-map. This we matched with Planet's local isotope-compositions, obtained by our orbital surveyor satellite, to see were the ship and the gas was manufactured. The only absolute match is on the isle of Dexamenus, but it is uninhabited. We then checked for near matches, and found two likely areas." She looks uncomfortable. "Johan, it's rather surprising..."

              ***

              Lal is alone in his office, reading professor Kropotkin's report. He finishes it, and leans back in his chair. Then he operates the comm-controls, sending out a call to the University. Soon, the image of doctor Zakharov appears in the holo-sphere. "You have news, Lal?"
              Lal massages his eyes, and answers in a tired voice. "Yes. The investigation is complete. They couldn't find one solitary responsible party; you have a choice of three. I will, of course, send you the report as we agreed." Zakharov's eyes widen. "Three suspects, you say? Who?"

              "Least likely, but still possible, are the Spartans. The other two are equally likely to be guilty. They are the Morganites and.. you, Zakharov. Morgan and You are equally probable to have fired those missiles."
              "You must be joking."
              "No. The results speak for themselves; The materials are most likely to have come from University or Morgan territories, or from very near them. Nowhere else on Planet are there even remotely matching isotope-compositions, except on the Isle of Dexamenus which isn't even claimed by any faction." Lal puts on a vaguely hopeful smile. "I hope your relations with the Spartans will improve again, now that they seem the least likely suspects."

              Zakharov frowns. "I will get back to you, when I have studied the report. As for the Spartans; I didn't trust them anyway. I won't do anything until they are totally cleared of suspicion, and I can't see that happening anytime soon. Zakharov out."

              Lal sighs, and closes the comm-channel.

              A moment later, there is a soft chime from the comm-link between him and his secretary. "Commissioner, Lieutenant-General Zhu is here to see you. He doesn't have an appointed time, but he insists it's important."
              "Let him in."
              The door is opened, and Zhu walks into the room. He stops in front of Lal's table, and gives a nod of greeting. "I have several news-items from our eyes in the sky."
              "Yes?" Lal realizes that Zhu is out of breath. He must be extremely excited to have hurried to Lal's office. He had previously walked even when his probe teams had discovered the Hive's military plans. Zhu starts to talk.

              "Commissioner, we have reasons to believe that the Hive base on the side of Mount Planet is no longer a Hive Base. It is developing by an altogether different design than what is usual for the Hive; most notable, the base is above ground. Also, surveys of food-production and oxygen-consumption versus base volume indicates a nearly ten times increase in living space per person."

              The news causes Lal's face to brighten. "This is excellent news! We must send a diplomatic envoy by sea immediately!"
              Zhu shakes his head. "That's not a good idea, but more of that later. Just recently, we detected a truly gigantic hovering structure rising from the crater of Mount Planet. It seems to be a floating airbase of some sort, and jet-trails showing classical dogfight-manoeuvers have been detected. Also, recent images confirm another base being etablished that bears the same initial design-features as the original base."

              Lal nods. "That base originally belonged to the Hive, which means that Yang will throw everything he has at it to get it back, or even obliterate it. This flying airbase would be an excellent training platform, as well as a nearly impenetrable aerial defense. They obviously intend it to fend off the Hive's early ground attacks. Hmm." Lal leans to his comm-unit, and keys in the channel to his secretary. "Adams, find Captain-General Steppleton, and tell her to come here immediately." He turns back to Zhu. "Now, why can't we send an envoy by sea?"

              Zhu takes a deep breath. "Sir, there are new ships out there. They are unaccounted for by every faction we know, and we have not detected any harbor at what was previously the Hive's Drone Mound. The ships are huge, sir. They represent a significant investment in resources for any faction. Therefore, it seems like we have yet another new, previously undiscovered faction on our hands. These have also only recently started to reveal themselves; mainly by seizing ships from other factions. Their knowledge of the seas and the seaworthiness of their ships exceed the best that the hive, or even the spartans, have produced. There is no sign of any chemical weaponry on them, though, so they are probably not responsible for the attack on University Base."

              "Allright. So we will need a fleet of ships to ensure the safe arrival of the envoy. I'll talk to General Steppleton about that when she arrives. Any more news."

              Now Zhu almost smiles. He has clearly saved the best for last. "You won't believe this, sir. We have detected habitation on the Isle of Dexamenus!" Zhu intends to continue, but loses track when he sees the look on lal's face. Zhu has never seen Lal look so surprised and amazed. Then Lal slowly shifts his eyes down to the report he is still holding. He starts to silently swear under his breath. Zhu has no idea how to react to that. He chooses to continue his report.

              "It seems they had gone to great lengths to disguise their entire base from orbital surveillance. It was only when we received the first data from our pollution-surveyor that we got suspicious; the raised concentration of oxygen, as well as some other gases, was tell-tale signs of a base. So we asked Skyfarm Two to emit a powerful radar-pulse at the island, and the ground contours clearly showed a base. However, although they clearly have a harbor, there is nothing there that could support the new fleet we observed." He falls silent, waiting for a comment from Lal. Finally, Lal looks back up at Zhu. He looks angry.

              "Why don't you read the summary of this report while we wait for General Steppleton? I think you will find it interesting."

              Several minutes later Lady Jane arrives, finding Lal and Zhu talking excitedly. Lal nods at her.
              "Good evening, Captain-General. Zhu, why don't you repeat what you have told me."
              Zhu retells his news, including the report from professor Kropotkin's forensics team. Lady Jane shakes her head. "Wow! That's some news."
              Lal nods. "Indeed. Now, I need an escort assigned to the diplomatic envoy we are sending to this new breakaway faction. What do you suggest?"
              Lady Jane thinks for a while. "I recommend two cruisers. This new fleet is concentrating on hitting targets smaller than themselves, so two cruisers should deter them, at least until they can call in reinforcements."

              Lal nods. "That's good. Anymore would also put the friendliness of the diplomatic envoy into doubt once it arrives at the destination. Now then, to the new faction itself. How do you judge their situation?"

              Again, General steppleton is silent for a moment. "That floating airbase will be a great help, but as soon as Yang manages to bring a real army into the action, they will be in serious trouble. Especially so, since the Hive is already redesigning most of their units to include anti-air capacity as a result of our successful air-campaign with needlejets and missiles. Also, once Yang realizes what is going on -and he is probably foaming about it right now- he will want a quick end of hostilities with us, so that he can concentrate all of his forces on trampling these rebellious bases. Also, that airbase is probably a big reason for him to eradicate this new faction." Lady Jane pauses for a moment. She looks troubled. "You know.. if Yang was to successfully gain control of that airbase, we would be in very serious trouble indeed..."

              Everyone is silent for a moment. Then Lal speaks. "Fine. New orders. I'm going to authorize a major investment in energy-credits to finish all current military programs ahead of schedule. Also, professor Kropotkin tells me that his research into monopole magnets is about to reach completion. When that happens, all available formers will be reassigned to upgrading our transportation network to mag-tubes. When the hurried projects are completed, you will commence construction of new military units geared for assault. You too, Zhu, are authorized to expand your number of probe teams. I want to further disintegrate Yang's defenses; maybe even have a couple of his bases subverted." Lal leans once again back into his chair. "We are no longer fighting for our sake alone." He thinks for a while. "But this other faction, on the Isle of Dexamenus, must be punished for their vile act. I will handle that personally. Thank you."

              Zhu and Steppleton leave, and Lal once again contacts the University. "Doctor, I have an update to the report."

              Comment


              • #37
                Free Drone Central


                Domai and the other leaders sat in the emergency council meeting. Domai had called this meeting over an hour ago, and finally the last members were arriving. Everyone was tense, for not one of them knew why Domai had called this assembly.

                Today's council would consist of Domai, Hain (Free Drone Central Governor), Malcolm (diplomacy and exchange head), Jeffred (construction chief), Atlasia (research team leader), Rockmore (military adviser), Newman (internal security chief), 'Venus' (DIN OP commander), and Sheldon (Cloudbase captain). Both the governor of Worker's Paradise and the governor of the new Living Standard were absent.

                At last the final chairs were filled, and Domai spoke, "There is quite a bit we have to discuss today. I'll go around the table. Give me the latest, and I'll issue orders. We'll start with you Hain, governor of Free Drone Central."

                Hain nervously began reading his datapad, "Err… well, we've finished production on our second set of chaos needlejets, Razor Group. They've been sent to the Cloudbase to receive pilots. Since our queue was empty, I chose to begin work on a recycling tanks complex for the base, if that is all right with you, sir."

                Rockmore spoke up, "Foreman! We must build up our defenses more! I urge you to work on a third plane group, or a squad of chaos shock troops!"

                All heads turned to Domai, who shrugged; "The floor is open."

                Jeffred meekly said, "I disagree. With our low support cost, another military unit would only hurt our production more. The recycling tanks would boost our production, as well as our food and energy supplies."

                Next up was Atlasia, "I second that. My department could use the extra energy from those tanks to aid the pathetic department I have now. We need more energy Foreman!"

                Domai shook his head, "Later Atlasia. The topic is construction."

                Atlasia, looking defeated, sank into her chair. 'Venus' spoke up next, "What about a Network Node? That would increase our research and let us tap into other faction's databases from home."

                Rockmore slammed his fists on the table, "Damnit! Forget the research! We need defense!"

                Newman stood, "I agree. Extra military would aid in controlling the more troublesome of the citizens. I implore you to let me impose military control on-"

                Domai silenced them all, "Military control? That goes against all we believe in! I've heard enough. Recycling Tanks it is. Next is Malcolm, diplomacy and exchange head."

                All the rest of the council murmured their opinion on Domai's decision, but Malcolm read over them, "Sir, the University has been contacted by the refugees here. They somehow knew about us here… which is disturbing. Anyway, he wishes to talk to you at your convenience."

                Newman rose again, "Sir! We can not allow other factions to learn our com frequency at this time!"

                Domai nodded, "I agree. I will use the University refugee's coms to talk to him. Malcolm, I want you to tell Roze that our cover has been compromised and we should both proceed with caution. Also, ask if she would like a treaty or even a pact to secure our friendship."

                The table froze. Atlasia was the first to find her voice, "Our security has been compromised, sir?"

                "Yes Atlasia. Although it's out of order, will you explain things to them Venus?"

                Venus nodded and rose; "It appears that since that incident at University base, satellites have been scanning most of Planet. No doubt those stolen University foils on our coast made them suspicious of this area. Plus, we are now on the surface instead of underground like all of Yang's bases. And of course, we now have the huge Cloudbase hanging overhead."

                Newman shook his head, "So, Yang could show up at any moment? And we have decided not to invest in military units?"

                Venus continued, "Yang does not possess space power. And although at the very least the Peacekeepers and University know of us, they won't tell Yang anytime soon. Remember that they wouldn't want to see the business end of that Cloudbase."

                Rockmore roared up again, "This is insane! We need to be on the offensive! What's the status of the Cloudbase?"

                Sheldon, who has been quiet all meeting, finally spoke up, "The recruits aren't ready yet. Plus… there's the matter of that incoming needlejet…"

                Everyone froze again, including Domai, who said, "Needlejet? Care to explain Sheldon?"

                Sheldon started to sweat, "I just heard about it myself." Sheldon explained the situation, carefully not mentioning the lost data core that could reveal its identity.

                Newman said, "That could have been one of Yang's! If it was, we're in big trouble here!"

                Sheldon replied, "No. Not one of Yang's."

                "Then who's was it?"

                Sheldon realized he had been caught. He finished the story.

                Domai said, "Hmm… send Talon Four to search. He has the best idea where the battle was. Give him base guidance to the area. OK people, if there's nothing else, I believe we all have something else to do. Meeting dismissed."

                The council left, with Domai as the last to leave, "So we've been spotted from space… this changes things. I must talk to Sinder before we're both crushed!"

                Shaking his head, Domai left the room.

                *end of post*

                Author note: this is what's under the add
                Newman stood, "I agree. Extra military would aid in controlling the more troublesome of the citizens. I implore you to let me impose military control on-"

                Domai silenced them all, "Military control? That goes against all we believe in! I've heard enough. Recycling Tanks it is. Next is Malcolm, diplomacy and exchange head."

                [This message has been edited by Jasonian (edited November 08, 1999).]
                Banned on Black Saturday in the name of those who went before him.

                Realizes that no one probably remembers that event.

                Comment


                • #38

                  The sleek curves of the T-4’s new stealth photon armor and its photonic emitters gave new life to the old aircraft. Sinder had chosen the aircraft, for its large cargo space and its strong structural build, which could hold the extra weight. It was an ambitious plan to use an aircraft that wasn’t designed for the mission or cargo, but it would save critical time before the Spartans found out about the Cluster.

                  Sinder walked around the large aircraft’s fuselage, trying to find Zebra. She enjoyed meeting people personally, rather than over their globals or contacts. Many times she could read people better in person which gave her an advantage in conversations.

                  “Finally…there you are…. this plane is a lot larger in person then it looks over the holos.” Zebra was standing in a mechanic’s shaft next to the right engine.

                  “Hello Sinder, both engines are almost installed. I have my best people working on the left engine, while I finish up here.”

                  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day…. and how goes the vectoring nozzles?” Sinder asked as she touched a pad attached to her wrist, causing her optical to go into day infrared, which she used to take a look inside at the various construction workers installing the colony components into the massive cargo bay.

                  “Oh….the status report must have not reached you yet…must be lag in the system. But, seeing as you here, I might as well tell you the good news.”

                  “The Morgans were nuked?” Sinder and Zebra erupted into laughter over the joke.

                  “Well….maybe tomorrow, you can never tell these days… anyway… the thrust vectoring nozzles were put in by the night crew we’ve got working here. I was even surprised that they finished so quickly without my help or supervision. With this fusion reactor, the amount of energy needed to fly and land vertically should be sufficient.”

                  “Great, this plan seems to be working out, after all. If those fusion engines you and your boys are working on, do work, then were in business.”

                  “Well… I would feel a lot better if you gave us the time to test the plane’s drive out… perhaps a few traffic pattern touch and goes would be nice.” Zebra stopped to fiddle with a loose fastener.

                  “I wish we could, but probe teams in Spartan territory are telling us that the Spartans, are organizing patrols to scout out former University sites in their territory. It seems Santiago is regretting her earlier decision to have unmolested research inside both territories. Now they are stuck finding out what the University was actually doing inside their territory.” Sinder politely excused herself and then left for her headquarters, she had a few meetings to attend to.

                  ---------------------------------------------

                  “Are all the pieces in place, Tomahawk … Lighter?”

                  “Yes, Bronco… the men are loyal to me. Only the photon garrison around her headquarters remains loyal to her. I don’t know how anyone could remain loyal to a thief though.”

                  “Good… and how goes the explosive charges, Lighter?”

                  “All explosives around the base except in the headquarters and the airfield have been set. We didn’t want to take the risk in such obvious places. Tomahawk’s artillery units can take care of those buildings. Sinder still may have a card up her sleeve. But, without the nuclear reactor’s power…. She may be out of luck.”

                  “That’s true, she is cunning…. But I suggest we still remain vigilant.”

                  ……

                  “How will we run the faction after she is gone?”

                  “We have been over this….. ten times…. First take Sinder out of the equation… then we can deal with the running of the faction. We must consolidate our power first.”

                  “What should we do about the flight to the borehole cluster. Its departure time is just after we are planning to strike.”

                  “We have no use for it…. the borehole cluster is nothing like Sinder says…… she gets so caught up in her love for science and knowledge that she forgets to deal with the demands of her people. I have personally dealt with the problem anyway… the aircraft will never reach the Cluster.”

                  “Just make sure you are ready… we will need to do it early… perhaps we can surprise them?”

                  “…. What about Raptor…. Have you talked to him Tomahawk? Can he be trusted?”

                  “I will find out tonight… I will go up to his loft.”

                  ---------------------------------------------

                  “May I come in….it’s me Tomahawk?” The annoying knock on the door forced Raptor to put aside his book.

                  Raptor despised the guy personally but he respected his commanding presence with his troops and such. Yet, he didn’t trust him one bit, as Tomahawk’s soldiers did. Perhaps that is what experience teachers you.

                  “Good evening, Larry” Raptor could sense Tomahawk’s hatred of his real name when he greeted him. It was very uncommon within the faction to call someone by his birth name. He enjoyed toying with him, trying to push his emotions to the limits though.

                  “Good evening, Paul” Tomahawk responded, although his response did not have the reaction Tomahawk was hoping for.

                  “Why are you here Larry?” Raptor could sense Tomahawk’s madness in his face growing stronger. He had learned awhile back, that if you make a man mad, he can’t plot against you as affectivity. Or perhaps that is just probe paranoia.

                  “Raptor, what do you think about Sinder lately?” Raptor was surprised with the sudden change to formal code names and also the question’s content. He hadn’t excepted Tomahawk to give in that early.

                  “I know she has ordered some strange things, but that is her way.” Raptor was partially lying, about excepting Sinder’s actions but he didn’t want to show a weakness in loyalty.

                  “I think she is out of control…. Several of us on the council feel the same… and I think its time to take matters into our own hands……. Would you be interested in helping?” Raptor had been expecting the question sometime, but he was surprised at how quickly Tomahawk came out with it. Perhaps Raptor had annoyed him so much, that he wanted to get this meeting over with.

                  “It’s not my place to overthrow…. If that’s what you’re implying…. I will not take sides… “ Raptor finally answered after a brief pause.

                  Raptor could tell Tomahawk’s nerves were building up to the boiling point. Tomahawk never really liked people who didn’t take a side or were moderate. He felt more comfortable knowing who was his enemy or friend.

                  “Forget that I even asked Raptor….. it was just a thought we were having… just please think about our question. Sinder has grown to powerful, she no longer cares about the council.”

                  Tomahawk dismissed himself shortly after. Raptor knew that Tomahawk and a few others were up to something. He also knew that he would have to take a side someday.
                  But which side was the question. Perhaps he could leave all this government mess in the new base proposed near the Borehole Cluster, but he knew that human suffering, oppression, and wrath would follow him everywhere. He could only feel safe in his hope…. for the future…

                  Time to lift off……21 hours

                  Comment


                  • #39
                    M.Y. 2235
                    Nautilus Pirates Cruiser Transport Prodigy

                    "Good morning."

                    Ensign Phelan Ward almost jumped out of his skin. He didn't expect anyone to be up so early in the morning.

                    "Morning, Sir." Phelan saluted as Commander Andersson joined him at the ship's railing.

                    Phelan always made it a point to watch Alpha Centauri Prime rise above the horizon, even when on board a ship.

                    "Beautiful, isn't it?" Andersson gestured to the horizon, where Alpha Centauri Prime was starting to rise. Phelan nodded.

                    "How is the work on the pod proceeding? Any progress at all?"

                    "No good, Commander." Phelan shook his head. "The engineers gave up trying to cut the pod from the fungus sometime last night and went to get drinks from the ship's kitchen. They stopped singing a little while after I woke up."

                    Andersson had to smile. The crew had been at work on extracting the pod from the fungus for almost a week now, making excrutiatingly slow progress through the tall growth of sea fungus in which the pod was hidden, out of sight.

                    Phelan hoped that it was one of those alien computers they talked about so much back home in Safe Haven. Since Svensgaard had announced the beginning of work on the Maritime Control Center, practically everyone had been in a frenzy to find these alien computers. The alien computer captured from the Morganite transport two months ago had enabled production crews to make progress on the Maritime Control Center that would normally have taken more than half a year to complete.

                    Apparently, the alien computers screwed up ships' sensors, making them show up as Unity pods on radars.

                    Svensgaard had offered promotions for anyone who could bring alien computers back to Safe Haven. The Nautilus Pirates society was a meritocracy. It didn't matter who one's parents or grandparents were, nor how old one was, all promotions were based on how much a person accomplished. This encouraged more than a healthy amount of individualism, people working for personal gain rather than the good of the society, sometimes to the extent of backstabbing each other.

                    Phelan had no quarrel with the system. He had been promoted to Ensign when he had managed to lead a raid which successfully captured an unarmed Gaian transport which had contained the information on the breeding and handling of Isles of the Deep. Centauri Meditation, or something like that. This had delighted Svensgaard and had resulted in in Phelan's rapid promotion. Raids in Pirates' society could be led by anyone, as long as they had enough credits. A lucky streak at the gambling tables down at the Recreation Commons in Port Svensgaard had had gotten Phelan enough to finance his own raid on the Gaian trade routes. He smiled as he remembered a surly seaman hard up for credits saying he "didn't take no squat from some pasty faced kid." He had enjoyed watching the seaman swab the decks, still cursing under his breath.

                    "Well, let's get some breakfast before everyone wakes up." Commander Andersson put an arm around Phelan's shoulder as they walked off towards the ship's kitchens.

                    *****

                    "All clear!" Came the shout from the sea fungus.

                    The crane on the deck of the Prodigy began to lift the alien computer from the sea fungus.

                    There were broad grins all around. Celebrations would be in order once they got back to port at Safe Haven.

                    "Alright men, you can come back up now!" Commander Andersson yelled to the four engineers in the small boat beneath the massive hull of the cruiser transport.

                    No answer.

                    "Hey you four! Get your lazy asses up on deck now!"

                    No answer.

                    Phelan heard the chittering first. He watched, half in fascination and half in fear as Commander Andersson, standing at the the bow of the transport, claw at his head and eyes, losing his balance and toppling off the deck.

                    It was the first time Phelan had seen a Mindworm and an Isle of the Deep. The mindworm was smaller than he had thought. He watched as mindworms flowed from the Isle, which looked like a mass of spaghetti gone mad, floating in the water over the spot where Andersson had fallen.

                    He had expected the mindworms to roll, from the accounts by the sailors down at the Naval Yard. Phelan saw the mindworms combine into a rough oval, which was the last thing he saw before he felt the psi attack.

                    i am standing in a snowy blizzard the cold is chilling me to the bone but i cant move wait someone is in my head i scream but no sound comes out wait what are you doing to my head it is tearing my head apart get out of my head get out get out getout GETOUT

                    Phelan opened his eyes. He was on his knees. Scattered around him were bodies of what had been his crewmates. All of them were bleeding from their eyes, noses, ears and mouth. The mindworm boil was still on the deck, moving and pulsing. He struggled to his feet and picked up a flame gun from what had been his friend, with mindworms swarming all over the body's head.

                    Have to. Flame bodies. Prevent larvae from growing. Don't hesistate. Friends dead. Won't feel a thing.

                    As he flamed the last body, he sank to his knees again. He couldn't stop the tears from coming out as they streamed down his face and dripped onto the deck. He looked up and saw that the mindworm boil was gone before the darkness overtook him.
                    [This message has been edited by dante^ (edited November 09, 1999).]

                    Comment


                    • #40

                      …EarthSinder….awake my playmate….there is danger…… you must run……

                      The thundering noise of artillery fire woke Sinder up from her dream. She was disoriented at first, yet she had been through wars before and quickly regained her composure. She tried to gain her balance from the shaking rooms, just enough to flip her contact lenses in, but the artillery fire was landing to close to do anything delicate. Being that she couldn’t stop shaking from the artillery, she chose to grab her global on her desk. It would be slower to communicate with, but she couldn’t be out of touch for long, until she found a place not shaking, to put her contacts in.

                      “Beetle, where the hell are you!” Sinder screamed into the global as she ran down the hallway, to the stairs. She wouldn’t trust the elevators in such a crazy time.

                      “I’m just below you Sinder…..I’ll meet you in the lobby.” Sinder could see the fighting going outside behind Beetle’s shoulder.

                      “Who the hell is firing Beetle…..let me guess…..Tomahawk!” Sinder was physically well trained and could keep running fast and still be able to talk freely.

                      “Yup….he has two Art-3bs on the southern ridge. Tomahawk seems to have all the garrison troops with him, except your personal photon garrison protecting this building…..and Sinder…. we are getting hit hard out here!” Beetles, stopped short as he heard some voice behind him and closed the link.

                      Sinder played with her global as she ran down the stairs. “Zebra, is the aircraft ready for take off? Those guys better get moving before Tomahawk’s artillery narrows in on that fat plane!” Sinder was rounding the last stairways, as she finished her sentence.

                      “The last colonists are boarding…. What do you want to do about this damn artillery?”

                      “Well I guess that rules out any theory of you having some super weapon.” The joke would have been funny at normal times, but this wasn’t normal. Sinder closed the link as she tried to regulate her breathing.

                      Sinder ripped the first floor door open, as she ran into the lobby. Standing there was Beetle and Virus who had their ears covered by their hands, trying to save their hearing from the loud blasts. The rockets were eating the headquarters for breakfast, and most of the bulkheads had already fallen down in the lobby.

                      All three acknowledged each other simply with a head nod, and rushed outside, fearing that they would be caught in here if more bulkheads fell. But, outside, was no different. It seems that Tomahawk had started his city attack. Sinder could see over the quickly erected barricade, several rovers and a couple dozen infantry moving towards them. They would need to fight for their lives, against the oncoming hordes. Sinder motioned a captain directing his troops to throw the three council members some rifles, and after receiving the impact rifles, they quickly positioned themselves along the barricade with the rest of the garrison. The artillery fire had stopped, which was never good news. Soon the tides of darkness would descend on them.

                      ---------------------------------------------

                      “Captain Regan, are we ready to get the hell out of here.” Raptor shouted to the veteran pilot inside the cockpit of the aircraft. Raptor had planned to work communications on the flight, but he quickly took control of the whole operation seeing that the artillery fire had started raining down on the airport.

                      Raptor quickly patched into Zebra’s global, through the aircraft’s communication system. Zebra had been helping the last minute loading of the aircraft and he was still on the cargo ramp waiting for the last of the colonist to arrive. Many colonists had been delayed by the artillery fire or they were just afraid to come.

                      “Zebra, the runway is getting smashed…..there going to start getting lucky one of these blasts….. is the transport loaded yet. Heck, you better find a spot for yourself, in the back also, its no use staying here with the fighting.” Zebra had only heard part of the message, as he dodged the incoming people in the narrow opening to the transport.

                      Several seconds past…… with no acknowledgement, and Raptor could see through his picture on the screen, that Zebra was checking some papers on a last minute cargo box.

                      “Zebra…..did you hear me?” Raptor screamed into the comlink hoping to attract Zebra’s attention.

                      “I heard you the first time….. I think everyone who is coming, is here…. Were ready to light this candle.” Raptor closed the link and turned to the pilot who was going over his preflight checks.

                      “Regan… lets light this candle…. Why don’t you taxi to that clearing…. We will use the VTOL system…. Lets hope Zebra did a good job.” Captain Regan and his copilot O’Brian touched their data screens, and the enormous jet started to taxi to the clearing.

                      The cockpit lit up as an artillery rocket landed several meters away from the nose, sending dozens of small fragments their way, although they bounced off the new photon armor. They new they wouldn’t get a second miss.

                      “Shoot…..Sir….we got company, I’m reading one impact rover closing in on us from behind.” The copilot said as he brought up the sensor array on the HUD.

                      “Are we ready to takeoff?” Raptor asked Regan who was busy monitoring several screens.

                      “No Sir, by the time we get to the clearing, we should have enough power to lift off, the fusion drive takes away to power up.” Regan replied as he wiped the sweat off his brow.

                      “That impact rover isn’t going to wait for us to reach that clearing….” Raptor stopped short as he turned to face his COM screen, as an incoming call was being transferred to his screen.

                      Comment


                      • #41
                        Location: Pholus Ridge, 250 Kilometers from U.N. Haven City

                        A rover is slowly climbing a serpentine road that leads up to one of the lower crests of Pholus ridge. It is painted in garish colours and provocative text. On the back window reads: "I brake for no talent. (Honk if you are a drone.)" When it reaches the top it continues onward, and soon loses sight of the plains below. Half an hour later it is heading towards a comm-relay tower that is positioned on the main ridge. Soon, it parks in front of the maintenance-bunker that rests immediately beneath the two-hundred meter high antenna complex.

                        The bunker's airlock opens, and a solitary, large figure in a light breathing mask exits. He spreads his arms wide, and laughs loudly in this thin atmosphere. He is answered by shouts, whoops and laughter from the rover. The door of the rover is kicked open, and four people burst into the open, screaming and whooping of joy. The man joins the newcomers, three men and one woman, in their celebration.

                        Eventually, everybody enters the bunker. Once past the airlocks, as the group removes their breathing gear, the large man turns to one of the newcomers. "Did you bring the chems, Michael?"
                        Michael nods and smiles. "Yeah. Twenty freaking liters of heavy-duty psych-drugs, as ordered. Whoo-hoo!"
                        "I hope check-out didn't bring any trouble?"
                        "Nah, that stupid doctor fell for your latest plea for help completely. That was some top quality faking you did, Werner"
                        Werner smiles. "That documentary on mindworms you brought last time helped a lot. It wasn't hard to modify the images so that they looked real yet didn't reveal their origin."
                        "Yeah well the results were awesome, man! Those idiots back at Haven City think you get attacked by mindworms every hour on the hour; they even asked if I could bring some flamers in addition to the fear-suppressants."
                        "You did say yes, didn't you?"
                        An evil smile spreads over Michael's face, and another round of whoops and cheers erupts from the group.

                        A while later, everybody is relaxing in the small rec-room of the bunker, and Werner distributes some medical hypo-guns. "Michael.. Ling.. Affiz.. Anthony.. Me." They are sitting in a circle around a table. On the table is a large jar containing a greyish-pink jelly, and a smaller one containing a purple powder. Michael eyes the jars. "So what's on the menu, chef?"
                        Werner smiles. "Harvested mindworm neurotransmitters, in a new mix. One part jelly, two parts fear-suppressant."
                        "And the smaller jar?"
                        "Oh, I haven't tested that. Thought I'd share the experience with you. It's dried brain cells from the main neuro-transmitter-producing center of the mindworm. The cells are very robust, and should reanimate and stay active for up to fifty hours, giving the ride of your life before your body destroys them." The group erupts in cheers again. When they settle down, Werner continues. "I don't know the ideal dosage, so feel free to experiment."

                        Smiling eagerly, Ling draws some jelly into her hypo, followed by a sprinkling of powder and the recommended two-thirds fear-suppressants. Next comes Affiz, who does the same. Anthony, laughing nervously, selects one third jelly, two-thirds suppressant, and no powder. The rest of the group needles him good-heartedly. Then it's Michael's turn. One third jelly, one third powder, one third suppressant. The group oohs and aahs appreciatively. Finally, Werner fills his hypo with one sixth jelly, and the rest suppressant. Michael turns to him, disappointed. "What, ain't you gonna join the flight, pilot Werner?" The rest of the group giggles, while Werner shakes his head. "I have to stay relatively clear. I'm expecting a message from Haven City, and I want to view it as soon as possible."

                        "Well it's your loss man", Michael grumbles and then eyes the others. "Ready? Three. Two. One. Liftoff!" Everybody fires their hypos into their jugular vein.

                        The song of Planet engulfs them all.

                        Werner sways slowly from side to side as he watches the others slide into euphoria, and unconsciousness. Then he staggers into the main room of the bunker, and sits down in front of a wall of monitors. On it, all the communications between the Peacekeepers and the Gaians are displayed as a flickering torrent of symbols. The actual messages are impossible to make out; Werner's job is to make sure everything is proceeding smoothly. And to be the first defense against unwanted intrusion into the Peacekeepers' datagrid. He shifts into a comfortable position, and is soon mesmerized by the flow of information. The rosy haze of the drug thickens, and Werner is soon also hallucinating wildly.

                        A loud beeping awakens Werner with a start. He scans the monitors in front of him; nothing wrong there. The message hasn't arrived yet. Then he turns to a smaller group of monitors that display the status of various systems throughout the bunker. One of the monitors is displaying a red-framed notice:

                        *** PROXIMITY ALERT ***

                        At first, Werner is too confused to understand the meaning of this. Then he quickly brings up views from outside on four of the systems-monitors. The images come from cameras attached at various heights and angles on the comms-antenna.

                        There is a patch of xenofungus directly outside the bunker, part of a larger field that stretches all the way to the opposite base of Pholus Ridge. Normally, no Peacekeeper installation would allow xenofungus to grow so close to it, but Werner has claimed to his superiors that everytime he destroys the patch, it grows back overnight. After all, where else would he harvest mindworms? But up until now, Werner has only encountered solitary, small-sized mindworms. Now he watches in disbelief as 'his' patch of xenofungus is swarming with activity. Then, a virtual swarm of large, fat mindworms slithers out from it's cover and starts to crawl on the bunker.

                        Werner becomes aware of a chittering in his head. He has never heard a flock of bats or sparrows, so he has nothing previous to associate the sound to. He listens in amazement. The sound has harmonics that are calming... he is compelled to just stand and listen, in a mixture of trance and bewilderment.

                        The mesmerization ends abruptly when he hears a loud crash. He shakes his head, but instead of abating, the chittering grows in power. It becomes hard to think. He rushes out from the observation room, towards the source of the crash. He arrives just in time to see Michael hurl his chair a second time at the inner door of the airlock. The chair -made from cast iron- disintegrates, while the door -made from silksteel- doesn't even scratch. Despite the amazing force with which the chair is hurled, Michael seems to be sleepwalking. His movements are sluggish, and he stumbles as he turns around to find something else to hurl. Werner just gapes as Michael walks past him. Then he sees Ling and Khalid standing beside the airlock and beating on it with their fists. It takes a large effort from Werner to suppress the chittering his mind and activate his vocal chords:

                        "Affiz, Ling, why are you beating on the airlock for Planet's sake?"
                        Affiz turns towards him, his eyes ablaze with a feverish glow. "Can't you hear them? They want us to sing with them. Please let us out so we can sing with them, Werner."
                        Behind Werner, Anthony stumbles into the room followed by Michael, carrying Anthony's chair. Werner gazes in awe as Michael hurls the chair so hard against the airlock door that the clang is painful to hear.
                        "Well why don't you just open it, for Planet's sake, instead of trying to batter it down?!"
                        Anthony laughs hysterically. "Open the door?! That's freaking midworms out there! Have you gone mad?"

                        Michael turns slowly towards Werner. Werner might be hallucinating, but he has the distinct impression that Michael's eyes are glowing with a red halo.
                        "Open the door, Werner."
                        Werner starts to shout. "No freaking way, that's a blasted swarm of bloody mindworms out there, and if you think for a second that I will open the door now you must be crazy, you son of a-"
                        With one swift movement, Michael has stepped forward and has seized the throat of Werner, lifting him up, on straight arms, until the large man's head bonks against the ceiling of the bunker.
                        "Open. The. Door. Now. Werner."
                        Anthony rushes forward, and starts beating Michael's arms. "Stop it stop it stop-" Michael responds by putting Werner down, and shoving Anthony hard into a wall. Anthony grunts and collapses. Werner rubs his aching throat.
                        "Well it's your funeral, people. I don't care anymore."

                        He staggers to the combination lock to the right of the door, and stops. He tries furiously to remember the code he has used just a short while ago, but the loud chittering of the mindworms in his head makes it nearly impossible to think. He turns to Michael, looks down at his boots, and mumbles:
                        "Michael, I can't remember the password."
                        Michael just stands there. Then Werner's gaze is pulled, as if by a magnet, up to meet Michael's stare. Those eyes.. like red tunnels.. Werner feels as if he is falling into them.

                        Then everything goes black.

                        Werner doesn't know how long he has been unconscious when he awakens. The chittering is gone. He is lying on the bare floor in front of the door, and Anthony is shaking him. He turns around, and the bluish light from the lamp in the roof announces that he is suffering from a migraine of monumental proportions. "What happened?" He whispers.
                        Anthony shakes his head. "I- I don't know. You were staring at michael for maybe two minutes, then you just collapsed while Michael calmly walked up to the door and keyed in a combination. But he must have done something wrong, because the door refused to open. Then the three of them just started shouting and babbling, and walking around in circles. It was.." Anthony stops, and shudders.

                        Werner sits up, and sees Ling, Affiz and Michael lying in a heap in the corner of the room. He crawls over to them, and checks their pulse. Anthony speaks: "They're alive, but I can't wake them up."
                        Werner stands up slowly, with a lot of grimacing and grunting. Then he walks to the airlock door. He gazes into space for a while, and then enters a code. The lock beeps, and a red light is blinking above the keypad. He lets out a big sigh of relief.
                        "Now I know why the door wouldn't open. Come and see."

                        Anthony follows him into the observation room. On one of the systems-monitors, a flashing message announces a received videomail. Werner brings it on-screen.

                        "This is communications-admin. Here is this week's list of access-codes for all doors and monitoring systems. Please memorize the keys, and delete this message afterwards. Please confirm your receiving of this message within thirty-six hours. Thank you."

                        Werner smiles. "The codes to this place change every week; the old codes are outdated automatically, and it's a week since I received the previous ones. This is the message I was waiting for."

                        Anthony slumps to the floor and starts to laugh hysterically, tears rolling down his cheeks.

                        Comment


                        • #42
                          Location: ???


                          "Status report: Sigma-A-1."

                          "Specify location."

                          "Free Drone bases."

                          "Specify information required."

                          "Defensive units."

                          "Free Drone Central: 1 AAA Silksteel garrison, 2 needlejet groups, Cloudbase Academy nearby. Worker's Paradise: 1 Silksteel garrison, 1 AAA Silksteel garrison. Living Standard: 1 AAA Silksteel garrison."

                          "Status report: Sigma-A-1. Location: Sigma Complex. Information required: Idle forces."

                          "1 Chaos shock troop squadron, 1 Chaos needlejet group, 1 Chaos needlejet group with 10% losses, 1 transport foil."

                          "Orders: Sigma-A-1: Coordinate assault with idle offensive forces at Sigma Complex on Free Drone base Living Standard."

                          "At once. Orders transferred to battle coordination members Sigma-C-42 and Sigma-C-56. Assault will begin shortly. Simulators indicate 89% success rate. Living Standard will be ours."

                          "Report to me Sigma-A-1 with battle results. Aki Zeta-5 out."

                          ***

                          Iota Seven and Talon One crash site, near Living Standard


                          "This is as far as we can get you, Talon Four. The rest of the search is up to you."

                          "Roger that base. We'll be in touch if we locate it. Talon Four out."

                          Mirthrel and Zira were near the location of their recent battleground, near the new base Living Standard. Below their jet was a mess of wreckage from Talon One and Iota Seven. The trick was giving the onboard computers enough time to sort-trough the mess and locate the prized data core from Talon One, and from Iota Seven too if it was roughly the same model. Mirthrel could do little but confirm and negate what the computer found, eliminating options and speeding the search.

                          After nearly five minutes, the computer found something that had a 62% probability of being the core. Not high odds, but the best they had found. Zira released the automated "drop-bot" to go down and find it. A nice little invention, that drop-bot, and useful too. It trained on what the computer found and let the needlejet monitor the skies for threats. Useful for getting things out of hostile territory where air attacks were frequent.

                          "Base to Talon One. We've located what appears to be a storm coming your way. Advise a personal scan."

                          "Copy that base. Scanning," said Mirthrel as Zira pinpointed the scanner.

                          Instead of a normal blob of cloud appearing on the scopes, instead 20 dots appeared. One was quite a bit larger but slower, and the others seemed to be divided into a group of ten and a group of nine.

                          Mirthrel shook his head in disbelief, "What… Talon Four to base. I suggest you take a closer look at that."

                          Mirthrel heard someone curse on the other end, "Base to Talon Four. Confirmed the identity of 19 incoming needlejets and one transport foil. Scrambling Talon and Razor Groups to aid the defense of Living Standard."

                          But Mirthrel had been expecting that order, and Zira had already both powered up the Chaos gun and sent the Alert message to Living Standard and Free Drone Central.

                          The lone needlejet screamed toward the scrambled forces in order to join them, "Did they say 19? Looks like the faction that we shot Iota Seven out of wants some revenge. You up for a nice air battle Zira?"

                          Zira looked stricken, "Nineteen jets… we can't handle that… we only have 19 ourselves. Last time it was 2:1. What if we don't make it back Mirthrel?"

                          Mirthrel replied, "What if? What if the sky falls on us. Don't even start that Zira. We're the only one that has seen any real battles. We're the veteran of this group. And we took out Iota Seven, right?"

                          "No… Danas did that."

                          "Well whatever! We didn't get shot out of the sky! We'll be fine. How about you and I take out that foil while the other guys engage the planes, eh?"

                          "No way! Are you joking? They'll need us up there! We'll be on the enemy leader, for sure."

                          Mirthrel almost laughed. They had joined their eighteen wingmen as they screamed toward Living Standard, with the Cloudbase behind them, arming its own awesome weapons.

                          "Cloudbase to unidentified forces. You are in Free Drone airspace. State faction identification and transmit faction code now."

                          "Iota One to Cloudbase. Sending requested data."

                          Mirthrel could hear the shock in base's voice at that. They had complied! Maybe there would be no fighting after all.

                          Base came on the air again, obviously shaken, "Faction information received, but we have never heard of a 'Cybernetic Consciousness' faction. Who is your leader? Where are you located?"

                          "Access to information denied. We are not negotiating. Surrender the Free Drone base you call 'Living Standard' to us or we will take it from you."

                          So they were out to fight. During the conversation, Zira had done a scan. These needlejets were based at Iota Station and Sigma Complex, and were aptly named Iota Group and Sigma Group. The base names meant nothing, but now they had some call signs for the enemy craft. 'Leave it Cyborgs to name things like that', Mirthrel thought to himself with a slight smirk. Not really funny under the circumstances.

                          Mirthrel was hastily forwarding this data to the other flight members in order to coordinate their movements while Zira sent everything she could find back to base. Base was building a database on this 'Cybernetic Consciousness' for Domai's reading pleasure later. Now was not the time for this, but they were not sure if they would return alive and wanted to secure this information.

                          "Cloudbase to Iota One. Request denied. Good bye." "Cloudbase to Talon and Razor Groups. Let's move. Open fire at your discretion."

                          The Cloudbase fired its huge Chaos guns at the now-visible Cyborg fighters, and the battle began.
                          Banned on Black Saturday in the name of those who went before him.

                          Realizes that no one probably remembers that event.

                          Comment


                          • #43
                            “You weren’t planning on leaving without me Raptor …right?” Sinder’s face lighted up the screen over Raptor’s COM equipment.

                            “But how……I heard the city was a hell hole….. how did you get out?” Raptor responded as he and the aircraft control crew breathed a collective sigh of relief.

                            “I’ll explain on board… just slow down a bit and lower the ramp, I’ll drive her right into cargo bay…. I hope Zebra gives me some room.”

                            Zebra manually lowered the back ramp to the T-4 as the impact rover tried to catch up to the taxing plane. Sinder, who had several people in the rover with her, jammed the throttle forward, and dashed into the aircraft. Raptor, ordered the pilot to take off once they reached the clearing, about thirty meters away, and he rushed down the ladder leading to the cargo bay to meet his supposed leader.

                            “What about Data DeCentral…. Tomahawk has free run…. Hell, I heard over different communiqués that the headquarters was surrounded…how did you get out?” Raptor was breathing hard, trying to take in all that had happened in such a short period.

                            “I’ll answer all your questions once were airborne …..heck… is this plane going to lift off?” Sinder said as she and her occupants got out of the rover one by one.

                            Raptor and Zebra smiled when seeing who was with her. Beetle and Virus smiled back as they took off their protective plasma vests they had adorned during the block fight. A sudden jerk and a loud noise filled the large cargo bay as both engines turned downward to vertical lift mode. Ever person in the Cargo bay, stopped what they were doing and started to look around in amazement at what was happening.

                            “It works.” Zebra said in short as they heard the captain come over the speaker, telling everyone to grab a seat. Most people resorted to strapping themselves onto the wall, because all seats had been taken out of the cargo bay, to make room for the colony equipment and the enormous cloak generator.

                            The sudden burst of speed sent several people flying who hadn’t heeded the captain’s orders, when the aircraft went back to conventional flight from its brief vertical takeoff.

                            ---------------------------------------------

                            “Ok Sinder…. what are you up too?” Raptor finally cornered Sinder between two large boxes.

                            “Well, I’m on my way to the bathroom, if you must know…. But don’t expect to watch.” Sinder jokingly responded, knowing that wasn’t the answer Raptor was looking for.

                            “I’m guessing this was the plan from the start. Hell, how far back did you start planning this chambre.” Raptor showed visible signs of amazement over Sinder’s cleverness and planning.

                            “Well, seeing that my bladder is the only one at risk now…. I guess I better tell you the story from the beginning and why I have done some of the orders, you have probably come to question by now.”

                            Raptor motioned for her to sit beside him on the large crate to his right, then she continued.

                            “Several weeks ago, my trusty friend Virus intercepted a message between Bronco and Tomahawk. It seems that they didn’t really like me telling them what to do all the time, so they decided to take matters into their own hands.” Raptor started to smile over the joyful way Sinder was telling this horrible story. “Well, I had heard from contacts in the University space observation program, that they had found some interesting sites on planet, and they would send expeditions to research them. I knew from past Earth experiences, that when stuck with a civil war, leave. To put it simple. So I sent you personally to retrieve the disk from one of our contacts in University base, which would contain the space imagery that they found on one particularly interesting site. Zebra had lied to the council, under my order, to say that the disk was mostly research oriented and that the discovery of the Borehole cluster was nothing more than an alien mine.”

                            “Your absolutely amazing Sinder… you play people like puppets.”

                            “Oh on the contrary….you haven’t heard anything yet. I had to find a way to force University scientists out of the cluster site. This led to the most difficult decision I ever had to make…. Whether to use chemicals or not. I knew the only way the University would pull out quickly, was if their was a major attack, and I felt that using chemical weapons would be the only answer. And I hope you and the others can forgive me for that order, even though I highly doubt the citizens of University Base will ever forgive me.”

                            “That is true Sinder… someone will have to pay for that order.”

                            “I know this may be mean, but I have intercepted other communications from Lal himself. Apparently he wants to take revenge for that act of defile against the UN charter, as if I ever agreed to the charter. Also, with their space imagery, and several probe team infiltration’s, the Peacekeepers know about Data DeCentral and where its located. They will take their revenge on the city, but by then, we will be starting over near the Cluster. With this cloaking technology we have adapted from the Morgans, we will be invisible from satellites, surface and visual scans.”

                            Raptor put his head down in disgust, thinking about how his once friend had become so scheming over the last few weeks. She didn’t even care for the innocent civilians in Data DeCentral, who may die from Lal’s wrath.

                            “I understand what your thinking, and I know I have abandoned some of the loyal citizens in Data DeCentral, but I know Lal will not cause harm to them. Two wrongs do not make a right, as he would say. I promise, that we will start over at the Cluster, with all its material resources, and live a more prosperous and virtuous life. I will not stop probing and scheming, to deny that to my people, would be going against the very nature of our faction. Perhaps, its time to work for the good guys this time. I here the Free Drones are going to be in a lot of trouble with its neighbors, and I think we could lone them a hand…..free of charge.”

                            Raptor didn’t fully forgive her for her past actions… but she did show signs of maturity… and that was a step in the right direction.

                            “I will need your help in the future Raptor…..but never…. Follow any orders that you think are wrong…. We must trust each other…. But never forget to think for yourself. I’m counting on you to check and advise me.”

                            ---------------------------------------------

                            “The city is ours Tomahawk.” All three former council members met in Sinder’s former room. They looked outside from her blown out window, at the city they had fought for. Its smoldering buildings symbolized their stupidity and arrogance.

                            “Call Morgan back…. He will want to know about Sinder.” Bronco ordered Lighter.

                            “He will not be happy…. I here he killed Rex because he didn’t deliver Sinder to him….and now that she is gone…. He will be mad.” Lighter replied nervously.

                            “Yes, he will be disappointed, but we will bargain the coordinates of the Borehole Cluster. We are the only one’s who know where Sinder has gone… that is our advantage….rather my advantage.” Tomahawk finished as several of his elite troops ran into the room, impact rifles razed.

                            “What are you doing Tomahawk….. are you crazy?” Bronco barked at Tomahawk.

                            “Fire” Tomahawk replied to Bronco’s question. Two men moved closer, and fired. Two thuds hit the floor almost at the same time. Tomahawk merely turned around, and walked out of the room with his personal guard.

                            “Problem solved.”

                            Comment


                            • #44

                              M.Y. 2235
                              Port Svensgaard, Recreation Commons

                              The ruddy-faced seaman across the table threw down his cards in disgust. He had lost almost all his energy credits.

                              Vincent Jones smiled. Just an hour ago the man had been bragging about his good luck to anyone who would listen. Vincent looked up at the seaman. "One more game, perhaps?"

                              The seaman shook his head, getting up to leave. Vincent narrowed his eyes. Sit down. Just one more game. You have nothing to lose.

                              "Oh, what the hell, I'll have just one more game." The seaman took out whatever remaining credits he had left. "Even though I still think you're cheating in some way or another."

                              Vincent purposely overbid his hand the next round, allowing the ruddy-faced seaman to win. He shrugged and got up to leave. The loss was little compared to what he had won tonight. Besides, he knew that the seaman would come back tomorrow night for more.

                              The cool breeze greeted him as he stepped out of the Recreation Commons. It would be a long walk back to the Hab Complex.

                              "Vincent Jones?" A slight figure appeared at the end of the deserted street. Probably a mugger who had seen the amount of credits he had won back at the Recreation Commons.

                              Go away. You have not seen me. Go back to where you came from. Vincent sent a subtle mental suggestion to the figure.

                              It was the first time he had encounted resistance. Whoever that was, she possessed powerful empathic defences. It felt like he was pushing a dagger through an inexplicably large mass of cotton wool, there was just no way through.

                              "You can try that trick on the drunks back at the Rec Commons, Jones, but not on me." He got the faint impression that she was laughing at him.

                              He sensed another person behind him. A quick glance back confirmed his suspicions. He was trapped now.

                              "What do you want from me, then? Money?" He held up his hands in an expression of helplessness. Somehow, though, he sensed that these people were not here to rob him.

                              "No, Mr. Jones. I do not want your money. I am here on the behalf of someone, someone who does not want to see you waste your empathic potential on conning poor, gullible seamen of their hard-earned credits."

                              Vincent opened his mouth to speak. She answered his unasked question. "And yes, there is something in it for you. All shall be revealed in time."

                              Vincent resigned himself to his fate. What was he supposed to say? No?

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

                              Safe Haven, Nautilus Pirate Headquarters

                              He heard the door to his room open, but he continued to stare out of the window at the sea, at the horizon where sky met sea.

                              "I see you've been feeling better since my last visit. Someone is here to see you."

                              Phelan Ward turned away from the window. Behind him stood Doctor Sullivan and another man who he had not seen before. The new man had long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and Phelan recognized the rank on his uniform as that of a Captain. But the most striking feature were the scars on the let side of his face, and upon closer inspection, Phelan saw that he had also lost the use of his left eye, which stared at him with a peculiar, fixed intensity.

                              "Phelan, Captain Ulrik Svensgaard is here to see you."

                              Captain Svensgaard? The Captain Ulrik Svensgaard? Phelan could hardly believe that the leader of his faction would visit him, an Ensign who had been wounded in a search and recover mission.

                              He tried to execute a crisp salute but his legs wobbled and he stumbled. Svensgaard reached out to steady him before returning Phelan's salute.

                              "At ease, Phelan." Svensgaard motioned for him to take a seat. Doctor Sullivan, not wanting to interrupt them, quietly let himself out of the room.

                              "Phelan, Doctor Sullivan tells me you are slightly empathic. Is that right?" Phelan nodded. He was still a little awestruck.

                              "How old are you, Phelan?" Phelan told him. "That would make you about 18 Earth years old, yes?"

                              "Y..yes, Sir."

                              "Is my eye putting you off? Don't worry, it's prosthetic, it won't hurt you." Svensgaard smiled.

                              "N..no, Sir."

                              "I'm glad you've managed to recover rapidly from your experience abroad the Prodigy. It is lucky that you are a slight empath, which was why the mindworm boil did not kill you."

                              "Yes, Sir."

                              "Cut it out with the Sir thing, will you? Just between you and me, I'm no fan of strict adherance to formal addresses and all that. The other officers don't know that, though." Svensgaard grinned at the shell-shocked expression on Phelan's face. "You have to do it in public though," he added after a while.

                              "Anyway, I came here to thank you. If it was not for your quick thinking abroad the Prodigy, we would have probably lost the transport as well as the alien computer. I know that it must have hurt to flame the bodies of your comrades, but if you had not done that, mindworms would have overrun the transport and we would probably have not found you. In one piece, that is."

                              Phelan had to smile. He had not expected Svensgaard to be talking and joking with him like this.

                              Svensgaard continued. "It would interest you to know that the alien computer you saved has allowed production crews to make great progress in the Maritime Control Center. In fact, it will be complete after technicians deal with a glitch in the navigation module."

                              A knock on the door interrupted Svensgaard. A tall man entered, saluting crisply. Phelan hurriedly got up and saluted. He knew this man. Rear-Admiral de Bilde had welcomed him to the Naval Corps when he had enlisted some time back.

                              "Captain Svensgaard, the production of our Chaos Gun prototype is almost complete. Engineers estimate that the prototype will be complete in two days."

                              "Very well, Rear-Admiral. I was just telling Lieutenant Commander Ward here about the Maritime Control Center. The finished Chaos Gun will no doubt increase our naval power greatly. Thank you for coming to tell me about it."

                              Phelan was excited at the prospect of a new weapon. The best the Nautilus Pirates had now were missile launchers, far behind that of the other factions. The introduction of Chaos Guns will bring the Pirates on par with the other... Phelan suddenly noticed the rank Svensgaard had used to address him. Lieutenant Commander! That's... a jump of two ranks! To get a jump of two ranks one had to almost capture a city single-handedly. This has to be a joke.

                              Svensgaard looked over at Phelan. "Yes, Phelan, you have been promoted to Lieutenant Commander for your great achievement in recovering the alien computer. Is there something about the promotion you are unhappy about?"

                              Phelan shook his head so vigorously he thought it would come off.

                              "Anything else, Rear-Admiral?"

                              "Yes, Captain." A broad grin appeared on Rear-Admiral de Bilde's face. "The Maritime Control Center is complete! We are all waiting for you outside."

                              Svensgaard rose. "Come, Phelan, let's go see the work that you have contributed so much to."

                              Phelan followed Svensgaard and de Bilde out of the room.

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

                              Nautilus Pirates Recon Foil Mercury
                              127 miles west of Provision Point

                              "Lieutenant Commander Templer! Sensors have picked up a needlejet on a vector heading straight for Provision Point!"

                              "Impossible. No one on Chiron knows the location of our sea bases."

                              "They do now, Sir."

                              "Don't you dare contradict me, boy. Send a message to Provision Point at once. Tell them to prepare our AAA guns. We have to assume this needlejet to be hostile."

                              "The message will be sent at once, Sir."

                              Comment


                              • #45
                                duplicate
                                [This message has been edited by dante^ (edited November 12, 1999).]

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