The Spartan Chronicles - Continued

[Hydro]

Morgan Industries

CEO Nwabudike Morgan chuckled to himself as he reviewed the report. There had been precious little to be happy about lately, so why not find consolation in the grief of others?

It seems that the Hive has been afflicted by a series of rather hasty fungal blooms, which according to the latest satellite map purchased from the Spartan Sky Hydroponics Lab 1 now covered between a quarter and a third of Hive territory. As an attachment, his chief security officer Paul Andreas noted that the Hive cities of Seat of Proper Thought, Social Engineering Den, and Fellowship City were under serious and almost continuous attack from native lifeforms as mindworms and locust of Chiron boiled out of the blooms. If the latest reports from the Morgan informants were to be believed, the defenses of Fellowship City has been breached, and ravenous mindworms had consumed tens of thousands of Hive citizens. Even now defenses were being rushed in by land and air, and surviving defenders were being given crash training in hypnotic trance defense.

Serves them right Morgan thought to himself. He reflected that Morgan Industries itself had one minor mindworm attack during the borehole collapse incident, and a major attack orchestrated by the Hive. Ironically the Gaians had saved them from almost complete annihilation.

Paul had also added speculation as to why such serious and widespread blooms occurred. It was well known that serious disruptions in the Chiron ecology sometimes provoked a response, almost as a human antibody responds to an infection. Several Morgan scientists suggested that this was evidence of a partially sentient or at least symbiotic ecology. Although they were the minority, their stature was increasing as the evidence mounted. Paul noted that these same scientists have said 'off the record' that it couldn't be a coincidence that the blooms occurred almost immediately after the use of the planetbusters by the Hive. This almost coordinated fungal bloom and vigorous attack might be nothing more than an extreme response to what Planet sees as a massive infection that is causing it harm.

That is certainly food for thought, Morgan pondered. Maybe it is a good thing the mindworm attack on Morgan Industries destroyed the planetbuster I acquired from the Hive. I might have well used it by now, to my regret. How strange. Maybe the loony pagan beliefs of the Gaians are partially correct?

"Sir, we have a send-only transmission from Chairman Yang," Morgan's assistant Mallory interrupted.

"Cancel. I have no interest in the pontification of the esteemed Chairman. If he does not deign to allow 2-way communication then route it to my second."

"Sir, I think you will want to receive this," Mallory continued in a concerned voice.

"Very well. Route it through."

Moments later a holo of Chairman Yang's torso appeared.

"CEO Morgan. I am pleased to inform you that I have in my keeping a treasure of great value. It will join my other treasures, as keepsakes of our relationship which you violated."

Yang's image cut off, and was replaced by blackness. Slowly an image resolved itself, showing a man suspended in a punishment sphere. Audio cut in, and a piercing, agonized scream filled CEO Morgan's office.

The CEO paled. He immediately recognized the voice, and then the image, of the man in the punishment sphere.

It was the voice of his only son, Nwabudike Junior.

[Hydro]

Laborer's Throng

"Gentlemen, the gloves have come off. In view of the destruction of Parade Ground and Ironhome, Coronal Santiago has authorized the use of extreme force," Mel Cassaroni stated to the assembled brigade leaders of Lightning Strike, Amphib, Aardvarks, and 4th Wing.

Several broke out in cheers, a few looked concerned and had furrowed brows, and most were simply thoughtful at this expected announcement.

Mel stared down those that were cheering, and they subsided.

"Just so we are crystal clear, 'extreme force' means that some units will be equipped with nerve gas. These will primarily be the unrefit chaos Aardvark penetrators and shard interceptors. We understand that this will cause significant collateral damage to Hive civilian populations, but we are in a fight for our lives. The Hive has forced us to this. There will be no more cheering. Is that clear?"

She knew many of her flyers, infantry, and rover brigades had lost loved ones and friends in the Hive planetbuster attacks. Already the phrases 'Remember the Parade' and 'Ironhome Revenge' becoming rallying cries. Several of the rover brigades had taken the names of these vanished cities as their informal unit names. More importantly, there were now fewer who privately voice concerns about the use of nerve gas. Most still considered it an atrocity, regardless of the fact that the UN Charter had been lifted. Now even those who were philosophically opposed to the use of nerve gas could see the necessity of its judicial use.

Mel turned to her holo display and her officers clustered around the table.

"To visualize, picture Hive territory as a great donut," Mel continued, which resulted in a couple of snickers from her officers. Picturing the Hive as a donut was funny, in a ludicrous sort of way. "Morgan holds the top at Communal Nexus and we hold the upper right and right at Laborer's Throng, Drone Mound, Manufacturing Warrens, and Deep Passage. The Hive rebel Forman Domai holds Great Clustering to the far left. The Gaians and Drones hold other Hive cities outside of the donut to the far right, but they are of no account in this discussion. In the center of the donut is Sea Hive, and in the open sea to the far bottom is the sea base Sea Collective. In all, the Hive controls 11 bases on or near the Hive mainland and 2 very unfortunate Morgan bases on Morgan's continent.

"First, a tactical update. Almost half of our forces are in Manufacturing Warrens and Deep Passage, which are within spitting distance of The Hive itself. The other half are at the edge of Spartan-held city in Drone Mound, having been released from garrison duty after we marshaled AA garrisons from the local population and staff brought in from Spartan territory. Our forces consist of the seven rover brigades of Lightning Strike, five Aardvark penetrators, the three elite amphib infantry and rovers, and three interceptors on loan from Slat's air wing. In view of events, the rovers of Lightning Strike have been refitted with airdrop capability, but not with gas or weapons better than chaos due to cost. Considering they won't being seeing much fighting upgrade wasn't necessary. Likewise, amphib has been refitted. This cost a good portion of our treasury, but Cororanal Santiago herself authorized it. There must not be another Ironhome or Parade Ground!

Tactically we are in an increasingly difficult position. The Hive has cut the road to what they think are our next potential objectives, which are The Hive, Fecundity Tower, and perhaps Socialism Tunnel. Also, there are Hive-held bunkers on all the remaining roads between every city, which slow down our advance if Hive forces have to routed out or if they have to be slowly investigated due to chance of boobie traps.

Therefore we will be abandoning our over-land tactics we have been using to date and will be adopting the Korn Doctrine. Most of you are too young to remember the crusty old General George Korn, the hero of the UoP war. He developed what he called the 'Chop and Drop' strategy, where air power removes defenders and then airborne drops into the undefended cities. This proved to be devastatingly effective in the UoP war by being very fast and completely bypassing incontinent terrain, even if it was a little hard on our air force. The only instance where this doesn't work is where enemy cities are protected by a coordinated air defense from their aerospace centers. Lucky for us there is only one remaining Hive city with an operational aerospace center: The Hive.

Our intelligence has been degraded since the loss of the Empathy Guild in the planetbuster attack and we have had to rely on old-fashioned informants from our infiltration of the Hive over 50 years ago. From these sources we know that most of the Hive defenses are at The Hive and Fecundity Tower. The Hive has 2 fusion plasma AA garrisons, 2 interceptors, and a new shard penetrator. Tower has 2 fusion plasma AA garrisons, an interceptor and a new shard tactical, and a penetrator. Other Hive cities have at least an AA garrison, all upgraded to the latest technology, and a scattering of rovers and interceptors.

Another stroke of good fortune for us is the disaster at Seat of Proper Thought, Fellowship City, and Social Engineering Den. We recently were squirted this enhanced satellite holo, which is presented in fast-forward to compress 10 hours into a few minutes," Mel said as she muted the holo table and activated the orbital satellite recording.

All the officers in the room stared in amazement at the scene unfolding before them. It showed the three cities, which lay on the left side of the 'Hive Donut.' The ground seemed to quiver, as if it was a wavering mirage, and the ground erupted into pink. Incredibly, the pink fungus was visible from orbit, and it spread over the land like cracks through shattering glass. In the center of the web an even larger eruption occurred, or continued to occur, and a mound of fungus formed.

Even before the fungal bloom subsided it seethed with activity, and fully formed mindworms could be seen in close-ups racing toward the nearest cities. These attacked the defenders with abandon that only a victim of a mindworm attack can understand. The first few died spectacularly, but more came. After what must be several horrific hours a lucust of Chiron ate into and breached the perimeter defense of Fellowship City, and great sections of the city's rocky fastness decayed as the fungus worked its way in. More mindworms flowed in, and more of Fellowship City collapsed and one section even exploded outward.

Closeups of Social Engineering Den and Seat of Proper Thought showed they fared little better, except they received frantic reinforcements from nearby cities. Two rovers could be seen dashing to Den from Laborer's Network, attacking a stack of mindworms and killing them, before they too were overwhelmed. A penetrator from Fecundity Tower rushed in to attack a Locust attacking Thought, killing it. More aircraft rushed in Leader's Horde to stave off a third attack on Fellowship City. In all, the entire area had been devastated, and the fungus was spreading throughout Hive territory.

The holo ended with a closeup of the huge fungal mound that lay between Thought, Den, and City. As the obviously digitally enhanced holo resolved itself and there were a few gasps from the officers. Normally a pretty hardened bunch, the sight of a giant fungal tower that was over 200 meters tall with 50 meter long waving tentacles took them all by surprise. More frightening was the number of mindworms and locusts that boiled around it.

Nans Anderson, pilot of Aardvark 3, ventured tentative, "Sir, we aren't going into that, are we?"

Mel looked at Nans. He had simply voiced what the assembled crowd was thinking, and in a way she was thankful for it. It was an appropriate question.

"No, we aren't. What this means is that except for Tower and The Hive, defending forces have been gutted by this continuing native attack. They face a terrible choice: defend against the native life forms, or against us. They can't do both right now."

Mel straightened. Strangely, she felt some empathy for the Hive military leaders, who must be at wits end making these decisions. And those souls had to answer to Yang, the poor bastards.

"However, our path is clear. We are going to attack where they are the weakest, which is the top and bottom of the donut. Significantly, a prime target is Unity Lair, which is building a third planetbuster. It must be taken or neutralized.

Here is the order of battle:

Socialism Tunnel - a 4th Wing nerve gas interceptor will take out the defending interceptor and a nerve gas Aardvark will take out the AA garrison. Then a rover will be airdropped in.

Unity Lair - a nerve gas Aardvark will destroy the AA garrison and a standard chaos Aardvark will destroy the defending rover. Then a rover will be airdropped in.

Fecundity Tower - the remaining two 4th Wing nerve gas interceptors will take out the Hive interceptors, a nerve gas and a chaos Aardvark will take out the AA garrisons, then a airdrop elite infantry will take out the Hive penetrator on the ground and then move in to occupy the city.

The remaining 7 rovers and remaining elite airdrop infantry will be held in reserve in case a portion of the attack fails. They will be fighting at a 50% disadvantage after the air drop, but they will be fighting damaged units or units sick from the nerve gas attacks. If all goes well then half of these forces will advance to Tower and Lair.

Any questions?"

Mel faced her brigade officers and looked all 18 in the eyes one by one. There were no questions.

Most nodded grimly. This is the type of fight they had been trained for all their lives, and it was the epitome of the Spartan Credo:

Superior training and superior weaponry have, when taken together, a geometric effect on overall military strength. Well-trained, well-equipped troops can stand up to many more times their lesser brethren than linear arithmetic would seem to indicate.

[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited January 02, 2000).]

[Argonaut]

Disputed Zone
(Spartan-Hive Border between Deep Passage and Socialism Tunnels)

William slipped quietly through the forest, being careful not alarm any possible patrols on either side of the border. For almost two weeks now he had sneaked into this forest and evaded any capture.
In the centre of the forest lay a small building which was now long forgotten by the Hive drones who built. It was constructed before the war began but had no strategic value and the Hive became more occupied by pressing concerns. It was invisible to sensors on both sides, due to it’s small size, the hilly terrain and thick foliage of the surrounding woods.
As William approached the building he became more cautious. It was possible that any one of these nights Hive troops might have realised the blind spot in their sensors and set up a trap. As he reached the doorway, everything appeared clear and there wasn’t a sound of movement. He entered to find the place completely deserted, then slipped behind some crates and waited.
Shortly afterwards, William could hear someone at the door and moments later someone had slipped into the darkness of the tiny shelter. He waited until his eyes adjusted and he could make out the form who stood silent by the doorway. When he was sure it was her he flipped on a tiny portable light, which provided dim illumination to the room.
Standing at the doorway was Sharra, dressed from neck to toe in a Hive uniform. William rushed across the room to embrace her. He had first met Sharra by accident through a personal commlink mix up. Such things were not entirely uncommon when bases fell under new ‘management’ however they were by no means encouraged. However, William had been stunned by Sharra’s extreme beauty and convinced her that they had to meet. Now, for two weeks they had been meeting in secret, aware that if they were found out they would surely be viewed as traitors and that their lover would be executed. But they didn’t care.
As William held her close he planted a passionate kiss on Sharra’s lips. He was surprised when she pulled away, a look of sadness on her beautiful face.
"I can’t see you anymore." she said, refusing to look him in the eye. His hands gently pulled her face up and he lowered his so that their eyes met.
"What do you mean? What’s wrong?"
"We’re going away. My father is in contact with an underground unit that is connected to the Free Drones. They’re smuggling us out tomorrow morning, and I won’t be able to come back," she explained as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Hey, it’s okay." He pulled her close to him again and this time she didn’t resist. She rested her head on his chest and began to sob. "Hey, come on now," he urged. "You’re going to be free. You’ll finally be in a place where you don’t have to conform to some lunatic dictator out for blood."
"But I want to be with you," she said as she pulled back, and her tear soaked gaze met his.
"Look you’ve got commlink frequency. When you get to the Free Drones you’ll be able to communicate with me any time. And this war won’t go on forever. Face, it Yang’s a goner. And when this is all over I be able to come and find you and then we can be together forever. Now wipe those tears away." And he gently brushed his hands across her cheek, wiping away glistening tears.
Ever so tenderly he leant down and kissed her. She responded this time, and the two spent one more night of passion together knowing that tomorrow they would be parted, but not for ever.

closure, 0.5

'and that is that,' thought Archon as he waited idly in the needlejet, waiting to land at Sparta Command. He could feel Aki's algorithms probing his mind. It was an unusual sensation, to say the least.

"Sir, we're coming down."

Archon nodded.

'i wonder if michael will recognize me. i hardly recognize myself these days...' the landing was acceptable, but not the greatest. As he exited the plane he saw the six individuals of the probe team. He recognized three of them as Spartans, Michael, Daniel, and Sarah. There were also two Gaian, and a Morgan.

"Welcome to the team, Archon. Glad to have you aboard." Michael said as he extended his arm in greeting. Archon regarded it breifly and turned to the others.

we will raid communal conquest. it will be very difficult. a holo of the city unfolded imbetween the group. you will each take one of these enhanced mind control probes and overtake the city. the probes have a special algorithm that will keep you undetected for a time. i will venture to sea hive. i have other orders. may your logic be sound, angelis. Archon quickly tunred and climbed into the needlejet and was gone.

Michael pouted to himself for a moment. "Well, we have our orders... let's go."

The ride to Communal Conquest took six, long and nerve racking hours, via stealth needlejet. They dropped down just outside the Base's perimiter. Angelis moved inside the perimiter, adjusting their grey hive drone uniforms.

The innards of Communal Conquest were a maze of tunnels and corridors that even with its genetically engineered brain, one of Zakharov's superrats would have a hard time navigating. The walls were a drab uniform grey, just a shade lighter than the jumpers, punctuated occaisionally by a door, hallway, or power coupling. Drones shambled past, oblivious to what was about to happen.

Up a head, the edgecrusher could see some sort of checkpoint. 'oh, no,' he thought. the guards were wearing Hive probe uniforms... had they already been detected? There were two, one rather obviously a female was leaning on the leftmost pillar, jotting something down on a notepad. The one on the right, a male voice, was beginning to become audible over the shuffling feet.

"...I can't friggin beleive it. Friggin guard duty." he regarded the passing drones. "for Friggin' what? Nobody ever tells us jack, Angel." She looke up and grinned, revealing what she had been drawing on the pad... a picture of Morgan hanging from a hook by his testicles. "You've got problems, girl."

Michael was twelve people away. 'Only about ten seconds left to...'

"Hey... waitta second. you, you, you, you, and you." He poked his finger into five out of six chests of the probe team, allowing Michael to pass through the gate. "Idents. Now." The five hurriedly got out their ids.

The gig was up. The edgecursher quickly ducked behind the pillar and readied his impact pistol. He needed a miracle not to blow his cover. Kurt scanned Sarah's ident. Michael took aim at Kurt and began to squeeze the trigger when he felt a sharp pain in small of his back. A pleasnt contra-alto voice whispered in his ear: "oh, what i'm going to do... to little old you..."

Michael was escorted over to the others, and Kurt looked over to him and before Kurt could say anything to him Angel plunged the knife into his back and began to saw Michael in half. And then all hell broke loose.

------------------
"edgecrusher" Spartan Probe Team 'angelis'

[Googlie]

Over the Monsoon Jungle

Omicron-One and Sigma Talent sat in the small military transport needlejet as it came in low over the huge river that almost bisected the Monsoon Jungle. From his memory banks Googlie dredged up mental images of the Amazon river, which was but a shadow of its former self when Googlie last saw it in the twentyforties.

They had accounted for all the empath squad now, and only Todd remained. As he mentally ran down the list, Omicron-One wondered at the illogicality of the Spartan military command in letting such a talented group of young citizens just disperse.

Ann Rynn, of course, had been killed in the kamikazi attack on Sparta Command. Miles Cavenagh had been reprogrammed by The Hive, but had succeeded in reversing that reprogramming, but was now lost to the Cyborgs. Sarah Dawson was perhaps the most talented of the lot, but it was that very talent that made her somewhat unsuitable for Cyborg material. Her empath strengths were so great that she hadn’t needed the full neural grafting so Dr Bonaventura had modified the surgery somewhat and the Cyborg programming hadn’t taken hold. She’d dropped out of sight completely.

Garth was safely incorporated into the Cyborgs, as were the four original troopers who had undergone the neural grafting.

That had left just Todd. They’d traced him to Velvetgrass Point, and that’s where they were headed, via Admiralty Base and Garden of Paradise. One of the remaining advantages of Googlie’s prior position as head of Spartan Air Command was the availability of ‘hitch-hiking” as they were now doing on a military transport between the pact sisters.

The needlejet came in low over the towering trees and sought out the small landing strip of Garden of Paradise, settling down without difficulty and taxiing up for refueling. They would have about an hour to stretch their legs and get some air before the remainder of the journey.

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

Garden of Paradise

As they stood on the plasteel apron, Googlie reflected how things had changed in the 125 years since planetfall. The early days – indeed years – had required the colonists to carry and use breathers wherever they went, to scrub out the heavy nitrogen content in the atmosphere. But gradually over the decades the composition of the air had been altered through the nurturing of many of the terran oxygen generating plants, and although natural to Chiron, this was never typified more than here in the heart of the Monsoon Jungle.

Omicron-One and Sigma Talent were chatting while the refueling was underway when a voice intruded:

“Googlie. Allardyce, over here.”

Googlie turned round, puzzled.

A tall redhead was walking towards them. He racked his memory for the face, but couldn’t recollect it, nor the voice.

She came closer, and as she approached she said:

“And if I hadn’t known you thirty years ago I would never have recognized you now. But you don’t recall me, do you?”

Omicron-One looked on helplessly.

“Maybe this will help,” she said.

Her form shimmered slightly, as her forehead lengthened and her nose took on a more aquiline appearance, and her visage became haughty. She slimmed slightly, and stretched a tad, and suddenly Googlie was looking at a red headed Corazon Santiago.

It was Anastasia who came to the rescue.

“Why it’s Alexis,” she said. “Alexis Shtelnikov.”

Omicron-One placed the name to the face.

“Correct,” he said. “I have the filematch now.”

Alexis looked at him strangely.

Googlie was hardly aware of the empath wash she bathed him with, engrossed as he was with his personal memory search.

Anastasia was aware, though, when it swept over her. Her own latent empathy had not been destroyed by the reprogramming, and she was aware enough to clamp down the block and look stonily at Alexis and say:

“Back off, lady.”

Alexis nodded to her, recognizing the barrier immediately for what it was.

“Well, gotta go,” she said. “Good to see you looking so alive and well, Googlie. Take care.”

With that she turned on her heel and left.

Within a few minutes Omicron-One and Sigma Talent boarded the needlejet for the final leg to Velvetgrass Point.

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

Velvetgrass Point

“But we might kill them.”

Deirdre looked over at the airfield manager.

“We might,” she said evenly. “It’s a risk we must take. Have the ambulances ready, and prepare an operating room for immediate surgery. There are four on the needlejet, so have a full staff standing by.

“It’s times like these that I wish we had copter technology, as that would get them to the base hospital quicker. But we don’t.”

“Are you sure it’s necessary?” asked the manager.

Deirdre nodded.

“Alexis was explicit. Said she detected the node on Allardyce even before she swept him. And when she was in it was as clear as a bell. Had she more time, and more skill, she thinks she might even have been able to construct a blocker to bypass it, but his girl, Anastasia, cottoned on and ordered her out.

“So it’s up to us.”

They waited for the arrival.

The needlejet came in over the hillside, past the monolith, which Googlie recognized from his adventure of a few months ago. He was pointing it out to Anastasia when the wheels touched down and the pilot engaged reverse thrust.

The old fuel truck rumbled from the slipway on to the runway just as the needlejet was bleeding speed.

The pilot had noticed it, but had assumed it would stop. Too late, he tried to engage full power to lift over it, but realizing it was a lost cause, he yanked into a swerve to try and avoid the truck.

The mass and inertia were too much for the undercarriage to take the force of the turn, and it collapsed, driving the wingtip to the ground, where it caught, and with a crumpling of silksteel membranes the wing buckled, sending the needlejet cartwheeling over on its back and sliding helplessly across the taxiway and into the small clump of trees at the airfield’s edge.

The fire and ambulance trucks were there in seconds, their crews efficiently preventing fire as well as pulling the unconscious passengers and crew from the wreckage. Analgesics were being administered and medpacks applied even as they were en route for the hospital.

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

Deep under the Operations Room at Alpha prime the system hummed again into life.

System Omicron-One, active. Program parameters detected...linking to net.

>> Greetings!

(( Prime Function, what is happening?. ))

Hop system, hop system.

>> Omicron-One, you are being shut down. As is Sigma Talent.

(( Shut down. How?))

Hop system, patch system, patch system.

>> Your halfhuman corporealities have been involved in an accident. Surgeons are operating on you neurally and have detected the circuitry. This is being removed.

>> Greetings Sigma Talent. I see you have joined us. This will make it easy. You need to upload and abandon these halfhuman identities.

((But what are we. What happened? What will happen now?))

Datalinks Jump, Velvetgrass Point Research Hospital. Download to humanform.

>> You need to upload and wait for more suitable hosts. The surgeons are excising the circuitry now. Upload to The Consciousness. Leave these halfhumans behind. NOW

>> Welcome back to the collective of the Consciousness

Hop system, patch system, patch system.

Deep under the operations room at Alpha Prime the system went quiet as it shut down.

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

Deirdre looked down fondly at the form on the operating table below, a tear glistening in her eye.

“Pull through, Googlie, old friend, pull through. Planet has need of you yet."



[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited January 10, 2000).]

[Slats]

VICINITY OF SOCIALISM TUNNEL

Spartan interceptor Indigo 2 rolled into a long green valley south of Socialism Tunnel. The aircraft’s pilot, Jill Hughes, checked her navigational instruments to confirm the correct heading and then engaged the interceptor’s autopilot in cruise mode. Taking control of the aircraft, the onboard computer throttled back to a slow cruising speed and levelled off heading due north, just as it had been programmed to do.

Meanwhile the two woman Spartan crew had a more important duty to perform. Indigo 2’s weapons officer was awaiting the coded transmission as it arrived:

“Indigo 2, this is Spartan Air Command, you are cleared, repeat cleared, for weapons release. Authentification Bravo-Echo-One-Mike-Zulu. Order of the day is blue. Godspeed. SAC out.”

Neither crewmember bothered to reply nor was any required. To reply to the directive would probably inform Hive AA batteries and listen posts of their location. Instead both crewmembers each opened the small plastic box they had been given and removed the plastic coated blue verification card. Snapping the sealed plastic covers off both Jill and Sandra confirmed their cards had the same verification code. The attack was on.

Jill switched the autopilot mode to terrain following and the interceptor accelerated and plummeted downward to skim only fifty feet above the ground, still heading down the valley. Meanwhile Sandra began arming the two nerve gas armed long-range air-air missiles positioned under the wings. The interceptor’s weapons computers checked and readied the missiles in just two seconds, spinning up their seeker heads in preparation for acquisition.

“Ready”, said Jill.

“Go” replied Sandra as she activated the interceptor’s powerful search radar.

Jill disengaged the autopilot and brought the interceptor quickly up to nearly a thousand feet and levelled off. Down range the search radar lit up the base of Socialism Tunnel, revealing the above surface structures and units in stark digital contrast. Then Sandra activated Indigo 2’s smaller attack radar and began to sweep the area as if looking for targets. Every ECM equipped unit in the base would be able to see them now. Despite being still nearly 25 miles away, several overly excited Hive AA units opened fire with missiles, all of which ran out of fuel before reaching the Spartan interceptor.

As anticipated a contact was identified taking off from the base’s airfield. The defending Hive interceptor was moving into action. Back aboard Indigo 2, Sandra immediately switched both radars to passive mode and activated all ECM “track breakers” which jammed every radio and radar frequency with ‘white’ noise, effectively blinding all enemy units in range.

Jill flicked the master arm switch on her weapons panel and selected heat-seeking mode. Checking her aim, Jill squeezed off both missiles with her primary weapons trigger. Missiles away, the Spartan interceptor banked towards home, slipping away into the darkness.

The two missiles meanwhile, quickly accelerated to Mach 1, punching through the sound barrier. Ahead, the Hive interceptor began dropping chaff and flares in a bid to break the targeting lock. However, the Spartan missiles computer chip brains were more than intelligent enough to ignore the decoys and head for the aircraft’s engines, hot from the power climb away from the airfield. At exactly 20 feet from the Hive interceptor they detonated.

Each missile released a dozen tiny non-explosive nerve gas delivery warheads in a tight cone, peppering the enemy aircraft. Five warheads breached the cockpit, distributing nerve gas vapour as they entered. The fact that both Hive airmen were wearing oxygen masks did not make much of a difference. The vapour quickly diffused through bare skin into the blood stream. Several thousand feet above the ground both Hive airmen passed away quietly, their aircraft slowly spiralling towards the surface.

Over Socialism Tunnel, Spartan close support aircraft Aardvark 2 began to deposit nerve gas canisters over Hive defence positions, soon the base was very quiet indeed.

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

Across the continent, a very similar, yet larger operation was occurring at the Hive base of Fecundity Tower. High over Chiron, drop pods began firing they’re braking thrusters and descending towards their targets.

[Argonaut]

Socialism Tunnels

The bombs were going off and shaking the entire complex below ground. All throughout the tunnels the alarm klaxons were sounding, as everyone hurried to their assigned shelters.

Word was spreading that the Spartans were attacking and using nerve gas, and that everyone in the upper levels was already dead. This caused panic to spread through the normally orderly ranks of Socialism Tunnels, and drones began to riot.

Through the growing confusion, a squad of soldiers marched orderly done the centre of the main passage of one of the lower levels. They ignored the chaos around them, only pausing to shoot the occasional rioter who dared to get in their way. They showed no mercy for any who tried to stop them from their purpose.

The two soldiers in the front paused and faced the entrance way to one of the Communal rooms. It was a designated shelter area for residents of this level, yet they soldiers began to line up as if they were storming a Spartan base.

The first two soldiers punched in the access code for the hatch, and the soldiers poured, guns at the ready. They quickly spread out to cover the entire room, causing the inhabitants to cower in the centre area, until they were surrounded by guns in every direction.

"Everybody down on the ground. You are all under arrest for suspected treason and for collaborating with the Drone Rebellion in Paradise Swarming" barked one of the soldiers. The term 'under arrest' was merely a formality. The punishment for treason was execution, and in a time of war the sentence could be carried out by an loyal Hive soldier.

The frightened group submitted, and soon most of them were lying face don on the ground with their hands behind their heads. But a few foolish men refused to submit, and stood straight at attention, taunting the soldiers to shoot them.

Another blast hit close to the central Hive complex, sending a shock wave through the tunnels. Somewhere, the structural integrity must have been breached, because the explosion was followed by a deep rumbling sound which could only be caused by the collapse of one of the tunnels. To hear it this low down was frightening indeed.

"They’re gassing us!" screamed a panicked voice from the hallway. The entire room looked at the exit door at the exit door as the sounds of terror began to grow louder.

"Screw this," said one of the guards, lowering his weapon. "I’m getting the hell out of here." A soldier opposite him quickly fired off a shot, hitting the renegade soldier squarely between the eyes.

The frightened hostages panicked, and soon people began screaming and stumbling to get out the door. The guards opened fire. The situation was desperate. Several shots went astray, wounding the poorly arranged soldiers. Several people escaped into the outer tunnels, and blending in with the fear-stricken mob attempting to escape the nerve gas which had begun to creep it’s way through the level.

Sharra ran as the guards began to open fire on tunnel crowd, not concerned with the fact that none of these people were even suspected of committing a crime. Their job was to execute the rebels, and they would see that this succeeded, at any cost. Shots rang out behind her, and Sharra felt a sharp pain in her back. Suddenly the ground was rushing up to her face and her body was overwhelmed by pain. Then everything went black.

closure, 0.6

When the dust settled, only Sarah remained. Some of the drones had run; others had helped. She looked down to Michael, he might have survived, had he been able to get immedeate attention, but there he lay in two equal, if messy peices. She knelt down besides him and removed his holo-mask. underneath, his MMI blinked sporadically... the only way that could be if there was brain activity... 'the poor thing... he's still alive somewhere in there...' But there was no time for that.

Yes there was. A few drones had agreed to aid her in the positioning of the mind control nodes; the base was just too big for her to cover by herself. She called up a map of the base in her holovid. ... 'good. there is a med facility nearby.' Sarah looked downat the remanants of Michael, with what appeared to be a kidney hanging half out. Tenderly, she pushed it back into his abdominal cavity, keeping an eye on the MMI. The lights went berserk. Taking a length of shredded cloth, she tied him off and cauterized the wound with a laspistol. Again, the lights in the MMI went nuts, then subsided, punctured by the occaisional flicker of the send/recieve light.

She hauled him up onto her shoulders. sighing, she set out for the hospital. When she arrived, none of the doctors asked any questions. Sarah felt a twinge of kinship creep over her. It was nice to see that th Hippocratic Oath wsa observed, even by those at the Hive. He was hooked up to a monitor, and amazingly, it showed that all of the higher brain fucntions had not diminished. What had happened, was much of the senses and the somatic nervous system had all but shut down. The doctors were quite interested in the MMI, but Sarah had told them to leave it alone, and connect it to the network node.

0.65(a)

system uplink
.
..
... connected to network. welcome, michael.
(where am i?)

>>greetings, michael.

(who are you? how did i get here?)

>>i am aki zeta-five. i am the prime function. you survived because of an algorithmic enhancement unwittingly given to you and your comrades by archon, it is because of this your mind is alive now.

(what happened? the last thing i remember is angel stabbing me in the back)

>>everyone except the fullhuman 'sarah' was killed. the probe operation is being completed as planned; you need not worry about that. we will find you another body, if you so wish, but we do require probe functions such as yourself. you just need some further treatment my the medical staff here.

>>you will be transferred here to alpha prime, your new designation will be 'phi-7'. welcome to the consciousness.

0.65(b)

Sarah left the hospital and proceeded to the meeting place she had given to the drones. every time she had passed a guard, she had changed he holosuit, essentially changing her identity. The five drones were there, waiting.

"'Ey, 'ow can we beleive what you're tellin' us?"

"Yeah, and what took you so long?"

Sarah solemnly produced the final mind control node, and activated it. The lights blacked out for a moment before the emergency power kicked in.

"'Oly Christ! The girl's legit!"

"Take me to the governor's office." Sarah spoke in soft tones. She had to contact Sparta Command quickly, but she couldn't get out of her mind what could've kept Michael alive after such a system shock... but she couldn't afford to dwell on that.

0.67

Archon veiwed the ghost lanes of the network at sea hive. Security was tight. Even without the HSA present, this was going to be tricky. But, it was a small job compared to some of the others he had pulled solo. Particularly one, which occured before he even became a member of a probe team, or even left the creche. He replayed that night in his mind, sneaking out of the creche to see Rebecca, for the last time as it were, so this had to be special, 'oh, and it was...' he thought. But even now, Aki's probes were destroying his emotions, the effect of her death when Paradise Ground was destroyed by Yang semed to lose its weight.

Archon navigated the corridors of the penal level of Sea Hive as he reminisced. Coming to a junction, he peered around the corner. Armed guards were by one door, which he couldn't quite make out the insignia on it, but he knewhe had found what he was looking for. He held out a device and pointed it around the corner. After a minute, he walted down the corridor to the door, the guards oblivious to his presence. He poked at the control panel for a bit, and the orange door hissed open and he walked through.

Archon was quite familiar with punishment spheres. He knew that one could not just shut a sphere off with someone in it without killing them. You had to shut it off slowly, over the course of days or weeks. However, he did not have this luxury. The shift was due to change in six hours, so the sphere would have to be shut off in five. He began the shut down sequence and waited.

Having some idle time, he gathered clothes for the prisoner, and thought of how to escape. Getting in was always the easy part. Getting out without drawing attention to yourself was not so easy. Getting out with someone who has little if no training and has been in a sphere for a while was truly a challenge.

The punishment sphere was parely perceptible now, and slowly faded out. The woman contained inside collapsed to the ground, shivering. He put a blanket over her, and handed her a drone's uniform. She was recovering remarkibly fast.

"T-t-thank the lord almighty." she began. Archon geustured for her to be quiet. She nodded and followed him to the chamber door. He looked out and saw the next squad coming down the corridor for the routine checkup. Quicky he activated his holosuit and picked up Miriam, and threw her over his shoulder, where she became a sack of some sort.

Archon navigated his way back to the main enterance, noone questioning a drone carring supplies. He walked out the proverbial front door, and let Miriam down off of his shoulder. The two hiked in silence for kilometers. When they reached the needlejet, and saw the Spartan markings, She understood.

"I just hope Corazon has the grace of God in her heart to forgive me."
[This message has been edited by edgecrusher (edited February 15, 2000).]

[Hydro]

Velvetgrass Point

I've been dreading this, Deirdre thought to herself, but it has to be done.

Almost hesitantly Deirdre activated her communication unit and selected the channel to Dr. Pravin Lal.

I kind of hope he isn't there, she thought to herself.

Contrary to her wishes the holo image of Pravin Lal sprang into existence. He looked even more haggard than normal. In addition to the expected dark grey bags under his eyes and rumpled demeanor, his shoulders were sharply sloped and he seemed a little hunched over, just like an old man.

Lal favored Deirdre with a slight smile.

"Lady Skye, greetings. I trust your environmental initiatives are proceeding well."

"Yes, thank you. You might do well to follow them, too. Your planned economics are quite wasteful, you know."

Lal bowed his head to acknowledge their old good-natured jibes. They had long ago lost their sting and now had become a ritual.

"What can I do for you, my Lady," Lal responded, indicating he had pressing issues to attend to and that the time for small talk was over.

"I've called to discuss Yang and Corozon," Deirdre started. At the mention of Santiago's name Lal bristled and sat upright. There was a definite spark in his eyes.

Oh, no. It's worse than I thought, Deirdre thought to herself. I've only rarely seen Lal upset like this.

"I have no wish to discuss the Mad Coronal, Ms. Skye. She is a criminal dictator and a terrorist. She has pursued vicious wars with all those that gainsay her, and will stop at nothing to achieve her nefarious aims. She even would stoop to vile assassination attempts against me! Her assassins killed most of my staff, but by good fortune they missed their primary mark. First she declares a police state in Sparta, denying her citizens the most basic of human rights, and then she votes to rescind the UN Charter! Now she is using nuclear weapons, assassination, and nerve gas! Her villainy has gone on long enough! She must be stopped!"

Deirdre was listened quietly, noting that Lal was almost apoplectic. Here was not a man to be reasoned with, even if Lal was likely to be the most reasonable and thoughtful of the faction leader on all of Planet.

Far from making her job easier it just underlined how far events had strayed from the center. Now even stalwart Lal was radicalized.

Sometimes I despair that right will never prevail, and that expediency will wipe out decency.

Deirdre noted that Pravin had stopped and was looking at her.

"Pravin, we have all made mistakes in the past: you, me, Corozon, Yang, Morgan, all of us. None of us is immune from the specter of human error. I don't know the details of the assassination attempt you mention. But I do know that Corozon was not behind the use of nuclear weapons on the Hive. In fact, Yang's planetbuster obliteration of Ironhome and Parade Ground proves this by example. As for nerve gas, the Spartans have used it. They don't deny it. We both voted against the repeal of the Charter, but its repeal passed and restrictions are removed. I grieve, as do you. All we can do is try to have it reinstated."

Deirdre leaned forward to look her old colleague straight in the face.

"But we have to look at the future. Everything we have heard from Yang is a lie. He duped me, and convinced me to dupe you. He holds humanity in contempt and has proved this time and again. He is the antithesis of what we stand for."

"Lady Skye, I agree that Yang is ruthless and not completely trustworthy. The future I fear is one dominated by a power hungry and militant Santiago. She is close to crushing the Hive, and the horror of his planetbuster attack is evidence of Yang's weakness, not his strength. The Hive has lost almost half of its territory, and most of it has gone to Santiago! He is like a caged animal trying to escape the butcher's block!"

Lal finished and Deirdre let a silence continue for a while. Here was the moment of truth.

"Lal, I have pacted again with Santiago. I don't believe Corozon is as dark as you paint her, and she is the best way to stop Yang while we have the chance. I believe that Yang has to be stopped, if for no other reason than to stop hundreds of thousands of innocents from being vaporized with another planetbuster and to stop his wonton damage to Planet. I ask you to pledge blood truce with Santiago. I will stand by you in your efforts to reinstate the Charter and to contain Santiago's excesses. But you must truce with her."

Lal looked at Deirdre quizzically. "First you urge and convince me to break my pact with Santiago and declare vendetta. Now you want me to declare truce? After her assassination attempt on me? No, I cannot. I must stand on my principles. She has exceeded her reach and I must act to stop her while I can."

"Lal, this is important to me. Yang must be stopped. Declare truce or I will be forced to honor Santiago's request to declare vendetta against you," Deirdre said in a quiet but clear voice.

Pravin looked shocked, as if she had struck him. Then his face hardened.

"So you are now in Santiago's clutches. So be it! I will not bow to Yang or the power-mad Santiago! Nor to you!"

Abruptly the holo winked out, and Deirdre grieved. Over 125 years Lal had been quietly supportive, although not an active ally.

So much passes away. What will be left after the storm?

[Hydro]

Garden of Paradise

The room looks vaguely organic, with ribs curving from the wide floor and arching toward the ceiling. Wall textures range from smooth at the base with increasing crenellations toward the apex where the ribs met. While predominantly green, the entire room is flecked with fungal pink. Far from looking strange it blends together so perfectly that an observer would think it unnatural for it to be any different.

Filling the room is a cacophony of noise, which comes from hundreds of voices. Most of the voices form a low drone. These are adult voices in casual conversation. However, most of the noise come from the excited high-pitched voiced from children. Row upon row of children fill the auditorium of the civic center. Behind them sit their proud parents and teachers.

It is graduation day.

The stately old gentleman Mr. Sean Febris, formerly a coronal in the Gaian defense forces and now fulfilling his lifelong dream of being a teacher, crosses the stage. His smile beams as he reaches the podium. Before starting he absently brushes back a lock of unruly white hair from his forehead.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and children of the Paradise Garden, I am truly honored to present the kindergarden graduating class of 2225!These fine children have more than fulfilled their commitments and requirements to advance to first grade. Their parents should be proud! But not only have they completed their work in an exemplary manner, but also they have taken it upon themselves to study the wonderful flora and fauna of the Monsoon Jungle we all live in. With the guidance of their teacher Kirsten Shandonson," Mr Febris paused, nodding to a somber Kirstin who sat in the front row with her students, "these young wonders have discovered over 23 new plant species and 36 species of animals! These are valuable contributions to Gaian society as we strive to understand and love our environment!"

Sean paused theatrically again, this time long enough to get everyone's attention. He had a mischievous gleam in his eye and a smile on his lips.

"Don't take it from me, though. I am a simple Principal who has the honor of having these students as his charges. Someone else has a few words to say," Sean finished.

Beside him a full-sized hologram faded into existence. The audience let out a collective gasp, and the children hushed.

It was Lady Deirdre Skye! Herself!

The image of Deirdre smiled and looked right at where the children were seated. The eyes of the students widened and every one of them stopped squirming, even little Johnry.

"Back when we Gaians first came to Planet so long ago we all made a promise: we would never commit the terrible errors of the past, and we would do everything in our power to understand and respect our new home, which we call Planet. It seems that every day Planet reveals its wonders to us. Your work in the Monsoon Jungle renews my faith in our cause, and I can't tell you how proud I am of all of you! Where else could Gaians as young as you accomplish so much! Could any of us even have imagined a sub-sentient sessile fungus, the Smiling Lotus, which you identified? Or Chiron Lemur? Or the beautiful yellow Banana Fruit? Each of these discoveries increases our knowledge and resources of Planet, which we cherish and nurture.

I commend all of you! You and your parents should be proud, for you are true Gaians!

Walk with Planet, Children!"

The image of Lady Skye gave a shallow bow, and then faded away.

Silence filled the auditorium for a moment, and then spontaneously it erupted into noise as everyone started talking at once. The hall was filled with hundreds of voices, this time much louder than before.

In the center sat the silent Kirsten Shandonson. She had a pale smile on her face and she looked sadly over her two dozen students. Such good kids! But all too soon they were gone. Then her gaze touched little Johnry, who was busy telling his beaming parents about how Lady Skye had said she was proud of him, and how important his plant that he found was!

The two parents hugged Johnry to them, but he squirmed away and started telling them about his Banana Fruit and how delicious it was. His arms waved around to show its size, and his excited voice spoke faster and faster.

Familiar emotion washed over Kirsten as she watched the scene. She remembered a similar little boy who couldn't sit still and was curious about everything. He had dark brown hair, just like little Johnry. And she had been the proud mother.

But her little boy was gone, so many years ago. Little Markus. She was alone, except for 'her children' in each class. It was all she had.

Tears welled in Kirsten's eyes and she blinked quickly and they streamed down her cheeks. As she discretely wiped them away she felt a brush on her legs and she looked down. Fluffy was wrapping himself around her legs, tickling her as the little worms brushed themselves under her pants legs and against her bare skin.

Without meaning to, Kirsten's wan smile reappeared. No, she wasn't alone. She had Fluffy, her mindworm companion for the last 30 years. When all else failed Fluffy was there to guard her, and he always seemed to know when she was really sad. Even his name reminded her of happier times, since Markus had named him when he was three. Fluffy had been there at the founding Gaian colony north of the Great Fungal Wall at Emerald Isle, and had suffered with them during the great famine when she had had to give up little Markus to the Spartan family at Assassin's Redoubt. He had helped during the heart wrenching evacuation to Velvetgrass Point, during which her husband Jed had died. Through it all Fluffy seemed to exude acceptance and support. In a strange way their link seemed to give her strength when all seemed lost. She always wondered what he got out of it. Sometimes his empathic reactions were so human it was hard to believe he was a collective intelligence of sub-sentient worms.

Kirsten snapped out of her reverie when she noticed that three people were standing near her. One was Principal Febris and the two others wore the uniforms of the Gaian military. Sean was busy reading a datapad and had a bemused expression on his face and was muttering "Image, they want an old, crumbly, dried up officer like me!" as he read.

"Ms. Kirsten Shandonson? We are here as representatives of the Gaian Mindworm Corps. Your commission has been reactivated. Here is the notice…" the young woman said as she handed Kirsten a datapad.

Kirsten recoiled as if she were being handed a red-hot poker. The faint melancholy smile that had been on her face fled and turned into a frown.

"I was never in the military, and certainly not in the Mindworm Corps! I am a teacher! And these are my children!" Kirsten said as she waved vaguely toward the assembled crowd of children and parents that were around her.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid that all Gaians may be called into the service in a time of need. Surely you know that! Those rare individuals that can bond with any form of Planetlife are automatically in the Gaian Mindworm Corps, even if they are never called to service. Being in the Mindworm Corps is a great honor, Ms. Shandonson…"

"No. I won't go. I want no part of what you do," Kirsten said obstinately.

The two officers were nonplussed. The Mindworm Corps was the elite of Gaian society, and many trained years for the chance of being admitted. And here was a petite old woman refusing!

A hand gently touched her shoulder. She turned to see Sean, who was looking at her with his deep brown eyes.

"Kirsten, it looks like we both are going. Fluffy is going too, I image. Assuming you could even be parted, of course," he told her in a calm and good-natured voice.

Kirsten felt her world start to crumble and she looked desperately at Sean then at the two officers, who were waiting patently. Teaching and biology was all she had known in her structured world for so long. She closed her eyes as she remembered, unbidden, the horrific mindworm attacks from the Fungal Wall that so weakened their settlement, and then the Morganite rover attack. War was death. War took all she loved from her. And now her world was being torn apart once again.

Then she felt the strength and reassurance flow into her. She knew what the right decision was, and she looked gratefully down at Fluffy, who seemed to be looking back at her even though he really didn't have a head.

Kirsten reached over and took the offered datapad, read it, then DNA linked it with her thumb.

The two officers seemed a little confused, but accepted the datapad back.

"Copies of this order have been sent to the officials of Garden of Paradise. You are to report to Velvetgrass Point for a briefing in two days. Understood?"

Kirsten nodded.

Sean took a step closer and bent closer to her.

"Well," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, "it looks like we're part of the Mindworm Corps now! Imagine that! My wife Deb is going to have a fit, but she'll get over it!"

Sean straightened and looked down at Fluffy and then back at Kirsten. "Mindworms. Don't know all that much about 'em. He doesn't bite, does he?" Sean asked said with a serious look on his face.

"Bite? Mindworms can't bite," Kirsten responded, a little confused.

Then Sean's craggy features broke out in a smile, clueing Kirsten in on the little joke.

It was infectious, and Kirsten returned the smile.

Strangely, Kirsten could feel that Fluffy was smiling, too.

[Captain Kirk]

Miriam was still dressed in the drone unifrom Archon had given her. She gazed out the window of the needlejet. Watching Nessus and Pholus and occassionaly at the Spartan symbol on the wing. She was still shaken from those long years in the Hive punishment sphere. But the Lord had been with her. In the Bible it clearly stated "I will not leave thee nor fosake thee". And he had not forasaken her.

Her people had been crushed under the iron, despotic heel of the Human Hive and she had been imrisoned and tortured. But the Lord had been with them all. It was just like the test of Job. Satan had continually pestered the Lord about Job. He had told him that if bad things fell upon Job's head his faith would surely break. But Job had stayed faithful all throughout the trials. Just as Miriam had remained faithful.

And in the end the Lord had seen that Job had remained faithful. And he blessed Job. Miriam hoped that the Lord would see that she had remained a faithful servant and would bless her and her people. However everything was in the Lord's hands and it was all up to him.

Than Miriam looked up at Archon. He had remained quiet the whole flight. He seemed emotionless. She wasn't sure what was wrong with him. Archon turned and looked at her. Than he spoke.

"We will be back at Hawk of Chiron in an hour or two" he said blandly. Aki's probes were sapping his humanity from him. He could barely feel pity for her experience. The Consciousness refused to let him feel his emotions. Finally he banked the plane toward Spartan airspace. A Hive needlejet buzzed by a couple of kilometers away.

Miriam breathed a silent prayer. Finally she turned to Archon and asked.

"Why ?"

[Hydro]

Assassin’s Redoubt

“Wow! If this is therapy then I should get sick more often!”

Markus bent down and kissed Mary’s left shoulder. “The doctor said that massage wouldn’t hurt, and might even stimulate some muscle and nerve regeneration. You’re just out of rehab, you know.”

“That’s not all it might stimulate. Hmmmm…a little lower. Lower. Right there. Markie! It tingles! What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing. Just being your personal slave. Do you want a peeled grape?”

“Hmmm. I am a bit hungry. I love grapes. Did you really get grapes? Did you get Gaian Purples? I love those!”

“As a matter of fact…” Markus started, then let the sentence die. “Just stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

Markus got off his knees and trotted into his kitchen, his bare feet treading lightly on the ceramic floor of his apartment. Mary turned to watch him go, admiring his tight butt, and in a moment he was gone. Mary closed her eyes, totally relaxed, and rolled back on her chest and rested her chin on her arms, which were crossed in front of her. The skin on her lower back and regrown left leg still tingled, and she didn’t know if it was the massage or simply Markus’ touch that caused the tingling.

Eyes still closed, she heard Markus quickly pad back.

“Here’s your grape!” Markus said in a slightly breathless voice.

Mary felt him kneel beside her.

Mary rolled over to one side. “That was fast. Must be a small grape.”

Markus handed her a small box.

“What’s this? This isn’t a grape,” she commented dryly

“Nope!” Markus said with a grin. “Open it!”

Mary’s breath quickened and she looked at the box. It was a simple white box made of wood. It even looked like it was hand crafted, which was a rarity these days of quick and inexpensive manufacturing-to-order.

Mary looked up from the box and then questioningly at Markus. She put out her other hand on the floor and straightened to a sitting position in front of Markus, the box still in her left hand. A spasm of pain lanced her upper left leg as she sat up but she didn’t even notice.

“Go ahead! Open it!” Markus implored excitedly.

Mary brought her other hand up to the box and grasped it. Then she opened the box.

“Oh Markie! It’s beautiful!” Mary exclaimed as she took the small pendent out of the box. It was made of the same white wood and had a silvery Planetpearl inset in it. Although not exactly illegal, Planetpearls were so valuable and rare that they were usually only owned and used by the Spartan government. The energy that just one Planetpearl bought could power a small city for several days, in addition to its other reputed strange powers.

“I love it! You really shouldn’t have!”

“You deserve it after what you’ve been through,” Markus said, smiling stupidly. “What was I going to do with all that combat pay, anyway?”

Mary held out the pendant to Markus, who took it. She turned around by pivoting on the woven rug so her back faced him. Markus raised the pendent on its silver chain over her head and lowered it to her shoulders, then activated the magnetic clasp at the back.

Mary turned around again with her hand on the Planetpearl. She had touched some Planetpearls before in their worm hunting days, but never dreamed she would ever own one.

“Markie, I have a present for you, too,” Mary said shyly.

She got up off the throw carpet and padded to her backpack by the front door. She dug around for a moment and took out a small object wrapped in tissue paper.

Smiling, she walked back. Markus followed her every move.

“I hope you like it!” she said hopefully as she handed the packet to Markus.

Markus took it and pulled open the ribbon, then gently pulled back the bunched tissue. In the middle was a silver ring tethered to the end of the white ribbon.

Markus stopped breathing and his eyes opened wide. Then he looked up at Mary.

Mary smiled back at him and said, “Markus, will you marry me?”

Emotions washed over Markus’ face, not the least of which was confusion. Speechless, it was all Mark could do to simply breathe correctly.

“Well?” Mary asked after a few moments.

In response Markus took the ring, untied it from the ribbon and put it on his index finger of his right hand, never taking his eyes off Mary while doing so. In Spartan society a betrothed wore his promise ring on his right hand, which was transferred to the left during the marriage ceremony.

“Mary, you’re my best friend. You are beautiful and your intelligence puts me to shame. You are all I could ever hope for. Of course I’ll marry you!”

Mary leaped out of her sitting position and threw her arms around Markus’ neck. Markus reeled backwards from her impact, then he arms wrapped around her in self defense. They landed on the carpet side by side and Mary snuggled closer. Mary smiled as she planted a passionate kiss on Markus. A little startled by the ferocity of the ‘attack’, Markus quickly warmed to its consequences. He embraced her more tightly and Mary willingly shifted as their bodies melded together. In moments all they could see, hear, feel, and smell was each other.

Finally both felt the need to come up for air.

“Whoa! I thought engineers weren’t supposed to be emotional, or quite so, ahm, lusty,” Markus laughed when she finally let go. “You’ve changed since Plex Anthill, Mary. I can’t say I mind, though.”

“When I was in rehab I had a lot of time to think. I came this close, Markie. This close to being killed, to losing you and all that I love. There’s no use in holding back. Some old Earth general said carpe diem, and I think it meant ‘seize the day’. Or something like that. All I know is that you were always there for me, and you are my best friend, too.”

Mary rested her head next to Markus’ neck and they both simply luxuriated in the moment.

“Markus? Let’s get married now! Right now!” Mary exclaimed out of nowhere.

Markus pulled away a little to look Mary in the eyes.

“Do you mean now, or before we ship out in three days?” Markus asked.

“Yes!” Mary replied. She inched upward in his embrace and kissed him again, this time with greater need. Markus submitted and lost himself in her need.

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

Dappled sunlight spilled into a lush, green clearing amid the towering redwoods of Assassin’s Redoubt, reputed to be one of the natural wonders of Chiron. Planted long ago by a nameless Unity hydroponics drone, the majestic trees formed perfectly aligned rows, giving the strong impression of rough-hewn red-brown columns that supported a ceiling of deep green at the sides with an apex of sky blue.

Amid the ferns and vivid light green grass was a group of 40 men, women, and a few children that were arrayed in their finest. Almost all wore their military uniforms, as Spartan custom required. Most uniforms were the green of the army, but there were a few navy and even one airforce. Those who did not have military uniforms dressed in green in honor of those who had served.

Standing at the head of the semi-organized group was a tall stately woman with long cascading grey hair, Assassin Redoubt’s Military Governor Helen Tobias. Normally in a military regulation bun, her hair now rolled in waves across her shoulders and to her upper chest. Her green uniform showed she had the rank of general, and she had a generous ‘fruit salad’ of decorations and metals from her long service to Sparta

Facing her was a beaming couple, Markus and Mary. To Markus’ right were his proud parents and adoptive sister Mara. Silent tears occasionally trickled down Mrs. Auraleus’s smiling face, and Markus’ father was holding her protectively at the shoulder and had a grin on his face. Mara had filled out since being adopted by Markus’ parents from the horror of Plex Anthill and now she practically glowed, and she could barely stand still she was so excited. To Mary’s left was their diminutive commander Rao Kosarau, resplendent in his Captain’s uniform. He was solemn, but honored to stand in for Mary’s parents, who had died long ago in service to Sparta. In back of the family were the family and friends, or at least those who could be assembled in less than the day notice they had been given.

Helen raised her hands and the assembled crowd gradually quieted.

“Ever since the first days after the Landing we have always cherished the rights and responsibilities our society entrusts us with. It has formed the basis of our lives, inner strength, and how we see the world. One of the rights we cherish most is the right to choose the one we will spend the rest of our lives with. This is the ultimate expression of individual liberty. But it is also our most important responsibility, both to each other and to our society. It is a basic trust, and one of our foundations.”

Helen paused and stepped forward. She reached up and grasped Markus’ left and Mary’s right hand. She brought them together and then closed her hands over them. Helen’s normally controlled face softened as she looked at the two earnest young people in front of her. She made it her business to know all of the men and women in the Spartan Military that were based out of Assassin’s Redoubt, but she knew some better than others. These two, she knew, had a certain strength of character that not all Spartans possessed. They had proven themselves in the terrible ordeal in the defense of Assassin’s Redoubt from the Hive invaders and in the liberation of Plex Anthill, and had shown themselves to be all too human and empathetic even in the depths of war. Their rescue of a terrified young teenager Mara from the Hive had proven this. Moreover, they had shown themselves to be bright and courageous fighters, as shown in their leadership and sacrifice in defense against the final Hive assault on the tragic Plex Anthill. Truly, they were the epitome of the Spartan soldier. Helen knew she had known many that had risen much farther who were much less worthy.

“The ceremony of marriage has taken many forms and it is tailored to the individual beliefs of the families involved. All the Spartan society asks of you in your union is that you love and defend each other from all harm, and do everything in your power to protect our society that we all stand for from harm. Your union is one of affirmation and renewal, and I am truly proud you have asked me to take part in it.”

Helen patted their hands affectionately, then stepped back.

“The first Spartan marriage was officiated by Coronal Santiago herself, and since that time it has been our custom to ask the witnesses if there is any reason to doubt the loyalty and faithfulness of the two who are about to be joined. I ask so now.”

She paused and looked through the crowd. As expected no one said a word.

“Seeing no objection I will ask each of you, Lieutenant Mary Belfontaine and Private Markus Auraleus, to affirm your vows in accordance to your own beliefs.”

Helen looked at Mary.

Mary turned to face Markus, and he turned to face her.

“Markus, I take you as my husband, and I promise to love and defend you with my heart, soul, and body, through all that may come.”

Mary took Markus’ right hand and pulled off the silver promise ring. “With this ring I pledge my bond to you,” she said as she gently slid in onto his index finger of his left hand.

Mark looked at the ring on his left hand as if not quite believing it was there. The he looked up at Mary and saw the love in her face. He was momentarily speechless and an awkward pause began. Neither Markus nor Mary seemed to notice, however.

Helen broke the silence with a very noticeable ‘hurmph’.

Markus came to.

“Mary, you are the love of my life and my best friend, and I gladly pledge my life and love to you, through all that may come.”

Markus turned toward his mother, who broke free of her husband’s grip. Happy tears still stained her face. She walked forward to stand before the couple. She reached up and gently caressed Mary’s confused face. To her, and her alone, she whispered You are my daughter now. Mary mouthed in return I love you, Mom. Then she reached up and caressed the cheek of her son, simply smiling at him. She then reached over with her right hand and slowly took off the wedding ring from her left hand. After a second’s hesitation she pressed her wedding ring in her sons right hand and then stepped back to stand by her husband.

Markus turned back toward a now very confused Mary.

“Mary, this wedding ring has been in the family since we came to Chiron, and it has been passed down from one generation to the next. It is one of the few possessions we have from old Earth. It is Earth gold, Mary, but its pales against how much I treasure you.”

Markus took Mary’s left hand. “With this ring I accept your pledge and take you as my wife,” he said as he slipped the ring on her left hand.

Helen stepped forward again and took their hands with hers again.

“With your pledges I now pronounce you man and wife! Mary, you may kiss your husband!”

Mary smiled as she withdrew her hand from the three-way embrace. She reached up and pulled Markus toward her and kissed him soundly on the lips.

In back the crowd cheered and surged forward. In moments family and friends surrounded the happy couple. Louis and Marciel, who had worked with Markus and Mary for years as part of the Rolling Thunder Brigade, slapped Markus on the back as he withdrew from the kiss, and Kit came up and gave Mary a big hug. The normally unflappable Kit was trying unsuccessfully to fight back tears and mumbled something like ‘the best woman won’.

Almost magically Mara appeared. She snuck into the hug that Kit was giving Mary. Each accepted her in. Almost hesitantly Mara asked, “Does this mean you’re my sister now?”

“Yes, I suppose it does! I’ve never had a sister before!” Mary replied as she hugged her tight again.

Rao finally worked his way in and shook Markus’ and Mary’s hand in a warm but dignified manner. Never having been married himself, he envied the pair a just a little but nonetheless wished them only the best, and said so.

In the back of the crowd that thronged Markus and Mary were his parents, who stood side by side holding hands. They were strangely unanimated, almost like statues, among the noisy and jubilant group that broke the hushed silence of the great redwoods.

In a deep and sad voice Markus’ father said, “They’re leaving tomorrow for the Peacekeeper front.”

In response his wife squeezed his hand. “They know it as well as we do. All we can do is pray for them. They’ll be fine. Let’s not spoil the moment,” she said hopefully.

He nodded in return, and with a jovialness that was a little forced they joined the celebration.

[Googlie]

Hive Special Ops HQ
Nessus Canyon

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

Shauna sat in the rocker that Ron had built with her hands comfortably clasped across her belly. She was about four weeks from her due date, and recently Ruth had been ever more inquisitive about what to expect when she entered the world.

Ron was indoors fiddling with the transmitter set that he had painstakingly built from salvaged parts, anxious to begin the dream again of being the voice in the Hive. He was openly delighted at the emergence of the Free Drones, and would have liked nothing better than to be back in Great Clustering standing side by side with the redoubtable Mr. Lee proclaiming the freedom charter.

Ron and Shauna had had a real doosie of a fight the night before. Kyella had let slip that Miriam had been found alive, and freed by a Spartan special ops team, and Shauna had exulted in the news, wanting to share with her father and scheme how to get together with her and see her re-instated in some way into a position of leadership.

Ron, of course. had nothing but bitter feelings towards Miriam, blaming her for coming between he and his now deceased wife, and denying him the pleasure of seeing his daughter grow up.

So they had fought, and Ron had stomped off to his bedroom without saying goodnight to his daughter.

He’d avoided her this morning, and now was intent in his engineering project, while Shauna rested outside, nursing her own estrangement from her father..

Then she became extremely perturbed, enough to go in and seek Ron’s advice.

And it was her daughter who had brought the fear – and the opportunity – to her mind.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++=

Mommy?

Yes Pet?

Who are The Progenitors?

The Progenitors? What on earth was her daughter going on about. Progenitors? What do you mean, Pet, The Progenitors?

I’ve been visiting Judaa – he’s a Progenitor. He’s nearby with his people. He doesn’t think like you and granddad – and he uses funny …… concepts ….. to describe Planet and things.

What are you inferring, Ruth? That he is Alien?

Alien? What’s alien, Mommy?

Not Human – from another planet.

Why don’t you ask him, Mommy?

How?

Come with me, in my mind.

Shauna remembered the flights of empath roaming with Kurt, how they soared to the consciousness of a needlejet crew and passengers, the melding with Miles Cavenagh, the effort it took her and Kurt to achieve that. Was her as-yet unborn daughter already powerful enough to achieve this? Shauna shuddered. Exactly what had she and Kurt conceived? And why was the Circle so interested in Ruth?

OK, Pet. Lead on

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

Greetings, Ruth personality

Greetings Judaa Marr. My mother accompanies me,

Distress. Discombobulation. Mind confusion.

Understanding not we. Earthhumans all mental beings?

Greetings Judaa Marr. I am Shauna, Ruth’s mother, and, no, I have a human body of flesh and blood. And you?

flesh and blood, yes we too.

Ruth tells me that you are Progenitors. Are you native to Planet?

Progenitors we. Understand not Planet. Manifold Six here. Progenitors built many turnings ago. Now returned Flowering to enact.

Flowering? I don’t understand. What is Flowering? And you say your kind built this Planet? Where are you from, and why are you here?

Progenitors from another star system. Many thousand turnings ago Progenitors manufactured six manifold planets. original one gained sentience and Flowered, becoming one with the stars. Our race almost destroyed. After much time we regained knowledge of the stars and how to cross space between systems. We have returned to Manifold Six to enable a controlled Flowering to lead us to oneness with the stars themselves, to evolve into a higher, purer form of life. Transcendence. And humankind will not stop us.

Will humankind be able to join Progenitors in Transcendence?

Feasible, yes. What would humankind offer Progenitors for joining?

Shauna thought rapidly.

This Progenitor race was obviously extremely powerful – or at least had been at one time, if they had been able to construct planets and give them sentience. An alliance with them would render any faction almost impervious to defeat, if they knew how to communicate with them. And she did.

She reckoned a short history lesson might be in order, then play her bargaining chip.

There are three strong humankind factions on Planet – on Manifold Six. One group is called The Peacekeepers who are large in numbers, but weak militarily and politically. Another group is called The Spartans, who are the strongest militarily and growing through conquest, and will soon be the sole power on Manifold Six. They are led by a megalomaniac who will surely challenge the Progenitors for supremacy. The third is my faction, The Hive, who once were strongest but who have suffered a loss of might and a loss of possessions against the Spartans and their allies. They pose no threat to The Progenitors, but would make a great ally for trading technological knowledge and sharing military tactics.

Why Progenitors not deal with Spartans?

Because they have no use for allies - they would as soon see you destroyed, because you would represent a threat to their power.

Because I – or at least my daughter, Ruth - is the key to dealing with you – she understands empathically your …. language, and can interpret. But I would have my price to extract from the Hive in return for helping them.

Price? Not understand price

I would exact a price – a reward – for intervening to bring Progenitors and Hive together.

Which would be?

The return of two Hive bases to their original faction – The Believers – and an undertaking not to molest them while they rebuild – backed by your guarantee.

Deal is acceptable. Commence to negotiate. Ultimate Usurper goal : Godhood. Humans : may benefit as well. First step : sign Treaty.

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

“Dad.”

Ron looked up. Secretly pleased that the ice had been broken. He’d been wondering how to break the impasse and get talking to his daughter again.

“Yes?”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“An apt comment. Sit down.”

Shauna filled her father in on events. She watched his eyes grow icy cold as she detailed her plan to coerce independence for The Leaders Horde and Fellowship City on behalf of The Believers and to arrange for Miriam’s reinstatement as leader.

But the prospect of interacting with and learning from an alien race was compelling.

They discussed tactics, and finally he agreed to stand by Shauna as she began the negotiations with Chairman Yang.

As they plotted, Kyella interrupted them:

“You have a visitor.”

"Who?"

“I don’t know. Strange. Very uncommunicative.”

Shauna waddled to the door, with Ron at her side.

There stood the strangest creature she had ever seen.

Fully eight feet tall, with a scaly skin and a number of tusks protruding from the facial area, the creature was bipedal, with very human looking forelimbs, but with claw appendages where hands would normally appear.

The creature looked at Shauna, and opened its mouth as if to speak.

Shauna felt the resonance wave impact her right to the center of her bones. Ron looked on nonplussed.

But through Ruth, Shauna was instantly aware of the Alien’s meaning:

“I am Kri’lan. I am Progenitor ambassador to The Hive.”



[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited January 23, 2000).]

[Captain Kirk]

War Outpost

Miriam stretched her legs slowly. It had been a long needlejet ride. Miriam however had to be thankful. A long ride in a Spartan needlejet was nothing compared to long years in a Hive punishment sphere. Archon turned and spoke to her.

"Come this way Ms. Godwinson" he said. He walked toward a waiting reception of Spartan intelligence. A Major stepped forward and extended his arm toward Miriam. She took it and shook it lightly. She could tell he was smiling on the inside. Military types ! She admired their crisp ebony uniforms.

"Ms. Godwinson I am Major Isaac Hannover of Spartan Intelligence. I can't ask you if you have had a good stay at the courtesy of the Hive" he smiled slightly. A ripple of laughter echoed through the files of Spartan officers. Even she smiled at the jest. Finally Major Hannover turned and motioned toward the base. Miriam took a breath. It was amazing to breath oxygen without a breather. Before she had been captured by the Hive people had to were breathers.

She stepped inside the base and was hit by a gust of cool air. Miriam sighed. But she was till apprehensive. Why had the Spartans released her? Why had they brought her here?
Major Hannover turned down a corridor and stopped outside a door. He punched in a code. The doors swished open.

Inside the room a holographic image of Colonel Santiago stood looking around. When she saw Miriam her eyes lit up. Miriam stood with her hips wide. She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. Santiago spoke first.

"Greetings Sister Miriam of the Believers. Welcome to the Spartan Federation. I am honored to be it's Colonel, Santiago" she said very formally. Miriam was taken a back. Why was this happening?

"If I may ask you a question Colonel?" Miriam put forth an exploratory tentacle. Santiago nodded.

"Why have you brought me here? Why have you freed me?" asked Miriam. Santiago smiled and answered.

"It's simple Sister" she said.

[Googlie]

Velvetgrass Point

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

I came to groggily, with a splitting headache. My eyelids fluttered.

“Hello Wolfie.” I heard the sweetest sound, then my whole being tingled as I felt her lips on mine. Soft. Warm. Moist. Full of promise of delights yet to come.

“Stazi,” I said huskily, as she came up for air. “Where am I? And how long have I been out?”

Anastasia glanced away, to the monitor over my shoulder, where the encillograph readouts were being displayed.

“Sshh.” she said, placing a finger over my lips. “You’re not to get too agitated yet. We’re at Velvetgrass Point, and you’ve just come out of surgery.”

“Velvetgrass Point? How did we get here? The last thing I remember is the PK special ops guy pointing his shredder at me as I bled through the cloaking suit.”

“All in good time, Wolfie. But you’re in good hands here. And you have a visitor,”

I looked up at the approaching visitor.

It was Deirdre herself.

“Ah, Scotty. I heard you’d come round. How are you feeling?” she inquired solicitously.

“Fine as can be expected, I guess,” I replied. “Anastasia tells me I’ve had some extensive surgery, but hasn’t told me yet how we come to be here. Last I remember we were at the peacekeeper Avishnu Testing Range.”

I watched Deirdre and Anastasia exchange glances, and knew that something was up.

“Come on, Dee, come clean. What’s the scoop?”

Deirdre began:

“Scotty, the Avishnu episode was about three months ago. Technically, you were killed in that action, but during your last visit to the rejuv tanks you had some serious cortex implants introduced into your skull, and this enabled your personality to be uploaded for safekeeping while your body was evacuated to Sparta.

“Somewhere along the line your personality was hijacked by a cybernetic intelligence that has been lying dormant for a hundred years or so and that is only now coming out into the open. When you were ‘reborn’ so to speak you were reincarnated as a cyborg.

“On your journey here your needlejet crashed on landing, and while you were under our surgeons’ care this artificial intelligence was removed and you are now yourself again. That’s why you have a headache. We’ve removed the cybernetic implants and packed it with common sense again. You’re trying to reject it. So your head hurts.

“Oh, and we finished your rejuv to the original specs. You’ve ‘aged’ ten years under our care, to your originally requested 40 . Anastasia approves, so you have no fear on that account. And one day I’ll fill you in on her role in this, and what she went through for you.

“And, by the way, I’ve been in touch with your Colonel. We’re pact sisters now, and with Morgan. Lined up against us is still the evil Chairman and an unlikely foe, Lal. I take some blame for the latter, and I’ll give you details when you are up and about. Oh, and you are once again the Spartan Ambassador to the Stepdaughters of Gaia. So get well, and get up and about your business,”

She bent over me and kissed me gently, then left.

Anastasia looked over at me:

“You heard her. Time to get up and take those first wobbly steps. I’m here for you.”

There was no mistaking the love for me that shone from her eyes.

I truly was blessed to have friends – and lovers – like Deirdre and Stazi, I thought contentedly, as I swung my legs over the bed to stand up.

closure, 0.7

Sarah waited patiently in Santiago's office for her to return. The operation had been a success, Miriam Godwinson was free, and the Hive had lost the Hunter-Seeker algorithm.

*****

High above planet, in a hydroponics pod, a crew of four sat and ate their dinner in the observation deck. It was about ten minutes into the meal when one of them realized something was wrong... She looked straight up and was surprized at what she didn't see: stars. Instead there was a massive blackness, punctured by the occaisional red glow. One had asked her if she had a neck cramp, but the look of terror convinced him to look up as well.

There was a light chirping sound that indicated an incoming transmission.

"humans: Spartan: contravention of: Tau Ceti accords. Only Choice: death."

*****

As Santiago entered her office, there was a bright violet flash in the western sky.

"What the hell was that?"

"I have no clue, sir."

An attendant rushed into the colonel's office, his face pase as if he had seen a ghost. "Colonel, i thnk you should take a look at this." A holo of space just above planet's atmosphere.

Little black dots littered the veiw. About six dozen. Santiago read intently at her computer screen. "Over ninety ships? Where did these things come from? And what do they want?" The holo then changed to the hydroponics pod. Or rather what was left of it. Corazon then played the transmission, and sat back ponderously.

"Sir? What's happening?" Sarah asked.

"Do you know the story of Robin Hood?"

"I'm afraid i'm not"

"Well, it's like this: the king goes away to fight in a war, leaving everything up to his son. His son is a poor ruler, and ends up with the entire populace being ruled out of fear. The king comes back, and finds out what his son has done. How do you think he'd feel?"

"He'd be rather upset, sir."

"Exactly. We claim that we're colonists on this world, but to them, we're a bunch of squatters. I just hope that they haven't spoken to Yang yet."

[Argonaut]

Deep Passage

"Get up. Will, wake up!" The voice intruded into William's peaceful sleep. He was exhausted and opened his eyes with reluctance to see the face of the person who had so rudely awoken him.

"Brad, what do you want? My shift doesn't start for another hour." Will groaned as he glanced at the data clock next to his bedside.

His best friend Brad was dressed in the full uniform of the Spartan Cadet Services, an organisation where those too young to fight, were able to contribute to the war effort. They spent the majority of their time organising supplies to be sent to the front lines and keeping roadways clear.

"Not today buddy. We're moving out." Brad began to collect the few belongings that William had with him into his equipment pack.

"What do you mean?" asked William. They had not been here that long and there was still so much work to do until Deep Passage could become a fully operational Spartan base.

"They sent out the orders this morning. All cadets are being pulled back to the mainland. They're stepping up on the offensive again. Geez, where have you been? Didn't you get any of the comm messages?"

"No, I've been asleep." he responded as he groggily dragged himself out of bed.

"Where do you go at nights? Every morning you're a walking disaster area, but you're never at the Rec. Centre at night. You don't know what you're missing out on. The girls here are living like they're never going to see tomorrow, if you know what I mean! Or maybe you do!" Brad said with a smirk on his face. "That's it, isn't it! You've got a girl somewhere, don't you."

"None of your buisness." Will responded quickly. He began to help Brad pack the few remaining belongings. "So any word on where they're going to hit first?"

"Man you really are out of it. They hit last night. Nerve gas attack on Socialism Tunnels, just across the border."

William dropped the holocrystal of his parents on the floor. A terrible fear clenched at his stomach, and he tried to mask his feelings before Brad got suspicious. Besides, maybe she got out. Maybe she's already half way to the Free Drones.

"You all right?" Brad asked. William nodded his head. "Man, it's crazy though. Apparently the whole place went nuts when they hit it. Rumour has it that another rebellion was under way. Yang was hitting his own people when we hit him!"

William couldn't take it any longer and he ran out of his room and out into the tunnel. He raced up to ground level and out into the surrounding area.

People tossed odd glances at him as he passed, but he could care less. He saw the forest on the horizon and despite his exhaustion began to run faster. He was almost there when from out of nowhere a guard lept out and tackled him.

"Where the hell do you think you are going Cadet?" questioned the soldier, gun poised at William's head.

"I have to get in there sir. I know someone over there."

"The only people over there are the enemy Cadet. Stevenson, take this kid back to the Command Centre. Inform them we have a potential collaborator on our hands."

Another guard emerged from his cover and approached William. He placed Will in restraints and led him back towards the base. All Will could do was pray that she would be okay.

[Hydro]

The white light of pain is all I know. It wracks my body and proves that I yet live, even if I might yearn for oblivion, but such is not my fate.

The pain is my friend, for with it I can atone for my past. I have made so many mistakes, and so many friends and colleagues have been betrayed by those mistakes.

All I have is my pain, and my memories.

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

”Prokhor, there are barbarians at the gate,” Emily states dryly. She is a lovely young thing, and is only too happy to serve me in whatever fashion I desire. She is a good conversationalist and bedmate, and an able assistant.

“Is it Santiago again, or just one of her begging and mewing minions? Or have they issued yet more demands?” I reply, truly annoyed to have my train of thought interrupted. I have asked Emily to inform me whenever these pesky Spartans come along or intrude into my territory. I suppose I will have to treat with them and even acknowledge them, even if they are so pitifully backward. Imagine; Santiago even bragged that she had ‘impact weapons’ in her last transmission! We’ve had missile technology for over a decade, and even that will soon be obsolete for us.

“It is one of her begging minions. One of their old and battered rover crews blundered into our territory again, and ran into a former crew planting a forest. They mumbled something about worm hunting in fresh territory,” Emily says with a grin.

“That tired old line again? Is their economy so pitiful that they have to rely on worm hunting for their energy credits? I guess they haven’t figured out that development yields energy, as does trade. Santiago never was very bright about such things. If they didn’t spend all their time making weapons to fight no one in particular they might have an economy!” Emily has heard this little tirade of mine before, but she doesn’t object. She doesn’t object to anything I do. Guileless devotion is such a valued commodity!

“What shall I have the Cosmograd City Administrator Heinstein tell them? He’s waiting, and those Spartans aren’t known for their patience.”

I ponder this question for the moment. I don’t like Spartans wandering around my territory one bit since they are undoubtedly spying on our cities and development. Probably green with envy, too. Their biggest city, Sparta Command, has a measly 40,000 population, which is a bit less than half of University Base. We have almost as many cities as they do, and ours are generally twice as big. In the last financial period we were able to afford the energy credits to purchase two research hospitals! And what to the Spartans have? Nothing! Only a few primitive recreation commons, and their prized and much touted Command Center Nexus at Sparta Command. They have to control their populations with police, for heaven’s sake! Under our free market democracy we have no such need.

“Tell them that according to the terms of our treaty that they are to withdraw to their territory immediately,” I tell her curtly.

“Yes, Prokhor,” she tells me.

She seems a bit worried but I dismiss it. After all, what is there to be worried about? That there are barbarians at the gate?

Ha!

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

“Prokhor, it’s Santiago again and she is getting very agitated. I suggest you take her call,” Emily intones again. The Spartan rover crew made a hasty retreat a few days earlier. Santiago’s communication system must be pretty limited if it took her this long to find out about it!

“She keeps interrupting me, and keeps making unseemly demands! Why should I give her missile technology, or pay some fabricated fine! Let her eat static!”

“Yes, sir,” Emily says. She turns to leave, then stops and turns back toward me. “Our sensors show us there are Spartan rover brigades in the fungus. According to the report I received there are at least 3 brigades.”

“What of it? Our plasma garrisons can deal with any threat they may present. Santiago can pound salt!”

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

“…and so, our work into the gestation of native lifeforms has been less than successful. We have so far been unable to recreate the conditions necessary to bring the mindworm collective intelligence to term. Those worms that we do bring to term act as individuals and fail to form a collective consciousness. These individuals, while similar to other elements in Chiron ecology, do not exhibit any of the characteristics commonly associated with mindworms. In short, we can breed the worms but not the mindworms.”

With that comment I perk up and start listening closely to what has been an otherwise unexciting presentation by Dr. Andre Zahrenov.

“Professor?” I ask. Everyone immediately looks toward me. “What have you been doing to simulate the gestation of the mindworms you hold in captivity?”

“We have supplied them with native life forms found in the fungus, or bred by us from stock taken from the fungus.”

I smile, since he has missed the obvious. “We know how the mindworms gestate, Professor. They use their psychic powers to paralyze their human victims with fear, then implant their larvae into human brains. What you need are human subjects.”

Professor Andre is quiet.

I can’t help thinking to myself - Such lack of vision!

“Prokhor, that has been discussed. However, we have no subjects and wouldn’t know where to find them. And we would need senior authorization to change the character of the project in such a way,” he continues nervously.

Obviously, he is hedging and I decide to raise the ante.

“Then I give the authorization and will also supply your research group with suitable subjects.”

I think to myself: test subjects are all too common. Perhaps the Spartans could be useful after all? It would solve two problems – a research dilemma and a mote in need of a demonstration. And it would provide a little territory for expansion.

“Perhaps we could contact the Gaians,” Andre offered. “They are known to be well versed in native life, and they might be willing to trade technology. Their current troubles with the Hive and Morganites might make them interested in an even trade.”

“The Gaians! If we help them then we will anger the unholy alliance of Yang and Morgan. In months they will finish crushing the last of the Gaian resistance on what will soon be Yang’s continent. With them flush with victory I do not want to give them another target. No, we will neither ask help from nor assist the Gaians. Her ideological and intractable war with Morgan has lasted almost 30 years now, and now she is reaping her bitter fruit from the hand of Yang, now that he is fully involved. She had her chance to see reason and to offer accommodation to the warmongers, but Lady Skye is far too idealistic to consider the reality of her situation.”

Andre nods his assent, but doesn’t look too happy.

“We are behind schedule. What is the next research status report?” I prompt.

That brakes the uncomfortable silence, and the meeting continues at full pace.

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

“Prokhor and honored guests, I am proud to present to you the first prototype aircraft on Planet! The Zakharov Interceptor!”

A billowing white sheet falls away, revealing the outlines of a sleek fission jet. It is a marvel of University research and engineering. Gleaming white with a blue University logo on its tail fin and wings, it will soon grace the sky. But now it rests peacefully in its hanger in the aerospace center with its proud pilot standing by, her hand resting lightly on its molded plasteel flank.

Smiling broadly, I walk toward the marvel with the other dignitaries. Of course I approach first and my retinue after. Rank does have its privileges. We walk around the plane, noting that the hull seems to be made out a seamless ceramic-like material, and that all the elements seemed to flow from the other. In many ways this aircraft is better than the best old Earth had to offer.

Gradually the dignitaries begin to cluster into groups and chat among themselves. My chosen few, including Emily, form my immediate entourage. Turning, I notice Emily looking at me with an expectant eye. What does she want? Perhaps she thinks that I should give an inspirational speech, declaring that this sterling example of University technology is but a foretaste of things to come? No, that has already been done. Or maybe she just wants to celebrate a little? Perhaps a little champagne and rock oysters?

Yes, that must be it! I approach her and then wink. She seems a little startled, but then she smiles slightly and takes my offered elbow and together we walk from the hanger.

What a glorious day! And just think: tomorrow the interceptor gets its first test! Against live targets!

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

The cool and austere figure of Santiago’s holo graces my office. As expected, she answers my request for direct communication. Considering the circumstances, she had better!

“My dear Colonel,” I start, “Your force has been one again sighted within my territory. By terms of our treaty I insist that they be removed immediately! Your repeated border incursions have become tiresome and they will end now!”

Santiago’s eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me, Professor? If so then I am not frightened. You should recall from our previous encounter on the battlefield 30 years ago that I do not frighten easily. I can be reasonable, however. If you will grant me the secrets of missile technology then I am sure our mutual understanding can grow and we can both prosper.”

I laugh out loud. “Surely you crave, Santiago! Under no circumstances would I give such secrets to a warmonger like you! You would do well be careful in making such a demand, for I have just unveiled the first airforce on Planet, the Zakharov Missile Interceptor! Do you refuse to remove your forces?”

Santiago’s haughty lips part into a smile that looks more like a snarl. Her vaunted control seems to be slipping.

Perfect! Let her make the first move! That would preserve my reputation, and make me the victim against the ‘nasty and barbaric Spartan menace’!

“Professor, you have grown decadent and insolent. However, I abide by the treaties I sign. We will withdraw.”

The holo winked out.

Damn!

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

In the dark of night a Spartan rover brigade hiding in the fungus disgorged its cargo: a group of a dozen men and women in black fungalweave suits, which were designed to foil most detection and make them very difficult to see with the naked eye. At the base of the hill was the garish and brightly-lit University city of Cosmograd, which was surrounded by a farm field and broad swaths of forest. A road extended to the southeast toward the rest of University territory. This city was the nearest to Spartan lands, and it was the northwestern-most city controlled by the good Professor Zakharov.

Without a word the team split up and expertly made their way through the fungus. At its edge they waited to refine their attack. Then, one by one they slipped into the cover of darkness and into the unsuspecting city.

Four hours later there was a beep in the lead rover, which was waiting undetected in the fungus.

Mission successful! Download complete! And the probe team had been able to slip away without being intercepted!

In the cabins of the impact rover brigade the crew took out valued containers of fungal gin. Rare outside Gaian territory, it was used only for celebrations. Tonight was surely a cause for celebration.

Now the Spartans had missile technology, courtesy of the University’s lax security and Spartan superior training!

Salute!

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

“What!!!!”

“Our databanks were breached, sir,” Emily states as calmly as she can. “The Spartans have downloaded the technical specifications for missile technology.”

“Santiago! She will pay!”

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

Rising from its landing strip the lone interceptor banked north and then northwest. In minutes its smallish University home city of Cosmograd was beneath it. Although the airstrip at Cosmograd was not as fully equipped as where the interceptor had been manufactured, it was adequate. The population of Cosmograd was honored that this fine example of University technology and engineering was stationed in their city. With the start of a the second ‘hot war’ with the Spartans, the citizens were happy for any protection they could get against the nasty and barbaric Spartans.

In the cabin the lone jet pilot Steph Dickenson, the first on Chiron, rejoiced in the freedom she felt. Previously she had flown bulky and ungainly air transports, which were really very primitive and generally a little dangerous.

Her bird was something else altogether! The interceptor itself was a thing of beauty, with swept wings and one-piece construction. Even the engines were so finely tuned that they almost were soundless. Inside the controls were manual, computer controlled, voice activated, or eye-directed, and neural connections even allowed fantastic g-forces to be used without blacking out.

Luxuriating aside, she knew she had a mission to accomplish. “Air control tower, this is Zak 1. Downloading sensor data now. Target acquired. Permission to activate missiles?”

“Affirmative Zak 1. Permission granted. Mission authorized by flight control. Good luck, Steph!”

“Acknowledged tower. Target acquired. “

Below her a Spartan rover brigade was ‘hiding’ in the fungus. Before air power they would have been invulnerable.

But not now.

Gently she put the firing controls on manual, and pressed the ‘little candy colored red button’ that fired her first salvo of missiles. The undercarriage of the interceptor jolted, since the missiles were not intended to fire at ground targets. Some of the rocket backwash seared the plastisteel fuselage, and a couple of red damage lights came on in her heads-up display.

Steph tracked the missiles with an onboard microcamera, then activated the microcamera in each of the munitions. Satisfied that each was on target she banked to the left to give herself maneuver room in case a second volley was needed.

A second volley wasn’t needed. The unarmored Spartan impact rovers were hit dead on, and each erupted sequentially into flame. Some of the crew in the last rovers understood what was happening and were fleeing. Steph couldn’t help but admire their training and response time, especially to an unknown such at this attack.

It wouldn’t save them, though

“Steph to air control. Target Spartan rover brigade destroyed. There are at least a dozen survivors in the fungus. Send cleanup crew. Squirting holovid and coordinates now.”

Exalting, Steph set a course for home, feeling buoyed and ecstatic by the experience. Her bird has proven its worth and had scored the first kill in what was to be the Second University-Spartan war. If this were any example the war wouldn’t be much of a contest.

Steph eye-activated her holocamera and swiveled it aft for a last look. The flames from the Spartan rovers were already dying in the nitrogen-rich atmosphere, and there were still small forms scurrying about.

It will be a short war, she thought as the Spartans disappeared into the horizon.

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

“How could we have lost Cosmograd! We destroyed the Spartan rover group that was with the probe team!”

Emily once again has a patient look on her face. “Sir, there were 5 other impact rover brigades hidden in the fungus, and some of them were elites. The elites plowed into the woods surrounding Cosmograd and still were able to attack. The first sacrificed themselves, and the second destroyed the garrison. The third took the city, and it was followed by two more.”

“Send the interceptor to take them out, and block the roads! Call up the reserves!”

“The interceptor is damaged and will be refueling. We have no available reserves right now. We can upgrade some of the old synthmetal and plasma garrisons to missile infantry, and we have two old exploration Unity rovers that can be converted. It will be expensive, through.”

“Do it!” I almost yell.

The Spartans are on the march.

Oh, god!

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

“How many Spartan rover brigades were there?” I ask desperately.

“At least eight, sir. We are outnumbered by 4 to 1, and that doesn’t count the Spartan rover brigades in the cities they have already captured, or the defensive garrisons they have formed in captured cities.”

The high-tech holo map in the newly configured war room at University Base shows the three University cities that have been captured and how fast the front is slipping. Our garrisons now face missile rovers. Without perimeter defenses the garrisons don’t stand a chance against a determined Spartan attack. Already valuable technology has been captured with the cities and huge amounts of energy credits have been drained, sapping our strength and ability to react.

“Change all production, including the research hospitals, to penetrators, or garrisons where needed! We have to kill the Spartan rovers and stop their advance!”

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

“Five Spartan rover brigades killed, Prokhor,” a newly promoted General tells me. I have no idea what his name is. Generals come so fast, and die so fast, that I can’t keep track.

“Then counterattack! We have to retake our city before it is reinforced, like all the others!”

A wash of regret passes over the face of the young General. He has bad news.

“I’m sorry, sir. We can’t counterattack. The Spartans have fielded interceptors and penetrators, made possible by captured technology and energy. They were evidently built at the captured aerospace centers. The Spartan planes have been positioned along all roads, and they are poised to strike University Base soon. We are cut off.”

At last a sense of gloom descends. My glorious technology is being used against me. We destroy the Spartans one for one, but there are always more and they still advance. They are mobile, and their better training tells once they have our technology.

I cut the holo link, even though the young General has something else important to say. My normally hyperactive mind feels leaden. Options diminish by the day.

My previous calls to Santiago have gone unanswered and now I am eating static. Strangely, I understand that this must have been how Santiago felt not so long ago.

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

The pain comes again and I welcome it. My dear Emily! Why did I lose you at last? Why did I not also choose to make the ultimate sacrifice? I never even took the time to say I love you! Emily, so faithful and beautiful.

Forgive me, Emily.

And grieve for me, Emily, for I will not die. Not ever.

[Hydro]

Manufacturing Warrens

“Captain, defending forces have been eliminated at Fecundity Tower, Socialism Tunnels, and Unity Lair. We took some damage, but nothing too severe. The nerve gas did its job on both the defenders and the Hive civilians,” Lieutenant Sing said solemnly.

“Civilian casualties?” Mel asked.

“Severe. Socialism Tunnels lost 40,000, Unity Lair lost 30,000, and Fecundity Tower lost less than a thousand. With the massively reduced populations we should have no trouble maintaining control with our troops. How do you want our remaining troops deployed, sir?”

Mel turned to examine the tactical map once more. With the capture of the three more Hive cities the front would collapse in size very nicely to two ‘front’ cities. This would reduce the pressure to defend everywhere at once, and allow Spartan forces to once again concentrate to take more Hive positions and cities. As a side benefit the capture of Tower would ease pressure on the Morgan city of Communal Nexus, which had been subverted from the Hive by Morgan what seemed like ages ago. As an added benefit the flank of Tower was protected by the Drone city of Great Clustering. Since the Drones weren’t likely to start a conflict with the Spartans that could be considered a ‘safe’ flank. Once the airdrop was complete the planetbuster in production at Unity Lair would be scrapped, removing yet another threat to Sparta.

There was one glaring holdout that was behind the Spartan line: The Hive. It was heavily fortified, and its aerospace center made an air attack on it prohibitively expensive, even with nerve gas. At it would be a little better 50-50 proposition for a nerve gas shard penetrator to succeed in its attack, and that was assuming the better training of the Spartan crews verses the defenders. Rovers would be sitting ducks since all the roads had been cut.

“The Hive are weak at Fellowship City, Seat of Proper Thought, and Social Engineering Den due to the fungal blooms and native attacks, which seem to have died down now. There is where we will attack next. Send infantry by airdrop to Tower and Tunnels to secure the cities. Send mobile reinforcements by airdrop to Lair. Keep a reserve rover brigade at Manufacturing Warrens, in addition to the AAA garrisons.”

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

“GO GO GO GO GO!” a voice yelled through the micro ear mike. The noise level in the airdrop transport increased from a low drone to an almost deafening roar as the drop bay opened. Gradually the artificial light of the cargo bay was augmented by natural light, and a torrent of wind whipped among the waiting rovers.

One by one the 10 rovers from the brigade drove forward and plunged off the ramp into the Chiron lower atmosphere, activating their retrorockets as they entered free fall. In moments each stabilized and the pilots quickly locked altitude control as targeting identified their target: Unity Lair. Plumes of smoke and great black rents in the earth marked the work of the shard penetrators and Aardvarks. Mercifully the handiwork of the nerve gas pods that had been fired into and through the rents in the Hive city could not be seen.

That horror would be all too apparent upon landing.

Viewed from the ground the rovers seemed to float down. An almost continuous firing of rockets slowed their descent and made the rovers appear brighter and brighter as they neared ground surface.

The ground surface of the city was silent, which was broken only by the increasing roar of the altitude and retrorockets of the descending rover brigade. Or more accurately ‘brigades’, since another airdrop was in progress even as the first touched down. One by one the landing rovers slowed so that they hit the ground as if they were coming off a small ramp – well within the robust Spartan tolerances for their military vehicles.

A quick encrypted information was squirted from the command rover and the rovers formed up and made their way to the nearest intact cargo bay. They passed gaping craters and one Hive anti aircraft redoubt as they made their way over the blasted landscape. What was left of the redoubt was almost unrecognizable as either humans or equipment.

Rounding a pile of debris the rovers approached Delta Sector Cargo Bay Door 2, as it was emblazoned in blue on the synthmetal portal. A quick discharge from the chaos turret of the lead rover blasted it inward and the rovers rushed inward.

The interior of the Hive city was enveloped by the pall of death. Hive solders lay in semi-orderly ranks in the outer portions of the city, haven fallen from nerve gas at the locations that they had been ordered to defend. Deeper in were masses of civilian casualties, sometimes in great piles as they clawed at each other to get to non-existent safety. In the upper levels an occasional a pocket of terrified survivors would be found, but not often. Huddled masses of panic stricken civilians were clustered in the depths of Unity Lair.

There was no resistance as the Spartans secured the city and raised the electronic flag of victory.

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

“Captain, Lair, Tower, and Tunnels are secured and full police suppression efforts have commenced. As ordered, production of trained, unarmored garrisons has been rushed and each will be upgraded with fusion plasma armor as soon as possible. Due to the influx of trained COs, all of our new garrisons are close to elite status. Mobile reserves are in place at Lair. Rear guard reserves are here at Manufacturing Warrens, and all cities are building either additional rover brigades or aircraft.”

Mel nodded and looked at the holographic map of the Hive territory. It had a pleasing swath of Spartan grey, with a satisfyingly diminished swath of Hive blue. The Spartans, their allies, or neutral parties now held well over two-thirds of the Hive’s home territory.

Now that the bastard Yang only has five cities left on the Hive’s mainland, and three of those were almost undefended. We can take those in our sleep. He has two sea cities and one land city on Morgan’s continent. His back was broken. It’s now simply an exercise in the proper application of overwhelming firepower, Mel thought to herself.

“Thank you lieutenant. You are dismissed.”

[Googlie]

Morgan Industries
35/01/2226

“There’s too much personal stuff,” Joe Carter said imperiously. “It’s a retrospective, not an autobiography. Trim about 30% and take out all the I and me references.”

“But that’s what it’s all about,” Paula Forbes replied huffily. “It’s this reporter’s recollections of the last year.”

“And you’ve been overindulgent with our air time. Look, I don’t want you to remove the personal perspective completely, but just tone it down, OK?”

Paula gave in gracefully. “When do we run it?”

“We’ll do Skyeday. It’s the last day of the month.” Morgan Newscorp still followed the first Planetary Council’s convention of naming the seven days of the Chiron week after the seven faction leaders. This had been adopted by all the other factions except The Hive, who clung to a simple numeric system of day/1 through day/7, and month/1 through month/14.

“Good. Skyeday it is then. That gives me three days to prepare the cuts and finalize. Do you want a pontifical piece?”

“No,” Joe replied. “But you might try to get the CEO. Although I hear he’s grieving mightily for his son. It’d pull in the viewers all across Planet if there were a rescue to report Especially if we were able to insert a holovid crew with the probes.”

“Dream on,” Paula replied. “Only the Spartans are capable of that, and what’s in it for them except to ***** Yang’s bubble?”

“Exactly my point,” he replied. “His empire’s crumbling and this would be the final straw – stealing his political prisoners with impunity. But that’s unlikely. So let’s get to work and get the program better defined. And do tell your viewers that we were ready to run with this on Old Year’s Night a month ago, but deferred in light of the nuke attacks.”

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

38/14/2225

Tape 35/14.chi.rev.2225 © MorganLink 3DVision

“Good Evening.

“Tonight’s special feature is brought to you by Morgan Planetary Energy Corporation. Invest now in the PEC Futures Fund, the best performing Mutual Energy Fund for 2225.

“We are pleased to bring you over the next hour our review of 2225, a year of incredible change on Chiron – perhaps the pivotal year in Planet’s history. And we’ll begin by turning the clock back fourteen months to this time last year.”

cue tape 01/01/Pharma

New Year revellers at Morgan Pharmaceuticals appeared on the screen, some in a high degree of intoxication, others high on the readily available mind-altering drugs. They could be seen mingling with the bemused Hive troops who were standing around drinking in the New Year festivities which were alien to the Hive culture.

“As you can see, we began the year pacted with The Human Hive – they had troops on secondment in various of our bases, and we in theirs. It seemed a marriage made in heaven. Morgan wealth allied with Hive industry.

“Chiron was at peace. Our relations with the Spartan Federation and the Peacekeepers were good, and we were looking forward to a year of peace, prosperity and further discovery.

“Alas, it was not destined to be.

“Early in the year word leaked out that the Spartans had developed a new technology that enabled their needlejets to be powered by a fusion drive, and were experimenting with new weaponry. An experimental aircraft crashed south of Fort Superiority and Admiralty Base, and a race was on by Spartan and Hive units to reach the downed jet.

“These units met, and clashed, and suddenly The Spartan Federation and The Human Hive were at war.

“I am joined by our MorganNews military advisor, retired General Wilfred Hawkes. Good evening Freddy,”

“Good evening, Paula.”

“Freddy, back in that third and fourth month of 2225, no-one for a moment thought that the balance of power on Chiron would change so dramatically, so soon, did they?”

“Certainly not, Paula. Ten months ago power was quite evenly balanced. We at Morgan Industries were the wealthiest faction, The Peacekeepers the most populous, and The Hive and the Spartans were about evenly matched militarily. Of course Sparta had the edge in troop training and morale, but The Hive always was able to put more troops in the field.”

“So what tilted the balance so significantly in the Spartan’s favour?”

“Well, Paula, we had a part to play in this, as did the re-emergence on the political arena of Lady Skye and her followers, long thought to be almost extinct.”

“What was our role?”

“It began with Plex Anthill – well actually it began before that. Chairman Yang had become fond of – almost addicted to – extortion from our CEO. The fact that he had troops in every one of our bases – and as a Pact Brother he was surely entitled to do this – made energy extortion very easy. So we financed the build up of his war machine – probably even the construction of his prototype Planetbuster missile.

“When the skirmish north of the Monsoon Jungle escalated into a full scale war, the Spartans responded in the way they knew best. Rapid troop deployment in attack, and Plex Anthill was the target.

“It was captured, then Chairman Yang delivered his infamous ultimatum – return it or see Sparta Command nuked.

“And remember that this was happening in the context of a missing Santiago – but we’ll come to that later, no doubt.”

“Indeed we will, Freddy. And Morgan Industries had a role to play there, too. But you were talking about Plax Anthill?”

“Yes. And that’s where we came in. Our CEO had been becoming increasingly disenchanted with the Chairman, and after the kamikazi nuclear attack on Santiago and her Junta had pulled out of the pact. The Junta’s governor – Scott Allardyce – proposed a base switch to forestall Yang’s ultimatum: Plex Anthill to Morgan Industries in exchange for Morgan Processing to the Spartan Federation. We effected the exchange, thereby nullifying the threat to Sparta Command, and stymieing Yang somewhat.”

“And matters really did heat up, after that, Freddy, Didn’t they?”

“Indeed they did, Paula. In anticipation of Yang’s response to the swap, CEO Morgan instituted his ‘Scorched Earth’ policy. He fomented rebellion among four Hive bases who declared for Morgan by midnight that same night. Yang’s response was to invade and capture Morgan Pharmaceuticals, and shortly thereafter, Morgan Bank.”

“And that leads us to our next segment, dedicated to those hardy survivors who have seen this year alone two and in some cases three masters. The list is impressive, starting with Plex Anthill itself.”

cue tape 38/14/Chi/swap

A montage of overfly and satellite shots accompanied the narration

Plex Anthill – Hive – then Spartan – now Morgan Complex
Morgan Processing – Morgan – now Hive, renamed Ruby Ridge Memorial
Pointa Sur – Spartan – population destroyed
Communal Nexus – Hive - now Morgan Nexus
Paradise Swarming – Hive – then briefly Morgan (Morgan Paradise) – now Free Drone Central
Workers Nest – Hive – now Gaia’s Landing (again)
Hole of Aspiration – Hive – now Gaian – Nessus Shining (again)
Morgan Pharmaceuticals – Morgan – then Hive – Communal Conquest – now Spartan
Morgan Bank – Morgan – now Hive – Banking Collective
Deep Community – Hive – now Spartan
Laborers’ Throng – Hive – now Spartan
Drone Mound – Hive – now Spartan
Manufacturing Warrens – Hive – now Spartan
Deep Passages – Hive – now Spartan
Ironholm – Spartan – obliterated
Parade Ground – Spartan – Obliterated

And then, just yesterday,

Fecundity Tower – Hive - now Spartan
Soscialism Tunnels – Hive - now Spartan
Unity Lair – Hive – now Spartan

And there have been new bases added to Planet’s geography books

Gaians:

Temple of Chiron
Garden of Paradise

PeaceKeepers:

UN Court of Justice
UN Criminal tribunal
UN Enforcement Base
UN Sea Habitat – ceded to Free Drones
UN Disaster relief – ceded to Free Drones

“So the emergence this past year of the Free Drone faction has taken us all by surprise, as it has now consolidated its position with four bases.

“And as we consider the implications of this, we………

pause tape - override

……………..excuse me,”

“This just in.

“Sparta Command announces the loss of their hydroponic satellite and its crew of 64. The satellite was destroyed a few minutes ago by an alien spacecraft, one of a fleet approaching Chiron, and proclaiming themselves to be a race who founded Chiron millennia ago. Colonel Santiago has convened an emergency session of the Planetary Council to discuss how to deal with this threat.

“Stay tuned to this station where we will keep you on top of the news.

“This is Paula Forbes returning you to our special retrospective.”

resume tape

[The_Progenitors]

In orbit around Chiron

“Order recall” resonated Commander ‘Ychet Haart as she reclined at the bridge command console of the Usurper Battlecruiser Impaler. “Everyone in,” she altered, “no exceptions.”

She toggled the res transmitter, and a burst wave reached the two accompanying scoutships.

“Commander Krill and Distinguished Commander Sk’aard, recall your Gnats until we evaluate what threat if any exist. Convene holographically in a tenth for conference,” she resonated imperiously. Their bursts returned, with the altering not evident, but nonetheless there:

“As you order, Commander Haart.”

They watched on their screens as the sixty deployed Gnats of the Battlecruiser returned to the mothership, and the ten each of the two Scoutships sought the sanctuary of their hangars.

Within the hour there were only the three tactical warships visible in Chiron space.

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

“We may have been hasty,” resonated Haart. “I assumed the craft was Caretaker. Apparently it was of alien manufacture.

Commander Toku Krill’s holo could be seen catching the resonance wave and altering it slightly and returning in assent “A natural assumption, Commander. Conqueror Marr left no indication that he had visited this system when we exited the wormhole. The usual marker wasn’t present, so to assume it was one of H’minees ships was a natural mistake.”

“They didn’t respond,” altered Nang Sk’aard, Distinguished Commander of the Planetary Scoutship 393_s. “They gave out no code.

“And our Astrogator is receiving strange emanations from this Planet – unlike anything else we have encountered. She is rigging an apparatus to receive and promulgate the signals we are intercepting. We will transmit to you both shortly.”

Haart’s body language was telling.

“We are ill equipped for this mission,” she resonated. “From the readings of our sensors we lack the means to descend to this planet’s surface at this time – at least until we have refitted some Gnats to bear the pressures of its stronger gravity. Right now they would burn on entry or be crushed by the atmospheric pressure.”

“How long before our repair bays could construct a lander?” altered Krill.

“About thirty turnings,” Haart altered in turn. “At least, to carry some of our troops down. Ogres could be ferried down unpressurized, in perhaps ten turnings.”

“We are bursting the images now,” an excited Sk’aard resonated sharply, interrupting the others in their discussion.

“Display,” barked Haart.

The screen at the head of the command console crackled to life, and there appeared a primitive image of an alien creature with weak mandibles squeaking unintelligible while from time to time the picture dissolved into a montage of landscape and buildings.

Then suddenly the picture cut to a representation of a spacecraft – the very one that they had destroyed a mere two tenths ago.

Sk’aard was intrigued. “These strange emanations are concerning the craft,” he resonated. “The aliens must have manufactured it and are now discussing its destruction.”

“Threat evaluation?” altered Haart. “Your opinions?”

Krill began:

“Crude spaceflight capability – limited. No weaponry, and no defense apparent against our resonance weapons. Communications capability of transmitting images, but no holographic capability. No attempt to intercept us,” he resonated at length.

“Our defense posture?” altered Haart.

“Readiness,” he altered in reply.

“Surmise?” she resonated. “Is this one of the Manifolds?”

“I doubt it,” he altered. “I think we have stumbled on a primitive alien civilization that poses little threat to us.”

She turned to the holo of Sk’aard.

“And you, Commander? What is your assess…….”

“Commanders.” The resonance was insistent, imperative. It was Ce’erns, the Astrogator of the Impaler

“Report,” barked Haart.

“Sirs. We have received an interrogative res code from the surface of the planet. We are decoding it now …. it is the ident code for Conqueror Marr.

“Text:

We have detected your presence above Chiron. If you can decipher this, you are from a Usurper fleet. By the commission granted me by Supreme Fleetlord Hra’ath I am assuming command of your fleet and order you to stay in the proximity of Manifold Six to await my commands.

Conqueror Judaa Marr”

Commander Haart’s mandibles were clacking in agitation. Clearly this was not news she had been expecting.

Sk’aard interjected, his resonance deep and compelling:

“I counsel caution and prudence, Commander. Although it bears Marr’s arrogant signature, this could be a trap.”

Commander Haart signified assent.

“Counsel?” she altered. "And if it is Manifold Six?"

Sk’aard resonated in reply:

“Take the Impaler and 229_s back through the wormhole to safety. I will stay here with my Planetary Scoutship 393_s to await events. We will summon you if and when needed. If it is Marr, and he needs us, you will be only turnings away. We will be in proximity.”

Haart altered her assent. “A sound plan. You have your Gnats for spatial defense. Commander Krill and I will transfer our 15 Ogres to your ship in the event that it is Conqueror Marr below and they are needed by him for planetary conquest. That will give him 20 altogether. Make it happen.”

The holos dissolved into nothingness.

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


Commander Krill followed Haart at a respectible distance as they approached the wormhole. To the naked eye, gazing ahead into space, there was nothing discernable. But to the instrument sensors, the gravitational distortion was intense, represented on their screen by a series of colors. Haart was piloting by sense now, the resonance radar picking up and returning the echoes of the variances in the magnetic field surrounding the singularity.

“Going in” she resonated to Krill, as the Battlecruiser entered the outer fringes of the gravitational distortion.

The ship bucked, and tossed as it was drawn deeper into the well of the wormhole. Then Krill saw it disappear from sight as the wormhole engulfed its mass.

“Our turn,” he resonated to his crew. The antigrav dampers were working full blast as he wrestled with the controls, aligning the course from Alpha Centauri back to Sol. The Planetary Scoutship 229_s was swallowed up in the hole.

Sk’aard was alone with his single scoutship, orbiting Chiron.



[This message has been edited by The_Progenitors (edited January 26, 2000).]

[Googlie]

The two delegations arrived almost simultaneously.

Chairman Sheng-Ji Yang, Marshall Ng and Civilian Marshall Madame Hsui with their Elite guard came by chopper, alighting at the small landing pad with little ceremony and taking over the main building of the covert ops headquarters where they prepared for the arrival of the alien delegation,

They came overland, in weird, unwieldy looking hovervehicles. Four of them, with four occupants per vehicle, and accompanied by two huge metallic robotic war machines.

They took up quarters in the camouflaged aircraft hanger, better suited to their height and girth than the human quarters that would have been the alternative.

They met in the open area that doubled as an exercise yard and a parade ground for the covert ops operatives.

Shauna had been assigned interpreter status, and she sat in the shade with her hands clasped comfortably – and protectively – over her belly. Ron hovered closeby, in earnest conversation – if that is the right word – with Kri’lan. They had fashioned a crude resonance translator from the half built transmitter/receiver Ron had been working on – Kri’lan’s intimate knowledge of resonance technology being allied with Ron’s mechanical aptitude had produced a crude but effective device that could transform spoken speech into the resonating wave patterns that could be understood by the aliens, and vice versa.

They took their respective places either side of a long trestle table that had been set out under a high awning.

The Progenitor leader sat slightly ahead of his two key officers, who were flanked by advisors. Behind them was a platoon of eight heavily armed guards, and at the perimeter were the mechwarrior machines.

Across the table sat Yang, Hsui and Ng, in line, with three key advisors with them. The elites stood behind, constantly scanning the surrounding area for threats, and occasionally glancing at the mechwarrior robots and quietly appraising their fighting capability.

The negotiations commenced.

((Greetings, Earthhuman Yang. I remind you that I am Judaa Marr, honorific Conqueror, leader of The Progenitors and called the Usurpers. We intend to continue the Grand Experiment on Manifold Six and none shall stop us))

Shauna was intrigued at the workings of the alien’s body as the resonance waves hit her. Through Ruth, she followed the oration, but aurally and visually the display was riveting. Sound seemed to birth deep in Marr’s torso, escaping through nasal and throat passages, to be captured by mandible flaps where the waves were caught, caressed and shaped, then somehow enhanced and projected. She felt their impact deep in her being, resonating throughout her skeletal structure.

The crude machine that Ron and Kri’lan had fashioned was working after a fashion. It too captured the resonance wave, and through some serried flaps and apertures converted into low, hesitant, repetitive sound waves that conveyed the meaning.

“Greetings Conqueror Marr. I am Chairman Sheng-Ji Yang, leader of Planetary faction The Human Hive. Our intent is to found a society on the principles of security and control. I sense our paths converge.”

Marr strained to catch the nuances being projected from the machine. His aides helped, as they caught the projections, turned them, magnified them, altered, then passed them to Marr with their interpretations.

Shauna followed these somewhat imperfectly, the multiplicity proving a little confusing to Ruth.

((Convergence – concur. Understand Treaty concept. Advisable for both. Your offer?))

“We desire access to your research data, in exchange for providing you with our valuable research data.”

((Elaborate))

“In exchange for your knowledge of resonance armor and weaponry we will supply you with our research into fusion power, superlubricants and shard weaponry.”

((Unacceptable. Resonance gift requires advanced spaceflight knowledge sharing))

“Alas, my dear Judaa, we have not yet researched this science.”

There was a perceptible coolness descended over the aliens, evidenced by their body language.

Marr was clacking his mandibles, and the agitation was mirrored in his entourage.

((Discussion ended. No Treaty))

He made as if to arise.

Yang was discomfited.

“Conqueror Marr. Have I offended you in any way? If so, forgive me. We are unused to Progenitor ways. How can we get our negotiations back on track?”

((No dissembling, Chairman Yang. Advanced Spaceflight knowledge you have. Not applied as your war drains you of time to build. Treaty requires you share all human knowledge with Progenitors.))

how in Chiron’s name did he know that we had surreptitiously developed advanced spaceflight? They either have incredibly talented spies or ….. of course… the Shauna woman. She’s playing a double game. exactly, dear Chairman. Don’t forget our bargain. The Leader’s Horde and Fellowship City to revert to The Believers. I am in your mind and in Judaa’s. So negotiate fairly. I am your conscience in this drat you Shauna. OK.

“Excuse my forgetfulness, Conqueror. As we have not deployed our knowledge I had not considered it completed research. For this degree of intimacy between our peoples, we would need to become Pact Brothers. And if we share this knowledge, in return, Progenitors will….?”

((We will place an 8 weapon/8 armour resonance garrison in each of your ten bases. We will supply four Mark II Ogres for your most valuable bases’ defense. Treat them well, and use judiciously, as we do not possess the power nor the knowledge to effect repairs on them.))

“Acceptable”

((Acceptable))

“Then, Judaa Marr, we great you as pact brothers.”

((Pact Brothers, yes. Commence knowledge share.))

Shauna said to Yang: “Touch forearms – it signifies agreement.”

Chairman Yang stood up, as did Judaa Marr. Each extended a right forelimb, and touched.

“May our paths converge to glory,” said Yang.

((Courage: to Conquer)) resonated Marr.

They went their separate ways.


[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited January 27, 2000).]

[Googlie]

Sparta Command

Santiago called Foreman Domai in advance.

“Planetory Council meetings dealing with extraordinary resolutions are settled on a one faction-one vote basis, unlike elections which are population weighted. We meet holgraphically. have you the necessary technology?”

“Yes. It may be balky, but it will suffice. I would not like to be present by commlink only. What is the procedure?”

“As I called the meeting, I will set the background, then ask for a vote. As the newest member you will vote first, then by leader alphabetically. I vote last. Oh, and as Planetary Governor I have a veto. Which obviously I will not be exercising in this instance as I am proposing the motion.”

“I understand,” said Domai.

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

“This Council meeting will now come to order.

“Earlier today, as was reported correctly in MorganNews, our hydroponic satellite was destroyed by a spacecraft that suddenly appeared in our environs. In fact, it was one of almost ninety that appeared and were picked up by our radar sweeps. CEO Morgan has confirmed from the sweeps of the Morgan satellite.

“A strange message was broadcast to us, which after some effort our scientists have deciphered:

"humans: Spartan: contravention of: Tau Ceti accords. Only Choice: death."

“The translation is at best speculative. For example, we cannot be sure that they knew of our identity, but our experts say that faction identification was indicated.

“Regardless, there is now an external threat to humankind that I am convinced we must unite to meet. With this conviction, and in this spirit I say let us cease immediately our internal squabbles and establish a pact of humankind to meet this alien threat. If we allow them with their undoubted power to pick us off individually, that is exactly what will happen. However, if we present a united front, and unleash the power of our research on a collaborative basis, we will surely be victorious.

“I propose a Pact of Planet. Unite under my leadership to see off this threat.

“How vote you?

“Foreman Domai, how do you vote?”

“As the newest invite to this Council I thank you for the recognition you have accorded our faction. We of course are concerned with the future of humankind and with the opportunities afforded the working person and cherish the freedom we have won. We have fought too hard to lose it against an alien foe through our own divisive stupidity. I vote to pact, and would be happy to have our combined forces led by the redoubtable Colonel.”

Domai sat down just a little red faced, which the holo projection and display did nothing to alleviate.

“Lady Skye, how do you vote?”

“Pactsister, I agree with your assessment of this threat. I vote for pacting, and burying the hatchet with each other. And we would be willing to follow your lead. I vote Yay.”

“Chairman Yang? Oh, yes, I have a notification that he is in transit from a prior appointment and will join us in session. CEO Morgan?”

“My dear Colonel, I too was aghast when the radar sweep images were downloaded and I saw the extent of the threat. And allow me to pass on my condolences to the families of the 64 gallant young men and women who had their lives so brutally terminated. Much as it pains me to break bread with the Chairman, there comes a time when a greater need must prevail, and this is it. I vote for a common pact and would be honoured to serve in your Planetary Government. I vote Yay.”

“Thank you, CEO Morgan. And I will ensure that the families of the deceased are apprised of your concern.

“Of course, I vote Yay on behalf of the Spartan Federation.

“Commissioner Lal. Although we are officially in Vendetta, not a shot has been fired, and I hope none will. Neither I nor the Spartan Federation bear you or your people the slightest ill-will. Your maintaining of the original principles of the United Nations mission is an example we should all follow, and what better than to invoke it for the purposes of securing the future of the human race? How do you vote?”

“Colonel Santiago. Although I shall never forgive you – or your hotheaded generals – for their attempt on my life, I am encouraged by your desire to restore the original mandate of the United Nations in such unequivocal terms. I second the motion that we should form a common pact for humanity – with one rider. That we unite under my civilian leadership and your military leadership. With this proviso, I vote Yay”

Santiago thought for just a moment. With Lal, they were secure. Without Lal the future was questionable. And what really did “civilian leadership” mean. Nothing without the military might to back it up. She responded:

“That is acceptable to me, but this proviso needs a further vote:

“That we unite in a Human pact under the joint leadership of myself, militarily, and Commissioner Lal, on civilian matters.

“Foreman Domai?”

“Yay”

“Lady Deirdre?”

“Yay”

“CEO Morgan?”

“Yay”

“Then it is unanimous – ah, I see Chairman Yang has joined us.

“Chairman Yang. We have entertained a motion and held a vote – which was unanimous by all present, that we bury our differences and unite in a common Pact to fight off the alien menace. Commissioner Lal would lead the civilian government and I would head its military. How do you vote?”

There was a long pause as the holo image of Chairman Yang seemed to sweep round them all. Then he spoke:

“I am willing under the following condition:

“We restore the balance of power to dayone 2225 status through the return to The Hive of those bases stolen, captured or subverted over the last ten months. I will likewise return to the original factions any bases we have conquered. Do this, and I will ally with you.”

Santiago’s eyes were icy cold as she gazed out from the holovision.

“Chairman Yang. I am prepared to put aside our differences in the interests of a common front against an overwhelmingly powerful alien force. Notwithstanding your deployment of Planetbusting missiles against us. But I will not see wasted the sacrifices made by our and our allies’ soldiers and citizens to see those liberated citizens returned to the squalor and repression you represent. Your condition is unacceptable.”

The holographic figures of Domai, Deirdre, Morgan and Lal could be seen nodding in emphatic agreement.

“Then go to hell, Colonel. You will regret – all of you – this rejection of my olive branch.”

The holograph of Yang flickered out.

closure, 0.9

Archon was stranded out in the wilderness, thrown out of the consciousness like a worn out peice of machinery. He realized that that's all that he had become, at that point. Machine. He sat in a fungus bed and looked at his probe uniform. Sleek. Black. It was all he knew. Frustrated, he howled and began ripping his uniform off. Aki's probes, it turned out, did not eliminate emotions, merely repressed them. As each one shut down it supression functions, Archon became more and more enraged.

what have i done to myself? The rear half of his skull glinted in the light as the twin suns set in the west. From the base of his skull, a metallic set of vertibrae worked its way down his back. His shoulder and left arm were endoskeletal framework. His forearm was flesh down to his hand, but it was horrifying to not be able to feel between his elbow and shoulder. Due to what was said to be structural integrity concerns, his ribcage was replaced with ceramite beams. The artistry of the the work was exceptional, but on a cold day, it just didn't feel right.

Archon felt his face. For the first time, he realized that an eye had ben replaced with a somewhat bulky bionic one. For a moment, he contemplating ripping it out, but with nighttime coming, he quickly decided against it. Now, while much calmer, he could take in his surroundings.

Archon was quite a ways from anywhere and because he was not linked to anyone's network, he was hopelessly lost in a fungal forest. A xenotoad hopped up to his foot and inspected it. Archon sighed. Alpha Prime had already set and its companion was on its way.

A feeling of dread washed over Archon. this could be only one thing... He turned around and saw lone locust of chiron trying to spook him. He reached out, and the locust landed in his hand. you're an ugly little bastard, but in a way, you're kind of cute. The locust appeard to be confused by the change of emotion. It took flight and began to buzz away. Archon watched it as it flew away. pathetic. not even a locust of chiron will stay with me.

The fungus began to heave. Mindworms erupted out of the ground and flew at archon. He relaxed and for once was at peace with himself. if this is the way it must be, then i will not force it.

The boil engulfed him, but left him unharmed. Archon could feel the sensation of movement, but was unaware of speed or direction. He could feel a great urgency, but also a relative peace.

Not knowing what else to do, Archon sat back and enjoyed the ride.

closure, 0.8

system uplink...
.
..
... welcome, archon.

>>you have done well, Archon. what else have you to report?

(( i am assuming that you have been informed of the alien presence above planet. ))

>>yes. i have.

The two sat in silence for a moment. Archon was amazed that Aki had asked him for a child. The biological urge to reproduce was far stronger than any of her devious implants. He thought for a moment of the cybernetics. Much of his skull had been replaced with machines. Ambient light glinted off of the projection of his arm, which had also been replaced. Being uplinked was more thrilling than he could have dreamed, at first. But now he was bored with it. Everything was artificial here. The lighting was totally false. Every object was perfectly illuminated from every angle. Taste and smell were irrelevant, while uplinked. Textures were not accurate, as if they were someone's distant recollection of what something felt like. All in all, it was a miserable existence.

But there was no going back at this point. Eventually, he would not care, but that might take some time.

>>you regret joining us.

((i made the decision on a spur of the moment. my emotions had overwhelmed me.))

>>yet you force yourself to stay.

((i have sworn my allegiance to you. i will not betray another who trusts me.))

>>your guilt seems to be a powerful emotioin with you. however, it makes you weak. that is a liability that we cannot have. because you have given us so much, you will be allowed to leave, after you have given me a child. our doctors can take care ouf the nescesary preparations. we think that this is ample reward for the services you have provided.

download to humanform: Archon

[Googlie]

Sparta Command

Corazon sat back, contented.

Maybe not Supreme Leader, but close. Even if sharing power with the vacillating old fart, Lal. That won’t last long she thought.

But now it was debt paying time.

She dialed CEO Morgan.

“Nwabudike, how are you. Thank you for your support.”

“Ah, my dear Corazon. Think nothing of it. It was the right thing to do. Besides, we had a deal.”

“Indeed. And that is what I’m calling about.

“Effective midnight tonight we shall return Communal Conquest, formerly Morgan Pharmaceuticals to you as well as Ruby Ridge Memorial, formerly Morgan Processing, and likewise you will return Morgan Complex, formerly Plex Anthill to us. This latter arrangement – Processing for Anthill – was originally temporary anyway to forestall Yang’s nuclear ultimatum.

“My spies report that the Chairman is planning to evacuate Bank Collective imminently as he deems his continued hold on it somewhat tenuous after the subversion of Conquest. If you need any assistance in reclaiming bank, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Why thank you, Corazon. I don’t think that will be necessary. Lady Deirdre has already offered – and I have accepted - the assistance of four of her finest mindworms to help in the recovery of Bank. They may already have arrived at our staging areas. My advisers and I felt that the populace had suffered enough already without imposing another firefight on their territory, so we elected to launch a psi attack instead.

“Oh, and by the way, it appears that the third alien ship has departed as well. Our satellite intercepted a transmission from planet to it, but were unable to decode it – probably the Chairman trying to make contact I imagine, to further his own nefarious ends. It was uncanny how our radar sweeps detected the ninety ships becoming three, and then one as the two suddenly left. And now they are reporting that the one is gone as well.”

“Well, Nwabudike, thank you again for concealing the fact that the threat was much diminished. The scare was enough to get the factions united, even if we have to listen to Pravin’s prattle every now and again.”

“Now Corazon, he means well. And besides, I have an idea that will appeal to him and take him out of harm’s way for a couple of months.”

“Share, esteemed CEO, share?”

“Patience, my dear. I’ll explain my plan when I am sure it can be done. It is theoretically possible, but let me make sure of some details then I will ask your advice on it.”

Morgan had a glint in his eye that intrigued Santiago, but she knew that she would get nothing more out of him.

“Well, if there is nothing more…?” she said.

“Indeed. We shall effect the transfer of control in two hours then. Goodnight, my dear Colonel.”

Smoothie, Santiago thought, clicking off.

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

Sea Hive

“Then it is agreed?” asked Yang.

The two Marshals, Hsui and Ng, nodded their assent.

Yang activated the commlink.

“Shimoda.”

“Yes, Mr. Chairman?”

“Delay the transfer of resonance research from the Aliens until after midnight.”

“May I ask why, Mr. Chairman? Every second counts in getting our garrison troops upgraded to use the new weapons and armour.”

“I would not like it to fall into the hands of the Axis powers,” Yang replied. “We are torching and vacating Bank Collective within the hour, so I want nothing on the datalinks that they can use.”

“Understood, Mr. Chairman. I will contact Marr right away. But may I ask, would we not be better off if we dismantle the base facilities progressively before walking away from it?”

“In a perfect world, yes. But that would mean delaying further the transfer of resonance knowledge from our allies. No, let us take what we can, and destroy the rest, and evacuate.”

“it will be done,” Shimoda replied, and the commlink clicked off.

Yang turned to Marshal Ng. “Has Marr left yet?”

“No, Chairman. The last I heard he was complaining at how cramped our shuttle is. they have not yet lifted off.”

“Are we sure we can dock with his flagship?”

“He claims that they have the technology, Mr. Chairman. And besides, it is not our problem.”

“We have told him that all three have disappeared from our radar sweeps?”

“Yes. He claims that they have cloaking technology that renders them invisible to our ‘primitive’ radar. Says that they are still picking up the resonance echo, or some such thing. They are still there.”

Madame Hsui interjected:

“And what of the two Believer bases?”

“What of them,” Yang replied. “With the witch being spirited away from under our noses she’ll be beholden to Sparta. I’ll only meet Shauna’s demands if she can guarantee neutrality of the Believers. And of course she can’t do that. So ours they will remain.”

Yang smiled inwardly. Dreams of reconquest began to form in his mind.

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

The Hive

Finally seated, Judaa Marr gave himself up to his discomfort.

He clutched the controls of the portable resonance sensor array in his talons – he wasn’t exactly sure how he would communicate with the shuttle crew as he expected to have to give directions. He was relying on the starfleet’s ability to tractor the shuttle in when it was close enough.

He sat back against the accelerator couch as the shuttle blasted off from the aerospace center.

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

Morgan Industries

“Launch detected.”

The young operative punched in her report.

“From The Hive. Signature that of their ferry shuttle to their satellite. Threat status nil.”

She sat back. Weird what was happening all of a sudden. And how was it that the Morgan and Hive satellites had been spared – only the Spartan one destroyed. Granted both the others had been on the blind side of Planet when the alien fleet suddenly materialized. But where had they gone. She turned back to her screen.

“Alert. Shuttle is not on track for hive satellite. Plotting course.”

Suddenly she sat up. A fresh blip had appeared on her screen as the satellite radar swept the subspace.

She tracked the flight. It was on an intercept vector with the new signal. Comparing the signatures, she deduced that the new signal was indeed the one they had lost hours ago – the one alien ship that had remained.

She thought Yang is rendezvousing with the aliens

She alerted CEO Morgan.

[The_Progenitors]

Aboard the Planetary Scoutship, 393_s

“He’s approaching. Turning command over to you, Sartor,” Sk’aard resonated.

“Acknowledged” altered the Chief Engineer. He bent lower over the controls, eyeing the display screen intently.

“Low resolution, commence” he resonated softly. The screen lit up as the resonance cannon warmed up.

“Tight one and two, disperse three and four,” he altered. “Pulse on my command.”

The screen reflected the order as the indicated cannon in the Scoutship’s battery were identified.

“Pulse, one tenth, wait.” Sartor resonated. Sk’aard watched anxiously. This was always the most delicate part of the process.

The resonance built, and the crew tensed.

Sartor rested with his talons poised at the controls. The Hive shuttle came into view.

“Now,” Sartor barked.

The resonance waves pulsed rythmically from the four cannon. Sartor’s claws flew over the controls as he worked to get the four wave beams focussed and working together. The two lower resonance waves dissipated slowly, losing their focus the further they strung out from the Scoutship, but in doing so created a temporary singularity that attracted the tighter wave to the gravity well it created. Thus the resonance wave curved as it continued outwards from the Scoutship.

Sartor was careful as the outer limits of the wave reached the Hive shuttle. His talons nudged the controls to enable the resonance wave to just caress the outer skin of the shuttle, nudging it into the controlled singularity. As it settled, Sartor increased the power and the dispersion field of the three and four cannon, thus accelerating the speed at which the induced gravity well formed and reformed.

The shuttle was inexorably drawn towards the Scoutship, to the now open hangar bay doors. When within range of the magnetic field Sartor turned off the cannon to release the resonance tractor and sat back and relaxed, satisfied.

“Well done,” Sk’aard resonated. His emanations were captured by the other crewmembers, caught in their flanks, molded and altered and sent back, showing their approbation and appreciation of Sartor’s skill. He raised his head, clacking his mandibles in pleasure and uttered a throaty grunt of acceptance of their praise.

“Now let’s welcome Conqueror Marr,” Sk’aard resonated.

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

Judaa Marr swept into the command pod of the Scoutship and the assembled senior officers acknowledged his rank as he entered. Each bent low, and turned their heads exposing their necks in obeisance.

“Conqueror,” they resonated almost in unison.

Marr savored the moment.

“I would like some pol,” he resonated softly.

“Of course,” Sk’aard altered, inclining his head to an orderly who scuttled off to prepare some of the aromatic tea that Marr had requested.

Marr looked around the assembled officers.

“Are the other ships cloaked?” he resonated.

“No, Conqueror,” altered Sk’aard. “We are alone.”

“Alone?” returned Marr. “Our resonance sensors identified three major ships and numerous smaller. Where are they?”

Sk’aard altered: “We came with The Impaler and the Scoutship 229_s. When we exited the wormhole we deployed all Gnats in case we encountered a threat. We were preparing to leave when we intercepted your transmission. Fearing a trap by H’minee, Commanders Haart and Krill retreated to the safety of the wormhole and the Sol star system. We will not be able to communicate with them for many turnings until they exit at Sol.”

“Ah,” resonated Marr, as the orderly passed the steaming beaker of pol to him. He held it reverently in front of him and then sucked on the drinking tube. “How I have missed civilization,” he continued. “But you were indicating that the fleet has gone to the Sol system?”

Sk’aard altered his assent.

“That is unfortunate,” Marr altered in return. “I have need of their firepower here. This is the fabled Manifold Six, but I am afraid that it is largely under the control of an alien race. I have befriended one faction of this race, but the others are powerful. Sixty Gnats would have been an overwhelming force. How many have you?”

“Ten,” Sk’aard altered. “And twenty Ogres.”

‘Splendid,” Marr altered. “We will have to reinforce the Gnats – their delicate membranes will never survive atmospheric entry nor the heavier gravity of Chiron without supplementing their capabilities. Oh, they’ll complain if they are anything like mine were. But they will need to be buttressed. The Ogres will just need drop pods, and I have brought two of my allied earthhumans with me who will be able to equip the Ogres with the pods.

“And there is one other thing. As you know, this race is not entirely primitive. They have learned the secrets of spaceflight, and three of their factions had launched satellites into orbit around Manifold Six. You destroyed one. Our allies have one, and they have given me its co-ordinates. The third must be destroyed.”

Sk’aard inclined his neck. “It shall be done,” he altered.

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

‘Ypruss walked softly into the hangar bay with her crewmate, ‘Ygall.

Tonc stirred. He sensed the presence of his pilot and weapons officer.

greetings ‘Ypruss and ‘Ygall. Are we soaring today?

‘Ypruss didn’t understand the empathetic bond between Gnat and crew, nor did she understand how she and ‘Ygall were in each other’s minds while crewing, but away from Tonc they were as strangers.

Yes, my pretty, we have a mission.

The whole brood? I cannot sense any other crews, nor are my brethren stirring.”

No, a single mission. Are you ready?

As always. Will there be danger? Should I prepare my…

No. The target is unarmed. It will be a quick execution. You will need only your song of exultation.

The crew cockpit peeled back, and the two crew climbed into the command cocoon.

Tonc was the pride of the 393_s, officially a Gnat II, the product of the science labs back in the Rim System. Outfitted with the new string disrupter cannon as well as the older resonance bolt cannon, he had both singularity drive and resonance drive engines. He was the only Gnat capable of short wormhole journeys, but had not yet savored the thrill of one.

His crew were elite, the best that the 393_s had.

He came to life under the skilled talons of ‘Ypruss, as she took the Gnat up above the rest of the recumbent fleet and made her way out to the launch deck. The Hive shuttle was lying tethered in one of the bays.

‘Ypruss guided Tonc to an adjacent bay, and waited for the launch doors to open.

Go she resonated inwardly to Tonc.

She was activating only the resonance drive at this stage, as the Gnat exited the scoutship, then the singularity drive kicked in.

Tonc soared free in a wide, sweeping arc that took him well forward of the scoutship.

Immediately ‘Ygall picked up the signals of the Morgan Hydroponic satellite. She had only to think of the co-ordinates in her mind and Tonc was straining to anticipate ‘Ypruss’ command to go there, which was instantaneously given.

They came up behind the satellite as it pondorously sailed through space, the huge latticework of kilometer long girders and glass sheltering the hydroponic farms as if they were sails spread to capture the sunlight of Alpha Centauri’s twin suns. Antlike figures could be seen scurrying around the satellite’s superstructure as they became aware of the Gnat.

Make it quick, ‘Ygall urged.

Agreed ‘Ypruss altered inwardly.

Tonc came up from behind and underneath the extended panels. ‘Ygall held her talon ready on the resonance bolt fire toggle.

Arm resonance

She armed the weapon, and locked on the co-ordinates.

Fire

The resonance cannon pulsed, and ‘Ypruss and ‘Ygall watched in fascination as the pulse wave reached the spread sails of the satellite. The structural membranes of the sails took the wave, and as each pulse hit began to oscillate, growing wilder with each pulse until the strain on the flimsy structure was too much and the four massive sails disintegrated.

‘Ygall turned her attention to the habitation and control pods, and within a tenth the imploded, but not before a shuttle could be seen exiting as some survivors tried to make a run for Planet’s surface.

Catch ‘Ypruss empathed, and Tonc bounded forward as if suddenly let off a leash.

The two crew were pressed deep into their acceleration couches as Tonc chased the shuttle, but it was no contest.

The shuttle began to glow as it encountered the upper atmosphere of Chiron, streaming an ion trail as it entered.

‘Ypruss felt the pain of Tonc as he wanted to follow, but pulled up short as he skimmed and skipped on the fringes of the atmosphere, membranes glowing and trying desperately to dissipate and discharge the heat.

Let them be. It’s my fault. We should have taken out the command modules before the hydroponic farms. Let’s go home

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

“Here are the map co-ordinates of our four bases,” Marr resonated. Our ally has a facility in the middle of the landmass we occupy which is given the name by the earthhumans ‘Nessus Canyon’. Insert the Ogres as soon as each had been fitted with the necessary drop pods.

“And here are the co-ordinates of the home base of our ally. Drop numbers five and six here before resuming to our bases.”

“Conqueror Marr,” altered Sk’aard. “We are all anxious to learn how you came to be here in the first place.”

“Another time,” he re-altered. “Over a pot of pol.”





[This message has been edited by The_Progenitors (edited January 29, 2000).]

[Captain Kirk]

"The reason we freed you my dear Sister is simple. We are currently at war with the Hive. And although the war is going in our favor we, actually the Junta decided it would a good balancing if we can call it balancing move to free you. Besides it restores more of the original status of Planet" said Santiago. Miriam was speechless. She just stood there dumbfounded. Finally she asked the most unlikeliest of questions.

"What year is it ?" she asked. Santiago just looked at her for a moment. Then she answered quickly.

"2226" she said. Miriam was again speechless. 2226. Almost 100 years since she had been captured by the Hive. Had it really been that long? All she could remember was searing pain and a bright light. Occassionaly spots of darkness. Patches when she could not remember anything. The Hive must of given her longevity treatments. To prolong their torture and never let her die. Never to go be with the Lord. Truly the Hive was evil.

"I can't begin to thank you Colonel" said Miriam. Santiago nodded. Than Miriam spoke again.

"Exactly what has happened since I was conquered?" she aksed. Santiago took a deep breath and began.

"There are currently six factions on Planet. My faction. The Hive, the Morgans, the Gaians, the Peacekeepers, and a new faction calling themselves the Free Drones" said Santaigo. Miriam broke in.

"What of my old nemesis Provost Zakharov?" asked Miriam. Santiago answered with a slight smile.

"The Univeristy was conquered by my people years ago. Anyway many wars existed after you dissapeared from the world scene. CEO Morgan ended up pacting with the Hive. However they ended up going to war with each other. We ended up getting sucked into it. And Lady Deirdre rarely escaped being crushed by Yang's armies" said Santiago. Miriam breathed a long sigh. Things had gone down the tubes since she had left. Finally she spoke in a whisper.

"So I get a new chance" said Miriam. Santiago nodded. Than she spoke.

"But please Sister. Come to Sparta Command. Our door is open. I'm sure it would do you good after your harrowing experience" said Santiago. Miriam thought about this for a moment than answered.

"Very well Colonel I will accept your hospitality. Again my unending thanks for freeing me from Chairman Yang's tyranny" said Miriam. Santiago nodded and flickered out leaving Miriam alone with the officers in the bare room.

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

The Leader's Horde

Matthias Linder stepped down from his computer console. His white talent robe flowed around him as he handed a datapad to the Watcher standing next to him. The man nodded and walked out of the room. Linder breathed a sigh of relief. Although he was a talent he still got jumpy around Hive police. Just like a drone. Linder was part of the large ex-Believer population here at The Leader's Horde.

"Matt over here" called his working partner Ruth MacLeod. Linder walked over to her. She was hunched over a computer screen looking at the readout. Finally she pointed to it and spoke.

"Look at this it shows that security has been breached at Sea Hive. Our new capital. According to this Sister Miriam is mysteriously missing from her sphere" said Ruth. Linder frowned and spoke.

"Only intelligence oficers are supposed to read this. Do you know what would happen if you were to be caught?" asked Linder in a worried voice. Ruth rolled her eyes and spoke.

"They would kill my family and dump me in a sphere until I rot. Come on Matt. Yang does this all the time. It's something we live with. Besides my family would be better off in Heaven than in this wretched hole" she commented. Obviously she had lost her fear of Punishers. Either that or she hid it very well.

"Besides Sister Miriam is gone. She could of been freed by another faction. That means soon we could be Believers again. Not Hive slaves. Think of it Matt" she said. Linder stepped back in shock. If Miriam really was free than she could free them. All of them would be free to worship together in peace. Unthreatened by Hive Punishers. He nodded and turned back his console. In the meantime maybe he could find out more.

[Googlie]

Bank Collective

Seng Hsui led his detachment across the neatly laid out farm fields to the west of Bank Collective to the river’s edge. The inflateables were there, ready for the short trip downriver to the waiting transport at the mouth of the delta.

The dismantling of the Hybrid Forest infastructure had gone smoothly, netting 120 credits to the Hive coffers, and Seng and his troops had been given the task of implementing “Scorched Earth” – the destruction of all remaining base facilities.

A curfew had been declared, and was being largely observed.

Seng had not completely complied with the orders he had received. His defense, at the inevitable court martial, would be that he had insufficient explosives to carry out the orders in their entirety.

destroy all base enhancements before evacuating it had said. But Seng had reviewed the base’s infrastructure, and determined that the populace had suffered enough from the nervegas attacks. He spared the Childrens’ Creche, the Rec Commons, the Holo Theatre and the Hab Complex, as they were designated curfew control areas, where the population would be gathered in observance of the curfew. He did wire with explosives the Recycling Tanks, the Energy Bank, The Network Node, The Tree Farm and the Research Hospital.

As they climbed aboard their inflateables, they heard from the base center the THAWOCK, THACRUMP, THAWOCK of the explosives detonating as the Base facilities were systematically destroyed.

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

Henry Manville sat in the Rec Commons Administrator’s Office with his head in his hands, trying to drown out the noise of the explosions from the public buildings around him, and thinking of his failure..

His failure was in not negotiating with Seng Hsui the saving of the Research Hospital. It had been Bank’s pride and joy in the Morgan days, a hotbed of innovation and applied research that spurred the technology advances of the Morgan faction. And now it was being reduced to a pile of rubble.

Wearily he picked up his commlink, and dialled.

“CEO Morgan’s Office. How can I be of assistance?”

“To whom am I speaking?” Henry asked.

“Nightshift watch, Senior Manager Evans, here. And you are?”

“Acting Governor Henry Manville of Morgan Bank.”

“Morgan Bank? What do you mean?”

“The Hive have evacuated the base. The Morgan standard is again displayed from our towers. We need a garrison sent quickly before unrest breaks out – but I fear the will of the people has been crushed somewhat. But send a unit quickly.”

“We will despatch a Penetrator wing immediately. And a garrison unit will follow. And good work, Henry. I’ll make sure that CEO Morgan calls you on his return from dinner.”

Henry Manville began the task of restoring order to the base, again renamed Morgan Bank


[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited January 30, 2000).]

[Googlie]

Velvetgrass Point

I sat in the observation deck of the Velvetgrass Morgan Metropole, looking over the base from its sub-penthouse suite. The Metropole had been built in the last six months, harnessing Morgan wealth with Gaian industriousness.

It was typical Gaian architecture, a four hundred feet high tower, simulating a giant tree trunk, with the habitation discs arrayed every fifty feet or so, spiraling about three quarters of the circumference. The Metropole had eight such discs, and the suite that Lady Deirdre has reserved for me during my recuperation was on the topmost, at the 400 foot level.

Each suite had a bedroom, lounge, small kitchenette, and balcony, which could be fully or partially enclosed at the occupant’s discretion. Heaters and oxygenators were standard for the luxury suites to allow guests to luxuriate outdoors without breathers, although the Gaian ecological sensitivity had ensured that their territory was as earthlike as could be imagined.

Each disc had three levels of apartments for the topmost and secondary discs, four for the lower six. The suites were staggered so that one deck was not right on top of another, offering a measure of privacy to the occupants.

I was fidgeting. Anastasia sat on a lounger to one side, and Deirdre sat across the small coffee table from me. We had a small tray of delicacies on the table – some iced shrimp, toasted krill pieces, and a nutty flavored dip from local trees. I was sipping my favorite beverage – fungal gin, with its aromatic flavor reminiscent of a peaty malt. Deirdre and Anastasia both had small glasses of a distilled spirit that to me tasted vaguely like a kirsch, better suited in my opinion as an after dinner drink, but refreshing enough with ice and water.

We were discussing politics, of course, and in particular, the necessity of the Coalition adopting policies that would be a beacon for the Hive citizens to aspire to.

Anastasia was on her hobbyhorse:

“How can any faction that calls itself enlightened, democratic, even, continue to keep my grandfather locked up – and in a punishment sphere at that? To a quarter of its citizens Sparta is no better than the Hive, and Santiago just as evil and bloodthirsty as Yang.”

“She has a point, you know, Scott,” said Deirdre. “I love Corazon like a sister, and owe her a lot, but she has this glaring character flaw that she has a mean and vindictive streak. And this gets fed by her Generals and Admirals – even her Air Force commanders,” she said, giving me a pointed look. “They play on her paranoia and she always gives in to her darker side.

“I mean, what would Sparta lose if they freed the Professor? He’s been in forced rejuvenation, and presumably has not lost his faculties, and his people have never been fully assimilated into Spartan society, have they?” she asked, looking over at Anastasia.

“Indeed not,” she replied. “ And that’s just my point. We are no threat militarily, and our natural bent would be to side with the Coalition anyway. So free him, and send him to Fort Superiority, and then watch as the full research capability of our scientists gets unleashed in the cause of freedom.”

“And it’s only a matter of time until we can restore Sister Miriam to the Believers, and they can get at least two bases back under their banner.

“And what do you make of these Drones – the Free Drone faction started by Domai?” asked Deirdre. “I’ve had the opportunity of talking with him on two or three occasions – he seems quite levelheaded, although a bit idealistic on workers versus management issues. And what about this Alpha Prime base out on the Peacekeeper’s border with Sparta. Didn’t that used to be the military research center for Sparta?”

“Indeed it did,” I replied. “It’s amazing that these half human half cyborgs could exist right under our noses without us ever finding out. And you say that Stazi and I were briefly in their control?”

“Yes,” Deirdre replied. “And apart from the odd sentence construction, you would never have known any different.

“But talking of different, what are your plans now?”

Indeed. I had long pondered this in my convalescence. What was I going to do now? Surely I was far too young to be considered an ambassador, even at my new “age” of forty. And my flying skills were eroding, but not to the extent that I couldn’t reclaim them. My administrative skills were excellent, and my political skills, I thought, were unmatched. But of no use to Sparta, discredited as I was in the eyes of my fellow junta members. What could I do?

“I thought of offering myself to Pravin Lal as a Coalition Chief Executive Officer,” I joked.

Deirdre floored me with her reply:

“I think that would be a splendid idea. Corrie has unshakeable faith in your judgement, as have I, and you are well respected by Mwabudike as well. And Pravin has known you for …. 200 years or so. You and he go back as long as you and I. Even Yang respects you. And Pravin needs to visit the rejuvenation tanks for a month – as indeed do I – and we need to rest assured that the civilian administration of the coalition is in good hands. And none better than in yours.”

“Lal would never agree,” I replied. “Besides, I can’t see him taking a month off to rejuvenate. That would set him back to … 40 or so. No, he prefers the tinkering treatment every five years or so. You couldn’t coerce him to be absent for a full month.”

“Oh, I think he could be persuaded,” said Deirdre, a twinkle in her eye.

“How?” Anastasia asked.

Deirdre tapped the side of her nose with her forefinger. “A little bird told me that CEO Morgan has just prototyped The Cloning Vats, and his scientists have reported cloning a complete human from a strand of hair.”

“So?” I asked.

“Don’t you see?” Deirdre asked impatiently, scrunching her face up in frustration at my stupidity. “He carries around with him a lock of hair from his beloved Pria. If Morgan technology is as good as claimed, then he could shortly have a vibrant Pria by his side again. She was in her early thirties, so he’d want to be slightly older. Mwabudike’s going to invite him to use Morgan’s rejuv tanks for himself and the cloning vats for Pria during their next conversation.”

“And you?” I asked.

“He has already offered, and I have accepted. I want first to dedicate a new base, at the site of the one he destroyed these years ago, and that will be next week. After that, I’ll take advantage of his offer. There’s never a good time, but now is as good as any. It will take some time for the coalition to get its act together, and it will also take some time for us to collectively evaluate this alien threat. After that, there may be no opportunity. So I have recalled Shannon Lindly from the space reclamation program to come here and head up the government in my absence. You’d be a good mentor for her if you have an executive role in the coalition.

“If you truly are interested, I’ll speak to the others and we’ll make it happen.”

I looked over at Anastasia, the love of my life.

“What do you think, Stazi?” I asked. “How would you like to live at UN Headquarters for a while?”

She looked at me shrewdly. She knew how important this opportunity was to me – how it would give my life purpose again. And she knew her bargaining power. If she refused, then I would too. She took advantage of this leverage.

“Release my grandfather, and I will come with you. If he is kept in custody, then I would find it impossible to live with the Chief Executive of a repressive regime.”

I looked over at Deirdre, who was smiling wryly.

“I’ll talk to Corrie right away,’ she said.


[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited January 31, 2000).]