Beyond Alpha Centauri :::

[Sovereign]

Planet Zakurnia, Univeralis Prime.

Several dozen Commonwealth citizens were walking past or gazing at the aptly named Tower of Babil centered in the capital megapolis of Chronopolis. Hundreds of stories tall and made out of a blend between Neutronium and Crystalis, two materials developed within the past century and known only to the University Commonwealth of States, it stands as the center of UCS government. It literally reaches towards the heavens as a blend of sapphire bluish crystalline panels superimposed over a green-grey tinted neutronium alloy superstructure. Several clouds could be seen plowing through the tower, splitting into several smaller clouds. A huge flag with the University's modern interstellar symbol waves in the morning sea breeze. A engraved sign at a twenty meter tall statue of Academician Randius Zakharov standing near the Tower of Babil grand entrance proclaims, " 'Man is always destined to reach and tame each successive frontier.' Academician Randius Zakharov, July 4, 2606."

Floor 850 of Tower of Babil

A man dressed in a rose red uniform with gold cuffs and collar sits down in a chair chiseled out of synthetic sapphire. The top of the chair arcs over his head in an oval pattern, extending from the bottom of the seat. The man is solid built, with a neatly trimmed beard, and has a grin that could put the most stiff person at ease. He touches a certain spot on his crystalline desk defined by arcing edges, and a transparent holo-panel materializes out of thin air. He gestures at several holo-panels on the screen, bringing up "Today's Agenda" and proceeds to read the first news. An aide rushes in the room, shouting "Academician Randius, we have urgent and unexpected news from our explorer battleship, the UCSS Magellan! This was recorded a mere hour ago." and then hands a disc to Randius. He arched an eyebrow, and nods at the aide, "Thank you. Please keep me posted on updates on this situation." then inserts the disc into the desk, and the aide leaves. The room transforms to a real-time view of the bridge of the Magellan as recorded on the disc.

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

Captain Corliss sat in the expansive bridge of the state of the art Darwin-class UCSS Magellan. Several crew personnel were manned at their stations, gathering data of the star system being surveyed. The star was named Roving, which had good potential for encountering intelligent life, with a high potential for civilization or colonies.

"Captain! We detected an alien relay station in this system. Shall we examine it further?"

"Affirmative. Proceed."

The Magellan proceeded to examine the relay station throughoutly, and discovered encrypted tranmissions relayed in and out of it. The pre-sentient computers on the Magellan proceeded to attempt to break the encryptions, but due to the complex encryptions, and very little experience, only a handful of tranmissions were successfully hacked into.

Corliss inquired of the woman, "Helmswoman Sara, are you certain? Could you find out what the tranmissions mean or its contents?"

"From what the language tanks and linguist sub-processors could analyze, it's clear that there is a human faction presence in this system, who call themselves the Protectorate of Man. No further information could be gleaned from the tranmissions other than idle chatter. The relay station has re-cloaked and we cannot establish their new location for the time being."

"Shall we attempt first contact, sir?"

"Sara, I'd prefer to observe them some more, to be certain that they will be a benevolent people, rather than some war-like faction. We learned so painfully that advanced technology in the wrong hands has grave and dire consquences. And in addition, the final decision rests with Randius."

Another crewmember shouts, "Our cloaking device suffered a major surge. Nothing our dampeners can't handle. Hold on, a Procterate vessel has detected us!"

Captain Corliss stands up heavily and tugs his uniform at the hips. "Engineer Eric, hail that vessel and dictate our peaceful intentions of exploration and peace."

"No response sir, and they are headed on a direct course for us! They are powering up their weaponary, which seem to be of the particle type!"

Corliss, a veteran of first contact, knows such belligrence from contact with several minor factions and alien species. He orders the ship ready for battle and retreat. The sleek Magellan pivots around, its twin FTL engines powering up for FTL transit. The Proctectorate vessel fires its particle cannon and barely misses the Magellan's mid-section. A second burst hits the underside of the engineering hull, delaying the FTL transit initation.

Eric shouted, "Captain, our engineering hull has suffered a direct hit! Repairs are proceeding as we speak."

"Tatical officer Valerie, return fire at the vessel. Try and slow them down to allow us time to escape!"

The Magellan fired several Xaos Swordfish missles towards the Protectorate vessel, and the effect was spectular. Holes appeared throughout the Procterate nanotech hull, and several more appeared as more Xaos Swordfishes shattered on its hull. The nanites attempted to patch up the damage, but several Xaos pellets made it through to the energy systems of the vessel, disrupting them and the weapon systems.

Eric yelled, "Sir, our engineers inform us that repairs are sufficient for FTL transit!"

"Sara, engage it now! What the hell?" Another Protectorate ship joined the fray, firing several energy beams at the Magellan. The bridge explodes around Corliss in a shower of shattered panels, sparks, and people being thrown about. Corliss felt something warm on his head and realizes its blood after wincing as he wipes it with his hand.

"Bloody hell! Damn these Proctectorate bastards! They don't want us knowing their whereabouts or existence, huh? Well, it'll take a lot more than that to take us down!"

Just after Corliss swore, the engines flared to life and Magellan transited to side-space, the 5th dimension where FTL and quantum tunneling takes place. The un-crippled Protectorate vessel began to pursue the Magellan, but lost it on sensors when the Magellan finally engaged its secondary cloaking field.

****************************************
Randius Office, Tower of Babil, floor 850

The room darkened and reverted to its original state.

Randius swore under his breath, "Another hostile faction? One that seems to be at par with us in weaponary and defenses? Just great..."

He calls in the aide and informs her that he is to be cleared of all appointments for the day, so that he could review the events from the Magellan.

****************************************
2 LY from Roving

The bridge was cleared of most debris, yet the smell of smoke and scorched metal remained.

"Captain, our FTL is failing. We have to transit into Real-space immediately, our ship cannot hold up much longer."

"Agreed. Commence repairs immediately."

The Magellan de-accelerated into Real-Space, with one of its twin engines, damaged from the battle, venting plasma. Teams of engineers suited up in EVA suits to inspect the damage to the Magellan, and found it to be slightly better than expected.

"Captain, we don't have sufficient resources onboard to complete repairs to our FTL drive."

"Sara, not even with our resource tanks onboard?"

"No, sir."

"Very well, this leaves me with no choice but to broadcast a distress signal. Open a channel to Randius in my Ready-Room."

**************************************
Randius Office, Tower of Babil, floor 850

Randius heard the chirping of an tranmission, and opened up the "Tranmission Uplink" from the holo-screen. Captain Corliss came on-view. He then informed Randius of the distress signal. Randius nods, "That is approved. However, if you encounter any hostile Protectorate vessels, or any other hostile ships and the Magellan cannot fight back or repel the enemy, initate procedure Omega-1."

"Understood Provost." Corliss then gives the UCS salute, a fist to the left chest and a bowing of the head.

******************************************
2 LY from Roving


The Magellan begins transmitting a distress signal, hoping for the best.

[Lonestar]

The San Jacinto, Roving

The Light Crusier San Jacinto shook as a volley of missiles tore through the hull like tissue paper. Being of the last Generational "Smart Materials" constuction and not true Nanotech, the reports came in rapidly of hull breachs across the ship.

The Captain ordered a return fire, and the San Jacinto's engines groaned as it powered up it's now damged weapons system.

"Sir," The Tactical officer shouted from his station, "The Moosebrugger is joining us." The smaller Destroyer flew in, firing "Buck shot" plasma shards at the enemy vessel. A hunk of it's hull blew off.

The enemy's ships Nacelles, They still use Bussard Ramjets? Very Primative. the captain thought irrelavently, began to glow. Soon it disappeared from real-space. The Moosebrugger gave pursuit.

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

The Moosebrugger

"Captain, the Enemy Ship," It had been identified as Chironian but not the faction yet, "Is engaging a cloaking generator. However over, it's Bussard Ramjets are leaving a Magnetic "scoop" big enough to track. Pursue?"

"Break off as if we lost them, engage cloaking device, and come around wide before we follow it's trail again." He turned to the Comm Officer. "Inform Admiral DuGalle what I am doing."

"Sir, Chironian Vessel is dropping into Real Space."

"Enter Real Space through it's wake, we don't want to be detected."

"It's broadcasting a distress beacon. Should we hail them?"

"No." The Captain pause. "Send a narrow Band message to Roving. Resquest for help. I believe the Goliath class Battleship Cold Harbor is in orbit, and we could use her Dosi Hulls and Weapons if things get rough. Then...."

There was another pause. "Get within 100 km for maximum effectiveness of Plasma Shard Buckshot. Then destroy them."

[Frankychan]

Hive Corvette Skipfire
En route to Hive deep space ship dock

The Skipfire, having recently just left system LP 658-2, was escorting the Sliver to a Hive deep space ship dock to do a more thorough analysis of the Protectorate dead. Travelling in real space, it would take only a standard hour to get to the ship dock from spacestation Dragon.

The captain, obviously not thrilled about his duties of "baby-sitting", slumped in his chair on the bridge. Suddenly, the comm-officer turned to face the captain.

"Sir, we are receiving a distress transmission not far from here."

The human captain, unfazed, didn't turn to look at the officer.

"So what? Whoever they are, they're none of our concern."

"Sir, the message signature is of University origin."

The captain, human, immediately sat at attention. Hive command ordered all ships to be aware of any message from the University. Apparently the Emperor wanted to make sure he contacted his old University of Planet allies.

"Helm, lay an intercept course to the source of transmission."

The Fran helmsman turned around, "Sir, what about the Sliver?"

"Tell them we're following Hive command's long standing order completing Emperor Yang's wish to find the University."

Seconds later, the Hive corvette Skipfire engaged in FTL, headed for the University distress call.
--------------------
Unknown University Ship
2 light years from Roving

The Skipfire exited from FTL space into real space without fanfare moments later. Just a short distance away was the unknown ship sending out the University-signatured message. The ship, although sending out a University distress call, was nothing like the captain ever encountered.

"Sir," the comm-officer said, "ship ahead is still sending distress call with University-signature. Awaiting your orders."

The captain, Pietro Fassini, stroked his mouth.

"Get ready to transmit message."

* * *
To: Unknown vessel
From: Hive Corvette Skipfire

Unknown vessel, you have sent a distress signal and we have answered it. You are transmitting with a University-signature. Is your ship from the University? Please respond. If you do not, your ship will be destroyed.

[Sovereign]

2 Light Years from Roving
UCSS Magellan

"Captain Corliss! Our sensors detect an unknown vessel approaching us, in response to our distress signal!"

Captain Corliss wondered, could it be the Hive after centuries?

"Sara, we are recieving an hail from the unknown vessel. It is identifying itself as a Hive ship, named Skipfire. Shall we read the hail and respond?"

Corliss stood up hurriedly, and the excitement in the atomsphere is palatable, contact with the Hive after centuries of silence! "Do so, inform the Skipfire we shall recieve their tranmission and our reply."

*************************************
to: Hive ship Skipfire
From: UCSS Magellan

This is Captain Corliss of the University Commonwealth of States ship the UCSS Magellan. We have just been seriously wounded in a skirmish with the Protectorate of Man upon discovering one of their systems while we were on a peaceful exploration and survey mission.

Academician Randius Zakharov has established a protocol of searching for the Hive after the great Exodus from Chiron. He will be very pleased that this mission shall be complete upon this contact with the Hive.

I am now fowarding the frequency of the University, and Randius's frequency so that hopefully your Esteemed Emperor Yang may contact him and re-establish our ancient alliance from our first days on Chiron.

May the Hive and U.C.S. fare and prosper well.

*****************************************
Corliss sat back in his seat and silently prayed his thanks to chance that this historical meeting occured directly under his command. He motioned to Helmswoman Sara, to initate another tranmission, direct for Randius.

*****************************************
Univeralis Prime
Tower of Babil

Randius was studying some diagrams of a project code-named Promethus, when suddenly the desk turned a reddish tint. Randius swore, not liking the disturbance to his concentration, but when he saw the "Priority One-Three" message he sat up straight, too quickly. He began to feel woozy and a little dizzy, but after it stabilized, he opened his secure communications channel and accessed the "Priority One-Three" message.

Corliss's face appeared on the holo-screen, and he uttered "We have finally found the Hive after almost three centuries. A Hive ship has come to our aid, much to my crew and my antoishment. We would have never expected such a turn of events, a new faction that is hostile, and then the Hive shows up."

His mood greatly and instanteously improved, Randius grinned, "Thank you Captain for fulfuilling this mission. Your duty and diligence shall be noted in my personal log."

"Thank you. May your flame of leadership be an example to us all, Randius." Corliss gave the UCS salute and the screen darkened and faded into thin air.

Randius summoned his personal aide, Mina. She scurried into the crystalline chambers, and stopped next to Randius. He grinned at her tall atheletic figure with brown hair, soul piercing brown eyes, and wore a dress fit for a princess. Randius remarked to Mina, "This is one of the four greatest days in my seemingly endless lifetime."

"The Hive re-contact?"

Randius nodded, "Yes, indeed. I have a request of you to summon the Diplomatic Corps to prepare for the Hive contact."

Mina smiled and walked briskly outside of the Leader Chambers.

Randius turned around and walked to a crystal panel, and touched it. The crystalline panel transformed into nothingness to reveal a window. He gazed at the green star of Univeralis Prime arcing overhead in the violet-lavender Zakurnia sky. The crystalline and metallic structures of Chronopolis lay out far downwards, and several wispy clouds were drifting and dividing as they pass the tower on both sides, a thousand feet below. "What a beautiful day for a historic event," thought Randius.

[Lonestar]

The Cold Harbor

The huge 2.1km Battleship that had recently nearly started a war with the GHE flew through it's tunnel in Null-space.

"Captain," The Astrogater said "We are coming within 2 million kilometers of the Chironian vessel. We...ah hell."

"What is it, Ensign?

"Hive Corvette is chattering with them. Niether ship has detected the Moosebruggeryet."

"Bring us into real space. Tactical, upon exiting N-Space, open fire on the Chironian's weapons and engine systems. Your choice of weapons, but keep them alive."

A white Mist appeared not far from the Magellen and Skipfire. The Huge Olive-Green Cold Harbor entered real space, immediately fireing it's plasma cannons at the Magellen's weapons and engines. A swarm of missiles rose up from the battered ship. Gatling LaserCIWS blew away the majority of them. The Cold Harbor shook as several missiles impacted the ship.


The comm officer spoke "Skipper, we're being hailed by both the Chironian ship and the Hive vessel."


Captain Bradley scratched his chin and said. "Tell the Hive vessel to 'Suck on them'".

"Sir?"

"You heard me Lt."

The Comm officer muttered as she banged away at the text console. "And the Chironians?"


"Begin Transmitting. Chironian Vessel, you have entered Protectorate space with Malicious intent. Upon being approached for taking into custody, you opened fired upon our ships. You will power down your weapons and engines and prepare to be towed to a impoundment yard where you will be held under Protectorate Salvage Laws. End Transmission."

"Hive vessel is hailing us again, the Captain insists on speaking to us"

"Tell him his Emperor can 'suck on them' too. Exact words, Lt."

"Captain," Tactical shouted, "The Moosebrugger is de-cloaking directly behind the Hive vessel. The Chironian ship is useing manuevering thrusters to try to get away...it's..."

"Comm, send this message to the chironian vessel..." Captain Bradley glanced at Tactical.

"We're reading "Magellen" off it's hull, sir."

"..The Chironian Vessel Magellen. We have a squadron of Battleships at Roving. It is unlikely that they will be able to fight us all off. We are substantially closer to this site than the Hive is. If they surrender now, we will detain their crew humanely until such a time we can return them to their respective Nation."

The Bradley sat back down on his chair.

"Now we wait."

[Lonestar]

The Palace. Nuevo San Antonio (Beta Hydri 4)

War Minister Kolasklar and President Stone of Alchemax, the largest corporation in Protectorate Space sat waiting outside the Lord Protector's office. The Large Mahogeny doors swung open and out skittered two 1 meter tall reptile Bipeds. The One with the more elaborately colored Jacket-they hated Human temperatures- swung both eye turrets to Kolasklar and said "Good Day Minisssster Kolasssssklar."

"Good day to you Ambassador Atvar."

The Dosi made a gesture with his claws and the two skittered away.

Kolasklar and Stone walked in. "Did I miss something Important Excellancy?" Kolasklar inquired.

Ian got up from behind his massive desk and sat on one of the chairs in the Oval-shaped office. He indicated Stone and Kolasklar should do the same.

"Just covering all bases Nishant. President Stone, could to see you again."

"I am honored, your excellancy."

"I bet."

Stone had th appearence of a blond-haired man in his middle age, although he was well over 200 years old. A small "slot" on the left side of his head allowed him to jack into the Planetary Datalinks directly, which creeped out Ian to no end. He didn't show it, of course.

"Mr. Stone, tell me, how is the "Virtual Unreality" program progressing?"

"It's...that's why I came here to tell you in person, your Excellancy. We've made a, er, breakthrough."

"You have?"

"Virtual Unreality" was a top secret joint Alchemax-Protectorate project to tap into a parallel universe. Stone held up a small Holo generator and a slab of metal appeared, glowing faintly.

"We recovered this from the pocket Universe we accesed."

"Oh good. A piece of Metal. Next time I'm confronting Emperor Yang, I'll go 'Oh yeah? Well I have a piece of metal!!'"

"It's rather more than that sir. It's...a Time Machine."

There was a pause in the room. "Holy ****." Ian said. "Stone, that's impossible."

"Like FTL travel your excellancy?"

"Touche. Can we use it?"

"No, we can't." Stone looked chestfallen. Undoubtably, he had been using it to plan to remove me, Ian mused. Little Bastard.

"Why's it glowing?"

"It's reacting to chronoparticles, Excellancy. All FTL drives give off negilable amounts, but something within a 20 ly radius is giving off a HUGE amount of it."

"20 lys? That's impressive. Couldn't it be just picking up all the chronoparticles of FTL drives combined?"

"No sir."

There was another pause. Ian turned to Minister Kolasklar. "Inform General McCarty to send a message out to all ships, have them..."

Stone cleared his throat. "What, Mr. Stone?"

"Excellancy, none of our ships has the sensors to detect chronoparticles more than a 100 km away. Perhaps we could ask the Dosi...?"

"And have Emperor Harresh give me a tongue lashing about hding 'Virtual Unreality' from him? No. Okay, fine. We'll sitback and wait. If there is any change, I don't care if it starts to rust, tell me. Capiche?"

"Yes your excellancy."

[Silence]

[b] Cappela [b]
SoG Battlecruiser Spacer’s Hope
Operation Flaming Sword part 2b

As the Morgans dealt with the planetary defenses, the Soldiers of God 1st fleet moved to find the stragglers of the combined TAF fleet that had fleet out sytem. Waves of fighter craft were dispatched from their mother ships to scan the area. Also several battlecrusiers and their escorts split off from the main body to search on their own. As the Spacer’s Hope moved towards the systems outer edge. The crew was listening to the real time communications of the ground troops as they hit the surface. On the bridge Captain John Mantel, veteran for 19 years sat listening to the prayers of an armored platoon that was
getting ready to go into battle. He sat drumming his fingers against the arm rest of his chair, when a scanner officer said, :”Captain, picking something up on the scanners, looks like an enemy battlecruiser coasting, with low power. Sir they are on intercept vector.”

“Guns, I want you to get sensors data and manually move the guns into firing postion, don’t go active with the targeting yet. Lets surprise these suckers, sensors are they in range to fire?”

“Sir they are in their own range of their ion beams, looks like they got a clear shot at our communication array.”

“Roger, weapons what is our status?”

“Turrets, 5 and 12 are ready to fire, the rest will be ready in 20 seconds.”

“Sir, enemy is powering up weapon systems.”

“Helm evasive maneuvers, targeting go active, all weapons open fire!” The two capital chaos beam turrets fired at the same moment the space drives on the battlecruiser went active and sent it on a wild course. The beam drove into the fore part of the enemy battlecruiser. It return fired with its Ion cannons which sent a beam of energy past the shields and driving into turret number 2 destroying it and the 5 member crew that ran it.
The battlecruiser was also firing its pulse cannons and several gauss shots which create moderate damage all along the Soldiers of God warship, the destroyers that would of been
escorting the Spacer’s Hope were off searching for bodies in the debris field left from the battle. Mantel wiped a some blood of his chin as the rest of the turrets on the battlecruiser opened fire sending out beams of devastation that ripped holes through the port side of the TAF ship. 3 of the beams cut through the part that was holding one of the battlecruiser’s modules on, and the 4th one hit it dead on, going right through the middle of it. Causing it to explode. The SoG warship zoomed outward and leaving the crippled battlecruiser behind, trying to dodge the gauss shots that were firing out to hit it.

“Sir enemy ship is accelerating towards us, weapons still hot,”

“We gave them a breather but they won’t to stop do they eh?” Mantel said, he was planning on making temporary repairs and then coming back to finish the job. But if the enemy was going to come to him, fine.

“Helm bring us on course, 9 by 6 by 2 full burn,” the SoG ship turned around killing its inertia and brought a full broadside against it. Crossing the 2 it used to be called, it was rarely done in this day and age with 3 dimensional fight, but it could still be effective. Both sides fired again at the same time, 2 gauss shell hit and did minor damage to the heavily armed drive section of the Spacer’s Hope . 8 shots from the SoG ship hit and caused the foreword compartments of the TAF battlecrusier to crumple as the stress of accelerating and the damage proved to much for it. Then as the ship was out of control and sailing pass the SoG ship, the TAF battlecrusier took a hard pounding as Chaos beam fire just poured into its crippled hull. The battlecrusier simply wasn’t designed to take that kind of abuse for this long and a string of secondary explosions from where the main reactor was started appearing on the hull of the enemy ship.

After it was all said and done for, Mantel gave a quick prayer of thanks to the Lord and went back to where the damaged ships were going to be and having people work on field repairs.

Terra Nova
Operation Flaming Sword part 2a

As the transports from the main Morgan fleet began to drop the Soldiers of God lead the way as always. Their shuttle designed to take the maxim amount of punishment. On board the shuttle carrying the first tank platoon of the 3d Armored Regiment, the head of the platoon, Lt. Jerry Young was listening for the tell tale sounds of HVMs. The Book stated that one hostile landings the shuttle pilot was to flush his racks of Hyper Velocity Missiles on the landing zone even if it appeared cold. He heard the sound, and smiled, they must be close then, as the missiles streaked away and devastated the landing area that was where the Yankee Company was landing. They were going to be the first hovertanks landed and were going to support helping the perimeter be formed while the rest of the transports get in. As the shuttle hit the ground, he touched the shoulder of the driver of his tank, and as the landing doors opened, he climbed back into the tank and shut the hatch and send a order to the rest of his squad to have follow him. The invasion had begun for the ground ponders at last....

[Mr. President]

Guess who's coming to dinner?

Michael Hsiang, the Prime Minister, ate slowly, eyes darting around and around the huge circular table. The steak was prime Firaxian beef, one of his favorites, but there was too much to think about to truly enjoy it. As soon as he had some free time, Hsiang thought, he would pay a visit to Bobby’s Steak and Grill. These days, though, government officials were recognized everywhere they went. Then there was the Secret Service who continually tailed him. Too much trouble, he resolved, and turned his attention back to the guests.

He caught the eye of President Foster and she nodded, almost imperceptibly. The banquet was going well in that nothing specifically bad had happened. The Terrans and the Morganites had been placed at opposite ends of the table, with as many people between them as possible. There had been a few glares on the way in, but no shots fired so far. Good. Legend told of a banquet during the Spartan-Peacekeeper conflict in which no fewer than sixteen had visited the hospital. To Hsiang’s left was the Gaian delegation. He noticed Research Secretary Elandriss Vecchio devouring her meat enthusiastically. Gaians and vegetarianism were associated in many minds, but Hsiang had seen enough that nothing surprised him any more. The Foreign Secretary from Concordia was dressed like royalty, in vast, flowing purple robes. He lifted his fork, and the glint from his numerous rings shone directly in the Prime Minister’s eyes.

Hsiang half-listened to the portly Morganite Physkon finishing an anecdote. The Drone Republic’s Secretary of State held his head in his hands, laughing to the point of tears, as the Morganite’s deep voice concluded, “Then he said, ‘Look, I only want one. Can’t you separate them?’” Everyone within two seats of Physkon laughed even harder than before. Having missed the beginning, middle, and most of the end of the story, Hsiang nodded and smiled politely. He did not think the Morganite had heard him not laughing. As the chuckling subsided, the Prime Minister said, “Mr. Physkon, are you planning to stay on for the Autumn Festival?”

The richly dressed diplomat smiled. “Well, if your hospitality is always like this, count me in!” Hsiang laughed. Physkon rose from his seat, and the table gradually fell silent. “A toast!” the Morganite proclaimed. “To the best hosts in the Borderlands! Cheers!”

Glasses were raised and emptied. As waiters hurried to replenish the delegates’ drinks, Hsiang glanced at the Spartans. They were the least colorful of all his guests, most wearing military uniforms with at little more than a shoulder plume or armband for decoration. Their delegation was second in size only to that of the Peacekeepers, Foreign Affairs Officer Starks joining up with the highest-ranked delegates to the World of Trees, Ambassador Leta Holms and Captain Zak VanDern. After the embassy incident, they had requested and been granted permission to bring their own weapons into the Hall of Lights.

“We need you to keep this as low-key as possible,” Ambassador Holms had urged him. “We’re flying some investigators out tomorrow, and the fewer people who know about this, the better.”

Hsiang had indeed tried to hush it up. Nothing had even appeared in the Firaxian media yet, and no-one at the table knew the first thing about it. As the dishes for the main course were cleared, he hazarded a glance at Ambassador Rachel Kells of the Earth Coalition. After the banquet they planned to discuss expansion of agricultural co-operation. Firaxian crops and trees were much in demand on Earth, with some areas still suffering from the depredations of ancient war. Hot on the heels of that meeting the Cabinet would be closeted with Mr. Physkon, to hammer out a broad trade agreement.

The difficulty of the current situation did not escape the Prime Minister. He was trading with Earthmen and Morganites even as other Earthmen and Morganites shot at each other. But even if it cost him everything, he would keep the World of Trees out of it. Hsiang believed that nothing was all-powerful, not even hatred.

“So, Senator Vecchio,” he said. “I do hope you have time to visit the Jagged Edge National Park this year. It’s been a particularly good season for the magnigoths, and the flame trees! You simply must see it.”

[History Guy]

Bows of Burning Gold

Terra Nova, Largest Planet in Capella System

Admiral Antonio Vallachi was victorious. The Terran Alliance fleet stationed in Capella had been badly defeated, and much of had been it destroyed. Morganite and Soldier of God losses were heavy, but nothing compared to the those of the surprised Terrans. They were more prepared here, however, than at Callisto, and so they were able to inflict heavier losses on their attackers. After destroying the two prize ships of the fleet, both battlecruisers, the survivors of the Terran fleet had scattered, and were now fighting in a guerilla style all over the Capella system. Some smaller Morganite escort ships had been caught and destroyed, and one transport, the one which carried the 2nd Division of the 3rd Corps, was actually mortally struck, and the 2nd Division had to scramble for the escape pods and were now scattered all over Terra Nova, but luckily no casualties had been reported. Now Antonio Vallachi was awaiting the orders to take the remaining transports down to Terra Nova for the land attack.

Admiral Vallachi had just spoken via watchvid to the 2nd Corps commander, Major General Shimonseki, overall commander of land troops. A message from old Marchand was soon to be expected. The plan of battle was simple. Instead of moving about the whole of Terra Nova, the two corps of the Morganite army would center their attack on the center of the Terra Nova defense, the colonial offices. The plan was for the 3rd Corps to move on the left flank of the Terran line while the Soldier of God mercenaries were to move on the right flank, and 2nd Corps moved in on the center, and so while the 2nd attacked the center, the two flanks would be rolled up by the 3rd and the mercenaries. It was the standard plan of attack, but it was always quite effective.

“Approaching the Terran battlecruiser, sir,” reported an officer to Commodore Nicholson. Nicholson voiced his thanks and made his way over. On the screen before him sat a giant, but wounded Terran battlecruiser, the equivalent of a dreadnought in the Morganite fleet. Though it looked menacing enough, it was totally harmless, the cannon and reactor sections of the ship had been blown out by a squadron of Morganite destroyers earlier in the battle. It was surrounded by hundreds of Morganite vessels while attempting to return to Terra Nova. Now most of the Morganite fleet had converged around it, and so as large as it was, it was dwarfed by the giant wall of Morganite vessels.

“Identify yourself, Terran battlecruiser,” said the Commodore into the link that had been set up with the defenseless battlecruiser.

“Terran Capella Fleet Flagship Survivor, commanded by Commodore Garfield. We ask for terms of surrender,” came the response.

“Is Admiral Manson aboard?” asked the Commodore.

“Affirmative. But he is dead. He died due to a breach on the bridge.” The bridge? As Vallachi looked out at the menacingly large battlecruiser, sitting dead in the air, he saw terrible damage. The cannon sections had been torn out by the fire from several Morganite destroyers, and the reactors at the stern had been blown to pieces by several missile launching ships. Despite this mechanical carnage, Vallachi saw little damage to the bridge. But he could picture what had probably happened. Suicide was a mandatory thing for Terran officials and higher-ranking generals when they were in danger of capture. It was a bit like Hellenistic generals falling on their swords, really. The Terran communications officer then said, “We ask for your terms of surrender.”

“Immediate surrender. You and your comrades shall be treated according to the same Geneva Code that you yourselves act under. We will tow your ship to port as soon as Terra Nova falls, and if it does not you shall be taken to nearest Morganite colony as prisoners of war. You will probably be exchanged for Morganite prisoners from Callisto.”

“These terms are excepted.”

“Moving in for lock on.” As Admiral Vallachi took his seat beside Commodore Nicholson, his ship made it’s way forward to the Terran battlecruiser and locked itself onto the Terran ship’s side. The Terrans were now prisoners of war. A boarding party from the Morganite ship was soon sent in to collect personal weapons, to confirm the Admiral’s death (be it due to a breach or a self-inflicted wound), and to escort the Terran Commodore to the Morganite ship’s bridge for interrogation. Several minutes later, a message came from General Marchand informing Admiral Vallachi to make the landings.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sergeant-Major Terry Rowlands suddenly realized that he was now the commander of Company A, 8th Volunteer Regiment, 3rd Brigade, 2nd Division, 3rd Corps of the Morganite Army. As he made his way around the escape pod, he counted out the heads of the men inside. There were only 94 instead of the original 97. He was, of course, number 95, but where were Captain Stoker and Lieutenant Baltimore? They were hopefully not dead, of course. He saw Private Stubbs sitting cross-legged on the floor, smoking his pipe. “Private Stubbs, where is the Captain and the Lieutenant? Do you know?”

“Sergeant-Major, sir,” cried Stubbs, jumping up from the floor, “I did see them, sir. When our transport was struck, sir, they ran for the wrong escape pod, sir. They are now with Company C, I believe.”

“Oh blast!” cried Sergeant-Major Rowlands, “I suppose I’m now the Company commander, at least until we run into Captain Stoker or Lieutenant Baltimore down there.” This was all very distressing. The transport carrying 2nd Division, 3rd Corps had been struck by enemy fire, and had to be abandoned. The escape pods were launched carrying the whole of the 2nd Division inside, but there was only a single company (from twelve regiments of three brigades) to each pod, and so things were bound to get messed up. The escape was so disorderly, it seemed, that even the Captain had not recognized his own company in the rush to get his men in a pod.

Sergeant-Major Rowlands ignored Private Cadwallader who sat near Stubbs, laughing ridiculously, and waltzed over towards one of the viewing portals. Terra Nova below looked so large to Rowlands, but he trusted in Mr. Gregor, the pilot, to get his pod to the designated area for his company, the left flank of the Terran line. Everything would be fine unless at the last moment one of those large artillery guns down on Terra Nova took out the pod. Rowlands shivered at the very thought, and then lost his footing and fell backwards. The fall from the transport to Terra Nova was suddenly getting very rickety, and as Rowlands watched, the pod fell to Terra Nova at a rapidly accelerating speed. Finally, the pod slammed into the dirt of Terra Nova, and Sergeant-Major Rowlands fixed his oxy-mask over his face and prepared to open the doors for the attack.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Major General Shimonseki Morimoto, commander of the 2nd Corps, suddenly became the first Morganite ever to set foot on the soil of Terra Nova, or any Capella planet or satellite for that matter. As the doors of transport one swung down, Shimonseki emerged slowly out onto Terra Nova. To his side was his aide, the fresh-faced young Major Childs. Childs was a good name for the fellow, he scarcely looked to be over twenty years of age. Shimonseki somewhat expected to see hordes of Terran troops waiting for him as the doors opened, quite like how poor old Marmion had encountered on Callisto some months before, but here he saw no-one, just a desert. Instead of sand, however, this desert was filled with rocks and hills. Shimonseki motioned for his men to slowly follow him.

As Shimonseki slowly made his way to the shelter of an overhanging rock, Brigadier Bronksi followed. “I don’t like this,” he said, “it’s too quiet. No Terrans about. We shouldn’t have waited so long after defeating their fleet up there, we should have made our landings immediately and caught them off guard. That’s why the Callisto plan was so much better than this one.” Bronski was right in a way. It was far too quiet. Shimonseki would have expected to hear some gunfire or the roar of artillery by now, but he heard absolutely nothing. It shouldn’t be this way, should it?

“You are right, Bronski, but I did not make the plan. Marchand knows what he’s doing, and I would trust him, but I don’t think this delay was part of his plan. The Terrans had far more time to organize, and unless they are run by total fools, which I doubt, they have used their time well,” replied Shimonseki, “let us climb over to that ridge, there, we should be able to see the whole field.” Shimonseki, Bronski, and Childs scuttled over to a long ridge overlooking much of the area. In back of them, three divisions of Morganite infantry climbed out of the two transports nestled in the rocks. As they jogged into position behind the General and the Brigadier, Brigadiers Markuson and Toyamo made their way to join the group. Bronski commanded the 1st Division, Markuson the 2nd, and old Toyamo the 3rd. “Brigadier,” Shimonseki said to Bronski, pointing at the brigade steadily advancing behind them, “is this Colonel Lacey’s brigade?”

“Yes, sir, that is Colonel Lacey’s brigade.”

“We’ll have Lacey wheel round those rocks over there and see if he can locate the artillery batteries or the hovertanks before they are put into action.”

“Yes, sir.” Bronski motioned at an aide to run down to Lacey to give him the order.

“Now, here we see on our right the Soldier of God corps amassing for the attack on the Terran flank. The only problem is that we do not see the Terrans. They are probably all behind these damned boulders strewn across the field. The problem on the left is this, the 3rd Corps which was suppose to land here is missing one division. We fear that when it’s transport was hit, the escape pods landed all over the area, and so for all we know we might actually have some companies behind the lines of the enemy and the like. To make matters worse, we’ve lost contact with the 2nd Division entirely, though we know it’s out there, somewhere. The rest of General Colfax’s 3rd Corps has landed in its designated zone and will soon be heading towards the Colonial building over there somewhere,” began Shimonseki, motioning about with his baton, which he firmly clutched with his gloved hand.

“Now, we, the 3rd Corps,” he continued, “are all landed here in these rocks, thoughtfully provided by nature, it seems. These rocks will protect our men as we make our way up to the colonial buildings, but it will also, unfortunately, act as a shield for our enemy. Though we cannot as yet see those Terrans, they are definetly out there, huddled in those rocks, waiting for us. Here’s the situation. Bronski’s 1st Division shall move in for the center, with the exception of Colonel Lacey’s brigade, which will make a flanking movement through that rocky pass over there to locate the enemy batteries and hovertanks. Brigadier Markuson, you, sir, shall move your division in on Bronski’s right. I’m afraid Brigadier Toyamo’s boys will take some time in coming up, as they landed one mile behind the drop zone, and the only reason that he is here now as we speak is because he was taken over here via rover. So the 3rd Division will come in later directly behind the 1st to support the 1st in action. Is this clear?”

“Yes, sir,” responded Brigadier Markuson. The other brigadiers responded in similar fashions.

“What the tactics of the 3rd Corps and the Soldiers of God are I don’t know. I do know that they will be driving in the Terran flank…that is if we can locate their flanks in these damned rocks in the first place! You boys have the tough assignment, you have to drill a hole right through the Terran frontlines. I am confident, however, that with such fine officers as you in command of my divisions, we shall win the day. Now please, sirs, go to your respected divisions and give the orders to advance.” The brigadiers made their ways back to their divisions, and General Shimonseki began to walk back down the slope to advance his men. Major Childs followed close behind him.

“General Shimonseki, sir,” asked Childs, quietly, scuttling up alongside the general.

“Yes, Major Childs?”

“General, sir, may I ask, sir, what is the best way to go, sir?”

“The best way to—go?”

“Well, sir, if one is surrounded by enemy troops, should one surrender, or go down fighting?”

Shimonseki stopped in his tracks and thought on this. “I would think,” he began, “I would think that rather than surrender I should fight to the death, but that is my personal opinion. If I am caught I would be put to interrogation, and then I should reveal secrets that I should not reveal, even if I did not will to do so. And so, I personally would prefer to go down fighting rather than surrender if I was surrounded. Out in a blaze of glory, if you like.”

“I hear most of our brothers on Callisto felt the same way some weeks ago when Callisto was retaken.”

“Yes, so I hear.” Shimonseki then made his way down the slope, and pulled out his shredder pistol. He then called out “Advance!” The waves of Morganite soldiers in back of him started jogging forward, slowing only when they approached large, sharp rocks. Shimonseki watched his line of men make their way up the ridge, like a human wave hitting a beachhead. All of the sudden, an explosion in the center of the front line catapulted some of his men into the air, ripping them to pieces. He noticed a hovertank, long and sleek suddenly zooming forward from the rocks toward his line, firing directly into his men, cutting several of them down. One man was only slightly injured, but his pressure suit was torn and before Shimonseki’s eyes his body expanded like a bag full of air, suddenly exploding like a balloon struck by a pin. It was a horrible and sickening sight. Shimonseki knew the terrible mistake they’d made. The delay had been much too long, the Terrans were prepared.

The hovertank cut through the air, only several feet above his troops, his men having to duck as it flew above them. A shot tore through an officer’s back, killing him instantly. Another man was struck in the face by a shot from its gun, the shard ripping right through his helmet. It then retreated back into the rocks. “Sir,” cried Childs, “Brigadier Bronski is laying down proximity mines, we’ll have this thing down in no time at all if it comes back.”

“Alright, and have him set up some missile launchers as well, Major.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want all these hovertanks shot down immediately, they are far too dangerous to be left alone. You understand? Destroy them all!” The hovertank returned suddenly, it’s weapons glaring, tearing chunks out of the advancing wall of humanity. Several of the men stopped in their tracks and fired their rifles at the thing, but only slightly wounded the steel. It was then that the hovertank glided over one of the proximity mines. Shimonseki shielded his eyes from the blast, and when he turned back to look he saw the down hovertank, blackened by the explosion, mortally damaged. The top popped up and the captain of the hovertank came out, his arms in the air, hands behind his head in surrender. The Morganite troops riddled him with rifle fire, and as he fell back into his hovertank, about one dozen Morganites climbed down inside to finish off the rest of it’s crew.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Corporal Clarke,” called Sergeant-Major Rowlands, as he observed the alien landscape about him, “have we reached the designated land area, old boy?”

“Negative, sir, ‘fraid not,” replied the Corporal.

“Oh hell.” This made Sergeant-Major Rowlands rather upset. He gave the pilot of the escape pod a little kick in the shin. Not only had the designated land area been missed, but the implications where tremendous. Company A could have landed anywhere on Terra Nova. “Well, Corporal, do you know where we are at all?”

“According to this map, sir, we are over here, and there should be an enemy observation tower over that hill somewhere,” said the Corporal, pointing at a spot on the map he carried.

“Oh hell.” According to the map, not only had Company A, 8th Volunteer Regiment missed the designated landing zones, but they were about 10 miles behind the enemy lines, and a good 20 miles from the designated zone. This was not good at all. “Well, I suppose there is nothing for it but to make for the colonial buildings from the wrong side then. I doubt the Terrans will expect us to turn up in their rear. On the way we can take out that observation tower, I think. Oh bloody heck, this will not look good on our report. I think the pilot will have to be dishonorably discharged. He’ll be the scapegoat, then. What do you say to that, pilot?” The pilot responded with an obscene word. Ah well, it was a no win situation here. All Company A could do was move forward to the colonial buildings.

“Sir,” said the Corporal, after Rowlands’ men trudged on further, “that, I think, is the observation tower.”

“I hope it’s the observation tower, Corporal, because it casts a bloody good impression of one.” They saw the post, sticking up from the ground like a long, thick pole. It stood about 25 feet in the air, and must have been operated by about four Terran officers. “How do you suggest we take this bloody thing down, eh, old thing? You are, after all, our explosives expert.”

About twelve minutes later, the Corporal and several other men, Private Stubbs included, made their way silently (avoiding notice, they hoped) over towards some rocks before the tower, and placed some explosives and explosive charges in the rocks, figuring that they were near enough to the tower that the explosion would be noticed, and that the Terrans would get very excitable about it, and run out, and, consequently, get caught. After Corporal Clarke lit the charges, he and his comrades ran back over to Sergeant-Major Rowlands, who was hiding behind some large, sharp rocks. “Alright, ten seconds, sir, starting now. Ten…nine…”

“Jolly good, Corporal,” said the Sergeant Major, giving the poor fellow a hearty slap on the back.

“Oh yes, sir…five…four…” Suddenly, the charges exploded and the rocks were blown to atoms, and a large cloud of smoke formed about the tower. “Must have started counting late, sir.”

A group of soldiers started scrambling out of the hatchway and charged out of the tower. “Alright,” cried the Sergeant Major, holding up his shredder pistol, “you lot, you’d better surrender, alright? I have a whole company here with me, and if you chuck a shot at me, you’ll all be done in.” The men of Company A suddenly stood up, revealing their numbers. The shocked group of Terrans tossed their guns aside and put their hands behind their heads. The Sergeant Major walked over to investigate them. “Hallo,” he said, “this one has the insignia of a Major General on her armor!”

“Heavens,” said the Corporal, “so she does.”

“You, Terran Major General, why are you not with your men at the Command Nexus, eh? Are you a deserter?”

“No, I was simply checking reports that there were Morganite companies coming up on our rear. I should never have come down here, darn it all,” responded the female Terran general.

“Are you the commander of the Terran army here?” The general refused to answer. “Look woman, answer me now, because if you don’t you’ll have to go through the same interrogation procedure your Commodore Garfield is going through now.”

“Yes, I am the commander of the Terran land forces on Terra Nova.”

The Sergeant Major allowed himself a large, cherubic smile. “Oh, well splendid.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[History Guy]

Chariots of Fire

Terra Nova, Largest Planet in Capella System

“Private Lucas,” called Colonel Lacey, commander of the 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, 2nd Corps, Morganite army, “you get up on that rock over there and tell me what you see. There are reports of Terran marine regiments somewhere about here.”

“Yes, sir,” said the gruff, square faced Private. With a salute, he rushed off to the large rock several hundred yards in the distance. Lacey turned about and heard his brigade jogging onward several yards behind him. Lacey was proud of his men this day. They were all volunteers, green troops, but they had done great things. They had taken down an enemy hovertank, and had knocked out a battery of artillery. Things were going well for Lacey and the 2nd Brigade today.

However, it was then that Private Lucas reached his rock, and took a look over the surrounding terrain. Unfortunately, a shot from a concealed gunner took half of his head off, shards from his helmet sprinkling the rocks nearby. “Oh blast!” cried Lacey. Lacey then made his way through the rugged terrain himself, calling his men to follow him. As he ran, he cocked his shredder pistol.

As he turned at a bend on a rocky knoll, about 100 hundred enemy marines popped themselves up from the rocks. Lacey saw the inscription over an enemy officer’s armor. It read ‘Colonel Helfin, 28th Terran Marine Regiment’. Lacey stopped in his tracks. He turned his head slightly to see if his men were behind him, but though he heard their boots jogging on forward, they were no where in sight. Colonel Lacey was about to put his hands over his head when the Terran colonel gave the order to fire. As the Terran rifles glared before him, he gave out a cry of “huzzah” just to let his men know where he was.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Shimonseki watched as the Terran specialist tumbled over the railing of the 4th floor of the Colonial Buildings, falling some 50 feet to the floor. Major Childs had taken him out with a single shot to the head. This Terran specialist had been in the wings of the 4th floor acting as a sniper, taking out dozens of Morganites as they ran into the building below. He’d chosen a good hiding space as well, but Major Childs had managed to draw him out of the darkness and within range of his rifle. After making sure of the Terran with another shot to the head, Shimonseki waved his shredder pistol in a gesture commanding the men behind him to follow. Shimonseki and Childs jogged on ahead towards the Colonial Headquarters, several regiments of Bronski’s following close behind.

When rounding a bend, the General and his aide found a central corridor leading towards the main headquarters of the colony, with the Colonial Offices at one end of the corridor, and at another end there stood the entrance hatch to the Command Nexus. He signaled to Childs to run down with him to take the offices, and saw that several of Bronski’s men were following.

As he approached the hatch to the colonial office, he heard the movement inside. It was a wild clamor, the secretaries were obviously all scuttling about the office, destroying documents and computer systems. Shimonseki found the hatch to be locked from the inside, but several shots from the pistol of the Major tore the door open, and the sight inside was revealed. The image of secretaries inside was replaced by armed security men, commanded by a gruff looking Colonel with a grisly wound to the face, obviously received freshly. As he held a cloth to staunch his bleeding, he ordered his men to destroy anything useful to the invading Morganites. Shimonseki fired a shot at a burly Terran private with a computer monitor stuffed in his hands. The shot tore through the monitor’s screen and, apparently, slammed into his chest. As this man sank to the floor, a second shot tore through his head, his body falling forward.

The men inside immediately fired back, several Morganites taking slight wounds as they themselves opened fire. A tall, bearded, spectacled Terran official, dressed in a green suit, suddenly pulled a shredder pistol out of a foreign comrade’s hands. This man was the Colonial Magistrate. His first shot struck Shimonseki in the side, giving him a very painful wound. In response, Shimonseki aimed his pistol at the man’s head, but a tall Terran soldier put himself between the two commanders, and Shimonseki’s shot struck his throat, and grazed the Magistrate across the cheek. “General, sir, we must fall back for assistance from Bronski!” called a Morganite officer beside him. The handful of Morganites behind the General was beginning to leave for the main body of men attacking the Command Nexus. As the Morganite officer turned about towards the entrance a shot tore through the back of his head.

Shimonseki reacted by taking a shot at the Terran officer, whose identification badge read ‘COL. GREER’. The Colonel was hit square in the chest, and he fell backward, tumbling over a dying Terran private. Childs also fired again, a shot going through the shoulder of a Terran private and, passing through it struck a second Terran in the jaw. Greer regained his feet and fired at Childs, who was waiting for Shimonseki to leave as he wanted to guard the general, but the general was felled by a shot in the foot. Crying in pain, Shimonseki twisted and fell to the floor as Childs was struck in the chest by Greer’s shot, and a shot from a wounded Terran went through his outstretched hand. Almost by instinct he let out another shot, killing his wounded attacker. From the ground Shimonseki shot the Terran magistrate in the chest, and he gave a cry, his legs twisting beneath him. His back struck the wall, and his glasses slid off his nose. At the same time, Greer and Childs fired blindly into each other’s chests, the big Terran twisting in his tracks and falling face down on the floor, his beret tumbling off. All was chaos. Literally no one was left standing.

After some minutes of silence, Shimonseki looked over at Childs lying beside him. His gloved hand held his chest, blood running between his fingers. He seemed to be trying to hold in his very insides. He was short of breath, and Shimonseki could tell that he was dying. He had taken Shimonseki’s words as the way he wished to die, obviously, and had gone down fighting. It was such a shame, Shimonseki thought. “Robert,” said Shimonseki, addressing Childs by his Christian name, “I wish you wouldn’t have gotten yourself killed.”

“I wanted to protect you, sir.”

“I should never have come in here, Childs.”

“Oh no, sir, we did well, we’ve won, I think.” Childs managed to make a gesture towards the motionless Terran magistrate whose blood was quickly draining from his body.

“I wish you wouldn’t have had to die though, you have a wife, do you not?”

“Yes, Mary, my wife. It’s a good thing I married her when I did. I got four happy years with her…Sir, I wanted to go down this way, in a way. I wasn’t about to leave you to be caught, sir, and you won’t be. Even now I hear Bronski’s men coming down the halls for us. If I had to die, sir, I wanted to die like this. Only I wish that damned fool over there had aimed for my head instead of my chest, or at least hit my heart instead of my stomach,” he said with a little chuckle. As he gave this chuckle, blood emerged from between his teeth.

“Robert…Robert…God bless you, sir.”

“Thank you, sir. May it be so with you also.” Childs settled into a comfortable position on the floor, and lay back. Within minutes, a peaceful death came to him. Shimonseki hoped it was a painless one, but judging from his wounds, it hardly seemed so. He was a brave man. A very brave man.

It was then, with Childs’ death that the enemy Colonel emerged from the floor, one hand clutching his open wound. He was covered with horrendous scars. A look of intense hatred filled his eyes. He slowly and painfully aimed a small pistol at the prostrate Morganite general’s neck. “Before I die, I will kill an enemy general. Who would die better?” Greer’s finger tightened on the trigger, Shimonseki knew that within seconds a single shot would separate his head from his neck.

However, the pistol suddenly turned upwards, the shot tearing through the ceiling, and the weapon soon dropping from Greer’s hands. The Colonel himself now had a round, red hole in the center of his forehead. As he fell backwards, Brigadier Bronski jogged into the room. As medics ran towards Shimonseki, Bronski discharged a second shot through the head of the Terran magistrate, who was trying to lift himself off the floor. He then fell back, his end coming mercifully quick. Terra Nova was now the property of Morgan Interstellar.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was dark now, night swiftly approaching. Sergeant-Major Rowlands’ boys had gathered up scores of prisoners, running away from the front line, unaware that the Morganites had men in their rear. Rowlands was very proud of himself and his men. He moved on, closer to the offices, the captured Terran general Ross in tow.

However, it being so dark that he could hardly identify passing units, he had a very hard time figuring out to who the approaching company had pledged it’s allegiance. He could hear the men jogging over the rocks toward him, but he could not tell who they were on account of the dimness. He finally gave a shout. “Who goes there, friend or foe?”

“Friend I trust!” came a response, tearing through the darkness. “I am Colonel Helfin.”

Helfin? The name did not ring a bell to the Sergeant Major immediately, but who knows. They could have been 3rd Corps, or possibly Soldier of God, and so he had no right to fall back or open fire. He hoped, however, that these men were friends. All right, he thought, I’ll ask them who they are. The Corporal walked up alongside Rowlands, and the Sergeant Major could vaguely make out his own line of men, kneeling down, their arms aimed out towards the approaching troops. “Tell me, Helfin,” called Rowlands, “who are you with?”

“Company F, 28th Terran Marine Regiment. And you?”

Rowlands acted quickly, nudging the Corporal. All of the men of Company A had heard the response. Rowlands did, in a way, hate to do this, put the plug on these few, brave men. They had obviously been cut to pieces already, and might well have by now lost all semblence of order in the ranks. The fighting from where they were coming was incredibly severe. But, they were Terrans after all. “8th Volunteer Morganite Regiment! Fire men!” On this, all the guns of Company A blazed. From the Terrans there could be heard general cries of pain.

After a few defensive shots from the men that remained, the shooting stopped. Groans of exhaustion from fighting the whole day could be heard, replacing the cries of pain. Soon a second Terran voice, not Helfin’s, but definetly one from the Terrans, cried out, “We surrender! We all surrender!”

“Acceptable,” said Rowlands, nodding to several Privates beside him to collect the Terran weapons, “Jolly good. Very nice to hear.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[History Guy]

Recon Rover Rick Saves the Universe On Cue

Morgan Interstellar

It was in actuality the very center of the Greater Hive Empire. A large dark throne room built under the ground of the Hiverian throne world, hundreds of feet below the surface. The room is literally giant, looking up from the floor it is almost impossible to see the great vaulted ceiling, cut out of the natural rock. The stone throne of the devilish Emperor Yang resembles slightly the throne of a Minoan King uncovered at Knossos so many hundreds of years before. Somewhat surrealistically, in the center of the room runs a deep, fast moving river. A long, sleek rail runs along the riverside, insuring that the Emperor or his subjects do not take accidental dives while walking about the room. A wrought iron bridge stands over the water, allowing one to cross from one side of the room to the other, over the underground river.

This is the sight that greets the eyes of Recon Rover Rick Baxton, his best friend Lieutenant Steve Sparks, and his girlfriend Jessie. This great Morganite citizen, the hero Recon Rover Rick, has run up against his greatest adventure as of yet. This time he is in terrible danger. The evil but cunning Hive Spy Tunick, who sports a terrible German accent and has a nasty scar over his eye and is, naturally enough, bald as a razorbeak’s egg, stands by Rick's side, aiming a shredder pistol at Jessie’s heart just in case Rick makes one wrong move. On his other side stands the evil Hive alien General Zorb, a Photosynthenalian, and a right ugly one too. Rick and his crew have been caught in their space mission to stop a Pirate Clan from terrorizing several poor defenseless Morganite mining colonies, including the one governed by Jessie’s dad. The trail of the Pirates brings Rick back to his old enemy, the evil Hive Empire, and the evil Yang. Rick had hoped Yang had died on Chiron several years before, but sure enough he had returned.

“Ah, my old enemy, Recon Rover Rick!” cries the evil Emperor Sheng-Ji Yang, hopping down from his throne, throwing back his long blue robes behind him. “I knew that one day I would get my revenge!”

“Ah, my old enemy Yang,” says the dashing Rick, “I always knew that the needlejet you were piloting on Chiron hadn’t crashed into the side of that mountain like everyone thought it did.”

“Hah hah hah! Yes, I have survived, and my people have survived, and we’ve dug into these planets and built an empire, conquering these stupid aliens,” he cries, pointing cruelly at the bowing General Zorb, “But while I have survived, you won't! And now I am powerful enough to conquer all! I will have the head of CEO Morgan, my old foe and you shall be powerless to stop me! Kill the girl, Tunick!”

“No!” cries Jessie as Tunick’s fingers tighten around the trigger of his gun. All of the sudden, Recon Rover Rick snatches General Zorb’s gun out of it’s holster and gives Tunick a mighty whack on his big bald head with it’s butt.

“Aaaaah!” screams Tunick, falling down. The Emperor looks rather frightened for the first time that day, backing away towards his throne.

“No! I will stop you, Recon Rover Rick!” The Emperor rushes to his throne and prepares to press a red button, his bony finger hovering just inches above it. “This button, my dear Recon Rover Rick, will signal all my Pirate mercenaries to crash their ships into Morganite colonies and space stations! I shall win in the end!” Sheng-Ji then gives a hearty laugh.

“Dad! He’s going to blow up Dad’s colony!” screams Jessie, as Zorb starts fighting with Sparks and Rick.

“Not while I’m alive, hon’!” cries Rick, clunking Zorb’s head against a wall. He runs toward the Emperor and gives him a mighty sock on the jaw. When he turns around, Tunick grabs his sweetheart and presses a gun to her head.

“Put the Emperor down or the girl gets it!” cries Tunick. Rick prepares at first to do so, but instead picks up the Emperor once more and tosses him bodily at Tunick, knocking him down. In the impact, Tunick’s gun goes off. Jessie backs away in horror as Tunick slides to the floor dead, having accidentally shot himself.

“Well, that’s over,” says Rick with a laugh, pulling the little button out of its place on the throne, disabling it entirely. “Come on, let’s get back to the ship.”

“Not so fast, Rick!” cries Yang, who is now on the bridge, brandishing a shredder pistol that he has apparently picked up somewhere, “Goodbye!” His finger tightens on the trigger, the weapon aimed directly at the hero’s proboscis, but the only weapon that discharges a shot is that of Sparks. Yang clutches his chest in horror and dives over the railing of the bridge, vanishing into the rapidly moving currents below, his dying trunk floating off into the darkness.

“I guess that’s the end of Sheng-Ji Yang,” says Jessie, giving Rick a little osculation on the cheek.

“Yeah, I guess so,” says Sparks.

The voice of CEO Morgan comes from Rick’s watchvid. “I heard what happened, Rick! Good work!”

“Yeah, well good riddance to bad rubbish!” says Rick, kicking a pistol into the water. “But hey! Its Yang we are talking about, we can never be too sure!”

The group walks off to the ship and the lights fade and the credits start to roll. It is the end of the newest Recon Rover Rick episode. As usual, despite the bad dialogue, writing, and acting, a huge number of people watch and cheer as the show begins and ends. Recon Rover Rick is the staple of Morganite TV, it’s been around since Chiron times, most people are reared on that sort of thing. Recon Rover Rick was shown on MorganLink3DTV for as long as anyone could remember.

As the credits faded out and the news came on, Tracking Officer Ferdinand Delbar sighed lightly. “Oh yes, those were the days, weren’t they, Fred? I was brought up on Recon Rover Rick. Loved the show, though as I grow older I can’t believe how dumb it was!”

“Oh yeah,” responded Fred Gaughin, tossing an empty can of MorganCoke into the new, voiceless trashcan at Tracking Station Three, “I was brought up on that sort of thing too. Bought the suit and everything. The vid-shows, the touchbooks, the fake little watchvids, his model rover…”

“You got those touchbooks too? They’re worth a bundle on the market these days!”

“No kidding? Wow. Know who the real Recon Rover Rick was?”

“Uh, yeah, I seem to remember. Some guy who got eaten by mindworms or something?”

“Yeah, basically. Richard Baxton, a guy who piloted his recon rover into some fungal vortex back on Chiron. Held off about four waves of mindworms, saving Morgan Industries from capture. Heroic guy apparently, but he died that day, worms got him. He died clawing his eyes out, screaming for his second-in-command Lieutenant Steven Merchison, a.k.a. Sparks, to put a shredder slug into his head, which Merchison was sorry to have to do.”

“Yeah, I’d heard that. Kinda depressing, I thought. But hey, it sure did make money! They’ve had that TV Show running ever since.”

“Yeah, Ferdy.”

A long silence descended on the room while the two men returned to their respective tasks. It was a boring New Year’s Day that afternoon. There was nothing to report but the average news of trades, mostly with the Free Drone Republic today. A large Morganite supply transport had docked on a Free Drone space station and had opened trade for the New Year. It was definantly a happy 2701 for that Morganite Captain and the Free Drone station director. There was of course intercepted “mail” from one faction to another, but nothing important. Some weird static was picked up from the Cybernetic Consciousness, but what else was new?

“You know what I can guarantee CEO Morgan is doing right now, you lot?” asked Officer Stagg, making her way into the room from the little cafeteria next door.

“Errr, what’s that? Sending the Terran Alliance messages asking for their immediate and unconditional surrender or something?” asked Delbar, sipping some more ‘coffee’.

“Uh-uh,” responded Stagg, “he’s partying the day away.”

“Man, just like all of us last night!” cried Fred Gaughin with a laugh.

“Yeah, but not only about the New Year, take another guess what the festivities are about?”

“Errr, um, it wouldn’t have to do with the fact we got Capella and a horde of Terran prisoners, and now we can send the message asking for peace?” asked Delbar, facetiously.

“Right on the nose, Ferdy, that’s exactly it. Morgan, Siddiqui, Temple, Morgan-Reilly, the whole bunch popping open the champagne and xeno-wines and having a good time. I’ll bet even old Ku is making something of a celebration. Man, those guys know how to have a good time.”

“I’ll bet we are the only Morganites who don’t!” laughed Gaughin.

“Too true, too true,” responded Delbar, “Especially you, Gaughin. After all, you are the guy who’s always reading Henry James. ‘I think I’m going to slit my throat’, and that sort of thing.” There were general laughs. It seemed Gaughin had rediscovered Henry James on the datalinks and was rapidly downloading and reading everything he ever wrote, and when ever he quoted it aloud it depressed everyone around him to death.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Central Plaza, Office Story

Everyone was there, enjoying the day. They should have been allowed to do so as well, after all, every other day they had nothing but loads of work to do. On a couch sat CEO Morgan, cross-legged, in a nice black suit. In his massive hand he clutched a large glass, with only a few drops of wine left in it. By his side sat Imran Siddiqui, his wife, Temple, his wife, and finally Morgan-Reilly. On another side of the huge room B.W. Ewell and Miss Carstairs were talking to each other amiably, their friend Miss Kwan was hovering about. Ewell and Carstairs made a perfect couple in most everyone’s eyes. Mr. Walker, Mr. Delgado, Mrs. Whitaker, Dr. Ishimora, Mr. Sicut, and General Marchand were sitting at a table on the other side of the room, playing a game of cards. Marchand was winning, of course. The game was war, and nobody could do that sort of thing better than the ‘grand old man of the army’ could. General Lehman watched over Marchand’s shoulder, but he himself was not playing. Standing in a corner, somewhat obscured by a pillar, silently watching over it all, was Mr. Ku of the Intelligence.

Ku had been a busy man of late. He’d been clearing all the links out of Morgan Interstellar. All the men and women his boys could find conclusive evidence against had to go, and go they did. About twelve men and women by now, all dead, all disposed of. The first had been Gervaise Binstead, the latest was a little known trade analyst in the Pollux System, who’d fallen to her death quite tragically while walking up a staircase. The public knew about some of the deaths, and did not know about others. Mr. Binstead, for example, had, in the public’s eyes, simply vanished. No fuss was made over his disappearance, but he had disappeared all the same. It depended usually on the operative. If he arranged the death to look like murder, the body was destroyed and the public would never know the truth. If he arranged the death to look like an accident or a suicide the public knew of it. The public might always suspect Ku is behind it, but they never know for sure. This is how Mr. Ku operated. In a party like this, Ku hardly felt at home.

Strangely enough, neither did the CEO. Morgan loved parties, but not this one. It was of course, simply a New Years party, but he knew that everyone was celebrating the fall of Capella as well. Even Morgan was, in a sense. But this was not the way to act, and he knew it. He hated war, it was bad for business, and it was bad for people, as he always said. Morgan hated death, which is why he insisted that everyone else about him take the Longevity Vaccine. Death was something he always felt to be unnatural and unnecessary, quite like this war. Morgan wanted to destroy InEn, not fight Terra. A war with Terra was not winnable with the Morganites alone fighting, but it was with the Spartans on his side. He did not fear that he would be destroyed by Terra, but he did fear that he had innocent blood on his hands.

“I am a King”, he thought to himself, “I am the son of a King and a Queen of Africa. I am royalty. I was born to lead men. Even into battle. But I was not born to destroy men in acts of revenge. Because Terra protects InEn, this does not mean I must destroy it, it does not even mean that I must hurt it.” Morgan saw only pain and suffering if he continued this war. Terra would strike back, injure Morgan, the Spartans would then come into this war. There would be bloodshed. Slaughter of the innocents. He could not permit this to happen.

“I am stopping this war,” he suddenly announced, “using every vestige of power in me to try and do so. InEn is going to die soon, we have struck it a mortal blow, but we can not fight Terra and win. I feel what we must do is pay reparations, and heavy ones, but not to InEn, to Terra alone. We will even return all we have taken if they will grant peace. When InEn shuts down, I intend to ask for peace negotiations. I intend to prove to them that they supported a terrorist government in InEn, and that when they re-took Callisto they were simply serving this act of terrorism. I will give them Capella, perhaps even a few colonies belonging to us if it will bring peace. It may seem to be defeat, but it will simply be graciousness. I should not have attacked Capella. Marchand was right, and I was wrong. I should not have listened to the urges of the Soldiers of God to attack, or the urges of my advisors, I should have asked for peace negotiations. Simply because we have won a great battle over a proud enemy we shall have a much harder time in bringing peace, but we shall listen to their demands if we must to restore peace. Peace is what concerns me most.”

This was something totally unexpected from him. Capella had been taken at a large price. How could he simply turn off a war? “If we must wait for one more defeat of their troops so be it, but I doubt another defeat will be theirs. I think we must end this before it gets even harder to break. I think Tremaine must be under pressure to call off this war now, with the deaths of so many of his men at Callisto and Capella. But he will receive what he asks for from us. We are a generous people, and so we can give them back Capella and give them what they ask for. We have killed relatively few of their people on Capella. We are not going about murdering civilians and the like, as InEn would do, so I think some deal can be reached. That is, I hope some deal can be reached.” As he said this, Siddiqui beside him cracked open the last bottle of Terran-made champagne and poured everyone a glass. The advisors would now have to put peace into consideration. But now, with so much blood spilt, was peace even an option?
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[Sovereign]

2 LY from Roving

If sounds could be heard in space, there would be painful groans and wails as space itself began to bulge, twist, and stretch. The fabric of space burst open in a dazzling white explosion as a behemoth of all behemoths with its two guardian brothers erupted forward in an solid wall formation. The three ships were ink black and as light began to hit the ships, its colors and detailed shapes slowly became visible.

The king behemoth ship revealed its name and insignia to the universe as the ink-darkness faded out, as if it was frost on a hot surface, as U.C.S.S. Enterprise. The ship's shape slowly formed to its correct proportions, and from an unseen observer's view, it appears as a supersized arrowhead, that has a subtle physchological effect of terror. Its six kilometer by a kilometer wide and half kilometer tall frame cautiously made its approach to the U.C.S.S. Magellan.

The two guardians made their presence known as the Side-space to Real-Space transition ended as two Relativity class battleships, U.C.S.S. Relativity and U.C.S.S. Newton. The two and half kilometer long battleships escorted Enterprise, with a curved and organic-looking version of twentieth century battleships from Terra's second World War. The long, slender and intimidating battleship cannons mounted on the smooth and flowing exterior neutronium hull began to track the two designated hostile targets. The interiors began to glow as tachyon energies are supercharged and built up to fire at the targets if the need arises.

********************************************
UCSS Enterprise bridge

Exploration Task Force Admiral Garland grinned, and remarked to Captain Ryu, "I can imagine the stunned faces of these hostiles, but unlike them, we shall not shoot first and ask questions later."

Ryu told Ship to Ship Comm Officer Mulahoney, "Hail the hostile ships and demand an explanation of their "shoot first and ask questions later" policy upon the UCSS Magellan. Magellan was merely exploring and scouting, yet these hostiles treat it as an invader? How peculiar and barbaric. Attempt to end hostilities and show them that we are a civilized society."

Ryu then proceeded to walk around the bridge to yell out orders to various holo-console crewmembers. He turned back to Garland and he told Ryu, "Let them make the next move."

[Lonestar]

The Cold Harbor

Bradley stared at the massive vessel and her smaller (but still larger than the Protectorate's Goliath class Battleships) escorts. After listening to the Main ship's hail, he gave a small smile. The Cold Harbor's twin 1 mil tw Particle cannons, each with the ability to glass a part of the planetary surface the size of new England could probably take them. Probably.

The Tac officer spoke up. "Skipper, the Chapultepec and Cerro Gordo will be here within 5 min. Instructions?"

"Deploy Starfury wing." Bradley looked at the comm officer, who pointed at the main screen. The Hive captain still wanted to speak. tough noogies. "Ignore him. Begin transmission to that....battlewagon out there."

"Enough Blood has been shed. I am authorized to offer another solution. You will remove your vessel, the Magellan to your home territories. You will not come within 3 ly of Roving, Beta Hydri, or RE123, without express permission first. You will not aknowledge our existance to any other hUman factions, besides the Free Drones, and the GHE."

Bradley licked his lips, then plowed ahead.

"Failure to withdraw within the next 10 mins will constitute a act of aggression against the Protectorate of Man."

[Frankychan]

Hive Prime

Minister Zell along with Warmaster Kang headed toward Emperor Yang's private war room, both waken up from sleep. Zell couldn't help but wonder if their beloved leader ever slept.

As they rounded a corner, Zell decided to engage in small talk with the Warmaster.

"Warmaster, is it true you led the final assault on the Tarlak homeworld?"

The towering Bulwark, side-eyed Zell and grunted.

"Yes." He began, "I personally executed their leader. It was glorious.....Now, be quiet."

Silenced, Zell acknowledged and remained quiet for the rest of the walk.

Shortly thereafter, both of them reached Yang's private war room. As they entered, Yang stood in front of an enormous map of known space. In the middle of the room was a small hand-polished table surrounded by chairs.

Yang turned around and handed a datapad to a technician nearby.

"Sit," Yang gestured toward the empty chairs, "We have much to discuss." The Emperor then gestured to some Hive personnel in the room to continue their work.

When Zell and Kang sat, Sheng-ji began to speak.

"We have recently -received a priority-one message from our ships near system LP 658-2. In the transmission is a link to the University."

Zell gasped just as the Warmaster flinched in surprise.

"As you both know, I have been searching for Zakharov and the University since the Human Hive's exodus off of Chiron...This latest news is truly marvelous."

The Emperor smiled devilishly as he continued.

"We also have received a new message from the Laekdaemon Cadre. The anti-Spartan elements are asking for assistance. I am therefore sending 250 Hive agents to rendez-vous with them at Firaxis Prime under the guise of independent traders.

"Zell, you are to send Major Lysander of the Laekdaemon Cadre details of where to meet.

"Kang, begin assembling a task force to aid the Terrans against Morgan and his lackeys."

Yang then turned to the map where the Hive officers were working at. He then pointed at the map.

"Look at the Empire. See how large our empire encompasses. Morgan, Kessel, the Terrans, they will all know just how powerful we are."

Not looking at the two, the Emperor dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

* * *
To: Major Lysander of Laekdaemon Cadre
From: Minister Zell of Hive Command

Hive aid to Laekdaemon Cadre will rendez-vous with your forces at Firaxis Prime. Attached is coordinates to the planet. Our ships will be disguised as free traders but will keep communications open. When you arrive, broadcast this code attached. Only our ships will be able to decipher this code. We hope you are successful in this endeavor and hope our relationship grows.

* * *

When Zell and Kang left, Emperor Yang continued to stare at the map. Centuries. Centuries and now I have found them.

Ever since the 'FTL' wars on Chiron, Sheng-ji considered the University his closest thing to an ally. They were the only faction to support the Human Hive when things looked like their darkest. Searching for years, Hive agents finally found Zakharov.

Smiling, Yang began recording a visual message to his old comrade.

* * *
To: Academician Prokhor Zakharov of the University
From: Emperor Sheng-ji Yang of the Greater Hive Empire

Ah, my intellectual colleague. So it seems your University has also survived the dismal planet Chiron. As you now know, I style myself Emperor Yang of the Greater Hive Empire. I am glad that your faction hasn't been eradicated as I thought it would since your support of the Human Hive. (Yang smiled). Anyway, I hope we can continue our warm relations we once had on Chiron. I await your response Provost.
* * *

After recording the message for the University, Yang began a response to the message he recently received from the Morganite territories.

* * *
To: Unknown source
From: Hive Command

Your info is very valuable. We would be willing to pay 1 metric ton of our precious minerals in exchange for data of the Morgan military. However, if the data is false or innaccurate, we will not be responsible for actions taken.
* * *
--------------------
Planet: Great Collective
Terran-Morganite briefing room

Ehud and Shirlak stood in front of an assembled group of Hive officials. They were all ready for Ehud and Shirlak's debriefing.

Ehud began first.

"As you all know, we have begun contact procedures with the Terrans. Our Hive communications ship, the Watchers Eye is currently in their system now. We have also sent an ambassador there as we speak."

Shirlak spoke next.

"What the Terrans do not know is that we have a carrier full of fighters cloaked in their system as well. This ship is to observe the Terran reaction to our ships. It will only engage in combat against ships that attack ours."

Shirlak began to circle the room.

"You are all here to begin preparations for Hive involvement in the Terran-Morgan war. We must make sure the Terrans engage in war against Morgan for an extended period of time."

One Xiero looked up at the Spymaster.

"What about the Saturn rebellion?"

Ehud smirked, "Their self-declared 'Queen Sanchez' or whoever is in no position to effect the Terrans from expanding their territory. As for the Morganites, they are too spoiled, too obese to fend off both the Terrans and us."

Shirlak smiled.

"If we wanted to, we could squash Morgan Interstellar but our lord does not wish to. Begin procedures for full involvement with Sol System. Dismissed."

* * *
To: Terran Government
From: Hive Command

Our ambassador is arriving shortly. We wish to discuss matters of military nature with your government, particularly the Morganite 'infestation' you seem to suffer from. We will be contacting you again later.
* * *
--------------------
2 Ly from Roving
Hive Corvetter Skipfire

Captain Fassini was enraged by the fact that the Protectorate vessel was ignoring him. No, they said 'Suck-on-them' to me...how DARE they!

Just as he was contemplating his next course of action, an enormous ship appeared on the viewscreen and radar.

"Sir!" The comm-officer shouted, "Ship appearing from FTL travel. It appears they are University as well!"

Fassini felt a huge burden lift from his shoulders. Now they were on level ground with the Protectorate 'bullies'.

"What is happening, officer?" Fassini asked.

"Captain, the University ship is demanding an explanation from the Protectorate ships on why they fired at their ship."

"...And?" Pietro commented.

"The Protectorate ship is demanding that they leave here and to keep their existence quiet to everyone except us and the Free Drone's."

Captain Fassini stroked his chin in thought. Free Drone's? What do they have to do with this? He then turned to bridge control.

"Helm, take us out of here and engage in cloak. Have all weapons ready, if we are fired upon by the Protectorate vessels open fire. Comm, tell them we are leaving since the University ship does not need our help as well."

The captain hesitated for a second.

"And send one last message to the Protectorate vessel...."
* * *
To: Protectorate Vessel
From: Hive Corvette Skipfire

Protectorate vessel, your message to "suck-on-them" has been received. Since you are apparently far INferior to us, I would suggest you keep to your side of the galaxy. We are leaving now, Protectorate.

[Sovereign]

2 LY from Roving
UCSS Enterprise

Admiral Garland stood up from his leather command chair on the bridge after listening to the Protectorate message. He grinned a devilish smile and motioned to Ship to Ship Comm Officer Mulahoney to send a message reply to the Protectorate main vessel, now known as Cold Harbor.


******************************************
Encrypted tranmission to Protectorate Vessel Cold Harbor
Transmitted from UCSS Enterprise

"Your tranmission has been recieved. I, Admiral Garland, am authorized to establish a treaty with arrangements with your leader, to formally recongize each other's borders, not share information about each other to other nations and factions, and keep open communication channels for further improvement of relations, or other communications as needed.

We will agree to withdraw our ships, as soon as we conclude the treaty, and as an additional guanatree, we won't divulge any data on Roving to even the Drones and the Hive. I am glad that we could avoid bloodshed, and hopefully more misunderstandings and unfortunate incidents may be avoided with the treaty.

Peace and prosper."

******************************************
UCSS Enterprise

Garland sighed and requested a couple of other tranmissions, to the Hive vessel and to Randius.

******************************************
Encrypted tranmission to Hive Vessel Skipfire
Transmitted from UCSS Enterprise

"This is Admiral Garland from the UCSS Enterprise, the carrier ship. We would like to escort your vessel to your space, to guanatree your survival, in case the Protectorate decides to "eliminate" your vessel. Nothing is safe in this volatile space, and in addition, this group is authorized to remain outside your borders to serve as a encrypted relay station if we re-activate our ancient alliance, and assist in defense as needed.

Peace and Prosper."

******************************************
Encrypted tranmission to Academician Randius Zakharov
Transmitted from UCSS Enterprise

"Admiral Garland here. The Protectorate vessel has agreed to allow us to withdraw with our scoutship, the Magellan, with the stipulation of not entering Protectorate space without permission. We shall commence treaty discussions with the Protectorate to avoid further bloodshed and hopefully begn relations. I will keep you updated of the situation."

*******************************************
Tower of Babil

Randius sat down at his desk and rubbed his eyes wearily. This conflict has been nerve wracking, especially that the Magellan had sensitive equipment that Randius didn't want to lose and have the Protectorate get their hands on. Randius was glad that the carrier group helped to avert war and severe hostilities.

Mina ran in the room and remarked to Randius excitedly, "We recieved an encrypted message from Emperor Yang, but he is under the impression that Prokhor Zakharov is still alive."

Randius felt his chest swell with pain. Father.....

Mina noticed the faraway look in Randius's brown eyes and asked "Are you all right?"

"Actually no. I thought I put my father's death behind me over three centuries ago. I thought I was able to get over that assasination by the Believers. May these bible thumpers go to hell for what they did!

I shall personally write a tranmission to Yang to inform him."

Mina queried, "Are you sure you're feeling up to it? Even though I've only seen Prokhor Zakharov's holo-pictures, as well as being around for almost three centuries, I can't imagine three centuries of pain, or losing a father for as long as I have lived."

Randius rubbed his temples and said, "You can stay if you want to monitor my "well being" if you're that concerned." He touched a panel in the table and a crystalline chair grew out of the crystal floor and as Mina sat in it, it adjusted itself to accomdate her shape.

Randius began writing the tranmission and wouldn't finish for several hours.

**************************************
Encrypted tranmission to Emperor Yang
Transmitted from Academician Randius Zakharov

"Hello Emperor Yang. I am Academician Randius Zakharov, the sole son of the late Prokhor Zakharov. In our last years on Chiron, the Believers assasinated my father. I have been Academician ever since, and I am continuing his dedication and vision. I have been seeking you and your faction ever since Planet-Exodus and am greatly glad to hear that you are alive and well.

The University is now known as the University Commonwealth of States. We have been specializing in construction and computers lately. We are operating under a government called Technocracy. It blends some foundations of a police-state, a little democracy, and most bureaucracy is run by computers to free people from the tedious everyday work. I shall transmit more details later, but this government has allowed wondrous new discoveries and expansion in a surprising short period of time.

We currently occupy three star systems in the galatic southwestern corner of the galaxy. We are looking at several prospective systems near the home systems for further colonization.

In short, the UCS is doing very well, especially in light of my father's assassination and the chaos of the last two decades on Chiron.

I would very much like to re-establish our friendship and alliance. It is my sincere hope that we may supplement each other and grow even stronger. I would like to have my carrier group escort your vessel the Skipfire to your space, to ensure no sneak Protectorate depredations shall occur. My tactical tanks and computers analyze that from the experiences of the Magellan being attacked by the Protectorate without provocation may mean the Protectorate might do the same to the Skipfire.

In addition, there are many "mysterious disappearances" documented in these areas. My scoutship has tracked several vessels with its advanced sensors, then suddenly the ships vanished off the sensor screens.

My carrier group shall remain outside of your space to serve as an encrypted tranmission relay, and to aid in defense as needed. Consider this as a goodwill gesture in light of our beneficial past relations on Chiron. If you would prefer them not to do so, I shall be more than happy to instruct them to withdraw.

I look foward to hearing from you soon, Emperor Yang.

Peace and Prosper to the Greater Hive Empire."

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