The Spartan Chronicles - Continued

[Velociryx]

Ron Stone need not have worried.

All over the Hive, men and women sat in darkened rooms or lay in their beds, straining to hear the crackling and sometimes faint voice of freedom.

Thousands and thousands of oppressed citizens whose hearts ached for a freedom they had never known and never been allowed to openly discuss. This was their one and only expression of that freedom. An act of quiet defiance by a people who did not know how to defy.

They listened and chatted quietly amongst themselves in the darkness, smiling tentatively, hesitantly as they listened to Silvermane, their voice of freedom in the night.

They made up stories about him. How he must surely be nine feet tall with arms of steel and enough courage for an entire regiment of men. Some people even claimed to have seen him, throwing off guards as they tried to catch him as a man’s boots sometimes throw off dust.

Another story had him single handedly dismantling a punishment sphere, and killing more than two hundred shock troopers who tried to stop him.

The stories were everywhere. Nevermind that most of them weren’t even believable, they gave hope. They inspired. They made life bearable.

Ron Stone had no idea just how big an impact he was having. It might have frightened him if he had but known how passionately and eagerly his listeners were about him.

Or how many loyal listeners he really had.

Of course, loyal listeners weren’t the only type he had.

Sheng-Ji Yang smiled a cold, deadly smile as he heard Silvermane’s voice crackling over the airwaves.

The nerve of this man. The gall. That he would try to stir his loyal subjects up into thinking seditious thoughts.

Yang drew in a deep breath to steady himself.

Peace.

Calm.

He had to find the center again.

A thing that was getting progressively harder to do these days.

He drew in another deep breath and held it for a lingering moment, then exhaled slowly, feeling the tension flowing from him.

Quietly, he pressed the comm button next to him.

“Get me Commander Liu.” He instructed in a clipped tone.

In a moment, Commander Liu’s face appeared before him, apprehensive, as might be expected of any man whom the Chairman called personally so late at night.

“How may I serve you, Master?” Liu asked in a shaky voice.

“Have you unraveled the secrets of the Hunter-Seeker Algorithm yet?”

“It is a very complex system, Master Chairman…..it may take some time to fully….”

“Do you know enough about it to use it for tracking purposes?”

“I don’t….yes, I believe we could do that at this stage.”

Yang nodded. “Have you heard of one called ‘Silvermane.’

Lui nearly wept, the wave of fear was so powerful. How had he known? What would he do? “Yes Master….I….I know of him.” The Commander stammered weakly.

Yang did not seem to notice, which was uncharacteristic. “I want you to track his signal to its source. Find this man for me.”

Liu knew better than to defy the leader of the Hive, and he felt more than a twinge of regret, even as the relief flooded over him.

He would find Silvermane for his master and prove he was a loyal citizen.

He would do his very best.

He saluted curtly. “I shall begin at once, Master!”

Yang smiled thinly. “Report to me when you have him.”

He ended the transmission.

&&&

“…..don’t know how many of you believe the reports, but I’m here to tell you, the Morganites are not our enemies, any more than the Gaians were all those years ago. You break your back for the Hive, toiling endlessly, and your Master takes your sons and daughters from you and sends them off to fight and die to suit his own twisted purposes….”

Silvermane sighed heavily. “It has to stop….one day, we will make it stop….but for now…..for now we have each other….here in the darkness, one voice reaching out to the many…..one flame, lighting the way…..I am honored to be here with you….to be that flame of freedom and passion for you…..be safe, be brave, be well….and goodnight.”

He clicked the transmitter off and bowed his head.

The show always took so much out of him.

&&&

“I have a report, my Master.” Liu told him apprehensively.

“Proceed.”

“The transmission ended before we could get an exact fix, but we have isolated it to a single base.”

Yang nodded and waited for the man to proceed.

“The signal’s point of origin is the Great Clustering. We can resume our tracking the moment the signal starts up again.”

“Then we will have him by tomorrow night.”

Liu nodded. “We will, my master.”

Again, he ended the transmission.

At least that was one problem he could solve quickly and easily.

He punched in another series of numbers and waited. One of the few men he actually had the patience to wait for, actually.

But there were rumblings from that camp as well. Rumors of subversion and independence that did not sit well with him.

And these were delicate times.

Loyalty was called for.

A test, then.

The face of Harrand Ashaandi appeared on Yang’s viewscreen. “Yes Master?” He bowed deeply. “How may I be of service?”

Yang could not help but smile. The man was utterly inscrutable. If he was plotting something, he kept it well-hid indeed.

“It has been too long, Brother Ashaandi.” Yang said good naturedly.

“It has indeed.” Ashaandi favored him with a smile. “Perhaps you would enjoy another of our chess matches soon?”

“I would….and perhaps soon enough, times will be happier.”

Ashaandi nodded in understanding.

“To that end…..” Yang began.

“My Master has need of me?”

“Yes….by tomorrow night, I will have located the one called ‘Silvermane.’”

Ashaandi froze. He knew the name well, but more than that, he knew the voice.

“Silvermane, Master?”

“Surely you have heard of him…..he has a subversive radio show here…I have loosed the Hunter-Seekers on him from Morgan Pharmaceuticals, and they are very close to catching him.”

Ashaandi shook his head. “My targets tend to be heads of state. I know nothing of this rebellious Silvermane.”

“No matter. By tomorrow night, we will have him, and I will require your services here….it should not take long.”

“Master.” Ashaandi began carefully. “Surely this man is not of such importance to you that you must call me away from my….”

“I require my best, most loyal assassin for the handling of this matter, and unless you know of another who is more loyal, the honor and duty is yours alone.”

Inside, the assassin seethed and raged, but he was outwardly calm. “It shall be as you say, my Master. You need but inform me when you have brought him to heel, and I shall destroy him for you.”

Yang smiled. “Excellent….I knew I could rely on you.”

The screen went dark.

&&&

No sooner had Yang ended the transmission than Ashaandi punched in Ron Stone’s number.

He waited impatiently for the man to answer.

“H….h’lo….somebody better be dead or close to it…..what…..time is it?”

“Mister Stone, it is you who will be dead by tomorrow night if you proceed with your next broadcast as Silvermane.” Ashaandi told him simply.

Ron was nonplussed, and blinked into the camera. “Harrand? What the hell? And what are you talking about?”

“Your acting skills rival my own, but do not waste your time….I have been ordered to destroy the one called Silvermane when he is found….and he will be found.”

Ron seemed to wake up slightly. “Silvermane…..yes, I’ve heard that name.” He said, warming to the game now. “Well, Commander, from what I hear, he has been doing his radio show for years and hasn’t been found so far, so what’s the sudden danger?”

“When the Chairman took control of the Morgan Base, he also took control of an advanced computer system which is running a Hunter-Seeker program more advanced than anything we have ever seen. It will trace your signal to it’s point of origin, and when it does, I will be ordered home to kill you…..” He sighed heavily. “Mister Stone….I ask you….if not for your own sake then for the children’s….do not go back on the air tomorrow night, or ever again….do not force my hand….you will lose.”

Ron met his gaze with steady eyes. Unblinking. Unafraid. “You do whatever you have to do, Harrand…..and so will I.”

“You’re a fool, Mister Stone.”

Ron nodded. “Maybe…..” He smiled faintly. “Maybe I am…..but I will not cower before you, or Yang, or anybody else for that matter. You know where to find me.…do what you must.”

He ended the transmission, leaving Ashaandi staring at the darkened screen, a strange mixture of fury and regret tearing through him.

He went to the window and stared out into the night.

There was no choice, really. In order to secure his own position, his path was clear. Ron was a sacrifice, and one he would have to make.

He nodded to himself in the fashion of Burge, his resolve strengthening with each passing second.

[korn469]

Sparta Command Aerospace Center
07:42 hours SMT

The 469th Command Staff was finishing a small meal of dried cranberries and the tasteless nutrient substitute legumes. The cranberries were a real treat; they were real cranberries and not hybrid plants, grown by a few farms along the western coastland. They used a symbiotic bacteria that really made the plant flourish here on Chiron. Cranberries were still hard to come by, but Colonel Thomilson had a cousin who owned one of the cranberry farms, and kept the 469th with a small but steady supply of dried cranberries.

The cranberries were full of flavor; they had a tart sweetness that just exploded on your tongue. The nutrient substitute legumes, on the other hand, were completely bland and tasteless. Three 150 gram packages a day provided all the calories, protein, and vitamins a soldier needed. The nutrient replacement legumes, commonly know as xenobeans, were a genetically engineered hybrid plant that met SF-PNIMilspec 105 (Spartan Federation Personnel Nutrition Item Military Specification 105). That protocol required xenobeans to provide complete nutrition, require no special packaging or handling, require no preparation, be able to survive in most climates, and be low cost. What it added up to was any commander who let his men survive on xenobeans alone, soon had troops complaining about eating "those damned worm turds!"

The drop had been a complete success, and now Sparta Command's was under lockdown, with nothing getting in or out. The original garrison had surrendered without fight, and were now under house arrest in their barracks. All public commlinks were down, and only essential governmental employees were allowed to go to work. All others were told to remain in their quarters until further notice. Troops patrolled the streets, and there was a tense feeling running through Sparta Command.

Lockhart had heard rumors about Santiago being an impersonator for a while now, anyone with high-ranking friends at Sparta Command had heard the rumors, but he hadn't believed until a few hours ago. Burge's video didn't completely convince him, but reports from the squad that arrest this Alexis person confirmed that she definitely wasn't Colonel Santiago, disturbed him. What did Governor Allardyce have to gain he wondered. Not that much, he was already one of, if not the most, influential politicians in the Spartan Federation. He was from all accounts a close personal friend of Colonel Santiago, a friend and rumored lover of Deirda, and just an all around powerful individual. Was he just that greedy?

Right now Foxhound and Mongoose were holding the Fox and the Snake in the Spartan Federation Capital building. The Capital was where the Junta would have official meetings, and it was where the Spartan Federation representatives had met before the Junta suspended the constitution. Foxhound had used a concussion grenade on Governor Allardyce when they arrested him, he would have to discipline them for that, but Lockhart thought it was funny, and he would make sure they got off light.

They were waiting on Burge. He said he had some pressing matters to attend to before they left to interrogate the accused traitors. Burge didn't know it yet but they were going to interrogate Allardyce in front of all the Junta members who presently happened to be in Sparta Command. Allardyce might have been planning to launch a coup, but if things weren't handled properly, Burge would have succeeded in carrying out a coup.
[This message has been edited by korn469 (edited October 18, 1999).]

[korn469]

Morgan Metagenics
Central Terminal Morgan Airlines
09:08 MFT

Morgan Metagenics never slept, and the debauchery never stopped. Since Yang had conquered Morgan Pharmaceuticals, the people had been partying twice as hard. Unless the Spartan Federation intervened, Morgan had little hope alone against Yang. So Morgan Metagenics was throwing one last bash. Its happy hour until Yang gets here was the joke on the streets. Last night when Morgan appeared and announced normalization of relations with the Gaians, the city lit up like New Years Eve, and a huge pyrotechnic display started at midnight local time and ran on for three hours.

The city manager of Morgan Metagenics had declared today a citywide holiday, and had closed the roads so a huge citywide block party could take place. It had taken Kali an extra three hours to walk to the central Morgan Airlines terminal.

Besides the block parties enticing people to stay, airline tickets out of Morgan Metagenics had increased twentyfold. It was a perfect example of how Nwabudike Morgan had taken advantage of opportunities over the years to amass his enormous fortune.

Kali was wearing Morgan Razerwire sunglasses and felt nauseous. She had tried something called electric wire last night, and it was having a bad reaction today. Arms wrapped around her and lips tickled her earlobe.

"Hey baby." She forced her way out of his arms and spun around, suddenly angry. Before her was Michael David Joleard, smiling at her mischievously. He was also a part of URF, and he excelled at annoying people to the point of torment. His specialty was crashing systems. "Looks like somebody had a rough night." He started laughing...she was in no mood to put up with him.

"What are you laughing at? And please tell me you have the tickets." she felt like she could pass out. Hopefully the flight was soon.

"Well I was laughing at the fact that you tried that stuff that makes your blood glow...cuz your jugular is glowing some." He stuck out a finger and tried to rub her neck but she jerked away. "Ahhh, does poor lil' Kali feel bad? Want me to kiss it and make it all better?" he was talking in an obnoxious baby voice. "Oh lookie at Kali's sad face, I think she's going to cry. Pooor lil' baby Kali is going to cry cuz she took some bad bad druggie poohs last night. Don't cry poor lil' Kali pooh." She had enough; she turned around and started walking to the docking entrance.

"Hey, wait up, I was only joking" he ran and caught up to her, matching her stride for stride. He handed her the ticket and a passport. He started to talk when she stopped and cut him off.

"Listen, I don't want any of your crap, can we just keep this professional? I mean for once can't you act like your over eighty years old? I mean really!" She was disgusted with him. It took her by surprise when in one quick motion he grabbed her shoulder hitting a pressure point that made her wince. He put his face right up to her and stared her down with his vacant green eyes.

"Yes we can keep this professional if you want it that way." Somehow, she had forgotten that before the University fell, that he was in the UoP Intelligence service and was basically a trained killer with computer skills. For a moment, she wondered if he would kill her right her, just because he could. She was about to scream when he let go of her and a smile broke out on his face. "There now, I'm all nice and professional. Are you happy now?" He looked genuinely happy. Looking at him now, his expression and demeanor were so different that he almost looked like a different person.

She nodded and he put his arm under hers, and they continued walking toward the ticket counter. He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"They haven't evacuated University Base at all. We had nine rocks left, but we only have one pin. Should we hit University Base?" He kissed her ear. She only smiled, and then shook her head, and let out a playful "no". It was a convincing act she thought.

"I see well we'll talk more about it later." She kept on smiling and they held hands, but on the inside, she wanted away from him. Breaking into networks was one thing, attacking cities with weapons of mass destruction was quite another. She liked to work alone, and especially not with people like Joleard. She felt very lonely at that moment, and hated that she was abandoning her friends here...but she had too.

The holographic attendant instructed them on how to swipe their ticket and then proceed through security. As they boarded the transport heading for Fort Superiority she looked back on her adopted home of Morgan Metagenics and hoped it would look the same when she got back.

[Googlie]

Anastasia arrived at Googlie’s apartment shortly after six to assume her maid’s role in advance of Burge and Santiago arriving.

She saw the two guards at the street level door to the complex, and assuming that she was late, or that Burge/Ashaandi were early, waved her pass at them and hurried through.

At the floor where Googlie’s apartment was, there were two more guards, by the door. She approached one and said :

“I’m the maid, reporting for duty.”

“Miss, you can’t go in there,” the guard answered. “This unit is under sequestration.”

“I don’t understand. Why can’t I go in?”

“Miss, he’s been arrested.”

“Whatever for, and by whose orders?”

“Field Marshall Burge. For plotting against the State.”

“Hrrmmphh,” snorted Anastasia, turning on her heel.

She went back down to the street.

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

Across the street, in a tiny bar, Anastasia sat and pondered.

Facts:

 Ashaandi had assassinated Burge (idirectly) and was assuming his persona;

 Burge himself, before he died, had said “trust him”, and Googlie had done just that;

 Colonel Santiago had said “trust Sand”;

 Googlie had entered into an agreement with Ashaandi concerning the terms under which Sparta would support his ambitions to rule the Hive;

 Ashaandi was embarking on a dangerous game of his own and was now effectively in control of Sparta command;

 Corazon Santiago had emerged from wherever she had been cloistered for the past month and a half and was imminently going to walk right into Ashaandi’s guards at Googlie’s apartment.

She looked at her timepiece. It was nearing six thirty. The Colonel would be arriving soon. She would need to head her off. The plan developed in her mind.

She leaned over to the bartender:

“This place is insured, eh?”

He nodded.

“Then close now, go home to your family. Don’t ask. Just do it.”

She stood up and walked out.

In the street, she flicked her commlink to a secure channel.

“Proctor. Stazy here. I need action in 20 minutes at Armory Lane. Potters Bar. Have you assets?”

“Stazy, hi. It’s a stretch. I can do it, though. Casualties?”

“Owner’s gone, I tipped him off. Loud and flashy. Diversion only.”

“Roger. Who’s the target?”

“The Colonel.”

She knew that would get Proctor’s attention.

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

She moved to the intersection with Airport Road. Armory lane was a dead end so the Colonel would have to come this way.

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was 6.55, and she wondered where proctor was. If he wsn’t able to get there in time – and she hadn’t seen anyone enter the lane except a change of guard – then her plan would come to naught.

Suddenly there was a tremendous explosion, with a small fireball of flame that looked like a celebratory fireworks display had gone sour.

The guards came running from the apartment building across the street to take charge as people spilled out of the buildings.

One or two were turning in to the lane out of curiosity, and Anastasia scanned them avidly.

Then she noticed her.

A young woman, scarcely more than a teenage girl, standing irresolutely at the corner, looking up the lane.

It had to be her. But so young.

Anastasia approached her.

“Corazon?” she asked.

The girl turned. Not quite so young looking, late twenties maybe, but with a look and haughteur that commanded attention. And those eyes. Lived in eyes. Eyes that had witnessed so much. And a body now coiled for action, cat-like.

“You are?” she asked Anastasia.

“Aide to Googlie. You’re due to meet with him at seven.. he’s been arrested.”

Santiago took Anastasia by the arm. “Not here,” she said. “Let’s find a quiet spot.”

They walked down the street to Le Souffle, another of Googlie’s old favorites.

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

“Well, well. Now that is interesting,” was the Colonel’s comments after Anastasia had relayed the story to bring her up to date.

So Burge is really Ashaandi, and now effectively runs Sparta Command. Whe did you busrt the vidcom link to when you taped his conversation?”

“Oh, his usual circle. Slats Miller, Salvador St. James, Eugene Levavassier and Tricia Macmillan. No one has lifted a finger, so either Ashaandi has gotten to them, as well, or they truly believe that Allardyce was on some mission of his own. And the 469th are occupying the base right now. There’s no-one loyal left.”

“Oh, there might be,” said Santiago. “There just might be. Is there a curfew on?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Anastasia. “Why”

“Let’s pay a visit.”

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

Julia was sitting playing 3D holochess with Stephen when the orderly came I to the messhall.

“Visitors for you,” he said.

She went to the reception area to see two young women there.

“Hi,” she said to them “How can I help you?”

The older of the two, a dark haired young woman with just a hint of an aqualine nose, and looking vaguely familiar, said:

“Well, you wouldn’t necessarily recognize me as younger than you, but I need the help of you and your mother desperately. Julia Skye if I am not mistaken?”

Julia stared at her dumfounded.

“Corazon? Aunt Corrie?”

“The very same. Now assemble your pilots and crews, and let’s talk. You’ll need to talk to your mother as well. But let’s strategize first.”

They went into the messhall, and Julia got Stephen to round up the Gaian contingent.

They strategized.

[Googlie]

Sparta Command

The two Penetrators followed by the two Interceptors taxied to the end of the runway, wheeled round and rolled immediately into their takeoff run, in perfect formation, two abreast.

SAC control come over the commlink.

“Gaian Penetrators , identify yourself and your mission, over.”

“Wing Commander Santiago leading our training and familiarization flight with our new fusion engines. Sorry for the urgency in not getting clearance from you – confirm with Slats Miller, over.”

The four jets took off into the late evening sky, heading west into the sunset.

Anastasia looked down at the shrinking base, saddened to be leaving Googlie in Ashaandi’s clutches. But she had work to do.


Morgan Industries, later that evening

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

Tape 13/11.41.4© MorganLink 3DVision

“Good Evening

“This is Paula Forbes bringing you the late night news, courtesy of Morgan Chemical Cporporation. For your every chemical need visit your local retailer to get the best deal at the right price.

“In late breaking news there has been a coup d’etat in The Spartan Federation. Field Marshall Burge, with troops of the 469th Division, has seized control of Sparta Command. Arrested are Federation Governor Scott Allardyce and the renowned Chameleon Actress, Alexis Shtelnikov, who has been impersonating Colonel Corazon Santiago who has been undergoing rejuvenation for the past month at Bank as a guest of CEO Morgan.

“Colonel Santiago returned earlier today to Sparta Command, just to learn of this coup and even now is in transit to Industries to a safe haven with CEO Morgan. She is accompanied by the flight of Gaian aircraft who were seconded to the coalition, commanded by her niece, Julia Santiago, who are removing themselves from Spartan territory on the heels of the Burge coup.

“It is not known at this stage how many of the Junta support Burge, and especially what position the Spartan Air Command and the Spartan Navy are taking. We do know, however, that the four Gaian aircraft were allowed to leave Spartan territory unmolested. They will be landing here at Industries something during the night.

“Tune in to tomorrow’s breakfast news for an update on this crisis in Sparta.

“This is Paula Forbes, saying goodnight.”

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

CEO Morgan turned to Shannon Lindly and said:

“I would have done it anyway, without coercion, and I trust you will so advise Lady Deirdre. The Colonel and I, while never friends, are able to reach an understanding on most matters. It was our privilege to provide her with the very best in rejuvenation treatment at our executive facilities at Morgan Bank.

“But this does complicate matters somewhat, with a coup over the way and possibly a government in exile here.”

Lindly answered:

“Well you know that you have the full support of the Stepdaughters of Gaia, especially after your agreement with Lady Deirdre. She has long been a personal friend of the Colonel’s and will be extremely appreciative of your providing sanctuary in this manner.”


Velvetgrass Point

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

Lady Deirdre Skye dialed the commlink for Field Marshall Burge.

The familiar face looked out, but the recorded message said:

“Field Marshall Burge is currently unavailable. Please record your message now. Holorecording is enabled.”

“Gavin, Deirdre here. I don’t know what game you are playing, but we, your Pactsisters, demand the immediate release of Scott Allardyce and Alexis Shtelnikov. Whether he is returned to any position within the Spartan Junta is obviously for you and the Junta to decide, but you are under notice that if Allardyce is not freed from arrest by dawn tomorrow I will declare this pact null and void.

“Deirdre out.

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

She then dialed CEO Morgan.

“CEO Morgan, I know it’s late. Sorry to wake you”

“Why my dear Lady Skye. We leaders never sleep, is that not so? What can I do for you?”

“I have just left this message for Burge.”

She appended the holo recording.

“Phew, that’s heavy, my dear Lady Skye.”

“Nwabudike, please call me Deirdre. You are my pact brother now, after all.”

“Of course, Deirdre. This is unsettling news. What would you like me to do?”

“Put your weight behind it too. Make a similar threat to Burge. I have been in contact, as you know, with Shannon Lindly. Our combined forces will hold off any Hive attacks on our bases without Spartan help, if need be. But they are playing a deeper game.”

“What do you mean, a deeper game?”

“I was contacted by Anastasia, the personal aide to Allardyce. Burge is not who you think he is. He is Haraand Ashaandi, himself a chameleon actor. He has had Burge assassinated, and is using his persona to command the Spartan forces. His stated intent to Allardyce was that he wished to overthrow Chairman Yang and put himself in control there.

“With the weakening of the Hive faction due to the defection of four bases, that empire is getting littler by the day. It seems to me that he is intent on consolidating Sparta and the Hive under his control. In short, he is a bigger threat then Yang himself.”

“Lady Dierdre, is this information substantiated?”

“Ask Corrie when she lands with Julia. Or Anastasia. She has the complete holo of Googlie’s meeting with Burge, or rather, Ashaandi.


Morgan Industries, still later

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

CEO Morgan commlinked Burge.

The recording still played:

“Field Marshall Burge is currently unavailable. Please record your message now. Holorecording is enabled.”

“Field Marshall Burge. Nwabudike Morgan here, in case the face is unfamiliar to you.

“With me shortly will be Colonel Santiago, the legitimate head of the Spartan Junta. It is her wish that she be joined here by the Spartan Ambassador to Gaia, Scott Allardyce, her last appointment before entering our rejuvenation tanks. We too would wish to see him freed.

“In this regard, if he is not released by dawn tomorrow, your time, we will sue for peace with our erstwhile pact brother, Chairman Yang, and renounce our recent pact with the Spartan Federation so long as you are its illegal leader. We recognize the legitimacy of Colonel Corazon Santiago, who has sought sanctuary with us.”

He snapped the commlink shut.

He needed to call his war Cabinet, and invite Shannon Lindly to join.

[Hydro]

Pointa Sur

Captain Sarah Dawson stood at the flat expanse of plasteel that passed for an aerospace center at Pointa Sur. The city was quiet. Deathly quiet. All of its surviving inhabitants had fled to the outlying communities that supported Pointa Sur, leaving its infrastructure intact. It was simply devoid of people: a ghost city - a necropolis. A city of the dead.

Ever since Sarah had learned to 'feel' the objects from the UoP terrorist she had been accumulating the memories of this place like static electricity - and the sensitivity was quickly setting her on edge. Even worse, it seemed to be growing. Tears of frustration streaked down her face. He defenses were failing. The voices were winning!

Merlin? Miles? Are you there?

Of course Sarah! How could I be anywhere else? I am in your head, after all!

Sarah, this is Miles. Hey! What's going on! Your brain is buzzing like a thousand muted bees!

I, I can't shut it off! The voices and feelings won't stop! I don't know what to do! My sh..shield doesn't work!

Hmmmm… Sarah, your empathy seems to be growing geometrically. I was right about you, you know. I don't know what triggered this - some sort of empathic catalyst. You have to get to a neutral area so you break contact - someplace with no human activity. Miles?

Something similar happened to me the first time I forcefully Projected to my Hive empath contact Kurt - the time I punished him. Actually, I almost killed him. When I was done it felt like the entire world was threatening to get into my head, from every direction at once. I just pulled back and gradually the sensations diminished. Have you tried that?

YES! I've tried EVERYTHING! They just won't stop! Please make them stop!

Sarah, as your Personality, you can dump them into me. That will stop the voices.

Can you stop them, Merlin?

No, Sarah. I don't think so

Then it would kill you. I can't do that!

Sarah. Listen closely. You need to get away from Pointa Sur. Now. Their residual emotions are overwhelming you. You need to find a way to control them. What is the nearest area where humans haven't been?

Ah. It isn't too large, but there are farms and forests nearby. Who is that?

Is there any fungus nearby? Sarah? Sarah, are you listening?

Ah….. What? No I am not your mother! Merlin? Fungus?

Sarah! This is Miles! Run to the fungus! NOW!

Run! But I don't want to go to Ft. Superiority, Mommy! What? Run?

Sarah stood still. Her head turned violently to the right and her eyes widened as she saw something.

Something that wasn't there.

SARAH! RUN TO THE FUNGUS!

Sarah started and looked up at the sky. Then with glazed eyes she trotted unsteadily east away from the dead city. As if in a trance, she made her way toward the fungus many kilometers away. Slowly her pace quickened.

Tears streamed down her face.

The voices and memories flooded her with every step.

*****

Sarah crawled over the rocky fence a farmer had placed to keep back the slowly and inexorably growing fungus. Of course, it didn't work and the fungus simply grew through and on top of the rocky barrier.

Her military uniform was now dirty, and her short blond short hair was partially plastered to her head from her flight from Pointa Sur. Dried streaks of dust caked her cheeks from her tears. Her hands were soiled and scratched from scrabbling over hillocks and ditches. As she approached the edge of the farm field the voices had let up a little and her panic had eased.

But, not eased. More like replaced. New voices, kind voices, seeped into her mind. Her touch empathy was growing, growing still. She could feel it.

Sarah looked up at the looming fungus. Over the small boulders the patches were small, like tufts of cotton candy, and grew up through the space in between he rocks. Further in the fungus became waist high, then well over 2 meters high. Beyond this it was hard to tell if it simply got bigger or if it was a covered hill, since the fungus growths were so inter grown it was hard to see the ground.

Walking in, she stopped and crouched, and caressed the nearest frond, which stood almost a meter tall and was 10 centimeters in diameter. Its head flared, revealing a number of small indentations. Running her fingers down the stalk, she felt the fungus. It was smooth and slightly yielding, with faint ridges along its side. It wasn't completely pink, either. Close up it was a montage of mainly red, pink, and white with grey. Some areas tended toward purple or black, and some even to blue. At its base was a low, bulbous mound with protruding whispy tendrils. The tendrils quivered at the approach of her hand. Tentatively, she touched the tendrils, and the tendrils touched her. They accepted each other's touch.

Sarah straightened. She stood at the foot of the fungal mass and looked once more into the depth of the fungus.

A smile crept over her face. The hurtful, sad, insistent, belligerent, happy, confused, dreary, angry voices and memories were gone. Peace! The Touch had cured her of them!

A fungal frond near her started to vibrate and hum ever so slightly. As if in a dream, Sarah reached out to touch the delicately shimmering frond. At her touch, the vibration diminished slightly, but she recognized it.

It was her empathic trance hum.

The hum increased, and Sarah looked around her. Now all the fungus within her sight was vibrating sympathetically and the hum increased.

Sarah's vision wavered, but her perception expanded. She could 'see' herself, and the finger of fungus she stood in. The fungus seemed to shimmer with life and energy, as did her form within the fungus. In contrast, the nearby farm field looked dead and brown.

Visions and voices, not articulated but understood, caressed Sarah's mind: many voices, deep with understanding and acceptance, with questions and queries. They were many voices, yet one voice.

Sarah closed her eyes and a slow, beatific smile spread across her face. She raised her arms above the fungus near her.

This was home! Belonging!

The fungus grew, reaching out to enfold Sarah, tendrils and stalks touching and folding.

And the fungus sang!

[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited October 20, 1999).]

[Hydro]

Sparta Command

Field Marshal Hui Wang of 2nd Armor stood looking out of his large Command Center office window that overlooked his city of Sparta Command. Night was falling, and no one was on the streets - curfew was now rigidly emplaced with no exceptions.

Not even for Field Marshals - especially not for Field Marshals.

Earlier today soldiers lead by a stiff lieutenant from the 469th had come and 'suggested' that his staff return home for the duration of the emergency. They had also 'suggested' that the honored Field Marshal return home, and had offered an 'escort'.

Wang declined, citing the upcoming hostilities of 2nd Armor Lightning Strike against the Hive. Very reluctantly, the suspicious lieutenant left. He did, however, did his staff.

That was disconcerting. He was alone.

Wang turned from the window and paced to his desk and sat down. He cupped his aged hands in his lap.

Unless something drastically changed, Burge will succeed in pulling off his coup. Any trial of Allardyce is likely be a drumhead, with the outcome pre-ordained by the accusing officer Burge.

Broiling, uncomfortable thoughts coursed through Wang's mind.

Has Sparta slipped so far? Never in the long and sometimes dark history of Sparta have its leaders been reduced to such infighting, and such obvious plays for power. The Burge I have known for 60 years would never do this thing. He is an honorable and courageous man. I know Allardyce, too. He is political, but not a dictator. Neither is Burge.

It does not make sense!

Still, Burge needs the appearance of legitimacy. Some members of his military must at least tacitly approve his trial of Allardyce. He has Miller, St. James, Levavassier, Macmillan, but they are known supporters of Allardyce. That leaves very few potential supporters. Namely me. And Lockhart.

This is wrong.

Where is Corazon!!!

For the second time in two weeks, Wang activated the mechanism embedded deep in his cerebral cortex so long ago on Earth. No one on Chiron could duplicate it now, nor would they be able to any time in the near future. It was the reason Wang refused rejuvenation - it would be discovered.

Wang composed and sent Santiago this message:

Corazon. Wherever you are, Sparta is in peril. Allardyce is captive and accused of treason. Burge has assumed complete control, but is nowhere to be found. The 469th holds Sparta Command. We need your leadership as never before!

W.

[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited October 20, 1999).]

[korn469]

Spartan Federation Capital Building
Sparta Command
16:34 hours SMT

Googlie was setting on the floor when the door opened and a man and woman walked in. He knew the woman, but just barely, it was Maria Constageura, the Spartan Federation Minister of Youth Education. She was a lander and member of the Junta, but she been on an extended sabbatical and she had not made a public appearance in four years. The other was in drop troop full battle fatigues but Googlie had never seen him before. He walked over to Googlie, shook his hand, and shot him a smile.

"Governor Allardyce I am Major Javed of the 469th, I've been designated your military counsel. I must appologize for the way you were arrested. The squad assigned to arrest you was supposed to do it in a civil mannor, but tensions were running high. They have been disiplined." Googlie nodded, the squad who arrest was deadly efficent. Since then he had been locked up here in a senators office, the conditions of his imprisonment could definatly have been worse.

"I understand Major, i guess every young officer wants to make a good impression on his superiors, and maybe he was trying a little bit too hard." Googlie could remember all the times he had tried to hard to make a good impression.

"You are correct govenor. This here is Minister Maria Constageura, she is going to be your voice before the Junta..." she cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"Scott" she had always called him Scott on the rare occasions when they had spoke she never became familiar enough to use Googlie with him, "you're in alot of trouble, and since I'm the only member of the Junta who Honshu considers impartial, I'm going to have to defend you." Unless you knew her she seemed very stern, not that she was a mean person, she just never had time for pleasantries. "Major Javed has already went over the charges with me. Your trial is starts in abour an hour so that doesn't give us much time. Since you are a member of the Junta, they are going to try you before the Junta. You trial is first, if convicted the Junta will pass judgement on you." She stopped to see if he was following her, and he nodded his head. "Now Scott, if they find you guilty, then they will try your friend before a military court, but at that point the outcome of her trial will not be in question. She will be found guilty of treason and conspiracy against the Federation and they will execute her in front of a firing squad immediately. However the Junta will pass a sentance against you, and who knows what they will decided on. HBut if they find you innocent, the actress will go free, so both of your lives depend on this trial. Do you understand this." She seemed like she was teaching in a Children's Creche, the way she acted she could have been going over instructions to her class before they went on a field trip.

"Yes I understand completely..." He was about to say something else when she cut him off.

"Good. Now then, since your trial is before the Junta, we won't be able to bring in a witness to refute Burge's holo, however he cannot use it as evidence against you either. I saw it and it is very damning Scott. However, this is a political trial, so even if they prove you are guilty of treason all we have to do is convince enough members of the Junta not to convict you. Originally, Burge wanted a military trial with General Lockhart as your judge and the Junta as observers, however a few hours ago a contingent of Gaian fighters left this base escorting Colonel Santiago to safety. Is that correct Major?"

"Yes Madame Minister it is."

"Well because you and your friend were already in custody Scott, that leaves only two possibilities for who was on that plane. Either it was the real Colonel Santiago back from the dead..." Googlie started to say something but she didn't let him, "or it was another imposter. Now I have no idea how many people are impersonating Colonel Santiago, but the computer says that the voice on that plane was most likely Colonel Santiago's. General Lockhart had no idea either, so he decided to let the Junta take care of its own and they now have the 'honor' of trying you." This was the first good news Googlie had heard all day! Corrie had managed to get away. He felt like a huge burden had been lifted off him. He had been pondering all day why Ashaandi would move against him, and all he could come up with is that somehow Ashaandi new Santiago was coming back today, and he decided to move against her before she could compromise his position. He started smiling and now started thinking how of how he could prove that Burge was really Ashaandi. His thought must have wandered because Maria smacked her hand down on the table making a loud noise that brought his attention back.

"Pay attention Scott, they dragged me out her from my flower garden and I don't want to be here anymore than you do."

"I'm sorry." He was still smiling, and then completely focused on her.

"Could you please wipe that smile off your face, Honshu is the Chief Magistrate of the Junta and I know he doesn't want you smiling at him. God Scott, why did you have to decide to look so young coming of the tanks? Most of us try to look wise and distinguished, they'll probably use that as evidence against you." She let out a disgusted sigh. "Major Javed brought your uniform for you, I’m going to leave but when I come back I want you looking respectable." She left and then Major Javed took a freshly pressed uniform out and handed it to him. Googlie let out a little chuckle, but on the inside he rolling with laughter. He just then realized that while preparing for one of the most somber occasions in his life, he was barely dressed, wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms.
[This message has been edited by korn469 (edited October 20, 1999).]

[Hydro]

Morgan Industries

The middle-aged doctor of Morgan Rejuvenation, Inc. brought a contract forward and Morgan Junior signed with a flourish, then submitted a thumbprint and retinal scan verification. As required by protocol, she verified Junior’s identity and authorization. In this case it was purely a formality, but taking responsibility for a breach of contract was always a serious business, and proper protocols had to be followed.

“Doctor, please begin the resuscitation,” Junior stated.

The doctor nodded and walked over to the rejuvenation tank. She keyed in her authorization and identity and started the premature resuscitation of the recumbent figure encased in gel within the tank.

Umbilicals snaked forward to all parts of the naked male’s body, administering a biochem cocktail that would stop and stabilize the rejuvenation. The subject had asked to be physically in his late 20s, but would have to settle for early 30s.

Already flickers of movement coursed through his body as the automated programs stimulated the new muscle mass and increased all body functions to normal.

A slight smile played across Junior’s face as he examined the body of Salvador “The Gecko” St. James.

*****

An attendant helped Salvador out of the warm shower, and immediately started toweling his hair dry. He was unresisting, but was progressively becoming aware of his environment and those around him.

The Gecko looked around the room, and a glint of comprehension and memory flickered in his eyes. He looked down and saw his hale form and smiled.

“Ahm, Miss? That’s OK. I can finish now. Where are my clothes?” Salvador asked as the young lady was busy toweling his chest dry, and was quickly getting to his midsection and beyond. Familiar stirrings threatened to erupt as his hormonal system was fully in place, and significantly augmented due to his newfound youth.

“As you wish, sir,” she said. She sauntered to a built in wardrobe and selected a casual set of navy slacks and muted gold shirt, and silk under pants and socks with synthleather shoes. Gecko looked at her questioningly as she brought them.

Anticipating his question, she replied, “These are the compliments of Nwabudike Morgan, Junior. He selected them himself, and will be here shortly, if you will receive him.”

“Why, certainly!” Gecko looked over the simple outfit and nodded approvingly. It was a bit flashy, but that was fine now. The young can be flashy without embarrassment!

“Shall I show him in?” she asked solicitously.

“Ah, wait a moment,” Gecko said as he pulled on his clothes. They were a perfect fit, and felt wonderful.

Particularly the silk boxers!

Wait ‘til Trisha gets a load of these! he thought.

The attendant turned and left as he finished dressing. A moment later Morgan Junior walked in.

“Mr. St. James, I must apologize for your early awakening. I have deprived you of the last 5 years of your rejuvenation, and have personally signed the breach of contract penalty. Please, let these small gifts partially ameliorate any ill will you may have.”

“Early awakening? I’ve been awakened early? Why?”

“I would not, of course, do such a thing in an arbitrary and capricious manner. I’m afraid events have changed significantly since you entered rejuvenation, and events have conspired that may require your attention. You see, the Spartan and Morgan Federations are now allied against Yang, who is under assault from us and the Gaians. While important, the more pressing issue is a coup within Sparta, which threatens the alliance. Your old fiend Scott is on trial for treason, apparently, and has been deposed by Burge. Interestingly, Coronal Corazon Santiago is here at Morgan Industries, apparently in exile…”

“Cory is here! Are you sure?!!” Gecko exclaimed, as his surprise turned into shock.

“Yes, it is she. She, too, had been in the care of Morgan Rejuvenation, Inc. at the facility located at Morgan Bank. I took it upon my purgative to awaken you, since she may wish to confer with you. She does not, of course, know of your location. I suspect that no one knows of your location,” Junior replied

Gecko smiled. “Well, thank you! I owe you one! Can you take me to see Cory now?”

“I will take you right away. They are probably in conference with Father.”

“Great! Oh, and thank you for the clothes! You have excellent taste. It isn’t what I would have chosen, but is seems appropriate for someone who is 28 again!”

“Not 28. 33.”

“Oh, yes. I feel the same. What difference does five years make, anyway?”

“With rejuvenation, none at all! None at all!”

Together, they walked out of the room, and up to the Morgan Governmental Palace Council Chamber.

[Slats]

ADMIRALTY BASE
AIRFIELD BRIEFING ROOM

Mario looked around the room at his fellow soldiers. Occupying the various chairs and tables sat some of the most veteran pilots in SAC. Along with his own aircraft, Pinwheel 5, the four aircraft formerly of the Plex Anthill detachment had been diverted here as well as another inexperienced crew originally from Janissary Rock. This meant that more than half of 4th Wing’s active aircrew now filled the room. In all his short career, Mario had never seen so many SAC pilots in one room. Yet they were not the only airmen there that night.

The Rolling Thunder’s ground support Aardvark flight of 5 aircraft had also arrived. The Vark pilots had already met several of the Spartan airmen at Plex Anthill and chatted easily with them.

The pilot of Pinwheel 2, Bert Evans, the most senior airman present, took the stand beside a large holoprojection screen which displayed a recent satellite photo of the area surrounding Labourer’s Throng. The room automatically fell silent apart from the occasional slurp or munch as the hungry crews consumed snacks as they watched. Bert’s booming voice rang out clearly.

“Well people, it’s been quite a trip for many of us here. And now it’s time to take the fight to the Hive”.

The room buzzed as everyone murmured their agreement. Bert went on:

“Tomorrow morning Spartan forces will assault Labourer’s Throng. We will first refuel at Zanzibar to maximise our time over the area before clearing the area around Throng of defences and ensure security for the primary phase of the seaborne landings”.

“Once the defences have been neutralised, Spartan naval groups, currently sheltering at the free port of Zanzibar, will transport troops to the area and seize control of the base. Understand: this operation MUST succeed. It could all change the course of the war. And make no mistake, Yang will try to stop us. Now all of you know that it’s probably going to get pretty hairy up there, it appears Yang’s boys haven’t been sitting on their thumbs all this time. Morgan Pharmaceuticals is testament to that”.

“That was pure luck”, whispered Mario to his weapons officer, Craig, who grinned.

Evans was now onto the targeting brief. He used a laser pointer to indicate areas on the holoprojected map as he spoke.

“You’ve all got your assignments in your briefing packs, but so that everyone understands what’s happening, we’ll quickly run through it. No offence intended, but 4th Wing aircraft will make up the first wave.”

The Aardvark pilots send up a loud, mocking cheer as they shoved and pushed the SAC pilots jovially.

“All Indigo’s will provide air cover but not before this bunker line, here, is destroyed along with this strong point south of the perimeter. Chaos shells should be enough but you have your air to surface missiles if needed.

Penetrators will take out the hardened targets with missiles or tele-operated glide bombs. Pinwheel 3 will destroy the harbour garrison depot and sea wall while Pin 5 targets the pillboxes defending the main entrance to Throng itself. My crew will destroy this communications relay and then these dug in infantry positions above the cliffs. After this phase of the attack is complete, 4th Wing units will withdraw to refuel and rearm and then return to take part in the actual assault.

By this time Spartan fleet units should have reached the area and will have commenced their offshore bombardment. The second airborne package will strengthened in addition by the Varks who will provide close fire support with our penetrators during the ground assault”.

Bert paused to see if anyone had any problems with the plan so far. No one spoke up.

“Need I remind anyone that any foils, ships, rovers or wandering patrol groups are all valid secondary targets. That’s it troops. We launch in three hours, try and get some sleep”.

Bert left out the fact they had lost contact with SAC headquarters at Sparta Command. Something serious was going down, but at the moment this group wasn’t in a position to deal with it…

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

The first rising sun glowed orange red as it peeked above the horizon. Beneath, Mario watched the aqua marine ocean surface slip by peacefully. The other five aircraft in the formation held their positions as steady as rocks, bumping only over the odd thermal updraft current.
Flying a mere 50 feet above the surface, early in the morning, carrying a full munitions load could be classed as dangerous flying but all the crews handled it like a walk in the park, cool professionalism masking whatever fears any of them had. At this height it was hoped the Hive radar net wouldn’t find the strike package amid the ground clutter. Mario had just finished tweaking the navigation system when Bert’s voice crackled over the scrambled commlink.

“By the numbers, check in…”

“Pinwheel Three is green”.

“Pinwheel Five is green” rattled Mario.

“Indigo Two is green”.

“Indigo Three is green”.

“Indigo Four is green and good to go”, hooted Pedro cheerfully from his ‘pit.

“Sounds good everyone, Pinwheel Three take lead, we await your release”.

“Roger Lead, Three is up and will have pickle in 8 minutes”.

Up ahead, Pinwheel Two and Three swapped positions as Three, Ranjit’s ship, was detailed to take the harbour facilities which would appear over the horizon first. The flight wasn’t approaching the city dead on but at an angle from the side. This was because the glide weapons being carried were slower than the actual aircraft so the Spartans would release their weapons from the side and then circle back round to attack again.

The minutes ticked by with aching slowness.

“Flight, this is Pinwheel Three, pickle in four, three, two, one… Bombs away.

Instead of dramatically dropping away, the two fat glider bombs floated away from the fuselage of Penetrator and began to descend slowly toward the faraway glittering lights of the enemy port.

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

The night supervisor in the Hive command center had just about drifted off to sleep when an alarm sounded. Someone down at the docks had just sounded an alarm. The man dialed up a security camera on his console and swept the view across the scene. Admit shattered rubble and broken support struts, fires were already beginning to spread. The harbour garrison bunker and armory had ceased to exist. As the supervisor reached for an alert panel one, two, four, seven alarms began to sound!!!! The man’s hand mashed onto an alert switch when he realized the pattern. Hive fortifications were being blown off the map.

To those unfortunates posted outside that morning, it seemed as though an invisible force was digging out the Hive infestation, rooting them out from their plascrete burrows. Dark shapes screamed overhead, howling their fury.

A corporal over in Bunker 4 had just stood up at hearing the low crumps which signified an impact on the surface. He hadn’t had long to think when a Spartan Arms depleted uranium core Bunker Buster missile seared its way through the thick wall and detonated.

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

All over the planet word came in, the attack on Labourer’s Throng had begun.


[This message has been edited by Slats (edited October 20, 1999).]

[Hydro]

UN Headquarters

Commissioner Pravin Lal walked into his office exhausted again. It took all his energy to keep the various factions in his parliamentary-style government united. His dark brown eyes had bags under them, and he was too thin. Long and flowing, his gown only accentuated his shoulders, which sloped as if the weight of the world were upon him.

At his plain desk made of real wood, Pravin put his palms on the edge and leaned forward, hanging his head.

There were so many interests! One coalition would be formed, only to dissolve over some other, invariably petty, dispute or personality conflict! It was like he was at the center of an amoeba, trying to hold its amorphous sides from spreading out.

After 10 hours of meetings and sidebars Pravin was tired, mentally and physically. Still there was work that had to be done.

Straightening, he walked around his desk to his hand carved chair. Sitting, he swiveled around and called up his Industry Minister’s report, which had been languishing for over 2 weeks.

Minister Kalti was of the Loyal Opposition. Although a good man, Lal knew enough to check his reports. Trust is one thing, but implicit trust is quite another.

Pravin scrolled through the holodocument and touch activated the displays for each city. Most showed the progress of an important piece of infrastructure, like a recreation center in smaller communities, tree farms in mid-sized cities, and research hospitals and habitation centers in established metropolises. It was very satisfying seeing the excellent progress these efforts were making.

Even more satisfying was that a land-based colony had been established north of UN Data Acquisition, a sea colony in the energy-rich Geothermal Shadows, and a second sea colony on the west side of Mt. Planet, south of Spartan territory.

Pravin was briefly confused. Why put a base near Mt. Planet? That is far from our territory, and sure to irritate the Spartans.

He examined the map again, and noted that the new base was far from land or sea claims by the Spartans – it was unclaimed territory. Pravin dismissed it from his mind.

Turning back to his build queues, he noticed three cities with only vague descriptions of what they were building: Planetary Trust, UN Great Refuge, and Amnesty Town. All the descriptions said was ‘prototype defensive garrison’.

Prototype? We have no need to prototype.

Pravin made a mental note to ask Minister Kalti about those entries.

Then his rubbed his eyes in fatigue. Looking at his holo queue, it started to blur. He turned it off and looked at his world map instead. His eyes lighted on the Hive and Morgan Federation, the current hop spots. A week ago it had been four bases which ‘voluntarily’ suceeded from Yang to joing Morgan. Lal snorted at Morgan’s treachery. The weeks before that it had been Plex Anthill and Zanzibar. Before that it was the abortive Hive attack on Assassin’s Redoubt and Ft. Superiority.

While the rest of the world tears itself apart in horrible, fratricidal war, my people continue to hold true to their ideals: peace, human rights, and the UN Charter. That is all that keeps me going, Pravin thought to himself. Even my Spartan allies drift from my hard-fought ideals. How long can I hold out? How long can I continue to hope, and pray, that the Spartans will not continue along the path toward being the warmongers they seemingly are becoming again? I had thought they had learned during their nasty war with Zakharov.

Maybe I have failed there, too?

Now even this simple map was starting to blur. Pravin got up and walked to the low couch to take a nap.

Council was in three hours.

Lal curled on his side and was instantly asleep.

[Hydro]

Quote from Fluffy the Mindworm: I love double posts BURP!

[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited October 20, 1999).]

[Hydro]

Ehm: burp I love double posts, too!
[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited October 20, 1999).]

[Hydro]

BUUUUURRRRP!: Alphonse
[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited October 20, 1999).]

[Googlie]

Googlie's Insurance expired, Morgan Insurance Corporation



[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited October 22, 1999).]