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We'll keep the vessel.

Irwin thought as he prepared to order it's infusion back into Mercinim space.

We'll keep it and won't lose it ever again.

He had finished primary negotiations with the Fortinbras representative. It was a nice indeed, that Gomor Entz was the only survivor. A crew might have conflicting stories to tell...

And what would Gomor Entz say anyway? He wasn't sure. He was under orders to say that he was a privateer. If so, it would be quite a death sentence to admit it. Non-Star would demand his return. Or worse, the Fortinbras would use truth-drugs...

He considered his new options, a little less difficult than his last, now that the main danger - a Mercinim vessel falling into enemy hands, was past.

Perhaps he could continue negotiations for the incognito return of the captain? He tried to think up some plausible reason. The captain had confidential Mercinim information. And hey, he did. Too much of a security risk to have him 'executed' anywhere but in Mercinim space...

'Contact the Fortinbras representative.'

'Sir.'

The image of the representative appeared on the holoviewer.

'I'm afraid that I must ask for a revision to the original agreement. I have received information from high command. Apparently, the rogue captain was in possession of top-secret information. We understand and value your word - but we must, for the safeguarding of our military secrests; demand him back.'

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

The Imperial Council reviews it's timetable every quarter-cycle (cycle = year). The chairman of the Council, traditionally Bandiyardnay, stood up.

'Item 1. Spies report an increase of activity in the O-Force, and the Arc Pluris...'

The reaction was decidedly bland. He moved on.

'Item 2. Rumours of a coalition between the governor of Kentag and Pajjiro.'

'Despatch a half-fleet to investigate. Agreed?' Interceded another councillor.

'Yes. Do so.'

'Item 3. Irwin Romal's invasion force...'

He put down the pad a moment. And eyed the councillors.

'Are we ready for a war with the Non-Star league?'

'I don't see why not.' Said another military representative. 'They're just one star system. There are no administrative problems there. It's relatively empty of resources yes, but adding the population of Earth to our tax base...'

'Besides. Earth has been traditionally a barrier between us and colonisation of the galactic edge. I don't see why we shouldn't take it over. Or atleast reach some agreement.'

'So you're prepared to have a war with the Non-Star?'

He paused a while. 'Yes. I am convinced we'll win such a conflict. Our fleet is no more than 1 parsec away from the nearest Mercinim outpost.'

'But we'll keep an eye on the O-Force and Arc Pluris.' He ended.

------------------
There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

The transport had arrived, with the fleet taking up positions about it. Each of the fleets from the two nearby empires had also formed up near the transport, and were following it to Rondal, the nearest Fortinbras planet. The Rabid Elephant was tailing the convoy from far enough away that the Mercinim and League ships couldn't detect him, although the Rabid Elephant was automatically broadcasting its position to the other Pact ships. Two of the copies of the Elephant had pulled up with him. They were getting extensive use in this area at this time.

Shortly after this whole group of ships had started off, the Mercinim General made his proposition. It seemed like a sincere request, and the reason was good, but Mag didn't trust any of these people.

"Give me about ten minutes to think about it, k?"

"You are allowed ten minutes to make a decision."

The screen switched off. Pete, the gunner, spoke up. "I think he's lying, cap'n. Not sure, but I think so." Pete was good at sensing body language.

"I see. So there's a good chance he's lying, but we can't be sure." Mag thought about it for the ten minutes. He quickly came to the conclusion that he'd have to decide on something that worked fine if that Irwin Romal was or wasn't lying. Hmm.

By six minutes, he'd made up his mind, formulated his speech, and began memorizing it.

After ten minutes were up, Maria opened a channel with the flagships of the Imperial and League ships, as well as all other Pact ships. "Well?" asked General Romal.

"I've decided on the following. The most important of which is that this 'Gomor Entz' will be questioned on Rondal, as planned. No drugs, no violence, no threats, no tools. Mr. Gomor will not be allowed to exchange any objects (datapads, for example) with the inquisitors. We'll do a 'coin toss' to determine who gets to do the questioning first, and the flagships of each of your fleets will be the only non-Fortinbras ships to accompany that transport. You've got five minutes to comply and all that bit."

The Non-Star commander was slightly annoyed, and the Mercinim commander looked upset, although he was willing to accept the terms.

Soon, the two fleets split off from the convoy, and headed for their respective empires. The transport and Pact fleet pulled back behind the flagships to rendesvous with the "elephants", as that ship class was now commonly called, and the Pact fleet headed off. The convoy now consisted of the flagships at the lead, and the transport and three "elephants" tailing them.

------------------
"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

Interesting. Thought Gomor Entz. But what happens to the prisoner after the inquisition?

He considered. If the terms had been any worse, he would have decided to just simply open fire on the Elephant and make off with Gomor. Interstellar wars not included.

Besides, Gomar could lie his ass off to both parties and there wasn't much to be done. A moral high ground was almost irrelevant in such circumstances. This did however, delay any invasion. Bother. Gomar had better win an important battle or something.

---------

The Non-Star League won the toss, and the inquisitor on behalf of the Admiral of the Non-Star league filed in.

'Are you a pirate?'

'Yes.'

There was a mute silence around the room.

'Are you, acting behalf of orders of the Mercinim Empire?'

'No.'

There was another pause.

'Why were you in a Mercinim cruiser?'

'To better destroy Non-Star freighters.'

'Why Non-Star freighters?'

'Because they were nearest to where I commandeered the ship.'

'Why did you commandeer it?'

'To destroy Non-Star freighters.'

There was another, considerably longer, pause.

'Are you lieing to us?'

'No.'

And so it went on.

--------

The Mercinim investigator took considerably less time.

'If you are guilty of piracy, under Mercinim law, you have the right to demand where you are to be death-tried. Where do you wish to be tried?'

'Within the boundaries of the Mercinim empire, at an established court.'

'That is all.'

---------

With Gomor Entz and his small, insignifact personal items returned to the representative of Mercinim, Irwin Romal allowed himself a small smile. There was a little pain to that, a bit of wasted time, but now Gomor Entz was to be tried and released over Mercinim. Obviously the others could see through the deception; it was laudably done though.

He now contacted his fleet.

'Everything ok General?'

His 3 star general nodded.

'There is a great buildup around Pluto on the Sol boundary. Atleast 50 capital vessels, we're unsure of the others.'

'Ok, call for reinforcements if you think you need some.'

'Right sir.'

---------

Gomor Entz was met by Irwin in the belly of the flagship.

'You had better be worth it. We're going to call you Defwu Nze from now on. You had better like the name.'

Gomor Entz nodded, not willingly to defend himself.

'Oh yes, please Gomor, be worth it. I really mean that.'

Then he left.

------------------
There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

(Gomor seems to want Irwin's job. This time at the top of your post.)

During the trial thing, Mag and the crew went for a dinner break. The Rabid Elephant was being refuelled. They ended up at a diner. They were becoming increasingly popular, at least in Fortinbras.

The food was so-so, although the price was low. As they were leaving the diner, talking about the conflict between Mercinim and the Non-Star League, a woman wearing a Fortinbras military shirt walked up to them (Fortinbras didn't actually have a full uniform, as they figured a shirt could point out military personnel, and it was much cheaper than mass-producing full sets of clothing).

"You are the crew of the Rabid Elephant, correct?"

Pete replied. "Yeah."

"Which of you is Captain Steelglass?" Mag did a little wave-type-thing, and she handed him a datapad. "Catalina Sinestran. I'm supposed to go with you on the mission, sir."

"Don't need to be all formal, ya know," Mag replied as he took the datapad. It requested an iris scan, so he pointed the scanner at his eye. Not like in the movies, where they stare into the scanner from less than a centimeter away. Just pointed it roughly in the direction of his eye, and it did its little scan. After it had verified who he was, a briefing opened. "Looks like we'd better head out to the Elephant, fokes."

As they were heading to the ship, Pete began making a pass at Catalina, and Mag read over the briefing...

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

As soon as the Mercinim ship carrying Gomor Entz cleared Rondal's atmosphere, the Rabid Elephant lifted off and began tailing it. Catalina was a spy, and her mission was to investigate this Gomor Entz and see what the deal was. One of the copies of the Rabid Elephant, the Crimson Scimitar, was on a similar mission, but following the Non-Star ship. Technically, it was none of the Pact's business, but most spy missions are into things that are none of the spy's country's business...

------------------
"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

[This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 05-22-2002).]

[I'll do a longer post later, no time. I'm going away until Sunday (And leaving right now), would somebody be kind enough to take over my character till then? Thanks.]

This is it. The first raid into Non-Star territory. The speed of their ships outmatched even the fastest fighers, and there was no turning back. The plan was to find a capital ship with a fighter bay, fly in, plant explosives, and fly out. With as many ships as possible. This wouldn't be easy.

"Team 3, commence entry!"
"We're in position! Planting charges in 3...2...1... Ready!"
"Right. Team 2? Team 2??
"¥¥¥¥. We're going in after 'em."




------------------
Got l33t?

Mon De'Dra was a worker in the great metal city of Chakroy. He had seen his grandfather die in the mines when he was 6, and thought it was the most terrible thing he would ever see. Now, he knew he had seen far worse things than he could ever have imagined as his grandfather was blasted with an energy pistol.

The masters over Chakroy were a cruel bunch. He was a servant in the upper levels of the grand palais for the Merchant-rulers of the trade combién. When the robo-genejacks replaced the human miners, great numbers of people on the planet (population 21 billion) were deemed unncessary. They were thrown out. A few lucky ones were selected for their good looks, manners, and now indulged whatever might please the rulers.

So he had planned, for about 9 years when he heard of the revolt of the population on the outlying world of Cho'Natil. That the revolters were assisted by the rebellious governor was no matter. The fact was, rebellion was possible.

He waited with a fusion cannon. Smuggled in with his life savings from a merchant. Whether he won or lost, the merchant would probably be found out and tortured in Bandiyardnay.

He came out of the shadows and fired his weapon at a sudden at the streaming procession of trade delegates walking towards this great white tower that loomed before them. It was so high it breached the metal sky of the city, stretching out probably to the uninhabitable atmosphere. He started firing and didn't stop.

Bullets, energy pellets, or just energy (he didn't know how the thing worked) rained out a spew of alteration towards the delegates. The alteration? Turning them into so much bullet holes that there was less man than air. He had little time to savour the great joy of the attack.

A troupe of body guards, and snipers stationed on the tower had turned around and pointed their weapons at his shoulder. Aiming not to kill, their computers automatically identified Mon at made minute adjustments. About 10 explosive tipped bullets slammed into him and blew his shoulder off, throwing the fusion cannon out towards the street below, almost empty of people. He found himself lying on his side, all movement impossible. He was in a pool of moisture and didn't need to be able to see the ground to tell it was from him.

Unfortunately for the guards now no doubt utilising the elevator to access his balcony, he had swallowed a suicide pill before attempting the assassination. He let himself slide into the abyss, just as they applied their medical technology to his arm in an effort to preserve him.

---[I'm developing my faction, not just my weapons]---

The Mercinim ship identified the Fortinbras ship as it began to cross into Mercinim space. That is, the station identified it. The captain of the Mercinim ship was not in the mood to stop off at a border station. And that border station, used for identifying hostile forces entering Mercinim, identified not one, but 2 ships entering.

The Mercinim cruiser was ordered to halt in empty space immediately. A cadre of light frigates left the nearest spacedock and headed towards the other ship.

---------

As it happened, the massacred trade delegates were the Arc Pluris. For perhaps the first time in about 50 years, they had made the diplomatic overtures towards trade. They did not receive the information that their delegates were massacred well.

After so much peace, and the population being so docile, the Imperial Council member could scarcely believe the reports floating on his holo-desk. It was unthinkable that his security forces could have let this terrible terrorist act occur. He would react, and react so that they, and the populace, knew how terrible a thing could happen.

He contact the most dreaded force in the Mercinim empire. It was not group of elite military starships, or a large army. It was the Internment Agency. In reality, it was responsible for the policing of almost all of the 400 or so worlds in Mercinim. It's method, where human life was as cheap as iron, were draconian in the least.

The Councillor hadn't received his response yet. He sent off a preliminary offer to the Arc Pluris diplomatic ministry.

--------
To: Arc Pluris Ministry
From: Imperial Councillor Helhunty
Priority: 1

I wish to express my sincere condolences on the part of the Mercinim empire for the tragic terrorist act which recently occurred within our borders. As a token of apology, we invite you to see justice done. Though the man in question has escaped with death, we will punish his fellow murderers. You may feel free to attend as we massacre the population.

Once again, our apologies,
Helhunty
---------

------------------
There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

Hey everypone, I'm back. I'm sorry I took so long, now it's Tuesday EST, (Though it's PST time here,) but there were... delays. Somebody broke into our car, stole tons of money and lots of other things. We haven't fixed the window yet... Otherwise, I"m back, and I hope all's well.



------------------
Got l33t?

(Joveia, I'm curious as to how the station detected the Rabid Elephant. Does it just have really powerful sensors, or what? Not trying to get into an argument or flex my ship's muscles or anything, mind you, just curious and such.)

"Eh? They're stopping." Pete often made rather useless statements.

"They are," Mag replied somewhat sarcastically.

Catalina analyzed it from a strategic standpoint. "Sir, if they're stopping, it stands to reason that they most likely know that we're here. We just got inside Mercinim space. Either that, or they're meeting another ship here."

Mag was going to remind her of the formality bit when Maria spoke up. "Hey, fokes, I have a group of light frigates heading this way. Four."

"I see..." Mag pulled the ship back until the Mercinim ship was just barely within the range of their sensors. He wasn't planning on pulling out until he had to.

After about half an hour, the light frigates arrived. They began doing a sweep of the area around the Mercinim cruiser. They were faster than Mag had expected, and he was really having a hard time keeping his distance through all of their sweeping formations. Eventually, the four of them linked their sensors to each other, and had all four of their computers analyzing data from all four sensors, which essentially made their sensors much more powerful. Mag was at the edge of the Rabid Elephant's sensors, but their combined sensing power was stronger.

All four turned and headed towards the Rabid Elephant in a synchronized form, and a channel was opened. "Foreign ship: stand down immediately, or be destroyed. Do not attempt to run."

Mag knew that he couldn't run, even if he wanted to. He couldn't make tach before they would catch up to him. So...

"Maria, get a lock on those cruisers, and then open a channel."

"Right, Cap'n... ...okay, we've got a lock on them... ...channel ready, speak when you wish."

"I would like to request that you stand down, or we shall open fire." Mag had the Rabid Elephant drifting along the same direction that the light frigates were going. Essentially, a Monty Python, except that the Elephant was slower than its adversaries.

The light frigates did not slow down. Very well, they'd had their chance. "Pete, fire salvoes of six, alternating between the cruisers."

"Don't you mean frigates, Cap'n?"

"Yeah. The things that're about to kill us if we don't fire at them."

"Right." The missile launchers opened fire, with packs of six nova missiles going for each of the frigates. The frigates used their greenies for point-defense. It was only moderately successful, but, when combined with their 70% inception rating, meant they took little damage. And they were still closing.

"If you don't mind, Cap'n, I'd like to try another approach to all this..." Pete winked at Catalina. She rolled her eyes. For some reason, he'd never gotten the hint.

Mag's reply was pretty much to-the-point: "Sure."

"Aight." Pete switched the launchers over to firing alternating one and two missiles at a time (which meant it was very rapid, and somewhat difficult to stop all of the incoming missiles), and targetted only one of the light frigates. As Pete had predicted, the light frigate's gunner was unable to cope with the heavy stream of missiles, and the frigate started taking some very noticeable damage.

"Target only the engines. Quick." Mag didn't want Fortinbras getting in too much trouble with the Mercinim Empire. After a fraction of a second, the missiles only tracked the engines, which promptly gave out. "Slow it down with three missiles to the nose." The three missiles slowed the ship enough that it was drifting through space, losing ground on the Rabid Elephant.

Pete had a maniacal grin. "Same tactics on these other three buggers..." He fired on the next one. Again, the tactic worked. The frigate floated along, losing ground. Pete again fired on the engines of the third one. Once the engines had been mostly taken out, he stopped firing. "Uh, Mag, we have somewhat of a problem-type-thing, here..."

"Eh?"

"We're kinda outta missiles, and, uh, yeah... That's bad..."

"Oh, my. Bob, do you think that ship could catch us if it weren't already going so fast?"

Bob was the engineer. "I dunno. Maria, mind if I check the sensors?" Maria scooted back, and Bob hunched over her screen. After zooming in on the engines, he made his conclusion. "Looks to me like that thing can't do much better than a crawl. I might be wrong, but that's what it looks like."

"K, thanks." Mag pulled the FNS Rabid Elephant into a different direction, 90 degrees to the one they'd been drifting in. The damaged light frigate drifted right past them, unable to pursue. However, the fourth light frigate was still fully functional, and it pulled in on their tail.

"Right, we'll have to dogfight. Pete, shoot for the greenies. I'll mostly focus on keeping us out of its line of fire."

"Aye, Cap'n."

Mag pulled the ship around, and accelerated full-bore at the light frigate. Then he pulled the Rabid Elephant around so that its top was facing the frigate. Once they got within range for the greenies, he pulled up as he thrusted, bringing the Rabid Elephant around to the side, as well as keeping out of the light frigate's field of fire (to the immediate front) and keeping the Elephant's turret in a position where its firing arc could hit the frigate.

The light frigate pulled around, of course, and tried to get them in its sights, while Mag tried to keep out of its sights and in positions where Pete could fire. The dogfight continued thus. There were a few scary moments when they were under the full force of the light frigate's greenies, but the Rabid Elephant's armor held them off, if only just. Eventually, though, Pete had disabled all six greenies on the light frigate, rendering it firepowerless. When that happened, he tracked the sensors until they were also knocked out.

With the ship unable to track them or fire on them, Mag headed back to where they had been pursuing the NLC Cruiser. It had already left. Well, that sucked.

"Catalina, did part of your spy training include chasing ships that left when you weren't watching."

"Yes, sir."

"Could you take over for a while, then? At least until you find it again?"

"Very well. I need the sensor logs from between when we left the ship's vicinity and now. I also need the piloting controls." Mag hopped out of the captain's chair, and Catalina began looking over the sensor logs. There was a part that had a burst of radiation not associated with any weaponry being fired, and eminating from a source that was where the cruiser had been. She scanned the area for any remaining dust particles and exhaust and such, and found the direction the ship had.

After calculating its exact direction (just one or two degrees off and they wouldn't be able to find it again, due to the distances involved), she plotted a course, and the FNS Rabid Elephant jumped, and went at it's maximum FTL speed, hoping to find the ship it was chasing.

(Somewhat long, sorry.)

------------------
"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

[This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 05-28-2002).]

[Say hello to the new players! Don't think the NSL will go down without a fight.
Since I've tried all sorts of governments in these RPGs, I figured it was high time I tried a theocracy. It's gonna be nice and cultish. Earth, is, after all, center of all major human religions at the moment. Pharris will be joining it, or at least he said so.]

Bishop-Admiral Denver surveyed his forces at Neptune command. He had been getting many reports from Pluto command of various pushes that could be construed as hostile. In particular, it was suspected the barbarian heathens of Mercinim were preparing an invasion. They'd never get past, with right on Denver's side, but it still payed to be prepared.

Neptune command was responsible for weapondry and shield research, because only those who help themselves are helped. Today's test would prove once and for all that that bunch of heathens couldn't stop their divine might.

"Commence primary test."

Laser batteries on the station fired at the massive ship sitting next to it. They fired again, and again, but the beams merely curved past. Railguns fired next, but the projectiles also merely curved away.

"It appears that the holy aegis system works perfectly."

"Yes. Tell Mars, Luna, Ceres, Earth, and other manufacturing zones to get on it. We need these on our carriers and other big ships."

Denver looked at the sensor board. "It seems like a battle test will come sooner than I thought. A pirate that we believe to work for Mercium is in the Oort cloud, and we can catch it."

The great secret to the speed of the NSL forces was the fact that bigger ships could be made to go just as fast if they had room for an engine porportionally large. Because they had little real need for FTL, NSL ships used the biggest and most powerful realspace engines reasonable.

Strap on boosters didn't hurt, either.

The Mission-class carrier Paraguay boosted towards the enemy at speeds mind-boggling for many fighters. Of course, ships this size had hideous "jerk", or rate of change of acceleration, making it almost impossible to stop quickly. Denver, commanding the carrier, didn't care. He didn't have to stop quickly, just get near the enemy.

Then the field did the work. The deflection field was a fairly new technology, but that wasn't the field in question. The field in question was a certainty field. It used string theory to do what many scientists in years previous had considered unthinkable. It could lower plank's constant. Thus, p-tech in the area of the field was totally shut down. For this reason, NSL ships never relied on traditional interception fields, instead using tesla fields and similar, but more advanced systems, like the "Brimstone" field.

But the enemy ship DID rely on an interception field. The certainty field, known to most as the "Shroud of Truth", had an immense range. It had to, in order to keep the railgun slugs from being brought down.

These weren't ordinary slugs, though. They were specially coated, so they would be "charged" by the certainty field as they moved through it, and even at the fringes they could lower an interception rate to pretty much nothing.

Denver sent one message to halt. The enemy ship returned an image of a finger. Denver said a small prayer for the souls of the enemy, then gave the order to commence firing. The 4 bow tubes unleashed their 700mm slugs at high reletivistic velocity. Thrusters made in-flight corrections, and the 7 ton slugs were virtually undodgeable at 77% light speed.

Boom. Poor fellows never had a chance.

Denver used a gravity slingshot around a comet to get them on course for Saturn. He wanted to try ring surfing with the new shield. It would make it easier to deal with the bits of rock...

The Known Chaplain of the Quisition turned to Denver. "What are you doing?"

"I am conducting a stress test. Do you disapprove of the method?"

"Somewhat. It seems almost like a juvenile game of 'ring surfing'. 'Put away childish things,' and all that."

"Do you feel that it's not a valid stress test?"

"Have we not pelted it with rayguns? Have we not pelted it with railguns?"

"My brother, perhaps you are right. I will cease the test and report to high command."

"Thank you."

Denver sighed. The quisitors could be so rigid. Bunch of stiff-shirts.

The Paraguay pulled up to NSL HQ, left over from the old secular government that had been "shown the light" (or the airlock for the really stubborn ones) after the O Force broke off. Religion had been a great comfort to the people of Sol as their empire broke from them. Eventually the Church of the Beginning had gained control of the government.

Now they were holding an emergency meeting to discuss the recent threat from the infidels.

Most of the lay, or enlisted men and junior officers, thought these meetings were conducted by candlelight wearing cloaks. In reality, they took place in a fairly conventional room with lots of computer displays and holopannels.

Deacon Pharris of the Quisition presided. Nobody really had any objections, and if they did, they'd most likely be tried for heresy. Denver addressed the group first, outlining the new advances in deflection fields.

Then, it was time for Pharris to speak.

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

Deacon Pharris was a tall, thin man. He was slow and deliberate in his motions, and he possessed a stare that was carefully calculated to set people on edge. Deacon Pharris was an Exquisitor because he was superbly good at it. He didn't just know about the enemy, he Knew. He had an uncanny ability to predict enemy troop movements and battle plans. Some said it was because of the hours of pennance and worship he spent in the citadel chapel, others said it was because of his network of informers (of course they never said it out loud, lest a disguised inquisitor hear)

In any case, besides the fear, he was at least respected for being good at his job. It takes a very careful man to watch the heathens so closely without falling into their way of thinking, and of course noone could say that Deacon Pharris of the Quisiton was in any way like the heathens who now threatened the Church of the Beginning.

Pharris gently cleared his throat and then began to speak.

"Our enemies see us as backwater and ignorant. This is the way of the infidel. He thinks in lies and broken twisted truth. The Mircinian Empire now threatens invasion. We will not let this happen. We shall bring the crusade and the eternal struggle to them. We shall purify the heathen worlds with our cleansing light, and restore the heathens to their rightful place in the depths of purgery to await the judgement of the lord."


"The time of the seventh prophet is nigh. In anticipation of his arrival, we shall launch our crusade to the far stars and take from them what is rightfully ours.

'The time of heathens and the heretics shall come to an end. Then shall be the time for those of faith to take their rightful place among the stars.'

So it was written by the fouth Prophet Ashera, peace be upon her.

The Beginning is behind us, watching over our shoulders from eternity. He guides us and guards us, and leads us to our rightful place. So it is now. So we shall smite the enemies with our might, and bring our righteous fury upon them."

the crowd clasped their hands.

"amen"

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

Danielnma: I hadn't noticed.

Mag: How the hell did you detect my ship? Do you have especially powerful sensors or something?

Just to illustrate my point; no my stations/ships do not have great sensors. Let us say that 2 and 2 are the same thing, so we could both detect each other. The ship passed close to a station, which detects ships.

Darkk: Remember, all Mercinim ships are still in orbit around a station in Fortinbras.

It's 'Inception' fields.

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

The power of the Mercinim Empire (or atleasts 8% of it's complete firepower) was arrayed on the system in Fortinbras. The system, Moxovic'ch. It was abandoned (which made sure Mercinim had a decent reason for 'leasing' it to themselves.) And they had constructed their base on the moon.

That moon, that base, that commander, that office. Irwin Romal sat on his chair and chewed his communicator.

Irwin Romal was in trouble. He had received reports, very disturbing ones, that Fortinbras had made an appearance over the borders of Mercinim. Even worse, they had destroyed/disabled 4 Mercinim ships. This would seem like an act of war, except that it wasn't.

In space, war was either 1 of 2 things. An overwhelming attack, or an overwhelming attack combined with a discrete, undercover assault on the enemies communications. Otherwise it was Plausible Deniability. Oh what fun, to deny everything.

Fortinbras was waiting for a message, he could tell. Then they would deny everything. Should he send it at all? Hmm. He thought a moment. No. Don't be obvious. Don't do what they expect.

He'll pretend this incident never happened. The Mercinim forces will, and should treat this ship like something from another power altogether. They will annihilate, or capture. The manhunt was on!

He sent out the word. Mercinim ships would be posted at consecutive points in a ring around the entrey point to Mercinim space. They would be spread out in groups, with a coverage area of the entire area. Sensors forward, any breakthrough could be intercepted by atleast 3 combat groups. Dessies and cruisers, primed and ready for action.

Oh, he still had the Non-Star to deal with. They would prove a difficult adversary.

But they were just one system. One system vs over 300 hundred. On day of peace for them was of infinitely more value to the Mercinim Empire, now in it's heavy industralisation swinging forward to war.

----------

The Imperial Council debated on a few things. The first items came first, they met, they decided, the agents were despatched. Rinse und repeat.

The secretary for Bandiyardnay stood up, as was the custom.

'For various reasons, I would like my friend, Uomohoy to begin the session.'

Uomohoy nodded and accepted the friendly gesture. He stood up.

'Friends, we are on the brink of a new epoch.'

They waited expenctantly.

'My friends, look before you. We are Mercinim. The most powerful force in the Known Galaxy. Yet, for aeons have we been cut short of our true greatness. The acts of rebels, of evil, and insobordinate governors have destroyed our might again and again. You know, our former allies would always rebel, destroy us when we left our fleets. We didn't do anything. They rebelled from self-interest.'

The people in the Council were shocked. Who was this personal to be making idealistic speeches in front of Imperial Council members.

'Now, we need not cower any longer. Let me introduce you to our latest experiment.'

He nodded at the guard, and a cadre of men went forward and opened the giant and gold ornate chambers. Bandiyardnay was unmoved, the other stood up and angrily talked.

A few men entered. Their skin was black, hard. Their heads, bodies, were thick and large. Bristling with muscles. Their eyes were artificial. They were empty of hair.

Uomohoy surveyed the surprise with amusement.

'Let me show you how loyal our new citizens can be, our new soldiers. Excuse me, Yl-M P1.'

The man stood forward.

'Please, Council members, ask this man a question. On what? Gravimetrics, physics, starship combat, electronics.'

Bandiyardnay was silent until now. He stood up (the first rep. was called Himay.)

'Excuse me. Yl-M 1, what is the exact speed of a starship travelling with the mass of a ton using an anti-matter drive, early model NXC 78.'

'After 48 minutes.'

The man paused for a few moments. It wasn't as hard as it sounded. All you had to do was calibrate the acceleration mathematical formulae with the mass formulae, and know how fast an anti-matter drive went.

'38% of lightspeed, approx.'

He clapped.

'Uhh.' Uomohoy took the word of Bandiyardnay. 'Yes, that's pretty much it.'

'Now,' He continued. 'These clones are bred in groups of 3. So these men are all brothers.'

'P1, shoot your brothers.'

After the vulgar display, Uomohoy was pleased, Bandiyardnay was dubious, but rather happy, and Chakroy was confused and disgusted.

------------------
There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

(The Rabid Elephant is unusually stealthy, see. Ah, well.)

After about ten minutes, they caught up with the NLC Cruiser. It was heading deeper into Mercinim space. Mag suspected it was going to the capitol. He did some planning.

The Mercinim probably suspected one of two things about them, at the moment. Either that they had run, due to the moderate damage they had taken and the fact that they were reduced to a double greeny turret for armament, or that they were still pursuing the cruiser. As Bob kept selflessly advising, it was suicide to keep following that thing, and they should have gotten their asses out of there a long time ago. If the Mercinim also thought that way (and they probably would), they wouldn't send any more ships to catch them. But if they tried to catch them...

He'd have to be very careful. He doubted if they'd send any ships after them while still in warp, but they might have some sort of trap waiting for him in the cruiser's destination system. Before continuing with the mission, once they arrived, they'd check everything out carefully, to see if they could make it in and out without dying too badly in the process.

------------------
"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

[I said pirate ship. It was just employed by the Mercinim. BTW, I'm going to assume that when you said elite, you meant it. Now to start the fun.]

John 124 watched the proceedings of the Mercinim council as a servent, one of the few considered "loyal" enough to be present. But they were wrong. John was an agent of the exquisition, and a fairly good one. The guards had searched him, but they did not think to look beneath his skin. Poor people, like the servents, could not afford elective surgery. Exquisition agents, however, came built in with a dazzeling array of goodies installed in their skin, many of them totally non-metalic and thus nearly undetectable. Bomb snoopers at the entrances did not expect his type of payload.

A burst transmitter under his chin sent a final report on the council to a small probe tucked into an asteroid. The probe would sent a burst signal, too brief to jam, to another probe in intersteller space. Both probes used FTL, so the report would be on Pharris's desk in minutes.

Now John had to consider what to shout. He settled on "Long live Cho'Natil!" It would certainly divert attention. He'd been very careful. No records would exist of his coming or going. He would begin to exist 1 year previously, when he gained employment as a servent to a high official. Now, he would cease to exist, as far as the Mercinim were concerned. But not alone.

"Long live Cho'Natil!" he screamed as he leaped over the railing. Automated guns tracked on him and began to fire. Below him, the scientists of the Uomohoy who had worked on the project turned up in horror. They had been invited, but they had not expected this. They seemed to John to cower in slow motion. Then the turrets found John's chest.

It wasn't getting shot in the lung that killed John. It was the fact that a supply of antimatter was kept in thin, semi-biological sheaths around his chest to prevent him from being taken alive. But the device could also be used to put heathens out of their misery.

The antimatter had a blast radius just enough to kill the scientists below him. The program would be continued, but he had setback the timetable at least a year, and provided the enemy with something more important to think about. They'd have to figure out how that antimatter got there in the first place. Rebels would be the first suspects, there were always many of them. The NSL would be the second suspect. In any case, they enemy would be very scared. They'd have to act faster.

And it was an open question who's side time was on.

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

[This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 05-29-2002).]

[Remember anti-matter would be the least-effective explosive imaginable, only using it's power via another process would make it effecient. Elite is a word for very well trained soldiers.]

The Mercinim Council was deliberating when the suicide bomber jumped down and blew the living daylights out of the science council.

'Cover!'

The explosion killed all of them except the one on the edge of the science table, who received burns over his face and hands. The guns had stopped, and medics rushed in on a signal. Bandiyardnay and Chakroy looked at each other, and their face was wreathed in surprise.

The captain of the Internment Agency ran up to Bandiyardnay and saluted.

'Sir, we have been infiltrated by a traitor.'

Bandiyardnay just stared back at the captain. The entire council on a sudden, walked out.

--------

Emergency News:
Mercinim Empire suffers Terrorist Strike!

Today at the Mercinim Empire's headquarters, Bandiyardnay, the Imperial Council was infiltrated by a rebel spy who attempted to assassinate the members of the Council. Fortunately, no one was injured, but the Minister for Bandiyardnay has called a National Emergency, to deal with the terrorist crisis. It is believed that the terrorist group operating is part of the elite Cho'Natil Insurrectionist forces, who rebelled 9 years ago. Evidence suggests this grouop has spies and agents in many corners of the Mercinim Empire since it's overthrow, making it the most dangerous and fearsome group inside of Mercinim space. The Minister has assured the people he will do everything he can to avert future terrorist strikes, and crush the terrorist attackers.

---------

Emergency Council Session.

Members present: Himay (Bandiyardnay Council Representative), Axar, Praris, Borsch, Nicomodia, Uol, Olnichaedia (Uomohoy Council Representative), Yreles, Iximo, Iximox, Terriv, Varrison.

Away: Qaustor (hospital)

Dead: Saan (Uomohoy Council Representative), Iok, Olpus, Wawaieri, Ril.

Minutes accepted by the temporary Marshal.

Results of the Meeting:

Investigation of the anti-matter explosion proceeding smoothly. Evidence suggests rebels supplied by an advanced culture (most likely the Non-Star League or O-Force) or directly executed by the NSL.

War on the NSL. The Empire is now in a stronger position thanks to the terrorist attack to carry out a war on the aggressors. Suggestions of more terrorist attacks sponsored by the Imperial Council accepted. Terrorist attacks against the following planets will commence: Beven 4, Trepar, Havia, Tar 7. Governors will be assassinated.

More information pending.

Non-Star War is proceeding with all possible haste. Bandiyardnay is sending 20 cruisers, 30 X-Destroyers, and 50 Light Frigates to complement Irwin Romal. Advances to begin pro-active approach in scouting out the territory. May consider yourself free to fire on NSL ships. Open war status considered: Declared.

Uomohoy is expected to replace it's Council Members, the project will receive a large amount of backing from Chakroy thanks to it's economic benefits. This is the second budget advancement for the project. Produce clones ASAP for active ship-board and policing duty.

--------

Irwin Romal was now in space, on board his flagship the Yer Avar, in the system. For this invasion, the Mercinim Empire had promoted 3 other Colonel's just to help him. The forces arrayed were now extremely large.

He reflected with sorrow that the search the Fortinbras ship on Mercinim's border had now been called off, pending the more important 'search'. A weakness in the NSL.

Altogether, he had 31 cruisers, 53 F-D's and 100 light frigates. That should be enough to annihilate practically any fleet without a good inception rating. The new burners are the favourite of any Mercinim admiral now in the navy. A new tactic was fast emerging where you simply sprayed the entire battlefield with a low dose nuclear hydrogen bomb. Then fight. Even if they won, you could guarantee a very sick enemy.

He wondered how Gomor - Defwu Nze was getting on.

-----------

Defwu Nze debarked on the Red-class battlestation over Bandiyardnay. He left the ship amid the solemn turns of the engineers, as they were filing out of their shifts. They looked at him as they stream past, neither knowing who he was, or why he was there. He returned their gazes. Something was communicated between them, and he smiled.

He was alive! Hooray. Another day on the battlefield survived.

He walked along under his escort to the debriefing room.

'Hello Defwu. That's your new name from now on.' (He was in Irwin's former office, now occupied by a smiling woman with a General's rank.)

'We're going to be logging your death in the archives, but don't worry. You'll instantly assume the identity of this Defwu. He was killed en route here, and his death certificate hasn't yet been ratified, so we'll just replace you with him and pretend he's recovered.'

She smiled.

'You're going to return to the border, and you'll have the possession of a Cruiser, once again. It's the MSS Eyrebird.'

He saluted.

------------------
There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

Mag set the FNS Rabid Elephant down. They had followed Irwin Romal to Aktonay, a planet devoted to the Empire's military. Catalina changed into some standard Mercinim clothing, and headed off. She had a datapad, so she'd tell them when she needed to get out of there, and what she found, etc..

Mag was quite tired. He had gotten up bright and early to go raiding (he ended up finding an O-Force freighter), then got moved to a new base of operations, went on an arbiter mission, and had shadowed a Mercinim cruiser to this planet, having a close fight on the way.

But there was more work to be done. Mag decided to get everybody going on stuff.

"Bob, could you start on those repairs?"

"What, you mean now?" Mag nodded. "You're out of your mind, Cap'n. But I'll get on it." Bob started working, muttering about crazy captains who fought when it was 4:1, wasted their ammo, got moderately damaged, and then infiltrated a military-based empire, and when the Mercinim catch us, just remember I told you so.

"Maria, could you go book us a room at a hotel? Hopefully one nearby."

"Right." Maria got on one of the ship's motorcycles and headed off into the nearby city. The Fortinbras Pact generally included one motorcylce per crew member on their ships, for when they were on planets.

"What are you having me do, Cap'n?" Pete asked.

"I need you to run off to the black market and get us another set of missiles."

"Ah. How do I get them back here? This cycle can't carry 360 missiles, you know."

"Hope the person you buy them from has some sort of transport."

"Aight." Pete hopped on his bike, and roared off. Mag started helping Bob with the repairs. Nothing major had given out during the fight, but many important things had been weakened or mildly damaged. Mag was looking forward to sleep.

------------------
"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

Pharris strode along the exterior window of the colony. This was one of the older, larger colonies, so it had no artificial gravity, only a spin. It roared through solar orbit halfway between earth and Venus, but at an opposing orbit. Deacon Pharris was watching the solar side. Venus was, in fact, just now eclipsing the sun. Barely. It was a dime-sized dot on the huge glowing ball of the sun. The windows were heavily tinted, but it still hurt his eyes to watch for prolonged periods. He turned away, contemplating what he had just learned.

as head of the exquition, he only reported to four men above him in the quisition. He thought carefully. If the enemy had such willing troops, it would be difficult to match their faith. Except, of course, for them...

Deacon Pharris thought for a moment, then walked from the viewing room towards the elevator, leaving the spinning starscape behind as he rode the elevator to the non-spinning landing bay. He boarded his shuttle and told the pilot where to take him, then went to his chambers to pray. It would be a long flight in the sublight craft, but he wanted to see them before they were called to duty.

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

[I chose antimatter because there's few real ways of detecting it. Magnetic fields that small are fairly hard to detect.
I bloody well know what elite means, I meant that I considered "elite" to be "very elite".]

[Notes: Heaven's Gate is a wormhole maker that does not rely on P-tech to form a wormhole from any location with a certain kind of transponder to another location. The second location's accuracy is inversely porportional to the distance from the source to the first location added to the distance from the source to the second location.

Defletor fields and Certainty fields can only be maintained for 7 minutes. Running both at the same time means there's almost no power for weapondry, and only one weapons system at a time can be used, aside from fighters.

And now a demonstration of those fields being used to maximum effect. Feel free to work on countermeasures, or look for a less advantagious situation (battles over 7 minutes). Note that at the moment only the Paraguay has a deflector field, although all carriers and crusiers have certainty fields.
]

Irwin Romal looked out the window. It wouldn't be long until fighting started. He hoped nothing unexpected happened.

Something did.

The massive blue flash of a NSL Heaven's Gate filled the window, and tinged his vision blue for the next few hours. Off to the side of the fleet, a giant NSL carrier sat.

Irwin knocked down 13 people on his rush to the bridge, although he didn't notice any of them at all.

When he got there, the communications officer shouted "We're getting a priority zero signal."

Priority zero meant 2 things and 2 things only. Declaration of war or surrender.

Irwin accepted the transmission. Denver appeared onscreen. "We of the NSL spit upon your craven attempts to cow us. Reap retribution!" Then the channel was cut.

Denver's ship immediatly raised both its deflector field and its certainty field. Then it fired its main engines. And started to turn. But it didn't stop firing its engines.

It did, however, start to fire its railguns.

The Paraguay careened through the enemy fleet like one of the horsemen of the apocalypse. Unable to raise shields, the enemy could do little but wait for the railgun hits to them. With the deflector field up, the Paraguay could weather almost anything thrown at them. Enemy ships colliding with the Paraguay glanced off the deflector field, with severe damage.

By the time Denver had expended every single railgun slug aboard, time was almost up. The gate formed, and the ship was gone.

But not forgotten. Irwin Romal looked out another window at his fleet. Over 1/4 of it had been destroyed in this horrible ambush, and another 1/6 had been damaged. Irwin Romal shook with fury. He must avenge this. But not now. His fleet's morale had dropped to zero. He'd need to regroup. Sol would not be invaded anytime soon.

In Sol, shipyards were working harder than ever. Mercinim's invasion had been beaten back, but not stopped. All the ships that could be had were needed. Additionally, refits were called for. Somebody had to find a way to fit in enough capacitors to run a field longer than 7 minutes.

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

I didn't understand that. Please explain in detail in the Info Booth.

------------------
There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

After they'd finished their various jobs, the crew of the Rabid Elephant had stayed at a Reinhoff hotel. Reinhoff was an international hotel corporation. Not a very good one, but hey, it was cheap.

Mag was woken up in the middle of the night by a ping on the datapad he'd been given. Screw it, he was tired.

*ping*

Bah. Mag slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes, some. People weren't meant to wake people up in the middle of the night after a long day.

*ping*

Mag started looking for the atrocious thing.

"Whoever's that is, turn it off," Pete said, in that slow, tortured way people speak in the morning.

*pingpingpingpingping*

Ironically, Mag was able to find it, easier, with the continuous sound. He grabbed it and flipped up the screen. It requested an iris scan, so he pointed it at his eye.

After it was verified that he was, indeed, Mag Steelglass, the screen went to the text communication section.

sir, it's catalina

if this isn't important, i'll kill you, you know that

that cruiser we caught up to after our little battle wasn't irwin romal's

eh?

they switched it in, to lead us away from him

tricky

that means there's a good chance they know we're here and are looking for us

right...

i'll try to meet you at the corner of willow and rage

ah. we'll try to be there, soon

be careful, and all that stuff

whoa, a lack of formality

my deepest apologies, sir

Catalina killed the connection, making Mag's screen go black, again.

"What was all that racket?" asked Bob.

"It was Catalina. We've gotta go."

"Was I right?"

"About what?"

"Are we in trouble?"

"Potentially."

Mag explained what she had said while they packed.
------------------------
They snuck on down to the ground floor, and started making their way out. Six guys stopped them in the lobby, each brandishing a pistol or a knife.

"Hello, foreigners. I'll just cut to the chase: set your packs down, and hand over the codes to your credit accounts."

Mag didn't have time, they needed to get out of here. "We don't have time for this, sir."

"Oh, and why should your needs be of such high priority?"

"Are we going to continue with this silliness or not?"

"I don't like your attitude."

"Zephyr."

Each of the four crew members of the Rabid Elephant quickly drew their uzis and opened fire. Less than a second of fire, and all six muggers were down. The guy who had done the talking managed to get a shot off before he went down. It hit Pete's arm. Pete swore.

"You aright there?"

"I don't think it'll be too bad." Pete was clutching his arm and looking to be in some pain. Bob tossed his pack down, got out two temporary wound patchers, and applied them to the entrance and exit holes the bullet had made. They automatically sealed the wounded area off, and began applying pain relief drugs. Bob shouldered his pack, again, and they headed to the street. The glass that made up most of the front wall in the lobby had all been shattered by the stray bullets.

They stepped through, not bothering with the doors. Their motorcycles were in the hotel's garage, which needed codes to be accessed. Mag put the codes in, and the door opened. They jogged over the the motorcycles, hopped on, and headed off.

Their first turn brought them face-to-face with a Mercinim city patrol tank. It fired its 50mm railgun at them. Mag and Pete swerved around it to the right, Bob and Maria to the left. The tank quickly turned and pursued. It was built for city combat - it was fast, maneuverable, small, and had just enough weaponry and armoring to make it nearly invincible to anything relying on standard handguns. Which was most things found in the city. The tank itself was faster than their motorcycles. This would be an "interesting" event...

------------------
"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

Deacon Pharris sat in the couch, being lifted and carried easily by two monks. The station was spinning to keep gravity in excess of four Gs, and the atmosphere was thin. The monks lived on a small, stubby ring, three miles in diameter, and a half mile across. that freewheeled in a low orbit over jupiter. The temperature fluctuated wildly over the station. It was one of the many penances that the monks had to go through.

They subsisted on foods that they grew, and they broke down waste by a series of biological water cleansing tanks. The monks, spent their days working their fields, studying in the libraries, and practicing combat. They trained hard to be both stealthy and powerful with their hands or with weapons. They disliked energy and projectile weapons, for a large part of their training involved using their resourcefulness to avoid being lowered to the use of unmeasured, brute force, but they were proficient with them nonetheless.

The life of a monk was hardship. They were separated from their families at a young age, chosen by the older monks for both genetic markers and for their performence during tests. Those that passed were sent through the most demanding physical and mental training that humans could endure. They were placed on a four gee, low oxygen habitat with temperatures that went from freezing to scalding over the course of the day, and where they were forced to live and work and study, for each monk had his specialty both on the field of battle and in the library. All monks knew the books of the prophets and almost all of their interperatations by heart. But beyond that, they each held the equivalent of high degrees in at least three areas of study.

This had been going on for generations, and the monks were often called by the septarch to deal with specific problems both those requiring delicacy and force, and the monks had always succeeded. It was what they did.

It was three hundred years ago, at the time of the sixth prophet, during the eight crusade, that the prophet had seen fit to bestow upon them their greatest gift... Louganis.

The monks were then given augmentations that gave them holy strength, and with it, they crushed the foes who threatened their faith at the time, and returned to their monestary.

They were given ferrous bones and enhanced nerves. They were given neural implants, and most importantly, they were given Louganis. The armor they wore gave them strength, speed and reflexes far beyond those of mortals. They were truly the paladins of the New Order.

The monks took these gifts as grave burdens, and as penance for being blessed with such strength, they each wore slung over their shoulders, six huge gold tiles from the roof of the old temple, each tile the weight of a grown man. Thus the Guardians of the Faith paid for their strength as they went about their lives on the monestary.

Pharris knew this, but he hadn't truly understood the nature of it until the two robed men, bent under the loads from their huge tiles, lifted him on his sedan chair and carried him easily onto the station. He was breathing oxygen from a mask to stay concious, and was wearing heavy coats, and was still cold, and was still being crushed into his seat so that he could not move.

He had merely wanted to see, but what he was forced to do now was experience. The men were huge and powerful. The more He saw them train, the more Pharris was sure that their small number would once again ensure victory for the NSL in the coming conflict. He had faith.

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

Me, pharris, darkk, had a talk the other day. We are going to close the RPG, and start a new one. Learning from this one's mistakes, and mistakes of RPG's across the globe, we have reached several undisputable foregone conclusions:

1) The RPG will be more fun if it's all the players allied against some huge, impossibly difficult to defeat enemy
2) There will be less of cap on land battleships.
3) If you don't understand what a land battleship is, don't come hollering to me about it
4) That point above is not totally relevant

------------------
There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.