Ambrosia Software Web Board: Chapter One - A new beginning - Ambrosia Software Web Board

Captain Jerry "Slug" Levt sighed. He hadn't seen his home city in nearly fifty years. The breeze brought the smell of wet dirt to his nose and he sniffed appreciativly. It sure beat the hell out of the cold, sterile air aboard the Ishiman Ships he spent nearly two months flying. But that was all over.

Earth had just been liberated not a week ago. The UNS was all but abandoned by the Ishimans and left to fend for itself against the infuriated forces of Cantharis which still roamed mindlessly across the UNS boarder.

He sighed. No parties, no parades, just the prospect of a harder and even colder war loomed ahead.

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If our military is so much better than theirs, then why don't we ever use it?

Mek Des, newly appointed as both Cantharan Chief Military Staregist and Som of Tay Ros had been inside his quarters mulling over a number of things for far too much time within the past month. For nearly two decades he had been living in his father's shadow as his aprentice and protegé, and for nearly two decades he had considered himself superior to him in every way.

Nearly every official who crossed his path would have agreed that he was the rightful candidate for Chief Military Strategist, but Cantharan society carries with it certain rules, among them the rule that nearly every position of authority was a lifetime term, and the rule that all positions get handed down through the family. And thus for nearly two decades Mek Des (who had earned the nickname of the Menaethean god of the tribunal, Sargatanus) could hardly wait for that day a little over a month ago. Yet when the day arrived that the legendary Admiral Mek Het was finally struck down, Mek Des couldn't help but feela little disenchanted with his newfound authority.

That was simply the most nagging of issues. The bulk of the mulling was over the fact that before he could even get settled into his new position and make some effective moves, one of the Orders most productive clients not only revolts, but manages to persuade the Ishimans into a war against them. The icing on the cake was that the Order had not been defeated (in fact they had barely noticable losses, figuratively speaking), but they had lost their gateship which left them unable to do anything but keep the small human forces at bay with border patrols using system to system jump gates which may or may not function.

The clock appears on the wall and sounds the alert that signaled that it was time to present his report to High Council.

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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.

MS98435, a repair droid made by Mag Steelglass Droid Industries, began working on the ship's engine with a fusion torch. The Ishiman fighter's pilot wanted it spaceworthy by the morning.

"How could he expect such a thing from ONE droid?!?" Mag said to himself. The fighter had just been in a long dogfight with some pirate ships, and had gotten pretty beaten up. "At least he gave me a half-decent set of tools this time." He enjoyed complaining as he worked. It gave him a sense of superiority and futility at the same time. He liked paradoxes.

"Hey, Mag, how're the repairs going?" asked Ortinus, the squadron's leader.

"It MIGHT be done by the morning, but no promises."

"Well, knowing you, that means it'll be done in a few hours. Well, see you tomorrow, Mag, I need to get some sleep."

"See you in the morning, Ortinus." Ortinus walked into the main building. Mag turned back to his work.

------------------
"Oi, oi, oi, me got a hurt n here
Oi, oi, oi, me smell a ting is near
Me gonna bosh and me gonna nosh
An da hurt'll dissapear"

Trey'sh Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr stood on the command deck of the ISN 0910169, his designated command vessel until Earth was firmly reestablished. Three heavy cruisers pulled out of the collapsing jumpstream and formed up with the slow, lumbering carrier. The carrier cruised steadily towards the tiny blue globe suspended in the distance. Two human cruisers joined the carrier, welcoming the new liason to Earth. Wizr considered the task that lay ahead of him.

Pitiful. I have served this protectorate for 873 years. I have brought dozens of races from the brink of destruction to interstellar power. I see here a race with potential. With inbred tenacity, an indomidable will, mental capability and physical prowess. With the proper guidance, they could rise to tremendous heights. I go before the comitee and ask for their support, to let me help this race, and what do they send? A carrier and three cruisers. I cannot work miracles. I must secure more funding. The Protectorate has it, I must now convince them to spend it on a worthy cause. In the mean time, we must secure the jumpgates along the Cantharaan fronteir. It would not do for the Humans efforts to have been in vain. Also, we must pacify the Salrillians, they were not pleased with our defiance of the Oracular Net.

Wizr sighed. he turned to the officer of the watch
"how long to till we arrive in orbit?"

"Seventy-two hours, Trey'sh"

"I will be in my chambers. Contact me when we enter orbit."

"aye."

Wizr took the lift back to the Ambassadorial quarters, and continued pageing through the thousands of pages of Human records that had been recovered from the Ares.

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Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee.

The Obish Escort Starbeam sailed through hyperspace towards it's new assignment: the small colony of Ob-Ka. Ob-Ka had a population of about four million at this point, meaning that this was a minor assignment at best.

Subcommander g'Var "8 Lightnings" Krai'un didn't care. Border worlds like this one were often subject to pirate attack, and attack meant action, and action meant promotion. As a subcommander, his own ship was his dream.

Ob-Ka had a relatively small defence fleet: three battleships, two gunships, and now four escorts. The ship dropped quickly into the system. They soon received a message from the High Commander of the defence fleet: First mission: Traffic control.

Now that was boring...

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Subcommander g'Var "8 Lightnings" Krai'un

Second in command of the Escort Starbeam.

"CRUISER DESTROYED. 91 remaining" -Ares, chapter 9, Hand Over Fist

[This message has been edited by 8 Lightnings (edited 12-26-2000).]

Captain Slug Levt eyed the single object on the viewscreen. "Think they can see us?"

His science officer turned to him "of course they've seen us. They're ignoring us because they don't consider us a threat."

"Nor do I wish them to. What is it's heading?"

"S-sir, it's headed for Sol."

"This is the third one this week."

At that moment Slug's second-in-command entered the bridge. The doors snapped shut behind him. "Allo allo allo, what have we got here?"

Slug turned to his number one. "Another Audemedon Transport about to violate interstellar treaty."

"Has it crossed the border yet?"

"Not yet, but the moment it does I want you to disable it and tow it back to the jumpgate."

"Disable it sir?"

Slug turned with a glint in his eye. "Do not destroy it. There might me escorts in the area."

"Aye sir. Chargin' the EMP turrets...."

Slug turned back to face the viewscreen. He saw the magnificent carrier which stretched out before him. The EMP turrets rose out of their protective sub-hull bunkers and began to chage, tracking the transport.

"Keep a track on the Transport, gunner."

"Aye sir.... it's fast approaching."

"ETA"

"Three...two...one... the transport has violated the neutral zone."

Slug's brow furrowed. "Fire."

- - - - -

A series of blue flashes lanced out from the Chimaera. The transport was reduced to a lifeless yet perfectly intact shell.

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If our military is so much better than theirs, then why don't we ever use it?

[I think Slug watches too much Star Trek ]
[And reads too much Timothy Zahn Star Wars as well.]

A pair of freighters came out of the Galactic North jumpgate. The Starbeam was beside them in no time.

The freighters were huge; bigger than bulk freighter-class, more like superfreighters. What were they doing here?

As it was late, Subcommander 8 Lightnings was on duty. Traffic control. How exciting.

The captains knew the sequence, transmitting first their Obish landing passes, then their requested landing point, (or in this case, orbit slot and drop point), and finally their shipping permit and cargo list.

They were planning to land at 256 by 139. That was what set 8 Lightnings' suspicions running. It was in a class A landing zone. Special clearance only.

He ordered a scanner officer to begin a level 1 scan of their cargo bays. Meanwhile he informed them that they had only a class C landing pass, and therefore could not land in the area specified. He began to try and negotiate a compromise in landing area.

Finally the results of the scan came through. It appeared to match the manifest, unless looked at very closely. There were telltale signs that showed dampening fields, and they were in this scan. Scanning the emitter gave them the frequency, and finally a last scan showed that whatever the cargo was, these ships were not carrying standard cargo.

That was it. "Yellow alert!" called 8. "Wake the captain and signal the rest of the fleet! Put Amber Customs on those ships!"

The freighters lumbered into the system, dwarfing even the majestic battleships.


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Subcommander g'Var "8 Lightnings" Krai'un
Second in command of the Escort Starbeam.
"CRUISER DESTROYED. 91 remaining" -Ares, chapter 9, Hand Over Fist

[This message has been edited by 8 Lightnings (edited 12-26-2000).]

The Wild Karrde, a modified Heavy Cruiser, hovered motionless, 20 meters away from the salrillian transport they had been following for the past hour.
"How're the modifications doing, lietenant?"
"They're holding up fine. Target is not changing bearing, still heading for the station."
Both ships were cloaked.
"Engage engines. How long until the station detects us?"
"Around 2 minutes, Captain."
"I'll be blowed if we give up our advantage. Decloak and fire!"
Nanoseconds later, Onas pulses lanced out towards the transport. The glistening hull of the transport glowed red for a moment, then desintegrated in a gigantic fireball.
"Cloak and disengage!"
The engines of the cruiser flared for a second, then were lost to sight as the Superlight engines engaged. The Salrillians would not be pleased.


------------------
"Sergeant, you can't fire that in here! We're indoors!"
"Only until I pull the trigger, Captain!" -Terry Pratchett

Three Escorts floated in formation behind the still-moving Superfreighters. They had already transmitted the order to stop three times, and this would be the smugglers' last warning.

"This is Commander Thrk of the Escort Starbeam. This is your final warning. Come to a halt and lower your shields or we will open fire."

8 sat beside his Commander. He, as Subcommander, was responsible for running the inside of the ship while the Commander piloted. He checked everything, and all lights were green. They were as ready for combat as they would get.

For all that helped.

"Gunners, target the engine areas. Surgical strikes; aim to disable." ordered the Commander.

The three Escorts opened fire, the other ships on their way. The battleships were cutting off the jumpgates. For now, nothing came in or out. Hyperspace would still work, but they wouldn't be here in time without being detected.

As the pulses sped towards the freighters, the smuggler ships themselves broke up into groups of smaller ships, cruiser to fighter class. A few of them were caught by the incoming core pulses and photokinetic beams, but most sped in towards the inner system, and Ob-Ka.

Ob-Ka, which had no extraplanetary defences. A gunship sped to intercept, but got off only a few shots before being caught by a barrage of fusion pulses. The other gunship and the last escort were still over the other side of the system.

The three escorts including Starbeam sped after the small fleet...


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Subcommander g'Var "8 Lightnings" Krai'un
Second in command of the Escort Starbeam.
"CRUISER DESTROYED. 91 remaining" -Ares, chapter 9, Hand Over Fist

Mag Steelglass went to the edge of the docking bay, just as Ortinus walked out of the main building.

"Hey Mag, how're the ships?"

"They are running at standards, sir."

"Very good. Go recharge, we might need you in a few hours."

"Sir?"

"A pirate convoy is heading on a course that will bring it near here. HQ will most likely have us intercept it."

"Again, sir?!? This squadron is way overworked. These ships are rarely in as good condition as they are now. How do they expect us-"

He was cut off by Ortinus.

"We do what we have to do. We aren't a ragtag militia that can do whatever we want. We're in the navy."

"Yes, sir. I will see you again in a few hours, sir." Mag walked off to the main building to recharge.

------------------
"Oi, oi, oi, me got a hurt n here
Oi, oi, oi, me smell a ting is near
Me gonna bosh and me gonna nosh
An da hurt'll dissapear"

8 Lightnings hissed as he watch another one of his escorts spiral in flame and burst open to the vacuum of space. He felt the anger boiling up within him when his concentration suddenly broke. "Sir! We're detecting another object in the jumpstream!"

"Is it big?"

"Sir, it's huge! 4.7 million tonnes!"

4.7.... where had 8 Lightnings heard that number before.... Then he remembered. "It's a Terran Carrier."

"What would the UNS be interested in here?"

"I don't know, but we could sure use their help. Let them in."

The jumpgate flashed and out popped the two-mile-long Chimaera...

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If our military is so much better than theirs, then why don't we ever use it?

The Ishiman battlegroup entered orbit. The Trey'sh disembarked onto one of the heavy cruisers, and was flown to a landing site on Earth. Kennedy Space Port. One hundred and fifty years ago, the parts of the Apollo had been launched from here to be assembled in orbit. There were a few thousand people in the crowd as the cruiser settled onto the blacktop.

Wizr climbed down the steps onto the redcarpet that had been laid out. He smiled and waved, according to all the customs he had read about. He shook hands with the head of the former UNS resistance, and several other representatives from the fledgeling government. They walked to the mission control buildings that had miraculously survived the occupation, and entered one of the larger conference rooms.

a dozen people sat around the table, with thirty others sitting or standing, not important enough to sit at the table, but necessary nonetheless. The head of the resistance started, introduceing himself and the high ranking military figures who had been part of the resistance. Next the captain of the UNS ares introduced himself and his cadre of crewmwmbers. Finally, it was Wizr's turn to speak. He cleared his throught and began his presentation.

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Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee.

Darkk examined his fleet. 3 of the Tarantula carriers, and his HVD had been brought for this raid. Raiding the Eleejeetians was dangerous, but they had little in the way of military forces and thus had a very large average response time.

The freighter, on the other hand, would never know what hit it. According to the shipping company's database, it was carrying fusion powerplants, one of the many things the Darkklight Entrepenurial Federation (Darkk was too proud to use the word "Pirate") needed. Thus this large group of his ships had traveled through rarely-used jumpgates on forged authorizations to wait in this shipping lane.

The lane was rarely used, as the Eleejeetian Power Reactor Corporation prefered large shipments occasionally, and its factory world (admittedly rather important to the Eleejeetians) was the only thing on the other end. Darkk snickered at the innocence that allowed a ship this important to go unescorted. The jumpgate opened, and it was showtime.

The carriers superlighted in and opened with their banks of turreted very rapid photokinetic beams and concussion missles on the Eleejeetian superfreighter. At 5000 shields, it took awhile, Darkk having to have Wind of Blades help with its photopulse and magnetopulses. The carriers didn't launch fighters to help out, they might have to leave at a moment's notice and Darkk didn't want to just leave anyone behind.

The freighter was disabled, and its cries for help jammed with a helpful tool Darkk had created called "destructive interferance transmission cancelation" that meant no signal or noise escaped the area to be heard by the boarder patrols. Unfortunatly, the boarder patrols weren't waiting for cries for help to interfere with Darkk - one of the rare and dangerous Eleejeetian cruisers was closing at a rather uncomfortably high speed.

[I fixed it. Some moderater should probably delete the pair of posts below.]

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William Darkk, head of the Darkklight Entrepenurial Federation
Your cargo or your life!!!

[This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 12-26-2000).]

[I said no superweapons, Darkk. Perhaps that was not clear to you]

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If our military is so much better than theirs, then why don't we ever use it?

[This message has been edited by Slug (edited 12-26-2000).]

[What superweapons? I'm using upgraded standard weapons. The SRMs are wimpy concussion missles on turrets, and the railguns are just long-ranged versions of the standard version (maneto pulses and concussion guns). The jamming gear isn't anything "super", just a little trick. Maybe we should have a little talk.]

[That's no trick, Darkk. If humans approximately 200 years before the RPG had that mastered, it's old technology... ]

The squadron was watching the holovid, reading the diagnostics of the pirate group as their last raid was being shown. It was a trio of cruisers. One Ishiman, one Salrillian, and one Gaitori. Of course, they were modified, so the sqadron had to check the readouts and program the ships into the simulators.

"Look at that!" exclaimed Irtom, the squadron's mechanic, as the Ishiman cruiser opened up with lepton cannons on a poorly defended Gaitori transport in the free trade zone. The lepton beams appeared to be the only weapons on that one.

The other two cruisers on the display began fighting with the three gunships that were there to protect the transport, and a pair of Bazidaneze cruisers dropped in to ambush the Ishiman cruiser.

Mag began watching the Gaitori and Salrillian cruisers fighting the gunships. The Gaitori one seemed to be armed with three concussion missile launchers with a large store of ammunition. Two of the gunships got destroyed by it, and it began firing at the Bazidaneze cruisers, one of which was being chased away by the Ishiman cruiser.

The Salrillian cruiser took out the last gunship with an unrapid chronon particle gun.

The three ships ganged up on the last cruiser, and the fight was soon over. They boarded the transport, and soon left.

The squadron's programmer began puting the pirate cruisers into the simulators.

------------------
"Oi, oi, oi, me got a hurt n here
Oi, oi, oi, me smell a ting is near
Me gonna bosh and me gonna nosh
An da hurt'll dissapear"

[This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 12-26-2000).]

8 Lightnings surveyed the situation. Two of the Escorts were gone, as were both Gunships. The Chimaera was on it's way towards them at superlight speeds, but 8 wasn't sure how long the Starbeam and the other Escort could last.

He was about to advise the commander to pull back and meet up with the Chimaera when he noticed something. One of the battleships had pulled away from it's jumpgate and was heading towards them!

8 checked with the commander, then got on the comm. "Starbeam to Victory. Why have you left the jumpgate? We can't afford to let them get reinforcements in!"

The reply came back just as 8 realized what the battleship commander had done. The jumpgate had been partially disassembled! Nothing would get through it now!

The battleship was heading to rendezvous with the escorts. Still, 8 was worried. He was sure that neither the battleship nor the Chimaera could get to the front of the convoy of pirates in time to stop the transports from reaching the planet.

"Commander, we must move to the head of that convoy. If we don't, their ships will get to the planet and all will be lost. There are only 100 military troops on that planet; the rest are all civilians!"

"Negative, Subcommander. I won't risk the ship."

"You'd carefully save the lives of thirty-five Obiards when the lives of four MILLION are at stake?"

"We can't risk this ship. It could be our only chance."

8 looked at the displays. ETA of Chimaera to front of convoy: 28 minutes. Battleship to front of convoy: 24 minutes. Convoy to planet: 18 minutes. Starbeam to front of convoy: 12 minutes.

"Sir, it already is the last chance. If we don't move now they'll reach the planet. They'll be there in just 18 minutes. We can meet them in 12 minutes. The least we can do it try!"

"I'll see you in my ready room when this is over, Subcommander."

But 8 knew it already was over. Damn...

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Subcommander g'Var "8 Lightnings" Krai'un
Second in command of the Escort Starbeam.
"CRUISER DESTROYED. 91 remaining" -Ares, chapter 9, Hand Over Fist

"As you probably know, I represent the reestablishment comitee of the Ishiman Protectorate. I suppose it is obvious by now that I am not an Ishiman, but I have been in the service of the protectorate for more than eight hundred Earth years. I remember voting for the motion to send a warning to Earth. I have represented the Ishimans to hundreds of races across the known galaxy, but I would like to say that the situation you have found yourselves in is quite unlike that of any race I have represented. You must understand that the invasion you undertook is quite unlike any campaign the Ishiman Protectorate has tried before. The freedom fighters from the UNS Ares have liberated billions of cubic light years of space from the Cantharaan Federation, the Prophets of Salril or the Gaitori Combine. The blow that you struck to the Cantharaans will take decades to repair. With UNS forces in control of all local jumpgates, the Cantharaan Navy is limited to Hyperspace travel, which is far to slow to be used to mount an invasion. The Prophets however, are a far greater adversary.

The Salrillian Navy is by no means massive, they have fewer than two hundred carriers compared to more than a thousand Ishiman vessels of a similar class. That, however, is no reason to dismiss them. The Prophets' vessels are far superior to those of almost any race, with the exception of the Audemedons and the Elejeetians. The Audemedon Axis, as you know, were subjugated by the Prophets even before I was born, and their ships are extremely powerful, if limited in numbers. Thankfully, the Elejeetians, magnanimous as always, were very impressed with your valiant fight for liberation, and would more than likely come to our aid if we were ever openly threatened by the Prophets. However, open aggression is not common amoungst the Salrillians.

The prophets of Salril have survived for millenia by manipulating and subjugating other races through very devious propaganda and trickery, and their manipulation of the Oracular net makes them very effective at arriving at their desired outcome. They use the Audemedon, the Gaitori and the Cantharaans as tools in this manipulation of what they believe to be the divine fate of the galaxy. I would not be surprised if the Salrillians have devised some use for Humanity, even at this early stage.

I cannot stress enough the number of enemies we have made in your venture of liberation. However, we have also forged powerful allies, and weakened the most threatening of our enemies. This newly captured territory will be annexed onto the Ishiman Stellar Protectorate, and, despite resistance from the central legislature, I have established the UNS as a protectorate. While you may see this as a usurpation of your power, and a belittlement of the effort you made towards liberation, I must stress to you that as of now the UNS is near incapable of defending itself. With the financial and military support allowed to a protectorate, I believe that within ten years we can bring the United of Nations of Sol from the ashes into a galactic power. The many liberated Cantharaan worlds have been granted to you by the Protectorate, and are yours to colonize.

Once the United Nations of Sol have rebuilt, and reestablished the infastructure and the government to support and command itself, it will no longer have need for support from the Protectorate, and shall be granted sovreignty. Until that day, you will be granted every particle of resources and technology that should be provided to an Ishiman Protectorate. I understand that this may seem like an insult to your efforts for independance, but it would be far worse for the UNS to fall again, so soon after achieving freedom. Remember, I am here to rid you of the burden of the Protectorate. It is my job to see you become a sucessful sovreign nation. I have done this for dozens of other races, and I will do it for the United Nations of Sol. Thank you."

Wizr sat back in his chair, and waited for the response from the Human representatives.


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Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee.

[This message has been edited by Trey'sh Maletena Wizr (edited 12-27-2000).]

Captain Levt sat back and huffed slightly under his breath. He watched the ticker count down slowly. 20 minutes remaining for interception. The Chimaera wasn't going to make in in time. He sighed.

"Take us out of here, Mr. Mulven." He ordered sorrowfully. "We've seen enough."

"Course, sir?"

"Take us to Earth. I have a meeting to attend."

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If our military is so much better than theirs, then why don't we ever use it?

Admiral Jackson Spann "El Spamo" sat as the Ishiman delegate gave his speech to the gathered members of the UNS governments and military. He himself was invited to the conference by his friend and commander of the First fleet, who was sitting somewhat off to his right. Spamo smiled as the delegate told of the Ishiman hospitality and concern for the fledgling humans. At least SOMEBODY out there thought we were worth more than slave labor though Spamo. As the delegate went on about the remarkable victory of the humans against the Cantharan Order, Spamo's thoughts drifted back to the days of hiding in asteroid belts and making lightning raids against convoys. He had made many friends during the conflict, and lost many more. He himself was scarred both mentally and physically, but came out hardened and prepared for defending humanity from the other hostile races. He turned his attention back to the Ishiman delegate who had begun to speak of another race, the Salrillians. Spamo hadn't had much contact with other races, but he'd heard rumors of the Salrillians, and none of them were heartening.

When the delegate announced that UNS space was to be a Ishiman protectorate, he sat straight up in his chair. He looked over at the rest of the gathered members who wore looks that ranged from relief to indignation. Spamo himself was shocked by the Ishimian boldness. The UNS could protect itself without being a protectorate. However, the Ishiman delegate went on, and Spamo cooled somewhat. The status of protectorate was more of a formality for easy and rapid deployment of Ishimian forces without having to deal with diplomatic permission. But Spamo was sure that the humans would be self-defense capable in less than 10 years. 7 years, tops. As the delegate came to the end of his speech, Spamo smiled. The best chance for strength to humanity was through the Ishimians, and they would make strong and lasting allies. A small alert ponged on his pad before him. A message appeared which he read while the gathered members began to gather a response.

"UNS carrier Chimera has engaged pirate forces attacking Obish colony of Ob-ka. Chimera was unable to assist in time. Return to earth is expected shortly."

Damn, it didn't arrive in time. thought Spamo. That ship had been dispatched from his fleet to assist Obish allies who's colony of Ob-ka seemingly was being attacked by Superfreighters. He had pulled the Chimera from border duty to assist the colony. Apparently it hadn't been able to help, and was now en route back to earth.

Spamo turned his attention back to the meeting, as the UNS members began to respond.

[Whoa. Seems I outrank Slug. Cool. ]
[Don't worry Slug, I'll be a responsible commander.]

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Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito

(the homeworld of the Eleejeetians is Elejee, right?)
The Wild Karrde dropped out of the Jumpstream 120 light-seconds away from Eleejee. It glided slowly towards Eleejee's orbital shipyards, a LRPK beam scar visible on the port engine.

"Eleejee control, please respond. Commander Talon Karrde is reporting. Mission successful. We need to land for repairs. Power is at 50 % and dropping slowly."
"Commander, we have a 'situation' here. A superfreighter has gone missing. It was carrying a 'special' cargo. We deemed it important enough to give it an escort of one of our cruisers. The cruiser is also missing. How long until the Wild Karrde is mission capable?"

"Roger. Heading to docking bay 5. I'll be in the briefing room in 2 hours. Expect my ship mission capable in 2 days. Karrde out."

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"Sergeant, you can't fire that in here! We're indoors!"
"Only until I pull the trigger, Captain!" -Terry Pratchett

Darkk knew even a single Eleejeetian cruiser was trouble. In the Ser system, he'd been commanding the science vessel that had determined the purpose of the object. The captain of the Ares, flying the Eleejeetian cruiser, had demolished the object, the audemedon carrier, and a cruiser and gunship. Fortunatly, Darkk was a better pilot than the Audemedons.

At the first sign of the cruiser, Wind of Blades had entered superlight and popped out right on the cruiser's tail, firing like mad. Darkk squeezed both triggers for weapons the pilot could fire directly, and the turret crews were firing volleys into the cruiser. Eleejeetian cruisers have a great deal of shielding, however, and this one wasn't going down that easy. It turned and fired its Onas pulse, slamming the HVD and its crew around as the Newoo beams made the lights, controls, and other electrical systems flicker in and out.

Darkk wasn't that easy either. He hit the superlight again, bringing Wind of Blades to point blank range. The onas pulses were doing damage, but the magnetos and photopulses were doing slightly more to a ship that had already taken damage. In seconds its shields failed. Darkk, however, wasn't shooting to kill. A Tarantula had been dispatched to board the foolhardy Eleejeetian ship. Darkk knew that Eleejeetian ships' computers go into "help me mode" when the ship is crippled, and lower many security procedures to allow friendly ships to help them faster. This time, however, it allowed Darkk to lock out all self-destruction devices.

The other Tarantulas had clamped onto the sides of the freighter with their foreward capture/docking apparatii, and were pumping in stun gas in quantites and concentrations usually reserved for zoological expeditions trying to subdue violent creatures the size of large dinosaurs. The boarding EVATs began hauling as many of the large fusion powerplants back as they could before and more of the highly dangerous Eleejeetian ships arrived.

Darkk opened a channel to the Eleejeetian commander to demand their surrender. He reflected as he did so that he didn't look nearly piratical enough. He'd have to get a more rakish hat sometime.

"You may have taken out this ship, but it's only one, and soon half our forces will be here!" the Eleejeetian captain shouted.
"I would think I've already defeated half your forces. You Eleejeetians have the least ships of any galactic empire I've ever faced. Besides, I've got a piggyback tap into the local fleet order transfer computer, and the ETA for anything bigger than a fighter is almost 45 minutes. Your tiny navy is very nice, though. I'm going to take that little ship of yours." Darkk replied.
"Oh, no you aren't. You may have disabled my self destruct, but you haven't taken me yet!"

With that remark, the ship engaged superlight. Darkk was kicking himself - he'd failed to damage the superlight engines, unlike the realspace engines and weapondry, to the point they couldn't perform a quick field repair. Oh well, they'd got a great haul of other stuff. The minutes drained away, and then the carriers disengaged their clamps, and sped through a jumpgate to safety just as 5 Eleejeetian cruisers came through another one.

A check of the jumpgate's logs showed they had been cleared completely, leaving no indication where the stream's destination had been.

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William Darkk, head of the Darkklight Entrepenurial Federation
Your cargo or your life!!!

[Spamo, how can you outrank the captain of a ship who's name you can't even spell? ]

The Chimaera rumbled as it passed through the slipstream, finally emerging on top of the gigantic Gateship the Ishimans had brought to Sol. The Gateship lurched and seveal o it's systems overloaded slightly. It had been designed to move the small, compact Ishiman vessels, not the huge boxy UNS Carrier.

Slug eyed those huge arcs of the Gateship with distrust. He found Ishiman arcitechture most annoying. Everything was always safe, rounded, never a corner to bump a knee on or a gap to twist an ankle in. He applied extra power to get away from the hulk.

"Ensign, prepare my shuttle for departure."

"Aye Sir."

- - - - -

Slug walked down the shuttle's ramp onto the soft clay. He was in the abandoned ruins of a once legendary pre-occupation city. San Fransisco. Most of the landmarks, mostly bridges and towers, had been disassembled to build Cantharan warships. He kicked a flake of green sheet metal out of his way and made for the main building.

A low-lying mist overed the charred and ruined ground. The sky was black with thunderous clouds. Apart from the roaring ocean, a whistling of the slicing wind through the tangled mass of the Golden Gate Bridge, and the occasional rat scurrying, the entire city was dead silent. Almost there

Slug walked up to the shattered dome, once a Cantharan slave mine, and entered. A set of steps led into alining shaft. It was pitch black, and save for the dripping of water slowly flooding the cave, was dead silent. Levt stopped. "What do you want?" he said aloud. It echoed several times, then fell to silence. For a moment, there was complete silence, then a sound.

A match sparked to life, casting a halo of light around the cave and blinding Slug, who's eyes had coma accustomed to the dark. A gruff voice filed the cavern.

"Is it done?"

Slug winced at the voice. "Yes. The Ishimans are going to annex the UNS as part of their protectorate-"

"You must not let it happen" The voice cut him off.

"What?" Slug was astounded. "They will bring us peace after centuris of-"

"You must not let them, Captain Levt."

"Why?"

"Trust me, Captain."

"The Cantharans (and their stealth fields) taught me not to trust what I cannot see."

A Salrilian figure slid into the light, looking at Levt with remorse. "Captain Levt, you must organize a resistance. We have forseen it." At which point the match died out and the cavern fell silent again.

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If our military is so much better than theirs, then why don't we ever use it?

[This message has been edited by Slug (edited 12-27-2000).]

"The three pirate cruisers are getting near our outpost, and should be arriving within the hour. Remember to be careful of those weapons. These are not your average pirates. Very few get the money to be this powerful.

We requested assistance from the nearest outpost, and they're sending a pair of heavy cruisers along to help. Even with the heavy cruisers with us, we still have to fly well." said Ortinus.

"Sir, are you sure a big clumsy cruiser is going to be much of a threat to us? I mean, our fighters are faster and more maneuverable. We ca-" said Norp, the squadron's supply officer, but he was cut off by Ortinus.

"Remember, lieutenant, that cruisers are not much less maneuverable, even if they are much larger targets. And these cruisers have upgraded shield generators. Our entire squadron combined doesn't have as much shielding as one of these cruisers. That is why we're getting support from the nearest outpost to here. Any more questions on that subject?" he asked.

"Good. Now I'll go over our plan. 30 minutes from now, we will launch from base, and make our way out into the asteroid belt. We will follow near specially chosen asteroids there, and wait until the three cruisers come into the system. We think that they are attempting to access some storage devices that the squadron's cargo ship detected and retrieved yesterday, so we will be near where those were drifting.

When the pirates enter the system, we will wait near where the storage containers were found until they come close. When they do, we will suddenly come out from near our asteroids and head towards them at full throttle.

The two heavy cruisers will be waiting elsewhere in the belt, and will use their superlight boosters to come as soon as we give the signal. We will then disable the pirate cruisers, and our cargo ship will come to apprehend the crew and to tow back to base any of our ships that are too damaged to come back on their own. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" the squadron said in unison. They went to their vessels, and Mag began the final systems checks...

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"Oi, oi, oi, me got a hurt n here
Oi, oi, oi, me smell a ting is near
Me gonna bosh and me gonna nosh
An da hurt'll dissapear"

As he walked out of the meeting, the first of many, Vaenar felt relieved. He had feared that the UNS would outright refuse aid. Thankfully, all but the most stubborn commanders had been able to swallow their pride and accept the Ishiman aid, at least for the moment. Of course, there were many unresolved issues. In a few hours, he would be meeting with the commanders of the UNS fleets, after that, he would meet the heads of the Earth reconstruction effort, then the colonization department, then, finally, he would attend the drafting of the new UNS constitution. Quite a day. Thankfully, he was used to a seventy seven hour day from his last assignment. It would take a while to readjust his sleep cycle, but for now, it would be useful not to need the rest.

He checked his mail. Thirty messages. Most were current events briefs. The goings on of a tremendous Galactic community. Only three of the classified intelligence briefs seemed relevant. Human Pirates engageing Elejeetian transports, UNS lending aid to Obiard colonies under attack, and continueing Audemedon violations of the recently established fronteir.

The second was heartening. The Ishimans and the Obiards were used to working together closely, and if the UNS took an active part in the alliance, it would only strengthen the bond. The First and the third, were less encourageing. If the Elejeetians began to feel that the Humans were being ungrateful for their aid, it would mean big trouble for the UNS. The persistent Audemedon incursions were worrying. If they persisted after a formal declaration of greivance from the Protectorate, they would be considered acts of war. Wizr smiled. It is doubtful that the Prophets would be stupid enough to goad the Ishiman Protectorate into war. Even with the Audemedons behind them, the Ishiman Navy outnumbered the Sals three to one. Throw in the Elejeetians and the Obiards, and any advantage that their ships might have had would be out the window. They could not possibly be so foolish. There must be another reason for the incursions.

Regardless of their motives, he would file his grievance with the central legislature. It would be signed, ratified and sent in hours. He would also request several teams of civil and military engineering consultants, as well as as much supplies as he could ship through his gateship in the five days that he had it. On Tuesday, it was tasked out to another part of the Protectorate, and another would not be available for several weeks. He needed to establish a Jumpgate of Ishiman standards soon, the UNS gates were far too short ranged to reach the core of the Protectorate.

He also sent a requisition for the mobilization of several more carriers to be donated to the UNS Navy. He was not sure what to expect. The Ishimans were often reluctant to ouright give away ships to newly founded protectorates, but the Humans had proven their ability already, and the comitee would usually pounce on a chance to avoid risking Ishiman lives for defence. Either way, he would need to free up his delegation's vessel for use by the UNS. He called his aides and ordered them to take a shuttle down and establish themselves in the "Embassy" building that had been given to him. The Ishiman carrier would be a welcome token of his good will, and might convince the more stubborn Humans to consider Ishiman aid. As the last of the admirals and generals trickled in to the conference room, he ordered his aid to draft an apology to the Elejeetians for him.

The Trey'sh prepared to take extensive notes on the briefing he was about to recieve. The strategic position of the UNS military was very important. Finally, the two high fleet commanders, Admiral Spann, and Admiral Levt, sitting in the middle of the table, called the meeting to order.

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Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee.