Ambrosia Software Web Board: Chapter Six- amidst the ruins - Ambrosia Software Web Board

(Just keeping this thread from sinking.)

Y'know, it's probably a new chapter anyways. Why doesn't someone start one?

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Madness takes it's toll; Please have exact change.

[The RPG is pretty hosed (IMHO), so we've decided to write a decisive ending. Email me for details.]

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Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

The single Ishiman cruiser, all that was left of the expeditionary force Ishima had sent to Earth, fled from it's pursuers with it's FTL drives set to overload. It's shields were collapsed, it's weapons were offline. The port beam nacelle was on fire, glowing fiercly and leaving a thin trail of thick smoke.

Neither reason nor future applied to the captain of the cruiser. Just sheer, blind terror. He didn't care where the cruiser was headed, just that it was running as fast as it could from it's predators. It had all happenned so quickly... distortion... probing... terror! The three ships emerging from the clouds like zepplins. One moment the fleet was defending itself, the next, they had singled out the cruiser and... melted the fleet.

Meanwhile, trailing four-million miles behind the terrified and wounded cruiser, the predators gave chase, toying with their prey. A massive pronged tip on each of the three ships flew forward, leading a huge armored shell, entrenched horizontally down the sides, lined with windows and turrets for nearly fourteen miles long. Clinging onto the shells were three huge nacelles, the tips of which secured a massive energy cannon. At the utmost rear was a tetragonal formation of titanic engines, the such of which would have been used to propel minature planets.

The three dreadnoughts closed in for the kill, and with a single disruptor blast the cruiser was annihilated.

But then time reversed itself and the three dreadnaughts disappeared, because they had never existed in the first place. (NO MORE STARLANCES!)

[I've decided to ressurect RPG #2 (the immediatly post-Ares one), because things have gotten too damn boring on the boards. Be sure to read the others before jumping in.]


[Oh, this is a pseudo chapter break. The man isn't the man from before.]

Darkk woke up the next morning with a very odd message in his mail.
Dear William Darkk
So good to see you. I've always known you, but never met you. I've lived out your life,
but done very few things you have. I'd like to meet you at the attached coordinates.


The routing data didn't make sense. Almost like he sent the message to himself. Hey! It was using his private encryption scheme. Only DEF members knew it. He couldn't understand where someone would come up with this sort of thing and use it to send to him. Hmm. He would be at the meeting, and he would drag Sarah along, thank you very much.

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All around the 5 people, holo projections glowed softly. Behind the holo projections, a spectacular view of a nebula 30 light-years from the Phylydian empire provided additional glow. Except for the 5 people on folding deck chairs, the room was very dim, and the floor and ceiling indistinct. The walls seemed to be made entirely of glass.

Darkk sipped his drink, feeling the small tropical umbrella brush against his lip. He'd never had a drink with one since he left Earth on the Ares. It was a nice touch of nostalgia.

Across from him, a man with an odd, indistinct expression and a black cloak that would scream "cultist" in any other surroundings was sipping a similar drink. Beside that man, a young, very attractive humanoid woman was sitting, sipping a different type of drink, with the same umbrella. With the exception of the blue hair and the very large, straight (not very pointy at all) ears, she would be almost certainly human. Their daughter, sitting between the two, had her mother's ears, but red hair and eyes.

Sarah Darkk, sitting across from the woman and next to William, had finished her drink and was examining the umbrella.

The man set his drink down. "Fascinating events. Looks like fate hated you," he said

"I don't believe in fate," William replied.

"No wonder they call you crazy." said the woman, with a giggle to indicate it was just a teasing comment.

"I've seen species come back from worse," she said. As she said this, she bowed her head and folded her ears against the sides of her head. Her daughter did likewise. Sarah figured this is what that species does when remembering something painful.

"It does take some help, however. We had a very nice guardian angel looking over us." the woman said, putting her arm around the man.

"Heh. I didn't do it all," he replied. "But I agree, you can go far with a little help."

"We've got help. Wizr..." Darkk began.

"No, no. Compare that to the help we refer to, and you see the difference. Politicians, however crafty, are limited by the abilities of the governments and industries they control. Wizr is the fourth greatest politician I've ever heard of, but Ishima can't do what must be done," the man interjected. "Further, nobody else is willing to help you except Azakama, who can't help enough. I'll have a talk with her, but she'll mostly be useful as a helper, she can't do enough alone."

"What, pray tell, must be done?"

"Simple. Repopulation, and perhaps improvement."

"Improvement."

"Yes. By repopulation, I mean what I did. By improvement, I mean something like what my wife refers to as 'recruitment' but before the subject is born."

"So you want humanity to build its own replacement."

"That's too drastic a word for it. 'Next step' is a much more accurate term. All things evolve, and adversity speeds it. Humanity must change. It's entirely possible to move the currently living humans along with the next set."

"I'm beginning to agree with you."

"Then here is what you must do..."

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"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 11-01-2002).]

Dave waited, passing the time smacking golf balls on the driving range, and tending to the gardens. It was calming work, even when ACK could do it with his drones. The Barbarrossa was essentially self-sufficient, but Dave needed things to do. It was boring otherwise. He was anxious. Darkk had been gone for two days with only one message back indicating that he would be late. Dave had been ordered to stay out of the system, and Darkk hadn't given any of the signals that he had been captured in the message, so Dave was waiting. Just in case, however, he prepared the Andalusa, one of the many smaller vessels that the Barbarrossa carried for deployment. The second the 72 hours Darkk had asked for were up, Dave was going in to see what was up.



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

Dave's large ship entered the system, straining its jump drive.

Awaiting him there was a large, long, spindly ship painted gray, blue, and orange. Almost its entire length was covered with odd spiny and/or spiky projections. ACK piped up. "Tremendous energy surges are being detected. It is probably that a weapon capable of destroying this ship is being activated. Use of escape devices recommended."

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"Wait!!" Darkk shouted, "It's just Dave. No need for that."

The woman looked at Darkk, and the humming stopped. Darkk had seen footage of the ship in action. He'd rather face the UEC dreadnought any day. "Allright."

The girl looked at the ship. "I wanna go see it! Mr Darkk can meet his friend, and you can talk to more of the resistance daddy."

The man smiled. "Sure, dear."

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"Cancel, Dave."

Dave sighed. He hadn't been planning on abandoing ship anyway. He'd rather go down with it.

"Darkk has a message for you."

Darkk's face appeared upon a drone's screen. "Sorry about the scare. My host isn't the least paranoid of people."
"Who IS your host? The crazy guy who'd been sponsoring Levt?"
"No. This one values diversity, and sanity. However, he doesn't like the Sals much. He and Alexi have one thing in common, though: they come from outside our universe, and bring very bad-ass ships."
"I believe that, ACK says that thing can destroy a planet."
"It could create one, too."
"Wow. I'm not sure I believe that."
"It can do things you can't imagine. But that's not the issue. We're coming over for a bit of a chat."
"When will you get here?"

Dave's response was rather startling. Darkk, Sarah, a man, a woman, and a little girl appeared on the grass behind him.

"Wha wha wha..." he sputtered.
"It's really just like a jumpgate. Except smaller, and more accurate." replied the man.
"Safer, and less energy-leaking too." added the woman.
"Who are you?" demanded Dave.
"Explorers. We go, and we see. We do not directly influence. It is ultimately futile for one to rule many, and any attempt to lend influence would result in that." recited the child, as if quoting some sort of scripture.

"We wish to look around," said the man, as he, the woman, and the child began to levitate off the floor. "We shall return in an hour to discuss matters." With that, they floated off at impressive speed.



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

dreams...

I was walking down the dark street at night, although it wasn't really night because the sun was high in the sky blazing down shadows onto the sidewalk. Streetlights cast bloody puddles on the path. My feet trailed crimson footprints from passing through the tepid pools of light reflecting from pavement.

Where am I?

I'm in my hometown, because I've never been here before. That bagel shop down the street I remember buying breakfast from for 20 years as I walked this way to work. But I can't remember the name or even the taste of the bagels. I don't like bagels...

It's so cold here... where am I?

Bloody footprints follow me through the dark streets. Great crimson pools of blood spray as I jump through them. I can hear the crying of the dead.

What's going on?

I remember as a child playing in the playground in the rain. Slides slippery with the wet water falling from the sky. Jumping in the puddles, spraying my playmates with muddy water as we laughed and cried and laughed some more. Rolling around like little pigs I would wrestle them in the mud for hours on end. My mother was watching, watching us play. Little tykes flinging handfuls of mud at each other...
My mother?
Mother was watching us play. She watched us play as we rolled around in the blood puddles on the ground, spraying each other with bloody water as we wrestled on the playground. Flinging fleshy lumps of bloody glop at each other as we laughed. We laughed so much we thought we would die of it. But we only fell down, rolled around and laughed some more in the bloody rain.
This is not right... something is very wrong
Our games were simple games. We would have our little wars, and every so often one of us would die and add to the bloody mess the playground became. We laughed when one of us exploded into gory chunks. My mother...
I'm scared, mother!
As I continued down the street I passed a playground with hundreds of little children playing(?fighting) in the mud(?blood) of the playground. The hundreds of little children fighting each other and dying.
They are children! God, why are the children dying!?
Fighting and dying. Only, they aren't really fighting and dying. They're only playing little soldier. One day when they grow up, they can kill for real.
No! They shouldn't be doing this!
Grow up and learn to kill...
Stop! This can't be happening. Where am I? What am I? Mother, help me I'm scared! Where am I mother, what am I? This can't be real!
dreams...

I was walking down the dark street at night, although it wasn't really night because the sun was high in the sky blazing down shadows onto the sidewalk. Streetlights cast bloody puddles on the path. My feet trailed crimson footprints from passing through the tepid pools of light reflecting from pavement.

terrible dreams...



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"That was quick."
"Well you know, when you don't do it right it doesn't take as long."

"Rise and shine, Mr. Spann."
Spamo's eyes opened. The lid of the cryochamber moved slowly up, and the sides slid slowly down.
"Darkk?"
Spamo looked at the man in front of him. It looked like Darkk, but not quite.
"Somewhat."
Spamo considered. The build was slightly different, and the expression on his face seemed odd.
"I'm here to take you to William Darkk," the man continued. "My body's on Dave's ship. This is a hologram. My data probes can still fly the Outrun, though."

With that, Outrun lifted off, and headed for a the Phylydian jumpgates.

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"You know," the man said, "I tapped into your mind while you were in there. That dream reminds me of some things."
"What?"
"The first is the Great War. They cut the recruitment age all the way back to 15, and sent people as young as 10 to work in the factories."
"Why?"
"Because there wasn't a choice. 1 trillion people had already died. When a species fights for its survival, it does desperate things. It was truely horrible. In the end, though it worked out. In the end.
"Also, there was the reconstruction. Most the people under my direct command in the second Great War were grown in tubes, and barely weeks old."
"That's horrible."
"Desperate times, desperate measures. This isn't nearly as desperate yet."
"Thank god."
"Besides, that species was used to coming from tubes."
"Eww."
"Don't say that, I'm married to one."
"Sorry."

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The man, woman, and girl returned to Dave and the Darkks.
"Good to see you. This is a fascinating ship. Larger than ours, and similar in amenities. Although I don't have all of them simultaniously."
"Oh?"
"Like me, the ship is a shapeshifter. The living spaces are very easily rearranged."
"Wow."
"Now, Mr Darkk. I'm going to fetch Mr Wizr, and explain the options. Spamo will be here shortly."

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

Wizr returned to his office after two days of deliberations. The Legislature effectively divided the executive branch of the Ishiman government amongst seventeen different Trey'sh committee heads. This was all well and good when times were slow, but during crisis, making coherent policy on the large scale took many hours. Wizr was tired. The meetings had gone on for hours, mostly because he would not rest the debate while the legislature let Salril ravage the galaxy. The reestablishment committee did not have the ability to maintain any sort of large military force. It had many patrol craft, mostly cruisers and heavy cruisers. but nothing that could take on the Salrillians, so Wizr was stuck. He could take no preemptive action without deliberately going behind the back of the Legislature and declaring war on his own, something he would not risk. What he needed was independent help. He knew who to call, he just needed to-

Something was wrong. In the office. The desk. Too many reports. Wizr stopped and stepped back from his chair. He backed slowly towards the door watching the extra report lie on the desk. He knew he hadn't left it there, and noone was supposed to enter his office. He'd ask the guard outside... He was nearly to the door when the report burst open. Wizr had nearly been shot once in the past two years, and he didn't want to spend more time in the hospital. He dove to the door, but the pieces of the electronic book seemed to float and morph into a human form... Wizr didn't wait. His friends would know not to startle him. He pulled the small gun he hated carrying and levelled it at the chest of what looked like... Darkk?

That moment was all that was needed. In a second, the man was in close. It took the gun, threw Wizr onto his shoulder and dissapeared as Wizr yelled for the guards.

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Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee.
"I don't think I'm alone when I say that I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system."

Spamo gazed out the viewport on the Outrun as it coasted up next to a very strange looking ship.

"Interesting design. Homebuilt?"
"No, probably more accuratly described as homegrown." replied Spamo's enigmatic host.
Spamo arched an eyebrow at this. "HomeGROWN?"
"Yeah, homegrown. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."
"If you say so."

<><><><><><>

Darkk looked up from contemplating his umbrella is his now empty glass. I wonder if I can get free refills... and noticed a very perplexed and disoriented Spann standing on the lawn.

"Mr. Jackson Spann, returned from the dead at last!" cried Darkk as he embraced his old friend.
"Darkk?" sputtered Spann. "Umm... I was on the Outrun a second ago, but they didn't pull up to dock or anything, just kind of a...y'know."
Darkk nodded. "Yeah, it's disorienting isn't it."
"Very. Ummm, I'm sorry I'm skipping pleasantries but...well... why am I out of stasis so soon? Did you find the source of the transmissions?"
"I think it's being taken care of Spamo."
Spamo arched an eyebrow again as Darkk gestured to the surreal nebula-on-the-lawn type of place they were in.
"Oh. I see."
"Yes. Come on, let me get you a drink and we can catch up a bit, alright?"
Darkk motioned to a vacant lawn chair that wasn't there a minute ago. Drinks were on the bistro table too. Mmm thought Darkk. Free refills.

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"That was quick."
"Well you know, when you don't do it right it doesn't take as long."

Darkk was gone again, along with the other people who had boarded the Andalusa. Dave couldn't really place it, but in the few minutes he had seen them, he knew that something was wrong. Dave had been an operative for years, and so he knew how to read faces and body language, and these people's was totally off. He scratched under the bandages around the wound on his belly with his left hand, his right arm still in its cast. He was starting to get comfortable using his arm again, which was great, but he still got tired from too much moving around, his leg and abdomen got tired easily. He couldn't wait till ACK's medscans cleared him to go back into the gym. Until then, he would have to endure the boredom.

He looked out the huge windows on the Andalusa's observation deck onto the nebula, and the speck in the distance which represented the ship that Darkk was on. The Andalusa was primarily a cargo tug for the larger Barbarrossa, but it had a few ameneties, like a nice automated kitchen. Dave stood on his electronic cast and walked back to the lift. The inner crew area had droids to serve meals, THAT was comfort.

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

Spamo sipped his drink. "Sounds like a fairly interesting time while I was asleep. I guess I'm glad I had the rest though."

"Glad you enjoyed it." replied Darkk

Spamo sat up on his lawnchair and set his drink on the table beside him.
"Alright Darkk, now I have a few questions. Who are these guests that are taking such good care of us? Why are they doing this? What agenda are they following? Should we even trust them to help us out? What makes us think that they have the liberation of humanity in their best interest? What if they are just another force that wants to..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down there buddy. Try not to let paranoia get hold of you."

"You wake up from stasis dreams from hell to complete strangers and tell me you feel good in the morning."

"Point. But anyways, we don't have any proof that these caretakers of ours are hostile, or even opposed to your plight. They haven't told me anything direct yet, but I'm fairly sure that if we asked them they might just give us a hand. From what I understood from when I was talking to them before they were kind of like watchers that wander around dimensions keeping an eye on things."

"So, like sentinels to make sure things don't get out of hand?"

"Yes, that sounds like a fairly close estimate."

"They must've missed Levt on their last visit then."

Darkk chuckled. "Yeah, well I guess nobody's perfect."
Spamo favored Darkk with a chilly stare.
"Sorry."
Spamo grinned and shook his head. "Nobody's perfect. So if they are sentinels, and go around righting wrongs, doesn't it stand to reason that they'll help us out with liberating earth?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask them yourself."

"I intend to. It's time to get the ball rolling again and push the occupying forces from the old UNS territories. Humanity needs a homeland again, and I intend to bring them to it."

<><><><><>
OOC: Darkk, I don't know much about the new aliens that you have introduced but I hope that I managed to capture their projected intentions correctly. If not let me know so I can change it ASAP.
Also, everyone note the statement of purpose by Spamo at the end there. That's what I'm gonna do. Who's with me?

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"That was quick."
"Well you know, when you don't do it right it doesn't take as long."

[Perfect read, Spamo.]

"Quite correct, Mr. Spann," said a small, high-pitched voice.

The woman and child had entered. "My husband has gone to fetch Wizr for a meeting," said the woman, "and he should be back shortly."

"Father's shuttle will be here shortly."

"About now."

With that, the man and Wizr suddenly fell into the room. Wizr landed on his face, the man simpmly floated to the ground.

"Hello, Wizr," said Darkk. "I'm afraid our host here is a tad of a jokester. He has something of a distaste for politics."

"Hmmph." Wizr was not amused. "Kidnapping a person of my rank is a very serious offense, and moreover -"

"You shouldn't threaten what you can't. There is quite literally nothing within your power that can hurt me. And I have terrible retaliatory powers."

"How terrible?"

"Little one, please show this fellow what we mean. An explanation would be too time-consuming."

The girl looked at Wizr, and flicked what seemed to be a fine powder at him. Wizr felt an odd itching sensantion. Then his perspective took a violent pitch. He seemed to be looking at the cieling, but his body felt upright. He moved his hands up to his face, but he didn't see them. He moved them further back. All of a sudden, he could see them. A horrible realization struck him. His head had somehow migrated to his back. Then his arms bulged, twisted, grew suckers like a squid's...

"That's enough dear. We don't want to hurt or alarm him excessively."

At the sound of the woman's voice, Wizr's body snapped back into its normal configuration.

"Forgive us. My husband has no great love of politicians, with me as a notable exception."

"You're an EX-politician, thank you."

"Correct, dear." The odd smiles they wore indicated that this exchange was an old joke with them.

"H-h-how did you do that?" Wizr shouted, feeling genuinly frightened.

"Just a little nanotech. Not very threatening. Not very fundamental."

"I think it's threatening."

"That's your standard."

"I'd hate to see what you think is threatening."

"Anyway, we have a job to do. Believe it or not, I am here to help you - and Darkk, and Spann."

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

The man took a seat across from them. The other two strangers stood quietly behind him, listening.

"I am going to give you instructions, and you are to carry them out. I am confident that the tasks I have laid out are well within your capabilities, as I have already surveyed your current situation thoroughly. The politician has already arranged for the construction of a large space platform capable of supporting a large portion of the human population. This station, which is already housing what remains of the UNS fleet will now be used to house the next generation of man. From this station, you will stage the operations that will allow you to eventually move on Earth and liberate the space that was stolen from you. I will outline the steps you will take;

First, you must begin to extract humans from their current locations. Using the intelligence-gathering capabilities of Wizr and Ishimans, you will determine where the Salrillians have been sending the humans.

Next a one David Bowman's vessel will be incorporated into the DEF fleet and the DEF will take up the legitimate use of it as a private relief corporation to front for its use as an evacuation vehicle for humans living on the planets traded with. Dave will use his resources as an intelligence agent to infiltrate the salrillian planets and determine the whereabouts of humans on the planet's surface. He will arrange for their extraction aboard the Barbarrossa. These humans all must be accounted for in the ship's records to avoid suspiscion.

The eventual goal is to concentrate a large population of humans on the habitat station, all the while keeping military pressure on the Salrillians. What happens next depends on how well you perform. Is that understood?"

Wizr was keeping his opinions to himself on the matter. He looked to see Darkk and Spann's reactions.

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Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee.
"I don't think I'm alone when I say that I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system."

[This message has been edited by Trey'sh Maletena Wizr (edited 11-18-2002).]

Spamo listened carefully as the strange alien laid out the plan before speaking. He was supremely surprised to learn the existence of the station. It's use as a possible habitat for humanity was not even considered in the original construction plans. However, what he was saying made a lot of sense... in most ways.

"I like the plan" said Spamo after the man stopped speaking. "But I don't see the part that you are playing in this. UNS forces were unable to prevail against the Salrillian onslaught when they were at their height of strength. How can the now ragtag fleet hope to win? Earth can't be taken by guerilla tactics alone."

The man turned his gaze towards Spamo. "At the current state of your military forces, guerilla tactics are your best form of offense. As outlined in the plan, the station will serve not only as a military outpost and staging area, but also as a major habitat to serve the continuation of the human race."

"You speak as though the Salrillians would exterminate every human they could get their tentacles on if they knew what was going on."

The man shook his head. "Not in fact exterminate humans, but exterminate Earth. Despite the recent wars, occupations and relocations, Earth still contains the majority of the human population. The Salrillians, once backed into a corner could quite possibly leave Earth a smoldering cinder behind them, as a last act of vengeance for your uprising. To prepare for that possible eventuality, steps must be taken to preserve the human species."

"This is a dangerous line to walk." Spamo said. No one need speak the obvious: push the Salrillians too far, and Earth would be forfeit.
"Alright, first things first then. If we're going to begin a guerilla war, I'll need to get equipped again."

The man raised one eyebrow. "And that would be... ?"

"My ship, the Mariposa. She ought to be floating in the yards of Tau Ceti. That is, if nobody's moved her." Spamo turned to Darkk. "Will, I'm going to need my crew back. That is if it's okay with you."

Darkk sat up in his chair. "Uh, sure. Jack, you do realize that Tau Ceti is within Salrillian occupied territory."

"Right, I know that. So it'll be a little warm up mission to start the pressure on the Sals. I get my ship back, they lose some firepower, we get warmed up and get in a little practice. I haven't been a pirate for three years Darkk, I need to get back in shape."

The man spoke up from his seat. "Very well Mr. Spann. I am glad to see zest in you. Most previous species were quite grim about their situation. Your operation will be added. It will serve the purposes you stated. First however, you will visit the station. Your primary purpose is to command the remaining UNS fleet." The man turned and looked at Darkk and Wizr. "Any other questions gentlemen?"




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"That was quick."
"Well you know, when you don't do it right it doesn't take as long."

Captain Roberts sat down with his officers. His four lieutenants and their NCOs. He didn’t know what to tell them. The outlook looked bleak. The UEC was disbanded, the Naval Command destroyed. They didn’t have anyone left to report to, so the task force had taken jumpgates to the free trade zone and now were hiding out.

He hated being shipbound, because here, he was helpless. His company might be one of the most powerful infantry companies in the universe, with their Ishiman-built armor and Elejeetian weaponry, but aboard the UES Terry-Burke, cut off from the fleet and pursued by the Salrillians, he and his men could do nothing except watch and wait for news. The problem was that noone would grant the former UEC military personnel amnesty. They were hated wherever they went, because of the policies of the former government.

Roberts looked at his officers. They were war-torn and weary. Six years ago, they had been the best infantry company in the galaxy. They had battle-hardened and ever ready. Now they were soft, and their morale was abysmal. There was nothing to fight for, and no way to fight against the enemies they had. Roberts hadn’t walked on solid ground in two years, hadn’t felt anything but artificial gravity or breathed anything but piped air for twenty four months. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to out, but he saw no way out, and he knew his troops probably saw things the same way.

Even worse, he couldn’t find anything different in the ship’s crew. His men had all fought in the Ares Campaign, or in the resistance from Lelande and Tau Ceti. These men were different. The UEC crewmen were reclusive. They had separate quarters and mess halls than the marines to begin with, but in the two years that he had been aboard the UES Terry-Burke, he had had as little as ten conversations with the captain and officers, despite his repeated attempts to establish a working relationship with them. They treated the former UNS Soldiers as cargo, despite the fact that he and his men had fought alongside them to defend the Earth from the Woven onslaught. He looked up at his officers, who were eating quietly and despondently. He needed to do something, he was their commander. The question was, what?

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

The UES Terry-Burke glided past an uninhabitable world. All its systems were on minimum, as it needed badly to conserve fuel. It had been orbiting this star to refuel its tanks from bussard collectors, but the Terry-Burke was a big ship, and it was taking a long time.

On the bridge, the captain was snoring with his cap on his face. Suddenly, the ship's hull transmitted a loud clang to all points of the ship. The captain leaped awake. Damage control indicated something had struck the ship without causing damage, but sensors picked up no objects nearby. The chief engineer reported that the bussard ramscoop was working, but not sucking in anything. The captain decided to fire the engines, but when he did, he heard the sound of metal straining reverberating through the ship.

Then, the outer door of an airlock opened. Sensors recorded pressure on the other side, but there shouldn't be anything on the other side. The captain was puzzled, but if they were being boarded, that had a very well-defined response.

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Roberts looked at the comm panel. "What do you mean, boarders? There isn't a single ship out here."

"You heard that rattling and clanging? Something's latched on, but we can't see it. Engineer says it must be bigger than our whole ship."

"Great. Salrilians?"

"Donno. Nothing's come through yet. Head to airlock #2 and get ready."

In 3 minutes the 76th space-moble was arrayed around airlock 2, some immediatly in front of it, and some in the corridors around it. They were packed in, waiting for whatever would come through.

The locking mechanism began to slowly turn. The soldiers tensed. Anything could come out of the door...

The locking mechanism finished unlocking. The door swung open a crack. A small, human flicked out and waved. The soldiers moved their fingers slightly off their triggers in shock. The door finished opening, and there stood a small human girl with red hair and dark sunglasses, wearing an odd blue dress.

"What the heck are you doing here?" was all Roberts could manage to sputter, he was so surprised to see her. That was the last thing he'd have expected on the other side of the door.

The he noticed the ears. They weren't against the side of her head and round like a human's, but parallellogram-shaped and extended perpendicular to her head.

"Ok, what the heck are you?" Roberts had seen many species of aliens, some he would be willing to give a chance, and some not.

"I am an enhanced human."

"Enhanced by who?"

"The Vertakk Bureau of Military Research, which is a human organization, and ShadowTech, which is a human corporation."

"I've never heard of those. You're lying!"

"You'd never heard of Alexi a few years ago."

"Yeah. But you're not human."

"Didn't you listen to what she said?" A man wearing an unknown military uniform drifted through the airlock into the artificial gravity field. He appeared tall and thin, with short black hair, gray eyes, and odd grayish skin.

"And who would you be?"

"I'm a sentient species rehabilitation specialist."

"From?"

"About the same place Alexi is. Not quite, but close. About 327 kiloTuntiens"

"What the hell is a "Tuntien"?"

"It's a unit of measure for the space between universes. Although progression is not linear, there is a direct porportionality between the number of Tuntiens between your universe and your destination univers and the time required to arrive there. If you don't care about porportionality, you could use meters. In any case, I am from a universe distinct from this one and Alexi's home universe."

"No offence, but I'm not trusting you too much here."

"Such a shame. That makes my work harder. Perhaps we could speak with your commanding officer?"

------------------
"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 11-23-2002).]

"I don't trust you. I'm going to make sure you never warn your Salrilian masters!"

"We do NOT work for the Salrilians. What am I supposed to do to convince you of that?"

"Destroy them all!"

"Sheesh. I don't do stuff like that. I'm not a psychotic extinction machine."

"Just like those UNS scum."

"Why yes. That sounds about right."

"I'm gonna..."

"What? Shoot me? I'm tired of messing with you. You're one of those eugenic fools from Alexi's universe, aren't you?"

"I am a follower of his glorious vision. Do not speak of him in a disrespectful manner."

"Sigh. It's time for plan B."

Roberts was standing behind the man while he listened to the conversation. "Plan B" didn't sound too good. He raised his rifle and fired a burst at the man. It seemed to splash into his body and be absorbed, like a stone into water.

A large blash of black-tinged wind emanated from the man. Roberts tried to fire a second shot. Then he heard the laugh. It seemed to come from everywhere. Or was that nowhere?

Roberts could feel his grip on the rifle weakening. Then he set it down. Why couldn't he control himself?

All the crew and passengers on the ship walked calmly into the opening of the airlock.

The man smiled. He'd take them to the station, and let Spamo handle them. He'd never been good at deprogramming without harm.

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

The Salrilian Ship-of-the-Line S.N.S. Burning Glory slowly rolled in it's orbit over the Salrilian Moon. When the U.N.S. Ares had first sighted it, I had manned the weapons, preparing for a firefight, but for the first time in my "Career", my travel had not brought me into combat. It was a welcome rest to see the burnt-out wreck on my screen... but it wasn't alone.
A veritable ring of Debris was circling the Pale Moon... Some vessels were clearly Salrilian while others were not. My eyes searched for some identification as I tried to remember how to read the alien scripts when I saw a plate on the prow of a hideous burnt-out-shell of what must have been a warship:
U.E.C. ThunderRam
Christened December 2nd 2---
Un--ed Earth C--f-d-racy Dirae Class
Servant of Justice

So this was the UEC to worms had spoken about with such regretful tones. The S.N.S. Burning Glory was worthless. Just another foundered Salrilian Warship. My real query was on the wrecked Earth warship. Perhaps aboard those UEC vessles, I could learn more about my kind, and possibly myself.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

Spamo was rather astonished at the rows and rows of UEC troopers, standing stock still. The man and his family were certainly good at their jobs. Spamo watched the UEC troopers turn and march into their holding chambers on the station. He wondered how the man had persuaded them to come with him. Given the blank looks that their faces displayed until they made it to the chambers, he'd rather not know. He turned off the monitor and looked into his notes on deprogramming. He'd need them.

In the next room, William and Sarah Darkk were scanning Cantharan SlaveBay. With a little financing from Wizr, they'd rescue quite a large number of humans without even leaving their seats. The first stage was going rather well.

The man teleported in behind William.

"So, what have you been up to, Mr Mysterious?"

"I had a talk with Audemed, while my wife was sending a few packages to Earth. I certainly couldn't bring her for that talk."

"I've got some questions, but why don't we start with 'why not?'"

"Audemed and her old mortal enemy seem too similar."

"Ok, what did you talk about?"

"I told him Humanity is not a threat to him, due to empathy. He agreed."

"Alright, now what was in the packages?"

"A nasty, nasty surprise for anyone attempting to blow up Earth."

"What sort of surprise?"

"Not telling. Lets just say any Salrilian attempts to blow up Earth will meet with low levels of success."

"Glad to hear it. Any particular reason to be worried about that?"

"Gaitori Homeworld?"

"Good idea."

The woman and girl teleported in.

"I think most of our work here is done. One more task, and it's in their hands."

"What task is that?" asked Sarah.

"A small message. I'll send it, and then be gone." said the man.

Wizr and Spamo walked into the room.

"Ah, there you are. Those UEC troopers should be the last bit of them, and I'll be leaving this universe soon. You should be able to handle it from here. I'll send one last message, and then we must leave. My wife's people are inaugurating a new leader soon, and she wishes to be there. You seem to have everything in hand. Good luck, and Goodbye."

"Farewell, everyone!" chorused the woman and child, and then all 3 disappeared.

"I think we're on our own again," said Darkk, "I'll miss them."

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

"Attention, stationwide address in progress."

"Good morning, this is the Admiral speaking. Ladies and Gentlemen of humanity, I welcome you all once again into the fold of the UNS. The United Nations of Sol. This name holds different meanings for many of you. Those that fought during the Ares war, and stood with the defense of Anglagard know the UNS as the protectors of the realm, the shining jewel of humanity's achievement. Those that served with the UEC knew it as the old government, defunct and useless. However it was remembered, the UNS was a force that fought to the last, battled through storms of enemies, suffering defeat after defeat at the hands of foes far far superior to itself. And yet it pressed on. The indominatable will of humanity fought to win, fought to survive, forcing every light year taken from them to be choked with the hulls of enemies, and every mile soaked with alien blood. From it's beginning as a group of outcasts in the Ares war, the UNS has always been.

Now we find ourselves once again outcast from our homeworld. As we did during the Ares war, we shall fight our way back to Earth. Along the way we shall recover our territory, shatter our enemies and forge alliances that will sustain the UNS against its foes. Once again we set out on a journey among those shining stars towards our home, and our destiny.
Well all look forward to that day where we all will set foot upon our Mother Earth once again. And this time, it's for keeps."

"Broadcast ended."

<><><><><><><><>

Spamo hung the microphone back on its hook on the bridge. He turned to face a senior officer standing next to him.

"General Veers, I place you in command of this station. See to it that it is in one piece when I get back."

The general nodded with a smile. "Yes sir."

"Good. I'll be back in a week and a half. Hopefully with a few new battleships."
With that Spamo turned and walked off the bridge.

<><><><>
[Now for the OOC: My pathetic attempt at a speech. Please not that Spamo's intentions are now to mount a raid to recover the Mariposa as well as any other targets of opportunity. You don't have to join if you don't want to, but it's what I'll be writing about for a couple three posts. [/i]

------------------
"That was quick."
"Well you know, when you don't do it right it doesn't take as long."

0715 - Hour -49.0
U.E.C. Georgina

The battle has entered it's third day of colse-quarters combat as I retire to my quarters. We have suffered 7 dead in sections 19 and 24 as the worms ripped that part of the ship open. We continue to fight. The UEC Berkeley, ...UEC Julianne,
.....
.....
UEC Duke-William
...
and UEC Thunder Ram were destroyed in action earlier today.
We are suffering Apalling losses, but the worms shall not forget the day Beta Squadron destroyed half of Battlewing Two.
*****1098milky_9.gif&imiam.com/1998/1098issue/1098lahambox10.html&h=304&w=300&
ges%3Fq%3Dstar%2Bsystem%26start%3D160%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D%26ie%3DUTF-8%26safe%3Doff%26sa%3DN*****
Alpha Squadron has gone ahead of the rest of the fleet to secure the rest of the SimLab cluster while we stay back to engage the vanguard of the pursuing Salrilian Armada Which has spread thin to cover as much space as possible. Once Alpha Squadron has destroyed target Planet, we will swing around and punch clean through the Salrilians like a Stake driven through Styrofoam. By the time they move to react, we will already be on our way to Ear.... inter....cpt... wov.n....

...........
........... Levt... spr..ng.... trap...

{spurrous interruption}

...............ch our men believe to be ..... these artificial humans can do incre.... feats of strength and endurance..... singularity warhead capable of burning an entire planet to ashes...

1115 - Hour -53.0
U.E.C. Georgina

Alpha Squadron has secured one of the three subjects. We had no time to secure the other two for a Gaitori Pirate Fleet has dropped into the system. They're looking to raid the Simlab cluster. We have little Doubt they will take the other two subjects, but we have no time. The Woven Fleet has been sighted by Neptune already and we must hurry. Once we have routed the Woven Fleet we will return to Gaitor and confiscate the other t-*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*
All hands abandon ship! I repeat: all hands a!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

[This message has been edited by Test Subject 22 (edited 11-25-2002).]

I could scarcely believe what I had read. Before the UEC Georgina had been gutted, filled with flame and depressurized, it's captain had spoken of three subjects of enormous capability, like my human bretherin, but somehow superior. Could it be there were two others out there like myself?

One had been taken by the UEC Taskforce... myself and the other by the Gaitori Pirates. Gaitor was completely destroyed, so the survival of the third one was questionable. I had to seek out the other of my kind, the one captured by the UEC.

The Ship that made off with the other "Subject" was the UEC Chapman, which never fought in the Battle for Sol. My best odds of finding that ship lay in looking through the Paylos System, mobile headquarters of the Confederate Remnant- the last traces of the UEC remaining.

I abandoned the UNS Ares in the debris-field of that long-forgotten battle, opting for a wrecked UEC Corvette. It's bridge had been split open down the middle and it's crew had slowly suffocated- corpses still fresh from preservation- but it's drives were still functional.

I rechristened my corvette the Ebony Fate.
It was a very cold journey to Paylos.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.