Ambrosia Software Web Board: Chapter 7: A Prophecy Fulfilled - Ambrosia Software Web Board

[Slug - nuclear weapons aren't all that. And your footnote #1 is somewhat innacurate. Please stop trying to direct a story you're not even really part of anymore.]

Darkk snickered. "It doesn't really matter what you tell me. I can tell you're insane. Your view of reality doesn't leave your head."

Test Subject 21 was about to reply, when Darkk continued. "Oh, and one more thing." TS21 looked quizically at him. "I'm used to the new length of my arms and legs."

With that, Darkk seemed to blur forward. TS21 raised his arms to the guard position... and felt his head snap back horribly. Darkk had lariated him so fast he could not tell what had happened.

TS21 pitched backwards into the sand, but managed to regain his balance. To his horror, he realized that some of his neck vertebrae were broken. He couldn't seem to hold his head steady.

Now the roles were reversed, with Darkk calm and TS21 enraged.

"Pause for a moment, and look up. You might see something of importance."

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

One of the eight remaining ships in the UEC attack was reloading its missile tubes, when an HVD appeared at its tail. Firing madly with its turret, magnetos, and photopulse, it managed to disable the ship before it could leave long-range mode.

Caufield and his men were no slouches flying, either.

The remaining seven ships turned towards the HVD, but as they did, a jumpgate opened, spewing out UNS battleships. The battleships had their turrets locked onto the UEC's position before they even left the gate, and got in a crucial first volley. Two more UEC ships were crippled. Only 5 remained.

And at close range, loaded for nuclear attack, they could do little.

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

Darkk smiled as he turned to TS21. "That ought to stop the Sals laughing for a bit."

"What do you mean, you fool?"

"Simple. You're doing exactly what the Sals want you to. Simple as that."

"I am not. I am putting down the enemies of humanity!"

"That's what they want you to do. You can't put them down all the way. They'll see that they were attacked by humans, and come for revenge. Fortunately, they're being defended by humans too. So they know that not all of us are like you. Ever wonder why the Sals put their bombs in human bodies? Why not something more unnoticeable, like a Gaitori? Simple: they wanted humanity to take the blame. Every time you do anything like this, it helps the Sals. Stop helping the Sals, call off your fleet."

"We can crush the Phylydians. The humans who come after us will finish the job."

"The only humans coming after you are the ones led by Spamo and myself."

"That will change, someone else will take charge."

"No, because your barbaric and Salrilian-inspired ideas will die with you and the fleet here. Everybody else is smart."

"Damn you, imitator..."

"Stop calling me that, please. My design is much older than yours. Furthermore, it was not made to aid the Salrilians in any way."

"Stop..."

"Fine, I shall. It is no longer necessary to beat you. Once the fleet is mopped up, you can do nothing but sit here and wait to die."

"The dropships will get us in a few minutes."

"No, they shan't."

With that, a second jumpgate opened, disgorging one Racker class carrier. In seconds, its fighters were tearing into the dropships. Boom. Boom.

"Looks like we're stranded here."

"What happens if the UEC wins against your pitiful UNS?"

"I'll have to kill you myself. But I doubt it will come to that."

------------------
"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 01-11-2003).]

[This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 01-12-2003).]

Okay, I've tried not to make OOC posts and just let the story flow but you're ignoring parts and twisting it. To set you straight:
- The test subjects are not modified humans- nothing biological could survive what they go through. They're robots, alright? Thank you for forcing that out of me.
- The UNSET and UEC-remnant are on the same side. Both want Earth to be free from threat. The UEC remnant just wants to die quietly
- Test Subject 21 is almost fully devoid of emotion, but sane
- Test Subject 22 is overemotional
- Ships-of-the-Line only fire once after opening-up. They don't reload their 2,000 or so missile launchers.
- The whole battle takes place in Quasispace, so there cannot be any jumpgates
- Large nuclear warheads can do that much
- The Phylydia was already there; was there the whole time. The entire Phylydion Navy was amassed.
- Darkk with a few minutes of such scientific things as "chemicals" would be no match to fourteen years of Salrilian conditioning and Engineering in two perfectly-made subjects. How would darkk's magic make his legs/arms longer?
- Stop calling me Slug

------------------
See I'm the king of the swingers, the Jungle V.I.P.,
But I've reached the top and had to stop,
And that's what's
botherin' me.

Two million missiles screamed towards the group of UEC vessels, travelling at borderline speed-of-light.
"Sir, they're about to enter Quasispace!" Yelped the commander as he glared out of the hole leading to normal-space. "ETA 6 minutes!"
"All ships- Full reverse and deploy countermeasures." Ordered the captain of the Barsroil.
"ETA 9 Minutes!"
"Can't we drop into N-space and engage FTL?"
"Can't, sir, they've reached the threshold- countermeasures 0.004% success rate." A few small flashes lit up the murky reflective teal of quasispace as the countermeasure drones exploded amidst the missile swarms. "Enemy warheads accellerating to 14 C. ETA 5 minutes."

The captain sighed. "This is Barsroil to Manheim and Volkov- your time has come.

"Yes sir." "Yes sir."
The two D-14 frigates broke off formation, the Manheim in the lead. Both ships drastically increased thermal output, their nuclear cores venting huge amounts of radiation towards the oncoming swarm. 2x1, they flew towards the swarm and disappeared.

First one explosion, as the Manheim's point-defenses shot out several missiles, followed by a chain of of smaller explosions as the missiles reacquired target and plummeted into the Manheim's electric shield, and finally a huge fireball as the Manheim's self-destruct knocked out several thousand cubic-kilometers.

The Swarm continued, in a doughnut formation (the hole being the former location of the Manheim). They were too spread out. The Volkov had to concentrate them if it was to knock out a significant number of them. The larger D-14c frigate had no trouble getting the attention of the missiles. The frigate had to time it right. It engaged Q-drive and roared right through the formation, dropping a small package right in the center. The warheads turned to follow it, closing the hole momentarily and missing theVolkov. The package erupted and another nuclear fireball engulfed the teal sky.
The Volkov roared from it's Quasi-space burrow into normal space, pelted with the overtaking missiles as they exploded into it's electric field. Plasma-drives engaged in a final death-throe before the ship was torn to pieces, a moment before another two-thousand cubic kilometers were added to the glowing sphere of nuclear fire.
Thousands of remaining missiles turned for the remaining 6 warships. The UEC vessels braced themselves.

------------------
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.

[It's simple: Darkk was completely ripped apart. His old body was dismantled piece by piece for parts. The "needles" are special nano-assembly probes, equipped with matter-rasterer nanites. All of it is based on technology now on the theoretical horizon. And nobody mentioned that the Phylydia was there. Or it could have been a short-range jump. If you're going to ingnore what other people post, the RPG cannot continue.]

[Will post more in a bit.]

------------------
"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 01-12-2003).]

This isn't about what you are doing to the plot- I don't care. I actually like taking things in different directions, which is why I have refused to tell you what will happen when and to plan out the story.
This is what you're doing to the story. I'm unsure if it's because you're insecure or whatnot, but you've been making huge swerves and downright bad decisions on the structure of a plot. Hell, in the last post you introduced four Deus-ex-Machinae (which is, a magical solution to a problem).

• You manage to turn your character into a being that could defeat the others all along by chemicals or whatever gibberish. All in a few lines. Rather anticlimactic and unrealistic, to say. If you wanted, you could have had the two test-subjects duke it out.
• "Suddenly the Phylydia appears out of nowhere" hm. It was there all along, being kept-at-bay, but I guess the gods gave them the ability to cross huge distances. Well, it appears out of nowhere and plows over the protagonists we've been following for weeks, in just a few lines.
• "Suddenly even more space-ships come out of nowhere to blast the bad-guys". Yeah, not only is this unrealistic (they would have seen them coming), but it's another one of your blatent Solutions-in-a-Can™.
• Suddenly your character gains enough strength and combat experience and knowledge and motive to kill the other in one hit. Forget a long-battle with drawn-out elements, it's just another Instant-solution.
If you had only used one, yet made it linked to all the other situations (eg: Ewoks appear unexpectedly, overwhelm imperial forces, rebels shut down the shields, death star destroyed, empire loses)(as opposed to ewoks appear and crush imperial ground forces; huge rebel space-armada appears and crushes imperial fleet; Luke gains a bajillion times more strength and singlehandedly destroys the Death Star).

One of the problems you have (I've been noticing this for a while) is you're too quick to come up with a quick ending to a story, an instant solution that, in the process, boosts ego and requires minimal typing on your part.

Quite frankly, you have the literary skills of styrofoam, and just a much taste. You know this, and attempt to make up for it with techno-babble. I quoth:

Quote

Which, given the setting, is impractical, illogical, and impossible. What- you think I don't know what those words mean? Hell, was all that even necessary? If you really desperately wanted it to be your character who goes in there and kicks everyone's ass, you could have simply skipped all that "enhancing to make me tuff and respectable" and had him go in solo á là Schwarzenegger.

Please- just do me a favor and go back to your own storyline. Don't butcher my plot, thank you.

------------------
See I'm the king of the swingers, the Jungle V.I.P.,
But I've reached the top and had to stop,
And that's what's
botherin' me.

The Chapman had hot-dropped its complement of dropships before Darkk had rammed the vessel. The dozens of dropships had immediately formed up to make their drops on the surface. They had been fast and aggressive, and had managed to slip most of the orbital defenses. They ran the picket and hit the atmosphere fast, hoping to drop in and get lost in the ionosphere. Two dozen small vessels plummetted downwards, carrying their death troopers, dumping them out in drop tubes at around 90,000 feet. The dropships flew down into the cloud of debris they had dropped, slowing to free fall to mix in with the chaff and other radar countermeasures that were thoroughly mixed in with the falling troopers. Around them, SAMs shot upwards, some detonating on proximity fuses, others missing, and shrieking through the mess and out the other side, detonating in the upper atmosphere when their fuel was depleted. The dropping soldiers watched their altimiters, pulling various chutes and brakes at certain points to reduce speed for the final drop as they closed in on ground level over the major agricultural, industrial and population centers. On the ground, the troops of the Empirium steeled themselves against the burning rain that clouded the skies above them.

----------

Roberts watched the blips fall on the radar screen of the Wind of Blades.

"I think we'd better go down there and bolster the defenses. Last I checked, the Phylidions were never much for heavy infanty. They could be in for trouble. Line up for an orbital run of the planet with the other dropship to put us on top of their LZs we can calculate the drops. Raise the admiralty and get us landing clearance. Call me if you need anything, I'm going to get my men off of your ship. He beeped all of his men both aboard the Wind of Blades and aboard the UNS dropship that had been aboard the Terry-Burke.

"Gentlemen, we are going to drop against UEC forces that landed just moments ago on the surface of Dominus. This is a mission requiring utmost discretion. Do as much as you can to distinguish yourselves from our targets. I'm sure the Phylidion defenders are not as well informed as the leadership tells us they are. They may not take the time to see if there's a UNS patch on your shoulder. Be careful. I need six chalks with EHALO drop gear. The rest of you will be carried down aboard the Pegasus. I am transferring coordinates to the chalk leaders I've chosen. Squad four, you get Pegasus' tank. Use it well. Muster with your squad leaders and assemble gear. I will be on again when we get the go-ahead from command. Captain Roberts out."

He raised Spann aboard the Mariposa, to try and convince him to let his men land. Roberts wasn't sure, but it seemed to him that if the planet had been evacuated, much of the Phylidion home field advantage was gone. Letting the UEC troops salt the earth of Dominus would not be good. Besides, Roberts had heard rumors about Deathtroopers during his time aboard the Terry-Burke. They were not savory characters.

While he waited, he strapped the EHALO unit to his back. It was the parafoil system that allowed the marines to jump out of a vessel at just under orbital velocity and altitude and survive. The seven parachutes in the pack were designed to keep slowing down the marine to keep him from melting. The margin of error was tiny, especially at higher altitudes/velocities, such as the one he and his men were jumping from now. The Wind wasn't designed to enter the atmosphere, but the pilots were taking them as low and slow as their ship would take them. Roberts waited for Spann to message him with a go. He was imagining him talking with the Phylidion representative, the rep refusing, and Spann explaining our quick response time, and the Phylidion, too proud to truly accept help from anyone, finally swaying and agreeing to help as his screens flashed status reports from the areas under attack. Robert's intercom ponged.

"Roberts? This is Spann. We are go for marine landing. Good luck. Out."


Roberts smiled.

"Captain, prepare to make the run, gentlemen, standby for drop."



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

Slug, you have officially attempted to start a flame war by persoanlly accusing me. I'm going to find a mod and have topic locked to prevent this from getting out of hand. I'm not saying I'm better than you, but in the past you've done everything you accuse me of, with the possible exception of "push to end too early".

I call for this topic to be temporarily locked. I request a moratorium on posting until we've calmed down and had a chance to talk it out.

[edit]In the meantime, I removed the part where they get the whole fleet, and reiterate that Darkk isn't stronger than TS21. He's just not weaker, like you made him out to be. And i resist the urge to reply further, as I know that a flame war is in the offering.[/edit]

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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 01-12-2003).]

Quote

No I haven't. I've been taking apart what you post and telling you where you're going wrong in writing a story, but I have in no way been hurling personal insults at you. I haven't said anything about your mother, your father, I haven't called you a loony or any of that. I have just pointed out that while I took weeks to set up a conflict, you, in 2 posts, have "ended" it.
And please, stop calling me Slug. I've asked you before.

------------------
See I'm the king of the swingers, the Jungle V.I.P.,
But I've reached the top and had to stop,
And that's what's
botherin' me.

All was a blur as the two demigods of war struggled for the fate of the Alien Imperium. There was a loud thud as flesh met arcanite and my brother was hurled back, hitting the still-glowing rock with great force. The imitator strode up to his limp body, placed a bloody iron boot on his quivering spine and took a deep breath, as if cleansing his sould for what he must do, before giving a violent twist. There was a juicy crunch as the Test Subject's spinal collumn snapped.

My heart ached more than it ever had, I could feel as if a cold mass was drawing together from the far corners of my being, assembling. The imitator strode over to me and I cowered. He spoke through fleshless and burned lips.

"How long do we have?"
I would have sobbed had my tears not immediately boiled away. "Half an hour. You can't stop it. You can't survive it."
He took in what I said. In 30 short minutes, the planet would be incinerated by the vast energies of the implosion of a singularity. "We need to leave. We can still make it through this. He couldn't, but you can still be saved. Join me and we will free our people. There is yet hope for you, Test Subject 22."
I looked up from the corpse, soon to be the epicenter of an incomparably powerfull conflagration, and in it I saw my fate. "No." I said. "There is no hope for me."
In the depths of my chest, something went click.

- - - - -

The last of the Phylydion rockets sparked off the shields of the battlegroup. The Frigate Wells erupted in flames, severely damaged and nigh-crippled. The Cruiser Barsroil rolled into position in front of the frigate, shooting down the last missile with point-defenses.

The archers had loosed their jagged flying death, and now the cavalry were on the way. Numerous Phylydion Battlecruisers, among the last of the close-range warships, were charging towards the battlegroup with vengefull airs about them. In nine minutes they would have bridged the gap, and all hell would break it's fury upon the two battlegroups.

The two Ships-of-the-Line Gosroth and Pentacoff sailed ahead, flying for the Phylydion fleet that was closing in. The many clashed with the two defenseless confederate warships with impunity. Slowly, the ships' shields began to buckle. The Gosroth rolled as it's sundered hull gave up the ghost. Completely, crippled, the empty Ship-of-the-Line was torn to pieces by the pack of battlecruisers.

All guns turned to the Pentacoff, The Pentacoff turned to meet them.

- - - - -

"Send this transmission to the UEC Pentacoff: Prepare to be boarded."

"Sir she's turning to fight."

"I thought she wasn't combat-capable!"

"She's not, sir, not a single close-range gun. But- Sir she's opening up!"

What the hell is she doing? Wondered the Octo-Commander as he watched the graceful Ship-of-the-Line open her four mandibles to expose the insides of the ship. Row uppon row of missile tubes- all empty. It was an awesome sight- admittedly- like a huge "egg-carton", all empty. Except for a single missile, one that hadn't been launched.

"All ships full reverse! Get out of there!"
The blast was immense as the ship's QuasiDrive and the warhead simultaneously detonated, each amplifying the other. As the glowing plasma boiled away in space, the Octo-Commander opened his eyes again.
"Damage report?"

"Sir, minimal damage... no casualties."

At that point the comm crackled. "Baeledin, where the hell are you? It's armageddon over here!"

"Sir the enemy group has passed into orbit over the homeland! They're taking up positions to commence a saturation nuking."

The Octo-Commander panicked. "Take us back there! Move to intercept!"

"Can't sir! That blast tor a hole in omnispace."

"Procede on impulse!"

"Aye sir. Estimated time of arrival... eleven months three days fourteen hours."

The Octo-commander could only watch as the Barsroil, the Wells and the two assault bombers took up positions.

- - - - -

"What can I do?" The imitator asked of me.

"The battlegroup." I said, jerking my head at the sky, gazing across the millions of miles to Dominus. "They're planning to wipe the alien homeworld clean."

"We must stop them." He said. "To preserve the integrity of the human race and the billions below."

"It is too late," I felt very frail at that moment, practically gasping for air as the pressure built up inside of me, "for me. I have an hour at most to spend my final minutes of life untill I too meet my brother. There are two dropships above us- they'll be here any minute- they've been out of contact. They don't know what's going on"

"What must I do?" Asked he.

"Aboard one of the Confederate ships is an omnispacial lense they are planning to use to sterilize the Alien World. If I can get near it and use it prematurely, it will magnify the fire of my death to wipe out every ship in the system- but the planets will be spared. Their atmospheres will absorb the energy. If we are to prevent genocide, you must" I choked "Get me aboard the Barsroil."

------------------
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.

Darkk looked at TS22. He was getting brighter and brighter in infared. Not good at all. Apparently, the singularity charge inside him had become activated. Too bad. Darkk kinda liked the guy.

The transports circled overhead. Darkk quickly threw on TS21's clothes over his own. One of the transports landed, and a man in an EVAT suit emerged. The man looked at Darkk and TS22.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Yes, I am. Please take us up. I need to get to the Barsroil."

"Yes sir."

Darkk smiled. The UEC rank and file knew of TS21, but had not got a good look at him. This would work quite well. Unfortunately, the Barsroil would likely have an officer with enough rank to tell he was an imposter. Darkk would need help.

Darkk thumbed the silent transmitter in his pocket. "Roberts, I'm going to need some men..."

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

Lieutenant Eric Soden, Serial # 11418-77642 moved quickly, driving his men along with him. Ahead, his troopers moved, determination steeled on their faces. Three Dozen squads had been dropped at specific sites around the area to clear the way for the final assault. In order to spare the volleys of nukes from the intricate planetary defence net, Soden and his men had to eliminate the central guidance centers that commanded the network. He had lost several hundred of his men in the drop, and they had had intense EM cover from both chaff and active jamming. The nukes had no such luxury. They would be at the mercy of the orbital defence network. Soden's squad, like the dozens dotted around the surface would not be able to escape before the nuclear holocaust landed, but they would complete their mission, and allow the nuclear fire to finish the job.

--------

Roberts waved the first group out of the door into the boiling hot atmosphere that flew by the open door. He listened to the pilot of the Wind of Blades call out the times for the drops, and Roberts would wave the marines out. After six teams were sent off, Roberts held on as the Wind burned hard and reversed direction, entering a large parabola that would place it over the next few drop zones. Roberts relaxed for a moment. He had seven minutes before the ship dove back into the atmosphere. He watched his men on his monitors, keeping track of each squad and each man as he fell, occaisionally spotting problems and ordering corrections to his men as they fell.

The ship dropped onto its new course and burned again to secure another parabolic curve through the upper atmosphere. Roberts called another squad in and listened to the countdown before dropping them in. Six more squads jumped in, leaving just Roberts' men and those who did not have drop packs. They would be commanded by Lieutenant Griffin and left at the discretion of Admiral Spann. Roberts' squad packed the airlock, with Roberts in the lead, watching the superheated air glowing around the door frame. Roberts stood back a bit, knowing full well that he would soon reach that temperature as he fell. He looked at his men, nodded, then counted down on his fingers in time with the voice in his ear. He leapt out, immediately followed by his squad. He looked back long enough to see the Wind scream off in the distance, then was jerked as the EHALO drop pack deplyed it's first drogue. Seven to go, he thought, as he began talking his men into formation.

-------

The assault had stalled in the open. The Phylidions had leapt their defences and attacked the advancing squads hand to hand. They wore capes and wielded knives with dazzling speed, moving in close to cut and stab men before leaping away with flourish. Even the hardened deathtroopers were having difficulty actually engaging them, and even those who were not being attacked had lost their momentum. Soden needed to rally them and keep them moving. Out in the open, snipers were picking them off. He yelled over the intercom "Push forward!" as one of the caped horrors landed in front of him. It stared with its three blue eyes, it's cheeks sprouting whiskers like a catfish. It winked at him then lunged. It moved fast, too fast. Soden could barely catch its hand. When he did, it spun, using his grip as a pivot to flip him onto his back. As he fell, Soden reached for the combat knife on his belt and drew it, pointing it up as the abomination came down on him. Soden's blade sank deep, and the thing lost its aim, it's blade glancing harmlessly off of his helmet, a few scant centimeters above hismuch weaker neck armor.

It jumped back, flipping as it went, landing a few feet away. It looked at the handle sticking out of its belly, grasped it and slowly drew it forth, it's eyes dulling as it did. It dropped the blade after considering it for a moment, but Soden had recovered and managed to draw his sidearm. He fired three times, and only the third shot hit home, dropping the three-eyed beast. Soden moved forward and fired at it's fallen form three more times before it could stand and attack again.

"SEE!? They can bleed! Move up!"

He rushed forward again, many of his men with him, crossing the last hundred yards and overrunning the first line of machine gunners before the Taeskors had a chance to regroup on the moving squad. Soden checked his roster. He was down another twenty men, but he was much closer to his objective.

---------

"Well listen Darkk, I'm busy, but I left half a platoon on the Wind of Blades tell
Griffin what you need done. Roberts out."

Roberts watched the explosions and tracers fly around the radar station below him. He and his squad would have to make sure that it and the others in the area stayed functional. He cut his chute early and dropped, he was running out of time, by the looks of things down below.


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

Spamo watched the progress as the EHALO troopers dropped towards the combat zone. The Phylydion line was holding, but just barely. The UEC troops were putting up a tremendous fight, and it was clear that if they didn't get reinforcements soon then there wouldn't be a safe enough spot for the EHALO troopers to land and deploy.

"Tac officer, give me a summary of space-to-surface weaponry. Precision strike capable only please." said Spann.

"Yes sir. We currently have... seven particle beam cannons, four tachyon pulse arrays, and two spinal rail cannons. All of which are capable of firing on the planet's surface."

During the battle, the Mariposa had taken a more than a couple of hits. Several batteries were down, and the port broadsides were only at 60% power. Even still, the trusty old bucket had a lot of bite left in her.

"Tactical, I want you to compute firing solutions to begin orbital bombardment on the UEC troop reserves."

"Sir, the phylidion troops will be in danger of taking hits from our batteries if we begin bombardment."

"I am aware of that fact. Please be very precise in your calculations. Use the missile batteries and fire laser-guided munitions. That ought to be good enough to drop fire on the UEC heads without endangering our own troops. We've got to buy our boys on the ground some time to get set up."

"Aye aye sir. Computing firing solutions. I'll relay the coordinates to the marines dropping in so they'll know where not to go."

"Good. Open fire when ready." replied Spann. Hopefully this stunt will buy enough time.

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

[Glad to have you back, Spamo.]

Darkk listened on his earpiece as Spamo began the bombardment. He hoped that would buy time. Nukes were merely to open the defenses enough for the true attack strategy. the Barsroil was putting up such a screen of missiles that no forces could get near her.

The transport bearing Darkk and TS22 docked on, having dodged a furious firefight. Darkk had to give the UEC pilots credit. Not all of them were the braindead lackeys he remembered from the Third Battle of Sol. With a little luck, the transport crew could be persuaded to surrender.

Darkk hopped off. And was greated by a commander. Great.

"Hey you're not..."

The commander's expression of surprise was cut short by his neck snapping. Darkk drew his trusty plasma rifle, as his manipulation skills were still unformed. He tossed a rifle to TS22.

Together they set off into the corridors of the ship, mowing down naval officers like grain.

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

"Sarah Darkk to Spamo"

"Spamo here."

"I've got the Phylydians to give us a feed into their integrated battle database, to give you better aim on that bombardment."

The weapons fired again. On the ground, the Deathtroopers halted. Just a little. Just enough.

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

(Just an accuracy note, Pharris: Standard Phyl infantry are armed and armored conventionally; only the Pure Taeskors, who are rather rare, fight with knives. Some standard elite troops are armed with short swords for desperate situations, but they rely mainly upon rifles and such.)

Garrion Retoe had been many things. PhylSec agent, fleet commander, and diplomat. However, he'd never been a dirt-crusher. He commanded a platoon of elite infantry holed up in a makeshift fortification on the outskirts of Dominus City.

He growled. How could the defenders have been so foolish? Heavy fire of all sorts blazed towards his position. His helmet targeting system picked up an immediate threat; a heavy repeater-armed soldier. He hefted his burst rifle and gently squeezed the trigger. Five tiny white plasma spheres streaked from his weapon in under a second, and the heavy weapon exploded in flame.

His men were hard pressed; however a squad of Pure Taeskors had recently been dropped in his area and he'd witnessed their grim efficiency. Nevertheless, fancy ancient weapons were not meant for a full-scale battle such as this. He'd ordered them to pull back into the buildings so that they could defend buildings with close-fighting, where they'd be at their best use.

Who the Yedues were these things, and why did they attack? Few theories had lasted longer than the soldiers who, distracted with their theorizing, had been vaped in the trenches. Hopefully Dominus would live, though. Not too long ago it had survived an attack that was aided by its own people. Garrion wondered whether or not they should evacuate to the planet Phylydia like they had before.

A large hovertank rolled up behind Retoe's position and started blasting away at the attackers. A man hopped out and down next to Garrion. "Sir, we've recieved reports that human marines have landed to aid us in defense." Garrion smiled.
"Let's find them, corporal."


Traek Cicion caught the weapon of the soldier in front of him as it was being brought to bear, and directed the blast into the soldier's own stomach. With his other hand he slashed another trooper from forehead to chest with his keutae. After that he ran with his other elites back to the safety of the lines. It was time for good old fashioned guns to do their work. Blades could wait for later.

------------------
-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

The imitator and I stalked through the Barsroil wearily and slowly. Occasionally the ship would creak as it changed direction through it's course. The entirety of the remnant Phylydion fleet was breathing down on the three remaining Confederate ships- the Barsroil and the frigates Perry and Neuman, of the four-thousand battleships, only five needed to catch up to the UEC-vessels- that would be sufficient firepower to take them down- but flew as they did, they could not hope to catch the UEC vessels, going nearly twice their velocity.

I stopped suddenly, cocking my head to the side. The imitator asked me hoarsely, "What is it?", to which I could not quite answer. I felt some kind of presence. Then I whirled fourty degrees to my right, saring straight down the hallway, what I saw made me shiver. A figure- enshrouded in cloak, headed my way at a great pace. Yes, he must now be only thirty yards from me, but I still could not hear his footfalls- the cloak must be silencing them. All there was, was the faintest shadow dashing towards me, yet completely silent.
It was a deathtrooper.
It fell upon the imitator with a silent fury, he made no sound as his chin jerked back more in surprise than in shock. The imitator recovered almost instantly, striking out at the invisible foe, but by then he was already gone. Where to, I knew not. Another passed by me- I felt the wind- and Darkk struck out, grabbing something and ripping it out of the field. A blade.
He spun from the ground. They were all around us now, cackling, rubbing their hands together. The two of us were instant in out moves. As I struck out with both my palms, the imitator whirled off a solid roundhouse-kick, yet mid-blow, I fell tot he floor, clutching my burning insides. A large crunch resonated throughout the hallway as four spines simultaneously snapped under an iron boot-heel, but the fifth one was atop of me, ripping my face to pieces. Were it not for the swift action of the imitator, I would have been rendered blind, or worse, unconscious.

"You have to go. Now." I ground out, clutching my chest. The burning pressure told me the time was near. "If there are more of them- neither of us stand a chance. I must dash to the core."

"I have to make sure you can do this. You must reach the core safely. If I abandon you-"

"This is my fate, Albert Darkk!" I lashed out. "If you ever wondered why we're so tough- the test subjects- it's because we were meant to look after ourselves untill we could deliver. That's the only reason they built this bomb a body instead of a missile delivery system or whatever- the human form is perfect for strategic insertion, they learned. I don't know how many of my brothers are out there in the stars, waiting to deliver, but my time is soon.
" I must do this, not only to save the lives of the dozens of billions below, but to save the integrity of your race- our race. Leave me and run- far away. Have your friends run too- else they will all be atomised when I deliver."

The imitator looked at me in a sort of awe, mixed with pity. "At least give me time to get to a comm-array to warn the Phylydions. Their entire armada will be obliterated if they don't escape."

"No, Darkk. There's no helping them. They don't know, and they don't have time to act."

He took a deep breath. "Fine." Turned, and walked away. "Make our kind proud, Test Subject Twenty-two.", and headed for the airlocks, steeling himself for the long decent to the planet below.

- - - - -

Blood-curdling yelps from behind the flanks as the whisps of blue whirled through the rnks of the marines- blue capes dancing like swordflags from one UEC trooper to the other- most of whom hadn't fully recovered from their chryogenic slumbers. The Taeskors spun death as if at the weave for some fabric of war. Weapons-fire sounded in the trenches and a few of the elite phylydion soldiers fell. The UEC landing force had never been intended to win a ground-war on the surface of the most heavily-fortified planet in known space, but to merely act as a diversion, drawing the marine element of the fleet away from the three UEC vessels that were now preparing to complete their missions above.

- - - - -

The Mariposa recieved a small yelp over the radio from a small object that was plummeting through the atmosphere, only a single signal before it was engulfed in the flames of descent.
"This is Darkk. Get... out of the system."

------------------
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.

[Cicion: Yeah, the ones using knives are Taeskors, the ones shooting are not. The Deathtroopers are trying to knock a hole in the surface to air defence net so that nukes can start landing.]

'Dammit, Sergeant, you hold that tower! if they get in and drop part of the radar net, this planet gets glassed. You DO NOT FALL BACK!"

Roberts fired more shots. He was watching reports from his squads across the surface of the planet. Some of them had arrived too late, and could do nothing save accept the snickering surrender of the Deathtroopers who had successfully destroyed their objectives. Others had arrived in time to bulk up the defences around the remaining radar towers. Roberts had landed seconds after the deathtroopers had reached the last Phylidion lines, and had moved immediately to intercept them. His squad had struck hard and fast, catching them outside of cover, or pinning them down with fire while advancing to rout them, but some had managed to breach the tower's basement door, and were moving to place charges. Roberts and his five men charged in after them, following the faint EM whispers of the trooper's cloaks. They moved fast, chasing them through the basement and up. Roberts paused at the base of the stairwell. He had counted five entering the building, and had found three bodies, but he was certain he had hit one more. He could see blood on the floor.

"Red and blue, search and clear this basement. They've set charges and they don't need a long timer. Franklin, follow me."

Roberts blew the door, then sidestepped back as three frags fell down the stairs and went off. Franklin followed him up covering their advance with smoke and CS. Any human with a punctured suit would be hard pressed to fight, although from what Roberts had seen, the UEC deathtroopers were more than human.

They charged to the top. Roberts and Franklin stacked up on the door, then Franklin blew it, stepping in through the debris. He saw two forms across the room, one collapsed on the ground, one kneeling over with his rifle centered on the door. Franklin centered his PK rifle on the kneeling figure and squeezed a burst off as he noticed that the prone figure had a weapon too. They shot at the same time, all three. Franklin dropped the kneeling figure with his burst as he was knocked back by the shots. He fell for a moment, Roberts stepping past him, squeezing off AP rounds into the prone figure, who rolled to his feet and into cover. Roberts kept his crouch and began to sidestep, leaning over to expose as little of his body as possible, while moving to bring the figure into view.

"Step out, trooper, it's over! I can patch you up. You don't need to die."

At the same time, he eyed the hole that the PK blast had carved in the still body of the other trooper and checked on Franklin's vitals-his suit was holding him, for now. He saw that red and blue had completed their sweeps and come up with five bombs, which had been disarmed. They were still searching. He heard a gurgle.

"It's not over. When the charges go off, this tower will go down, allowing more of the nukes to get down. Once this section is flattened, and there is a hole to get through, the entire planet will be chipped down by the sheer magnitude of nuclear weapons.'

"Not so, trooper, we've got your charges. It's over."

"You're lying."

"it's been over a minute since you planted the first, and your man downstairs never planted the last. Moreover, it's still four more flights to the control room, and I didn't read anyone go farther up than here on motion or heat. You're it."

"I told that man to leave me, but he refused. He insisted on dragging me up with him. He could have completed the mission."

The trooper stood up. His suit was ripped open from a narrowly missed grenade downstairs, and he had several profusely bleeding holes in his torso. He stumbled then steadied himself. Roberts recognized the bars on his helmet.

"Captain, you fought well, but right now I am looking at reports from my men, and your teams have not been able to secure the majority of the towers. The nuclear strike will not be able to get through the net. It's over captain, give up."

Roberts raised his rifle, freeing his right hand to reach forward to steady the man. Soden considered the arm that was being offered him. He looked from it to Roberts face and down at the arm again. He reached out to take it, grabbing Roberts and hauling him forward and off balance. His other hand went for the rifle, but Roberts had the presence of mind to pull it in tight and roll into the pull. He swung, butting the Captain with his rifle, but the captain did not fall. He threw his light frame into the suit, but to Robert's surprise, had the strength to knock him over despite the suit gyros. Roberts fell, then rolled to get to his feet, but the Captain was out the door and moving upstairs, to the last chance he had-the control room. Roberts jumped to his feet and rushed after him, catching him on the stairs. He shot him in the back twice, but the armor piercing bullets seemed to slip right through the crazed soldier, adding nothing but more trickling holes. The Deathtrooper didn't need his organs, he was driven by his will.

Roberts rushed up the stairs and tackled the man, bringing him to the ground, but even with the suit's augmented strength, he was having trouble. He called for support, but was hurled off as Soden ran up one more flight and into the control room. Roberts followed, and once again was barely able to catch up and get him on the ground. Roberts concentrated on using his weight, and clamped his hands down over the man's two grenades. The trooper was throwing him around, and Roberts was about to lose his grip on the man's bandolier, as red team burst through the door and dove on them dragging the men apart. Blue came in a second later, and it took all five marines to hold the man down. Roberts took his grenades, watching him strain. Blood leaked from the corner of his lips, along with dozens of holes and burns on his body. There was not a palm's breadth free of wounds on his body. The trooper had carried on with strength and valor, but now even his genetically enhanced body was failing, and he exhaled a long breath. They carried him down to the lower level, where Franklin was trying to stand up, now that the suit had patched him up some. Roberts had him lay down. Roberts heard a dropship landing outside. Moments later, a Phylidion in a blue cape came up the stairs to the doorway. Roberts stood and performed the one Phylidion cultural meme that he knew: The Phylidion salute. He opened his visor and drew his hand from one eye to his forhead and down to his other eye. The Phylidion across from him smiled and saluted him by bringing his hand up to his temple then down.

He gestured for them to follow him, and the marines picked up their wounded and moved downstairs as the Phylidions entered the room to clear the building. For the first time in six or seven minutes, Roberts went back to check on the progress of his other men.

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

A young soldier crouched in the trench-line at the edge of Dominus City. She was in one of the heaviest zones. Light weapons fire screamed toward the line at many points. She was reloading her rifle when a young man jumped down next to her and covered her progress. "How goes the battle, sergeant?" He asked.

"We're holding, soldier. Thank fortune those human marines arrived when they did. They've been of great help defending our surface-space defense grid. What unit do you belong to?" The man removed his helmet, and she gasped.

"Octicate Nerec!" She stepped back and saluted him.

"No time for such foolery now!" He roared. "We're in a war. Fighting the enemy comes before pompous matters of rank. Now man your post!"

"Aye sir," she said, smiling. Together they wiped out a squad of charging deathtroopers. Nerec was in his last year as Military Octicate. Admiral Dinial Bedein was his choice for the next one. Nerec just hoped his command wouldn't be the one that lost Dominus. He'd come pretty close last time.

His comm bleeped, and he lay down in the trench to receive it. "Yes?"
"Sir, word of the attack on Dominus seems to have gotten around. News of heavy skirmishes along our border."
"Skirmishes?"
"It's the Greccha, sir."

------------------
-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

[It's [i]William[/i] Darkk.]

Darkk entered the escape pod. He'd decided not to use the airlocks, and rushed up towards the bridge, hoping to distract the deathtroopers from TS22. Judging by the seven successive attacks, he'd succeded. Huge gashes were visible in his chest and arms, but none of them were serious. He'd become better at sensing the the deathtroopers with his other senses.

Darkk finally found a command-level pod and entered, setting flight control to manual and punching out. He rocketed away from the ship as he tried to sense the radiation spike that was TS22. The test subject had almost reached what seemed to be the Omnispatial lense.

Darkk now turned his attention to the problem of entering Dominus's airspace alive. He'd probably not be able to advise them of who he was in time, and he wasn't sure they'd believe it anyway. Fortunately, there was another way.

In the place where Darkk's new modifications had originated from, troops with this modification had been famous for the "orbital cliff diving" insertion. It certainly looked impressive, jumping out of a spaceship and letting gravity carry you down the whole way with no parachute or anything. Most people would think that anybody doing this, even if they weren't burned up, would hit at thousands of meters per second and become a slime layer.

But thanks to air friction, the velocity would be limited to a maximum of 120 meters per second. Considerably more than a human could take an impact at, but much less insurmountable. Judging by the performance of TS21 and TS22, Darkk surmised that the Salrilians had caught on to this trick as well.

Darkk knew that even falling by himself, he'd just look like a slower warhead. There was a trick to it.

He waited until he heard the tone that indicated an air-defense missile was locked on him, then took a deep breath and opened the hatch. His new form could hold its breath long enough. He watched the missile launch's infared flare, and tracked the missile coming at him. At the last possible second, he pushed off and was proppeled foraward slightly by the shockwave. Scannars below identified him as debris.

Darkk plumeted to the surface with his limbs outstretched to lower his speed, as he had bailing from the locked transports.

At 50 meters above the ground, Darkk rolled and oriented himself feet down. This time, he landed in a small pond near the battlefield. Darkk jumped out of the now very hot water and raised his hands, as some astonished Phylydian troopers looked on.

"I'm with the UNS forces. Please take me to Roberts, I've got a message for him."

High overhead, the UNS and Phylydian ships were superlighting out, but they might not be fast enough.

As Darkk and the Phylydian guiding him ran, Darkk used his datapad to fire off a message. They'd need a gateship.

"Wizr - need jumpgate from "+$SpamoCoords+" to anywhere not in this system. Please advise nearest gateship and have it contact Spamo."

A minute later, Darkk saw the giant green ring in the sky. Good old Wizr.

[Sorry for the Deus Ex Machina, I could have had them escape by hyperspace, but Wizr needs to do something occasionally.]

Darkk looked up at the Barsroil. Now it was all TS22.

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

I could only stagger to the core of the Barsroil, acquiring numerous ambushes, slaughtering all in my path, yet with each attack, each thread of resistance I tore, I grew weaker- accepting wounds and broken bones. They knew I was ready to deliver- and they knew I would save the Planet Below- by annihilating the three Orbital Nuclear Bombers- and every other ship in the system.

The poor Phylydions in what was left of the armada in orbit- I pitied them. Some were warned by the UNS intervention force, but others... no warning from the UNS could break through the chaos and panic the Phylydion BattleNet had decended to.

But in that network, I heard something alse. More invaders- but longtime enemies of Dominus- were attacking, trying to enter the system, intent on finishing the job the UEC had so unexpectedly started- and with over half of the Phylydion Armada obliterated there wasn't much to stop them. What use would my sacrafice be if I could save the Phylydion Homeworld, only for the Grecca to finish the job?

I stumbled through the blast doors into the cavernous chamber- like a cathedral. I tas built around an immense lighted pit, in the center of which floated the lense. The invisible Omnispacial Lense- who knows how the UEC Remnant got their hands on it- suspended by invisible threads. I could only see it for the distortions it left on light that passed through it. It had the properties of an enormous convex lense and was pointed down to the planet below. The UEC would use this as the focus of their nuclear flame to punch through the remnants of the nearly-crippled planetary defense.

I could only wait now, untill I could no longer stave off the enormous energies penting up within my self. I would catch the Grecca in my fury. I could only hope the few Phylydions who realized what was going on could try to lure the Grecca fleet to Dominus.

------------------
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.

[The Greccha are attacking the border, TS22. They're a long, long way from Dominus, and there are still plenty of defensive forces between them. Let's not be too hasty.]

Commodore Riudo Lirel stood on the bridge of her small flagship, a Kiojea-class battlecruiser, and looked out of the front portals. Her small outer defense fleet, near the edge of the Imperium, was scattered through a small asteroid belt, lying in wait. In minutes they would be attacked, if Intel had guessed correctly.

Her thoughts drifted to her fair homeworld and to the great nation it represented. She'd have given anything to be at Dominus to defend it against the mysterious attackers. Status reports from the Dominus system were erratic and unreliable, and whatever jamming system had been thrown up kept reinforcements from reaching it. Three fleets were poised in nearby space but there'd been no indication of whether or not they were needed.

Small wormholes started opening up a few thousand miles out, and Greccha medium warships drifted out. The ships resembled dull-gold whales, and they had few parts that extended from the superstructure. Most weapons and devices were flush with the hull and inside of it.

"Maintain power-down," she said quietly. Her force, containing three medium destroyers and two heavy picket ships, would be hard pressed to defeat the Greccha force in a toe-to-toe battle. Her ships were silently waiting behind the debris, and the Greccha ships advanced cautiously, approaching the small depot that hung in the center of the system.

Hopefully the careful asteroid manipulation that she'd orchestrated earlier would work. Her battlecruiser had been modified with a heavy proton beam as a main weapon, packing more punch than kiojeas usually did. As the lead Greccha ship passed close to hers, a large iron asteroid drifted bewteen them. An asteroid thick enough to keep sensors from detecting an energy spike. As the three objects lined up, the front of the cruiser glowed yellow, and an immense beam lanced out, through the asteroid, impaling the Greccha ship. Her other ships leapt from hiding, ambushing the enemy force and crippling it quickly.

She sighed. The Greccha were a mysterious cycle. Every time they built up enough they lashed out at the nearest species, intent on conquest. The Phylydions would then beat them back to their homeworld and wipe out their military. Then the Greccha would slowly build up and it would happen all over again. They never learned; they just seemed to be a conquering machine that kept rebuilding itself and running through its old processes.

------------------
-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

[Ah, Wizr will have plenty to do once this little fight is over. Sorry for hijacking the character, but I want to do this.]

Maletena Wizr recieved the priority message at a slightly inopportune time. On top of that, the bleeping message pad had interrupted a very pleasant dream. He had been monitoring the incident surrounding the Phylydian space and Dominus itself. The sheer amount of work required to expand the intelligence net into the previously uncovered area was astronomical. Despite the difficulties, information began to flow from the region in half the time it would take to set up a normal intelligence net. Circumstances helped out, since conflicts and unrest can make certain operations easier just as it makes other operations hard.

Wizr picked the madly buzzing datapad off his table. Blinking away the sleepiness in his eyes he quickly scanned down the message from Darkk.
"Wizr - need jumpgate from "+$SpamoCoords+" to anywhere not in this system. Please advise nearest gateship and have it contact Spamo."
Trey'sh Maletena Wizr, bringer of peace to countless worlds, a man of eminence and prestige, nearly jumped out of his own skin. He flew across his room to the communication console on the other side.

<><><><>

Spamo's ship rocked with a final blast as a straggling light assault craft futily threw its weapons against the Mariposa's hull. Ablative armor flaked off, dissapating the furious energies that tried to pierce the hull. Meanwhile, the Mariposa returned her own fire, leaving the LAC a smoldering cinder in space.

The bridge comm officer spoke up. "Sir, I'm getting a communication from the Ishiman Gateship...Ishiman Unity. The jumpgate is stabilized and ready for transport."

Spamo nodded as he checked various status displays. "Good. Signal the rest of the fleet to move out as fast as possible to reach that jumpgate. Tacs, I need an ETA for that lense pulse!"

"Calculating sir...ETA 8 minutes. The fleet should have enough time to get through... Sir! Multiple enemy contacts emerging from the shadow of the second moon!"
Spamo quickly glanced at the field overview display. Indeed, several small craft, small enough to hide behind a moon and slip away while everyone was fighting were angling towards the jumpgate.
"They are vectoring towards the jumpgate. If they fire on it, their weapons could destabilize the node and.. and..."
"We'd be stuck here." finished Spamo. "If that's the way the want to play it then. Helm, move the Mariposa to interdict between the escaping fleet and the incoming enemies. Prepare to fire on my command."

The Mariposa lumbered through space to interpose her bulk between the speeding corvettes and the fleeing UNS and Phylydion warships. The corvettes broke above and below the great UNS battleship, but were too slow to avoid the silent thunder of her cannons. Rail cannons flashed and fusion pulse turrets exploded corvettes as they scrambled to avoid the deadly hail. One managed to jink and twist to the other side only to be caught by a antiship missile. Within minutes the Mariposa had shredded the corvettes. Unfortunatly, one of those corvettes had collided with the aft section of the Mariposa.

"Damage report!" cried Spamo.

"Helm is not responding. Engines are out cold... going for a restart...success! Partial manuverability is returning. Damage control teams are en route to engineering."

"ETA of the pulse."
"Two minutes sir! Sir, there's not enough time to reach the jumpgate! We can't accelerate fast enough to reach it in time."
Spamo cursed vilely. A terrible thought occured to him. The planet Dominus laid only a mere minute away. A mere minute to the protective shroud of the planet's atmosphere.
"Helm, set a course for Dominus. Full acceleration, with an atmospheric entry trajectory. We're taking her down."

"Sir... we're going to land the ship?" asked Cmdr. Elisabeth, Spamo's first officer.

"That's affirmative. It's our only chance of survival. Communications, signal Darkk with our intentions and relay our projected landing coordinates. Liz, secure the ship for impact and landing. Tactical, prep the marines to repel boarders once we have made planetfall. Engineering, make sure that we eke out every last bit of thrust from our engines to slow our descent. It's going to be a rough ride down people, so get ready."
Everyone on the bridge stared silently for a breath. For a brief heartbeat Spamo thought that his crew would mutiny now and drive to make the jumpgate before the pulse arrived. Then everyone broke into a mad flurry of action to prepare the ship for its final flight.

The great battleship's engines flared and fell silent. The Mariposa approached and entered the atmosphere of Dominus. The outer hull began to glow a deep cherry red as friction heated the hull to thousands of degrees. A great thundering roar echoed over the embattled countryside as the massive UNS battleship screamed through the atmosphere. The engines flared and thundered, fighting gravity to slow the descent of the Mariposa. Almost imperceptibly, the ship slowed it's descent, and the hull cooled off. Still, the impact would be terrible. Spamo watched fascinated at the ground rushing up towards him. Impact alarms rang throughout the ship. The entire bridge crew was strapped in their seats with anything and everything that could be used to secure them.
"One thousand meters to impact... seven hundred, six hundred, five hundred, four hundred meters to impact...!" cried out the helm officer. Spamo looked over at Liz, who was staring wide-eyed at the onrushing planet. He reached over and grasped her hand to reassure her as the Mariposa plummeted.

The great UNS battleship Mariposa dug out a sixteen hundred meter long gash over 100 meters deep into the landscape of Dominus. Luckily, the engine's containment bulkheads held together. Hull plates buckled and folded, but the ship itself stayed somewhat intact. Silence fell over the wreck as she came to a halt.

On the bridge of the Mariposa, Spamo coughed and raised his head to face the wreckage of his ship.

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

The landscape flew by the open doors of the transport as Roberts unrolled his smart display from its reel and called up a map. It had markers for the locations of all his marine teams. The Taeskor leaned over to watch as he pulled out his stylus and began marking the map. He drew arrows from his teams, consolidating them into platoon sized groups spread around the continent. Once he finished, he handed the map to the Phylidion commander, who scrutinized the markings. The Taeskor pointed to the arrows, then at the dropship as if asking a question. Roberts took his pencil and tapped the units, then made a motion as if to pick them up and move them to their rallying points. The Taeskor nodded, then took the pencil and drew a few more lines, moving the rally points to areas where he knew there was need of reinforcements, then looked at Roberts. Roberts examined the changes, then gave a thumbs up and a smile and began to radio instructions to his men. The Phylidion did the same, calling transports to airlift the marines. Roberts leaned out the door, eyeing the huge column of smoke drifting up from the horizon. He then radioed in to his men again, explaining what had happened to the Mariposa and that he was moving to investigate the crash site.

He looked at his men in the back patching up Franklin as best they could. The suit had him stabilized, and in fact he could probably stay that way for several more hours, but Roberts would be much happier once the wounded were under Sergeant Davies, the company's doctor. He turned back to the Taeskor, and started to think about how he'd get the idea of rallying wounded across with just his display and his pencil.

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

Darkk told the trooper escorting him that he had to go, and took off running towards the source of the crash. He'd seen the Mariposa hit, and he had to see if Spamo was OK. Besides, Spamo had crashed near an administrative region of the Phylydian capital city.

Darkk watched a UNS transport overhead moving towards the crash site. A natural Hialee would think nothing of leaping into the transport through it's open door, but Darkk was still getting used to his new body and wouldn't take that risk. Besides, he might give someone a heart attack.

He was pacing the transport, when it pulled down just above him.

"Darkk?"

"Good to see you, Roberts. Don't ask how I'm doing this, just hold still a second."

With that, Darkk leaped into the now much closer transport.

"How in the vast void did you do that, Darkk?"

"Remember Pharris's operation?"

"Oh, that. You did it to yourself?"

"Yep."

Darkk noticed the rather nervious Phylydian in the transport.

"I'm with Roberts here." he said in Phylydian.

"Alright," Said the Phylydian, "can you translate for us?"

"Sure"

Darkk then explained to Roberts that he could translate. Provisions were made to transport the wounded.

The transport reached the hulk. Darkk leaped from the transport to where Spamo was standing on the top of the ship, causing him to topple backwards with shock.

"Darkk! Is that you?"

"Yeah. I used a small device loaned to me by our friend the watcher."

"I take it that this somehow let you jump that distance, and accounts for the odd ears and other slight changes?"

"Yeah."

"We've got some wounded to bring off, and I don't think the ship can get up on her own."

"Yeah, I've arranged for the Phylydians to bring over a few medteams. I'll see if I can get your ship off this rock when this is over."

"Why were you so urgent about everyone leaving? I could tell you meant it, and I'd like to know what's going on."

"There's about to be an explosion in orbit equal in magnitude to the one that leveled the surface of Gaitor. The planets should be shielded by their atmospheres, but ships are toast."

"Definitely a good reason."

"Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Darkk began to sniff the air. Yes, that would be him.

Darkk took a running leap off the ship and continued running when he hit the ground.

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

Nerec mowed down the advancing deathtroopers, but there were too many. His gun and that of the soldier with him emptied just as the last deathtrooper was about to reach them.

As Nerec reached for his knife and what he knew was a totally futile fight, a blurred object landed very heavily on top of the deathtrooper, smashing his head to pieces.

"Octicate Nerec!" Darkk shouted.

"Who are you? You're not wearing any uniform I know! And how do you know Phylydian?"

"I'm Darkk, one of the UNS commanders here. I took out one of the enemy troop transports, you might remember that we rammed one at the beginning of the battle."

"Yeah, but nobody on that could have survived."

"I survived, as did 2 of the passengers on that ship. They are walking bombs, carrying an immensely powerful weapon inside. One of them is about to destroy the planet we crashed on, and the other I converted to our side. He will destroy the Barsroil in orbit overhead now, but his blast will get most of the ships in the system. Planets will be kept safe by their atmospheres, but the ships must leave."

"I'm not sure I want to just have them leave..."

"They'll never catch them anyway - I was up there just a few minutes ago, your ships aren't fast enough to catch up. I need you to send a message to scatter them!"

"I suppose I could."

Nerec took out his datapad, and entered in a large quantity of passwords. Overhead, the long dark shapes of the Phylydian vessels vanished from the sky into omnispace.

Suddenly Darkk could feel it. TS22 was about to blow. "Goodbye," Darkk whispered to himself.

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

Above the planet in high-orbit, the Barsroil had achieved geosynchronous orbit over the last Planetary-Defense node that the combined Imperium-UNS ground-fources had fortified. The cruiser shook as it's sides split open, sending sparks deep into space. The belly of the UEC Cruiser opened up to reveal shelves of high-yield nuclear devices, glistening in space like their intended target would if I couldn't stop them.
With a hiss of coolant, clamps unlocked the warheads. Within the Barsroil lay enough nuclear feul to destroy the surface of the planet forty times.
- - - - -
The ship hummed as planet-based beams bounced off the Barsroil's matrix shields. I began to hear a countdown.
15, 14, 13, 12
I could delay it no longer. Ribs began to break and tissue tore as the pressure overwhelmed me. In my final death throes, I hoped my fire and flame could destroy those warheads before they reached the planet.
11, 10, 9
At that point, I felt a sharp blow from behind, launching me into the lense. A deranged mechanical laugh taunted me. I turned and, to my horror, witnessed the face of my brother, missing large portions of his body and leaking fluid everywhere. He must have climbed aboard the dropship, somehow.
8, 7, 6
He launched himself into the lense, his arm drawn back in preparation to heel-palm my skull to a crushed metal shell. I swung up with my boot, catching him by the cheek.
5, 4, 3
His jaw flew off in a spray of blood as he entered the lense, striking me in the chest.
At that, the pressure suddenly fell. I gasped- part from reflex- part from realization of his intentions.
"And whah he di'n't tell you, bruh-er," he choked, through the remnants of his face, "is tha' like all udder bombs," he pounded my chest again, and the pressure softened, pain starting to loosen it's grip, "we can be diffused."
All pressure left my body as I lashed out in a fury, finishing off the twenty-first test-subject, scattering his pieces throughout the core.
2, 1
Launch
- - - - -
The nuclear warheads detatched themselves in such number and flurry the Barsroil was launched back. The ballistic missiled screamed for the planet's surface.
- - - - -
I sat there, torn to shreds, held together by the very weakest threads of flesh and bone. As darkness began falling upon me, I drew strength for one lasts truggle. I dived to the depths of my being, struggling against massive systems-faliures to reactivate myself. Trying, pushing harder than I had ever pushed before.
But darkness was too quick. With that, the Twenty-Second Test Subject died.
- - - - -
Dawn had breached the horizon of Dominus where the battle was taking place, flooding the continent with sunlight, Ultraviolet rays, cosmic radiation. With that, the faintest traces left-behind by the UEC Cloaks vanished on sensors amidst the sea of light.

Taeskor Jaesesan ran up the slope of a crater, holding the gash in her side as Phylydion blood dripped out. A pair of invisible blades followed quick behind her. One shot out, wedging itself through her thigh. She fell and the Death-Trooper pounced on her, meeting a solid kick to the abdomen. The other blade lashed out, slicing into her cheek and up her temple. The blade returned to finish her off when she pulled the knife from her thigh and thrust it upward.

There was a crunch and a slight moan as the cloak fizzled long enough for the young Taeskor to learn she had stuck the human through it's esophegus and out it's spine on the other side. Crimson, dark human blood oozed down her arm.
- - - - -
The Nukes were about to hit the atmosphere.
- - - - -
Jaesesan glanced down only long enough to see the Deathtrooper, still stuck at the end of her arm, reach down to it's belt to pull another knife to kill her. She could only marvel at the endurance of these humans.
She pulled the blade up into the Death-trooper's jaw, leaving a huge dripping gash in it's wake and with all her might, twisted the blade. The Deathdrooper's face exploded as it's skull split down the middle, Jaesesan pulled her gory hand away to shield herself from the huge glare.

For at the very same instant the Deathtrooper died, a spot in the sky directly overhead erupted. The blinding flash died down to reveal an expanding sphere swallow-up the sky.
- - - - -
In orbit, all objects met the same fate. In the first microseconds, the explosion was the size of a beach-ball, contained in the Omnispacial-Lense where the dead Test-Subject had lay, but as it hit the event-horizon it magnified to engulf the entire cruiser and the cloud of Nuclear Warheads it had shed. From there the fireball engulfed the other two UEC nuclear-bombers, annihilating them and their nuclear loads. The blast hit the atmosphere of Dominus at a very-high fraction of C, bouncing off into space where the explosion continued expanding.
The remaining divisions of the Imperium that had remained in orbit didn't even see a flash before they vanished in the fireball. The same with every other ship in the system as Orbital defense, stations, satelites, and starships alike were incinerated. The electromagnetic wave coninued on after the fireball had dissolved, melting vessels for nearly five astronomical-units from the epicenter.
- - - - -
As the planet below watched in silence as their sky turned white, people rejoiced and mourned. Dominus- and her sisterworlds- had been spared by an act of the gods, seemingly. But while countless billions had been saved, their soldiers, their sailers of the stars, had all died. Of the thirty-thousand proud battleships that had been in orbit earlier that week, only 9,000 had escaped. The primary armada had been shattered, all forms of communication to worlds outside the system had been destroyed, and the space-lanes leading to Dominus had been snapped like twigs. Though they had suffered damage, the Phlydion Empire would rebuild.

Yet as the final embers died down and the electromagnetic energies escaped in enormous quantities to deep-space after destroying all in their paths, the people of Dominus could only look out to the stars as the Greccan menace rolled forwards.
The last of the Salrilian Test-Subjects and the remnants of the horrific UEC regime were gone. The third age of the conflict for mankind had finally drawn to a close.

------------------
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 01-28-2003).]