The Spartan Chronicles - Page 3

korn469 · July 19, 1999, 10:37

Near Plex Anthill
08:24 hours SMT

Spartan Air command reporting that due to the imminence of hurricane weather we are dispersing needlejets to home bases. Fort Superiority cannot safely accommodate more than one Penetrator and one Interceptor under secure cover.
Air support will be suspended for three days

It was the best news Colonel Thomilson had heard in a while. It had been raining for the past two days, and today it actually felt like this storm could be part of a hurricane, however they were somewhat inland and protected from the full fury of the storm. For the past three day, the Hive 32nd bomber winger had been pounding the 469th. Unfortunately, they were out of range from the interceptors stationed at Fort Superiority, and the Hive enjoyed complete air superiority. On the first day of the air attacks, a platoon from Delta Company was caught out in the open and suffered heavy casualties. After that they dug in and traded off mobility for safety. That didn’t stop the Hive from attacking any targets of opportunity they came upon. They strafed Zeta Company destroying two chaos drop rovers. The Hive bombers also provided close air support when forward element of the Hive 12th Infantry came under fire from Caffeine Company.

The bad weather was good news. According to the transmission from SAC at Fort Superiority, bad weather would ground all flights for three days. That would effect the Hive's bombers as well. Thomilson guessed that the hurricane would also make it impossible for anymore reinforcements to arrive at Plex Anthill across the narrow land bridge. So now was the time to strike, and General Lockhart had an audacious plan for doing just that.

Caffeine Company would try to use the bad weather and constant hit and run attacks to make it appear like the 469th was holding positions. Then the rest of the division would sweep around and attack the 12th infantry on its flanks. The latest word from recon was that the 12th Infantry had taken up positions along the road just outside of the Great Fungus Wall. The four Marine Brigades and the Hive 118th Mechanized Infantry Division (Anti-air) were maintaining their original positions outside of Assassin’s Redoubt. However the Hive 3rd Armored Cav Division “Hell’s Horses” were an unknown variable. Instead of advancing to reinforce the Hive forces near Assassin’s Redoubt, or advancing along with the 12th Infantry towards our positions they had apparently headed into the Great Fungal Wall. It was unknown why they would do that. There wasn’t any know Spartan forces operating in that area. It was possible they were trying a flanking maneuver but that was unlikely since advancing through the fungus would really slow them down. Recon could not give assurance that they couldn’t reinforce the 12th, but they did say it was unlikely.

Near Hive lines
13:16 hours SMT

Captain Nathan Gatesly was having a hard time deciding which was worse. Laying in the mud under camouflage netting and not being rained on, or being able to stand up (yet still in the mud) but being rained on. Actually it was more than rain, it was a downpour. He hadn’t seen it rain like this since being a child with his father in the Monsoon Jungle. Not that being wet and muddy bothered him. It was just a random thought that had came up. When he took in how hard it was raining, he decided that being under the netting was the better choice. He chuckled to himself. A long time ago his mom told him that if he had any sense at all he’d come in and stop playing in the rain. It was funny that the all these years later that nobody he knew he had enough sense to stop playing in the rain. In fact, General Lockhart had decided that because it was raining so hard it’d be a perfect time to attack. It was completely comical. Only two more hours before he was supposed to have his company start the diversion.

He knew he had to wait that long, otherwise it would interfere with the plan. He just didn’t want to wait that long. He was ready to go now, he could feel adrenaline flowing through his system, but he managed to stay restrained. Not much longer he told himself but he could barely wait.

[This message has been edited by korn469 (edited July 19, 1999).]

Tokek Belerang · July 19, 1999, 10:55

The Cyborg was grounded. Fierce winds kept all choppers down, and most people inside. Hendrikus' fusion chopper was in the hangar, but the big man himself was scaling the cliffs outside town. North Fleet was due in, and he wanted to see with his own eyes whether the Lycurgus would make it.

From a high-up cave, using a telescopic visor, Hendrikus could indeed make out the small convoy heading into the coast, the Lycurgus one of them. As the ships turned into the lee of the rockface from which Hendrikus was peering down, he lifted his visor and made to leave. It was the merest of movements that made him slam down his visor again and peer down at the Lycurgus.

Damn you, Salvador St James, he thought. You still had Lindly on your mind, after all.

Squeezing out from the little convoy and disappearing into the fungal fields, no longer hidden from view by the superstructure of the Lycurgus, for one brief moment there had been a sight that had brought terror to the hearts of sailors ever since the first unity foils had taken to the waters. A demon boil Isle of the Deep broke off from North Fleet - of which it was, to all appearances, a part. And from the size of its wake, it was ferrying cargo, as well. Worms. Had to be worms, Hendrikus' thoughts raced. Somehow worms and isles were fighting for the Spartans now.

Moving South.

But going where?

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

Numquam turbae misceri

[This message has been edited by Tokek Belerang (edited July 20, 1999).]

Timexwatch · July 19, 1999, 13:03

18:46 hours SMT
16:46 MFN (Morgan Financial Time)

The light on the tap began to blink slowly. "Battery Charged. Please Remove from energy souce..."

"Bout Time" Adam sighed.

Suddenly there came a blinking from the top of his helmet-mounted HUD. PsychOps flashtraffic.

"Dammit, this can't be good."

The message opened in his HUD:

Communications Init...
Connecting...
Recieving message...
Wait...

PsychOps Flashtraffic

Situation Update:

Outlying areas of Plex Anthill destroyed
Peacekeeper probe incursion discovered but eliminated
A large Hurricane has formed over Northern Hemisphere
Air support at Fort Superiority Suspended due to Hurricane
Large Hive fleet assembling near Laborers Throng
Peacekeepers have signed Pact, Ops teams dispatched to monitor

Orders:

Proceed to Morgan News Complex
Find Spartan operative that is being targeted by Hive Intelligence
Extract Spartan operative and return to Admirality Base
Be aware members of the Ashaandi Circle may be involved in the operation

Message Finished...
Terminating Uplink...

Twain sat back. Ashaandi Circle. Deadly bastards. Some of the deadliest.
He heard about some of their exploits before, the assinations, bombings and other terror lead by an operative named "Sand". "Sand" had killed enough people to fill a graveyard. If he were ever caught, there wouldn't be a soul in the Federation that wouldn't kill him.

"Time to get to work"

And with that, Twain packed the tap back in his bag, dropped his cigarette, stomped it, then set out down the access corridor.

[This message has been edited by Timexwatch (edited July 19, 1999).]

Tokek Belerang · July 19, 1999, 14:18

Salvador St James ran into the outrunners of the storm a little after sunsup. His plane, little more than an ultralight needlejet, would be blown straight to Deianira if he stayed up much longer, and after a hasty downwind reconnaissance he put the plane down in a hollow and got out to camouflage it with fungal stalks. He had actually found the very spot his own Cyborg had sprung out of to evac Gung Ho Wells and his party, but he wasn't aware of that.

He had been preoccupied a lot, lately. Not the Signature business - he was under no illusion that other factions would not learn to tame and nurture worm broods as well, and the advantage would only be fleeting. Only the Gaians could perhaps have gained a deciding advantage from psi warfare, if they had only used their psi empathy more rigourously.

His own fate was what had been on his mind. A warbird by nature, he was now coming around to weaker, softer notions. It used to be that Gavin, Googlie, Dread and he swore sacred oaths not to allow each other to be captured. Right now, perhaps only Dread would still feel that way.

These days, he found himself thinking like a Gaian, a Peacekeeper, a Believer even. And the meditative notions of the Chairman were beginning to have an appeal to him. Perhaps only the Morganites failed to impress him in any sense at all - too shallow, too easy.

The Spartan ideology still rang true - be thine own master - but over time, he had ceased to feel that it could not coexist with other visions. His tolerance for what was different was on the rise.

He looked up at the sky, and saw only leaden darkness. Sand would not be pinned down, now. This was what his father would have called thieves' weather. He finished the camouflage job, and went to find a sheltered place higher up. Hopefully Gavin would come, moving under the cover of the storm. There was a chance to trap both Sand and the Hive invasion force now.

After this. After his last fight.

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

Numquam turbae misceri

Veracitas · July 19, 1999, 21:59

With Kinjiru's permission, I have been given dictate over the fates of Captain Elyias and his XForce (1st Expeditionary Force) near the Ruins.

Chapter the Second

The way gives them life
And virtue rears them;
Things take shape
And vessels are formed.

Hence the myriad creatures all revere the way and honour virtue. The way in being revered, and virtue in being honoured are constantly so of themselves without anyone bewtowing nobility on them.

The way gives them life and rears them,
Brings them up and accomplishes them,
Brings them to fruition and maturity,
Feeds and shelters them.
It gives them life without claiming to possess them;
It benefits yet exacts no gratitude for this;
It is the steward yet exercises no authority over them.
Such is called dark virtue.
--Lau Tzu, Te Ching, 14

Ishmael Skye pondered the situation before him. Through telepathic link with a mind worm, he could see the troops of the Spartan First Expeditionary Force settling on the edge of the fungal bloom that engulfed the Ruins. Not "see," really, for mind worms did not have the visual sensors that humans did. Nay, they perceived the world through a much more primal medium: that of the raw thoughts of the sentient being. Ishmael could feel the very emotions juxtaposed like the shadows that followed every being. The air seemed to teem and almost vibrate with the pheremones of group consciousness. At times like this, he almost wondered at how these lesser humans could be so blind to it.

Thoughts meandred in and out of the consciousness of space time. Tangent upon tangent, Ishmael followed the ramblings of his mind. He could feel the secrets of clairvoiyance just within his grasp. But to no avail did he toil to that end.

Jostling himself out of his reverie, Ishmael opened his eyes to the dark world that surrounded him. The huge chamber lay underground at the centre of the Ruins. From this great hall there extended many passageways leading into the unknown. The air was icy cold but stale, far from the intense heat of the Great Dunes that lay only a few hundred feet above. In the distance could be heard the steady drip drip of water.

The huge cavern glowed with a dull luminescence, the source of which no human eye could trace. It seemed that the air itself glowed independently, without any central source. The entirety of the chamber was made of a smooth, black rock. The great ceiling was roughly dome-shaped, yet, upon closer inspection, the twisted curves and lines that marred the ceiling could be made out. In contrast, the floor was smooth and without blemish.

The central figure to this daunting image was what, in all appearances, looked like a throne. It was situated hundreds of feet from the floor and could be reached through a grand flight of stairs. The whole structure took up a good sixty degree arc of the entire chamber perimeter. The throne itself was huge, made for a big human. It was made of the same black stone as the rest of the chambre. It had a tortured and sharp look to it. On the back of the throne could be seen the engraving of a dragon claw holding a planet in its grip.

Ishmael could never tell whether that planet represented Earth or Chiron. Look at that monstrosity. Made precisely to fit earthbeings. And yet, it must have been constructed millions of years ago. How did Planet know? How does Planet know? Ishmael stood at the base of the stairs, watching the throne with a curiosity tinged with a morbid sense of dread.

Until the Gods themselves we become, not can we rest our efforts. Not until the Chosen Ones transcend the flesh and join the ranks of the divine. Not until the dirty pagans have been purged from our Planet can it truly be ours! Ishmael's thoughts returned to the Spartan Expeditionary Force lingering around the Ruins.

There will be time for genocide. For now, we must tread this dangerous path carefully. Ishmael extended his awareness to the life all around the Ruins. Here resided the most powerful mind worms that Ishmael had ever seen. There was at least one Great Boil, he knew from personal experience. When Planet had first lured him to this sanctuary, he had found himself faced with a huge Great Boil Mind Worm whose collective length was at least 100 metres. He was greeted with immense pains that flooded his whole body. In retrospect, the psionic power that the Great Boil was capable of was almost unbelievable to Ishmael. But at that moment, he had not time to think of aught but the pain. As Ishmael started to feel his sentient being transit from his body--and his brain almost bursting from his skull--the pain dulled to a slow-tempo song. A Voice had spoken to him: welcome to the Ruins, earthishmael, we have been waiting...

Now that he thought of it, Ishmael realised that the Great Boil carried in it far more power than it had showed him, and that only a small fraction of its psionic energies was needed to bring him to his knees. Planet had even given hints to him about even greater mind worms--Daemon Boils, they were called--that lurked deep within the fungal forests of Chiron.

After skimming the native life around the camped troops with his mind, he latched onto one particular hatchling to take a closer "look" at the soldiers. XForce, they called themselves, led by Captain Elyias. This will be far more difficult than that lone Peacekeeping scout. We had managed to destroy it before it sended out any signals to the U.N. Destroying an entire expeditionary force would arouse suspicion. They must survive, but they must also not be allowed to reveal our position. Not yet. Perhaps...

Ishmael decided upon what course of action to take, however, he was unsure as to what forces he should marshall. If I send the Great Boil at them, will it listen to me? Even if it does, will my Empaths be able to handle even being in its presence?

Ishmael Skye sent out a telepathic message to the worms.

Captain "Paco" Elyias was in his bed chamber when a loud crash woke him up. In the next instant, he could hear screams of pain break the ghostly stillness of the night. He immediately rose and donned his combat suit. In such uncertain places like this--the Great Dunes--he was never far from it. Keeping his shredder pistol at hand, he stepped out into the desert night. Immediately, he fell to the floor, clutching his head and screaming. Immense pain flooded through all corridors of his being. Through the corner of his eye, he saw a huge mind worm boil--at least 150 metres long--tower above him. Quickly, the voracious mind worm larvae jumped off the great boil and eagerly onto Elyias's writhing body. He could see his men, throughout the camp, falling under the same fate. He remembered the scientific studies that he had read on mind worms--only in passing, during one of his lazy searches through datalinks. He recalled reading that they burrowed into the brain, injecting their ravenous larvae. Elyias would be food. He readied himself for death...

...But it did not come. Elyias's convulsions were brutally stopped as the larvae completely covered his body in the frozen form of a semi-boil. As the pain in his head became more and more intolerable, his muscles screamed to move. He wanted to cry out, but the mind worms had choked his throat and covered his mouth.

Through the pattern that the larvae had woven over his face, he could see three men dressed in dark Great Cloaks traversing his camp. As they passed by soldier upon soldier, the larvae released their hold and scurried into the protection of the fungus. The soldiers lay there, unconscious or dead. As the hooded men approached Elyias, the excruciating pain eased, and he could feel a voice in his head. Forget your pains...forget your glories...forget this place, earthelyias...

Captain Elyias fell into dream.

[This message has been edited by Veracitas (edited July 19, 1999).]
[This message has been edited by Veracitas (edited July 22, 1999).]

Hydro · July 20, 1999, 00:08

2nd Armor Division 'Rolling Thunder', Spartan Faction, Great Fungal Wall, Rover Lightning

"Good morning, Mary," Markus said from his sleep cubby.

Mary quickly finished putting on her utility jumper, touch sealed it, and turned toward Markus. "You had a rough night," she stated, grinning.

"Yah, hope I wasn't too much trouble," Markus replied.

"I'm just glad your bett…" Mary started, but a lurch by the rover threw her off balance and she caught herself on the autokitchen frame.

Markus made a move to help Mary, but was too far away and he gave up. "I almost hate to ask, but where are we going?"

"New orders. Looks like our mindworming and pod popping days are over for a while. The Hive has punched through the Great Fungal Wall and is nearing Assassin's Redoubt. There are also some marauding Hive rovers in The Wall. Also, it looks like the 469th got the jump on us," Mary paused so Markus would get the pun. He just waved his hand in front of his face and scrunched up his nose. "They and the Northern Expeditionary force discovered a Hive base on the other side of The Wall. I don't recall its name right now. They are busy creating all sorts of havoc. Typical. " Mary continued.

"The COs don't tell us grunt engineers everything, but it looks like Lighting, Knife Strike, and Blue Death get to go exterminate some Hive infantry near Assassin's Redoubt. Rumble, Deth Shock, and Firestorm are setting a little trap for Yang's psychopathic minions," Mary finished.

"Sounds a lot better than worming," Markus commented. "Mary, what happened? The last thing I remember is Marciel's body being thrown through the hatch and Rao pushing past me."

"Markus, Marciel is in real bad shape. He lost it in the pod, and started firing his taser randomly, all over the place. Rao tried to calm him down, like they tell us to do in training, but he was gone. He started screaming and running around frantically. He fell through an open hatch into the cargo bay. Rao said he bounced around a lot on his way down. Rao throwing him into the rover bulkhead didn't help, either. Luong and Trav fixed him up as best they could, and Aardvark 2 put him in co-pilot and evaced him to Assassin's Redoubt. Last I heard he'd be out for at least a month. We are OK. Rao and I have fixed all of the hull and electrical damage, but we're at 70% until you are up and running again and we get a replacement for Marciel.

Mary paused. "The mindworm attack got pretty ugly, Markus. I went up to help Lou after his confused message to us. When I got there he had already partially destroyed the turret console and was yelling something about worms. As soon as I was through the iris valve he ripped the back of the chair off and starting attacking me with it. I've never seen anything like it." Mary looked up in the general direction of the chaos turret. "It's like our Lou wasn't there. All I could do is put up my arm, but he just kept hitting me with it. Then Rao burst through, and make short work of Lou. Dropped him like a sack of fibrefungus."

"Then the worms came. I always though worms boils rolled. I was wrong. I saw the worm from near the pod flow around the base of the pod and toward Lighting. From the other side of the turret I saw the huge worm south of us morph through the fungus. They didn't disturb one fungul stalk, Markus. It was like the fungus wasn't there, and they were so fast. Then the chittering started and grew louder and louder. Not the sounds they use in the Morgan vids. It was like a combination of a cricket and a rasping saw. I couldn't move a muscle. I don't even remember breathing.

"Rao pushed Lou aside and tried to activate the chaos gun. It didn't work. I thought we were dead.

"Then the worms flowed over the base of the rover, then even over the turret dome. They were less than half a meter from me," Mary shuddered, "the dome was pinkish grey, then it was dark.

"I heard some tearing and a sound like glass breaking, and Rao grunted. The hair all over my body started to stand on end. Then I heard Rao say, 'Don't move. I've electrified the hull, if you touch anything you might get electrocuted.' I remember thinking that was a silly order, since I couldn't move, anyway. A little light started showing through, and some of the worms were crisped. The power started to fail and I could smell smoke from an electrical fire. Worms covered the dome again, and it was dark.

"There was an explosion, I don't know where from, and the rover listed. Then some flying fungul debris impacted on the turret dome and scraped some of the worms from the dome, and I saw Aardvark 2. Markus, I've never been so happy to see that obsolete piece of junk in my whole life. More of the worms fell away and I heard more missile impacts. Then I heard the #TuTHOCK#TuTHOCK# of chaos guns in the distance. The rover lurched again.

"The next thing I knew Trav was herding me down from the turret, looking me over. He looked me straight in the eyes. I blinked and said, 'Trav?' Then he smiled, slapped me on the back and disappeared into the smoke. Then I wandered down the passage and saw Luong helping you.

"Markus, Luong noticed your tattoo," Mary stated hesitantly. Markus sat up, looking concerned. "She didn't know what it was, and said something about ivy."

"Ah, tattoo?" Markus said as he unconsciously touched his right upper arm.

"I'm not really sure what it means, but you've gone to a great deal of trouble to hide it over the years. Tell me if you like. I thought you should know.

Markus thought about it for a while, and then looked over at Mary. He decided if he could trust anyone, he could trust his best friend.

"I'm not all that sure, either. My parents," Markus stopped abruptly and closed his eyes. He started to breath fast and shallow.

"Markus, what's wrong?" Mary approached Markus' cubby.

"When the mindworms attacked I remembered Fluffy. And that my parents abandoned me," he explained.

"What are you talking about? I've met Sarah and Mickael. They're mechfarmers outside of Assassin's Redoubt. You couldn't ask for more loving, if rather strict, parents," Mary explained.

Markus shook his head. "No. I just remembered. I don't know how."

"Worms can induce hallucinations, maybe," Mary suggested.

"No," he interrupted, "it was too real. Like I was there." Markus stopped and closed his eyes, remembering. " I remembered that my real Mom and Dad were very tall, with long dark hair tied at the back of their neck. They wore a wrap around their waist that was kind of green and pink, but was very soft. They were really tan. We lived in the fungus.

"We went to visit some strange people who lived in a stone house. We traveled a long way, may days. Everything in the house was hard cold stone and metal. They gave us lots to eat. I was so hungry! The strange people were Sarah and Mickael, Mary. I remember my Dad picked me up and hugged me, told me he love me and that everything would be alright. Then he put me in the arms of the really big woman. She held me tight and was crying with a big smile on her face. Mickael gave my Dad a really big bag and told him something. Dad shook his head. Mickael said something else and he nodded. Then both Mom and Dad got up and walked away into the fungus. My Mom's head dropped and her shoulders were shaking. Dad put his arm around her. I started yelling for them, but they didn't stop. They didn't stop…

"I don't even know their names. But I do remember Fluffy." Markus smiled, and then the smile disappeared.

"It sounds pretty strange. Doesn't it? Who is Fluffy? A pet?" Mary asked.

"Ah, yes. He was my," Markus hesitated, "my mindworm. My Mom gave him to me."

"Now I know it was a worm dream," Mary ventured, "a mindworm? The same things that would have happily devoured us both if Aardvark 2 and Blue Death hadn't arrived?"

"I can't explain it. I just know it's true." Markus' face hardened.

"OK, I believe you. You could ask your parents. They're good people and wouldn't lie to you."

"All they ever told me was to keep my tattoo hidden, but they didn't explain why. Whenever I brought it up they changed the subject," Markus mused. "I don't want to send them a vid, since the censors will get at it. I'll have to wait for my next leave. Who knows when that will be now that the Hive needs another pounding."

"Well, I might as well tell you that you are tethered right here for at least another day," Mary ordered, "give me your medbracelet."

Markus raised his right arm and presented an inconspicuous white band that was around his forearem. Mary raised her datapad and pressed it against two contacts, and read the results on her screen. "My autodoc says your blood sugar is a bit low, but you're fine otherwise. It says to tell you to eat well and get lots of sleep. These programs are such a help," Mary pronounced, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mary placed her left hand on Markus' chest and pushed him into the cubby bedding. She leaned forward, real close to his face. Her breasts touched his chest. He could smell her breath. Markus was confused, but didn't resist. "Lay down and rest, and don't let your macho stupidity get in the way. I'll get you your breakfast. I have about 10 minutes before my shift starts. You will be happy to know that I am getting rover pilot lessons from Rao." Mary stood up and sauntered over the autokitchen, and looked at him sideways as she programmed the autochef.

Rover pilot? Markus snorted in derision.

"Don't think I can do it? Ingrate." She gave him his breakfast by throwing it at his chest. He barely caught it. As he ripped off the hot covering he looked up at Mary.

"Thanks. I mean it," he said simply. His eyes followed her as she left the livquarters.

"Don't mention it," Mary said as she cycled the iris valve to the main cabin. She was smiling beatifically by the time the valve closed behind her.

Rynn · July 20, 1999, 11:27

Miles Cavenagh was a beaten man.

As he was hustled between his captors in a veritable posse of Hive troops, he tried with futility to summon his mindreading ability. He caught vague snatches of his captors thoughts, but learned more from listening to their conversation than ever he could from reading their thoughts. There were six of them, including Bert and Alvin, who seemed to have a personal score to settle with him.

He knew that his neural graft and implants were malfunctioning. His headaches told him that. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t activate his nosepick trigger, but in any event he doubted that it would be effective. Although he had been able to induce the trance prior to the grafting procedure, so maybe… But that only let him project, not intake.

They were moving west, to the coast, to a small bay where the Hive had set up their excursion base.

The winds had picked up considerably over the last two to three hours, and from the scraps of conversation he did hear they were fast tracking to a small forest to gain shelter from what seemed to be a major storm coming, of hurricane proportions.

‘Maybe’, he pondered, ‘if I delay things we’ll get caught in the open. There might be a chance to even the odds a bit and maybe get out of this mess.’

They reached a rocky patch of ground, skirting a fungus patch. He stumbled, and fell, making sure that he hit his head convincingly on a boulder, and feigned unconsciousness.

The posse ground to a halt. The sergeant, a bull of a man, came back to see what was amiss.

“Get him up, let’s get moving”, he rasped. “We haven’t got all day. It’ll be touch and go whether we’ll make yon trees before the hurricane hits, so let’s get moving.”

Miles felt a boot in his kidneys. “Wakey, wakey”, came Alvin’s sneering voice. “Time to go, no time to sleep.”

Then he heard it.

In his mind.

The chittering of mindworms.

Nearby.

At least three or four, judging from the neural commotion they were causing.

He reached out with his mind, untranced, but still powerful.

‘Help, Here, Come, Attack’ he mentalized.

The chittering paused, then reoriented itself, focusing, getting stronger.

Miles felt another prod in the ribs, then gasped as some water was thrown over his face.

He opened his eyes. Bert’s face was leering at him.

“So, we’re awake are we”, he said, emphasizing his words with another kick in the small of Miles’ back.

“Holy Zak”, said one trooper, eyes widening in horror as he spotted three mindworms emerge from the fungus at an astonishing rate.

He unslung his flamer, but even then was too late as the mindworms massed their attack. Miles could feel the psi-power emanate from the worms as the men around him dropped to their knees screaming in agony.

Bert’s face was close to his, contorted in agony.

Miles said “Untie me – I can control them. You’ll live. I guarantee it. I can’t help the others, but stay close to me. Untie me.”

Bert looked at him. ‘Through his pain he thought ‘This might be true. I’ve nothing to lose’. He slipped his knife and cut Miles’ knots.

Miles turned to look at the scene of carnage, his own head splitting with the induced pain and the effort of trying to hold on..

The three mindworms had each chosen a target, and as he watched, the larvae detached themselves from the brood and began their burrowing into the ears, nose and mouths of their victims. Their screaming was piercing and haunting.

Miles picked at his nose, and forced the trance on himself. He went in and out of it as Julia’s face superimposed itself over Lisa’s but as he relived the experience, towards climax, Lisa’s prevailed, and he felt the pain subside.

A cold deadly rage took over. He took Bert’s flamer, and turned it on the pack of humans and mindworms. The screams of the men intensified as the physical agony of being flamed mingled with their psychic agony.

He incinerated the group of three mindworms and three troopers.

He turned to Bert, pointing the flamer at him.

Bert was on his knees, pleading for his life. “You promised’, he begged. “You guaranteed I’d live.”

“Tie up your buddies” Miles said. Bert hastened to reply, trussing them back to back with hands behind their backs and feet tied together. Miles gathered in their weapons.

He changed from the flamer to a shredder pistol, and poked Bert in the back. “keep your hands high where I can see them,” he snarled. “Now let’s veer north to that patch of trees on the horizon’.

“What about Alvin and Peters?” asked Bert. “Won’t the mindworms get them if the hurricane doesn’t?”

“Do you care?” asked Miles. “Do you want to join them?”

“Hell, no.” was Bert’s response. “Let’s get moving.”

The hurricane was almost on them as they reached the small forest of trees.

They barreled into the center of the copse, as the winds howled around them and as the tops of the trees swayed wildly. The undergrowth thickened, slowing their progress.

They stumbled into a small clearing, with a thick canopy of branches covering it, meeting overhead, relatively sheltered.

“This’ll do”, said Miles, flopping to the ground, exhausted. Bert joined him.

Suddenly there materialized around them four hooded figures, appearing out of nowhere, wearing a sort of camouflage suit that blended them into the trees and surrounding shrubbery. They were pointing strange looking pistols at the two. Longer than a shredder yet shorter than a rifle.

One spoke.

“Don’t talk or make any aggressive moves.” He gestured to a companion. “Get their weapons”.

He came over and took the various weapons from Miles that he had been carrying into the clearing.

The first one spoke again.

“So, a Spartan and a Hive soldier, travelling together. Sand will be interested in what we’ve found.”

[This message has been edited by Rynn (edited July 20, 1999).]

Googlie · July 22, 1999, 02:30

Corazon Santiago got up groggily and took the proffered commlink from her aide.

"No visual" her aide warned. "Only primitive sound of not very good quality."

"Santiago here", she rasped.

The voice at the other end snapped her to full awakening.

"Deirdre Skye here. How are you Colonel, if you have not restyled yourself in the meantime?"

"Why my dear Deirdre. I had thought you dead all these years after Yang ran you off the southern continent. I'd heard that some of your supporters had escaped, but didn't realize that you were among them".

"Most certainly," Deirdre replied. "We have found ourselves a sizeable island and have commenced the rebuilding of our own preserve, honoring Planet as I have urged all of you to do."

"Yeah, yeah, good for you", was Santiago's bored reply. "Surely you didn't contact me just to lecture me again on the benefits of loving the worms and tasting the fungus? You did enough of that in Council before your untimely tiff with Yang."

"No, Colonel, indeed no," was Deirdre's hasty reply, fearful that Santiago would just terminate the link.

"I contacted you because I have a proposal to make."

"I'm listening."

"I have something you want, and you have something I want. Let's trade."

"Continue," said Santiago.

"I have in my possession one Wing Commander Scott Allardyce, a guest in our preserve, and I am willing to return him to you in exchange for your needlejet technology. Specifically a working needlejet and the documentation and specifications that will enable our engineers to manufacture them."

"And if I refuse this request?" asked Santiago.

"Then Wing Commander Allardyce will live out a happy retirement among us Gaians and I am sure will be persuaded to give us the benefit of his not insignificant military wisdom. But I was relying on your friendship with him. Was he not one of the original settlers who landed on Planet with you?"

"Indeed" was Santiago's gruff reply.

"Well?"

"If I agree, how will we get the needlejet to you and how will you get Allardyce to us?"

"Our island is really two small continents, connected by a small isthmus. The upper continent contains a large monsoon jungle. In a clearing in the middle of this jungle our engineers will construct a landing strip, about half way between your Admiralty base and our new base of Velvetgrass Point. We will have a supply of fuel there for you. Wing Commander Allardyce has explained that your newer jets are powered by Ionized Deuterium. We cannot supply that, but enriched Uranium is within our capabilities, so your 'gift' would need to be one of your older fission needlejets, not a fusion one. We will send your pilot and Allardyce back to you the same way we brought him here, transported on one of our indigenous units that we call an Isle of the Deep. It would take around three days for them to make the journey to your Admiralty base"

Santiago made a snap decision.

"Agreed", she said. "Have your technicians send the co-ordinates of the landing strip to us when it is ready for use."

"Agreed", said Deirdre. "Walk with Planet, Corazon."

"Yeah, you too, Deirdre. Santiago out".

She cut the commlink, and turned to her aide:

"Ayola", she commanded, "Tell the unit commanders that Googlie will be back at his desk within the week. Make sure that the SAF gives this Isle of the Deep, or whatever, adequate coverage as it gets within range. See if Southern Command has a naval vessel that can play sheepdog with it."

Ayola hastened to comply.

Santiago pondered how she could keep her part of the bargain. She dialed up Brewster on her commlink.

"Hello, this had better be good, calling at this time in the mor…. Oh, Good morning Colonel. I was not expecting a call from you so early. Actually I was not expecting a call from you at all. What can I do?" Brewster prattled on.

Santiago quickly briefed him on her talk with Deirdre and the decision she had made.

"That's great news," said Brewster. "It'd have to be one of our two fission interceptors, as all our penetrators are rejigged as close support for the Rolling Thunder Division. And we're short of crew right now with your niece out somewhere dodging Hive troops. But I'll see what we can do. I'll get Slats Miller on the commlink right away".

'Ah, yes. Julia', thought Santiago. 'I wonder what she's doing right now.'

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

Julia woke up as dawn first peeked over the horizon. The rover was comfortable enough, with crew bunks to sleep on, and it certainly beat the three nights of sleeping in the open when she and Googlie had first been shot down.

She had traveled south east until she had reached the coast, then turned east to follow the coastline to Admiralty Base. The problem had been the base itself. It was offshore, the first sea base the Spartan Federation had built, and it was about three clicks offshore. She doubted her ability to swim that far, and in any event to abandon the rover was criminal, as it would surely fall into Hive hands or become infested with mindworms if left too long unattended.

So she struck north east, following the coastline, round the two or three bays that delineated the eastern shoreline of the continent. She had stopped last night about halfway between Pointa Sur and Blast Rifle Crag in her estimation. She reckoned she was about a days long drive from either one. BRC had an airstrip whereas Pointa Sur didn't, so that made up her mind for her.

Her drive north was uneventful, and soon she was rumbling past the outlying farms of the base. She had commlinked ahead to advise of her coming, and had been told to go right to the airbase, which she did, and reported for duty.

Morales, the Duty officer greeted her:

"Flying Officer Santiago, welcome. I expect you would like a long shower and a change of clothes. Allow me to offer you the hospitality of my humble home - we have had your sizes advised us, and a fresh uniform is being readied right now. After you have washed and eaten, now that our storm has abated you are to fly our small training aircraft to Fort Superiority where Alan Watt awaits you with fresh orders."

"Thank you", said Julia. "I have been out of touch for several days. Has Wing Commander Allardyce returned?"

"No, but he will shortly. If I may be so bold I think that you might have a part to play in his return."

'Hmmmmm' thought Julia. 'I wonder what the old galoot has been up to.'

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

Googlie sat across the table from Deirdre Skye and raised his glass in a toast.

"To the confusion of our enemies and the friendship of the Spartans and the Gaians".

"I can drink to that", Deirdre replied.

The meal had been frugal, but the distilled spirits were passable. Not quite up to Morgan Breweries standards, but still left a buzz on the palate and in the head.

"If I may ask a favor, Lady, I would be in your debt", said Googlie.

"Ask", she said. "Whether I have the power to grant it is another."

"Oh, it is simple. I would like to use one of your recording devices to put down my thoughts and impressions of the last few days while they are fresh in my memory."

As he said this, he ruffled the tendrils of the passive mindworm bunched at his feet. It wriggled with pleasure, and the thought came hesitantly into Googlie's mind

'muchlike….enjoy company earthgooglie….sad to part'

"Yeah, me too" he said audibly.

"Pardon?" queried Deirdre

"Oh, just talking to old Alphonse here," he replied. "That's part of what I want to record."

Lady Deirdre smiled at him.

"Yes, Scott, we all felt strange when the indigenous life forms started communicating with us, and we with them, but it seems so natural now. Of course you may have the recorder you need. It is important that planet's story be heard by as many of us interlopers as possible. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go and look after some affairs of state. Ask Steven for what you need."

She rose from the table, bidding him goodnight, and left for her study.

Googlie went to find Steven to get the recorder.

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

Tokek Belerang · July 22, 1999, 05:47

Sheila Cartesius re-read in her mind the instructions the Gecko had left her, and shook her head. It just didn't add up. But here she was in an anteroom of the CinC's cabinet, waiting until the cabinet chief's interview with the XO was over, wondering what the hell was going to happen next.

Meanwhile inside, the XO was facing some tricky questions. What could he tell? What he knew? Tricky, indeed.

His contact at Morgan News had asked him for a comment on the unexpected reappearance of the Gaians. It had taken all of his experience with journalists, chopper jocks and other bloody maggots to keep his wits about him and come up with a credible semblance of amused surprise. He had chatted amiably with the journo for a couple of minutes, then terminated the link. Right away the link bleeped again, and the gold and black emblem of CinC cabinet flashed - the chief of cabinet requested an interview. Please to attend. End of communication.

The XO had gotten onto a contact in Command, close to but not inside the cabinet, and learnt many things - after a promise of delivery of assorted Unity spirits.

Deirdre had indeed officially popped up again. Allardyce was with her. There would be a trade of some sorts. The XO had been flabberghasted to learn that CinC had not known about the Gaians' continued existence. He himself had known about it for ages, only had been sworn to secrecy by the Gecko. The Gecko had told him there was a secret Spartan/Gaian pact.

The thought of the Gecko keeping information from CinC was utterly incredible. He had told him himself how he had encountered a young Spartan in uncharted territory, a pilot of Allardyce's Fourth Wing. Stephen Cartesius, indeed Sheila's brother, had crashed more or less right into Pholus Ridge, and had survived. And he didn't want to come back to Sparta. He had been taken up by Gaian refugees, and he lived with them now. This was how the Gecko's contacts with the Gaians had started, and until now the XO had always believed that he had filled CinC in on every detail. And Trawler McMillan? In on it as well? Also fooled by the Gecko? Incredible.

But either CinC indeed hadn't known, or CinC cabinet was doublechecking stories. What to do? They would interview Sheila next, and she knew enough to give the game away. He could not take the risk. The XO resolved to tell everything.

Except about Lindly. He hoped to god Sheila didn't know about her.

He started explaining how a demon boil Isle of the Deep, carrying six mature mindworm boils, could have come in the possession of Sparta's North Fleet, and was now heading to the Hive front under the direction of their brood trainer, Stephen Cartesius.

What the hell was going on? Was there a fifth column? Was the junta edging out Santiago? Was it just the Gecko? Burge? Nothing had been heard from Burge in ages. Dread? Gone completely underground. Allardyce? Hobnobbing with the Gaians! Atreus? Zak knew what that old battle-axe could be up to. From what old soldiers told of him, Atreus had been just to the right of Attila the Hun on the Unity, and had only joined the Spartans because there wasn't anything MORE militaristic.

The XO tried to keep a grip on himself. He concentrated on the chief of cabinet's sober, investigative questioning, and kept his answers on the level and to the point. Carefully omitting Lindly.

------------------
Numquam turbae misceri

korn469 · July 22, 1999, 05:54

Club Lucifer, Morgan Metagenics

god money i'll do anything for you.
god money just tell me what you want me to.
god money nail me up against the wall.
god money don't want everything he wants it all.

no you can't take it
no you can't take it
no you can't take that away from me
no you can't take it
no you can't take it
no you can't take that away from me

head like a hole.
black as your soul.
i'd rather die than give you control.
head like a hole.
black as your soul.
i'd rather die than give you control.

bow down before the one you serve.
you're going to get what you deserve.
bow down before the one you serve.
you're going to get what you deserve.

god money's not looking for the cure.
god money's not concerned with the sick among the pure.
god money let's go dancing on the backs of the bruised.
god money's not one to choose
no you can't take it
no you can't take it
no you can't take that away from me...

Head like a hole, NIN
datalinks

Kali rubbed her bloodshot eyes and took a drink of water. She was playing a very old song yet she liked the feel of the song. The lyrics were perfect for the hedonistic society she lived in, it's only concern was wealth. She knew too many people that were either self absorbed or were consumed by money. She didn't know if it was day or night, in fact she didn't know what day it was. All she knew was that she had been awake for over 36 hours (maybe it was 48) and that she wasn't about to fall asleep. She was tired but couldn't sleep, some of her sences were razor sharp even now, while the rest of her body had almost shut down.

Above her music pulsed and droned back and forth. The party never ended never slowed down. It didn't matter what day it was, it didn't matter what time someone was always in the club. Morgan Metagenics was known for its entertainment and tourist form all over Chiron treked here. However Club Lucifer was in a section of the city that few tourist ever saw. Drone riots were common in this part of the city and many of the buildings looked burnt out. However inside of the ruins (or down below like in this case) there was activity.

Morgan Metagenics had one of the largest recreational drug industries on Chiron, safe and enjoyable was the motto of the industry. However here among the drones many controlled substances were widely available. Kali was on the backend of what the drones called an orgy, that's what they called it when a group had CEX. CEX was one of the most popular drugs among the drones. It was a stimulant that simulated various opiates in the body. It also had pyschoactive properties, one of which was increased empathy. The basic effects on a person was increased energy levels, decreased stress, increased sensitivy to stimuli, many often had mild hallucinations, and then most striking effect was the mild ability to read minds. It wasn't real mind reading but you could project your thoughts and others coulds feel your emotions and a few people with innate natural ability could actually read minds. Usually an entire group would "blitz" at the same time, and they would all experiance each other blitzin.

Everyone who had started blitzin with her were upstairs in the club but she could still feel them, and if she wasn't concentrating so hard she could have stayed in complete harmony with them. She was concentrating, trying to keep them out of her mind, but it wasn't working that well. She had important things to do, she was after all a Major in the URF (University Resistance Front).

A long time ago she'd been been a two year old right before the Spartan Armed Forces overtook Zolto-Gold (they renamed it Fort Superiority) her father had escaped with her but the rest of her family wasn't as lucky. Her mother had been butchered by the Spartans and her older brother was brainwashed by the evil Spartans (proof of that was he was a member of the Spartan Army). Now as an ex-patriot of the University she was fighting back. As a member of the URF she had vowed not to stop until each and every bit of University territory had been liberated. Except at times she felt more Morgan than University.

Her fingers did the fighting. Finally! The screen open it's secrets, it went from the Access Restricted screen to the Access Accepted screen. With a few quick keystrokes she caused the network node at Jannisary Rock to completely shut down and lock itself into a high security mode that only she knew the password too. The security protocals were new but now that she saw how they worked she knew it could be repeated until they instituted new protocals.

Suddenly she felt like she'd been poked really hard. In reality it was just Devin reaching out to her, he was probably a natural empath. He started blitzing her with images of the lights upstairs and she sat back and just enjoyed what he was projecting to her...
[This message has been edited by korn469 (edited July 22, 1999).]

Tokek Belerang · July 22, 1999, 07:12

The Gecko received the message during the dying moments of the storm. It was a pre-arranged signal - an empty message, just a bleep, just enough to flush the commlink screen blue. Code blue. Return immediately. It meant that something had come up that was more important than what he was doing now. Therefore, XO was of the opinion that Googlie Allardyce could wait. The Gecko got down from his shelter, and quickly cleared the camouflage from his needlejet.

Keeping the jet low, the Gecko's thoughts unavoidably turned to Lindly. What else? What else would XO consider more important to him than Googlie's life right now?

------------------
Numquam turbae misceri

Velociryx · July 23, 1999, 04:22

The line spat and sputtered with static. Nothing more.

Gavin tinkered with the wiring a bit, then threw his hands up in disgust. He drew in a deep breath and started for the umpteenth time.

Private Lewis nearly came out of his chair at the Fort Soup monitoring station when he picked up the signal.

"This is...eld Ma...hal Gav.....Burge.....o anyone.....Spartan Co...and....hear me....the 47th division is....ct, I repeat....act...."

There might have been more to the message, but it was impossible to boost the gain enough to hear it....plus with the storm's distortion, he couldn't quite make it out.....did he say they were under attack? The storm made it likely that the battle sounds would be masked, but even Yang would be hard pressed to force his men to the offensive in all this.

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, wondering what to do. Ultimately, he decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and he all but sprinted from the room to get Captain Hyler.
****

"There....at least we tried." Gavin said heavily. Damnned thing's all shot to Hell and back.

"It'll be fine....you'll see." Elizabeth Thompson told him. " And all the strangeness we've encountered in this storm would make quite a story someday."

"Harumph." Was about the best he could do for a reply. "Have the Dragons gotten back yet?"

She shook her head.

"And still no way to find out where my other commanders are? If we've got the entire division rallying at Fort Superiority?"

"No. Not til the storm ends. We've always known that the fungus made radio communications a little garbled, and it seems Monoliths do the same thing on a larger scale."

He nodded absently. "Well, when they get back in from their rounds, make sure they understand my standing order."

"Don't touch nothing." She said, trying his voice on for size, and not doing a half bad job of it.

He grumbled, trying to cover the grin that threatened (it was always so difficult to stay mad with her around), and went to find his cot. Nothing worse than being cooped up for two solid days. In a creepy alien place, no less.

He was an old man. Should have been out fishing, not that this was any weather for it.

Watching Morgan News then, or some re-runs, or something, but inside a Monolith? His days of adventure were over.

He shook his head, not quite sure which was worse. Being cooped up in here, or the flack he'd take for having gone mysteriously missing all during the storm.

[author's note: Yes, I know....shoot me, I've been away.....there will be more, but I wanted you guys to know that I was still alive....] :-)

Hydro · July 23, 1999, 09:01

2nd Armor Division ‘Rolling Thunder’, Spartan Faction, Rover 21 ‘Lightning’, Great Fungal Wall

‘I’m going crazy,’ Markus thought, ‘I’ve been resting in my cubby for only an hour, and I am going nuts!’

Markus looked around the livquarters of the rover in irritation. His cubby was a little less than 2/3 of a meter in height and a little more than 2 meters long, barely enough to roll over in and not nearly enough space in which to sit up. There were three cubbies in a single bank along the left side of the iris valve entrance. The far wall contained the retractable table and chairs and autochef, and the right wall consisted of storage lockers and spare parts. ‘Very Spartan,’ Markus thought ruefully. ‘Still, I have it a lot better than the infantry grunts. They have to live and sleep in the fungus and mud. Some of the poor bastards even like it. Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.’

‘No, I hate it because I’m board stiff. I can’t sleep, and I’m board,’ he thought as he tried to lie back in his bunk and relax. He stared at the top of his cubby, which was the bottom of Mary’s cubby. Markus started to fidget.

Unable to stand it any longer, Markus rolled out of his cubby to walk around the three whole square meters of floor space in the livquarters. He walked over to the iris valve and briefly considered reporting for duty, and immediately dismissed it from his mind since Rao would eat him alive. He didn’t want to think was Mary would do to him. Reproach? Disappointment? Scold? Cold shoulder? Brrrrr. Not worth it. It was a little amusing, he thought to himself, that I am more concerned of crossing Mary than Rao.

He walked over to the over side of the livquarters and hit the wall stud to activate the table and bench, which folded silently out of the wall and stopped with an audible click. He sat down on the bench closest to his cubby. ‘Well, I’m not hungry since Mary gave me my breakfast by throwing it at me,’ Markus reminded himself with a smile.

“I’m avoiding the obvious,” Markus said aloud, reproving himself. A lot had happened, and he usually didn’t have the luxury of time off to think about it. Those blasted mindworms had made him remember some deeply buried childhood memories. Why those memories? Because they were intensely traumatic? He knew mindworms played on your deepest fears, so that might be it. How old was I? Four, maybe five? And who were my parents, and why did they abandon me? Markus felt hurt, even though the only parents he had ever known he knew loved him deeply and were back on a mechfarm at Assassin’s Redoubt. These other parents were shadows, but it still felt like something was missing. All he really had were questions. And then there was his tattoo – a link with his past.

‘Well, maybe I can do something about that,’ Markus thought as he activated the rover datalinks. ‘These datalinks are pretty limited, but they may help pass the time, at least.’

*Rover 21 datalinks activated. Turn toward the optisensor for retinal scan* a pleasant voice requested.

Markus turned toward the optiport and opened his eyes for the scan.

*Identity Lieutenant Markus Aurelius confirmed, pilot assigned to 2nd Armor Rover 21, under the command of Captain Rao Kosarau. Select datalinks interaction mode:
* Manual/verbal
* Eye-cursor
* Eye-cursor and manual/verbal
* VR
* Direct (warning – restricted equipment required for direct linkage)

Markus didn’t want to bother getting out the VR gloves and goggles, or the eye-cursor focus, so he selected manual/verbal.

He presented his bare upper right arm to the optisensor. “Identify the image on my upper right arm.”

*The image on your upper right arm is 93% probable to be a tattoo representing intertwined rose stems with red rose blooms*

“Use this image to perform an image and subject search,” Markus commanded.

*There are 435 records and images directly related to this image* the datalinks computer responded.

“Display the three most highly correlated records and images,” Markus said as he turned toward the wall. Three images and text appeared in a series of small panels on the wall above the table.

Image 1 showed a rose bush with red blooms, which rotated slowly to show all angles. A female voice said, “Any of the genus Rosa, a prickly or thorny shrub native to Earth with pinnate leaves, which are frequently doubled. Blooms are delicate and come in a multitude of colors, some of which are bioengineered to…”

Image 2 was a geometric figure, accompanied by the explanation, “A plane curve which consists of three or more loops meeting at the origin whose equation in polar coordinates is in the form…”

Image 3 was a picture of a strange city and a beautiful but ageless woman walking in a stand of white pines, “The red rose intertwined with rose stems is the symbol of the presumed exterminated Gaian faction that once colonized Planet. This pacifist faction was lead by the Unity biologist and geneticist Lady Deirdre Sky, who took environmental and planet protection to militant extremes. She and her weak faction were eliminated during military action by the Hive on M.Y. 2175…”

Markus caught his breath. Gaians?!! Is that what I am? A Gaian? Markus was stunned.

Images from his dreams/memories raced through his head: playing in the fungus, the strange buildings that were made from or were fungus, his pet mindworm Fluffy, the strange clothing. It did make some sense.

Still, I am a Spartan. I was raised a Spartan. I was taught to be a Spartan. Everything I love and honor is Spartan. Yes, I am a Spartan, Markus reassured himself.

Am I?

Velociryx · July 23, 1999, 15:43

"The storm seems to be blowing itself out, sir." Elizabeth said quietly, looking out through one of the *portholes* at the side of the Monolith.

Gavin grunted in response. "Good. Been cooped up in here for a helluva lot longer than I’d wanted to be."

She smiled at him. "You know you’ve loved it."

"Oh yes, about as much as I enjoyed.....well, never mind." He blushed, and she giggled.

"Dragons are back." ‘Sparks’ Wheeler called in a too-cheerful voice.

"Good man, and about time, too. Thought you might have turned into worm food."

He shook his head. "No sir, but we did manage to scout out the rest of the Fungal Wall. No sign of troops anywhere here, but we did find the blasted out remains of a Hive Recon Rover."

Gavin nodded. "That makes sense. No big surprise that a little vehicle like that could get bogged down in here....we would have had a helluva time getting in here if not for the Pile Drivers."

As if summoned by the mentioning of his pride and joy, Huey Brinkman came in, all smiles. "Did somebody mention my Pile Drivers? See, I told you they had great military potential....now, if we could just get the rest of Sparta Command to listen to reason...."

"Yeah, yeah.....that’ll be the day." Gavin sighed heavily. "Sometimes I feel like the whole system is breaking down. The Spartans stand for strength and honor....both good things, that is true, but the command structure is getting all shaky. Too many Independent Princes."

"Aren’t you one of those?" Elizabeth asked playfully. Too much time cooped up together. It was making them less than formal. That would have to change. Things were dicey. Too many unknowns.

"Yes, perhaps I am. But right now, we need to get it together people. We don’t know precisely where the Hive forces are, or how many may be inside Spartan territory. About all we know for sure is that none of them have come back this way to leave."

"What’s the plan, Sir?" Sparks asked him, the training and professionalism kicking in automatically. That was good to see. A good sign.

"I want to try something a little bit different. Bring the other company commanders in here."

They were assembled within two minutes.

Waiting.

"Okay....no secret that we got hammered by that sudden storm. Radio’s all haywire, and we’re working on that. Soon as the storm’s over, we’ll send a team out to our side of the Fungal Wall and radio our current situation. Until then, I want to make the most of our unique position. We’re gonna do what we do best.....improvise a little."

He paused for a moment, collecting himself. No one had ever suggested a thing such as he was proposing.

"I know the fungus itself grows too quickly to give us much in the way of landmarks, but we found this Monolith here, and we can use it as a base point....and maybe that rocky outcropping north of here....even with the fungus all over it, you can still tell where it is. It’s a landmark."

Sparks smiled at him. "You want us to make a map of the interior of the Fungal Wall."

Gavin nodded.

"Brilliant." He said with a smile.

"Nawww....not really brilliant, but we’re here, and we’re alone. If we can learn the terrain inside and out, we’ll have a big edge over anybody else that comes bumbling in here. And Brinkman, I want your Pile Drivers to destroy that road. That’s a landmark for them....we don’t need that. Any Hive forces that come through here, I want them to be stumbling around blind. Any of our forces coming through will have the benefits of our maps....as soon as we make them, so here’s what I want. Now that we know a little bit about the Monolith, I want both Phalanxes to set up here. We’ll use this as our command post. Dragons and Crushers will be dedicated to mapping out as much of the interior as we can. Banks, as soon as the storm breaks, I want you and the Rovers back on our side of the Wall with the radio. Get word of our position to them and tell them we’ll be checking back every 48 hours for updates and reports. Other than that, we’ll be at radio silence while we’re in here.....not that it would do them any good to try to reach us anyway.....questions?"

"Where to you want the artillery support?" Hobbes asked.

"The rocky outcropping." Tell you what, borrow one Rover from Banks, and a Platoon from Crusher One. We’ll put Ian Allardyce in command of the platoon, artillery defense. It’s the least I can do, considering the likely fate of his father."

The room was silent. He had told them about Sand.

"And that’s another thing, people. He may be lurking around in here somewhere. We’ve not seen any troop movement, but Sand would operate alone. You see anything strange, and I mean anything at all, you get back to your unit. I don’t want anybody trying to play the hero....Sand’s a one-man wrecking crew. He’ll eat even the toughest man in the unit for breakfast, and that’s no joke. Understand me?"

There were nods all around.

"Okay, snap to it. We’ve got work to do."

The filed out, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
***

So strange, the last few days.

First the freak storm. Probably not so freak, but they didn’t have up to the minute access to weather information in the field, and it had taken them by surprise. The pressure tents were simply blown over, and they certainly couldn’t all fit in the command vehicle, so the Fungus Bed had been the only alternative. Then they found the Monolith. Not only that, but it *opened* for them. And *then* they found out they could fit the entire unit inside, nevermind that it didn’t look that big.

When it closed in on them, he had been a little worried, and it had taken them the better part of a day to get the damned thing opened back up again, but he could feel the intelligence of the thing. It seemed to almost be guiding them. Helping them. And yet, he could sense that it was keeping its secrets. Only revealing a small portion of itself to them. He could sense that there was much more to the place than the nearly endless chamber he and the troops were allowed to see, but that was just the thing. The Monolith was almost alive. It revealed only what it wished to reveal.

He grunted again, and looked toward the high, vaulted ceiling. “Well, thank you for giving us a dry place to stay, anyway.” He said to the room.

Silence was his only answer.
***

"Sir, just got word from the Sparta Command...." Banks was chattering excitedly on her short range to him. It was static-laden and hard to make out, but she was close enough that the signal penetrated the Fungal Wall, so long as he was outside the Monolith.

"What’s the situation?"

"Seems they don’t know much more than we do. There *are* forces inside Spartan Territory, but no one’s got a firm lock on their position."

"That’s an affirmative on forces inside Spartan Territory?"

"Yes Sir, and some of them are heading this way."

Gavin froze. "Get your people out of there. I want you back here, triple time, understood? And get a force count before you leave!"

"On my way, sir. And I can make out eleven different company battle standards. Looks like they’re intending on heading back through the Fungus to wherever their base is."

Eleven companies.

And he had six. Counting the artillery.

He chewed on that for a moment.

"Okay, change in plans. Do they look like they’ve seen any action?"

"I can see scorch marks on their armor, yes Sir. Looks like they’ve been doing some scrapping."

He thought for a moment, weighing his options. They were badly outnumbered, that was true, but they also were in the fungus undetected. Maps or no, that was a strong advantage.

"Okay, Banks, here’s the plan. If they haven’t spotted you yet, make sure they do. I want them to see you running parallel to the fungus. Play like you’re having engine trouble or something and it’s slowing you down. Make them believe you’re heading for a unit north of here. They’ll want to catch you before you do, and you’ll make them think they can. I want you to duck into the Fungus for cover, like you’re trying to evade their pursuit. We’ll cook up a little surprise for them."

"Yes Sir, Banks out. See you in a bit, Commander." He could almost hear her smiling. She loved a good game of cat and mouse.

He spun around in the command chair and got his other company commanders on-line. "Crushers One and Two, I want you up close to our side of the fungal wall. You will make our first line. Banks is coming in fast, and she’s bringing company for dinner. Get ready to receive them. You’ll have the element of surprise, but I don’t want you to stick around long. I want them to believe they’re facing a vastly inferior force. I want them to chase you back here."

"Sparks here, Sir. Where do you want the Dragons?"

"Flanking position. As soon as they start running in after the Crusher Units, you fall in behind them. Don’t fire until you hear Hobbes’ guns going off.....you got that Hobbes. And *you* don’t fire till you see the whites of their eyes."

"Yes Sir, we’ll be ready for them."

"We’re outnumbered, people, and I know that surrounding a larger force is a little unconventional, but we’ve got the terrain on our side, and the fact that we’re fresh and they’re not. I don’t want anybody making it back to Hive Territory. The strength in our position lies in the fact that nobody knows we’re here. Let’s keep it that way."

He paused for a moment to let it all sink in, then continued. "Crusher Units, I want you to do a running firefight back to the Monolith, Banks will drive ahead of you. Pile Drivers, make sure they’ve got a good, clean line back, but don’t make it too obvious, if you get my meaning, and then park back here around the Monolith. We’ll use the damned things as cover if we need them."

"Pile Drivers already dispatched. I’m on it." Came the crisp reply.

Good people, his men. He allowed himself a grim smile.

"Okay people....show time. Let’s be sharp out there. No mistakes."

The show was about to begin.
***

Kuruk · July 23, 1999, 18:23

Captain Dimitriov:

Though I am sure you have received my official communiqué, let me personally congratulate you on your recent promotion. I have the greatest confidence in you, both as a leader and as a soldier. Let me also personally congratulate you on the commissioning of the 10th NCM Brigade. Your artillery and probe team support units are currently en route to Admiralty base, where you will rendezvous. I have handpicked the personnel, and can assure you that they are the best in the Amp. Corp.
I would advise you to keep your troops at the highest state of readiness. An invasion of Hive sea and beachhead bases is currently in the planning stage. This mission is of great strategic importance to the balance of naval power, and to the war effort as a whole.
I am sure that you do not need to be reminded that the Spartan Federation accords the U.N. Charter the highest respect. As such, any invasion of Hive territory will be conducted with non-lethal gas munitions.

Your Fellow Soldier,

General Motohiro Honshu, 2nd Division, Spartan Amphibious Corp.

korn469 · July 25, 1999, 11:46

INSERT COMMERCIAL 2225/83/5/37.124 (Original) (1:13:26)
INSERT COMMERCIAL 2225/83/8/34.628 (Original) (1:45:17)
INSERT COMMERCIAL 2225/83/6/38.k.1.3.9 (1:03:09)

eXeCuTiNg SeLf eXtRaCtInG ApPz...
iNsTaLLiNg...
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iNsTaLLaTi0n SuCeSsFuL!
rUnNiNg ApPz

ThNx!
p0wErEd bY cHa0s VeR.1.3.9

PLANET NET NEWS (PNN)
brought to you by years of Spartan occupation and hundreds of Spartan atrocities

"Citizens of Chiron, I am Ilya Koptev spokesperson for the University of Planet in exile. Yesterday members of the URF shut down the Network Node at Jannisary Rock. They take full responsibility for this action. They have the ability to shutdown every Network Node on Chiron, and they will begin this process starting with Spartan Federation Network Nodes unless our demands are met. We do not wish for this to happen, and any government that renounces the Spartan Federation and provides aid to our cause will not be a target of the URF's attacks."

The spokes-person was an old man who had a regal look about him. Before the Spartan-University war Ilya had been on Zakharov's Advisory committee. Although a scientist at heart he quickly warmed to the science of politics after the University arrived on Chiron. He had been one of Zakharov's most trusted political advisors and he was the only member of the Advisory Committee to escape from the Spartan. Presumed dead, his re-emergence on the political scene had ushered in the creation of the University of Planet in exile. Shortly thereafter various pro-University terrorist organization started attacking the Spartan Federation.

"Here is a list of our demands." He spoke with a soft voice, yet if you looked in his eyes you could see the strength of character he possessed. He had been a lifelong friend of Zakharov and was completely loyal to him.

1. We want the Spartan Federation to remove it's forces from all territory originally claimed by the University of Planet. This includes turning all captured University bases over to UoP authorities.

2. We want an accounting of all University Prisoners of War. The Spartan Federation is currently in violation of the U.N. Charter in reguards to providing a comprehensive list of the wherabout and conditions of all POWs in it's custody. If the Spartan Federation executed any of these prisoners we demand for the U.N. Warcrimes Tribunal to start a warcrimes investigation of this matter.

3. We want to know the whereabouts of Academician Prokhor Zakharov. He has been missing since the Spartan Federation occupied University Base. We want to know the where he is and what condition he is in. We want a full accounting of his imprisonment. If he is still alive we demand his release. If however, he has been executed we demand for the U.N. Warcrimes Tribunal to start a warcrimes investigation of this matter.

4. We demand that the Spartan Federation pay the Univerity of Planet repreations for the damage caused by their forces during the Spartan war of aggression against the University of Planet. Also we demand that the Spartan Federation pay repreations to the University of Planet for damages caused during the years of their occupation. The exact amount of these repreations will be decided upon later in negociations.

5. We demand that the Spartan Federation release the names of all University dissedents arrested by the Spartan Internal Security forces. We also demand to know the conditions they endured while imprisoned. If these dissadents were executed we demand for the U.N. Warcrimes Tribunal to start a warcrimes investigation of this matter.

6. We demand an official public appology from Colonel Santiago on behalf of the Spartan Federation to the University of Planet.

7. We...

transmission terminated

"Damn Kurt! How long do you think that was running?" Martin Agular frantically asked his co-worker.

"I dunno Marty. Not long. God I hope it wasn't long. We just went out for coffee and it was on when we came back. It hasn't been long." He was in a state of panic. His supervisor wouldn't take a breech of security like this lightly. Heads were going to roll.

"I got the backup feed running. There will be complaints I know there will. I swear I didn't do anything wrong." Martin's palms were sweaty, and his mouth was dry.

"Marty look at this. What in the hell is this third commercial doing in the system, and what is that k.1.3.9 crap at the end of it? Commercials never have letters in their ID."

"I dunno Kurt. But I bet you that's what caused this. It wasn't in the system earlier."

"I know it wasn't."

They both looked at each other, working for MorganNews was a good job, but having something akin to a international incident happen on your shift would most likely destroy their careers. They both knew they were finished at MorganNews. An even worse thought crossed Kurt's mind. They could be charged for criminal neglect because of this. Why did it have to happen on their shift! Thankfully the backup feed was working properly. It hadn't been on for too long...

rUnNiNg ApPz
tRaNsMiSsIoN sIgNaL l0sT
eXeCuTiNg SeLf dEsTrUcTiNg ApPz...
dEsTrUcTiNg...
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dEsTrUcTi0n SuCeSsFuL!

Ab0rT, ReTrY, fAiL?

"Kurt, the screen went dead! Are we still transmitting?" His heart felt like it was going to explode.

"No we lost the signal! We're off the air. I'm checking..." Kurt was trying to stay calm, but it wasn't working. "Damnit! We're so screwed! We are sooo screwed!"

"What's wrong? Please tell me something is still transmitting. Kurt did we only lose one signal? Something is still transmitting right? Right?!" Except instead of reassuing Marty that something was still transmitting Kurt just stood there, his hands on his head.

"We're screwed..." The entire MorganNews Network had crashed

BEEP BEEP

"You going to get that?" They looked at each other again, but neither one of them moved to answer.
[This message has been edited by korn469 (edited July 25, 1999).]

Hydro · July 25, 1999, 13:20

Outside Assassin's Redoubt, Spartan Territory

Assassin's Redoubt's Military Governor Helen Tobias led her two aids, Coronal Hessain Massane and Senior Scientist Andre Zahrenov, as they walked through a wooded area northwest of Assassin's Redoubt. General Tobias was on an inspection tour - she was a firm believer in hand-on management. To do less would be a dereliction of duty. Her aids walked approximately a meter in back of her, one on each side. For the moment they walked in silence.

The forests surrounding Assassin's Redoubt were, undoubtedly, its greatest resource and were the reason that the small continent was called the Emerald Isle. During initial exploration of the continent, the Spartan X-force had found that a Unity pod had started planting trees shortly after landing, and the forest had been healthy and expanding at the time of its discovery. After over a hundred years almost the entire southern half of the continent was covered by beautiful forest ecosystems of all descriptions: hardwood maples, oaks and elms in temperate seasonal areas; coniferous pines and ponderosa in moist to dry higher elevations; acacias and grasses in arid and dry locales; scrub forest chaparral in lower dry elevations; occasional fruit trees planted in groves ready for colonists; and even spruce and cedar temperate rain forests along the southwestern coast. These temperate rain forests contained the greatest prize - redwoods! By some fluke the redwoods are superbly adapted to the Chiron environment, with a growth rate easily four times the bioengineered norm. Few could venture within these great forests without feeling their pull and remembering all that was lost on far away Earth.

Governor Tobias inspection was not in the treasured redwoods groves today. That tour had occurred seven years ago after she had been assigned to Assassin's Redoubt to restore order after an unpleasant period of instability. Her methods were harsh, but fair. In addition to order, Tobias believed that Spartan citizens were her greatest asset and had to be managed accordingly. Some had to be culled. The rest were given the tools for personal growth and facilities to ensure the minimum of contentment, since their increased skills led to greater productivity. The citizenry respected and admired General Tobias, most of them, anyway.

The latest improvement was Helen's grandest project: a tree farm. If her scientific advisors were correct, and they had better be, the improvement in food production would be significant and would help bring up growth and contentment, which was lagging due to lack of foodstuffs. Earlier this year her advisors had stated that it would take up to 10 years to finish the project. Recent developments suggested this had changed, and this was the reason for the inspection.

Governor Tobias held up her hand to stop the procession and strode over to the hillside outlook that viewed Assassin's Redoubt and its warrens, its few farms, and the trees covering the landscape. There were plumes of smoke or dust coming from areas all around the city. Personal and cargo transports could be seen flying frantically back and forth from the city and forest to an area to the north toward the Great Fungal Wall. The impression was of frantic haste.

"This is a superb view of Assassin's Redoubt, Dr. Zahrenov, but I trust you have some other reason for this inspection that you requested?" Helen said as she turned toward her aids. Although there was a stiff breeze blowing, not a single hair was out of place from her military-reg bun at the back of her head and here clothes were undisturbed. Her graying black hair contrasted sharply with her military uniform. Her sharp features made her look something like Coronal Corazon Santiago. Helen certainly had her bearing. She gave an imperious stare to each minister, in turn, to prompt and answer.

"Well, as a matter of fact there is, Helen," Andre stated with a grin. Of all the Governor's aids he was the most informal, to the point of insubordination. He had been a senior scientist with the University of Planet faction before the Spartans had assimilated it, and the University's idea of protocol was significantly different from Spartan views. Like most true scientists, he did not particularly care about politics and was happy to continue his scientific pursuits, even if it was under new management.

"The first is over to your left. I'm sure you didn't notice it," Andre prompted with a little proud excitement in his voice. All three scanned the area to their left. The Coronal and Governor saw nothing. "We have integrated our forest monitoring sensors and harvesters with the forest. Each is disguised or integrated with a tree. Impressive, no?" Both Helen and Hessain gave Andre an irritated stare. They obviously were not impressed. "Hmph, well the aesthetics of the wooded areas won't be disturbed this way, and they will allow for better management of the resources and minimize destruction during harvesting and optimize growth," Andre continued.

'Why don't they appreciate the elegance of the sensor and their efficiency? Our data collection will be increased several orders of magnitude. These sensors are allowing this extraordinary inspection,' Andre thought to himself. 'I am wasting my breath on these thickheaded military types. Better move on.'

"Secondly," Andre continued, "I believe that if you look up and north you will see it coming over the horizon," Zahrenov continued. As they looked north a low roar was audible and a dark point did appear on the horizon. It grew rapidly, and it was clear it was enormous. Andre was obviously very happy. Even the normally dour and taciturn Coronal Hessain Massane stepped forward in anticipation.

Slung below the cargo air transport was a great cylindrical object. At 500 meters it became clear it was the fusion power supply discovered in the Unity pod located in the Great Fungal Wall by one of the rovers in 2nd Armor 'Rolling Thunder'.

"Helen, the energy from the temporary Unity power supply discovered in the pod, intended for the first colonists, will provide a huge boost to Assassin's Redoubt's efforts to finish the tree farm. No more debilitating energy conservation measures that slow our progress! It will only last a year or so, but that is of no matter. Assuming, of course, you continue to approve of the project," Andre added hastily. Helen nodded. "Moreover, the unique Earth-origin high tech machine tools and software discovered in the pod will to be sold to the Morgan trading group MicroTrade based out of Morgan Industries for a nice sum. The remaining components of the tree farm can be purchased with these credits from a very helpful source that, coincidentally, is also from MicroTrade. I hope the Hive doesn't find out!" Andre chuckled gleefully. "This windfall should allow the tree farm to be finished by the end of the year!"

The air cargo transport passed directly overhead and the wash from the fusion air transport blew a huge gust of wind toward the trio, throwing dust and vegetation debris all around. The temporary maelstrom did not affect Helen, Andre, and Hessain.

Hessain added, "We received a communiqué from Sparta Command that ordered that all new projects are to be focused on war material. I suggest a fusion air penetrator be started. " Hessain stood stiffly at attention with his hand at his sides.

"Thank you, Coronal. I will take that under advisement. Dr. Zahrenov, I have seen enough and am confident you have things well in hand. However, due to the imminent attack by Hive forces I suggest we reconvene in the War Room," the Governor stated. Each simultaneously reached up to their temples.

******

Back in the War Room, Helen, Andre, and Hessain removed their VR goggles and gloves. An attendant appeared to take the goggles and gloves, and walked to a door to the right and exited.

"Dr. Zahrenov, you are dismissed. Coronal, assemble the senior staff," the Governor ordered, as she walked over to the holo table.

*****

In addition to Governor Tobias and Hessain Massane, two other figures were arrayed around a holo projection of Assassin's Redoubt and the surrounding territory. Assassin's Redoubt was at the southern portion of Emerald Isle, and a little inland from the coast. Surrounding the city were forests and a couple farms, and a military sensor to the north by the fungus and south in the forest. A road led south to the sea and north to the Great Fungal Wall. The Great Fungal Wall extended across the middle of the small continent north of the Assassin's Redoubt and the forests. Several new features pulsed gently, and included a north-south oriented road through the Great Fungal Wall and a blue icon north of the Great Fungal Wall indicating the Hive colony, Plex Anthill.

Brilliant light from no observable source emanated from the holotable. Other areas of the war room were dark, and the far walls couldn't be seen. The effect was that the holotable seemed to be the center of the universe, being presided over by the Gods of War.

"Hessain, present your update," Helen ordered crisply.

"For the last year or two there have been suspicions of Hive activity on the other side of the Great Fungal Wall. This great feature north of Assassin's Redoubt was largely unexplored and thought to be impenetrable. Due to increasing concerns a contingent of the Spartan 1st Expeditionary Force was dispatched, as were elements of the 2nd Armor 'Rolling Thunder'. They completed the exploration of west and center of The Great Fungal Wall and found no Hive forces or bases. Due to the pressing nature of the threat, 469 Airborne was pressed into service to complete the survey of the eastern portion of the fungus. They air dropped in. What they found was both unexpected and threatening.

"Unknown to us, the Hive has completed a road through the eastern side of the fungus. Moreover, the 469th reported that a contingent of Hive infantry was advancing toward Assassin's Redoubt on this road, and that a strong Hive rover force was entering the fungus, perhaps for a flanking maneuver. The 469th could not catch up and engage the Hive forces since they were already behind the lines in Hive territory. In true Spartan tradition, they advanced, discovered at least one Hive base, and are currently fully engaged with Hive forces," Coronal Massane stated with obvious pride and envy in his voice.

Hessain turned toward the holomap. "The Hive infantry entered the range of our northern sensor as of 2 hours ago. " On the map, a blue infantry symbol appeared on a road north of Assassin's Redoubt at the southern edge of the Great Fungal Wall. "The infantry group consists of 4 infantry units, one of which has anti-aircraft ability. All are missile fission technology. These units appear to be heading for the sensor with the intent to destroy it.

"Our information on the Hive rover group in the fungus is much more sketchy. The 469th estimated there were at least 3 rover units and that they had left the newly-constructed road and entered the fungus near the southern edge of the Great Fungal Wall," Hessain continued. Blue rover symbols appeared on the map.

"The city defensive garrison was upgraded to a fusion plasma armor garrison two years ago. We do not have a perimeter defense. Based on the forces approaching, it is improbable that the plasma garrison can withstand the assault, even with the advantage of our unit's heightened durability due to fusion verses fission technology.

"We have ordered available elements of the 2nd Armor to come to our defense. Communication with Captain Kosarau of 'Rolling Thunder' indicates that 3 chaos fusion rovers will come to our aid. The other three in his command will be sent to destroy the Hive rovers that are on an apparent flanking maneuver. Other forces at our disposal are the 2 obsolete Rolling Thunder ground support fission needlejets, one of which sustained over 50% damage while attacking a worm engaged with the Rolling Thunder rover during exploration of the Unity pod," Hessain finished. On the map, two grey Spartan rover symbols appeared on the map, one heading for the new road in the Great Fungal Wall, and the other heading toward Assassin's Redoubt. Elements of the 469th appeared north of the Great Fungal Wall in and around the Hive colony Plex Anthill.

Helen examined the map and noticed the distance between the rovers and the advancing Hive infantry. "Will the three rovers be able to make to make it to Assassin's Redoubt in time to divert the Hive attack?" Military Governor Tobias inquired.

"Based on available information and travel times, they will not arrive in time to assist in our defense," Coronal Hessain Massane stated stiffly.

"I see. Then we only have one solution. Scramble the undamaged old needlejet to pin the infantry. Instruct them that the Hive infantry have anti-aircraft capability, and they are not to attack. No heroics here, since an attack would be suicidal. Their mission is to pin and harass them until the Rolling Thunder detachment arrives. If we need to, scramble the damaged needlejet. Those infantry Must Not Get Through," Helen emphasized.

"Are there any other comments," Helen solicited.

Silence.

"Very well. Dismissed," Helen finished.

[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited July 25, 1999).]

Kuruk · July 26, 1999, 02:42

Certain people just looked like what they were. The man lurking in the shadows of Admiralty Base's warehouse district was one of them. Every minute detail, from the perpetual stubble on his angular chin, to the texture of his long black coat, to the shine on his silksteel boots. Smuggler! They shouted to anyone there to listen.
Not that Weaver worried he would be spotted. The big man thought of Admiralty Base as his home office. The right people had been paid, from members of the governor's staff down to the two drones standing watch at the intersection fifty meters away. Everyone had a need. For some it was as simple as a few energy credits. For others it was the latest military prototype or exotic drugs. Everyone had their price. Find out what it was, and anyone could be bought.
Should have been a Morganite, the man thought. Not that he didn't feel like a Spartan at heart. But he could not help feeling a little bitter toward the Federation. Twenty years of service, most of that spent on the front lines fighting the University, and all the Federation had given him was an honorable discharge, a set of robotic limbs, and a job on a former crew.
Well, that really wasn't all, the man corrected himself. The war with the University had given him opportunities as well. He had come home from the front with five hundred milligrams of Neuronex hidden in his gear bag. Neuronex was one of the more exotic drugs available, and had long been outlawed in the Spartan Federation, along with the less exciting, and more benign, recreationals from Morgan Metagenics. Weaver had never experimented with chemicals himself. He was surprised when his supply of Neuronex had brought him ten times what he had earned during the war, in under a week. That money had been enough to purchase a small foilcraft, and had sent Weaver down the road to a new career.
Drugs still provided a significant percentage of his income, but Weaver had also brached out into more profitable ventures. Military hardware was big business. Many commanders were not content with what the Federation provided them, and wanted to give their troops an edge in combat. That was the case with tonight's customer. The black market for hardware was not unusual.
This particular piece of hardware was. The smuggler pulled the ten milliliter tube out of his coat and examined it. The nanorobots inside had been one of the University's best kept secrets. The technology had been developed toward the end of the war, and had come too late to help Zakharov's faction. It still pumped out of underground labs and back alley factories in the former University bases though. As far as Weaver knew, he was the only supplier. He had only told a few select and trusted clients of it's existence.
It was no wonder the military commanders loved the stuff though. The minute robots could change the structure of chemical compounds, both organic and metallic, atom by atom. It could be used to make field repairs, to synthesize ammo, to sabotage enemy equipment, or for a host of other applications.
Weaver heard one of the drones at the intersection give a whistle, and saw a dark haired woman striding down the street. He stepped out from the shadows.
"Do you have it?" asked the woman.
"Of course," the smuggler replied, placing the canister in the woman's hungry hands. "I'll expect the second half of my fee to be transferred by tomorrow."
But the woman was already gone, marching quickly down the streets of Admiralty Base.

Tokek Belerang · July 26, 1999, 17:44

"Why, master Jacobus, you look all different."

The man thus addressed looked up in surprise. Snake-like green eyes flashed at him from across the rickety cafe table. He had been sitting alone, drinking a mug of the local brew, and not minding anyone's business but his own. His roll-necked jersey suggested he was a sailor, likely as not from one of the weed trailers that worked the straits between Parade Ground and the Bunker.

"I could say the same for you, madam." he replied.

"You could, and you would be right. All right if I sit down now?"

"Please, be my guest."

"Thanks. These heels are killing me."

The man grinned.

"That must have been a while." he commented.

"You're not wrong. I'll have what he's having, please."

The bartender had been little more than a deepening of the shadows that pretty well nearly made up the place they were in. A grunt of comprehension - if there is such a thing - represented confirmation of the order, and the shadow lifted slightly as the bartender went back behind his bar.

"It had to be this place, hadn't it?" the green-eyed woman commented.

"Tell me we're not perfect for it." he said.

"The way we look now, yeah, absolutely."

"So? Here comes your beer."

"Thank you." the woman said, and the shadow lingered fleetingly before withdrawing once more.

"You look wonderful." he said, and laughed.

"Shut up, you pirate. I look like a tramp and you know it."

"But you aren't. And I am very happy to see you."

Apart from the green eyes, she had jet-black hair, which he knew to be a paint job, hanging down her neck in a thick, short braid. High cheekbones, a wide mouth, fair teeth, a slender neck. She wore a mockery of a soldier's jumpsuit, much too tight and/or open in the sensitive places. His eyes wandered over the sensitive places for a prolonged bit, and he felt a familiar, pleasant stirring.

"I'm up here." she said.

"That's a matter of how you look at it."

"How you look at them, you mean."

"Touché."

She sighed.

"Is this really happening?" she asked.

"Yes, it is. A little earlier than we had imagined, but it is all happening now. Tonight, we break away."

His eyes met hers, and their gazes locked.

"You look ridiculous as a sailor." she said.

"Ridiculously suave. I know."

She looked at him.

"You're better without the wrinkles. I'd never have thought."

"No? Why?"

He tossed some credits on the table, bar chits you could buy in each joint in the Bunker.

"I don't know. The longevity thing and all, I'd just have thought you wouldn't be you anymore. Where are we going?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

They stepped outside, and the smell of the ocean wafted into their noses. Even though pacified under a tide grid, the smell was still there, the brutal, definitive odor of the sea. The woman pulled her robe tight under her neck, and squeezed her eyes.

"I wouldn't? Try me."

The man began walking.

"What?" she asked, "The fungal wall? Pholus Ridge? Bloody Pholus itself? Deianira? What?"

"Wrong." he laughed.

"You love this, don't you?"

"Yes. And so will you."

A tubelift took them up two levels, and they exited on a walkway above the harbor.

"We're not going anywhere, are we? Not out of here, I mean." she asked.

He smiled.

"Right."

He put an arm around her shoulder, gently eased her around to the building behind them, and pointed at a bright golden sign with flowing red lettering.

"Oh no." she said.

"Sir, Madam? Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel. We have your suite ready for you."

They followed the suited man inside, she punching his side and giggling, he trying to lift her off her feet.

"The Champagne you ordered is waiting, sir." the suited man said, and palmed his tip with a tiny smile.

The lift went up, and the suited man went back to his desk and his book.

------------------
Numquam turbae misceri

Hydro · July 26, 1999, 22:10

MicroTrade Incorporated Megaplex, Morgan Industries, Capital of Morgan-held Territory

'What a coup!' the stocky CEO of MicroTrade thought as he purposefully strode down the marble halls of his executive suite. His patent leather shoes clicked on the polished green and grey Chiron marble and the sound echoed up the three-storied hall. He was the only person in this huge veritable palace at the MicroTrade Megaplex. His three-layer silk suit shimmered in the diffuse light, giving off an iridescent emerald and indigo as he walked down the hallway. As he approached a great beaten bronze portal, the twin doors opened to reveal his inner sanctum.

A gradual smile started to form at his lips; it was a mouth that was used to smiling. His stark white teeth were a striking contrast to his ebony skin. The CEO walked over the holowindows surrounding his office suit. Real windows were far too vulnerable to 'accidents,' and had long ago been abandoned and replaced by real-time holo emitters. The true advantage was that an inside wall could have an outside view - nothing but the best. His office was actually in an armored core at the center of the Megaplex, the location of which was a secret the CEO would, and had, mindwiped to protect.

This view always enlivened his soul - a panorama of the sprawling metropolis of Morgan Industries, with all its glaring lights and towers reaching toward the sky. More towers were going up every day. More production. More commerce. More energy!

But today was a special day. The deal had been signed. There was no backing out now. Oh, the profit!

The CEO reflected aloud, "I knew those old University contacts would be advantageous, never abandon a contact. All the directors were derisive, 'The University of Planet is a dead faction, don't waste your time!' However, I have found that some informants do not have to be paid, the best ones never are. Just make them think you are a friend, and be solicitous of their well being. A little listening can be profitable, even after 20 years."

The CEO's smile widened. "Just think, I provide, at 'great cost', some obsolete agricultural sensors to the Spartans at Assassin's Redoubt for their tree farm, and they give me a prize beyond price: Earth-derived machine tools, the likes of which we on Chiron could not hope to fabricate. The choreography of the deal was exquisite. I hesitated, claiming it would be difficult. And they throw in some Earth schematics and programs that would take years to reverse engineer! For free!"

He turned from the holowindow and strolled toward his wetbar, which took up a 5 by 30 meter expanse of a freestanding wall. Pausing, he decanted some volatile Chironbrandy into some dry ice, which gave a satisfying sizzle. The trick is to find the exact point after the dry ice had vaporized to release the proper flavor in the Chironbrandy.

"Here is to you, Professor Andre Zahrenov! May gentlemen of your fine, but naïve, academic excellence continue forever!" he toasted as he held the glass in the air in front of him. He sipped. Perfect! He felt a warm glow spread through his body, as well as a sense of omnipotence and euphoria.

"I can not wait to tell Father!" Nwabudike Morgan, Jr. exclaimed.

Veracitas · July 26, 1999, 23:05

Chapter the Third

The dark hallway seemed to extend forever, beyond Catherine's line of vision. The walls were of a smooth, black stone that she could not identify, and, at definite intervals, there were a series of stone doors. The air was cold and still, and the labyrinth was lit with a luminescence that seemed to extend from all around her. Whence they came, her eyes could not perceive. It was as if the air itself was alive, glowing ubiquitously in molecular self-awareness.

Catherine was afraid. Her mind conjured all the horrors of her childhood fancy, lurking just beyond her vision--and her consciousness. She lay on the floor, shivering. Instinctively, she curled up in a fetal position, as if longing for the protectiveness of the womb. Around her, she could hear ghostly whispers, talking secretively. Are they talking about me? There must have been hundreds--or even thousands--of voices talking simultaneously, and she could not make anything out--or anyone. She was lost in this cold dungeon, haunted by the eerie sounds of the labyrinth.

She felt an unearthly present there, with her. She could feel its cold glare as it stared out her from the darkness, but every which way that she looked, she could find nothing. Perhaps the shroud of darkness hid her watcher, but it was unmistakably there. She could feel it, sense it with her mind. It would surprise many people how much her mind knew about such matters.

Catherine wanted to cry. Never before had she felt so weak or alone. She wanted to run and hide in that beautiful warmth that protection afforded the soul. She felt a pain in her being--the pain of loneliness that had haunted her all throughout her life. The colloquial sounds of the voices grew more menacing. A tremor rippled through her body.

The voices grew steadily louder. The soft hum had grown into an unmistakable buzz. Catherine had become terrified. No longer was she alone. Nay, the abominations of the labyrinth were invading her mind and destroying that edifice of reason that kept her mind sane. The pain intensified.

Catherine gripped the sides of the wall with her fingers like a cat on the walls of her confines, ready to tear herself loose. She hugged the wall as if it would offer her protection from the madness that was engulfing her. Her face contorted as if she would cry out, but her voice was choked with fear. Her mind screamed.

Abruptly, the voices halted their independent meandring and focalised at one point: welcome earthcatherine. She gasped as a strong hand suddenly grasped her shoulders from behind. She was forcibly lifted up and turned around, and Catherine found herself staring into dark, penetrating eyes. She was frozen in absolute terror by that blood-red stare. She could not move, and she could not bring her eyes away from that gaze.

She was brutally thrown on the ground, and the voices laughed--a dry, sinister laugh. The figure stood tall before her, clad in a dark Greatcloak. He (Catherine was certain that it was a he) towered over Catherine's trembling body. welcome earthcatherine. welcome to Hell

Catherine awoke.

The light of morrow from Alpha Centauri's primary star flowed in from the windows onto Catherine's bed. Beads of sweat were streaming from her face, and her nightgown clung closely to her body. She lay there for a few moments, too afraid to move. Then, she slowly arose from her bed and opened the windows. She breathed in the full richness of the morning air.

Alpha Centauri's primary star loomed in the far horizon, preparing to rise. It showered the planet's landscape with rich hues of red and yellow. The xenofungus glowed with an unsurpassed luminescence and beauty. Even mind worms could look pretty in those colours. While such grandeur was displayed before Catherine, her mind kept lingering on what she had just gone through.

It was only a dream. Nay, a nightmare. But it was so real, so painful.

She tried to enter meditation, like her father had taught her, hoping to sort out the events and soothe her troubled soul. It is no use. My mind is too cluttered. I don't have the discipline of my father.

Unlike most children, Catherine Atreus had lived the fifteen years of her life with her father in his Keep, Thera, not in some arbitrary children's creche. She was proud of her father for pressing the Council to allow him to raise his own child. It was only because he was a man of such political stature that he was granted such a favour. And though she enjoyed the exclusive tutors and privileges that could be afforded her, she had spent most of her life in solitude. She was surrounded by those older than her, and it was rare that she ever had contact with those her age.

She thought she enjoyed her solitary life, always reminding herself that it made her stronger. But sometimes, she would lapse into fits of depression, longing for the otherwise. Her father tried the best he could to be an adequate companion--often taking her through extensive training exercises to hone her mental skills--but the pressures of a Lord and a Field Marshall kept him busy much of the time.

He promised that we would spend more time together, since his retirement, but that recall changed everything.

The dream returned to her attention. Something seemed amiss to her. She had a lingering sense of déja-vu. Where have I seen that figure? She thought for a moment, and then the answer struck her like a sharp arrow: Mother!

Catherine recalled that day, when her mother had ventured into the xenofungus. She was only four, but the events of that day were forever ingrained into her memory. She recalled an alluring something drawing them into the fungus that had piqued her mother's curiousity. Her mother, being the adventurous woman that she was, had entered the luminescent mileu in search of that something.

It had been a gloriously beautiful day. Catherine's mother had taken her out beyond the gloomy reaches of the urban wastelands and into fields untouched by the vicious hands of human greed. The twinkling of the forest lined the expansive pastures of pure green, touched by the tinge of budding flowers here and there. A small stream flowed along the tree line, and the fresh mountain air was marked by the exuberance of the life that surrounded them.

Catherine had run through those pastures, following her mother's zig-zag trail. She often watched with fascination as her mother's dark, flowing hair rippled through the wind. Her mother's features were sharp but her warm smile would always soften them. Her eyes were dark and often gloomy, telling of much suffering in her past. She was of Mongolian descent, from a place on old Terra that was historically known for great surges of raw power. Her past had always been somewhat murky. Catherine knew now that her mother had been a former Hive operative but had been dissatisfied with the existing règime. She had led an independent revolt that was brutally crushed. Faced with imminent interrogation by the Ashaandi's Circle, she fled to the Spartan Federation, determined to topple "that corrupt règime."

When she had married Lord Vladimir of House Atreus, she had adopted the name Natasha. Thus, she became Lady Natasha Atreus. She had no former life or name. She had provided the Spartan Federation with vital information during the First Spartan-Hive War, but they did not trust her to the extent as to allow her to enlist in the Spartan military. Thus, she turned her focus inward, and concentrated on issues pertaining to the family Atreus. With her help, the name "Atreus" became widely known and respected. Her first child, Catherine, had given her the chance to explore the great potentials of an idea that she had long been contemplating--development of psionic abilities at an early age.

Both Lord and Lady Atreus had exhibited some of the greatest latent psionic power that Spartan scientists had ever seen. It was quite clear that Lady Natasha Atreus had more potential power, but, Hive creche masters had failed to single the talent out. Thus, though her raw powers remained strong, her abilities remained unrefined. Lord Vladimir Atreus, on the other hand, had received extensive mental training as a child as well as having an excellent latent ability. Thus, it was no wonder that Spartan scientists took great interest into what offspring would come of the two.

This interest crystallised into the baby Catherine. Upon her birth, there followed a heated legal debate. The scientists demanded that Catherine be handed over to the Sparta Command children's creche, where she could receive full mental training. Lord and Lady Atreus had demanded that they take responsibility for their child, and they also suggested that they would be the most qualified teachers, being Empaths themselves. The heavy weight that the word of Atreus carried finally forced the court to decide in their favour. Catherine grew up in Thera, but her parents were determined to develop all of her potential abilities to their maximum.

And thus, Natasha would often take her daughter to these green pastures to teach her. She wanted her to learn how to extend her mind to the teeming--and often confusing--jumble of life that perpetually surrounded her. She wanted her to feel Planet's soil for herself and breathe in the true essence of Chiron.

But, on that day, their training ground felt different, somehow. Xenofungal growth had been on the rise as of late, but that concerned neither Catherine nor her mother. A strange, alluring presence could be felt, drawing them in towards the glowing xenofungus. It was powerful and imposing. "Stay here," her mother had said as she entered the maze of the fungal bloom. Catherine had sat there for, perhaps, a minute or two when a terrifying scream rippled through her mind. Voices emerged from nowhere, speaking to her in haunting tones, but the most prominent of them was an unmistakable plea: Catherine! Run away from here! Run, Run!. Another tortured scream drowned out the voices.

Fear had gripped Catherine. Tears had filled her eyes as she ran blindly away from the terrifying screams. Suddenly, she had bumped into something. As she wiped the tears away from her eyes and looked up, she saw the imposing figure--the dark Greatcloak, the blood-red eyes, that viciously sinister laugh...

Alpha Centauri's primary star was now well over the horizon, casting a bright glow on the gardens of Thera. Catherine closed the window and layed herself down on the bed. There were tears in her eyes.

Velociryx · July 27, 1999, 09:38

"Sir, they’re breaking off!" Banks’ voice was weak and static laden, but he heard that well enough, and he sighed with relief. "Looks like elements of Rolling Thunder just popped up on the ridgeline. Friendlies are in the area!"

He smiled a genuine smile. It was going to be okay.

Then things got worse.

"Uh....sir....just got confirmation from Rolling Thunder Mobile HQ, unfriendlies in the Fungal Wall and headed your direction."

"Do they have a fix on how many?"

Banks was silent.

"Let’s have it Banks."

"A whole Division, Sir. Maybe more. Infantry, supported by a Rover Group."

A Division against the six companies he had deployed.

No hope.

Not even a faint prayer.

He closed his eyes for a moment and considered.

Well, by God, if he couldn’t beat them he could at least slow them down. Give the Spartan border bases time to prepare a defense.

"What is the status on base defense readiness along the border?"

The radio squawked and a burst of static spat out in response, and then Banks came through, even more weakly than before. And in the background, he could hear the faint sounds of artillery. "The bases are not ready for that kind of assault, and the rest of your forces are set to arrive for another six days."

Six days.

Against the force on its way through the fungus, he and his men would be lucky enough to last for six hours, much less six days, but he was a wily one, and it seemed a good death.

He nodded. "You tell the boys in Rolling Thunder our situation. Tell them we’ll delay the advance for as long as we can."

He was quiet for a long moment, and then he added. "And Banks, don’t even try to come back here. No need for us all to die."

He turned the radio off before she could respond, and went to gather his men.

Hydro · July 30, 1999, 08:44

Great Fungal Wall near Assassin’s Redoubt, 2nd Armor ‘Rolling Thunder’, Command rover of ‘Lightning’ Brigade

*****

All four occupants of the command rover for ‘Lightning’ Brigade were strapped into their stations: Markus in pilot and Rao next to him in co-pilot, Mary in engineering/communications behind them, and Lou almost directly above them in the chaos turret. All wore pressure suits in case of a hull breach and eyecursor comm equipment. Mary was the sole member of the crew hooked into VR, since she was busy scouting ahead of them with the popup skyeye. Normally Rao would be in the C and C position next to Mary at engineering, but with Marciel injured and evaced to Assassin’s Redoubt they were undermanned. The bottom line is the rover couldn’t function adequately during combat without a co-pilot, and Rao had had to transfer the C and C functions to the copilot console. Their rover was at 80% of capacity, but they were only one of the rovers in their brigade. They would have to make due.

Even with inertial stabilizers and the five point harnesses it was a bruising ride. The rover brigades Lighting, Knife Strike, and Blue Death had been ordered to find and destroy the four Hive infantry brigades that were quickly advancing on Assassin’s Redoubt. All units were at almost 65% of maximum speed while tearing through the fungus of the Great Fungal Wall, and that was 15% over the theoretical maximum. So far none of the rovers had broken down, but systems on several rovers were past redline. There would be hell to pay in maintenance later, but orders were orders.

There was no time for diversions. Even at top speed it was clear the three rover brigades were not going to make it to Assassin’s Redoubt before the Hive infantry assault started. The unspoken truth was that the chances of the fusion plasmasteel garrison holding out were small. Being based out of Assassin’s Redoubt, most in the rover crewmembers knew and were friends with the members of the garrison. Some, like Markus, had family at Assassin’s Redoubt. Soldiers at least got an honorable death in battle. The horrors of war belong to civilians.

The mood was grim.

A red light indicating a vital incoming message from HQ flashed on Rao’s impromptu C and C console. Markus violently steered around a large patch of fungus and the rover tilted crazily to 45o. Rao waited for the rover to right itself and then voice activated the message.

* Urgent Communiqué to 2nd Armor brigade captains
* Date – M.Y. 2225 9.4:0840
* Ref ID – 29890-A-XXX
* Authorization – 2nd Armor Field Marshal Hui Wang
* R.E. – Tactical update and force deployment, 2nd Armor

* Item 1: Assassin’s Redoubt detachment Blue Death, Lightning, and Knife Strike brigades to engage and destroy four Hive infantry proximate to Assassin’s Redoubt. Sensor information indicates Hive forces are armed with fission missiles and plasmasteel armor. One of the four Hive brigades has antiaircraft ability. Hive forces successfully destroyed the northern sensor protecting Assassin’s Redoubt; the southern sensor is intact. Infantry are currently pinned by 2nd Armor air support. Hive units are reportedly digging in, resulting in the destruction of large expanses of forest, but are unable to advance. Use eyecursor <..here..> for additional information.

* Item 2: Great Fungal Wall rover detachment Rumble, Deth Shock, and Firestorm brigades are to engage Hive rovers reported in the Great Fungal Wall. No other information is available.

* Item 3: Reservists have been called up and 8 rover brigades activated or refitted from existing Unity and defensive rovers. These will form the new 2nd Armor group called ‘Lightning Strike’. These brigades are currently advancing south past the Southern Fungal Wall south of Fort Superiority to prevent elements from 47th Infantry from being encircled by Hive forces. Use eyecursor <..here..> for additional information.

Rao absorbed the update in less than 2 seconds, and then flashed the contents to Lou and Mary, and gave a short verbal update to Mark. It would be a bad idea to distract Markus under these driving conditions. Most rover brigade captains would not forward actual command communiqués to subordinates. Technically, it was a violation of protocol. In practice, as long as discretion was used the decision was not challenged.

“Well, that is the first good news we have had in some time,” Rao commented. The rover lurched violently, downward and then diagonally upward at least 5 meters, throwing the crew against his or her harnesses. Everyone winced in pain.

Mary was busy sending an excerpt to the other rovers in their brigade.

Over the comm came a message from Lou in the chaos turret, “All right! I getta shoot me some Hive!”

*****

“Sir, 2 rovers from our brigade report critical system failure: one had drive train collapse and the other had to eject their fusion drive. Both are inoperable. Current strength of our brigade is holding at 90%,” Mary updated Rao.

“Acknowledged,” was Rao’s only comment. “Estimated ETA?”

“Less than an hour,” Mary replied, somewhat distracted. She was absorbed in the data coming in from the skyeye.

*****

~~“Aardvark 1 leader to wing, infantry are trying to break off of the forest road into the forest. Intercept and strafe. Do not engage!” wing pilot Nans Andersen ordered. The order was not really necessary since his pilots knew their jobs and understood their orders. It was dangerous, however, not to reinforce their orders, since the needlejet wings Aardvark 1 and even the severely damaged Aardvark 2 had been rotating their sorties. Repetition breeds boredom, which leads to errors if the crew’s attention is not refocused.

~~ “Left wing, Hive infantry group Anthrax is moving east. Pin them. Right wing, infantry groups Cholera and Diphtheria seem to be moving west. Pin them. Bubonic seems to be keeping station. We have to keep these nasty little diseases together. A little Thunder should cure them!” Nans joked. Naming the Hive infantry after diseases had been his idea, and now even Assassin’s Redoubt Governor Tobias was using the terms. Nans felt absurdly pleased and made it a point to use the ‘honorific’ whenever he could. It seemed to be a morale booster. Dehumanizing the enemy always was.

The needlejets in the Aardvark 1 wing split off toward their targets. Simultaneously, the tattered and bruised needlejets from Aardvark 2 retired to Assassin’s Redoubt. A couple of the lightly or undamaged needlejets from Aardvark 2 did a couple of barrel rolls as they left. Most of the pilots from Aardvark 2 needed all their concentration just to keep their birds aloft. They would only get time to rearm, not repair.

The 2nd Armor air support needlejets buzzed around the Hive infantry like crazed hornets. Over and over again they emptied their missile racks at a safe distance, returned to base while the second wing left, then plastered the infantry again. The entire hillside north of Assassin’s Redoubt echoed with continuous missile explosions. The missiles did little or no damage, except, perhaps, to the infantry’s nerves. Occasionally the frustrated Hive infantry would open fire at the aircraft with small arms or even some of their own missiles, but the needlejets were out of range. So far the infantry hadn’t managed their breakout, but they kept trying. Every time the Hive started for an area the infernal needlejets would spray them with missiles. The only casualty was the forest, which was now a collection of craters and stumps.

~~ ”Third left wing Martinez reporting, I see ‘Rolling Thunder’ coming down the North Forest Road! At full speed and …” Maria started.

She couldn’t finish since the cheers over the comm system drowned her out.

*****

Trees were whizzing by, and the rovers charged south down the well-remembered road north of Assassin’s Redoubt. Mary’s skyeye showed a huge plume of dust from the hundreds of rovers that made of the three rover brigades. ‘Well, our arrival will not be a secret,’ she thought, and then maneuvered her skyeye up and over the trees toward the Hive infantry’s reported position.

From this distance she could discern hundreds or thousands of solders that made up the nearest Hive infantry brigade. Above them, swooping in and pulling out like hawks or vultures, were the 2nd Armor Aardvark needlejets. Even though HQ had warned the rover brigades, it was shocking to see the devastation the infantry had wrought to the forest. All the 100-year-old oaks and elms within 2 clicks were leveled, shattered, or were burning.

“Tacs update: nearest infantry on the North Forest Road, ETA in 15 minutes. Terrain cleared, repeat, terrain cleared,” Mary succinctly reported to the rest of the rover group.

“Lou, look sharp. Fire at will. This will be target practice, if you miss, you’re fired,” Rao stated.

The high whine of the chaos turret going from standby to full power pulsed through the cabin, and it rose above the din of the road noise. Mary noticed a slight decrease in power output, and two warning lights went from green to yellow indicating the potential overload of the fusion engine. ‘Nothing that I can do about that now,’ Mary thought. ‘All systems except maneuver and weapons are already at baseline.’

“HOLD TIGHT! HERE WE GO!” Markus shouted as they burst out from the trees into the open.

*****

Flight pilot Maria Martinez pulled north and then did a U-turn so she could follow the rovers into battle, and give them a little air support. Then she saw that from this vantage point she could see the entire battle unfolding. Inspired, she activated here flight holovid cameras and her voice recorder.

“What a beautiful sight! Cavalry to the rescue! They’re just pouring onto the open. Hundreds of rovers! Looks like Blue Death is just coming into view. They look a little, no, a lot, bunched up but are beginning to spread out like a fan onto the newly deforested hillside. Grrrr. Those Hive bastards will pay for that! Hey, they’re forming a wedge! And it is aimed directly at the Hive infantry that we have conveniently pinned for them. <..chuckle..> They can thank us later. Not quite as pretty as I’ve seen on the training holos, but pretty good. Here comes Knife Strike. Lightning can’t be far behind. Looks like they’ll be forming up similarly. Hah! Three arrows pointed at the heart of the Hive infantry! Anthrax, Bubonic, Cholera, and Diphtheria, you’re going to get a little cure! Don’t think you’ll like it, though! <..snicker..>

“Lead rovers from Blue Death are firing into the nearest hundreds of men in Bubonic. They’re tearing ‘em apart! Kind of strange. It looks like the Hive is being thrown everywhere simultaneously; it must seem like the sky is bursting downward, the air exploding around them, and the ground rushing up to meet them! That chaos weapon those ground slugs have is releasing an amazing amounts of energy. Wish I had one of those in this old this bucket of bolts. Wow! Debris is falling from the sky! After the first firings fully half of the assault brigade is gone!

“I can see the Hive infantry wheeling around and get some of their weapons to bear. Got to hand it to ‘em, they are not panicking, must have a lot of experience. Their missile fire is hitting the front line of the Blue Death brigade, but it is nowhere near as powerful as it might have been. Oh! There are some hits on some of the rovers. Direct hits, and explosions! A bunch more are slowing down, trailing smoke and debris. One on the left flank has overturned. All told, not too bad, looks like Blue Death brigade is pretty much intact.

“Blue Death just keeps on charging. Go get ‘em! Their next volley is hitting the center of the infantry formation, where I can see their heavy missile assault weaponry. I seem to recall some infantry pukes tell me those assault weapons take hours to properly set up, stabilize, and aim. Well, looks like they’re not going to have that much time today. Those main heavy missiles were obviously intended to reduce Assassin’s Redoubt defenses to slag; now they are nothing but a big, juicy target. Whoa! The left and left-center of the infantry group just ceased to exist in a series of violent explosions. Look at ‘em go!

“Gotta bank to get a clearer shot. Hope I don’t miss anything.

<..pause, sound of aircraft engines, wind noise, and far away explosions..>

“There we go. The Hive’s return fire after that conflagration is much weaker, but it looks like the rovers are taking hits anyway since they are approaching point plank range. Uh, oh. A small chain reactions took out the five damaged lead rovers on the road, causing those behind to take evasive maneuvers to avoid the flaming debris. Blue Death must be down to 70%, now.

“There isn’t much left of Bubonic; looks like they are shattered, with only part of their center and right flank remaining. The left and right flanks of Blue Death are wheeling around to deliver the coup de grace. Hey! A series of direct hits is rippling through; men and machines are being ripped apart. Now the heavily armored missile assault launchers are getting hit, most of its defenders are gone. There it goes! It’s erupting into a white and yellow wall energy! The blast is arcing outward and is sweeping through the few remaining men of Bubonic, and then backward toward their nearby Hive infantry brigades Anthrax, Cholera, and Diphtheria. They must be getting a little singed. Hope they get a little blast damage. That’s it. Game over for Bubonic. I better pull out before the blast radius gets me…

<..sound of concussive explosions..>

“As I pull away I can see the rovers of Blue Death are pealing away, with each flank arcing from the battle and back in an outside loop toward the two remaining rover brigades, Knife Strike and Lighting.

“There is a lot of smoke and debris. But I can see that Knife Strike rovers are charging into the fray through the wreckage. I can feel the explosions starting already. Lightning is slowing slightly and forming behind Knife Strike. So fast! God, it’s beautiful!

“I’m going to pull east and then south so I am upwind of the smoke. Shouldn’t take very long if I go into a hard bank. Hang on!

<..pause..>

“Wow, that was an explosion! Knife strike must have already torched their siege missiles. Looks like I am going to be too late to see the end of Anthrax, I think. It’s hard to tell the infantry apart at this height and speed, though.

“Well I can see.. what a mess. The explosion and proximity fire from Knife Strike has destroyed Anthrax, and there isn’t much left of Cholera or Diphtheria, either, due to all that collateral damage. ‘The power of fusion, brought to you by chaos!’ Sorry, couldn’t resist throwing in that little Morgan Entervid jingle.

“I can see a what’s left of Knife Strike pulling away, they don’t look too bad. They’re trying to get out of the way of Lighting.

“Never underestimate the mindless minions of Yang! Even after all this they are forming up! Can’t be much left but a half a brigade now, total. There go the first volleys from Lighting. The infantry is pretty spread out, looks like they didn’t hit too much. Here comes the return fire. Direct Hit! Must be 3, no 4 fireballs! Bastards!

“The hole in our the line is being filled, almost like it’s morphing. Great piloting, guys! Ah! Chaos fire is ripping through their ranks! There they go! There they go! Chain reaction! Wow, twin fireballs!

“Better get out of the way of that one! That’ll toast me for sure! Wow, two!”

<.. holovid ends with a view of the sky as Maria Martinez’s needlejet goes into a steep pull upwards and then arcs to the west..>

*****

Evac is always a mess. There are thousands dead, thousands wounded.

Rao stood in the blasted forest giving orders at a furious clip. His command rover, Lightning, was in back of Rao and it lay on its side and it was partially eviscerated. Always practical, dutiful, and stubborn, Rao declined triage to direct efforts at securing the battlefield. Even though the Hive infantry had been decimated, there were going to be survivors. And those survivors could cause a lot of trouble with all the weaponry lying around. It was simply understood that it was their duty to aid a fallen fellow solder, after they had been disarmed, of course. Plus, prisoners were always useful.

In the background a veritable armada of ground and air vehicles was pouring out of Assassin’s Redoubt to assist in treating the wounded and maintaining order.

Mary awoke looking at the sky. ‘Strange,’ she thought, ‘shouldn’t I be in my rover Lightning?’ she thought to herself, a little disoriented. For a moment she didn’t move, but just took in what she could see and hear.

She could hear an occasional small arms discharging, a fire somewhere, and moaning and a few far away screams for help. Inhaling deeply through her breathmask, she could smell acrid burning plastics and the strangely fragrant smell of burning wood. She felt a stone or something blunt digging into her back.

She rolled onto her side and immediately thought better of it as pain lanced down from her pelvis and her legs. Gradually, carefully, she rolled onto her back again. She cautiously looked at her legs and saw that they were immobilized in a clear, balloon-like plastic. Strangely, her first thoughts were, ‘Hey! I’ve just been wounded in battle!’

Then she started remembering the last chaotic moments in the rover. She had been absorbed in the skyeye VR, reporting events to Rao. Two of the rovers next to Lightning had taken hits, but weren’t out. The engineering panel suddenly lit up, indicating wild power fluctuations, then loss. Then a flash; they must have taken a hit. Next, nothing.

“Markus?” she ventured. More insistently, “MARKUS!?”

Wildly, Mary looked around. She was evidently in a triage center, since there were immobile wounded all around her, including a couple of Hive solders. There were a couple of men or women in a rover jumpsuit bent over several of the patients.

“MARKUS!!” she shouted again. She didn’t feel panic, just an approaching dread.

One of the figures that was hunched over a patient looked up, then said something to his companion, who nodded. Markus stood and jogged to her side.

Markus crouched and took Mary’s hand. “Looks like the tables are turned, huh?” Markus said lightly and gently. “I get to play nursemaid for a while. Are you OK?”

“Yah. I’m fine now. Just go help with those amazing medic skills of yours. Try not to kill too many people. Back soon?” Mary asked.

“Count out it!” Markus affirmed as he stood, winked at her, and walked away.

*****

Hydro · July 30, 1999, 09:02

Duplicate post. Deleted.

[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited July 30, 1999).]

Dcole78 · July 30, 1999, 10:20

Ok guys here goes.....

Spartan Sub fleet south of Emerald Isle

Fleet Commander Baldwin stood on the surface of his sub and watched as the others slowly surfaced, glad that they had to surface to replenish their air supply since it gave the men a chance to leave the confines of the sub. "If only we could do it during the day time," he thought, but he knew that was impossible. Stealth was the only thing they had going for them. One direct hit and they were done for. "I do miss the suns, and even the fungus", he thought. Turning he looked at his men as they gazed off into the night each with his own thoughts. "Scrubs", the word came unbidden to his mind, "scrubs that's what they were. Sub life was not easy usually only two types of people joined. These were the scrubs. They couldn't make it in the airforce, the navy or even the infantry so they got sent to the sub fleet. Most would complete their required years of service than leave. And himself, well he was the second type he had needed an escape. This is no time to think about the past" he chided himself. "I have a job to do."

"How much longer Jeffrey" he said into his suits voice transmitter. "The air tanks should be full in about 30 more seconds commander", came the reply. "Ok people back into the sub" he said. "David tell the other sub commanders to dive as soon as their tanks are full" Watching the men climb down into the sub he thought to himself, "They may be scrubs, but they are my scrubs and I will do right by them."

Hydro · July 30, 1999, 22:37

Deleted
[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited July 31, 1999).]

Googlie · August 2, 1999, 01:11

Chiron
Year 2225, 8th month 12th day
Tape one (of four)

I am dictating this while a guest of Lady Deirdre Skye at Velvetgrass Point where I have been residing for these past six days.

This is the record of how I came to be here.

After Julia Santiago left me at the fissure in the rock to go and try to find the jettisoned seats of our downed needlejet I passed the time partly in hiding whenever I heard voices and partly semi-obscured from view but where I could see what was happening in my immediate surroundings.

When the troopers passed by and I overheard them talking about Sand being in the vicinity I retreated more fully into the crevasse formed by the rock overhang, and reworked the shredder pistol to restore its flechet capability, removing the flamer component that I had jerry rigged. Suicide was an option that I didn't relish, but I was not going to be captured alive by Sand.

As I worked on the pistol, I was suddenly aware that I was not alone. I experienced a keening sound in my mind, not quite piercing, but enough to give me the beginnings of an headache. I recognized the symptoms from the encounter a few days before - mindworms. And I had just dismantled the flamer capability of my pistol - how ironic, I thought.

I heard the rustle from across the patch of barren rock, coming from the fungus. I peered out of my cubby hole, and was looking at the most enormous mindworm that I had ever seen. I readied for battle. The shredder would have to suffice.

Suddenly, into my mind came the most unexpected and - in this situation - absurd memory recall I have ever experienced - the face and figure of Deirdre Skye, as I'd last seen her, in the hydroponics module of the Unity. She was as fresh in my mind now as she had been real then. I'd been sent by Santiago to find her, after Corazon had captured Yang (before Yang used his incredible powers to coerce his captor to turn the shredder on herself). I'd stumbled into Deirdre in the hydroponics lab, immersed in her tree specimens. Of course I'd known her from our Edinburgh high school days - we'd dated a couple of times, nothing serious - before she had moved with her father after her parents divorce to the UN headquarters in New York and gone on to Cornell University. Our paths had crossed again in Pakistan where she was part of the UN Disaster Relief team and I had been part of Scotland's contribution to the UN Peace Keeping forces holding India and Pakistan apart.

I looked at the mindworm nestled in the fungus about twenty feet away. I saw Deirdre, sitting on the bed, disheveled, blowing me a kiss as I left her dormitory to go back to my barracks. The vision shimmered. I looked again at the mindworm. I saw Deirdre in the hydroponics module, standing under one of her trees, looking at me, holding out her hand, beckoning me to her. I heard her voice, the soft Scottish accent music to my ears:

"Scott, come with me. We are all in danger. The Unity is falling apart. This mission is a disaster. The team has factionalized. You don't belong with Yang or Santiago. I've survived. Leave now with my emissary. It is your friend."

I snapped out of my reverie. Was this in the present? Was it this mindworm that was communicating directly into my mind? Was Deirdre Skye still alive, and talking to me through a mindworm?

"Friend…. Follow…. To Deirdre….." I looked at the mindworm in surprise. I actually could sense it trying, in its rudimentary fashion, to communicate with me.

I came out of my cubby hole and moved towards it.

It skittered off into the fungus.

I followed.

It was waiting for me in the fungus fronds.

I thought to myself, 'I'll throw this pistol away - I don't need it where I'm going, my pet mindwormn will take care of me'. Then I stifled that thought. No, I needed the pistol.

Suddenly the mindworm bunched and sprang at me. I reflexively raised my arms to my head to protect my face, taken completely by surprise. However instead of attaching itself to my head and shoulders it fixed itself on my hand and arm, and the force of its momentum and its sheer weight knocked me to the ground and sent the pistol flying deep into the fungus.

'Well, whaddayaknow', I thought. 'it wasn't just a crazy idea that entered my head, this thing wants me unarmed'.

"OK Alphonse," I said, "you win. No gun".

The mindworm had coiled again. I sensed the attempted comunication again:

"Friend… follow… to Deirdre"

'Hmmm. Limited vocabulary, Alphonse, but I get the drift'

(Alphonse was the name my father used for a party trick on old terra, when he pulled an old matchbox from his pocket and pretended to have a pet flea inside that did tricks, looping the loop, and so on. The climax to the trick was to pretend that Alphonse landed on some girl or woman's head, and father would carefully pluck it out and put it on the back of his hand and try to go through the trick repertoire again. Then he'd say "Oh, pardon me madame, this isn't Alphonse, he must be yours". And put the imaginary flea back on the discomfited girl's head amid much hooting and laughing of the crowd. Come to think of it he'd even used Deirdre as the sacrificial goat once when she and some friends had visited our house one Halloween. I chuckled. I wonder if she'll remember the connection. Then I stopped in my tracks. Was I remembering that because she had remembered and given the thought of the name to the mindworm to place in my mind.

My mind reeled trying to follow the convoluted logic.

"Lead on, MacDuff," I said to the mindworm, which seemed to understand as it skittered once more deeper into the fungus.

I followed.

[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited August 02, 1999).]

korn469 · August 2, 1999, 02:24

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She was cold, and quite alone in the dark. Her body wanted to shut down but she couldn't. There was a part of her that forced her to keep on going. (too tired to sleep) It was scary in the dark. She felt like she was in a mausolemum. She couldn't stand it anymore so in desperation she reach out once more, and she felt (light) at ease. It was comforting, she couldn't take being alone. She needed (all of them) to be comforted. The warmth and the light that had been without since was with her again. She needed them back. If only she wasn't so weak, she needed (friends) to be alone, she needed to rest.

They were like apparitions, yellow clad demons appearing out of the haze that surrounded her. Except she wasn't herself, she was somebody else. Somebody warm and caring. They moved like demons, and lasers warped and twisted their skin. She could feel (pain)her hands. They were cold and distant.

Great scars bubbled up on the Demons' smooth faces, then because they were demons the scars disappeared. He was warm. It was definantly a he she was in. (Devon) Then he touched her. (kali) He carassed her like no other could.

They were getting closer, and he didn't see the demons. The ugly yellow demons with the melting skin. (kail, feel me) Why couldn't he see them? They were so close. (Devon, beside you!) A demon was right in front of him. Then it touched her. Its touch was (empty) cold. It was holding her, yet she could feel her arms and nothing was there.

Then a great blinding explosion hit her. She lost him (Devon!) and she could only feel the demon. (so cold) It didn't know she was there. It didn't feel her, but she could feel it.

"Finally, some light. Somebody cut off those laserFX! And I mean now." Soldiers scambled and the laser light turned off. "Sargent, take two men and search for any more hiding places. I want everyone in here found and arrested." Lieutenant Burke surveyed the drones his men were rounding up. Lazy, rebellious, a burden on society. The drones were a sharp contrast to the crisp uniforms and delibrate movements of his men.

"Yes, Sir! Crowe you and Corporal Deitrich come with me."

Lieutenant Burke, looked emaculate in his Morgan TRT (tactical responce team) uniform. It was a short sleave tan-yellow uniform, with a black beret. The pants were loose, and his boots were jungle style combat boots, highly shined like a mirror. The only difference between his uniform (besides the gold bars) was he had white gloves instead of the enlisted men black gloves. All of his men carried stun batons, they were well trained in crowd control and using non-leathal methods to control unrest.

One of his men was struggling with a drone who was apparently completely under the influence of some drug. By the looks of the drones, it probably wasn't something sold by Morgan Metagenics. The drone had went beserk when they cut on on the lights. The stun baton wasn't having an effect on the man. More of his men moved to restrain the beserker. In no time the drone was laying on the floor, unconscious but still alive.

He had saw drone run into the burnt out shell of a building when hi armored personal transport rumbled by. On a hunch he had his men go into the building and they found this "club" underneath the building. Moving like lighting his men suprised and overwhelmed the drones. Quickly bring the situation under control, and only one drugged up drone got agitated. It was a testiment to the disipline and skill of his unit.

"Sir, we found one. Except he says they are exempt from our sweep." Burke turned around to face the prisoner.

"Exempt? I have orders to enforce the Beta Sector curfew. I wasn't briefed about anyone having an exemption." Hs voice was filled with contempt. Burke gave him a skectical look. The drone was barely older than the rest. His eyes were bloodshot, yet he had this confident look in his eyes that infuriated Burke.

"Are you sure, Lieutenant? Check my exemption, and see if it checks out..." he passed a small shiny card to Burke. It was a Morgan Bank Legal Tender Energy Credit voucher for 5000 credits.

"Well it does check out. I guess there was mistake. I appologize for any inconvenience. Sargent, load the men into the transport."

"Yes Sir!" Sargent St. Peters formed the men and marched them out. Burke turned around and strode out with the rest of his TRT squad.

"No problem." Chrisk muttered with great contempt in his voice as the last of the soldiers left.

She couldn't feel the demon anymore, yet she couldn't feel Devon either. There was something betwen them. She needed him. She could feel herself slipping away. (DEVON! HELP!)

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[This message has been edited by korn469 (edited August 05, 1999).]

Tokek Belerang · August 2, 1999, 09:55

To: Field Commanders
From: CinC cabinet
Subj.: Command replacements

In view of the lacunae left in the command structure by CO Salvador St James (colonel) of 1st Wing, MiA, and CO Patricia McMillan (admiral) of North Fleet, MiA, the Commander in Chief of Spartan forces has decided to appoint Eugene Levavassier (major) and Teresia Giacomazzi (admiral), respectively, to the available posts. Major Levavassier has been promoted to the rank of colonel, and will continue to fulfil his tasks as temporary governor of Hawk of Chiron base, for which he has recently received a commendation.

End of communication.

------------------
Numquam turbae misceri

Googlie · August 2, 1999, 10:18

Chiron
Year 2225, 8th month 12th day
Tape two (of four)

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

I sensed it before I saw it.

A low hum, with an accompanying gentle vibration of the ground over which I walked, growing stronger as we approached.

Voices in my head, interspersed with chitterings of a thousand mindworms and the subdued, almost drowned out, sighs and creaks and whisperings of a million trees and fungus stalks.

Then we broke through the fungus into a clearing and I saw the monolith, towering above me for what seemed to be at least seven or eight hundred feet or so into the evening sky. It glowed a coppery gold color that seemed to gently pulse with energy. I felt the hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end as the palpable energy from the edifice emanated in all directions and caught me in its field.

It's footprint on the ground was relatively small for its size, about eighty feet square, I reckoned. The composition was of a type I had not encountered before, seemingly metallic, yet warm to the touch. There were no joins or seams that I could see, nor any openings, just one continuous sweep from the ground to its apex hundreds of feet into the air.

Alphonse was growing excited now, skittering towards the edifice and a voice inside my head was insistently saying "Come… Come…"

As it approached close to the base an opening suddenly materialized, catching me completely by surprise. I had heard no machinery, nor experienced any change in the energy fluctuations.

Alphinse skittered into the monolith.

I followed, hesitantly, limping badly as though the splintered bones in my ankle were setting themselves incorrectly aligned and hobbled through the aperture.

The door cycled shut with a soft hiss.

Blackness.

Followed almost immediately by a soft yellow glow that lighted up the inside of the monolith, revealing it to be a vast chamber about the size of one of old earth's basketball/hockey arenas, fully capable of holding 25,000 people.

I gawked in amazement.

The only other monolith I had encountered was just outside Ironholm, and it had been much smaller. In any event I had visited it after the University had tinkered with it so who knew what changes they had made to the arcane machinery they found there. One thing had been certain, it had proved to have amazing healing and recuperative powers when visited by wounded troops and even malfunctioning machinery. But the spatial distortion had not been so pronounced. Noticeable, but my recollection was that it had been significantly smaller.

I was aware of a silence inside my head - the chitterings and sighs and whisperings had ceased.

A Voice intruded into my mind:

"Welcome, earthgooglie, long waiting. Follow."

At that, Alphonse moved towards one wall, which began shimmering, taking on a translucent hue.

I took a tentative step, and felt no pain. Gingerly I rotated the ankle. Full movement. I hopped up and down on the "bad' ankle, again, no pain. Blessed relief. I followed the mindworm more quickly.

As it approached, a section turned black, and an opening appeared directly ahead of where Alphonse was aiming. It appeared to be a corridor of some sorts.

It entered, and I followed.

The sense of spatial discontinuity intensified. The walls and roof and floor of the corridor seemed to curve inwards on themselves, meshing into a point just a few yards in front. Yet as we proceeded the point was never reached.

I looked behind. The same sensation, the walls and floor seemed to meet just a few yards behind. The same soft glow bathed us in its light as we traveled the corridor.

We walked for what seemed to be half an hour, about two kilometers I guessed, as the mindworm wasn't the quickest at its loping pace.

Then the walls didn't seem to merge ahead, but rather opened into another chamber, much smaller than the first, and as we entered a voice came into my head "Arrived".

Arrived? Where? I wondered.

Alphonse skittered straight ahead to one chamber wall, and as before, soundlessly, effortlessly, the wall shimmered and revealed an opening. Alphonse moved through.

I stood in the doorway surveying the scene.

We were on a small hill overlooking a valley, and as my eyes took in the sweep of trees down to the valley floor and up the other ridge opposite, the primary sun's early morning rays were dappling the valley with light and shadows from the trees. A small stream ran nearby, trickling downhill until it became a sizeable river by the time it reached the valley floor.

I inhaled deeply, the sweet smell of fir and hemlock bringing back memories of a lifetime ago of fishing for trout in the Scottish highland streams amid the firs. In the valley floor was a small city built in the Gaian fashion, utilizing the giant tree trunks indigenous to Chiron. Habitation discs clustered round the trunks and I could see movement as people went about their early morning business.

I exited the monolith and as I stepped out a gutteral voice said:

"Welcome, Commander Allardyce".

I turned around, and was looking into the muzzles of two shredder rifles held by stern faced troopers. They were wearing the old familiar Gaian insignia on their shoulders.

I tried to remain cool.

"I didn't know you had established a base on Spartan Federation territory," I said. "From its looks it's been here for a few years. I expect Santiago will want tribute to allow its continuance."

One guard's response floored me.

"Oh, we're thousands of kilometers south and east of your territory. We've founded our new Gaian Preserve on a continent well away from you squabbling factions, where we will grow in peace with planet's blessing."

I stared. Thousands of kilometers? How was this possible?

"But enough babbling," one guard said. "Let's get down to Velvetgrass Point. Lady Skye is waiting for you."

Lady Skye? So Deirdre was still alive? My heart skipped a beat.

I followed the trooper down to the base.

[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited August 02, 1999).]