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Shields down to 70%, Piemur was running out of options. a squad of Falcon interceptors were pounding on Cargo Ship #4 and several Invasion-class shuttles were coming along to take it, as soon as the 3 gunner stations were taken down and shields were offline. Piemur tried to shield it as much as possible, and was doing the best he could for evading the pirates.
Grudgingly, he said "Release the onboard cargo pods and prepare for evasive manuevers, but charge up the shield batteries to maximum." The shields on the pods would prevent the enemy ships from taking them down or destroying them, and had a deterrent for tractor beams. However, they drained the high capacity batteries in a matter of hours. He needed to finish this quickly.
"Helm, 30 degrees starboard, 90 degree roll, cargo 4: head toward bearing 243,19...flank, cargo 1: head toward 247, 19 on an intercept course to shield cargo 4 as much as possible. cargos 2,3, and 5, go to bearing 117, 351 flank and head to the station, avoid the thickest fighting if possible and use the asteroids as cover. Over. Hope the station still has some gunners available. Calling mining station #1345 Epsilon, Piemur of the SA.SC.Pern-3 is requesting some assistance for three of my cargo ships I'm sending your way, if there are anymore ships left willing to do some escort duty, please respond now."
...silence...
"Err...mining station Epsilon? Do you read?"
...static...then a faint voice "....silon reads you, the...roids are blocking...transmission, many sat...ite relays have been destroyed...but yes, we do have some...mercenaries...willing to do...cort duty...they say that...10,000 credits per ship..."
"Okay, what are their specifications? I repeat...What are their specifications?"
...static..."...4 corsair class...unboats...10...enger class fighters, and...torpedo frigates..."
"Repeat for the frigates...and tell them that it is reasonable...repeat is reasonable."
..."copy that...2...gates...be there shortly..."...more static...then an ominous silence...
"Gunners, concentrate fire on the Stalker over there and give me a solution for 5 torpedoes...I KNOW that it is unreasonable, but better be safe than sorry."
Afterwards, the torpedoe launcher fired several times, 5 torpedoes sped towards the Stalker, and all of them struck the ship. The Stalker turned from attacking a Torpedo Cruiser, and began chasing them. Without backup, the squad of Avengers suddenly turned tail after several defense platforms opened fire on them. Fighting still raged around the system, but the pirates seemed to be losing ground. Piemur pulled up a readout of the Rift. It seemed to be making a huge swath of destruction and probably accounted for 12% of the pirate losses, with about twenty ships fighting the pirates. Piemur smiled grimly, there were a total of 3 Stalkers...Mag took out 1 of them, and the SA.SC.Pern was annoying 1 more. Now where was the last?
"Sensors, what happened to the last Stalker?"
"It was taken out by a squad of fighters calling themselves "The Dark Elite"...now thats interesting...they are attacking some of the shuttles and capturing them for themselves...hey! they were the ones who were supposed to be escorting our transports!"
"Helm! Change heading to 117, 351 and go to FTL drive...I dont care about possible nose damage, we can repair them, but our ships are in trouble! Pull up as much shields to the front as possible and use the gunners to take out the big asteroids in front that we can't avoid. We've got to save them! Can we get a channel to the Rift?"
"No, sir, it appears that their communications are down."
"Is there any way we can get a message to them?"
"I believe they have one droid on board, and if we can get the message to the droid, and have it repeat the message to the crew, I think it could work, although it'd take longer for their captain to receive the message." "Do it. Send the following message: Begin. 'Calling Mag Steelglass of the Rift! Your ship can get to our transports quickly...please head to 117, 351 and take out the squad called the "Dark Elite". They've probably hit our transports and taken them over...if possible, please engage! I will repay you for your efforts!' End. Helm! Get going already!"
A tear appeared in Piemur's eye "...all of that profit...gone..."

------------------
"At ----- , bullcrap is our most important product"
-graffiti on the lavatory wall of a major consultancy (from The Wizardry Consulted)

[This message has been edited by Piemur1 (edited 06-18-2001).]

Darkk placed the vidcard into the reader and hit "play".

Onscreen, a long slender Vylae ship appeared. A warpship was directly behind it, looking small by comparison. Darkk remebered the specs on the "Negotiator" class bombardment ships. They were over 7km in length. The camera panned, showing a blue and purple planet directly ahead of the Negotiator. As the camera panned around to show an above-front view, a violent humming was heard. The magnetic fields in the Negotiator's cannon were so powerful they produced sound waves inside the recording drone, which were captured duitifly.

Suddenly, both ends of the ship began to glow. Then there was a immense rumble, which shook the camera. The rear of the ship emitted a diffuse backblast, but the front emitted a tightly focused pulse, trailing a distinctive double-cone shockwave. The camera panned to follow the pulse, zooming to show the various defender ships being devestated by the electro-weak shockwave and the side lobes of the blast.

A different camera was selected, and the planet came into focus. The blast shot from the bottom of the screen and hit the planet - which cracked and began to change color. The blast was equivilent to a small moon hitting the planet.

Darkk stoped the replay, and took out the vidcard. On it was marked "Fleet Admiral Volvox's Hirgon campaign, edited by Ensign Darkk". Darkk had served as a personal assitent to the ledgendary Volvox, a role requiring him to do everything from fetching beveriges and snacks to editing together footage of his battles for his records. Darkk had been prepairing a cup of rird at the time of the shot, and had been impressed by the power of those magnetic oscilations; it was unbelievable they could produce vibration and sound in nearby vessles.

After seeing the footage of the hit, he could very well believe the oscilations were that powerful. That was the first and only time the Vylae DXRC 15 energy shell cannon had been fired in anger - only 3 were built, and when they were used after that, no enemy failed to surrender or self-destruct beforehand.

Darkk placed the vidcard back in its storage slot carefully. This kind of weapondry, in the hands of the piratical Union...

Darkk immediatly began to compose a message to Perneas, the only ESF commander who he knew how to reach. They should know about this. The Union could... could... could do pretty much anything.

------------------
Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

"The northernmost Stalker is within range."
"Can you get a lock on it?"
"We currently have a strong and reliable lock."
"Fire one salvo, and then let's be ready to dodge some ion missiles."
"Aye, sir," said Bug. "Torpedoes launched." Five orange streaks shot away from the Rift and began bearing on one of the Stalkers. The ship was slow, even for a battleship, and even if it cloaked, it wouldn't be able to move far enough to dodge the torpedoes. Neither Stalker fired back. How strange. Perhaps their ion missile launchers had been damaged by asteroids? No, the chances of just their ion missile launchers being damaged and nothing else, and those being on both Stalkers were minimal. The torpedoes hit, making a smouldering crater on the hull.
"Fire another salvo." Five more torpedoes headed for the Stalker, and these, too, hit.
"I don't think they can use their ion missile launchers for some reason, let's head in and pound them one on one."
"Aye, sir," said the pilot, before the ship tore away, and headed towards the nearest Stalker. As the distance between the two ships lessened, the Stalker opened up with its flak artillery cannon. Mag could hear the scraping of the flak against the Rift's armor, but the flak artillery was meant for destroying fighters, and did little to capital vessels. The distance became short enough that the two ships could fire on each other with melee weapons, and they began pouring fire into each other, and soon they each had extensive black streaks and marks on their hulls. The Rift had taken the most beating where the Avengers' rockets had hit. There was an increasingly deep blackened crater there, with some small wisps of smoke coming out.
"How's the ship holding up, engineering?"
"Sir, the ship is still fully functional, but those busts from the ion-enhanced plasma charge turrets is taking a toll on our computers. I don't know how much we'll be able to take before our systems begin malfunctioning. As far as armor goes, we look a lot worse than we feel, except over on the side where those rockets hit. Our armor over there is only about 28 centimeters thick, now. We won't be able to take much punishment over there."
"Acknowledged, engineering. Sensors, how is the Stalker?"
Kathleen, concentrating hard on her computer, replied, "We're hitting it with much more fire than it's been hitting us with, but it's also much tougher. It appears to be taking the most beating near the engines and just behind the bridge."
"Bug, fire only on those areas."
"Complying to orders." The swivel cannons and turrets on the Rift adjusted to aim at the engines, which were nearer than the area directly behind the bridge. Fire once again poured out of the Rift, and this time it was at an already damaged area. The Torpedo Cruiser realigned itself to be facing the engines, and fired a salvo of torpedoes from point-blank range. The Stalker shuddered, and the engines began leaking plasma, which floated out into space. The engines shut off.
"Helm, keep us out of that cloud of plasma!"
"Sir, we can't avoid it. We'll have to just go through as quickly as possible."
"Agreed. Use everything you can, including afterburners, but get us through that cloud as fast as possible." Mag watched as the view screen showed the ever approaching plasma. The helm officer engaged the afterburners, and they shot for it at a good speed. They wouldn't be in it long. Soon, the front of the ship had entered.
"Engineering, lock the engines down, we don't want plasma getting up through our engines and into our fuel tanks!"
"Aye, sir, engines locking down." The engines shut off, and protective armoring locked itself in place over their ends, protecting them. Soon, the entire ship was drifting through the cloud of plasma.
"Engineering, how are we holding up?"
A static began coming over the intercom. "Sir, we're holding up nicely on that side where our armor got heavily thinned, but our communications is startin...break down a...sens...s won't hol...ut much longe......." Static was the only thing they were hearing, now.
"Shut the intercom system off. We'll have to use our personal communications gear to talk, now." The view screen went to static, then flashed brightly for a second before going dark.
Mag took out his phone, and dialed Rob's number.
"Hello?" came Rob's voice after the third ring.
"Hi, it's Mag. We've shut the intercom down, it's not working any more. Look, is there any way for us to tell when we exit the plasma cloud?"
"Well, you could open the bridge viewports, but I wouldn't recommend it. The plasma would blind everyone, and it'd chew through the viewport and get into the bridge before anybody could say 'We're almost out.' I've set up some thermometers at the crater in our armor. I think that we'll be out of the cloud when the temperature stops increasing, but it'll take about a minute for us to be sure."
And so the crew waited. It took about ten minutes before Mag's phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Captain, it's Rob. The thermometers are starting to go down in temperature due to the ship's venting system. We're out of the cloud."
"Thanks, Rob. Now open the engines and the viewports, all right?"
"Aye, sir. Talk with you later." Mag turned the cell phone off and put it back in its drawer. The viewports were opening, and they could see the battle around them. There was much less going on than there had been before. Mag was straining to see the distant dog fights when a massive vessel decloaked in front of the Rift. It was the Stalker they hadn't been fighting with.
"Get us out of here, helm!"
The Rift rolled to have its healthier side facing the battleship and used its afterburners to get moving quickly. Fire poured out of the Stalker, and the already heavily damaged Rift shuddered.
"Sir, look over there!" Kathleen had sharp eyes, and was pointing in the distance. Far off to their right, the Stalker they had origionally engaged was still drifting, but had stopped the plasma leak, was turned to face them, and was firing ion missiles like mad. The missiles were now quickly homing in on the Rift's damaged side. The helm officer rotated to face their healthy side towards the missiles, but then the other Stalker began firing on the damaged side.
Kathleen spoke again. "Sir, I think the Stalker that we already fought with is heavily damaged. If we fired in one more salvo of torpedoes, we could probably disable it."
"Bug, fire the torpedoes."
"Without sensors, sir, we cannot give the torpedoes guidance, unless I manually aim them, and I cannot manually fly each torpedo and use our other weapons at the same time."
"Well, manually guide them, then. Helm, just keep us alive."
"Aye, sir."
Five more torpedoes shot out, and quickly began a broad turn to line up on the damaged Stalker. Bug had moved out to where he could see the torpedoes and the Stalker through the view port, and the helm officer was busy trying to dodge the fire from the nearer Stalker and keep Bug lined up at the same time. Luckily for them, torpedoes were much faster than missiles, so their torpedoes would manage to hit the Stalker shortly before the first missile would reach them. Mag moved over next to Bug to watch the progress of the torpedoes. Getting closer, getting very close, almost there, and then five explosions on the hull of the Stalker. Electrical discharges shot over the Stalker's hull, and it began drifting and was leaking plasma and fire. Shuttles and escape pods launched from it, and headed for the jumpgate. The crew that hadn't gotten to the shuttles or escape pods in time went EV, floating in their space suits as their ruined ship drifted on.
Laughter and cheering went up on the bridge, but abruptly ended when the ion missiles began impacting on their heavily damaged side. There were six missiles, and the first five had missed the crater in their armoring. Now for the sixth. Soon, it was back, past the area where they could see it. Mag held his breath, and felt time slow down. Seconds seemed like hours as they slowly crawled by. One second, and no impact. Two seconds, and they were still fine. Three seconds, and nothing had happened. Perhaps the missile had missed? Four seconds, and an abrupt jarring of the ship. Arcs of electricity flew over the consoles, and then the room went dim except for the light from outside. Instead of what Mag had predicted, the nearby Stalker left them, engaging a small ship that registered as a cruiser that was attacking it. Meanwhile, the Rift lazily rotated around an axis running along the ship. The world outside was spinning.
"Sir, I have activated my infrared vision, and it would appear that engineering still has power and control over the ship. You might want to head down there. Atmosphere is leaking out of the ship, down there, and as doors are being opened and closed, it is leaking from the rest of the ship, too."
"Right. I'm heading down to engineering. If any crew members show up at the bridge, tell them to get suited up. I think you guys should do the same." Mag left the room, and headed to his quarters, where he took his space suit out of its drawer. He got it on, and headed down to engineering, telling all crew members he met on the way to get suited up.
"Hello, Captain," Rob greeted him in engineering. "We've still got some RCS control and engines, but she'll be tricky to fly, since we can't stop spinning."
As Rob went on with his report of what worked and what didn't, Mag began thinking of just how expensive repairs to his ships were going to be.
Five minutes later, Bug showed up in engineering.
"Bug, what are you doing here?"
"This unit has recieved a message destined for Captain Mag Steelglass."
"Give it to me, then."
"Calling Mag Steelglass..."

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"Thou shalt not be a loser."
[url="http://"http://www.MSPlugDevelopment.n3.net"]www.MSPlugDevelopment.n3.net[/url]
Reviews are appreciated.

[This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 12-32-2164).]

[This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 06-16-2001).]

[Mag, don't post a page length essay on the ships in WITV. Piemurl couldn't know, and this is a very flexible RPG. Maybe you could edit everything to fit in more with his storyline? Darkk, can you arrange it so the Vylae know of the Naarad? The naarad basically want to control everything, but can't because they own too much space already and need to make other races voluntarily join them by coercing/and or sponsoring civil wars. This is basically what the whole Union vs ESF thing is about.]

****
It was snowing on Magestic 3.

Captain's Perneas could see that the moment he looked out the frosted window. Snow and hail pelted the landing pad, and nearby station. Inside the shuttle it was warm, yet somehow chilled by the difference in temperature between here, and only a few centimetres away, where it was -10 degrees C.

'The shuttle has landed sir.'

Perneas was sitting next to a fellow captain, and an ensign who had apparently gotten zero-G battle shock in a skirmish between pirates. Perneas didn't know the details, but he despised such men as were frighted by gravity's capricious wiles. The shuttles door opened slowly, and Perneas got out to smell the fresh Magestic air.

'Pure and clean isn't Perneas? Just like I earth a thousand years ago I bet.' Said captain Marselle jovially.

'Yes. Earth is in a deplorable state isn't it?' He answered, his mind wandering.

So this was Magestic 3. Where his grandparents had died. Where so many battles had been fought. Where men were hardened or destroyed. You entered Magestic, not as a man, but a clean sword. And only the heat of battle could determine how you would end up.

He took another breath, then realised he was wearing only his captain's uniform.

'Ha, frost on my nose!' He rubbed his nose, where ice had formed. 'Do the officer's live inside the whole time? Or do we get to wear something a little less revealing?'

'You get a special issue captain's uniform I believe, but ah here's our escort now!' As he said this, Perneas could make out someone walking towards them holding 2 coats. The man approached, and Perneas made out of the face a tall lean man with white hair.

'Marselle, Perneas I am lieutenant Ord Morin. If you'd care to follow me, and put on these coats.' He handed them to both captains with the gravest of airs.

Perneas put on his coat, but shook uncontrollably as this world's incredible cold set in.

*****

'Yes? What do you want?'

Perneas and Marselle were standing in front of Magestic 3's current commander, Prefect Gondor. His harsh face was lighted by the red lights inside the base. Everyone one looked, were display screens and officers moving about like so many ants. Above them 30 metres, was the entrance to the base, heavily guarded by 2 slugthrower emplacements. Perneas had taken the elevator down, and one could see it from here. The entire place seemed to be made of platinum wire, and people still managed to bring in snow.

'You are not needed here. We have a full quota of captain's already.'

Marselle's broke in diplomatically.

'Ah of course commander, but we were sent here by Admiral DuPont himself. I have the official order right here.' He handed the man an envelope. Though disguised as one, it was in fact made so that if anyone but the prefect tore it open, it would disintegrate at once.

'I see. The whole blasted place is teeming with captains at the moment, try to find a room somewhere that's free. I'm not making special allowances, for stray men.' He walked off furiously, to yell at another officer handling some kind of gadget.

'An interesting man.' Commented Perneas.

'Well, I hope to enjoy some synthetic cocoa and relax myself. Let's see about getting some lodgings here.'

He walked off to talk to an officer who was running past him.

'Excuse me... -'

The man pushed Marselles out of his way. The man went over and talked to Gondor for a brief moment. Marselles got up.

'I'll teach that bastard some lessons about rank.'

Gondor grabbed the microphone and announced: 'Attention all ship officers. The Union has made Magestic 3 a target vector for a fleet. This base will be under attack in 24 hours...'

"It is the First Officer's pleasure to inform the Captain that the Commodore's pendant has been struck. All hands are standing by for the jump to Hyperspace. Harrison reports that the Andalusa awaits your order, Sir."

"You may engage when ready."

Pharris turned to the bridge crew.
"Mr. Jackson, please inform Captain Harrison that we engage on my mark. All hands prepare for hyperspace in 3... 2... 1... Mark!"

At the exact same moment his thumb instinctively clicked down on his stopwatch. The ship shook subtly as the RCS thrusters stabilized its location in space. The ship whined, as the fusion reactors charged capacitors to push the ship into Ether. The Xerxes was almost twenty years old, and meticulously maintained though she was, she was always rough achieveing Ether, but once she was through the horizon, she was fast. Pharris sat down on his gravity couch and hit the lock button. He knew his ship inside out, and knew each bump and jolt before it came. A hairline crack in the third stage power coupling made the lights flicker at T-7 seconds. At T-5 seconds, worn conduit relays on two fusion reactors grumbled before shunting power to the stardrive. With a crackle, power was forced through the Stardrive, and with a groan, the old cruiser was away, trailed by the destroyer USS Andalusa.

The two ship in hyperspace were a stark contrast. One was the peak of modern military technology, the nuclear missile destroyer Andalusa was not six months out of the shipyards. Her flagship, by comparaison was an old beast of a vessel. The USS Xerxes was an old Union Cruiser. Nearly fourty years old, she had once been the most powerful ship in the Union Navy. She had been upgraded and overhauled several times since then, but she still could not match the power of the modern Battlecruisers. That was not to say that she was not a force to be reconed with. What the modern battlecruisers had in firepower, and armour, Xerxes made up for in speed and agility. Not that she was by any means nimble, what counted as manouverability in a capital vessel was still terribly sluggish, but the thrust/weight ratio on the Xerxes meant that she could turn and burn around the newer vessels. That more than made up for the reduced numbers of plasma outlets and the lack of the fusion rocket tube. Fortunately, she still had mounts capable of fireing fighter-sized missiles, and large magazines.

What greeted the ECM monitors as the Xerxes and the Andalusa dropped out of Ether was entirely unexpected by the Captain and his XO. Much of the third fleet was already in parking orbits near the supply and fueling station, along with dozens of ships that Pharris knew had been diverted from other fleets. Most imposeing of all were the Battlecruisers that made up the spine of the third fleet. Pharris recognized the Admiral's pennant on his Battlecruiser, which was docked at the station, being refueled and repaired.

"Captain, were you aware that we were to be joining an armada at this stageing area?"

"No, Mr. Pharris, I was not. I most certainly was not. Park us somewhere and prepare my skiff, let's pay Armiral Lockewood a visit. Tell Harrison to stay close, we could lose him in this mess."

"Aye aye, sir."

------------------
NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT
The Hard-Boiled Egg
Why?
Because she cant be beaten!

[Your perfect re-enactment of the Union fleet brought tears to my eyes, Captain Pharris. Since you posted while I was writing our accounts are slightly out of sync. I would like you to write the beginning of the battle, so here's the stats on Magestic 3: Defensive fleet = 12 frigates, 3 light cruisers, 4 carriers, 3 destroyers, 120 fighters.]

A Phylydion Rebel sentry walked slowly down the corridor, his rifle held loosely in his hands. His shift was about over, and he decided to make another sweep of the engineering deck on the small asteroid base before turning in. He walked down the last stretch of corridor and opened the door. When he did, he stumbled back in shock as another guard fell through the doorway. His throat was cut. The guard raised his rifle and jumped back to sound the alarm when a shiny projectile silently cut through the air and lodged itself in his throat.

Silently, Traek Cicion leapt out of cover and retrieved his blade. He hid the bodies and went back into engineering control to finish his work.


As he flew away in the Crimson Tear, he pressed a control on his console that activated the beacon he had installed in Engineering. The ambient radiation in that section of the rebel base would keep them from detecting it until the Vermillion Battlegroup had homed in on the signal and moved in to destroy the base. Engaging his Omnispace drive, he remarked on his long solo mission ahead: To seek out and eliminate any rebels who had infiltrated more populous space.

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-Traek Cicion of the Taeskor
"What sort of man is he?"
"Oh, he's just like any other man, only more so."
-Casablanca

Delta stood on the transporter pad. He activated his wrist communicator.

"Mardyr, are you ready?"

The screen lit up with the reply. Mardyr was usually in Delta's pocket, being a very powerful computer in a very small space... However, right now, he was fulfilling a different purpose.

Delta waited. Finally Mardyr responded again.

*********

The Pfhor corvette hovered over the planet. The captain and four of his senior officers stepped onto the transporter pads.

"Computer, initiate teleport." Said the captain.

Most Pfhor are comfortable in vacuum, but the higher-level officers, not being vacuum-enabled, don't last very long. That was the case as the captain and his officers were teleported to space. In their place on the pad appeared Delta.

Delta picked up Mardyr from the computer console where he had overriden the usual teleport controls.

"Is it done?" he asked.

"Indeed." replied Mardyr in his high-pitched voice.

Shortly afterward, Delta's newly appropriated Corvette soared as far away from Pfhor territory is it possibly could...


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High Commander 8 Lightnings of Tetrik V
Also known as Captain Delta Farron.

could some admin please delete this post?

[This message has been edited by Piemur1 (edited 06-18-2001).]

Pharris waited untill the Captain's skiff was securely aboard before ordering the Officer of the watch to put the ship into position at the jump point. He gave the conn to the Officer of the watch and went to the Captain's ready room to find out what the situation was.

Foster Dulles was giveing the coat of his dress uniform to his aide as Pharris walked in. Though he seemed nervous, he was not worried. He had the look of a child on the night before Christmas.

"What's the news Captain?"

"The news, my dear Mr. Pharris, is that we are going into battle. We engage the Federation fleet at Majestic Three in twenty four hours. A fleet engagement the likes of which has not been seen since the negotiations last September, and we are on the frontlines. Isn't it exciting?"

Pharris' eyes lit up.
"Yes Sir! Shall I call the officers together to discuss plans?"

"No, not yet. First we make the announcement to the crew. We shall run on skeleton shifts until we leave Ether, giveing the others time to rest. Have the mess hall prepare an array of light foods until then. Two hours before we leave Ether, we shall clear the ship for action at a leisurely pace, giveing us time to adress the crew again before we enter the confusion of combat. But first, you and I must reach an agreement on how we intend to follow these battle plans that Lockswood gave me."

Dulles held up a folder labeled "Top Secret: For Eyes Only".

"Well then, lets take a look then, shall we?"

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

In its basic concept, the plan was a good one, but its execution was faulty. Lockswood failed to realize the potential weaknesses of several of the ships, and had placed his four battlecruisers deep inside the fleet, where they could hardly apply the full brunt of their firepower(which was mostly close-range weapons) to any Federation ships. Instead, he had them buried in the center, with the Carriers and Escort Carriers, surrounded by the fighters and corvettes. The ships that would be leading the assault and takeing the first hits would be the missile destroyers, which couldn't stand bombardment for long. Granted, this was only their initial configuration, and he intended to recall them after they expended their Nukes, but that did not change the fact that ideally the fighters and corvettes would be inches ahead of the Battlecruisers at the leading edge of the fleet, keeping the option of a devastating fusion rocket salvo in case things turned sour.

But that harsh diagnosis ingnored the brilliance of the insertion. The ships would come out of Ether Immidiately between Majestic and her third planet. The enemy fighter and Corvette pilots relied on visuals for navigation, the sluggish Union fighters would be diveing out of the glare from the sun, giveing them a much needed advantage. They would have surprise, the largest ships had modern stardrives so they could place themselves exactly on target. The more manouverable ships could find their positions quickly anyway, and old beasts like the Xerxes dropped in on the wings, where they would lead the four pincers that would try to encircle the enemy fleet.

Unfortunately, at this point argument was moot. The fleet was under total radio blackout and hidden by an intense jamming field to hide their true numbers. Hopefully, the ESF wouldn't know exactly what was coming to hit them.

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

"Captain on the bridge!"

the bosun blew his whistle as Pharris and Dulles walked out of the briefing room, onto the bridge of their warship as it sat, poised on the Edge of Ether, ready to drop into the Majestic system.

"T-two minutes till Ether break." The Navigation station reported.

Dulles sat down in his gravity couch, letting it mold itself around him. He picked up his microphone and adressed his crew.

"Gentlemen of the USS Xerxes. This is your Captain speaking. In two minutes, we shall commence the largest spaceborne assault that the Federation has ever had the misfortune to suffer. When we exit Ether, we take the first step in a campaign that will take us to the very heart of the Federation, to our rightful home, to Earth! The third fleet of the Union of Worlds is but the Vanguard of an invasion that will free our homeworld from her Federal captors. What we do here will determine the course of this war! Whether we win or lose is up to you, the men and women of the United Navy! Good luck, and godspeed."

The cheering rang over the warning buzzer as the ship dropped out of Ether, along with the rest of the Union fleet. It took a moment for Navigation to establish their exact location, but that was not critical, as they were not needed for the initial contact. The Xerxes simply drove into position as the Missile destroyers let out a hail of long-ranged nuclear missiles. The ESF fleet was spread out to cover the possible insertion points, but were already rushing to the rallying point when the first corvette dropped out of Ether.

With the Destroyers second salvo waiting in the tubes, the Fleet prepared to enter an intercepting orbit with the ESF ships. The fighters had been released, and were already takeing up positions with their assigned Battlecruisers at the center of the fleet.

The first wave of missiles made contact as the large battlecruisers started their orbital burn. Whatever happened, the fleet was committed to their path. The Battlecruisers would be hard pressed to leave their new orbit while recieveing fire. But that was not what made Pharris feel as though something was wrong.

What he didn't like was that the number of ships massing at the rallying point was much lower than any of the scans had shown. Pharris watched the distant nuclear flashes on the screen as the Xerxes and her escorts spread out to the left of the Union fleet, preparing to encircle the ESF Ships so that the Union could make full use of their numerical advantage.

"ECM, report on the enemy fleet status..."

------------------
NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT
The Hard-Boiled Egg
Why?
Because she cant be beaten!

[This message has been edited by Captain Pharris (edited 06-16-2001).]

[Just in case you wanted to know, Union fleet = 3 Battlecruisers(, 1 Cruiser(the Xerxes), 2 Escort carriers, 1 Auxilliary Carrier(Extremely lightly armed, just carries lots of fighters to distant fleet engagements like this one) , 7 Heavy[missile] destroyers(Andalusa +6 others), 3 Light Destroyers(older,smaller missiles for anti-corvette/fighter/incoming missile), 18 corvettes, 22 fighters (18 in the Aux carrier, 4 from the 2 esc. Carriers.)]

I think you'd better pray for heavy Vylae involvement.


------------------
NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT
The Hard-Boiled Egg
Why?
Because she cant be beaten!

[Anyone who hasn't posted want to become an ESF captain?]

Snow fell lightly off Perneas' nose as he stared in a state of shock at prefect Gordon.

'No reinforcements? NO REINFORCEMENTS? My God man! There's an entire Union fleet bearing down on our fragile colony and admiral DuPont can spare us not ONE SINGLE SHIP?'

Gordon frowned at Perneas, and looked at him steadily. All traces of the savage angry man had gone.

'Do you question my ability at reading captain?' He asked quietly.

'No sir.'

'Thankyou.' He turned around and started walking towards tactical. The men there were
thoroughly busy, occupied with assessing the numbers of the Union fleet.

Perneas stared at his back, as the man jabbered to one of the officers. How strange, he though. Very strange. Union commanders had always been slightly different to their counterparts when it came to planning interstellar wars. They either attacked you completely with all their forces, or waited to see how would react after destroying a single ship.

'Admiral DuPont will have a good reason for doing this' Perneas felt a friendly hand on his shoulder. 'The Union is probably trying a feint to test our response time. Then suddenly they'll just head back into ether. Remember the Earth Scare?' Marselles said.

'Yes.' Replied Perneas.

The Earth Scare had been quite the most inventive little trick the Union had gotten up to since the Border War. On March the 28th, 2601, ESF pickets were alarmed by an overwhelming resurgence in Union military activity. The next day the entire body of the Union's navy, all 5 fleets, were detected heading into ESF space; their target Earth. For 72 hours, men and ships were rushed from all over the Federation to defend the Sol system and Earth. 3 days after the initial detection, the Union ships arrived at the edge of the Sol system, face to face with over 50 capital ships, and thousands of smaller ones courtesy of every division and even civilians. Then the Union fleet turned around, and headed back to Union space. To call it humiliating would be an understatement.

'But there's something wrong here. Earth, a big target, you could expect the ESF to rally for it, but Magestic 3? It's already well defended, and the civilian population is almost under constant martial law anyway. Even if this was another Earth Scare, Admiral DuPont could probably prevent the media from even knowing of it.' Said Perneas, earnestly.

'No doubt, no doubt. But he's the Admiral.'

Prefect Gondor finished talking to the men in tactical, and walked back to Perneas. His brown face was almost white.

'It appears I owe you an apology Captain Perneas. The Union fleet is certainly intent on conquest.'

'How do you know?' Asked Marselles keenly.

'Because they're hiding their numbers.'

******

2 hours later, Perneas was back in the Prometheus, Marselles was back in his carrier, the Negulon, and once again, Perneas was preparing for battle.

Prefect Gordon's voice rang out over the bridge via his hologram.

'...good, now would the light cruiser captain's please signal that they're in position?'

The Comm officer looked over at Perneas, 3 metres away and seated in his commander's chair. It presented an almost total view of the bridge, from the giant transparent window at the front, to every single control panel on every single level. As could the Romans say 'all roads lead to Rome', Perneas could honestly say 'all walkways lead to captain Perneas'.

He, Perneas, nodded at the Comm officer. The man pressed a button.

Gordon's eyes flickered to the control panel that was not shown in his picture. It was probably right in front of him, but to the people on the bridge it looked like he was looking at the chief engineers stomach.

'Good. Now the carrier captains?' He stood there for a few seconds. 'Come on people, this is not lunch break!'

Evidently the stray carrier signalled. He smiled a satisfied smile.

'Excellent. Now people pay close attention. The Union fleet is jamming our transmissions, so we can't even tell how many of them there are, only that they are coming to invade, and that they are taking it seriously this time. We can assume that the Union will be victorious in this encounter, if all things go according to their plans. We must therefore make do the most we can to disrupt those very plans. Assuming that they are using a single fleet for this conquest, we can predict to a slight degree how they will come out of hyperspace. My tactical teams are beaming this plan to you over using radio waves, right now.'

The Comm officer raised his hand in a signal of affirmation. Perneas nodded back.

'Display the plan picture, override Gordon's image keeping the sound.' Said Perneas quickly, so as not to interrupt Gordon.

'I advise all captain's to display the plan picture.' Announced Gordon.

The picture of the system in 3-D appeared over the bridge. Instead of ships, were square and triangles representing them. Lines of x, y and z allowed the eye to differentiate where they were positioned in three dimensional space.

'Run it.' Said Perneas.

The picture changed. Not the ships though, they stayed in the same position. What happened, was that Union ships sprang out of hyperspace. Atleast, it seemed like it. 3 big triangles (Perneas guessed they represented the battlecruiser's, but was not entirely sure) 3 diamonds (carriers, if this followed the standard warmap configuration) and 10 smaller triangles (heavy destroyers). The fleet appeared over Magestic 3, like a beautiful flower, and soon launched it's seeds. 18 - 20 smaller triangles (fighters perchance?) thought Perneas, and then saw 22 smaller ones. Ahh, those larger ones must be corvettes. Then the picture stopped.

Gordon's voice was heard again over the intercom, 'My tactical officers plan 3 different possible entry formations. These will all be seen. The first is the Enclosure manouevre. This is successful only when if the Union outnumbers the ESF ships by a significant majority. The Union commanders have very few opportunities to use this tactic, so I don't believe Admiral Lockwood will try it out in his first invasion attempt.'

The red triangles and diamonds rearranged themselves so they were spread out almost 180 degrees in front of Magestic 3. In the middle of the semi-circle were 3 battlecruisers, taking the position of the key-piece to the battle. Around them, the corvettes were spread out more or less evenly, and heavy destroyers guarded escort carriers at the tipes of the enclosure. The picture stopped when the ships began moving inwards.

'Since this is unlikely, I have ordered you into positions where you would be extremely vulnerable to such an attack. If any captain wishes to question this formation, then please tell us now. My warning is, that if we make preparations for an Enclosure, we will be slaughtered should we proceed with the following maneouvres. This is the Swarm tactic, and relies heavily on fighters. The Union does not usually make much use of their fighters, the very reason why I think this tactic is the more likely. Their admiral wishes to catch us off-guard.'

While he was talking, the Union ships rearranged into what could faintly resemble a merchant cruiser seen from the top-side. At the van of the formation, were the battlecruisers and heavy destroyers, very open and very unprotected against the wrath of the ESF ships. Behind them were the escort carriers, and spread thinly in between these seperate fleets the corvettes. Suddenly, the escort carriers launched all their fighters at once, and those fighters streamed towards Magestic 3. The battlecruisers and heavy destroyers slowed their approach, and the Union fighters dog-fighted in front. Leaving their most powerful ship's unprotected against the ESF's fighters, this tactic could be a risky one, and would incur heavy losses even with victory.

'This last tactic is the most common among Union captains, as it does not expose their main ships. The 'Porcupine' assault method is used almost all the time, but is almost fatally susceptible to a pincer counterstrike.'

Now the Union ships were not spread out at all, but formed a rough sphere, pin pricks at the outside, and huge Union battleruisers on the inside. Layer by layer, as if the strongest ships were afraid to get hurt, and the lighter ones the opposite. Provided the enemy did not attack from 2 sides, the Union could rely on having longer-range weapons to pound the enemy to dust inside they're reinforced shell.

'I have prepared you for the Swarm tactic, but you're position will work more or less against the Porcupine manouevre. Godspeed, and good luck. I will forward our ETA of the Union fleet to your viewscreens.'

The voice stopped, and the tactical screen remained frozen and motionless.

'Switch it off please' asked Perneas. It was switched off, to make way for the timer. The same timer Perneas had watched while being pursued by a certain battlecruiser under the command of the very Admiral who he was about to fight.

'Come back to finish the job have you?' He muttered.

******

The crew watched the counter in anticipation. Their sweat could be seen even from Perneas viewpoint. He did not blame them, he was sweating too. He deeply wished that Darkk was here to assist, perhaps the Vylae Warship could turn the tide of this loathsome battle he was certain he would lose.

5.... Oh here we go he thought. God how much I hate countdowns!
4....
3....
2....
1...

Spatial disruptions were visible quite clearly against the backdrop of space. Tactical screamed;

'It's the Swarm formation!'

Perneas could stand it no longer. Jumping out of his seat, he ran over into the Tactical Section of the bridge. He looked over at the screen. The ships were certainly positioned in swarm formations, but there was something clearly wrong with it. No middle stream. Either the Union fleet was more bold than he thought, or...

'It's an altered Porcupine formation!' He exclaimed. Gordon's picture flashed onto the bridge.

'The Union has opted for the Swarm formation, capital ships get ready to jump behind the escort carriers. Frigates and fighters, will take pairs and engage the incoming fighters.'

Perneas yelled out to Comm;

'Connect me to Gordon NOW!'

The man nodded, but Perneas remained where he was.

Gordon's picture stopped transmitting, and Perneas switched on his personal commlink.

'Wh-'

'Gordon, the Union has NOT opted for a Swarm attack, but is using an altered porcupine asssault pattern. Stop the capital ships from jumping behind them now!'

There was a pause on the other side, interrupted by minor bursts of static.

'By God you're right!' He exclaimed.

The light on Perneas' commlink died, but Gordon appeared over the bridge.

'All capital ships, abort ether, all capital ships, abort ether!' He screamed into into each captain's holovision screen, from the tiny radio-only cockpits of the fighters, to the huge 3-D gallery in the carriers.

But it was too late.

From Perneas' position next in tactical, he could see every movement of the fleet. The ESF ships had not aborted quickly enough. Already in a mini-hyper jump they could not abort till they had arrived at their destination - the meatgrinder of space between the battlecruisers and escort carriers. Someone muttered a prayer. The carriers dropped out of hyperspace, and began receiving fire immediately. The light cruiser, being more nimble and slightly faster managed to evade firepower until they built up enough charge to jump again, but could not make accurate calculations as to where, so they spun off in random directions all over the solar system. The carriers, who were specially geared so they could not do this, tried to launch fighters in order to stave off the assault, but it was no good. Plasma coming from corvettes shot the fighters as soon as they exited the carrier, and melted the bays where they came from. A few enterprising corvette captains circled round the carrier, evading the railgun and blasted at it's fusion reactor, destroying it instantly. of the 4 carriers that had jumped, 1 was destroyed, 2 badly damaged and only a single one had managed to re-jump near Magestic 3.

'It must be slaughter in there!' Exclaimed a crewman.

Perneas could do nothing but agree.

As they waited in comfort next to the orbital railguns of Magestic 3, those on the other side of the system were enduring pure and unadulterated chaos. Neutron missiles exploded left and right, some hitting, some just casting halos of deadly radiation across the vacuum of space. Ships spun around, trying as much as anything to find a target to attack, and desperately hoping that the missiles trailing it would lose their guidance among the debris of carrier's and fighters. Machinegun bullets raced across space, arcing some of them, but more just kaplonking onto anything in their path, be it friend or foe. Union fighters, not going out to engage the approaching frigate and fighter group, engaged the ESF without mercy. Using their incredible strength to their advantage, they could sit back at their leisure and fire at the mess that was their dogfight. Whilst being able to withstand much machinegun fire from their own ships, the ESF fighters couldn't. Space was spraying with projectiles, and it was rare indeed, among so much plasma and Union unique weapons, to see a railgun shell or even a piece of gravsteel debris.

Finally, after so much tension, the 2 remaining carriers, now all badly damaged, but alive, broke free of the thrall of the Union fleet, and jumped back into position. While it might seem that the ESF had taken a light beating for their rashness, a free punch on your opponent like that could easily turn the tide of the battle. But in a battle so sorely weighted as this, it could spell only sure defeat.

[This message has been edited by Count Altair El Alemein (edited 06-16-2001).]

[This message has been edited by Count Altair El Alemein (edited 06-16-2001).]

Bug was just finishing giving the message to Mag.
"Okay. Bug, get up to the bridge, and call my cell phone. We'll have to use you as a navigator, since we can only steer the ship from engineering, and we don't have any windows down here."
"Yes, sir." Bug raced off on his five legs to the exit, and took a right down the corridor.
"Where's a computer I can interface with to fly this thing?"
"Right over here, Mag," said Rob, pointing to one of the computer consoles. Mag pulled up a chair and sat down at it.
"So what's working and not working?"
"Engine 3 is out, torpedo tubes 1, 2, and 5 are out, we've only got one turret and two swivel cannons online, and the cloaking device is out. And our RCS system is partially online, but we have no way to stop spinning."
"Right. Transfer all power from anything not working to regenerating the shields, and focus 50% of the shielding over that crater in our armor, I don't want to take any more damage from lucky shots."
"Aye, sir."
Mag's cell phone rang. He picked it up. "Hello?"
"This is Bug. I can tell you what to do to get this ship to the cargo ships, and I'll be ready to target our weapons."
"Good job. What should I do?"
"Stop spinning."
"I can't, the RCS system isn't working well enough."
"Recompensating for new data."
"And engine 3 is out."
"Recompensating... complete. RCS left." Mag used the left turn RCS thrusters.
"RCS up." Mag pulled up.
"RCS right." Mag turned the ship to the right. This made sense, as he had to keep switching to continue turning in the same direction while spinning.
"Accelerate." All ships outside of the Rift would have seen it spiraling towards the cargo ships with fire spewing out of one side, and lots of black marks and small dents and craters.
"Bug, how close are we to having those 'Dark Elite' ships in range?"
"They will be in range of our torpedoes in approximately 30 seconds, sir."
"And what types of ships are they using?"
"Torpedo frigates, sir. Two of them."
"We'll have to take them down quickly, then. Does the mining station have any ships for hire?"
"Hold on, I will communicate with them." Mag waited for about five seconds before, "they currently have three Avengers for hire, at 10,000 credits each."
"Let's hire them," Mag said into the phone. Then, muttering, "This is going to be extremely expensive."
"Captain, the three avengers are taking up positions around us."
"Good. Now how about those 'Dark Elite'?"
"They will be in range in three seconds." Mag waited for three seconds.
"Fire the torpedoes, and have the avengers head in."
"Aye, sir. Torpedoes away, and Avengers approaching their targets... The torpedoes have hit their target, and the Avengers have destroyed it."
"Great work. Now for the next one."
"Sir, pull down, right now. Now pull left, sharply. You can stop maneuvering, now, we just dodged a pair of incoming torpedoes. Firing at the second frigate... The second frigate has been destroyed. I'll give you directions for pulling into an escort position with the remaining cargo ship..."
--------------------
Three hours later, the cargo ship, the SA.SC.Pern-3, the Rift, and the Tailfire, Mag's Phoenix-class racing shuttle, were all docked with the mining station. Mag was in the docking bay, working out figures. He'd hired three Avengers at 10,000 credits a piece, and repairs were going to be 4,000 credits for the Tailfire and 162,000 credits for the Rift. Piemur was paying him 20,000 for escorting the cargo ship in, and he was going to get some revenue from destroying those pirate ships. Lets see, he didn't destroy any Invasions, which counted as non-combat ships. But the Avengers, Eluders, and Quantums totaled to 17 fighters destroyed, with a 1,075 credit reward for each. He hadn't destroyed any gunboats or corvettes, but the Rift had done half of the work on each of the two Torpedo Frigates, making a total count of one frigate disabled, with a reward of 18,750 credits. He hadn't done anything to any destroyers, cruisers, or carriers, but he had disabled one battleship, with a reward of 60,000 credits. Mag did the figuring. He owed 196,000 credits, and was going to get 117,025 credits for his defense of the system. He had lost 78,975 credits. He checked his account. He only had 57,582 credits. He owed the mining station 21,393 credits in repairs to the Rift.
------------------
Several hours later, Mag and Piemur were seated in expensive chairs at a table with various notes and papers and disks on it. A station representative was pacing back and forth on the opposite side of the table, smoking a cigar. Mag had almost had enough of the stench. "Well, it appears that you two are in a similar situation. Mr. Steelglass owes this station around twenty thousand credits. And Piemur, here, owes us many favors." The representative turned and paced in the other direction, after giving them both a quick glare. "Now, we are a reasonable station, and would consider the boards cleaned if you two went on a certain mission for us, for no pay. A mission that shou-"
"What sort of mission?" Mag butted in. He was tired of this self-centered representative strolling about, trying to make them uncomfortable.
"Exploration. We have recently recieved reports from traders that have been far west that several governments and races exist over there that we are not currently in business with. We believe that they could use our minerals, and we could profit in a trade agreement with them. Your job is to travel to the galactic west, and to establish contact with these governments and races, and take notes on them. You will report back here in six months. We will sent along a cruise vessel for you to hold meetings on, three ore haulers to transport any cargo you need, and two blockade runners, for the purposes of holding yet more cargo, making sure you are safe, and that you return with what we want. These blockade runners are plenty combat capable, and you will not want them to turn on you. If you fail on this mission, we will have profiles and rewards ready for several bounty hunting guilds. Do you completely understand me?"
"Yes, Mr. Davidson." Mag said. Piemur nodded his head.
"Good. We will have the captains of the ships that will be travelling with you meet you in the bar. In the meantime, I wish you good luck."
Mag and Piemur got up and left the room, headed for the bar...

------------------
"Thou shalt not be a loser."
[url="http://"http://www.MSPlugDevelopment.n3.net"]www.MSPlugDevelopment.n3.net[/url]
Reviews are appreciated.

Entering the bar, Piemur's eyes immediatly started watering from the heavy smoke...he wasn't used to this kind of thing. His business contacts usuall handled these things, and certainly never in a bar like this. He wished he hadn't gagged with that cigar nearby...but what would Mag have thought of a person owning a heavy cruiser? And holding his own in a major combat situation? His head swam, might as well get used to it, he was going to have to get used to a lot of things. Walking up to the captains, he and Mag shook hands with them. Then, behind his back, he wiped them clean on the seat of his pants. His face, he knew, was turning green. Fortunatly the dim light kept that from the others.
"Gentlemen..." Mag started, mister self-confidence himself.
"...err...hullo..." Piemur stammered.
"I see you are our escorts, and that we will have an exploratory mission ahead of us. May I see the profiles of your ships?"
Piemur thought to himself, Great! Now I have no idea WHAT I'm getting into...this Mag guy seems to know what to do, might as well cruise along. Why didn't I just offer a huge sum of money to get those station jerks off my back? I could pay for all the damages...and what would I do if my head is on a bounty list? Well, buy them off of course. Oh Dad! What would you think of me now that I've gotten the business in trouble?
Mag continued, "We will be using channel #34 on the broadband for general contacts. My personal ship contact frequency will be on channel #56, and Piemur will use #57, if you want to contact us directly. Any questions? Then lets get going!"
"Mag, may I have a few words with you, alone?" Piemur said quietly.
"Sure thing."
"I havn't had much experience in this kind of thing, so if you would be so kind as to be the so called 'leader' of this group, I would appreciate it!"
"What do you mean? I thought you were doing great all alone by yourself."
"Well, I have had a little combat training, but nothing much in the way of major strategic tactics. Just in case things like that happened."
"Hey, I had none, but I managed fine..."
"Yeah...I guess I dont have much self-confidence in myself..."
"I see...you're that kind of person..."
"Well, I guess..."
"NO! I meant that you're the kind of person who underestimates himself. You handled things very well back there...in some cases, better than what I could have couped up myself...had I been in the same situation...I think. I guess you just need to have more of these kind of missions. You'll learn a lot, bud"
Smiling, Piemur replied, "You could call me 'Pie'. It's just a nickname friends of mine call me by back home. Though, they would be really shocked at the things I've just done. None of them have EVER been in a major combat situation. Heh, I'll just bet they would have all balked and just let the pirates take them over."
"See? You're doing well already!"
Perking up, Piemur gave Mag a quick handshake, "I'll never forget you...ever...and thanks again for helping my ship. You know, personally, you should have asked for more, I was that willing...but thanks for the price!"
With that, he left.
"Where are you going? Why dont you have a drink?"
Calling over his shoulder, Piemur replied, "Need to take care of some business...thanks though, friend!"
Mag muttered to himself under his breath, "Great! Now I've just got myself a little worshiper...why did I just do that?"
He ordered a strong drink...
------
Upon entering the trade offices, Piemur just realized the enormity of what he was about to do. First off, he could fail, and get himself in a lot of trouble. Second, he would be put way behind scedule for his next trade routes. Third, how was he going to manage contact by unknown aliens? Would he freak? Would he remain calm? Would he just bungle things so badly that he might as well join some farming colony to save face? Well, no time to think about things now, he needed to put on his best merchant's face and do some bargaining. At least THAT he knew how to do well. Those ship components were in high demand now. Especially so when the station was hit. He hid a grin. These guys will be paying a lot for this equipment! I will be getting the deal of my life! Of course, all that may be destroyed by a simple mistake...now dont think about that now!
A couple hours later, he exited the offices with a halfway sort of expression of victory. They were literally begging him for those components! He had to call up a few of his friends and use up a few favors. Calling Jimmy Merchantson, he told him that he was going to be away for a few months, and needed him to manage his trade business in the meantime.
"Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"No, no trouble at all. I'm just going on a possibly profitable trade alliance venture."
"OK, then. But I get 10% of the profits."
Haggling for a few minutes, Piemur got it down to 5%. Then, reluctantly, he called his lawyers. Half an hour later, he got his will set up...signed and witnessed...

------------------
"At ----- , bullcrap is our most important product"
-graffiti on the lavatory wall of a major consultancy (from The Wizardry Consulted)

[This message has been edited by Piemur1 (edited 06-18-2001).]

"Weapons, you may engage the Neutron Missile turrets as soon as targets become available. Please maintain weapons hold on Plasma Vents. Machine guns to missile intercept only. Helm, calculate a burn sequence to put us seven points west of the Federal Fleet in maximum seven minutes. Include calculations for correction burns to make it less than that. Standby to engage on my mark. ECM, what is the status of the Federal Fleet, and where did their carriers go?"

The ECM officer was pressing one of his headphones to his ear, and watching displays on six or seven monitors in front of him. Pharris watched on the main bridge 3D display while the ECM officer explained. "They intended to engage us head on, but apparantly ordered an early retreat, as the cruisers that ethered into the forward intercept point retreated immidiately, leaveing their carriers vulnerable. The one functional carrier has returned to join the fleet at a rallying point in a lower orbit. The other two are disabled and are being destroyed. The rest of the fleet is regrouping near railgun emplacements Foxtrot and Romeo."

"Excellent. Captain, we have prepared to engage the engines and await your order."

Captain Dulles was seated next to his XO, but was not paying attention to running his ship, he was on the command channel, giveing orders tot he corvettes and fighters that were assigned to be his escort, and listening to the orders from above. The tactical display showed the orders and desired locations and actions of each ship in the fleet in a 3D diagram, that updated whenever new orders were given. These were supplemented by text and voice messages from the fleet admiral's staff. Normally, this responsability went to the Tactical station, but Dulles also had his own escorts to direct, as his immidiate needs could very well override the admiral's in an emergency. This left Pharris to fight his ship, with only intermittent orders from his captain.

"Maintain course until ordered. The fleet must split to encircle together, and the destroyers need to punch a few holes in the railgun batteries before a pincer will have the slightest chance of success. Carry on, Mr. Pharris."

The destroyers were still in the lead, preparing to unload their second salvo. As Lockswood gave the order, the twelve destroyers fired two guided missiles each, targeting the emplaced railguns and the fleet behind them. The missiles raced toward their targets while the destroyers fell back into the fleet, takeing up positions along the outer edge of the porcupine. The first missiles made contact, concentrating four fifty kiloton warheads on the Victor, Bravo and Romeo orbital railgun platforms. Armoured though they were, the platforms were knocked from their orbits and heavily damaged by the blasts. The missiles passed the three shattered stations and closed on the fleet. The Federal ships began firing their defensive missiles, and entered into evasive manouevers. At exactly this moment, Lockswood ordered the formation to break.

Captain Dulles heard the command.
"Mr Pharris, you may commence the manouver."

"Aye sir. Helm, fire the thrusters."

Four light capital ships, the heaviest of which being the Xerxes broke off from the main fleet, and with their auxiliary fighters and corvettes in tow, spread out in their own direction. The formation broke from the sphere, and turned inta a large umbrella shape, lead out at four points, funnelling the federation ships towards the three battlecruisers in the center of the formation. The whole fleet entered into a steep, rapid descent into low orbit, where the Federals were already busy dealing with the flight of nuclear missiles. It wouldn't be long before the Union had them surrounded and could pound them mercilessly to shreds.


------------------
NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT
The Hard-Boiled Egg
Why?
Because she cant be beaten!

[Pharris, come on gr before the time above this post tomorrow!]

'The carrier Negulon has been destroyed.'

Captain Perneas sat, with his head in his hands, in the captain's chair. Tears started welling up in his eyes. Marselles was dead. His carrier destroyed, annihilated by it's explosive end. And what's more, the battle was lost.

Perneas gazed out upon the screens of Tactical, while his officer's and crewmembers screamed at each other, trying to make a difference.

'Coming at you 45 by 45!'
'Fighter escort 3 has been destroyed.'
'Incoming plasma, evasive action.'
'Escort frigate 1 has been destroyed.
'Fighter escort 4 and 5 have been destroyed.'

'Sir?'

Perneas stared at a man who had broken his peaceful silence.

'What?'

'Someone is signalling us.' Perneas got up. Could it be? No. But a speck of intuition told him it was so.

'Turn it on.'

The holovisor flashed into life. Darkk was standing there.

'Greetings darkk.'

'Greetings Captain Perneas. I'd advise that you move out of your current sector. Right now.'

Perneas looked at the tactical screen. 3 Union battlecruisers were finishing off the agressive pincer that had decimated the railgun platforms and left half the fleet in ashes, on the other side of the planet. But it was only a matter of time before the heavier ships made the half-orbit necessary to come in range. At the moment Perneas was being harassed by heavy fighters and corvettes. Even so, he was taking damage.

'Power up the drive, began a fast exit of this planet's orbit.' He said to a navigation officer. 'Signal the survivors of the fleet to follow me.'

'I'm afraid that won't fast enough. Look your window Perneas, 90 degrees to the left of the planet.'

At the moment, the Prometheus was round the dark side of the planet, Perneas having given the order to flee as soon as he saw Lockwood go in with his pincer. Many of the frigates and destroyers disobeyed the prefects order and followed. They were currently the only survivors. Now, with billions upon billions of tons of rock seperating him and his adversary, Perneas had thought himself safe for the time being.

He noticed, on the area of space not filled up by the planet, spatial distortions. They were kind of chaotic, suggesting that someone was make a very tight jump. As if by magic, 3 ships burst out of nothing. 2 heavy destroyers, and what looked like a down-sized battlecruiser.

Without waiting for the inevitable nuclear hailstorm, he gave the signal to jump.

'Engage light drives!'

'What about the survivors?' Asked the stricken officer. Perneas looked at him, realising how he was now the only thing that stood between his loyal escorts and certain, not escapable, not even avoidable, death.

He turned to Darkk.

'I won't leave my ships behind. Get here quickly or don't get here at all.'

'I assure you Perneas, that no quicker method of travel exists than the one I am taking. Dispense with the heroics for the moment, and leave for the outskirts of the system, coordinates 39,3 39,3 Magestic's axis.'

Darkk's picture switched off.

'Do it.' Said Perneas to a nearby stardrive officer.

'Sir, there's a message from the Union cruiser Xerxes.' Someone said breathlessly.

Just then, Perneas noted how the heavy destroyers hadn't fired. Otherwise, Perneas would be knee-deep in neutrons. Well well, that's one thing I haven't seen yet. A humane Union captain.

'Switch it on.'

Someone's image filled the screen. A tall, blonde man wearing the insignia of a Union captain. He began to speak:

'I am Captain Dulles of the Union cruiser Xerxes. I have come to offer you terms of surrender and survival. Should you choose to escape into ether, I will fire upon your escorts and annihilate them. If you surrender, you and your crew will be treated according to the Sander Convention and allowed to return to ESF space. You have one minute to respond.'

'How long till we can escape to light speed?' Captain Perneas whispered to the chief engineer.

'2 seconds.'

Perneas smiled at captain Dulles.

'No thanks.'

'As you wish.' Captain Dulles' hologram switched off.

Just then, nuclear missile ports opened on the heavy destroyers, and Prometheus escaped into lightspeed.

He would make the Union pay for the slaughter of Marselles, and captain Dulles for making his escorts suffer for his mistakes.

[This message has been edited by Count Altair El Alemein (edited 06-20-2001).]

Darkk watched the fight on the monitor as his small fleet sped through the warpship's folded-space conduit. His ship, and its escort, had folded space drive, but the warpship was necissary for maximum speed. Judging by the situation, the ESF needed all the speed Darkk could put on. He hoped his reading was right - if not, he might fail and die. He told himself to calm down, that he was a class A2 reader, 99.99% infalable. There was a fleet on standby, no more than 2 minutes away. He could last that long, no problem. But it would be so much better if he didn't need to.

Darkk's ships exited the swirling maw of the tear in space no more than 300 klicks from the battlecruisers. The carrier engaged its short-range space-folding, and accelerated towards the nearest one, dropping briefly out of lightspeed, seemingly doing nothing, and then accelerated away.

Lockwood smiled as the last orbital platform began to fall into the atmosphere. It was a glorious victory, almost perfect. The only thing missing was the head of the man who killed his son. That would come in a few secon...
"Sir! Aneas is calling! They're being boarded!"
"What? Put them on!"

A transmission window opened on the main screen. As it was a voice-only call, there was no picture. "Admiral!!! They're boarding us! I don't have a clue how they got here, but they're tearing up everything! They're unstoppable!" In the background, screams, gunfire, and antipersonel rockets could be heard, getting louder. "Oh s***, here they YAAHHEEAHH"
TRANSMISSION DISCONECT On the main monitor, the shields of the Aneas went down.

Lockwood looked at his bridge crew. Their eyes were bulging, their jaws were hanging. They were petrified with fear. What had just happened was impossible. These "Vylae" had boarded a ship without even getting near it!! His crew had begun to panic. So was he - he was sweating, his throat was tight. The unknown, the impossible are the most terrifying. He had to calm himself, then his crew.

"Sir! They're coming back for another pass!"
"Open fire with fusion rockets! We've got to take them down!! Helm, point us dead at them."
No response.

Lockwood turned - the navigator and pilot had fainted. He was about to order someone else to take their places when the room exploded in sprays of plasma, bullets, and rockets. Lockwood didn't even have time to dive for the floor as the bridge crew exploded in bursts of gore, red steam, and cinders.

"Please turn around, Admiral Lockwood. We would like to see the look on your face!" said a chorus of high-pitched voices behind him. He turned slowly, hands up. A gaggle of birdlike creatures, holding odd weapons, was standing behind him. Surprisingly, with them were two humans, wearing the same uniform. At least, they might be human - their hair was bright orange, their eyes a shining yellow. "Now, Lockwood, you will order your fleet to surrender." Lockwood sighed - these Vylae had ruined everything. "Ok, I give." He opened a comm channel.

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

Darkk met Perneas in the cargo bay of Darkk's ship. "How the hell did you do that?!?!?" Perneas shouted as he got off the shuttle. "That was impossible!"

"My dear Perneas, nothing is impossible. We have the technology to convert objects to standing energy waves and send them through space, where they are reconstituted. This technology is sufficiently accurate to be used on sentient subjects. The carrier's version is sufficiently powerful to be used through shields. The Union had never encountered teleporters before, and thus was not ready to defend against a boarding party starting well inside the center of the ship."

"That is a dang frightening technology."

"In our neck of the woods, all major groups have it - even our local splinter faction of humans."

"Speaking of humans, what's with her?" Perneas pointed at the odd woman, wearing a Vylae uniform, standing behind Darkk.

"Most humans working with us volanteer for marine duty, due to their superior physical strength. Also, they are one of the few species we know of which can survive the enhancement procedures."

"Enhancement..."

"Yes. It was origionally developed by that splinter faction I mentioned, although we've made many improvements. The orange hair and yellow eyes are a side effect."

"It's too bad Pharris disobeyed orders and ran, I'd love to see him get torn up like your people tore up those other Unionists."

[If you're wondering what the enhancement procedure is, read the M1 terminal on battleroids. The Vylae version of it is done on living people, and involves more nanotech and chemical work, instead of just mechanical/electronic enhancement.]

------------------
Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

[Excellent! Darkk, please note that the next enemies you're about to fight, the naarad, are all computer-controlled ships except for the dreadnought, which is not making an appearance here, Pharris? There's a naarad fleet waiting outside the system, waiting on your word! Fleet = 3 Carrier Units, 5 Defense Units, 8 Support Units, 12 Assault Units. Naarad Carriers have energy-draining space rods, gravitonic homing pulses, defense units have energy-draining space rods, heavy antimatter, and the naarad version of flak, support units have turreted ion cannons, gravitonics, and assault units have antimatter and union type plasma.]

Captain Perneas sat, rather bored, on top of his captain's chair. Freed from the vertigo of battle, his officers and men cooled down by having cups of coffee or idle chatter. Outside the screen, Magestic 3 could be seen, almost blocked by a huge amount of gravsteel wreckage. Most of done by the Vylae. Now, since the Vylae could beam on board his ship at will, and he back, he merely sat and waited for the word. He might enjoy this.

'Captain? Darkk is ready.'

'Tell him I await his pleasure.'

The man spoke into his comm-link. Perneas felt a queer twisting sensation, as if he was being turned inside out. Then, before he could quantify the feeling, he found himself on Darkk's flagship, standing in a cell.

Darkk nodded at him. In the very pose his son had held, Admiral Lockwood sat. His arms in iron binders, his head lowered but his eyes glinting defiance.

'Let us begin' Said darkk. 'Since you have a number of mind-blocks Admiral Lockwood' Surprise showed on his face. 'I will spend this session searching for the word that will unlock them.'

'What mind block?' He asked, evidently confused.

'The mind-block you have on your mind that prevents you from telling us things!' Perneas shouted furiously.

Lockwood twisted his mouth in a sour-half grin. 'You ESF are the scum of the universe.' He pronounced.

Perneas cooled himself with a supreme effort of will.

This time darkk would be asking the questions. Away from the prisoner's eyes, was a panel that displayed how much response Darkk's questions would be getting. The higher the response, the closer he was getting. Then drugs injected into Gveinne took action that moment, and he ceased all expression in his cold blue eyes.

'What is your name?'

'Admiral Gveinne Lockwood.'

'What is your rank?'

'Admiral of the 3rd Battle group.'

'Who killed your son?'

'That bastard over there!' He said, some signs of emotion creeping in. Perneas recoiled at the huge red spike on his emotional indicator. Whenever the admiral looked at Perneas, that spike appeared. Red for hate.

'Was your son the reason why you went to destroy captain Perneas?' Darkk said.

'No.'

'What was the reason?'

'I was under orders to attack Magestic 3 with the 3rd fleet.'

'Who gave you your orders?'

'Bor Reinz, Councilor-Governor of the Union of Worlds.'

'Why did Bor Reinz choose this moment to attack?'

'I don'...' the prisoner stuttered... 'I donnn'ttt... I do know!'

'You do?' Asked Perneas dubiously.

'I have an idea of why.' Replied Admiral Lockwood.

'Declare your idea to us.' Said Darkk.

'The Naarad ordered him to.'

Perneas leaned over to darkk and whispered 'These are the naarad Dean spoke of!'

Darkk said: 'Before you attacked Magestic 3, why did you send your fleet after captain Perneas?'

'To recover my son.' There was something suspicious here.

'Why was your son running from you?'

'Because' and their was remorse in his eyes, 'He was a traitor! I was ordered to.'

'What were your orders?'

'To prevent Dean from removing his mind-block by capturing him and reconditioning him for service as an Admiral for the 6th fleet.'

Perneas broke in. '6 fleets? I thought there were only 5!'

Gveinne smiled. 'You're wrong. There are 6 now.'

'No Gveinne, there WERE 6 fleets.' Perneas smiled at Lockwood's evident disorientation in time.

'How would Dean have removed his mind-block?' Asked Darkk.

'By going to certain pirates who live on the fringes of ESF space. They could imperfectly remove his mind-block.'

'What did he plan to do after then?' Asked Darkk.

'I do not know, but our intelligence indicated he might try to sell his information to the ESF. We could not afford that.'

'What was he hiding?' The spikes on the emotional indicator were getting higher now, especially the yellow one, which was the key to knowing the crucial word.

'He was not hiding anything. All Union officers who come into contact with the Nnnnnn - ' He skipped over the word as Darkk touched a button. 'always have mind-blocks installed, and are reconditioned. My son' There was a trace of pride in his voice, 'Had an especially strong will, and broke free of his conditioning.'

'Naarad?' Said Darkk, smiling slightly.

Lockwood moved liked he had an electric stun prod shoved in his back. But the mind block stayed.

'Mmm...' Darkk knew he was close. 'Nerad?'

Lockwood received a visible jolt.

'Er Rad?'

Lockwood's drugs kicked in and he sank back against his chair.

'Kerad?'

Lockwood's eyes snapped open, and the spike on the counter shot up.

'I have an idea' whispered Perneas.

'Kuran?' He said. The energy spike on the counter dropped to nil. Lockwood sighed visibly and his bulging eyes relaxed slightly.

'Well done. What made you think it was Kuran?' Asked Darkk.

'The Kuran is a religious book that has been in existence for millenia. The Union has always had a strong atheist base. I guess the Naarad have a sense of humour as well.'

Darkk suddenly froze.

'I think you'd better return to your ship, captain Perneas.'

'Why?' Perneas asked.

'Because we've spotted an incoming fleet of unidentified ships. There is an overwhelming probability these are Naarad ships.'

"What we have here, Mr Pharris, is a very large problem."

"I think I had a similar reaction right about the time that all three battlecruisers stopped in their tracks and we recieved the order to surrender from Admiral Lockswood."

Dulles only nodded in agreement. He paced back and forth anxiously.

"You know as well as I do what must be done."

"We have to reach the admiralty"

"Yes."

Inside a safe in the captains cabin was a computer terminal that allowed for a direct connection to the CINC-UN. first star post-captain Foster Dulles would need to deliver the bad news. Both Pharris and the captain put their keys into the safe and turned them. They then placed their thumbs onto the pads as thousands of infinitely tiny needles pricked their skin, checking their thumbprint and gathering sufficient DNA to determine their identities. Not yet satisfied, the safe took a voiceprint from each before opening the door.

Pharris pulled a chair up to the old style keyboard inside the safe and typed his code to login. The captain did the same, and a simple text window opened. Pharris sat down to type as Dulles dictated his letter.



From: USS XERXES CR-489
To: CINC-USF

It is Captain Foster Dulles' great displeasure to report to the Commander-in-Chief that
the Third fleet of the Union Navy has suffered defeat at the hands of ESF and Vylae
forces in low orbit of Majestic 3. The USS Xerxes is currently absent without leave
from her fleet, as all Union ships were ordered to surrender by Admiral Lockswood. I
take full responsability for the actions of this ship and others that joined us in our
retreat. Any failure on the part of these ships to complete their duty has occurred
at my orders, therefore I am to be held accountable for the actions of them and their
crews.

I hope that I shall have the pleasure to remain respectfully yours,
Foster Dulles, Master and Commander, USS Xerxes.

Radar and radio transmission logs follow.

End Transmission.




They left the safe open, expecting an answer in a few minutes, but it was almost twenty minutes before they recieved the reply. It was short, direct and to the point.



From: CINC-USF
To: USS XERXES CR-489

Xerxes and escorts proceed to attatched coordinates. You are to cooperate with the
orders from the vessels at the rendezvous without fail. Do not question, simply obey.

Coordinates Follow

End Transmission.



"Who could we possibly be meeting, there arn't any Union forces out here."
Pharris looked up from the screen at his Captain.

"I don't care who we're meeting. Reinforcements are reinforcements. Give those coordinates to Navigation. I'll be up in a moment."

"Aye Sir"

Pharris left the cabin as Dulles sat down at the encryption machine to reread the message for himself.


* * *


The Xerxes dropped out of Ether along with the Andalusa and two light destroyers on the far outskirts of the Majestic system, high above the plane of orbit of the planets. the ships hung there motionless for a moment before the main 3D viewer on the bridge activated without prompt, revealing a large floating scarab. Pharris was speechless for a moment, the shiny mettalic back of the scarab was beautiful, shimmering and dancing in the light. He stood there in awe for what seemed like an eternity before the voice came. Quivering and penetrating, noone on the Bridge could move. They were held by the soothing yet eerily menacing voice.

"Pharris being... Naarad is impressed with your skills. Naarad forces will make way for the greater conquest... It would be wise for Pharris being to destroy the evidence of past failure. Much knowledge may be lost... Pharris being will follow Naarad forces. We will send advice and protection."

The scarab dissapeared and the Naarad ships transmitted FTL nav coordinates to the Union ships, and then jumped towards Majestic 3, barely exceeding lightspeed. The four Union ships immidiately jumped after them, following the waypoints they had been sent.


------------------
NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT
The Hard-Boiled Egg
Why?
Because she cant be beaten!

[This message has been edited by Captain Pharris (edited 06-20-2001).]

Darkk watched the fleet on the sensors. Why were they going so slowly? Ah well, it didn't matter a bit.

"Warpship 017 here."
"This is Darkk - I'll need that support after all, we've got unknown enemies here. They're the Union's Naarad allies, from what I gather - they seem to be extremely powerful and dangerous. We'll need as many as you can send here - I think these guys might give even terms."
"Just a minute, the Fleet Admiral wants to brief you."

Volvox - again, after all these years.

"Hello, Darkk. It's been awhile. Let's be brief. We have very little information on these, even for my clearance. They're tough, and good. They've got hard shields, and are computer-run drones for the most part - unless you get creative, teleporters and phased beams aren't gonna work. I'm sending in Warpship 017, its escorts, and every ship it can pull in. You're acting Vice Admiral for the duration, so you can order them around. Screw up and you'll be my gofer for the rest of your life, got it?"

Darkk gulped. He thought of all that was on the line - his carrer, his life, his crew's lives, his fleet's lives, the lives of those on the planet, the lives of an uncomfortably large portion of humanity, the military balence of the galaxy. This was not trivial. He wished Volvox could have sent a more experienced commander.

What the heck was he saying!! Get ahold of yourself, Darkk. You've spent almost a decade watching from Volvox's feet. You've fought the Union, which used at least some of the Naarad's technology, more than anyone. You're a class A2 reader, you can read battle movements at 78% accuracy. Nobody except Volvox is better qualified for this.

The bright tear in space opened, and the Warpship plowed through, trailing a hail of escort vessles. The tear stayed open for several minutes while a massive fleet amassed. Darkk hoped it would be enough.

Well, he was in command. Time to do some commanding. "Okay, listen up. I'm in temporary command here, so take these orders seriously. This is an unknown threat, so we'll have to be cautious. Carriers, launch all your fighters and get to the rear - the teleporters aren't very usefull agains these. Covettes and fighters, form a nice, big sphere around the Warpship. Battleships and Dreadnoughts, get inside that sphere. Open a hole in that sphere facing the enemy so that the Warpship's cannons can do some of the job. Destroyers, get rearwards. Okay, look sharp. I've no clue what kind of formation they're going to come at us in, so we've got to be ready for pretty much anything. Fire on targets in groups as standardized wing elements. We've got to take them out efficiently."

Darkk watched the Vylae pilots do as he said as though he was Volvox. The Vylae prided themselves on the professionalism of their species. The enemy had almost got to 5000 klicks. The Warpship announced it had drained its entire range of military vessles.

"Alright people, get ready to get this going. Remeber, try not to leave the Warpship wide open, but give it room to fire too."

Darkk watched the enemy pass the 5000km mark.

------------------
Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

Captain Perneas stood on the bridge of the ESF Prometheus, watching the approaching Naarad fleet with some confusion and not a little of fear.

He had just sent off a message to Jupiter, illustrating the events of the past few hours. That message would take fairly direct route to Admiral DuPont after it arrived, but any reinforcements would be too late.

The Vylae ships waited. Patiently for the oncoming armada of blue to reach them. Although surely capable of faster-than-light travel, they were cruising, almost at sub-light speeds. Behind them, were the 4 surviving Union ships. The Vylae, and captain Perneas, waiting next to the wreckage of the railgun platform, stolidly kept their trigger fingers steady.

5000 km...

Perneas gulped.

'Incoming!' Screamed someone, which is all the warning Perneas got.

Without so much as a blinck, without even a visible motion of movement, the Naarad fleet had jumped 5000 k and was right in the midst of the vylae fleet, firing and weaving at almost imposible speeds. Without the ability to teleport warriors straight into their ships, the Vylae would have to settle this the old-fashioned way: Blowing your opponent to pieces. Problem was, that was an unlikely future.

Caught off-guard, the cybernetically enhanced Vylae still fought well against the insect-like and distinctly alien -like craft of the Naarad. Within moments of the Naarad arriving, Darkk's sphere was evidently broken up into 2 pieces, with the warpship split in the middle. Slightly slower than the assault units, the Carriers, Defense and Support units arrived a few seconds later. Instantly, the warship caught one of the carrier's with a direct hit from it's main gun. Having come out of warp with it's shields down for a micro-second, that shot pierced it's energy generator. There were muffled cheers as it blew up in a spectatular anti-matter fireball.

Perneas had to turn his attention away from the console, as just then a wing of 6 naarad fighters ducked over the bridge and dropped plasma union-style into the back of the ship, while firing beams of blue energy. Perneas felt the beam hit the viewscreen and slice through him, leaving him with a nasty static shock. The computers however weren't as fortunate. With a crackle and a buzz, they shut-down, leaving the Prometheus effectively dead in space. Perneas could still see the battle from the viewscreen.

The destroyers at the back of Darkk's sphere had recovered for the moment, and were simply squirting missiles into the harassing Assault Units. The assault units themselves, realising the power of the warpship, had formed an unmoving blockade around it, and were firing anti-matter ball after ball into it's weakening shields. Even so, Perneas could see on of the Assault Units catch fire and drift, annihilated in a bright white glow that left his retina imprinted.

At the other side of the battlefield, the battleships, corvettes and fighters fought head-on with the 5 defensive units, who were had formed a protective ring around the support units. With each second, a support units lit a bright flare and sent it pummeling arcwards into one of the battleships. Taking damage, but still whole, the flare lighted up the whole of it's bruised end section. Any ships that tried to burst through to the support units were having their energy taken from them. Not daring the defensive units to a direct fight, they lobbed their own weapons back at them.

The destroyers by this time at forced down 6 of the Assault units, at considerable expenditure of weapons, when one of the officers in the nearly total black of the powerless bridge yelled: 'I think power's coming back!'

The lights flickered on.

'Direct us over to that Carrier their that trying to engage the destroyers, we'll see if we can't help them!'

"Torpedo Cruiser Rift, requesting exit clearance."
"Request recieved, Rift. What is your purpose for exit?"
"I have an exploration mission from Palyos Astromining."
"Clearance granted."

Mag watched as the massive docking bay door opened, letting the light from the Toros System's sun shine in, bright blue. Mag could see Pie's heavy cruiser and cargo ship lifting off to the right.

"Helm, take us out."
"Aye, sir."

The Rift lifted off the docking bay's "floor", and with an impressive amount of fire scorching the wall behind it, left the station. A message came on the screen:

- Incoming Transmission [Channel 56] -
Source: Toros System Mining Station
Subject: Rendezvous
Content: This is Will Davidson. You are to to rendezvous with the rest of your group at the coordinates 5931:8729:3965. After a meeting on board the cruise vessel to get your affairs in order, you will proceed to jumpgate Alpha_348. We will set this jumpgate up to take you to the Bezant System, where you will dock with shipyard station IRW-983m to have any last equipment you might need loaded up. You will then use jumpgate Beta_294 to go to the Ruby System, where you will stock up on some of our ores, so you can show any foreign groups just what we're offering them. The ores will be on the ore haulers, and the blockade runners will remain cargoless, so you will have room for any cargo you will acquire outside of currently known borders. From there, you will use hyperspace drives to explore to the galactic west. Report back in six months.
- Transmission Terminates -

"Helm, go the the coordinates in the transmission. I'm heading down to get the Tailfire warmed up. When you arrive at the rendezvous point, send a message to me, and I'll dock with the cruise vessel."
"Aye, sir. Heading to 5931:8729:3965."

Mag left the bridge, hiding his nervousness. He'd never been on any long trips before, and he didn't know how well he'd end up doing if he was forced into combat with ships of unknown types. And he didn't know how well aliens would react to humans. Or vice versa. This was going to be about the most unusual and unsettling part of his life for some time...

------------------
"Thou shalt not be a loser."
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Reviews are appreciated.

Darkk's mind was whirling. The links were projecting the totality of the battle into his imagination, and he was rotating, panning, and zooming it at a pace that would make an organism that evolved on the ground get dizzy, throw up, and faint. The Naarad fighters weren't nearly as fast as his, but better-armed and more durable. They were tearing through his heavier ships, but he had got quite a few worthy kills.

An assault unit moved in closer to the Warpship, and caught a hail of the Warpship's own antimatter - Darkk had little time to think of the irony as he skirted the blast narrowly.
"Warpship! Your only chance is to get in close and use the antimatter pulse array!"
"We know, but this is no fighter sir. We're trying as hard as we can."

Darkk considered. His best tactic - his only tactic - against the Union had been to use teleporters to surprise them from inside. These Naarad ships were drones, and had no crew. He could tell they were sentient, they were really too good to be just pre-programed. If only he could find a weakness in their mode of thinking, or ... figure out a new and better way to use teleporters. Of course!!

Darkk slaped himself with his wing, and turned on his comm headset. "Listen up, marine groups. I need you to teleport inside those shields as soon as they go below half strength and plant charges. It'll be difficult, but you guys aren't paid to lay around. Fleet group, try to just reduce their shields to a little under half, then move on. Let's make this happen fast, we don't want to lose that Warpship."

One of the support units dropped below 50% as a pair of psueadomatter pulses found their way to it. A carrier immediatly superlighted in behind it and unloaded group of marines. They engaged their gravboots and quickly planted shaped-charge limpits, then beamed off.

The timers had been set to 7 seconds, so the support unit detonated almost immediatly. The spectacular explosion clipped a neighboring Naarad ship, brining ITS shields down below the halfway mark, and the troops went to work again.

Darkk looked over the battle-data. The Warpship's shields were failing fast, and it's pulsearray had taken hits and was going to misfire any salvo now. He ordered it to fold out to the heliopause, a few hundred AU away. That ought to be plenty of breathing room. The Warpship's captain detonated 5 wings right (which were already hideously damaged) before leaving, to provide cover. With luck, the Naarad would miss its exit in the confusion. He turned to the fleet listings. So far, he seemed to be winning. Time to kick some exoskeleton. If any of these ships turned out to have crews, he'd have his hands full preventing his men from snacking on the remains of the insectiond Naarad. Ah well, he hadn't won yet. He might well have to run for it if any more aliens showed up.

Darkk immediatly cleared his thoughts. This was no time to get distracted. Time to continue the favorable momentum by every means possible.

------------------
Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

Perneas moved the Prometheus as fast as he could, trying to weave his away amongst the enormous debris field that now covered all of nearby space. With primitive weapons and no shields to speak of, the naarad drones seemed to be ignoring him for now. That would soon change.

'Are we in range yet?' Asked Perneas to his Targeting officer.

'Almost sir.'

The Warpship, had just escaped the grasp of the Naarad Asssault units, who were confused as to why they were picking up it's power source travelling away from them, when quite evidently it had been destroyed in an explosion. The buzzed around it's wing remains, chattering to each other in AI code. The destroyers who were firing at them, were getting lots of free shots.

'In range,' Said the officer. 'I have begun firing the neutron missiles and railgun at the nearest Assault Unit.'

This was true, as above the viewscreen, the missiles were arcing towards the battlefield, leaving trails of bright red smoke. Then, a deep rumble sounded, and the railgun's kicked in, spurting hot lead at the assault unit. It shimmered slightly as the missiles and rails hit it.

'We have no way of telling how much our weapons are affecting it sir.' Said the officer. 'But the shield does seem to display a lower energy level. I will program the computer to recognise this.'

'Very good.' Said Perneas, half distracted by the brilliant explosions his weapons were making. He had never seen a ship withstand so much fire.

As if a common resolve had been reached, the Assault Units broke off from searching the ruins of the vessel, and started heading, every single one of them, for the Prometheus.

'Uh-oh.' Targeting muttered.

The ships were approaching very quickly. In their previous stationary positions, Perneas had forgotten how fast they were.

'Helm, turn us 180 degrees around, I want this barge away from those ships!'

The ship kicked in with all it's RCS thrusters, and turned around, building up the inertia for acceleration.

But it was too late.

The Naarad ships, caught the Prometheus' engine, when it was facing them, with a direct hit from an anti-matter ball. It exploded in thousand of shards, and the lights on the Prometheus flickered once more.

'We've lost our engines.' Pronounced the chief engineer. Perneas waited for the killing blow, but it did not come.

The ships broke off and started hammering the destroyers, all except one, which stood guard over the broken Light Cruiser. Just then, a carrier jumped very close, and deployed a couple of fighters. The carrier then dragged the Prometheus into it's now freed up docking bay. Perneas now imagined what it would have felt like for Dean Lockwood, being dragged into the Prometheus.

All light was blocked out, as the docking bay doors closed over the Prometheus. Perneas wondered if he had a torch nearby to get. Then fell back as the carrier jumped into lightspeed. It must have been quite a long distance, as it continued for several seconds. Then with a jarring crash, they stopped.

All was silent.

The Pfhor Corvette dropped out into the midst of the battle, rolling to one side to avoid a surge of plasma. Delta hadn't seen the fight until they were in the system, and when he did see it, wouldn't risk flying through it at hyperlight.

"Computer, initiate autotargetting turrets. Target:"

He paused, looking at his displays. Soon he identified the Vylae, who he had at least heard of, and the ships siding with them. He identified them on his console as Team Alpha. He identified the other ships in-system as Team Beta.

"Target: Team Beta."

With that, as particle beams began to lance out from the Corvette's hull, Delta spun into the midst of the battle, still unsure who it was that he was fighting.

------------------
High Commander 8 Lightnings of Tetrik V
Also known as Captain Delta Farron.