Ambrosia Software Web Board: "The Conflict" - Ambrosia Software Web Board

((The buildup is over. The conflict itself is about to be unleashed...))

"Convoy Command, we have an unidentified anomaly at 90° by 60°, please copy."

"Copy that Raven Leader. Take a few fighters and investigate."

"Roger Command." replied the leader of the fighter squadron, and veered his fighter away from the freighter convoy, watching his wingmates follow his lead. He sighed. What a mission! His entire squadron of fighters, the pinnacle of UNS stellar technology, escorting a bunch of Ishiman cargo vessels to a small dump of a system, to give medical supplies to a race probably too dumb to use them.

A couple of diagrams lit up on his HUD, graphing the anomaly in 3D. A superimposed map showed that the anomaly was an opening jump gate. He frowned. "Command, what the hell is a jump gate doing opening here? Have you had any word of company?"

"Negative, Raven Leader. Are you sure of your sensors?"

"Certain, Command. A jumpgate is opening." replied the squadron leader. "Ravens One through Six, get your metallic butts over here."

As the other fighters approached, the jumpgate flared, spreading a circle of green light pulsing in two dimensions across empty space. Out of it emerged a huge, dark vessel.

"Oh my god... is that a Vindicative?" queried a breathless wingmate.

"Command, are you getting this?"

"Roger that. Opening a Comm Channel now... we are not receiving a reply."

"Command, I'm not liking that gun pointing at me. It's bigger than my bloody fighter!"

"I assure you, the DGA would never-" Light flashed, and the fighter disintegrated, swiftly followed by the rest of its squadron. The huge battleship cruised towards the convoy, while the captain at his console looked on in disbelief. Glowing words appeared on his display.

The Order of the Golden Dawn sends its regards

"The Order of the Golden Dawn? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" asked the captain. They were his last words. Energy fluxed as the battleship fired again, destroying the unarmed vessel with one blast.

Soon, only debris existed where once a medical convoy had been.

8 Lightnings finally climbs into his newly repaired fighter. He takes it off, spinning it a few times to remind himself of how much fun it is to fly. The ship is slower than the Endurance, but more maneuverable and better armed. He sets a course for Tetrik V, and hits the jumpgate.

(SA, that was one heck of a "Buildup". "Buildup"s usually go easily, don't they? So, you're implying that the hard stuff is still to come? Oh dear...)

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

"Anything that can be achieved using magic can be achieved using technology." -Salrillian Illegal Publicist ekt-Herna in his last message to the Salrillian public.

A lone Elejeetian cruiser lies on the Salrillian border, disabled.

A transmission rings out. "This is the EES Eagle. We are heavily damaged and require assistance. Repeat..."

A Salrillian carrier drops out, slowly advancing towards the Elejeetian ship. It appears that they are about to fire when:

A barrage of Onas pulses knock the carrier off course as the cruiser slides nimbly out the way of the T-bolt rods. A pair of Heavy Rockets slam into the ship simultaneously with a rapid-fire protopulse cannon. The battle is short, and soon the carrier is disabled, failing even to launch it's fighters.

The Lightning hovers above the carrier. The Elejeetian Cruiser, Obish Escort and Khada Fighter hover in place near it. "Signal the transport."

The small transport dropped in, and placed three small, almost spherical objects around the carrier. They are triggered, and the Salrillian ships is suddenly stopped. "Tractor moors active. Boarding cleared."

The transport docked with the carrier.

The onboard fighting was as short as the spacial combat. The prize crew disconnected the carrier from the transport, and the five ships disappear into hyperspace, on an indirect course for Tetrik V.


[This message has been edited by 8 Lightnings (edited 12-01-2000).]

8 Lightnings surveyed his new vehicle, the Voltare. Walking down to the fighter bay, he say the eight standard Salrillian fighters, alongside three sleek Archangels.

"I can't resist the Archangels. Prep them and find pilots. Give them names and transponders: Alecto, Magaera and Tisiphone - the Three Furies. Bring the Lightnings in here. I want the standard fighters scrapped and their LRPK's put on the Lightnings. The metal can be used for repairs."

He watched as the technicians moved the fighters over to the repairs began stripping them down. The Lightnings were towed in and put down; they were then moved over to the repairs area also.

"Bring in the whole fleet. We're going to have a meeting to see how much we can do with this new ship."

As the Endurance, Eagle and Surge, (once Surge III), came in and docked, he noticed the wrecked heavy rocket launcher on one of his Lightnings. Nothing in this universe could fix one of them. What would he do now...


[This message has been edited by 8 Lightnings (edited 12-01-2000).]

[This message has been edited by 8 Lightnings (edited 12-01-2000).]

The conference room, surprisingly, had seats that actually molded themselves to suit the user; presumably a side-effect of the DGA range of races of different sizes and shapes.

The meeting went on, and the eventual decision was the one 8 Lightnings had planned from the start: the Voltare was to be used primarily as a docking/repair point for the Lightnings, the Endurance, the Surge, the Eagle and, now the Furies (I can't quite bring myself to call them Archangels).

They changed the command codes on all the Salrillian ships; Sargatanus might want them back...

[This message has been edited by 8 Lightnings (edited 12-01-2000).]

The reports had been combed over and over for the twelveth time now, and neither the Military Directorate, Internal Affairs, or Oracular Council could make any comclusive sense of it. Even Cal Sev was begining to get nervous, though he wouldn't show it. Verad had been acting on edge for a while noow, and considering the recent events since the StarLance, he had every right to.

Sargatanus stared at the latest report: No discrepencies in fleet orders or placemtent found, no clear possibilities. Oracular Net has reached NO CONCLUSIONS. Iniating next investigation. He scowled at the report. It wasn't anything he didn't know (he was after, all in direct link with the Oracular Net), but it was no less discomforting. He lifted his eyes and diverted his attention back to the commitee. "Well we have a problem then, don't we?" It was a rhetorical question; more of a statement.

The commitee remained silent until verad finally spoke up: "Clearly we're dealing with proffesionals. Whoever they are, they have been around for a while and have planned this perfectly. Not even the Oracular Net can give anything close to a clear answer."

"Obviously." Sargatanus spat. "We will have to rely on intuition and hypothesis for this. Let's use our heads here. What is this 'Golden Dawn' group, and how are they able to alude the best security force in the known universe?"

Sothos stood. "Well it isn't likely to be some ancient hermetic cult. There would be far too much behavioral evidence for something like that. I'm certain we can rule that this is obviously coaxed."

Cal Sev nodded. "Agreed. But no terrorist group of any calibur could stay hidden from us long enough to orchestrate this sort of thing."

Sargatanus pondered. "They seem to have an ocluded agenda. First, they have a terror spree on Earth, the continue with a bombing on our capital, and now the raid a UNS fleet? They couldn't benefit... Unless..." His face turned a slight red as he grit his teeth.

"Your Eminance?" Verad began questionabley.

"So. That's how they want to play it." Sargatanus said cryptically. "This is the gratitude we get."

The council stared as the Haruspex stood and seemed to rant to no one.

"They still are fixed on starting thier pathetic war!" He yelled.

The council knew now, and took their seets. Cal Sev shook his head and muttered: "The Phylydions."

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Throughout their history these "unenlightened" beings have continually opposed and fought abuses of power wrought by their own bretheren. We, as the prophets would do well to learn from these Humans.
-Final statement of the Salrilian reformist Sirthis shortly before his execution.

Shij, Salrilian Auspex, slithered towards his quarters, his thoughts whirling. So the arrogant Phylydions were bent on starting another war? Well, they would regret it. He personally knew the power of the DGA's forces, and the UGPA would be no match. Still, war was not the only possible outcome...

The door to his quarters slid noiselessly open on his approach, and Shij began to enter. Then he stopped, freezing in the doorway. Heightened senses quivered. There was someone else in his room!

A dark humanoid figure detached itself from the shadows, and advanced on him, a pistol in its hand. The dim light falling on it revealed a hint of a smile.

"Time to die, slug." it spoke, and raised the weapon. Shij, expecting the attack, dropped to lie on the floor and rolled, the bolt sizzling into the ground beside him. Then his tail flicked up, and his defensive weapon, a three-shot Lepton gun, flashed into activity. The would-be assassin dropped, a hole through his chest.

Shij gave a hissing click of victory and slithered over to his attacker, flipping him onto his back. Three eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling.

[This message has been edited by Sundered Angel (edited 12-04-2000).]

The translation room on Tetrik V was built for the sole purpose of translating the text on the ruins a kilometre away, and that within the computer on the Endurance.

It was bustling at the moment. They'd just made a breakthrough.

8 Lightnings walked in, to be greeted by Clarev, one of the scientists. "Commander, we've just made an amazing breakthrough! We've used our knowledge of the controls in the Endurance to come up with a small word base! Using that, we've worked out a low-level grammar base for the text!"

"So, now what can we do?" he asked, confused by Clarev's rapid babble.

"It means that it is possible to come up with a translation!"

"How long?"

"I don't know. A few months, if we're lucky."

8 Lightnings wandered out, shaking his head...

------------------
8 Lightnings
Fleet: Lightning 1, Surge, Eagle, Endurance, Voltare, Alecto, Magaera, Tisiphone
"CRUISER DESTROYED. 91 remaining" -Ares, chapter 9, Hand Over Fist

The Phylydian Sun glared brightly, it's light taking merely a few minutes to reach the massive construction in orbit over the Phylydion World and it's massively scarred moon. Inside the massive frame stood a nearly equally massive starship undergoing heavy repairs and reconstruction.

Cargoship Zeta to Phylydia II dockmaster we are in position to dock, over?
Dockmaster here what is your cargo and destination, over?
Parts and crew, Phylydia II engineering section, over.
We have no record of incoming Cargoship Zeta scheduled. Halt! You are under arrest, Over!

The Captain of Cargoship Zeta did not respond, but instead turned a key in the engine core. The freighter wasn't full of parts and crew, but of explosives. There was a space-rocking blast. As the glare died down, a gaping hole was left where the entire command port of the shipyards were.

The Phylydia II was only slightly bruised: a few fuses and cables blown from the EMP blast, but the ability to complete repairs on it was completely destroyed. The Phylydia II would have to launch from drydock partially inoperable.

A heavily armed and armored shuttle dropped out of Omnispace in the Dominus system, escorted by three Talon-class fighters. The ship roared past the outer planets and the heavy military bases on them, and towards Dominus itself. Drion Nerec looked out the viewport. Security had been greatly increased since the incident yesterday, and he saw several fighter squadrons patrolling the system outskirts and a small fleet orbiting each outer planet. "How did they get past all this?" He thought as the now-standard trio of Kiojea-class heavy battlecruisers approached, weapons locked and charged, to confirm the shuttle's identity.
His ship was cleared and sped to Dominus. The Phylydia II was a grand sight at first, but a few scars along its hull revealed where repairs had been not quite completed. The remainder of repairs would have to be rushed or skipped completely now that a situation was turning towards possible war. Although they still had not confirmed that the suicide ship was from the DGA, there were few others it could have been. #Still,# he thought, #Retoe did find those ships from the Ancient Rebellion. They could have given a disguised shuttle access to Dominus orbit.# Just as his ship was about to pass through the atmosphere, Nerec saw another vast shape on the horizon. It was the Phylydia herself, in orbit as Dominus's main defensive weapon, and ready to Omnijump to any system if she was needed.
The shuttle dropped towards Octicon HQ and landed on the small landing pad between the eight great stones that formed an Octagon on the circular building's roof. A door opened and ten Taeskor Commandos double-timed onto the landing pad, weapons raised, at attention. Nerec strode out with less confidence than usual with his Pure Taeskor close at his side, Keutae sheathed in sleeve but ready to be drawn at any moment. Nerec decended down a short stair flight to a lift tube and walked in. #This is going to be a hell of a month.#

As the lift quietly slid down the tube, Nerec pondered his next move. Most likely it has the DGA that attempted the Phylydia II's destruction. Trace elements of Eonium Explosives had been found, a weapon so advanced, the culprits were narrowed down to Elejee, and Salril. However the explosives had been delivered in what Nerec considered a cowardly and sneaky method. If the DGA was behind this, it certainly wasn't their style.

His train of thought was derailed as the lift shook. The lights in the large tube flickered and died, and with an ear-splitting screech of metal, the elevator stopped and Nerec's Taeskors sniffed the air. The could smell something in the shaft.

tap.

tap

tap

They shuddered as something passed through their systems that hadn't been felt for many years.
Fear.

It continued, reaching it's climax. Suddenly the roof caved in and through the hole, a shadow lept through the ceiling! The Taeskors, engulfed in pure terror, shielded themselves. An boiling inhuman scream of pure wickedness echoed throughout the shaft as the bladefest took place.

The creature slashed at the entourage. Three of the taeskors fell quivering, their last sights being darkness. Darkness and terror. Slowly, Nerec overcame his fear as he watched his men die in darkness. He watched the shadow creature slash and dart in madness.

Nerec Drew his blade.

The dark creature saw the glint and lept for Nerec.

Closing his eyes, Nerec felt nothing but swirling terror and pain. He threw the blade.

Silence.

He opened his eyes, one by one by one. The creature lay dead. The terror that had engulfed Nerec and his entourage died the moment the creature died. He slowly wakled over to the body of darkness, but before he could get a look at it, it faded into oblivion. It disappeared into nothing.

The rest of the evening proceeded as scheduled, yet Nerec couldn't shake the feeling. He wouldn't soon forget the inexplicable fear that struck and killed even his pure taeskors. He couldn't help but wonder whether the Phylydia II incident and the attempted Assassination were connected.

If so, the Phylydions would have a lot more to worry about than the overzealous DGA...

Sundered Angel stood on a rocky outcropping, a spot of wild beauty on the civilised world of Dominus. In the distance, a city glinted. Sundered Angel shivered- the night was cold, and he was wearing only a black jumpsuit and a short black cape.

The cold annoyed him a little. Why should he be cold? Concentrating, he looked inwards, drawing on his powers- and felt a chill. His eyes snapped open, glowing red as he scanned the night sky. Then he nodded, a brief chuckle escaping his lips as he sensed... a power. His gaze once again settled upon the city in the distance, a collection of glittering lights.

"The Phylydion Empire. Powerful. Noble. Arrogant. Doomed."

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

In the city, unaware of the dark figure on a rise a hundred kilometres out, a Phylydion Communications Officer looked boredly at his screen. TACINT- TACtical INTerception, had to be the most useless military job in the empire.

The only messages his systems could reliably intercept were Human ones- like the savages could produce anything they needed to hear, he noted. Still, it was a proper job, and someone had to do it. It was just a pity it had to be him.

Six red lights lit up on his display, followed by the yellow text of the computer assesment unit.

Broadband Tachyo-Photonic Emission detected.

The operator smiled. Excellent! His first break in months! Only sophisticated races used the nearly untracable Tachyo-Photonic comm systems, which narrowed the options hugely. Salrilian, Elejeetan, some of the more powerful Phylydion vessels. Intercepting this was highly unusual.

"Run decryption programs Beta through Epsilon." He ordered.

Emission is unencrypted. Multi-lingual options detected. Select Phylydion?

Frowning the officer gave his assent. Red lettering appeared on the screen.

The Order of the Golden Dawn claims the artifacts of the Verasi. The puny Arliacian forces shall not stand in our way; the Order shall claim what is rightfully ours. Do not attempt to interfere.

The TACINT Officer flicked a switch.

"Get me Drion Nerec, please. We have a problem."

[This message has been edited by Sundered Angel (edited 12-08-2000).]

As the ship flew sputtering through space en route to the Phylydion shipyards where the 10 slightly damaged ships were waiting to be refit, repaired and recrewed, the engineering crew was very busy making sure the new fuel source didn't corrode the ship's interior. Piemur1 was at the bridge watching the fuel consuption rate. 0% Consumption, 75% Production.

He had found by that with a certain chemical compound (that happened to be a popular drink in his own universe) in conjunction with the Mizer-Super-Scoop Engine would in effect produce virtually infinite fuel, as well as a means of producing liquor...He never shared this information with anyone except his own crew. Unfortunately, it required a lot initially. The simple act of flying worked the compound through the engines and with some ingenious piping and ramscoop physics, managed to produce more of itself. There was also a small valve that collected the potent stuff into a set of Fielded Kelarium cargo pods. Anything else would have corroded. This was also a way of making money...

Piemur1 was disturbed from his dreams of rolling in the dough when his sensors detected a transmission...

The Order of the Golden Dawn claims the artifacts of the Verasi. The puny Arliacian forces shall not stand in our way; the Order shall claim what is rightfully ours. Do not attempt to interfere.

Now what was that about? he mused just as he entered Phylydion space...there was some trouble clearing his ship to docking as his ship was not really well known. Does this have something to do with this Golden Dawn thing? He didn't have much time for musing this over as his ship finally got through to the overly secure docking bay. "Engineering? What's our status?" "We've had a couple of close ones, but we managed, nothing damaged...badly at least." sounds of hissing and men yelling "Oh well, once we get into gear, there will be nothing to worry about, sir! NO WAIT! NOT THAT VALVE... The ship trembled and a noxious smell eminated into the hanger...men working throughout the hanger started to stagger...

Piemur1 sighed, cleared his throat, and prepared to be angrily shouted at by the control deck...Why me?

------------------
Umm, is Iced Tea supposed to glow like that? Last day of school near locker #173

(Just a reminder towhoever did the last "Narrator" post: Although the capitpl world of the Imperium is somtimes called "Phylydia" by outsiders, Phylydia is the name of the core area of the Imperium, and Dominus is the name of the capitol planet.)

Traek Cicion was in the training room of the Phylydia again, practicing his Impact Kinetics. He thrust his fist forward with furious energy, and a block of stone ten feet away shattered. He lowered his arm, breathing heavily. Impact Kinetics had been studied by Phylydion fighting masters for centuries, and it still consumed a great deal of energy to do significant damage. Although Cicion could now kill an average Phylydion from twenty feet with a single thrust of his fist, he would almost collapse afterwards. The more economical attacks, designed to injure or throw off balance, were the ones commonly used.

Practicing this seemingly supernatural ability, he remarked on the key aspect of his species that allowed highly-trained Phylydions to perform it, which had lately been used against them: Absolute emotional control. Phylydions were the most emotionally stable species known, capable of feeling intense fear, anger, and so forth but without having any side-effects to them. But this came with a very heavy price. As soon as that control was removed, Phylydions became inferior to most species in every aspect. The third eye, the conflicting images of which the brain usually sorts out and integrates into those of the other eyes to create a much clearer, brighter picture, automatically shuts down, the sense tendrils cease to function, the incredible agility of the physically sound Phylydions diminishes significantly, and thus the lesser strength of Phylydions, normally made up for by agility, becomes a true disadvantage. The problem was, he remarked, all Phylydion soldiers, especially Pure Taeskors, are specifically trained and conditioned to be incapable of losing control. Phylydions are relatively resistant to losing control naturally anyway. The odd creature that almost killed Nerec(And he didn't even want to think about how it ever got inside the lift tube), had completely wrecked the emotional stability of his bodyguard, according to autopsy.

He breathed heavily as he split a board across the room. He was dedicated to never letting it happen to him. The Imperium was being shaken, and only the elite artists of war known as the Pure Taeskors presented an advantage on the Imperium's side.

------------------
-Traek Cicion of the Taeskor
"Never tell me the odds!"
-Han Solo
"Then we'll do it real quiet-like."

Drion Nerec sat alone in the heavily guarded room. How....? He wondered. How did that creature chew through some of the finest stock Dominus offered as if it were tissue paper? Could, perhaps, the Taeskor have a flaw? He remembered the attack vividly, unable to shake his mind from it. That creature somehow... projected fear onto it's enemies. It engulfed it's victims in pure terror shortly before slaughtering it. That was a burning fear I had never felt before in my life and I will never forget it.

The door opened. In walked one of his Agents. Nerec's mood brightened. "Ah, Myrmidus. Come in, come in!"

The Grand Tæskor walked into the room, his white cape billowing in the slight draft. "You wanted to see me, my lord?"

"You are the brightest and strongest of our race, Myrmidus. Only in such an emergency would I risk you."

"My life is your childsplay, my lord."

"Excellent. I believe you have been briefed on the two incidents that took place this week: The bombing and destruction of the Dominus Primary Repair Docks and the attempted assassintion of yours truely, yes?"

"I have."

"I am sending you on an investigatory mission. Find out who... or what is behind this all."

"By your command."

Y'know, I think I'll sit this one out. It's more fun to read.
(Sorry 'bout the wasted space tho.)

Amidst the heavy activity in orbit over Dominus, the single heavy fighter went unnoticed as it departed the planet. Inside it's cockpit, Tæskor Myrmidus smiled. He dialed the jumpgate trace activation code.

Results! Already! The suicide freighter was traced back to the Orowo system. Myrmidus Cursed. Kadt! The nearest civilization there was the outer border of Elejeetian Space. The Elejeetians weren't going to be pleased see a Phylydion Military ship using their jumpstreams. He'd better go solo in this.

The heavy fighter dropped into Omnispace with a slight wink of a flash.

Darkk watched the now-reopened stardocks of Ferapont work. The docks were building mostly "transport vessles" and "civlian conversions". In reality, they were upgrading the old, obsolete ships captured intact or mostly intact at the 3rd Battle of Sol. As no outsiders visited Ferapont, there was no one to say the ships weren't what they were claimed to be. Also, because the hull shape had been passed down to the current ships, they were almost indistinguishable from current Nijayias ships. Several "bulk freighters" were also under construction that were actually combat vessels. All this suited Darkk, and also Vaerion, who was casually aware of this and would love a strong NPM to be available when he took command once Darkk was relieved. Darkk went to his bed aboard StormBreaker to take turn in for the night.

Darkk would wait for what was to come. Something would happen. Something big. Something soon. The network caught feelings that pervaded large groups of related species, such as the Phylydions and the Humans. Dreams were especially reveiling...

Fear? Anger? Somewhere in between? Something was going down. Confidence? Yes. Bully. The word flashed through Darkk's dreams. Beating up the weak? Attacking the down? Hard to say. It was the Phylydions. They were moving. But to what, how, and why? Something would happen if nothing was done. Something. Soon. Bad. Yes, something bad, something tragic. What? To us? To someone else? Who can say...

Darkk woke up. Those dreams were becoming more real each night. He might just ask Nerec, or Vaerion. No, Nerec wouldn't tell him, and Vaerion wouldn't know. He thought of what would happen if a war broke out. The Nijayias would be caught in the middle, unable to put up a significant fight, and be pushed from servitude to extinction. That would have to change. Some sort of... Solution. Of course...

Darkk promplty went back to sleep much less worried.

------------------
*Error: target is violating the laws of physics*
*Error: target is locally exceeding c*
*Error: unable to determine if target exists or not*
*Error: target cannot be hit*

[This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 12-07-2000).]

"So, Captain. What do you think of the recent trouble with these Golden Dawn fanatics?"

"Excuse me?"

Pharris was pulled out of his daydream. He was sitting at the table of honor in a tremendous banquet hall. The man next to him was President Jack Wade. A friendly man, one of the youngest survivors of the Ares campaign he was just in his fifties, with greying hair. He was a smart, calculating man, but he was very friendly and down to Earth. He had been too young to actually fight in any of the Ares battles, but he was still seen as one of the liberators of Earth, which is why he had been elected president for four consecutive terms. He smiled at Pharris. A smile that was famous across the UNS.

"The order of the golden dawn. While most of our fleet was kept busy here, an ishiman convoy of medical supplies got destroyed. One of the cargo ships managed to drop her emergency beacon and recorder before she was destroyed. The logs show a Vindictive class battleship entering the shipping lane, and wrecking our ships without provocation. They sent the message 'The Order of the Golden Dawn sends its regards'. Our analysts don't know what to make of it. The same group has claimed responsability for several terrorist attacks on major cities on Earth and Lalanade, but we have no idea of who they are. We had simply assumed they were humans, that is until this latest event. Now, we're not sure who or what they are."

"Well those bombings were all over the news. This could be the DGA simply taking an opportunity to make trouble while avoiding a formal declaration. However, given the recent display of combined military power, I think that the DGA might think twice about risking any sort of fighting until they are aware of our capabilities in full. Unfortunately, that doesn't explain where they got that battleship. People don't just give those things away. It would be a good idea to probe some of the major DGA facilities, see if anything is missing."

"You know as well as I do that the DGA isn't going to tolerate any probes crossing the 34th radii. We can hardly get them to let our trade ships cut through in sealed jumplinks, and they're threatening to cut those down too. Building a jumpgate powerful enough to bypass Cantharan space entirely is prohibitively expensive, and you should hear how much crap I already have to deal with from that damn senate about the military buildup. Though I think I might have a bit of use for you, if you're interested. but we'll talk later, People are finishing dinner."

President Wade stood up at the podium, and began speaking, as the camera flashes went off rapidly.

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

Temporary High Captain Garrion Retoe paced back and forth in front of the smirking Phylydion rebel in a metal chair whom they had managed to capture alive. The others had killed themselves before the ship was boarded. Although Garrion was quite good at commanding ships and the men and women that ran them, his training was that of an elite PhylSec agent, and that training included interrogation. He spoke frankly with a hiss in his voice, punctuating certain words every so often for effect.

"You are now my property, and mine alone. You are no longer a true entity. IF I were to use you as my personal slave, the very government that freed our entire race from slavery would not stop me, and might even encourage me. You are mine, but anything the crew does to you is not my problem, and will MOST definitely be yours. The miserable, short flicker of time once known as your life is now meaningless and may end at any time. I control you, I command you, I decide your fate, and if at any time you so much as BREATHE in a way that I find displeasing, I will terminate your pathetic existence. And don't worry, you won't die immediately, although you will immediately wish you had. I am not kind in my killing of traitors." He waited a few moments for this to sink in.

"If you answer my questions truthfully, and I CAN tell if you are, I will give you many times more kindness than you slimy rebel filth deserve. In other words, any at all. I may even free you to live your life on one of the core planets- appropriately monitored, of course. What do you say?" The rebel remained silent, but the smirk had disappeared from his face. He looked at Garrion, not saying anything and clearly stating that he would not. Garrion smiled, approached, balled his right hand into a fist, and backhanded the man across his face. The man and chair were lifted into the air and the chair, with the rebel strapped in, fell on its back. The man's hands, tied behind the chair, were crushed under his own weight. He gritted his teeth and tried to roll over. Garrion held him in place.

"I will give you one day FROM this second to decide." Garrion walked out of the room and the door closed. The rebel rolled over, freeing his hands from the chair's weight, and breathed heavily. Outside, two guards stood next to the door and two stood along the wall opposite it. There was also one in the cell with him. He laid his head on the metal floor, and tried to sleep in the rediculous position he was in.

"The DGA frontier that the UNS shares with the Cantharans has been settled at the 34th radii. Even after the wars, the Cantharans were willing to let us run jumpstreams through their space. Needless to say, this is somewhat of a grey area, as not everybody even agrees that is exists. However, with the DGA growing in power, it is becoming less and less clear that our jumpgates will be allowed to project streams to Ishiman space. In fact, they have been useing that as a threat to impose treaties upon us. The Ishimians are once again showing their pacifism and are hoping for a diplomatic solution. They even have plans for a jumgate that can push the streams around Cantharan Space. Congress is split. Half of them want us to go with the costly jumpgate, and take away the Cantharan bargaining chip,but the thing costs swice our total budget for a year. The others want to declare war, and cut a new free trade zone out of the Cantharans. Half of those guys are the old Ares fighters, now old politicians. They say they did it once, and we can do it again.
I don't want to pull the DGA down on top of us. I've been pushing for a bigger, more advanced military, and we're getting better. Unfortunately, despite our newest ship designs, and some technological aid from the Ishimans and Elejee, we still couldn't take on the entire DGA as it is now. And lately, the golden dawn has been bombing more and more of our colonies, and we still can't seem to figure out who's behind the terrorist attacks. I'm worried about leaks in our intelligence agencies, so I want you to do some scouting for me. I know that the Andalusa is well reckognised, but I also know that was never an issue with the Barbarossa before, so I want you to go and check out any DGA controlled shipyard that would be capable of putting out a vindicative without our scanners picking it up. I understand that this could take a while, and could take a while, so I'm going to leave two million credits in an anonymous Gaitori bank account, number X-092836-2387-1029; 398092. These are clean UNS credits from the State Department's laundered accounts. Use them well. Your explicit directions should be waiting for you in the emergency survival pouch under your seat. Turn the handle clockwise before opening them, I wouldn't want you to explode. If you don't accept, open locker 147 in terminal four when you dock at Trident. Otherwise, send reports to the PO box of Aaron Johnes at Utopia Planetalia. Good luck Captain.

The President's face dissapeared off of the screen, and a puff of smoke came out of the back, followed by the strong smell of melted plastic. Pharris puffed the cigar harder, to mask the smoke. Of course, he politely put it out when the flight attendant came up the aisle, and waited for her to disappear, before he pulled the "Body bag" sytle emergency pressure pouch out from under his seat. He twisted the handle clockwise, and pulled. Inside were several flash roms, as well as what looked like a pound of plastic explosives hooked up to the handle. Pharris deactivated the detonator, just to be safe, and replaced the pouch under the seat. He pocketed the flash roms, and settled back in his chair. To accept, or not to accept...

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[This message has been edited by Slug (edited 12-09-2000).]

Communiqué
From: Phylydion High Octicate
To: Salrilian Government

The Phylydion Empire announces its intention to move to the aid of the beleagered Arliacian nation. We shall protect the Verasi artifacts from the terrorist organisation known as the Order of the Golden Dawn, and cordially request that you refrain from negative involvement in this situation.

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

Communiqué
From: Verad, Salrilian Auspex
To: Phylydion High Octicate

While we congratulate you on your eagerness to assist a fledgling race, the Divine Galactic Axis cannot sanction what constitutes a barely covered invasion effort. The Arliacian nation must request assistance from its benefactors before they can enter its territory with the military forces required to fend off the Order of the Golden Dawn. I propose a meeting with Arliacian representatives to appraise them of the situation and allow them to choose their assistance as they wish.

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

Communiqué
From: Phylydion High Octicate
To: Verad, Salrilian Auspex

The results of the Arliacian Conference were inconclusive and misguided. Such a young race cannot be fully aware of the Galactic situation, and the merits and flaws of their decisions. For that reason, we move that the findings of the Conference be rendered void, and Phylydion assistance be implemented in aid to the Arliacian Nation.

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

Communiqué
From: Verad, Salrilian Auspex
To: Phylydion High Octicate

The decisions reached by the Arliacian Conference were neither inconclusive nor misguided. Sufficient council was made availible from the Bazidanese to the Arliacian Nation that they could select the assistance best for them. We regrettably deny your call to assist in the situation. Our aid is being prepared as I write, and will be despatched shortly.

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

Communiqué
From: Phylydion High Octicate
To: Verad, Salrilian Auspex

We regret that your decisions force us to take such precipitous action, but you leave us no choice. Our vessels are now entering Arliacian space to secure the Verasi Artifacts against the depredations of the Order of the Golden Dawn.

[This message has been edited by Sundered Angel (edited 12-11-2000).]

Dr. Alice Rogers hated getting contracts for work. Archeology work for a backward outfit like the University of Earth was hard enough to find. The real problem was that half of it was from people seeking not knowledge but advantage. Pirates looking for lost treasure ships, military people looking for ancient superweapons, she had dealt with them all. She'd even once traded fire with some particularly vicious pirates. She felt that if she didn't stop herself, she'd turn into a rogue herself.

So, when the call came in that a foriegn contractor wanted her to work for them, she approached the director's office with a feeling of aprehension. She took her seat, and he was already in his. His face seemed remarkably pleasent. The glow of credits, she thought. That set alarm bells ringing. Only pirate overlords or military kooks would spend that much to find something.

"Greetings, Alice."

"Greetings, sir."

"I hear your group has been in need of funds."

"I suppose a few credits wouldn't hurt us."

"I've got a contract for you from Governor Darkk, of the Nijayias. He wants you to look for some ruins of the 1st Nijayias Empire."

"Darkk? I never thought him for the knowledge-for-the-sake-of-knowledge type."

"I don't know if he is or not. All I know is he's providing a ship, equipment, and our entire UNS buget allotment in fees, plus expenses, plus hazard pay 'as needed'."

"Hazard pay 'as needed'?"

"I couldn't get anything out of him. I guess he think's there's pirates in that area. Look at the ship he gave us - latest in their fleet, hot off the line. Barrage Destroyer Lifarla, named after a former Empress."

Well, "What could go wrong?", Alice thought. "I'll take it."

------------------
*Error: target is violating the laws of physics*
*Error: target is locally exceeding c*
*Error: unable to determine if target exists or not*
*Error: target cannot be hit*

Tæskor Myrmidus darted down the hallway of the shattered base in terror with all the amazing speed his Phylydion-trined body would pump out, the shadow creatures pursuing with a ferocity and hunger unseen.

In the weeks following their arrival, the Shadow Aliens had attacked and destroyed the Elejeetian Colony, infesting the planet with their ever-growing swarms. Myrmidus ahd landed on the planet merely a few hours ago, but it felt like years from the sheer terror.

Images from his worst childhood nightmares seemed to come true in the worst ways possible. Blood! Death! All around him! All alone! Hopeless! Swirling terror! He tossed his knife at the shadow creature and for a moment there was a relief from the terror as it evaporated in death. These creatures sure had a funny way of dying.

Several more lept from a ledge where an entire squadron of freshly-slain Elejeetian corpses lay. He juggled his blades in the air, distracting the nightmares witht heir glint. Suddenly his right arm shot forward and several of the blades darted out, finding their targets. He continued to flee in terror as the creatures pursued nightmarishly.

Nearly there! He could see his ship floating in midair with it's hatch lowered, ready for him to leap aboard. He bounced off the wall and summersaulted onto the ramp. It immediately closed and the ship started it's programmed ascent.

Several of the creatures lept onto the hull with their powerfull legs, and proceeded to chew away at the metal with the worst things imaginable. The force-field generators flashed and all the creatures fell off surely to plummet to their deaths half a mile below. Myrmidus watched in horror, however, when after impact, they got up and continued to move, sprinting accross the burning fields.

* * * * *

As Myrmidus' ship began leaving orbit, he could see the massive Elejeetian vessels that had entered the system head for the planet, bombarding it with the intent of exterminating the aliens. As the planet was gradually reduced to a charred lifeless rock, Myrmidus' intercepter managed to escape the system unnoticed.

Tæskor Myrmidus stirred. The horrifying experience had left him emotionally scarred, evern for a Grand Tæskor. The Dominus Military Council would find his report to be bordering on insanity. He had experienced an uncontained terror of indescribable levels.

He watched the planet devastated, and drew some comfort from it, but he knew the threat had advanced too far to be merely contained now. They would be back. He knew it.