Chiron Chronicles Part I

[Mark123jansen]

Chiron Chronicles, Part I,

University Base.

It was a quiet day at University Base. The city was at peace. But it would not remain that way for long. In the city’s tallest spire, in an office overlooking the city, sat an old man. He looks weary and is staring at his black communication screen. He turns his chair around, gets up and walks toward the windows overlooking the city. It is the city of University Base, situated comfortably around Landing Bay. Ah, he remembered the day that the University landing pod touched down on that beach; he could see the exact site a few hundred feet below him in the city’s central square.
It had been a difficult century for Zakharov, leading his University faction on the surface of a new alien planet, trying to survive the attacks of their new homeworld and the six other surviving human factions alike. For the last twenty-five years, however, an uneasy peace had settled amongst the colonies, giving each of the seven factions on the planet a chance to rebuild their defenses and expand their infrastructure.
And expanded they had. As Zakharov glanced over the city below him, he saw signs of new construction all around him. To the north of the city a new fusion power plant was being built, and just a few blocks away from the city’s central square, a new research hospital was nearing completion.
Yes, University Base was truly experiencing a golden age. But it was not the only city under Zakharov’s command. To the north lay Cosmograd, and to the West were the outposts of Lab Three and Okrieta Discovery. And just a few miles east of University Base was Chiron Hawk, a base that the University had captured from the Spartans just before their cease-fire, twenty-six years earlier.
The fragile peace amongst the colonies was in danger. He had just received a message from his intelligence chief. Even though the University intelligence machine had always been weak compared to the other factions, it was still effective enough to keep him informed of enemy troop movements, but this report was not about mere troop movements.
It appeared that the Spartans had finally managed to construct an intercontinental ballistic missile, or ICBM as they had been called back on Earth. The University had always had a technological advantage over the other factions, and thus such missiles had been developed decades ago. But the University mainly used them to construct orbital power transmitters, to power their massive laboratories. In the hands of the Spartans, however, ICBM’s could be equipped with nuclear warheads and used as weapons of mass destruction. Unfortunately nuclear technology had come a long way since the twentieth century. A single nuclear warhead, powered by a fusion-, or maybe even an experimental quantum reactor, could wipe out an entire continent.
Zakharov was deeply troubled by this event. Even though there was a truce between the Spartans and the University, it was due to expire next year. University diplomats had been trying, unsuccessfully, for months to convince the Spartans to renew the truce when it expired, but the Spartans claimed that they would prefer neutrality to any form of affiliation.
After a century of planetary politics Zakharov knew better than that. Any faction that was not planning to attack another faction would do almost everything to be at peace with that faction, since the trade-revenues alone would make it worth their while. Not that the University needed the Spartans for trade. They already had very profitable trade agreements with the Morganites and Gaians. He also knew that even if the Spartans were to try a conventional attack, it would be pitiful. Even though the Spartan armies outnumbered the University volunteer guard, the University’s defense technology was leaps ahead of the Spartan weapons.
Now Zakharov had three choices. To do nothing and hope for the best ha, that would be what that zealot Miriam Godwinson and her believer faction would do. They would just kneel in their cathedrals and pray to their god. But not the University, their faith was wisely put into their machines and technology.
Zakharov’s second choice was to contact Corazon Santiago, at Sparta Command, and confront her directly about her plans. That would be what that fool Pravin Lal and his UN peacekeepers would do, talk the enemy to death; but no, the University was based on clear logical action, not endless debate.
So the choice was clear, Provost Zakharov of the University would launch a preemptive strike against the Spartans, and end their threat once and for all. Up in the mountains behind University Base he had hidden a dozen or so missile silos during the first Sparta-University wars. They were still equipped with the outdated nuclear reactors but could still do significant damage.
His mind now made up, Zakharov sat down at his desk and punched in the code for the silo’s commander. “Commander Vostok, this is the Provost. I am hereby authorizing a preemptive strike against Sparta Command, Bunker City and Hero’s Stand, Use your missiles at you own judgment, as long as those bases are wiped off the face of the planet.” The commander quickly replied, and then turned away from the screen to relay the order to his subordinates. It would take them a few minutes to program the trajectories, and then they would find and destroy their targets, effectively wiping out the entire Spartan faction.
As Zakharov stood up from his desk and was about to turn to his window once again, his communication screen beeped. When he reactivated the screen, a panicking man appeared. When the man recognized Zakharov, he calmed down a bit. When he had regained his composure a bit, he looked Zakharov straight in the eyes and said, “The Spartans just launched a Quantum ICBM at University Base. You must evacuate immediately”.
“Damn, they couldn’t have known I launched our nukes so fast.” Zakharov didn’t even bother to turn off the communication screen as he rushed out of the room, calling for his aides to come with him. When he reached the helipad on the top of the spire, his personal helicopter was waiting for him, and as he boarded it, in the corner of his eye he saw the bright flare of a missile re-entering the atmosphere over Landing Bay. He knew that the helicopter would not get them out of the blast radius in time, so he just stood there, looking over his city, as he had done so many times over the last century, but this time, he knew it was going to be the last time.

[Mark123jansen]

Part II to follow soon!

[Mark123jansen]

Here's part two:
Chiron Chronicles, Part II,

Gaia’s Landing,
A thousand miles west of University base there was the Gaian capital of Gaia’s Landing. The Gaians had adapted an architectural style vastly different than that of the University. Instead high-rising ivory towers, the Gaians had opted for a more organic approach. Their towers were made not of ivory, but of living, breathing plants, giant stalks of bamboo, genetically engineered to soar up to five hundred feet into the air. The Gaian engineers then hollowed out the giant shoots, and built elevators, staircases, platforms and windows, transforming the bamboo into living skyscrapers.
At the base of their living towers, the Gaians transformed the land into a vast garden that shifted into farmland as they got further from the actual city. It was in one of these gardens that Lady Deidre Skye was walking when the great mushroom cloud appeared on the horizon. Gaia’s Landing was much to far ground zero for the flash to be dangerous for it’s citizens, but the cloud was still visible over the horizon.
The instant the cloud came into sight Deidre’s security people were swarming around her, rushing her to the bunkers hidden deep under the city’s roots. The command center that was buried there was not as comfortable as the main one on top of the highest bamboo-tower, with its 360 degree view over the city, and its blooming potted plants, but the underground one did have protection against a nuclear blast.
Once Lady Deidre was safely inside the emergency command center, or ECC, her commanders briefed her on the situation; University Base was no more. A quantum ICBM had detonated over Landing Bay, taking out the Entire University capital.
Lady Deidre was by far the most beautiful of the seven faction leaders, her ebony-black hair, and her blushing cheeks alone had earned her the admiration of her followers. That day, however, after hearing that over one million of her ally’s citizens had just been vaporized, her face was pale and had a bewildered look upon it.
She immediately ordered that three heavily shielded helicopters be flown to the impact site to look for survivors. She just hoped that their new silksteel armor would protect her people from the radiation.
As she anxiously waited for news from the helicopter crew, she was flooded with reports. Pravin Lal had called for a meeting of the Planetary Council to be held next week, to discuss the sanctions for this atrocity. The reports from her intelligence staff indicated that the Spartans were behind the attack. Another report said that the University had just launched all its nukes at the Spartan cities, mere minutes before the destruction of University Base. Deidre had never had many dealings with Corazon Santiago and her survivalist faction, but the rumors she had heard were disturbing at the least.
She remembered the reports that the Gaian ambassador at University Base had sent her, regarding the Spartan base the University had captured, Chiron Eagle, no Chiron Hawk it was called. The pictures that had accompanied the report had indeed said more than a thousand words of reports could ever say. The Spartans did not build living cities like the Gaians or the lofty spires of the University cities, but their bases were low, partially subterranean bunkers, nothing more. They built with defense in mind, pillboxes on every intersection, and murderholes at every gate.
If all their cities were built like that, they might actually stand a chance of surviving one of Zakharov’s nukes. Impulsively, and partially out of curiosity, she contacted Pravin Lal, to see if he could provide her with the Comm-frequency of the Spartans.
Pravin, usually a pleasant, conversational man, looked very angry that day. him Deidre could see over a dozen other communication screens behind Pravin. She couldn’t see his face, but she could see the back of his head and his hands making quick angry motions, as he snapped orders to several of the screens. When Pravin finally turned to face her, she could see veins standing out clearly on his neck.
“Pravin, my old friend, I have a favor to ask of you.” Deidre said cautiously, trying not to upset Pravin any more than he obviously already was “I wish to speak to Corazon Santiago, to see if she requires any humanitarian aid, helping her in a time of need could form a good foundation for a peace treaty.”
Pravin rolled his eyes before he replied, but his breathing had become more regular, Deidre always did seem to have a relaxing effect on people “Very well Deidre.” he looked down for a moment, apparently at his console, and tapped at a few keys “I’m transmitting it now. However, I doubt you’ll be able to get through to her, I have been trying for the last hour, with no avail. Nevertheless, you owe me for this, and I expect to see something in return during the next council meeting!”
A screen behind Pravin bleeped at him and he turned around, severing the connection. Under normal conditions Deidre would have been offended, but today was not a normal day, she knew Pravin was immensely busy, coordinating with the other faction leaders for the sake of peace.
As Deidre looked around the concrete room that was the ECC, she felt a sudden urge to go to her main command center, up in the sky, with her beautiful city reaching for the suns around her. Finally making up her mind, she got out of her chair and into the elevator. With the elevator rising, she could feel her spirits rise with it. By the time the elevator reached the command center in the top of the living skyscraper, she was filled with hope.
When she entered the command center, most of the staff turned around and looked at her. “If nobody has attacked us by now, they are not going to.” She simply stated to reassure them. This seemed good enough for them, as they all returned to their duties. The command center was lined with windows all around, giving a magnificent view. Walking through the command center, she paused for a moment, and gazed around, slowly turning a full circle, taking in the majesty of the city and the landscape around her. The sun was finally setting after a weary day, bathing the hills in golden light and Crystal Lake to the south looked as if it had diamonds floating on its surface. The gardens below were nearly deserted, although from this height she could barely make out people. Catching her breath, Deidre focused once again on the here and now, and resumed her pace.
Seated in her proper command chair, Deidre tried to contact Corazon Santiago. Surprisingly, the grim woman answered the call personally, and within seconds.
“Greetings Lady Deidre, your reputation precedes you. The good Pravin Lal told me to expect your call.” Santiago smiled a slick little smile, filled with loathing and contempt. Deidre could immediately tell that what Santiago knew of her and her people did not please her, but she appeared to be willing to play along for the moment for immediate gains.
It wasn’t the kind of relationship Deidre had hoped for, but it would have to do for now. “I am glad he managed to contact you. I assume he told you of my desire to lend humanitarian aid to your people, and my hope for a treaty?”
“My people would be most grateful for any humanitarian aid you and your people could provide.” Deidre saw Santiago frown at the mere suggestion of her people needing ‘humanitarian aid’, but she seemed to instantly swallow her pride. She seemed a woman of reason, and fortunately she could put her people’s needs before her own pride.
Deidre breathed a relieved sigh, glad that Santiago wasn’t the hard-as-nails military macho that whispers around the planetary council made her out to be. “And maybe after my people deliver the supplies to your cities, we could negotiate a formal treaty of friendship between the Spartan Confederation and the Gaian Republic?”
Deidre hoped she wasn’t pushing to far too fast, but Santiago somehow managed to produce a smile on her face, a wry, cold and terrifying smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea, I do believe that the Spartans and the Gaians have a great deal in common and that we will both profit tremendously from such an arrangement.” Santiago’s voice sounded cold and precise, the smile leaving her face the moment she opened her mouth.
Deidre however did not care. She had just made sure that another one of the human factions on Chiron was no longer a direct threat to her people. As she finished the conversation with the appropriate formalities, she made a mental note to host a major celebration the day the treaty was signed.
Her aides had been monitoring the conversation, and they were already preparing a caravan of rovers stuffed with relief workers and supplies. At times like this she envied Pravin Lal, whose position as chairman of the planetary council effectively gave him an infiltrator in every faction capital through his ambassadors.
She however, had to rely on her clumsy network of freelance spies, and second or even third hand reports. There was no way to know what the relief workers were in for exactly, how much of the Spartan cities was left standing.
Deidre spent the rest of the evening coordinating the preparations for the Spartan relief mission. She felt compelled to work, unable to eat, sleep or even leave the command center, until she knew she had done absolutely everything possible to help. An hour before dawn just as she was finally about to collapse from fatigue, she saw three bright light over the horizon, coming from the same direction as where she had seen the mushroom cloud the day before.
A surge of energy suddenly pulsed through her body. One of the aides at the communication station was already wrapped up in a conversation with one of the helicopters. She instantly walked over the aide, and almost pushed him out of his chair before he could stand up for her. As she took a spare microphone and headset, she could hear the chatter of the pilots.
When the headset finally made its way to her ears, she could hear the pilot clearly “We have survivors! Interference on site was to heavy due to radiation, so we could not contact you earlier.” The pilot sounded very excited and proud of herself.
The excitement had already infected Deidre too though “Copter one, this is Lady Deidre, how many survivors are there and have you identified any of them? Is Zakharov amongst them?”
A few agonizing seconds of static passed, while lady Deidre anxiously awaited a reply from the pilot, until finally a crackle came over the radio “Negative lady Deidre, Zakharov is not on any of our helicopters. One of the survivors here claims he was last seen heading to the roof of the main government tower, we have confirmation that the tower was destroyed.”
Deidre slumped into the nearest chair, against her better judgement she had held on to the sliver of hope that Zakharov might be alive. Pulling herself together she took the microphone again “I am sorry to hear that Copter one, make sure that all the survivors receive proper medical attention upon your arrival, I expect a full report tomorrow at 1100 hours.”
“Roger that lady Deidre, Copter one out.”
Deidre felt drained after that conversation, both physically and emotionally, Zakharov had been a good friend of hers over the last century. It was his technology that had kept her, and many of her best and brightest citizens, young and beautiful over all that time. Without the constant outpour of new technological wonders from his labs, human civilization on Chiron might not have survived at all.
She took a flight of stairs up to the very top of the living skyscraper, to her private penthouse, over the command center. Deidre had decorated her apartment in a very homely style, full of living greenery and relaxing colors, making one forget the hub of activity a few meters below it. When she got to her bedroom, she didn’t even bother changing, she fell down unto the bed, and was asleep before she even hit the pillow.
Her sleep, however, was not peaceful. Her dreams were plagued by vivid images of nuclear explosions and people dying by the thousands. At 1100 hours she suddenly sat up straight in her bed, not sure whether her nightmares, or the incessant beeping of her companel awakened her.
She got up, straightened her clothes a bit, and answered the call. The bewildered face of the technician that was talking to the helicopters that morning appeared on her screen “Lady Deidre, we have an emergency down here requiring your immediate attention.”
A combination of her sense of duty and adrenaline instantly shot her into full consciousness “I be right down.” She said as she deactivated the screen. When she climbed down her stairs, she descended into a sea of chaos.
Aides and techs were scurrying around, with no apparent goal, screens were flickering all around and people were yelling at each other. The dominant impression however, was the static-filled transmission that boomed out of the command centers speakers “Mayday, Mayday, this is the Gaian Relief convoy, outside of Sparta Command. We are under attack by what appears to be Spartan rovers and infantry. They opened fire on us as we approached the city. There appears to be no damage at al from the nukes. I repeat, we are under fire from Spartan troops, Mayday, Mayday!”
Deidre pushed one of the techs out of his chair and grabbed his mircophone “Relief convoy, this is Lady Deidre, can you retreat?”
A short burst of static followed, presumably the commander was assesing the situation before he answered “Negative milady, they’ve gotten us pinned down pretty good. If we don’t get any reinforcement soon, were goners!” A hint of panic saturated the man’s voice, Deidre’s people were well trained, but not used to combat situations.
Deidre took a few seconds to absorb the reply and the consequences of what she was about to do. With a final stroke of doom in her mind, she picked up the microphone again “Hang in there commander, help is underway!” Turning around to the military station, she pressed the button to contact her Psi-ops HQ “This is Lady Deidre, we have an emergency, code red, I am hereby authorizing military action against Spartan military personnel attacking our convoy. Mobilize Mindworm squads one, nine and seventeen, and send them to the convoys last known position.”
The commander at the Psi-ops HQ had been waiting for an opportunity like this for years, and responded enthusiastically “Yes milady, may I suggest deploying squad fifteen instead of seventeen, since they are closer?”
“Very well, commander, use any means necessary, but I want that convoy saved!” With that Deidre cut the connection and sat down to weight the consequences of what she had just done.
None of the other factions knew about her Psi-ops program, most of her own citizens did not even know about it. She had always considered it her trump card, to be used only during a dire emergency. And now, now she was about to use it. She was about to use telepathic humans to turn the planets native life against her enemies. The power that was implied by that ability was awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time.
Deidre decided that, even though Santiago did not seem to care for formalities, the least she would do was issue a formal declaration of war. No, just war was not enough, Santiago attacked an unarmed convoy that was on a humanitarian mission. War was not enough, she would declare Vendetta on Santiago and her Spartans, and she and all the other factions would tremble before the power of the mindworms.

[Lord_Icewind]

Hey, not half-bad, keep it up! (Might I add as well that my fav factions from SMAC are the Univertity and the Gaians...I liked your aproach!)

[GeoModder]

/me reads carefully, and sees that it is good.

[Mark123jansen]

thanks, im working on part three now, starring the Spartans

[Mark123jansen]

Chiron Chronicles, Part III,

Sparta Command,
Colonel Corazon Santiago stood on a balcony overlooking Sparta Command’s main street, watching the parade below. And what a sight it was. Even after a century of training her troops to absolute precision it never ceased to fill her heart with pride to see them march. In the center of the parade there was one group that did not march with precision though, in fact most of them were limping and being forced on by the Spartan soldiers behind them. They also looked different from the Spartans surrounding them, they were lean like most Spartans, but in a different way. Spartans all had muscular bodies, men and women alike, built for combat. The Spartan Battle Manuel, that she herself had written, stated; Any gram of fat you bear on your body is better used carrying a gram of Ammunition. But these foreigners were wiry, very contrasting to her Spartans. For these were not Spartans, they were Gaians.

The caravan Santiago had ordered to be ‘confiscated’ outside of Sparta Command had contained a wealth of minerals, nutrients and even a small amount of power cells, bolstering Sparta’s energy reserves.

Unfortunately a boil of mindworms erupted from a nearby patch of fungus killing many Spartan soldiers and preventing all the supplies from being transported back to Sparta Command. Most of the Gaian civilians on the transport had either been killed in the fighting or managed to escape when the mindworms attacked, somehow keeping their minds clear in the psionic inferno that must have raged there.

It struck Santiago as odd, that those undisciplined, unorganized Gaians could withstand the mindworms’ psionic powers so well, while her own perfectly disciplined troops could barely maintain their sanity, even before a hatchling boil. Maybe those ragged prisoners in the street below her could provide her with some answers.

With a glance at the streets and a final salute to her citizens, Santiago spun around on her heel and marched back inside. Once she was inside and the heavy armored door was closed behind her, she let out a sigh of relief. She had held up the act for her people once more. For over a hundred of planets years she had been strong for her people, holding the image of an implacable perfect military leader without doubts, but a century of this had drained her spirit. She could never show even a hint doubt to anyone, not even her closest advisors, or the junta would be upon her like a pack of vultures pecking the power of her body.

Thus far Santiago had survived, building her bases on the edge of the Great Dunes, the vast desert of Chiron, and forging her ragged band of colonists into an army such as planet had never seen, or would ever see again. She had survived the war with the University, although it had cost her one of her largest bases, and the lives of her finest soldiers. And now she had survived the nuclear firestorm Zakharov had hurled at her in his final spasm.

Above all Santiago had always been a military leader, and in being that, the first possibilities she had seen for orbital capabilities had been military ones. While the University and Morganites had built orbital power transmitters, and the Gaians raised their shiny ‘Skyfarms’, Santiago had ordered her worker-soldiers to build orbital defense pods to defend her cities for the day that Zakharov would finally wake up and realize the potential he had in his hands. She knew her factories didn’t have the industrial capacity to create fields of missile silo’s such as Zakharov’s, so she had decided to build just one.
But one very special missile.
A few years after the war with the University ended, a lone Spartan scout patrol exploring the vast jungles of XenoFungus on the southern continent, uncovered a strange alien device. This ‘Alien artifact’ was transported back to Sparta Command with all due haste and stealth, where it was linked to the central network node for analysis.

Most of the devices datacore had been damaged or scrambled by the eons it must have laid hidden. But a small section of its memory was found intact. After a team of scientists, some of whom were University captives and prisoners of war, spent months decrypting and translating the device, they finally produce usable information; The vehicle was powered by a quantum reactor, and the usable section of memory contained its building schematics.

This had been an incredible breakthrough for the Spartans, they had a technological edge over the other factions on Chiron for the very first time. Even the University had barely begun to theorize about quantum power.
Santiago immediately ordered the Alien device’s reactor to be transferred to the only functioning ICBM the Spartan Federation had built, an outdated fission warhead. Coupled with the quantum reactor its warhead could generate more explosive power than Zakharov’s entire army combined. And it had been stored in a silo outside of Hero’s Stand for over twenty years now. Until two day ago.

With the University-Sparta truce about to expire and University diplomats at every corner pleading for peace, Santiago had know the time was ripe to strike back. Vengeance for al her dead soldiers and the subjugation of Chiron Hawk was at hand. Zakharov’s diplomats would not beg for peace like they did if they thought Sparta not a threat to them.

Deciding to preempt the expiration of the truce by a few day, to maintain the element of surprise, Santiago had ordered her Quantum ICBM be launched at University Base. Yet in a strange twist of fate, Zakharov himself, in an uncharacteristically military conclusion, had also decided to launch his missiles against her. Her orbital satellites had stopped most of the nukes, but a single missile managed to get through and hit Bunker City.

Nothing had been heard from the base governor or any of her citizens since the impact. Santiago did not doubt that some of her people at that base were still alive, after all, Spartan bases were built like massive complexes of bunkers, and Bunker City had been partially dug into the wall of Sunny Mesa. The few minutes of warning would have allowed many people to get to safety, for now. Their food and air supplies would be limited, and radiation would be seeping through the soil into the complexes.

The mother inside Corazon urged her to send an expedition to evacuate the survivors and supply them with medical aid. The military commander inside her however, simply wrote them off as ‘civilian casualties’ and ‘collateral damage’ reasoning that any soldier sent to aid Bunker City could be better used in the campaign to secure the remaining University cities.

Alone in her windowless office, she sat in doubt. She knew that any second there would be a knock on her door, or a bleep from her companel, asking her what she had decided. As soon as the thought entered her mind, her companel did indeed bleep. She let it sound three times, just to let whomever was on the other end feel that she was busy and didn’t want, or have time to, talk to them.
When she did answer the panels incessant noise, the face that appeared startled her. For a second it appeared as if Zakharov himself was staring at her from the holoscreen, eyes burning with rage, an image sent from hell to haunt her. After a moment of silently staring at the holoscreen she realized that this demon was not Zakharov. She recognized the face as Federov, having met him at the Convention at U.N. Headquarters that ended the Sparta-University war.

Federov spoke to her, his voice devoid of emotion, unlike his eyes “I am Yuri Federov, I now bear the title of Provost of the University of Planet. After conferring with the other faction leaders, we have decided that your actions have clearly demonstrated that your faction is a danger to the human colonization effort here on Chiron, and poses a significant risk of repeating the mistakes of Earth that drove us all here. Therefore the planetary council has deemed you unfit to take seat in the its ranks forthwith, and in compliance with the U.N. Charter, all other factions hereby declare upon you a state of war.”

With that Federov ended the comlink. Santiago sat in her chair for a few more seconds, absorbing what had just happened. The entire planet had declared war on her! She never expected anyone to take sides with the university, not after the way it had made them all bend over backward for every byte of data from their laboratories, after constantly blackmailing them for the genetic treatments that kept them all young after planetfall. Sparta’s armies were vast and powerful, but no match for the combined strength of the other factions.

In the minutes that followed every faction leader individually contacted her to personally declare war on her. After a lecture from Morgan on how atomic bombs were ‘bad for business’, and a preach from Miriam detailing what hell would be like for every Spartan that did not convert, Santiago finally lost it when Pravin Lal contacted her and started rambling his ideals at her. She smashed the companel with her bare fists when Pravin said the word Charter for the fifth time in two minutes.

She stormed out of her office and went to her war room. This room was located in one of Sparta Command’s deepest bunkers, underneath the Command Nexus that coordinated most of her forces.

After informing her generals and advisors of the situation they immediately started planning their defenses for an assault from all sides. Base governors were contacted and instructed to put their bases on high alert, and reserve troops were activated. Santiago spent the remainder of the day anticipating where the other factions might attack.
What was left of the University would use their drop troops to launch precision strikes at the hear to of Spartan territory, nothing to be done against them until they landed. Morgan would surely sent his fleet from the south to lay siege to her naval port at Fort Legion. While the Hive would send its mindless hordes from the north, no matter, the Hive was roughly equal to Sparta in technology, but Spartan troops were far more disciplined, Yang’s troops would break on hers like waves on the shore. Skye, east of the University really couldn’t do more than throw harsh languages and nutrient packets at her, her army consisted only of a handful of policemen and scout rovers, nothing that could harm the Spartans. Her main worries were to the south, the Peacekeeper airforce and the Believer crusaders. Miriams crusaders would take weeks to reach Sparta from the southern continent Miriam shared with Lal, but Lal’s Needlejets could fly across the Pholus channel anytime for bombing runs on her southern bases. Therefore Santiago gave the governors of her southern bases orders to equip their defenders with SAM missiles, in order to shoot down the Peacekeeper Needlejets.
When all the preliminary plans had finally been laid out, Santiago decided that she needed to go above ground to see how her people were holding up, and boost their morale.

When the elevator finally reached the surface, after traveling up almost five hundred meters, Santiago stood under the Centauri Suns again. As she and her guards made their way to the nearest barracks, she felt an itch in the back of her mind, which quickly grew to a screech that filled her head. It was a screech she had heard dozens of times here on Chiron, and so had her guards. As they switched their impact rifles for flameguns, the Mindworm alerts went off all over Sparta Command.

Despite her guards pleas that she should be inside the command center, Santiago insisted that they go to the Perimeter Defense and observe the battle from there. Santiago stood on the walls of Sparta Command like a rock amidst a sea of her own people. Apart from the annoying screech the mindworms had never had any power over Santiago. They fed on fear and made you live your worst nightmares. But Santiago had already lived her worst fears and nightmares back on Earth, so there was nothing for the worms to feed on.

Unfortunately, most of her soldiers did not had that ‘advantage’, and the boil that she saw sprawling on the plains before her city was larger than any she had ever seen before. She had heard rumors of so-called ‘Demon Boils’ roaming the Southern continent, but no Spartan had ever encountered one.

She ordered her soldiers to attack the ravaging sea of worms, encouraging them to be strong for their people, telling them to remember their training and that above all they were Spartans, and would bow to no-one, least of all to Worms.

As the battle raged on, her troops were finally gaining the upper hand, when suddenly, a patch of nearby fungus seamed to come alive, spewing forth more worms. Then another patch of fungus stirred, and another, until all the Xenofungus within sight were producing a seemingly unending wave of mindworms.

Santiago screamed in dismay as her lines began to crumble, and fought against her guards who tried to pull her to the safety of a nearby rover. An hour later she sat in a copter flying away from Sparta Command, seeing the city behind her being devoured by mindworms. First all the humans on this planet had declared war on her, and now the planet itself had turned against her. Blind fury boiled up inside her, and she vowed that she would destroy all who would oppose her, if she had to burn the entire planet to ashes to do so.