Beyond Alpha Centauri :::

[GeneralTacticus]

Laekdaemon Central

When Intel Director Katrina received Menelaus's message, she had all the authorisation she needed to eliminate Lysander. She was acting under orders. More than that, though, she held a personal hatred for the little bastard. She fought and sweated and bled for the Cadre ever since she had joined it more than a century ago. Lysander, on the other hand, had hardly seen any serious action, and yet he had made Major and held her in contempt for being an 'outsider'. He preached war with Sparta, but had no idea of what that would mean. Katrina would relish the task of killing such a deluded fool.

"Intel Director Katrina to all agents." she sent into her commlink via a neural uplink, "We have full authorisation to destroy Lysander. Repeat, we are authorised to destroy Lysander."


All across Laekdaemon III, members of the Cadre Security Forces received their message and confirmed it. One, however, at Dienkes Base, Agent Arete, cursed inwardly as she listened and sent her own message to the upper levels of Lysander's forces.

She was probably the only member of the Cadre Security on Lysander's side, and no-one else knew, except her comrades with Lysander. Menelaus and his lackeys no doubt thought their instrument of tyrrany was loyal, and it mostly was, but she wasn't. She was Lysander's only source in those forces and that made her important beyond imagining.

"Followers of Major Lysander." her message read. "Menelaus has ordered the arrest and execution of our leader. Warn him at all costs."

Captain Marcos also cursed as he received that message. Lysander was coming back, thinking he was safe, while at the same time Menelaus was going after him! This could not be allowed to happen. He would have to warn him. At the time he received it he was on his way to the barracks square for morning training, but he could take the punishment for being late if he had to. He ran back to his own quarters and began keying in a new message for Lysander.

"Major Lysander, I have just received news of vital importance. Menelaus has ordered Cadre Security to arrest and execute you the moment you set foot on Cadre territory. Please bear this in mind."

Laekdaemon III, Low Orbit

As Lysander's ships began to make their final descent towards the planet, having passed through the simple Cadre satelite-mounted scanning systems, they received Marcos' message. When Lysander read it he gaped in shock. If that message, no doubt triggered by information from Arete, he would have walked straight into a trap and that would have been the end.

His reply was brief. "Message received Marcos, I thank you."

He then opened yet another commlink - audio only to prevent any listeners from knowing who he spoke to - then said, "Commander, we must change plans. We are in danger. Follow me."

Without waiting for an acknowledgement the Hive pilot pulled Lysander's ship around and began heading for the Leonidas Jungle. Lysander looked at his scanners and saw the other ships following him.

The ships dropped rapidly through the atmosphere, and as they neared landing Lysander's confidence began to return, but it was rudely shaken when he received a message from Laekdaemon Central.

"Shuttle 0069, you are heading for an unathourised landing area and are suspect. Change course immediately and land at Laekdaemon Central Aerospace Complex."

"Oh, ****." Lysander swore. He'd never expected them to track his shuttle. He had no choice. He would have to get his three ships landed and his men out, then gather his followers and overthrow Menelaus. It was obvious now that Menelaus did not intend to carry through on his promise of democracy. While no-one had yet even mentioned it, this was just another reason why Menelaus could not be trusted. Sooner or later, he would sell them all out to Sparta.

Commander Felchek replied on the still-open commlink. "Lord Lysander, what do we do? We do not have the weapons to put up even a token resistance against an air attack."

"Commander, we must go down and hope we escape before they hit us. We have no choice."

At that point another voice cut across the commlink. "Shuttle 0069, this Lieutenant Castro of the Laekdaemon Cadre air force. By not complying with our directives, you have implicated yourself of treason. You will fly to Laekdaemon Central now, or we will shoot you down."

Cutting the link to Castro, Lysander barked orders to the pilots of the three ships. "Go down, full speed! don't worry about the ships, but save at all costs the lives and supplies we have. We must escape!"

All of Lysander's ships speeded up greatly and hurtled toward the jungle below, while the damnable Lieutenant Castro sent a final message.

"Shuttle 0069, by disreagarding two warnings you have convicted yourself of treason. You will now be destroyed. Ships accompanying Shuttle 0069, you are being given a last chance. If you break away, you will survive. If you stay with it, you will go down as well."

Alarms on Lysander's shuttle began blaring, indicating that the Cadre needlejets had locked on to it and were preparing to fire. Similar alarms were soming over the commlink from the other ships... but the ground Lysander intended to land on was coming up fast. This would be race between the needlejet's weapons and Lysander's ships.

Lietenant Castro watched without emotion as his craft's wepons panel indicated 'READY'. "All craft, fire at will." he said over his own commlink. Instantly a stream of air to air missiles flew from the wings of the needlejets toward the fleeing spacecraft. As insurance, he also began firing gatling lasers. One of the enemy took a glancing hit and staggered in mid-air, it's enormous speed hurling it a staggering distance, but it was still intact. He kept firing and was rewarded as another craft took a hit and one of it's engines cut out. At that moment all three fugitive craft crashed into the ground and began plowing through the jungle. The misiles were close behind.

All of the jets screamed across to the landing site and arrived just in time to see missiles impacting all along the shuttles. None of them survived, and all exploded almost instantly.

"Squadron, return to base. No doubt they will send a team over to see who the hell this was."

He turned back for Dienkes Base Aerocomplex, and his squadron formed up behind him.

****

Lysander and the rest of the Hive forces with him threw themselves into the jungle at the last minute. Less than a second after the last Hive soldiers were fleeing their ships, the cloud of missiles fired at them earlier had impacted against the ships. Lysander sucked in deep breaths and leaned against a tree trunk. While the whole incident had felt like a lifetime, it had probably not been more than a minute from the first warning to the crash landing.

"How many are still alive?" he asked Felchek, who looked quite rattled.

"Not sure, sir." he replied, before turning around and barking, "All right, everybody! Head count! If there are any wounded, let me know!"

"It would probably be easier just to ask if there's anyone not wounded." Lysander muttered.

When the count was complete, Felchek turned back to Lysander. "198 troops in total, lord." he said. "Appparently most of the dead were soldiers, 39 of them to be exact. The other deaths were 4 officers, 7 saboteurs and 2 assassins."

Lysander nodded. "Very well, now we must move. Our first destination is Dienkes Base. I have a contact in the security there, and many other followers too. We shall begin our revolution there - it should not be hard to take control of it."

"Very well, lord. If you order it, we will move."

Six Days Later

Lysander and his bloodied Hive allies were encamped near Dienkes Base as dawn broke. Most of them had had a brief sleep in the hour since they had arrived, and now they were ready to move. Lysander opened him commlink and began speaking.

"To all loyal followers the Cadre, this is Major Lysander speaking." his voice boomed, concentrated as it was into the commlink. His message would now be flooding all the networks of Dienkes Base, as he had issued a code word a little while ago, ordering his followers there to hijack the network.

"I have returned, and I have brought allies with me. This is a great day, for it shall be ever after recorded as the beginning of the liberation of Laekdaemon from the tyrrany and treachery of Menelaus. I call upon all members of the Cadre to unite under me and overthrow the Spartan puppet Menelaus! We will win!"

Inside the base, that speech had been the signal for Lysander's men to begin the coup. They were all armed and ready nto go, and as Lysander finished speaking, they moved.

Within moments the base had turned into a battleground. Impact bolts cracked everywhere, people were dying, and the rebels were rapidly gaining ground. In under an hour, without so much as a whisper to the outside world, Dienkes Base had fallen.

Arete smiled broadly as she stood over the bloodied body of Menelaus's governor Polynikes.

Cheers and jubilant whoops echoed through the base as the last resistors surrendered. 48 minutes before, this had been under the control of Menelaus. Now, in a brief spasm of violence, is had been liberated.

"This base now belongs to us." she announced over the network.

This was the 'all clear' signal for Lysander who now entered the base. When he did so, his followers lined the streets and cheered, while the Hive men behind him fanned out and began searching for any further resistance.

Now Lysander entered the admin complex at the heart of the base and sat down to plan his next move. Felchek and Arete entered followed him into the governor's office and sat down across the table.

"Very well. We have this base. That is a momentuous acheivement, but it is not enough. We must liberate all of our people from Menelaus and his oppression. I will now broadcast another speech over the entire planetary networks. If all goes well, by the end of the day the whole of Laekdaemon will be ours."

[Cybergod]

Cross-ships link up, Mammon and Quantum Shadow

Captain Tyre, Data Keeper Brai and a couple of covert personnel waited by the ship’s bay doors, as the Quantum Shadow underwent the last docking procedures.

“Docking complete,” the computer voice boomed as the doors sucked themselves in, the air hissing as the pressure in the inter-docking bridge equalised. Captain Tyre and his security men walked up and entered the bridge. The air felt extremely cold in deep space, especially in between ships. He turned to Brai and the rest of his company, gesturing they should follow. As he stepped on the bridge’s platform, Brai shivered. Two men, carrying a large crate walked behind him.

They neared the closed bay doors of the Morganite ship. They stopped in front of the doors. Tyre grew impatient as he waited for the cumbersome doors of the Morganite ship to open. As they did, hot, luxurious air rushed in. Bright light from inside greeted them along with a couple of security officers. A tall security officer approached Tyre:

“Are you of the Saturn Kingdom?”

‘No we just guessed which flippin’ frequency we should broadcast from, dimwit!’ Tyre thought to himself as he answered: “Aye, I am Captain Kalire Tyre, covert operative of the Saturn Kingdom, in Our Majesty’s intelligence service.”

“Then you must come with me, to meet Captain Michael Judson,” the Morganite looked at the strange weapons the Saturnian officers had and then glanced at the large crate that was carried. He looked trivially at the captain.

“This is all according to plan. We are under instructions to cause no harm to you, your crew or Morgan Interstellar.”

Finally the large man bulged and turned, and the Saturnians entered Mammon. Brai enjoyed the comforting warmth of the ship’s interior as they walked down a long hallway, to eventually enter a big room, where Captain Judson and his two advisors sat. The man stood up and took his blue cap off to salute Tyre.

“Welcome to our vessel! I am Captain Michael Judson, this is Science Officer Deitzler, who will be taking care of the data, and Dr. Ishimora Heidyako, who would watch over the transfers.”

“I am Captain Tyre of the Saturn Kingdom. This is Data Keeper Brai, he is in charge of data security on our side,” Brai shook each of the other men’s hands. Judson looked around and told his ‘clients’ to have a seat at the negotiating table – a round marble desk on his left. As they all sat down, he inquired about the obscure crate.

“All will be revealed,” Tyre said. “Now, shall we discuss business my good friend?”

“Of course of course! The CEO is most interested in your latest research in the field of ‘psionics’,” he looked nervously at the two men around the box. “I’m guessing that is what you’re carrying – a few working prototypes.”

“Prototypes?!?” Tyre chuckled, “Please allow me to demonstrate,” he got up, walked over to the crate and pressed his right thumb on a little light circle on the box and its top slid off to reveal strange glove-looking instruments. He pulled out one glove, pressed a few buttons on the side and pointed it at Judson. The Morganite guards raised their blasters at the man immediately.

“Please, don’t take offence, this isn’t lethal,” Tyre said. ‘But it can be, under right settings’ he thought as he searched through the other man’s mind. “Your full name is Michael Lois Judson. You were a single child of a wealthy Morganite family. Both of your parents died in a traffic accident and you were grieving all your life since that, working hard to make them proud. You studied law but changed your interests when you realised Morganite diplomacy could be ‘multi-dimensional’ as you yourself put it, when you talked with your life-long friend Reiss. Your wife Sandra and little Dana are the things you hold most sacred in your life,” he paused a second. “Now I feel that you are overwhelmed so I’ll stop there, for the sake of your health, since I fear for your weak heart,” he said as her put his hand down.

Captain Judson blinked at an incredible rate in his moments of astonishment. The other two men starred first at their captain and then at Tyre with a puzzled expression. He gulped and asked: “How… how did you…”

“It is the high pinnacle of Saturnian technology, but the user must be well trained, otherwise fatigue might develop,” Brai answered the unfinished question as all eyes were pried on Tyre as he took off the apparatus. His captain looked exhausted as he wasn’t particularly trained to use the psych whip – this advanced version required the little known psychoactive energy, found around sentient consciousness, as it used it and its own power to manipulate. “This is a new improved version of the original psych whip, which was only capable of inflicting pain by weakly affecting the victim’s nervous system. This jewel however, as you’ve seen, does much more. Now, all we wish is the confirmation that you will give us the data in the fields of Nanotechnology and Advanced Robotics. With this knowledge, both of our factions can develop more advanced… gems… such as this.”

“Why, certainly!” Judson said. “Officer Deitzler, please secure connections with Mr. Brai, we must exchange data at once!”

[History Guy]

Morgan's Hideaway, Building 5

Montrose Despard Turnwadson had finally stopped panting after his rush up several dozen flights of stairs when, after a fifteen-minute wait on Level 102, the lift doors suddenly popped open on the landing beside the millionaire. Out jaunted old Ferdinand Delbar, in his nice blue jacket, late as usual.

“Now, Ferdy,” said Monty, rushing up alongside the Tracking Officer, “What in heaven’s name is going on here, eh? I’ve got news that Samnos is under attack from the air, that Naxos is beating back continuos enemy assaults, and that a whole different system in the Corporate Sector is gone! Now, to add to this, you run around the place like a bleeding idiot with a guy who’s trailing you with a gun…and what took you so long getting up here?”

“ I had to change into better clothes, Monty," he replied. "I doubt you’ll get into Mike Gladden’s apartment in that…A chap wanted me to deliver a message to Gladden at the double quick…‘for the good of my government’…” Delbar eyed Monty critically, “And how did you know where to find me?”

“I watched you type ‘102 Level’ on the lift programmer when you when into the lift.”

“And, if you’d be so kind, would you tell me who on earth was ‘trailing’ me with ‘a gun’?”

“Well...I've got the gun right here…the guy was just following you around, aiming it at you discreetly and the like. I sort of gave him a little slap on the cheek and he just collapsed!” Delbar suddenly turned round in his tracks and headed back toward the lift, “Now where are you slogging off to?”

“I’m just heading back down to my room, where I think I will stay throughout the rest of my time here at Morgan’s Hideaway,” replied Delbar, timidly.

“Oh come on, Ferdy, where’s your sense of duty? And hey, where is your sense of adventure?”

“It’s gone. I lost it. I guess it’s out adventuring,” responded Delbar, nearing closer to the lift. A quick grab at Delbar’s collar dragged him forward, and Monty turned him around.

“Now, let’s get this thing over with, OK? The only way to get this clear of you is to get is done, right?”

“Well…sort of…”

“Sort of? Sort of? What room is Gladden in anyway?”

“Ummm…err…Room 666, or 669, or something. You’ll know it by all the heavily armed plainclothesmen hanging suspiciously around it…” This had barely escaped the Tracking Officer’s lips when the two men came face to face with a long, lighted corridor that ended in a balcony overlooking the mountain range. The door at the end of the hall was made out of whole bronze, and the gold nameplate read ‘Apartment 669’. In front of the door stood two burly little fellows with greasy faces, and ugly expressions. These guys must have been the heavily armed plainclothesmen haning suspiciously around the spot. This was obviously Mike Gladden’s room.

“Errrr…I’d say we’re here, Ferdy.”

“Oh damn,” Delbar responded, coming very close to turning around again.

“No, come along.” Monty walked up to one of the stationary guards and asked sheepishly, “Can we see Mike Gladden?”

“When he’s down at the casino you can see him. You can’t talk to him down there unless he comes to you, however,” responded the square-faced man in a thick, gruff voice, which was tinged with incredibly bad breath. Montrose was suddenly made miserable.

“I mean, sir, can I see him now? My friend has a message for him…”

“Forget about it, kid…” responded the man, who appeared to be two years or so older than Monty at the most.

“But you see,” broke in Delbar, “I’ve a message from Snakeyes.”

“Snakeyes? I guess that’s different. Come up here, though, I’ve got to give you a rub-down, concealed weapons, you know.” The man then seized Delbar and then Monty, and pat them in various places, just to make sure that they weren’t hiding a shredder pistol or an impactor revolver, or something to that effect. “Don’t want to have Mike Gladden go down with a plasma shard in his head on my shift or nothin’.” Delbar and Monty eyed each other curiously. “OK, you two are clean, I guess I can show ya in.”

The man took out a small security card and ran it past the bronze door, and without a sound, the door opened. “Boss,” said the man, peaking his fat head into the dark room, “I’ve got some visitors for you. They have a message from Snakeyes.”

A voice from the room responded, “OK, Grimsby, show them in.” The man pushed the two men into the darkened room. As Delbar’s eyes became accustomed to the dimness, he looked about him. At the far end of the room, alongside the oak-paneling, Mike Gladden, a tall, powerful looking clean-shaven man, sat in the center of a long brown couch. He was flanked by two smaller men, both with some amounts of facial hair and one with a pair of thick spectacles on. In other chairs around him were more people, men and women, about six in all. Hanging on the walls around them were the heads of countless dead beasts, many so exotic that Delbar had never seen anything like them.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something important, Mr. Gladden,” said Delbar, sheepishly.

“Not at all, Mr…”

“Delbar…Tracking Officer at Morgan Interstellar, Tracking Room 3…”

“Oh yeah, a guest,” responded Gladden, rolling his eyes, though neither Delbar or Monty could see it. Gladden was somewhat ticked off by Snakeye’s choice to ask a guest to deliver his message. “What’s up with Snakeyes?”

“Umm…he said he was being pursued by a gunzle, Mercer, or some name like that. He wanted me to deliver his message for him,” responded Delbar.

“Ah, OK. What’s the message, Mr. Delbar?”

“Something to the effect of ‘Saleed is not with us’.”

“Oh, alright. Thanks. You’ve been very helpful. Gives these two gentlemen fifty Morgan dollars each, Mr. Braine.”

“Well, I was rather hoping you would tell me what this was all about, as someone down there did try to kill Mr. Delbar,” said Monty.

“Well, it is rather complicated. As you may realize, the Saleed of the message is the manager of this resort, Mr. Saleed al Hassoun. You may not realize that he is something of a danger to the government. In fact, he used to be a politician before links were found that connected him with the attempt on the life of the CEO during the Bree War. I doubt you are old enough to remember that, however. I certainly am not. From here he seems to have become deeply involved with several…Mafia groups. In fact, some of the people working here even refer to him as the Don,” Delbar did not say so, but he had heard some stewards refer to old Gladden as the don. “He helps out a man named Boreo, a very powerful man in the Corporate Sector, System 1. Mr. Boreo and his men deal in drugs, the illegal ones I mean. He buys, sells, and smuggles them. One of his jobs accidentally got the levanda ant onto Pollux D, and that’s been no end of trouble for the farmers there, especially in the Coral Islands area. Anway, we are pretty sure that, in some way or another, Mr. al Hassoun has some big time ties with that guy. Mr. al Hassoun has ties also with the Free Capella movement, which you may or may not have heard of.”

“Free Capella movement? There is one already?”

“It was around before we Morganites got into the picture, but since the Terrans were defeated there, the group’s object has been to drive off the Morganites, and become a separate entity. Thanks to Snakeye’s message, it’s been confirmed that Saleed has been assisting them, and has, in fact, started paying for the production on a warship, a very large and powerful one, on one of the moons of Terra Nova, with which they wish to accomplish their goal. It’ll be completed in about two years. The CEO doesn’t want the construction stopped however; he has his own plans on what to do with it. Saleed thinks that by helping out, he might be able to use them for his own purposes once they secede. Saleed wants more power, and he wants Morgan out. He’s got mob influences, and now influences in the Free Capella movement. It’s not especially good, but it’s nothing to cry over. If anything starts up, my boys…I mean, the government will take care of the guy. See him out, if you like. I hope that answers your questions. We’ll be watching Saleed closely, don’t you guys worry.”

Delbar and Monty were then shown out of the room, and were hussled off towards the lift. “You know, Monty,” said Delbar, “I leave in a week. I can’t say I’ll particularly miss this place.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[Frankychan]

Morganite Colony: Samnos
Hive Command Ship People's Glory
Five days before fall of Cadre's Dienkes Base

Warning klaxon's still blared throughout the command ship's bridge. Sparks flew from exposed wires dangling from the bridge's ceiling. The last hit from the Morganite barrage disabled the command ships engines. Admiral Bippol's ship was, now in effect, a stationary orbiting platform.

The admiral gripped what was left of a guard rail while technicians fought to put out fires that were breaking out all over the bridge. Two security personnel removed a dead officer, passing right in front of Bippol. A ceiling beam jutted out and stood like a totem pole in the center of the room.

"What's our status?" Bippol shouted above the chaos. He noticed his uniform was torn badly from the shoulder to his waist. He felt something moving on his forehead and wiped it off. Looking back at his hand he noticed it was covered in blood.

A human tactical officer, also bleeding from his forehead, answered.

"Admiral, wing commanders reporting numerous losses. Six of our frigates are destroyed while five more are heavily damaged. Corvette losses equal eight with four badly damaged. One battlecruiser lost and one with a fractured hull. The Terran Fleet diverted some of the Morganites."

Bippol grimaced at the sound of the Terran Fleet. Sure, they diverted some of the defenders, but their sheer brashness was astounding.

Since arriving in the system, the Terran Fleet ordered all Hive ships not to land on Samnos and even went so far as to threaten to fire if Hive troops landed on the colony world.

Bippol, wary but compliant, ordered no Hive landing craft to approach the planet. The sheer gall of these arrogant Terrans! Do they not know who they are dealing with?

The admiral limped to a stationary datapad. The stabbing pain in his right leg told him that it was broken due to the Morganite cannonade. One more thing you Morganites must pay for, Bippol thought.

"Order our fighters to regroup for a secondary attack. Have our bombers commence attack at the regrouped Morgan ships at that platform." Bippol began punching his personal code into the datapad. "All ships are to attack the remaining Morganites. All ships that are badly damaged and beyond repair are to ram any opposing ships. Lastly, send this message as well as a copy of the Spartan message to Hive command. They may want to know the Spartans are here."

* * *
Encrypted Message
To: Hive command
From: Admiral Bippol of Expeditionary Fleet

Offensive at Samnos proceeding well. Acceptable losses inflicted by Morganites to Hive Fleet. Terran arrival unexpected. Terrans threaten to fire on Hive ships if Hive troops land on Samnos.

Spartan vessels engaged with Hive forces. Repeat, Spartan vessels at Samnos.

Prediction that control of Samnos space will occur shortly.
* * *
--------------------
The remaining Hive fighters, still numering in the hundreds, regrouped and set course to the Morganite platform.
--------------------
Hive Fighter Group: Luo Yang
Hive Fighter Pilot LY-01, Wing Commander Trenton Wilford (human)

Commander Wilford set course for the Morganite cluster, knowing that his fellow fighter pilots were right behind him. Narrowing his eyes, he analyzed what was ahead of him.

Numerous Morganic capital ships were all huddled next to each other while fighter patrols revolved around the "cluster". He thought he spotted the infamous Spartan ships.

"Fighter Wing Luo Yang," Wilford spoke into his comm, "Our target is the Spartan corvettes. Break through the defense grid and commence attack on them. Kamikaze bomb the Spartans if you receive too much flak."

The wing commander nodded as his fighter pilots all acknowledged his orders.

As he closed in to the "cluster", the Morganites began firing on his fighter. Wilford jinked his fighter left and right, dodging the large projectiles flying past him. Through the flak of the defenses he saw a couple Morganite fighters on an attack trajectory with him.

Wilford smiled and fired his rail gun. He was rewarded with one of the enemy fighters exploding in a shower of sparks and debris.
--------------------
Hive corvette: Drone Keeper

Captain Zzrin, a Xiero, watched on his viewscreen as Hive fighters began swarming the last remaining defenders. Turning toward the helmsman, he began his orders.

"Helm, set course for the Morganite platform."

The Fran helmsman turned to face the Xiero captain.

"Sir, we are too badly damaged to survive a direct assault."

The captian sneered, "I know that. We are going in with our guns blazing. Orders are to ram enemy vessels if our ship is beyond repair. Our ship is beyond repair so we will ram."

"Yes sir." The Fran turned to set the suicide course.
---------------------

The Drone Keeper began its final destination toward the Morganites. Numerous other vessels formed up with the Drone Keeper, some with huge holes gaping in their sides, others trailing sparks in space.

The damaged vessels literally became a suicide fleet, ready to engage with their enemies, pledging their lives to defeat the foes of Emperor Yang.

[Lonestar]

Combine Honnete Ober Advancer Mercantiles(CHOAM) Building
Nuevo San Antonio
Beta Hydri 4

"You must be twisting my tail, Lord Protector. You cannot be serious."

Lord Protector Ian leaned forward from his spot on the Executive Directorship table. "I'm dead serious Ambassador Atvar. We've already begun trade with the Free Drone Republic, and we are in the process of hammering a trade treaty with Morgan Industries out."

"I will have to consult the Emperor. A directorship is one thing, but a Executive directorship?"

Combine Honnete Ober Advancer Mercantiles(CHOAM) was the huge super-corporation that was created when the interstellar trade agencies of the Protectorate and the Dosi Federation was merged some years back. Now it administered intersteller trade throughout both the Protectorate and the Dosi Federation. While there were over 150 "Directors" in addition to several billion shareholders, there were only 10 "Executive Directors", the real power in CHOAM. Ian, the Protectorate Trade Minister, Alchemax, and Stark-Fujikawa held executive Directorship positions. Currently, there was a opening on the Dosi part of the ED. Bringing in a human would level control of CHOAM somewhat. (The shareholders were still overwhelmingly Dosi).

And Lord Protector Ian could think of no better person than MI CEO Morgan.

Ambassador Atvar briefly moved into the Dosi posture of respect. "I will convey your resquest to the CHOAM center on Barraka. I know the Emperor considers you a friend, but I do not know if he will let the Board allow such a thing." He scurried out.

A courier walked into the room, and handed a flimsy to Ian. "My Lord." He gave a sharp salute and walked back out.

Ian glanced at the note.


GHE unresponsive. Admiral Fel taking Battle Squadron Able of the 4rth fleet to begin raid on LP 658-2

-Kolasklar


Alchemax CEO Stone looked at Ian.

"Something interesting, M'lord?"

"Nothing at all, Tyler. I believe you wanted to make a report....?"

[Mr. President]

Two pens moved in unison. Three strokes and it was done. Kristy Adams and Menelaus rose from the table and shook hands, as applause cascaded around them.

Abruptly, the scene froze. Ethan Maxwell fidgeted with the remote control, staring through the projection. "This situation has progressed far beyond the acceptable level," he said. "The fascist alliance is growing by the day, and all our attempts to stop it have failed."

"I'm afraid I genuinely don't understand." Another Freedom Party Senator, Robert Patrick, spread his hands in question. "The Cadre is no danger to our cause. They're not going to influence Adams' economics or military policies -"

"I have seen this before," Maxwell said, rising from his seat. His hair was grey and thin, but the inflections of his voice were identical to when he was the second man in Domai's military-communist junta. Pacing up and down the long room, he continued, "Adams would have us believe that her 'trade' with Lakedaemon is humanitarian in nature. Nothing could be further from the truth. She will exploit that world ruthlessly, strip it to the bone, squeeze every last penny from it. Then she will drop it like a hot iron. We must stop her, and fast."

"Why should we care?" another man asked nervously. "Our mission is to socialize the Free Drones."

"Our mission," Maxwell snapped, "is to free the oppressed workers of all nations. To do that, we must destroy the capitalist alliance that holds them down."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "And the first step," he said, "is eliminating the New Republic.

"If we ourselves," he continued, "attempt to overthrow or impeach Adams, she will have an excuse to imprison us all. She'll close down the Freedom Party and make socialism illegal. You know that's what she really wants." Maxwell waved his hands to emphasize the point, and was satisfied to see many of the younger conspirators nodding vigorously. "But if the people rise up and demand change . . . all the secret police in the galaxy won't be able to stop it. I move we take a vote."

"Seconded," someone said from the back of the room.

The Freedom Party and Socialist Alternative officials picked up their datapads and began typing. They were attached to the master computer. Maxwell accessed it and typed to command for collation of ballots.

A moment later, the result came through: Yes 27 No 23.

"The ayes have it," Maxwell smiled. "This meeting is adjourned. You will all be contacted soon to discuss the details of our resolution."

The socialist movement filed out of the room. But Robert Patrick stayed behind. His back to the door, he hissed through clenched teeth, "What are you doing, Ethan?"

As the elderly senator looked up, Patrick continued, "Have you lost your mind? You want to sponsor a popular revolt?"

Maxwell drew himself up to his full height. Casting a serpentine gaze down on the younger man, he said evenly, "We have lost our way, Robert. We can put this country back on the right track."

"You will start another Civil War!"

"I will save this country from the horrors of fascism," Maxwell retorted. His eyes narrowed. "You have grown too accustomed to the trappings of politics, Robert. You live the life of a capitalist in your mansion, with a man driving you to work. We are not about politics. We are about revolution."

Maxwell walked to the door, then paused to glance back. "And if you can't deal with the heat, stay out of the kitchen."

[Mellian]

Novan Argonaut Cruiser Wildfire, orbiting some Morganite planet in the Agyptii A system

Joe Nova as been at the bridge for over 10 hours now, watching over the whole battle between the TA forces and the few Morganite ships. The Terrans hasn't moved against any of the space stations, orbitals and space docks which his clan was hired to defend. He was arguing with the local Morganite Commodore incharge of the Morganite forces in the system when he received the message from Kerensky. It pretty much set the Commodore on mute and listen to the message.

Better offer, hmmm? That is quite an fortune. He took about ten minutes thinking over it, remembering what his data angels contacts told him and the consequences if took the new offer...
Hey, if they were to be wanted, may as well take the offer...especially when his ships are in the best of positions....

To: Fleet Admiral Kerensky, TAF
From: Joe Nova, Novan Clan

Your offer is acceptable...we just have to make it official and proper (attached the Novans usual contract and how much the Morganites were currently paying them). I would also like an guerantee that my clan will be accepted in Terran territory...as we do need somewhere to hide. Morgan will not be please and apparently the Spartans and Drones wants my head.

Joe Nova

[History Guy]

Skies Above Samnos, Orbital Platform 7

Crackling, sparking, wheezing, they all rolled forth. There must have been a hundred or more of them. Small and large wounded Hiverian ships. They were all heading straight for the remains of the Morganite Samnos fleet, huddled around the last remaining orbital platform. There were hundreds of them, riding on in an uncoordinated attack. Despite the pitiful state of the wounded, smoking ships, they still looked incredibly formidable. Within seconds, dozens of smaller Hiverian fighters came within range of the Morganite guns, and were soon blasted back to where they came from. Namely, Hell.

“Looks like they are turning kamikaze,” said Commodore Marianne Whatley, still sitting in her chair, "It's no surprise." The damage to the Endeavor on the bridge area was under control. The problems now were back within the belly of the whale-like ship she commanded. The fires there spread unchecked, roaring over the wounded where they lay. The flames danced across the lower levels of the vessel.

As Whatley looked across the vale of the heavens from the bridge port view, she watched as a Hiverian corvette, badly wounded in many spots, rolled forward, sparks flying from various wounded spots, flames licking at several areas of her body. She had obviously been a well-constructed ship. Knowing the Hive, it was probably built by thousands of brainless drones, all with the marks of nerve stapling on their bodies. The corvette slammed right against the bow of one of the Morganite corvettes, the noses of the two ships connecting, and cracking like eggs. The two bows exploded. Whatley looked away as the bridge was flooded with casualty reports and details on the fighting at Naxos.

As this happened, a flaming Hiverian fighter suddenly slammed right at the bow of the frigate. As the bridge shook, Whatley heard shards of metal slamming against the walls all around her. “Damage report,” called Ensign Simpson, “severe damage to forward area, there are several dead. Fires are breaking out all over the area. It’s burning like crazy. Soon this ship will be just one big floating cinder.” Indeed, the damage on the bridge was pretty bad. In the darkness of the bridge, the crackles of electricity could be seen emerging from burst electronics. Charred bits of metal lay on the floor beside the dead and wounded. Dr. Francis Kippler and his assistant surgeon were quickly gathering around the wounded, doing as much work as possible on the bridge. The assistant seemed to be taking a break in the shadows. He’d been inactive since the fighter struck.

“I say,” said Ensign Nehru, “must you get up to that in here?”

“The medic wing is full up,” snarled Kippler, “Where in hell should I work?”

The ship vibrated as something exploded deep in the bowels of the vessel, far below. Whatever it was, it sounded bad. “There’s a breach in the starboard reactor house!” called Simpson. Whatley turned her head at him. He was bleeding from the forehead. When the fighter had struck he’d been thrown against a wall. One of his lesser assistants was dead in his seat, his neck snapped like a twig, his body slumped backwards in his chair.

Dr. Kippler cursed. “All my supplies are used up. I’ll need one of you to go back to the wing and get some more…”

“Ensign Nehru, would you please assist the Doctor?” asked Whatley.

“Why can’t his assistant surgeon get the supply kits for him?”

“Because, damn it, he doesn’t have any hands…” responded Kippler. The assistant lifted up his arms. It was true. They’d been horrifically damaged when the fighter struck the bow. Nehru suddenly felt very ill indeed. Nehru turned away in disgust and gave a salute to the Commodore. Turning, he walked towards the doors, which hissed open in front of them. He then walked into the unlit halls.

The walk was exceedingly longer than Nehru ever remembered it to be. While moving down the walkway at a jogging pace, Nehru could hear things literally bouncing off the hull of the vessel. Tapping noises were also audible. Bits of metal, obviously, colliding with the side of the ship. Or bodies…Nehru closed his eyes and tried not to think about anything except the supplies he was sent to get.

A little down the walkway he was stopped. An Officer whom he did not recognize walked towards him from the gloom. “Ensign, I am afraid you can’t go any further. The fires down there are unchecked. I sent a party down there to assist the firemen down there eight minutes ago. I lost contact entirely. It must be pretty bad.”

Nehru cursed aloud, “Officer, I’ve been sent down to the medic wing. Dr. Kippler is up on the bridge now. She was breached on the bow, a single Hiverian fighter slammed right into her. Those Hiverian idiots…Look, how do I get down to the medic wing to avoid the fire?”

“Ah, follow me, Ensign.” The Officer turned around and walked down an adjacent walkway to another door. The Officer flashed the palm of his hand across it and it hissed open. “Follow me. This is the alternative route. I must warn you, I haven’t a clue as to whether or not there are flames about down this route.”

Turning into another passage, the officer walked down, vanishing into the darkness. Nehru tried to follow, but at first he did not see him any longer, there was no light at all down here. Suddenly, Nehru was nearly blinded by light. It was from beyond a door sliding open in front of him. Nehru could see the officer’s silhouette in the distance. “Follow me,” the officer repeated. Nearing the officer, Nehru realized that much of his uniform had actually been burned away by intense heat during fire-fighting actions. How bad was it? Entering the lighted starboard crossway was a relief. There was a door here leading to the port side of the ship, and another door leading on further aft. The officer approached the portside door. “Please stand back, Ensign. I don’t know whether or not this area is on fire.”

Flashing his palm in front of the door, the officer tensed himself as the hatch hissed open. Much to his horror flames belched forth at him, red, white, and blue alike. Before Nehru’s eyes, the officer became a living ball of flame. As the officer turned about in front of him, the ship shook underneath him.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Marianne Whatley felt water splash against her face and her eyes flickered open. Surveying the bridge around her, she realized that she’d just barely survived a second head-on strike to the bow. Another Hiverian fighter, damn it! And in the exact same place! Whatley was all right, and so, it seemed was just about everyone else. She’d simply been knocked unconscious, as had a great deal of other crewmen. A young officer stood over her with a wet cloth. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Whatley. She tried to get to her feet, but found it almost impossible, slipping to the ground at once. There was blood all over the floor. The young officer gripped her hand and pulled her up. “What happened?”

“The kamikaze Hiverians. Another wave of suicide ships attacked. One of them slammed across the bridge of our corvette. About two dozen of them slammed right into the Spartan corvette. It’s just swiss cheese now…”

“Is the orbital platform in action?”

“Yes. It just downed an enemy frigate minutes ago. All these damaged enemy ships…being shot up like crazy…and we’ve only got four ships left and our platform.”

“Can we hold out longer?”

The young officer respondedly sadly, “Longer, yes, but when it is all done we’ll all be dead. The Hiverians look to be rather tired of simply slamming their wounded against us, I think the next thing to do is to send in their fresh ships…their capital ships as well.”

“Alright. Have a message sent asking for terms of surrender. Wide-ban transmission, so that the Hive can read it. I want it directed to the Terrans and the Terrans only. The Hive will be ignored if it sends it’s terms. Oh, and order our men on the orbital platform to abandon it and detonate defragmentation charges.”

“Aye, Aye.”

The doors hissed open behind her. Nehru limped in, his uniform charred and tattered, his face blackened and covered in soot, sweat, and blood. In his arms he held several small plastic boxes. “Here, Doctor, are your supply kits.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[Mellian]

TAS Orion, 12th TAF Task Force, Cyclanid System

Admiral Cooper is at the Command Nexus on the Orion, watching the battle around Samnos. Notices that the Morganites as Surrendered, so quickly sends a reply....

------------
To: Morganite forces
From: Admiral Cooper of the TA forces around Samnos
cc: TA Forces, Hive Fleet

Surrender Accepted,
All remaining Morganite ships in the vicinity are to go at these coordinates (numbers), and prepare to be boarded. All ground forces on Samnos are to surrender as well.

Admiral Cooper
----------

He didn't bother to ask for the surrendering of the last remaining orbital defence platform, as they are currently detonating it. He also quickly informed the Hive to cease fire on Morganite forces, or again, TA forces will fire upon them. Personally, he rather get rid of them right there and then, but cannot according orders if they cooperate. Also took some time to inform the EC Admiral that it will be TAF Marines that will board the surrendered morganite ships.

He orders a squadron of Battlecruisers with escorts to go to the morganite ships and begin boarding. Also informed to have some Medic and Engineer teams to board the ships as well.

He then checks the status on Shebeyev's forces, to see wether Naxos' forces as surrendered as well....

[History Guy]

WIDE-BAND TEXT MESSAGE
FROM: Commodore M.F. Whatley
TO: Admiral Cooper, TAF

Sir,

We agree to your kind terms. We expect that you shall treat us in a fashion befitting. Think us enemies, but remember our heroic stand. The CEO also wishes to forward to you the information that the colony of Samnos has also surrender due to it's inability to defend itself further. We trust you will call off surface bombardments as of this minute. We must warn you, our own frigate, the Endeavor, is slowly burning away from several bad fires spreading from below decks. If she is to be saved, action must be taken now. The fighter Holy Cow will have to be towed to the designated coordinates.

Thank you.
---------------------------------------

ENCRYPTED VISUAL MESSAGE
FROM: CEO Nwabudike Morgan
TO: Lord Protector Ian McDiarmid

My dear sir,

It is with the greatest pleasure that I accept the kind offer of Executive Director at CHOAM. The only ones who will be complaining of it will be my secretaries! As well as working on my other duties (i.e. managing my companies and my people!) I am sure that I can be of much assistance to you and the great Dosi people in further business transactions through CHOAM. Perhaps in this position, trade between both the Protectorate and the Dosi can even be expanded to include trade with Morgan Interstellar. I sincerely hope it does.

As for the treaty negotiations, I am sending via diplomatic ship a team of dignitaries headed by Mrs. Head to hammer out the agreements at Neuvo San Antonio. I'm sure some very prosperous deals can be arranged.

Lastly, I hope very much that the archival data sent to you concerning the Human Hive (now known as the Greater Hive Empire) was of assistance. I'm sure your scholars and historians can make use of it in their histories, as will you tacticians in their designs. In these archives there are over one million seperate (datalink) pages to get through, stretching from the birth of Sheng-j Yang so many years ago to the FTL wars and the encounter with the Hiverian scout ship some years ago.

In exchange, I'd like to ask a favor. I believe that you have encountered the Hive yourselves by now, as otherwise I doubt you would send a message asking for information on that government. I ask you now, if you do have the commlink for that empire, of which I am sadly lacking, please send it to me. I'd like very much to use it at some further time. If they are your enemy, you need not worry, they are not my best friends either...

Thank you,
Morgan
-----
WHERE DO YOU WANT YOUR NODE TODAY?

[Lonestar]

LP 658-2

The angry man's face filled the viewscreen of the BonHomme Richard's command Bridge. Admiral Soontir Fel smiled as the fool, his name was Wilcox, prattled on.

"You and your vessels" There were 5 Battleships in this strike force "Will leave immediately. We will not 'surrender', not ever, and certainly not to the likes of you. Now stop jamming our transmissions!"

Fel sighed and made the "cut-feed" gesture. He turned to the Communications officer.

"Inform Able Squadron they may fire at will."

The five battleships launched a barrage of Particle, plasma, and fusion weapons. In less than a minute, the Hive listening station was destroyed. The BonHomme Richard's Tac officer spoke up.

"There appears to be a encampment mear where the Glorfindel went down sir. Instructions?"

Fel scratched his beard. Would the Hiverians on the ground be more receptive to surrendering? Probaly not. He clicked on the All-Squadron frequency.

"All ships, Sky-Gamma-Zero on the Hive encampment on the planet. Leave no survivors."

The Five vessels manuevered over the Planet and fired down. And Again. And Again. Eventually, when the Protectorate squadron finally left, the most notable feature of the planet was a australia-sized crater....

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


ENCRYPTED VISUAL MESSAGE
To: CEO Nwabudike Morgan
From: Lord Protector Ian McDiarmid

CEO Morgan, the Hive archival information was most useful, thank you.

I would, of course, be more than happy to give you the commlink to Yang. Bear in mind, he calls himself "Emperor" now, and seeks Godhood. Obviously, his sanity must be called into question.

I will personally greet your trade dignitaries, and hope that you eventually visit our Fair City. I believe that Trade between our two Nation-states will be most profitable, as will our exchange of knowledge on Alien races not known to the other.

I have recieved word from the Dosi Government that they will allow you to given a Executive Directorship on CHOAM's board. While this will make the ED split 50-50 along Human and Dosi lines, I would like to inform you that the majority of CHOAM shareholders are Dosi. I'm sure that a man of your skills willd find himself welcome in CHOAM.

Ambassador Atvar of the Dosi Federation will be sitting in on our trade talks. While the Dosi government will not permit Direct trade with Morgan Industries/Intersteller yet, by virture of you being on CHOAM's board, you'll have the oppurtunity to procure Dosi goods and services through the Protectorate on a scale that would be impossible otherwise.

Friend Nwabudike, I eagerly await your trade delegation and the oppurtunity to meet you in person. If there are any difficulties with peace talks between yourself and the EC/TA, let me know.

Regards,
Ian

[Frankychan]

Hive Prime

Smiling, Emperor Yang stood beside Warmaster Kang in the war room. Reports from the Expeditionary Fleet were coming in while duplicate data was being sent to Shirlak and Ehud on planet Great Collective. Ship losses scrolled down various large vidscreens on the wall while smaller screens flashed additional data. One screen in particular caught Yang's eye.

"That screen, there," Sheng-ji pointed, "Magnify and enhance."

The primary screen, showing the battlefield camera, instantly switched and began magnification. On screen showed a salvo of Morganite missles impact the People's Glory near the engine turbines. The Emperor's gaze narrowed as he stalked closer to the screen. Yang slowly lifted his left hand in preparation to give a command.

"Stop image." Sheng-ji focused on one location in particular. "Rewind and play back at one-fourth speed."

The location Yang was staring at confirmend his suspicion.

"Spartans." Sheng-ji hissed. Behind, Warmaster Kang growled in contempt.

The Emperor abruptly turned to Kang, his imperial robes fanning out at his sudden movement.

"The Spartans are in the Morganite territories!" Yang's anger flashed across his face.

Serenity....Cannot let my emotions dictate my actions.

Regaining his composure, Sheng-ji took a deep, relaxing breath.

"Kang, how is it that our agents in the Morgan territories failed to tell us that there were Spartan ships located nearby?"

Warmaster Kang hung his head shamefully. "I do not know, your excellency."

The Emperor slowly advanced on Kang while wearing a slight smile.

Still hanging his head, Kang was taken aback when the Emperor suddenly exploded into action, striking him across the face.

"My dear Warmaster, " Yang began, "I want better intelligence gathering next time...You and Shirlak both. Do you understand?"

Kang nodded slowly.

"Good. It seems Admiral Bippol was correct in there being Spartans at Samnos. I must address an interesting transmission sent by Lord Ian as well. I'm giving Ambassador M'rock new orders, he's been sitting out there for too long now."

The Emperor paused and glanced around the war room.

"I believe our Samnos campaign is successfully over. Tell Admiral Bippol that as soon as his fleet completes moderate repairs, he is to set course to System LP 658-2."

* * *
Encrypted visual message
To: Lord Ian of Protectorate
From: Emperor Sheng-ji Yang

*Yang smiled* Greeting, Ian. I trust you and your little government is doing well. Our agents have found some intersting data about you and your little Endeavor incident. Oh, by the way...how is your wife fairing? *Yang's grin widened*

To address your marvelous insight on Hive affairs with the Morganites, that is none of your concern. What we do does not concern your insignificant faction; The Morgan's, Terrans, and ourselves are "discussing" new territorial acquisition procedures...something the Protectorate and the Hive Empire may well have to "discuss" at a later date.

As for your so-called 'orders'...Hive forces will remain in the Terran's newly acquired territory until they have finished our assignment there. I am aware of your dealings with Nwabudike and Terra so don't think I am oblivious to what you are doing.

I do enjoy our conversations, Ian, and hope we can talk later. Your sarcastic humor is infinetly amusing.

Yang out.
* * *
Encrypted message
To: Ambassador Telhai M'rock, Hive-Spartan Border
From: His Imperial Highness Emperor Sheng-ji Yang

Ambassador M'rock, I have contacted you directly to discuss a most mportant matter. Command has, until now, ordered you to stall the Spartan Federation. Unfortunately, this tactic has failed.

Therefore, your new orders are to give the Spartans my personal com-link attached to this message. After you have done this, you will return to your base of operations, planet Plex Anthill. Relay the attached message to Sparta before you leave."

* * *
* * *
Encrypted Visual Message
To: Marcus Kessel, Colonel of Spartan Federation
From: His Imperial Majesty: Emperor Sheng-ji Yang I, Leader of the Greater Hive Empire

*Yang's face exhibited no emotion*

Colonel Marcus Kessel. Leader of the Spartan Federation. Born-2312, Sparta Command. Yes, Kessel, I am indeed Sheng-ji Yang. The same man who led the Human Hive on Chiron all those centuries ago.

You fought in the FTL wars against my forces, quite impressive. The Human Hive at that time was ill-prepared to meet such a tenacious foe...but that is beside the point.

I have officially contacted the Spartan Federation to tell you personally that your attacks against Hive forces in the Samnos affair are unwarranted and unjustified. My forces are lending aid to a government that found itself brutally attacked by Nwabudike's military.

Your intervention on Morgan's behalf is quite shocking, considering the fact that Hive-Spartan relations have not been on the best of terms in the past. I would think that you Spartans would learn from our engagements in the past that Hive forces are not to be taken lightly. I would also think that the Spartan Federation would be careful not to upset the Hive Empire so soon after our recent conflicts.

Corazon Santiago must not have trained her dog as well as she thought she had, Marcus. *Yang narrowed his eyes* I would think her new pet would be smarter than to provoke an unwarranted attack on another government.

Your message has been received and here is my reply:

We would welcome a chance to discuss matters with the Spartan Federation about Hive liberation of Spartan territory. If you and your military think you can invade Hive territory, you will be sadly mistaken...the galaxy would not be prepared for the onslaught of the Hive should Sparta attack us.

You have been warned, Kessel. Do not provoke another war your Spartan Federation may not be able to survive. The Hive is a much different foe since the last time we met.

I leave you with this one last thought, Colonel...

Do not upset the water if you are not prepared for the deluge.

Emperor Yang out.

* * *

[Sprayber]

******Encrypted Visual Message ******
To: Yang.
From Colonel Marcus Kessel


*Kessel’s face is blank*

I would have thought a person of your age and experience would have grown out of the need for petty insults by now. But after a few centuries I suppose even the sharpest mind will begin to believe the propaganda that is spewed out in his name. But putting aside that. Your comments about Spartan forces attacking Hive ships in what was once the Morgan Cooperate Sector and now Spartan Territory must have taken all your strength to keep from bursting out in laughter. You are no doubt claiming some sort of victory to your people or hiding it altogether. The latter would be best since your so called allies don’t seem to want you around anymore. Perhaps upon seeing the wanton disregard for everyone’s life but your own, they have seen your true nature. Once again Yang, you have shown your cards to them too early. They see you for what you are. And your endless talk about Sparta upsetting this and upsetting that may work on your mindless populations but they only bore me. If you had the power to destroy Sparta, you have tried to do so. We know many things about your supposed readiness. We know that without suicide tactics your fleets are no better than the Morganites. We know that without the Terrans you are unable to sustain invasions for any appreciable length of time. We also know that there is a new player in the neighborhood that is not friendly to you. And finally, we know that your alien allies were beaten back the last time they tried to make inroads into this region of space. Tell me Yang, why doesn’t your ally help you? Could it be that they are being beaten back by the Gorn on every major front in their ancient war? And if you don’t know, why aren’t they telling you? Your only real problem Yang is that you believe the garbage that your underlings tell you. They are have stopped being honest to you centuries ago and now let you go about your trip into this fantasy empire that you have built for yourself. But as long as you stay in your borders and stay out of Spartan affairs and those of our allies, I don’t care what you do in your empire. But the moment you cross the borders into Spartan, Drone, Morganite, Cadre, or independent space, Sparta will be there to slap you down and bring you back to cold reality. My advice is go start something with the Peacekeepers. Their endless rhetoric about democracy will be a perfect match for your endless rhetoric about whatever you think passes for a government. Now if you will excuse me, I have things to attend to.

But first, one more thing Yang. It goes without saying that any hive vessel or force found in Spartan or allied territory will be eliminated. But be warned that also goes for those found inside Cadre territory as well.
*Kessel smiles and his image is replaced by the emblem of the Spartan Federation*


As Kessel walked out of the Comm room he was joined by Major Castor who had been in an adjoining room monitoring traffic from various Area commanders.

“At least you sounded calm sir when you delivered the message to Yang.”

“I was telling the truth for the most part, his endless speaches do bore me. In fact that was always Colonel Santiago’s biggest complaints against the man. His endless speeches and philosophical ranting. She said during her training in the Unity security force she would volunteer for extra duty just to get away from his damn speeches. I believe here words were, worse than Pravin Lal’s mindless babble.”

They both laughed has they came to split in the hallway.

“Major. I want you to relay the Hive comm link to the Morganites. Send a message to their ambassador here on Sparta Prime and apologize that I couldn’t send a message personally to CEO Morgan but there was urgent business with defense matters that had to be handled.”

“Right away sir”

With that the exchanged a brief glance and they started off in separate directions.

*****Encrypted Diplomatic Message*****
To: Morgan Ambassador
From: Major Lera Castor.

Dear Ambassador, the Spartan Federation has come in possession of the Comm Link to the Hive. Colonel Kessel wished to give it to the CEO personally but urgent defense matters called him away. If you come to the Central Command building I will personally hand it over to you and assist in transmitting it to your home world.

Respectfully, Major Lera Castor: Chief of Staff-Spartan Central Command

[Sprayber]

******Encrypted Message*****

To: Fleet Admiral Kerensky
From: Colonel Marcus Kessel

Admiral, I don’t usually explain myself to military commanders from a hostile fleet but I am beginning to have doubts that there are any reliable civilian alternatives in your Government. Since I have sent repeated messages to apparently no one of importance, I guess I will try you. Our presence in the conflict is really rather simple. Morgan Interstellar is an ally under attack. Several attempts have been made to make peace with your government before the attack on Capella, and even before the attack on Callisto, but there was an odd silence from your government while InEn appeared to prosecute the war. All that is the past however and that should not be allowed to undermine the moment. You are currently conducting offensive operations In Spartan Territory. You have said that you don’t recognize that fact but since we do, it appears that continued violence can be expected. Unless we choose to stop the conflict where it know stands. There has been some question raised that your forces had already seized territory before the official transfer to Sparta was completed. If that is the case then certain things can be worked out by all parties later. As I see it Admiral there are really two choices in the whole matter. One we cease hostilities immediately and settle this as civilized societies. You may find that CEO Morgan is satisfied the InEn threat has been ended and will be willing to deal with terms favorable to Terra or. Two we can continue this war indefinitely until one or both of our states are exhausted and depleted. Honor has been served by all parties, it is time to put this foolishness behind us. I do hope that you will not mistake my suggestions as weakness, because you should not doubt that Sparta stands willing to prosecute this war to the bitter end. But I hope that cooler heads will prevail.

One more thing Admiral. Reports of cooperation with the Hive have some of my advisors claiming that Terra cannot be trusted. I prefer to believe that the presence of Hive forces is a mere coincidence and that Terra would know better than to deal with such elements as the Hive. They seek to create chaos and opportunities to manipulate. If I were you Admiral, I would want to know the exact circumstances of their involvement in this matter. And also If I were you, I would make sure that there are no Hive ears listening to you in Sol. They can be very sneaky. I await your answer to my proposal to cease hostilities where forces stand and use negotiations to handle the rest. You have two systems in your hands with a good chance at a third. Think hard about why this is being fought. Then decide if its worth fighting for another decade or tow.

Respectfully Marcus Kessel: Colonel Of The Militia.

CC Ceo Morgan **Encrypted**

[GeneralTacticus]

FTL Transit to Laekdaemon, 4 days before the fall of Dienkes Base

Menelaus sat in his shipboard qurters, staring absently at his computer screen. Currently it was blank, but he wasn't looking at it. He was looking right through the dark screen, seeing nothing but his own thoughts.

How much things have changed since our founding... he thought, ...we started out a group of idealists who wanted to change Sparta. Now we are little different to them. He contemplated this for a moment before dismissing it from his mind. He had other things to do.

Switching the computer on he tapped a few keys and brought up it's records of all the reports submitted to him. He gave them all only cursory examinations, as they were on trivial matters. Conveniently, his commlink then beeped, informing him that they were entering Laekdaemon.

He got up and walked to the bridge, arriving just as they began swinging into orbit over Laekdaemon III. He stared down at the world below him. Fifty eight years he had ruled that world with absolute power. If all went well, he would rule it for the rest of his life. The ship now began descending towards Leonidas Aerocomplex, the central aerospace facility on the planet.

Twelve minutes later, Menelaus' ship landed and the Cadre leader stepped out once more onto the surface of his world. His bodyguards followed him out as he headed for his quarters.

[GeneralTacticus]

Laekdaemon Central

"General Menelaus, sir." Intel Director Katrina saluted as she stepped into his office. Menelaus looked at her blankly.

"I presume that you have something important to tell me?" he questioned, "You wouldn't have requested a private meeting for something unimportant."

"Sir, I have two things that could be potentially very important."

"Very well, what are they?" as he asked this Menelaus stood up and walked over to one of the armoured-glass windows. From up here he could see the distant flood plains and mountains, and the almost limitless expanse of the sea.

"First off, three ships were detected attempting to land without authorisation. They refused to reply when hailed and in consequence were shot down."

"Well, how is that particularly important?"

"One of them matched exactly the ship that Lysander took, and the other ones looked much like free traders."

Menelaus stiffened, but he showed no other evidence of surprise. He turned around slowly. "Do you mean that we may have shot Lysander down?" he asked coldly.

"Yes, sir, it's quite possible. We sent an investigation team over to see what was there, but all they found was wreckage and bloodstains. Our pilots reported that the ships were able to crashland in the Leonidas Jungle just before their missiles hit."

"When was this?"

"Around four days ago, sir."

"Why did you not inform me of it then?"

"We had not finished the investigation yet."

"Well, if there is no evidence of what happened, there is little point speculating. What was the second issue?" Menelaus turned back to the window, but this time he wasn't looking out at the view. He was remembering the horrors of the war with Sparta, and the relief he had felt when Project Oddyssey had been completed. Lysander had threatened to bring back the war. And with luck, he was now dead.

Katrina's voice brought him from his reverie. "Sir, the second matter is that of Dienkes Base. Today, around an hour ago, all contact with the base ceased. There was no alarm signal or anything, but all transmissions were cut off at the same time. We have been unable to get a reply from them or figure out what the hell happened."

Menelaus thought for a moment, then said, "We must assume that the worst has happened. Lysander is still alive and has taken over or at least attacked Dienkes Base. Therefore, we must act as we would if we knew. Scramble our transport choppers and begin deploying troops outside the base. If we find out that nothing is wrong, discontinue the operation. If Lysander is there, deal with him as you were ordered."

Katrina nodded and walked out to pass on Menelaus' orders.

[GeneralTacticus]

Laekdaemon

Katrina had delivered Menelaus' orders and the troops assigned to occupy Dienkes Base were preparing to leave when Lysander made his second speech.

"People of the Laekdaemon Cadre," his voice blared from every link in the Cadre networks, hijacked by his followers, "this is Major Lysander speaking to you."

"Today is a great day, a day which will be rembered eternally in the history of the Cadre as the beginning of liberation from Spartan domination. For decades, we have suffered under the tyranny of a man whose sole objective is to betray us all to Sparta. This man's name is Menelaus. Yes, the man who rules us right now, with an iron fist. The man who ordered my assassination to prevent me exposing his treason."

"Menelaus has, in open defiance of all our values, made peace with Sparta and begun trade with their allies. This is merely the first step towards full Spartan annexation of our territory. If he is not stopped, this will soon come to pass."

At this point his image on the screens vanished and was replaced by images from the long war with Sparta, of the brutal combat with Spartan soldiers, and of the atrocities commited by the Spartans against Cadre prisoners.

"We must not allow this! We have fought for centuries against the Spartan brutality, and now, with the potential for freedom within our grasp, we must not allow ourselves to fall! And I will not allow us to. The Greater Hive Empire under Emperor Yang has given it's support to us in our struggle."

"Already, we have liberated Dienkes Base. If you heed me, then we will free this entire world with ease. I call upon all of you, loyal members of the Laekdaemon Cadre, to rise up and overthrow the despotism of Menelaus and his lackeys! They have no power to control you but that which you grant them!"

As Lysander's speech ended, his followers across the planet went into action. Before the Cadre security forces could stop them, they were already in the process of taking New Antium.

The Cadre Civil War had begun.

[Sovereign]

Deep Space, 6 Light Years from Spira

The sparkle of distant ancient pinpricks of light has known millions, upon billions of Standard-Years of history, with several lucky pinpricks harboring planets that contain habitable planets. The closest pinprick was one of the lucky ones, harboring not one, but three distinct civilizations in its system.

Planets form from magma and nebulae, moons orbit their parent planets, mountains and craters are formed, meteors and asteroids deface the planets and moons, plates struggle with their brothers for supremacy on the planetary surfaces, oceans roil and toil with storms and shifting tides, millions upon billions of trees and fauna grow and die on the landmasses, animals evolve from simple bacteria to sentient life-forms that reach for the stars, millions of species become extinct and new ones spring up, landmasses become ravaged by natural disasters and unnatural disasters by way of war and civilization's hunger for resources, landscapes recover from the ravages, civilizations exodus from the planet towards the stars or kill themselves off like a certain civilization known as Humanity nearly did, and the cycle repeats endlessly for millions of habitable pinpricks of light out of billions.

The eternal flow of time and history mattered little to the black voidness of space, since it has no form or any awareness. It kills any lifeform caught within its grasp, unless the lifeforms are protected. It carries the pinpricks of light known as stars, and the planets that orbit them, observes them being born and destroyed without a care, and isn't even aware of its own existence. However, at that moment, the infinite void of space suddenly began to care as it cried out in pain. An infinitesmial section of void-space screamed and twisted in agony, that is, if sound could be heard, and if space itself could feel pain at all, as a purplish and bluish quantum tunnel endpoint crackling with energy bolts, erupted into existence. An unnatural object burst upon onto the scene, not of a planetary body, a star, or even a newly forming nebulae.

The unnatural object was all distorted at first, with pitch blackness and wavy shapes, as it decelerated from speeds far beyond light-speed. As it slowed down to the point of light and below, the deformations straightened out as light finally caught up to shine upon the unnatural object. The unnatural object revealed itself as a massive and impressive civilization-made object that travels the stars. Its six kilometer long elongated arrowhead shape is easily identified as an Enterprise carrier, but this particular ship has been extensively reconfigured to an flagship battleship, and the only one known to exist. Yet the null void of space returned to its uncaring existence, all memories of the pain of the quantum tunnel forgotten, as it had no awareness of its existence or the wonders it upheld in its infinite embrace.

The civilization on the wonderous space traveling vessel thought and felt differently, since they had awareness and sentience, and most of all, memories.

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

A man stood in center of a massive bridge with literally dozens of command posts and holo-LCD displays. He kept an impassive face, which had a goatee, solid tan skin, hawk straight nose, and piercing blue eyes. A scar ran from the bottom of the male's right eye to his cheeck in a zig-zag pattern. He turned his face towards a raised semicircle in the front of the bridge.

A male with a holo-visor turned from his helmsman command post to face the tall man standing in the center of the bridge.

"Quantum exiting from side-space tunneling complete, Admiral."

"Thank you primary helmsman. Maintain this position. Tactical Weapons Officer, maintain defensive grids and screens."

A blue colored humanoid standing at the tactical command post behind the admiral saluted smartly with his clawed hand to his left chest. The humanoid had three striking features, a thirty centimeter long horn protuding from his forehead, long braided grey hair, and had a tiger's face literally. The humanoid had evolved from a species of bluish horned tigers on the planet Spira, several hundreds of millennia ago.

He growled in his feral voice, "It is done. Ship is safe from enemys. Admiral no worry."

"Very good, Zevo Ronso. Vigilant as always."

The Admiral turned to the captain of the ship sitting in the captain's chair next to the upraised Admiral's command seat, and inquired, "How is Omega?"

"Omega is faring well, considering the circumstances. Omega hasn't changed at all, for better or worse, over the past few months. We don't think there will be any changes occuring any time soon if the condition keeps up."

The entire command staff knew what Omega was, however, no standard crew member knew exactly what it was. Extreme security procedures were in place to protect the Omega entity, from damage.


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

A city full of radar dishes, sensory equipment, and high rises laid on a plateau, surronded by rolling forests and a cluster of pink fungal stalks growing menacingly in the distance.

A view was looking at the crowd that was gathered in the tens of thousands, clamoring to hear a leader's speech for the next step of Humanity. "Exodus" was the simple, yet elegant title of the announcements.

A newsman was holding a holo-camera, recording the event, in the front row of the crowd, seperated into two sections by invisible force fields. One section was for the press and celebrated citizens of the city, while the other section contained the common citizenry of the city.

The crowd gave out a thunderous cheer, as the view swiveled to the left, to watch a old grizzled man come onstage, wearing a white scientist's robes. He wore a holo-len covering one eye, an earpiece, a mouthpiece, and an antenna extending from the earpiece.

The leader began to describe his vision for the city and the nation that it was a part of. The crowd grew into a silent rapture, as they drank in the visionary leader's words.

As the leader was nearing the end of his speech, the newsman suddenly clicked a button on his holoview camera. A click and beep could be heard, and the newsman made a slight smirk. Other newspeople thought it was the holovid camera inserting a new roll of holo-disk.

The holovid camera whirred, and clicked once again. The newsman clicked another button, that wasn't the usual feature of the standard HV-87 news vid camera.

An infestimal moment seemed to last for eternity from the unseen viewer, and then a zipping sound could be heard. Suddenly the leader on the platform kneeled over, blood spreading from his torso, and all chaos erupted.

Two guards ran towards the unseen viewer, and the crowd began roaring and screaming. The news and celebrity people were yelling and shouting at each other, and the assassin newsman shouted a simple, yet towards the people, an infinitely aggravating sentence,

"In the name of God! We Believers shall truimph!"

He took another shot, but this time, it was aimed towards the unseen viewer. The guard in front of the viewer took the shot, and the assassin was clobbered by nearby newspeople.

The viewer quickly ran to the leader lying haphazardly on the floor. The leader tried to speak something to the viewer.

"Keep our vision alive."

The viewer yelled in his baritone voice.

"Father, don't you dare die on me! What will I do?!"

The dying leader said his final word,

"S..o....n..."

Abruptly the view snapped into blackness, and nearly 300 years in the future and trillions upon trillions of kilometers from the event, the viewer woke up and sat up quickly, screaming one word.

FATHER!!!!!!!

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

He slowly regained his senses and hastily looked around. He found himself in an advanced looking room with several displays, and the ancient Hippocrates symbol emblazoned on a door. He took note of a Omega symbol on a display nearby. Suddenly the door opened, and a female medical officer with the ranking insignia of Chief Medical Officer ran into the secure med-room.

Academician Randius Zakarov looked at the CMO with bewilderment and a little fear. "Wha? Where? Isn't this place inside the Research Hospital in University Base?"

The CMO looked at Randius right in the eye, and informed him, "No, we are on the UCSS Chronopolis."

"What? UCSS Chronopolis? I know of no such ship or thing. I know I'm in University Base- Wait! My father! He was assassinated!"

The CMO paled slightly, and carefully explained to Randius, "We're not on Chiron now. We are several light years from Spira."

"Chiron? Spira? This is University Base on Planet. Today's date is October 31, 2407 and I witnessed my own father's assasination!" Randius's voice was rising, growing more agitated.

The CMO stammered, "Sir, you're gravely mistaken. The year is 2701. Your father has been dead for almost three centuries."

Randius sputtered, "2701? What the hell?"

The CMO pointed at a nearby display, which clearly stated 5.22.2701, identifying the date as May 22nd, 2701.

It was Randius's turn to pale. "But I saw, experienced, wha... this can't be..." He trailed off, as the implications sunk in. He finally snapped to his senses, and yelled again, "Bloody hell! I remember now... Prometheus, airlock... Wait a minute. It can't be May! It was Janurary 7th when I visited Prometheus!"

The CMO finally relaxed a bit, realizing Randius was snapping back to reality, the reality of the nightmare finally passing.

"Sir, we succeeded in extracting you from Prometheus after the terrorist attack, and you were unconscious. You were lucky to be alive, thanks to the airlock's quad durability systems. If it was any other airlock, you'd have suffered much worse. We attempted to revive you, but discovered you entered a coma. Your body kept functioning but your brain kept running loops in its higher functions, especially the memory and subconscious areas. We had no idea or expectations of exactly when you'll exit your coma, despite our advanced medical technologies."

Randius sat silently, and a thousand questions ran into his mind.

Terrorists? Who? When? Coma? What is this CMO talking about? Why am I in my flagship? This is insane!

He then responded, "Whoa, whoa, slow down... You're telling me some kind of terrorists attacked the Prometheus as I was exiting it? And that I was in a coma for almost five months? And that I was brought here for security reasons?"

The CMO nodded, her striking green eyes with black swirls for pupils showing signs of sympathy.

"Whats your name, CMO?"

"Rikku. I have been assigned to be your personal physician for the time being."

"I apologize, Rikku, for yelling at you. I'm completely and utterly lost, please forgive me."

Rikku sympathetically nodded, "Understandable. However, a lot has happened lately, the terrorists, the Morgan - Terran war, Hive comminques, you get the picture."

Randius sighed and managed a weak smile, "Thanks Rikku. May I be excused from the medical facility so that I can, uh, catch up on five months of events?"

I got a lot of work ahead of me.

"Other than your elevated adrenaline levels, as well as slight pyschologic shock from waking up from a five month coma, you're pretty much well off. You can leave anytime, and I'll do a follow up later on."

"Thanks." Randius gingerly got off the bed and took a few tentative steps, but nearly collapsed.

My God, I've forgotten how to walk.

"Uh, Rikku, could you help me to my quarters? My legs are, well, kinda not cooperating." Randius's face reddened slightly, but was reassured by Rikku's smile.

The two made their way to Randius's quarters, and Rikku infomed Randius that she would return for a check up later in the day or the next day. Randius spent the next several hours catching up with five months worth of events, information, and comminques. However, when he read one simple word that the terrorists called themselves, his face darkened with contempt.

Yevan.

I have a lot of work, indeed.

[History Guy]

Skies Above Samnos (Battlezone Flame)

The M.G.S. Spitfire squeaked audibly as she turned to avoid a rather large chunk of metal plating, obviously part of a wrecked Spartan ship. Had the piece not have been so huge (it was, indeed, three times the size of the little Morganite vessel) the ship would have grabbed hold of it and towed it back to Space Station Omega, and collected a nice sum for it. As usual, the Spitfire wasn’t simply looking for wrecked ships; it was looking for wrecked ships that could be recycled. Captain Milo S. Clancy turned his chubby little head to look out a porthole on the small ship’s “bridge”, and raised a beefy little finger to point at something far in the distance.

“Oooh, Meroz, there’s a burned out orbital platform!”

“Clancy,” said Meroz, slowly taking a puff at one of his cheap cigs’ with his thin reptilian lips, “We can’t haul a bloody platform back to the station. The thing is huge. We’d grab hold of it, and it’d roll over us. The Terrans would go about and find a squashed trash ship floating around in the sky…”

“I didn’t intend to take it to bring back to port, Meroz, you dunderhead, I was merely pointing it out as a matter of interest. I’m not sure if too many Cepheleens get to see these sorts of things…anyway…this isn’t a trash ship!” Clancy always got a little ticked when anybody dared to call his beautiful (yet incredibly junky) fighter a trash ship.

“Well, it is a recycled trash ship, you know,” said Meroz, “No need to get on the defensive…” Meroz was, actually, right. The small fighter had been built in a moon-based dockyard to collect interstellar garbage, and after the Black Shadow scares four years earlier, the ship had been seized by an overzealous governor and was plated and armed. It was still an adequate garbage barge, however. When the bounty on Hive and Terran ships was issued, Clancy commanded one of the best vessels to go get them. Any enemy ship was requested, destroyed, or intact. However, the most credits came out of a catch. Clancy’s tactic was to go out in the Battlezones after the action and to search the areas for wounded enemy ships. Even chunks of ships could be brought in for material for construction of Morganite vessels. From these bounty catches, Clancy had a fistful of Morgan dollars, and now he was looking for a few dollars more.

“You know, my uncle, Xi’dach, had a large farm outside Ti C’jaio, where he used to grow seed fruits. He had a very large farm, indeed, hilly area. He used to sit outside underneath the seed fruit trees and write poetry, the old bugger,” Meroz began, happily reminiscing, “I remember one of them…quite racy by most Human values…it started like this: ‘There was a…'”

“Hey! Look!” cried Clancy, glancing out into the darkness of space, “there’s a nice looking thing. A whole Hiverian fighter. Dead in the water. Must have been disabled during the final attack, eh? There are seemingly no Terrans around, so let’s crawl over…”

With these words (and a swig from his beer can), Clancy piloted his ship towards what he took to be a dead enemy vessel. As he closed in, Meroz gave him a look of disgust, “Clancy, you imbecile, that’s one of our ships!”

“By thunder, you are on the button, fluke head,” responded Clancy in a rather embarrassed tone.

“Hmmm…but there’s a Terran ship beside it…” said Meroz, taking another smoke.

“Meroz, why in heaven’s name do you smoke those? They’re cheap, they’re bad, and they make this ship stuffier…and smellier…than usual.”

“Nothing is smellier than this ship,” responded Meroz.

Clancy let it go, and popped open another can of beer. “Why do you drink those?” asked Meroz, sarcastically, “They’re cheap, they’re bad, and they make your piloting unsteady…” Clancy was just about to tell Meroz to can it when a hail suddenly popped in from far off in the distance. “It’s the bloody Terran ship…and it’s moving at us!” Before their astonished eyes, the Terran ship detached from the side of the wounded Morganite fighter, and swung round to face the approaching Morganite converted garbage warship.

A crummy looking holo-pic shot up in front of the seated Morganite pilots. The hazy, wavy picture showed a tall, plain-looking Terran officer. He had red-hair, gray-eyes (they might have been gray…then again, the frequency was so bad that they could have been any color), a longish proboscis, and small ears. As he appeared, slight clicking sounds could immediately be heard. Clancy looked at his hand, towards at the source of the noises. “Dice. A pair. Red body with white spots. Transparent. Looks like this Terran rolls them around in his hand,” he noted aloud.

“I,” said the Terran officer, “am Commander Dyson of Battlesquadron Wolfpack. You are encroaching on newly won Terran territory. We are commencing a salvage operation on this captured Morgan vessel. Identify yourself at once.” Dyson’s voice was cold and metallic.

“Errr…ummmm…”

“This is just a garbage ship! Look to our nose, there is a scoop, you see?” called Meroz, exitedly.

Commander Dyson considered this for a second, and looked closer in at the people shining in through the holo-pic. Looking at Meroz, he flatly stated, “You are bloody ugly…Where on earth do you hail from?”

“We are workers for the Morganite colony Naxos. We are a civilian worker’s ship…don’t open fire!” cried Clancy.

“Morganite, eh? Surrender at once!”

“We bare you no malice…we are no danger…just, errr…let us get out of here and we shan’t bother you again…” Clancy sweated. It was a good thing that the shipguns weren’t up or the Terrans would know what all this was about.

“I don’t believe I should…”

Meroz angrily blurted, “Doesn’t your government say that it takes no civilian targets in war? Eh? A garbage ship is, I am sure, considered a civilian target.”

Commander Dyson considered this again. “Alright. Get out of here. Don’t bother us again.”

Clancy wiped his brow with his greasy little sleeve. “Great…thanks…” The ship turned around…and headed straight for the nearest spacedock.

Once the Terrans were far in the distance, Meroz leaned over and asked, “Why are we heading for Spacedock 989? That’s not our home base!”

“Because it’s closer than Space Station Omega…that’s why…”

“Right. OK. Gotcha,” responded Meroz, taking another puff, and coughing after that. “Erm, aren’t those Pirates riding around the area?”

“Yep. But…they are working for Morgan.”

“Still don’t trust ‘em.”

“Yes, but at least they aren’t as bad as…the spaceway tolldock at the perimeter…”

“The tolldock? Blast! That’s spaceway robbery!”

“I know, but it contributes to a worthy cause…Morgan’s wallet…”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

ENCRYPTED DIPLOMATIC MESSAGE
FROM: Morgan Interstellar Foreign Office
TO: General Marcus Kessel

Firstly, the CEO wishes to offer his regrets for not being able to record this message himself, but after recording a message to the Hive (which is forwarded below) he had to depart for Castor C. We wish to thank you for your gift of the Hiverian commlink. We must tell you that the very day you sent it, a copy of the same was received from a faction that we have come across in Beta Hydri, known as the Protectorate of Man. Below is all of the gathered information on this group. We hope you find it enlightening and helpful.

Thank you,
Cornelius Walker
Foreign Secretary
----------------
WHERE DO YOU WANT YOUR NODE TODAY?

ENCRYPTED VISUAL MESSAGE
FROM: Morgan Interstellar Foreign Office
TO: Lord Protector Ian McDiarmid

Firstly, the CEO wishes to offer his regrets for not being able to record this message himself, but after recording a message to the Hive (which is forwarded below) he had to depart for Castor C. We wish to thank you for your gift of the Hiverian commlink. We also wish to inform you that the very day it arrived, a copy of the same was received from our allies the Spartans. Below is the commlink for the Spartan Federation.

Thank you,
Cornelius Walker
Foreign Secretary
-----------------
WHERE DO YOU WANT YOUR NODE TODAY

TRI-ENCRYPTED VISUAL MESSAGE
FROM: CEO Nwabudike Morgan
TO: ‘Emperor’ Sheng-ji Yang of the Greater Hive Empire

Greetings.

I understand that you now style yourself Emperor Sheng-ji Yang of the Greater Hive Empire, and that you have indeed created a flourishing kingdom in this unforgiving universe. Tales of your exploits have lately reached my ears. As you may know, I still style myself CEO Morgan and Morgan Industries has become Morgan Interstellar, which is something of an empire in its own right. I received your commlink only days ago. How I received it matters not.

Frankly, I am distressed that you assist the rogue Terran Alliance in their wrongheaded attack on Morgan and Spartan territory. I trust that, as it seems your attack has ended, you will end all aggression towards Morgan Interstellar. We may well be a small military power, but as you have seen we can hold up against heavy numbers. Though Samnos has, regrettably, fallen, many of our enemies fell with it. I trust that you shall not remain my enemy for long.

I ask for nothing from you but that you cease military aggression towards Morgan Interstellar. Perhaps a friendship can be built from this, perhaps not, but I do ask you to please cease your assaults on our holdings, as they are totally pointless. Perhaps we were rivals on Chiron, but I have done nothing to you worthy of such a violent and unprecedented assault. I trust that you shall view this message and respond accordingly in a manner befitting the wise leader that I trust you are.

Morgan
-----------
WHERE DO YOU WANT YOUR NODE TODAY?

Blind Carbon Copies sent to Spartan Federation and Protectorate of Man
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[Silence]

Victory at Lab 3
Flagship of the 7th Fleet
LV 120

Vice Admiral Joyce Harper was not an happy lady. Half of her fleet right now was clustered around the battered dreadnought that served as her flagship, while the other half of the fleet was engaged in 5 separate battles across the system. The Hammer of God had sent a large offensive force that blew away past the number of ships that Naval Intelligence figured they could even make in 4 years. This was a major offensive and for the men and women of the 7th fleet it was like fighting a wildfire. Both sides had long combat experience with each other and with the varying move and counter move the battle was taking weeks to fight with minimal bloodshed on both sides. The minning station had ceased to be an objective of the two sides as ships escaped the facility from both sides then risk fighting in it more. Admiral Hummel was taken of the station kicking and screaming by a force of marines ordered by Joyce, who smirked at the thought.

“Admiral, scanners are detecting another Hammer of God force coming into sensor range. It appears to be a heavy taskforce with some carrier support.” an scanner officer said to Joyce, she looked at the screen that was displaying the estimate ship sizes and looked at the screen that was showing her rapidly depleting reserves.

“Dispatch Task Force 43, send the 95th escort carrier squadron with also for added support, tell Admiral Prescot that I want results and I need those ships to help Admiral Robin’s group as soon as he can get to her.” Joyce said, the com officer rapidly sent the change of orders to Prescot and went back to relaying information to the sensors officer and captain.


New Israel
Island of Samson
Speaker’s Palace

The Speaker of the Conclave of the Lord’s Believers was a short man, with an impressive Old Testament prophet with intense blue eyes, in other words Brother Keenes looked and acted like the leader of the largest Theocracy in the galaxy. Keenes normally wore his offical priestly robes when at greeting people in the Office of the Speaker, but, today he was meeting with an unfortunately too rare type of visitor these days, a friend. Marshal of the Heavenly Host, and head of the military arm of the Conclave and the second most important person in the Believers, Dexeter Mathews sat across from his friend and superior, however today’s visit was not one for light chit-chat but of far more serious business. The business of the expanding crisis that was the Believer’s foreign relations and the never-ending war with the Hammer of God.

“So, Dexeter, what major screw up has occurred now to bring a visit to my office instead of one your aides?” Martin asked seriously, the Marshall was a very important man and was in the center of all things when it came to military planning and operations.

“Martin, I got news of a another fleet coming into the LV 120 system, Harper is considering a strategic retreat. Right now half her forces are spread across the system, while the other half are being slowly dwindled down with each new threat. Bloody HoG’s
are diluting our combat forces of the 7th.”

“What is the status of the other fleets, can’t they help?” Martin asked, he was in the thick of fighting with the Conclave over the proposed expansion of the Levi star system that he lost track of where the military was at any given moment.

“1st Fleet is here defending New Israel, Second Fleet is defending New Eden, 3d fleet is defending the other mining station, the 4th, 5th, and 6th fleets are operating under
Soldiers of God flag, the 7th in engage in combat, 8th fleet is on patrol near the Terran Alliance projected invasion pathway if they do send a fleet at us, 9th fleet is down for repairs and resupply at New Eden, 10th fleet is a possible, but its scattered across border looking for the damned Hammer of God base, 11th fleet is on its way but it be at least another 5 days to get there, 12th is preparing to help the Morgans and supplement losses that the SoG’s took, and the 13th fleet is a fleet on paper for the time being.”

“So the 11th fleet is the only chance that Harper has?” asked Martin

“Yes, and it was doing survey work on Levi when it got the call, it had a minor scuffle with some local pirates that were using the system as a base, but other then that it hasn’t seen combat in over 5 years. 11th is the fleet that I used to slowly retire our combat admirals once they get over the hill. Admiral Rodgers is a good man, but he’s old sir, was second born Chiron generation.” Dexeter said, Martin let out a whistle, a Chiron born person was rare these days due the conditions that the Believers had found themselves in. With hardly enough food and supplies to feed the people, Sister Miriam during her reign had to make the hard choice of letting people take only rudimentary gene bath treatments, and the longevity that many of the more richer factions had taken for granted was simply non existent for most of the populace.

“Well then, tell Admiral Joyce not to move one step back because if she does fold and run, I will see to it that she is court-marshaled and executed for cowardice,” Martin said simply.

Dexeter looked at Martin incredulously and asked, “Are you sure, you want that said, that is what Demover always used to threaten us with.”

“Demover’s dead by your hands, and I am in control despite what some foolish rural priest from New Eden thinks, we have to fight a war, and I will not tolerate defeat. I haven’t before and I won’t now.” Martin said loudly slamming his fist on the wooden desk.
Silence descend in the room as the Marshall looked at his old friend and wonder if the strains of command had gotten to him. After all the office that he held had caused at least 5 men to commit suicide and 3 other including Sister Miriam to be overthrown, Dexeter notice that the walls had changed, they were no longer the simply white walls with a simple cross on it that decorated the walls of the building when he first took office, but larger paintings of the battles of the Bible and some of the battles between the Lord Believers and the other Chiron factions.

Dexeter cleared his throat and said, “Well I must be going, there are several piles of paperwork at the office that are calling my name.”

Martin turned and focused his eyes at him and said, “It was a pleasure Dexeter of all my friends you have never failed me, do remember to send the message to Harper and do come and see me again. In that jungle that is the Conclave I have very few friends left there now, they are turning their backs on me, but they know that I have the support of the Heavenly Host and they will do nothing to get rid of me.”


City of Mosses
Northern Province
New Israel
Office of Ben Halsy

Ben Halsy spent several years of his life trying to undermined Martin Keenes, not for any personal grudge that he had against the man, but the man politics and simple minded domestic policy left the business of New Israel and New Eden against the mighty
monopolies of Morgan Interstellar and that was creating problems. The fact that the Speaker had rammed through provision after provision of militarizing the economy to
fight the Hammer of God left a distaste in Ben’s mouth, but the fact that he was allowing Morgan to pay for his new military and thus making the Lord’s Believers a client state of Morgan was something different and needed to be stooped. Oh, Ben said to his friends that he knew that Morgan was a good ally, but there was a difference between ally and master and that Martin Keenes in his desire to have the best military on the block was
forgetting that. Not content to let the sluggish economy grow enough to warrant an entire new fleet of ships and the supplies to run and shipyards to repair and rebuild ships that were already lost over time, he decided to whore the Heavenly Host to the Morganites like they were pirate scum that could be bought and sold at a whim. Now with the latest offensive the Hammer of God was throwing that decision was coming up and biting
Keenes in the rear. No Ben Halsy’s policy was to revamp how some of the military was controlling the economy and used the new economy to build more stuff while having more freedom, it was a risk but it was a risk that could be taken and it would probably at the worst be at the same military production level that was currently at now.

Ben sat in office room with several other Members of Conclave and said to them, “Keenes screwed up, he and the Navy thought that Hammer of God was on the run, so he sent 1/4 of our forces to go act as Morgan’s errand boys, and now LV 120 is paying for his mistake, from what I read from my naval informants we be lucky to have the 7th fleet return at all and the 11th fleet is going to get mauled badly, and now I am hearing that SoG forces are splitting up their fleet and sending them all across to Morgan’s systems that are under attack and may be under attack and putting themselves at the local forces disposal. If we had those forces here we could finally smash the Hammer of God once
and for all instead of knocking them back and searching for them through every God forsaken system 900 light years around from us.”

“What are you suggesting we do then Ben?”

“I propose that next time that Conclave comes to meet and discuss theological matters, that one of you will bring up the subject of this and force the issues of Keenes being office
to a vote and displace him with one of our number.” Ben said, Keenes as Speaker of the Conclave was an lifelong postion elected by the people, but the Conclave which was the legislative body made up priests from across the 2 planets could remove and put a temporary Speaker until run off election could be held. What Ben was proposing suggested two things to the men in the room, that Ben Halsy thought that they could get enough Conclave votes to do this and that the people across New Israel and Eden would vote for an Opposition leader for once in the history. The various men in the room where all men that had for various reasons wanted to see the current man in office out, and they smiled evilly at each other as they realized that they could be running the government. Ben Halsy smiled as he read the other’s faces and thought of how he was going to decorate the Speaker’s Palace once the election was over.......

[Lonestar]

Black Sands Proving Ground
Beta Hydri 4

With a loud clang! the Cyber lurched forward, opening up on the platoon of Star Marines. Ian kept an eye on the computer read out. So far in the demonstration, the Cyber had "killed" 4 companies of Star Marines Riflemen. General McCarty had growled something about "unfair terrain", and he was most likely right. Black Sands had a desolate, Mars-look to it. Not much to hide at.


Two Nebula Atmospheric gunships flew down, strafing the Cyber. The Monstorous robot, codenamed "Hyperion" flailed about as it took dozens of simulated hits. Ian leaned forward towards Alchemax President Tyler Stone.

"Alright Stone, that's enough. Let's go back into the conference room."
---------------------

Twenty Minutes later, Ian, several Alchemax representitives, Dr. Pym, and a handful of folks from the War Ministry were sitting in the Conference room in the Headquarters building. Ian spoke first.

"President Stone...how much will these Cybers cost?"

Stone cleared his throat. "Well, M'Lord, you have to realise that our understanding of Quantum Computers has made astonishing strides in just the past 10 years just to allow a complex AI to be put in such a small mainframe..."

"How. Much."

Stone gritted his teeth.

"50 Million Solaris. Each."

There was a deep gasp around the table. Ian spoke again.

"Mister Stone, considering that that particular Cyber out there had no dedicated air defenses, you expect us to pay that much money for such a...creature?"

"Sire, there is only a finite amount of wepons we can fit into a Cyber frame. We..."

"I'm not criticzing that particular model. Obviously, we'll need more...specialized varieties. But, as we'll need many, many of these Cybers to begin to match the Chironians in size military-wise, how do you expect us to pay for all of them?"

Stone was stunned. The Mjollner MBT's were 30 million solaris each, he hadn't expectthe governm,ent to throw such a hissy fit. Just How many was the Protectorate planning on acquiring?

Ian spoke again. "Tell you what, Mr. Stone, I'll give you another 6-9 months to show me multiple models ready for assembly at under 50 million solaris each. We'll talk amount we're planing on purchasing then. Dismissed, all of you."

Most of the group stood up and shuffled out of the room. War Minister Kolasklar and Dr. Pym stayed.

Kolasklar's drawl stretched out his words. "Any response yet from our illustrious comrades in the GHE?"

"No, Nishant, none at all. I wonder if they even know something's wrong, the buoy we left behind hasn't detected any ships investigating the system." Ian shrugged. He knew Yang was going to go absolutely Apesh!t when he found out. "I didn't expect him to stop interfering with Morgan anyway."

"Ah, yes, Morgan Industries." That was Dr. Pym. In the 630 years that Ian had known him, he had seemed to get only more computer like as time went on. It was unnerving. " Hmm-ha, has CEO Morgan accepted CHOAM's offer of Executive Directorship?"

"Yes he has, Doctor. Should be interesting to see what happens next. I predict Morgan's Trade Mission will go well."

"Perhaps we'll be able to get some of that Organic Tech the Chironians and Saturnians have been working on.." Kolasklar mused.

"Bah! Organics?" Pym spat. " Minister, you've stumbled into a common fallacy. Using organic technology is NOT indicative of a advanced race. How many Progenitor vessels are Organic? None."

"But, if they are self-healing..."

"So? Our Nano hulls do the same. Even our old 'smart-materials' hulls did, to a degree. In fact, nanites are far superior to 'organic' claptrap in healing hulls/computers/what have you."

Ian hid a smile. He could always count on Pym to cut through the garbage. "Speaking of advanced technology Dr. Pym..."

"Oh yes, the Cybers." Pym made a face. "Stone and Morgan are perfect for each other. Our understanding of Quantum computing has exploded within the past 10 years, thanks to the Dosi. Alchemax has the know-how to build Cybers at a far lower cost than what he's saying. It might even be cheaper to just have our National Lab system assemble Cybers. Multiple varients. Already, we have construction Cybers, Medical Cybers, Industrial Cybers...should War-Cybers be so much more expensive? No."

"I thought Stone was trying to pull one over me." Ian said. "Perhaps you should go ahead and begin looking into that..."

Pym looked proud of himself. "I already have a War-Cyber Design, the Minotaur. Anti-armor orientated. I can order one to be assembled within the next week."

Kolasklar looked astonished. "You can go from design tofinished product in less than a week?"

"Finished product? No, more like Concept Model. As I said, we've had the know-how to constrcut these things for years now. No longer are our computer processors limited, now that we can access all 32 Quantum States of the electron." Pym gave a thin smile. "Quantum computing, along with our...'Virtual Unreality' project, may allow us to create our own controlled singularity soon."

Ian was quiet. He knew the implications of a controlled singularity. A whole new field of weapons. A unlimited power source. And, most signifigantly, a FTL drive that would make the Protectorate's Matter/Anti-matter drives look like a snails pace in comparisin.

Pym looked at Ian. "M'Lord...Ian...critics will go absolutely insane when they discover our plan to triple to Military using AI. But, it is the only way we can match the other Human factions in strength."

Ian stared at Pym, but saw Yang's smiling visage instead. Yes..when we have the strength to do so, I'll teach you a lesson Emperor. I'll bring nightmares to you, personally. You will find...there are far worse things than death.

[Sovereign]

6 LY from Spira
UCS Flagship, the UCSS Chronopolis
The Primary Command Center

Academician Randius Zakharov was speechless.

Utterly.

A voice interrupted the Academician's shocked silence.

"Research Entity KAIN IX reporting. The information scrolling across your screen show how far we've progressed in the fields of AI design and energy research. We have been researching two techinques concerning light itself.

We succeeded in splitting light itself, to provide twenty-fold computer memory and speeds. Also this releases tremendous energy, which I calculate as a 99.93% probablity of having the ability to be harnessed.

In addition, we also succeeded in storing light. The implications of this surpass my earlier projections. Uses could range from new forms of data storage, to light batteries, which uses the light splitting to split the stored light for energy.

Research is being undertaken on this new concept, called Quantum Mechanics, as well as Quantum Power."


The Academician pondered the possiblities. Several ideas popped into his head, and he summoned GOLAN XVIII, the Tatical AI entity, to the meeting.

The Academician started, "GOLAN, I summoned you since I would appreciate your input on the Quantum theories that KAIN proposed. I would like to know if it will be feasible to research military purposes for this technology, especially that we need an edge over the hostile faction known as the Protectorate."

GOLAN responded, "The Darwin-class explorer the Magellan's encounter with the Protectorate hostile, as well as sensory scans of the battleship the Cold Harbor by the UCSS Enterprise reveal the Protectorate's technological potential.

Protectorate has particle cannons, a working version of plasma shard technology, nanotech hulls capable of self-repair, and cloaking not too dissimiliar to ours.

In a war of attrition, if the Protectorate invaded, it would appear to be slightly in favor of the Protectorate, give or take several percentage points, from 55.883% to 63.117%."


Academician Randius paled and exclaimed, "But, you're saying that our thousands of orbital platforms, six kilometer long carriers, neutronium hulls, tachyon weaponary, AI entities, and robotic units wouldn't stop the Protectorate?!"


GOLAN asserted, "There's a 96.352% probablity that the Protectorate will sustain heavy losses, and achieve a Pyhrric victory. However, their nanotech hulls can auto-repair our Xaos missile damage in a substantial period of time, while other factions cannot repair the damage unless they return to space docks or ship yards. Field repairs are possible, but damage can be too extreme to field repair effectively. On the other hand, Protectorate ship structures are made out of nano-lath, which self-repairs itself.

This is the primary reason, calculated to a 94.073% certainty, that our forces will likely fall to Protectorate, if they invaded.

However, our robotic units easily outfight human infantry, and in addition, our ships are bigger than theirs. We also have the most extensive industrial capabilities comapred to the known factions with the exception of no knowledge of Protectorate and Greater Hive Empire infrastructure. These three things will be our only advatanges aganist the Protectorate. If we fully utilize our advatanges, we might have a 44.117% to 36.883% probablity of stopping the Protectrate invasion. It all comes down to tactics."


Randius pondered this for a moment. He knew it would be unlikely that the Protectorate would travel over fifty light years to invade University territory. In addition, the growing relations with the Greater Hive Empire, along with their aid, would possibly be enough to contain an Protectorate invasion. However, there were too many uncertains. He knew he needed weaponary to negate the healing effects of Nano-tech hulls, to negate the Protectorate's main advatange.

I'll never be caught off guard. Not again. Not after my father's assassination so long ago, and the Yevan attack on the Prometheus that cast me into a five month coma. Besides the 37% to 44% chance isn't good enough. I need at least 90% or better!


The Academician then began to throw around ideas for applications for the newly emerging experimental Quantum technology. He has the same energy, skills, ingeunity, and vigor as his late father, in matters of research and science.

"Lets see. Storing light and then splitting it. Hmm... That would be perfect for torpedoes and bombs. Sending a orb or container with contained light, then release the 'light splitter' upon impact, and the resultant explosion would cause great damage to any material. The energy potential is far greater than fusion bombs, and antimatter bombs as well. I am not certain if splitting light would also split the material, need research on that.

Hmm! This same concept could be applied to FTL reactors. Splitting light in a controlled enviroment for an infinite period of time for a constant energy flow. Light is the fastest real-space particle, can be artifically and naturally generated, is produced in an infinite supply, exists all around us in the dark void of space, and a perpetual power generator is possible.

A light bulb requires almost no power to generate, while antimatter takes terawatts to generate. Therefore, a measly light bulb theoretically could be a power generator providing terawatts of power, for an infinite period of time, that is, if the light bulb keeps emitting light and is constantly maintained. With the 'Light Splitter' installed, a single light bulb or light sphere could theoretically power entire cities. Antimatter reactors would become obsolete, since antimatter is a extremely destructive material that is very volatile, and is expensive, energy-wise, to produce.

Wait a minute, FTL uses quantum tunneling, so I wonder if it'd be possible if FTL speeds would be increased, or decreased due to reasonace between the theoretical quantum reactor and the quantum tunneling itself?

Quantum lasers. Yeah, its possible... If we split light itself, that means we could split light directly on the target, creating an energetic explosion right at the target. Yeah, thats feasible. However, quantum lasers wouldn't be possible in FTL transit, since we are traveling quicker than light. Hmm... If we were in front and fired at the enemy behind us... possible. Again, not sure if there are added side-effects to splitting light.

Wait a minute, I can see it now! Imagine splitting a log with an axe at the speed of light. Yeah, that'd be devasating. Splitting ships open like logs with a light-speed axe. Hrmm, thats a very good theoretical situation of quantum lasers. Doubt nano-lath can repair that damage. Since when does logs crawl back together and sew up its two cleaved parts together? Perhaps super-advanced nanolath, which Protectorate probably doesn't have.

Hmm... quantum disks. Could be used to store memory and data, and be inaccessible to other factions. Would be useful for espionage, since only us know how to reassemble light or retrieve light. Also, computers and AI can be greatly enhanced by almost infinite memory.

Our robotic units could become even more verstaile with more complex AI, and lighter mass for lighter quantum computers. No wait, we already have quantum computers based on FTL concepts. Well, the memory would be expanded, so no need for bulky computer cores. Yeah, our AI robotics would be lighter, and perhaps possible to add neutronium armor on? Yeah, possible.

I wonder if the ancient star-gates use an advanced form of quantum tunneling for instanteous travel across dozens of light years in an instant. Hmm... perhaps we could harness that, and develop our star gate system... Definitely not any time now, but possibly in the future.

Wait, doesn't quantum tunneling amount to short wormholes? Hmm.. star gates are advanced artifical wormholes, I suppose.

Oh yeah! What about this... "

Academician Randius Zakharov continued throwing around ideas for a couple more hours. The two AI entities, KAIN and GOLAN, assisted with several details, and then the trio began discussing on long term research and implementation of quantum technologies for military, civil, and exploration.

**************************************************
The next day

Randius was tired from the energetic research meeting the previous day. He heard a knock on the door, but he was exhausted. He decided to ignore it, but he forced himself to think.

Its probably that Rikku doctor coming to check me out.

He sighed, and slowly got out of bed and dressed. He gingerly walked to the door, especially after re-learning how to walk after a five month coma.

He finally reached the door, and initated the "unlock" sequence, and the young female Al-Bhed doctor was standing there with a slightly exparasted look on her face.

"I apologize, Rikku. I was sleeping when you came knocking on my door. I'm pretty much fatigued from an intensive day yesterday. Remember, I woke up a few days from the coma, and it has been hell for me to attempt to catch up on five months worth of information.

Are you here for that check-up?"

Rikku nodded.

"I understand, I just need to be sure you're healthy."

Randius gave Rikku a warm smile, despite his fatigue, and had Rikku come in his quarters. Rikku proceeded to do several tests related to coordination, memory, and physical fitness. She then used her medical sensor to scan Randius for any form of poisoning, internal organs status, and any new developments not visible to the eye.

She gave an approving nod, "You're in the clear. No permament damage or afflictions. You're as fit as a Ronso."

Randius made a slight chuckle at that, since the Ronso are well known for their constant fitness, combat skills, code of honor, and fierce will that rivals even the Spartans.

Rikku informed Randius, "I shall be leaving, since my duty is already peformed. You are in perfect health, considering the circumstances. Although I was kind of surprised when you collapesed the first day. It was awkward, but I don't know.." She trailed off, while her face reddened slightly at losing the professionalism of a doctor.

Randius comforted her, "You did the best you could, and I appreciate it. I couldn't have asked for a better personal physcician."

Rikku gave a nod and a bow, and then left. Randius walked back to his computer terminal, to take care of several issues, including some new ideas and projections of quantum technology, as well as a message to Mina, his personal assistant.

[Mr. President]

Alpha Lab, Caledon, Vega Prime

"What does this look like to you?" asked Gary.

Derek Sorensen stared intensely at the three-dimensional hologram, a cluster of white dots on a black background. "It looks," he said very seriously, "like a bunch of white dots on a black background."

The Thinker laughed. "That's because it is," he said. Bringing himself under control somewhat, he continued, "The Temple downloaded a whole bunch of data to us on Sunday, about half pictures, half text. Marion's almost finished with the text, by the way. Anyway, the last thing we got was this. We didn't know what to make of it, at first. Marion thought it was more writing. Aron thought it was a picture, like from a scanning electron microscope or something.

"Then," Gary drew breath, "your friend Young Derek ran in. Apparently he had a brainwave while helping his son with some math homework."

Sorensen raised his eyebrows. "This sounds interesting."

"It sure is." The Thinker pressed two keys, creating a three-dimensional dialog box. "Do you remember doing matrix transformations at college?"

"Vaguely," Sorensen mused. "You think that's an alien matrix?"

"Not exactly," Gary replied. "Suppose I take the runes from the Star Room," (he typed a fast sequence of numbers) "and make them into a three-dimensional matrix like so, making sure to match them with the stuff the sentience told me the last time I was online," (the matrix appeared to one side of the hologram) "Now, if I multiply that by the matrix representing the x, y, and z co-ordinates of the white dots," (the second matrix appeared, set up for right multiplication by the first) "we get something quite interesting."

A new picture appeared, and Gary scaled it to fill the entire hologram space. "More dots," said Sorensen. "So what?"

"What do you notice about the dots?" the Thinker asked.

The older scientist studied the graphic for several moments. "There's only one that touches the edge of the image," he mused. "The ones here are very close to it. Those are much further away.

"In fact," his voice quietened, "if you take that one to be the center, then you could almost imagine that all the others are placed radially from it . . .

Sorensen looked at Gary, eyes widening. "Just like a star map."

The Thinker nodded. Sorensen went on, "But what star is the center?"

"That's what we don't know." Gary typed some more, dismissing the minimized original image. "We could find it by trial and error, using our starmaps to check the view from every known star, and seeing if there was one that matched."

"Can we ask the Temple?"

"It barely understands us," Gary replied, "and we barely understand it. It's only the most rudimentary communication. One word at a time through my interface, or transmitting pictures and ideograms. Of course that would be ideal, but we'd need MMI like I've never even dreamed of."

"How long would the starmap thing take?"

"Long time," Gary shook his head. "We'll need a few more Thinkers."

Sorensen was already hurrying for the door. "I'm way ahead of you, buddy." Then he was gone.

[Mellian]

Kerensky reads Kessel's reply and smiles... quite a person, try to create the aura of superiority and intimidation. Yet, there is still room for reasoning with the person. Sure he read the previous messages Kessel sent and which TA government didn't bother to reply for some reason, but this is the first directed to him. To bad he doesn't care much of messages of grandeur...as he is more into the "straight to the point" theme. Anyway, back into replying....

To: Colonel Kessel
From: Fleet Admiral Kerensky

The Terran Alliance is not interested in getting into war with the Spartan Federation, so I agree to call a cease-fire if the Morganites agrees as well. We can hammer something down at the Peace negociations afterwards.

As for the Hive, I am aware of their intereferences and espionage as I am aware that the Spartan Federation as agents within the Terran Alliance as well. The matter will be delt with, but do know that the Terran Alliance as no interest in dealing with the Hive, even thought a peticular member is being is being troublesome. Their forces in Cyclanid as been warn that they are not capture Samnos or they will be fired upon.

Now, I will wait for your reply before I send the cease-fire order.

Fleet Admiral Kerensky

******

5 hours before

To: Joe Nova
From: Fleet Admiral Kerensky

Your terms are acceptable, just the matter of having your Novans hiding in Terran Alliance space. We can arrange that the Novans will be employed by the TAF, so effectively having your clan under the Terran Alliance banner. Anyway, we can discuss this later on and suggest to get your forces moving.

Fleet Admiral Kerensky

[Lonestar]

Protectorate Ship Michael
Planet "B", Wu235 system


The Michael orbited the nameless planet, that orbited the nameless Red Giant. Unlike most Protectorate ships with Nano-hulls, instead of being a sea-green it was a dark black, with the name Michael followed by a Coptic Cross on the vessel's hull.

The battleship had been dispatched to this faraway place, over 39 ly from Beta Hydri, when a Ranging ship discovered a downed Hferhin vessel on the surface of the desolate planet. After a series of strings were pulled (among them, the dispatchment of one "Hyperion" and one "Minotaur" Cyber prototype) a expedition was sent to the planet.

On the surface, over a thousand Star Marines had secured the crash site, and begun building an encampment not far away.

Then the intruders came.

4 large vessels...the Michael's HOLMES-4 AI immediatly identified them as UCS-affliated ships, entered real space. After a very brief scan, the vessels opened fired on the Michael without preamble. Knowing it was outmatched, the Michael charged it's forward batteries of Particle Cannons to max, and fired at the lead UCS vessel.

Each Goliath Battleship has a pair of forward particle cannons, rarely used to it's full strengh of 1 million tw. This time, the Particle cannons uunleashed all they had, draining power on several decks and burning out more than a few conduits. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. At a combined total of 2 million tw (enough to burn away the surface area of a planet the size of Great Britain) the UCS vessel wouldn't have a chance. It was destroyed, and the Michael was shortly thereafter.
-----------------

Captain Alveraz looked up into the Desert night, seeing the flashes in the sky.

"Hooollllleee sshhhhiiiieetteee. What's happening up there."

Standing next to him was a 30 ft tall "Minotaur" Cyber. It runed it's electronic eye upwards.

The Michael has engaged, and been defeated by, a group of starships. I calculate to 59% certainty that the vessels were of University design.

Alveraz was stunned. He had been more than a little nervous about bringing an AI into battle whit him, but with that one statement, Minotaur had proving it's(his?) worth.

"Jesus Mary and Joseph. I need to tell the Colonel. We may be getting company."

[Kassiopeia]

After the space battle of Samnos

It was all over. At least from Supreme Commander Wakazashi's point of view.

Thirty minutes ago the surrendered Morganite ships had started drifting to the co-ordinates supplied by the Alliance Fleet Command. There, the Alliance Marines would board them and take control of the enemy fleet.

Drecaille sighed. There really was no point to this, was there? Sure, it was retribution for the debacle that took place on Capella. And for what they did on Callisto, of course. But Capella was a meager military installation. Callisto was full of InEn infrastructure, now destroyed. Besides, the InEn was now annexed to the Terran Alliance...

So, in a nutshell, the mighty Coalition Space Navy had thus far fought only for the Terran Alliance, for the Alliance's benefit and for no other cause. This was definitely having an impact on the High Admiralty, as well as other military officers. Drecaille could pick it up from their words, their behaviour, she had even discussed it briefly with Michael Wakazashi.

"The Coalition has enough military strength to bring the whole of Sol to it's knees", someone had aired in one of the more secret meetings. But they were not the words of someone craving for power; more like the words of a man of war who simply wants to fight for his people and his country, as ludicrous and crazy as it might sound.

The issue had been up numerous times, ever since the establishment of the Alliance. But now, Drecaille thought, the Coalition was not just a sprawling combine of the nations and people of Earth, barely on par with the Martians in military strength.

The Coalition was a Terran Alliance of it's own, come to think of it. Earth, the jewel in the crown of Sol, had 30 billion people living on it; and the colonies of the Coalition contained a billion or two of citizens. They could easily muster a couple of hundred millions of highly trained marines with state of the art weaponry, if they wanted to.

But they didn't. Drecaille had written a small essay on the matter when studying Interplanetary Relations in the university. Why? Trade wouldn't be a problem; there were many willing partners all over the local arm of the galaxy. Military might wasn't the dela; the Coalition could stand on it's own two feet on that field of things.

Drecaille herself had come to the conclusion that unity brought internal strength for the Coalition, and additionally, as it was a Parliamentary Democracy, such a drastic and radical action as leaving the Alliance would never be accepted in the parliament, nor by the people. The people loved the Alliance; Admiral Kerensky was a mysterious celebrity; Secretary General Stormhill a very charismatic person; and when it wasn't the powerful personas, it was the grand image a joint project of several worlds brought out.

The Alliance was the remedy for overpopulation, leading the colonization of distant worlds, and securing that all Solarians were equal regarding immigration. And, on the top of that, without the Alliance, the enigmatic Scions would remain silent in their homeworld... nobody on Earth wanted to fear them, and they had no reason to, thanks to the Alliance. Without TA, the Scions would be yet again portrayed as a danger, a threat, an erratic race that can at one time be a friend, and on the other your worst enemy. The technological secret of biometal just added to this feel of threat.

***

Somewhere in the void between Mars and Callisto

"We should fasten these belts quickly", Filkins said and started to do as told. "Pete will dock us in a couple of minutes, and it can be quite rough."

"I see", Greg said and buckled up. The pair sat on the comfortable flight chairs for a while.

"You an experienced space traveller? Aside the trips we've taken ship sighting, of course", Greg asked.

"Well, before we met, in College I think, I had a quite long journey. Me and the folks visited Chiron, you see."

"Chiron? How on earth! I thought getting there from Sol has been hell for the past century, or so, ever since the Declaration."

"And it still is, but you see, dad had one connection here, one there... and poof! There we were looking at a patch of this, what do you call it, the pink stuff that grows there. You know, the one with the worms and stuff like that."

"Xenofungus?" Greg suggested.

"That's it! It was fascinating. And the views, you should of seen it. Not from some holopics, the real thing."

Greg sighed. "I haven't travelled that much, well, like I said, ship sighting set aside -"

"Sorry for the interruption, but where *have* we visited?"

"Let's see. We met, when was it, thirteen years ago?"

"Spring of '88, methinks."

"Okay."

"I think we had the parliamentary elections then. You know, the ones where DUE prevailed."

"Yes, when Faloncé was president... back to the point. We met in the meeting of Ship Sighter of Earth. You had a rather respectable collection of the Model 2666 Battleships."

"And still do. Just the Variation 3D missing, the one with twelve torpedo launchers. The last one was pieced down three months ago, by the way."

"All right, all right."

"Wasn't that the first time you brought Mrs. Greg to an SSE meeting?"

"Yes. And the last one", Greg noted with a sly smile.

"I can still remember her running away, screaming after being told of the, what was it? Drive system aspects of a Triton fighter?"

"Or was it an Eifes-OT-DX ion reactor?"

"What's the difference", Filkins muttered, "either way, she sure didn't like it..."

"Just scared of all the jargon. But I still do keep my holo collection stashed away, and I'm very careful when discussing starship technology when in the house. All those throwable items makes it dangerous", Greg explained.

Docking complete, a soft computer voice exclaimed.

"That was smooth", Greg said in astonishment. "I didn't feel a thing -"

The entire ship shuddered in a sudden and violent manuevre.

***

(From the communications log of the corvette CNS Wendigo, patrolling inside Sol)

Open channel, this is patrol Theta Eight to Flight Monitoring Post.

This is Flight Monitoring Post. Patrol T8, state your business.

We have detected a possible prison transport ship entering docking connection with a civilian cargo hauler. Breach of code seven nine three. Requesting permission to investigate further.

*laughter*

Slow day at the flight level, huh?

Slow does not suffice. There's nothing but dust out here. I have spent the last three hours staring at a chair, and that was the climax of this mission.

*more laughter*

Go ahead, permission granted. Is that all?

That is all. T8 out.

***

"What was that?" Greg asked hurriedly, turning his head wildly around in the darkness. "I can't see a thing!" he added.

"Neither can I. The lights must of gone out", Filkins analyzed the situation.

"You sound rather calm", Greg said with suspicion in his voice.

"Did I ever mention that I have travelled with Pete on this ship before?"

Silence confirmed Filkins's doubt that he hadn't told Greg all the facts of Pete's ship. His attempt to tell of the nature of the ship and the tendency of this kind of mishaps, like electrical outages and the like, was abruptly interrupted as Pete's voice sounded from the intercom. Simultaniously, the lights returned, blinding the two for a short while, followed by a loud humming coming from the bowels of the vessel.

"Filky, grab a couple of sidearms and come to the docking floor."

"Right away", Filkins replied sharply and started to remove the safety straps.

"Sidearms", Greg repeated, he too releasing himself from the chair.

"Yes, sidearms", Filkins said and strolled down the corridor, the doors hissing and opening from his way as he made it to a smaller closet-like room.

"But", Greg said whilst following him, "I don't know how to use a gun."

"Neither do I", Filkins assured him and opened a panel inside the small room. A shelf protruded itself from the room's wall, brandishing four shredder pistols. One of them was looking brand new, with the other three worn out and clearly used. The sight of them made Greg rather nervous.

Filkins took two of the older ones and pushed the shelf back inside the gap in the wall. He looked at the pistols thoughtfully and then gave the other one to Greg.

"Are you serious? I'll kill myself, or even worse, you, if I start fooling around with one of these."

Filkins shrugged and suddenly pulled out his pistol, aiming it straight at Greg's forehead.

"What the -"

Filkins grinned and pulled the trigger.

The pistol made a quiet whirr, then a clicking sound before falling back to silence.

Greg opened his eyes and looked at the barrel of the pistol, still somewhat shocked.

"You think I'd take charged ones? Ha!" Filkins laughed. "You should of seen your impression; you were absolutely, positively terrified. Just why we will be carrying them; they look dangerous. I'ts all psychology, my friend."

"Gah", Greg blurted and looked at the gun Filkins had given to him. "Not loaded, huh?" he exclaimed and pointed the gun at a wall. He pulled the trigger - a familiar whirring followed by a loud blast as a part of the wall disintegrated to dust in a flash of light.

***

"Shows you to play around with lethal weapons", Pete smirked at the pair as they told of the incident that had lead to minor collateral damage in the room Pete called 'armoury'.

"Humph", Greg muttered.

"Anyways, Mister Myssym is on the other side. Shall we let him and his comrades in?"

"Ready when you are", Filkins said, holding the shredder pistol on his side. Greg simply nodded when Pete looked at him.

Pete walked to a panel at the side of the wall, besides a large circular pressure hatch. He punched in a series of commands. The door's pneumatic system started to hiss. The large circle emerged from the wall and rolled over to reveal a short room. In the room, stood a man. He looked very tired; his stance was slightly crooked as he stood before them.

"I come unarmed", Myssym immediately said, in a calm tone, as he spotted the brandished weapons.

"A life insurance, if you will", Pete replied, without a blink of an eye.

"Life insurances can be costly", Myssym noted and took a careful step towards the hatch.

"I won't take my chances", Pete replied and continued: "Let's cut the crap. You have something I want; your ship, or, parts of it. I have something you want, this ship, and a trip to Mars."

Myssym pondered for a while. Mars wasn't exactly the place he was headed for, but he was suddenly overtaken by a certain feeling of assuredness - Mars was a big planet, with lots of people around. One man can easily disappear within the mass, he thought to himself.

"Acceptable, most accetable", Myssym said. He looked at his back and then proceeded to directly face Pete.

"Listen, Mister..."

"Just call me Pete."

"Pete. Look, Pete, there are a dozen of prisoners on the ship. Dangerous prisoners, at that. If you will leave them here and take me, just me, to Mars."

"But I need compensation. Spare parts from that ship."

"I'm in a hurry, you see. How long would it take for you to take out those stabilizer-whatevers?"

"Ten hours, twelve max."

Myssym allowed some wrinkles on his forehead to appear. "I don't have ten hours. This corner of space will be literally swarming with patrols in a short while. We need to get the hell out of here, now."

"I still need compensation. My cargo will be late." Not that it mattered, Pete thought, the Martians were nearly ecstatic when bootleg materials were brought to them, at least some were.
They had no time to worry that the shipment was a rotation or two late.

"I can provide you with appropriate compensation once I'm on Mars -"

A klaxon started to howl.

"What's this?" Myssym asked, looking around.

"The ship's computer has encountered a problem", Pete said. He considered the situation for a split second and said: "Filky, Greg, take your guns away. Mister Myssym, follow me." Pete headed for the cockpit of the small cargo hauler, with Myssym on his trail.

As they reached the cockpit, the klaxon quieted down. Pete dashed at one of the consoles and opened the blast screen in front of the cockpit's main window. He projected a holographic view on it.

"A ship", Myssym said slowly.

"A Coalition patrol corvette", Pete confirmed from the computer. "They are attempting to contact us."

"What can we do?" Myssym asked.

"Well, if we don't respond in ten minutes, they'll board us. We don't want that to happen, do we?"

"Can't we flee? Fight it?"

"Excuse me?" Pete laughed. "We are directly docked with a ship twice this one's size. The connection would be torn away and hinder us. Besides, we can't outrun, or outgun, a corvette."

"Well, I guess we have no choice then to -"

"This is civilian cargo hauler Dark Side of the Moon, ID code as follows", Pete said to the communicator, before transmitting the code.

"Roger that. This is Coalition Navy Ship Wendigo, Lieutenant and Commanding Officer Procton speaking. Whilst we check that code, could you please send us your passenger and cargo manifest?"

"Of course", Pete replied and once again punched commands to the interface.

"All right. The ID code shows to be accurate. So does the cargo manifest, how are the plants doing?"

"Fine, as always", Pete said.

"There are only two problems. First off, we would like to now why a prisoner transport, which are always prohibited from docking when in transit, in any situation except emergencies, is linked up with your ship. Also, the prisoner ship is not responding to our hails, and it's ID code is still being searched in the database. Secondly, we would still like to take a closer look at your ship, since your model possibly can't accommodate a hydroponics containment unit for this kind of amounts of vegetation."

Pete muted the microphone. "Crap!" he yelped. The cover story had failed.

"Problem", Myssym, who had heard the conversation, retorted.

"Problem?" Greg, who had just now entered the room, asked in a state of confusion.

Myssym turned swiftly around and took a look at Greg.

"You look familiar, have we met?" Greg asked before Myssym could say a word.

"I don't think so." This sudden and unexpected question had his thoughts go awry and mixed up.

"No time for high school reunions here", Pete noted, "the Coalition ship is still out there."

And to remind of this fact, the speakers continued in the voice of Lieutenant Procton: "Hello? The connection is open. You aren't ignoring us are you?"

"Excuse me, sorry, there are some... problems with the fuel injection system. Stand by for a minute."

"But your scanner signature doesn't show any signs of a -"

"It's an internal problem. Gotta go, I'll be right back", Pete quickly said and shut the communicator down.

"Now what are we going to do?" asked Filkins, who had also entered the cockpit. Actually, it was getting rather crowded in there.

"We need to get something plausible for this fellow, and fast", Myssym snapped.

[Sovereign]

Planet "B", Wu235 system
UCSS Copernicus

The massive Relativity class battleship, the UCSS Copernicus slowly lumbered towards the wreckage of the Michael. Two UCS Strike Cruisers, the Titanium and the Uranium kept vigilant guard on either side of the Copernicus.

Prior to the attack, tactical sensors on the Copernicus identified the Michael as a Believer vessel, confirming earlier long range sensor scans of the sector that revealed Believer signatures. The computers analyzed the name Michael as an Biblical name, which further reinforces the confirmation of the vessel as a Believer vessel.

Little did the crew or the computers of the strike force realize that they destroyed a Protectorate vessel and Protectorate troops.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bridge of the UCSS Copernicus

Sitting in the command chair of the Copernicus, Captain Jason Holland's gaunt face was visibly fuming.

He shouted, "What the hell happened? Why didn't the Tactical Tanks analyze that the Michael had super-cannons? The loss of the heavy cruiser UCSS Ionic wasn't part of the plan! The Believers do not have the technological know-how to construct such advanced weaponry as the UCS, or the Protectorate.”

Tactical Officer Kiran Ronso stood straight and began to counter the Captain in his baritone Ronso growls.

"We not know. How we know without Intel? We do not. The enemy ship destroyed in glorious battle. We victorious. If all four ships dead means we Lose. Believers dead and we live. This is Victory in Battle."

Sensor Officer Marlene spoke up after the Ronso's admonishment.

"We're detecting a thousand troops on the second planet of the system. All Human life signs."

Holland simply stated, "Yamato Cannon bombardment."

Marlene shook her head. Holland glared at Marlene, "You question my order?!"

It took all of Marlene’s inner strength to calmly inform Jason Holland, "I detect an alien vessel nearby to the thousand-troop garrison. It is definitely more advanced than what we have encountered. I'm detecting several technologies that are a century ahead of our current technology level. I’m detecting some Quantum technologies within that alien vessel. That may be very well be the source where the Believers are getting such technology to develop these super-cannons that destroyed the Ionic.

It is possible for an Enterprise class War Carrier to tow the vessel to UCS territory. Luckily the UCSS Solaris was dispatched to this area, along with several dozen accompanying warships to engage the Believer activity. If we summon the Solaris, it will be able to arrive with its task force within three hours."

Holland's mood began to change. "Inform the Solaris to prepare to tow the alien vessel. Also, request the Anti-Believer Task Force 'Crucifixion' to assist in securing this area. Deploy our Mechanoid Units to dispose of the Believers garrison around that alien vessel. Let‘s deprive the Believers of this alien ship and its ‘fountain‘ of technological wonders."

The bridge became a flurry of activity, with secure transmissions and preparations of the Mechanoid Units.

Several assault transports detached themselves from the Assault Transport Holding Bays on either side of the Relativity class battleship. The transports slowly made their way towards the now designated Planet ”B” with the goal of securing the area. Four hundred Mechanoid Units were preparing for combat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One hour later
Surface of Planet “B”

The assault transports landed somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere of the Mars type world of Planet “B” after an uneventful planetary entry. The transports slowly opened their great cargo doors, and the four hundred Mechanoid Units steadily exited the transports. The Mechanoid Units filed up in several ranks, which revealed four distinct types of Mechanoid Units.

The Panther Walkers readied its Tachyon cannons, and engaged its tracking systems. They formed the front ranks, while the Jaguar Walkers took up artillery positions with their Heavy Tachyon cannons as well as miniature Xaos missiles. The Crater Hover-Tanks split up into groups of five, to supplement each other, and activated their sensors. The sensors fed information to the entire Mechanoid Army, of the supposed location of the alien ship and the garrison that defended it.

The last Mechanoid units to be disgorged from the assault transports made the loose rocks jump around and the area to rumble. Enormous fifteen meter Crusher Heavy-Tanks, triple the size of the Crater’s, descended from the ramps and took up cover positions next to the Jaguar artillery.

Several minutes later, after the formations were completed, the Mechanoid Army moved as one towards the alien ship and the garrison.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Hferin Vessel
Planet”B”
45 minutes later.

The fighting between the Protectorate Star Marines, mistaken for Believers by the UCS AI units, and the Mechanoid Units became fierce. The leading Panther Walkers got destroyed from the initial Plasma Shard Buckshot fire from the hastily fortified garrison.

Yet, more Panther’s walked over the smoking ruins of the front ranks, uncaring of their destroyed brothers. The Jaguars opened fire with Heavy Tachyon cannons, as well as anti-infantry modified Xaos Missiles, decimating the front-line Human ranks of the Star Marines.

This allowed an opening for the Panthers to surge through, eliminating several waves of Star Marines. The routed Star Marines retreated towards their three quarters complete encampment. The Craters and Crushers caught up with them, flanking them from the sides of the advancing Walkers. Several Walkers suddenly exploded from a hidden Protectorate minefield, and cheers could be heard from the Star Marines.

The Star Marines, buoyed by the destruction of 28 Walkers in the minefield, manned the heavy cannons at the encampment. They began to target the rapidly approaching Craters and Crushers. Several Craters made suicidal runs, destroying two manned Heavy Cannons, and then being destroyed in turn. The AI’s of the Crushers began to change its directives of a standard combat path of frontal line assault, to a one of long-range artillery.

The dual plated Crushers began to swivel their Quad-Xaos launchers around to target the remaining Heavy Cannons, rather than the Star Marines. Three Crushers got annilihated, while four got one side demolished or blown off and kept charging with their other half. The Crushers managed to blow through the Heavy Cannon lines of defenses. The Minefields were detected by the Craters that swerved in front of the Crushers as a newly formed vanguard. However, the Minefields were ineffective against the hovering Craters and Crushers, but the data was transferred to the remaining Walkers, to avoid the mined area between the smoking ruins of the Heavy Cannons.

The remaining four hundred Star Marines began pairing up in teams of five, to attempt to take down a single Walker or Hover-Tank at a time. This tactic proved ineffectual, since the Artillery fire from the Jaguars shattered the groups, forcing the Protectorate troops to split up to attack solo.

Then, three Panthers and one Crater suddenly blew up from heavy weapons fire. The Mechanoid AI’s sensed another foreign AI in the vicinity, and calculated that it was not located inside the alien vessel. The bloodied Star Marines cheered again, as the Minotaur and Hyperion Cyber’s worked together, laying down heavy weapons fire towards the inexorably advancing UCS wall of Mechanoids.

The Mechanoids analyzed this new threat, and decided collectively to eliminate it as quickly as possible. Several Tachyon pulses and two Xaos missiles were launched towards the valiant Hyperion, which resulted in the Hyperion losing one arm, and severe damage to both legs and its lower torso. It began to tip over, until it eventually crashed to the ground in front of the horrified Star Marines. The Minotaur went in a beserk mode, emptying its ammo on the UCS Mechanoids. Several additional Mechanoids fell, until another volley of Tachyon pulses and Xaos missiles struck the Minotaur. Almost instantly, it joined its comrade, the Hyperion, on the ground, smoking and extensively damaged.

The surviving Star Marines fought valiantly towards the end. However, a squad of Star Marines, commanded by Captain Alvarez, raised a white flag, which the leading Crater AI identified as ‘surrender’. The Crater then activated its loudspeakers.

“Surrender accepted, Believers. You shall become prisoners of the University Civilized States, and shall pay penance for the death of Academician Prokhor Zakharov.”

The remaining 75 Star Marines became beldiwered, and began to mutter amongst themselves, but was rudely interrupted by the UCS AI.

“Proceed to the assault transport to be transported to the Copernicus.”

Another Mechanoid AI sent a message to Captain Jason Holland, “Alien vessel secured. Hostiles eliminated, and a squad surrendered. Prepare to recieve them as prisoners.”

The squad of Star Marines were marched towards the assault transport. The transport lifted off, and arrived at the Copernicus two hours after the end of the pitched battle at the alien vessel. The Star Marines were then marched towards the Prisoner Brigs, and then scanned for any hidden tools or weaponary. Their armor were stripped, and each Marine was put in an Brig Cell. The Brigs were designed with perfectly smooth walls made out of pure Neutronium, as well as triple reunduant gridwork of Tachyon Lasers covering the “door” so no prisoner would be able to make any sort of miraclous escape.

Around the same time, the Anti-Believer Task Force arrived, with the UCSS Solaris in the lead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bridge of the UCSS Copernicus

Captain Jason Holland was quite pleased. The operation was a success, despite the loss of almost 100 Mechanoid units, a quarter of the battalion sent to the planet. He had prisoners of war, as well as the Solaris with the Anti-Believer Task Force following closely behind arriving. He motioned for a Comm Officer to send Academician Randius Zakharov an transcript, as well as sensory information on the battle and the important find of the alien vessel.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One hour later.

The Solaris approached Planet “B”, and began towing prodecures on the alien vessel. The alien vessel was gingerly lifted off the ground with dozens of structure-sensitive towing cables, since the Tractor Beams couldn’t get a lock on the alien vessel.

The alien vessel was halfway to the Solaris when the Protectorate reinforcements arrived.

The standoff began.

[Mellian]

3 hours before Kessel's reply to Kerensky...

Novan Argonaut Cruiser Silverstar, Whatever System

Captain Warden just received orders from Joe Nova concerning the new plans, and smiled. This will be fun he thinks to himself. He informs the rest of his force in the system that they are going to dump the Morganites and get out of the system, quietly at first and then as quickly as possible when they start to realize. All the Novan ships across the system start to converge at a random rendezvous point, using the excuse that they have detected something and they are going in to find out what it is. Of course, the local Morganite Commander wasn't to please, seeing that there was nothing there, so starts ordering the Novans back, but they don't. Was quiet for a bit until some Morganite ships started going after them, mainly some frigates and destroyers. with a single cruiser. When the Morganite Commander demanded what the Novans are doing, Warden ordered to have the Virus activated and then replied to the Morganite. "Oh we decided to go check out that beautiful Gas Giant at the edge of the system, want to come a long?" That sure puzzled the Commander, and then quickly ordered to target weapons at the Novans, demanding them to stop. Again, they don't and continue on their way The Morganite apparently didn't know what to do until his ships started to malfunction. He ordered to fire at the Novans, but only a frigate and a destroyer was able to fire, which miss the Novans who didn't return fire. Instead, they simply jump into FTL and left.


2 hours before Kessel's reply to Kerensky...

Novan Nautilus Destroyer Rebel With A Cause, defending Station Theo not to far from Naxos

Commander Curtis Johnson, nicknamed Cujo, was watching the heavy fighting around Naxos. It was pretty obvious that the Terrans were winning, despite taking quite some losses. They are flooding the orbit in mass numbers, forcing the Morganites to fight in close ranges and in some cases, to break up. The remaining Orbital Defences were having trouble as well, as they risk having one of their Ship Busters or the extremely large Fusion Cannon to miss and hit the moon, or even hitting their own ships and fellow orbitals. It was quite a site. The Morganite Admiral as occasionally screaming at the Pirates to come in and help, yet Marcus Davion (the second-in-command of the Novan Clan) keeps replying that it is not part of their contract to get involved in Fleet Actions. The Novans are not cowards, just that there was zero chances of surviving in they get involved in that heavy fighting which they are not equipped. If they were the Kell Hounds or the Wolf Dragoons with some of their Heavy Cruisers, maybe, but the best the Novans as in the area is a hand full of Nautilus-class Destroyers and a single Atlas-class Escort Carrier.

Besides, Marcus ordered all of the Novan ships in the system to quietly get ready for the new mission, which involves backstabbing the Morganites by ceasing or simply disable the Stations, Space Docks and Mining Platforms they are currently defending for the Terrans. To bad, he really liked that bar on the Station. The Data Angel who is operating Science Ops as been busy to get the viruses ready for action...and they will be activated once he sends off one last message to the Station.... His Destroyer and the others who was defending the station started targetting weapons at it and activating Jammers when Comm-ed the Station "Station Theo, sorry to do this, but you are to stand down and to surrender to the Terran Alliance, else we would have to put you guys down." Several seconds later, the station started powering up weapons and launching its few fighters. Soon afterwards, the station started having powerful failures all over the station...but the fighters sure didn't have that problem.

There is total of six morganite fighters, and they already started focussing their firepower on the Born To Be Wild, causing the minor damages. The destroyers point defence systems started firing at them, quickly taking out two of their fighters. The remaining four started circling the Station, keeping it close and occasionally fired a missile or with their gauss cannons. Not only what they are doing is putting the station in danger and generally being stupid, it is making hard for the Novans to destroy them. They risking their lives on the Novans honorable reputation to avoid civilian losses. Well, if they are going to be foolish, then there is not much they could but fired at them and risk damaging the station. Before he gave the order to forget the station and just blast the those crazy fighters to smithereens, a Squadron of Novan Freedom fighters from the Davion's Escort Carrier, came in range and started going after the morganites. Those fighters had no chance against the Novans' Freedoms.

About 10 minutes later, the last remaining Morganite fighter got eliminated, splattering debris against the Rebel With A Cause's hull...has it was planning a Kamikaze. They turn their attention back to the station, who was still having some power problems. He tried comming them again, but there was no response at all. After a scan or two, they realize that their Comm systems is not working, so he ordered the Destroyers in his command to board the station and capture it. So about six Breach Pods were launched and breach the station's hull and started boarding. After some minor resistence from the barely adequate security and few marines, they Surrendered.

Now, they are to wait until the Terrans finish off the Morganites around Naxos. The rest of the Novans in the system didn't seem to have to much problem to pull off their stunts, but they reports started to come in from some of the Novan ships of Morganite troubles....

[Sprayber]

To: Admiral Kerensky
From: Colonel Kessel

Then we are agreed. I suggest negotiations be held in a neutral system. Concordia or Firaxis are acceptable to Sparta. I believe that the Morganites would prefer neutral ground as well. What is the opinion of the Terran Alliance?

CC. CEO Morgan


*******Encrypted Message******
To: CEO Morgan
From: Colonel Kessel

CEO, I have secured a temporary cease fire. It may take hours to filter down to the engaged fleets but by the end of the day hostilities should be ended at least for the time being. Sparta will be maintain it’s fleet in the Cooperate Sector until things have stabilized. The reinforcing fleets on their way from Spartan territory will continue but will not enter the Cooperate Sector at this time. I have suggested that negotiations be held in a neutral system. Either Concordia or Firasxis.

Col. M. Kessel COTM

[Mr. President]

Dryad Grove, Magnigoth Pass, the World of Trees

Sam did not think “Dryads” was an appropriate nickname for a sports team. The term implied fragile creatures ill-suited to the rigors of the soccer field. But of course, he was wearing a shirt with a purple pterodactyl printed on the front. Given that their legs were, on average, a quarter the size of their arms, how could they play at all?

Frail as their team’s name was, the Magnigoth Pass stadium was unwelcoming to outside sports enthusiasts. Dryad Grove was incongruously nicknamed “Hell” by the press for its intimidating atmosphere. After showing his ticket at the gate, Sam had tried to navigate through enormous crowds, most of them in the bright green that marked them as home fans. A young woman had come up on his blind side, and he bumped into her as he turned. Sam had smiled. After all, she was cute, and he was single. And soccer games were supposed to be social occasions. What response had he gotten?

She looked him up and down and said, “You’re a long way from home, Razorwing boy.” And she had flashed him a smile like a wolf licking its lips.

Sam didn’t think that meant she liked him, especially considering she was now seated five rows in front of him, waving fists in the direction of the field and screaming far too many words of the “eviscerate” genus for his comfort. New Seattle’s captain Idan Berkovic curled the ball towards the far post, and the home fans’ noise dropped off as the shot lanced past their goalie. There was a loud sound of leather meeting wood. Then they started shouting again. Sam saw the woman’s lips form the words “Where’s the defence?”

Halftime. Large numbers of the fans rose, making their way to the restrooms and/or the refreshment stand. Some believed that to get up before a game was finished was not the behavior of a true fan. Sam was not one of those, however. It was just a game. The greatest game in the world, but no more.

But then, Sam did prefer watching soccer to watching the breaking galactic news. He only sang the national anthem before matches. There was even a time when his ex-girlfriend had wanted to fool around, and he had literally brushed her off when he remembered that the New Seattle Razorwings were playing the semi-final second leg in Morgan Aerodynamics on channel 17.

Sam returned to his seat just in time to see New Seattle kicking off for the second half. With only the team’s fourth kick, Idan Berkovic found an elegant pass to Morganic striker Yoshi Takahara. The latter pushed the ball between the Dryad defender’s legs and prodded it goalwards. Expecting a high shot, the Magnigoth Pass goalkeeper barely saved with his feet, and the ball skidded to Sam’s left. The defenders closed fast. Fortunately, Firaxian international Valentin Khatskevich was faster. A one-legged man could have put away the chance, and the winger had two strong, clearly visible feet.

Hell froze, but Sam leaped to his feet and cheered until his throat hurt. He rarely talked on Sundays, after spending much of every Saturday screaming his lungs out trying to be heard over 50,000 voices. As he sat back down again, simultaneously drained and exhilirated, he could feel the frustration of home supporters in rows behind him, their glares tunneling into the back of his neck. Sam didn’t care. After all, it was just a game.