Heres the first part of my story...could u guys help me with the ranks and such? I'm not sure "Rear General" is a real one...well just read it and comment 
KRAINE'S WAR
Part One
Huron was a lush, green planet; it resembled a blue and green marble. White wisps of cloud floated in beautiful patterns over its surface. On the night side, few lights twinkled; Huron was still a pristine world. The spacebound vessels converging on the planet looked like fireflies; the only thing that could be seen of them with the naked eye was their thruster exhaust. Tiny, fast-moving pinpricks of light belonged to the ever-present United Earth fighters that were there to keep order, though it was often muttered that the reason of their presence was more to guard the planet than to protect it.
Commander Milton H. Kraine of the UE Navy stood in the forward observatory of his proud vessel, the Destroyer U.E.S. Star Lance. The comforting, smooth hum of her engines soothed his senses and radiated a sense of calm and control. He sank back into the chair; this was what he loved most, looking out of the forward observatory, just him and the stars. Slowly, he fell asleep to the drone of the ship machinery...
An alarm klaxon jerked him awake. Immediately his earphone sounded: "Commander, long-range sensors show one Turncoat and three Helians have just jumped in. They are flying towards the primary stellar routes from Huron to any jump points. Local militia vessels have either fled or been destroyed. Requesting orders."
"Steer towards the Turncoat! Send a message requesting help from the nearest UE ship! Arm all weapons! Battle stations!" barked Kraine into the microphone attached to his collar.
He ran quickly to the main lift and arrived in the bridge within thirty seconds. The HUD showed that the Turncoat had launched three Kraits and was firing needle missiles at two Freighters and a Cargo Transporter. The three Helians were cutting off any escape attempts.
"Fire hunter missiles at the Turncoat," ordered Kraine, calm once again.
"Acknowledged, sir," replied his senior weapons officer and turned to his computer.
"Give me a long-ranged visual display of each involved vessel. Show shield, weapon, and hull information on there as well," said the Commander. As several viewscreens winked to life, Kraine saw that both Freighters, which were unable to defend themselves, were floating dead in space. Two Helians had docked with one of the freighters, while the Turncoat was sending boarding vessels towards the other.
At that moment a volley of hunter missiles struck the renegade Turncoat. It was sent into a wild spin from the impact, and its shield sunk to 72%.
"Sir, all three Kraits seemed to have acknowledged our presence, and they are moving towards us," reported the short-range sensors officer.
"Order all blaze turrets to concentrate their fire on the Kraits as soon as they come within range," replied Kraine. "Helm, change course towards the Cargo Transporter."
The Cargo Transporter was in desperate flight from the other Helian, and both ships were exchanging fire. The pilot of the Transporter had enough sense to steer towards the Star Lance. As the Helian neared, Kraine ordered a volley of rockets which hurled the small vessel off into the black void. Sensors showed it disabled.
The Destroyer shook as its blaze turrets opened fire, incinerating the lead Krait and damaging the second one. The two fighters flew in low over the Destroyer for a strafing run, and the Star Lance shuddered from the impact of their guns. Within short moments the turret fire had completed its work, and all that was left of the three fighters was floating space debris.
"Shields at 97%, Commander," said the Shield Officer.
"Very good. Helm, take as towards the Freighters at full speed."
By now, the two Helians had looted their Freighter and were fleeing the battle. However, the Turncoat lingered. Kraine ordered a volley of hunter missiles at the Turncoat, and the stricken vessel reeled again. Its shields were at 64%.
"Engage the Turncoat with rockets, missiles, and turrets!" cried Kraine, and strapped himself into the command chair.
Suddenly the renegade ship turned sharply and and began to fly directly away from the Destroyer. But the Star Lance closed in quickly and subjected its enemy to a withering barrage of missiles and blaze particles. As the Turncoat prepared to jump out of system, a final rocket detonated against its damaged hull and the vessel exploded. Power failures and engine malfunctions wracked the pockmarked husk of its hull as the entire Turncoat was engulfed in a brief flash of flame. Then it succumbed to the empty vacuum of space. Lifeless, it drifted slowly off into infinity.
"Shields status," said Kraine.
"83%, sir."
"Send boarding parties to both Freighters. Helm, cut speed to null."
"Acknowledged, sir!" came the reply as a contingent of sailors rushed down to the airlocks.
"I want the helmet cam images up on the viewscreens," ordered the Commander calmly. The cold sweat of combat had passed, and he breathed deeply. Although the Star Lance could easily deal with renegade vessels, a single shield malfunction and a needle missile heading for the bridge could mean the end. In space, anything could happen.
Part Two
Kraine stared in horror at the image on the viewscreen above him. Dead bodies floated in the zero-gravity of the disabled Freighter. Dozens of bodies. The cargo was not even touched; only the credits were gone, and the entire crew was slaughtered. It was obvious that they had not attempted to resist, since none of them were armed. Instead, it seemed like they had surrendered – only to be ruthlessly murdered by the pirates.
Rage and horror struggled for supremacy in Kraine's grizzled head. He knew without looking that the same spectacle would greet him on the second Freighter. These were no ordinary pirates, but desperate and power-hungry men filled with an undying hatred of people who were capable of leading a normal life. And Kraine also knew that this must stop.
A third boarding party had reached the disabled Helian. The viewscreen showed three terrified pirates cowering under the guns of the sailors. Kraine was tempted to allow his men to execute them on the spot. A simple excuse would do: they could report that the pirates had resisted. But a deeper part of him that he never knew he had checked his angry tongue. Let them live, thought Kraine. I'll need the information. Because I am going to destroy these renegades once and for all.
"Bring the captives back to the Star Lance, and destroy the Helian," he ordered the boarding team. He could see the anger in their faces; it was visible even through their dark faceplates. They fingered their machine guns nervously and appeared in conflict with themselves. Finally, one by one, they turned to follow the Commander's orders. A twinkle of pride in his crew appeared in his brain.
Slowly the boarding shuttles returned. The boarding teams of the Freighters were solemn and shocked. They had just witnessed the evidence of an incredible atrocity.
Several minutes later, the bridge doors slid open, and the pirate captives were roughly shoved and kicked in. "Here they are, Commander," muttered a marine who had escorted them over. "Dirty scumbags," he added.
Kraine turned and slowly walked over to the captives, his hands behind his back. "So," he said slowly, and was a surprised by the calmness of his voice, "you will tell us everything we want to know?"
Two of the captives nodded dumbly, but the other one raised himself to his knees and spat at the Commander.
Immediately the marine bashed his gun butt into the captive's head, and beat him to the ground with savage blows. This time Kraine did not check his men, but allowed the marine to reduce the captive to a quivering, bloody heap. The Commander turned to the other two prisoners.
"Which system are you based on?" inquired Kraine in a cold voice.
"Pariah, sir." sputtered one of the pirates. He was young, at most 20, and terrified out of his wits. He seemed to be trying to disappear into his expensive leather pilot jacket (undoubtedly stolen from some victim).
"How many renegades are there?"
"About a dozen Turncoats and fifty Helians. They come and go," squealed the other captive pathetically. This one was older, nearing 50, and had a desperate look in his eyes.
"How many pirates on the ground?"
"Several thousand."
"And who is their leader?"
At this both captives closed their eyes tightly and muttered pitifully to themselves. Finally, the boy whispered, "Boris Kobolewski."
Kraine shrugged. Although both prisoners stared at him, as if expecting a reaction of fear or horror, the Commander had never heard of such a pirate. Probably a small raid leader who thought himself more of a threat than he was.
But for this, he has to die, though Kraine, remembering the carnage on the Freighters.
"Take them away," he said, and turned away from the captives.
Kraine sat down in the main comm. room and stared at the blank vidscreen in front of him. Collecting his thoughts, he dialed in an authorization code and sat up in his seat.
The image of Admiral Igor Neleti appeared before him, clothed in only a bathrobe. The officer looked surprised, and a bit sleepy. "What's the matter, Milton? Why are you calling me now? Jesus, its 3:00 in the morning here. I'm on Knox time, remember?"
"I am sorry to disturb you, Admiral, but I am in need of reinforcements. Just a few hours ago, a pirate Turncoat and three Helians entered the Huron system and disabled two Freighters. Although I managed to destroy the Turncoat and a Helian and send the other two fleeing, they had finished their work aboard the disabled vessels before we could intervene. They killed everyone on both vessels."
"God...but what do you want me to do about it? You can catch two Helians with a vessel as fast as yours."
Kraine dropped all pretext of formality and addressed his old friend urgently. "These are not normal pirates, Igor. They're serial killers. They must be stopped. I captured three, well, two of them. They say that there is a large base of similar renegades on Pariah, about a dozen Turncoats and fifty Helians. The whole operation is led by a certain Boris Kobolewski. This man has to be brought to justice – in fact, its time to exterminate the renegade problem once and for all."
The Admiral shook his head. "I'm sorry, Milton, but you know we can't spare anybody for that. The Voinian war is heating up, and we need every ship we can get – including yours. You'll probably get orders to leave for Mestor soon. We don't have the time or the resources to fight a little war against a bunch of motley pirates. The local militias will have to deal with them."
"You can't be serious!" cried Kraine. "It is our duty to protect the people of all our systems. This is at least as important as attacking the Voinians. For God's sakes, Igor, the Voinians are finished anyway! Can't we just leave them in peace?"
"That's enough, Commander. Control yourself! I'm transmitting your orders to leave for the Mestor system immediately," replied Neleti sharply.
"In that case, my dear Admiral, don't even bother. I don't think I will be joining you at Mestor at all."
The Admiral looked shocked. "Igor, you can't be serious. After all these years!"
"Admiral, please accept my resignation from the United Earth navy," whispered Kraine icily, and cut the connection.
Part Three
Rear General Brenton Hurley sighed and shook his head. "Are you sure that's the right thing to do, Kraine?" he said softly.
He's never firm on anything, and that's why he's still a Rear General after all these years, thought Kraine. But I need his help anyway. "Yes, Brent. And I need to keep the Star Lance also."
"I don't know, Kraine. I can't just let you fly away with a UE ship."
"Sell it to me."
"What? But...well I suppose you have the authorization after 7 years in navy service..."
"I'll pay 2 million credits for her. Log it as an official sale to an authorized civilian."
"Yeah...alright."
"Thanks, Brent. I owe you one," said Kraine, and sent 2 million credits from his account to the official UE naval office. He turned off the vidscreen and settled back in his chair.
Over the years, Kraine had amassed quite a fortune. Ever since he joined the UE navy as a junior officer 7 years ago, he had been saving diligently, investing in stocks, and engaging in some modest commodity speculation. Sometimes, he accepted special missions deep into Voinian territory that offered several hundred thousand credit rewards. After almost a decade of saving, his account held almost twenty million credits.
Kraine sighed and fingered the intercom switch. Now that he had regained possession of his beloved ship, he knew that he would need the loyalty of his crew. They had not yet been informed of his resignation, and he dreaded the moment. With a heavy heart he flipped the switch and cleared his throat.
"Crewmen and crew-women of the Star Lance. This is Commander Kraine speaking. Due to the vicious and unprovoked renegade attacks in the Huron system, I have decided to wage a war specifically targeting the renegade installations that launched these raids. However, when I approached the UE with this plan, they denied me the reinforcements I asked for, refused to authorize the offensive, and transmitted orders to proceed to the Mestor system. Apparently the utter obliteration of the Voinians is more important than the protection of our citizens."
"You may have noticed that we are not headed for the Mestor system. This is because I have officially resigned form the UE. I have bought this ship. I ask you now: which of you will stay with me and battle the renegades? Any of you not willing to do so will be allowed to disembark at the nearest UE world. Please assemble in the primary briefing room with your choice made."
Slowly, Kraine stood, and walked to the lift. He stood quietly in the lift collecting his thoughts as it rushed towards its destination. When the doors hissed open he saw all 85 members of his crew at rapt attention.
The Commander glanced at his palm-disc and called off the names of the sailors, one after another. Each stepped forward and proclaimed his or her choice. It was a solemn ritual, and there was no sound from anyone except for Kraine's reluctant voice and the crisp yells of the reporting sailors.
Finally, the crew was divided into two groups: those that would stay with Kraine and those that would not. Kraine was elated to see that nearly half of his crew had indeed chosen to stay with him and resign from the UE navy. His eyes skimmed over the clustered sailors. 7 out of the 10 members of the bridge crew were there, and 4 engineers. He saw that only one missile gunner was loyal to him: Johann, his comrade for half a decade. 2 mechanics and 8 turret gunners had also chosen to stay with him. His gaze fell upon the remainder of those loyal to him. They were all marines, for those who had seen the bloody spectacle caused by the pirates firsthand could not forget it so easily.
"Very well," he said. "For those sailors that have not chosen to continue service on this ship, I wish you good luck in your lives. I no longer have any authority over you, but I ask that you are patient until we arrive at Huron again. There you will be let off, but we have some other stops first."
"And to the rest of you," he continued, "let's show those bloody pirates how sweet revenge is!"
With a cheer, his skeleton crew took their stations, while the remainder who were still loyal to the UE milled about in confusion. A few muttered and gestured, but the situation remained peaceful. Kraine was fairly confident that the fact that an entire squad of 12 marines had opted to join him played a large role in this. Under the wary eyes of his marines, no mutiny would be attempted.
Kraine took up his familiar position in the forward observatory. "Kraine to bridge," he said through his microphone. "Set course to the Iothe system."
The Commander settled back in his chair, and let the hum of his engines lull him to sleep. The stars streaked by endlessly...
(This message has been edited by moderator (edited 03-18-2002).)
