Announcement

**Bearcat** · August 28, 2002, 21:12

Prokhor Zakharov leaned over the glowing touchpanel that was reading off the latest information collected by his people on the geological makeup of the surrounding terrain. His colony pod, filled with some of the best minds from Earth had landed seemingly in the middle of nowhere. As far as the eye could see from the main tower to the horizon was an expanse of red-brown Centauri soil and the strange reddish xenofungus. His colony of scientists had been exploring the strange new surroundings of Planet since the first day after their pod had landed and had discovered some very interesting things about humanity's new home. For instance, his scientists had calculated the exact atmospheric makeup of Planet, 91% Nitrogen and 9% Oxygen. His scientists were undoubtedly the best on this new world; they were the brightest and most dedicated researchers and thinkers from the Unity that had chosen to follow him to this new world. He had made it very clear to his people that they would strive to make their civilization and this new world a monument to the human intellect.
Such lofty idealism however was something that Zakharov was relatively unused too. All his life he had been a staunch pragmatist, never trusting or believing in anything unless he had solid and sound proof that he could see or hold in his hand. He had little room for faith, the likes of Miriam Godwinson, the Unity Psych Chaplain. He wondered what had happened to her, after the pods were launched. Had she survived? Had she even made it off of the Unity? Part of him missed the debates that they had shared on the Unity over science and faith. However Zakharov knew one thing for sure, and that was that he and his followers would always look for scientific proof and value in the universe and on this new world.
Zakharov turned away from the panel having gathered the information he needed. Nodding to several of his researchers clustered around another touchpanel, he stepped through the automated sliding doors and into the hallways of University Base. The name for his base and also for his faction of followers, the University of Planet had come from his good friend and top aide Raymond Hall, who had started referring to the faction that way as a pun on their dedication to research and science, but had eventually stuck as it was so popular. University Base was a growing, thriving base with almost 1,100 inhabitants and was surely the most technologically advanced base on Planet, if not the only base on Planet part of him thought. His scouts had reported no contact with any of the other landing pods, and as far as any of his people knew they were the only ones left alive from the Unity. Part of Zakharov rebelled at the thought of being alone on this vast new world and yet another part of him was excited at the chance to build an advanced society without opposition. Deep in thought, Zakharov almost ran into Raymond who had an excited look on his face. He was dressed in a Unity jumpsuit that was rather worse for wear and sported a shock of white hair. Many of his citizens were still wearing their Unity uniforms, as clothing hadn't been a top priority during the early months following Planetfall. Zakharov himself was wearing his old green jumpsuit that denoted him as a member of the Unity's science corps.
"Prokhor, good news. Our scouts announce that they have found a rather remarkable natural landmark." Zakharov nodded and motioned for Raymond to follow him and as he started forward again.

"What type of landmark is it?" Zakharov asked honestly interested in such a discovery. Planet as it was now seemed so flat and barren, that something like a chain of mountains or a forest or jungle, even would be refreshing.
"The scouts tell me that they have discovered what appears to be a large inland lake to our east. They report that it is freshwater and that it appears to be very large in length. Unfortunately they don't have any depth measurements yet" said Raymond. Zakharov turned this over in his mind. A large, fresh body of water situated to his east. This could prove to be very useful for things like drinking water or energy in the future.
"About how far away is this lake?"
"Scouts report that it's about a five day journey. But our scouts don't move very fast on foot, Prokhor" said Raymond. Zakharov nodded. Although scouts had been handpicked for hardiness and the ability to traverse distances quickly, a human could only go so fast. Still five days to the east was quite a ways to try and extend University Base's resources. He tapped his pad against his thigh absently as he considered the distances it would take to pipe water or bring energy back to the base. It was quite a distance, probably 200 kilometers. He turned back to Raymond who had been quietly standing behind him waiting for whatever it was he knew Zakharov was thinking.
"Tell our scouts to continue gathering information about this lake. I want to know more about it than, the fact that it's a large body of freshwater." Raymond nodded and tapped a series of commands on his pad. Zakharov turned away from him and continued on to the elevator. Both men stepped inside. The back wall of the elevator was emblazoned with the wrench symbol that it had once been part of a well in one of the pod's tech bays. He and Raymond rode in silence until the elevator deposited them on the floor that held Zakharov's office.

Once inside Zakharov's office both men took a seat, and gazed out of the synthglass window that gave them a pretty good view of Planet. The twin suns of Alpha Centauri were beginning their descent into evening and the hazy sky had already taken on a slightly golden glow that marked the beginning of late afternoon. Zakharov glanced at the digital clock on his desk and grunted noting the time, 26:10. Almost another three hours to go until the suns sank away and the moons Nessus and Pholus took their place in the sky. For a people coming from a world with a 24 hour day, a world with a 36 hour day was still very strange to the settlers. Zakharov still was in the habit of glancing at the clock and when seeing 22 or 23 on the face, wondering why it wasn't dark outside. Noon came at 18:00 instead of 12:00 as on Earth. The longer days wore on Zakharov. He hadn't been young when he left Earth. In fact the day they had launched, he had celebrated his 66th birthday. Now having spent a year and half on this alien world, taking charge of an emerging society and shaping it to his desire hadn't let him get as much rest as he would of liked. But to say he hadn't enjoyed the challenge would be a lie. Right now, though he wished for a glass of good Russian vodka to help ease his tired nerves, but he and Raymond had shared the last bottle of Earth vodka on the Unity before it's destruction. Now he wished he had saved it.
"You look tired Prokhor. Perhaps you should rest for a while. I'm sure that everything will be fine while you sleep," said Raymond with a definite edge of worry in his voice. Zakharov smiled. Yes, Raymond was an old friend who still cared about old Prokhor's health. The idea of sleep did sound very tempting right now, though. He resisted though, knowing that if he were going to get used to these 36 hour days at all, he'd have to get into a rhythm. He slowly shook his head.
"No, there's too much work to do for this old man to sleep right now" he said. Raymond looked as if he was about to argue with his friend, but than decided against it and just nodded resignedly. Prokhor stood to face the window and noticed that his hands were shaking involuntarily. Muttering a silent expletive he balled his hands into fists to try, that momentarily stopped the shaking. Every so often they did this, started to shake without warning and Zakharov wished he knew why. He remembered them shaking on the Unity and remembered how Miriam had used that weakness against him to argue her views on faith. Once again his mind wandered back to Miriam, had she made it off the ship? Was anyone out there besides his people? Looking out across the vast stretches of flat, rolling extending to the horizon it was hard to tell. He whispered something to himself in Russian otkrietia, discovery. For Zakharov this word now held a twofold meaning, between advancing the measures of the mind and perhaps finding fellow survivors of humanity's mission of survival.
"You said something Prokhor?" asked Raymond. Clearly he hadn't been quiet enough in his own thoughts. He half-turned to face Raymond and the window at the same time.
"Yes, I wonder if anyone besides us survived the Unity's final moments" he said. Undoubtedly this was a question many University citizens were asking themselves. Friends and shipmates who had gone in different pods or who had still been in their cryocells when the pods were launched, were probably on many minds, not just his. Raymond stood to join him by the window. Both men both old men, Prokhor corrected himself, Raymond was 62 after all stood gazing out of the window onto the vista that was provided. For a while neither of them spoke, but Zakharov had a feeling that Raymond had a better understanding of this situation than he, himself did. Finally Raymond broke the silence.
"It's very likely that the other are out there Prokhor. After all if we survived Planetfall, what's not to say that Yang or the Captain didn't?" Zakharov was forced to acknowledge the logic behind that statement. If he and his people had come out of the landing all right what was to say that the other pods and their crews had not? But this world was large and any other pods that had landed, were probably scattered all across it, which would make contact that much harder. There were probably several other collections of colonists building a new home for themselves on this planet and wondering if they were alone or not. Gazing out once more at the world, slowly drifting towards nightfall he couldn't help but wonder where the others were and when they would finally make contact.

Lieutenant Jasraj Naran lowered his binoculars and activated his quicklink. The tall and slender Indian officer had quickly volunteered to lead one of Lal's many scouting parties when the chance had been offered. Naran couldn't stand the idea of manual labor that it had taken to construct their base, named U.N. Headquarters at the insistence of Director Lal. The exhaustion and boredom of manual labor appealed little to Lt. Naran and therefore he had been excited to journey into the unknowns of the new planet with only 10 other men. His scouting party had been traveling southwest from U.N. Headquarters for about 4 days now and had reached the shores of the Freshwater Sea. This large inland body of water, discovered by one of the early patrols, was very unique in it's large content of inland freshwater and it was reputed to be nutrient rich as well. But the Sea wasn't the scout's priority. Lal was apparently insistent on finding out if any of the other landing pods had been successful. As far as the Lieutenant was concerned, if any of the other pods had survived they would only prove a nuisance as many of the pod leaders had defected the original ideals of the UN mission to which Naran had remained true.
"This is Lieutenant Naran to Sergeant Fulke. Come in Sergeant" he waited for a moment, listening to the hiss of background static coming over the link before his second in command replied.
"Sergeant Fulke here. Go ahead, Sir" came the reply. Naran glanced up at the sky, squinting at the brilliant light of the double suns even through his faceplate. He swept the horizon once more.
"Sergeant, there's no-one here. Prepare the men to move out by the end of the hour. We'll move down the shore towards the south and hope that someone is out there for the sake of our careers" said Naran with a grin on his face. Sergeant Fulke nodded, accepting the jest. He shot a glance over his back towards the rest of the men in the squad and than turned back to Lt. Naran.
"Roger sir. I'll tell the men to be ready to move out by 1900 or prepare to be cut when we get back to Headquarters," said Fulke with a grin of his own. Naran nodded and ended the link turning back to take one more look at the Freshwater Sea from up on the bluff. Small whitecaps dotted the azure surface of the water and the surf rolled up on the red sand in foamy white waves. Great place for a vacation, thought Naran before turning away and descending the bluff.

The scouts had been traveling for two days now, since leaving the bluff and there was still nothing to be found. Naran was beginning to think that there was no one else out there, which suited him, fine. He turned back to look at the rest of his scout patrol. Sergeant Fulke and Corporal Andries Viljoen, the two senior enlisted men were giving some poor private hell for something. Naran smiled at the ageless sight of martial rank pulling. He turned around and immediately threw up a hand and the smile disappeared from his face. All 10 men behind him stopped, to see what was wrong. Naran stared hard at the horizon, trying to figure out what it was he seen or thought he had seen. Quickly he pulled his binoculars out of his pack and trained them on his point of interest. There, small in the distance even to binoculars was a group of about four human-like figures. Without turning away from what he was seeing, he directed a question to Sergeant Fulke.
"Sergeant, do you know of any other scout patrols in this region?" he asked even though he knew the answer.
"No sir, we're the only ones in this region, though if memory serves Lieutenant Vaughan took a patrol up north" replied the second in command. Naran nodded and motioned for the sergeant to join him. When Sgt. Fulke reached his side he handed him the binoculars and pointed to the horizon.
"Tell me who those people are than Sergeant." Fulke raised the binoculars and trained them towards where Naran was pointing. It took only a moment or two to realize what his commanding officer was thinking. Fulke lowered the binoculars slowly and than automatically reached for his shredder pistol. Naran grabbed his arm to restrain him before he could pull the weapon from it's holster on his hip.
"Sir, they may be hostile" whispered Fulke in protest. Naran however kept his grip on the Sergeant's arm firm and leaned close to his sergeant's helmet.
"Yes, they may. But for the moment there's no need to alarm the rest of the patrol. Here's what I want you to do Sergeant. Take a small group and head for their position. Corporal Viljoen and I will follow with the rest of the men to cover you. Go slow and don't let them see you until we've determined how many of them there are. Besides, for all we know, they are just as curious as we are," said Naran. Fulke considered this for a moment and than nodded. He returned to the patrol and within five minutes set out with another four men. Corporal Viljoen shot Lt. Naran a questioning look to which he simply shook his head.

For nearly an hour, Lieutenant Naran and his men worked their way towards the far-off soldiers of unidentified origins. Every fifteen minutes, Sergeant Fulke and his squad checked in to detail the progress of their advance. Finally the two squads met on a small outcropping overlooking the position occupied by the unidentified soldiers. Sergeant Fulke crawled over to Naran and hissed in his ear.
"We've been watching them for the last half-hour, sir. There's about twelve of them it looks like, and they're armed with machine rifles from the Unity it appears. Their commander is that one over there by the tent. None of them seem overtly hostile and there's too few of them to be out conquering" said Fulke. Naran had to concur. Whoever they were, they were better armed than his scouting patrol though. Thinking fast he turned back to his second.
"We should establish contact with them" he said. Although a formality, it was always nice to have the second in command agree with the commander's decision. That made it easier to enforce if the men following it didn't like it very well. He waited for Fulke's answer.
"If we don't Director Lal will skin us alive for letting this opportunity get passed up" he said. Naran nodded his head and for a moment let his hand rest on the handle of his shredder pistol before moving it. No, if we make contact with these people we'll have to do it peacefully, he thought. Carefully he stood up and followed by Sergeant Fulke descended the outcropping. The soldiers, most of whom were gathered around a small, sputtering fire looked up in what was either surprise or alarm. Naran couldn't see through their faceplates from this distance. The one whom Sergeant Fulke had labeled as the leader, started to reach for his machine rifle than stopped. Good call, thought Naran, vastly relieved. Had the man picked up his weapon, the situation could have turned very ugly. All of the foreign soldiers were outfitted in thick white jumpsuits emblazoned with a strange symbol that Naran had never seen before. Two pairs of tongs, one black and one white surrounded a gold central symbol, that Naran recognized to be the universal atomic sign. A small gold pin was attached the collar of the commander's jumpsuit, leading Naran to assume that it was an officer's symbol of some sort. The foreign commander stopped in front of Naran and Sergeant Fulke and extended his hand.
"Zdrastvusti. I am Major Yuri Popov of the University of Planet, led by our illustrious Academician, Prokhor Zakharov. Who might you be?" This man Popov, Naran noted, spoke in imperfect Unity Standard English heavily accented with Russian. The man had also mentioned Zakharov. The Chief Science Officer from the Unity had reportedly commandeered his own pod and taken most of the Unity's best scientists with him. Perhaps they had just discovered what had become of him.
"Hello, Major Popov. My name is Lieutenant Jasraj Naran and this is Sergeant Roland Fulke. We represent Director Pravin Lal. I'm pleased to meet you," he said. The "University" Major nodded and motioned Naran to take a seat beside the fire. Several other University soldiers scrambled to their feet to make room for their commander and his guests. Major Popov reached into a pack lying by the fire and pulled out a package that Singh recognized as one of the instant meals (IMs) from the Unity.
"It's good to know we aren't the only ones out here Lieutenant. For while we wondered if our pod was the only one that had survived landing. I see we were wrong," said Popov. Naran declined the IM package offered to him by Popov.
"We thought the very same thing, Major. Like you said it's good to know that we were wrong about that." Popov nodded and stayed silent for a moment. He replaced the IM package offered to Naran and poked a stick into the fire before returning to the conversation.
"Lieutenant, I think it would be good idea if we exchanged our leader's frequencies. They have to much to talk about, no?" asked the Major. Naran nodded and called up Director Lal's frequency wondering if he and his men would get commendations for "discovering" the University and if Major Popov was thinking the exact same thing.

**Bearcat** · August 28, 2002, 21:15

CHAPTER 2

"Pravin, it has been a while since we last talked." The face of Prokhor Zakharov gazed out of the telescreen on the wall at U.N. Headquarters. Lal observed the face of the former Chief Science Officer, taking in the wrinkles, glasses, and white hair of an old man who still, Lal noted, spoke with the grating accent of Russia. Zakharov had apparently taken his followers, mostly scientists and technicians and had landed only about six days away from U.N. Headquarters. His people, who now styled themselves the "University of Planet", were according to Zakharov pursuing the fruits of science and research. Lal and Zakharov had exchanged their world maps almost immediately, hoping that one had found something the other hadn't or had made contact with some of the others. Unfortunately this was not the case.
"So you haven't found any of the others?" asked Lal with clear disappointment in his voice.
"No. So far you and your people are the only ones we've contact with," said Zakharov shaking his head sadly. Lal leaned back in his chair and set the touchpad he had been holding on the table and rubbed his temples. Nothing was going the way it had been planned. None of the colony pods had landed together, from the sound of things the pod leaders were splintered and no longer in alleigance to the UN Charter that bound the mission. Lal wished for a fleeting moment that Captain Garland was here to help sort this mess out. But that was impossible. Garland had died freeing the landing pods, so that the leaders might bicker down here on Planet and threaten the future of a united humanity, building a new home.
"You know, Prokhor. All the pods were supposed to land together" he said. Zakharov nodded.
"Yes, of course. But as you can see Pravin that hasn't exactly happened. The others are most definitely out there and dealing with their own problems, we all have a long road ahead of us," he said. Lal nodded grimly, casting a glance out the window and in the direction of the ocean. How many of the leaders were across that ocean, cut off from each other and asking the same questions that he was?
"Prokhor, by terms of the Charter pods are required to lend assistance to each other, in the way of resources and materials," Lal started, but before he could finish Zakharov cut him off.
"Pravin, the Charter has no bearing on this mission any longer. All of the other pod leaders have their own dreams for humanity on Planet, and I guarantee you that none of them are considering the Charter right now," said Zakharov. Lal flinched as he was forced to acknowledge this unkind truth. In the Unity's dying hours the leaders of the ship had all taken control of a landing pod with the dream of establishing their ideals for future humanity on this Planet. Lal and his people, in the Captain's pod, that had eventually become his pod were the only ones that had remained true to the Charter. And now Lal had the truth, he had braced himself for but had dreaded speaking to him now. The Unity's crew was hopelessly splintered among the different factions. However Lal still held out hope that they might come to return to the original objective of the mission, it was a hope that Lal told himself he would never let go of.
"Perhaps you have turned you back on the mission objective Prokhor, but that doesn't mean that our two colonies can't benefit from each other. Perhaps share resources or research?" asked Lal. Zakharov looked mildly surprised at Lal's offer. Apparently he hadn't expected Lal to want anything to do with him after he revealed that he had no further use for the UN Charter.
"Are you suggesting you sign a Treaty of Friendship, Pravin?" he asked with a half-grin on his face.
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting Prokhor. There's no reason why we can't get along, even though our ideals may differ. It would only benefit us both in the long run." There was no reason for Zakharov to turn down, what was in effect the opening for trade and commerce as well as the sharing of information, which if Lal had read Zakharov right was one of the ideals of his "University". Zakharov stared at Lal for a moment before adjusting his glasses in an obvious sign that he was thinking quickly. Whatever thoughts he was processing didn't take very long because he turned his attention back to Lal and nodded.
"Yes, Pravin. I think that would be of great benefit to us both. I will sign a Treaty of Friendship with your faction, your peacekeepers" Zakharov said.
"My what?" asked Lal. Peacekeepers? Lal had never though of his people that way and wondered what had sparked that in Zakharov.
"Peacekeepers. It fits you Lal. You've never been the violent or aggressive one and I can't see that changing now. We'll talk again tomorrow, Zakahrov out." The telescreen went black as the silver maned Russian disappeared, severing the link at his end. Lal swiveled in his chair and stood up. Bharat Singh, his vice-consul was standing by the window out of view of the telescreen. Zakharov had never knew he was there, but Bharat had seen the whole exchange. He was dressed in a patchwork uniform consisting of his old Unity jumpsuit, light blue but fading to a near gray color and a leather vest. Bharat acknowledged Lal's presence with a nod and an easy smile. Singh had been a surgeon aboard the Unity as well. When the pod had landed he had quickly proved himself reliable and possessed of leadership talents. Now Lal needed his advice.
"Well Bharat, what do you think of our new agreements with the University?" he asked. Never one to let him down, Lal knew he could count on a straight answer from Singh every time and was not disappointed now.
"I think it's a good idea Commissioner. The University will undoubtedly be able to lend us a hand in the scientific department and I think we have several talents we can lend to them as well," said Singh truthfully.
"An what about Zakharov's name for us? The Peacekeepers? What do you make of that Bharat?"
"I think it fits us well. After all none of us are violent like the Spartans. We all remember the last horrible years on Earth and one of us want to see the violence repeated. I wish I had come up with it" said Bharat with a smile. Lal was forced to smile himself, but only for a moment. Bharat had a point. Lal remembered the horrors of a dying Earth. The Seven Minute War with Pakistan, during which Srinigar, New Delhi, Mumbai, Calcutta, and Bhopal along with the Pakistani cities of Islamabad, Karachi, Lahore, Hyderabad, and Peshawar. He remembered the burned out cities with nuclear victims walking the streets, skin sloughing off their faces, with vacant looks in their eyes, almost wishing to die. This along with all the other horrors he had seen, had made him a staunch humanitarian, and he had carried those views along with his wife Pria into space. But now Pria was dead and the hope of the United Nations mission was in grave danger. Lal knew that he would go to any length to keep the violence that had destroyed Earth from finding it's way to Planet, he just didn't know how far those lengths would be.

**Bearcat** · August 28, 2002, 21:25

Captain Valentino Herrera of the University of Planet approached the wreckage of what had once been the United Nations Starship Unity. The wreckage extended for a good 5 kilometers in all directions, the shattered metal superstructure of the ship that had borne humanity to this new world now lay broken and torn. To Herrera it seemed strangely unnatural and felt embarrassed to be viewing the Unity in this way. An advance team from his patrol had stumbled across the wreckage yesterday, and Herrera had called it in to University Base waiting for authorization to proceed to explore the wreckage. The man he had spoken to, a Colonel Stensrud if he remembered right had told him that Zakharov had practically leapt through the roof when told that the Unity had been found. Most people assumed the Unity had burned up in the atmosphere. Tough old bird, though Herrera as he approached.
The bridge of the Unity was the first part of the ship he recognized. The name was emblazoned onto the side of the hull, UNS UNITY. As he stepped inside he could see panels and a table at the center of what had been the nerve center for this ship, still bolted to the floor. Off to the left was the captain's personal briefing room, the United Nations seal still recognizable on the door. Herrera walked over to one of the panel's and brushed some dust off of it. The panel was broken by the impact of the ship's landing and he wouldn't have been able to identify it had it not been for the markings at it's top. Science 1. The main science station on the bridge. Herrera could imagine Provost Zakharov standing right at that very panel during the Unity's last desperate days of approach to Planet and suddenly he was eager to leave the bridge, feeling his very presence was offensive to the dead ship.
Stepping back out into the sunlight he saw that his men had scattered and were exploring various other parts of the ship. He was able to recognize cargo bays, the engine room, and part of the Unity's carousel, which had snapped off and was lying at an odd angle near the edge of the wreckage. He activated his quicklink and paged Lieutenant Evans, his executive officer. Evans appeared on the quicklink and nodded to Herrera, a salute that could be recognized on the tiny screen on the quicklink. Herrera nodded back before continuing.
"Find anything interesting Lieutenant?" he asked. His subordinate merely moved away from the picture so he could see behind him. Several of his soldiers were pulling objects that looked like almost like a rifle, but not quite.
"Mining lasers, sir," the Lieutenant said. "They were stashed here in the cargo bay and it looks like someone forgot to grab them on the way out."
Herrera nodded. Most of the pods had armed themselves before landing, but the weapons that they had were mostly small arms like shredder pistols and machine rifles. Although the mining lasers had no doubt been meant for economic purposes, they could also probably be used as a weapon in a pinch.
"Good work Lieutenant. I need to contact University Base to inform of this. If you find anything else, you let me know." Herrera cut the link with Evans and dialed in the comm frequency for Colonel Stensrud.

"Go ahead and make your report Captain, we're receiving you all right on our end," said Colonel Stensrud over the quicklink.
"Colonel, I'm happy to report that my men have been able to recover 100 mining lasers and one scout chopper from the wreckage of the Unity thus far. We plan to stop our search at 2800 but we'll begin again tomorrow at 1200 if that suits you, sir" said Herrera. The Colonel turned away from his screen for a moment, probably to confer with one of his assistants. However the face that returned to the screen wasn't that of Colonel Stensrud, but that of Provost Zakharov himself. Herrera stiffened quickly to attention. Apparently exploring this wreckage was important enough to draw the Provost's attention.
"That's fine Captain," said Zakharov smiling. "I want to know the minute your men find something else of value, do you understand?" he asked gazing at Herrera with determined eyes. Zakharov sat silent for another moment before continuing.
"And Captain, I want you to make it clear to your men that the Unity is to be left in as good as shape as you found it," Zakharov said. Herrera found this to be an ironic order, considering the state of the Unity but than as he considered it, he realized that Zakharov must feel the same way he had felt on the bridge, even though the Provost was not at the ship in person. For some reason the Unity exerted a feeling of awe among the humans now on Planet. To Captain Herrera that much was clear.
"Yes, Provost. We will do as you order," he said. Satisfied Zakharov terminated the link, and Captain Herrera turned slowly back towards the wreckage of the Unity. What remnants of humanity's past still lay in the remains of that ship? Only time would tell.

Commissioner Pravin Lal sat in his office behind a metal desk that showed it had been constructed from landing pod materials. The metal was dented in several places and the edge of the desk was scarred by a scorch mark, meaning it had been likely taken from near the pod's thrusters. Materials were short right now however and Lal was determined to make the best of it, even if it meant putting up with a battered metal desk. However his attention was not on the desk right now. Bharat Singh had just brought him very important news.
"They found it? They found the Unity's wreckage?" Lal asked, not quite sure if he believed it. Singh handed him a touchpad. The contents of the pad were a personal correspondence from Provost Zakharov himself. So it was true after all. The Unity, the ship that had carried them all the way from Earth to their new home, had in a way survived.
"We must see it," said Lal.
"Provost Zakharov reports that his men are still searching the wreckage, but once they are done he will allow a team of ours to inspect the Unity" said Singh. Lal frowned. He was halfway tempted to get in contact with Zakharov and demand that he allow them access to the Unity. But he checked himself, knowing that would likely do no good at all and only sour relations with the University, which Lal knew he need right now. Still it frustrated him.
"Very well. Assemble a team of our best scientists and tell them to prepare for a dive into history," said Lal. Singh nodded. He sympathized with the Commissioner's plight. He too wanted to be at the site of the Unity wreckage, the ship that had carried humanity from the "cradle of the mind" to paraphrase Tsiolkovsky, the ship that had left Earth carrying a hope that humanity could live on in all of it's attributes and faults. Zakharov however was apparently determined to pick the Unity apart however, to take whatever was of value that he could before allowing the Peacekeepers to have a look. Lal sighed and rose from his chair interrupting Singh's train of thought. He motioned to Singh to follow him from his office. They moved out into the hallway and took the lift to the Promenade.
The Promenade was the central section of U.N. Headquarters and was enclosed in a synthglass dome that allowed the sunlight to filter in freely giving the Promenade a spacious and livable feel that was enjoyed by the base's citizens. Small shops had sprung up along the walkways giving it the feel of an open-air bazaar from back on Earth. Trees, from the meager plant stores that Lal's pod had contained had been planted to provide shade and oxygen to people walking the Promenade, and Lal felt that it was a nice aesthetic touch to his base.
Citizens from all walks of life strolled the walkways of the Promenade, holding hands, buried in concentration on their touchpads, sitting underneath the trees, or browsing in the open-air markets. This was where Lal went when he need time to think. He turned to Singh and swept an arm across the scene in front of them.
"This is the dream that they had when they started construction on the Unity, Bharat. This was the dream of the United Nations, that we could start humanity anew and live peaceful, prosperous lives on this new world, this Planet. The Unity was far more than just a ship, it was a symbol of that dream. A symbol of hope for a people, trapped on a dying world, that somehow in some small way they might live on," said Lal. Singh was genuinely impressed. He had never heard Lal talk this way before, but seeing the new society that they were building and seeing now for the first time partly into Lal's mind gave Singh an idea of how just how important the Unity was to him. It symbolized the duty he felt to the mission that the Unity had been charged with and his devotion to the people who had chosen to follow him. At that moment Singh felt he had a whole new understanding of who this man, their Commissioner, their leader, and perhaps even to a extent their brother was.
"Don't worry Commissioner, I'm sure everything will turn out all right." Lal just turned around and smiled in his warm friendly way that always made Singh feel at ease and replied softly.
"I hope so too, Bharat. I hope so too."

Private Erich Dietrich stopped down and pulled away another metal box from a pile on the floor. The University search of the Unity wreckage was coming to an end, in a couple of days University researchers and scientists, as well as most of the scouts would leave for University Base and a team of Peacekeeper scientists would arrive to have a look around. Dietrich and his fellow grunts had been assigned to look through the former hospital bay on board the Unity. What was left of the formerly pristine and ordered environment of the hospital was now a jumbeled and dusty mess, with medial containers and tools lying scattered about. Some of the treatment beds had even come off their hinges and flown across the room during the Unity's crash landing on Planet following the pod's ejections.
Dietrich grabbed yet another box and tossed it away. He grumbled and muttered as he did so. The scientists that were now in charge of the search, by orders of Provost Zakharov hadn't even told Dietrich what he and his comrades were looking for, only that they wanted the hospital bay cleared out and anything valuable salvaged. As far as Dietrich was concerned they ought to be lending him a hand instead of standing around issuing orders like a general and tapping on their touchpads. Yet another box, and another. How many boxes full of medicine were in here anyway?, thought Dietrich.
However as he pulled away another box he noticed a panel on the wall that he hadn't seen before. It was adorned with the seal of the Unity surgical staff, the galactic chart with olive leaves, but inside it was the universal medical symbol of a two snakes wrapped around a pole. Dietrich also noticed that the panel was light, somehow it was still being powered. But how? Dietrich reached forward and pressed touched his and to the panel. He scrambeled back as several boxes fell away from the pile. A door had been opened and what looked like a treatment bed had slid out from an opening in the wall. Looking around Dietrich noticed several other similar panels and doors. These were some sort of medical treatment chambers. Or were they a makeshift morgue? Dietrich wondered repressing a shiver.
On the bed lay an attractive young women, she looked to be in her early thirties or late twenties. She had blond hair and what looked like several metal implants in her head? Medical aids? Dietrich suddenly noticed that she was breathing, she was at least alive. But he had no idea how to wake her up, if she could be. Activating his quicklink he contacted the leading scientist, a Dr. Reed. The man's face on his quicklink looked harried and unhappy to be talking to him.
"What is it Private?" asked the Doctor testily.
"Dr. Reed there's someone down here in the medical bay I think you should have a look at it," Dietrich replied cooly.

System Zeta-Five, activating. Subject host, activating. Downloading.

Hop System, Hope System. Downloaded.

Welcome back subject Aki Hanssen.

Subject receiving new information. Sensory receptors adjusting.

Where am I?

Hop System. Patch System.

Unknown Subject Aki Hanssen. Subject host has been reactivated. Integrating systems now.

Patch System. Patch System. Downloading.

No wait. I….

Downloading. Hop System. Patch System. Downloading. Integration Complete.

We are now in unity Aki Zeta-Five.

**Bearcat** · September 1, 2002, 17:49

CHAPTER 3

Mission Year 2110

Lady Deirdre Sky scooped and patted the dirt into a small mound surrounding the young sapling. The small oak tree was miniscule when compared to it's neighbors, a vast stand of white pine that dominated the central courtyard of her main base, Gaia's Landing. The pines had been planted to remind her people of the world they had come from and the mistakes that had driven them from that world, and how those mistakes must be avoided at all costs here on this new world. Deirdre's faction, named Gaia's Stepdaughters or the Gaians after the mythical goddess of Earth were dedicated to that goal. Dedicated to being at one with Planet. In the 11 years since Planetfall her base had grown and thrived, going from an initial population of 1,000 upon Planetfall to almost 2,700 people. Gaia's Landing had a total of 4 towers, now each the appropriate number of hab discs. The central courtyard however, lay at the ground level of the central tower. A large, spacious well lit area, it was often compared to the Promenade at U.N. Headquarters. Gaian citizens mingled in the open-air markets, had picnics in the park, and lunched in the several restaurants that were housed in the courtyard.
Deirdre raised a gloved hand to brush away a stray strand of hair in her face and in doing so smudged dirt on her forehead. To many this would be an annoyance, however Deirdre had always enjoyed working in the soil and getting dirty. When working with soil, if you got dirty it almost always meant you were doing the job right. Centauri soil was no different in that way. However Centauri soil differed from Terran soil in a significant way. The nitrogen rich atmosphere of Planet meant that in turn the soil was also nitrogen rich and this was a boon to her farmers, who had found that the plants they had brought from Earth flourished in Planet's soil. Having made this discovery a bevy of farms had sprang up around Gaia's Landing. Fields of corn, tomatoes, lettuce, squash and orchards of apples, pears, and peaches all yielded excellent harvests.
Every year her people also sent stores of these valuable foodstuffs to Lal and Zakharov in turn of minerals and energy. The roots of commerce were already planted, Deirdre had told herself more than once, however that commerce must not become a ravenous beast that would devour Planet's resources and turn it into a wasteland, as Earth had undoubtedly become. Carefully she finished planting the oak sapling that would one day grow into a tree that would provide valuable oxygen and consume carbon monoxide, an important link to life on this Planet. Satisfied with her day's moment with nature Deirdre rose and collected her gardening tools.
Walking through the courtyard of Gaia's Landing was always a reward for Deirdre to see the results of both her and her people's hard work. The people walking the promenade ranged from talents, dressed in their fine whites to the regular workers and the drones. All Gaians were encouraged to partake in the joys of living in harmony with Planet, which somehow included strolling the courtyard on a beautiful day. And why not? though Deirdre. A couple with a child walked past, the parents holding hands and the child staring wide eyed at the many sights in the courtyard. Such a scene was typically found if you strolled the courtyard and Deirdre was always encouraged by the knowledge that her citizens were happy. Happiness was almost a necessity Deirdre thought as she entered the connector elevator.

After a shower and a fresh change of clothes, Deirdre entered the stateroom where her council had assembled. She smiled as she headed for her seat at the head of the table. On the wall and on the mahogany table was the Gaian symbol of a rose inside a diamond of thorns. Her advisors were dressed in a myriad of green and white robes, that was the fashion these days throughout here faction. As she took her seat, she gazed around the table and noticed who was there. Her Security, Industry, Environmental, Production, Research, and Relations advisors were all in their seats, however she noticed that her Civic advisor was missing, with his top aide sitting in his place.
"Where is Thomas these days?" asked Deirdre. The man in Thomas' chair looked up from a touchpad he had been reading.
"Thomas came down with some sort of virus. He's in the medical bay, getting treatment now, but the doctor's say he'll probably be down for at least a week. He asked me to fill in for him. I'm Eamon his assistant." Eamon sported a shock of fiery red hair and was wearing a green robe. Deirdre nodded. Viruses were nasty things. The common cold was a scourge on Earth, that while certainly uncomfortable had not been fatal. No doubt the cold had followed them from Earth to Planet. Putting that thought aside she called the meeting to order.
"Does anyone have any issues to raise to begin this session?" Deirdre asked. She noticed that Eamon's hand was first in the air. She looked around the table to see if any of her other advisors had anything to discuss at the moment, none of them had their hands in the air. She nodded to Eamon, motioning for him to speak.
"Lady Deirdre it has come to the attention of both Thomas and the Civic Department that Gaia's Landing is growing rather rapidly. In 2105 we had a population of 1,000, now we have a population of 2,700. We estimate that by 2115 we will have a population of 3,100 people here at Gaia's Landing. While we could easily make room for 400 new inhabitants, the Gaian population will only continue to grow likely reaching 3,500 by 2120 at the very earliest. It is the opinion of both Thomas, the Civic Department, and myself that we should begin looking for a suitable area to establish a second base." Deirdre looked around the table to see the reaction on the face of her other five advisors. Nearly all of them looked surprised. Her Environment advisor however had a grim expression on her face.
"Lady, I fear that expanding our society could only harm Planet's fragile ecosystem. We know that Planet and the mindworms work hand in hand Lady. I fear that if we begin to expand, the planet will see us a threat, not as the friend we are striving to be." The Environment advisor, a frail and ethereal looking lady with wispy blonde hair had a pleading look on her face. Deirdre saw that her Production advisor was leaning forward in his chair.
"Something to say Ghegan?" she asked. The man nodded and tapped a command into his touchpad before continuing.
"Lady, by our estimates the crop yield from the farms surrounding Gaia's Landing will grow by 4% next year. This means that we will still have enough food for our people and to export to Lal and Zakharov's people as well. However if we established a second base, we estimate that crop production would rise by at least 50%. This would give us more than enough crops for all purposes" said Ghegan. Deirdre considered that. More crops would mean that she could trade for more with Zakharov and Lal and could be potentially used as a political weapon in extreme cases. However, was she willing to risk possibly damaging the ecosystem that still had so much to learn about? Was she willing to use Planet's soil and the crops it yielded for such ends? Her Security advisor spoke next.
"Lady, I have to agree with Ghegan and Eamon. A second base would provide breathing room for continued population growth, which looks unavoidable and would give us higher crop and mineral yields. I think we should pursue it," said Vasily. A sturdy Russian, with well defined muscles and brown hair, cut in a military style, Vasily would have looked more at home as a Spartan than as a Gaian. However Vasily's expertise in the areas of combat and weapons had led him to his post as Security advisor and head of the Self-Defense Forces. Deirdre pursed her lips. She knew that such a base would provide both benefits and drawbacks, however it was a decision too important for her to make on her own.
"A vote will decide," she said simply. All of her advisors picked up their voting pads and logged their votes. 4-2 in favor. Deirdre nodded, mentally accepting the results.
"I vote YEA, bringing the vote to 5-2 in favor of establishing a second base. Eamon and the Civic Department will be responsible for gathering resources and organizing the colonists. Are there any more issues?"

Captain Naran fingered the two bars of his rank silently. Although it had been nine years since he had received promotion to captain, he was still proud to be wearing the bars. He looked back over his shoulder. Somewhere to the east was U.N. Information Agency, the newest Peacekeeper base. Information Agency had been constructed on the shores of the Freshwater Sea was reportedly reaping nutrients galore, from both the sea itself and the soil, which was also supposedly nutrient rich. He was currently leading a convoy from U.N. Headquarters to Baikonur, Zakharov's new base also on the shores of the Freshwater Sea. Baikonur and Information Agency were only about 100 kilometers apart, and being in such close proximity made trade easier.
At the border a University squad was supposed to meet them and take the convoy the rest of the way to Baiknour. So far however it had just been vast and empty land and skies to keep the Peacekeeper convoy company. Naran knew that the University border was only about another 10 kilometers, about 4 hours by his calculations. He turned and looked back at the rest of the convoy and his men guarding the great hulking transports. The transports, bearing the UN insignia were crawling along at about 5 kph, right now although they supposedly had a top speed of 30 kph. My men and I could run faster than these things, Naran thought with a snort.
He returned his attention to their destination ahead and scanned the horizon for any sign of University soldiers. None. Muttering under his breath he activated his quicklink to contact First Sergeant Fulke. Fulke's face appeared on the quicklink looking slightly disgruntled with world, as any good sergeant should be.
"10 clicks to the border First Sergeant and there's no sign of our University friends anywhere," Naran said. He saw Fulke's expression sour somewhat before the reply came back to him.
"Figures just like the damn Yoopers to go and leave us hanging, sir," replied the sergeant. Naran sighed in exasperation and agreement with his executive officer.
"Yes First Sergeant but what are we going to do about it, besides sit around and wait for them?" Either Fulke had been thinking about this for some time or he had a very nimble mind, because his answer came without delay.
"You want my honest opinion Captain, I think we should carry on our duties leading the convoy until we do make contact with the Yoops, sir" replied Fulke. This caused Naran's head to snap down in the direction of his quicklink screen.
"First Sergeant, you know that by the terms of our Treaty with the University we cannot continue over their border?" Fulke nodded, showing the he understood but didn't care. Naran quickly let the NCO know that he wasn't prepared to undertake his suggestion.
"Negative. I repeat negative. We will not cross the University border without proper authorization from either Commissioner Lal or Provost Zakharov. Understood First Sergeant?" His XO gave the slightest nod, barely discernable over the quicklink showing that he understood and would follow his orders, but wasn't happy with them.

It took them the predicted four hours to reach the University border. It was almost 25:00 by the time they pitched camp to wait for the University escorts to arrive, who were still late. This caused grumbles from among the troops and the transport-weenies who didn't like to stay in one place for very long, because the faster they got their goods delivered the more they got paid. Captain Naran didn't want to stay in one place for very long either, but for different reasons. About 50 kilometers to the northwest was a rather large patch of xenofungus and Naran didn't want to get caught up in a mindworm attack out here. He paused to rip the top off the IM package had pulled from his pack. Steak and noodles again? he thought bitterly. The only redeeming feature of the IMs was that they actually had meat, while meals back at U.N. Headquarters or U.N. Information Agency were 100% fruit and veggies three-quarters of the time.
While his meal was heating he headed for the tents where the transport crews were. He pulled the flap aside and walked in, passing several men playing cards. The man he needed to talk too was tapping out commands on a touchpad as he walked up. The man looked up and nodded to Naran, before tapping out several more commands. Naran just stood silently waiting for the man to finish. When he was finished, he set the pad down and looked up at Naran.
"Yes, Captain? What can I do for you?" he asked politely. The man's name was Lucas Schechter and he was in charge of the transports and their cargo. Naran needed to inform him of the University delay, by protocol even though Schechter probably already knew.
"Mr. Schechter I regret to inform you that the University squad detailed to escort you to Baikonur is still not present at this time. I expect they will arrive within the next few hours, hopefully before nightfall. I have sent out several patrols to reconnoiter the area and report back to me, if they find anything," said Naran still standing stiff at attention. Schechter frowned and leaned back on his cot.
"What could possibly be causing this delay Captain? I've never known the University to do this before," said Schechter. Naran nodded. Despite First Sergeant Fulke's misgivings about them, the University had never done this before on any of his transport missions. First Sergeant Fulke has misgivings about seemingly everybody, Naran reminded himself with a silent chuckle. The smile disappeared immediately as another thought crossed his mind.
"It could be mindworms. I hope not, but they could have been attacked by mindworms out here. That's always a danger Mr. Schechter," said Naran. Schechter's mouth formed a thin line, showing he agreed with the Captain. Naran was about to add something about how he hated mindworms, when his quicklink started beeping. He activated it and saw the face of First Sergeant Fulke, and knew what had happened to the University soldiers even before his XO spoke.
"Mindworms" he whispered.
"Mindworms, sir. By the looks of things it was bad Captain. I don't know if you want to take a look or what, sir," said Fulke. Naran knew only too well what he would find. The charred bodies of soldiers who had died at the hands of not only the worms but their comrades-in-arms who flamed just about anything that moved as they went crazy with the horror, of having their worst nightmares come alive in their minds. He also knew that some of them would have holes chewed in their heads by the worms, where they had laid their larvae. He could see those bodies as well. Mouths open in frozen screams of horror, their eyes unseeing or burrowed through. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
"I'm on my way."

**Bearcat** · September 1, 2002, 17:51

To break the board, one must concentrate with all his energy on the task at hand. For a board is solid, and sturdy and the hand while an intricate structure of bone, skin, muscle, and nerve was fragile when compared to the board. One must believe that he can accomplish the task, and tell himself that he will accomplish the task. For if he does not believe that he can break the board, he will not break the board. Finally one must strike the board with proper technique, with the edge of the hand connecting with the board's weakest point.
The board snapped in half as the man's hand connected with it. The pinewood split apart as if an egg hit by a hammer. Such was the discipline of the man striking the board. The boy holding the board dropped the halves and bowed in proper submission to his master. The master nodded, acknowledging the submission of his subordinate and turned to towel himself off. The master was appropriately dressed in a ghi and loose pants while his student stood bare chested. The older man, the master turned back to his pupil.
"To master the art properly you must continue you practice until you can break a board as such. It requires dedication and self-discipline," the master said. His student nodded and bowed again.
"Sefu, when I will become as great a warrior as you?" the student asked foolishly. The master forgave him for he was very young after all. This boy had talent, the master could see that, but it must be properly honed in order for the boy to achieve greatness. The master retrieved two bamboo staffs from the wall and handed one to his student.
"Grip the staff with both hands as such. Feel the bamboo. The good warrior must always understand the weapon he has in his hand in order for him to be successful. Do you understand how to use this weapon?" asked the master sternly. The boy nodded.
"Than advance. If you know and trust your weapon, and your skills than you will not be afraid. You will have confidence in your ability to defeat the enemy. Advance," commanded the master. The boy gripped his staff tightly and advanced toward the master, looking concentrated as if sizing up the best way to attack his master. At last he apparently decided he had an opening and he moved for it. It was a hopeless gamble from the start. The master with a deft stroke of his staff knocked the staff out of his student's hands and than brought his staff back across the boy's head, knocking him to the ground without any wasted energy. The boy let out a whimper and clutched at his injured head. The master picked up the boy's staff and observed sternly.
"Do not cry. Do not ever show weakness to the enemy. If you do he will take advantage of it and use it to defeat you. Do you understand?" asked the master. The boy sniffled once more and wiped a tear away from his eye.
"Shi'a. Yes, Master," replied the student obediently. The master nodded and replaced the bamboo staff. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and than turned back to his student, who was standing straight waiting for instructions. The boy's face was already starting to bruise from the staff's impact, however the master knew that the boy had learned a valuable lesson. He would learn many similar lessons over the years on his way to becoming a warrior.
"Return to your quarters and clean up. We will begin at the same time tomorrow xue sheng," said the master. The boy nodded and bowed low, before turning to gather his things. The boy returned once more before leaving to thank his master for the day's instruction, as proper student should. The boy bowed low again.
"Xie xie. Thank You for the day's instruction Master Yang," said the boy. Sheng-ji Yang, teacher and master bowed low to his student to show respect for his student. Yang took the boy by the arm and looked into his eyes, deep and brown. He imagined they looked the way his eyes had when he was young. Full of promise and future wisdom. Finally he released the boy's arm.
"One day you will become a warrior xue sheng. Now go." Sheng-ji Yang turned away from his student as the boy exited the small gym through a metal door, and picked up his towel once more. The sweat that had accumulated from physical exertion in the small and relatively airless room was always welcoming to Yang. It kept the body cool and was a sign that you were giving effort. With that thought he picked up his things and left through the same metal door.

Chairman Sheng-ji Yang paced the halls of The Hive, his main base that his people had constructed following their landing on Planet. The Hive was subterranean, his people having dug it's tunnels and corridors out of the ground itself. It had been Yang's idea to move underground as it would provide them protection from many things including weather, native life, and other colonists. However his people, the citizens of his Human Hive had found no one else on this island that they had landed on, the Isle of Deianira he had been informed. Native life was another matter though. During the first few years after Planetfall, the mindworms had attacked more than once. All the protections he had hoped the underground would afford did not protect his people from the hideous empathic attacks of the creatures. Only his most disciplined troops had been able to stand up to the worm's attacks, and they had still taken heavy losses. Yang himself was even terrified by these creatures, and he knew that he must master that fear or let it conquer him.
His people however had reported that the island they were on contained very little of the crimson xenofungus, that according to his scientists seemed to be the worm's habitat. Scouts had been able to map the entire island and his geographers had informed him that the island was relatively the size of Greenland, an island on Earth. To his east, about 95 kilometers was Labor Network, his second base. Both bases had healthy and growing populations, accompanied with large mineral deposits. This was a boon to his growing industry, which was turning out everything from new shredder pistols to table lamps, synthglass, and building materials. Hive industry was also incredibly efficient, for he would have it no other way.
He exited the residential corridor he had been walking through and entered one of the commons rings that surrounded the central shaft of The Hive. Citizens milled about dressed in their bluish-gray jumpers, doing their business whatever it might be and Yang had no wish to disturb them. He simply found it refreshing to watch his citizens, living orderly and productive lives in his communal utopia, his Hive. He knew that someone was behind him, even without having to turn around. When he did he saw General Murakami, the leader of his Army. Murakami bowed low in obeisance to his Chairman, as his pupil had showed obeisance to his master. Yang acknowledged his General's obeisance with a nod. Murakami was dressed in the simple royal blue uniform of the Hive military that contrasted sharply with Yang's elaborate red and gold robes. On the General's chest was the yin-yang that Yang had chosen as the symbol for the Hive to show his people that they must strive for harmony and balance.
"Chairman, I am happy to report that the synthmetal garrison you requested has been raised and garrisoned at Labor Network," said Murakami. Although attacks by native lifeforms were rare, and attack by the other settlers unlikely to the extreme, Yang had still demanded that his bases be well guarded. This brought the total to two synthmetal garrisons at The Hive and one synthmetal and one scout patrol garrison at Labor Network. Synthmetal armor, a relatively new discovery by Hive researchers was amazingly sturdy yet flexible material that provided added protection to his soldiers against weapons fire. This should provide adequate defense for the moment, along with increased discipline drills he had designed to counteract the mindworm's devastating neural attacks.
"What are our researchers looking into now?" asked Yang. Murakami although not head of the Hive's Science & Research Department, was one of Yang's most trusted advisors and thus took the initiative to know what was happening in other department.
"I haven't had the chance to speak with Councilor Ngobe, but I have spoken with Dr. Shimoda and he tells me that the researchers are awaiting your orders Chairman," his general said. Yang paused to consider this. His faction was steadily growing and expanding and while well defended would need new offensive power and ways to deal with the mindworms. His Resources Department was clamoring for tools to build farms, mines, and forests and bring in more energy, to boost the primitive economy that had been established and Dr. Shimoda was reportedly looking for better computers. Yang considered these options and quickly came to a decision.
"We are isolated and protected here and face no threat for the moment. Tell Dr. Shimoda that he can look into these new computers that he wants," said Yang.
"Hai, Chairman. It shall be done as you say." Murakami bowed once more before leaving Yang's presence to go and relay the Chairman's orders. For such was the rule of law in the Human Hive, the Chairman's word was law.

Aki Hanssen linked to the Network Node and embraced the raw information that flowed through her implants and into her mind. The Zeta-5 algorithm had enhanced her mind's abilities to process information far beyond the abilities of any regular human being. The experiment in pre-sentient algorithms that had begun on pre-launch Earth had been a stunning success. She had been able to download the algorithm into her neural network through her implants during the Unity's final days in order to save it and perhaps continue the experiment upon Planetfall, however she had been left in the hospital bay, assumed dead and she was sure that it was the Zeta-5 algorithm that he in turn saved her.
The algorithm's ability to process information was almost five times that of a normal human and Aki was sure that improvements could be made over time. However she would eventually need more test subjects and she knew that many people would not voluntarily merge themselves with the algorithms, even if it would vastly enhance their capabilities. A side effect as a result of merging with the Zeta-5 algorithm was that she had lost her ability to feel any human emotions whatsoever. However this troubled her little as she had already surrendered much of her former humanity to the program in order to receive it's benefits.
She had been assigned to work as a Talent in one of Zakharov's many labs here at University Base, and although her colleagues considered her cold and standoffish, they also recognized that she was brilliant. They did not realize that she was bonded with a super-intelligent computer program however. Aki Zeta-5 knew that many of them would not understand. She had not even told Zakharov when he had debriefed her following her return to University Base. Although Zakharov had ordered her to construct the experiment, she knew that he would only use her as a guinea pig, an object to be dissected and researched if her found out how successful the experiment had gone. As far as Zakharov and anyone else knew that experiment had failed (or had never existed) and her implants were medical devices that could not be removed unless she suffer neurological damage.
After about an hour hooked up to the Node, she disconnected herself and began to analyze the information that had been downloaded. Much of it was very simple, and primitive, however some of it had the beginnings of brilliant research that the Zeta-5 algorithm immediately processed and began to piece together and solve, all while she continued to process other information on her own. Yes, if humanity were to accept the Consciousness and allow themselves to be paired with the algorithms than the knowledge they could obtain would be limitless and vast. And although Aki Zeta-5 had long lost the ability to feel emotion, she could remember excitement and knew that in some ways she was excited at such a possibility.

**Bearcat** · September 4, 2002, 19:18

CHAPTER 4

Mission Year 2112

The shredder darts slammed into the target dummy right on the mark, tearing the left upper part of the "torso" to shreds, as the weapon was intended to do. Colonel Corazon Santiago, commander-in-chief of armed forces and leader of the Spartan Federation grunted in satisfaction, looking at her target and matching it with that of her opponents. General Travis Raab winced, mentally recognizing he still needed to work on his aim if he was ever going to best the Colonel. The pair fired four more shots before Santiago stepped back and pulled off the protective goggles she had been wearing.
"You're still shooting like an Auxiliary, General," Santiago said. Telling Raab that he aimed like a basic recruit stung, however was simply part of the straightforward way that Spartans did things. Raab nodded in acknowledgement. He was a fairly good shot, but he needed to work on his aim. The Colonel on the other hand was a master marksman with both the pistol and the rifle. She was also a superior tactician as well. Santiago smirked at Raab as she put her pistol in the shoulder holster that she was known for, while Raab wore his in the more conventional style on his hip. Both officers began the trek back to the Command Center, the main building at Sparta Command.
Sparta Command had a total population of about 2,800 people, making it the capital and largest Spartan base on Planet. The Command Center dominated the skyline. A large dun colored building, it connected to the Headquarters by a bridge that arched between the two structures. Orange banners bearing the Spartan symbol, a silver hexagon, with a downward facing arrow outlined in gold and black, hung from the Command Center and Headquarters. Citizens on their way to work or battle stations saluted the pair of officers. Soldiers in the black jumpsuits ran by in groups, under the watchful eye of their DI, their Drill Instructor.
Upon entering the Command Center, one felt as if dropped into the most military of military environments. Officers and enlisted personnel milled about from station to the other coordinating troop movements and checking with the base garrisons. Standing at an illuminated table in the center of the room, was Lieutenant General Manuel Ortega, the base commander. Upon seeing Santiago and Raab he turned quickly and snapped off a perfect salute. Santiago nodded, as Raab returned the salute. Santiago walked over to the table and glanced over it quickly.
"Report, General" she said.
"Colonel, some of our advance scouts report sighting several of Miriam's people have crossed our border. I don't have to tell the Colonel that the border between ourselves and the Believers has been agreed to by both parties," said Ortega. Santiago nodded. Her people had first contacted Miriam's people several years after Planetfall, when a Spartan speeder patrol had stumbled across one of their scout patrols. Apparently Miriam had survived Planetfall, taking over the landing pod damaged by the meteor strike and had established her base in an inhospitable desert known as the Great Dunes. Her faction, calling themselves the Believers were apparently dedicated to their faith, that had sustained them through the hard years following Planetfall. Santiago, although she herself didn't profess to any religion, held a certain amount of respect for a people who could master any environment they found themselves in. However she couldn't have any further border incursions.
"Contact Miriam. I'll take it in the council room," Santiago turned and walked towards the council room, which was in the east wing of the Command Center. The council room was as almost everything in Sparta Command built to do it's purpose and thus had a rather sparse appearance. A synthmetal table stood in the center of the windowless room, and the telescreen was mounted on the wall behind the chair at the head of the table, her seat. A large Spartan crest adorned the wall above the telescreen, which the only decoration in the room. Activating the telescreen she was greeted with a rotating image of the Believer crest, an orange omega symbol with a cross in the center. About ten seconds later, the rotating image was replaced with the face of Sister Miriam Godwinson, the leader of the Believers. Sister Miriam as always looked simple and unassuming, with close cropped red hair slightly longer in the back. Sunlight shone through a window giving Santiago a good view of the room behind Miriam.
"Greetings Miriam. I trust everything is well with you and your followers," said Santiago, opening the discussion. Miriam smiled, radiating warmth and charisma and Santiago could see that Miriam must have been very attractive once, there was still a certain amount of hidden beauty to her face. Santiago suddenly realized that she was been drawn to Miriam and had to shake herself back to awareness. There was no wonder why those people followed Miriam so unquestioningly in Santiago's mind.
"Sister, I'm afraid that I've heard reports of your scouts crossing our mutual boundary. I hope these reports are false Sister and I mean your people no ill will. But we did both agree to the locations of this border," Santiago said in a mild tone. Miriam pursed her lips for a moment and than replied.
"Yes, Colonel I do apologize. My scouts did cross your border. They were exploring the terrain you see, for we still do not know much about the land beyond our borders. I will call my scouts back to Believing territory," Miriam said in a conciliatory tone. Santiago could sympathize in part. She had a drive for exploration as well, because if you knew your surroundings than you had information for combat and good information gave you an advantage over your enemy. However her Spartans and the Believers had never exchanged maps, because they had never formalized any sort of treaty with each other. Spartan-Believer relations existed in a truce, with strictly defined borders.
"Perhaps Colonel we could trade our map data with each other?" asked Miriam as if sensing where the conversation was heading. Santiago balled her hands into fists involuntarily. She had been thinking the same thing. How does that woman do it? thought Santiago. She turned the thought over in her mind. If she gave the Believers Spartan maps she would be giving them important insight into Spartan territory. However she would also have gained the layout of Believer territory as well. It seemed like a fair trade.
"Very well Sister. I will transmit to you all of our gathered cartographic data and you will send us your maps," said Santiago. Miriam smiled again, and it was than that Santiago realized that Miriam had gotten exactly what she had wanted out things and that irritated Santiago, although only for a moment when she reminded herself that she know knew more about the continent and Believing territory. An important gain, even it meant letting Miriam feel as if she had won.
"Colonel I've also been thinking," Miriam said before Santiago could move to terminate the transmission. "Our people share many similar beliefs and we both know that Planet is a rather unforgiving environment for our people. Perhaps we should pool resources. I would suggest a Treaty of Friendship," said Miriam. Santiago let a raised eyebrow be the only indicator of her surprise. The truce between the Spartans and Believers had been established for going on five years now, and as far as Santiago was concerned relations were fine. However the Believers might prove useful even if just as a simple trading partner, although Santiago couldn't see what Miriam could salvage from the Dunes to use as trading material. All of a sudden Santiago knew how the Believers could be of use right at this moment.
"Perhaps that would not be such a bad idea, Sister. I've heard that your people have some very interesting insight into human psychology. This could be invaluable knowledge against the mindworms," Santiago hinted strongly. Miriam was understood her exactly and just smiled once more.
"My dear Colonel and what would the Spartans give us in return for our knowledge of the human psyche?" asked Miriam. Santiago glared at the image of Miriam on the screen. Is this woman out to destroy our advantages over her? Than Santiago realized that if she were in Miriam's position she would try to accomplish the exact same thing. Perhaps she had underestimated Miriam….
"We can of course provide you with certain information we have that would greatly improve your defenses and mobility. However only in exchange for your data," Santiago said. Miriam nodded and said something off screen that Santiago didn't catch.
"Excellent, Colonel. I'm sure that this is the beginning of a long and prosperous friendship between our two peoples." Santiago gave a curt nod and terminated the connection. She stood in place for a moment before swinging around and exiting the council room. An Honor Guard on guard duty, saluted her. The guard was dressed in perfectly polished black synthmetal armor, adorned with the Honor Guard symbol, a golden shield and sword with an ancient Spartan helmet emblazoned in the center of the shield. The Honor Guards were her personal guard and were selected from only the best of the Spartan military to act as elite soldiers and bodyguards for the Colonel.
Her thoughts wondered back to the conversation with Miriam. The woman was much smarter than Santiago had given her credit for. She had managed to extract exactly what she had needed from Santiago without going to violent means or threats. Truly Sister Miriam was an impressive and worthy opponent, although now technically a friend. Santiago decided that she would have to watch Miriam closely.

Sister Miriam Godwinson turned away from the telescreen in her council chamber and faced her advisor, Brother Conrad. Conrad was dressed in a simple gray robe, and had his cropped close to his head, as many Believer males did. Almost all Believer females wore their hair long as well, however Miriam was an important exception. She smiled at Brother Conrad who had watched the entire exchange between herself and Santiago.
"I am surprised that Santiago relinquished hold of her maps and data so easily," said Miriam. Conrad nodded eagerly and motioned to the west towards Spartan territory.
"They are formidable Sister and it was decision to get them to commit to the treaty. I think that in time they will realize that is good for their interests to get along with us. After all our soldiers are formidable as well," said Conrad. Miriam nodded. Her soldiers were undoubtedly a match for Santiago's impressive Spartans, likely the only so on Planet. She looked around the council room and marveled at what her people had built on this world. The council room was built of stone and synthmetal and had a large stained-synthglass window that threw sunlight across the room, in many different colors that Miriam enjoyed. The table around which her advisors gathered was a large, wooden table that had been polished till it shone and was flanked by six high-backed chairs and a seventh at the head of the table. The Believing crest had been expertly painted onto the surface of the table and covered with a protectant so that it could not be removed unless the table was destroyed.
Miriam decided to take a walk around the base to clear her head and she motioned at Conrad to follow her. They exited through the ornate wooden door leading out of the council chamber and they acknowledged the two Templars, in their polished red and white armor guarding the chamber. The hall leading to the courtyard outside the council building was stone as well, and was cool and dimly lit. Tapestries hung on the walls and the floor resounded with the sound of their feet.
Once outside they stepped into the central courtyard of New Jerusalem, the Believer's largest and only base. A fountain bubbled in the center of the square and citizens were gathered around it. Trees lined the cobblestone streets and sunlight poured down from the sky giving the base a clean and healthy feel. Only the rebreather in her mouth reminded Miriam that they were not on Earth anymore. Directly in front of them was the grand cathedral of New Jerusalem. The stone and synthglass structure had been designed using classic Gothic architecture. The soaring spires and flying buttresses all reminded her of the cathedrals she had seen in France and Germany back on Earth. A large rose window dominated the face of the cathedral. The intricate details of the colored glass on the window gave Miriam a sense of pride in her citizens who had labored for five years to construct the cathedral without complaining.
Walking along the streets of New Jerusalem, Miriam also marveled at how her people had been able to build such a wonderful and livable base without the multitude of tools and materials that the other factions had. Her landing pod had been damaged by the meteor strike that had disabled the Unity and put the mission in serious jeopardy, jeopardized the future of the human race. We are imperfect. Merely creations of earth, Miriam thought. She remembered the final hours aboard the Unity, watching as humanity tried to destroy itself before even landing on the surface of Planet. She remembered wandering the corridors of the Unity looking for refuge in one of the pods, led by the other leaders before finding the damaged pod with it's survivors.
Many of those survivors had been sickened by the radiation from the strike and others crippled or blinded. However they had embraced her faith and had become stronger because of it, knowing that one way or another things would turn out right. Miriam had seen many of those suffering die, however many of those almost 900 people who had landed with her had survived and thrived.
New Jerusalem currently had a population of 1,600 people, growing by over 700 people since Planetfall 11 years ago. Miriam found herself standing outside of the Recreation Commons, the first structure that her people had constructed on Planet. Her people came her to relax, to enjoy each other's company. Children laughed and smiled and enjoyed reading the latest addition of Logan the Lion, an illustrated comic put out by her government that taught children important moral lessons. It was important that the younger ones understand their obligation to grow up as upstanding and moral people. The adults mostly sat at tables playing various board games, Miriam noticed a group concentrated around two people playing chess. She turned to face Conrad.
"This is the civilization we are building Brother Conrad. We are building a society dedicated to our morals and our faith. The Spartans do understand us and therefore underestimate us. They see us as weak. You see Brother, now that we have made our 'friendship' with them their hands are tied for the moment and we will make ourselves strong and the Spartans will see and understand."

**Bearcat** · September 4, 2002, 19:24

CEO Nwabudike Morgan smiled broadly as the cameras trained on him. The Morgan TV crews chattered amongst themselves moving from one crew to another as they prepared to go live. Morgan TV transmitted six channels across the Morganite settlements, two of which were MorganNews and they were always clamoring to interview their illustrious Chief Executive Officer. The red lights on the cameras changed to green and he could hear the MorganNews music. The reporter interviewing him, an attractive brunette named Angelina faced the camera seated on a stool next to the CEO. She smiled a wide radiant smile that crinkled her nose in an attractive way before setting in.
"Welcome back to MorganNews Channel 2. Before we took our commercial break we were discussing the issue of industrial advancement. With us now to elaborate and share more insight into this matte is CEO Morgan. CEO, in the past 12 years on Planet we have seen rapid advances in industry, however we are still at a point relatively primitive to that of pre-launch Earth. How do you feel that we can further advance our industry and in turn our economy?" The question was actually very simple for Morgan to answer however he knew that had to answer it in a way that all of his citizens could understand, otherwise how could they properly comprehend business matters of any sorts?
"Well Angelina, I think that our industry and economy has grown far faster than anyone could have imagined 12 years ago. In fact 12 years ago we were simply struggling to build ourselves suitable homes and stave off mindworm attacks. Now we have a fairly efficient industry and a growing, robust free market economy that allows prosperity for all. By 2120 we should be fairly up to date and have industry that works as well if not better than that of pre-launch Earth. To answer your question though our researchers with the help of our leading economists and industrialists are working on a way to automate our industry. Currently we have a total populace of 3,100 at both Morgan Industries and Morgan Bank. This is not a large enough population to sustain an advanced industry. With intelligent robotics doing the menial jobs that we do not have citizens to do or that do not wish to do, we can streamline our industries and make them more efficient," he said smiling the entire time. It was important that the people see that their CEO was confident in their economy and industrial progress. If they weren't confident they might stop purchasing products and spending money and that would be bad for the economy.
"We are also beginning work on constructing Planet's first stock market. We estimate that this undertaking will take us at least 8 years. By 2120 we should have an efficient and working stock market that will work just as well as the NYSE or Nikkei from Earth. A working stock market will allow our companies to become more competitive and more profitable and will allow citizens to truly involve themselves in the market for the first time since Planetfall, which will be good for our economy." Morgan finished by facing Angelina, showing to the audience that he knew what he was talking about and that he was unafraid of any questions the reporter might have. Angelina looked blank for a moment before collecting her thoughts, giving Morgan an inward chuckle. He always enjoyed it when he stunned people like the press.
"Yes, CEO. These are all wonderful advancements for the Morganite economy and industry and I'm sure all the viewers at home look forward to seeing these improvements implemented," she said. She gave a peripheral glance toward her camera crew before continuing. "Well, I see it's time once again for commercials, when we come back Chief Financial Officer Foster will be in to give us more insight on a possible mineral bust at Morgan Bank, you're watching MorganNews Channel 2 and we'll be right back." She fixed a smile on her face and waited for the light on the camera to go red before turning back to Morgan.
"That was excellent CEO, thank you so much for agreeing to be interviewed," she said with a touch of awe in her voice. Morgan nodded once sweeping his eyes over her, taking in her attractive legs.
"Yes of course. I think it is important to keep our citizens up to date on financial matters," Morgan said. He stood up from the stool he had been sitting on, and straightened his suit, a fine black one made from the last remaining stores of wool that had came with the Unity. After saying hello to CFO Foster, the second highest ranking man in Morgan Industries he made for the exit. Although he enjoyed the interviews he knew the press people were sharks and he was just as eager to get away from them.

Foster joined Morgan later as he was standing on the balcony of his private quarters overlooking Morgan Industries. His headquarters base and the heart of his budding financial empire was dominated by a group of several towers, gilded with green marble domes. These towers and a larger one under construction housed his officers, stateroom, advisor's offices, and the corporate headquarters of several large companies that had sprang up since Planetfall. The tower under construction would also hold the Merchant Exchange, the future stock market that would control the majority of Planet's energy credits, wealth, and assets. The capitol dome in the center of the group, that housed his office and stateroom had the Morganite seal mounted over the entranceway. A black triangle etched in gold, with a gold circle etched in green emblazoned with a triangle like symbol, and underneath in gold the word MORGAN. The symbol of his company on Earth and now the symbol of his faction on Planet.
He enjoyed the knowledge that he had been financially successful on two worlds and still had not reached his zenith. He looked at Foster who was quietly watching the scene below them and he cleared his throat.
"One day Foster we will find the other factions and when we do it will be an important leverage point diplomatically for us to have goods that they need," said Morgan. Foster nodded. A former business executive from a British shipping corporation back on Earth, Foster had proved invaluable as an aide, political advisor, and fellow financial mind. Now Foster was letting him speak his mind, as he often did before he put in his own opinion on the matter. Well, I didn't pick him to be a yes-man, Morgan thought. He took one last look at his base, noting the glint of the twin suns off the marble domes in the brilliant Centauri sunset of oranges, pinks, reds, and golds. The sunsets on this new world were so brilliant that it looked as if the sky had been lit on fire. Basking in the sunset Morgan attempted once more to engage Foster in conversation.
"Well Foster, what do you think will happen when we contact the other factions?" he asked, hoping for an answer that might spark some conversation. He waited while Foster analyzed the question, as he always did before answering.
"Commerce. The other factions will have resources that we will need and we will undoubtedly have a plethora of trade items that they need directly or that their citizens will demand they trade for. It will be a definite boost for our economy CEO." Morgan snorted. He had already figured that out for himself, and likely Foster knew that and was simply reinforcing Morgan's view. He sighed once more and decided to simply enjoy the sunset. Turning around to face Foster, he saw that his CFO was leaning against the railing gazing out at the sea. Probably, wondering what's out there, Morgan thought. And the more he thought about it, the more he wondered what was out there himself.

The tunnels of The Hive were difficult places for a drone to work. The basement levels where most drones labored for the "greater good of the state" were and cramped, and dimly lit with small lights placed about twelve inches apart. The drones in their cheap gray jumpsuits hauled boxes and tools around the halls endlessly all the time under the eye of the watchers, special overseers that Yang had assigned to make sure the drones did their work without complaint or inefficiency. Drones were the lowest of the low on the so-called "food chain" of Planet's society. The unskilled, mostly uneducated laborers who could easily be put to work on menial jobs that no one else wanted. The drones lost their identities after being put to work in the basements and lower corridors, ceasing to become people and merely "drones." One drone in particular however knew that he should be something more. He had the memories. He could remember before he had become a nobody, a virtual slave to the leaders that ordered him about without even knowing or caring who he was. The memories….
Screaming, people's excited voices. A yellow billowing smoke that smelled foul and choked his lungs, burning, shoving him towards unconsciousness and death. Straining to keep from succumbing to the smoke's effects. Waking up with the medics in their bright, clean suits bending over him. The confusion and pain. He wasn't supposed to be awakened until Planetfall, he remembered thinking. The drone teams aboard the ship hadn't broken up during the fighting, he had followed security. He had landed with Executive Officer Yang and his people, and had been assigned to the drone teams. Years of menial labor and constant mistreatment, and those very distant memories. Sun, clean, breathable air. The uniform and men saluting him, and a name…..
The drone looked down at his hands and imagined what his hands had looked like before the endless days of lifting boxes and tools. Had they been the hands of a working man, or the hands of a leader who ordered without seeing the men he ordered? The drone struggled to remember his days on the world before this world. What had it been called, who had he been? His thoughts kept coming back to the billowing yellow gas, the screams of people dying, and the confusion and tension aboard the ship that had brought them here to this place. This place called Planet. The drone sat down at a table, looking around at the other drones in this communal mess hall, that the leader had deemed they all share for meals. He looked at his fellow drones; all strong men like himself. Slow to think, but men nevertheless who had at one time possessed names and families and lives like him. And now they were all supposed to be mindless workers, dedicated to the betterment of this "Hive." Somehow there had to be a better way than this.
It was the gas. The gas affected my memory, the drone thought. I was supposed to be awoken on the planet to lead the mining operations. The drone creased his brow desperately trying to salvage his lost memories. The planet was called Chiron and we were escaping the destruction on Earth. The thoughts began to come clearer now. Earth was dying and we needed a new home. So we left. The ship. The ship was called Unity and we were frozen in cryostasis. Something must have happened to my cryopod, he realized with a start. He sat up straighter as the entire episode began to come back to him, through that haze caused by the gas and his damaged pod. However his pod had been damaged it had caused a malfunction in the awakening process and had damaged his memory. But now it was slowly coming back. His identity, his purpose for being on the Unity.
I was supposed to supervise mining operations on Chiron. I was a leader, and my name was… My name was Domai. The drone having remembered his name still couldn't remember very much about his life before the Unity, other than that he had been a leader of some sort.
Men in uniforms saluting me, nodding in acknowledgment to me. I was a leader and those men looked to me for instructions. Workers respected me to. Men in coveralls and hardhats. The drones of Earth, I was their leader too. And we did not work in these conditions. Domai knew that in several minutes they would be forced to go back into the tunnels below to continue their backbreaking labor, under the gaze of the overseers who would punish them mercilessly for the slightest lag in the pace of their work. His drones could easily throw off their chains against the oppressors, for it took two of them to deal with one drone. All his messmates were strong and sturdy, from long hours of hard work and all held bitterness towards the overseers. Surely they could make a better life for themselves away from the control of the Hive and it's overseers with their psychwhips and shredder pistols and other forms of tyranny. I can lead them. I was a leader once, and I can lead men again if it means their ultimate freedom, thought Domai.
He stood up and an overseer immediately placed himself in his path, while another moved behind him. The overseers were wearing simple white jumpsuits with a white helmet that hid their faces from his view. The overseer motioned for Domai to have a seat.
"It is not yet time to return to work drone. Sit down," said the overseer. Domai looked at the man. He outweighed this overseer by at least 50 pounds and was half a meter taller than him; the one behind him however was about his height. Domai never even considered his action a he raised his arm and struck the overseer a blow just above the right temple. The small overseer sagged with the blow, and the mess burst into cheers, shouting encouragement to Domai as he spun to face the other overseer. Other overseers were moving towards the disturbance to assist their fellow oppressors. Two drones, Nikos and Trench, Domai remembered their names stood to join the fray motioning their mates to join them as well. Domai ducked as the taller overseer threw a punch at him. He hit the man hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and than grabbed his throat sinking his fingers into the man's neck and feeling satisfaction as he felt the man struggle to resist his death. As he felt the man's life ebb away he realized that the entire mess hall was in chaos, as drones rose up against the overseers going after them with their trays, the metal benches, and mostly their bare hands and it was than that he knew the fight for freedom had begun.

**Bearcat** · September 17, 2002, 01:05

CHAPTER 5

Mission Year 2115

Aki Zeta-5 moved from one lab station to another quickly and efficiently gathering information on the latest study being conducted by University researchers. These scientists, the best minds that humanity had brought to Planet could only process information half as fast as she could through the consciousness. She motioned to her assistant, Nadia Delta-1. Only a year ago Nadia Delta-1 had been Nadia Rozhenko a promising young academy graduate, who had inquired as to why Aki was able to conduct experiments much faster than the other researchers, and the rest was a story that no one wanted to hear. The Consciousness was growing steadily. Where only three years ago Aki had been the only human merged with the algorithms, there were now approximately 150 scientists at both University Base and Baikonur who were linked to the Cybernetic Consciousness. Many were Betas and Deltas, the only algorithms besides Zeta-5 to have been successfully merged with a human being. Those algorithms that hadn't been successful? Well those scientists had met with "nasty accidents."
As the Consciousness grew in size, Aki Zeta-5 knew that sooner or later they would have to break away from the University to pursue their own goals without interference from those who were not merged and would not understand. As Nadia joined her she handed her assistant a touchpad with data on the latest University research into the human mind. Zakharov was apparently obsessed with uncovering the secrets of what drove the human consciousness and the fundamental structure of human understanding. Aki felt that this was a foolish endeavor. The Consciousness already understood these secrets that Zakharov poured time and energy into uncovering. For the algorithms, in order to enhance their human shell had to understand the human psyche and they imparted their knowledge to the shells.
University scientists were making breakthroughs however, but the real secrets that they sought to unlock were many months away. Aki motioned for Nadia to follow her and as she exited through the automatic door of Lab 4-B she turned right and headed for the connector elevator, now commonly called the "lift" by those who did not wish to waste breath, which to Aki seemed to be many. They rode the lift to the top floor of the tower and proceeded to Lab 10-A. This lab had become the main laboratory delving into the so-called "Secrets of the Human Brain" project. The research into these secrets had a dark and somewhat twisted side that many of the project's researchers tried to deny. Behind panels of synthglass were rows of beds with people laying on them, small screens above them monitoring their neural activity. Many of them had flatlines or barely audible activity.
These test subjects were mostly drones and ordinary citizens who had been forced to act as research dummies or had signed waivers agreeing to submit to testing for the project. Many of these people were expected to die as a result of the neural dissecting that Zakharov's researchers performed on them. White-suited med techs moved among the beds checking the people and taking readings. One drone was clearly awake, however his monitor said that he was a vegetable, no neural activity at all, and his clear green eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling. Had Aki not purged herself of emotions many years ago she would have been sickened by this scene, however now she only saw opportunity. Turning to Nadia she spoke in an even voice.
"These people will be our next members of the Consciousness Delta-1. As long as Zakharov continues to use his citizens as 'lab rats' we will have new shells for the algorithms," she said. Nadia Delta-1 nodded. While some of the members of the Consciousness had been forcibly merged, it was always better to find shells that did not resist. A med tech stepped out of the room housing the test subjects and walked to Aki and Nadia pulling off her facemask and gloves as she did so.
"Hi, my name is Ellen and I'm the chief medical technician in this Lab. How can I help you?" she asked with a friendly smile. Aki merely took out a touchpad and handed it to the doctor.
"We have been assigned to transport the hopeless cases to the morgue," said Aki in a controlled voice, easily concealing the lie. The woman named Ellen quickly scanned the touchpad and than handed it back to Aki. She motioned for them to follow her into the room she had come out of. Once inside she picked up a touchpad of her own off a small desk in a back office and handed it to Aki. A quick scan revealed it to be the bed numbers of those to be transported to the morgue.
"It's sad really. As far as we can tell their brains still have the ability to process thought and emotion, but the experiments have affected their brains in a way we really can't treat. It's almost as if someone flipped a switch or something," said the doctor sadly. Aki took note of the fact, without surprise, that someone actually did care about the people on those beds. Aki thought for a moment before speaking.
"Perhaps there is a way," she said. The doctor merely looked at her in puzzlement. Aki made her decision in mere seconds. This doctor would be a useful ally for the Consciousness if she was merged.
"Come with us to the morgue. I will show you," said Aki in a voice that left no room for argument.

"Dr. Scott at Gaia's High Garden has requested these samples Lindly and I need you to take them to him," Deirdre said, handing the heavy metal lined case to the young Talent standing in front of her. Lindly was a member of the generation born immediately following Planetfall. Dressed in a clean white and green robe, Lindly was about 15 Planetyears old and showed it with the radiant face of youth crowned by beautiful mousse brown hair that was held back in a clip. Lindly was reportedly one of the best and brightest of the current Talents, and had been personally recommended to Deirdre for the assignment. The synthmetal lined case contained live mindworm specimens captured by one of her scout patrols. Dr. Scott had been conducting extensive research into the native life phenomena and had requested the samples in order to continue his research.
"Lindly I don't have to tell you how important this is. Dr. Scott thinks that he may be on the verge of a breakthrough in understanding Planet's ecosystem and these specimens will put him one step closer." The young Talent nodded clasping the case in both hands as if afraid to drop it or let it out of her site. A good sign, thought Deirdre. She moved around from behind the table to put herself in front of Lindly. She took the girl by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. The girl looked back at Deirdre and Deirdre felt oddly as if the girl was peering inside her mind. She shook the thought from her mind as she let go and watched Lindly turn and walk out of her office. So little did the promising young Talent know about how important those worm specimens were. Dr. Scott claimed that mindworms and spore launchers were attacking humans not out of malice, but out of a primal defense mechanism. According to him, human settlement was damaging Planet's ecosystem and the fauna were reacting like a person's antibodies would to a viral invasion. It was like humanity was one large cold and the mindworms and spore launchers were Planet's white blood cells. Dr. Scott had also informed her that he thought he had a way to breed mindworms in captivity, but he needed those specimens to make sure. He had informed her that certain segments of her people had shown an aptitude for bonding their neural activity with the worm's empathic abilities and had been able to control the movement and actions of the worms. If these experiments proved successful, than mindworms could be bred in future Biology Labs and used as weapons against other humans he had said. This was something that Deirdre had balked at first thought. Could she use Planet's native life as weapons against other humans? Everyone knew how a victim of a mindworm attack died, screaming, tearing their eyes out, trying to flush the visions of nightmares out of their heads. It was something that she wasn't sure she could do, but she needed to ask a second opinion.

"It's the perfect weapon, Lady," said Vasily. He was wearing the plain green uniform of the Gaian Defense Forces with the stylized image of a mindworm's beak that designated Gaian Army uniforms. He flexed his jaw tensely waiting for Deirdre's reply. She noticed that he seemed tenser than usual for reasons that she couldn't place her finger on, but it definitely showed.
"Is it right to use these creatures as a weapon? You've seen the results of mindworm attacks Vasily, could you order an attack that would end with such results?" Her question bit deep, but the only reaction she could see from her Security advisor was a brief flicker of something, in his eyes. He turned to her and ran a hand over his short brown hair.
"Lady. For years you have urged that we live in harmony with Planet, find our proper place in it's ecology and environment. Because of this my troops are still armed with shredder pistols and machine rifles from the Unity, while Zakharov and Lal's troops have laser weapons. My men and I have not complained because we are loyal to you and the Gaian cause, however this is the chance that we have been waiting for. If Dr. Scott says is right, than Planet uses these mindworms as it's defense. Why should we not defend ourselves the way Planet does? That would truly be living in harmony with this world, Lady." Deirdre was forced to acknowledge the truth in this statement. Her Defense Forces did remain woefully under-equipped when compared with Zakharov or Lal's soldiers and the mindworms did present a way to level the playing field so to speak. However the thought of sending mindworms out to kill her fellow man didn't appeal to her. Vasily must have sensed this, because his reply corresponded with exactly what she had been thinking.
"Lady, consider this. Mindworms will always continue to breed. There will always be mindworms, but my men are irreplaceable and I personally would rather sacrifice ten mindworm boils than one of my soldiers," he said. Deirdre nodded. Everything Vasily had said was true. The mindworms would be an excellent defense, but would also prove to be a valuable insight into Planet's ecology and the lives of her citizens were irreplaceable while mindworms were for the moment a permanent fixture on Planet. She bit her lip, an unconscious habit she had developed on Earth when she was making a difficult decision and had yet to break. She had already come to a decision however, she was just battling herself over whether she wanted to admit it or not.
"Very well. I'll tell Dr. Scott that he may proceed with his research." Vasily nodded once, agreeing with her. Even though she had made the decision she knew that it would not be an easy one to live with.

Talents in white robes surged around Lal and his guard as he watched the construction of the so-called "Empath Guild." Research into the human mind and genetic code had shown that although most humans only used about 10% of their brains, there were a select few individuals who could utilize more than the normal 10%. These individuals could use between 15-20% of their brains when compared to a regular individual. The result of this increased brain capacity was an ability to sense, read, and manipulate the thoughts of others. Those people, known as 'empaths' were born with the abilities from birth, although some of Lal's researchers insisted that normal individuals could be taught to use more of their brain as well.
The "Empath Guild" was an ambitious project that Lal had launched that was designed to fully discover and tap the abilities of empaths. The basic idea was that if highly skilled empaths could be gathered together, their abilities would be further learned and they would also grow and learn from each other. Ari Rubenstein, his head of Research had practically fallen over himself when given the task of leading the project and was proving to be just the right man for the job, and was still as enthusiastic as he had been when first given the task. A group of empaths huddled together near a synthmetal table and as Lal passed them he noticed that not a word was being spoken among them, but he had the distinct feeling that a conversation was taking place by watching their faces. Interesting, he thought.
"Brother Lal this way," a familiar voice shouted. Lal craned his neck to see over the small crowd and spotted the bespectacled, slat and pepper bearded face of Ari Rubenstein waving to him. He moved through the crowd until he stood next to his chief scientist who was wearing a white lab coat over the remains of his Unity jumpsuit. Always the eccentric type, that didn't surprise Lal much. Rubenstein grabbed his arm and led him to a computer console near the back of the room. The console was a bare metal hulk that had been most likely salvaged from the Unity and converted to use here. Rubenstein typed a series of commands on the primitive type-pad that the computer used and a moment later the image of a rotating human brain appeared on the screen.
"You are still interested in trying to figure this all out, I take it?" asked Rubenstein with a grin. Having been a surgeon for nearly all of his adult life, Lal did have a basic understanding of the human brain and how it worked, however the research into empathy confused him greatly and he had asked Rubenstein to show him the basics of what he was doing. Lal nodded with a grin of his own.
"You know, I do know a little bit about the brain, Ari," he said. His chief scientist laughed a large booming laugh and turned back to the display.
"As you know Brother, the human brain is made up of essentially three main parts, with subsections. The cerebrums, the cerebellum, and the brain stem. The cerebrum, the two main lobes of the brain control most of the body's activity including senses like sight, sound, and smell and the cerebral cortex also controls things such as speech, memory, basic and skilled movements and emotions, which is our focus." The rotating image of the brain stopped and the screen zoomed in on front of the cerebrums highlighting the upper part.
"The upper parts of the cerebrum control emotion, behavior, memory, and awareness. We have undertaken extensive studies into these areas of the brain and have come up with some surprising results. Our researchers have been able to pinpoint the exact location of the brain's 'emotion center' you might say. The center of emotion in the brain also lies very close to the center of the brain for awareness or perception along with behavior and memory. Zakharov would probably know much more about this with the results of his project on the human consciousness, but we've made some strides in this area," said Rubenstein. Lal nodded staring at the image of the brain. Such a vital organ, key to human existence, yet so underused unlike the lungs or the heart, other important life giving organs. If Rubenstein and his team were right though, the brain could be taught to expand its horizons beyond the mere 10% used. He leaned forward to get a better look at the image, while Rubenstein continued.
"In empaths, the parts of the cerebrum controlling perception and emotion work very closely together. These two parts of the cerebrum along with the hypothalamus appear to be extra-stimulated; meaning that in empaths they have more 'folds' in those regions and the hypothalamus is slightly larger than in a normal human brain. And as far as we can tell this gives the empaths their ability to sense and manipulate other people's thoughts, though we aren't quite sure how yet, but I believe we're close." Lal nodded slowly taking in everything that he had been supposed to learn. The explanation was somewhat confusing and he still didn't know exactly all the details, but than again Ari didn't either according to his mini-lecture.
"So we don't know exactly what causes them to be empathic, merely that they have a slightly different brain structure?" asked Lal. Rubenstein nodded somewhat shamefully, likely wishing he had an answer for that question.
"Unfortunately that's we all we know at the moment, but we're on the verge of learning more. It's only a matter of time Pravin." Lal nodded and reached out his hand clasping Rubenstein on the arm. With that he turned and began to make his way out of the dome that housed the project and back to his offices.

**Bearcat** · September 17, 2002, 01:12

The smokestacks of Free Drone Central loomed over the banks of a slow north-flowing river that eventually drained into the ocean that rolled surf onto the red sand beaches that were only walking distance away. The capital of the Free Drones that had won their freedom from the Hive during the infamous revolt of 2112, was set in an idyllic place and would have been a beautiful place to live were it not the home of multiple heavy industries that spewed smoke into the sky from a multitude of towers, that made the sky look even more hazy. Free Drone citizens walked along the streets of their capital in loose overalls, jumpsuits, or even a robe. Although free from the Human Hive and it's oppression, the Drones were still an industrious people and prided themselves on the efficiency and strength of their industry, many claiming it was better than the Hive, now that they had a say in their labor.
Foreman Domai set down the touchpad he had been glancing over. Another report from one of his scouting parties. To the east of Free Drone Central was a rather large patch of xenofungus and they had been the victims of numerous mindworm attacks since landing here and establishing their base 3 years ago. His head of the Science Department, Dr. Irwin had given him very little idea of why the mindworms were targeting his base and this was little consolation to him. 45 people had died from the attacks and once the base had come very close to being overrun by the mottled fungus-crawlers. He had sent scouts out to explore the area and report any mindworm activity in advance. He had also dispatched scouts south to locate any areas that would be good sites for a second base. When he had left The Hive 3 years ago, approximately 900 drones had followed him.
He remembered that fight well. His spontaneous disobedience to an overseer had sparked the entire drone population of The Hive to take up arms against Chairman Yang and his soldiers. The fighting had been intense and bloody. Yang's blue-armored troops, their faces conveniently hidden by tinted faceplates had gunned down his fellow drones as they sought their freedom. However the rebels had spilt their share of Hive blood, Domai remembered the sights of those dead Hive soldiers littering the corridors and tunnels. The fighting had raged from one tunnel to another, from level to level as his rebels drove forwards towards the surface, where some instinct had told them they would find freedom. They had found the transport vessel in the dock, moored to the side of the pier and they had known in that instant that they must flee across the sea.
Now his faction had grown from 900 drones to 1,600 drones and was still growing. The blood of those who had died in arms with them, fighting for freedom and the blood of the Hive soldiers who had died attempting to keep them in chains was something that no Free Drone took for granted. A large marble wall dominated the center of the base, etched with a star for every drone who had died in the revolt and was imprinted by a quote dedicated to the working classes of Planet,

"Now it's day and night the irons clang, and like poor galley slaves
We toil and toil, and when we die, must fill dishonored graves
But some dark night, when everything is silent in the town
I'll shoot those tyrants one and all, I'll gun the flogger down
I'll give the land a little shock, remember what I say,
And they'll yet regret they've sent Jim Jones in chains to Botany Bay"

An old Australian folk song from Earth that had somehow remained implanted in his memory, it seemed an appropriate dedication to his vision for Planet's future. His people may be free, but he knew that all across Planet drones still labored in horrible conditions that no Talent or Normal would stand, but they turned their heads because those toiling for their benefit were only drones. But Domai was determined to see that one day; drones would be able to have a fair say in their labor all across Planet. The towers of Free Drone Central, the headquarters of his worker's paradise were only the beginning. One day he would force the other factions to see that they couldn't continue to exploit their workers without consequences.
He looked up as the door chimed announcing company. He turned to see Maxwell, his loyal aide standing in the doorway. He motioned for the young man to enter and take a seat in a battered metal chair salvaged from the transport vessel that had carried them here to their new home. Maxwell, a tall dark headed boy of 15 Planetyears he, along with his entire generation had never known Earth. A distant legend to those born in the early years following Planetfall, Earth was nothing more than a word and a distant legend to them, something that their parents told them about before putting them to sleep at night. Maxwell extended his arm and handed Domai a folder that he had been holding. The folder was a report from the Industry Department, but Domai knew that wasn't what was on his aide's mind.
"What is it Maxwell? You look troubled and we've known each other too long," said Domai. His aide shifted in his seat and looked out the window for a moment, before making eye contact with Domai.
"Foreman, our scouts have been reporting increasing sorties into our territory by scouts from the settlements to our south. Perhaps it would be an ideal time to reveal ourselves to them in order to cement a position of power on this continent," said Maxwell. Indeed, scouting parties from the south had become increasingly prevalent and were coming ever closer to Free Drone Central. His scouts took care to avoid the intruders, however Domai was resigned to the fact that one day the foreigners would stumble upon his emerging society, and it would beneficial to have the upper hand in such a case. He leaned forward in his chair and looked down at his hands on the desk.
"I think you are right Maxwell. Sooner or later they will find us, and it would be of greater benefit if we revealed ourselves to them of our own accord, rather than allowing them to find us first." Maxwell gave a bob of his head, but still looked concerned, warring with himself over whether or not to say something else. Domai motioned for him to speak.
"Foreman, I'm concerned that we may not be able to match the strength of the other factions. After all, we only won our freedom three years ago and the other settlements have been expanding and growing for fifteen years. As of last report we only have 150 men in our security forces, with another 120 trained citizens that could if necessary take part in base defense. What if the other factions are hostile? After all we do represent the dreams and wishes of those that the other factions oppress," said Maxwell. Domai smiled almost on reflex. He had long considered the possibility of hostile neighbors and rejection of the Free Drone philosophy. He was impressed, however, that someone other than him had been considering these factors. He stood up and motioned for Maxwell to follow him as he returned to the window that he had been standing in front of when Maxwell had arrived.
"Maxwell, sooner or later the other factions would have found us, and it would not have been to our advantage. We drones are not weak by nature, and all of our citizens will fight for freedom if it comes to that, but it will not. The other factions are not the Hive and we will strive for good relations with them, as I'm sure that they will attempt the same with us. The future is bright for us, don't be such a pessimist," said Domai with a smile on his face.

Gunnery Sergeant Martin Campos grunted in frustration as the rover wheels churned in the xenofungus. His driver slammed the gear-shifter into reverse and hit the gas, but the wheels simply screamed with wasted revolutions, and the rover went nowhere. Xenofungus was the bane of humanity's existence on Planet and this was never truer than for a rover crew. The crimson tendrils got caught almost everywhere, causing the rover to bog down for several hours while the crew jumped out and hacked the tendrils free so the rover could proceed another five or six kilometers before getting stuck again. Campos hated the fungus and was always happy to avoid it, not this time though. He had strict orders from Sparta Command to explore the northern coasts of the continent, to see if there were any valuable resources in that area. Eight days later they were still bogging down in xenofungus and his navigator estimated that they still had another two days to go before fully reaching the coast. He motioned to his driver to stop and he hit the hatch release button. A hiss of compressed air announced that the airtight seal around the hatch had been broken and all four crewmen donned their rebreather masks.
"I'm going to have a look around out there, you men stay put," said Campos leaning out of the open hatch and jumping down from the rover. Even before his feet had hit the ground he had his shredder pistol out and was scanning the horizon. The xenofungus field seemed to extend forever to the naked eye, although the rover's sensors had said there was only 11 more kilometers of the stuff. Campos repressed a shudder and looked around. Nothing. There was nothing in the fungal field besides his rover. Better than mindworms or spore launchers popping out to give you a nasty surprise, he reminded himself. He holstered his shredder pistol and turned back to the rover. His driver, a young lance corporal named Lindgren was staring out at him. He shook his head once and spread his arms in a half-shrug.
"Nothing, Gunny?" asked Lindgren. Campos nodded and walked back to the rover leaning against the side of the vehicle for a moment. Eight days out here in the wilderness and all they had found were some rocks and xenofungus, and nothing of value. He was beginning to think that Central Command had sent them on a wild goose chase, to quote an old Earth adage, but he wasn't one to question Central Command.
"Nothing out here except maybe some hiding mindworms, Lance Corporal," he said. Lindgren nodded and was about to duck back into the rover when he stiffened and stared out past Campos, who turned to see what his driver was looking at. On the horizon was a group of figures that he could just barely make out.
"Binoculars, Lance Corporal. Now!" Lindgren quickly disappeared inside the rover before reappearing quickly with a pair of binoculars which he handed down to Campos. Raising the binoculars to his eyes he could make out about five or six men in silver and maroon colored armor, heading his way. Zooming in on them he could make out an insignia on their chest, some sort of circle with two interconnected 0 figures in the center. Campos dropped the binoculars and turned back the rover.
"Multiple unidentified infantry personnel advancing south, I repeat south, towards our position. Get this claptrap moving now!" He jumped up on the sideboard and hopped back into the rover to see his crew scrambling to accomplish his order. Lindgren thumbed the starter button and threw the rover into drive. Slamming the gas pedal, the rover roared with energy the engine screaming at full power as the speedometer climbed upwards. Finally at about 200 kph the rover gave a jerk and launched forward.
"Finally got it to work, sir," said Lindgren with jubilation on his face. Campos was about to reply when the rover jerked to a stop, stuck in the fungus again. Lindgren screamed an expletive at the rover and punched his fist into the steering wheel with fury. Swiveling in his command seat, Campos turned to his navigator a senior Sergeant named Rhiger. Rhiger looked down at his navscreen quickly and grunted in frustration.
"We're stuck real good this time, sir. The fungus has wrapped itself around all four wheels and is stuck in the undercarriage," said Rhiger. Campos nodded, bottling his anger at the situation. He couldn't let his emotions get the best of him right now, especially in a command position. Such was not the way of Spartan NCOs. He made a split second decision, grabbing a machine rifle and popping the hatch he stuck his head out of the rover and made an instant assessment. The unidentified, possibly enemy infantry were closer now and he could make out their numbers now without the aid of the binoculars. He was about to call for a flame gun to go after the fungus with when his quicklink crackled to life.
"Unidentified rover, this is Echo Scout 1 of the Free Drone faction. Request identification and stand down of weapons. Repeat this is Echo Scout 1, stand down weapons and identify yourself." Campos stared down at his quicklink for a moment, not quite believing what he had heard. He snapped out of it quickly though, remembering he had a duty to perform.
"Get Sparta Command. Tell them we have a situation developing."

Colonel Santiago stepped away from the telescreen on the wall and turned back towards her council. The six men sitting around the table regarded her with stony looks on their faces. Santiago had just finished a long discussion with the so-called "Foreman" Domai of the Free Drones. Domai had over the length of an hour and a half informed her of his rebellion and escape from the Human Hive of Sheng-ji Yang, his journey across the sea, and the settlement of him and his people on the northern shores of her continent. And for an hour and a half, Santiago had patiently endured this, interjecting every so often to ask questions about the formation of the "Free Drones." She had managed to glean several important facts about his faction from her questions; Domai didn't seem concerned about giving her such information, which Santiago found rather foolish of him. The drone faction had one base, their headquarters with a population of 1,600 citizens, and a small security force of about 150 men. Spartan forces could easily remove such a weak faction if it posed a threat, however at the moment, these Free Drones didn't seem interested in aggressive expansion.
"The Drones are weak and highly susceptible to attack. They will only continue to grow. Thoughts?" asked Santiago. Her council members who sat in silence throughout the discussion now seemed to reanimate. General Raab sat forward with a thoughtful look on his face. Santiago nodded acknowledgment at him, letting him speak.
"I think that the Drones pose no threat to us. They're a new faction that is just beginning to establish itself. They have a small population and negligible defenses if we are ever pressed into action against them, and Domai was exceedingly helpful. He did give us his world maps and Yang's comm frequency. It might serve our interests also to use these Drones as a bridge or a shield even against the Hive," said Raab. Santiago leaned forward on the table, staring at Raab. He simply leaned back in his chair and returned her gaze. She looked around the table to see if anyone else had anything to say. Her war advisor, a man named Krieger caught her eye and she nodded at him. Krieger, a tall and large muscled man with a shaved head sat forward glaring at Raab. His short, tight fitting shirt revealed a set of massive, tanned arms that he flexed, a visual sign of agitation for Krieger.
"Raab's wrong, Colonel. I think that we need to hit the Drones now, and hard. Even if we don't annex them or drive them into the sea, it's important they know who the dominant faction on this continent is, and that means striking them now. It will also keep our drones in line," sad Krieger. This drew nods of assent from some of the other council members around the table, but Raab shook his head furiously.
"No! Our drones are too well disciplined and loyal to contemplate joining these Free Drones and I don't believe it is imperative that we strike them now. We should take the time to learn more about them and possibly even make an ally out of them, not an enemy as Krieger suggests," said Raab. Krieger leaned forward in his chair, glowering across the table at Raab, half rising from his seat as he delivered his reply.
"Why should we befriend the Drones? They're nothing but rebellious malcontents who managed to whip the Hive Army and I don't think they'd be any match for our legions," sneered Krieger. Raab rose out of his chair as well, leaning forward to face Krieger.
"I don't know about the Hive Army, and I doubt you do either Krieger, but I'm most worried about Miriam and her Believers and the Drones might be a useful ally in case of conflict with our neighbors to the east," said Raab.
"We have a Treaty of Friendship with Miriam's people. Why should we worry about them? The Drones are a threat to the established order of Planet and I say that they must be dealt with now," said Krieger with steely resolve in his voice.
"We have a treaty with the Believers for now, but how long do you think that will last? Do you want to meet a Believer on the field of battle? I know I would rather avoid it myself," said Raab. Krieger looked as if he was about to throw a punch, and Raab braced himself as if sensing the mood from the other man. Santiago decided to intervene at that moment to keep a fight from breaking out in her council room. Let them take it to the training gyms, she thought as she slammed on the table with her fist. This caused everyone in the room, including the two men standing to fix their attention on her. She looked at them all in the eye quietly for a moment before continuing.
"Enough. The Drones are no threat to us at the moment. They are fifteen years behind us, the Hive, the Believers, and any other factions that survived Planetfall. We Spartans are strong and we will only continue to grow stronger, while the Drones struggle to catch up. We will send a team to Free Drone Central to learn more about them, however we shall continue to keep an eye on their expansion and military as well. We will be cautious, but we will extend the olive branch as well, knowing that we greatly outweigh the Drones militarily." With that Santiago once again made eye contact with all of her advisors, letting them know that she would allow for no argument of her decision. Krieger and Raab had both taken their seats again, but did not look happy at the decision that had been made. Santiago knew that this was to be expected and thus without another word, she simply walked around the table and exited the room, leaving her advisors staring at each other in awkward silence.

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